Palurin

Well Accidents DO Happen

...and sometimes they are accidents.

There is nothing better when Plan B suddenly jumps a few letter of the alphabet. All of Gnome Mountain swears by this, my old mentor Aripip, swears by it, and now I swear by it. To preface, Bardie the Schizo wanted a distraction at the that slaver’s house, so I gave him one. Sure while the smoke bombs WOULD have been effective, I didn’t have my kit and I am no mage. So the word of the day was improvisation and improvisation meant throwing a vodka fire-bomb out the window and one into the library.

Okay, maybe I didn’t throw as if I had a purpose, but rather I lit the damn thing and thought, “Now what?” Granted, dropping it outside the dining room doors may not have been the brightest, but it was enough to allow the new stock of slaves to escape. There was quite a lot of clanking, grunting, and struggling, even through the solid floor.

The library, was as I like to think of it, further security towards the impromptu escape plan. It’s a nice house, slave built or not, it was an effort worth preserving. So the more guards putting out the fire was less guards on us when we made out escape. Granted again, my formula tome and Bardie’s spellbook might have been in there, but by the time I thought about it there was a decent amount of smoke coming out, so all I had was the hope they were still with our stuff when we first got captured.

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Mr_Wednesday

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