The Midnight Watch

The stables have now been acquired by Althalus as the official stable master of Blackwell, all animals requiring stabling will go through him and his stablehands.

Flee...

SLAM! - The walls had finally fallen in, the insistent croaking of burning wood stopping as the crash brought silence for a couple of seconds, then the screams started, throat wrenching screams...

Hide...

They had made it through.... the screams were worsening, heightening to a ear shattering pitch as panic turned to stark terror. We were meant to have been safe. The first victim was grabbed, her coarse wailing aiding her not one inch as the hulking corpses drove her to the ground, feasting on her whilst she was still alive, her cries of terror slowly turned into sounds no person should ever have to utter. As her screams subdued, death taking her into mercy the real chaos ensued as the shambling corpses of the living dead saw the rest of the townsfolk, feral inhuman grins appearing on their rotting faces. The feast had begun...

Run.... RUN!

Craystor threw his halberd down and uniform off in a frenzied panic, sweat drenching his shirt beneath, the sigil of a guardsman on his uniform easily left behind in the blood soaked mud with the rest of the villagers he had promised to protect. Looking back to see a mother having her child ripped from her hands he turned and ran for the Western gate. The scene unfolding before him as he ran was that of a nightmare, down the alleys the zombies were feasting on human flesh, cries of pain and anguish drowned out by the ripping and tearing of limbs, he kept running...

Get to the gate... get out!

His fingers betraying his absolute stark terror, he failed to open the gate the first time with the keys authorised to him by the town council, fingers shaking and pasty white. Breathe.... Eyes set wide in terror he attempted to put the key to the gate once more, the heavy iron resisting his frantic tugging and turning at first, cursing and hissing in frustration his second attempt yielded success, the lock opening, the heavy hinges of the gate shrieking open matching the noise coming from behind him...

Get out..... lock it behind you...

Frantically working the lock once more he started to lock the gate behind himself, his back to the woods of Yew whilst he struggled with the unyielding gate. The screams grew nearer... frantic shouting and pleas of mercy heard from his friends, his colleagues his... wife? She was running just behind the rest of the townsfolk, modesty thrown aside as she ran in just her shirt and undergarments, cuts, scratches and worse covering her body like the rest of the townspeople.

OPEN THE BLOODY GATE!!

A chorus of screams and noise as the townspeople smashed up against the closed gate, Craystor on the other side with the keys watching their frantic frenzy as they claw and press up against the hinges of the gate, faces washed in fear and human anguish... Looking at his wife he see's she's holding one of the babies, her face sweaty and muddy yet still beautiful all the same with it's heart like shape outlined by auburn wavy locks of hair, but like the townspeople eyes frantic in fear as she watches her husband on the other side of the gate.. her lips moves, mouthing something incomprehensible, Craystor stares into her brown eyes then her lips trying to read her words..

You did this....

Her lips move over and over again repeating those putrid words... You did this.... you did this... She knew everything... what he had done in the village, his dealings with the others, his betrayals, the hooded stranger in red and more. He stared into her eyes, they suddenly widened in fear, the howling and shrieking soon send the villagers into a panicked chaos as children and the elderly were trampled to death as more and more of the villagers arrived shortly followed by the terrible horde of undead, bodies covered in blood and limbs from earlier victims... The villagers shouts and pleas for mercy grew louder drowning out all other sounds as the villagers at the back were slowly being devoured by the oncoming horde..

You did this....

Her lips uttered those final words... the undead were approaching her, the shouting and wailing of the towns people crescendoing to a animalismic roar of utter terror. Craystor did the only thing he could, dropping the key to the ground he saw his wife's face drop, her curses turning into shrieks of revulsion as the zombies came to her at last... he left them all to be eaten alive...

The longer they feed, the more time you have to get away

The last thing he heard before setting out into the woods were the frantic feasting of the zombies and terrified screams of townsfolk trapped with them. He left the town known as Abbeywood behind.

Craystor ran.

A incident was reported to the militia of a individual causing a disturbance at the inn, beating a local barmaid, smashing a window and causing general havoc.

The militia would like for all citizens be aware that this individual is both armed and can be dangerous, we do not want anyone to be injured so be sure if you wish to bring him in to bring back up or get a member of the militia.

Here is a artist description of the individual.

Tall with a black beard and dirty apron, wearing a chain mail tunic and is considered very tall and old.

Collect your coins upon delivery, must be caught alive, injuries and such is allowed, however nothing too permanent.

*Signed*

Captain Craystor Rake.