Through one of the few windows of the Dragon Ham tavern, with a crack of broken glass, a stool flew out, miraculously missing the head of a skinny student approaching this establishment. He, in turn, jumped in surprise and hurried to approach the entrance to the tavern, simultaneously moving away from the window from which a mug had already flown out, splashing the remains of ale. From the broken window one could clearly hear drunken singing, screams, laughter and the innkeeper’s bass voice shouting over it all. Having gathered his courage, already doubting that he had chosen the right place to spend a Friday evening, the student pushed the heavy door of the tavern.
In the chaos inside the room, no one cared about the new visitor. The spacious tavern was packed to capacity with visitors, most of whom watched with amusement the scene unfolding before their eyes.
Under the broken window stood a dwarf with an alarmed look and a long beard decorated with rings of different metals. Opposite him, holding another stool in her hand, stood a very tall and large dwarf
“Brynhild, dear, I’m telling you, I didn’t even look in the direction of that waitress,” the dwarf justified himself, without taking his eyes off the stool.
– Shut up, pig! I saw you staring at her ass, you horny little brat! – the dwarf shouted at him, clearly taking aim for a new throw.
Some of the spectators were betting on how many times Brynhild would hit the dwarf. A drunken elf balancing on a table nearby tried unsuccessfully to calm her down:
– Hilda, stop. It’s not his fault… hic… That waitress really is a beauty,” he said indistinctly, taking a sip from his mug.
The dwarf looked at him angrily and forcefully threw the stool at the elf’s head. A well-thrown projectile sent the hapless elf flying, and the crowd roared in delight.
– Brynhildr, you troll with tits, stop destroying my tavern! – said the portly man standing behind the bar in a deep bass voice.
-Who did you call a troll??! – the dwarf roared and rushed towards the innkeeper, with very unfriendly intentions.
The crowd in her path parted like foliage in a strong wind. The dwarf, in turn, sighed tiredly and headed towards the elf lying on the floor.
The student looked around for a free table, but everything was occupied by drinking groups or simply suspicious individuals. Then he noticed a lonely table standing in the far corner of the tavern. A bearded one-eyed sailor sat at the table and looked in his direction with a good-natured smile.
There were no other options anyway and the student went to the sailor.
– Apparently this is your first time here, yes? – asked the sailor.
“Yes,” he answered, sitting down at the table. – And it’s so noticeable?
– Yes, yes. My name is One-Eyed Wolf.
– Robert. Nice to meet you, sir,” the student extended his hand for a handshake.
Wolf, ignoring this gesture, took a sip from his mug.
— It’s usually quieter here than today. "Rumbling" celebrate a successful business.
– "Rumbling"?
– Yeah, mercenaries. Brynhildr, whose performance you saw and her hubby is from there. I don’t know how he married her, they say it was by force. – and chuckled again and took a sip of ale.
Robert also decided to order something to drink, especially since the dwarf had clearly calmed down, and the innkeeper, rubbing his shoulder, stood up from behind the bar, but in place of his wallet there was only emptiness. He began to anxiously rummage through his pockets, but there was no trace left of his money.
– I noticed, but? – Wolf asked. – That’s how it’s easy to determine that you’re here for the first time.
– Do you know who stole my wallet?? – Robert asked excitedly.
– Certainly. You just need to politely ask that person over there,” the sailor pointed to a figure in a traveling cloak, with a shock of red hair, who was sitting at the same table with a dwarf and a revived elf.
Swallowing, Robert stood up and wondered if his meager finances were worth disturbing these mercenaries? They’re probably thugs. Who else in our time is capable of becoming a mercenary?? What will they do to him at home when they find out that he is left without money?? But the sight of the company gathered at the table did not inspire horror. They looked more like ordinary residents of Gestelburg than bloodthirsty killers, and Robert decided.
With an unsteady gait, looking around, he approached the table and, turning to the red-haired man, mumbled:
– P… Sorry, they told me that you might have my wallet. Could you please return it. Please.
The tired eyes of the dwarf, the swollen face of the elf and the wide smile of the redhead stared at him. Although there was not a hint of threat in their gazes, Robert’s soul sank to his feet.
“Oh yes, I remember,” the red-haired man said cheerfully. — You stood at the entrance and stared open-mouthed at Brynhildr, not taking care of your property at all. “Here,” the bag of coins flew into the air and Robert frantically tried to catch it, but to no avail.
