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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Learning that Waylon is in fact not the vampire, he agrees to return with you to the group inside Kiten. When you arrive, however, it seems that one of the members is missing. When you explain the situation to the group, Waylon will make it known that the one he believed to be the vampire was in fact a member of their group called Aronil, the very same person who believed it wiser to stake the bite victim rather than trying to cure her. After some quick conversing, it was believed that Aronil ventured into the elven ruins in the foothills outside of town where he works as an archaeologist. With Waylon at your side, you are to head down into the ruins and put an end to Aronil… as well as the coven he has created.
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[attr="class","shadowsSub"]Details
Maximum Number of Players: 3 [break]Minimum Word Count: 3500 [break]Location: Kiten [break]Special Requirements: Depending on whether or not you killed the vampire victim, Waylon will make it known that this woman was/is his wife and that this was likely the reason why Aronil wanted her to put her to the stake as a means of keeping her from talking. Heading down into the ruins with you, you will encounter several women and children that have been turned into vampires, serving as some kind of distorted version of the family Aronil lost so many years ago. As they are all beyond redemption, they must all be put down along with Aronil, the master vampire himself.
[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: 10 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.
Health Limit: Senior [break]Physical Speed: 10 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Senior [break]Magic Element and Types: N/a [break]Combat Style: These women and children that were turned into vampires have not yet learned how to tap into their vampiric powers, knowing only how to use their fangs and claws in order to draw blood. With their physical power and speed being well above that of the people they once were, they are quite dangerous, if not incredibly feral. [break]Additional Information:
Health Limit: Grand [break]Physical Speed: 15 m/s [break]Physical Damage: Grand [break]Magic Element and Types: Blood/Acid | Attack Creation, Physical Reinforcement & Healing [break]Combat Style: Utilizing his razor-sharp claws to cut and pierce his opponents as one might with a blade, Aronil is incredibly fast for someone so old. Kept fresh by the blood he drinks, he also utilizes blood magic to restore his wounds while also capable of converting them into acidic darts that he can fire at his opponents. All things considered, his speed, physical power and his ability to heal from quite a lot of damage makes him a very difficult opponent. [break]Additional Information: Having lived for centuries, Aronil may very well be the last true elf, existing since the time before humans and elves mingled, causing their bloodline to be watered down through many, many generations. When his kind first fought against the demons, he and his kin had been cursed with what would later come to be known as Vampirism. Over the next centuries, his people fed primarily on livestock, doing their best not to kill or infect other people with their curse. However, when the townsfolk rose up after catching wind of their activities, all but himself were put to the stake or burned on a pyre, leaving him alone for too many years to count. After waking from a long slumber, he rose from the same elven ruins he now calls his lair while trying to create a new family out of the inhabitants of Kiten.
Barging into the building with Waylon in tow, Gawain stepped into the mayor’s guarded chambers, ready to go on the offensive straight away. Much to the mayor’s surprise, the man whom they had all suspected as being the vampire was with the boy while remained unchained and unharmed, which gave him pause before inevitably asking why this person was here. While Gawain tried to explain the situation, Waylon went straight towards the woman who was currently still sleeping it off in the corner of her room. With the antidote administered, it was really just a matter of time before she would awaken. For as Stanard put it, the fact that she hadn’t outright died when taking in the mixture of hazardous flowers and plants meant that the book had been correct. Focusing entirely on the cells in her body that had turned towards vampirism, it stood to reason that she would need a lot of rest to get over it.
That said, the fact that Aronil had seemingly fled the scene shortly after Gawain had left to find and bring Waylon in more or less proved to both him and Waylon that this was in fact the man that they were after. Even after explaining the story to both Stanard and the mayor, the mayor seemed to be unconvinced, seemingly knowing the man for many years as he was the kind of nobleman that contributed to a lot of things throughout the city. The way Gawain saw it, it seemed a lot like someone using philanthropy as a means of hiding the fact that they were a serial killer, making them into a less likely target for smear campaigns. At this point in time however, none of that was really going to help them, because whether the mayor would believe them or not, that still wouldn’t change the fact that Aronil had disappeared at a rather convenient moment.
