Private Tales A hunter in the streets

[Rainer]

The window was crossframed with rotten wood, turning the view of the city into four blurry quadrants. The sun had casually receded on the horizon, shining a curtain of light into the loft that slowly edged up towards the ceiling. It was just moments passed that Rainer could move towards it; the light had finally dimmed behind the spire of a grey and white cathedral.

It was a wealthy city, one that he knew quite well. Buildings largely of white and topped with clay roofing shingles. Everything seemed to lift up as the view drifted, mounting towards the hill in the background where the college stood as a monument for magic and its teachings. It was a place that would serve them little purpose, much to his own dismay. They would find more fruit plucked from the infrastructure that rested beneath the cobbled streets.

“It’s almost time.” He whispered, feeling the growl of his stomach as he counted the minutes since his last feeding. 2825 minutes, nearly two full days. Far longer than he liked to go but things weren’t exactly going swimmingly for the past two months. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t expected the pain of transition but small parts of him romanticized the idea of the change and having a mentor by side. It was so much different for him; abandoned in the causeways of The Shallows to pick up a life he hadn’t wanted through reading of lore and dusty manuscripts.

It had all been trial and error.

His gaze drifted to the corner of the room where his scabbard sat, cradled by the chains of the meteor hammer. The room was dimly lit with candles mounted against wooden beams. A bed sat in the other corner and a pile of straw laid across from it, still slick with mud from the last ‘guest’ that had taken reprieve there. Beneath them, the tavern had yet to come to life. He anticipated that would change as the church bells chimed and indicated the end of the working day.

“We’ll leave as soon as the music starts downstairs…” He offered her a glance before finding the window once more, feeling at the small of his back for the demijohn full of alcohol that would soon been re-purposed for torch fuel. “To avoid any attention.”

Wren

 

[Wren]

"We've been here for two days," the quiet rebuttal from his companion currently sat at a small desk. To her right a lantern on its last drips of oil, to her front the journal she'd taken to keeping, to her left her weapons leaning into the corner where desk met wall.

The journal had been his idea, though she'd seen no indication the man knew how to write. He knew how to read, at the very least. A very old posting at the far edges of the western road to Elbion had spoken of nightcrawlers around the city. Hadn't seemed promising - the posting was faded and tattered - but Rain felt confident they would find what they needed.

"Two days," the tone was a hair below a snarl, "there's not been a single sign. Not one whiff of blood save that idiot on the cartway," he'd nearly lost her to that. The bruise on her left jawline was nearly gone. Would have been completely gone if there had been anything here to eat.

"And I swear to all the old Gods and the new I will end the next person that makes a fucking remark about my ears. Damn this place."

Racism was a bit on the nose here, which was curious considering she'd read somewhere (at least she thought she did) that several of the higher Maesters were of elvish descent. Seems the culture of the College didn't fully translate to the districts sitting below it.

 

[Rainer]

At the thought of having to deal with her at four days into a famine, he suddenly felt a tinge of sympathy for his future self. His only hope was that she could manage the rage far better than him.

"Yes. Two thousand eight hundred and twenty seven minutes." He confirmed, undercutting her estimation by a hair. Just then, he felt a thump resonate through the floor boards as the tavern band kicked on. It was nothing more than a mandolin by the sounds of things, but the singer was caterwauling with the best of them.

Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment paper with a broken seal of wax on the binding. Setting it down on the desk in front of her, he pushed it outward and over her journal. It showed a map of a section of the city, crudely drawn, with red lines that indicated a pathway. "Not a whiff of blood because it's washing through the sewers. That's where we're headed tonight."

The original message was misinterpreted for a location down in the merchant district, a warehouse used to store non reactive saltpeter. What it really meant was the entrance was obscured beneath the warehouse and the saltpeter worked to throw off the scent.

"Dock worker informed me of an access point beneath the wharf, leading beneath the warehouse..." Informed was an easier way of saying the worker spilled the beans at a knifes edge. Pressing a finger into the map, he nodded. "Just a stones throw from here. Though I can't speak to their affinity for elves...we'll have to ask them when we get there."

 

[Wren]

The clench of her jaw was working extra hard to hold her tongue and, presumably, her temper, as he explained the plan. Some part of her recognized the virtue of patience. It was a very small part being forcibly crushed out by hungry growing continuously more ravenous.

"How long has that been rolled up in your pocket?"

