Acumin Under Attack, Part Two - All Participate

[Lichen]

The battle went on for hours, the undead attacking and killing until long after the triple suns had set and the solitary moon had risen. Underneath the half moon, more calamities befell the citizens of Acumin than they had though possible. After all, they'd already struggled through pox and then a raging fire that had consumed the town... it had seemed that their troubles were large enough to allow them some measure of future safety. But this was not to be. 200 undead, a handful of Vysstichi and a handful of demons ventured into town. Many of them were stopped by the troops and workers just outside town, but many slipped through the gaps and marched on the town, tearing down tents and attacking as they stumbled on.

Captain Relais had been a brilliant commander, but in the heat of battle he'd managed to lose his head. Deciding that fire was his best defense against the undead, he'd lit the woods on fire by exploding wagons full of tar, and sending in flaming arrows into the underbrush. While the forest had survived the fire that had consumed Acumin, it's dry and damaged underbrush and trees could not resist the second onslaught of flame and heat. Captain Relais was indeed too successful in this endeavor - he managed to surround himself with fire and in doing so, he himself killed far more of his own workers and troops than the undead ever could have. Dying from the heat, from panicked rushes into the flames themselves, or slowly succumbing to the deadly gases, the 550 men had been reduced to less than 50.

Their forests burning still, a fiery pyre of both the damned and the unlucky, the remaining villagers crowded into the tavern where another impromptu healing house had been set up. The Sooty Cavern Tavern and Inn had become the safe house for them before, and as it was then it was now. As the undead dropped from both man-dealt damage and the loss of their controllers, the villagers fled to the refuge of the only building standing, hoping to find some sort of salvation therein.

The tavern had been heavily attacked in the battle. Broken glass lay everywhere, as did bones, hunks of flesh, and both once-animated and once-living corpses. The townsfolk had numbered nearly 100 before the attack... they were half that number now, and everyone easily fit into the tavern despite the overturned tables and high number of corpses. Mila, the taverns only waitress, quickly became leader in the times of trouble, organizing the less distraught villagers and outsiders to toss the corpses outside so that they would have room to sleep, and organized a section of the tavern for those in special need of healing. Summoning bandages and bowls of water from the wrecked building, the waitress quickly set to work those distraught who needed a distraction to keep them from collapsing in on themselves. As she organized, she gathered her thoughts on the invasion, and once things were in place Mila pulled herself onto the bar, standing on top of it and yelling for the attention of those in the tavern still capable of listening.

With her hands on her hips and a serious look in her deep blue eyes, Mila regarded them from up on the bar counter. "Those undead didn't just attack us of their own accord, we know that." She said, her voice surprisingly quiet compared to the shout she'd used to gather attention. But then, in the silence that had followed her demands there was no need for shouting. Her solemn voice carried easily over the uneasy and mournful stillness of the night, the only other punctuation being the occasional moan of pain from the healing corner, and the crackle of fire in the distance. "They was directed here, plain and simple. Acumin has been attacked, and that means that Acumin has enemies. Enemies with undead troops, undead troops we cannot kill but only wound." Mila stared at each one of the listening audience members in turn, willing her point to be heard. "We ain't got much in the way of men here. The thane disappeared in the fire, the vice thane..." Mila's lips pressed together as she pushed past her own personal sorrows and moved on. "The vice thane was killed by the undead, and we ain't got but a handful of the militia left, all of them so young I can count their age on one hand. But Acumin's got one thing that our enemies don't." Mila paused, thrusting her jaws out and looking at them in a stubborn gesture of defiance. "They thinks we're dead down here, think that their forces near wiped us out, knocked us off our feet and left us naught but cryin' babies and wailin' grannies. But they're wrong - we ain't dead yet, and whilst they don't know that we gots ourselves an advantage."

