A single man stood outside the darkened windows of the old asylum, his hands in his duster, a deep and faded brown, with an old, black warlock's hat resting on his head, the brim pulled low to hide his face and single sword strapped across his back. Rumor had it that a Necromancer and a Vampire had taken up residence in the old building and between the two, the town would soon see more Undead and Nightwalkers than had ever been in the same place at one time. Of course, the two, who had worked together to secure ownership of the supposedly haunted building, now tore at each other, their forces turning the halls into a battle ground.

"If you can, spare the building, many of it's spirits are kind and helpful. They've never given us reason to fear them nor have we ever unnecessarily threatened or intruded on their home." The man laughed at the mayor's request inwardly but nodded to his face.

"I can give no promises, but I will do my best." The contract was simple once the townspeople realized who had really bought ownership. Go in, clear both armies and leaders and be out. Any simpler would have been insulting. "Anything special I should know about the spirits who already resided there or it's new residents?" The mayor wiped his sweaty brow and thought for a moment before replying.

"Yes, the necromancer has Undead Knights of all kinds and Abominations. And the Vampire is a pure-blood. She has summoned several wolf packs, not werewolves of course, and one of the militia reported sighting a Shadow Walker among her followers." The man nodded without another word and left, leaving the mayor to sigh in relief and grab a drink of wine, wiping his sweaty brow once more. He only hoped that the damage to the old building wouldn't be too extensive.

Now the man stood outside the building and waited for the nightly blood shed to begin, listening to moans of the Zombies and Ghouls and then the replying shrieks and growls of the Vampires. Even as he stood there, he could feel the spirits cowering in the places they had determined the safest and the taint of the Dark Magic employed by the necromancer. Grimacing under his brim, he started walking towards the door. Deus misereátur.

All across the planet of Darkova, where creatures many considered nothing more than myth and legend, men and women like the one outside the aged and abandoned asylum faced similar jobs in other cities, towns and villages. The aura of evil that always permeated the planet, a deterrent to even the Darkovan government's allies, had slowly been growing stronger over the last few years after the end of the Were Wars, which resulted in the four Great Packs redrawing their territory lines and their leaders disappearing into parts unknown inside those boundaries. This left the lesser leaders to repair their relations with the humans, a long and arduous process. And now, with the aura at it's strongest since the end of the Wars, the servants of darkness attempt to team up with each other to raise hell. Most simply turn on each other.

After Alara had received her letter she had gone on two jobs. Each had lead to her learning some information about her bastard father. She had also met a male in her travels. She knew his name...somewhere in the recesses of her mind. During each job it strangely lead her to the place where the letter instructed for her to go. Meeting the male was also, she felt, but to much for coincidence as they had both received letters. Also so far as it seemed he didn't know about Alara. Even though on the mission they went on together she had tracked the monsters by smelling them out. Finally they arrived in the town where the manor was located, or at least where it was supposed to be. For all Alara knew it could have been on the outskirts of town away from everything. Who knows. That only meant that it was time to gather some information. So far she felt that she had done most of the work and decided to go sit at a cafe, but before that she stopped the man. "Alright I feel that I got us here. You gather some info on the manor and maybe the person living there and come get me at that cafe." She pointed to the small little coffee and tea shop close by. "Bring some good info and I will get you something to eat." Alara smiled then went and sat at the outside table.

The Aegis clan. A family of holy warriors with the purest of auras. For centuries they kept their purity, fighting the dark forces and helping those in need. Until a single mistake happened and cost them their purity. Fira's mother married an unpure man, and they had a child. Who, unlike every other member of the clan, was born with dark features and not the light ones the Aegis were known for. Even though it wasn't her fault she was still treated differently. Because she was the first. Though cruel, Fira had no choice but to take it. Just like the element she was named after, her spirit kept burning. The cruelty and insults simply spurred her into fighting harder. And she certainly proved herself. So when the summons came for a young warrior from their clan, they choice was obvious. Because whether she lived or died, they no longer had to deal with her.

