An issue in Gaular

It was pitch black in the middle of the night. The gate guard hadn’t seen anything peculiar, so he figured it would be another uneventful night in a myriad of uneventful nights… that is until he heard the *clack* of a pair of shoes approaching on the stone road. “At this hour?” he thought to himself. He *peered* into the darkness and saw a lone figure slowly walking towards the gate with his hands behind his back. As he got closer, he made out more of his features. He was impeccably dressed with a long red velvet coat, a black and red undershirt with a matching vest. He wore circular sunglasses with dark red-tinted lenses. His hair was dark blond, and his skin looked oddly pale. Perhaps it was just the trickery of the moonlight, but his teeth seemed to be shining. He *approached* silently, and the guard said, “Halt, state your name!” The man *strolled* up to him; his blood-red eyes seemed to glow in the darkness. “Arthur Pentecost, my good man. I’m simply here to visit.” “Do you have any identification?” the guard asked. “Of course, sir. Allow me.” Pentecost *swiped* his hand, and a black mist briefly shrouded it. The guard let him in, no questions asked. In fact, he *apologized* for holding Mr. Pentecost up. Arthur *strolled* past the gate guard and muttered under his breath, “Now, dearest mother, why are you so interested in the city of Gaular…?"

Citizens would only ever see this individual at night, wearing that red coat with dark red sunglasses. Even though it would usually be around midnight, it was strange. Whenever someone interacted with him, he would simply introduce himself as Arthur, and everyone just so happened to forget the rest. Although one detail remained: bright red eyes, always bright red eyes. No matter what time or when they would see him, his crimson-colored eyes would be the only thing they remembered besides his name. Something more supernatural is going on here. Although one witness did report something suspicious when walking in front of his estate on their way back home. They *heard* the sound of something, or possibly someone being dragged behind his estate. Something supernatural is definitely happening, and it might not be good.

The gate guard *runs* to the door of Viktor's house and *knocks* in a panic. “Mister Viktor, please come out. We require your assistance!” But walking to the door, dressed now in a white shirt with a black necktie is Hecate, her hypnotic yellow eyes *staring* deep into his. “Oh, um… where is Viktor? Do you know? We require his help with…” The girl simply *says*, “Stop,” and mid-sentence the guard *freezes* and turns away, feeling compelled that he could handle the situation. He didn’t need help from Viktor; he should go elsewhere. Be careful; it’s a common practice in that family to disguise your true self…

Arthur's plans were going well. He is infiltrating high society rather *smoothly*. Another week passed without any issues until a vampire agent *rushes* into his office. Arthur *perks* up, expecting good news, but he is given horrible news instead. “Sire, they’re back! Both of them dealt with the elder and his assassins!” Arthur's eyes *widened*, and he *looked* out the window to see two people walking in through the front gates of Gaular: a well-dressed man with a golden pin on his chest and a muscular man with a scar on his lip. Viktor and Riegan are back.

Viktor lay there *slumped* against a tree with blood dripping from his chest. Those vampires got him good; he was too tough for them to kill him, but they were able to injure him quite seriously. He *winced* and *clutched* his chest. Viktor wasn’t one to complain, so all he did was sit there in silence, trying to stop the bleeding. That is until he *heard* what sounded like footsteps. His eyes *darted* over to where he heard the noise, still alert from the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body. He saw a person with short hair and a strange black mark over their eye. He *stared* in confusion for a moment before they *noticed* him. Despite their seemingly youthful appearance, they had a singular streak of grey hair running through the middle of their head. Viktor *tried* to spatter out words, but the blood had gotten to his lungs, his vision began to fade, his knees *weakening*. With a heavy thud, he *collapsed* to the ground, and just before his sight turned to black, he saw that it wasn’t a normal person, that *entity* walking towards him.

