Fantasy Hunter's Moon: Cruel Choreography | A Side Story

[Infab]

Hunter's Moon is a series of group RPs created by me, Infab, set in a supernatural late Victorian era world starting in the late 1870s. In this world, players play as hunters from all walks of life employed often by the Divine Church, a powerful religious organization in the universe, in order to investigate incidents caused by the supernatural. They are also often tasked with dispatching said supernatural entities. Their missions could take them anywhere on the massive continent of Adonia, named after the God of Life/Death/Fate in the universe, across the vast oceans to its neighboring lands and islands, or even into the dark and alien depths of the Abyss. This story is primarily for those familiar with the story through watching the previous threads, or participating in them, but this story is still open to everyone. There is a wiki, if you feel so inclined to read about it, but be aware that it needs updating. If you wish to join the discord where we talk about HM, please shoot me a message!

This story, however, is set around one hundred and forty years prior in the year 1740. It follows a former pirate and current hunter by the name of Claire McLachlan as she embarks on a series of investigations and hunts that will change her life forever, and potentially affect the future events in Hunter's Moon. You will help her along this journey, making choices and deciding on actions that will affect her, others, and the world around her. I will list some options, and you may choose whichever you wish and make a post regarding your choice. The one with the most choices, Claire will do. If there is a tie, I will enact a tie breaker.

​

 

[Infab]

--- --- --- --- --- ---
Prologue
--- --- --- --- --- ---

October 1st, 1740
Early Morning​

Its too early for this shit.

Claire groaned, rolling over and sitting up on the feather packed bed. As she ran a hand through her hair, before wiping the sleep from her eyes, the knocking on the door to her room continued. "Open up, or we're kicking it in!" spat a voice on the other side, his words near mush. She knew who it was. Constable Léopold Lavigne, one of Escaria's many law enforcement officials, and the primary authority in the town of Saussion. She had briefly encountered the man on several occasions, being forced to speak to him after bringing in the corpses of dead werebeasts or vampires. And the conversations were rather short. Here's the creature, here's your payment, goodbye.

"Hold on a moment, I have to get up." she responded, her voice filled with annoyance. She flicked the covers off, and swung her legs out of bed. Why now? Why couldn't he have simply come and spoke to her later in the day? Like in the afternoon? She was right in the middle of the best sleep she had had in years. And now its ruined. She climbed out of bed, her bare feet touching the old wooden boards making up the floor, and she straightened her sleeping trousers and shirt as she stopped for a moment. A moment later, she moved for the door.

As she arrived, she took the key hanging from the nail next to the door and unlocked the large wood and iron door. And as she swung the door open, she found herself looking up at a tall, stout man with a wide brown mustache and chin scruff. As expected, Constable Lavigne. "What's this about, Constable? I was sleeping, you know." she muttered, rubbing an eye with her hand.

"McLachlan, you're under suspicion of harboring stolen goods. We need to search your room." he responded, pushing past her rather abruptly and followed by two other constables. Stolen goods? She raised an eyebrow, looking back at Lavigne as he began to look about the room. The other constables already picking up her bags and going through her things.

"You have to be joking. I'm a hunter. I make good enough money. Why would I resort to stealing things?" she said, placing a hand on her hip as she eyed one of the Constables. He was rummaging through the backpack that contained most of her valuables. Personal possessions from long ago. If he had been any other man, she would have drove a blade through his gut.

Lavigne glanced back to her, as he peered out the window on the right side of the room. "Goods from the shops down the street have gone missing. Food, camping supplies, flint, ammunition. Even items needed to repair silver laced sabres like yours." he stated. "And you have history, McLachlan. This isn't an unnatural thing for you to do."

Claire's eyes narrowed, as she glared at Lavigne. "...Constable, my thieving days are far behind me. I spent fourteen years in an Atracan prison for that, and I have to wear the ugliest looking brand on my arm for the rest of my days." she stated, folding her arms before cutting her eyes back to one of the other constables. "And I find it insulting that you would stoop so low as to consider me, of all people, a suspect."

"I don't care if it is insulting to you or not. You're a suspect because of your history. There are others in this area of Saussion that have similar histories. We're going down a list. Your name came up first." he responded, turning about. He looked to his two constables as well, who both looked back to him. Apparently, neither of them had found what they were looking for. He sighed, before looking back to Claire. "Sorry to bother you, McLachlan." he finally said.

Claire grunted. "I'm sure you are, Constable. Now, please leave so I can get ready for my day."

As requested, the trio of law enforcement departed from the room. Shutting the door behind them and leaving Claire alone in the room. Her items strewn all over the place. She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose for a moment. They hadn't been looking for stolen food or supplies. Someone likely had something rather expensive stolen from them, and they jumped to conclusions. She shook her head, and looked around the room once more.