The answer didn't matter. The soles of her boots shoved her upwards from her chair, standing her in direct proximity with the taller, broader man, "And what the fuck are we waiting for?" She reached around him for her weapons, grumbling under her breath as she strapped the sword belts around her hips.

 

[Rainer]

"Two days...give or take." He replied with the hint of a smirk, stepping back enough to not be knocked over as she reached around him. "And we were waiting for the sun to go down."

Striding over to the corner, he picked up the broadsword and slung it over his back. Running the chain in several loops, he strapped the meteor hammer to his hip in similar fashion to a lasso. "You haven't eaten in two days. You'd more resemble bacon, burned black, than a warrior if you pushed too quickly..."

Despite how she might have felt about him at that moment, he preferred her current form over a pile of gray ash. "You know...you're muscle flexes right here." He pressed a thumb against his temple as he looked back towards her, still securing the broadsword with his other hand. "When you get angry."

 

[Wren]

A furrowed brow carved an angry grimace into her expression while her hands roughly buckled the straps that held her bracers in place. She needn't reminder (except she did) about the repercussions of her current relationship status with the sun. They'd mostly kept to traveling at night, spending as little time in the daylight as possible. Something told her it wasn't normal behavior - maybe it was the sunkissed hue of his own skin.

"This isn't angry."

She'd always been fair of flesh.

"I've other muscles that flex when I'm angry," Wren yanked on her gloves and hastily took up quivver, arrows, and bow, slapping the man with a visible glare before looking past him at the window.

It was dingy but it was also dark. Sort of. Good enough.

"Sun's down." Slamming the chair into the desk she turned and yanked open the door, stepping out without another word.

 

[Rainer]

He wasn't sure if that was a threat or a promise. Or if he really cared to sort out the peculiarities that separated those two things. She had a temper on her which was good, until it wasn't. And it took a bit of trial and error to figure where that line existed.

Giving her a moment to make her way out of the loft, he silently returned to the desk and rolled up the parchment. Stowing the map back under his cloak, he checked over the various equipment strapping's before following in her wake.

The room and the hallway leading out were all lit in various shades of orange, tinged gray by the smoke of tobacco and the roaring cauldron behind the tavern entry way. It smelled of sweating pork and an over indulgence of spices. A common tactic used when there was a deficit of meat quality and even poorer quality produce. As he made his way down the stairs, he laid eyes on an assortment of characters.

A man in a jesters garb, strumming a lute that was one string shy of a full set. To his left, a gaggle of women that were in ever decreasing layers of garments. To his right, men were hollering as they shook tankards and slapped cards against the table. While Rainer was surprised at how rowdy things had gotten, and how quickly, he couldn't help but find a bit of providence in making a getaway at the perfect time.

Cutting out of the entrance to the tavern, a furrowed expression turned from one side of the road to the other. While he could easily use his senses to find Wren, he was more entertained at the notion of her trying to find her way to the warehouse on her own. It was a stones throw from the tavern but only if he was the one throwing the stone.

 

[Wren]

She hadn't actually gone far.

The hollering man that came very suddenly flying through the air from an alley to the side of the tavern was as good a telltale sign as any. He landed in a heap, making haste to get back to his feet with wild eyes and a ripped tunic, "That timber mole gone right loose in the skull! Get away!"

"The fuck you just call me?" and there she was, stepping out from the alley.

He ran, yelling obscenities about only wanting a drink.

Wren sniffed, grimace persisting, and tossed the coin purse she'd taken off of him before tucking it away, "He's gone. Get out of here."

Another face appeared from the alley, a young woman looking equal parts scandalized and terrified. Clearly having just been accosted by the man judging by the way she was holding her own wardrobe together, she simpered and ran off in the opposite direction.

"I hate this city."

 

[Rainer]

"Too bad..." He stated as he looked over his shoulder, watching the assailant run off. "Seems like you could do some good."

Shaking his head, he looked towards Wren with something quite contrary to indifference as he approached slowly. "Timber mole is a new one for me." Slinging his arm up to the horizon, he pointed and then gestured to the left.

"Beyond that Ruddy Maid Brothel, we cut left and down to the edge of the Merchant district...we should see signs for the Portculis that leads into the wharf district. A warehouse down there should be painted with a phrase across the side. Kay-En-Oh-Three."

