04/05/2020 Snippet, TRADE NEGOTIATIONS.

At this rate, I’m going to be calling it an all-new story. I don’t know when we’re getting back to the authentic Old American blue jeans.


It didn’t like the crossbows, and it didn’t like the staggering volleys that the two squads proceeded to toss into it, either. Fire and air elementals weren’t always the brightest spirits out there, and it took another two crossbow volleys before the elemental calmed down enough to toss back fireballs with something approaching actual aim. But by then the crew was ducking out of sight, into cover — and far, far away from any barrels. When wood explodes from being fireballed, it explodes nasty.

Jimmy and Leo hadn’t fired after the first volley; in fact, the volleys were there to keep the fire elemental distracted while they moved. Not that Jimmy minded softening up the damned thing first. He even allowed himself the ridiculous hope that a stray bolt might hit the restraining charm that was keeping this elemental captive and mad on this plane of existence, although the odds of that were roughly equivalent to picking all six numbers in the next Greater Hershey Stupidity Tax. But even if Jimmy didn’t hit the lottery today that way, the two were still getting closer to the time and place where they could do something useful with their time.


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