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Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2005 7:52 pm
by Jester of the FoS
A fireball ripped through the lobby followed by a half-dozen Molotov cocktails launched at van Rijn. They fled, they all fled.

Ripping off the burning rags the traitor snarled.


“Let the cowards flee, I’ll find what I need when they’re gone.

. The few remaining zombies finished off the armoured guards and turned of the last of the defenders. Van Rijn turned and moved into the Dining Room commandingly, the tattered remains of his opera cape fluttered around him like a shroud. He considered a small triumphant laugh. Then he saw the open cage.