Adventure Is the Spice of Life

Alrighty, here's a new story that's been nagging me for about a week. There won't be much sex in it at first.

Sorta based on D&D rules, settings, and other stuff.

Comments always appreciated.

Author's Note: So far, Part 2 is completely seperate from the story, meaning you can read it stand-alone if you're simply looking for fap material. Part 3 is a direct continuation of Part 1, so if you'd rather avoid the icky sex, you can read Part 1 and 3 while skipping 2.

Prison duty was boring.

This was always true, Jack the Guard thought drearily. Even though the jail housed quite a few criminals, hardly anyone ever visited them. There was almost always a quick turn-around. Stole some fruit? Lose a hand. If you died from bloodloss or fever, served you right. You did your crime, and you payed your fine. If you could. Couldn't? Always room at the gallows or in the work gangs.

Hardly any visitors indeed. If ever there WAS a breakout attempt, it'd certainly not come through the front door. Guard duty did have some perks, though. Jack was able to sleep most of the day and spend his princely salary--earned without fear of conscription due to already having an 'important role to the safety and well-being of King and Country'--on the local ales and harlots.

In fact, he was having a rather delightful dream about a pretty little redhead when a heavy thud hit the door. Jack almost fell off the creaky, wooden chair upon which he had been reclining. Luckily, the two legs being held in the air by his leanings cracked down on the planks instead of his rear and his pride. Still half asleep, Jack grumbled around in a confused manner before several other sharp raps on the portal focused his attention.

Letting fly a quick half-dozen curses--from heathen gods, of course, not the right and proper ones--Jack hoisted himself off the stool with a grunt. He took hold of a heavy, well-worn club in one hand and in one hand and with a metallic clatter pulled a set of iron keys from their hook on the wall. It was mid-morning, so there was plenty of light and fresh air outside of the dark little corner to which Jack the Guard had repositioned his desk.

As a young man, Jack had been strong and proud. Now approaching his forties, time had ravaged him. His gut had started to become somewhat noticable, and he couldn't swing his sword as fast or as hard as he used to. Unlike others his age, he had never served in the army much less any wars. He didn't have the experience of a grizzled veteran to offset his poor physique, so he made the same pact with himself as he did everytime he had an unexpected visitor--if they wanted a prisoner and were willing to go through him to get one, he'd damn well let 'em, and he'd also let the guard handle it in their own city. Heck, if he were bludgeoned a little, he might get a medal. Or paid leave.

He swung the peephole portal open. He didn't see much of the person except they were alone and that lo