Fantasy Hunter's Moon [IC] [CLOSED]

[K0mori]

The Morning After Anya's Capture

Somewhere in western Tsavania, close to the border, there was a dirt road which connected an isolated farming community to a rail station which was primarily used by heavy oxcarts to pull crops to the depot. The day began with an oppressive fog which drained the yellowish green landscape of its natural color, leaving the roadway a monotonous smear of earth in a sea of pallor. A single wagon rolled along this anonymous road, a single driver at the reins and a single passenger in the back. Francis looked back through the slit window at the werewolf shackled to the floor; there were no seats within the wagon as it was converted especially for this purpose.

Anya had woken up a short time earlier, still in pain but with most of her wounds fully closed up. When Francis looked back at her, she glared at him with yellow eyes. "Where do you take me?" she growled at him. "I'm thirsty. If you don't kill me now, then give drink, or no talking."

"I don't negotiate," Francis replied. He was wearing all of his armor except for his helmet, which was sitting on the bench next to him. In the years since Grimtham, his silver-streaked hair had lost all of its original black, and the years of hard riding and hunting had hardened his features starkly, so that anyone who had known him before the Witlock Inquiry would be surprised to see him now. It was as if he had aged more than a decade in those three years, and that decade had contained nothing but misery and anger. "We're headed to the rail depot to resupply the Church's holy mission in this region. This wagon is to be filled to the brim with supplies, along with six others meeting us there. Obviously we can't load the wagon while there's a lycan chained up inside, so you have until we reach there to tell me what you know. Then you die."

Anya growled, twisting under the short chains which pinned her down. "What is the point if you kill me either way?"

"You die quicker if you tell me. Otherwise, you burn," Francis replied, coldly, before a rotten smile crossed his lips. "I'll be honest with you. I hope you're lying. I hope you don't know a damned thing. I love watching freaks like you burn, the way your wolf pelt just burst through your skin at the last minute, your instincts taking hold but unable to help you... I know how to make it worse than just fire. So please, keep stalling. You'll run out of time soon, and then I can do whatever I want with you."

There was a long silence afterward, and Francis focused on the road ahead, assured that, as he thought, the werewolf had been lying about knowing anything about the sanctuary. He would handle the execution just outside the depot area once he had a few spare hands to help him transport the unruly woman out of the wagon. They would wound her with the shotguns while they tied her down, and then he would use a canister of Vulcoleum, the more palatable name given to his "hell's honey" mixture now that a factory in eastern Tsavania had decided to mass produce it. Francis didn't receive any royalties for his invention; he had donated the recipe to the church.

He didn't need the money. He was just happy it was being put to good use.

Up ahead on the road, a shadowy figure on horseback emerged from the fog as she rode in the opposite direction to the wagon. Calmly, Francis picked up his shotgun, which was already primed to fire, and rested the barrel on his knee as he closely watched the rider. If she drew her own weapon, it would be a fight, but he would not make any aggressive moves, even if she rested her hand on her holstered pistol. Then, suddenly Francis's eyes went wide. He knew this woman. He knew this creature.

 

[Infab]

The woman continued to approach through, sitting high upon a chestnut colored horse. As she neared, Francis could see that she wasn't actually wearing a pistol on her hip. Instead, it was a lever action rifle, its stock and barrel cut down far enough that it could be used with one hand. She wore blue jeans, a white colored button-up shirt, a brown sheepskin jacket, and boots with spurs on the back. On her head, a white cowboy hat. She paused a few yards from him, the horse slowing to a halt, before she looked upon him. It was the same dirty blonde, green eyed dullahan that had been part of the Inquiry on Grimtham. But her eyes weren't green at the moment. They were black.

"Well now, Francis...ya look like you seen a ghost."

Rosanna McFadden then grinned wide, before looking past Francis to the wagon. She tilted her head. "...I see you got company." she said, glancing back to Francis. "Mind tellin' me what's goin' on here?"

 

[K0mori]

Francis's expression, while not overtly hostile, certainly didn't communicate any positive feelings as he looked on the dullahan. "Rosanna," he said as he remembered her name. "You left us right before we fought the Duke. Considering what happened afterwards, that doesn't exactly sit well with me." He seemed calm at the surface, but from the way he was avoiding eye contact and from the lack of color in his face, it was obvious that he was terrified. Francis knew that if things were about to get violent, stuck between a werewolf and a dullahan, he would be easily slaughtered. "If you tell me what happened then, I'll tell you what's happening now, and then we'll both be on our separate ways."

 

[Infab]

"Well...I died. The knight and I killed one another." she responded. She then shrugged. "Then I got better. Its hard t' kill a Dullahan, ya know." She shifted in her saddle, letting her hand rest on her thigh. Near the handle of the sawn-off lever-action. "I...I'm sorry I couldn't be there. I heard what happened. Its just..." she said, glancing down towards the ground, "...it wasn't my place to be there...Fate, ya know? The gods 're weird like that." She sighed, then looked back up to Francis. "Now...I told you what happened then...Now its your turn."

 

[K0mori]

Francis nodded. "That's a shame. I wish I could say we got as much use out of that rifle you left behind as we would have out of you. Velin appeared right after it ended. She was angry, and for obvious reasons. Out of everyone there, she recognized my contribution... She asked me to join her Order. That isn't a brag. I think you know exactly why she asked for me. As for what I'm doing here: the Order's business in these parts is exactly the same as it is elsewhere in Adonia." Although he was avoiding saying it directly, it was clear that he was referring to the mass purges. "You won't get any trouble from me; I'm not a fool. But that lycan is already dead... She killed humans and was due to be executed last night, but she wants to pretend she knows where all the vamps have been going, so I brought her with me on a resupply trip. She can talk or she can be quiet, either way..." he trailed off. Despite the evident fear in his eyes, there was also the slightest bit of malice. Rosanna could tell that Francis actually enjoyed his work quite a bit.

