[center][h3][color=lightblue]Alexander Whitmoore[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=lightblue]"Fine, I'll take the burden. Given the input so far, here's the plan."[/color]

Whitmoore finally spoke up, having simply observed and listened while the others chimed in and said their pieces. Questions of whether or not a group this size could take on the raiders, dissent in that they could, questioning as to a million different possible ways to take the situation on. Whitmoore gave himself a moment to compose himself, reminding himself of what his brothers and sisters taught him growing up back in the bunker on leadership. One leader, one vote. Advisement was all fine and well, but it was ultimately the leader, whether its a scribe or a paladin, who makes the call. And takes the fall, if the call is wrong. There was makings of a good plan here, a lot of ideas to digest, but end of the day, they were raider scum. They would gladly take them for a ride and not turn a single hostage loose as 'leverage' for future extortion, while keeping them barely alive and thoroughly abused. No, there would be no honest negotiation with them, but who said anything about honest negotiation.

[color=lightblue]"We have the manpower and resources to make this happen. While every one of these raiders have to be put down for the good of the area, she's right, the moment gunfire starts, they start executing, if for no other reason than spite. So, we don't give them the chance. We have a map giving us a rough layout, and as we get closer, we have our best sneak case the place ahead of us, find a good backdoor. Places like this never only have one door, and once that's determined, we split into two teams. The backdoor team takes the best sneak, and two supporting. Ideally those who can break and enter, and fight well enough to hold a line if things go south. They go in, find the hostages, get em out. If they can't, they hunker down and keep the raiders from getting trigger happy. The rest back up our best talker, who's going to sell the raider leader such a line of brahman shit that he won't even know it stinks. Keep him talking, keep him and his goons distracted until one of two things. A predesignated signal, or shooting starts. And then? Not a single raider gets out alive, and we push to clear the place as quickly as we can. Make sense?"[/color]

Whitmoore had, during his little laying out of a plan, walked up to where the map was, and gave it a once over while considering his own words. He wasn't a fan of giving orders or, hell, taking them either. That being said, someone had to do it, and he was prepared to take the fall if this didn't work. He could always move on, even if it meant being exiled for failure, the rest could simply lay the blame at his feet. Objectively, he had the least the lose in this situation. The woman had spoken truly, and while he wished they had time for fancy drugs and waiting, they didn't. The raiders would be expecting a group to come with the supplies, or to negotiate, or [i]something[/i]. Snow had been mentioned which, in better circumstances, would have brought a fond smile to his face.

[color=lightblue]"Long as we keep our bearings straight, the snow will help us actually. Because the raiders will be just as blind as we are, with some experience leading the way, we can get a good count of things before they ever realize we are there."[/color]