Fira was currently dressed in her battle gear, though not a single weapon could be seen on her. On the way to the town mentioned in the letter she had been stopped three times. Twice to do a purification and once an exorcism. And being alone had made it hard to sleep on the road, as there wasn't always a town nearby she could stay at. More often than not it was huddle under something and hope you weren't attacked. So needless to say, she was pretty tired. But she just kept at it knowing she was almost there. It would have been nice to have somebody to travel with, but only one from her clan was needed.

That was the nice thing about having her dark features, other than the fact that she thought they were pretty, nobody knew she was from the Aegis clan. All they knew was that she had a holy aura. Unfortunately that also meant that evil creatures knew as well. Luckily she didn't have much to worry about on her journey, but she had run into a few fights.

But now she was in town, humming lightly as she wandered, not really knowing where to go. But she knew if she kept walking, she'd find something eventually. She had walked this far, what was a little more? It was a good test of her endurance, which honestly she could work on a little bit. She was much better at sniping from a distance than close range combat.

Instead of looking in front of her, Fira's eyes drifted off to the left. Following the spirit of a little boy, playing with another spirit, this one a little girl. They didn't even realize that they were dead. Ah the peaceful existence of children. Even dead ones. Because she wasn't looking where she was going, she suddenly found herself crashing face first into a pole. Staggering back a few steps, she clutched her nose, hoping it wasn't broken.

Everything had been going fairly well for Darius. He could more than handle himself, despite his "disability", as so many had referred to it. And things only seemed to get simpler when he joined up with the older woman. He worked and so did she to ensure that they both made it to where they needed to go. Yup things had been running smoothly. At least that was until they arrived at the town and Alara opened her mouth.

The fact was it would have been fairly simple to just walk around and gather information. Sure the young man could get lost, but that didn't matter. He would eventually find his way back. However, the way she made it seem as though he'd done little to nothing throughout the course of their journey bothered Darius. "Oh? You got us here?" He asked as he followed her out to the outdoor table and took a seat across from her. "I must have been asleep when you were piggy backing me here." He commented sarcastically before kicking his feet up. He seemed to think for a moment as he leaned back in his seat ever so slightly. "Now I have no problem looking for information." He admitted calmly. "...but you're gonna do it to." He chuckled slightly. Perhaps he was being differently. But her tone of voice and remarks of him doing nothing deserved retaliation. At least in his eyes they did.

"You see I don't need help getting food. And I don't need to take orders from you." He sighed and shook his head a bit before shrugging a bit. "Besides, the townsfolk are more likely to speak to a strong beautiful woman such as yourself, rather than a young man like myself sporting an eye patch and a thuggish demeanor. As I'm sure you've noticed throughout our travels." He spoke calmly and used logic with a bit of flattery in an attempt to hold his ground. Yes... This was him being difficult. Well... This was the minimum of him being difficult.

Blood splattered upon the ground and the monstrous roar of the blood golem was not far behind. Anaris struggled to keep himself balanced. He had miscalculated gravely; the antidote that he had taken was not strong enough to rid himself of the toxins the blood golem had injected into him. With each beat of his heart, Anaris felt his hands and knees getting weaker, his vision clouded by a red misty haze.

"Ugh!" He fell on his knees, vomiting. The thunderous steps of the monster came closer. Using every once of energy to keep his head up, Anaris could see only the blood golem some seventy feet away. It was sniffing the air.

You are a hunter?

"Oh damn, I'm becoming delirious..."

This was it. He was hearing voices now. The toxins were beginning to affect his brain. Anaris looked for his revolver. He weakly wrapped his fingers around the grip.

The golem caught a whiff of Anaris' scent and triumphantly ran at his direction, its hands in the air, ready to smash him like the ant he was

Killing ourselves are we? Well, I won't fault you for that. Much better than being tortured. But are you sure you want to do that? It's quite the coward's way out.

