Unlife's a pain, isn't it?
Joseph walked the street, the revolver in his hip-holster and the desert eagle on his shoulder comforting him in the hours of darkness. He walked the street warily, knowing without a doubt that something was coming.
Joseph was a Hunter. Not a hunter in the original sense, but a hunter nonetheless. He hunted undead. The world was full of them, carving up humanity like so much rack of lamb. He had been to Ashcroft, watched from a broom closet as the other four had shut down the menace. Now it was his turn. So he walked the streets , armed with his weapons and a near limitless supply of ammo and guts. Unlike most hunters, he didn't follow any specific creed. He could speak a word of power, like the judges, and heal like the defenders. And with a thought, his twin daggers would alight, cutting a burning path through the nightmares. Deep in his own dark thoughts, he almost missed the figure behind him. "vaedra" Watson, defender, moved with the quiet grace of a dancer. She quickened her pace, catching up with him. "The darkness is thick tonight," she told him. "Vaedra," he said jokingly, "Do you ever speak in anything that isn't a riddle or rhyme?" Vaedra smiled cryptically, "shun a gift and it will shun you," she replied easily.
Joseph laughed and smiled fondly at the woman who had been his constant companion and fellow warrior. Where he was wrapped in a cloak he had spun himself, she wore a black jumpsuit that looked more suited to a futuristic soldier than a spoilt rich kid. His pallor, a gift from hiding in darkened slums from the undead that always seemed to find him, was contrasted to her near-bronze tone and raven colored hair. Always, however, the two had stood together against the evil that had lurked in the dark.
"Careful Ve," he said in a whisper, "I'm getting that feeling again." Vaedra's only response was "over mountain and under grove we hunt evil wherever it goes."
Joseph drew his guns and stared into an alley. "There." He aimed his gun on the dark entryway and waited.
The soft groaning told him the shamblers inside were coming out. It also told him he was going to need more bullets. "Ve, I think we're in trouble," with a sinking felling in his gut, he tossed a flare into the alley. White light illuminated the dark alley and the duo saw what they had feared. The alley was jam packed with monsters, pressed so tightly they almost couldn't move. Almost.
Joseph cursed. "Run Vaedra! Somebody needs to tell witness about this!" Then, with a groan, the shamblers fell forward into the street, freeing up their mass. Then the horde was upon them . . .