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

[Ahrenil]

Dalarius

"...They're almost here!..."
"...Burn the notes! No evidence..."

A crash, the sound of splintering wood, booted feet on stone steps.

"Damn, finish it now!"
"What about him?!"
"I said no evidence..."

A sword is unsheathed, a shout, a cry of terror...then pain...

Dalarius sat up, cold and sweating on the makeshift bed he had made out of old sacking in the inn's basement. The dreams were coming more often now, they were more vivid, more detailed. And they scared him.

But what sacred him more, was how after each one he would wake up, and his skin would prickle with the now all too familiar feel of Magicka. It was getting hard not to use it now, the fits were getting worse, and each time the magick would be stronger...

The small Bosmer boy drew his knees to his chest and listened to the sounds of merryment in the inn above. He wasn't jealous of the people there, living their happy lives, with coin and wealth to spare in the warm and the happy places of the city...He had long since learnt that jealousy got him nothing but sadness and pain.

Still, he ached to go up there, spend just an hour amongst people, maybe find someone who would pity him, take him to the orhpanage, or take him home...care for him.

No! No one would, he was his only friend, the only friend he needed. His wits had kept him alive so far, that was all he needed. Suddenly there were the sounds of a scuffle upstairs, cries of fear and shouts of rage, the ringing of scabbards, the overturning of stools.

Time to get to work.

Dalarius crept upstairs and slipped through the door as silently as he could, only subconciously aware that his skin was prickling again, and that he was making no sound at all. Pockets were easier to pick during a fight, people accepted that they dropped a purse easier, that they were lucky not to lose their life. It was only after he had picked the second shocked man's pocket that he noticed the smell.

And then he saw the man, sword and crossbow drawn, facing down a ragtag group of shuffling men, that Dalarius knew, through some super human sense and from that aching in his gut, the one that had awoken the night he left Kvatch, that there would be no life in those eyes, and no pressure in those veins...

It was time to leave again.

[grif11]

Vernon:

"What in Malacaths is going on in their!" Vernon exclaimed.

he had been dozing down an alleyway for the last hour, until the smell of rotting flesh had woke him up. A minute later, the sounds of battle started to come out of the inn.

quickly getting into his armour, and picking up his sword, Vernon headed into the inn to sort out the fight.

[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.”

[grif11]

Vernon gagged.

As soon as he entered the building, a stench that was worse than in the basement of rats he had been in once, filled his nose.

"Gah, what ARE these things?" He exclaimed. As the strangers turned to look at him (at least the one WITH a head), everything became clear. he drew his sword and faced the zombies with the two others already taking part in the fight.

"I hope you two arent completely drunk," Vernon muttered, before slicing off a zombies arm.

[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."

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean

Clients scrambled away from the fight in a panic, tumbling over tables, pushing each other aside, trampling those who fell or were too drunk to get off the floor. A few, ran outside and Kaye sent a silent prayer for them. He knew not how many more of the undead wandered the streets but he doubted the escapees would find the safety they'd been looking for outside the inn.

The zombie he'd been fighting clumsily trashed around on the floor and slowly got back to its feet.
"Alright, you rotting monster. Might as well get this over with." Kaye said to himself as he slipped into a more open stance. Normally against a humanoid opponent he preferred the style of the flashing serpent, which emphasized a non-confrontational stance and quick, crippling retaliation. His current opponent however, lacked both the mindset that would fall for that and didn't seem to suffer much from smashed joints.

"I hope you two arent completely drunk,"
From out of nowhere appeared another mercenary, this time a Redguard like himself. The man cleaved off one of the zombies' arms, which plopped around on the floor like a fish on dry land.
Seeing an opportunity, Kaye leapt forward and sank his fingers in the zombies' chest, aiming for the gap between the ribs. Undead or not, there had to be something, anything that would be a vital component of the creature. His hand crashed easily through the shriveled lungs and heart till they found the spine. no longer held together by healthy tendons and muscle, it was easy enough to pull out one of the disks and watch the beast collapse to the floor once more. There it spasmed around with a body that could no longer support itself. Each time its legs would find stable footing and it tried to raise itself, its torso would limply flop to a side and drag it down again.

"I would have been in a few more minutes. As it is now, I wish I was. This makes me feel sick." Kaye replied to the younger Redguard while desperately trying to shake off the rotten bits of meat that clung to his hand. The other zombie had by now also been dealt with, though in the confusion Kaye did not know who had struck the fatal blow. Or if there even had been one. It seemed that while thorough dismembering or crippling could incapacitate them, the pieces were still alive.

A cloaked stranger whom Kaye recognized as the instigator of the brawl he'd been expected, had closed the doors and was now frantically pushing tables in front of it.
"I suggest that we contemplate on what we shall do. And fast, the barricades not gonna last long." The man said, loudly enough to be heard. Unfortunately, the majority of the mob inside was still in too much of a panic to respond rationally. Kaye counted himself lucky for having been near the zombies. Disgusting as fighting one had been, it was by far the safer option next to being trampled and squashed in the crowd.