Dropping his arm, he shrugged. "Sooner we get down there and take care of things, sooner we can leave this city." Not that he was obliged to any form of hurry. While she may have hated Elbion, it was no different from any other place of this magnitude. They might have been on the hunt for some time but with a catch like this, they could feast for days. And that sort of opportunity couldn't be found except in places like Elbion and Alliria.

 

[Wren]

Timber mole is a new one for me.

Wren snorted. New for her, too. Thought she'd heard every derogatory name for an elf there was. Apparently there were always more to be learned. She followed his gesture, eyes peering into what distance was afforded them at this level of the city. Wasn't much. The lower districts sat on a flat plain at the base of the mountain - so difficult to measure the immense scale of Elbion when you could nearly see all of it from the foothills.

Elbion was fucking massive. Not a single tree in sight for miles.

All the more reason to get to business.

"Any particular reason we're still standing here, then?"

No.

Wren rolled her shoulders, exercising an iron fist of control over her growing hunger, and made way towards the Ruddy Maid. After they cut left the walkways were a bit less crowded.

"How many you suspect?" hungry Wren hated idle chitchat, but formulating a plan wasn't idle.

 

[Rainer]

They drifted by the Ruddy Maid, almost aimlessly to those didn't know any better. Light from the interior window shifted as shadows moved by. Two women moved out to the porch, one only wearing a pair of shear white bloomers while the other was wearing a flattering chemise with laced baggy pantaloons. Leaning over the banister, the women cooed as the duo cut through the walkways.

"Well if there is nest, it could vary...could be as few as five, could be as many as twenty. Though...the number isn't what concerns me."

Very little concerned him beyond survival. But the contract that they had received was vague, indicating that the killings likely stemming from this area were methodical. Occurring at different times and despite the local constabulary being on the prowl, there were no clues beyond a few faded footprints leading to a warehouse. Vampires came in many forms and many strains. Some could pass as humans or elfs, as he and Wren did, while others were beastly and feral. Some could even fly or use mystical powers often reserved for the most powerful of mages.

And then there were the higher vampires, the sort he had never tangled with. He wasn't even sure they were real; the literature was scant regarding this sort of vampire but everything led him to believe that whatever was happening, it wasn't being done by a run of the mill alleyway vampire.

His stomach growled just as the thought of it, just as the sconces burned against the siding of the warehouse and illuminated large letters across the water logged wood. KNO3. Ironic, he thought, given that the chemical can, in some forms, be extremely flammable.

"There..." He nodded to the man at one of the loading bays. "He'll show us to the access point."

 

[Wren]

Wren's knowledge of the various strains of vampirism was probably not as broad as his own. She'd been trained to kill them as a Ranger in the Loriden territories, but so far as she knew, they'd only encountered a few different types.

Certainly she'd never heard of his strain before.

She wanted to ask what he thought might be dwelling down there, but suspected if he had an inkling he would have said already. Or maybe just keep it to himself like a rolled up scroll in a pocket for two days. Wren managed an inelegant grunt in reply.

Hazel eyes skated through their darkening surroundings, wincing as a man walked by with a torch held aloft much closer than was comfortable. KNO3. Her grimace deepened, the scarred tissue of her face giving the right side a more beastly appearance than was natural.

"Willingly, I hope."


"Gods you're back," the man at the loading bay nearly leapt out of his skin when he turned to find the pair of them walking up. His eyes whipped from Rainer to Wren and back, "Yeh can't take a woman in there."

"He's not taking me," Wren replied, nodding her head towards Rainer, "I'm taking him."

"What's wrong with yeh lass? Don' yeh knoh what's down there?"

"Some friends, or so I'm told. Get on with it, then."

 

[Rainer]

He wasn't forthcoming out of habit. Even two months wasn't enough to adjust to having someone with him all the time. It was a rare thing for a person of his profession to work with a partner; the life was rife with opportunity for betrayal and deception and cutting people out of the loop. It was easy to become comfortable with a life of loneliness and distrust.

It hadn't occurred to him that Wren might want more than just his general concern.

"Yeah..." Rain replied casually, looking towards the man with a stern gaze. His was a stout figure, wearing pants of black, a shirt of white and red stripes, and a bandanna that might have been white at one time but now looked the color of rust. A large scar ran from the figures cheek to the opposite eyebrow. "I'm afraid of the dark." That may have not been a joke.

The warehouse attendant laughed and shook his head, waving a lit torch over towards the door. "Wah fuck if yer intent on'it, I ain't one for standing in da way. Jus don't blame me when yer on the wrong side ov'it."

