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THE GRAND STORY OF THE SEEMINGLY IMPOSSIBLE ADVENTURES OF BARON BRITPOP BLASTFURNACE
The Tibetan Ankle-Grabbing Death Vine
Baron Britpop Blastfurnace • Part 2
The Tibetan Ankle-Grabbing Death Vine
The sun shone brightly in the morning sky on the day of my departure. It matched my mood perfectly. I woke early and told my household staff I would be leaving for France that very day, and asked them to pack me a lunch and a jacket.
My housekeeper Amelia, a dear lady who had become like a mother to me, immediately protested.
“My Lord, surely you will need more supplies for such a trip. Please allow me to prepare a case or two for you.”
“No need,” I replied. “A true adventurer relies on his wits and skill to sustain him. And if that doesn’t work, I will simply purchase what I need.”
Flustered, she continued her appeal to reason, but I would hear none of it. My mind was made up.
“Your concern is heartening, but today I will leave for France.”
While we were discussing the matter, the head butler, Stenfelt, entered the room and said curtly, “Know your place, woman. If Baron Blastfurnace desires to leave without a case, he shall do so. You do not…