His eyes *snapped* open and *darted* around, still dazed. He *sat* there wondering how long he had been out until he *heard* a soft voice call out to him. “Hm, barely took you any time; you recover quite quickly, Mr. Lozharo.” His eyes *shot* over to where he heard the voice, and again there was that, he had no clue at this point, but the black marks on their skin had spread to different places. Viktor *spoke* clearly, his injuries having healed from his extreme durability. “…And you are…?” They *looked* surprised. “So your mother never mentioned me? That’s a shame. I suppose you were too young when she passed away.” Viktor was even more confused. They claim to be older than him when they don’t even look a day over 20. “Well… why don’t you tell me now?” Viktor *asked*. They simply *smiled* back and said, “Uriel, Uriel Tempest.” Viktor *furrowed* his eyebrows in confusion. “And… I’m supposed to know you?” “Who do you think it was that kept those old bastards from throwing you out for that long?” Viktor’s eyes *widened* in realization; they had been the one to halt his execution when he was younger? How old were they? Viktor *asked* hesitantly. “…You were there in my childhood?” They *responded* plainly. “Oh, I’ve been around much longer before your childhood, dear. If I remember correctly, I am… 3000 years old, yes, that’s it.” Viktor was really surprised now. How did they even find him? They *got* up and gave him a *pat* on the head. “Now you rest and recover; trust me, dear, nobody will find you here.” Viktor couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, so he *did* all he could, and that was wait.

Viktor *sat* there, unmoving as Uriel simply *milled* about, not really doing much. He was actually about to fall back asleep until he *heard* a familiar hissing sound; those vampires, the ones who tried to kill him, they were back. *Springing* to his feet, he saw the three of them, weapons and claws brandished. He *readied* himself for a fight until Uriel *placed* a hand on his shoulder. “You sit back down, dear; I’ll deal with them.” Viktor *looked* hesitant, but based on the look in her eyes, she seemed serious. He *sat* back down, and what happened is surely going to stick with him for a while. With a wave of their hand, Uriel *tore* the three Camarilla agents to shreds. They didn’t even have to touch them. Viktor’s eyes *went* wide, but he quickly composed himself. Clearly, there was more to this mysterious being who claimed to know him. He just didn’t know it yet. He *sat* there tapping his finger on the ground impatiently until Uriel finally *said* something. “Done resting, dear?” Viktor *nodded* silently, and before he could speak, Uriel *cut* him off. “Yes, yes, you want to get back to your family; I know.” Viktor *froze*; Uriel just read exactly what he was thinking, and before he could react, Uriel *waved* and said, “Goodbye for now, Mister Lozharo,” and *snapped* their fingers. Viktor was back at Gaular’s gates. Again, he quickly composed himself and *walked* inside. Would he ever see Uriel again? Maybe… maybe not. That one was curious and unpredictable, but for now, he just had to keep going forward, like he always does.

He *sat* down, *staring* at the shining cup of tea in his hands. He *saw* that his face was starting to wrinkle; he was getting older. While he may only be in his early forties, he knew as he *stared* down at his reflection in the tea, he didn’t have much time left. Just as Viktor was about to get lost in the reflection, he *could* hear a commotion from the downstairs living room. At first, it *sounded* like talking but quickly transitioned to shouting. *Wary* of a possible threat, he *motioned* for Hecate to follow behind him — that way he could protect her. Upon going downstairs, he found his long-lost friend in what seemed to be an argument with his wife and immediately *dropped* his guard, *motioning* that Hecate should go say hello. She was clearly terrified though, so he gave her a little push, finally convincing her that the large rocky man may not be her enemy. After a quick conversation with Vert, he *put* Hecate - who now found the soft moss of this mysterious man to be the softest thing she'd ever felt - to sleep.

Viktor walked out of Gaular, striding with purpose after saying his goodbyes, and as he left the confines of the walls, only a select few knew… nobody would see him again, he was old, uneeded, but he knew one thing he had to do before his death… the watcher had a vessel… and he was going to change that.

But before he leaves he felt a rough hand grip his shoulder, Viktor turned around and… saw his friend Riegan, he looked just as tired as he was, Riegan spoke softly “I know that look in your eyes Vik, what are you doing” Viktor looked down a little ashamed and said “I need to stop him Riegan, for good this time, I know this might kill me and I’ve come to terms with that, so… please don’t try to stop me” Riegan sighed still with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he shook his head and looked back up at Viktor “Then I’m coming with you” Viktor’s eyes widened “my Judicators sword is the best bet you have… let me come with you” Viktor hesitated for a moment, as he knew if he agreed he would be putting Riegan in serious danger… but he was right, Riegan was the best bet he had, so he said yes, Riegan pulled out another cigarette and gestures for Viktor to take it and he does, Riegan lights it for him and the two friends walk off… Riegan speaks up “I’ve met the ones you raised… they’re  good kids… they can handle themselves I know it…” Riegan joined Viktor… and was never seen again.