"Understood...I think." The mans accent was as thick as a day old roux so there was a legitimate chance that Rainer didn't catch every word. Looking towards Wren, he smirked. "Willingly enough..."

 

[Wren]

Wren planted the man with a sideways glare before making way towards the indicated door. The man called after them about a torch to which she informed him they didn't need it. Yanking the door open she stepped through without a backwards glance. It lead into a broad, underground stone hall distinctly dark and dank with the sound of running water not far ahead.

Underground sewer tunnels were the very last place Wren ever through she'd be hunting down a meal, and yet here she was. The stench was there, lingering, and she suspected it would only get worse. Steps grew slower now, purpose marked by a hunter's care. The hall lead straight, bending just slightly at the end to open at a great cistern with multiple tunnels leading off.

She paused at the tunnel end, peering out and sensing no others nearby. A few sconces gave a fading light from the walls farther down. "This place is a fucking labyrinth," her brow furrowed as she turned a look back to Rain, "got another map of it conveniently hidden on you?"

 

[Rainer]

He almost stopped to grab a torch, despite what Wren might have stated. Torches were a thing they didn't need...until they did. But with their cat eyes and ability to perceive in the dark, fire was nothing more than another way to battle their opponents. And at their current state, it was a double edged sword.

"No, I left that map in my other armor..." He replied pointedly, having realized that if they made their way to the courthouse, a map might have very well been available. But that very act of asking or looking may have drawn unnecessary attention. At the time, it would seem better to simply follow their nose.

Stopping at a sconce, his view narrowed at the sight of the massive cistern. It was a confluence of storm water and privy overflow, running the majority of Elbion sewer waste into the Cairou River. If he concentrated, he could even hear the lapping of the wind against the discharge points that were likely guarded by a grated fence or gate. The sort of security that would prevent opportunists from using the sewer as a system for smuggling in and out of the city, avoiding the port authority.

"Well...the river is that way..." He pointed to his left where a tunnel was formed by large stone columns of granite, sconces spanning the distance into what appeared to be a dark eternity. "So we shouldn't go that way." The cistern was effectively a large pool, webbed by stone archways. Those archways would be their main form of transit. Just as he took a step forward, he heard skittering and splashing.

"You know...some cultures believe that washing and cleansing can remove impurities from the body. And when those impurities wash through large cisterns like this, it can give life to demons and monsters." He looked towards Wren. "Or maybe they congregate here to consume these impurities." He rested a hand on the hilt of his broadsword, moving across the first bridge.

 

[Wren]

She'd never been particularly good at navigating cities like this. Put her in the country, in the mountains, the forests and the deserts. Long stretches of grasslands or, fuck, even the corrupted lands surrounding the Eldyr Tree - her sense of direction and awareness of location rarely failed her.

But here? In this man-made underground cesspool of impurities? Well, you can't be good at everything.

"I defer to your apparent knowledge of all things disgusting and impure," Wren gestured obnoxiously towards the first bridge, "lead the way."

She followed a pace or so behind him, far enough to put her out of direct reach of his sword. They walked for some time, taking care of their own presence as they drew deeper through the tunnels. Various chambers, crosspaths, and exchanges came to pass, giving Wren the notion that she hadn't been wrong when she'd said it was a labyrinth. On more than one occasion they came across what appeared to be storage areas and ladders leading upwards to who-knew-where within the city. It wasn't unlikely that there were also multiple levels to these underground tunnels. Catacombs above interconnecting between major official through-fares. Ways to transport prisoners, shipments, and everything else.

"It occurs to me-" she began in a hushed tone as she shoved a rat off the particularly narrow walkway, "that this goes all the way back to the College. Gods above know what sort of arcane detritus has gotten down here over the centur-"

And, rather suddenly, a waft of a most foul and repugnant odor cut off her words. Wren pressed a hand to her face and held back a wretch.

 

[Rainer]

It wasn't easy working in this business without getting into the muck of things. It surprised him, a bit more than he cared to admit, that he didn't know these sewers better than just a passing fancy. It was a rare occasion to have to delve so deep.

Crossing another bridge, he stopped to respond to her comment when he was hit by the same smell. Nostrils flaring, his view narrowed as shook his head. Placing a hand on Wren's shoulder, he nodded towards a dark corridor. "Detritus and ferality...don't throw up, there's not much left in there now but bile."

