<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=313762.msg15263994#msg15263994">Quote from: Callie Del Noire on 03-02-2020, 20:17:38</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Wallace Aiden Burthold-Campbell</strong><br/>He went up the stairs with his compatriots, making sure to put his feet down carefully and watching for any chance of alerting them. Setting each foot with care as he moved up the stairs, it reminded him of all those times he tried to sneak downstairs to raid the larder at night as a child. <br/><br/>Christ, he thought as he slowly worked his way up the stairs, he could kill for a bloody cigarette right now.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=313762.msg15264032#msg15264032">Quote from: Metraxa on 03-02-2020, 21:14:31</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Gordon Briggs</strong><br/>Noting the noise above them, it seemed like a good place to start. Even if they weren't responsible, they likely had a good idea as to who might. So he headed up the stairs, along with the others and with his weapon at the ready. Old instincts kicked back in. Now this, this was more like what he was used to.</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Despite the group's attempts at stealth, the old wooden stairs do creak some. But the slow climb keeps the noise minimal.<br/><br/>It is at the top of the stairs where Briggs' hand, gently waving through the air in front of him, finds the thread. He motions the others to stop. It is tied to the banister at about shin height. Her gently runs his fingers along the thread. It passes through an eyelet screwed into the wall. He cautiously steps over the thread after first feeling around for a second thread, from head height down to the floor-boards.<br/><br/>Hanging along the wall are four soup tins. Briggs' first thought is grenades, a cunning sapper can slide a grenade into a soup tin and dangle it. Shake it and the grenade falls out. Steeling himself, he reaches a finger up into the bottom of the first can. A soup spoon. The next can, another spoon. Then a fork, then a third spoon in the fourth can. Relieved that it isn't grenades he realizes this is a simple alarm device. Trip the thread and the cans will set up a clatter that the folks in the occupied apartment couldn't help but overhear.<br/><br/>Indicating the location of the thread, he motions the other two over it. As Dupond is halfway over the music stops. You all freeze.<br/><br/>There is the sound of a woman's laugh, and a man's guttural voice. There is a loud pop, like a phonograph needle dropped a bit too hard, and the opening notes of Lili Marlene can be heard again.<br/><br/>There are three apartments on this floor. One of them is clearly unoccupied. There is no door in the door-frame, and you can see the sky through the roof from the hallway, and the wan starlight is casting the dark hall into sepia and long shadows. One of the apartments is closed, and dark.<br/><br/>Light leaks around the door to the third apartment. The smell of tobacco smoke lingering in the air is stronger as you approach, and the sound of the phonograph come from the room. There is a sound like furniture legs being dragged a short distance over a wood floor, and the woman's voice can be heard.<br/><br/>"Ohhhh, Arne!"<br/>