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[Maribore]

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The first explosion took out the main square. The following explosions claimed the courthouse, the tavern, the bank, and several houses. Her mouse brown hair draped in front of her eyes, Maribore sat with her knees drawn up under the stairwell. Her parents were supposed to have returned home hours ago from their trip to see the tribunal. As the twenty-sixth explosion blasted out her living room window, she somehow doubted she would be seeing them again.

Forty-two balls of flame and conflaguration potions flew within a 36 hour period. Maribore kept count of each and every one. Numbers were something of her specialty. She had never been a pretty girl, or even a homely girl. With her overly large ears and her plain drooping hair accentuating the already crooked way in which she walked, she often drove people in the other direction once they had spotted her. But intelligence was not an area she lacked in.

It was her brains that had told her to seek shelter beneath the stair case. It was her brains that months ago had her place water, food rations, and first aid supplies in hidden spots in the walling. And it was her brain that kept her from running into the street when the "ka-schwing" of the catapults stopped. Finally, it was her brain that had allowed her to apply the bandages to the missing side of her face, when the twenty-seventh ball of flame followed its predecessor, claiming the stairs she hid beneath.