"Shut up, I'm taking this thing down with me at least. I'm hearing things. Damn, I'm actually hearing things? Is this my imagination? Move! Move!"

No, it is not. The voice in your head is mine. I do like your...tenacity and resourcefulness. Say, why don't we make a deal?

"Who are you?"

That's hardly the time to be asking that. We can exchange formalities later. If you want to live, all I need is for you to provide a place for me to live. How's that sound?

The golem was closing in quickly and Anaris' vision was starting to black out.

"...Curses, I won't even be able to lift my gun or see my own death. Ok voice in my head, I'm pretty sure you aren't real but I'll agree to this deal. I'll provide you housing in exchange for saving me."

[Anaris' eyes turns cloudy]

As you command, master
=====
["x"]=Anaris speaking to Jakai in his head

Ah, rewatching a memory of our first meeting aren't you? How nostalgic. This will be a year now? Hmm...

["There is no privacy when you are bind to a ghost. How many times I told you to not peek?"]

Apologies. It's just that things inevitably leak out and having nothing else to do, I look.

["Right. Since it's our first anniversary tomorrow, why don't you tell me what you want?"]

...

["Never mind, tell me when you are ready. If you would have wanted to kill me you would have attempted it a long time ago."]

Anaris spotted a small little coffee and tea shop close by. A rumble came from his stomach.

["Well, I suppose a small snack wouldn't hurt. Don't come out. We don't need another accident"]

Anaris entered the shop.

soren said
After Alara had received her letter she had gone on two jobs. Each had lead to her learning some information about her bastard father. She had also met a male in her travels. She knew his name...somewhere in the recesses of her mind. During each job it strangely lead her to the place where the letter instructed for her to go. Meeting the male was also, she felt, but to much for coincidence as they had both received letters. Also so far as it seemed he didn't know about Alara. Even though on the mission they went on together she had tracked the monsters by smelling them out. Finally they arrived in the town where the manor was located, or at least where it was supposed to be. For all Alara knew it could have been on the outskirts of town away from everything. Who knows. That only meant that it was time to gather some information. So far she felt that she had done most of the work and decided to go sit at a cafe, but before that she stopped the man. "Alright I feel that I got us here. You gather some info on the manor and maybe the person living there and come get me at that cafe." She pointed to the small little coffee and tea shop close by. "Bring some good info and I will get you something to eat." Alara smiled then went and sat at the outside table.

Hi, I'm Zanon from the original Darkest Heart.
Zarkun strike me down if I am overstepping.

Disclaimer: This is a side character, blatantly ripped off from Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time.
He does not get involved in plot events.

---

A cough sounds from beside you, and an elderly man steps forward. His cloths were largely dull greens and browns that travelers favored... With one very notable exception.

The cloak. At first glance it appeared to be a chaos of color. A second's inspection would reveal that it was, in fact, a patchwork of dozens and dozens of differently colored and patterned pieces of fabric. It was hard to tell, but no two pieces looked to be from the same bit of cloth.
The man's hair was entirely grey due to age, and his long mustache drooped on either side of his mouth.

The man bowed with all the expertise of a practiced showman, one arm over his chest and the other extended slightly behind and to his side to hold the cloak out a bit, thereby emphasizing its existence.

"Greetings travelers. Are you perhaps seeking Tobi VanHelsing? I can save you a great deal of time if this is indeed the case." His eyes fall upon you sword and his smile widens. "If he has once again sent out the call, great and terrible things are once again to be set in motion. Ah, but I am rambling. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Thom, Master Gleeman."

Before she had a chance to snark at Darius an old man had come to the and spoke. His words and cloak confused her. He seemed to command authority with out having the appearance of any at all but Alara was taught by her late mother to be kind to the old and humor them from time to time. "So you happen to know of the person we may be seeking ehh?" She also caught him eyeballing her sword. "And if you think I will trade this..." She flashed the blade to him "...for your information your about as crazy as your cloak even though it may be one you have put together yourself after killing many a foe." She sighed and looked back at Darius. "Well what do you have to say about this huh?" She turned her head back to the old man. "On another note your trophy cloak is very nice for the most part."