– Staring, you say. Rufus, maybe he’ll take her away from me, huh?? — the dwarf asked with amusement in his voice, causing friendly laughter at the table
Robert bent down for the bag, breaking out in a cold sweat from excitement. Finally picking it up and putting it safely in his pocket, he stood up and met the gaze of Brynhildr, who had appeared out of nowhere, clutching a mug full of ale in one hand, and a ham of mutton in the other.
-Who is Ove?? – she asked, turning to the dwarf and taking a bite of meat. – Do you think I won’t be jealous if you start cheating on me with boys??
Another burst of laughter echoed across the table, Brynhildr laughed the loudest. Robert had already begun to back away in order to get as far away from the mercenaries as possible when a cry was heard from a table nearby:
– Hey Liviu! My friend, he doesn’t believe that you are the best shooter in this tavern!
— Ha! No one dares to doubt the accuracy of Liviu Falana – the elf, with difficulty, rose from the table and jumped on him. – Where is my bow?!? I’ll prove it to you all! I need a volunteer! – he managed to shout out, losing his balance and falling to the floor, taking part of the contents of the table with him.
Robert took another step back and was about to run, but his back came across an obstacle. Turning around, he saw a huge bald orc in a sorcerer’s robe, who crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him with an unblinking gaze. Further events happened too quickly for the poor student, but as a result he found himself leaning against the wall, an apple lay on his head, and Liviu stood about ten meters from him, and under the gaze of everyone gathered, he staggeredly put an arrow on the string. Robert, looking at the bow swinging from side to side in the elf’s hands, closed his eyes and began to say goodbye to this mortal world.
There was the sound of a lowered bowstring. The crowd roared, and something sticky flowed down Robert’s forehead. Opening his eyes, he realized that he was still alive.
-Who else would dare to doubt my accuracy?!? — Liviu took a sip from the mug that was in his hands.
“Yes, it wasn’t far from here, and the apple was big,” came a cry from the crowd.
– Oh, so! — the archer turned around and, with a hasty, wobbling gait, headed to the farthest end of the tavern.
Robert’s cottony legs began to move without the owner’s knowledge. Leaving the apple nailed to the wall by an arrow, he rushed to the exit of the tavern with enviable speed. He still managed to hear the surprised gasp of the crowd behind him when Liviu, turning sharply and almost without aiming, fired an arrow, which, having split the previous one, pierced into the same place, and then, having lost his balance, once again fell flat on the floor. But Robert was already running down the street, away from the tavern.
The events that provided such https://iplwincasino.co.uk/mobile-app/ a festive evening for the “Roar” mercenary detachment began two days ago.
On the outskirts of the Gestelburg shopping district, in an alley, next to a heavy oak door there hung a sign that read:
“Security office “Rokhot”
seizure of property, security of real estate,
calling debtors to responsibility, orders for support „
Despite the ban on mercenary activities in the city, everyone perfectly understood the type of activity of such offices. And “Roar” had its own, although not the most honorable in mercenary circles, fame. This was mainly due to the slight touch of unpredictability that appeared once they took on the task. The reason for this was mainly the diverse composition of the group.
In total, the squad consisted of six. Zusman Sternkuker, a dwarf a little over a meter tall, with graying curly hair and ever-squinting, shifting eyes, was the main force holding the squad together. Most likely well-connected, even among city pigeons, he managed the finances, found work and was the head of the whole group. It is also worth mentioning the patience with which he dealt with the consequences of “failed” contracts every time.
The reason for such failures was often Brynhild Hansen, whose violent temper, due to his patience, could only be curbed by her husband Ove. She had simply monstrous strength, was larger in size than the vast majority of dwarves, and preferred to resolve disputes with weapons. Ove liked to collect boats in bottles. No one knew how such dissimilar dwarves ended up together, but there were many rumors.
The squad also included two magicians. Rufus Schreyer is an illusionist wanted by many in the city for his passion for theft. Everyone who knew Rufus did not let him out of their house without a thorough search, and those who did not know were missing out on their property. At the same time, he stole haphazardly, and without benefit to himself. All you had to do was ask him for a stolen item and he would return it. To the questions "why"?”, answering evasively that “theft is an art and I am a creator, not a robber”. The second magician was Ganzorig – a shaven-headed, menacing-looking orc. To this statement, any person on the entire continent would say that orcs cannot be magicians, they do not have the ability to do so. And I would be right. But seeing the look of Ganzorig, dressed in a robe and clutching his steel-clad staff, people quickly changed their minds. No one saw how Ganzorig cast a spell, since those who wanted to see it became familiar with his staff too quickly.