What shall Claire do now?​

• Clean up her belongings.
• Take a look in the mirror in the corner.
• Go to the window.
• Check the hallway.

​

 

[Breadman]

Clear up the belongings

 

[Damian0358]

What a mess, clean it up!

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Clean up the room that only Duke Nukem would love.

 

[K0mori]

Clean up.

 

[Infab]

• Clean up her belongings.​

After thinking it over, Claire began to make her way around the room. Gathering up the items that had been strewn about in the search. Some of it was just clothes. Shirts, trousers, a coat for the colder climates of the border up north with Tsavania. She rarely went that far, but still. It was nice to have it in the event she needed it. Other items strewn around were her hunting supplies. Mainly equipment geared towards hunting werebeasts, vampires, and ghouls. Besides a journal featuring her writings on different topics and sketches of creatures, this consisted of a handful of wooden stakes, a small mallet, a well used hatchet, a poniard, her silver laced sabre, and an old flintlock pistol. The flintlock only had one shot left, a silver ball and some metal pellets to give it some extra punch when the need arose. At least she had plenty of flint. Fire starting was a must in the profession.

As she gathered the items, she tucked them back into the leather backpack and satchels they had been removed from. One by one, the bags filled up, with Claire only pausing to change out of her sleeping clothes and into her clothes for the day. A loose fitting white blouse shirt, black leather pants, leather boots, and a worn dull black vest. Her typical look for most occasions, carried over from both her previous life as well as prison life.

Soon, she moved over to where her personal belongings were next to the right side of the bed, outside of the backpack they were previously in. A small pouch, containing a few trinkets from her past. A golden necklace her mother used to wear, and an old Atracan coin. One of her first, captured from a galleon off the coast of Grimtham Isle.

She slipped the necklace on, then picked the coin up and looked it over. She smiled. A few wonderful memories. She was young. Eager. Practically born for the role of a pirate. She rolled the coin between her fingers, the edges flipping over each finger, before she flipped it up into the air with her thumb. She caught it, then tucked it into her pouch before slipping it onto her belt.

Once the bags were packed, she set them on the edge of the bed. Ready to go, but she wouldn't be leaving just yet. She had things to do around town. Important things. Like buying a new horse. The last one decided that it was a wonderful idea to try and run from a werewolf. One swipe, and the horse's innards were exposed for the world to see. But the smell was what she remembered most from the ordeal. Frankly disgusting.

As she pondered what all she had to do, a knock sounded from the door. She turned a bit, facing it. What now? "Yes? What is it?" she said, placing a hand on her hip.

The door eased open just enough for a young blonde girl to poke her head through the gap. Pauline, one of the servant girls that worked at the inn. "The mistress says you have a rather important looking letter downstairs. Has a fancy wax seal on it and everything." said Pauline, as her eyes traveled around the room. Claire nodded. "Alright. I'll get it before I leave. Thank you, Pauline."

A moment later, the girl disappeared. A sealed letter? Rather official sounding. Maybe a local lord wished to hire her. She raised an eyebrow at the thought. Usually lords avoided her because of her history of piracy. Probably expecting her to steal from them at some point.

Eventually, she gathered up her sabre and flintlock, tucking the flintlock into her belt in the small of her back and clipping the sabre on her hip. And afterwards, moved towards the door. Outside in the hallway, there was a bit of activity. People moving about thanks to the constables barging into their rooms looking for her. The other doors along the sides of the hallway were open, voices and other noises coming from each. As she passed each, walking down the hallway towards the staircase, she peeked into each room. One was a merchant, complaining to one of the servant girls about the intrusion of the local constabulary. Another were two lovers, getting dressed after a long night of fooling around. She heard that pair through the walls last night, and couldn't help but smirk as she met their gaze.

At the staircase, she passed a few servant girls coming up, each carrying something different. Towels, soaps and shampoos, buckets full of hot water, and so on. Early morning bathing rituals. She had considered partaking, but she had a nice bath the previous night. As she reached the bottom of the tall staircase, she glanced about. The entrance to the inn was rather enclosed, consisting of the counter where one of the servant girls sitting behind it would be spoken to about acquiring a room for the night, a seating area for weary travelers, and some other doors leading into other parts of the inn. Fresh flowers had been picked, poking out of a small vase on the edge of the counter. Lavender.

One of the constables was still here, speaking in Escarian to a older local man. Short, wide, a receding hairline with puffs of grey curly hair around the back of his head, and glasses. She recognized him as a shopkeeper from down the street who owned one of those fancy alchemy stores. When his gaze met hers, he frowned. The corners of his mouth twisting downward into a disgusted expression. And she returned the very same expression. Asshole. He was likely the one that pointed the finger at her about whatever was stolen.

• Confront the shopkeeper.​
• Speak to the Constable.​
• Explore the inn.​
• Continue out into the street.​

 

[Breadman]

Confront that bald bitch

 

[Damian0358]

Bastard isn't worth her time, explore the inn.

