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I will continue the story of Syris, Psycho, and Megadeth. For your information, their names are NOT subject to change. For personal reasons, they will keep these odd names. If it makes you feel any better, imagine that those are just nicknames.

Syris and his weary companions staggered into the delapidated town. Few houses still stood. It was as if the town had been ripped apart board by board. It was hard to tell how zombies, mindless as they are, were capable of this much destruction. They wandered aimlessly throughout the town in search of the church. Instead, they found out why the town was so torn apart.

The three adventurers stared at wonder at the "church". A huge make-shift wall surrounded a cathedral. This wall consisted of random assortments of ceilings, cottage walls, door, and any other scrap of wood the villagers could scavenge. How this wall was standing using only discarded wood, confused Syris. It was simply impossible. That was not the last time Syris would think that.

"Hey you!" a voice from above shouted, "What are you doing down there?" A guard standing at the top of the wall was staring down at them from his twenty foot perch. Another impossibilty! There was no way a rickety wooden wall could hold a man, let alone the fifteen others Syris spotted.

"We are weary travelers," Syris answered, "We need food and shelter! Can you spare some?" The man above them dissapeared. A few minutes later, he returned. He looked at them with interest as he spoke.

"You three look strong," he said thoughtfully, "Can you hold your own in battle?"

"Aye!" Psycho shouted back, "Feed me well and I'll fight with the strength of ten of your men!"

"Ha! I like your spirit! Very well! If you agree to fight with us, we will care for you," the guard replied heartily.

A gate that was hidden among the shambled scraps of buildings opened up in the wall. The guard stepped out.




Sorry but I'm being cut off short. I'll try writing more next time!