More importantly, he had disappeared to a place where no one could find him. Not so much because he was a master at hiding, which he was, but because no one had any idea where he might have gone. Surely there was his estate in town, though it seemed rather idiotic for a vampire that had likely been alive for more than a few generations to just wait out the storm in his attic or basement. Given how the man had tried to shift the focus of his own vampiric nature towards getting the group to kill the woman, getting the group to kill Waylon and maybe even slipping talk to the militia so they might do the deed for him told Gawain that they were not dealing with an untrained mind here. No, this Aronil was a clever one, and likely a powerful one as well. Regardless, they would need to find some kind of lead that might tell them where to go. And as it were, the only lead they had was the fact that they knew where the man lived.
Even though the mayor was still on the fence about all of it, the man did tell them where it was that he lived, though Waylon told him that he was already very much aware of this information. Visibly confused as the mayor had no idea why Waylon would know this, the two left the building together in order to go to Aronil’s house. As they did so, Gawain made sure to ask why Waylon knew about the man’s house, to which he got a rather interesting answer.
“My wife and I come from a long line of vampire hunters. We have lived here for generations, because there have been vampires here for generations. When we killed one of them, it seemed that two more would eventually pop out of the woodworks, though around the time of my grandfather’s youth, they started becoming more clever.”
Followed by a temporary silence, Gawain just listened and pondered on what he was told. He was one of many people who believed vampires didn’t exist, or rather, that they no longer existed. Because in a world so full of magic, it seemed hard to believe that such magical creatures were out of the question. If dragons, demons, elementals and fae existed, the chances of vampires also existing wasn’t that outlandish a belief. When Waylon was ready to continue telling his story, the boy just listened with intent.
“Concealing themselves, they always kept their numbers to a mere handful to avoid detection, leading the country to believe vampires either didn’t exist, or no longer existed here. But that was always part of the plan, and part of the reason why every new generation of my family was taught how to effectively kill vampires. That book Stanard used, it belonged to my family, it’s the only reason why he could work out how to make an antidote. Because I left it there for him to find.”
With that last revelation, the boy suddenly understood a lot more about this situation than he previously had. For when Stanard brought the book to his attention prior to his journey into the witches forest, he didn’t seem to know a whole lot about it, just going off of the ingredients and stories described by it in an attempt to maybe save the woman from a fate worse than death. While he still believed it to be a rather odd request to make of someone his age, to have to go into a woodland region controlled by witches that hated men, that were currently besieged by demons, it had all worked out in the end. He had seen the witches forest, the woman had been cured, he hadn’t died to demons, seemingly a win all around. Luckily Stanard didn’t brush the book off as nonsense and tomfoolery, but had the alchemical knowledge to work it all out.
“Oooooh I see, that makes a lot of sense. Stanard didn’t seem to be overly knowledgeable when it came to that book, though he managed to make sense out of it rather quickly. I imagine by the time we return, he’ll likely have all of the pages memorized. Though I do have one question. If you’re all so aware of the vampire threat, just what do you know of them? Like, where did they come from?”
With that question posed, Waylon fell silent for a bit, seemingly wondering whether or not he was supposed to be divulging this kind of information. But as it were, the two of them going up against a powerful vampire once they managed to track it down, it seemed like the kind of thing they could share among one another. There was a very real chance that one of them was going to die after all, and if it were Waylon, passing the knowledge on to another generation wouldn’t be the worst thing imaginable. And if it were Gawain that died, well, then it never mattered how much he had shared with him in the first place.
“No one really knows where they originally came from. Some think it was the work of some peculiar disease from the old world, while others claim it was due to some occult ritual meant to bestow someone with immortality. Then there are those who believe it was the work of the underworld, devils creating the first vampires and setting them loose upon our world. There’s no way to really know for sure, though we do know most of them have ventured into the shadow magic region as the light of the sun does not venture there.”