 

[K0mori]

Don't be hot-headed. Head outside and get some fresh air.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Go into the street, neither grumpy grandpa or the cops are worthy of your time.

 

[Infab]

• Continue out into the street.

After giving the shopkeeper the same look he had given her, she ignored their continued existence beyond that point, as well as the Constable's, as she moved towards the inn's fancy double doors. With a pull, one of the doors opened to reveal a mud-stained cobblestone street with several variations of pedestrians wandering the sidewalks. All around were various structures of different sizes and shapes, made of combinations of wood, brick, and stone. Saussion was an old village, having been around since even before the Age of Darkness in a far smaller and more basic form. But now, it was fairly large and modernized. At least, compared to other towns in western Escaria.

Most of the buildings on this street were shops, taverns, and markets, with the two neighboring streets being more residential in nature. The inn she was staying at, Madame Corriveau's Premium Inn, was one of three on the street, and sandwiched between a tavern and a shop that sold leather goods. Boots, belts, pants, vests, backpacks, and other items. Good business. Leather was used practically everywhere, and would likely continue to be for centuries to come.

As she stepped down the short set of steps to the sidewalk, she glanced up towards the sky. Clouds, lots of them. And dark ones at that. Its gonna rain soon. She muttered under her breath. Great, she'd be traveling in a downpour. Shaking her head, she looked back down and turned her attention to a nearby wagon. It was the wagon the Constables had arrived in, which looked more like a large box with some wheels and horses attached to it. The body was reinforced, with iron bands wrapping around it in streaks. A wood and metal door was fitted to the back, with a barred window acting as a way to see in or out. A prison wagon in every sense of the word. They fully intended to toss her in, apparently, if they had found whatever they had been looking for.

She frowned at the sight of it, glancing towards the front where Constable Lavigne was sitting. He glanced over towards her, before looking back down towards the horses in front of him. Can't even look her in the eye. She smirked at the thought, before turning and moving down the street towards one of the local stables. She'd need to get a good look at what was for sale. Didn't want to be cheated out of good money with a lame horse.

As she walked, she passed by and overheard a trio of women gossiping. They certainly looked the type to do so. Haughty, looking down their noses at most common folk. Likely shopkeepers wives, or traveling baronesses or ladies. All they were missing were the elegant dresses they were commonly seen in, but the morning outfits they were wearing were rather close in styling. What Claire paid more attention to, however, was the gossip. The King of Escaria was still trying to deal with the aftermath of the plague that had hit Escaria in the winter of 1736, along with the deaths of his sons through various means. His only heir now was a toddler; Prince Ghyslain Perrault, who was the son of the late Prince Edmond. Of course, there was also Mariette Desrosiers, of the powerful noble family of Desrosiers in the Duchy of Chalmette Florissant, but word was that she had become a recluse after the suicide of Prince Auguste, her husband, and the death of his brother Prince Rodolph.

The King was also dealing with the new King of Atraca, Frederick Newmont, and his sweeping changes to the various laws in Atraca. The new king had only been on the throne for about a decade, but had effectively changed the entire way that Atracan society functioned. And how the kingdom interacted with the other nations. Claire was at least thankful that she was spared hanging thanks to the new laws on piracy, but the branding was a bit much. It made her getting a job in Atraca rather difficult, as most didn't trust pirates even if they went straight.

Currently, trade between Atraca and Escaria was under scrutiny, thanks in part to Newmont's changes. Tariffs were a word tossed around a lot. Claire moved on before she could hear more about it. That was more political and economical talk, which she didn't find very interesting. She wasn't royalty, or a politician. She just killed things for a living.

Further down the street, she would make a left between a clock maker's shop and a general goods store, traveling down a wide alleyway which was more mud than dirt. And eventually she would exit out into an open area where a large barn and a pen with a wooden fence around it sat. Horses stood out in the pen, eating whatever sprouted up out of the ground, and the barn's doors stood open. The sounds of a man talking to something coming from inside. Claire strolled around to the opening, glancing to the horse in the pen every so often, before spotting where the talking was coming from.

An older man wearing a piece of cloth wrapped around his head, was mending a horse's hooves, using various tools to clean out gunk and mend the horseshoes. "Good morning." said Claire, stopping just at the doorway. It forced the man to look up for a moment, smiling as he saw her. "Good morning to you as well." he said, his Escarian accent bearing down on his words rather intensely. He then continued his work, as Claire peeked back outside at the horses in the pen. "I'm looking to buy a horse. I'm a hunter, so need something strong. Fast helps too, but strong's a must."

"Ahhh, you'll want a horse like Noël. The white horse in the pen. Strong, beautiful creature. The previous owner was a farmer. Had to sell him when he lost his farm about a year ago. Pretty well trained. Go take a look at him. Just whistle and he should come right to you." responded the man, forcing Claire to look back out in the pen yet again after he finished speaking. And sure enough, there was a white horse in the pen, drinking from a water trough now.