The old man's arrival was somewhat enjoyable to the young red haired man. It had stopped any sort of reply that his companion might have dished out and gave him a moment to fiddle with and fix his eye patch. Still he was paying attention. He didn't wanna miss something important. It was pretty smart too considering Alara questioned him on what he had to say. When he looked up to eye the old man he smiled. "Well I think your people skills are about as good as those of a rabid dog." He chuckled before sitting up and leaning against the table, his arms crossed atop of it. "Let's listen to the man for a moment. We needed information after all. And if he does try to swindle us you can do whatever you want. But for now let's play nice." His gaze returned to the old man. "What information can you offer us gramps?" He then asked casually. Respect had never really been his strong suit. The man was interesting though, to say the least. From the cloak to his overall Demeanor and speech. Quite interesting indeed.

*Note: The cloak is made up of fabrics, not hides or skins.
I will present you this from a Loooong time ago.
These are the types of stories that the 'Average Joe Citizen' has heard about VanHelsing:

Some said that Helsing worked with monsters to kill monsters, and might go so far as to claim that he sheltered them under his roof. Others said that Helsing was a monster himself. Others still said that both were true. Only a few believed that he was just human. 'Just humans' didn't hunt big game (as Helsing was famous for doing) and live for more than a few months. A lone human hunter might hope to save a town from a lone Vampire or crazed werewolf, and a group of ten miiiiiight even consider attacking a Vampire coven.

One of the stories had Helsing fighting two covens at once with only a sword and a silver spoon as weapons. Another version held that he had only used the spoon.

Still another held that he had been bitten by a Demon, and after five days of excruciating pain...
The Demon died.

Abe's personal favorite was the story where an Imp had tried to offer Helsing a wish in exchange for a five minute head start. Helsing had accepted and wished the Imp to remain still for six minutes. It was said that the Imp spat profanities at Helsing for five minutes and one second before Helsing cut off its head.

---

Trade? Swindle? Trophy cloak? GRAMPS?
Well... He was old.
Additionally they had just made clear that the were not good tippers. He would not be outright rude... but he would have a fine time making a couple of verbal thrusts. They had earned them.

The whole interaction had been a bit two rude for his liking. He let his smile fade and his tone shift towards serious. "Firstly: I am a Gleeman. An entertainer. I deal in stories, not weapons. Secondly: My cloak is a collection of stories, not trophies. Take this one here." He points at a piece of black fabric that had roses printed closely together. "This is the story of the black hearted baron, whose heart was warmed when he was presented a single rose." He returns his gaze to the two of you. "But I doubt either of you irreverent youths would appreciate such a story. You are looking for VanHelsing."

He sighed expressively. "Alas, allowing others to wallow in such ignorance as you two do would clearly be a disservice to the world at large. I will tell you something of VanHelsing."

Thom cleared his throat and considered what he should share. The girl was obviously a were of some kind, she had that way of walking and observing that was so distinctive. He also doubted that the girl even noticed how she would turn her head occasionally as new sents grabbed her attention. There were definitely benefits to traveling the world for years and years on end, the knowledge you gained let you pick up on subtle stuff like that.
The man... was harder to figure. He also carried himself with the ease of one who had seen many battles, and the eyepach was an indication that something at some point had gone wrong. Not a were though. Yet, based on the rabid dog comment he knew his companion was a werewolf.

"VanHelsing lives many miles from here, in his manor. The house is heavily warded, and depending on the blood that runs through your veins," He glanced at the girl. "You may or may not have a serious problem getting by the fence."