They were running on empty a wretch right now would be painful, it not outright defeating. It was a different act for things that persisted on blood. And it didn't matter, the show was about to begin.

Pivoting, he pulled out the sword in a single smooth motion and lowered the blade to the ground. Sidestepping, he moved so that they could occupy the walkway that hugged the interior sewer channel. It had a good deal of play, enough for both to tango if they saw fit.

"Someone had their way with the latrine..." He snarled as he smacked the ground with the tip of the blood, sending an echoing clank down through the length of the cistern. A plop could be heard, just beyond the darkened arch way, followed by foot steps against slick stone. "We can smell you from here..." It was almost overwhelming, particularly for those with such a keen sense of smell.

A pair of yellow eyes opened in the darkness. And then another...and another...

 

[Wren]

"Aumf-" Wren staggered along the walkway, one hand at her mouth and the other rapidly searching for the wall to steady herself against. She bent at the middle, wincing at the painful feeling of an empty stomach churning in protest against the retched smell wafting through the air.

It was palpable - waste and rot and decay - and it was a problem.

"I-" another wretch, a groan, the sound of her fist punching at the wall as she tried with concerted effort to wrangle her body through its rejection, "I'm fine ... I-"

Those eyes appeared and she didn't see them.

"Gods above - it burns," weh.

 

[Rainer]

His vision narrowed. The first sound of vomit didn't catch him off guard. Admittedly, he had seen her down all manner of drink and fight off all forms of beasts at his side. Even before the change, before she had become a member of his cursed tribe, he had never seen her wretch. But to be in the face of danger, facing down an oncoming nest, he could excuse it for an outlier that lied within the realm of possible.

But another wretch. Something wasn't right.

The Vampires moved out from the shadowy path and into the light of the nearby sconce, licking flames against blackened granite. They winced in response, lifting clawed fingers to shadow their demonic eyes.

He scowled, knowing that breaking the cardinal rule of combat could lend itself to misfortune. But he couldn't do this alone, he had to turn away from them. "Wren..." Was it a spell or was it something else? A sickness or a sensitivity? The smell was strong but it was nothing worse than an overfilled latrine. But she didn't respond to the first call. He turned, growling and showing the sharpened canines of the Vedymin. "If you keep at it, you'll turn yourself inside out!" He wasn't sure of that, but he hadn't seen anything like this before.

No response.

Anger welled up in him as he slashed upwards, smacking the stone with the sharpened metal and sending a shower of sparks outward. Just then, he caught her attention, as she lifted sunken Hazel eyes to meet his gaze. She had the look of confusion that could only be expected from bodily functions that were clearly not under control. He wondered how confused she might have been as his other hand leaped out, hand curled into a fist, as he cracked a punch square against the broad side of her nose. He felt it snap.

"Snap out of it! I need you...here! With me!"

The sound of the punch was only echoed by clawed feet, running down the channel and approaching them with disturbing speed.

 

[Wren]

POW.

Wren had not the opportunity yet to be purposefully assaulted by the man. Knew he was strong, had seen him fighting off hordes of beasts and monsters alongside her, had taken a few glancing blows from wide swings during frenzied forays.

Never a direct hit.

One moment she felt the painful lurch of her stomach pressing for another round, the next she was seeing stars - the smell fully forgotten by both body and mind. She reeled, stumbled backwards with a yelp and landed in a graceless pile on the walkway behind her. The surge of creatures was immediately upon them.

 

[Rainer]

Landing on her ass was a good deal better than dealing with the pools of bile ejecting from her lips. While he would have enjoyed the opportunity to apologize about the necessity of things, they simply didn't have the luxury of time. Instead, he had the time to pivot, dragging the blade from the wall, as a vampire slashed razor sharp claws across the stone where his hand use to be.

Pulling the blade upwards and horizontal, another caught the blade where they had intended to lock teeth against his neck. A growl escaped his lips as he charged forward, pressing his freehand against the blade of the broadsword and pushing hard, flinging the vampire away and slashing outward, nipping another to his right across the length of their chest.

It stumbled back and he methodically stepped back, licking at the edge of the en garde blade. Dropping the sword to a low guard, he extracted one of the balls of the meteor hammer from his hip and began to twirl. A whistle grew slowly from the revolutions.

"All right, you pieces of shit...all together now. I don't have all day." He had experienced feral vampires in the past. Some were vulnerable to the high pitched noises of the meteor hammer. While these particular beasts weren't running, they seemed to be momentarily stunned. Surely enough time for Wren to kick the stars free and join him.