Clarie stepped over to the fence, resting her arms on the wooden boards, and whistled in its direction. Its ears perked up, and it looked back. Then, it turned about and trotted over to where Claire was standing. Good. He listens. "Hey there. Nice to meet you, Noël." she said, reaching up and gently running her hands along its face and neck. Petting it. She glanced back after a moment. "How much?" she asked. She was afraid to hear the answer, but surprisingly it was something she could afford.

"Uh...I'll take about forty silver for it." called out the man from where he was sitting inside.

She smiled. "Excellent. I'll take him. I'll pay you fifty silver if you can get him saddled up and ready to ride by the time I get back." she responded.

"Alright, you've got a deal." said the man afterwards. She gave the horse a gentle pat, as she turned about. Now, she just needed to check on something. The supernatural bounty listings at the constabulary. Gotta figure out what her next job is, if that letter the servant girl mentioned wasn't of any importance.

Minutes later, she found herself standing outside the small building that functioned as the constabulary. But the size fooled most. In reality, the building had a large underground area which acted as a prison for criminals and supernatural entities which were able to be arrested (like vampires and werebeasts.) There was a pair of wide boards outside on both sides of the front doors, one adorned with posters of wanted criminals and the other one listed sightings and attacks by supernatural entities. She moved to the right board, and began to go over the listings.

Ghost sightings across most of Escaria. Ghost sightings were common, and usually just required a priest from the Church to show up and remove them or for the one being haunted to figure out why the ghost is sticking around. Spectres were more dangerous, and often caused physical harm and even deaths. Those were fairly uncommon. Werebeast sightings near the border with the numerous kingdoms of Daristein, which was also common. Daristein was plagued with numerous types of werebeasts, as well as Tsavania. A well known one that had still yet to be caught went by the name of Riberta. Rumored to be a hybrid of vampire and lycan, she was particularly dangerous. The Church had spent years trying to capture her, as well as the various kingdoms of Daristein.

She eventually found one that paid well enough. Ghoul attacks in the area of Ditoise, several dozen kilometers east in the neightboring duchy. Usually ghoul sightings and attacks meant there was a vampire or group of vampires around. Feeding on locals without care if they turn or not. Newborn vampires often did this, while older ones eventually learn to make their presence less noticable. Blending in to society. She reached up and took the paper, rolling it up and tucking it into her pocket. She did what she needed. Now it was back to the inn to gather her things and examine the letter.

She made her way back through town, eventually arriving at the inn to see that the constable's wagon was now gone. Activity had picked up as well, with patrons moving around the inn alongside the servants. Some were coming, some were going, and some were going about their mornings.

As she stepped through the door, a thick, dark skinned woman in a fancy purple dress was standing behind the counter alongside the greeter servant. She was bickering over the constables bursting into her inn, apparently. Disrupting customers while they slept and bugging her about harboring a possible thief. Claire quickly made her way past them, moving up the stairs and walking straight to her room.

After a few minutes of gathering her things, she headed back downstairs. Two final things to do here. Sign out on the book that listed current patrons, and request her letter. But did she risk a rant regarding the constables? Or would she simply wait and speak to the greeter servant instead?

As she pondered those thoughts, she glanced into the other room opposite of the counter. Inside were several patrons, enjoying morning tea and talking. Most of them were older gentlemen, usually merchants traveling through from town to town. However, two people stood out.

There were a pair of Inquisitors among them.

Claire raised an eyebrow. It was easy to pick out Vigilant Order members in groups. They often wore black cloaks, with tall pilgrim's style hats or black tricorns. Clothes were mostly dark colored as well, often made of blackened leather or cloth. Red was common as well, usually used as accents or adornments such as ties, ascots, or handkerchiefs. Most of them were rather serious as well. Blunt, straight to the point, often little time for casual conversation or chatter.

One of the two here proved to be of a different make, however. The taller of the two was a dark, brooding sort of man, wearing a tricorn hat which his cold blue eyes peered from beneath at the others around him. His skin was tanned, his face scarred and bearing a bit of stubble as though he hadn't shaved in several weeks. His form was muscular, and he was clad in a black coat and dark colored trousers. Beneath the coat, a white blouse shirt with a reddish ascot. Next to him, beside his seat, was a silver broadsword, tucked away in a black leather sheeth. Its cupped hilt gleaming in the light.

The other, which caught Claire's attention more, was a young woman. Long brown hair, tied into a ponytail beneath a black hat which reminded Claire of Escarian musketeers. Her eyes were green, like a field of fresh clovers, and she was dressed in a black cloak with an off yellow blouse shirt and blackened leather pants. Leather gloves sat on her knee, the leg folded over the other, and she had matching cuffed boots. A silver rapier sat next to her on the right side of her chair.

