Path of the Vampire forum

He had been a hunter from a young age, when his father had taken him out with a bow and arrow, and showed him how to put down smaller game with the twang of a bowstring and the air whipping power of a loosed arrow. When he’d gotten older, it had been a rifle, and much bigger prey, like wild rams, bucks. These days? Well these days, Samson preferred to use his hands, because firearms were a good way of putting mental distance between hunter and hunted, but he believed that all life was inherently precious. This meant that he didn’t want that distance. He wanted to be in the face of the things he struck down, to be so close that there was true danger in the chase. If there was going to be blood on his hands, he wanted there to well and truly be blood staining his skin.

That was why he hollered. He was standing in an alleyway, and there were two other people there. If things continued, it was going to be two people in that alley and a corpse. But if Samson had his way, it was going to be two living, breathing humans and one pile of ashes. The vampire he had been tailing whirled around, dropping what looked like dinner onto the wet alley ground. Samson’s heart told him to call for some kind of pause to check her pulse and make sure she was okay. But the undead did not allow for those in his limited experience. So the moment the fanged guy was turned around, there was an axe flying through the air at full speed. The thing thunked right into a skull and Samson’s eyes widened. He dug a boot into a chest and yanked back, which threw the vampire towards a dead end brick wall and left the Paladin reeling back a step to find his footing.

If Lecovio’s accent brought to mind dense air pollution, then Samson’s was the clear and clean thinness of the low Appalachian mountains from which he had come. He spoke with the slowness of a drawl that came from the States to the south, in a way that made most people in any urban area stare at him blankly. “The ****?!” He asked. That was not the look he had been going for. He’d been aiming to cleave the vampire’s head in two. Of course, he was new enough to this paladin thing that he was very aware that he was essentially ‘winging it’. But how was a man supposed to learn his God given calling if he didn’t dip his fingers in the mud and grime to pan for the proverbial gold?

“No!” He said, thinking on his feet. “That’s an innocent.” He said as he motioned to the woman on the ground with one hand. She looked a little dazed, but no worse for the wear - though that was entirely beside the point. In his opposite (non-motioning) hand, he held his axe, ready to leap into combat if the situation called for it. ****. What had the Order of Steel said about this? Leaving a vampire bleeding and injured was bad for business because they were likely to go around attacking people to replenish themselves. That had been what they’d said right?

“She didn’t ask for this ****!” Actually he had no way of knowing that, but the whole ‘feeding in a dark alleyway’ thing felt like a dead give away. Lips twisted in a snarl above his beard, and his eyes widened. He had been about to tell the vampire to be on his way when he heard a familiar voice. Oh ****. He nearly dropped his axe as Sawyer approached. He had not been expecting back up but he certainly would not turn it down.

"You take care've her and I'll handle this one." He said, gaze narrowing, following the vampire's movements.

He could hear shouting in the distance. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, but that didn’t mean much, because he frankly was only familiar with a handful of people. That was, in part, because he was relatively new to town, and partially because he was a mountain man born and raised. He felt at home in the forest, and was none too pleased the moment his surroundings turned from lush and green life into cement, glass, and asphalt. All lifeless, hard things that lacked the ability of a simple flower to bring a man a moment’s joy.

But the loudness of it rang like an alarm bell in his ears. Was there another vampire close by who needed to be dealt with? Or was it a potential friend drawing closer?

Did he stay where he was and deal with the present threat or did he go looking for more trouble?

He was offered an out by the vampire, and he wasn’t sure how much he liked that. He certainly didn’t like the way the man said he had more than nine lives. And Samson. Samson had the one. It was a reminder that vampires, despite being unnatrual things had the upper hand. Would always have the upper hand. How many people had died at Longslade just doing their jobs? At the hands of guys like this?

His gaze narrowed and his nostrils flared.

The vampire looked a little dazed. Axe to the head would do that to you.

But his instinct was to let Lecovio go. He didn’t think vampires all needed to be culled. Just the dangerous ones.

So there it was. The problem. Stay or go? Let the vampire free and race to the scene of another crime...or stand his ground? He wasn’t too worried about the injured woman - Sawyer would take care of her.

“Prove it then. Give me your fangs and you can go. Don’t need em if you’re drinkin’ from a bag.” His free hand slid out expectantly, gaze steady.