"Samuel! Stop running so far, you know mum and dad don't want us wandering the forest this late!" With a sigh the ten year old boy named Samuel rested on a boulder while another boy frantically scrambled to catch up. Samuel looked around the forest a huge smile on his face. He loved it outside, the smells, and feeling of the wind kissing his face softly almost like a caress from his mother when she thought he was asleep during the night. Samuel was a rather good looking boy with a number of the older girls fawning over him in the schoolhouse. He had eye length dark blonde hair that lightened in the summer and turned to almost brown in the winter. His face was in the middle between pale and tanned with freckles dancing lightly across the bridge of his nose and dusting his cheeks. When he smiled dimples and the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes was the cause for more than one compliment to his mother about good genes. His body was the average for a ten year old but when he was swimming in the lake it was shown that he was more toned than said average having already lost the baby-fat of boyhood and chiseling out a toned stomach and chest area. The boy was also not in the gangly annoying stage of puberty that caused many problems such as the dreaded colt legs issue or the emaciated look some of the boys in the village had. All in all he was a good looking boy whose future was as bright as the sun. "Chris, you are moving far to slow, we would already be on our way back home now if you would hurry up!" Chris was Samuel's brother if you couldn't tell and the two boys were very similar in looks other than that Chris had his father's bright green eyes and tanned much more easily. At the age of eight he was already starting to chisel out like Samuel, a testament to the hard work blacksmiths provided to the community. Together the two were the envy of the mother's of the village and favorites among the Sunday church school. Samuel clapped his brother on the shoulders and pointed out the way to go before jumping off the boulder and into the dirt shooting a grin back at Chris to catch him if he could. Off he went crashing through the leaves and twigs, jumping small creeks and depressions in the earth. He loved this feeling, it was so freeing just a boy and nature, an epic dance that could continue on forever if boys weren't forced to end up resting. The forest around him was quiet and seren-- wait... What was that? He stopped so suddenly that Chris almost didn't see him from struggling to keep up. Suddenly the sound came again, almost like... Yes, it was a flute, a flute being played with such beauty and skill that Samuel felt himself entranced with the playing. Wait, he was entranced! He couldn't move, what was happening? Why was he suddenly drawn to start moving to his left? Panicking Samuel looked to his right and saw his brother in the same issue, limbs not obeying the orders two pre-teen brains were sending. After a few moments of struggle all brain activity ceased and both boys were nothing more than zombies being herded. After a time the two were brought into a clearing where a tall male stood in pure black clothing playing the flute that started this whole mess. He was grinning as the two boys walked to the clearing and when they stood in front of him he stopped. Almost instantly the two boys snapped out of the trance they had been put in and looked around wondering what happened. The man in black put a hand on Chris's shoulder and spoke in whispers. "Welcome to the end and start of your new life boys." Without a second warning the man put his hands around Chris's neck and squeezed until he passed out. Samuel watched wide-eyed and ran for his life. Another whisper and the man was standing right in front of him the smile still on his pale face, a face paler than death itself, and eyes burning like fire. Samuel tried to scream but he found he couldn't get a word out. The man nuzzled Samuel's neck with his nose and the poor boy heard the sniffs as the pale man took in his scent. He shuddered as he felt the mans tongue lick back up his throat then -did- scream when he felt a horrible pain in his neck. The pain was horrible, the worst he had felt in his young life and he throat ripped itself apart as a gut-wrenching scream soared over the treetops to be heard by no one. Slowly Samuel felt his life slipping away, getting weaker and weaker until his eyes rolled back into his head and his life passed away. He came to-- Wait, came to, an hour later but everything was different, for one he had this horrible feeling in his throat. It was so dry, he needed something to drink! Anything to drink! He jumped up and his senses overloaded as smells and sounds bombarded the poor boy. A hand went to his shoulder and Samuel looked right back into the man in black's burning red eyes, the man who had killed him. But wait, if he had killed him then how was he alive and why was his senses so strong all of a sudden. Not wanting to look, but his curiosity getting the better of him he looked down at himself and almost recoiled. His clothes were covered in red blood, torn and ripped showing his skin which was much paler than it had been before... Before he was killed. As he looked back up the man was walking away, Chris across his shoulder. Samuel took two steps or what he felt were two steps and ended up beside the man. Sighing the man signaled no with a shake of his head and pointed the opposite way while taking off again. But Samuel felt an almost overwhelming urge to follow him and besides he still had Chris! Without hesitating he caught up again and this time the man dropped Chris on the ground and grabbed Samuel by the collar throwing him into a tree. Not understanding what was happening Samuel tried to go and hug the man to get him to stop but this only infuriated his killer even more. For the next hour Samuel was beaten very badly to the point where he could not even stand. The heartless man picked Chris back up spit beside Samuel's head and headed North. Samuel tried once more to get up and even managed to but fell back into the ground after the first step. He wasn't going anywhere with his injuries and he felt his world go black once more.