Both of them seemed to be entertaining questions from the travelers, whom were very interested as to why a pair of Inquisitors had arrived here in town. And Claire wanted to listen, purely out of curiosity. Inquisitors showing up was often a bad sign. That meant that something dangerous was afoot that needed to be hunted and slain. But she hadn't heard of anything local that needed addressing by the Church.

Eventually, she pulled her head back around behind the doorframe and sighed. She had more important things to do with her time, really.

​

• Speak to the Madame immediately, and recieve the letter.​
• Wait and speak to the greeter, and recieve the letter.​
• Listen to the conversation between the patrons and the Inquisitors, but don't get involved.​
• Enter and get involved in the conversation with the Inquisitors.​

​

 

[Breadman]

Listen in on the conversation

 

[joshuadim]

Wait to speak to the greeter

 

[K0mori]

Eavesdrop on the conversation without getting involved.

 

[Damian0358]

Listen in, as you never know when that info could personally come in handy.

 

[Infab]

• Listen to the conversation between the patrons and the Inquisitors, but don't get involved.

Claire eventually opted to listen in, leaning against the frame of the archway and folding her arms. Most of the questions from the patrons were basically just standard ones. What's the Church doing here, of all places? Have there been any attacks nearby? Anything lurking along the paths between towns or out in the countryside? The replies were informative, at least, and she managed to learn their names as well. Well, their last names. The female, an Escarian named Brassard, spoke at length about the need for secrecy in order to not spark a mass panic while the male, an Atracan named Holloway, mostly kept his answers short and blunt. He seemed the type, judging from his looks.

The pair of inquisitors were passing through on their way to the town of Ditoise, which was where Claire herself was going. She wondered what exactly was going on there that needed Church involvement? Unless they were going there as a training hunt. Inquisitor Brassard seemed eager about it. Only beginners were so enthusiastic about hunting. Holloway was likely a Senior Inquisitor, then, bringing her along and tossing her off in the deep end.

There was nothing to worry about regarding anything here in Saussion, nor in the nearby countryside or on the roads as Brassard assured the patrons. Good. Claire wouldn't have to worry about losing another horse after she had just bought it.

As Claire listened in, she was eventually nudged by a servant girl. "Ma'am, are you waiting for someone?" she asked, the red haired girl giving her an inquisitive look. Claire glanced over. "Not really." she responded, "One of the other girls mentioned there's a letter here for me. Could you fetch it for me? My name is Claire McLachlan." Better to get that out of the way while she listened in on the Inquisitors.

The servant girl nodded, before moving quickly over to the front desk. Claire, meanwhile, glanced back into the other room. And found Holloway staring in her direction. Their eyes met, and she felt just how harsh his gaze was. Almost as if he was staring through you instead of at you. She frowned sightly, glancing towards Brassard. She was standing up, gathering her things and clipping her rapier onto her belt again. It appeared that they were preparing to leave.

And she should be as well.

Claire straightened up, and turned about just as the servant girl returned with the letter. White envelope, with a blood red wax seal on it. The mark in the wax was unfamiliar, however. "Thank you." she stated, before glancing up to see that the Madame of the Inn had disappeared into another room. Good.

She quickly stepped over, taking the quill from the inkwell on the counter and signing her name into the book of departing patrons. Afterwards, she slipped the quill back into place and turned about. Just to find herself gazing up at Holloway. "Good morning." he greeted her, rather bluntly and with little emotion. He barely even had an accent. "G'morning to you as well, Inquisitor." she replied, quickly stepping to the side. Out of his way.

He did the same as her, taking the quill and signing both his name as well as Brassard's to the book before turning to face Claire yet again. He didn't speak, however. Instead, Brassard did as she emerged from the other room. "Ah! You must be the hunter the Constables spoke of. They were in quite a rush to locate you this morning." said the young woman as she stepped up next to Holloway.

Claire nodded, her gaze shifting from Holloway to Brassard as she arrived. "Yes, well... I apologize if they disturbed you. They're rather eager to thrust blame onto the first person that comes to mind when something happens. And, of course, they were wrong." she explained.

Brassard smiled. "No need to worry. Inquisitors make it a habit of being early to rise." she said, before glancing to the bags that Claire was carrying. "Off to a new hunt? Or simply moving on to a new town?"

Claire glance down to her gear. "Oh, a new hunt. Ditoise. Ghouls and such." she replied. "Oh! We're venturing there as well! You could always ride along with us." replied Brassard, looking up to Holloway. Holloway simply returned the glance.

Claire shook her head. "I, uh, don't want to intrude on Church affairs." she said, waving a hand in front of her. "Oh, its quite alright! My Senior here isn't much of a talker, so it would be nice to have someone around that I could carry on a conversation with." replied Brassard, with a hint of a chuckle.

