Not every corner is worth turning. Sometimes it’s best to keep walking and not look back. Alas, while strolling through town, we came across a sign that dark times were ahead. In the alleyway, we beheld a setting that caused much confusion.

At first, Blake and I were distracted by the unattended barrels of ale. We began preparations on our makeshift cart and as we were about to give the request for Alley to check for those who would thwart out work, it became clear to us.

It appeared to simply be an enclosure for someone keeping pet wolves, which I took to be a foolhardy endeavor. However, one of the wolves was not like the other. In fact, it was not a wolf at all, but a bear. Why was the bear housed with the wolves? We all know this sort of thing doesn’t end well.

But this was no enclosure. It appeared to be a small arena. An arena lined with seats in order to view the activities held therein. We all felt this to be quite shocking behavior and it simply wouldn’t do.

The only proper action was to release the animals from this misguided torment. As the clouds obscured the moon, we cut through the bonds and set the poor creatures free. It’s one thing to stalk them in the forest and relieve them on their hides, it’s quite another to do it for fun and profit.

As Blake and I rejoiced in our good deed, Alley spoke up about a critical point we had neglected to take into account. We had indeed freed the creatures, but had done so within the confines of town. The streets of Brittany now had several ill-tempered, wild animals as occupants. They may or might not have designs of revenge. The citizens would wake to a terrible threat roaming their streets.

Thinking quickly, Blake and I grabbed the barrels, put them in our ramshackle cart and dashed for the town border.

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I can’t say I like the look of this. And what manner of foolishness is this to run across the beam like that? You could fall into the pit and twist an ankle for sure.

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Right, the only course of action is to cut these ropes and break the lock on that cage. This is very unsportsman like.

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Oh no! An onlooker! Quick Blake, smother him with a burlap sack!

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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