By Srinidhi Ranganathan in Director's Pick — Jun 5, 2024

The Great Escape

The room was filled with treasures, but it was the pile of gold that held Srinidhi’s focus.

The Great Escape

Srinidhi Ranganathan, the rogue of Larion, prowled the cobbled streets with a dagger at his side and a length of rope coiled like a serpent at his waist. The evening was cloaked in shadows, perfect for a man with less-than-noble intentions. His keen eyes caught sight of a wealthy merchant’s shop, its door left slightly ajar, inviting trouble. The flickering candlelight inside cast long, dancing shadows, like specters on the walls.

He approached the shop cautiously, slipping his dagger from its sheath. The metallic glint reflected his steely resolve. A small barred window, just within reach, provided a peek inside. The merchant, a stout man with a thick beard, was engrossed in the hypnotic clink of gold coins, counting his wealth with a greedy glint in his eye. The room was filled with treasures, but it was the pile of gold that held Srinidhi’s focus.

After ensuring no unwanted spectators lurked nearby, Srinidhi tried the window. Locked, naturally. He pulled out his lockpicks, old friends in his line of work, and began his delicate dance with the latch. Minutes felt like hours until a satisfying click broke the tension. The window creaked open, its hinges miraculously silent, and he slipped inside like a shadow.

The room’s dim light painted a scene of opulence. The merchant, oblivious to the danger, continued his count. Srinidhi moved silently, his footsteps muffled by a thick rug. Each step brought him closer to the pile of gold. He readied his dagger for the silent strike, but fate had other plans. The merchant’s eyes suddenly snapped up, locking onto Srinidhi's.

A shout filled the room, followed by the shrill ring of a bell. Srinidhi lunged, his dagger finding flesh, but the merchant’s cry had already alerted the city. The table overturned, sending gold and trinkets scattering. The door burst open and city guards, swords drawn, stormed in.

“Halt, thief!” one guard shouted, his sword leveled at Srinidhi. The guards fanned out, creating an unbreakable wall of steel. The merchant, clutching his wound, watched with a mix of fear and fury.

With no time to waste, Srinidhi dropped to the ground, avoiding the first swing. Rolling to his feet, he snatched up his rope. A plan formed. He tossed the rope over a sturdy beam, tying the other end around his waist. The guards advanced, but Srinidhi used the rope to swing up, narrowly dodging their blades. He perched on the beam, out of their immediate reach.

The guards muttered and strategized below, one brandishing a spear. As the spear jabbed toward him, Srinidhi moved swiftly along the beam. He spotted a bucket, likely used for extinguishing fires, and a new plan emerged. He upended the bucket, dousing the guards with water, disrupting their formation.

Seizing the moment, Srinidhi leapt from the beam. The guards, blinded and soaked, stumbled. He hit the ground rolling, a sharp thud echoing in the room. Scrambling to his feet, he darted for the door, his heart racing.

Outside, the city street awaited. The sounds of pursuit rang behind him, but the night was his ally. As he vanished into the darkness, the city guards were left cursing the rogue who had slipped through their fingers once again.

I, Srinidhi Ranganathan, laughed softly to myself as I disappeared into the shadows, the thrill of the heist pumping through my veins. Another day, another escape.

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