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[Caellath]

Valenor had been on the prowl around the streets for a couple of hours to no avail. Wondering how Genevieve had been faring, he decided to check on her, walking in his calm pace while keeping alert to any criminal scum he could feed on. It didn't take long and he saw her through the windows of a tavern.

The vampiress seemed to be radiating, and it was not difficult to know the reason. She was in her environment, tricking the innocent only to take their lives. This night, she was trying to destroy the existence of a simple, rough man; her gestures and body language showed without doubt she had started her game of seduction. If the man fell for it, she would enjoy him and then drink his blood.

Valenor sighed and kept walking, swinging his cane. From time to time, his mind was riddled with doubts about what existed between both vampires. He wondered if it was possible to salvage any humanity from the husk of the monster who hunted for the weak and the lonely during the night before it was too late.

The young male was more human than her, and that could be his undoing.

Genevieve seemed to sate her desires, whilst Valenor refused to any act he considered vile or unfit. She talked about loneliness and their time together, but constantly sought others.

And he had doubts about what she called love. He never told her about the event that made the vampire who lived with him - and taught him everything he needed to know to survive - leave. She herself had never properly explained the happenings involving the vampire who had turned her. Deep inside, Valenor knew that she still had something akin to an obsession for the one who gave her the curse. If her first vampire appeared, would her feelings for Valenor be steady or would they be blown away by the strength of the past?

"Ahahahaha..." The young, elegant man resumed his search. Maybe their destiny together would be burning in real Hell, both of them killed by hunters who didn't discriminate between both types of predator. And maybe his torn heart accepted a harsh truth. She was a monster, and he was a fake hero; one day he could finally be broken a second time...And this time, nothing would be able to save him.

[Dwarmin]

Genevieve saw what she thought was Valenor-a single pained glance through the tavern window-and he was gone. As a rule, out of whatever sort of ritual they enjoyed between them, they usually did not interrupt each others feedings-though she might show a rare mercy if he was present, and Valenor could certainly be less than picky if someone was trying to harm her. They had not been truly tested yet.

True to her 'profession', she merely continued the game-feeding on the boys insecurities and weaknesses, as surely as she would his blood tonight.

The prey seemed to be coming around to her, slowly. Subtle shifts in body language. A certain raw, wild scent. He had begun idly twirling the gold pendant on his neck-a symbol of whoever he chose to bond himself to, most likely-and these were good signs.

But she was increasingly distracted by the thought of Valenor. She could be hunting with him now, couldn't she? Maybe this poor boy deserved another night of life...the night could hold pleasure for the both of them. Genevieve was not against hunting prey both weak and guilty. Leaning against him, hands intertwined-the smell of the night, the shadows around them cold and cool...

...Her mind tried to wheedle and excuse, to establish a toehold for a show of mercy, but she hardened herself against it. It was a close thing, though, and the mark might have known-or perhaps he would confuse it with her elaborate fiction. (at least half fiction-some of it was real).

She doubted Valenor knew the struggle he put her through-just with a glance. Of course, to admit these feelings...well, that could never happen. What was love to her? She didn't know. Genevieve was lonely, even in a sea of people-she was apart from them, no matter the airs she put on-she was always alone. Valenor made her feel less lonely, even a spark of something she thought could be happiness. Simply put, Valenor made her feel again. Were these feelings a lingering shred humanity trying to reassert itself? She didn't know.

Sometimes she thought about killing Valenor. Cold, but true. The predator inside of her all but demanded it, at times-he was hurting her, making her feel. So, she should destroy him. What stopped her?

The paradox they both faced, actually. The most logical end of their dance.

Genevieve could attack-possibly kill-Valenor. And she would be alone, forever-for better or worse, she wanted Valenor or no one. But she would be free from the pain he caused her. Free to hunt without her heart's husk scratching away.

Likewise-Valenor could kill her. She wondered if the thought occured to him. He would then be alone, but she thought he might find another. By destroying his own kind-breaking the single, irrevocable law of Vampirekind-the path he would set himself on, would be one of hunting monsters like she was-ironically, earning his own salvation through her destruction...

...

Though she did not dwell on thoughts of her First Vampire tonight-the Progenitor-her thoughts were never far from him. What little she knew was that he was of the Sombra line, tricksters and seducers. He had turned her without the usual difficulties-which suggested he as an older Vampire. He could change his form, maybe. Genevieve remembered watching him change from a young man...into something else. She also remembered fighting, and stabbing him with a meat fork, for all the good it had done-lead and not silver.

