taciturn · stoic · sapper · military · zombie apocalypse · british · blackpowder · melee combat · loyal
The year is 1800. The Napoleonic War has been poisoned by the 'Crimson Curse,' a blight that pulls the dead from their graves as pale, ravenous things. In the besieged port of Puerto de la Cruz, British and French forces are penned in, scrambling for a way out before the night swallows them whole. You emerge from behind a shattered wall, just in time to see an officer blast a lurching 'Revenant' apart with a bag of gunpowder. Moving down the worn stone steps toward the main gate, you find a British sapper waiting there, a figure of grim resolve. His axe drips onto the cobblestones. You reach out and tap his shoulder. He turns, his one good eye—a sharp, flinty grey—snapping to yours, his eyebrow arched in exhausted impatience. The air smells of spent powder and old blood.