Okotan Adventures: The Dark

A steady stream of obscenity seemed to have replaced any conscious thought. Ilya shook is head quickly, trying to clear his mind of the distracting level of adrenaline and fear.

He focused now on his belt, drawing out a small black clay pot, the size of his fist. It was a low-powered bomb with the most diminutive blast radius he could concoct. He hoped; they didn’t exactly have a particularly good success rate. With his left hand he drew out a piece of flint, holding it between his middle and pointer fingers. He flicked his metallic thumb across it, shooting sparks towards the oiled wick of the bomb, desperately trying to ignite it.

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