 

[Infab]

Rosanna listened, tilting her head a bit as Francis spoke of the woman. Rosanna could tell she was a lycan. She could sense her aura for miles. She glanced to the woman as Francis' voice trailed off, before looking back to him. He enjoyed this far too much for his own good. "Francis...just let her go. I don't wanna have to kill ya." she said, patting her lever-action. "I don't like killin' humans...but I don't like zealots. Call it one of those 'deep rooted' hatreds." She straightened up, as her hand continued to rest on her weapon. "And if ya try somethin' fancy with that boomstick...this'll get real ugly." Adona made the dullahans for a reason. This particular reason...to counter the zealots of the Order. Just wouldn't be right if she didn't do something.

 

[K0mori]

"Did you not hear me, woman?" He said, growing more anxious. "Anya Voronina of Sylgy-Yta. Wanted for two counts of murder, including one child. Her fate is sealed, she is bound for the abyss. You can save her, but at the same time, you can't save her. And moreover," he added, looking far more seriously, "I'm alone... If I let her go, I'll be a dead man."

"He lies!" A very frustrated voice growled from the wagon's interior. "The humans were an accident..."

 

[Infab]

"If her fate is dyin' somewhere and headin' down to the Abyss, fine. But you and your Order buddies ain't gonna be the ones punchin' her ticket." said Rosanna. "I know 'bout the purges. I know 'bout the zealots running around, killing pretty much any creatures they can get their hands on. Everyone's apparently losin' their fuckin' minds...most of all, the very goddess you follow. Velin." She shifted in her saddle again, but drew her lever-action from its holster and let it rest on her thigh. "Again...I don't wanna put a hole in you, Francis. But I will if I gotta. Let her go...and be on your way. I won't bother ya any more afterwards. You can ride on out of here, and we'll never see each other again. And I'll make sure she don't attack you."

 

[K0mori]

Francis looked at her sharply. He wished that he had some kind of gold charm to ward the dullahan away, like the kind the Order gives out to higher-ranking officers, but as of yet he hadn't made a name for himself. Even the shocking sort of violence he brought with him everywhere his unit went wasn't enough to stand out among the continent-wide mania for bloodshed. Now, he was in a situation which would be deadly if it had been any other dullahan, and it finally occurred to him how lucky he was at the moment. He let out a frustrated sigh. "You better," he said simply as he gently set the shotgun down on the floorboard and dismounted from the wagon. He pulled a key out of his coat pocket on his way around to the rear doors, which had a strong padlock holding them closed.

Once the doors were open, the two were greeted by the sight of Anya, a dark-haired woman in her 30s with a dour expression on her face. Her clothing was obviously hand-sewed and embroidered with beads and other decorations added here and there, but all the handiwork was ruined by the numerous tears and holes resulting from the Orders' zealots attack the previous night. Her shoulder was especially bad, with the wounds still not fully healed and a wide, bloody stain extending all the way down to her hip. She was chained by her wrists and ankles so that she could not sit or stand, but she could still lift her upper body and head to look down at them past her feet. "I thank Adona for dullahan," she said, her voice less harsh and her eyes more calm and natural-looking as Francis undid the additional locks holding her down. "You know this man? Terrible man. Likes to kill, like fun. I thank you, miss."

"Everyone here is a killer," Francis grumbled as he stepped back out, followed by Anya. "Don't get all high and mighty, now. ...And when she kills again," he added as he changed his focus to Rosanna, "their blood will be on your hands. Are we done here?"

---

Meanwhile, although it's not quite easy to describe how, as time flows so differently in the Abyss, Mariette and Cassandra were in the rarest of situations: Sazak had gone to the mortal realm to accomplish some unknown task, and left his sons in charge in his absence but, do to some other business which was occupying their attention, gave no task to the chained servants at all. For some unknown length of time, more than the far more common hour-or-so-long breaks they would receive on a far more common basis, but likely less than a day or two, the two were simply at large to do as they pleased, although the list of activities available to two prisoners of eternal damnation was understandably very short. It was on incredible spans like these, of which they had experienced maybe ten or so times in 30 years, that they typically visited others in Abyss and briefly enjoyed the company of someone other than each other.

Once, many years prior, Cassandra had tricked Mariette into visiting her husband, Prince Auguste Perrault, who was Sekath's charge as an ardent victim of his own longing for loving company. He was willing to force vampirism on Mariette and then plotted to kill her when her physical recovery from illness was accompanied by the death of all passion in their marriage. However, the deception hadn't been as entertaining as Cassandra had hoped; to Auguste, it had been nearly 1,500 years since he had last seen Mariette, and he did not recognize her immediately. Upon realizing who she was, he threw himself at her feet to apologize for what he had done and reveal his forgiveness for her every action against him. For Mariette, seeing the despair evident on his face after such a long duration of punishment in Hell frightened her more than anything she had ever seen. Looking into his eyes was physically painful and after the encounter, Mariette did not speak to Cassandra for roughly four months.

Despite herself, Cassandra found herself terribly afraid that Mariette would never speak to her again, leaving both of them hopelessly isolated, and was greatly relieved when they resumed their idle chatter.

More recently, however, Mariette and Cassandra stumbled upon the fate of Ser Edmond of Sherida, whom was stored away in one of the lowest catacombs beneath Sazak's palace. The two had ventured there to gawk at the punishments and hear the stories of the most thoroughly damned, when they came upon a suspended cage in a pit of fire. Within, Ser Edmond was eternally struggling to keep himself aloft in a space too small for his wings to carry him, as every time he touched the bars of his cage he was badly burned. Mariette would have simply kept walking, unwilling to confront the monstrous creature within the contraption, but Cassandra recognized the nosferatu as another of Duke Ashwood's allies, which inspired Mariette to act - especially after learning that Ser Edmond had turned on the Duke before the end.

Turning a large wheel which winched in a heavy brass chain, the cage was lifted free of the fire, allowing Ser Edmond to rest for the first time in almost two decades. Ser Edmond introduced himself to Mariette, and upon learning his tragic story and how he desperately tried to halt the Inquiry's advance in the final hours, Mariette was confronted with a question: "You may be gifted by hindsight... but I must know know... would you have... stood with them?"

