Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20200326185554/@comment-28358106-20200401012221

As Dorian crouches, he slips a small ceramic vial from a coat pocket. Holding his breath, he holds it up and carefully drips a single drop on four of the bars, about three feet from the ground. He does the same to the bottom of each bar, then carefully puts the vial away.

The acid works quickly and quietly. Within half a minute, the section of each bar comes loose. Dorian is quick to remove each one and carefully pull it in, setting them in the grass but out of sight. By now, the acid has run its course and is neutralized. Slowly, with great care, he steps through.

The guard had approached while Dorian was just stepping through. The glint of the breastplate gave the man away before his mumbling ever did. Dorian sized up his position. The shadows were long here. It wouldn't take much. He waited. One minute.

Two minutes.

A flash.

The peal of thunder covered Dorian's two quick steps as he emerged. The guard never knew what wrapped itself around his neck and kicked the back of his knees, cutting off the blood flow and knocking him out in seconds as he sank to the ground, unconscious.

There was still a rumble as he was dragged into the bush. Dorian whipped out a pair of slipknots, two of many prepared ahead of time out of arachne fiber that was akin to steel. Seconds was all it took for the guard to be bound hand and foot, chloroform swathed under his nose to keep him out a long while. His handiwork done, Dorian slipped from the bush and onto the green.

He moved, wraithlike, to the mansion wall. A stone support buttress provided a pillar of perfect shadow, and here he paused.