A strong gust of wind blew across the empty streets, blowing dust and refuse off of the bridge. This part of the bridge was completed hundreds of years ago, leaving it void of all life. The fact that it was somewhere near the middle of the bridge made it a choice area for wrong-doing. Lucas shifted onto his back foot, easing away from the rolling fog that had enveloped the area. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
This mission was meant for one of his superiors to complete, he was just supposed to tag along and help where he could. Sadly, for him at least, his superior had been called back for what was presumably a more urgent mission. It was about mid-day when the pirates left to make what appeared to be an urgent delivery. Lucas moved around the bridge to confirm their numbers. It didn’t take him long to notice that this was quite the large shipment. He caught his first glimpse of Brent Jones later that day.
The man appeared to be a walking, talking mass of muscle. It took 3 of his subordinates to carry a single crate and yet Brent easily took 2 crates on his own each trip. After making 4 trips in the time that it took the other pirates to make one, the Captain began to visible anger. "Go back on your patrols if you're going to take half the damn day to make a trip!" Brent bellowed, annoyed at the two who were supposed to be aiding him. The grunts headed off into the fog, following their patrol routes and grumbling under the breath all the way. Luckily for the young marine Brent was pre-occupied with the loading process, as he now was performing it alone. He'll be busy for a while, I should try to find Oscar and take him out! With a rough idea of his next objective, Lucas set his eyes to the sky. From what he knew of his intended adversary, he would be scouting from a vantage point.
He'd been briefed on Oscar's strengths and general personality. It made sense for a marksman of his skill to isolate himself in a place where he could see a threat coming from a long way out. Looking around the surrounding area revealed that the only building not demolished for its materials was the former Guard Tower. Although Lucas could not see accurately through the fog, he didn't need to. Upon reaching the perimeter of the guard post Lucas heard what he thought to be a conversation. Taking note of the pillar of smoke coming from the chimney, the young marine slowly made his way towards the sounds.
"Boss'll be angry if he finds out we're not patrollin' like we're 'posed to." What was meant to be a whisper was instead loud and squeaky, as if its owner was still going through puberty. The man it came out of was quite the opposite of a teenager.
"Quiet, George! A man needs to relax every once in a while. 'sides Oscar took care of that marine ages ago, not like he had a chance to give our location up."
The conversation continued on as the two men shared a pipe and what was most likely a flask of alcohol. Even though Lucas had not moved and their volume had stayed at the same level, he was unable to hear them very well. Upon learning the fate of his fellow marine, he'd already made up his mind. No matter the cost he would make them pay for their misdeeds. After what seemed like ages he managed to reign in his anger and formulate a plan.
This mission was meant for one of his superiors to complete, he was just supposed to tag along and help where he could. Sadly, for him at least, his superior had been called back for what was presumably a more urgent mission. It was about mid-day when the pirates left to make what appeared to be an urgent delivery. Lucas moved around the bridge to confirm their numbers. It didn’t take him long to notice that this was quite the large shipment. He caught his first glimpse of Brent Jones later that day.
The man appeared to be a walking, talking mass of muscle. It took 3 of his subordinates to carry a single crate and yet Brent easily took 2 crates on his own each trip. After making 4 trips in the time that it took the other pirates to make one, the Captain began to visible anger. "Go back on your patrols if you're going to take half the damn day to make a trip!" Brent bellowed, annoyed at the two who were supposed to be aiding him. The grunts headed off into the fog, following their patrol routes and grumbling under the breath all the way. Luckily for the young marine Brent was pre-occupied with the loading process, as he now was performing it alone. He'll be busy for a while, I should try to find Oscar and take him out! With a rough idea of his next objective, Lucas set his eyes to the sky. From what he knew of his intended adversary, he would be scouting from a vantage point.
He'd been briefed on Oscar's strengths and general personality. It made sense for a marksman of his skill to isolate himself in a place where he could see a threat coming from a long way out. Looking around the surrounding area revealed that the only building not demolished for its materials was the former Guard Tower. Although Lucas could not see accurately through the fog, he didn't need to. Upon reaching the perimeter of the guard post Lucas heard what he thought to be a conversation. Taking note of the pillar of smoke coming from the chimney, the young marine slowly made his way towards the sounds.
"Boss'll be angry if he finds out we're not patrollin' like we're 'posed to." What was meant to be a whisper was instead loud and squeaky, as if its owner was still going through puberty. The man it came out of was quite the opposite of a teenager.
"Quiet, George! A man needs to relax every once in a while. 'sides Oscar took care of that marine ages ago, not like he had a chance to give our location up."
The conversation continued on as the two men shared a pipe and what was most likely a flask of alcohol. Even though Lucas had not moved and their volume had stayed at the same level, he was unable to hear them very well. Upon learning the fate of his fellow marine, he'd already made up his mind. No matter the cost he would make them pay for their misdeeds. After what seemed like ages he managed to reign in his anger and formulate a plan.