Cassandra was taken aback by Mariette's response, when, after a few minutes of thought, she replied, "No."

"Do you just double-cross people for the fun of it?" Cassandra snapped in amazement. "How in the hell did you have any friends?"

Mariette shrugged. "They were better than me; that's why I'm here and they're not," Mariette replied sullenly. "But I agree with Ser Edmond; they should have found another way to stop Sazak. If they had simply talked it out, maybe they could have killed Valeria, and then Ser Edmond could have kept the Duke occupied while Theodore dealt the killing blow with Velin's bastard sword..."

Ser Edmond hung his head as Mariette spoke of the scenario, but grew alert again when Cassandra changed the subject. "No," she said bitterly. "You told me you were sent here by Velin. You don't even know if your friends are safe."

"Velin... that insolent child," Ser Edmond spoke, his voice dripping with hatred, "that... makes a mockery of previous... great Gods of judgment, she who is so... consumed by hatred, who turns all of us against each other, you should know this... Cassandra, you were a victim of her message, too."

From that moment forward, all three were united by their hatred of Velin. Their conversation continued for a time before the chained servants feared their absence would be noticed. They left Ser Edmond raised above the fire so that he could continue to rest, but a few days later, when he was discovered in that position, Mariette and Cassandra were quickly discovered and punished for their meddling by being left with Azgon for a day. They were beaten to a paste by the demon, but, unable to die, they slowly reformed and healed from their wounds, and were put back to hard labor the next day. However, this proved to them that Ser Edmond was only checked upon once every few days, which was intended to be a feature of his punishment. So hopelessly forgotten that not even the demons always remember to check on him.

Cassandra and Mariette used this to their advantage by visiting Ser Edmond with impunity; they simply needed to lower him back into the flames upon their departure, which the still-noble knight allowed to protect his two allies from punishment. That is why, at the moment in 1880 when Anya was being rescued from Francis by Rosanna, Mariette and Cassandra decided to visit Ser Edmond in their free time.

As they approached the smokey, forgotten stone chamber at the depths of the deepest catacombs, Ser Edmond already detected their approach from their auras and the sound of the silver chain dangling between them. They grabbed the wheel together and turned, raising the nosferatu out of his pit of despair and waited for him to collect himself from agony. "Ser Edmond, it is always a pleasure to see you," Mariette said with a distant, ghostly smile. Her eyes were full of the abyss lately and it was difficult to tell if he mood ever really changed. There was not much to discuss aside from the politics of the Abyss, although lately, the chained servants were becoming adept at each others' skills. Mariette was teaching Cassandra the fundamentals of dark magic, and Cassandra was teaching Mariette proper sword fighting techniques. They sat cross-legged at the edge of the pit so they could converse with the knight more easily.

 

[Infab]

Rosanna straightened up, and nodded. "We're done...now, best be on yer way. I'll sit right here and watch ya leave." she said, letting the sawn-off stock of the rifle rest on her thigh. She didn't plan to be the kinda person to take her eyes off someone just to get shot in the back. Too many of those types of people around in this day and age. She motioned for Anya to come over next to her horse, so that she could keep an eye on her while Francis set off down the road.

 

[joshuadim]

THE ABYSS



A demon crawled in agony on the floor, scrambling to try to escape from the enemy that had utterly decimated his unit and slaughtered most of his comrades. Both of his legs had been destroyed, one sliced off clean while another was mangled and torn. His entire body had large gashes and wounds to the point where it was a wonder how he was still even alive. Nonetheless, he tried with what little strength he had left to flee... to warn the others. To warn his master. But that would never come, as an armored figure strode casually behind him and planted a boot into his back before a blade pierced him like a knife would slice through butter. The demon died almost instantly from the shock of the final blow, its life sputtering out and his blood pouring out onto the cold ground below. Ethraeil removed his sword from the creature and looked around to see his lieutenant cleaning up. Velkor slammed his mace into a wounded demon's face, smashing its skull in while Baldathar ripped another in half as it screamed in agony. Ethraeil knew that this crusade had only last perhaps little over a year and a half back in the mortal world, but here it had been 15 years of slaughter, fighting, and bloodshed. Each abyssal life taken had fueled him and his loyal companions further as they advanced further and further through the seemingly endless numbers of demons.

Velkor and Selethar were pleased to see such numbers of souls ready to be used for their own machinations, while Baldathar was content with the sheer slaughter and carnage caused by his hands. Malric meanwhile presided near Ethraeil at nearly all times, acting as his bodyguard. Even though they had secured the smallest of footholds, it was a precious enclave that they needed to viciously defend. And for that, Ethraeil needed soldiers. And so, he looked to the cannon-fodder that had been slaughtered and placed his arms to the ground. Soon enough, the ones that were still mostly intact after the fighting began to rise from the dead once more, but not as servants of the Icons, but rather as slaves to Ethraeil's will. A few dozen more soldiers to the ever growing army of the dead, but he needed to play cautious, for if they coalesced too much in one place, they would be beset upon by the full force of the Abyss. As a result, Ethraeil immediately ordered the newly raised soldiers to move away, with a directive to attack any demons in sight and bring their corpses back.

The Lich King then turned his attention towards the only prisoner that they have taken relatively unscathed thus far, the commander of this small regiment who had a vessel rather than the regular stone or flesh skinned underlings. With help from Selethar, the demon was bound in place and unable to move and could only struggle in place as he watched the massive figure approach.
"Tell me everything you know, and I'll consider killing you quickly." Ethraeil spoke in a malicious tone. "Your comrades will be happy for you to join them."


"FUCK YOU!" the demon spat out, writhing against his bindings more. "YOU'RE GOING TO SUFFER, ALL OF YOU! YOU WERE FOOLS TO COME HERE!"


"Wrong choice." the Lich King muttered as he motioned for Selethar to continue his research before turning. As he walked away, he could hear the screams of the abyssal wretch. Velkor approached afterwards to speak: "My lord. The effigies are ready with the recent corpses brought to us."