Viktor and Riegan walked down the dusty road in silence, they knew what was coming and there was no lightheartedness in the air… Viktor heard footsteps and without a second thought whipped around with a weapon in hand, Riegan did the same but there wasn’t an enemy standing there… but Viktor’s student… Kotelus Castellan stood there Viktor backed off immediately and asked “what exactly are you doing here…” Kotelus responded with “saw you leave early, figured I’d might as well join you if it was important” Viktor might have let Riegan help him fight but Kotelus was where he would draw the line, he’s not endangering his own student “no, you are not to accompany us” Kotelus responded quickly with “but-“ Viktor cut him off “no, I’m not putting you in danger” Kotelus looked down “Can I at least come” Viktor hesitated slightly but caved saying “you run if I tell you, got it?” Kotelus nodded and followed behind Viktor and Riegan… he would be the only one to come back unscathed.

After days travel they finally arrived… the watchers shrine, a large temple dedicated to the god, Viktor and Riegan stormed in, insisting Kotelu stays behind. The two made their way to a grand courtyard, and saw him… four arms… six eyes… the watcher stared down at the two and said in an almost mocking tone “mortals, and one without magic, if you wish to die I should at least know your names” Viktor’s words sounded more like a snarl “Viktor” Riegan fixed his tie “Riegan” The watcher smiled and said “you may be foolish but I cannot deny your bravery, you may know my true name… Nikolai, I was human like you once, isn’t that interesting?” Viktor stared up at him on his throne and said with a look in his eyes Riegan had never seen before “As if I care, human, god, You all die the same to me” Nikolai smiled and for a moment felt a surge of confidence… before he made direct eye contact with Viktor, he felt a sensation he had long forgotten even if for just a moment he felt… his life being in genuine danger.

(Content warning for violence and gore until the next bracket)

Viktor started to walk towards Nikolai, no great speech, Viktor was a simple man and even in the most dire situations little can change that, so he started to walk towards Nikolai, as he did that Nikolai activated his magic causing a small cut to appear on Viktor’s cheek, and another… and another, Riegan watched with wide eyes as Viktor looked to get sliced to ribbons in front of his eyes… but it would take much more than that, Viktor’s wounds looked to have already scarred and the bleeding stopped within seconds, he crouched down and in a blink of an eye his fist ripped into Nikolai’s jaw sending him careening through the back walls of the temple, following up was Riegan who increased the size of his gavel and slammed downward into Nikolai, Viktor attempted to finish him off quickly but saw a faint glow underneath the crumbled stone and timber… he leaned back as far as he could while Riegan took cover, a large blast of fire tore upwards nearly missing Viktor almost incinerating him instantly, Nikolai tore his way out of the rubble and looked Viktor and Riegan in the eyes, this fight is only just beginning.

Viktor, now drenched in his own blood runs at Nikolai, ramming his shoulder into the gods chest knocking the wind out of him, he grabbed Nikolai and tossed him towards Riegan… where Riegans spirit, justice appeared behind him, Riegan looked Nikolai dead in the eyes and uttered an incantation, Nikolai froze up and in Riegans hand slowly light began to crackle and take shape, an image of a scale was burnt into his palm as in Riegans grasp appeared the one thing that could kill a god in a singular strike… the sword of Judication, Nikolai started to sweat for the first time in a century.

Riegan wound up and took a swing at Nikolai, who leaned back barely enough for it to miss him, Riegan began to initiate close quarters with Nikolai, dancing in between his strikes and throwing whichever he could, but eventually he was overwhelmed and struck in the chest, sending him tumbling back slamming into a wall, Nikolai turned to Viktor, he barely even looked human, his body was drenched in his own blood, his eyes empty and his lips slightly parted in a trance, he seems to have reverted to an almost animalistic instinct, a base urge programmed into his mind, his thoughts rang with a single word “kill, kill, kill” In a flash he drop kicks Nikolai in the chest and follows up with hand to hand of his own, Viktor was actually able to, unlike Riegan, keep up with the god, trading blows left and right yet no matter how hard Viktor was struck nothing seemed to even make him flinch, Nikolai had a smile of pure ecstasy as he said “Viktor Von Lozharo, truly you are entertaining”.

