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 Posted: Sat May 02, 2009 3:50 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 3:28 pm
The area of gridlock trembled once again as another hole emerged from the depths of the locust tunnels. The foul scent of the territory below was far to unbearable for anyone other than the locust themselves. For awhile now, the battle scarred area known as 'Gridlock' had been rather quiet, not peaceful, just toned down enough to be considered uneventful.
The hot sun beated down on the concrete rather harshly, and it made the few locust that had exited the hole to be quite uncomforatable. The supposed leader of the team giving hand gestures toward the others to position them. Among them was Grak, a competent warrior of the locust hordes whom new his place. His order was to hold position inside a high ground plaza, sheltered by a roof. Of course it would have made a perfect sniping point, but alas, Grak had no longshot. He held there, while his locust companions marched off somewhere completely different; hoping to find the tactical leverage they needed incase they had to fallback.
Now alone,in a quite secluded area, Grak grew increasingly bored of his duties. But he was intent on keeping on task. So for the first time in a good while, he neglected to keep watch and checked over his equipment. Three guns were laid out in front of him as he sat upon the firm floor. A boltok pistol, a shotgun, and the iron will of the theron guard, a torque bow. Now checking them over, and loading them with rounds, he began to hunger for the taste of blood.
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