"Good, prepare them to be placed. I want the abyssal filth lurking here to know the true meaning of fear when they dare try to cross me." Ethraeil replied as he looked around. The coast seemed clear, but they would need to move soon in order to continue their crusade. "Has Auriel returned?"

"I think I saw her return naught but a few moments ago." Velkor replied.

"Good. Finish cleaning up here, then we're moving."

 

[KRIY]

"What the..?" Was the only words the hooded man said before he was hit by the new arrival's right hand to the jaw, sending him crashing to a bunch of crates nearby.....

Continuation..

The two vampires immediately dropped Sophie as they charged at the new arrival in front of them, using their sharpened claws as their weapons. one of them lunged his claw towards him, only to be countered and have a silver knife slice through the vampire's neck, decapitating him. The headless corpse was thrown towards the other Vampire. who hesitated why the corpse was thrown at him, only to look up and see the Hunter's sword hitting its cleaving mark and decapitating the other Vampire as well.

The Hunter walked over to where the hooded vampire was regaining back his senses in the pile of broken wood left over from the crates, he then notices the crest that the hooded vampire was wearing. A moon cresent with a rose beside it, "you're apart of Aleister's secret group, are you? strange.. I didn't think you would be the stalking type." The Vampire was shocked, "Ho-how did you know about this?!" He grabbed the vampire by the coat, forcing him to stand up, "I have my ways.. now tell me, why someone as savage as you have and emblem like that?" The vampire in front of him sneered, "They practically giving refuge for Vampires like me a place to stay. And besides. I just wanted a free snack right before I leave." The vampire answering smugly. with that, The Hunter let hin go with a small push. creating some distance. he then walks back to the kneeling girl behind him, he kneels down and checks if there were any wounds on her body, "Are you okay? You were lucky that I saw you running the in alleyways up in the tower." The girl was catching her breath before suddenly getting shocked when her gaze saw the last vampire charging at the exposed hunter, "Behind you!"

Everything happend in a flash.

The Vampire's head rolled down the floor.

The Hunter wipes the blood of his dagger with his fingers and put it back to its sheath.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Is this the place?" The Hunter turns his head to his side. looking at the girl beside him,

"Yes, Ummm.. thank you again for saving me back there, I owe you my life." Sophie replied while she stepped up towards the doorway of the inn,

"Don't mention it. Its my duty after all. just stick to the populated lines of people in the streets. it can mask your scent, and if you don't mind, I must go. there's more work to be done." The Hunter answered her with a straight face.

"Ah yes, well... oh wait. I forgot to mention" Sophie turn backed just as The Hunter was ready to takeoff, "What's your name?"

The Hunter hesitated before giving his reply "....Venator." With that, he was gone like the wind.

 

[Infab]

September 24th, 1880
Eternis, Atraca

Cassiel watched as Velin paced the central hall of the grand cathedral, her arms folded and her head tilted forward as she appeared to be deep in thought. Cassiel didn't speak, as he already knew what was on her mind. Quite literally everything, but most specifically the offer that Tariun made weeks prior. The ascended demon proposed a deal in which she would assist a group into the Abyss to locate and retrieve Valeria, whom apparently was being held captive by Sazak somewhere, as well as attempt to eliminate Sazak or retrieve the artifacts that Taranoch possessed. In exchange, the group that Velin sent would have to assist Tariun in setting things up for a hostile takeover of the Abyss by Tariun and the remainder of Kaizen's chosen...advisors to the now-deceased former ruler of the Abyss.

The other things skirting the edges of her mind were the situation in which supernatural members of society were disappearing from the continent, fleeing to some other location. It wasn't Redonia, apparently, as word from High Inquisitor Winchester had arrived a week prior regarding it. And it couldn't be Nirdonia...the jungle-covered continent was hostile to most beyond the Drogaxl, a race of aggressive lizard-like beings. They were mostly exterminated immediately following the Age of Darkness, but it appears that due to recent time malfunctions, many of them have reappeared along with part of their extensive empire. There weren't as much of a threat as they had been previously, however. Still, it was unlikely that the supernatural members of society were fleeing to that green hell. There was also the situation with the nearby town of Redgorge. The local citizens were refusing to allow the Inquisitors into the town, and even had them at gunpoint in their most recent attempt to enter. The had gone through every legal means they could to gain entry, jumping through hoops for the locals. Velin was considering going there herself, really. They would turn away her children, but they wouldn't turn the goddess herself away unless they wished to be crushed under her heel.

Hudson, one of the many members of the Order of Velin stood nearby, watching the goddess as well. She had summoned him not too long ago, as she considered sending members of her Order into the Abyss to do the job. The issue was getting people into the Abyss. She didn't intend to use a portal, as that would drop them into a random location in the Abyss. Which was quite dangerous, obviously. Instead, she would use the Abyssal Door, which was hidden away in northern Daristein. The location was a Church secret, as the public knowing of a doorway into the Abyss would prove to be quite dangerous. Once she had amassed a group, she would take them there and send them through. It had to be a group that all bore a sin worthy of getting through the door. The pure, unstained soul would not be allowed through. Cassiel himself had also suggested an option. Why not send someone else? Not just members of the Order. Riberta, Henderson...those that were already condemned to death and that the world could do without in the event of their demise in the black pit. It was a good idea, but someone would have to lead them, obviously.

Velin considered Hudson, of course, but the man didn't seem like the type to lead such a group. He was only in the Order to repent for his past sins. It was an admirable endeavor, as he consistently proved himself to Velin, yet still...it wasn't the job for him. Cassiel had then suggested a man by the name of Vincent Beaumont, a senior inquisitor in the Vigilant Order and a citizen of Eternis. The man was a renowned demon hunter, having worked for the Church and in the Order for several years to repent for the murder of his wife. He had the leadership experience, and he could likely handle the role of leading this rag-tag group into the pit. And if he needed the help, Hudson would be there with him.