The warm body between his legs jolts slightly with every step, the saddle, while comfortable, doing nothing to cushion the motion. However, as experienced rider he is, Dirk O'Lauriel shifts and rocks in perfect time to the motions of the running stallion and to the beast it's almost as if he has no rider at all. The road has been long, and the rider knows that they have almost reached their location, but as the low rumble of thunder rolls overhead he can't help but let out a soft sigh. It will be a danger to his horse should the rain start too soon, the road they are on not five yards from the lip of a high cliff that drops off into the ocean. He could dart into the trees but his pace would be significantly slowed as the low hanging pine branches make travel by horseback hazardous even under the blazing light of the sun.

Not that that's even an option for the traveler, his black travel cloak not quite enough to shield his sun sensitive skin from the deadly solar rays. While this elder vampire can travel under the sun for short distances, doing so for anything less than to save ones life is just foolish. And of all things Dirk is, he is no fool. His clock flaps open, trailing behind him in such a way that makes it almost look like a shadow is flying above the horse's back, the crash of waves below urging Dirk to make a decision. He is an expert rider, and his horse is perfectly broken in, but is it worth it? His mind, hidden beneath a sheet of jet black hair currently tied back by a leather traveling strap, falls back to the meeting not twelve days past where one of the only vampires he knows of that outstrip the elder in age and experience, came to his home to deliver some distributing news.

The night had been warm, perfect for the hunt, but Dirk did not have time to go out that evening, and was eating in from his own personal stores. The middle aged servant was quite oblivious to the feeding and felt no pain, the elder being very adept at not only feeding gently but also doing so without disabling his meal. Dirk never kills unless he has to, and in this particular case would have been more of a hassle as he would need to find someone to replace the man. The ring of his doorbell at that hour had been something unexpected so he went to answer it himself, shooing away the sleepy servant who'd been almost at the door by the time he arrived in the front hall. Answering to find the young courier from the coven had set him on edge, an edge that only grew throughout the evening meeting until at last it passed and he simply fell into a resolve to do as was asked of him.

The reports had been alarming, though if it was just one rogue Dirk is more than a match for any known vampire in the new world. As tight knit as the vampiric community is for the most part, there is no way that another elder made it across the great pond without the coven masters knowing about it, and anyone younger would provide little to no challenge, unless he was beset by overwhelming numbers. But as the reports indicated only a few casualties every once in a while it being many is unlikely. Dirk is unsure what this rogue element is up to, but as the he comes to the top of a rather steep drop in the road leading down to the stretch of road that will lead through the seaside town he decides that he will keep an open mind.

As the road itself has decided he must slow down Dirk pulls his horse up a little short and leads him into a light trot down the decline just as the heavens decide to open. The two bodies are quickly soaked and in the distance, before the rain drowns most sounds out completely, the vampire hears several shouts from the area around the village and he looks towards them curiously. 'Surely, with the deaths recently, they are not wandering about without a care at this late hour?' Shaking his head he turns his focus back to the road. The deaths have been happening over the past four months, a couple deaths a week, and from the reports the villagers are lose to panic. To hear anyone out of town just past midnight seems quite contradictory.

However as he reaches the bottom of the decline, the ground now quite muddy an slick, he spots the source of the shouts and shakes his head sadly. Pulling his cloak in tighter around his fine clothing, - a deep purple sir coat, matching pants, white shirt and cravat, the later of which is tucked into his red vest with silken ivy patterns on it – the vampire slows his horse even further as to not startle what is obviously a hunting party. Every man in the group still seems ready to go on the hunt, the torches they'd been carrying tossed into a pile off to the side as what apparently is the leader rallys the men's spirits. 'Well, this could be inconvenient' he muses, his head turning slowly to gaze at the treeline now several yards away from the road. 'All the deaths happened in or near the woods, and all the bodies were found in there. They must think it is a large animal of some sort. . .'

