Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Josh]

He considered that. "Depends on the situation in the vicinity," he said. "And what our roosting spots are like."

[Caz]

"I'll have him explain a bit more," she said. "Something about how the floor we need to get to is only elevator-accessable and we need the biometric equipment running," punctuated with a shrug.

She glanced Petro up and down, her lips pressed tight together.

"Don't worry," she said, putting an arm on his shoulder. "They're the toughest shits on the block, whether they know it or not."

[Josh]

"Silver will hold the line," he said, setting his jaw and tossing the cigar on the floor, to squash it under his heel. "Let's get moving."

[Caz]

She nodded. "Besides, all goes well and we'll be back in time to help 'em out," she said supportively. And then: "You checked in with Gwenyth yet?" Unaware she'd gotten the name wrong.

[Josh]

"Out of range," he said simply. "We won't know until we get back close again. Not even a concern right now. Either she'll make it or not. But she did her job."

[Caz]

Sherry agreed, glad to see that he was able to detach himself for the time being.

"Gonna go take a piss and then head off. Don't wanna be soaking my knickers when we get scared out of our goddamn heads."

[Cynical Cat]

He tested his blades. One of his knives was too dull. Dim memories floated to the surface. Stones and steel. Sharpening. Wendigo Reaper scrounged around for a loose brick. His motions were jerky, the angle all wrong. Slowly, he improved. He kept trying. Eventually, he got an acceptable edge. Oil. Oil and a special stone. That would be better.

Later. He would get those later. Now was tired time. Not sleep, but rest. He would feast when he awoke. Find the oil. Find the stone. Other things as well. Need to be careful. Avoid the leaders of the shamblers. They were not as stupid. Recognize him as different. Might set the rest on him. Later, search for stone. Another memory surfaced. Mall.

[Josh]

"I already did that," he said with a ghost of a smile. "But then, thinking ahead on matters like that was how I achieved my exalted status in life."

[Caz]

"Yeah, well it's easier for you," she said with a light elbow to his ribs. "As I seem to be the only one here deprived of a dick I think I damn well earned."

She smirked.

"Although something tells me that'd upset Dr. Freeman."

[Josh]

"I think our other doctor would approve, though," he said, slapping her on the back as he headed down the hallway to find a good corner to whiz in. Too bad they were too crowded on the ground here for him to engage in his favorite form of target practice.

[Caz]

"Was at a party in my failed attempt at uni when I realised I was damn jealous of not being able to piss on pissed-out drunks," she said with a grin. "Or off the side of a bridge or summat."

[Josh]

"Life just isn't fair that way," he said smugly as he continued on.

[Josh]

"Twenty-two ballistas," Zimmerman said with a note of satisfaction. "The oil is in position. Aside from further trench-work, we're as ready as we'll ever be."

[Dark Silver]

Silver nodded, looking around as the militia worked on getting eveything ready. "We know how long we have till they reach her?"

[Josh]

"Twelve hours, give or take. The leading edge are the fast ones, and they have a tail of slow-movers." Zimmerman answered.

[Dark Silver]

He nodded, twelve hours. Not a whole lotta lead time....

"We have to buy more time. Make sure evac routes are clear, just incase. I don't want to e scrambling at the eleventh hour, only to find out means of escape is blocked. If they manage to breach defenses and get over the walls....the Second will hold the line to buy time for them to escape."

Silver chewed on the end of his unlit cigar, just giving his orders, not seeming to be all there at the moment. The verge of battle, he was within himself, preparing himself as much as he was making sure the defenses were set.

Hury the fuck back Petro....

[Josh]

"What are you thinking?" Frank asked. "We can move a patrol to check the exit line."

[Dark Silver]

"Simple, we need more time. I'll take a team to give us that time."

Silver was nonplussed about the whole thing, reaching around his back to pull the gauntlet from it's holster. This one was different, somehow the metal was discoloured, and metal spikes protruded from the streches of finger, where they would more than likely hurt when he punched. He slide the gauntlet over, the metal groaning at first, then loosening up.