The last member of the squad was Liviu Falan – an elf who was never seen sober. There were no sharp shooters like him in the whole city, and everyone could only guess how well he could shoot when sober. The answer, known to very few, was terrible. In the absence of alcohol in his blood, he literally became a different person, afraid of everything in the world, wanting to hide as far as possible in the darkest corner, and not emerge from there until at least a sip of saving liquid appeared in his sight.
It was a normal Wednesday morning. Liviu, with a pained look, peeked around the corner, waiting for Ove and Rufus, who had gone into town on business, to finally return. Ganzorig was doing something in his room, and Brynhildr was pacing back and forth, grumbling.
– When will this damned Zusman find us a job?? We’ve been sitting idle for two weeks now. Two weeks! We will soon have nothing to eat. Liviu, get out of there already.
The elf’s head disappeared completely.
A few minutes later the door opened and a gnome, a dwarf and a man entered.
— Liviu! – shouted Ove, shaking a bottle of brandy. – You can go out!
The elf flew out from around the corner and grabbed the bottle, taking a good sip from it. His face immediately brightened and he said with joy in his voice:
– Ove, you saved my life again. I don’t even know how to thank you.
– For starters, I could stop drinking for five. Do you have any idea how much all the alcohol you consume costs?? – Zusman said with a frown.
– Zus, buddy, don’t be so strict. You could always find us a job so that we wouldn’t die of hunger.
– Always, until this moment! – Brynhildr, who approached, barked. – Why the hell didn’t you find anything??
“You seem to have forgotten how much the incident with the troll in the temple cost us.”? Or who bears the main blame for all that chaos?? Brynhildr, I’m trying my best to find us a job, but after this incident, few people want to do business with us at all and you know it very well.
“It’s not that much of my fault,” she answered, slightly embarrassed.
“Stop quarreling already,” Ove stood between them. – Brunhilda, you know very well that he is doing everything he can, besides, Zusman found us a job. Isn’t it true?
– Yes, I found it. A group of professors from the University of Gestelburg gathered to conduct a study of giant cave spiders in their natural habitat, and they need protection. The expedition is scheduled for next week.
“Crawling through caves and fighting off spiders is not the brightest prospect,” Liviu took another sip from the bottle. — How long will the expedition take?? And how much will we be paid??
“Three days,” Zusman headed towards his office, clearly not intending to answer such slippery questions. – Enough questions! I still have some paperwork to sort out, so don’t bother me about trifles.
Liviu shrugged his shoulders and headed into the city, because the brandy was quickly running out. Ove and Brynhildr went to their room, and Rufus stretched out on the sofa, began to read a freshly stolen brochure. It turned out to be a carelessly made yet another divine revelation from a local cult that is gaining popularity. Having turned the next page, he was about to throw it away, when the door opened with a creak, and a tall man, wrapped in a camp cloak, with a hood thrown over his head, entered the room.
— You are the mercenaries “Roar”? – a hoarse voice came from under the hood.
“Exactly right,” Rufus jumped up from the sofa. – What business are you on??
– Order.
– Hm. Then I’ll ask you to wait a little. – and without taking his eyes off the stranger, Rufus headed towards the office.
Opening the door and seeing Zusman’s dissatisfied face, he said:
– We have a client here.
– Well, what are you waiting for?? — the displeasure disappeared from the gnome’s face, along with some of the papers from the table. – Call him here.
Rufus turned around to call the guest, but the stranger had already slipped past him into the office and forcefully closed the door behind him.
— Who do I have the honor to communicate with, and for what specific matter did you come to us?? — a honeyed business smile spread across Zusman’s face.
– What my name is doesn’t matter. — the stranger sat down at the chair opposite. – I need you to steal one thing from the house of the Count Marquis de Vendôme.
“Get straight to the point, well then,” said the dwarf with a serious face. — This is a very serious order and the amount for its implementation will not be small. The Marquis de Vendôme is a famous collector who does not skimp on protecting his collection; I will say more, his vaults are securely hidden and have magical alarms. And I will need your name to draw up a contract, not to mention..
The stranger stopped him with one movement of his hand.
— This thing is a wooden box, made of ebony. Located in his chambers. How much will it cost? – he asked in a tone clearly not aimed at further discussion.
“Three hundred gold marks,” Zusman blurted out, a price comparable to an order for a young dragon.
A hand appeared from under the cloak and threw a heavy, clanking bag of coins onto the table.
