The Black Walker, he wakes..... Breathing of fire and of brimstone, those he stalks they shake..... More than man, less than a god..... Not no devil, no angel...... But a demon of the cog.....

Thunder, Lightning, and Rain..... The storm is coming, carrying the riders to the plain.....

Riders of The Storm.....

Johnny Thunder, Lye-Ta'-Ning Vierra, and Felicity Reign..... The hunters to call on, when the world is in pain.....

Many a tale tends to be told of the days of lawmen and of bad men and of gunslingers weak and bold..... And of Indian Chiefs and of their squaws, of their untold sacrifices; as each tale unfolds......

Many a hero and outlaw, recognized by the badges and head dresses they wear, and by their kills with the timed luck of the slinger's quick-draw.....

Rare stories yet to be heard..... Those of supernatural hunters riding into unknown danger, to face evils dead, demonic, and cold.....



