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Post by Treijim on Feb 1, 2007 18:21:52 GMT 9.5
Troy had avoided numerous traps only while climbing the staircase. He came to the conclusion that the place was literally a house of traps.
"Someone has to be here to work all of this," he whispered, but in the dead silence his whisper was answered by light footsteps.
If Daven's hearing was acute, he would have heard the floorboards beneath him creak in pain. Below the Ildemin was a basement, and the only thing supporting him was rotten floorboards. Any sudden movement could bring them down.
The room Andy checked looked like a study but it was not as trashed as the rest. Judging by the scattered papers of designs for traps, it looked like someone was using the room to plan their housing defences.
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Post by Max Füchs on Feb 9, 2007 16:42:45 GMT 9.5
Due to the kind of animal his 'physical deformations' belonged to, Daven's hearing was acute. As such, he did hear the floorboards creak, but discounted them. This would turn out to be detrimental.
The floorboards broke beneath his weight as he moved forward heavily, causing him to fall down with a loud crash that the others probably could hear.
Oww...dammit. He thought, groaning and only partially conscious. I should've paid more attention.
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Post by Treijim on Feb 9, 2007 16:46:29 GMT 9.5
[Yay for 333 posts]
Troy had just stepped into a hallway when he heard the crash from downstairs. Cursing beneath his breath, he turned and glanced down the staircase. He wanted to call out to see if anyone was hurt, but he didn't because it would let this criminal know where he was. Still, it's not like he doesn't already know.
The basement was dark and dank but the light streaming in from above revealed a half of the room. The walls were crumbling brick and crates lined it, roughly arranged like dice thrown in a gambling game. There was a breathing in the basement, too, and it sounded quite human. It was coming from the deepest shadows.
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Post by Max Füchs on Feb 9, 2007 17:13:51 GMT 9.5
"Unh..." Daven groaned as he slowly stood up, shaking his head. What is this room?
He looked around the lit area, raising an eyebrow. Hmm...was this room used for storage? Huh?
His ears had picked up the breathing and he looked around, narrowing his eyes. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword.
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Post by Fire Sirena on Feb 11, 2007 10:38:50 GMT 9.5
She looked at the possible traps. She then moved on to a different room. Slowly creeping in she saw a web of trip wires. She had to bend in all sorts of positions to maneuver to a crevice in the room. She looked in the crack and out came a horde of mice. They tripped about half of the wires. Arrows flew at her but she managed to grab a hold of the ceiling. She climbed out of the room and headed up another corridor.
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Post by Treijim on Feb 11, 2007 15:15:31 GMT 9.5
The breathing in the basement stopped when Daven reached for his weapon. As his eyes would have been adjusting to the darkness, he would have seen that that corner of the basement was indeed empty. In a few places on the floor, certain tiles stood up slightly higher than the rest. Across the other side of the basement was an old wooden door.
The corridor Sirena came to seemed normal. There were no visible trip-wires or anything that looked harmful. Light from outside streamed in from an open door at the end of the passage, on the right. From this room came a soft voice, seemingly talking to itself.
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Post by Max Füchs on Mar 13, 2007 10:24:58 GMT 9.5
Hmm... Daven though. I wonder what's behind the door....
He approached the doorway cautiously. His hand reached for the handle and went to turn it.
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Post by Treijim on Mar 16, 2007 0:25:56 GMT 9.5
As Daven went for the door, a voice began to murmur from within -- the kind of voice that talks to itself when reading something that requires utmost thought. The voice would grow louder and quieter irregularly and a dim light lined the wooden door. No traps activated. Yet.
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Post by Max Füchs on Apr 14, 2007 18:34:54 GMT 9.5
((Now that I'm not busy being hospitalised...here is my post!)
Daven froze cautiously, ears twitching as he heard the voice. He attempted to focus on it, ears pricking forward, as his paw moved away from the handle.
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Post by Treijim on Apr 15, 2007 11:54:20 GMT 9.5
[Eek, hope you're okay!]
The voice stopped as this happened, and scurrying footsteps came from behind it. It was mumbling again and sounded as though whoever was behind it was moving towards the door.
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Post by Max Füchs on Apr 15, 2007 22:01:42 GMT 9.5
(I'm better now, thankfully. It was close though.)
Uh-oh. Daven thought, taking a step back. His paw returned to the hit of his sword as he stared at the door. I wonder if this is him, so I can collect the bounty. I need to beat that girl.
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Post by Treijim on Apr 17, 2007 21:06:06 GMT 9.5
The door swung open and there stood a man with a long black mustache. He stared at Daven with narrow eyes. He then eyed the sword on Daven's belt and stepped back into the room, going to close the door again.
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Post by Max Füchs on Apr 17, 2007 21:30:01 GMT 9.5
He took out a scroll and unrolled it, laying it on the table. There was a portrait of a man wearing an odd hat with a long black moustache. Troy let them both get a good look at it and then he put it away again.
"That's our man." Daven flashed back mentally to when he had been given his target. He had looked at the man who appeared at the door.
He blocked the door. "Who are you?"
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Post by Treijim on Apr 19, 2007 14:29:13 GMT 9.5
The man stumbled back with a worried look.
"Who do you think I am?" he said, quickly gaining confidence. "Who are you? One of my goons? I don't recognise you..."
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Post by Max Füchs on Apr 19, 2007 18:04:32 GMT 9.5
"Not a goon, more of a recruit of sorts." Daven lied. "I heard I could make some money by coming here, but I never was given your name."
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