<strong>October 20th, 2013<br/>The Tombs<br/>Saint Claude</strong><br/><br/>Saint Claude was something of a lone wolf within the Tombs. It was perhaps understandable, six months ago he was an assassin for hire. A killer of Superheroes. He'd put a bullet in your head for a price and if you were faster then a speeding bullet then he'd get creative. He always had been creative. His art teacher said so. Either way, he didn't encourage people reaching out to him. He had a knack for weapons so once he had joined up with survivors he had become something of a quartermaster of arms. Needed a rifle cleaned out? He could do that. Needed your sword sharped? He could do that. Course when you were light on your feet and an expert at getting in and out of a place without notice, you became handy at scavenging runs. So Saint Claude had made himself useful. Useful enough that the heroes didn't jump him and toss him in a cell at least. So he sat at a table in his own little corner, in own private spot. Making sure guns were good to go at a moment's notice. It was therapeutic. Some people liked yoga. The Saint had his thing.