– This is an advance. There are five hundred marks here. I’ll pay the same amount if you have the box on Friday.
Only professionalism prevented Zusman’s jaw from falling on the table and allowed him to pull himself together.
— They don’t offer a thousand marks for wooden boxes. Is it really possible that something so valuable will stand unattended in the chambers??
“If you don’t realize the value, it will,” the stranger stood up from the table. – Take it?
– But we need to discuss it with all members of the group and..
The man extended his hand for the advance payment lying on the table.
– Let’s take it! – Zusman shouted, almost breaking into a squeal.
“The day after tomorrow,” said the stranger and quickly left the office.
Zusman just sat there for a while, staring at the bag of coins, then nervously untied it and counted the money. Exactly five hundred gold marks. Having put the money back, he moved the picture on the wall, put the bag in the safe behind it, and then looked out of the office and shouted with all his might:
– Meeting!
– One thousand marks! For the box! Where does this count live??! — clutching the ax in her hands, and with delight on her face, Brynhild was about to leave the room.
“Brynhild, dear, if you just break into the count’s house, they will kill you, and then we will be hanged in turn,” Ove leaned against the door and combed his beard. – We need a plan.
“That’s right Ova,” Zusman was already figuring out how much gold from the advance payment would be spent on bribes to find out patrol routes, reduce the number of guards, bribe possible witnesses and create a reliable alibi. — Count Marquis de Vendôme is a famous person in the city. With a decent collection of antiques, jewelry and all kinds of art. His country villa is stuffed with personal security, fortunately he has made enough enemies for himself.
“Since he has enemies, all the more so you can simply kill everyone and no one will even twitch,” Brynhild squeezed the ax even more tightly.
“Or I’ll just sneak out at night, steal the box and be done with it,” Rufus intervened.
A meaningless cacophony of voices filled the room. The meeting participants shouted out their proposals during a break, until Ganzorig, who was sitting silently in the corner, roared:
– Silence!
Everyone fell silent at once and stared at the orc.
– Let the gnome speak.
Zusman cleared his throat and nodded slightly and spoke:
– So. Tomorrow night, you will make your way to the Count’s estate. I’ll find out the patrol schedule, so it won’t be difficult to slip through. The main thing is not to make noise in the building itself. Therefore Brynhildr, Ganzorig and Liviu will remain outside. Rufus and Ove sneak in, take the box from the bedroom, and quietly leave. Nothing complicated. Questions?
“I can be quiet too,” came the elf’s voice.
– No, you can’t. As are you Brynhildr. And don’t make such a face, you know it very well yourself! The discussion is over,” Zusman took his cloak and put on his hood. – Don’t burn everything here while I’m gone.
The rich estate was located outside the city, and was surrounded by a beautiful garden, with several fountains, a labyrinth and a greenhouse. Statues and magical lanterns lined the paved paths, with armed guards staggering past in small groups. Zusman actually obtained the proposed patrol schedule. The inconsistencies were that the security itself didn’t care about the schedule. Instead of four groups that were supposed to ply the perimeter with dogs, there were three. One of which was sleeping in its entirety in the gazebo, and all the dogs were on a leash.
In addition, it was known that the Marquis de Vendome did not tolerate “these dirty, unfeigned louts” inside his wonderful estate. Therefore, there was no one inside except the closest servants and the count himself.
A group of our heroes lay on a small mound, safely hidden by the illusion of a bush, next to the wall surrounding the estate, and whispered.
– So what next??
“After that patrol over there passes, we’ll climb over the wall and enter from the back entrance.”. Ove and I go inside, you stay outside.
– I will if a patrol passes there?
– I don’t know, hide. We’ll most likely be back sooner.
Then a voice reached them from behind the fence:
– Uh, Mark. Don’t you remember, there used to be a bush on this hill?
Five thieves pressed into the ground, under the cover of illusion.
– What do I care about the bush?. Go ahead.
– Well, this is strange. Bushes don’t appear overnight.
– Well, then this is a magical bush, and under it sits a leprechaun with a bag of gold.
– Is it true?
– No, you idiot! Come on, you were hired to patrol, not to stare at the bushes.
The two figures continued to walk along the wall, gradually moving away.
— The main thing is not to get caught in the light of the streetlights. Went!
Rufus ran to the wall first and pulled himself up to look behind it. Nobody. Liviu followed him, but had to be pushed due to his drunken state. Ganzorig gave Ove and Brynhild a ride and was the last to climb over. Everyone immediately dived into the nearest shadow and ran towards the estate. A couple of times, Liviu fell, stumbling in the dark, without ever spilling a drop from his bottle of cheap brandy, and had to be picked up.
