[indent]A warm breeze drifted lazily through the bar, finding entrance through the many cracks and holes in the walls. The rusted sheet metal nailed to the roof wiggled in the breeze, giving off a few eerie creaks, or perhaps that was the building itself. The whole place had that [i]could fall down at any moment[/i] vibe. But damn if Husky didn't sell some good dark brew, though how he made it was a secret people have no doubt been killed over. Luckily for Eli, he was no lawman. He was spared the grueling day to day drill of walking the walls, and the streets, and the buildings. The lucky few got to man the guns and every blue moon get to shoot something out of the sky.[/indent]

	[indent]The area around Refuge had been turned to rubble, with the long expanse of an overgrown park on three sides, one of which was the way into refuge, that left one side exposed to a street packed with flora, the tall buildings had been blown away long ago. The walls were clear for 200 yards of everything but the smallest of bushes, an a field of lively grass that always seemed to be swaying. Every couple of days a crew would go out to scorch the area beyond the walls. The patrols said it took hours for the grass to grow back, but it was the thicker stuff they worried about. The Saviors wanted to maintain a clear line of sight, and such a wide open space made many of the sneakier predators avoid the area all together. Occasionally something would wonder too close and the sentries sitting on their rickety, welded together machine gun emplacements would blast it away.[/indent] 

	[indent]That was probably the case now, as Eli was standing up to stretch his limbs a hail of gunfire could be heard from the wall nearby. Sometimes Eli envied the Saviors on the wall, a nice comfy seat, a pair of triggers, and a fat pay check, which was technically just survival goods and ammunition. Not the best paying jobs, but it was enough to live off of and never have to venture outside the walls, alone at least. An explosion rocked the walls of the bar, causing one of the legs of Eli's table to snap, smashing his mug against the ground. [b]”Oi!”[/b] The bartender started, a man the size of a lumber jack named Husky. With a disheveled beard and greasy fingers he heaved his mass around the other bar patrons, storming up next to Eli. [b]”You breaking shit Eli?”[/b][/indent]

[indent]Eli picked up his helmet from the floor, along with his pack, looking at man before him. [b]”Back off old man, I don't want to hurt you.”[/b] Husky quirked an eyebrow at him, before laughing and patting him on the back.[/indent]

	[indent][b]”I'll bill the saviors, go make sure they aren't blowing themselves up eh?”[/b] He man laughed, something akin to the rumble of a grizzly bear. Eli's response was to smile and wave as he walked out into the packed dirt avenue. Most people just bustled on like it was a normal day, and it pretty much was. A second explosion sounded, Eli could actually see the fiery column of earth spraying into the air, though he was only a handful of yards from the wall itself. He walked over to one of the stairwells to the top, a medieval style tower, but made out of shiny, glistening metal. The guard on post looked at Eli intently. Eli simply waved and walked right past him, into the doorway.[/indent]

	[indent]The top of the wall was technically the third story, the insides which were a mess of pipes, wiring, and ammo feed systems. A guardian stood watching the display of firepower with his arms crossed, his face pinched the way all commanding officer's seemed to be. He wore armor similar to the lower members except he had a red sash tied around each bicep, a closer inspection would reveal a pin on his breast of a large shield with “R.G.” engraved on it; Refuge Guardian. Eli walked up next to him, looking out across the grassy field. [b]“Lovely evening for a date, wouldn't you say?”[/b] Eli said nonchalantly.[/indent]

[b]”You forgot the flowers.”[/b] The guardian replied, not even bothering to look at Eli.

	[indent]This particular Guardian's name was Davi, a man originating from India, the man was only 28, meaning he had been born after the outbreak. How he came across the ocean was a story he had never bothered to tell Eli. Though he had shared the daring tale of the parallel scars running from the side of his neck to his hip. [b]”You know civilians aren't allowed on the walls, Eli.”[/b][/indent]

	[indent][b]”Awe, c'mon baby, I even brought you a present.”[/b] Eli teased, chuckling to himself. This got Davi's attention, meaning he simply raised an eyebrow, never taking his eyes off the field. Down below the grassy areas was littered with at least a dozen corpses. From the look of them, they looked like Darklings. A creature of blackened flesh, much like a wolf, but all skin, teeth, and talons. With their stubby, pig like snout, they were almost comical; in the trying to maim you kind of way. Darklings never got this close to the wall unless they were really hungry.[/indent]

[indent][b]”Here sweet cheeks, especial for you.”[/b] Eli took a small metal box from his pocket, presenting it to Davi as if it held the holy grail, which it very well may have for him. Inside there was a full cigar, in it's crusty, stale prime. Davi smiled widely, showing two teeth missing from the side of his mouth. [b]”I knew you wasn't like them other boys,”[/b] He said, laughing as he lit the cigar with a zippo he had fished from his pockets.[/indent]

[b]”I swear you're not helping the stereotype about you commanders,”[/b] Eli teased.