​

• Accept the invitation to ride along with the Inquisitors.
• Refuse, and ride solo.

​

 

[Breadman]

There is strength in numbers

 

[Damian0358]

Would be a good opportunity to find out just a bit more, if they're willing to divulge - accept the offer.

 

[K0mori]

Yeah, accept the offer.

 

[joshuadim]

Accept the invitation, they seem trustworthy

 

[Infab]

• Accept the invitation to ride along with the Inquisitors.

After a few moments of thinking it over, Claire eventually nodded. "Alright. Let me go get my horse, and I'll meet back up with you outside." she said, to which Brassard smiled and nodded. And a moment later, Claire turned and headed towards the front entrance. As she emerged back outside and stepped onto the sidewalk, she glanced back down at the letter in her hand yet again. Eyeing the marking in the red wax. It seemed official, bearing the distinct mark of some unknown family somewhere. It really made her think of the noble houses of Daristein's many kingdoms. And she was eager to open and read it, but not in the presence of the Inquisitors. Lords and Ladies often payed really well, even for the most menial of tasks.

She held it up, attempting to use the light from the sky above to try and see if she could see any of the words written on the paper. And from the looks of things, she couldn't. She frowned slightly, before tucking the letter inside her shirt and moving on. Back to the stable where Noël awaited, saddled up and ready to go. His saddle seemed new, made of mostly a dark colored leather with a pair of saddle bags on either side. There was even a holster for a dragoon rifle, a popular weapon among the Escarian Musketeers, but she lacked one of those. Plus, she wasn't particularly a fan of rifles in the first place. Too unwieldy, took forever to load, and you could barely hit anything with them at range.

The payment changed hands quickly, as Claire fished the correct coinage from her coin purse to hand over to the old man after he finished making sure the saddle was secure. She transferred her belongings to their appropriate locations on the horse, before swiftly mounting the creature. "Be safe now, hunter." said the old man, to which Claire simply replied with a nod before riding off.

As Claire and her new horse made their way back down the cobblestone street, hooves clacking across the muddied stone, she saw that the Inquisitors were already ready to go. Both were riding blackish colored horses, with crimson red saddles and various forms of equipment scattered across either side. Brassard waved at Claire as she approached, while Holloway seemed to ignore her presence entirely. Shifting in his saddle slightly as he read over some sort of small document. Once Claire arrived next to them, he folded the document up and tucked it into a pocket inside his coat.

"Ditoise awaits!" said Brassard cheerfully, giving her reins a gentle flick as Holloway started off himself. The trio soon were on the movie together, trotting quickly down the cobblestone road towards the eastern end of town. Some of the locals paused what they were doing to watch them, eyeing Claire before they looked to the pair of inquisitors in front of her. A church affair, it seemed. Most of them quickly returned to their business, while others continued to watch as they passed.

As they reached the edge of town, they found themselves gazing out at mostly forest. There was, of course, houses and splotches of farmland and vineyards here and there inside the forest, but from where they were, only two or three houses could be seen through the trees. Fall had just started, so a vast array of colored leaves were starting to drift down from the trees and cover the ground. And it wouldn't be long before the fall festivals would begin across the continent as the year marched ever closer to its end.

And the trio made their way into the forest, proceeding past incoming travelers and merchants. Holloway ignored them all, but Brassard happily waved at them. Claire simply gave every one they passed a simple nod. She'd occasionally glance down at Noël, checking on the horse as she rode along behind the pair of inquisitors. She had a habit of doing it, after having gone through several horses before him. Each had their own quirks, and Noël likely was no exception. But so far, he seemed like a good buy. No fuss or anything. Only time would tell what he'd reveal.

As the hours passed, Claire learned a bit more about her traveling companions. Brassard's full name was Évelyne Brassard, and she was indeed an Inquisitor-in-training. She was from the town of Épillac, near the far eastern border of the province of Bastion. Benjamin Holloway was her stand-in trainer, a Senior Inquisitor dispatched by High Inquisitor Bernard Waldegrave of Eternis. Brassard was supposed to be training under another man by the name of John Colard, who was another Senior Inquisitor, but Colard had apparently been in an accident which had given him a broken leg just days prior.

"Tough break." said Claire, glancing to Brassard as she spoke of Colard's status. "Indeed. Still, Holloway has been an excellent teacher so far, and this should be my final duty before my graduation to the status of Inquisitor of the Vigilant Order." stated Brassard afterwards, giving a proud nod as she looked back forwards.

Claire looked to Brassard, after her nod. "You seem rather excited about this. You do realize what you're getting into, correct?" she asked, to which Brassard nodded again. "Most certainly! It is a noble profession! We seek out the evils that dwell amongst us, and banish them so that our fellow man may live in peace and prosperity! Honoring those that came before us, as well as our dear lady Velin!"