Velin finally paused, glancing to Cassiel as she dwelled on Beaumont. "Have you instructed Beaumont to come straight here from Clauzach?" Cassiel nodded. "Yes, my lady. He should be arriving so--" he said, before glancing to the cathedral's main doors. "...There he is." Then, one of the cathedral's large wooden doors opened. A man stepped through, shutting the door behind him and walking up the isle between the long benches. As he grew closer, they took in his appearance. He had long brown hair, which had been tied into a low ponytail. His hazel eyes darted between Cassiel, Hudson, and Velin as he walked, the tail of his dark brown long coat flapping behind them as he marched. He didn't dress like an inquisitor, appearing more like a lord than anything. "Sir Vincent Walter Beaumont. You arrived rather promptly. Most excellent." said Velin as she turned to face the man, whom stopped about two yards from her. He bowed. "Lady Velin. Its an honor to be in your presence." he replied, almost bluntly.

"We have some things to discuss, Sir Beaumont. Please come with me." she then said, turning and walking through the cathedral's hall towards the stairs leading up to the tower. He straightened up, following quietly behind her. Hudson followed soon enough, but Cassiel remained where he was. He had other things to tend to, in preparation for the Beaumont Mission.

---
​

A day later...
Northern Arnsfeld, Daristein

"[Make sure you keep everyone away from the cage. The alchemists can move her into the cart, so there's no need to get yourself killed.]" shouted the officer, as he watched the alchemists move the large metal cage into position. It had taken a day to reinforce the cage, to make sure the large female orc inside was properly contained. Why the orc was here in Daristein, instead of back home in northern Atraca with its fellow Orcs, they didn't know. They did however know that this orc knew how to use firearms. It came as quite a shock, honestly, as she snatched up one of their imported machine guns and opened fire on them. Luckily, the alchemists showed up when they did, otherwise there would have been far more casualties. Twelve men killed, sixteen wounded.

The alchemists moved the cage, using their extensive skills as well as some of the machinery they had brought, and gently set the cage in the back of the large cart. The orc was being moved to the train yard nearby, to be transported to Eternis. According to command, an angel working for Velin by the name of Cassiel had specifically requested that she be transported there. An odd request, but something that could be done. Once the cage was secure, the cart was sent on its way. Two alchemists followed behind on horseback, wearing their top hats as usual. "[You think those top hats are part of some kind of uniform? Or is it just some weird fashion choice?]" asked one soldier nearby. The officer shrugged. He didn't know. Probably just fashion.

---
​

Back in August, 1880
Near Tsavanian/Atracan Border

Once Francis was gone, having climbed back into his wagon and proceeded on down the road, Rosanna turned back to Anya and reholstered her lever action. Her eyes then shifted, returning to their normal green color. She then smiled. "There we go. He ain't gonna bother you no more." she said, before reaching into her saddlebag and drawing out a glass bottle filled with a clear liquid. Clearly vodka. "I'm more of a whisky kinda girl, but you could probably use this." she said, offering the bottle.

 

[Dmaster]

Hudson stood himself off to the side of Velin and Cassiel, near the wall as he stood with his arms crossed and not bothering to look to either the goddess or angel. It was quite an awkward experience for the hunter, and it would likely always be. The entirety of his life he always thought that the only time he would see Velin would be in his final judgment, having only joined the order for atonement rather than the rampant fanaticism that plagued their ranks. Yet given how the goddess behaved herself, it wasn't difficult to understand why such behavior was wide spread. Over the years Hudson's zealotry turned to apathy, preferring to end demons as there was hardly any moral quandary to be had when killing Abyssal spawn. The man also had plenty of reasons to despise such ilk, but he was not one to turn down a mission to slay the rare vampire or werebeast. He just had his preferences.

When Beamount arrived he simply nodded before Velin started to ferry him the lot of them elsewhere. It was true that Hudson was willing to help organize things, but he was not the least bit offended over not leading the group. For his various hangups and propensity to work alone, he wouldn't make the greatest mission leader. As he walked behind the man he had to question his manner of dress, yet he said nothing yet so he would not interrupt the goddess with idle chit chat.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

September, 1880

Shaguma Inari watched the rapidly changing countryside go by from the window of the passenger carriage. Trains were a fascinating creation. While she didn't initially know what to make of it when she first laid eyes on the serpentine assembly of wheeled crates, it soon became very obvious that this was a superior mode of transportation. It was nothing like the mediocre and pathetic narrow-gauge contraption that passed as a fairground oddity back home. What she had thought was fit for nothing but miners was now a world-changing machine. This particular train, she had learned, was only a small one - and that was with several carriages in tow. The entire carriage she sat in was empty, save for a handful of guards from the Divine Church and military, but it could easily fit several dozen passengers. Take out the wooden seats and it could fit even more, she wagered. With only a single train, she could transport a sizable force that was both fully armed and supplied for a campaign across vast amounts of land in a relatively short amount of time. No need to force march the infantry or let them rest, no need to feed and water horses, and most importantly of all, no cumbersome and vulnerable baggage train. Simply a single locomotive train and she could fell clan after clan. Unfortunately that required a viable rail network, of which there was essentially none in Shioya or the Kowareta provinces. She doubted many clans would even allow such a thing to cross their lands given what could be done with them. While there were more peaceful and practical economic uses, an expedient method of moving an army was far superior than hauling grubby peasants or cattle. With only a single train, she could have taken the Umagi Clan's ridge fortress before their allies had arrived while her forces were in disarray traveling up the narrow mountain slopes with all their gear upon their backs.

She sighed lengthily to herself as the carriage shuddered along the uneven track. It did make somewhat of a racket, though the repetitive clack of the metal wheels on metal rails was relaxing. There was as a similar cadence to marching feet, or galloping cavalry. The engine even boasted a loud whistle to announce its presence. If Inari had been in charge, she'd lay on the whistle longer than not, just to see all the peasants react in alarm to a snarling, smoking, steel beast barreling towards them. Adonia wasn't home, but it had its charms.

