Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-17114085-20160205120927/@comment-24696651-20160208180632

(Sorry Harold, I posted that second post before I saw your reply.)

Cynric crept through the shadows, cloaked by the darkness. He'd already had to kill a few more guards - their corpses were hidden at the bottom of a variety of pit traps, which he'd since covered with metal grilles and torn down doors. He worked slowly and methodically, disabling each trap as he came to it, but making sure its broken nature was not apparent. While he couldn't disable every trap, he could at least make life easier for Riften's soldiers. He had already planted four of the five caches of jewellery when he heard the holler of a bandit.

"Torolf's dead!"

Cynric swore under his breath. He could already hear the bandits' footsteps echoing along the hallways. He quickly slid into a side passage as the footsteps suddenly got louder. When they'd gone away again, he crept out into the open. Now that the alarm was sounded, he couldn't afford to disable the traps. Instead, he sprinted down the corridor, hoping his footsteps would be indistinguishable from the bandits, and placed the final cache of jewellery. He then pulled out his back-up plan - five bottles of incredibly corrsive and incredibly flammable Fire Acid potion, which he'd stolen from an alchemist some time ago.

He ran up back to the tower, coming across two bandits who he prompty stabbed in the face, then leapt off onto the ramparts. The bandits were all inside looking for the intruder, so he had time to uncork the bottles and distribute their contents along the walls.

He pulled out a rope and, once he was sure it was securely fastened, poured some of the potion over it, before lighting one end and quickly climbed down the tower. He went to find his horse, but about twenty seconds later, he could hair a great whump of air.

He turned around, to see a great ring of fire rise from the walls.