Viktor felt a sharp pain on his cheek as Nikolai’s clawed fist ripped into his face, he was sent flying all the way back to the entrance of the temple, landing next to Kotelu and snapping out of his trance when he saw the incredibly concerned look on his face, he pointed to Viktor’s cheek and said “Teacher… what… what happened” Viktor hesitantly touched his cheek, and felt bone and teeth, a large piece his cheek had been torn off revealing the teeth underneath it, his eyes widened slightly, and already covered in his own blood he pointed a finger at Kotelu and uttered two words “back away” remembering what Viktor told him Kotelu took of as fast as he could not wanting to be caught in this battle of tectonic proportions, of man vs god, Viktor lunged back to where Nikolai stood with blinding speed and wound up landing a solid kick against his jaw into a chest punch from Riegan who was orienting himself still recovering from the blow he received earlier, Nikolai stared in the empty eyes of Viktor and said still with that smile on his face “it seems like we both have plenty left in the tank”.

Viktor could feel the impact before he noticed what was happening, the punch would’ve torn a hole through the average person. But Viktor Von Lozharo is no average man, he reflexively braced his chest as Nikolai’s clawed fist made contact, and he felt himself rise… and rise… and rise until he burst out of the top of the temple… as Nikolai leapt to pursue him Viktor started to feel something… a sensation he’d nearly forgotten from the years of combat without a proper foe… Viktor felt the intense feeling… of overwhelming satisfaction Viktor cracked a sadistic smile as he felt his heart race, his adrenaline increasing, Viktor finally felt the exhilaration of a real fight. *Viktor slammed his palm into Nikolai’s chin as he rose up to meet Viktor, the two danced in the air each with smiles plastered across their faces, eventually Viktor managed to get the upper hand, grabbing Nikolai by the arm and tossing him back down, and as he did he let out a laugh, an almost sickening laugh but this was the most fun Viktor had in ages, He pursued Nikolai back down to the ground and looked back up at him, his bright blue eyes shining in the setting sun, he spattered out the words “my student is watching, so I guess I gotta show off a little more” he gestured to Kotelu who had backed away to a safe distance yet still saw the bloody spectacle the man and god performed, Nikolai looked at Viktor and knew, this was where he was to die, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

As the two once again clashed in a flurry of blows Viktor’s right shoulder was punctured as Nikolai’s claws dug into his skin, rather than seeing this as a failure Viktor saw this as an opportunity, he slammed his forehead into Nikolai’s nose as he was unable to move due to his claws being stuck in Viktor’s body, but as he tore them out and dodged backwards he knew if he was going to die so way Viktor. From Viktor’s perspective he saw Nikolai swipe his hand… and then silence… then pain, stinging nigh unbearable pain from his right arm, Viktor grit his teeth and looked down… everything from his right elbow down had been severed, his eyes widened and a sickening smile appeared on Nikolai’s face, but what he didn’t expect was Riegan to appear behind his friend and hand him his tie, Viktor thinking quickly tied the tie around what was left of his arm to stem the bleeding and Riegan dashed towards Nikolai to keep him busy, and while any sane person would flee, Viktor Von Lozharo simply picked up speed, faster and faster, until Nikolai, a god, couldn’t even tell where he is, he chuckled to himself and thought “I’ve never seen talent like this since I was a boy, Viktor Von Lozharo I have to say, you are truly a monster”

Viktor had to resort to using his legs, throwing precise kicks towards Nikolai who did his best to dodge them, Nikolai knew he had to finish this and to do so he had to split up, Viktor couldn’t guard properly due to his missing arm so Nikolai was able to slip past and land a devestating blow to Viktor’s chest sending him tumbling back, Nikolai was sure he killed him. Riegan swung with everything he had to try and hit Nikolai taking severe damage in the process due to Nikolai’s technique, He fell to one knee and expected to be killed then and there, but Nikolai waited, saying “I shouldn’t waste your talent, go on, heal, give me everything you’ve got “Riegan backed away and his wounds began to close up, Nikolai let him heal before lunging at him yet again, Riegan looked up at the setting sun casting a silhouette on Nikolai… until he noticed a second silhouette behind him, Viktor Von Lozharo, Nikolai saw him, barely alive surely with multiple shattered bones and shouted at the top of his lungs “CAN HELL NOT HOLD YOU VIKTOR VON LOZHARO” Viktor simply responded with a bleeding smile as he finally got what he wanted, a challenge that’s the only reason he got back up, he wanted this fight to continue, so he could die because someone was stronger than him, not from old age or disease, he could die feeling the thrill, the delicate dance between life and death, he could die because he lost this is exactly what he wanted.

