|
>>
|
7d596c.jpg
Jingling Drops
7d596c
>>315593
Hefting the axe over his shoulder, and standing atop the desk, overlooking the great window, the kobold quietly tied a rope around the great wooden file holder, and grasped a rope, while taking in a long, deep breath, ready for an adventurous night. With thanks, the northern side of the factory was covered and dark, and gave him opportunity to plan his route of attack.
And so, with a flick of his match and the lightning of his personal pipe, For'Se took a long breath and leaned down to drop the match onto the outer catwalk, near the small twine of cloth that had been laid out, just above the last bag of explosive powder. He counted, fifteen seconds would run down before the first explosion, and he ducked himself out the window, and swung low - using the rope with a hand and pistol in the other, and took aim down below.
At the first explosion, his gun roared, a round lodging into the skull of the first taskmaster. At the second, with all eyes up, he dropped down and took aim on a second. Pandemonium began to rush through the guards, who couldn't identify where the explosions were coming from, until the walkway began to collapse down, a pop leading to another section. Their panic was thrilling, and another round took another slave-master down. The lifted eyes of a sorely abused lizard-man caught the attention of For'se, who tossed him the keys to the chains at his throat. It didn't take an alchemist to figure out what he had to do.
Dropping the axe from the sling on his back, For'se slid the axe to a burly looking scaled lizard, whom shouted a whoop and took up the hefty weapon. It understood, it knew what to do, and the beast set to breaking what chains couldn't be quickly unlocked. The time of liberation was at hand.
"Go. Free the others!" For'se shouted, moving between the men of scale and lizard blood, who tore at their chains, as the first sight of liberation came about. Rifles cocked up above - but another explosion in the timed manner made flighty ones panic. Panicking lead to wild shots, which did little but stir and make agitated the slaves below.
"Go! Free your bretheren!"
Some fought. They fought chain and threw them into the gears, others rushed the stairs, some falling dead, others roaring a challenge on sight of fallen brother. The men on the upper tier had little chance though - perhaps that was the blessing. Their deaths were quick, thrown into the machines below. Blood ran thick, and would be a terrible pain to get out of the gears.
Un-needed death was always a shame; but the kobold didn't think twice, as he reloaded his pistol, and set to keeping the doors from being reached by survivors. Thankfully, there were none to alert the guards outside; who wouldn't start investigating for some time.
Of course, phase three would be a little more difficult.
Of the initial eighty slaves, seventy survived. This, counting those drawn from the deep barracks who had been roused from exhausted slumber. The excitement stirred them from lethargy, as did the heat from the machines, which provided them with ample excitement. Hunger was prevalent, and a quick raid of the larder and captured of the cook allowed many to fill hungry belly and thirsty throat. They did well, and looked quite hale for their work, in the eyes of For'se. Of course, there were few young present, a sad state of affairs - low birth rate and infant mortality always was a sad factor amongst egg-layers.
But at least these scaled ones would know freedom.
|