"I say we attack. We been struck with the worst of the battle by my reckoning... they sent in so many undead I doubt they gots any troops left. We attack now and hard, while they thinks we're still down cryin' in the dirt, and we take them down before they know what's hit 'em and have a chance to gather their strength again." There was a cry from the crowd, as one villager asked who Mila meant. After all, who would send undead into Acumin, and who'd have enough power to send this many? Acumin didn't have any enemies that they knew of... Mila looked at the questioner as she answered, her gaze attentive and angry at the unnamed attacker. "You don' know who our enemy is?" She asked as if amazed. The man shook his head, as did the fellows around him. Shaking her own head in surprise, Mila straighted up and began to address the crowd again. "Earlier this darkenin' we had a visitor - a palefaced elf, askin' where the thane was. When I told him what happened, he left the tavern without a word. Twas only then I realized who it was, where I'd seen that face before." Mila paused dramatically, her eyes wide and her jaw tense. "T'ain't no other fiend but Darksoul himself that plague us now. An' I know where he lives, too. He lives in that Carmelya-forsaken tower just outside of town - and he don't know we're comin' for him."

Slamming her fist into her palm, Mila looked at them all, far from the ideal leader of a battle. "We gots to kill that murderin' theivin' bastard afore he comes back and kills us all, y'hear? Won't be no time at all afore we're havin' more undead on our doorstep with a man like that on the loose. I wouldn't be surprised," she said, her voice becoming slightly conspiratorial, "if that DarkSoul didn't get Hene Malster himself to burn down the town! He's a danger to us all, and right now he won't be expectin' an attack. Leave the children and the grannies here, and every able-bodied man and woman pick up a pickaxe and lets go kill that horror afore he comes back to finish us off." She finished grimly, waiting for the reaction of the crowd.

OOC: If you are in an Acumin Under Attack thread, you can participate here unless otherwise informed by a mod. (Skorri, you can't I've got other plans for you, my shape-shifting cross-dressing friend) This will happen directly after everyone's attack threads, so if you've received wounds you can go and get them patched up (feel free to bunny through this, keeping in mind this is just basic first aid stuff so no re-attatchments, etc) and then come over and listen to the speech and give your input, if you have any. Welcome to Phase 2 of the Attack on Acumin.

[Tellurion Tanendar]

Tal was rather glad that he was still alive. He leaned against a wall in the tavern, bending down to help any of the people doing some makeshift surgery and first aid on the floors and tables. His shoulder hurt. He constantly pressed it and its bandage against a wall in an attempt to dull the pain. It was partly successful.

He told a funny joke that made fun of his elvish heritage to a little girl having a splinter taken out of her arm, and she laughed so hard and so happily she didn't notice the splinter until he held it in front of her eyes, taken out of her arm. "All out," he said, twinkle in the eye. The rest of the tavern seemed to be in a complete mess.

He listened to the waitress talk of attacking the tower, and another pale elf. Why did it always seem that it was his kind causing all the trouble in Telath? He really didn't want to know.

He spoke up. "I suggest," he started, "That we perhaps formulate a plan before we try charging out like an angry mob? Angry mobs tend to get confused and run into various difficulties."
He looked at Mila. "I'm brand new here. Came here with two others. I have no idea where this tower is, or who it is we want to kill. Could it really be this Mr. Darksoul causing the trouble, or any other group of miscreants who want to trash a town? Even more important, what's the layout of the tower? A successful attack requires careful planning. A good Plan comes from good details. Do you know the layout of this tower, or of this Mr. DarkSoul's daily habits? It's better than charging out and dying miserably."

[Throk Mumson]

Throk listened to Mila's little speech. She sure was a Thain's daughter.

Throk sat idly against the wall. His new sword lay beside him, and Branch on the other side. When he came down with Mila, after their fight with the undead giant, he began to notice the numerous cuts, gashes, and bruises he had suffered tonight. His leg limped a little due to a deep cut in his thigh, and he had several other minor complaints all over his body. If he hadn't been a Giant, he might have been dead! Quietly, he thanked Mum for her good care for him.