– Why the hell did we even take him with us?? – asked Brunhild.
“Habit,” Ove answered.
After a few more minutes of running around, they finally reached the back entrance.
– Everything is according to plan. “We’ll be quick,” Rufus said, and together with Ove, pushing the door, which turned out to be unlocked, he went inside.
Having passed through a room cluttered with all kinds of equipment, they found themselves in the vast hallway of the house. A richly decorated staircase led to the second floor.
“The bedroom is upstairs,” Rufus whispered and they began to climb the stairs.
On the second floor of the room there were both sides, and it was not possible to determine which of them belonged to the owner.
“I go to the right, you go to the left,” said Rufus, heading towards the golden candlestick.
“Just don’t pocket everything you can get your hands on,” the dwarf whispered after him, but apparently to no avail, the candlestick had already disappeared.
Sighing, he headed further down the corridor. Carefully opening the doors, Ove discovered four empty bedrooms, a bathroom and an office. Having examined these rooms, the dwarf did not find anything resembling a box. Coming back out into the corridor, Ove went to check how Rufus was doing, but heard footsteps and whispers below. Taking out his short sword from its scabbard, he silently approached the stairs and looked down. Two figures, very different in height, looked around and whispered about something.
— Brynhildr, Ganzorig! What are you doing here? – Putting away the sword, the dwarf began to go down the stairs.
— This alcohol-soaked eared pig has disappeared! – Brynhild blurted out, a tone higher than it should have been.
– Quiet, darling, please. We haven’t found the box yet and there’s no point in waking up the whole house.
“Sorry,” the dwarf whispered and continued, with the volume gradually increasing again. — We were waiting for you outside until we noticed that he had disappeared. And you’ve been busy here for so long that the patrol has already returned. We had no choice but to enter here.
– Okay, let’s find Liviu before he does anything. He’s most likely on the first floor.
The elf was actually in the building. When Liviu ran out of alcohol, a wonderful thought came to his mind that the count would probably have some on his estate, and since everyone needed to be quiet, he would sneak into the house quietly, without distracting his partners, who were intensely looking for someone. Relying completely on his intuition, Liviu walked through the reception hall and after several turns in the dark house, he came across a door that looked suspiciously like a cellar door.
The door was open and after taking a few steps in the darkness along the steps, the elf stumbled and flew down. Finding himself in a dimly lit cellar, rubbing his bruised head, he looked up at the rows of all kinds of expensive wines lined up on racks along the walls. But besides the wine, there was another person in the basement. An elderly bearded man, clutching an uncorked bottle of wine in his hand, looked at the elf stretched out on the floor. Then his gaze slid over the bow thrown behind his back and the arrows sticking out from there. The man’s hands, still clutching the bottle, slowly rose up.
– If you rob, then I didn’t see anything. The storage behind that wall opens if you pull the third bottle on the right, in the seventh row, on the twelfth rack..
– Wait, wait. Don’t chatter like that. – Liviu rose to his feet with awkward movements. “We didn’t come here to rob.”. That is, rob, but not a storage facility. I came here for a drink.
The man, with obvious relief, handed the bottle to Liviu. The elf took a sip, appreciating the rich fruity bouquet of the expensive drink, and asked:
– There’s nothing stronger here?
– No. The Count drinks only wine.
– Clear. No problem, it will do.
Approaching the nearest rack, Liviu began to take out bottles one by one and put them in his bag.
-Who are you anyway??
— Wojciech Brzeczyszczykiewicz, gardener.
– Przeszcz… shesh… tskewch..- Liviu stuttered once again, looked away from the bottles of wine and looked at Wojciech. – How did you pronounce it??
— Many years of practice.
-What are you doing in the basement?.
“I’m drinking the count’s wine,” the gardener said with a shrug.- This arrogant miser pays pennies, so I drink his wine at night.
– How long have you been working for him?? — the elf asked smiling.
— Ten years.
Liviu again began packing the wine into a bag when two dwarves flew into the basement bristling with weapons, and after them a huge orc appeared blocking the passage. Wojciech’s hands flew up again and he began to babble:
– I didn’t see you, don’t kill me. The storage behind that wall opens if you pull the third bottle on the right, in the seventh row, on the twelfth rack..
— Liviu! What the hell are you doing here! — the dwarf attacked the elf
– Brynhildr, my dear, be quiet. – the dwarf hissed at her.