[Tellie]

Zaeed Massani

Zaeed watched as the last of the zombies were dispatched by a pair of Redguards, one whom had been sitting next to him when the attack started and the other had come though the door. A last zombie had also been dealt with by a cloaked and masked man, whom had barricaded the door immediately afterwards. "I suggest that we contemplate on what we shall do. And fast, the barricades not gonna last long." he said to the room at large.

Zaeed agreed with that statement as did the redguard fist fighter, but it appeared the majority of the half drunk sheep in the inn was of a different opinion, that of running and trampling around like headless chickens. "OI EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP", Zaeed yelled, only to viciously avoid palming his face in frustration at the uselessness of his yell.

With a frustrated growl he dug deep inside of himself to summon up some good'ol fashioned rage and the change was dramatic. His vision shrunk up to the point that all he could see was his target, time seemed to slow as adrenaline flowed like fire through his veins, and his muscles tightened as he grabbed the large wooden surface of the bar. With a scream of rage and encouragement he ripped it off its frame and hurled the big piece of wood into the mass of people trying to open the side door and windows. The wooden board hurled most of them to the ground and the rest ceased their paniced clawing at the door and windows and instead shrank back in fear as he glared at them.

"NOW YOU LISTEN HERE", he yelled. "Those things are right outside, and by the sound of it there are dozens of them at least, now if you have any desire to survive the night I suggest you sit down and shut the hell up or those things will be the least of your worries...after all you are trapped in here, and you are trapped in here with me", the look of absolute fear that crossed their faces as they realized exactly who was threathening them was joy to Zaeed's heart and he gave a contended sigh as he grabbed a plate with food.

Turning around he flipped the plate and hammered it as hard as he could onto the surface of a table, more or less flattening the plate, he continued his work by picking up a small axe that he used tu cut in edges in the plate, and after a few short moments he held a more or less round disk with sharp edges and notches that when thrown would sever a head or limb with ruthless efficiency

Picking up a few more plates he turned towards the person who was barricading the door. "D'you have anything in particular planned? Or do you want to make thigs up as we go along?" Zaeed asked as he continued to make new 'weapons'

[grif11]

"Hmm..." Vernon sighed.

tactics were not his strong point, but he was not a fool either. "Once you are done weaponMaking, I say we bunker down in the cellar, taking any food and makeshift weapons we can find."

"The creatures may miss our hiding spot, and even if they did'nt, the stairs will hamper their speed, making them easy targets."

Vernon then turned to the crowd of citizens, who were still shocked by the imperials rage."arm yourself with whatever you can find, and carry as much food as you can!"

[Tellie]

Zaeed at the Inn of recently killed zombies

Zaeed glared at the Redguard. Judging by the fine state of his armour and choice of weapons he deduced that the Redguard was a former Fighters Guild member, goog enough fighters in a pinch but one could see that the man had no idea how it was to live life in a never ending strugle against the worst sorts of criminals and monsters. Zaeed's three decades had left him with a fine assortment of scars and his armour while in excellent standard had definate signs of year long use in combat and instead of using fancy elven weapons that were liable to break at the worst times he sticked to a standard broadsword made from good reliable steel.

"If you want to stay here that is your choice, it's only a matter of time before these pathetic creatures break in, leaving us trapped as rats on a sinking ship...so if you want to die be my guest".

Looking around at the other few individuals who had actually participated in the fight he smiled slightly. "I know for a fact that there are ships in Anvil that can take us out of here, if you want to tag along then fine by me, we have a larger chance to make the trip with numbers...but I must warn you there will be only one pace MY PACE and I stop for nothin' so if you follow me get ready for a long and hard hike", he inspected another one of his finished throwing weapons before starting on another one.

"First things first, we should get out of the city, if we hold true to the notion that fate is a witch with a capital B we can assume the the streets are full of these things, that means we run and cut down anyone in our direct path and stop for nothing and now one...any one else willing to go along with this?"

OOC: Yes Griff, that is how Zaeed sees Vernon, and...basically anyone else. Until they have proven themselves to be competent he won't make the mistake of overestimating them.

[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."
---

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

[Tellie]

Zaeed Massani.

When the robed man removed his mask Zaeed's hand instinctually went to his sword before stopping. The melted flesh and demented persona fitted with a bounty that had been offered some time ago, but the bounty could wait...for now he was content to watch someone worthy of his talents scare the sheep in the inn.

"You know there's quite the handsome bounty on your head...not that I intend to claim it after all I might be reckless and stubborn...but I'm not stupid", stroking his chin he caught onto an idea.

"I agree that just charging out is a bad idea, however we have a here quite a few people who will never make the trip to Anvil anyway, I say we throw them out as a distraction, once the beasts outside are busy tearing them to pieces we run for it...we should probably wait until daylight though we'll see better and it's only an hour or so left".

