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[right][code]Raven's Rest[/code][/right]
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Varnan sped down the highway on his [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5a/62/bd/5a62bd25b0231be1cd651666c9e5509b.jpg]motorcycle[/url] in the late Monday weather. These old mountains were bitter cold at this time of year, definitely not the type of weather to be riding through on two wheels. But the icy wind kept him alert, in the same way a commanding officer's presence made people stand up straight. According to the trail he was putting together, the last two lycanthropes had come through this way. He had found trails going through the south end of Cloverfield and both were coming from the west, more or less. They hadn't killed anybody before he managed to lure them away and into a cave and tossed a crude molotov in. They just happened to be the apparition type of werewolves, so they'd shrug it off in a few weeks, maybe longer. He would've sealed them, but he was on a tight schedule right now.

Using some chronomancy to check the past, Varnan had deduced their trail into Cloverfield, and eventually pulled off to the side of a long, cold, dark road as he got to an intersection. Four lanes in each direction, some leading up into another clutch of mountains and some heading into another town. There was an overpass stretching across them, with more cars on it than on the ground. Varnan came to a stop. Traffic was down to a skeleton crew’s worth of cars, mostly people heading home or doing early Christmas shopping.

It had been about a week now, since the apparitions started to get his attention in town. Errant undead and werewolves in a frankly [i]strange[/i] concentration. The mountains were full of strange things that humans were smart not to disturb, things older than the modern city that was nestled in them, but beast men and blood drinkers were a niche. They lived in those mountains away from civilization and didn't care for humanity. No one went up those mountains, no one bothered them. It was their own little world.

And yet they were flocking towards people that they didn’t ever bat an eye towards. They were migrating, and it couldn’t have been the weather. Usually, those clans would never do this. It would’ve been easier to just ask them what was happening, but werewolves and vampires weren’t known for diplomacy.

The light turned green, and he turned down the road that led to Raven's Rest.

On his investigations, he'd noticed a pattern. The two werewolves he had to dispatch later came from the west, and so did [i]all[/i] of them. Not a single vampire strayed from that course, either. It followed, therefore, that since Raven's Rest was closer to those mountains that this was the first place they'd make landfall.

The low hum of his motorcycle filled the near-silent air. Varnan kept an eye out for any trouble while he slowly cruised down the empty roads. It was quiet, about as quiet as anyone could expect at this hour. A few lights on in houses went out as he passed, the snow was a bit thicker here, and it was starting to build up on the roads. Luckily, he changed the tires out last week for this. 

Varnan pulled up to the side of a shop with a neon sign still shining in the sleepy hours. Bill’s Tattoo Shop. Varnan had called the owner in advance to say he was coming over to talk about paranormal things, since he had also been there in the Cataclysm and would know these sorts of things. Dusting himself off, he stepped inside.

[color=f94f61]"Bill? It's me,"[/color] Varnan spoke, looking around around and seeing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. [color=f94f61]"Have the werewolves been giving people trouble here too?"[/color]