https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/ Tue, 20 Oct 2026 07:48:35 +0000 MyBB https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=660 Fri, 17 Sep 2021 22:20:41 +0000 Dallas Saraiva-Hertado]]> https://blood-and-bone.silhouette-forums.com/showthread.php?tid=660

The ground crunched beneath his leather boots, not because it was cold, but because it was littered in slabs of concrete and detritus. The Stronghold may have been an impressive structure, but the area around it had fallen into disrepair, a place that could easily shelter hostile drifters and Infected from view.

He had a service rifle cradled in his hands, poised so that it could be aimed and fired in a matter of seconds. His view was obstructed to a verdant sheen, one that was bespeckled with noise but did an adequate job of shaping his surroundings in shades of green and white. The nights were getting colder, Dallas realized, as a breeze elicited goosebumps from Dallas' exposed forearms. That would not stop the Infected, who thrived in the dark and cold.

Usually Military patrols were limited at night time, only utilized for the most necessary of tasks. This was one of them, where signs of an Infected nest at the Old Rail Yard had been reported by daytime sentry, yet the precise location was unknown. That's where the higher ups were called to deal with the threat when darkness fell and cricket-song filled the air. It was when the Infected would crawl out of their hovels and hunt- and where Captain Geoff and Lieutenant Saraiva-Hertado could pinpoint a location based on Infected activity and eliminate the suspected nest.

They had split at the west end of the railyard, where the ground fell to an eight foot concrete wall that lined the rickety rails and abandoned freight cars. Dallas took the southern hemisphere of the Yard, while Alex had taken the north, and Dallas had since kept his senses alert for Infected activity. It was still, to the point where all Dallas could hear was his own breathing inside the night vision mask and the distant call of an owl, its hoots low and rhythmic like the babbles of a stream.

Dallas sacrificed his sure hold on the rifle to fish out his comm and hold it up to his mouth. "This is Lieutenant SH. There's no sign of Infected so far and I've scouted a quarter of the Yard already." Alex was one of Dallas' closest friend, and yet his tone in the comm was rigidly formal, like he were talking to a distant superior than a trusted compatriot.

Tag : Alexander Geoff

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The ground crunched beneath his leather boots, not because it was cold, but because it was littered in slabs of concrete and detritus. The Stronghold may have been an impressive structure, but the area around it had fallen into disrepair, a place that could easily shelter hostile drifters and Infected from view.

He had a service rifle cradled in his hands, poised so that it could be aimed and fired in a matter of seconds. His view was obstructed to a verdant sheen, one that was bespeckled with noise but did an adequate job of shaping his surroundings in shades of green and white. The nights were getting colder, Dallas realized, as a breeze elicited goosebumps from Dallas' exposed forearms. That would not stop the Infected, who thrived in the dark and cold.

Usually Military patrols were limited at night time, only utilized for the most necessary of tasks. This was one of them, where signs of an Infected nest at the Old Rail Yard had been reported by daytime sentry, yet the precise location was unknown. That's where the higher ups were called to deal with the threat when darkness fell and cricket-song filled the air. It was when the Infected would crawl out of their hovels and hunt- and where Captain Geoff and Lieutenant Saraiva-Hertado could pinpoint a location based on Infected activity and eliminate the suspected nest.

They had split at the west end of the railyard, where the ground fell to an eight foot concrete wall that lined the rickety rails and abandoned freight cars. Dallas took the southern hemisphere of the Yard, while Alex had taken the north, and Dallas had since kept his senses alert for Infected activity. It was still, to the point where all Dallas could hear was his own breathing inside the night vision mask and the distant call of an owl, its hoots low and rhythmic like the babbles of a stream.

Dallas sacrificed his sure hold on the rifle to fish out his comm and hold it up to his mouth. "This is Lieutenant SH. There's no sign of Infected so far and I've scouted a quarter of the Yard already." Alex was one of Dallas' closest friend, and yet his tone in the comm was rigidly formal, like he were talking to a distant superior than a trusted compatriot.

Tag : Alexander Geoff

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