Atwood Montague (amontague) wrote,
Atwood Montague

The men of Flint's division have been sleeping in the rooms and side passages of what used to be a Muggle office building, and now that it looks like they'll be spending a significant amount of time in this cluster of buildings, they've gotten rather more organized. Attie spent all of Sunday rearranging the bedding arrangements and sorting out all the petty little disputes that come up when you stick thirty men cheek to elbow twenty four hours a day in a building built by the enemy. Flint has been in discussions with the other captains about what exactly they should be doing; Pritchard has been doing strange and noisy things in the cellar of the building.

At a little past three in the afternoon, Attie is sitting in what used to be the manager's office, trying to sort out a dispute over who has ownership rights to a nice sleeping spot by the window, when there's what sounds like a thunderclap out of clear-skies. When Attie looks out the window, he sees Graham and all the captains standing outside; Captain Flint is standing next to Pritchard, and he has his arm cocked to the side, as if he's just skipped a stone over the lake.

The shimmering gold shell over the Death Eater encampment is gone. All Atwood can see is the faint smudge of grey or two that shows the Death Eater wards are still in place.

When Flint comes back inside, the first thing he says to Attie is: "Allieds at dawn."

Attie grins back at him. "Well, finally."

The Death Eaters hit the Allied camp about ten minutes or so after the dawn starts to come up. They've spent the night doing a few weak reconaissance spells, trying to get the feel of the area since the Allied wards left them more or less completely blind and cut off from everything outside of its bounds, and this attack is just a light raid to test the commitment doesn't remember too much about the engagement. It's just a light raid to feel out the strength of the Allied commitment to the Docklands, and the Death Eaters pull back as soon as they meet stiff resistance.

Most of the Allied camp is sleeping: they knew that the Allied wards had gone down, but they assumed that the Death Eaters would use the chance to get as many men as they could out of the Docklands.

Marcus Flint believes in winning, though, and so does Atwood. The Death Eaters have taken too much humiliation in the past week to ignore the chance to dish some out in return, and while don't cause many casualties, but they do manage to lob a few lighting bolts through the weakened Allied wards and destroy a good amount of real estate, as well as slip a few automated bugs through the wards to scout out Allied strength in the Docklands.

As Attie lobs a last Articulo through the wards before retreating as the sun comes up fully, he notices a vaguely familiar face about fifteen or twenty paces away. Strong-features, a robe that's starting to look blue-colored in the strengthening light, and vividly red-colored lips; she takes her wand out, and Attie does a short-distance Apparate three-feet to his right just in time to miss an Incendio that is weakened because it has to pass through the Allied wards but nevertheless manages to leave a nice scorch-mark in the dirt.
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