Gangs of Kalamshan
The prison was dark and damp, reeking of piss and shite. He’d only been caught hours before but already he was looking for his ticket out. The Ghost had immediately identified several possible weak points the moment he had set foot in this shit-hole.
Footsteps echoed down the long isolated corridor. As he lay in the cell pretending to sleep he noticed that these were not the steps of a tired prison guard, but the purposeful steps of someone confident and important. “Were they already coming for his execution?” the Ghost wondered to himself. “Surely they wouldn’t kill him this quickly?” Just then an almost regal figure stepped into view, looking down his long nose in disgust at what he saw.
“You don’t belong here,” the General stated very matter-of-factly. “Your skills are too valuable to let die. I’ll cut to the chase. I’m here to make a deal. Your freedom, and a little money, for some simple contract work. What do you say?” The Ghost initially laughed at the thought of working for the government but quickly reassessed as the executioner stepped into view behind the General. They weren’t kidding. “I’m in,” the Ghost said with a smile. He could always escape later and they were practically setting him free already.
“Good. Pack your bags,” The General said as he walked away down the corridor. “You leave for the Arpathian Desert in one hour.”