As the sun peeked over the eastern horizon and beamed its first rays of dawnlight over Caliga, the prince of Snjórland regained consciousness from the depths of dreamland. Despite having almost every ounce of his energy reserves dried up the previous night, Gyllen's few hours of sleep were anything but sound, having been stuck in the exact same position on his side all night long by his unsolicited bedmate (or rather, mattressmate) preventing him from readjusting his posture even in the slightest from the way she kept such a tight embrace on him from behind. The blond was starting to feel cramps in his shoulders, biceps and knees, and his right arm had gone close to numb from lying on it for all that time.
At least now somewhat rested, Gyllen was about to attempt a negotiation with his kidnapper regarding his release, perhaps striking a compromise that he would return to her later that night without grievance, though if this morning's plans went as intended, he would be leaving this gaol before breakfast. With his abductor's mental state in question however, he doubted such a prospect would be so easily achieved as he envisioned. In an effort to rouse his partner awake, Gyllen shook his body from side to side as vigorously as he could while locked in her unbending embrace but it was to little effect. In fact, her hold seemed even more adamant than what he remembered the previous evening, as it refused to falter even in the minutest of ways despite his absolute best efforts.
It was then Gyllen had realised there was something off about the way he was being spooned. For one, he could not hear the winged woman breathe despite her mouth and nose being just behind his ears, neither could he feel her chest raise or lower against his back or feel her hot exhales against his neck. The prince then raised his left hand to where he felt the horned female's arms still wrapped around his chest and - instead of warm, leather-like flesh - Gyllen's fingertips instead met with the unmistakable rugged texture of cold, solid stone!
Turning his neck and shoulders as far around as they were able from his posture, Gyllen was greeted by what resembled the same non-human countenance which leered down on him only a few hours ago, but now it had the appearance of freshly chiselled rock! A lapse in his knowledge made Gyllen misremember the fact that, for reasons long forgotten even by their own kind, a gargoyle's body would petrify to the point where they were completely indistinguishable from statues during daylight hours, with the one who had spirited the prince away being no exception, her face frozen with pure content from now until night descended once more over the prison complex. For any nocturnal being, it was the perfect defence mechanism during periods of sleep, and rightfully earned gargoyles their epithet as true creatures of the night.
Ecstatic from this welcome reminder and not wanting to waste a single second of the opportunity longer than needed, Gyllen set to work slipping himself free from the fossilised female, though such a thing was far easier uttered than accomplish considering the non-existent flexibility of the arms pressed so tightly against his trunk. A fair while of constant wiggling, squeezing and the near dislocation of his clavicle later, the prince was just barely able to slide his slender self from the resilient grasp, though not without scuffing the sleeves of his ruffled shirt and the light skin that lay underneath it in the process. With a sigh of the utmost relief after his blond head passed through her arms - stationary in a ring shape as if she were still holding onto something - the prince staggered onto his feet and finally yanked his jodhpurs up over his waist for the first time since the gargoyle pulled them down last night before peering over the precipice of where the winged woman had nested to size up the next obstacle he had to undertake.
Upon looking directly down from the high perch to the ground floor three stories down, Gyllen was struck with a sudden bout of vertigo. Growing weak in the knees, the boy stumbled (fortunately) backwards, falling onto his bottom and scuttling away from the edge until his back pressed up against the wall opposite, a cold sweat breaking out as he began to hyperventilate. What a time for him to discover his acrophobia! His nerves calmed a short while later and he approached the ledge once more to make a second, more wary peek, this time focusing his stare on the highest walkway instead of the lowest level, though even the distance between that and where he crouched was still a sheer drop roughly ten feet in height.
Though he racked his brains for a good few minutes, the prince simply could not conceive any other choice available to him unless he wished to spend the rest of his day stranded in this recess, and the ensuing night beneath the frame of the gargoyle girl once again. The blond waited until all feeling was restored in his right arm before taking a deep breath of resolve and turning away from the edge, then gripping the ridge tightly in his fingertips and very carefully sliding one bootless foot from off the ledge, followed closely by its counterpart. Gyllen kept his soles firmly planted against the walls while straining every muscle in his arms to hold himself up as he slowly lowered himself down to the balcony below.
