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Out of the Frying Pan

Plotline: Main

Type: Social

It seems that the event at … not my … house was not isolated. Throughout the day, more and more people were brought in. Some with injuries, others not, usually in ones and twos. Some complained, some wept, some protested their innocence, and others were just sullen.

I'd only had four bandages when I came in, and I was down to zero.

"I know you have another bandage." a woman said. "Give it to me, my daughter needs it."

"Mama, I don't want a bandage." her daughter protested. She had a raised welt on her head that said otherwise.

"If I had a bandage, I'd gladly apply one to her, but I don't. If you want,..."

"Guard!" she screamed, "the monster has a weapon! Guard!"

She had to repeat herself three times before one appeared, then again when the guard asked what the ruckus was.

"Little lizard, do you have a weapon?"

"I have a weapon and two shields." I said, "I'd like to keep them, if I may."

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