zzambrosius_02

 EPILOG: Areté

Ambros dropped in on a ridge near the top of the South hills of Eugene, in his own Line. Trees lay fallen, broken, and some of them scorched or burned. He found an undamaged trunk that jutted out over the dropoff and climbed up. He used his commonwealth laptop as a telescope, holding it in front of him and surveying the damage.

Hardly a house remained unharmed. Whole neighborhoods were wasted, burned or smashed by the weapons brought to bear by the various sides. He shook his head in dismay.

Bright blue flags on tall poles indicated the presence of Commonwealth Guilds. Warrior Guilds guarded key spots and important intersections; ambassadors from Diplomacy Deme camped on the remains of City Hall, coordinating rescue and reconstruction efforts; Tech and Road Guilds worked with present and former City of Eugene workers to restore electric and sewer systems; Medical Guild were scattered around the city, treating wounds and isolating people with bites for anti-viral treatments.

There was a column of smoke rising from across the river. He zeroed in on that; it was what he’d come to check out. He sighed as he studied the tactical situation at the Riverside Mall.