The plan was flawless: While Theodore set a section of Mordheim on fire, and drive the enemy forward with the flames, Andrus, Natasha, and myself were to remain hidden in one of the tinder-like hovels. Of course the only problem with that plan is that we are all flammable–especially Andrus and Natasha.
“The enemy arrives,” Natasha hissed, peering around a corner.
“Remember, I hit, and you steal, is good, ja?” Andrus asked.
I nodded, “is good.”
“Where is that damned ghoul?” Natasha cursed. There were four of the foe progressing carefully down the street, and if had to guess, was getting a little nervous. From my angle, the foe looked like Witch Hunters, so I suppose she had a right to be. It would be nothing phrased, but it would be felt internally.
The section of our town was burning at an alarming rate. Theodore had really given a blaze…
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