The guard was none too gentle as he dragged a delirious drunk unceremoniously down the dank passageway leading towards the loan holding cell.

Medice rose to his feet and peered out of the cell at the incoming duo. He’d been imprisoned for several days, long enough for him to decide that the facilities were positively uncivilized. It was long past time that he left the facility, and this might be his opportunity to depart.

Drool dribbled down the drunk's lips splattering into a congealing pool as the guard fumbled with the cell door. As the door shrieked in protest at being opened the guard grunted, “Move to the back of the cell, prisoner.”

Medice meekly complied, hiding his smirk as he recognised the tired face of the guard. Richard was recently married and already had a young baby at home. He had far more concerns in his life than doing his job properly.

“Good day, Richard isn’t it?” Medice asked brightly, smiling at the scowling guard. “I didn’t think you worked the night shift?”

The guard sighed. “Missus is pregnant again and we need the extra money.”

“Working the night shift might also help prevent future pregnancies,” Medice commented as he moved forward and bent down to examine the drunk.

Richard grunted in sour amusement and dropped his prisoner into the hard stone floor as he turned to leave. The drunk’s head bounced unnaturally, causing Medice to wince in sympathy. Moments later the man’s stomach gurgled loudly as the prisoner threw-up, heaving chunks across the cell floor.

Medice stepped politely back to avoid the mess. A quick glance indicated that the man didn’t appear to have eaten much and the vomit was a particularly unpleasant cocktail of carrots and cheap alcohol.

The unconscious man groaned painfully and then rolled onto his side and threw up more bile. Spittle now dangled from the edge of his lips and an ugly gurgle echoed as he took each breath.

Richard was suddenly concerned. He’d hit the drunk a little harder than intended. It hadn’t been his fault though. The guy had been asking for it, struggling like that, still Richard didn’t want him to die. Dead inmates created paperwork and if there was one thing Richard hated, it was paperwork.

He looked over at Medice in desperation. Medice Delictum was a relatively recent addition to the jail. He’d been brought in a few days ago for unlicensed medical practice. It was a strange old life Richard thought, by all reports the man was a competent surgeon. However, while an incompetent surgeon might kill someone, they wouldn’t get jailed. Only failing to pay the license fee to the Governor did that. Those in charge always want their pound of flesh from the little guy.

“He’s going to be alright isn’t he?”

Medice knelt cautiously beside the drunk. The chap was obviously drunk, however he was also unconscious, and the large bruise that was spreading on his forehead spoke of a possible concussion as well. Not a great combination for the injured party, but for Medice, it might be an opportunity.

“Probably, now please be quiet while I work.” Medice turned the man's head slowly from side to side listening for the crunching that might indicate spinal damage.. “Although, you never really know with head injuries. He’ll either wake up with a hangover and a concussion, or he simply won’t wake up. Head injuries are hard to predict.”

“Just keep him alive until daybreak is all I ask.” So long as he didn’t die immediately it wasn’t Richard's problem. His shift finished when the sun came up.

Medice nodded in response, but he wasn’t really listening. As a doctor he understood the importance of loosening a patient's clothing and giving them a thorough examination. You could never be too careful, sometimes they might possess a card indicating their medical allergies or their pocket might medicine that gave an insight into their condition. Admittedly that was rare, however more commonly they had a wallet from which he could take a donation for his services. Sadly in this instance all Medice located was an ornate pocket watch. Still the engraving upon it was quite informative. “Have you informed the Snowdon’s of their son's condition?” He asked.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Richard’s face went white. “The Snowdon’s? As in Baron Snowdon?”

Medice looked up, “Possibly. It could be a coincidence. Probably not though, the engraving on this watch is quite intricate.”

Blood drained from Richard’s cheeks as the potential consequences for his prisoner dying rose in his mind. The Baron wasn’t someone who was known for his forgiving nature. “You’ve got to save him.”

“I’ve made him comfortable. if I had some mandrake root then I could do more, but the supplies here are limited.” Medice smiled sadly. “It’s a shame the young man looks to be coming into the prime of his life, I’m sure he’ll be mourned.”

“Mandrake root? We can get Mandrake root.” Richard said, rising to his feet.

“Hmmm yes that would be very helpful. Also a mixing bowl, spoon, some lemons, sugar and chilled water.” He looked Richard in the eye. “Feel free to make notes if you need to.”

Minutes later the guard rushed out of the cell to run his errands. All things considered, Medice thought that today was shaping up to be a good day.

**

“I got everything,” Richard gasped as he rushed into the cell. It had taken him under an hour to return with the items. “How is he?”

“Well, he’s alive.” Medice opened his eyes from his nap and took the proffered items in hand. He worked quickly and efficiently with a surgeon's precision. First he split and squeezed the lemons carefully into the bowl before pouring in the sugar and water. The resultant cloudy mixture was whisky in the bowl for several minutes. Finally satisfied that all the sugar had dissolved, Medice poured the elixir into the cup and took a sip. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

“It’s done? Will the medicine cure him?” Richard was near frantic with concern now. Snowdon’s breathing was slow and shallow. His face seemed pale in the dim light and Richard feared he was fading fast.

“Medicine, what oh yes.” Medice reached down and firmly grasped the unconscious prisoner's jaw, prying his mouth wide then lifted his tongue, placing the bitter mandrake root beneath it. Content that his patient was treated, Medice sat back and took a satisfying sip of lemonade, then offered the glass to the guard. “Drink this lemonade while we wait for him to wake up, it’ll help settle your nerves.”

Richard blinked twice, “Thanks?” His gaze was fixed on the prisoner. Hoping for a sign that the man would recover consciousness soon.

“Not a problem,” Medice said smiling as he rose and moved quietly towards the door. It closed with a firm clang as the lock fastened. Medice thrust the narrow end of the spoon through the keyhole, even if Richard had the key to the cell on him it’d hopefully take him a few minutes to dislodge the bent spoon.

Time to leave. He lifted the bowl to his lips and took a huge noisy slurp of the remaining mixture, then strode up the stairs towards the street taking them two at a time.

Emerging onto the street he stood and blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

Today was turning out to be a lovely day, but it really was time to relocate. A man of his talents should ideally live somewhere he is properly appreciated, or at the very least not known by the local constabulary.

**

Medice Delictum - Level 1 Rogue

Strength 10

Intelligence 16

Wisdom 5

Dexterity 18

Constitution 14

Charisma 10

Hit Points: 8

Experience Points: 0 / 1,200

Equipment: Medical Kit

Skills:

Medicine (I) - Can apply routine medical knowledge to a patient, healing 1-6 points of damage. This can only be applied once to a specific wound. Requires use of a Medical kit.

Detect Trap (I) - Allows the user an increased chance of detecting traps.

Pick Lock (I) - Allows the user an increased chance of picking a lock successfully.