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Trapsmith: Kobold Tail Trap

“You’re sure about this?”

A stiff nod from Jito and the determined glint in his eyes were answer enough for Gavin. Gavin often had trouble distinguishing between determined and crazed when it came to kobolds, though.

Gavin checked his operating theater: He had the inner workings of the cuckoo clock Jito had brought, as well as the shard from a mirror Jito had broken just for this purpose. He’d use the mortar and pestle they had to whip up some glue.

“Again, I am no healer, and you are absolutely sure?”

A growl and a nod.

“Just making sure. This might sting a bit.” Gavin raised his hand axe and, with one fell swoop, severed Jito’s tail.

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Trapsmith: Jerky Stake and Seeing Stars Traps

Gavin chewed thoughtfully on some exquisite squirrel jerky as he monitored the bounty hunters’ approach. They clearly knew his reputation because they were moving slowly and methodically checking their surroundings for hidden surprises. Yes, they knew who and what he was. This was going to be fun.

Taking off his right boot, Gavin collected his sock and, with his knife, cut off a length of rope. He dismantled his morningstar, taking the head and whittling a sharp point on the haft. With some regret he laid aside some of the jerky.

Expectations are there to be met. When they expect a trap, you give them a trap. But the rule of misdirection always applies, so give them a trap they expect and one they might not. Putting some jerky on a sharp pole creates the jerky stake. Touching the jerky launches the stake upward, which is very nasty against animal and vermin heads, but greedy hands can suffer as well. The seeing stars trap targets two-legged vermin. You dig a hole and use the sock to vertically launch the morningstar head, hopefully hitting something tender. To the rope, you attach a hefty stone, which swings down upon the distressed target.

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Trapsmith: Homing Horror Trap

Gark peered deep into the flame, waiting for the blessed moment when the Mother of Destruction would whisper her words of inspiration. Blinking heavily, he withdrew from the flame. “Free the flame” she had said, but what did that mean?

Snacking on some pigeons, he sifted through his trapsmithing stores. There was the sturdy dwarf-sized backpack his tribe had taken from an unlucky miner. He cracked a toothy smile, remembering the fun they’d had with the dwarf. Then there were the cans of paint he had stolen from the halfling temple. Gark’s eyes lit up when he spotted the lantern he had taken from the thieving human. Free the flame. Free the flame, indeed.

Every good trapsmith knows about the three C’s: cheap, crude, and cruel.

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Trapsmith: Toxic Tripping Trap

Running through the forest, Gavin silently congratulated himself. Things were going splendidly. The werewolf pack was hunting him down, and, if everything went according to plan, they would trouble the baroness no more.

No sooner had he finished the thought than the ground rose to meet him. Dazed, Gavin picked himself up and looked at the hunter’s snare that had tripped him. The irony didn’t escape him as the werewolves howled and he could hear them rushing through the forest. So much for the carefully laid-out trap he had planned for the werewolves. He needed another one now.

He had a bag of caltrops on him, a candle, and some leftover alchemical silver from the planned trap. Eyeing the snare, he added rope to his list. The werewolves were closing in—no pressure. No pressure at all.

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Trapsmith: Bat Trap

Standing over Robin’s motionless body, Gavin felt a slight pang of regret. Maybe he shouldn’t have teased the youth about his lack of experience. Robin’s bold charge of the albino dire bat had been glorious, but the fiendish bat had savaged the boy’s chest to a bloody pulp in return.

Scrounging through the boy’s pockets revealed some coins, which Gavin pocketed, and a can of ham, some wire, and several doses of medicine that relieved pain. Knowing that the bat would return—drawn in by the boy’s blood—Gavin had an idea. The albino dire bat was nothing more than an oversized mouse with wings. And trapsmiths know everything about building a better mouse trap.

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