In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
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[attr="class","shadowsTitle"] INT [break] Civilians
[attr="class","shadowsBody"]
[attr="class","shadowsHead"] The Break of Dawn
Whether the decision was made to stake the woman or to cure her, the group no longer need to focus their attention on her, meaning they can now send you after the person they know to be the vampire that bit her in the first place. A man going by the name of Waylon that recently moved into a house on the outskirts of town that frequently wanders about at night is to be your target. Either wait for him to do what he does best, which is to wander around town and outside of town, or approach him inside of his home. Whatever the case might be, be prepared for a fight.
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[attr="class","shadowsSub"]Details
Maximum Number of Players: 3 [break]Minimum Word Count: 2500 [break]Location: Kiten [break]Special Requirements: When you approach Waylon outside of his home, he will make an attempt at running away from you towards the safety of his own home. Barring the door behind him, it will become hard to enter without breaking the door down. When approaching him inside of his home, he will try to defend himself, believing YOU to be a vampire that has come to kill him just like they killed his wife. Do your best to defend yourself, but do not kill Waylon as he has important information to share.
[attr="class","shadowsSub"]NPC Information
What NPCs are in this mission? Please fill out the template for any notable NPCs. While those you have to socially interact with during the mission are not required, any enemy that is presented in the mission must be listed here.
Health Limit: Senior [break]Physical Speed: 5 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Senior [break]Magic Element and Types: Fire | Restraining | Attack Creation [break]Combat Style: Waylon fights with a silver stake in one hand, and fire magic in the other. Capable of quickly switching up offensive fire spells with a few quick jabs from his stabbing weapon, he always aims for the heart, knowing this to be the weak point of any vampire, no matter how old or powerful they might be. His spells are focused on restraining and burning his targets alive. [break]Additional Information: Waylon originally came to Kiten to buy a home where he would be able to live with his soon-to-be wife, a native of Kiten. Shortly after moving in, however, he had become threatened by the very thing he had been seeking out before he went into retirement, a Vampire. As such, he had been frequently moving around town to see if there was to be any vampiric activity, though he seemed to always arrive too late.
Floating in a tub filled with hot water and what were undoubtedly bath salts and herbs, Gawain started recuperating from the wounds he had taken in the forest of witches. The teeth belonging to the creature that had sank them into his sides still left visible marks, though he could feel how this bath was really doing wonders to his body, not to mention his mental state. Something about the warm water, the nice scents and the fact that he could just lay here for however long he wanted made him feel a lot better, not even mentioning the fact that he was actually recuperating. When he had gone out seeking a bath and a healer, most people had initially looked at him funny. However, when he lied and said that it was by order of the mayor and would also be paid for by the man, people had flocked to him so they might score points with their town leader.
Having showered him with kind words and empty promises, Gawain had been around salesmen, con men and actual raiders long enough to know when someone was boasting, lying or actually speaking a factual truth. Based on that, he knew how to maneuver around most of the con artists to find the one woman who actually seemed to know what she was doing. It was the whole reason why he had come here and dipped his naked ass into the tub in the first place. The medicinal herb bath she had promised him was most certainly feeling like it did its job, as he could actually see the filth being drawn out of his wound with his own two eyes. It was quite odd to see one’s wounds closing so fast ones eyes could actually perceive it, not to mention the strange tingling sensation he felt in that portion of his body as it did so.
It was clear to Gawain that this was not just the work of medicinal herbs and hot water, there was magic involved here, there had to be. Whether the bath tub was actually a magic item or some kind of relic from bygone days, there was something in this room projecting the kind of magic that aided him in closing the bite wound he had sustained from the aquatic monster. Even now as he thought back on it, it bothered him that that thing had managed to slip past his detection, and that he had been so foolish as to just step into shallow waters without actually knowing what was down there. It was the kind of mistake one might make, only to never recover from it because they ended up dead. Luckily for him, the initial strike had been nowhere near powerful enough to defeat him, and now served as a valuable lesson he would not soon forget, and yet another reason to keep pushing himself to do better and become more powerful.
Knowing exactly what he was going to need to be doing next, it was likely a good thing he had gotten his wounds seen to first. Both because he had no idea how dangerous a wound like that was, had no clue about what the creature’s bite could do on the short and the long term nor whether he would need to be fighting soon or not. But as it were, fighting seemed like it was a given, especially so if this man he was after turned out to be the vampire that had been racking up a rather serious amount of infamy within the town. By this time, one would imagine someone might have seen something that might have been useful to the cause of capturing and disposing the creature. For some reason, it seemed hard for him to believe the only credible thing these people had been hearing had been how a commoner living near the edge of town was the one who had done the woman and several others in.
Having soaked for a few more minutes than he really felt he needed, Gawain got dressed and headed out after thanking the woman for her hard work in healing his wounds and keeping them from getting infected or worse. Truly feeling revitalized and fresh as a daisy, the boy began making his way back to the estate where he had left the group of men behind, angry and close to combusting. It wasn’t every day that someone walked out on them because they had something to do and somewhere more important to be. But at the end of the day, Gawain truly believed that he would be able to do his job a whole lot better if he were restored to his regular self, free of wounds and any pesky infections that might make it difficult for him to move around and wield his magic as potently as usual.
