Tora Steals Things

“Yeah, actually, yeah it is! At this point I’m half thinkin’ this Rakak character’s gonna be using Bolli’s amulet as a fuckin’ coaster, and we’re never gonna find the bloody thing. And I dunno ‘bout you, but I’m not leavin’ this damn lab without somethin’ fer my troubles,” he snatched the knife.

“Miss Bandi, I must protest—”

He could keep protesting, Tora was done. The exasperated thief turned to make for the door—and froze mid-turn. FPS babbled off something about “an honest life of a dog walker” but Tora wasn’t listening—he’d found the source of the thundering.

There, to the right of the counter, hidden between a shelf and a pantry, was a shockingly beautiful sword made of metals Tora didn’t recognize. “Shockingly” was the key word—from tip to hilt to the sculptures of dragons dancing across its length, the entire sword coursed with electricity. Its sparking form was mounted to a small space on the wall, tied up with a variety of wires that fed suspiciously into the floor.

And sitting atop a shelf just above the sword, was a tiny dog golem doing its very best to tug that majestic sword off the wall. It thundered at every tug.

“Shit—” was the only word Tora managed before the dog succeeded in its quest. The sword came off from the wall, the wires popped off it, and the floor went out from under him.

What followed next went too fast for Tora to fully register: one second he was in the kitchen and the next he was in the sky beneath it. The air turned violent as he dropped through it, roaring in his ears and tearing at his skin. He only saw a glimpse of the kitchen falling away from him before he was forced to close his eyes. What little he saw was that of the tiny golem dog holding the sword on the shelf, and FPS hanging his head over the edge, yelling after him.

Maybe he was saying “I told you so.”

Sap pounded in his ears alongside the howling wind, working together to drown out all thought. Despite their efforts, one made its way through:

Ah, what a stupid way to die.

The wind howled louder to the point of deafening.

Then suddenly it slowed into gentler gales. His motion followed suit, slowing till it felt like he was floating. He risked one eye to peek, and confirmed he was, indeed, floating. Unseen winds swirled around him and pulled him back upwards. The kitchen drifted closer. A fierce wizened adventurer stood near its edge with his staff outstretched—FPS.

It had been a damn good idea to bring him after all, though Tora would never admit it out loud.