Claire eyed her for a moment, before returning her gaze forward. Gently shaking her head but ceasing after noticing Holloway was glancing back towards them. He looked between them for a moment, before returning his attention forward. A moment later, Brassard changed the subject. "Enough about me and Inquisitor Holloway, though!" she said, looking to Claire and smiling. "What about you? Who are you, where are you from, and so on!~"

Claire shifted in her saddle, straightening up a bit. "Well, my name is Claire McLachlan of the Clan McLachlan, from the town of Castlebay. It sits on the north coast of Catanach's highlands in Atraca. I'm a hunter. Before that, I was a prisoner... and before that, a pirate." she said. Brassard's eyes widened. "You were a pirate? Really?" she asked, tilting her head.

Claire nodded, before lifting one of her shirt sleeves to reveal a large brand on her right bicep. It was a royal brand, specifically designed to be stamped onto those convicted of piracy. Bearing the traditional skull and crossed swords of a pirate at the center, but featuring the royal markings of the Atracan crown around it and a condemnation of the wearer of the brand beneath it. It had scarred over by now, her skin rough and discolored where the hot branding iron had touched her. "I was captured and imprisoned fourteen years ago, after attempting to board and capture a trading ship off the coast of Grimtham Isle. Atracan Navy had dispatched two ships from Porthcrawl Bay, who intercepted us. We were boarded, they shot our captain and a few others, and then arrested the rest of us. Some of us got hanged, others locked up like me." explained Claire, as she lowered her sleeve.

"Wow... Why did you become a hunter?" asked Brassard afterwards. Claire shrugged. "No one would hire me after I was released from prison. I figured it was better than nothing. Plus, some of my family were hunters, so maybe it runs in the blood."

Holloway then spoke up. "And the Constables earlier?" he asked, glancing back to her. She replied promptly. "Someone had robbed a store down the street from the Inn, and the Constables knew I had been a pirate at one point. So of course they picked me first to pester. I stopped robbing people when I was sent to prison for it fourteen years ago, so why would I pick that line of work back up?"

Holloway didn't say anything else, simply looking back ahead of them. But Brassard seemed intrigued. "A pirate turned hunter. How interesting! Has the swashbuckling life helped you out on your hunts at all?" she asked. Claire nodded. "I can shoot a werewolf in the head at ten paces, and I've yet to lose a duel with swords. Thankfully."

The rest of their conversation afterward revolved mainly about some of Claire's pirate escapades but occasionally shifted to the training and work that Brassard had done under Colard before. Eventually, they found a location to stop and make camp for the night. Brassard and Claire made a fire and a meal, while Holloway set up their tents and such. As Claire didn't have a tent, she chose to simply sleep out under the trees and stars. It was a nice night at least, as the rain clouds had moved on with little rainfall to speak of.

As Claire rested with her back against a large rock, gazing at the fire before her, she glanced over to the pair of tents opposite of her. Holloway had went to sleep early, but Brassard had stayed up just for a few minutes longer before retiring herself. So, it was just Claire sitting there, thing over a variety of things. Ditoise, her traveling companions, her new horse, what lay beyond Ditoise...and the letter. She reached into her shirt, drawing it out and looking at it once more.

​

• Put the letter away, and get some rest. It can be opened later.​
• Open the letter and read it now, while the others are sleeping.​

​

 

[Breadman]

Read the letter

 

[Infab]

• Open the letter and read it now, while the others are sleeping.

After looking the letter over for several moments, flipping it around and inspecting the seal a few times, Claire eventually decided to open it. Drawing out her poniard, she slipped the edge beneath the wax, and worked it across until the letter finally came open. After putting the dagger away, she unfolded it... only to find that the letter was completely blank. Claire's face shifted to an expression of total confusion, as she inspected the paper for any trace of writing or markings. What the hell? There's nothing on it!

Or was there? She had heard tales of some documents used by noble houses and occasionally spies in which the actual writing is hidden using some trick or enchantment. She'd just have to figure out what was required to reveal the letter's secrets. She glanced to the fire. ...No, that's out of the question. Don't want to risk burning the document. Eventually, she sighed. She'd figure it out later. Right now, she had other things to focus on. She folded the letter back closed, sticking it back into her shirt before getting comfortable. As she laid there, she pondered just what it'd take to reveal the contents of the letter. And what was even written on it in the first place to deserve such methods of secrecy. She was just some nobody hunter. She wasn't important enough for this sort of thing.

She glanced over to the tents again afterwards, eyeing the pair of triangular cloth structures poking up out of the underbrush beneath the trees on the other side of the fire. Those two could possibly know how to reveal what's on the letter...but then, if such secrecy was needed, then they didn't need to know about what was on it. Much less the letter's existence in the first place. She gently shook her head, eventually laying down for the night. She'd figure it out. No need to worry.