Taking his chance Riegan leapt in and took a swing at Nikolai, again and again both Viktor and Riegan attempted to kill the god until Viktor was batted away with the back of Nikolai’s palm, he regained control and started sprinting back to the fight as Riegan took another swing and… he hit! But as he looked at Nikolai’s hand… he realized Nikolai had cut off his own hand, seconds before the blades impact, Riegans heart sank, he looked up at Nikolai and over at Viktor, he thought to himself “…I shouldn’t try to apologize, he might just take it as guilt… I’m sorry Viktor… I trust you” and with a bleeding smile he tossed the Judicators sword to Viktor and uttered his final words “You’ve got the rest” and with a swipe of Nikolai’s hand Riegan fell to his knees a large gash tearing his suit in half… Gascoigne Riegan, age 37, has died.

(Flashback chapter, 21 years earlier) Viktor sat at his desk spinning a pencil in his hands, he usually got a lot of weird looks being the only kid here with zero magic, a phenomenon barely anyone has even heard of, as the classroom filled up someone walked in who caught his eye… dressed in a white uniform with a high collar, black slacks and white shoes, his hair was a dark black that parted at the middle and his eyes had prominent bags underneath them, with a sigh he sat next to Viktor due to that being the only available seat and he looked over at Viktor, his empty amber eyes staring at Vik, he studied him, his messy brown hair, bright blue eyes and the fact he was the largest person in there, he tapped Viktor on the shoulder and spoke, his voice was raspy and tired but… oddly calming “Viktor… right?” Viktor perked up slightly startled by this tired looking man suddenly speaking to him “uh, yeah that’s me” the man spoke again “Riegan, just call me Riegan good to meet you Viktor”.

Viktor stared at the lifeless form of Riegan, laying there with glossed over eyes, he stared down at him, his sword clutched in his hand, he looked up at the sickening smile of Nikolai and spun the sword in his hand, and dashed towards Nikolai, he was tossed to the side but got back up, punched, kicked, slashed, thrown, crushed, but each and every time, Viktor Von Lozharo famously stubborn, stood right back up for hours and hours on end until… Nikolai read his heartbeat… it wasn’t there anymore… he turned away in disappointment, Viktor, the man so talented… had died… that is until he felt a presence so terrifying, so suffocating a him, a god, could barely breathe, Viktor got back up, his massive, bloodied frame towering over him, Nikolai, a god of uncountable age, froze in fear, in the face of a mortal man, who seemed to resemble more that of a mania stricken madman than a normal human, Viktor with expert precision and speed drove the blade into his stomach, having it burst out the other side in a spectacular show of cruelty, Viktor held no mercy for Nikolai and this was apparently clear, he tore the blade out and kicked him to his back before standing above him, his face caked in his own blood with nothing but a singular shining eye staring down at Nikolai, the god was sure he has witnessed death himself, and with that Viktor drove the blade into his neck, killing a god nigh instantly, Nikolai Orkanov, age ???? Has died.

Viktor stumbled back and fell down, he was exhausted, his arm was still leaking his own blood and he could feel his vision fading, Riegan was dead, so was Nikolai… he was so tired… so very tired… he should get back to Gaular… he has to make sure everyone is safe right? No… he trusts Vert and Sonic… he knows they’ll take care of everyone… right? He can rest… he’s so tired… he’s so very tired… Viktor’s eyes began to close as the sun set, he knew Kotelu was safe, he knew everyone was okay… he should just close his eyes… yeah… he should close his eyes, Viktor Von Lozharo, age 38, has died.

Viktor braced himself for the bitter cold he’d felt just a moment before… but there was… a different sensation… warmth… his eyes opened and he squinted as the sun met his gaze and he sat up to find himself in a place that seemed familiar… but oddly distant… it was a field of reeds, stretching as fas as his eye could see, he looked around and heard a soft voice call out from behind him, one he has missed oh so dearly “Hello, Viktor” Viktor’s head turned around and he was met with the face of the woman he’d fallen head over heels in love with all that time ago “Mai…” his voice began to shake and she calmly walked towards him placing a hand on his cheek, she spoke softly “it’s good to see you again, my love, and I’m sure we will speak all about what happened in my absence… but… I believe someone has been waiting a while for you” she gently turned his face towards a different direction in the field… and Viktor recognized the silhouette almost instantly… long black hair kept in a bun at the top, soft features standing at 6,0, his old friend… Jayson Locksworth… Viktor’s lip began to tremble and he started to walk towards Jayson… Jayson turned to look at him and… his eyes practically lit up the room, Viktor began to pick up speed, so did Jayson, this continued until Jayson stopped and opened his arms, Viktor immediately hugged him so hard the two of them went tumbling to the ground, and Viktor did something he hasn’t done in a while… He began to cry…