A woman approached him with band-aid and a bowl of hot water. With a piece of cloth, she started to clean the leg wound so it wouldn't get infected.
"Yaargh!", Throk screamed loudly.
"Dat 'urts! Can't ya just put some water on it an' strap some of dat white stuff on it?!"
Pain washed through his leg as the water got poured on it. If that was the way all these people healed their sick and wounded, he wondered, he was suprised that they were still alive. What's wrong with a bit of licqour to close it up?! That's how mum healed all their wounds in the past.

"Sit still, or the wound will get infected, you big goof" the woman brutally told him.
"Do you want to get healed or not?"She looked at him with a determined look. Throk saw that her hair was grey, almost white. She didn't actually ask him if he wanted to be healed, she commanded him!

"Uhm....well. Ah think so, ma'am.", Throk said, kinda blown of his feet by the woman's grim determination. He let the woman do her thing and patch him up. Afterwards, it was kind of nice actually. He felt fresh, and the wound in his leg didn't sting or stink anymore. He stod up, trying his leg carefully. It worked just fine.
He walked across the room, to find himself next to Mila, who was just talking to a guy with funny pointy ears. He listened to the stranger's suggestions about her planned assualt on that odd black tower he had seen when he had arrived here. It didn't look very friendly then, let alone after he heard that the man responcible for this attack lived there!

"Just let me get mah sword and ah'll smash him up good!" He smashed his hands together to make his point. He was ready as he would ever be.

[Ungar Stonegrinder]

Ungar watched as Mila addressed the crowd. He knew what had to be done. The anger and rage he felt when fighting the undead was still fresh in his memory. If this so called darksoul was to blame than he would pay for all this suffering. To Ungar necromancers were the worst of the worst. For all he cared they would all be burned at the stake. And if nobody would do it then he would gladly.

Mila's idea sounded good enough. He agreed with the idea that they should attack now. Although he doubted that they would be able to suprise this Darksoul. If this man had enough power to summon an army of the undead he would surely have spies or even the magic power to detect them. But still he thought this plan might work. He could see that most townsmen were full of fury they would fight to the end to avenge there fallen and save there town.

Ungar saw that the giant was present as well. He was acting with his normal way. But after seeing him in battle Ungar had a new found respect for the man. He knew that the giant slayed more Undead then everybody els and would do so again without any fear. There was no place for fear in its tiny brain.

He also saw an elf. He was saying something about a plan. Although Ungar didn't care to much about elves he didn't have his kinds hatred towards them. But still he found it typical that an elf should talk about planning and sneaking. Daily habits? This was not some crime investigation this was all out war! Ungar didn't care for all the planning. He wanted to go now and purge the evil from that cursed tower. Who would be able to stop them when they had righteousness on there hand?

[Glingal]

Glingal stood up from the corner he had been resting in. His eyes battle weary but still holding a spark in them. He let his eyes drift across the rom from person to person. ' Could these townsfolk really be the army needed to take down such and obviously powerful necromancer.' He thought to himself.


As Glingal spoke adrenaline , still coursing through his body from the fight , caused his voice to be abnormally boisterous and rough "I agree with the elf. We should investigate the tower. If we don't know anything about the inside we should scout the outside. What do we know about its surroundings. Is is dense forest or are there openings. If there are openings how many. Is there any substantial source of water nearby. First we need to formulate a plan to get to the tower safely and to enter with the least resistance. Also the fire still burns we might be able to do what the others could not and use it to our advantage." When he finished he leaned comfortably against a wall and awaited an answer to some of his questions.

[Mortimer]

ooc: The post Marnia and i are in is going a bit slower than the other posts, which is fine. But am i safe to assume me and Marnia will eventually kill that undead giant? If not, please PM me or delete my post Lichen.

ic: After his battle Mortimer spat at the giants body. He looked at Marnia, but before he could say anything to the katta, the other survivors began to discuss what to do next. Mortimer sait down and put his axe across his lap. While he listened, Mortimer stretched his strained shoulder. He had strained muscles before and knew that they would heal in a day or two.

