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Worst Nightmare
Punchy's worst nightmare is to be trapped alone somewhere, somewhere he can't leave. Sometimes the nightmare is an abandoned prison, or a house with no door. But the worst is a cave-in.

I've been looking forward to this. Without hesitating, Punchy rolls his pack off his shoulders, plants the torch in the ground, and crouches in a low stance. He raises his hands defensively, and as his fingers curl like talons, heat shimmers around them. Punchy breathes deeply and dashes forward, l...

Punchy hesitantly receives the torch, swearing silently to himself before offering a small counsel: ”Mate, I have two objections to carrying this torch, and one big one, though I’ll continue to carry it if you insist. One. I’d like to get the drop on whatever killed the cattle. Two. I’ve got twelve ...

Then Hope paused and tilted her head, tossing her braided hair off her shoulder. “You hear that?” she asked. “Sounds like somethin’ has the cattle spooked on the western edge of the herd,” she said, turning and grabbing her hat. “We should check it out.” Punchy perks up at her call, and sets down w...

Just as Emmerich leaves earshot, a Cockney, baritone voice speaks: “Lad’s a right army-tom.” The voice belongs to Punchy, one of the recent hires from Denver. Punchy is seldom seen, but sometimes heard. Someone polite might call him direct, but he seems well-meaning somewhere under his prickly perso...

Montponch "Punchy" Dupui Veteran Male Human, Scrapper Background Punchy grew up in London's East End, and was apprenticed to his uncle, a tanner. In actuality, the man was not his uncle, or a tanner. The real business was extracting the most valuable organs of the various exotic and damni...