Sir_Creno
01-20-15, 02:27 PM
Raiaera.
It was once a eutopian metropolis filled with wonder and splendor. Now, it was a husk, a mere shadow of it's former self rotting and decaying. There were those who fled the ravages of the scourge, the ravages of Xem'Zund's former servants. The nightmare horrors that walked were mangled corpses of battles long forgotten. It was a new age of suffering and turmoil for the land of Elves. Where once, beautiful beings with a glowing light would sing to inspire their comrades to victory. The battle songs of yesteryear long since past. Only sorrow and broken hearts remained. The embers of a light now since fading.
There were six gathered there that day, round a campfire, simple and true. It's embers struggling against the oppressive night. There was warmth to be had around the campfire, a respite from the predators that lurked in the dark, those that hungered for the flesh. Groups of Adventurers into the countryside were few and far between. Bravery was a fleeing thing those days. Some remained to face the current shadows in the dark.
The small company of would-be Heroes talked among themselves as they pondered the gravity of the mission.
The campfire's swirling flames seemed to be a reflection of the mood of the travelers.
"Things are pretty bad these days." One of the men said.
Two females were present in the group, they were ALL specialists.
"You're pretty quiet there, Creno." One of the women addressed Creno Valour as he sat in deep contemplation.
"He's got that soldier's training, he's probably just focusing on this or that battle tactic." Another said.
"Just wondering how I got stuck on this suicide mission." Creno suddenly said. "Was a week out from my vacation time. Would have gone off somewhere nice for a few fucking days. Away from this shit hole and all it's crapped up brass." Creno shook his head. He was the biggest man in the group, he was used to being hired muscle. "The brass is shit-for brains anyway." Creno looked at his companions for a long moment. "We get in the thick of it all, you guys keep a cool head, and I'll make sure you don't go home in a fucking body bag."
"Thing's can't be that bad." One of the other males said.
"No it's actually much worse." Creno confirmed the intel. "We're gonna have to go through Zombieland to get to where we're going." Creno took a deep pull from a waterskin. He was scared, they all were. His hands couldn't stop shaking since he received the shitty deal in the first place approximately two days ago. They were picked cause they were the best at extraction. Zulu Company they called them. A company of dead men walking, walking right into the heart of zombie land. But this time, it wasn't for any shit-for-brains suicide mission. This was the BIG score, the job that Zulu Company had been created for in the first place, but specifically it was an extraction of a high-level official out of an area relatively close to zombieland. A place where there was supposed to have been ZERO survivors. When Xem'Zund initially razed Raiaera, Eluriand was the primary target. Took an army of highly skilled Heroes to even stop Xem'Zund. That was history, currently was the present. And Creno's mind was just as scared shitless as the rest of Zulu Company's was.
Now, Zulu Company was a group of specialists that worked right out of Benoist. They did the worst jobs, the jobs that the brass considered untouchables. Clean ups, extractions, high level targets. All were within the resume of the Zulu Company. And in their midst was the quiet Hero named Creno. Though those days, he didn't feel much like a Hero. The moment he read the briefing report for the job they were now on, he'd regretted it. It's too close to Zombieland. Creno had argued with the brass. But, the brass always convinced with this or that deal, this or that gold piece value attached to the fucking mission. That's the way it always was. We fight, we die, they count their coffers full of gold pieces. It's all bullshit if you ask me, Xem'Zund should have razed the whole god damned planet.
"I'll take first watch tonight." Creno suddenly said. "I'm itching for a fight anyway."
"You all right Creno?" One of the women asked.
"Don't like this shit one bit. The extraction is too deep in Zombieland." Creno shook his head. "Damned brass has always been selfish pricks anyway."
"Are you certain of the intel report?" One of the men asked. "That village was iced years ago according to scouts."
"They spotted the distress flare about three days ago." Creno shook his head. "Simple ops job, just go in and extract the civ's then fall back to an evac zone."
"What's the catch?" Another asked.
"The catch?" Creno slammed his water skin against the ground. "Don't fucking die."