Thom leaned in conspiratorially. "The mad priest tried to bring a boy with an arm infected by a demon through the ward once. The mad priest of course had the boy in a wrought iron cage fastened to his wagon. Two oxen were puling the cart, and they couldn't force the poor boy through the wards. The poor child was being crushed between the ward and the cage he was in. VanHelsing himself had to come out and make a special exception in the ward."

Thom cleared his throat and leaned back again. "But that is a story for another time. The ward won't bother normal humans any, as someone has to be able to reach VanHelsing when something goes wrong. Any questions?"

No vampire of any age and power could have missed the warm life and holy aura that emminated from such a human. Mithias pulled his cloak around his tall frame, lowering his pale head to peer downward through one of the windows on the top floor of the asylum. Unbeknowest to the human, immortal golden eyes watched his every move as he stood bravely and alone on the brink of nightfall, so near the necromancer's lair.

"A human hunter approaches, master." Mithias relayed the information that only his vampire senses could gather. "Your minions fear him..." Mithias read the surface thoughts of the creatures around him. "They fear him, and he has killed many." He added in a lower voice. "It is a Hellsing."

Somewhere in the darknes behind him, a voice answered. "Deal with him, vampire."

Stepping back from the window, Mithias silently complied, descending to the ground level where he would appear out front. This is what he was for. This was his purpose, to be a bodyguard, a hitman for the necromancer's more difficult enemies. Mithias grinned to himself. Battle and slaughter were so rewarding.

Before Tobi could approach too closely, a dark presence made itself known. The wind picked up and the sounds of nocturnal creatures went quiet. A figure with long black hair and skin as white as snow blocked the entrance to the asylum. The gleam of blades were visible at his sides, sticking out from under his cloak, but the details of his face were hidden under a hat.

"Do you want to die, trespasser?" Mithias cut the silence, making himself obvious. It was clear he wasn't human. The vampire was terrifying merely standing still.

Alara's mood had lightened when he began to speak. Even though he had insulted them she at least knew the man wasn't daft. "Thank you for the information. Now it seems we got off on the wrong foot good sir. I had not come across the name before or I would have given respect where it was due. Ignorant as I may be about this part of our dark and ill fated world I am learning with at least caution and not blind acceptance of what ever truths a person would spit out on the street." She pulled over a chair from another table that wasn't being used and summoned the waiter. "Now I will get us all some food and drink as apology and thanks then I am my companion need to be on our way. Maybe you could tell one of your stories while we wait for food and eat as well?" The old man seemed nice enough and she was rude to him earlier but she did it to avoid being dragged into something that she had been blind to as a child. She was to accepting of people when she was younger. Going as far as forgiving he bullies for beating her up and telling then she she was glad to see them in the mornings at the point when she was still going to school. All that changed after her first "mission" as a hunter. She had been duped into thinking that someone needed help but in the end it was just a prank. Finally she had changed her ways of thinking and became stronger for it whether or not it made her seem rude.

Lunch for a story? That was a no-brainer.

"I think I shall take you up on that offer. Have you perhaps a preference of story or song? I know quite a few."

Thom took the offered seat wincing as his knee injury complained. It was an ever present reminder that the world was dangerous. They didn't look like a bad sort (he wouldn't have approached them to begin with if they had), but they something of a conundrum. Near as he could tell, the girl didn't sensor herself and her mood changed with the wind. Not all that uncommon in were creatures... Presuming that was what she was. There were one or two other options that he would rather not consider.

The man seemed laid back, but Thom was almost positive that there was more to it than that. Traveling with a were and all. Thom would observe the boy a bit more before he came to a solid decision.

A smile crept onto his face as he wondered what they thought of him. An extravagant fool perhaps? Maybe. It was true that he was only human, but he was none the less dangerous for it.

His knee complained as he bent it again.
Well... Perhaps he was a little less dangerous for being human. And old. Alas, his back flip days were behind him.

