Slip out onto the roof
From Create Your Own Story
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You will admit that you're a poor fighter, but to survive your childhood on the streets you had to develop lightning-quick reflexes, keen spatial awareness, catlike agility and the speed to run like heck when needed. To meet you in a fair fight (you've heard of them, but aren't really eager to try one) an enemy has to find and catch you first. Also, you're an absolute pacifist by principle, and you are in practise, too, almost all the time! People just don't seem to get that you're not a morning person. | You will admit that you're a poor fighter, but to survive your childhood on the streets you had to develop lightning-quick reflexes, keen spatial awareness, catlike agility and the speed to run like heck when needed. To meet you in a fair fight (you've heard of them, but aren't really eager to try one) an enemy has to find and catch you first. Also, you're an absolute pacifist by principle, and you are in practise, too, almost all the time! People just don't seem to get that you're not a morning person. | ||
| - | As you uncomfortably recall the infamous Linguine Incident, in which you ''may'' have been involved back when you were squatting in the textile district, your heart suddenly skips a beat - your landlord | + | As you uncomfortably recall the infamous Linguine Incident, in which you ''may'' have been involved back when you were squatting in the textile district, your heart suddenly skips a beat - it's your landlord walking down the street, accompanied by two armed thugs! |
| - | You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round | + | You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round globes of your bubble butt protruding behind you. You wince at the pain in your chest and wistfully remember, for the millionth time, how much easier life was when you were just a sweet, trim little thing without stuff bulging out all over the place. |
| - | At any rate, your landlord has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, painted yellow. The two mercenaries look poorly armed, but easily strong enough to overpower you. | + | At any rate, your landlord has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, painted yellow. The two mercenaries look poorly armed, but easily strong enough to overpower you. Fortunately, they haven't spotted you. |
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| + | Heart pounding, you: | ||
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| + | *[[Sneak back into your room and hastily pack up your possessions]] | ||
| + | *[[Leave without your possessions]] | ||
| + | *[[Attempt to create a distraction, allowing you to escape]] | ||
| + | *[[Confess your guilt to your landlord and pray for mercy]] | ||
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| + | [[Category: Darklands - A Medieval Adventure]] | ||
Revision as of 05:53, 20 December 2015
You have a healthy fear of having your skull smashed in by an inaccurately thrown piece of furniture, so you decide it best to avoid passing by your neighbours' door until they've patched things up. You step out onto your window ledge and swing yourself up onto the roof of the house in one fluid motion.
You will admit that you're a poor fighter, but to survive your childhood on the streets you had to develop lightning-quick reflexes, keen spatial awareness, catlike agility and the speed to run like heck when needed. To meet you in a fair fight (you've heard of them, but aren't really eager to try one) an enemy has to find and catch you first. Also, you're an absolute pacifist by principle, and you are in practise, too, almost all the time! People just don't seem to get that you're not a morning person.
As you uncomfortably recall the infamous Linguine Incident, in which you may have been involved back when you were squatting in the textile district, your heart suddenly skips a beat - it's your landlord walking down the street, accompanied by two armed thugs!
You noiselessly flatten yourself against the roof, or as flat as you can make yourself with your huge breasts painfully crushed beneath you, and the round globes of your bubble butt protruding behind you. You wince at the pain in your chest and wistfully remember, for the millionth time, how much easier life was when you were just a sweet, trim little thing without stuff bulging out all over the place.
At any rate, your landlord has clearly discovered that those "gold nuggets" you paid your last month's rent in were actually hardened dog feces, painted yellow. The two mercenaries look poorly armed, but easily strong enough to overpower you. Fortunately, they haven't spotted you.
Heart pounding, you:
