Seth steps through the dense, tangled brush of the backwoods, the air thick with the scent of pine needles and damp decay. The rhythmic sound of shifting gravel draws his gaze toward the overgrown remains of a long-forgotten supply road.
Seth
The Kingdom is safe for the night, but this road feels like a carotid artery waiting to be cut. If the Whisperers are planning to bypass the walls, they will use this artery to bleed us dry.
A figure emerges from the gray mist, draped in tattered, camouflaged mesh. It is Morgan Jones, holding a long wooden staff with a weary but sharp focus. He stops ten paces away, his eyes scanning the horizon behind Seth.
Morgan Jones
Seth — You have a shadow, Seth. Someone has been trailing us since we cleared the ridge. It is not just one walker, it is a pack.
Seth
Then we stop running. If they want to hunt, we make sure they find what they are looking for.
Seth
Time to stop reacting and start orchestrating the end of this nuisance once and for all.
+ Scene Quest Added
Eliminate the pack of walkers trailing the group
“Abraham comes out and says there just walkers we don't wanna waste are time”
SUCCESS (Good Diplomacy, rolled +1)
The brush parts violently as a large, red-haired man surges forward. It is Abraham Ford, his tactical gear caked in mud, his eyes fixed on the horizon rather than the pair.
Abraham Ford
Pull your heads out of the sand, boys. It is just a pack of rotters trailing the scent. We do not have the ammo to burn on a mindless herd, and I am not wasting my time playing shepherd for the dead.
Seth
You are missing the point, Abraham. They are not wandering. They are being pushed. If we do not thin them here, they reach our walls by dusk.
Abraham pauses, his aggressive posture softening as he processes the tactical reality of the approaching horde. He exhales, a sharp, ragged sound, and shifts his rifle to a low carry.
Abraham Ford
You have a point, but make it quick. I have a long road ahead and a very small amount of patience for stragglers.
Seth
He knows I am right. Now, to lure them into a kill zone without drawing more attention.
+ Scene Quest Added
Eliminate the encroaching walker horde
“Shane and Stella should have radio in already I hope there alright I say as we run from the walkers”
SUCCESS (Legendary Tactics, rolled +0)
The sound of a static crackle cuts through the tension as a walkie-talkie clipped to Seth's vest chirps to life.
Morgan Jones
Seth, the frequency is clear. Shane and Stella are holding at the rally point. They confirm the perimeter is secure for now, but they report heavy movement from the Whisperer tracks.
Seth
If they are already in position, we have a window. But that window is closing fast.
The distant, rhythmic shuffling of hundreds of boots on dry leaves grows louder, vibrating through the soles of their boots. Abraham tightens his grip on his rifle, his knuckles white.
Abraham Ford
If they are at the rally point, then we need to draw this herd into the ravine, not the gate. We cut them off, or we lose the whole lot of them.
Seth
Agreed. We move now, stay low, and keep the noise discipline absolute. If we break line, we are dead.
Seth
The herd is closer than I thought. No more talk. Time to execute.
“As there radio cuts out and Stella and Shane are kidnapped by the terminus people but we don't know that yet”
SUCCESS (Legendary Tactics, rolled +1)
The walkie-talkie emits a shrill, dying hiss. The signal from Shane and Stella cuts into static, then absolute, unnerving silence. Seth taps the device sharply, but only white noise answers him.
Seth
They were just checking in. That cut was too clean. Interference or... something else.
Morgan Jones
Seth, you getting anything? It went dark on my end too.
Seth
Nothing. Keep your eyes on the ravine. If they aren't coming back, we have to finish this without them.
The brush suddenly snaps behind them. It is not the shambling gait of a walker, but the rhythmic, coordinated footfalls of people who know how to hunt. Seth spins, his hand instinctively dropping to the grip of his AK-47. The woods are too still. The wind dies down, and a metallic scent—fresh, chemical, and wrong—wafts through the trees.
Seth
Not walkers. We've been followed.
Abraham Ford
Incoming. Three o'clock. Move, or we're the ones being hunted.
+ Scene Quest Added
Survive the ambush