War Time--at the Apartments
It's a quiet day, but that doesn't mean that it'll stay that way. Most of the hard-core warriors are off fighting a war, and the Home Team doesn't know if, at the end of the day, they'll see their comrades marching back to them, or a crowd of ravenous Magog running towards them instead.
The silence is almost uncanny.
Almost.
Everyone is in position and ready to fight--since it's entirely possible there will be a counter-attack.
The tension is like a harp-string drawn taut; it's almost sweet, almost a relief, when the grey shapes start running from the surrounding buildings towards the walls of the Apartments.
A signal is given by one of the people at the wall, and Iroh's voice bellows out, loud enough for all to hear.
"TAKE YOUR POSITIONS! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!"
They have sharper fangs than normal Magog, these things, and far uglier faces.
Vampire Magog. Ten of them. That's all it will take to destroy the Apartments, after all, since hardly anything can stop them, not even daylight.
Beheading or staking is everyone's best best, as they've been taught. But can they get in close enough to do it without being slaughtered?
The silence is almost uncanny.
Almost.
Everyone is in position and ready to fight--since it's entirely possible there will be a counter-attack.
The tension is like a harp-string drawn taut; it's almost sweet, almost a relief, when the grey shapes start running from the surrounding buildings towards the walls of the Apartments.
A signal is given by one of the people at the wall, and Iroh's voice bellows out, loud enough for all to hear.
"TAKE YOUR POSITIONS! WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!"
They have sharper fangs than normal Magog, these things, and far uglier faces.
Vampire Magog. Ten of them. That's all it will take to destroy the Apartments, after all, since hardly anything can stop them, not even daylight.
Beheading or staking is everyone's best best, as they've been taught. But can they get in close enough to do it without being slaughtered?