With a shrug, his eyes flash for a moment, allowing him to see through the rain to spot the path into the woods. He still has time, it's just past midnight, and unlike the human hunters he will not be too hindered by the rain, even if it will dull his senses significantly. Unfortunately, as he turns off the road, one of the men in the party spots him and calls out. 'Oh bother' he thinks with a sigh, bringing his steed to a stop as he turns to face the man approaching, the rest of them close behind, clutching their weapons as if he himself may be the threat they all fear. A bunch of armed humans is never a happy sight for a vampire, so as to try and avoid accidentally inciting them into taking out their fear on the 'Mysterious Stranger' Dirk dismounts and pulls his hood back so it drops around his shoulders letting them see his face.

His riding boots shift on the muddy surface of the old road and for a moment he longs for the cobblestone streets of his home across the ocean. He sets that notion aside quickly though, not just because the man comes to a stop a few paces away and seems to be gripping his sickle a little too tight to be normal, but because he really does enjoy the openness and freedom of the new world. With one of his most charming smiles he holds his hands up in a peaceful gesture and waits for the telltale signs that his charm is working before speaking just loud enough for the entire group to hear. “I mean no harm gentleman. Indeed, I have just arrived and find myself a bit alarmed at this reception.”

His voice betrays none of his professed emotions, instead sounding rather calm borderline jovial. The men look to one another and seem to relax ever so slightly. Dirk has always been rather good at handling people en-mass. The one with the sickle, a brutish looking middle aged man with scraggly looking brown hair, slowly lowers his weapon and visibly sighs. “Sorry stranger, don't mean to scare you off. However you may be better off passing through rather than stopping in our little village. Misfortune seems to be hanging around this place, ever since the disappearance of a pair of our young ones.” He points off towards the woods. “And if you planned on going that way, I insist further than you change your plans my friend, nothing but death waits beneath those boughs.”

Dirk follows his gesture but calmly looks back at the men with a nod. “I have heard as such. In fact, I just came from a town several days north of here to see for myself if there be any good game in this area. Maybe check out whatever beast is plaguing you good folk. See, I am a bit of a hunter.” He pulls back his cloak a bit to show off a very shiny looking rapier in it's silver sheath before dropping it back down. With a bit of a half smile he nods again. “Unconventional, but rather good. Would be quite a prize to take down some unknown man killer.” It is not exactly what he wanted to do, much preferring to keep his business unknown, however in this case he does not see that being an option.

The men look to one another with a mixture of expressions ranging from disbelief to avid hope, to simple relief. The front man looks him over with a critical eye before nodding sharply. “Do what you will stranger. We are off to hunt the beast now. We won't let it take any more of our friends and family, but be warned.” He points at Dirk with his weapon. “Don't go spreading your intentions about raising false hopes. You're not the first “hunter” that's been through these ways.” Many of the men look a little ill. “Last one we pulled out of the woods only a day ago.” The men who'd looked hopeful now look quite depressed.

“I will raise no false hopes, I promise you.” The vampire says softly. “Would you mind if I joined you however? I would at least like to get an idea of my hunting grounds before beginning my hunt in earnest.” The bug man motions that he doesn't care and Dirk gives a half bow, looking to the men behind him. “Would one of you gentleman take my horse to town for me? I would rather not leave him on the road out here. I sent a messenger ahead and have a room at the Fairview Inn.” The smallest in the group, a youth who looks not even old enough to shave, is motioned forward and after Dirk drops a few coins into his palm walks sullenly towards the twinkling lights barely visible to the vampire's eyes in the distance. It's clear the young man wanted to be a part of the hunt.

'One so young. . .He should not be wielding a weapon. . . .' Shrugging off his feelings on the matter however Dirk turns and follows the men as they begin trudging off towards the woods. The forest is thick, making the ground less muddy and easier to walk on, the strong smell of pine permeating the area making ti hard for Dirk to smell anything else. It does not take long however for the vampire to smell something out of place and like a shadow he vanishes from his place at the back of the group. Running low to the ground he is soon a good distance away from the humans, and closer to the source of the smell. Slowing, he moves through the trees slowly, cautiously. The pine trees in this area are mixed with a few tall leafy trees that stretch above the the waving green needles. His feet come to a complete stop at the base of a tall, rather old looking, oak tree. His head rotates this way and that, trying to locate the source of that all too familiar smell. The smell of fresh human blood.