[grif11]

"Are you crazy!?" Vernon shouted at the sellsword and unmasked man. "these are innocent civilians who lived normal lives. they are probably the few remaining citizens alive, and you just want to sacrifice them so we make a silent getaway! Heading to these ships is a good plan, but have some morals. I know that survival comes with a great cost, trust me, i've done things I'd rather not have."

Vernon briskly walked over to the burned man and stood between him and the civilians. "if need be, I will escort these people myself. I hope it doesn't come to that, but I will."

OOC:Anyone guess what vernons secret is?

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean

Kaye was appalled. It wasn't that he stood on a high moral ground himself, what with having practically abandoned the rest of humanity for most of his life, but the plan he heard went beyond mere indifference.
"I sincerely hope it is the alcohol clouding your senses because if it isn't, I dare not think on how black your heart must be!" He shouted, almost exactly at the same time as the other Redguard.

Kaye shook his head. If he'd known that a simple night of drinking would turn into an unimaginable nightmare, he wouldn't have come. Vernon had gone right into one of the mad men's faces as he continued his tirade and a dull thumping could be heared inbetween every word. The zombies were not too patient it seemed. The noise made it hard to think but right now his mind was the best asset he had.
"Hmm, we can't leave through the door. Those things would swarm in as soon as we get rid of the barricade. And that stupid idea of throwing fellow men and women out first would only worsen the pileup at the door. Got to think of another way out."

"Well, come to think of it. Where the hell did these things come from anyway? When I came to the city at noon, everything seemed normal. Little quiet perhaps, but normal. Who knows, the problem might just be a local one. I did pass by a graveyard on the way here. Add a delusional necromancer, and this whole mess would be explained quite nicely. So if we could make it to another district, preferably by the top of the walls instead of the big gate..."

And idea formed in his head and he walked up to Vernon.
"Hold it. The tavern and its surrounding buildings all have multiple floors. And this being a city, the streets inbetween are rather narrow. If we went upstairs, we could pass from building to building without even touching the streets. We'd need to get a good solid board or something to serve as a bridge for those who aren't too nimble though. How about it? It would be slow going to get everyone across one by one but I think it could get us out of the district in one piece."

[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."

-----

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

[grif11]

"By sithis, cant y- um," Vernon blurted out. Now he was in for it. He could see the crowd of frightened men and women staring at him.

Feeling the guilt rising in him, Vernon knelt down and withdrew a hidden blade, the word "woe" etched into the ebony hilt. "well, now you know," Vernon sighed.

"Dont look the type do I? I get enough septims to eat though, and its not as if im the most evil thing in this room,"Vernon said, glancing at the canibal at the end.

This post has been edited by grif11: Apr 9 2011, 11:28 PM

[ureniashtram]

"Sithis, you say? I have news for you, dear Redguard," Cyldreen snarled through gritted teeth. He was not unphased when Vernon said he was of Dark Brotherhood.

"I devoured him and his Lady."

OOC: A fight between Vernon and Cyldreen? Nah.

[jack cloudy]

Kaye Soscean

Kaye really felt like strangling the...human monster with his bare hands but restrained himself. For one thing, just because he was apparantly in the company of quite the infamous murderer (of whom Kaye had never heard as usual) didn't mean he had to become one himself. Another reason was that this simply wasn't the place and the time. So he pointedly ignored Cyldreen's taunts.
"Just focus on getting out of here without the theatrics, both of you. Right now I'm not in the mood to watch a second brawl commence, not while the cause of the first one is still trying to break down the door."

"Well, if nobody is going to come forth with a better plan, I'll just get started on mine." He figured as he eyed one of the longer tables that was made from several thick wooden boards. He pounded his fist on it to confirm its durability and once the table passed his test, flipped it over so he could break off the legs.
"Alright, this one looks ok. Let's carry her upstairs. Anyone feel like helping an old man avoid having his back broken?"

[grif11]

Vernon quickly sheathed the blade and walked over to the older redguard.

"Aye, lets get this upstairs."Vernon said, as they picked up the table. "Nhg, hope your thinking of a way to get everyone on to the roof!" Vernon grunted."Most folk arent that agile. I doubt we could get this table up there, now that I think about it."

[jack cloudy]

"The thought did cross my mind." Kaye admitted.
"But no, my plan was to merely cross from window to window. The windows between buildings on either side of the street all seem to be at the same height and right across each other. An horizontal crossing should be doable for anyone capable of crawling. I suppose we have an orderly construction to thank for this. That, or an urge among the inhabitants to spy on their neighbour's bedrooms." He grunted as Vernon and he heaved the table up along the stairs, an act which was made more difficult than it should be by the narrow confines and a sudden bend in the staircase.

"If we get to a building with easy access to the roof then yes, I would like to get on top if only to see where we are and what path to take. Less risk that way as well. If the city is truly overrun by the undead and someone left their front door open..." He dared not finish the thought.