Potential

[Sheex]

“My apologies. I simply wanted to know what we were up against.” Sheex muttered as he popped another piece of cookie in his mouth. He silently munched on the sweet until his eyes fully adjusted to the dim light, at which time he was greeted with the sight of even more dead bodies. If there was one thing that Sheex didn’t like walking into, it was a room filled with dead bodies and lots of blood. Despite his previous lecture, Sheex was about to comment on the current state of affairs. Fortunately for the wanderer, before he could even mouth off one sarcastic word he was quickly brushed aside by the angry man from earlier.

“Now that was just uncalled for.” Sheex muttered softly as his body hit a nearby wooden wall, thankfully free of green slime. However, Sheex’s beloved cookie was damaged beyond repair, and he could only sigh as he watched the now completely smashed crumbs fall to the wooden planks below. Shaking his head at the ever-worsening conditions surrounding him, Sheex gently pushed himself off the wall and back into a standing position. It was all for naught however, for Sheex immediately stepped back into the wall when he saw just what the angry man was after.

It was, without a doubt, quite a disgusting sight to behold. The captain called it a blood zombie, and judging from its appearance Sheex needed no explanation as to why it had such a name. Not only did the smell of rotting skin make Sheex’s nose crinkle in disgust, but what made the wanderer’s stomach hurt the most had to be the brain coming out of the thing’s head. That…is without a doubt…the MOST…disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.

“Nice moves you got their ace.” Sheex said weakly, congratulating the attacker (whose name eluded Sheex) with a pat on the back. Sheex then heard the young kid mutter something about finishing it quickly, which could only refer to the zombie. Seeing as how Sheex abhorred bloodshed (especially his own), he quickly began to back away from the task. Fortunately, the sole female in the party stepped forward and somehow made a blade materialize out of thin air. Not only does she talk to air, but also she can create blades out of nothing. I’ll make it a point not to get on her bad side. Sheex thought to himself as the woman sliced off the zombie’s head in one smooth motion.

“You too. Couple of born heroes we got here.” Sheex said towards the girl as he watched he blade vanish just as easily as it had appeared. With but two ordinary daggers tucked away in his coat, Sheex felt a little outmatched by the group surrounding him, but at this point in time he figured that was a good thing. Turning his attention away from the now decapitated (and profusely bleeding) zombie, Sheex turned his attention back to the path in front of him. Just like before, the lanterns on the wall illuminated far too little light to properly light the path, and all Sheex could see ahead of him was darkness.

Such a sight, while rather unnerving to Sheex, apparently did not bother the boy at all for Sheex watched him bravely march off towards the darkness. Perhaps the kid had some sort of night vision, but Sheex could hardly see five feet in front of him, and he was not about to walk blindly forward in a ship filled with dead sailors and flesh-eating zombies. Well, Sheex didn’t know if they were actually flesh-eaters, but he figured it was a pretty good guess.

However, all Sheex had that could act as light was a small book of matches, which would be of little use at the moment. He looked about the ship for a moment, and then snapped his fingers as he had a sudden brainstorm. As quickly and as carefully as he could, Sheex walked over towards the nearest lamp and gave it a soft jerk. It quickly came off its hook, and with it came its dim light source. Better than nothing I suppose.

“Hey kid! This any better?” Sheex said as he held the lamp up, trying to redirect as much light as he could toward the darkness of the ship. While he did so, Sheex made a silent prayer that he would not find any more zombies. In his opinion, one zombie a day was already more than he could handle.

[Malstrife]

Damn! he thought. I can't be drained THAT much after just one attack. Should hav done something differant...

Breathing in deeply, he stood up straight, making an attempt to hide his fatigue.

Looking back at the man he knows as 'cynical,' he found his 'hero' remark rather amusing.

"I'm no hero," Leon muttered. "I have enough to atone for, may as well make this the start."

He tried his best to keep his digust off the now-decapitated zombie to himself. The sight of so much blood made him squeamish, he kept reminding himself that he had not been trained for this sort of endeavour. But, he figured there was no turning back now.

He looked forward down the dark path the boy had walked towards. Surprised at his seeming nerves of steel, Leon followed.

The dark halls were soon illuminated with light from the cynical mans lamp.

Just when I think things could not get any more interesting...

The halls ahead were splattered with the green ooze that they had witnessed in the room before. Instinctively as always, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. Not trusting the shadows as he always has, although, he had used the shadows most of his life to hide his shame after that dark day of the Order.

"Alright..." he whispered. "Anyone have a plan, or idea? I'd like to know what we are up against."

He know his question would fall upon deaf ears, they did not truly know. But he desperately seeked comfort in SOMETHING that could make sense of the situation.

[INDK]

Damon wasn’t particularly pleased with what he saw now that they had a bit more light. All around them were wounded people, people who had been beaten almost to an inch of their lives and were now having the blood zombie virus take hold of them. With belabored breaths, these new undead wouldn’t be dangerous for at least another five hours. Or at least that was what Velinyal said as he instructed the group.

“We’re going to have to head down to the lowest level of the ship,” the captain said. “Undead like dark most places, and there aren’t too many darker than the deep underbelly on a ship. That’s where we’ll find the key to all of this.”

“What about your stolen goods?” Damon asked. “Aren’t you still worried about those?”

Velinyal didn’t say anything for a few moments. The elf bit his lip cautiously and looked around. “Not anymore,” he said.

“But you were so panicked earlier!” Damon insisted. The boy wasn’t sure why the thievery was such a priority to him. With undead running through the ship and potentially threatening Anebrilith, it would only be logical that a patriotic Raiaeran would shift priorities. “Does it not matter now, or do you think the zombies have it?”

“Just drop the subject,” Velinyal replied curtly. “We should be careful even speaking now, with zombies all around us. They could come out from anywhere with so much of the ship enveloped in darkness.”

It was a good point, and it silenced Damon for a bit. The boy remained on guard with his machete unsheathed, trying not mind the foul smells all around him as he continued on his journey. The ship smelled like rot and decay, so much so that the boy couldn’t imagine them ever being able to get the taste of zombie out from the boat. As it was, zombie blood had seeped into the wood of the ship, leaving deep red stains into the woodwork with only the slightest hint of green.

“They should just go ahead and set the boat on fire,” the boy thought. “That’d solve this problem right there.” However, Damon was well aware that if it had been his boat, then he might have been considerably more reluctant to see it go up in flames. Not only were sea faring vessels relatively rare on Althanas, but the bond between a ship and its captain was likely very strong. Damon could see how setting the ship up in flames would be something that was beyond consideration for the captain, though invariably one of the other members of the group would have asked about it.

The fact was though that the ship was already doomed. Velinyal knew it. With the massacre that had taken place below decks as severe as it seemed to be, there would be no way of ever cleaning it up. Zombie blood would seep into the wood, weakening it as it seeped its poison into the floorboards. In a few days time, the entire ship would be so rancid that there would be no choice but to set it on fire to burn out in the water.

Yet, Velinyal continued down towards the basement, for reasons that he wouldn’t reveal.

Soon, Damon approached a new set of stairs that led down to the damp storage areas of the ship. His feet creaked on stairs that were soaked in half congealed blood, and there was a sudden rush of feet and chatter as he took another step down.

Velinyal grabbed Damon’s shoulder before the boy could go any further. “For the sake of the Bard Council, I couldn’t send a boy down their first,” the captain said, holding onto Damon’s shoulder tightly so that the boy had no option but to agree.

“Someone else go,” the elf demanded. “Someone with a light.”