(TFT) Branya 8, Shot in the head

["David Michael Grouchy II" <david_michael_grouchy_ii@hotmail.com>]

    "Dry lightning means its not raining"
    An electrical storm of green, blue, and white.
    "The night sky can be more alive than the world"
    Flashes, crackling cascades, fingers reaching around the edges.

    THE WRECKING CREW is a tight little unit with its own identity. An 
identity that is getting stronger.  So when a cerntain little incedent goes 
down outside a tavern, and the town guard sees it, they run.  They flee the 
authorities.
    It's amazing how much of a thrill they get from running from the cops.  
The next day there is the notoriety of being wanted men.  Sauce for the 
goose.  They are more famous than ever.  They love it.  Of course the guard 
has no trouble finding them.  But they have a ship.  The authority of the 
guard doesn't extend to the water.
    With this comes even more new friends.  Friends from the crime world.  
They get a meeting with a big boss.  The leader and his side kick, a hobbit 
archer, go for a night meeting.  Its a tavern that orcs frequent.  Seedy and 
dangerous.  They are lead to a secret door under the stairs.  Behind it is 
an illicit gambling parlor.  Up some stairs and in the back is the office of 
the crime boss.  It has a window overlooking a cliff whith a nice view of 
the city below.
    Negotiations start up.  Well... not really.  The boss doesn't even get 
to make an offer.  The hobbit side kick seems to not like the way he's 
talking to the party leader.  Just as soon as the mob boss says "This is how 
it's going to be..." the boss gets and arrow right between the eyes.  
Stunned by not down, the boss stands up and steps back.  The next shot 
knocks him right out of the window.
    The two members of THE WRECKING CREW walk right out.  The leader and 
his hobbit guard.  No one suspects anything.  About a month later a 
lieutenant and an entire platoon show up to arrest them.  Right there on the 
docks.  The team recognize some members of the platoon as orcs from the 
gambling den.  Who knew.  Some of the town guard seems to be corrupt, or at 
least on somone's pay roll.
    One cry rings out.  It becomes the teams motto.  It doesn't matter if 
you uphold the law or break it.  The team only has one thing to say.  "Let's 
kill em all!!!"  This day, on the docks, they succeed.

    David Michael Grouchy II


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