An interesting tidbit of story for sure, though nothing that really granted Gawain the kind of insight that he had hoped for. Being the kind of person that he was, he always wished to know how things work, what made something strong or how something could be broken. That kind of knowledge helped him as a mage, as knowing what to look out for and what to use in order to break something down was paramount to his own survival and him continuing to make money by taking on increasingly more dangerous tasks and quests. When Waylon let it be known that they arrived at their destination, the boy wasn’t exactly shook at the fact that they were at another mansion. These kinds of rich people always liked showing off their wealth, regardless of whether or not they had fangs it seemed. Letting a deep sigh escape his lips, he looked at Waylon lazily, prompting the man to push the gate open and allow them entry.
From the looks of it, it seemed that the place had been emptied out in a rush as the front door was still open. Not being much of a tracker himself, Gawain had learned a thing or two about locating animals in the forest, though he wasn’t well versed in tracking humans. Waylon however instantly took note of the fact that there were several footprints going from the building towards the gate. Footprints of various sizes and different depths of indentation, meaning the weight was different as well. Keeping the information he was gathering to himself, Gawain just looked with interest, trying to see what the man was seeing and failing. Once the man rose to his feet, the two went inside the building to see if anything of interest had been left behind, prompting the boy to utilize his Ki. If there was still something or someone in here that had stayed behind to kill or maim any that chased the vampire, he’d know about it before they got struck from the shadows.
As it were, it seemed that the building had been completely abandoned with there not being a single hint of motion anywhere throughout the place itself. In a way, this much made him rather pleased as they wouldn’t need to go about fighting in town and potentially causing a whole bunch of collateral damage in the process. What he was less pleased with was one of the discoveries they made while they went throughout the place. Among the places that seemed like they had been emptied out in a hurry were various of the rooms upstairs, which by itself wasn’t all that weird or abnormal. The fact that these clothing belonged to women and children however was the part that seemed to really freak Waylon out, prior to the realization that this meant the vampire had been keeping women and children in this place hitting Gawain as well.
Looking at one another for a bit, neither of the two seemed willing to express their thoughts on the matter, as there was really nothing to say. Due to the circumstances, neither of them had even the feintest clue as to what might have transpired here, nor would one be able to provide the other with any kind of useful answers aside from guesswork. Only capable of speaking for himself, Gawain’s thoughts had gone to a rather dark place. He believed that if the man had kept women and children here, the fact that their rooms had recently been looted meant that they weren’t just victims that were being kept as a source of food. If he had needed that, there wouldn’t have been a point in clothing them or bringing everyone with him. Had he been a vampire himself, he’d just have killed everyone in the building before heading out, thus leaving no witnesses, but that wasn’t the case here.
If his thoughts on the matter were correct, that meant that the people that had been in here might very well have been close to him. People who were willingly living with him in spite of him being a vampire, which was more than likely something they were aware of. They had to be, as one would not able to keep such a thing hidden for more than so long. Sighing deeply, Waylon placed his hand on Gawain’s shoulder, nodding at the door as a means of saying that it was time to go. They had figured out all that they could here, so it was time to follow the tracks. Once outside, Waylon got on all fours, looking around the tracks and seemingly making sure to really memorize them fully, even trying to sniff it out like a bloodhound trying to capture a scent. Not knowing whether or not this man actually had such abilities or not, Gawain didn’t make light of it, instead just pretending like he hadn’t seen it for the time being.
As the man rose to his feet, he began leading them through the streets. Putting his hood on as they passed through the streets, the young man following right behind him was fully intent on protecting him if any of the militia decided to try and bring him in or kill him. Since the mayor wasn’t planning on besmirching the name of a fellow noble until he was one hundred percent sure that this man was the vampire, everyone was currently still looking for anyone that might potentially be the hunter of man. Not willing to take any chances, the two remained as much out of sight as possible, only ever stepping out of the shadows when they needed to inspect the tracks more closely. There were a lot of other tracks in a town such as this, though people remaining indoors due to the threat of a vampiric attacker did help them out tremendously. Had that not been the case, following these tracks would have been nigh impossible. Now, it was merely improbable.