(Should be good to continue here if you skipped this part)

Worried by the note he had received from Viktor during the party, Vert *gathered* supplies and *rushed* to the location it detailed—a decrepit temple, just a few hours west from Gaular. As he *approached* the temple, obvious signs of damage were visible, and he *noted* the presence of Kotelus. Though he would normally *strike* up a conversation, he was in a rush to *check* on the state of Viktor. As he *approached* the center of the temple, he *noticed* a large crack in the ceiling before *walking* into something. Surprised, he *looked* down. The sight he *saw* would scar him for life. At first, all he *noticed* was the deeply lacerated body of Gascoigne Riegan. An ominous feeling of dread *filled* the very pit of his stomach as he *looked* forward to *see* the lifeless body of the man he had called a friend for years. As he *saw* the wide grin on Viktor’s face, he *shook* his head and *let* out a slight sob, which almost *came* out as a chuckle.

*Standing* there for a moment, his shaky voice *filled* the air, 'You should have just *asked* for my help, you stubborn fool. We could have both *survived* this together, but of course, you *knew* that… so why?' He *spoke* to the body as if *expecting* a response, *waiting* with no relief. He *stood* there as minutes *turned* to hours; the sun *circled* the sky, and as darkness *tinged* the horizon, he *began* slowly *walking* home. A look *resembling* both hopelessness and confusion *masked* his face, but no matter how hard he *tried*, he could not *place* the emotions he *felt*. None of his 244 years on this planet had *prepared* him for something like this, so he *did* all he could do and *walked* back until he *saw* the gates of the familiar city of Gaular, though it now *felt* almost foreign to him.

Unnatural Presence in Castell

Vert *almost stumbled* toward the gates of Gaular, *dejectedly meandering* in an almost trance-like state. He *crossed* the guards without trouble – they *recognized* him by now, before *walking* by the square. *Snapping* out of his trance due to a bad feeling, he *looked* up to see a well-tailored red suit, along with a shockingly pale man wearing it. At first, Vert *was just going to walk* past this stranger, but on second glance, there was something oddly animalistic about his expression; almost as if he *were a predator hunting* his prey.

Vert, *shocked* by this, *reached* up and *blocked* the stranger with his hand before *snapping*, “What are you doing here? I don't recognize you, and I don't like that look on your face!” almost recoiling from the icy cool temperature of the stranger’s skin. The stranger *placed* a thin but well-kept and shockingly strong arm atop Vert’s hand before *brushing* it off with a little exertion, *switching* his face to a more natural state. The stranger *calmly replied*, “Oh, my friend, there’s no need to be afraid,” seemingly trying to memorize Vert, giving him a strong urge to exit the city immediately.

Vert, *not buying* the subconscious suggestion that this stranger offered, *scoffed* before questioning him, “What was up with your almost… sadistic grin from before then?” Suddenly, two jagged shapes *seemed* to press out against the stranger's lips, in patterns reminiscent of fangs, and the ones the stranger had *were* clearly razor-sharp. “Now that’s quite rude of you to say, sir,” the stranger *claimed*, dropping the earlier friendly façade. “So you are a Vampire then, I take it?” Vert *guessed* without a shred of doubt in his tone, confirming his sudden assumption.

In an attempt to reaffirm his earlier façade, the stranger *responded*, “Oh, but of course not, I am not one of those horrendous creatures!” Despite the stranger’s earnest attempt to dissuade Vert’s suspicion, his bluff was too little and too late, so Vert *inquired*, “What is with the fangs then? And stop trying to hypnotize me - it won't work, and I'm not in the mood right now.” Hearing that this object the stranger had thought was prey *mentioned* his attempted hypnotizing, a vein *thickened* on the stranger’s forehead, all semblance of positivity between them thoroughly erased.

The stranger, almost sarcastically, *remarked*, “Oh, but whatever could you mean, sir?” Frustrated with this stranger’s rudeness, Vert *decided* to make himself even more clear with a heavy threat, “I mean unless you want me to snap those fangs off so you actually resemble a human, you will find somewhere else to eat. I don't know how strong you are, but I possess the required ability to reliably kill your kind.” Losing one of the people he had grown to know here was enough – Vert would not allow any more risk to the people of Gaular.