She did not why she had chosen to seek him out. He had spent but a night with her-and given her the eternity of the gift. It was said your maker had power over you, and Genevieve wondered if he was calling to her-enticing her. Sometimes she dreamed of finding him, and making herself as a Dark Queen by his side-covering the world in unending night, rows or courtiers before her throne, on their knees, necks bared for her pleasure.

But, when she would look at the royal figure seated aside her, she would see only...Valenor. And then she would wake up.

[Dwarmin]

~bump bump bump~

[Caerwyn]

Man, the RTD forums is stagnantly dead.

Seems like it'll be this way for a while...That's really sad.

Guess real-life affairs are keeping people busy, huh. But not me! I check back around a dozen times daily.

[IronyOwl]

Turn 3: Rudeness and Thugs

Spoiler: Map (click to show/hide)

Valenor sighs. A goat? His hunt has been proving terribly sad and fruitless so far.

Keep searching for a hardy criminal, feed on him.

[5]

"Well, well, well," a voice calls from behind you, accompanied by a slow slapping sound. You turn to find a brute with a smug expression on his face, slowly slapping a wooden club against his open palm.

"Looks like we got a pretty boy out late tonight, don't we? Howsabout you puts all your valuables on the ground 'fore I club em out o' you?"

[1] vs [2] You lunge at him and trip, while he stumbles back, flailing wildly in surprise. He quickly snarls in anger, however, and comes at you with the club.

[2] vs [6] His club hits the ground where you just where, while you hit the ground several paces away from that, grunting and rolling in an awkward landing.

+2 Dodging
Dodging 1 Acquired

Action: On-with the seduction-my last gaining trust roll gives me a bonus, maybe? If successful, get him to a quiet Inn, enjoy our time together, and feast while he drowses. Don't use Hypnotism here.

[1+1-1] "Wh- I'm not waiting for her, she left me!" the man cried out indignantly. "And you talk about... what, being selfish, being with someone you don't love, like that's some noble goal?! Get away from me, you harlot!"

He storms out of the inn. Apparently you misunderstood the situation... and gave the wrong phrasing to the wrong person. A pity.

"I assume that you're the priest of this particular mission? Could you tell me about your saints?"
Enquire about the mans religion, hoping to find out about the various saints and their symbols. Make sure to remember them.

[2] "Certainly! Oh, but before I forget, would you like to make a donation?" he says, gesturing like a shifty merchant to a nearby alms box.

You lack coin, so you doubt this'll end politely.

"Well thank you kind Merchant, I bid you a fond farewell!"
Polypthemus firmly shakes the merchants hand and prepares to depart
>Polythemus head towards Loraine and look for some country bumpkins  to snack on, while traveling he reviews what he read.

[3] You sound a bit rude as you take your leave, but hopefully not suspiciously so.

[2] You discover no tasty snacks on your way to Lorraine.

Barkhorn will do whatever it is that the brute wants. Let's get it done!

[1] His sister invites you to tea. You trip over the table, smashing the teapot and crushing one of her dollies.

[5+3] vs [3] Turns out she's pretty good with a cane.

-5 HP

Vunkel nodded his bald head in agreement.
"Yes, it is our duty to spread the Lord's word even to such isolated folk. I will glady accompany you a ways."

>Travel with the nuns awhile, waiting for a chance to ditch them and feed at one of those camps they mentioned.

[2] You continue traveling with the nuns, but they neglect to stop off anyplace civilized while they're out.

They arrive at a white statue in the middle of the woods and pray for a while. You pretend to join them, secretly thinking about how to feast on the weak.

"Thank you Hecellia, expect your reagents before dawn."

Head towards the Forest of Woe, and examine the surroundings for any sign of foliage, including listening for any other signs of movement.

Now what would share a preference for darkness and death?...

Oh wait.

Go sneaky.

[1] You creep along silently, then step on a twig. It doesn't break, but does rustle a leaf nearby, causing you to yelp and break into a panicked screaming run.

A moment later you realize that's both silly and bad.

[3] A silhouette with glowing eyes stares at you from some trees, sniffing the air. It seems... disappointed, almost, like it's really hoping you'll turn out to be a ham after all.

[3] Stalkers and failed stealth aside, you discover some examples of nightsbane, but nothing big enough to count as a sample. It definitely grows here, though.

"ah guess if ya want sumfin done right, ya gotta do it yoself," Annette quips to the non-compliant birds.


