One of the guards breaks to one side; the other comes at you headlong, catching your chest with his shoulder and throwing you to the ground. You barely dodge the second guard's vicious kick, rolling away- straight into a stalagmite. The spires of rock offer some protection, but not enough; the guards don't seem to be interested in a fair fight. All right, you think, let's all fight dirty then. Two experienced soldiers against one young weredragon are pretty long odds whichever way you slice it - which is what the guards are trying to do to you now, one with a sword, the other with his retrieved knife - but at least you can use a couple of things to your advantage: your dark-sight lets you see attacks that shadows would otherwise hide, and your tail gives you a modicum of protection from the back. The dropped torch does fine as a weapon; waving it closely in front of their faces leaves them momentarily blinded, giving you an opportunity to deal a few blows. There's always at least one guard between you and the one way out of this dead-end chamber, forcing you to stay near the middle of the floor.
A quick jab with the torch unexpectedly puts it out, plunging the chamber into darkness. Your dark-sight serves you even better now, since you don't need light to see; the guard near the entrance can't see to sidestep your tail. You sweep his feet out from under him, his sword clattering to the floor; you leap over him and sprint away. The other guard gives chase, of course, yelling threats and curses as he stumbles into walls. You can see where you are going, though, and soon you leave him behind, navigating randomly through the network of caves. Ahead you can hear a company of soldiers marching in your direction--you spot an opening and dive through it.
You find yourself in another dark chamber, much like the one you were being held in. The guards troop past, giving the chamber only a cursory glance. The shadows are too deep in here and they don't see you. After a few moments they come back in a much more disorganized manner, overlooking the chamber entirely. The echoes fade out into the distance soon after. Relieved, you carefully peer around the edge of the chamber entrance...
And look straight into the face of one of your guards. The big one. "Aha!" he shouts, pouncing. "I thought you'd try- unh!"
Your kick has connected, not too solidly, with his leg. You leap back to stay out of reach of his swiping dagger, and hit something warm. You quickly turn, ready to defend against a new attacker. A slash across the back of your leg reminds you of the guard, who has switched his grip on the dagger and is now trying to stab you. Once more you use your tail to your advantage, whipping the tip across his face. The guard screams and drops the dagger, holding his broken and bleeding nose in both hands. He lies whimpering on the floor until you grab him by the hair and pound his head once against the floor, knocking him out cold. He was the one who knocked you out in the first place. You consider tying him to the ceiling, but you are too injured to try.
Which brings you back to the other supposed occupant of this chamber. Your dark-sight shows you a shape hanging from the middle of the ceiling...
Tied hand-to-foot, wearing a head shroud -this looks familiar- and hanging by his tail.
Could it be?
You pull off the shroud. A pair of shiny violet eyes look into yours, then at the still form of the guard. "Nice work," he says. "Now would you get me down?"
A few moments later, the other weredragon is free, rubbing his rope-chafed wrists. "Come on," you say. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Do you know where we are?"
You shake your head. "You?"
"Fantastic." Your second look out the chamber entrance reveals the passageway is clear. To your right, the corridor goes on for a few meters and turns sharply left. You don't even consider backtracking.
"Which way?" your new companion asks.
"That way, I guess," you answer, indicating the turn in the corridor. You take a step forward and barely manage to stifle a cry, dropping hard to one knee. The guard slashed much deeper than you thought; you can't put any weight on your left leg. Angrily, you haul yourself back into the chamber and lean against the wall, grimacing; lately it seems the left side of your body has been getting a lot of abuse. First a whack to the head, then a stab in the ribs, now a slash to the leg.
"Is it bad?" the other weredragon asks, kneeling beside you.
"Oh yeah," you growl. "Bad enough. Ow." You squeeze your leg, which doesn't help.
"We have to bandage that," he tells you. "Your shirt will do for now." You pull it off, fold it as flat as you can get it, and carefully wrap it around your leg. He ties the sleeves together and yanks them tight. All for the sake of silence, you substitute a ragged cry with pounding your fist on the floor. He secures the knot and gets to his feet. "Let's go."
"Are you kidding?"
"Get up! The guards are going to be here any minute." He grabs your arm -your right arm, fortunately- and hauls you to your feet. "Wrap your tail around your leg. Keep it stiff. Like this." He demonstrates. Feeling a little foolish for not thinking of that, you imitate him, and try taking a step. It's a little difficult coordinating the movements, but after a few tries you can move decently well.
"Okay, let's go," you say at last. "What's your name, anyway? I'm Shree."
"My name's Sussurr," he answers, returning your nod of acknowledgment. You hobble together into the passageway, keeping alert for guards. With your injured leg, it's slow going. Several times you are forced to retreat down the passageway and slip into a side corridor to avoid a guard or ten, but you are not spotted.
Once, you look into the main corridor from a narrow gallery to check for guards and see a lone man coming towards you, from the direction the last three guards were going, carrying a torch. Sussurr ducks back into the shadows, but you get an idea: you disentangle yourself from his arm, and press yourself, standing on your good leg, against the wall, carefully unwrapping your tail from your left leg.
"What the hell are you doing?" he whispers. You wave him down. As the soldier trots past you, you push off the wall and pivot quickly on your foot. Your tail whips out, and with careful aim, you catch him across the throat. The soldier performs a three-quarter flip in the air and lands, face down, with a dry thump, but doesn't cry out. You drag him next to you and search him, finding exactly what you were looking for: a straight-handled short sword, slightly chipped but perfectly useful. You flash the blade and a grin at Sussurr's surprised expression, then pull yourself to your feet. He gives you a look of admiration.
"Where did you learn to do that?" he whispers.
"I didn't. I made it up. Good thing it worked, huh?" you chuckle.
"You are crazy." But his tone is far from reproachful.
About twenty minutes later, there's another guard lying on the floor, out of the main corridor, and Sussurr is the new owner of a stout wooden quarterstaff, which he offers to you to use as a walking stick, in exchange for your sword. Of course, you make the trade, and now you make better progress. The maze of caves and corridors leads you steadily lower, and after a while the main corridor abruptly ends in a long pool of water. The slight downgrade takes a steep downward curve, and where it becomes nearly vertical it is filled with water. You test the depth with your staff; you find you can drag the end of the staff along what passes for the bottom, as it turns back to almost horizontal a couple of meters down. The main corridor seems to simply go on underwater; but how far, you have no idea. You could try to find out where this goes; or, you could try to find out the way you were brought here in the first place.