The stranger’s eyes were now almost gleaming with red, he was now openly hostile. “You seem to be mistaken, sir; I am no vampire.” Vert *could see* his words had not gotten through to the stranger. “Then let me make this perfectly clear, goodman,” Vert’s voice *went* ice-cold, “I don't fully know what you are, but I know one thing: I can kill you, and I just lost a dear friend, meaning I'm very short-tempered this evening, so go through that square and out the gate and leave the people of this kingdom unharmed!” A menacing red aura *seemed* to surround the stranger, but he finally decided to accept Vert’s threats, and he *stormed* past Vert without saying a word, though Vert *could swear* he heard the strange man *whisper* something along the lines of “Don’t bother” into a nearby shadow, his voice seething with rage.

Vert *continued* to walk, ignoring the presence of the odd man once he *was* sure they had exited Gaular.

As he rounds the corner, the form of a young man seems to materialize ahead of him. *Speaking up,* he politely exclaims, “Excuse me, si—.” *Looking at the face of his sudden guest,* he notices a resemblance to the stranger he had just warned out of Gaular. The young man reveals fangs and speaks, smirking with a voice dripping with arrogance, “I don’t know why the young Lord Pentecost didn’t kill you, but I’m not turning down a free meal.”

The young vampire crouches before methodically approaching Vert, who is now standing in the path, furrowing his brow. “Well then? Awfully brave for a weak human, are you not?” *the young vampire croons* before springing at Vert. Vert catches the vampire by the throat in midair before stating, “Firstly, I am not a human. Secondly, I am not weak. You seem to be though, I’d assume you are a rather young vampire; after all, I was able to catch you so easily proving that you are both young and inexperienced without a doubt.”

The vampire struggles against Vert’s iron grip before being released. “That was a mistake,” *the vampire snarls* before chomping down directly onto Vert’s shoulder. Soon after, his eyes widen as he feels his teeth hit Vert’s stone shoulder with force and snap clean off, leaving stumps in their place.

Vert, finally completely out of patience for the night, *summons his roots,* draining the little life essence the newbie possessed before *punching him directly in the chest*. The newbie vampire does not survive this, but if he did, he might have compared the feeling to being hit by an avalanche. As the newbie feels the force, he is suddenly granted a fleeting, though unique view of his own headless body—following a loud smack as his head hits the nearby wall. Vert is finally able to return to Esaqu, though he is almost certain his issues with the vampires that seemed to be known as the Pentecost family? At least that is what he heard the vampire refer to that extravagantly dressed stranger as.

Vert sighed. *It probably was time – after a few weeks since his death – to clear out the room he had previously let his friend, Viktor, stay in.* As he opened the door to the room, *a cloud of dust filled the stagnant air, racing to the areas of the house which had been recently cleaned and which were near-untouched by any dust already.* *A lone beam of sunlight sneaked in from between the loosely drawn curtains before Vert reached out and pulled them open.* The room was surprisingly messier than it had ever been during its previous inhabitant's stint inside it. *Laid across the desk was Viktor's signature speartip, laid on top of a note which read, "You need this more than me, Vert."* Vert picked the speartip up, *testing its weight before sheathing it in the accompanying sheath and strapping it around his back.* He opened the desk and *brushed away the few rough cobwebs; a few items caught his eye.* *Several pictures showed Viktor and his old friends, though heavily worn over time, they were still clear enough to make out the face of Riegan standing next to Viktor, as well as a few other people he couldn't place a name to.* Nothing else noteworthy, *Vert was about to close the drawer, which was nearly empty at this point before noting it seemed oddly heavy.* *He looked closer and uncovered a fake backing on the drawer.* *Hidden in the drawer was a coin which adorned crossed swords as well as the number "641" on the reverse side.* *A rolled-up sheet of parchment also rolled out.* Vert gently took it before *unrolling it.* *His eyes widened; he held a map detailing locations of numerous Pentecost covens.* *The map was not familiar, though.* *Rather than displaying a name he was familiar with, at the top of the map, he was met with the title "Abex-ilas".* *This confused him as he was not aware of a land by this name, though he had recently heard rumors which suggested an impending migration of the local Rathnirians to a distant land of a similar name.* *He rolled the map once more before slipping it safely into his much less dusty desk.* *He then proceeded to clean the room methodically.* Viktor, it seemed, held little regard for material wealth right up to the end, *as Vert found little more of any importance.*

Several years later, in Abexilas

Vert strode through the Port of Villedeboard, the last rays of sunshine petered out, giving their last stretch of futile resistance. A smile cleared his weary face as he overlooked the development of the tavern and the last few houses in the district. He began absentmindedly strolling back to his manor. Then came the screech. It was sudden and short, emanating from the nearby alley. Vert ran there at his full pace, he may be the Emperor but he still wasn't about to let anyone get hurt in his land.