Her eyes drifted to the men seated around her at random intervals. She was rather surprised to see the lack of swords here, and had thought that perhaps their masters had forbidden open possession. The fact of the matter was far worse. Many, it seemed, abandoned the sword for the gun. There was little art or discipline in those ungainly long rifles. Certainly, they could be made into spears. Most armies were already armed with the spear and other polearms. Yet this trend of full replacement demonstrated a more industrial method of fighting that lost the glamor of field action. Why would she want to kill someone from a distance when she could do it up close? A company or two of flintlocks, or even those archaic matchlocks, were useful enough in support alongside the bowmen. Bows were low maintenance and perfect for a fast moving force without supply. The scavenged bolt-action rifles she had pilfered from the Shioyan's were engineering marvels, no doubt, but without plentiful ammunition they were little more than heavier, shorter yari. Even the little six-shooters took some of the enjoyment out of fighting, though they had their uses.

"You, soldier man. Why are you so pathetic?" Inari asked, kicking the seat in front of her to get the attention of the uniformed man sitting there. He glanced back with a scowl. "What the hell are you talking about now?"

"Your guns are for children. Where are your swords?"

"Not much use in 'em, unless you're hunting for the church or being showy," he answered curtly. He had learned very quickly that when the prisoner started talking, she wouldn't go quiet unless her appetite for conversation was filled. Inari snorted and rolled her eyes, kicking the seat again simply because she wanted to, and because it made the chains attached to her rattle louder to annoy the other men around the carriage. "You people build strong machines and build weak people. That little port? I could take in half a day. These little villages? One day. I could-"

"Oh, lovely hell, shut your mouth!" One of the other guards snapped. Inari smiled and turned her head to glance at him. "All talk and no action. Silly, silly At-ra-can." Her fluency in the language still had a lot to be desired, but she annoyed the hell out of the sailors enough, and impressed them in card games, that she was able to learn a little bit more on the ride over the sea. She found that if she really butchered the words, it made them angrier. At least all the banter served to improve her language better.

"Child man. Baby. You shoot gun because you cannot use sword. Even old woman know how to use sword. Even starving child know how to use sword," Inari rambled on, shaking her chains again. The guards were pretty weak, she realized fast, considering that they never hit her. "Weak, weak!"

When the man finally seemed like he was going to stand up to smack her, he caught a look from another of the soldiers - an officer, she assumed - and he sat back down. "We don't need this one all marked up. Remember what Wilson said. Presentable. You want to show off trash to Lady Velin?"

That caught Inari's ear, and she settled down a little. "Velin? Kami Velin?"

"What? The goddess Velin."

"You take me to see kami Velin? Pfah. Weak people, weak god. Probably not god and geisha. Maybe good geisha, but no god. I can fight your geisha easy. No sword. Just hands. Maybe I be new god!" She laughed.

The carriage continued to rattle, not unlike Inari, on its way into Eternis. Try as she might, she didn't get much more of a rise from the guards. It only proved to her what she knew. That these were weak people. Hopefully their goddess Velin had more substance than these fools.

 

[Doomevil]

Atraca, Skull Creek
September 23rd

It’s been a while since the Marianne and her crew traveled across the seas, selling and buying supplies wherever they went. But it was now heading to a close for Senya as they were nearing Skull Creek. Skull Creek was your average western town in Southern Atraca, many people finding steady work here. Senya and Captain Jose walked out of the ramp, overlooking the area with bustling activity. A few people carried on automobiles, while some rode horses in town. Captain Jose breathed in the daylight, hands on his hips.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure working with you Miss Melgaeron. You take care out there now. This is Atraca, and let’s just say they don’t like to deal with abnormality around here like we do.” Jose admitted, making an unsatisfied look on his face.

“Is that so?” Senya questioned, turning to her surroundings.

“The Church is shaking every average vampire or werebeast they can find. Quite literally too, I wish I was exaggerating. But them’s the times we’re heading in. We’re witnessing history book material right here.”

“Unfortunate.” She crossed her arms, nodding at the Captain. Jose sighed with agreement. A lot of developments in Atraca happened in the past three years following the appearance of the old races. While Senya was indifferent to the atmosphere, “We’ll stick around here for a while until we get moving again somewhere else. Our next stop’s towards Stiusil. Know about it?”

“No, haven’t had the opportunity.” She answered leaving Jose somewhat disappointed. He sighed with relief, staring at his ship.

“Beautiful country. Maybe one day you’ll find a contract there.” Both gave their goodbyes to each other, shaking hands on a good note. Captain Jose returned to the Marianne, planning his next mercantile strategy. Senya sighed...



The Red Warden simply roamed to her next destination that can get her decent work. As she wandered she many civilians dress up in farmhand outfits, tailored suits to those were wealthy and coats for the people who look like they can handle a fight.

Skull Creek saw paperboys, even adults pass newspapers for the locals. Senya encountered a small girl by the age of 13 dress in brown trousers and a white shirt. Her initial reactions towards the Warden looked nervous but the papergirl attempted to put up a brave face on. “Howdy Mister, here’s a newspaper for you. Have a look.” She exclaimed, extending an arm to the knight. Senya took the newspaper, reading what’s the current news in Southern Atraca. She heard reports of tension between the Inquisitors and locals of Redgorge. A few members from an infamous group called the Vandal Gang committed a bank robbery a few days ago which the authorities still investigating.

Senya thanked the papergirl for the newspaper, placing it into her bag. The papergirl waved goodbye right after the Red Warden walked away. She heard promise of good work in Eternis from the locals. All she needed was to get there by the railroad fast enough.

She purchased a ticket from the uniform wearing vendor at the booth. The Creek Station can bring hundreds of passengers from here to Eternis less than three days if the train’s maintained working order. Already more people poured into the passenger cars than she expected, marvels of technology at work.

