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]

The deranged smile on the Butcher's face disappeared, and in its stead came the sneer of a hungry dragon. The axes in his hands shrieked for him to cut everybody down and have a royal feast. Livers boiled with wine, sauteed lungs for an appetizer and the main course consisting of a smoked heart and brains.. The frontal lobe was simply that way.

"I care not for planning or morals or anything that doesn't concern me in the slightest, my dear Redguards," he eyed the bartender with a dark gaze and his tongue, a devourer of lives, flicked like a snake.

"What about the plump one," the tenor of cruelty was replaced the unnatural baritone of a hungry devil. "Surely he is not needed in our escape?"

He looked the younger Redguard with a smile that could freeze Oblivion itself. The Butcher smelled him, discreetly, and caught the scent of a sinister past.

To be frank, he didn't care and was getting impatient. He got straight to point.

"I. Am. Hungry," those three words carried the wind of ill fortune. "and that Imperial shall bless me with a feast. Come not between the Silent Butcher and his prey, lest you feel how it is to see your heart devoured before your eyes." He turned to the whimpering bartender and walked towards him, each step a dance of sociopathic mentality

"You are a necessary casualty, Imperial. Come, and grace me your liver and your lungs and your heart," Cyldreen shot a glance that spoke of evil towards the older Redguard.

"Do you desire to see how far men can truly fall in the chasm of madness? You are right not to think of how black my heart really is."

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OOC: I'm okay with the plan. But this cannibal would catch up. He's hungry.