Letting the people in charge know that he was all fixed up and ready to go again, the first thing the mayor did was scold him for walking out while he was in the middle of a sentence. It went to show that this man was not used to people who had a personal view on things that they were willing to express, meaning he was the kind of leader Gawain considered dangerous. He had only seen a leader such as this before, which was back in Skjaergard on the isle of Grýnd. The leader and self-proclaimed king of all Villtsung was an incredibly powerful and skilled warrior wielding magical weaponry and an imbued suit of armor above the level of any other warrior on the island, or perhaps the entire archipelago of islands. It was said that both had been created by the giants that had lived there before the Villtsung killed them and took the island for themselves.
Even now, the capital was a place that sat amidst the bones of fallen giants, their mead hall being made out of one of the tallest giants they had felled, dubbing the place Ragnvald’s Fall. Sitting on his throne within the mead hall that overlooked the entire island, King Njord called all of the shots. He left no room for error, as every man that told him something he did not wish to hear or had instructed him poorly got beheaded by his own axe. Because no one wanted to be killed in the middle of the mead hall for all to be seen and ridiculed before having their beheaded corpse dumped in the mire, no one ever told the king that his ideas were wrong or flawed. So while he doubted the fact that the mayor would behead people, there was still something to be said about someone using their political power in order to destroy those they disliked for whatever reason. And this man, he gave off the vibe that he hadn’t been told he was wrong in decades.
“You know what ‘Mayor’, I think I’ll be taking half of what you’ve promised now and the other half once I’m done. The fact that you’d sooner let me bleed to death in the streets trying to capture a creature you yourself are too incapable to capture doesn’t exactly fill me with the kind of trust that you’ll pay me at all once I’m done. Hell, I doubt you’ll even acknowledge me to begin with. So either you pay me half now, or I walk.”
Following up on his words, a silence fell over the room as no one seemed to know what to say. The man called Stanard, who had apparently finished brewing his antidote just stood there, looking across the table while trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. The mayor himself had turned more and more red by the second, seemingly reaching a point of actually having his head explode. And then there was Aronil, the noble who had been advocating for them to kill the woman before she became a vampire, who seemed to rather enjoy this turn of events. Grinning from ear to ear, he used the sleeve of his coat to hide the fact that he was quite impressed by the boy’s moxy and in enjoyment of the mayor being put on blast for all to see.
“Fine, you can take twenty percent of the payment now and the rest after, but not a penny more. Now get out there, find Waylon and bring him to me. I don’t care if you have to break his bones to get here, just do it. And if you do come back here empty handed, I’ll see to it that you’re the one who has his bones broken. Now get out.”
In an attempt at saving face in front of his colleagues and respected fellow nobles, the mayor placed a document and a satchel of coins on the large table for Gawain to take. On it was all of the information they had on Waylon, including a picture of what he had looked like at the time, which was more or less everything the boy needed and more. Wondering what army the mayor was going to bring in in order to break his bones if he failed, Gawain decided not to push the man any further, lest he broke and actually tried to make true on his words. Putting the money into his pocket and memorizing the information and the picture, the boy could really only hope that the man still looked like he did here if he had any hopes of finding him. One thing seemed like a given though, stopping by his house to see if he was actually there was the first thing he should even attempt at doing.
And so, the ashen haired teen made his way from the mayor’s mansion to where this Waylon was supposed to be living. Crossing through streets that were still being patrolled by angry citizens holding torches and whatever kinds of weapons they could get their hands on around the house, some had seemingly gotten creative. Spotting kitchen knives, gardening shears and even what seemed like the legs of a chair fashioned into stakes, this militia was just about ready to strike. At this point, the only real question wasn’t so much if they were armed enough, it was whether or not their conscience and bravery would allow for them to strike at a supposed vampire. If they did somehow manage to corner an ‘actual’ vampire, Gawain imagined a lot of people would die before the creature would be brought low and inevitably felled. If nothing else, the least he could try to do was avoid it… for a fair compensation of course.
Before long, the boy arrived in the street that would lead up to Waylon’s supposed home. Finding the outskirts of town to be surprisingly empty, he imagined most of the militia would have formed around the innermost portion of town, closer to where their own homes were. Such was usually the way of people. They didn’t think about the fact that a vampire might need to sneak in from outside of town and could now get victims even easier, they didn’t spread to the point where every street was moderately protected or at the very least watched by two or three people. No, their shortsightedness left over half of the town in danger, condemned by their own stupidity. So when the boy wandered the streets alone and ran into a hooded figure, every sense inside of him went into overdrive. If this was to be the vampire, prowling the streets by his lonesome, then he would need to do whatever he could to put a stop to it.