The Warden headed inside one of the passenger cars, meeting about a dozen people who dressed to impress just to ride on a train. She raised an eyebrow behind the helmet. Back then before her Warden days, she would be all dressed up like the people here for the occasion and it wasn’t that long either. Senya took one of the front seats as a few passengers glanced to the armored Warden. Eventually the train was about to start, these cars were designed with sleep seats in mind. There were also sleeping compartments elsewhere while they had a kitchen for the hungry passengers.

Senya tried her best to relax against the soft seat, resting her head against the window where the train picked up speed. She heard a few conversations from the people behind, dressing in formal clothes. There was a man and a female, possible a mature couple heading to the cities. They were speaking about the Divine Five, something Senya wasn't really knowledgeable about. House Melgaeron worshiped the Dragons than the major religions in Adonia.

"What's happening here is the work of something wicked and the Divine Five aren't happy about this. It would be wise we'd stay on the Church's path if we wish to seek salvation." The male stated, prompting the lady to agree through quick nods.

"I can't help myself but ask why is this happening to us? Did we do something wrong to make the gods angry?" She asked. The man sighed heavily, staring at the car's ceiling.

"The world is cruel. We should always remember to be grateful we're not the ones suffering the Gods' wrath, but creatures who wish to harm our way of life."

Senya shook her head, heading into a deep sleep until she got to Eternis.

...

September 24th
The train slowed down to meet up with the Eternis Station, coming to a complete halt for its passengers to pour out of the transport. Senya was one of the last ones to leave, stretching her arms and legs from the sitting. Although the train experience was nothing to brag about, she did enjoy the stellar cuisine the chefs made for them. The Red Warden roamed across the area, heading to any places of interest.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

The deafening, screeching noises of a train braking wake Loque up from her nap. Rubbing her eyes, she looks through the window pane to determine whether or not she's at her stop.

-ETERNIS-

The sign said it clearly. This is indeed her stop. She gently walks down the golden steps of the first-class carriage and takes in a giant whiff of clean air as she stretches out her arms. It's a nice city, very large and pleasant looking, and she really enjoyed visiting often whenever she got sick of the Escarian countryside. Unfortunately this time, she wasn't visiting for pleasure. She can't help but feel frustrated as she looks at everyone around her talking to one another, socializing, walking around. If only the circumstances that brought her here were just as clean as the streets. The other first class passengers were having their luggage brought out for them, but what Loque brought with her costed her a little bit of money to ensure the only hands that would lay on it for now were either hers or her servants. What she has with her is something she intends to give to the church after they had recently asked her a slightly larger than normal sum of money for 'donations'; something so utterly important that she wanted to deliver it personally. Or at least would try to, if she was ever allowed to enter. Irregardless, she's determined to see it delivered to them at least, even if one of her servants has to do it themselves.

"It is here, Madame." says her butler, carrying a medium-sized coffer in his hands. "Untouched and unmarked as you asked."

"Excellent! Let's move while it's still fresh!" she says, trying to contain her excitement as to what she's about to do to the large cathedral in the distance.

 

[K0mori]

A Few Hours Following Anya's Rescue

When Francis arrived at the depot without the prisoner marked on his manifest, he was questioned. "Mr. Adams, it says you were transporting a lycan. What happened to her?"

"I had an encounter on the road," he replied, frustration evident in his voice. "A dullahan. We avoided a fight because we recognized each other; we worked together three years ago on a Vigilant Order inquiry on Grimtham Isle."

The men working at the depot dropped what they were doing and gathered around in confusion. The officer questioning Francis shook his head to overcome the shock and questioned more sharply. "And was she a dullahan then, too?"

"It was; save me your judgement," Francis replied, tartly. "Velin herself knows of the circumstances. Regardless, I didn't know it survived the inquiry. It threatened to kill me if I didn't release the lycan into her care, and given that the brothers and sisters of this Order do not engage Dullahans alone, I gave it what it wanted."

The officer stood straight. "You're not meant to just let it go, either. You're to round up a posse immediately and pursue."

"What do you think I'm doing now!?" Francis barked at him. Realization settled in on the officer's face immediately, but Francis continued to lay into him anyway. "There's a dullahan and a werewolf on the loose in this area. I'm calling you all to arms, right now, so that we can pursue them both and cleanse the road for good!"

The men sprung into action, grabbing their rifles and other weapons, but between the ride to the depot, the time spent preparing, and the ride back to the spot of the ambush, the zealots were too late; Anya and Rosanna had already departed in different directions. Horse tracks on the dirt road helped to verify Francis's claim, and when he returned to the depot behind schedule, he was further delayed by a required incident report which would be telegraphed all the way back to Eternis, based on Francis's insistence that the dullahan was one which Velin was aware of.

---

Hours Earlier

Anya took the vodka in both her hands, removed the cork stopper and took several gulps of the liquor before tipping her head back and blowing a heavy sigh to the sky, letting the foul-tasting fumes be carried away in the fog. "Good drink," she remarked a moment later. "It will help with pain... always does. I need water soon, but will be okay now. You sound Atracan, like evil man," she remarked, referring to Francis. "You are both foreigners from far away. Did you fight in the war? Why come here? This is nowhere." Then, after a fraction of a moment of thinking, the woman seemed to already know the answer, although she was wrong. "You come look for salvation, like rest of non-humans? It is not in Tsavania. That much, I know."

 

[Infab]

Rosanna reached into her saddlebag, drawing out a canteen full of water. She offered it to Anya afterwards. "I'm dead, so I don't really need it." she said, with a bit of a chuckle. "Yeah, I'm from southern Atraca. I ain't looking for salvation, though." I kinda already have it. Once Anya took the canteen, she then reached into the saddlebag once again and drew out a map. "I was sent by someone...a kinda important someone...to nudge you in the right direction." She unfolded the map, flipping it around so it was right, then searched it for a specific spot. "Ah, there we go." she then said after a few minutes. She then held the map down and pointed to a spot. A wooded area in northern Daristein. "There. That's where you should go. Its not salvation...not by a long shot...but it leads to it. Trust me." she said, with a smile. "Look for...a weird lookin' door. Should be built into the side of a mountain...when ya find it, stick around that door. Someone will show up eventually, and ya need to go with 'em."

