Snippet #2044092

Erik gave a sincere smile to the Miss Tyme, dispute the cough that arose from the nasty smoke inhalation. "Miss, you wound me," He whispered back before she retreated to the Boss. Like a fat cat and a kitten. Bah. "It isn't stealing if it doesn't have an owner."

This was close to the truth. As it turns out, at the End, high-ranking politicians and persons of power built bunkers to protect themselves from the outside world, hunkering down for years. Eventually, these poor souls simply suffocated as the electric generators halted, trapping the unlucky people with no oxygen hundreds of feet into the earth. Erik had happened to stumble upon such a bunker on one of his adventures through thieving in a faraway city. Curiousity led him to break the lock of the door, heading down into the dark abyss of concrete stairs. What had alerted him to the fact of lessened oxygen was the dead guards in the abyss who had apparently tried to escape, as well as the eventual extinguishing of his flame. He also began to feel the effects himself, lightheadedness and dizziness almost making an end of him. After regaining his breath and flame, he set down again to scrounge the bodies of the guards, finding the Uzi, as well as a pelethera of ammunition and several other weapons. And he knew there was more down there...

As he sat down across from the Southern Gravelord, he stated simply, "Scuba diving equipment." Noting the look of the bodyguards, he gave a chuckle. "I know, I know. No one's ever attempted to scuba since the End. But I think, if I can figure it out, there'll be a bounty of rare items to retrieve." He smoothly added, his poker face long since put on, "Besides, even if I perish, it'll only save you the trouble." He leaned forward a little, looming over the items in debate. "I want some of those oxygen tanks from the End--I know you have at least two." The question was whether or not he sold them already. "The more, the better. I'll ask for less extra on top, like three pounds of sugar-candy, one half-ounce of gold or equivalent silver, a bag of twenty Digits, an arm and a leg, and an apple."

He leaned back, giving his preference for trade. He knew he shouldn't be an ass, but he couldn't resist remarking, "You may start ripping me off, now."