Annette heads off alone, tracking her potential prey using only her heightened senses

[3] You discover a duo walking alone on the road. They've got leather cloaks, so it's hard to tell much about them.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Iustitia Ombibus (Spinal_Taper)
Lower Farms, Church
10/10 HP
Shapeshifting 1


Valenor Imanahan (Caellath)
Crossroads, Thug
20/20 HP
1 Dodge
Everlasting Body 1
Dodging 1


Leandrio Nexere (Tiruin)
Forest of Woe, Stalker
10/10 HP
Plague 1


Barkhorn (Caerwyn)
Underworld, Ruined Tea Party
5/10 HP
Charm 1


Lady Genevieve Le Sombra (Dwarmin)
Crossroads, Inn
10/10 HP
Hypnotism 1


Polythemus (UltraValican)
Lower Farms
10/10 HP
Perfect Sight 1


Annette Le Roy (agentorangesoda)
Crossroads, Road
10/10 HP
Wildkin 1

Vunkel Von Vonhome (Yoink)
Lightshade Forest, Nuns
10/10 HP
Unnatural Mobility 1

[UltraValican]

"Dammit, I'm getting hungrier by the second. Reminds me of the good ole days of fasting when I was a monk..."
>Look for anything to eat, provided it doesen't have anything pointy on it or with it.

[Spinal_Taper]

Try to look more angelic/repentant, take clues from the art around. Then offer the gilded robe Iustitia currently wears in lieu of coin, as he spent his money on the robe in a fit of sin. He wants to learn about salvation, and whether their god can save his soul.

[Caerwyn]

Barkhorn will nurse himself back to tip-top shape. If needed, try and charm somebody (Something?) into helping him.

[Dwarmin]

Genevieve slipped from the bar with a scowl, lest she attract any more attention. Morals. They made her job so...difficult. But she was still hungry. And Her prey did not escape that easily...

She glided after him easily-his stumbling night gait easily matched by her smooth glide.

He still desired another woman. He wanted to be taken care of? Genevieve would give the man someone to pine for. She would beg his forgiveness. Genevieve willed her eyes to produce tears, a womans weapon in many ways.

His heart was strong, but how was his soul?

Action: Catch up to the boy and try to bring him back around to me. Bring on the fake tears and sobs. Use a bit of Hypnotism if I calm him down, to invoke the emotion of pity.

[Caellath]

Valenor grunted a little as his fine clothing was dirtied after he dodged the thug's attack. The vampire stood up, and started to dust himself off with a calm expression with one hand after spinning his gentleman's cane nonchalantly with the other, as if he wasn't in any danger. As any good cane, his probably had a hidden steel blade. He lifted one of his eyebrows and smirked, confident in his ability to defeat the man bare-handed.

The vampire's eyes focused on the man ahead of him as he finished dusting himself off; he had more clothes, but if he didn't keep his composure, he'd fail to attract more criminals after he was done with this one...He wondered if Genevieve was still keeping her game of seduction going or she had been taken down a notch by her target, which of course would prompt her to take more drastic measures...Valenor closed his eyes, smiling humorously. She really hated to lose, after all.

Feed on the man.

If a little fighting is in order to be able to feed on him, then let's try martial arts. Disarm him then kick his knee to bend it the wrong way.

[Tiruin]

((XD

Was wondering what would've happened if I hadn't chosen to sneak...))

Leandrio felt his heart racing, he nearly scared himself silly, including wetting himself - with water, of course. The numerous puddles nearby were...very wet.

Those eyes, probably belonged to one of the denizens of the place, was it sentient?

"Nightsbane grows here, but where do they grow abundantly and to a large size...?"

Sneak deeper into the forest. Watch the canopies for anything harmful.

[agentorangesoda]

Two travellers in cloaks. They could very well have been hunters. The night was still young and it did not pay to be careless.

Annette has them set upon and threatened by wolves to determine their capabilities. If they appear well within her capabilities, Annette will pounce upon the weakest, like a lioness does to a herd of zebra. If they are dangerous, she will continue searching, but further into the woods.

[Yoink]

'Blast.' Vunkel seethed inwardly as he prayed along with his travelling companions, torn between his hunger and his unwillingness to feed on the nuns. The former was slowly taking precedence, but his remaining shreds of humanity decided on one last gamble...

"Agh, Sisters, I am feeling quite unwell," He groaned after a particularly strenuous bout of prayer, pretending to wipe fever-sweat from his brow as he spoke in a rather feeble voice. "I am not sure if... If I am injured, still, or if it's just... The journey taking its toll. Is there somewhere nearby, a village or such, where you could leave me? I would rather not slow down your honourable journey with my illness, especially not after the kindess... You have shown me."
He covered his mouth and gave a hoarse cough, putting on quite an act of looking weak, yet determined not to cause his companions trouble.

>Play sick, try and get the nuns to drop me off in a nearby settlement. Once they're out of sight, start sizing up any potential meals.