The orc approached the pale Wojciech.
— What’s in the storage?
– Well, weapons, paintings, gold. I don’t know exactly, I’m a gardener. Don’t kill.
– Weapon? – Brynhild asked, stopping shaking the Elf. – Show me where the weapons are!
Rufus had no idea what was happening downstairs. He successfully examined almost all the rooms, taking from there: a gilded monocle, a butler’s tailcoat, a smoking pipe, two silver goblets and a work on the problems of modern alchemy. Carefully opening the last door, he looked inside. It was the most ornate room of all. Gold and silver sparkled under the ceiling in the light of the large fireplace. The walls were decorated with paintings, a huge carved bed made of dark wood stood against one of the walls. And next to it on the chest of drawers stood a dark wooden box. Carefully walking to the chest of drawers, Rufus took the box and was about to leave here safely, but then the whole house was shaken by a piercing howl, and the awakened figure in the bed stared at him.
– Brynhildr, why did you grab that damn ax?!? – Ove shouted trying to shout over the siren.
The five of them stood in the middle of a vault filled with superbly crafted weapons, antiques and treasures. The dwarf was clutching an ax in her hands, which had just been taken from the rack.
“Just look how beautiful she is,” Brunhild looked at her with delight, not paying attention to the siren.
– Let’s run! Urgently! All the security will come running here now! — Ove grabbed Brynhildr by the hand and dragged her to the stairs.
Ganzorig overtook them, was the first to fly out of the basement and ran to the exit. Behind him came Ove and Brynhild with a new axe, and Liviu clutching his bag. Two guards who were on duty outside and heard the siren ran into the house from the front entrance and were clearly wondering whether to wait for help or go themselves, when an orc flew out from around the corner towards them. Ganzorig, without slowing down, broke the skull of one and parried the blow of the second, stunning him.
Flashes of lightning flashed from the side of the stairs. Rufus, the hem of his cloak smoking, flew down the stairs, shouting:
– I have the box! Valim!
Following him, the Count appeared in pajamas, with lightning pulsating in his hands.
– Damned Fori, I will incinerate the fas! – the count shouted, launching another lightning bolt after Rufus.
— WIZARD! – Ganzorig roared, easily shouting over the siren. – I am Ganzorig, the strongest sorcerer, I challenge you to battle! Fight and show what you can do!
All squad members knew what would happen next. Zusman did not mention during preparation that the count was an aspiring sorcerer, precisely for this reason. Ganzorig was obsessed with the idea of fighting with magicians in order to prove that he was stronger, and the best that the rest of the squad could do in such a situation was to quickly flee from the mansion.
— Dirty Orc! How dare you address me like that!
A bolt of lightning fell from the count’s fingers and struck Ganzorig. Twitching slightly, he just bared his teeth and began to climb the stairs. The Marquis retreated and immediately struck the orc with a scattering of lightning, but he slowed down under the pressure and continued to rise. The count’s face was distorted by horror and, with a scream, a fiery stream burst out of his hands. The orc was engulfed in flames, his robe caught fire, as did the stairs around him, but Ganzorig seemed not to pay attention to it. Having shortened the remaining distance, with one blow of his staff he literally crushed the count to the floor, and surrounded by rapidly spreading fire, he tore off the burning mantle with a cry:
– I am the strongest magician!
At this moment, the remaining members of the squad ran out of the back door into the street, and with maximum speed, headed towards the wall. The guards dozing in the gazebo and patrols ran to the main entrance of the mansion, alarmed by all this noise, and did not notice the figures rapidly moving away from it. At the wall, naked and steaming in the cool night, Ganzorig caught up with the others, and having jumped over the wall, the perpetrators of the incident continued to run further and further, from the gradually burning mansion. If any of them had turned around, they would have noticed Wojciech running out after them, hung with gold jewelry and clutching a chest filled with coins.
After five minutes of running, when they were already far enough away, everyone just fell exhausted. Having caught his breath, Rufus asked Ove, who was sitting next to him:
“We snuck into the house, robbed and killed the owner, and then set him on fire.”. We generally had a chance that everything would go according to plan?
– Look at them.
Rufus looked. Liviu, stretched out on the grass, was already emptying his second bottle of wine. Brunhild, with a blissful smile, stroked her new ax. Ganzorig stood at full height, covered in burns, and grinned solemnly towards the burning mansion.
– Yes, you are right.
– Rufus, give me back my wallet.
– Of course Ove.