Mortimer nodded as Mila spoke. This Darksoul had to be held accountable for his actions. But how could they battle someone with control of the undead? Mortimer listened to all of them speak. Mortimer could not believe it, but he agreed with the elf. What if this Darksoul was not to blame. Mortimer got up from his chair, braced his axe o his shoulder and involved himself into the conversation.

" Count me in lass," he said to Mila, " but they are right. We need a plan or else we'll all be shredded. I do not think outright charging someone who can resurrect and control a giant," he indicated the corpse of the undead giant " would be wise. We need to formulate a strategy." Mortimer leaned on his axe waiting for the 'War Meeting' to continue.

[Marnia]

OOC: Same ooc note as Mortimer since I'm cheap

IC: Marnia was still dazed that the battle was over, the adrenaline was still pumping through her sore body and her claws were still extended. Still, she managed to calm her heart beat to a subtle roar so she could hear what the survivors were going on about. Attacking someone named Darksoul? Marnia wondered if that was some sort of nick name or given by the target's mother. She realized that wasn't really the topic at hand though, it didn't matter why the stranger was called that.

"I don't like this," Marnia muttered to Mortimer. Though the remaining crowd of the tavern were all strangers to her, she trusted the Dwarf most, just by familiarity. The whole idea of charging after some stranger for a town she just arrived in didn't appeal to Marnia. Especially since she still hadn't had a bath since she left the Prime. The Katta had priorities after all, and helping strangers wasn't among the top of her list.

Of course she felt a pang of guilt for not being so eager to help out these random smooth skins, it was like when she received the free drink, she felt the need to pay something. Marnia silently cursed her conscious, wishing she could just let these talkative blokes figure out their own deal and let her be on her way. Of course it wasn't exactly safe to go on her way, with who knows what wandering around.

She listened to the conversation go around as multiple people seemed to speak up. Marnia couldn't help but be annoyed at some of it. They wanted to go scout it out, so why stick around saying that? Why not just leave and check things out with a small group of people? Honestly, smooth-skinned sorts are so disorganized.

Her eyes glanced around the room for the main speakers, once of the first to talk was an Elf, go figure. Then some giant-looking man which sent a shiver down Marnia's spine, she had enough giants for the day, live or undead. She watched as the conversation continued onwards, some Dracon agreed with the Elf. Marnia took a second look to confirm that she had, indeed, seen a Dracon. She was suprised and rather setback by the stranger, but Marnia reasoned with herself. He was on Accumin's side in this battle, so that was a decent quality. Marnia looked over to Mortimer as he announced he was 'in.'

As the conversation settled in her mind, the Tigron thought it seemed obvious what to do, since it seemed this DarkSoul was responsible for this mess. As the Elf had said, send a few nimble and able sorts to scope things out, but also have strategies for the attack being formed in the safe-house of a tavern while that occurs. It'd save time, and information from the spies could be used to change the plans. They weren't necessary for making a plan all together. Still, the Katta chose to keep her mouth shut and watch the group plan things out to see what they'd think up, and how long it'd take them to carry things out.

She stood slightly behind her Dwarven companion, trying to be near the outer part of the group, while remaining close enough to listen. Marnia's arms were carefully folded, though one of her arms still ached terribly from the battle. She retracted her claws and stood up straight, with a serious, yet open expression on her face as she listened to the group.

[Ilmryn]

The young elf rested on the back wall of the tavern, sitting not far from the healers at work. The hood of his cloak once again covered his sapphire eyes, and his twin sabers, once again wrapped in the wool blanket, rested a few inches from his side.

He eyed the blades with new awe, for not more than an hour ago,with untrained luck he had slain, not one, but two of these undead. His thoughts wondered, blocking out the clutter of the tavern, even as the female began to speak. His eyes, half opened, danced around the room, scanning its occupants. This crowd was an odd one, from Elves to Giants.

Even a dracon dared to join them, arising from a shadow from Ilmryn's side, who instinctively pulled his sabers closer towards him, while eyeing the dracon.

He couldn't help but laugh a little when the creature dared to speak, pulling towards him a fallen chair on to which he propped his feet.

