<i>Protect those who can  not protect themselves.</i><br/><br/>Drip,<i>drip</i>, drip. The soft pitter-patter of rain strummed lightly upon the canopy above drowning out the sound  of his approach. He had not bothered to cover his tracks knowing that the rain would most likely wash them away, nor did he expect to run into any who might have known him. Yet the persistent feeling that he was being followed, lingering, as  if his own shadow. Soon the visage of the town still scarred by war sprang into view as he came upon where the forest ended and the town  began.<br/><br/>The town of Untergard had been relatively subdued in the aftermath of the attack a few swinging lanterns cast an eerie glow onto the streets below which seemed to ripple across the surface of the water below.<i>So much for a warm welcome. </i>if he had been expecting to find a lively inn filled with song and dance he would have been sorely mistaken.  Having no such expectations, he pushed himself from the tree and began his descent towards the town. Boots clicking softly against stone, water filling shallow ruts  and holes – even before the attack the town must not have been  well maintained   he surmised.  Piecing together the events which must have occurred there as he walked,<br/><br/>A few broken crates where someone had fallen onto them. Broken windows which  had  yet  to  be boarded up; A few shutters closed as he passed by evidently – they were not  taken to strangers in such hours after recent events. Yet he paid it no  attention;  and continued walking  until he had  arrived at the bridges. It was here that the fighting had seemed most concentrated evident by the damage the bridge had sustained. He examined it carefully- again each piece of evidence painting a different picture. Too late to do anything about it now..<br/><br/>He arrived at the inn; pushing open the door and pulling his hood back. Lengths of raven black hair clinging to his face and beads of water dripping from his nose. – Ordering a room. He was surprised to find that the others  had been occupied, not expecting the town to receive many  visitors in light of the attacks, leaving him to accept the smallest room available, though even abed of hay had seemed like a luxury  compared  to the wild.—Yet sleep had eluded him once more and he took to sitting in the common  room merely listening to the disquieted  talks of the townsfolk. It seemed  that war had been a common occurrence nowadays and this town had not been spared.<br/><br/>No amount of rain would have been able to wash away the blood.<br/><br/>---The next day---<br/><br/>The rising sun chased away the rain offering the townsfolk glimmer’s  of hope with the promise of a new da and the horrors of battle behind them.  However the h sky remained sullen and gray as if a dark reminder. The survivors seemed to have been gathering within the town-square. Their spirits elevated by the words of Captain Schiller and the promise of a few pieces of bread and wine from Middenheim it was amazing how something so mundane seeming had that effect on them, though to those that had lost everything, anything  was perhaps a blessing.<br/><br/>Gilliam lingered within the inn allowing the townsfolk to file out into the streets, before slowly following himself  noting a few of the others who had arrived  before him and though he stood taller than most of the townsfolk he decided to get a better view – by climbing onto the rooftop overlooking the square curious as to what the captain would have  to  say.<br/><i><br/>
Bang.</i>the sound permeated  the town as if the cracking of thunder as a  gun went off shattering the glass Schiller had been holding  dousing him in wine.<i>it seemed his victory speech would have to weight </i>gray hues  drifted towards the bridge where seemingly the noise had come from a  group of invading  mutants  attempting to cross. And  where had  the captain been? Seemingly fleeing with  the  rest.. Soon  everything had been driven into<i>chaos..</i>as  shouts begin to fill the air and the people began to run through the  streets trampling over one another in their panic.  Thankfully he had been well and truly out of the way giving him a moment to assess the situation.<br/><br/><i>The bridge</i>would be key, it would not matter their numbers as long as long as they could keep it from being overtaken. Yet, the townsfolk seemed too frightened to take up arms… and as the square began to clear he noticed a few who had  been brave enough to confront the approaching enemies rather than flee.<i>She would.. </i>There was a flash of gold as his gaze lingered upon a certain bounty hunter and he rubbed the side of his neck. It was still in-tact. A few others had been rallying towards her side evidently prepared to take on the horde as well as a group already began to make their way across the bridge.<br/><br/>He was quick towards his feet scanning the grounds below for anything that they could use to constrict the bridge and funnel their enemies. Surely the supplies had been transferred by way of  cart, this would be his first goal.