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    1. Zanon 10 yrs ago

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Thom frowned. You couldn't beat originality into people (not that he had tried). "Then the Etched Hunter. However, I doubt I am going to change your mind anytime soon and I too have places to be. Silver Wolf it is. I'll put your patch right next to the other three silver wolf stories I possess. It will help me remember." He eyed the woman for another moment.

Thom knew his hammering it home was in poor form, but such blandness offended his very lifestyle. He told stories. Colorful, variable, wonderful, stories. If everyone had the same name, not only was it a pain to separate stories, but it dulled the story in his opinion.

"Your companion is over there." He pointed. "Rendering assistance to some poor soul who ran headlong into a lamppost."
A Bio-keyed weapon. Advanced stuff too based on her description. She probably had a great story behind how she got it, but inquiring after advanced military technology was not safe. And there was a bigger issue.

Thom snorted dismissively. "Silver bullets do not a trade mark make. Every hunter and their uncle thinks that they can make silver bullets their trade mark." Thom shook his head at the idea. "That's like a kitchen making a pot their trademark. EVERY cook has a pot. EVERY hunter has silver bullets. Every time I hear a hunter say 'silver bullets are my trademark' it frustrates me! How am I supposed to tell a unique story about someone if they want silver bullets to be the theme!"

Glances were being shot in his direction now. Perhaps he had been a little too loud just now...
He took a calming breath and a sip of his drink. "Pardon. That was rude of me."

He gave her a more serious look. "Seriously though. Try something like fire fang. Wait, no. You said you didn't want to advertise what you are...Also not unique enough... Fire flower? No... Flaming Rose. Yes... Yes. I like that one. Flaming Rose."

Thom leans back and considers quietly. "Let me tell you a tale of the Flaming Rose. Yes. Rolls right off the tongue." His eyes focus on Alara again and he lifts his hands. "Not that I want to make a major life decision for you or anything. I'm just a story teller, I'll leave the important bits to qualified people like VanHelsing and yourself."
Were war info for Soren: The were-war occurred about two years past (Baring DM approval/timeline). The werewolves of one of the world's largest clan/pack united under one alpha, and declared a war upon humanity. Werewolves burned cities to the ground, and the streets flowed with blood. The church and military took a while to gather themselves, as no one had believed gathering that many werewolves together behind a single purpose possible.

Your character can ask VanHelsing how that alpha gathered so many together. He might even tell ;-)

The turning point of the war was when the military made their first solid stand, and VanHelsing and his team of hunters killed the were-leader. Events after that are fuzzy, almost like the whole thing just lost cohesion and fell apart. Packs dispersed and vanished while others (read: very few) negotiated for the right to live within towns. VanHelsing's involvement in these negotiations is unconfirmed, and denied by the government.
Thom snorts. "Too long the same? We had a war with the werewolves a mere couple of years ago... That one is sure to go down in the history books. They made more progress toward receiving acceptance in that short war than the last hundred years combined. There is even a hotel run by werewolves in this very city. They have church sanction so I hear. Lots of people wondering if it will last."

He sighs and takes another sip. "As to traps... No. Thinking about it, even the statue probably won't do anything unless you take a swing at it or something. VanHelsing is not going to have live traps in the halls you walk... At least, he hasn't before. Still, with the statue, I'd err on the side of not being dead."

Thom glanced at the clock again. Time was ticking away, he needed to move soon... But the girl had given him leave for a question. "And last a question: Forgive my forwardness, but did you fight in the were-war? I so rarely find individuals with a perspective on... the other side of events."
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."
*Looks sideways at RP* "It needs something..."
*Swift KICK!*

Who we are waiting for:

soren
-The gleeman asked you a direct question

Wraithblade6
-VanHelsing has attacked you

Redwing
-Demon Shinobi has asked you a question.

LiverisGood
-Are you still interested in the RP?
-Every- single member of the IC posters is online and mine is still the last post. *Sigh*
That's life for you.

On a separate note, I will be posting the werewolf weaknesses and strengths soon.
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?"
-------------
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."
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.
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