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]

OOC: Zaeed is a bloodthirsty maniac, now is he? I simply love it!


Cyldreen decided that he should keep an eye on this Zaeed. This Imperial had the scent of a killer on him, not like the other mercs Cyldreen encountered who smelled of .. fresh blood and fresh experience. But like Cyldreen, this one had a cunning mind who recognized entities that posed a threat to him. However, all the battles this mercenary endured must've taken a toll on its sanity. Bloodlust and bloodthirst, contrary to beliefs, were seperate things. Zaeed has the addiction of the former, and should not let that cloud his judgement, no matter how sweet the sensation bloodlust offers.

"Charging head on is sheer suicide as most of these... sheep are not experienced warriors. They would only weigh us down," his eyes took the gleam of bloodthirst and mechanically, he took off his mask and pulled down his cowl.

His burned countenance was put to light and almost everybody trembled.

A demon appeared in his stead and this fell creature smiled, borne of dementia and hunger. The patrons gaped and gasped at the horrible sight, their music of terror taking momentum at the symphony ringing inside the killer's mind. Each step he took towards the drunkards were a dance in its own right, a ballet of sociopathic mentality.

The Silent Butcher was here.

"What shall we do to them, I ask you," his gravelly voice taking on the tenor of royalty and cruelty. "Should we throw them to wolves outside, Mother, or should we make my favorite dish of Bravilian Stew? I agree that the rare meat is high-priced, dear Matron, but these... sheep would provide."
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Another OOC: (demented laugh) This is the first peel of the rotten onion that is Cyldreen! Behold!

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Apr 7 2011, 10:55 AM