By the time Kanz found himself standing beside the pubs back door, he had come to release that he had no particular plan as to how he would help those inside the building. He was no fighter, while the Red Cap was born and bred with a malicious streak a mile wide – in a one on one fight, he was certain that he would be the one on the loosing end, his lifeblood helping to keep the Red Cap’s cap a rather fetching shade of red for the considerable future. There would be little chance of the Red Caps intended quarry, whoever they were, escaping from the evil creature either – there was no way a mortal could outrun a Red Cap, and even many of his own kind would have trouble doing such a thing.<br/><br/>‘Think, think damn you think’ he said as he rapped his hand against the side of his head. Thinking under pressure wasn’t one of his strong points – in fact, Kanz would be the first to admit that on the subject of strong points he was rather lacking. The best he could probably say of himself was that his heart was in the right place – something that wasn’t about to be of much help against the Red Cap, other than to give it an even bigger target to try and drive the iron pike it wielded into.<br/><br/>His hands once again began to clench each other tightly – this time in front of him, resting just above the rather thick light brown leather belt that he wore, with its collection of pockets and bags. As he walked the various bags and pouches, in a wide collection of styles and fabrics, began to sway gently - with one in particular bouncing repeatedly against his right thigh. Feeling irritable, and for no reason other than being extremely frustrated with himself, the small stout boggan slapped the large pouch with the back of his hand – one of the crude rings that he wore upon his fingers cutting into the thin fabric, at which point a fine amount of black powder began to slowly spill forth over his scuffed large black hiking boots.<br/><br/>‘Oh bugger’ he cursed as he pinched the sides of the tear tightly together whilst shaking his foot in an effort to remove to fine dusting of… was that gunpowder he wondered as he bent down to take a closer look at the fine substance upon his boot. And upon closer examination, yes – it was indeed gunpowder. Now, ask Kanz how he came to have a pouch full to bursting with gunpowder upon his person and he would be the first to admit he had no idea – he was something of a collector, someone who would never let anything go to waste out of certainty that it would always come in handy at some later date.<br/><br/>Ask someone what Kanz’s strong points were, and they would be forced to admit that the guy was Lucky.<br/><br/>And yes, with a capital L.<br/><br/>‘Ok. Yes. Right’ he mumbled to himself as a plan began to form in his head – rushing from the back door around the side of the pub and as near to the front door as he could manage. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone outside this evening, and it gave him the perfect chance to get everyone out of the pub. Moving several long strides from the door – far enough that he hoped there would be distance between the door for those inside the pub to get out, he began to dig a hole in the dirt with one hand. He scrabbled away in the dirt like an animal possessed until it was deep enough and big enough for him to dump the contents of the pouch into – leaving just enough to make a trail of it a safe distance away.<br/><br/>‘Looks like I get to set fire to something and scare ‘em all after all…’ he said to himself as he quickly found two small pieces of flint within his pocket, smacking them together against a thin dry branch that he found underneath one of the windows of the pub. It took several strikes before he could cause enough spark to set light to the branch, and his hand trembled as he placed the flaming branch against the thin end of the gunpowder trail, before making his way head first into a bush.<br/><br/>He just hoped this would work…