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In the hours just before the sun rises, when most of Midgaard is in their
drunken snooze, a small band of professional thieves make their way to the
Aardwolfian First National Bank. The job seemed simple enough, no tellers,
no guards, no camera's. Only the highest security vault door ever
concieved by man or deity. With tools of the trade, and the most nimble
of fingers, the wittiest of minds, the thieves put their plan into action.
They been gathering supplies all week in such a random and slow manner,
that no one would pick up on their scheme. Magical explosives crafted by
the wisest of dwarves, whose experience in the mines should prove the by
far the best in the realm. Elf woven cloths for sneaking and absolute
silence, even for those already light of foot. Special stealth cloaks
made by the Drow, empowered with the dark energy to allow them perfect
camouflage in any shadow.
As they snuck towards the bank, they could taste the riches already, hands
rubbing in greedy anticipation. With a man at the entrance to the bar
keeping a lookout, two thieves made their way into the bank and began
lacing the vault door with the explosives, being careful not to set them
off. The explosives themselves were the most dangerous part of the job,
as delicate and easily triggered like the dwarven tempers that made them.
Making sure their explosives were set correctly, the leader chanted the
magic phrase to activate the explosives. Once set, they quickly ducked
out of the room...awaiting the sounds of their work.
*KABOOOOOOOOOM* The explosives sound their death cry, and the thieves
rushed in to see if it had worked. When the smoke cleared, the vault
door was to appear to be no more. They rushed inside to find themselves
surrounded by gold treasures beyond belief, not to be distracted by the
shimmering beauty, they set to work and filled whatever bags and cases
they had and carried out as much as they could. And as quickly as their
scheme was started, they were gone. Disappeared into the alleyways of
Midgaard to their secret abode, where the thieves of the realm celebrated
their victory that no one else would see, but only know about.
Never was a thief so happy, and never were so many Aardwolfians so poor.
The End.
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