06-25-2009, 05:38 AM
1)
"Then we have-"
"To protect this house, AND your families first," finished Marcus, pushing his glasses up as he spoke. "Keep your eyes on the doors and windows. Control of the entry points and if you see any signs of fire, put it out quick. It'll take too long to get everyone out and they'll be vulnerable. Can't make much more of a plan until we know what's out there."
He peered through the makeshift curtains on one of the windows. He couldn't see the horses from here, which unfortunately held his crossbow and most of their gear. He still had his staff, and Daniel was wearing the sword (whether he could wield it or not remained to be seen).
A nearby storehouse was a burning ruin surrounded by billowing smoke which filled the air the smell of baked bread. Must have been storing lots of flour, he thought to himself as he studied the fragmented structure, amazing there's any building left at all.
There were figures moving amid the smoke. Two of them carried torches, and five, no maybe six more were wandering around looking for more targets. Brigands from what he could make out through the haze. Still, no way they could have been hired this fast unless...
Marcus' eyes narrowed as one of the figures emerged out of the smoke. He was tall and rail thin, dressed in piecemeal armor of leather and metal. His brown hair hung close to his eyes in unkempt strands, eyes that got a certain glee out of the destruction.
I thought so. Aric Douleurs.
Aric was once the son of a minor baron who'd been shocked to learn of his son's rape of one of the servants, and even more shocked to learn what other abuses the boy had done. Aric was disowned, but he'd already managed to pillage the family treasury, enough to feed his hedonistic tastes for a time.
The Necrodinators, especially ones like Tiberius, had found his penchant and talent for violence a useful tool. They gave him and his gang of thugs steady work in exchange for enough well-placed gold to keep him out of the jails, and money to pay for his many vices.
Even while he was still among the Necrodinators, Marcus had looked for an opportunity to beat seven kinds of hell out of this blight on life.
Looks like he'd finally get that chance.
Too bad the odds were so lousy.
"Then we have-"
"To protect this house, AND your families first," finished Marcus, pushing his glasses up as he spoke. "Keep your eyes on the doors and windows. Control of the entry points and if you see any signs of fire, put it out quick. It'll take too long to get everyone out and they'll be vulnerable. Can't make much more of a plan until we know what's out there."
He peered through the makeshift curtains on one of the windows. He couldn't see the horses from here, which unfortunately held his crossbow and most of their gear. He still had his staff, and Daniel was wearing the sword (whether he could wield it or not remained to be seen).
A nearby storehouse was a burning ruin surrounded by billowing smoke which filled the air the smell of baked bread. Must have been storing lots of flour, he thought to himself as he studied the fragmented structure, amazing there's any building left at all.
There were figures moving amid the smoke. Two of them carried torches, and five, no maybe six more were wandering around looking for more targets. Brigands from what he could make out through the haze. Still, no way they could have been hired this fast unless...
Marcus' eyes narrowed as one of the figures emerged out of the smoke. He was tall and rail thin, dressed in piecemeal armor of leather and metal. His brown hair hung close to his eyes in unkempt strands, eyes that got a certain glee out of the destruction.
I thought so. Aric Douleurs.
Aric was once the son of a minor baron who'd been shocked to learn of his son's rape of one of the servants, and even more shocked to learn what other abuses the boy had done. Aric was disowned, but he'd already managed to pillage the family treasury, enough to feed his hedonistic tastes for a time.
The Necrodinators, especially ones like Tiberius, had found his penchant and talent for violence a useful tool. They gave him and his gang of thugs steady work in exchange for enough well-placed gold to keep him out of the jails, and money to pay for his many vices.
Even while he was still among the Necrodinators, Marcus had looked for an opportunity to beat seven kinds of hell out of this blight on life.
Looks like he'd finally get that chance.
Too bad the odds were so lousy.