Morning came quickly, and Claire found herself being woken by movement in the camp. As her eyes popped open, she looked over to see Holloway. He was moving about, packing up the tents as Brassard prepared an early breakfast over the fire. Smelled like seasoned beef sausages. Yummy.

As she sat up and rubbed her eyes, Brassard glanced over and smiled. "Good morning!" she said cheerfully, "Breakfast is almost ready. If you want, you can go ahead and pack your things." Claire nodded, eventually looking about at the forest around them. It was really early morning, it seemed. The sun had barely come up. Brassard wasn't kidding when she said Inquisitors were early to rise.

Claire did just as Brassard said, gathering her things and packing them away before returning to the fire where the young Inquisitor-in-training sat. Holloway had already finished packing their things, and was now eating a few sausages that Brassard had chosen for him. She did the same for Claire, and the trio ate in silence. The quality of the food surprised Claire a bit. Rather tasty, honestly. If Brassard hadn't already forged her path towards being an Inquisitor, she could have tried her hand at being a chef.

Afterwards, they were off again, returning to the road on horseback and continuing on towards the town of Ditoise. They still had several kilometers to go, though, and there would be several more stops along the way. They passed through smaller towns here and there, as well as by large farms and vineyards. Brassard managed to purchase a bottle of fine wine along the way. Of course she would. She was Escarian. Wine was practically a standard beverage for them, to be drunk at any point during the day much like water (or ale for Atracans.)

Other citizens of Escaria passed them on the trail, giving them simple greetings or waves as they continued on to wherever it was they were going. They mainly were talking to Brassard, however, as the cheerful inquisitor-to-be greeted them all while Senior Inquisitor Holloway simply cut them glances. Claire only waved when she was greeted, really. She wasn't as much of an outgoing person as she had been twenty years prior.

Eventually, after a few days of travel, they arrived at the outskirts of Ditoise. The forest ended a few hundred meters from the small town itself, and the trio sat at the edge of the treeline for a few moments as Holloway and Brassard took in the general look of the town itself. Normally, one would see and hear the usual activities of a town's citizenry as one approached. Here, there was no signs of movement. No sound to speak of. "Its quiet." muttered Holloway. Brassard nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Very quiet." she stated. Claire glanced towards them, before flicking her horse's reins gently. Moving the beast forwards towards the town. "Let's investigate then, shall we?" she said.

The pair of inquisitors didn't hesitate to follow, both sticking close behind Claire as they made their way down the path towards Ditoise. And as they neared, they began to see why there were no signs of activity.

The tell tale signs of a slaughter were scattered about. Blood stains, torn scraps of clothes...bits of flesh. There had been a massacre here. And eventually, as they neared the center of the village, they found what was left of several bodies laying in the dirt and mud. They had been ripped to shreds, for the most part, and fed upon.

"...Certainly a grim sight." muttered Claire, as she looked about at the carnage. "Indeed." stated Holloway, dismounting from his horse and walking over towards one of the bodies. Brassard, meanwhile, held her gloved hand over her nose and mouth. The stench was horrid, and had already attracted scavenger birds whom were nearby. Picking at the corpses. "Ghouls?" she soon asked, looking towards Holloway.

"Yes. There's footprints everywhere." stated Claire, pointing down to the marks in the dirt around the bodies. "Werebeasts would have left other markings." she added, as she looked to Holloway herself. He was squatting near the remnants of a woman's body. "...Hours old. Likely happened during the night." he said aloud.

Claire looked about, her hand clutching the hilt of her sabre. "Why massacre the whole town? Did the vampires lose control of them?" she asked, eventually looking to Holloway as he stood back up. "That or they never had control of them in the first place. Newborns aren't very bright." he responded. Brassard eventually spoke again. "What shall we do now?" she asked.

"The ghouls might still be around, if this happened only a few hours ago. And the vampires that turned them may be around as well. In the forest around us." said Claire, motioning her hand around them. Holloway nodded. "Highly likely. We pile what's left of the bodies up, and burn them during the night. Toss on some hay and other flammable materials to get the fire going right. The activity and the light will draw them here again. We can kill them all then."

He then looked up to Claire. "Pick a building to squat in for now. I'd suggest one with more than one way out." he said, glancing to Brassard as well. Claire and Brassard both nodded, before looking about at the various buildings around the square. At the east end of the square was a large church, which seemed to be in excellent condition. Didn't want to upset the gods with shoddy work, it seemed. The local inn, named the Traveler's Boon, sat to the north of them. Marked with several windows in which one could view the square among other locations. Next to it was a tavern named the Bard's Riposte. It had no front doors to speak of, forming a perfect bottleneck. The question was did it have alternative ways out? And finally, to the south, was a general goods store. If they needed supplies, they'd certainly be in there. The problem was that the shop seemed kinda small. No space to move around.

​

• The Church
• The Inn
• The Tavern
• The General Goods store

​

 

[Breadman]

Go to the inn