It did not take too terribly long before Gyllen found himself dangling loosely with only his hands to support his entire body as they clung to dear life on the fringe above. Even with the lad's entire physique outstretched as much as it possibly could, there was still a fair span between himself and solid ground. As Gyllen hung in place, beginning to regret his foolhardy actions and contemplating his next move, he could feel his fingers begin to slack on the ledge, unable to keep the rest of his body suspended for very much longer. The prince, despite his fears, knew that with his meagre upper body strength there was not a chance he would be able to pull himself back up to the alcove, and instead steeled himself further for the brief fall about to follow. Before his digits slipped off themselves, he released his hold on the ledge by his own volition and sharply plummeted earthwards for a fleeting second, his heart rocketing into his throat in that short time.
The prince landed feet first on the stone catwalk with a resounding thud and a brief pain shooting through his legs, the fact he was currently missing his footwear aside from a pair of white socks certainly did not help lessen the impact either. Soreness notwithstanding, Gyllen was overjoyed that he managed to finally escape from the winged woman's eyrie, though soon remembered he was not out of the woods quite yet. If anything, he had only landed himself into an even more perilous situation as he peered inside the cell he had just dropped in front of to see all six bunks within were filled with inmates of varying species, though each occupant mercifully appeared to be sound asleep despite the fairly audible thump the blond just made not two metres from where they snored.
Warily and unhurried, Gyllen began tip-toeing his way down the walkway, taking particular precaution not to make further startling noises as he passed the various niches holding the criminal women, looking in each one to be extra sure none were awake to see him, the faces of some he recognised the previous evening as those who had been pawing for his body. Fortunately, it appeared none of the residents of the recesses passed were up and about quite yet at this early hour. Gyllen crept along the catwalk for another short while, looking over the entirety of the stronghold dimly lit by a handful of sunbeams streaking through the barred windows, finding a strange eeriness to the stillness of the atmosphere after the night of such havoc - not unlike the melancholy tranquillity which follows devastating thunderstorm - until he reached a corner of the building, which in turn led into a short, stone corridor to his immediate left. It was then Gyllen had realised he had not the slightest notion on his bearings nor how to even navigate the complex.
Not knowing where exactly the hallway would lead, Gyllen decided following it regardless was as good an option as any in his ultimate goal of reaching the bottommost floor before being caught by any of the inmates, the lack of any compartments visible along its walls helping him reach that decision. The prince turned and promptly began walking down the passageway until it split off into two paths leading in opposing directions. Taking the left branch, Gyllen continued his way...only to soon be interrupted by yet another junction, this time selecting a right turn before quickly arriving at a four-way intersection.
Such a thing continued happening for three or four bends more and Gyllen was quickly growing weary of this labyrinthine layout with nothing to distinguish the brick walls from one another, thinking whoever plotted the prison was anything but a believer in intuitive design. Happening upon a another four-way intersection that could very well be the first again, the prince marched directly ahead without so much as glancing down either of the side passages, caution thrown to the wind simply from wanting to find his way out of the infuriating maze as punctually as possible. Little did the frustrated boy realise that his wish was about to be granted very soon.
"Oi!" A female voice suddenly called out from behind as soon as Gyllen had crossed the space where the two corridors met. Naturally, the blond froze in his tracks and hesitantly pivoted around to face the one who had discovered him and was greeted by three separate non-humans of differing races leaning their backs up against the wall behind the corner the prince had just passed, with none of them surpassing much further than four feet in height. From right to left, the trio consisted of a goblin, a dwarf and a kobold, each one sporting relatively cute features by the standards of their respective species and outfitted in simple, mousy garbs consisting of a shirt, slacks and sandals, all with their eyes trained on the male with devious smiles on their miens.
