Where there's smoke....There's Krankshaft [Nov 10th, 1:00PM]

[Turrent Kraunce]

Wriggling about in frustration, clutching at his scalp and uttering curses. Turrent finally flops onto his back fully where a few tubes of various colour roll out of his pockets haphazardly. He chews on his cigar between curses before just letting his eyes stare at nothing.

"Wha' could it be?...What bloomin' combination makes 'em better?...If them Kobaldeys can figure it out, then so can a master bomber like me self....But what is it....what is it that be the secret ta makin' ta biggest boom there be?"

He continues to lay there for quite some time mumbling ingredients and methods of mixtures.

[Turrent Kraunce]

Finally fed up with his rambling and his constant running of recipe after recipe to himself for hours, he flips into a crouch and stands slowly. After adjusting his leg holster and stretching, he wanders off towards the forest with his hands behind his head lazily. A trail of smog from his ponytail following in his wake.

"Maybe a roight snooze'll help this bloke get his gumption to figure somethin' new....Couldn't 'urt. Plus a nip o' tea be sounding swell."

Unless stopped, he disappears into the dark of the forest line.