As he turned the corner into the Alley, his eyes widened. A body lay against the blood-covered wall, crouched over him body was the exquisitely dressed stranger, Arthur Pentecost. Except this time his mouth was drenched with blood and his rough, jagged fangs protruded directly out of his mouth. He turned, seeing Vert and hissed, pouncing at him at speeds almost faster than Vert could see.

Vert looked in shock at the scene before him as the vampire faced him. *An icy steel fist shot into his stomach*, and *he was thrown back into a tree on the outer borders of Villedeboard*. *He coughed up a small amount of blood before looking directly ahead of him*. Arthur Pentecost was now surrounded by what resembled a red mist, his fangs pointed out, jagged and razor-sharp. As Vert felt his consciousness waning, *he took a last gamble*; *thousands of roots shot out from the surrounding trees at breakneck speeds*, and *Vert felt his strength return*. *He stood, looking at the exquisitely dressed vampire as it moved discreetly at incredible speeds*.

Unlike before, Vert, now brimming with power, could follow the movements. So, when a large pack of Arthur's subjects rushed at him, *he moved quickly—at a speed previously impossible—and knocked their heads clean off before sending out roots to drain them and finish them off completely*. Half were weak enough to be killed instantly. The other half struggled a bit longer as they felt the life draining out of their very beings. *The last one let out a weak hiss as it slipped away*.

*Vert looked up to see Arthur watching, appraisingly, as if planning his attack*. Suddenly, the vampire's expression changed, and like before, *he leapt at Vert*. But this time, it was not Vert's stomach he made contact with. Instead, *Arthur was met with the boulder-like right fist of Vert and found himself rising into the air quickly*. As he came to his senses, winded by the punch, *he was once again falling*.

As Arthur hit the ground, *he felt a sharp object against his neck*. *Vert swung Viktor's old chain blade like it weighed nothing*, and *Arthur's head flew off*, *a wet squelch emerging as it was impaled upon a particularly sharp root*. *Vert pulled his scythe from his back, skillfully driving it through the torso of the vampire, pinning it to the ground*. *Vert extended a root to the torso and attempted to drain them both of energy completely*.

*His eyes widened in shock as torrents of life filled him—this vampire had been older than him by about sixty years*. As he sucked the last of the energy from the vampire, *he collapsed*. *As he lay there, roots spread out around him, emptying the excess energy involuntarily*. The plants in the area, fed by the extreme surge in energy, began sprouting excessively; trees grew taller, and several flowers bloomed.

It was in this locale that Vert awoke. *He looked around him, seeing the surge of life, and withdrew his roots*. *He then got up, dusting his suit off*. *Looking in the vampire's pockets revealed a dusty, torn half-map which seemed exceedingly similar to the one he had received from Viktor*. *He also found a red gemstone-imbued necklace, which looked to be the source of the red mist*. *After checking for other notable items, he hauled the body with him to the royal manor*. He would burn it later.

Vert awoke the next morning as beams of light shone into his chambers, *reflecting off the crown in the faithful glass cabinet that held it*. He *thought back to the events of the previous day* as he *got out of bed* and *began descending the stairs*. He *recalled the vast difference in strength between them* before his last-ditch effort with the roots. It had been close—too close. *As he reached the final step of the staircase, his thoughts were interrupted*. At the bottom of the stairs, he *saw the heavy rock that concealed the archives, cracked in half*. Alarmed, he *rushed downstairs*, fearing more royal treasures might be missing. Upon reaching the archives, he was *relieved to see that all the artifacts were still in place*—the horn, the horse armor, and no vampire.

He *hurried to the spot where he had left the vampire's remains* and *frantically searched the area*. It didn’t take long before he *found the note*. *As he read it, his eyes widened and his fist clenched*. Written in ornate cursive, it said:

Mr. Curassier, you have wronged my family, and worst of all, you have killed my brother. I believe in fair trade, so I have taken one of your family. A small girl. If you ever want to see her again, meet me at my towered house beyond that accursed temple in the mountains. I have included a map. Come alone. If I see anyone with you, I kill the girl. If you’re lucky, I will be able to fully revive my brother, and the girl will live. I will see you soon, Ember Pentecost.

Vert *immediately grabbed his chain* and *charged out of the house*. He looked around the outside of the house, the two guards who were on duty *lay dead* both missing their heads.