His hands slowly removed his hood, letting his long, tattered, brown hair fall free to his shoulders. The dracon spoke about scouting some tower, and was quickly joined by a dwarf and a katta in the conversation. The talk carried towards making a plan. From this, he could gather what the rousing speech had been about earlier.

"Aye, people you're all right, we would need a plan, but who among us has enough experience, or knowledge to make one? And how do you s'pose you can do that, when most of us are stangers, and you have no clue of what we are capiable of?"

[Lichen]

Mila's look as she heard Tellurion's suggestion was not a kindly one. Mila wanted to kill, wanted to attack before DarkSoul got wind of their plot - couldn't he understand the need for haste? Of course, part of her bloodlust was due to gried, funneling into anger through her own desperate need to do something or fall into despair like so many others. Her father had been the last surviving member of her family... and now he was gone, consumed by the undead legions of the bastard DarkSoul. Her face scowled, turning fear and sorrow into rage, and she spoke again, not wanting to waste time bandying words about but rather attack while there was still time. "No, I don't know anythin' but the fact that DarkSoul' there and where there is." Her eyes narrowed. "Dar Havark is rumored to hold all sorts of nasties, though no doubt most of them were the ones we've already laid to rest once more." Licking her lips, Mila shrugged and admitted that perhaps his ideas were right. "I suppose scouting could be good, but we don't got much time - will you volunteer to lead a small group to scout and return? Like I said, we ain't got much time, but we can give you a headstart and meet you there."

Mila was, however, pleased to see that some if not all matched her bloodthirst and need for action. Throk especially - the giant and she seemed to be of a like mind on many things. If they lived through this, she imagined the two of them would probably grow to be great friends. The suggestion of a leader pulled the wind from her sails, however... Mila was dedicated and ready to move to action, and quick enough to mobilize healers and clean up the inn, but she didn't know much about fighting. "But who could lead us?" She asked, searching the crowd for an answer to the question. Her eyes alighted on Marnia, the kattarian woman standing somewhere in the crowd looking relatively impassive yet ready for action. "How 'bout you, milady? I heard rumor tell you were a lietuenant o' some sort."

[Telcontar]

Gazing around what was left of the village through pained, darkened grey eyes surveyed the damage, the ruthless slaughtering of helpless villagers for no reason beyond the lust of blood and command of some master. The very idea, the concept, that someone or something could want to destroy so mindlessly and then go ahead and do it was so utterly disturbing that it physically made the tëleris want to retch. It made him want to cry out in anguish for these people and the living Aeternia they were being put through for no reason, not because of the bits of rotten flesh and dried blood that covered most of his upper body, not the injuries sustained by the woman he loved—though that would have been a close second in line—but the raw attempt at annihilating the poor souls who called the accursed land home. Never before had Telc witnessed such insanity, and he hoped never again to; a solitary tear slid down his face as he gazed out upon the madness while vainly trying to brush some of the decrepit flesh from his clothing. Madness, total madness.

But he was not allowed the time to ponder the “why’s” or “how’s” of an undead invasion of Acumin, each precious moment that fluttered by on the wings of time during which he did nothing was wasted; Jesaka needed immediate medical attention and standing around thinking was not accomplishing it. So with that in mind he loosed his death grip on the sweat absorbent hilt of his flanged mace, the spikes dripped with the black blood of several undead and the white bone residue of skeletons, and clipped it to its place on his belt. The time required to gather together everything he had dropped and shove it back into the crude bag he carried everything around in seemed non-existent and in no time he was squatted somewhat uncomfortably at Jesaka’s side in a concern that very nearly bordered on panic. “Jesaka, are you ok?” Telc asked, voice choked and breaking with emotion. He knew she wasn’t deathly injured, but he was scared nonetheless. Not waiting for an answer he tore the tattered sleeve of his shirt off and wrapped it crudely around her wounded shoulder. “You’ll be ok, we’ll get you some help.” It was more assurance for himself, the quake in his voice could do nothing to reassure her.

