Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-34904368-20190129142118/@comment-36855838-20190129175734

The trek along the seashore had dragged throughout the day, but it was that or the mountains, and we'd lose enough men to our task alone, we couldn't waste resources up there.

So we arrived at the graveyard, with sea-spray and wind at our backs, the undead would have a horrid sense of smell, so we would have nothing to worry about.

The charge began, or rather, our surgery began.

Our bodies were coated in black quilted armor, and our hooded heads wove through the gravestones like water through a flooding town's streets.

They were easy to find, often half buried and desperately clawing their way free of the ground as we approached, hoping to snare us.

Their chests were perfectly in reach, and our blades cut easily throught their soft flesh to reach their stilled hearts.

I personally collected three, and began the trip home.

I heard a man call out for aid, a Ghoul had sunk her teeth into his leg.

I swerved off course to intercept him, and another man joined me.

We agreed to each take a single heart, rather than fighting over them, as it would only attract more attention.

The rest of the return trip was mostly uneventful.