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

[ureniashtram]

Cyldreen was eyeing the Imperial bartender to the right with rapt, but perfectly hidden, attention. Never once did his feldgrau brown stare leave him. The man was fatty and that was what's important. Cyldreen had not tasted the sweetest meat of all in two days. His appetite was screaming.

The serial killer took a sip from his cup. He let out a throaty sound of appreciation as the squalid substance burned his throat and his ribs.

He thought about how he would approach this one. The frontal confrontation can be a bit gory and glorious but he would have to massacre the population that was housed within this establishment. While he smiled at the thought of blood being spilled, his incognito status would be shattered. Thus forcing him to vacate the Imperial City. That would not have to do.

Hmm.. ... I know. An accidental 'crossfire' would do the job.

He faced the fellow who shared his table. With Cyldreen's cowl up and a golden mask, this Nord had no idea who he drank with. A perfect victim that would do nicely in the Breton's plan.

"Your mother is no-good, two-timing prostitute who opens her legs for anybody who have a decent coin. You are just an unfortunate product in an encounter at an alley or a pigsty, my friend," the words he said flew like an arrow. It hit it's target.

The Nord's face immediately went red, from both the ale and anger. He rose, breathing heavy, and boomed out loud, causing heads to turn.

"You shurrup, little man! Before Ungar breaks you in half!"

Perfect.

Cyldreen snorted in both amusement and contempt. Before he could say words that would goad the simpleton into a brawl, the door opened, bringing with it a cold breeze. He did not hear someone cursing suddenly nor did he see the Nord's eye widen.

No. What he smelled gave him pause. Rotting human flesh. In an instant he faced the interlopers and stifled a gasp. He had heard of the news, of course, but at the time he simply dismissed it as a product of an over-creative courier's imagination. He was wrong.

He stood up and reached for his axes, but it was done. The mercenary, who called himself Zaeed to the bartender, had his sword decapitate the undead nearest. The redguard who sat beside him jumped away, almost comical to Cyldreen, before being engaged in a fight with a zombie.

Cyldreen took this as an invitation to do the same.

He sought out the nearest undead and lunged at it with animalistic frenzy, chopping its head from above. That didn't work as the zombie moaned and reached out for the Breton. He instantly cleaved its fingers with his right axe and crashed his left one on its right knee. It was forced on its knees and Cyldree, muscle straining in focus, felled it in half with his right axe.

"If you have a weapon I'd get it if I were you, this compassion's gonna get ugly," the mercenary piped, crossbow and sword in hand. It was the aged redguard who replied.

“I’d much rather hide in a corner, sir. Not that that would help much.”

Cyldreen was about to snark out a remark but another Redguard, decked in ebony armor, took this time as proper timing to introduce himself. The Breton narrowed his eyes. This one was another mercenary, possibly in league with this Massani.

Cyldreem went to this Redguard's side and bashed a zombie with a well placed kick. He swung his axe down in one fluid arc, cutting off an arm before he kicked it to ground. He finished it off. There were more outside, so numerous infact that they could possibly overwhelm Cyldreen and others. The breton closed the door and barricaded it with chairs and tables.

"I suggest that we contemplate on what we shall do. And fast, the barricades not gonna last long."