He'd hate to have to eat this meal without her. Or die in the sewers of Elbion.

 

[Wren]

There were strange noises escaping the woman's mouth, something caught between a loud, rough snarl and a gurgle. Deep red gushed from her broken nose, slicking across the front of her face and armor. The loss was making her hunger spike painfully, but at the very least she could no longer smell the stench of the sewer and its occupants.

"GWWEEEHHH-" strings of coagulating blood hung from her nose and mouth like the drool of a starving hound, catching against the back of her hand as she swiped it over her face. Fists rolled at her sides, she smashed them downwards into the walkway, using the power of her strike to lift her figure from the ground as if pulled up by ropes. Two small craters remained.

Welp, now she was fucking pissed. And hungry. Was hangry a thing yet?

Metal rang and a bright blue gleam filled the tunnel as she unsheathed her elven sword, now aglow in reaction to the evil surrounding them. Fingers gripping the hilt, pointed teeth gnashing over a growl, she moved in behind Rainer to take up the overflow of the encroaching horde.

 

[Rainer]

He didn't need to turn around to know what was happening. He could smell the transition from stomach bile to blood. It was clearly anemic, like tasting tones of corroded copper. It stood as profound contrast to the blood he had just licked clean from his blade, returning a bit of blush to his cheek. The single droplets were enough to set his heart racing after over two days of not eating.

The elven sword cast a glow that stretched across the slick stones of the cistern side walk. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I don't think these are good guys." The blade sometimes seemed redundant in cases like this but it was nice to have the extra lighting. And it wasn't like Wren could turn the thing off.

One of the vampires jumped high, nearly scraping the roof where a previous arch support had broken many years ago. Rainer brought the blade in close to his thigh and twirled the meteor hammer, crossing over to his left before twirling his body. As he made a full revolution, the ball shot out and smacked the vampire hard in the chest. The force sent the vampire flying into the ceiling of the cistern as Rainer pulled it back, catching it in his open hand.

The vampire hit the ground and didn't seem to immediately get up. Flaring his nostrils, he caught a whiff of ash in the air.

"They're susceptible to silver." Never safe to assume that, particularly given their own immunity. The confirmation was helpful.

Another charged and he looked back towards Wren. "I'll distract them. You get to the fallen one and feed. You've already lost too much blood."

 

[Wren]

Red stained the mixture of greens and browns and gold within Wren's eyes, a sure enough sign that her bloodlust had gotten to her. They tracked the movements of the first vampire from charge to hit to arc to ground, the sickening thwek setting a jolt of electricity down her spine.

He didn't have to tell her twice. Fuck, he didn't have to tell her at all. Wren was on that fallen lech like vultures to a fresh carcass. She crossed the distance at an alarming rate, trailing the gleam of her sword like a wisp of afterlife. It was still alive, but in its dazed condition it hadn't a chance against her grip. Fingers flexing around its neck, Wren heaved it from the floor to sink her fangs into its nape, fully submerging the pointed teeth while it squirmed and screeched - its own skin burning against the silver of her armor.

 

[Rainer]

Eyes of burnt brass shifted away, for a moment, from the vampires to the woman. She was teetering on the edge of rage, something not entirely surprising given her age and wounds. As he felt the heat enter her body, the spread of blood across her ears and cheekbones, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of envy come over him. It wasn't enough for her to consume and be well, he needed satiation.

He charged, strapping the free head of the meteor hammer to his hip in one smooth action. One of the feral vampires caught wind of the outpouring of blood, laid eyes upon the armored woman and the comrade she consumed, and stepped back a single pace. Rainer sensed fear from that one, something edging towards intelligence. But the other wasn't encumbered by such thoughts and charged in mirror to the hunter.

As they neared, the beast struck at chest height and Rainer dodged swiftly, cutting to the side. Driving his foot downward, he stomped the vamps knee and caused him to spin. Before the vampire could do anything else, Rainer had jabbed the sword into his side and his teeth into the back of his neck. Rainer swallowed deeply and took in the fresh metallic taste, breathing slowly as he felt the body of the vampire go limp.

Lifting his gaze to the last of the three, he felt a ping across his forehead. Like something knocking on a door, many distances down a hallway. And a voice came with that knock...

Veeeeeeeeeddddddymin...