"I'll take a few of the Second with me, strike at the horde while it's still out there, slow them down, divert what we can."

[Josh]

"If you don't come back, we're going to be without our war leader when the horde hits. Can you send Decimus?" Frank asked. He'd had his bit of generaling during the war with Petro's enemy, and it had proven conclusively to him that he wasn't cut out for that sort of thing.

[Dark Silver]

"If we're gong to divert the enemy, we need someone leading the strike who can think like the enemy, who knows them....." Silver's voice was flat, emotionless, "Who can still hear them." Silver was oddly quiet as he admitted that.

"For any chance of survival, we need to make sure we can't be surprised. Decimus hasn't been killed, he follows good orders, but we need to be able to change this shit on the fly if something goes wrong. And I'm not putting Punt into this position, so there's no one else."

[Josh]

"And who takes over here if you don't come back?" Frank pressed.

[Dark Silver]

"Good Question....guess that means I'll have to come back now won't it?"

Silver looked away from Frank, and over the people, "I'll take 10 members of the Second with me, no Guard. We've practiced harry tactics on smaller hordes before, we can adapt when we get there. Decimus and Punt will remain behind, if I'm not back in six hours, you three will form a Triumviate, and defend the fort. Understood?"

[Josh]

"Understood," he said. He didn't like it, but he'd do it. This was Silver's command now, until Petro came back.

[Dark Silver]

Silver nodded, and turned from Frank, he didn't try to clap the man on the shoulder, or offer false words of platitude. The man wouldn't appreciate it anymore than he did.

"IRREGULARS!" he shouted, for all to hear, "FORM UP! WE got a mission."

[Caz]

"This is going to be bad, isn't it?" Dorian Davies sad pointedly as he lit up a cigarette, staring off at the city's skyline with the sort of cultured disdain that a thoroughbred might give a mutt. Melanie, who stood beside him with her hands shoved into her pockets, shrugged.

"Don't write us off yet," she said simply, tightening the scarf around her neck. It had gotten cold in the last two weeks or so, and it was only through the grace of God--being the supplies that Sherry and Mike had brought--that the patrols weren't freezing to death at night. Dorian, Gil, and a half-dozen or so assorted Guard had also gone out and done a run of some nearby warehouses, returning with a shipment of several dozen sheepskin coats as well as things like wool blankets and gloves.

But it wouldn't be enough.

The two stood, eyeing each other up like boxers in opposing corners.

"Since when do things like this matter to you, anyway?" he asked.

She sighed, brushed her hair behind her ears, which were red with the wind chill.

"Since the people here have trusted me to take care of them," she said evenly. "Because they took care of me."

They'd discussed the ordeal of taking down the Blackcaps' former leader, as well as the injuries she'd sustained during that time, and how if it hadn't been for the Caiger team, she probably would have never made it outside that office building.

"They asked for our help, Dory," she said. "And you as well as anyone should know that they offer it just as they request it," she mentioned, regarding the wound on his leg. He stiffened a bit at the mention, then let his hands fall to his sides with a dismissive shrug.

"You're right about that," he said.

"I know."

"But that doesn't mean you should resign yourself to staying here," he said with emphasis. "Just because they're rooting down doesn't mean you should just agree with them on every goddamn topic--"

She snorted derisively.

"So what? Take off into the night and leave these people to clean up on their own, after everything they've done for us?"

"--I'm not saying I had a better suggestion, I'm just saying that it goes against what you used to tell me you stood for--"

Growling, she looked up at him with eyes like hot coals.

"What are you trying to say?" she said.

The silver-haired man finished with his cigarette, tossed the butt to the rooftop, and stomped it out.

"I'm saying that I'm behind you no matter what," he said evenly, "I'm just trying to figure out your motivations."