Darius watched and listened for the most part. In truth he was about to say something about the old man bad mouthing them for a moment, but didn't get to as Alara had already spoken and handled things before he could. It was probably for the best. He might have ruined things. And in truth he really was interested in the old man's stories. However, something about the way he was observing Alara and Darius, himself. It was unsettling. The old man was reading them. It was kind of ... He didn't even know how to really put the feeling into words. He placed his hands on the table and pressed down as he stood up. Nothing moved or shook. He just needed a bit of help to situate him as he rose. Plus it showed that he wasn't going to try and attack or anything. It was a habit brought about by close encounters with his father. "While we wait for our food I think I may take a moment to stretch my legs. Please excuse me." Of course he planned to remain near the Cafe, but he needed a moment to think. And actually stretch. He hated sitting or staying in one place for too long at times. With a small bow he strolled away fro the cafe until saw a girl .She looked like she was in a bit of pain. She was holding her nose. "Um... Are you okay? Did something happen?" He asked calmly.

-------------
Elsewhere

---

"Druids creep me out man. Crazed werewolves? Not a problem. Vampires? Blood sucking pricks. Necromancers? All sorts of messed up, but not creepy. Not like druids."

Ray glanced over at his fellow hunter. Greg was the most vocal of their four man group and arguably the most skilled. If he were to get in a little more experience under his belt, chances were he would surpass the others. This was just another of the random tangents Greg liked to follow. "How so?"

Greg waved a hand impatiently, almost as though he was dismissing the question as ridiculous. "You have to ask? Dude. They make deals with the friggen Fey. Some of those druids have friggen bark instead of skin. Bark. How does that no creep you out?"

Arty spoke up. "I've spoken with Druids before, Greg. They are the only reason we have roads to connect the cities."

Greg shook his head. "Anyone who bargains with a glowing tree for power is creepy."

Razz snorted. "The Fey are not 'glowing trees' numbskull, they are spirits manipulating plant matter so they can influence their physical surroundings."

Ray raised his hands. "Look, I'm sorry for asking. But do you think that we could have this conversation when we might not be in earshot of one?"

The four hunters cast their eyes out the forest surrounding them. It was true that the trees and bushes could hide either a Fey or Druid, and only a fool would insult a Fey with this many plants nearby. Arty suddenly raised a finger and pointed. "There!"

A pair of softly glowing green eyes observed them dispassionately from the shadows. No, that wasn't quite right. Calling them eyes would imply that they were attached to a head of some kind. These resembled two dots of smoke very close to one another, suspended in the air. They zoomed away the moment they were discovered.

Arty shot a glance at Greg. "If we wind up fighting a twelve foot tall bear made of twigs and tree branches, I am going to flay you alive."

Greg nodded tersely and drew an iron knife. It wouldn't help much against the wood, but it would injure the Fey's essence. Less essence meant less tree could be controlled by the Fey. Minutes passed and noting happened. "We must have scared it off."

Razz snorted. "No, we just weren't worth its time. Consider yourself lucky."

The growling and moans seemed to grow more frantic the closer the man got to the door, a loud screech piercing the night and silencing both sides for a short thirty seconds before the building seemed to rumble with the sounds of their charge. The man stopped to listen to the noise a moment, or lack there of, half way up the path, and smiled beneath his brim. "Tis a fine night for a cleansing, wouldn't you agree Argost?" The blade on his back seemed to quiver slightly in response as he reached into the duster and drew two .45 caliber revolvers, the name Chaos engraved on one and Order the other.

Holding either one out to the side, he continues his deliberate pace towards the doors of the old asylum, every monster associated with vampires and necromancers racing through his mind. A necromancer's first choice to slow an opponent down is a small group of zombies and possibly ghouls. Easy to handle, bullet to the heads, taking out any form of thought and direction and rendering them useless. Then they'll start using tougher undead, skeletons, stalkers, slicers. Simple break them once, though these ones could be reinforced for a quicker resummon. Best be prepared for that.