That was the only warning they would ever receive.
It was once a eutopian metropolis filled with wonder and splendor. Now, it was a husk, a mere shadow of it's former self rotting and decaying. There were those who fled the ravages of the scourge, the ravages of Xem'Zund's former servants. The nightmare horrors that walked were mangled corpses of battles long forgotten. It was a new age of suffering and turmoil for the land of Elves. Where once, beautiful beings with a glowing light would sing to inspire their comrades to victory. The battle songs of yesteryear long since past. Only sorrow and broken hearts remained. The embers of a light now since fading.
There were six gathered there that day, round a campfire, simple and true. It's embers struggling against the oppressive night. There was warmth to be had around the campfire, a respite from the predators that lurked in the dark, those that hungered for the flesh. Groups of Adventurers into the countryside were few and far between. Bravery was a fleeing thing those days. Some remained to face the current shadows in the dark.
The small company of would-be Heroes talked among themselves as they pondered the gravity of the mission.
The campfire's swirling flames seemed to be a reflection of the mood of the travelers.
"Things are pretty bad these days." One of the men said.
Two females were present in the group, they were ALL specialists.
"You're pretty quiet there, Creno." One of the women addressed Creno Valour as he sat in deep contemplation.
"He's got that soldier's training, he's probably just focusing on this or that battle tactic." Another said.
"Just wondering how I got stuck on this suicide mission." Creno suddenly said. "Was a week out from my vacation time. Would have gone off somewhere nice for a few fucking days. Away from this shit hole and all it's crapped up brass." Creno shook his head. He was the biggest man in the group, he was used to being hired muscle. "The brass is shit-for brains anyway." Creno looked at his companions for a long moment. "We get in the thick of it all, you guys keep a cool head, and I'll make sure you don't go home in a fucking body bag."
"Thing's can't be that bad." One of the other males said.
"No it's actually much worse." Creno confirmed the intel. "We're gonna have to go through Zombieland to get to where we're going." Creno took a deep pull from a waterskin. He was scared, they all were. His hands couldn't stop shaking since he received the shitty deal in the first place approximately two days ago. They were picked cause they were the best at extraction. Zulu Company they called them. A company of dead men walking, walking right into the heart of zombie land. But this time, it wasn't for any shit-for-brains suicide mission. This was the BIG score, the job that Zulu Company had been created for in the first place, but specifically it was an extraction of a high-level official out of an area relatively close to zombieland. A place where there was supposed to have been ZERO survivors. When Xem'Zund initially razed Raiaera, Eluriand was the primary target. Took an army of highly skilled Heroes to even stop Xem'Zund. That was history, currently was the present. And Creno's mind was just as scared shitless as the rest of Zulu Company's was.
Now, Zulu Company was a group of specialists that worked right out of Benoist. They did the worst jobs, the jobs that the brass considered untouchables. Clean ups, extractions, high level targets. All were within the resume of the Zulu Company. And in their midst was the quiet Hero named Creno. Though those days, he didn't feel much like a Hero. The moment he read the briefing report for the job they were now on, he'd regretted it. It's too close to Zombieland. Creno had argued with the brass. But, the brass always convinced with this or that deal, this or that gold piece value attached to the fucking mission. That's the way it always was. We fight, we die, they count their coffers full of gold pieces. It's all bullshit if you ask me, Xem'Zund should have razed the whole god damned planet.
"I'll take first watch tonight." Creno suddenly said. "I'm itching for a fight anyway."
"You all right Creno?" One of the women asked.
"Don't like this shit one bit. The extraction is too deep in Zombieland." Creno shook his head. "Damned brass has always been selfish pricks anyway."
"Are you certain of the intel report?" One of the men asked. "That village was iced years ago according to scouts."
"They spotted the distress flare about three days ago." Creno shook his head. "Simple ops job, just go in and extract the civ's then fall back to an evac zone."
"What's the catch?" Another asked.
"The catch?" Creno slammed his water skin against the ground. "Don't fucking die."
That was the only warning they would ever receive.