As time went by and darkness began to descend upon the world, Gawain and Waylon had made their way into the foothills outside of town. It was in this general region that he had stumbled upon the magic dungeon in which he had encountered the blade of heroes, as well as a band of greenskins roving about outside. To his knowledge, they were called “Goblins” by most, and were considered dangerous pests that could pose quite a threat to those that took them as nothing more than a nuisance. For as the saying went, “Where there is one goblins, there may very well be a hundred goblins”. Sure, this was a gross overexaggerating as such a force being mobilized would pull the attention of the magic knights in no time at all. Still though, if there were some, there were bound to be more nearby, which was something he certainly remained mindful of.
Tracing the tracks through the grass and dirt and into a small mound, Gawain would be the first to voice the opinion that just heading in without a plan was likely going to play right into the vampire’s hands. That was, if he had even figured out that they were coming, or that there was even a person capable of tracking him among the band of morons Aronil had infiltrated. At least that was what Gawain imagined the vampire would have thought. It must have come as a surprise to him that one of the seemingly useless nobles was actually an accomplished alchemist capable of concocting tinctures and potions to cure vampirism with just some minor directions from a dusty old tome. So with a bit of luck, the monster wouldn’t expect anyone to find him, thus continuing his streak of going missing for decades before popping up under another alias. A clever ruse.
Leaping inside of the mound, Waylon was the first to make it down to the floor below before popping off a fire spell that would cast some light across the room. As soon as the light of the ball of fire spread across the room itself, two things were quickly made apparent. One was the fact that this floor here was filled in with tiles, the kind of tiles made by qualified stonemasons that were worth their weight in gold twice over. The other being the fact that Waylon was not alone, and that whatever else was down there with him was angry, perhaps even ravenous. Activating his Ki as he jumped down the mound, there was no going back now as they were well and truly in the thick of it. Through the utilization of his extrasensory capabilities, Gawain could tell that there were various threats all around them, sticking to the thickest of shadows as they circled around them.
Wondering whether or not they had misjudged the situations, the ashen haired boy couldn’t be bothered with waiting to be assaulted, preparing the first spell that came to mind as one of the presences seemed to respond to his move. Darting towards him like an arrow from a string, the form of a woman was only truly evident for a moment or two before Gawain’s spell struck her dead center in the forehead, causing it to pop apart like a watermelon. Met with overly audible shrieks from all directions, more of the presences began coming towards the two. Defending their position with a mixture of fire magic and blades of pressurized air that lashed about and rent flesh, bodies started dropping left and right. Where the blades of wind were enough to quickly kill after maiming horribly, the flames took longer to truly kill Waylon’s targets. And it was at that moment that they noticed that some of their attackers were children.
Horrified, Gawain and Waylon looked around at the bodies that had been strewn across the floor, noticing the small limbs and bits of flesh that could only belong to kids physically appearing to be far younger than he was. Not knowing what to make of this information, one of the kids that were still barely alive but burning to death ever so swiftly, Waylon released the spell and tried to get to the child. Trying to see if there was something he could do, he reached down, trying to pick the kid up and see if there was anything left to save. As soon as the kid was in his arms, the unliving nightspawn turned around with vile intent and a ravenous craving for flesh. Trying to sink its fangs into Waylon, it’s head exploded before it even realized it was dead. Hit in the head with a bullet of compressed wind, the creature was put down before it could make an attempt at taking the fire mage down with it.
With this final death now staining their hands, Gawain could feel something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. A sense of shame, mixed with the pressing sensation of urgency and an almost overwhelming amount of anger as he could feel the contents of his stomach begin to rise up his throat. Albeit with a lot of effort, the boy managed to keep himself from throwing up all across the stonework floor, though this came at the cost of being incapable of holding back his own tears. Looking towards the vampire hunter that was still holding the headless child in his arms, it seemed that Gawain was not the only one severely stricken with emotion. For the longest time, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel any emotion along the lines of sadness, believing that doing so would make him weak and set himself up for failure and even death.