He was almost to the doors, maybe a hundred feet left before he began his duty. When those lines of defense fall, which they undoubtedly will against an apex nighttime predator, he unleashes his Undead Knights and Abominations, some of the most powerful forces a Necromancer can summon. They'll require a more traditional play on combat, at least the Knights. The Abominations will die with a few bullets through the head anyways. Ten feet to the door. Now the Pureblood. She'll most certainly have a strong following, who I heard just moments before. But they also have unique abilities that help them in combat, hers could be anything. I guess that'll show itself when it shows itself. Then the Shadow Walker...Argost will be needed for the killing blow for sure, but...where... Even as he reached the doors and began pushing them open, the pages of the Compendium of Monsters flashing through his mind.



His mind ran down the list of mutations recorded up to that point with great fervor as his right boot set foot within the halls. Almost immediately, a wolf, most likely under the control of the Vampiress, leaps at him, only for a silver bullet to pass through it's skull and end it's life mid leap, the loud bang echoing through the halls. As the barrel ceased to smoke, his mind found the Shadow Walker entry.



By the time his mind had finished reciting, he'd already found a group of ghouls and vampires tearing at each other and had already engaged them both pistols ringing out in unison as each primeval threat was vanquished. By the time he'd formulated a battle plan for the Shadow Walker, he'd finished the group and was stalking the halls once more, the cylinders getting a single spin as they're reloaded before the breaches and flicked shut again in an expert manner. "Deus misereátur." The halls still echoed with the sounds of a war being fought between evil forces, the revolvers an odd note amongst it all.

Alara nodded to her companion. She would take things from here. She smelled tension from him but decided to ask him about it later. The old man was paying close attention to them both she could tell. She was also trying to ignore all the other sounds and smells that she was picking up on. If this man knew as many stories as he claimed to know he might be able to pick up on her...problem.

A waiter walked over and she ordered them all some food and drink. "Since the food will take a minute to get out here then maybe you could begin a tale?" She sensed that his tales were defiantly once that he had experienced himself or observed. Maybe not all of them but majority of them. She sat back and the waiter rounded the corner with three glasses and placed them on the table with a pitcher of water and a bottle of sweet wine. Alara nodded to him and he left. "It isn't top shelf wine but it is sweet." She said to the old man and poured herself and him a glass. She placed the bottle back on the table and swirled the glass before taking a sip. A small moan escaped her lips as she took pleasure in the wine. I had been a good bit since she had wine especially the sweet wine.

Thom accepted the offered glass graciously. He swirled the liquid once and brought the wine to his lips to enjoy the smell of it.

The woman was correct, the wine was indeed sweet. He tried not to judge it critically. Thom had sampled the finest wines in his time, but that was years past. Old habits die hard. Still, this was not bad as far as wine went. "Indeed. Such things make up life's small pleasures." He idly swirled the wine a few times before continuing. "Perhaps the story of..." The girl was a were, she might not like that one. "Or maybe not. Hm." He reached behind him so he could inspect the fabrics of his cloak.

Not that one. Or that one. Skip the love stories altogether. He placed a finger on one of the pieces, considering the golden fabric. "Perhaps the story of Druid Garis. Yes, that should do nicely for the time we have."

Thom cleared his throat and adjusted his cloak. He modulated his voice to convey gravity and solemness.
"Of all the great deeds of the Druids, many are worthy of story and song. Some slew monstrosities ten times their size, others have ended vampires hundreds of years old. What sets Druid Garis apart from them all? Certainly he was not the most feared of the Druids, nor the most powerful. But he was wise in a time when we were cut off from one another.

In his time traveling from one city to another was a dangerous proposition, even more-so than it is today. Traveling was a feat never accomplished without at least a full Church escort. The Dark Druids would attack any who dared to trespass into lands they called their own. Trees a hundred years old would uproot themselves at the behest of the Dark Druids and set themselves on the trespassers. Fey would make bodies for themselves ten meters tall and again as long, the wood and vine of their bodies making them nearly impossible to injure. Many died fighting such creatures.

