The errie atmosphere that surrounded the grave yard resembled that of a horror novel. The air was cold and shifted like a rouge wrapping their hands around his heart. As the man in question approuched the quest location he took note of several sounds of crushing bone and metal echoing from just beyond his field of vision. Armed and ready to get his job over-with, the large a built man approuched the gates some time after the first visitor.

Dem-o-Nix would through the rusted gate open to see aftermath of a stranger's assault aginst the zombies. One with a punctured skull and the other without it's skull at all. The visceral image caused the dark-skinned man to raise an eye brow in distaste. The fact a game made such monsters so gruesome made Dem-o-Nix question the designers' intentions. Were they meant to simulate or disturb? Either way they succeeded.

Not too far was another person, the culprit responsible for dispatching the zombies. By their appearance alone he wasn't able to determine their gender or even general body shape. Their gear kept many important features hidden. Dem-O-Nix wasn't one to normally care about a person's identity and he wasn't going to start today. He was here to complete a job and he'd get it done. Hopefully this stranger would give him a hand. "I hope you're here to clear out these monsters instead of taking their place. Don't think I'd want to fight someone who resembles Old-School horror films."

As more zombies approached due to Dem-o-Nix's appearance, the defender would in take up his greatsword and point the tip of the blade towards the small gathering approaching. Once they entered range, a pair of black and white crosses appeared over his chest and face. This would cause the monsters to be fixated on the defender. "Sometimes I hate mechanics." He'd mutter to the stranger.

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Dem-o-Nix was greatly put off by the stranger's attitude towards his prescience. There was a weird way she turned to look at him. Cold and slow like one of the fathers of terror Jason. They looked liked a sibling of Jason! It would be a work of the divine gods to not be killed by them after this quest.

Without any kind of communication they accepted the party request. All they did was release a hum before engaging in attacks. Creepy as this person might be Dem-o-Nix would try to treat their silence and 'passion' for cutting these monsters down as professionalism. If not than he would have no choice but to view them as possibly crazy.

Or a really dedicated role player.

With Double Cross activated and in full-swing, Dem-o-Nix followed Thirteen's lead and kept himself between zombies seeking to flank the Slasher. Due to his passive, there will always be a maximum of five monsters on him. Each time he would be swiped or hit by a zombie, damage would be redirected to the creatures.

Dem-o-Nix slashed and stabbed as many zombies as he could. The majority of the undead would require three to four strikes from his sword in order to fall. However time was on his side; his defense and health were far beyond that of the mobs. And possibly most players. "So I am Dem-o-Nix. And you?"

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Yeah, this person was definitely dedicated to the cause alright. Not stopping her routine for even a second to reply. The sounds she made were almost similar to the Shamblers. Only thing keeping Dem-o-Nix from thinking this person was a mob themselves, was the fact they were at least responding to some extent. Not exactly a talker but it wasn't important. Talking only made the jobs go by faster. For the time being nothing had to be said as they fought the creatures.

With his concentration on the undead, Dem-o-Nix was oblivious to Thirteen's attack from behind. Once the creatures were stunned, some even retreating, he took the chance to cut them down with great effort. The effective being the culling of the Shambler numbers. With a moment to breath Dem-o-Nix would allow himself to be distracted by the sounds behind him. With a slightly confused expression the man cocked his head and read the numbers off of the headstone. "Thirteen? That your name huh? Well it isn't so bad. Good to know you aren't beyond introductions!" A subtle nod was sent their way before the zombies started up again.

Dem-o-Nix was on his way to easing up around Thirteen. However after witnessing the destruction of a zombie with nothing but an old meat-hook, the worry came right back. At least Dem-o-Nix knows not to every try and fight her. With her, Thirteen could probably pull out a chainsaw on his ass. Just for looking at her mask funny maybe.

A zombie, unannounced to Dem-o-Nix, managed to reach him. The monster clawed his armor in an attempt to harm him. However due to it's failing state, a concussive force was able to down the walker. The same scene played out as Dem-o-Nix started to find himself attracting a large number of the undead. A huff later the man started to skip to the side as the gathering numbers followed him. He baited and called for the monsters to follow. Glancing to Thirteen, Dem-o-Nix motion one of his hands around in a circle. "I'll kite them around for a while. You start looking for the cause. Magic or demons or whatever. Sound like a plan, or do you want to Ash verse the Evil Dead this some more?"


thirteen  3/12

At least Thirteen was receptive of the plan. This gave Dem-o-Nix some hope for the odd attacker. He finished watching her walking away before diverting his attention to the hoard slowly surrounding him. A line behind him started to transform into a sea, a literal wall of undead corpses rushing towards the defender as if he were covered in blood. Or if his soul was there own way into salvation. 

His speed stat was not very good however he was able to dodge the majority of the creatures by jumping over a deep, open grave. This leap landed him beside a freshly dug hole, it's occupant only recently placed in the hole. A wave of the undead tripped into the hole like a flood through irrigation tunnels. This allowed Dem-o-Nix to take  moment to catch his bearings. With Thirteen on her marry way it would be hard to act as her tank. Though this was obvious when he decided to split the party. But with him taunting and aggravating the zombies, she should be fine for the most part. 

There was no doubt if any trouble was to arise, she'd notify him if Dem-o-Nix wasn't already aware of it. The image of a purple wisp fluttering off caught Dem-o-Nix's eyes. In a way the haunting glow was beautiful. It shined like the fainting life it was; it was the exact image Jacob imaged a soul looked like. Ethereal and beautiful.

Dem-o-Nix was only released from the trance when the Shamblers started throwing themselves against him. With the hole now filled, the last few walkers to join the wall of flesh managed to cross. They ran over the bodies of their peers, a natural course of action for mindless monsters to take. Dem-o-Nix was caught off and tripped, almost falling into the larger grave behind him. With a grunt the player called forth a white light that cloaked his body. [Light-Mail] became active and with it, the incoming damage became manageable. "Thirteen better hurry up. Fifteen minutes of playing babysitting at the most."


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