Jesaka had stayed silent through the whole ordeal, biting down hard on her bottom lip to keep the whimpers of pain from escaping. Had she let even a single one through she knew that Telcontar would have nearly killed himself with worry over her and probably hurt himself somehow in the process. Ever since Port Constantine he had been extremely protective of her, asking if she was ok if he thought she may have been hurt to the point where she had to tell him to stop it with a gentle firmness. The stubborn tëleris had agreed eventually, but though he didn’t say anything, his face and eyes spoke volumes as to what he was thinking. But this time things were slightly different, she had a large gash in her shoulder and Jesaka knew she needed someone with experience to attend to it. “Telcontar.” She said softly, “Telc, look at me.” A little louder, invoking his nickname this time and stroking back his dirtied blond hair. If things kept going they way they had been it was going to become permanently darkened. When he did meet her blue eyes with those dark grey ones of his, she said quickly. “I’m going to be ok. Just help me walk.”

As the two of them entered the tavern, dirty and tired from fighting as well as the lack of a chance to use an available bathing facility, Telc shot a worried glance over to Jesaka who he supported on his right side, holding her up. He would have liked to have carried her here, letting the injured tëlera preserve her strength, but he was still a little too tired and he knew she would have adamantly refused, so there wasn’t even a point in trying to convince her. Another quick look around was given to the inside of the barely standing building that appeared to have become a headquarters of sorts for the villagers. Those who had survived, anyway. Too few, too few. It was a sad reality often seen in warfare, too many died fighting the fight of someone else. But like the sad situation and state of the town, Telc did not have the time to even think on the subject, which was why he immediately stumbled forward with Jesaka in one arm towards the closest healer, who happened to be in the near corner. The table that was serving as a rudimentary bed was all that was available in near vicinity and so he took it, helping lift Jesaka up and placing her with all the care he could manage onto the table. “She has a shoulder wound and several other minor injuries.” He informed the person stepping forward to help out, but left it at that as Mila took her place atop the bar counter and began to speak. To his beloved he smiled down at her and took her hand tightly in his, lending his support to her.

Not only all that was said by the mere girl and unofficial leader of the ragtag band of survivors did Telc hear, but also much of what was said and done around the common room. The muted cries of pain and groans drifted his way, the mumbled conversations he caught on the edge of his hearing, but they were all blocked out when Mila started to explain and give the needed details of what was going on. Slowly things began to make sense, this Darksoul was the one getting blamed for the swarm of undead marauding the village and its occupants, and it was understandable why they would do so. Someone was needed to blame, and even if they didn’t have any proof that he had actually done this, he must have had a bad reputation preceding himself to be the first to acquire the blame. And though a certain amount of anger and possibly rage would be needed to mount the counter attack Mila wished for so desperately, blind commitment to her plan would be foolhardy. There were too many unknown factors, yet none of those present seemed to be taking the time to consider such a possibility.

The natural slight dip of his forehead that resembled a permanent frown deepened into the real thing with the more the tëleris heard, and the more he heard the more inclined he became to saying something about it. By nature he tried to avoid drawing attention to himself, disliking the spotlight, but in this case with so many more lives possibly being thrown away, he felt compelled to speak up. It required releasing his grip on Jesaka which he was quite loath to do, but he did it out of necessity mouthing ‘I’ll be back’ to her as he moved forward through the crowd. When he reached the front of the room, before Mila, Telc turned and took a deep breath as he faced the mob. Raising his sleekly muscled arms into the air, he called for attention. “People of Acumin, listen for a moment.” His voice rang out loud among the low murmur of chatter, so he waited until all had fallen silent.

“You are right that something needs to be done, that a counter attack needs to be made for all of our survivals. However, let us not be rash in this matter, the consequences are not ones any here would like to consider. Firstly consider this, what proof do you have to the fact that this Darksoul is indeed the one who we should bring our grievances against?” At that point Telc was forced to pause so he could lick his dry and cracked lips and gather more saliva. “Secondly, organizing the attack is also essential, but I believe that so far you are not considering all that you should. A leader, or group of leaders, should be chosen to lead us. There is already a nomination in case any would like to support that choice. Unless I am mistaken, none here posses a copy of the layout of the tower, and if I am not mistaken, then how do you purpose to acquire one? If a scouting part is to be sent out, I volunteer as the first member of it, though I am still tired from the first fight.”

