Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20141217155427/@comment-25038310-20150115111833

Sander glared abit at Syphre. "That damn kid stole my mask-idea.." he said, sounding abit insulted.

"Anyways, sorry I'm late. Don't look at the ceiling, but I've placed explosives that, with some luck, will bring the floor above us down.

A last refuge, I'd say. If things get fucked up badly.

Second, I've stashed a few smoke bombs under the table where the venison is served. A fitting distraction and the means to escape.

He grabbed something from behind his mask - a small glass vial of about a few centimetres. It contained some sort of black liquid.

"This will confuse one of the Stephanie's instincts - smell. So if things get bad, we won't get followed.

A few preperations, small ones."

He sighed.

"How we are going to do this?" He asked eventually.