Fed madness by the Fey, the Dark Druids gave more and more for power. But the more they gained, the more they lost of themselves. The Fey cared not for the plights of man, they were only interested in their deals and watching the ever-so-entertaining mortals tear one another apart. So the madness continued, until Garis.

Garis was the first of the Druids to extend a hand in friendship to those who dwelt in the cities. He sought balance in his own way. He sought out his enemies and make them an offer. In exchange for safe passage along certain parts of the forest he requested the use of hunters. He used these hunters to kill those who threatened that which he claimed. A bloody arrangement to be sure, but it allowed for the first large road on Darkova. Reliable trade between two cities began, and both prospered.

Time has mellowed this conflict. The more agreeable Druids began to claim land nearer the cities, and others claimed the wilds. The time between battles increased as the Druids reached an equilibrium with one another. Garis may have been lost in the tumult, but he was the first. All of this stemmed from one Druid willing to talk with those who hated him. This lesson must not be forgotten."

Thom smiled as he ended the story. He lifted the glass in a salute and took a sip from the glass. "Not one of my favorites, as it sounds more like a history lesson than a story... but it is short. Perhaps now I might ask a question of you." Thom leaned forward, his mustache drooping even more than usual as he frowned. "Do you plan to go see VanHelsing at his home?"

Alara smiled at the story. She wished all life's problems could be solved by talking it out...sadly things between humans, half-breeds, and monsters wouldn't be solved that easily. Though half-breeds created out of love was a step in the right direction, at least with the monsters that had a somewhat human form that is. She raised her glass with him and took a larger sip than he. She was feeling along in the world again realizing that those of her "kind" were mostly vicious and blood thirsty were as she was not. It was one think that she didn't inherent from her father's curse...the anger that came with the change.

"It is more like a moral lesson than a history lesson, but history is what it is so I can see your point." She nodded to him to asks his question. "I do plan on it. After all I have to figure out why he sent me this letter. I has taken me a long while to get here so I must see if. If I don't then this trip would have been for nothing." She sipped her wine a bit more taking in the flavor. "If I may say though it doesn't seem like that was the question that you wanted to ask though, is it?" She had a sneaking suspicion that he wanted to either ask something else or knew something that he wasn't letting on to. Well at least not to obviously he wasn't but subtle things here and there and the way he looked her over every now an then.

The clock struck the hour and Thom mentally chided himself for letting himself get caught up in things. He should have been gone by now. Thom let his eyes wander about the surrounding area for a few moments before looking back at the were. "Not as such, no. If you did not intend to go to the manor than I would not give you these last few bits of advice." Thom scanned the area around them again. It wouldn't be long now. He shouldn't have accepted the offer of a meal, but the kids didn't deserve to go into the manor unprepared.

He once again returned his attention to her. "Know this: VanHelsing has made allies and enemies beyond the scope of your imagination. You will not be hunting lone vampires or lesser demons in his company. Such petty things are beneath his ability and a waste of his time. When VanHelsing goes on the hunt with others behind him, the world changes. Remember that."

Thom took another sip from his glass. "Though it may seem nonsense to you, heed my warning seriously: Do NOT touch the statue in the drive... It may well be the last thing you do on this world. Also, be aware that you will be tested. Perhaps warning you about that invalidates the test slightly, but I do not care for the practice. Do not become separated from your weapons."

Alara sat up in her seat and smiled. "I look forward to the world changing. Too long have things been the same. Who knows maybe you will have a story about us one day." She sat back in her chair drank the last of her wine and began to work on her meal as it had just been brought to them. She swallowed a her mouth full of food and looked at her guest. "Also don't hold back on anything you might want to ask me, and don't worry I will not touch anything. VanHelsing is famous for at least one thing and that is his traps and cunning. I would know better than to even set foot in the courtyard with out someone escorting me in let alone touching anything he may have." She knew a little about what she might be getting into and she was for sure that she was going to get her ass kicked on this journey but not with out kicking some of her own.