By the point his hands were shaking slightly and his throat was unusually tight, but he was almost done and so continued on. “My last proposition is that all those with experience in matters such as these please rise and come forward. I believe it will assist in the process of choosing those to lead us.” There, he was done. The tëleris had in no way been trying to steal the position as leader from Mila, but he felt that it had been the best way to get his point across. Not everything had been presented or done properly the way he saw it; he had accidentally skipped over a point or two in his nervousness, but there was nothing left to do but listen to everyone’s reactions.

[Throk Mumson]

Throk listend to all who dripped into the room. It seemd quite a few people had survived the attack, although none of them were in a good shape. No wonder, really. He had seen the numerous corpses outside the tavern. If Throk could count such high numbers he would be amazed, so he thought.

Another pointy-eared man came up and said a lot of unimportant things about the assault. That guy was clearly still effected by the fight, perhaps a heavy blow to his head or something. He was blathering and whining like a child. And he was even telling that Mila was wrong! How dare he! She just had the roughest night in her life, and he stood there, calmly telling her that she was wrong!
"Are yoo telling dat Meela is lyin'?!", he yelled at him. He shook an angry fist at Telcontar.
"Yer talkin'to Meela, remembah!"
He felt like hitting the Elf. Such ignorance!
"Why don't ya stop talkin'such crap and go wiv us in da assualt!"

[Ungar Stonegrinder]

At first Ungar didn't care at all about all those people wanting things there way. As long as they would go kill something evil it was all fine by him. But now things were starting to get anoying. Some elf was claiming that Mila was wrong. It wouldn't suprise Ungar much of he was some agent or spy sent by that Darksoul guy. Ungar was starting to dislike elves.

Ungar didn't feel anything for leading. He was inexperienced and didn't want to take care of more people then one. Ofcourse he would help his friend and all who was with them in any way he could. But leading? Nah. He just wanted to fight. When the sugestion was made that a scouting party was needed Ungar wanted to get in. Not that he was much into the hole sneaking around thing, but that way he would be able to get to the enemy and finish this.

Aye, I'm goining that scouting party as well. Every second we waist here complaining the Dark one will use to gather new forces. Do you really thing this town can survive another attack? He guessed this would get him some attention. He didn't really want to get into an argument with some elf but he just wanted to speed things up. If they waited to long they would propably face another undead army and with so few people left Ungar had no illusions about how that would end.

[Mortimer]

" I dont like this either lass, but this town needs all the help it can get before it is completely destroyed." Mortimer whispered to Marnia.

Mortimer looked at Marnia curiously when Mila nominated the katta as a leader. How very little Mortimer knew about this katta that he had traveled and fought an undead beast with. Mortimer continued leaning on his axe. He was definately not a leader. This was the first time he had left Prime! With nothing to say, Mortimer waited for the events to continue to develop. All Mortimer knew was that if Marnia did lead a party into the castle, he would go with her.

[Snake]

OOC: Everyone participating in my threads are good to go here, most already have.

[Tellurion Tanendar]

Tal listened tot he hubbub of angry voices, some wanting to take some time to plan, the others out for the kill. He had an idea pop into his head at that very instant.

"How about," he said, "we compromise? We send out an abnormally large scouting party, and everyone else follows us along who wants to kill some people or dead things. We reach the place, and the scouts can map the area out, and plan a good attack based on their first hand intelligence. We can also find out whether this Darksoul is behind everything as well, of course... and if the coast is clear, I'm sure the scouting party can start the attack there and then and have no need to involve all the people here who would otherwise not want to be part of an angry mob."

Tal shrugged. "I don't care overmuch either way. It's just a suggestion..."