She handed the map to Anya afterwards. "...Its a matter of fate...just like me showin' up here to save you from that man." she then said, as she straightened back up in the saddle. "All I can tell ya...is that its gonna be difficult...but important. Understand?"

---
​

As the Red Warden wandered about, they were abruptly stopped by an angelic voice from behind them. "A Red Warden? Its not often I see those that follow the Dragons." said the voice. As the Warden turned about, she found herself gazing upon a man dressed in a silky black suit of foreign make. He had short blonde hair, and his eyes bore a light silver color. His skin practically glowed in the light. "My name is Cassiel...Are you looking for work, dear Warden? I might have something that would interest you if you are."

 

[K0mori]

As Rosanna spoke, Anya became less and less comfortable in her presence. She was accustomed to being the peasant woman from nowhere, and now suddenly there was a mysterious benefactor who had some kind of plan for her? When she had looked at the map for a while to get an understanding of the trek ahead of her, in the opposite direction from the sanctuary that she was following the vampires toward, she looked skeptically at Rosanna. "You came here for me? What if I say no to this?" she said, trying to hand the map back to Rosanna. "My travel is no less important. I go to secret place where vampires and werewolves go, take lives of those who kill my family."

 

[Infab]

"Ah...I see." said Rosanna, looking back down at the woman. "...You know they'll likely kill you, right? Its a colony of supernaturals...and sympathetic humans. That...or the Order or Velin herself will kill them all before you get there. Besides...killin' them ain't gonna make you feel better...and it won't bring your family back...I know that first hand." Rosanna sighed. "...Werewolves killed my brother. They killed me too, but...Adona brought me back from the dead. Turned me into a Dullahan. He lead me to the werewolves...and I killed them. I didn't feel any better 'bout it afterwards."

She glanced about for a moment, growing silent, before looking back down to Anya. "...Who were the people you killed?" she asked, tilting her head. "That man said you killed someone and a child."

 

[K0mori]

Anya's expression changed, a look of remorse settling over her. "I..." she began to say, shuddering a bit as certain unwanted thoughts crossed her mind. "I have no joy, no light in life. They came to family home, kill my husband, kill my son, leave me behind, bitten... I am full of rage, every day. I cannot sleep. I cannot control changes. So I do not live. I hunt; I hunt and I kill werewolves. Not just ones who murder my family, but all werewolves, until they kill me. I feel it is only reason I live, not to feel better, but to avenge, and avenge until I am gone. Nothing good comes of us." She then hid her eyes behind her trembling hand. "I track werewolf man to home, he is one of my family's killers. I wait for him to sleep, then cannot wait longer. I lose control. Awaken... two or three hours after the killing. His wife and children: dead by my claw and fang. They were human; I knew before. It made no difference in the moment. I remember it... I- ARRRGH!!!"

Anya doubled over, planting her fingers in the ground in front of her as her whole body appeared to ripple, her face halfway contorted into the snout of a wolf. "...like a nightmare... I wanted it. I wanted to kill!" Her voice was ugly and warped by the rage-induced transformation, but quickly she threw herself to the ground, face down against the dirty road, and, with great heaving breaths, reversed what was happening to her. When she had calmed herself, she sat up, looking human once again. "I am cursed," she said plainly. "And I am damned. So I will go to hell with as many other werewolves as I can."

 

[Infab]

Rosanna listened and watched, as Anya explained before briefly (and partially) transforming. She genuinely felt sorry for this woman, but cutting down all the werewolves she could wouldn't solve anything. It'd only cause more pain, and condemn her to a path of pain herself till her eventual death. "...I'm...sorry for your loss, Anya...and I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this." she said after a few moments. "...I got a friend that was infected...He learned to control it, but it took a lot. The rage is what drives it...in order to control it, you gotta control your rage."

After a moment of silence, she spoke once more. "...Adona's trying to put you on a better path than what you're on, Anya...and trying to get you to put your curse to a better use. You...just have gotta go to that spot I showed you on the map."

 

[K0mori]

"I have nothing to lose, no?" Anya said, bleakly. "If nothing is there, then I go on with plan. Maybe Adona come meet me himself next time. Would make story easy to believe." She picked herself up onto her feet and brushed the dirt off her face as best she could before looking up and down the foggy road. "We go now, or else humans will come here for us. Thank you... Rosanna? Evil man called you that. Thank you again."

Once Rose had said her goodbye to the troubled werewolf, she too rode away, unsure of whether Anya would follow through with traveling to Daristein. As soon as the two were far enough apart so that the fog would conceal her shame, Anya downed the remainder of the water and vodka she had, then shed her clothes and became the wolf. She powered through the countryside forcefully, into the woods where the humans feared to tread. It was much faster this way.

 

[KRIY]

Red Gorge, Atraca, Current Time.

A train blows its horn, indicating its final stop. the brakes engage, letting out an annoying screech as the train slow itself as it arrives in the train station. in a few minutes the train comes to a full stop. The passengers leave the train and admiring the view of the new land in front of them.

And among those passengers (who is well hidden in the crowd) is Wesley Wilch, after 3 years in hiding, it would be a nice to visit some of his old companions back in the Inquiry. and who would be more estatic than the man that has stucked around with him through good and bad in the Inquiry, Jakob Phillomon.

He gotten some news from the local inns in Braumwich of a Detective agency in Red Gorge, although it wasn't interesting to the Vigilante. his attention soon peaked once heard the name "Jakob" being mentioned. With all the information he had gathered, he looks at a nearby building. away from public eyes and an idea pops into his mind, "Hmmm... Lets take the scenic route." he pulls up his hood and dons his metallic facemask and climbed on the roof of the building and parkoured his way to the direction of Jakob's place.

He hops onto the final building which would be next to Jakob's workplace and he walks over to the edge and peeks over to see Jakob outside of the Agency. bored, tired or possibly the combination of the two. with that, Wesley jumps off the two story building and landing just a few feet away from in front of Jakob.