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The Great Cemetery lies at the very center of Wormwood itself. Thousands upon thousands of graves and crypts as far as the eye can see encircle the Mortis Root. The Mortis Root, an enormous dead tree standing over 50 feet tall and measuring over 100 feet wide, is said to support the very existence of Wormwood. It gains its nutrients by absorbing the essences of the deceased lying at its base. If the Mortis Root were ever to be destroyed, the consequences could be disastrous for the realm of Wormwood.

Django watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon off in the distance. Yes...even Wormwood had a sun. But it was different here. Back home, the sun's light was clear and vibrant; always illuminating everything in a brilliant white glow. But in Wormwood, the sun gave off a sickly melancholic energy. It was as if it was always behind a dark foreboding cloud, even on the clearest of days.

The sun alone could make a man sick to his stomach in this world, but those who had been in Wormwood for long had grown accustomed to it. The Great Cemetery, on the other hand, took a lot of getting used to.

It had been said before that inhabitants of Wormwood don't always see things the same way. They say that some can find beauty in almost anything, no matter how ugly it may be, even in the Great Cemetery. But Django didn't have that ability apparently. Because all that he ever saw, smelled, and heard here...was death.

Death and decay as far as the eye could see; it was all Django knew. Even the Mortis Root, which was supposed to support life, looked dead to him. A giant decomposing stump; its jagged branches jutting out in every which direction...what little leaves it did have black and wilted. Sometimes he wished that he had the ability to see things differently, to find beauty in such an ugly world...but he had given up trying that a long time ago.

Django suddenly stood up from the stone monument which served as his spot of rest, abandoning his musings and focusing again on reality. The sun had now sunken far below the jagged mountain tops, and soon another long, lonely, dangerous Wormwood night would set in.

Visually scanning the desolate cemetery, Django was surprised to see the slight movement of a lone figure a few hundred yards off in the distance. Many people would come during the day to pay their respects to loved ones, but most knew better than to stay in the cemetery after dark. Making his way in its direction, he squinted his white, emotionless eyes in the dwindling light to discover that the figure was a relatively young looking female.

Django continued to approach the girl until he was standing directly behind her. She seemed quite calm and not very startled of his presence, and her composure was confirmed when she turned and gave a polite "Can I help you?"

Django did his best to hold back a chuckle, and instead gave a disbelieving grin. She didn't look quite like a hunter, but it wasn't completely impossible he supposed. he responded in a rather neutral tone.

"I'm probably the one who should be asking you that. I'm the caretaker here, and I'd be fixin' to leave pretty soon if I were you. This place can get a little dangerous after dark."

Zak walked up the two, hunters of obvious skill though younger then he. Zak decided to go down and meet the duo. Zak figured if he was going to increase his power in the wormwood he whould start with his own kin. Zak jumped down in a float like way then he landed to the left of the couple. Zak took his hat off and brushed off a leaf that had fell upon it as he jumped down. He smiled in his normal manner and decided he should introduce himself.

Zak began by walking toward them, he bowed down trying to show the respect which he did not even really have. He then began with his name "I am Zak Zel'urtha, oldest hunter of the wormwood. I am here to introduce myself to two people with obvious skill and virtue." He said it as impressed as he could though in reality he was just making up random words that would flatter them he knew.

He received no answer at first so he then began again, "Ahh, I'll introduce myself in a much better manner. I am known as the vampiric hunter of the north region. I am here to take a human that is to be trialed. I am to give him my own test of guile to him so I must find the human. Can you direct me to the southern harvest group?"

Zak merely said "Thanks, and if you don't put down your revolver you may find yourself without a hand." Zak let the threat hang in the air then headed that way. In truth he really was not threatned by such a weapon, for it was not very hard to dodge one due to his abilites. This man was obviously very cautious, as was himself he figured.

Zak really could care less what the man was saying other then the fate tower. Zak began walked away then he said as a lasting thing "Oh, on another not I'm sure we meet again and probably more to suit my own duties then your own. Also you should truly not think that pathetic weapon could kill a hunter. A rather idoitic thought if you ask me." With that Zak dissapeared into the night, without a sound or even a track in the mud to show he had been there. Nothing but the memory of the two he had met.

