The First Sign: Zombies! Playground 1, This is where the RP takes place Options

[Tellie]

Zaeed. In a tavern at the Imperial City.

Zaeed was contemplating his future, really with all the killings that had been going on lately someone working in the 'private' security sector like himself could stand to make a fortune. Nursing his jug of ale that the bartender had refused to accept payment for after learning his name he sighed.

In his years of killing and or arresting every kind of beast and lowborn scum that walked, glided or flew across Tamriel he was a bit stumped. Never had he heard of such acts of mindless violence that was ripping through the Province, worst part was that even after running them through they didn't stay dead. Oh he had heard the rumours of course, once they killed you you didn't stay that way, yet...the idea of a bite bringing the dead back to life seemed absurd. Sure a vimpire's bite could eventually turn you into one, but even though a vimpire's heart did not beat, there was still intelligence there...these...things seemed to have no intelligence at all simply an never ending appetite for the flesh of the living, according to the rumours at least.

Taking another gulp of the concotion that was supposed to be ale he glanced around the small inn. Not many people were there and the few who were sat huddled up to themselves, never meeting the eyes of anyone else 'cowardly sheep' he thought as the door opened and two robed men...shambled inn, most likely deep in their cups already.

A gust of wind blew a small piece of parment in and to Zaeed's irritation it blew straight into his face. "What the?" was all he could mutter before taking a good look at the piece of parchment. No one really knows how it happened.

Almost all of Cyrodiil and the surrounding borderlines were affected by an unknown disease. I knew that this epidemic was nothing we've ever seen. Three months back, the Royal Healers and the Guild of Mages was working on a cure. It was a promise that they never kept. An associate of mine brought me terrible news. Instead of killing this virus, they unknowingly amplified it!

It started in the Imperial City itself.


The next part was blotched out in ink but his trained eye could notice the words 'Died' and 'Tore at each other', fortunately the rest of the letter was readable.

... so I warn that whoever read this, make haste to Anvil! Ships from (blotched with ink) has arrived and is ferrying those fortunate to a safe place!

May the Nine give us strength in these times of bereavement,

Courier Ra'Jhibus.


'Bloody hell' was the first thing that wen't through Zaeed's mind, the next thing was 'why does it smell like corpses here?', Eyes widening Zaeed dropped the letter and swung out his sword, decapitating one of the newcomers, and he noted with a grim mood that the owner of that head had been dead and decomposing for several weeks at least.

Draining the rest of his goblet he noticed that several more were starting to shamble towards the open door, switching his sword to his left hand he tok out one of his crossbows in his right hand and turned towards the bartender. "If you have a weapon I'd get it if I were you, this compassion's gona get ugly"

This post has been edited by Tellie: Mar 25 2011, 03:08 AM

[jack cloudy]

Kaye, same tavern (cause why complicate things?)

For the fifth time in as many minutes, Kaye counted the coins in his palm. Little bits of copper and tin, tokens of wealth but not enough to actually buy anything he cared about. Such as the cup of brandy resting on the counter before him.
“Can’t even afford a single drink. Just more proof on how much I’ve wasted my life. I should have looked for material wealth instead of spiritual. The search would have been easier.” He thought with a grimace.

The Redguard shook his head and continued to stare at his drink. He didn’t feel like running away without paying, not while the bartender would notice. But he didn’t feel like not drinking either. So now he was just waiting for the argument taking place in the corner on his left to escalate into a full-blown brawl. Perhaps he could gulp down his alcohol and slip out in the chaos.

A cold breeze hit his back, telling the old man that either someone had just arrived, or was leaving.
"What the?" The man next to him said as a piece of paper struck him. Kaye didn’t like him much, with his scarred visage and body bedecked with all sorts of weapons he looked like a killer. Not that Kaye had anything against mercenaries on principle, he just felt a tad nervous when sitting right next to one. The Redguard averted his eyes back to the bartender, who was looking in the direction of the door right now.

“Why are you looking at the door, barkeep? Ah, must have been a new client then.” Kaye’s fingers wrapped around the wooden cup and listened to the vibrations in the floor with his feet. As soon as the newcomers had taken up the bartender’s attention, he would leave.
“Such a clumsy gait. Feels like they had a drink or two already. Smell horrible too. Gods, do they work at a butchery in the slums?” He muttered.

The newcomers had reached the counter and by now the bartender’s welcoming expression was fighting with a wrinkled nose of disgust as the smell had reached him as well. He did not get the time to decide which expression to use though as Kaye’s neighbor jumped up and in one smooth motion killed one of the guests.
“Whuh?! What do you think you’re...Oh.” The Redguard blurted out as he dove from his stool away from the madman. His sentence froze upon his tongue however when he realized that the two drunkards did not work at a butchery. Neither were they drunk.

The headless zombie lurched wildy in Kaye’s direction while the other moved for the mercenary.
“Zombies running loose! I thought this was supposed to be a place of civilization, refinement, yadayada. I knew I shouldn’t have left my cave.” The old man ducked under the undead’s clumsy swing and shattered its elbow with a quick jab of his own. Undeterred, the zombie merely began to swing the appendage around like a flail. Grabbing the rotten flesh swinging towards him, he used the zombie’s own momentum to kick it across the room, tearing out the arm in the process.
“That’s why I hate zombies, skeletons and the like. Never know when they should acknowledge their injuries like a proper man.” Kaye muttered under his breath. More zombies, or so he assumed, could be seen through the still wide open door as the rest of the patrons began to acknowledge the sudden threat in their midst.

"If you have a weapon I'd get it if I were you, this compassion's gona get ugly" The mercenary said loud enough to be heard by everyone.
“I’d much rather hide in a corner, sir. Not that that would help much.” Kaye replied as he tossed the arm away.
“Some day this is.”