"So," Grant said as he and Trevor walked through the shadowed forest, "what will you do after this?"

"It's too early to think of that," Trevor replied, aiming his whip at one of the demonic owls that had been harrying them the entire way. The beast fell to the ground with an unnatural shriek, replaced immediately with another of its brethren. "Focus on surviving your next step."

"Nonsense. Without a future, why fight at all?" A thrown dagger caught the new owl in the chest and it fell as well.

"That others may have one."

"Everyone I would want a future for is already dead." Grant's voice turned sharp for a moment that passed as soon as it came. "So I must look forward to my own, yes? For all of of them as well."

"If my former jobs have taught me anything, there is a reward for work well done."

"A reward? Even better!"

"It's generally getting chased out of the village and having to sleep under a tree."

Grant gave Trevor a long look. "Didn't think you had a sense of humour."

Trevor laughed as he struck down the latest owl. The trees were starting to break up, heralding the end of the cursed forest, and the moonlight slowly overtook the flickering torches. Both the men breathed a bit easier to get out of the darkness.

"It is true, though," Trevor continued after a bit. "Those with our abilities don't fit within humanity. To them, we're the same as the monsters we hunt."

"'We'? Who's 'we'?" Grant muttered to himself. He was a pirate, not a vampire hunter, no matter what he was currently doing. Louder, he said, "Really? No grateful brewers with too much ale? No appreciative farmer's daughters? Nothing?"

"Weeeeell..." Trevor rubbed his chin as he stared through the thick mist they found themselves in. Faint lights up ahead indicated something was there, but it was impossible to tell what. "There have been some farmer's daughters."

"That's what I like!" Grant squinted at the lights and unerringly threw a dagger that hit with the familiar sound of steel on bone. Bone Dragons. They both crept forward, on the lookout for balls of flame. Grant's only concession to the danger was to slightly lower his voice. "A lovely lass and a good mug of ale at the end is almost enough to justify all this nonsense. Not to mention all the treasure we can carry."

"It's probably cursed," Trevor said, with amusement in his voice. "Vampires have better security than ordinary lords."

Grant waved off his concerns and sent another dagger at the Bone Dragon, crumbling it to dust. "So we'll take it to a priest. Gold will overcome many prejudices, let me tell you. We won't be sleeping under any trees at the end of this, I won't allow it."

"Oh don't worry, I won't let you sleep under a tree either." A raven with glowing red eyes fell to Trevor's whip and he gave Grant a lazy smile. "The tree is mine; you can have the rain."

Grant's only reply was to punch him in the side.