Closing the distance between them as he approached him from behind, the hooded figure turned, showing a pair of eyes that seemed more confused and afraid rather than like those of a hunter looking for prey. Stopping in his tracks, Gawain did not lower his guard for even a moment, knowing that doing that might be his undoing. It wasn’t until the hooded figure turned around fully to show what he looked like that the mage got the idea that this was in fact the person he had been trying to find, the one called Waylon. Calling out to him by name and claiming that the mayor had asked him to locate the man for him, he seemed spooked by the very request, or maybe just by the fact that this boy knew his name. Turning around and beginning to make a run for the safety of his home, he left Gawain with no options but to try and catch up and stop him.
Dashing off, Gawain didn’t go for a path that would allow him to intercept the man as that might cause him to lash out in violent self defense. Instead, Gawain made for the house that the man was running to, intending to reach the front door and cut off his means of escape. If the man still wanted to lash out against him by then, it meant he was willing to break down his own home in the attempt. In his own personal opinion, this seemed like the kind of thing that would give most people pause, given how expensive it was to own a home, let alone rebuilding a broken one or buying an entirely new one. Not making the mistake of sticking to the beaten path, the boy swiftly made his way over to the front door and blocked it with every bit of weight his small frame packed.
“Hold it right there. Unless you want your home to be caught in the crossfire and become collateral damage, I suggest you hear me out. I was sent to make sure whether or not you were the vampire terrorizing these streets, and put you down if you were. So please, do not give me a reason.”
As he spoke, winds began to slowly spiral around him. While they themselves could not be seen with the naked eye, they could very much be felt as the smaller pebbles along the side of the road began moving with the direction of the swirl. With his eyes glowing with a faint jade hue, it was clear that Gawain was a mage that was very much ready to defend himself if he needed to, a fact about himself he wouldn’t bother hiding from anyone. Keeping his eyes locked on the man, Gawain began utilizing his Ki now that he was in front of the man’s home, figuring he wouldn’t need to do any further running now that his safe space was barred by his presence. Having said what he wanted to say, the boy would wait as it was the only thing he could now. If the man decided to lash out against him after his honest take on the situation, there was nothing else to it but to strike back, and strike back hard.
Judging by the man’s body language, it seemed that he had come to understand the precarious situation he found himself in now. Dropping his shoulders and getting into a somewhat more relaxed stance, Gawain could tell that he was still very much on edge, but knew that at this point, if Gawain had wanted to attack him or destroy his home, he would have tried to do so already. This was good, as it might allow them to dissuade this whole situation, or so he hoped, though what he was told next was not something he could have anticipated even if he had tried with all of his might. As it turned out, the man seemed to be aware of quite a few things regarding the attacks, perhaps more than all of the people in the mayor’s mansion did. At the very least, he knew more than the ashen haired mage boy did. On the other hand, there seemed to also be a thing or two that he had as of yet remained unaware of. Though that would change soon enough.
“You believe me to be the vampire? That’s quite rich, considering how you’ve all been tricked by the one responsible for all of this. Tell me, have they buried my wife yet? Or has she become one of the missing ‘victims’ like so many before her.”
“I’m not sure if we’re talking about the same person, but the woman who was bitten by the vampire was kept within the mayor’s estate for safety reasons. It was debated to have her killed before she could turn, but I managed to find the ingredients needed to procure an antidote, which Stanard administered to her. She should be fine and waking up any moment.”
“You say all that, yet you left her in the belly of the beast alongside that bastard Aronil! He’s the vampire you fool! Take me to him right now!”
Not expecting this sudden outburst, Gawain looked around to make sure no one had seen or heard them, what with the militia patrolling the streets looking for potential vampiric activity. Not wanting the two of them to get caught, the boy gestured at him to keep his voice down. In truth, his mind was still going over the possibilities and implications of all of this mess that they had found themselves in. When he thought about it, Aronil had been the person pushing the hardest for the afflicted woman to be put out of her misery, as he called it. At first, he believed that the man was just another frightened noble that wished to have one less potential vampire roaming the streets of his town. But now that he thought about it, if they had cured her and she came to, she would have been the only person in the room that could point him out as the culprit.
Right now, Gawain wondered what they might find if they managed to make their way back to the estate. The chances were that Aronil might have killed everyone inside before running away, though he might also just be there waiting for them to return so he could have a go at killing them all at the same time. Or maybe he might have just disappeared altogether, sensing the imminent danger that he was in if Waylon were to survive and make it back to the estate unscathed. As such, he gestured at the man to follow him, trying to get the both of them back to the estate without any of the patrolling civilians seeing them skulking in the shadows. As there was no real way of knowing what they might do to Waylon if they caught wind of him, Gawain assumed it to be the best possible thing to keep him hidden from sight.
Because while he knew that no one would have leaked the information regarding the man as being the vampire to avoid panic, Aronil very well might have. Just to be safe. Making their way over to the estate as quickly as they could, Gawain gestured at the two guards in front of the door to move aside. Not quite sure whether they should or not, the fact that the boy had been in and out with clear orders several times now made for just enough trust to let the both of them pass through. With his mana ready and willing, the boy was ready to destroy Aronil if it turned out that he was in fact the vampire. Right now, only time would tell how they would all come out of this next encounter.