For that was the kind of life he had accustomed to ever since he had been taken as a slave and forced to work on the isle of Grýnd for cruel slavers and raiders. For the sake of his own survival, he had been made to kill others in single combat, as refusing to do so meant he would not get fed, would receive no fresh water and would be kept from sleeping, having to work all throughout the day in the swampy embrace of Dagmar’s mire. In that setting, allowing himself to feel these things whenever he had to choose between killing or dying meant death was all but certain, though the amount of years he had spent in the land of Clover thus far had evidently softened him up. Making sure to contain his tears from turning into audible cries, it was at that moment that his ears registered the cries of another. Turning his attention towards the end of the buried hallway, the light barely took note of the man that stood there motionless.
“You fiends… you murdered my family in cold blood… and you would call ME a monster?”
No sooner than after those words were spoken, the vampire disappeared from where he was standing, only to re-appear right behind Waylon. Either moving so fast he could not register it at all or possessing some kind of skill or capability that kept Gawain’s ki from picking up on his presence, the vampire Aronil kicked the fire mage against the side of the head. Flinging him across the room like a ragdoll and into the nearest wall, Aronil kneeled amidst the bodies, picking up the headless child as he seemed to be in a clear state of distress. But something about it seemed off, it felt almost as if the distress he experienced was not for the souls lost this day, but tears shed for himself and his own personal loss.
“My daughters… sons… wives… hand-picked over countless decades. Have you any idea how long it will take to replace another family? Who am I kidding, neither of you possess even a fraction of my lifespan, you cannot fathom my loneliness…”
After speaking those words, the fire within Gawain was lit once more. These vampires they had put to death, they were victims, but not theirs. They were taken from the surrounding area, supposedly picked individually by Aronil as a means of replacing another family he had lost. He had turned these people into monsters against their will, making them into humans with the minds of beasts, evident by their ravenous assault mere moments ago. Believing the trauma of being taken from their homes and their loved ones before being made into vampires might very well have rendered them insane, Gawain lashed out towards the vampire. Releasing a powerful burst of magic that would strike at everything in an indiscriminate manner, Aronil was enveloped and flung back, landing with both feet against a fallen pillar as he tried to push back against the pressing winds that were threatening to crush his bones to dust.
Hearing his bones crack, the vampire was seemingly beginning to undergo some rather abominable changes as his body began to bulk out. Bursting out of his own clothes, his body began getting covered in thick patches of fur as his fingers turned into long, rending claws, his elongated teeth turning into monstrous fangs as his body turned from that of a man into a hybrid bat. Pushing back against the punishing wind with far greater ease, Aronils clawed feet crushed the pillar against which he stood, allowing him to move away from the winds as he began to charge straight for the young mage. Already having the next level of punishment laid out for the monstrous bat, flames erupted from its body as Waylon had managed to pick himself back up from the floor and began laying down the hate.
Name of Spell: Puncture Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Intermediate | Attack Creation | Sensory (Homing) Range & Speed: 40m | 25 m/s Mana Cost: 20 | 10 Stats Effected: - Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot Description: Putting his index and middle finger together, Gawain will point his right hand at his target, using the tips of his fingers as a vocal point from which it is fired. This a sphere roughly ten centimeters wide for the purpose of puncturing the target. The attack itself is non-lethal, unless direct contact with one's vitals is established, as well as causing painful cuts and bruises on people and breaking most unreinforced walls, dealing Intermediate rank damage. In addition, the accuracy and chance to hit can be further improved by utilizing Homing rules, including following the target in adherence to those same rules. The bullet follows the target that was initially pointed at until it hits, runs out of space or hits another object. To those without at least 20 sensory, this spell will be invisible, appearing as a wispy green ball to others.
Name of Spell: Throw Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Senior | Attack Creation Range & Speed: 40m AoE | 45 m/s Mana Cost: 30 | 15 Stats Effected: - Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot Description: Releasing a burst of air pressure to aggressively push away threats, this spell moves into all directions with Gawain at the epicenter. Activated by holding the hand horizontally, the back of the hand facing downward while pushing the tips of his index finger, middle finger and thumb against one another, the burst follows up straight after. The attack itself is lethal on direct hits, capable of breaking bones and breaking most structures, dealing Senior rank damage. Utilizing a fairly powerful knockback effect to blow back the aforementioned by up to thirteen meters + an additional 5 meters for every 10 Power, those who do not possess at least 30 sensory will be unable to see the spell itself. Those that do will see a wispy green dome coming into their direction before forcefully shoving them back.