[b]”It's actually in the training, we're under orders to smoke cigars regularly, makes us look manly.”[/b] Davi shot back, exhaling a cloud of smoke and offering the cigar to Eli.

[b]”How big is the pack?”[/b] Eli asked, letting out his own puff of smoke. It was definitely stale.

[b]”Heat signatures show the park is saturated, I'm guessing a couple thousand. We haven't found the den, or the mother.”[/b] Davi turned to look at Eli, accepting the cigar from him and looking him seriously in the eye.

[b]”Awe, fuck Davi, don't say it.”[/b] Eli spoke, a grimace forming on his face.

[b]”Say what?”[/b] He asked, playing innocent.

[indent][b][i]”Oh Eli dearest, you know we'll pay you ever so handsomely, and you know we'll be ever so pleased to send a team of ducklings with you, they'll probably die but that's alright, we'll do our best to be chipper about it,”[/i][/b] Eli said, in the best Davi voice he could muster. The guardian opened his mouth to speak but Eli put a hand up.[/indent]

	[indent][b]“Triple the usual, and you pay for mercs, I'm not getting anymore of your volunteers killed,”[/b] Eli finished flatly. He could see the grimace on Davi's face, Eli was asking a steep price, but Darklings were incredibly deadly, and hard to deal with, eliminating a den was near impossible. A den so close to Refuge would mean trade routes would be impossible to travel without an army, which in turn would cause Refuge to slowly die. Unfortunately for Eli, he was one of the best around. He had heard of a few others who frequented the outside world and hadn't died yet. He wondered if the reward would out weigh the risk for those brave souls.[/indent]

[b]”Fine, don't take your time though, with this number of Darklings, there has to be a den. That's bad news Eli.”[/b]

[b]”Yea, I know.”[/b] He said, heading back towards the stairwell. 

[indent][b]”By the way, I'll be sending one of mine with you, no duckling, but a full fledged goose, I promise.”[/b] Davi said, stubbing out half of the cigar for later. Eli waved to him in response, opening the door to the stairwell, on his way to the underground, to a place called The Post. It was a short walk to the bunker, even through the crowded streets, Eli knew all the paths less traveled. He waved to a pair of soldiers standing by the stairwell as he passed by, joining the crowd of people heading down the large set of stairs.[/indent]

	[indent]Twenty minutes later he was standing inside The Post, a dirty little bar and grill, though it's main purpose was the board. The bar area consisted of a mismatched assortment of chairs and tables. The air smelled kind of like used grease and sweat. Grouping of people discussing particular notes were seated around tables, many of them holding reds or yellows. A cork board that spanned the entire length of one wall was covered in hanging notes and posters. If it paid, it was posted here. Everything from bounties, to missing chickens, and people looking for hands for hire, usually to go out on some mission beyond the wall. It was here that Eli hung it note, written in black ink on a vibrant red paper. Everything was color coated, Red meant the bounty on this particular note was high. Yellow intermediate, Green low paying, and white was something more akin of volunteer work, employment offers, and pleas for help from those who had nothing to spare. [/indent]

[center][i]”Expedition Hunt”[/i][/center]
[center][i]”Large numbers of Darklings have been reported in the Manhattan area, signifying a Den somewhere in the city. It's destruction has been fallen upon myself, per request of The Saviors. Payment will be in armory trade credit, split evenly from a writ of credit worth 18,000. Applicants will meet in the courtyard in front of the gate tomorrow morning, 8a.m. - Eli”[/i][/center]

	[indent]Eli sighed heavily. Not at the task before him, but perhaps in amusement. He was never short of finding work. He felt caged inside the walls, although safe, but it lacked adventure. No, the real adventure was outside, in the wild, the adrenaline and danger. He didn't fear death, it would come for him one day, but he was who he was. For now, he was content heading back to his little home on the fifth level from the top, a ramshackle little closet that cost him next to nothing, even though he made plenty.[/indent] 

[indent]His jack-of-all-trades skill set meant he was eligible for many contracts, Reds were his favorite. tomorrow would prove to have a large turn out, he knew from experience. Trading with the Saviors armory was a delicacy for normal citizens like Eli. At such a high price, even if he took eleven people each would be able to replace their own gear and have some left over. Though he had set aside 3,000 to cover his own needs, leaving the rest for the mercs to squabble over. His last thought as he closed his eyes was of that pretty little girl that worked the arsenal counter, he looked forward to seeing her again.[/indent]