Django just chuckled at the hunter’s cocky remarks. He was certainly sure of himself for someone who needed directions to where the humans were harvested each year. Django had seen his type hundreds of times, both in the mortal world and in Wormwood. And most of those individuals currently resided 6 feet under.

Letting the man go, Django turned his attention back to Charlotte. She still seemed as carefree as ever, but perhaps a little more nervous after getting a glimpse of the Great Cemetery under the veil of night. A thick fog had recently began to permeate throughout the graveyard, and if he was to lead her back to the gate without becoming lost, he’d need some sort of guiding light.

“As I was saying, I’d be happy to lead you back to the entrance. But it’s a ways off. You seem to have covered a lot a’ ground. And with this fog, I’ll be needin' my lantern. My cabin's not too far from here.”

Django motioned for Charlotte to follow him as he turned and headed in a slow and cautious pace in the direction of his living quarters. He noticed that his right hand was instinctively clutching the stout grip of his revolver. For all the years he had been living in the great cemetery, he felt more nervous than usual. There was an eerie foreboding in the air tonight, and Django hoped it was not a foreshadowing of things to come.

Django trudged through the darkness of the cemetery, struggling to find his way to the entrance with what little light his lantern was providing. Charlotte followed close behind him. She had not said much of anything on their trip back to his cabin, and she still remained silent even now. She was a strange girl, this Charlotte. But Django felt an inexplicable calm around her. Perhaps she reminded him of someone he knew back in the mortal world. A long lost memory locked away in the depths of his subconscious. Whatever the case, he felt compelled to help her.

Django stopped again to observe his position. The fog had gotten even worse, and getting out of the cemetery tonight may prove a chore even for him after all his years living here. It was seldom that nights would become as inhospitable as this night. For some reason the creatures had not been as restless though. Of course, he had been forced to waste a few shambling abominations along the way. But they were usually pretty ravenous.

Perhaps I spoke to soon…

Django froze in his tracks and clutched the stout grip of his revolver. It was vibrating…trembling. It was the Sin Eater. The small cylindrical creature was trembling in fear. That only meant one thing…Vampire. The Sin Eater was useless against a Vampire. They had made sure of that when he became a hunter. But there was definitely one nearby…stalking them.

Django clenched his gloved, left hand into a fist. If it came to it tonight, he would be forced to use his other power the vampires had given him. He cringed at the thought. He did not want Charlotte to witness such a hideous ability. But it might be necessary for their survival.

“Stay close…”

Whispering over his shoulder to Charlotte, Django kept moving. If they were being stalked, standing idly in one position would only make things easier for the one doing the stalking. But now he was aware, and he was ready.

Leanaan hissed silently to himself as he noticed the slight change in the male hunter's posture. The thick, creeping fog had done well to hide his form and presence, its sinewy whisps reaching out to wrap around the tombstones and roots on the ground, hiding footprints and hindering the human's week sight. But it seemed that the fear that those weakling creatures, who wisely had stay away from his pray had in fact given him away. That or some power of this hunter. Whose was he? Leanaan wondered watching, it was rare that he had been noticed.

Looking only momentarily at his primary target he looked back to the male hunter, this man must have been a hunter for quite some time now. Staying back and not giving himself away he waited, this hunter would have to do something soon now or take the chance that he could possibly die. And when he did act, leanaan would finally figure out how powerful he finally was and possibly what powers he possessed, if he proved worthy, maybe, maybe the hunter might even be useful as a hunter for him.

Keeping himself within the covering fog and dark shadows, Leanaan sent out a slight probe to look at the man's thoughts, wanting to figure out now how this mere human had somehow sensed his presence, it was just something he now had to know. Expecting barriers though he prepared himself, even within the mind human's could be dangerous, it all depended though, on their skills and their expierience if these two were new fledgling hunters, well then possibly all the better, he needed a new hunter and still, he was very hungry.