Name of Spell: Slice Elemental Type: Air Pressure Rank & Spell Type: Intermediate | Attack Creation | Sensory (Homing) Range & Speed: 40m | 25 m/s Mana Cost: 20 | 10 Stats Effected: - Applicable Perks: Overpowered | Quick Shot Description: Extending and pushing his right index and middle finger together before flicking them upward in order to activate the spell, a crescent blade of wind roughly five centimeters thick and three meters long is fired into the desired direction, following directly up on this motion. The attack itself is non-lethal, unless direct contact to one's vitals is established, as well as causing painful cuts and bruises on people and breaking most unreinforced walls, dealing Intermediate rank damage. In addition, the accuracy and chance to hit can be further improved by utilizing Homing rules, including following the target in adherence to those same rules. The crescent blade follows the target that was initially pointed at until it hits, runs out of space or hits another object. To those without at least 20 sensory, this spell will be invisible, appearing as a wispy green crescent blade to others.
Releasing what seemed to be a continuous stream of flame, Aronil replied by unleashing an eardrum-ripping shriek that continued down every room, hall and crevice of this underground space, almost as if calling for help from something. Not truly realizing this much, Gawain did the only thing he could do at this point, which was to aid Waylon in his assault. Firing various blades of compressed air towards the vampire monstrosity, the blades tore into its body, ripping off chunks left and right while even taking off some fingers in the process. Thanks in part to the flames, it seemed that the burning portions of his body didn’t actually regenerate at all, not compared to the unlit portions that were being carved up. Directing his blades towards the burning sections, the combined effort of the ripping wind and the burning flames were doing a number on the abomination.
Carving off portions and burning them to cinders before they got a chance to hit the ground, more blades and bullets of air were launched at Aronil. As the fire and wind turned into a torrent of destruction, the vampiric abomination tried its hardest to move. To move away from the flames, to move away from the reaping wind, to move towards either of them in an attempt to take them out and grant himself some time of reprieve in which he could regenerate himself and prepare himself to murder the other. But no matter where his marred body went, the heat followed in every sense of the word. Beginning to falter as its regenerative properties outright failed and quit, the amount of damage that had been piling up over time finally became too much as its undead heart stopped, shortly after which its brain and other functions went out too.
Collapsing down on the ground, the sheer heat in the room evaporated any of the tears in the eyes of both Gawain and Waylon as the blood along the floor dried up and hardened, the vampire laying amidst the remains. As the last blade of wind was sent out, Gawain made sure to sever the head of the vampire off of its body. While it wouldn’t in any way help them prove that the remains of this monster belonged to Aronil, as it looked just a charred and monstrous bat, it would at the very least provide them with the proof that the monster they had been after had been slain. Looking around amidst the wreckage, the bodies of the other vampiric children and women were all still ablaze, which was a good thing. Due to the structural damage caused by Aronil breaking pillars in the underground space and the heat building up, it seemed likely that the place would collapse entirely within now and a few days time.
Until that point, the fire would do its work to cremate the remains, which was more or less the only thing the two mages could provide the victims with. Allowing them to burn however far the flames might go, the head was picked up from off of the floor as both mages returned to the town. As they exited from the mound, the boy could only hope that this was truly all there was to these ruins, and that no further evil would manage to rise from its depths. With some luck, the mound and all that lay underneath would soon collapse, leaving everything that had happened here hidden from all but the two mages. Soon, they would inform the mayor and his people of ‘most’ of what had transpired, leaving the head as proof so they might show the town that the danger had well and truly passed, and that all of the victims could rest now. Hopefully, getting this closure would also allow Waylon and his wife the chance to live a life in peace, not as hunters of vampires.
