Aldrin stared between the two as they ate breakfast on the first floor of the inn after each of them washed up and cleaned their armor. Jared and Pierre were still dressed in their mismatched leather armor while Aldrin still kept his own leather armor. A little while later after they had been seated Thakheam had stopped by to bid them good morning by placing a barrel full of water next to their table. Pierre was forever grateful for the gesture then filled himself up with water. Jared had been unusually quiet since he had told Aldrin of the Servant Quest they had completed.
Finally gathering his thoughts, “So let me get this straight,” Aldrin spoke, getting the attention of both.
“You guys got a Quest because you have been helping me survive?” Aldrin asked slowly.
Jared nodded, “I mean, we weren’t sure how you would feel about it since. . .you know. . . you hate being you,” He said with raised eyebrows.
Aldrin sat back taking what Jared said seriously, “Look, I don’t hate myself-” He started.
“That’s a lie,” Pierre interjected, placing his water down, “We have been with you for what seems like forever but in reality it has been a week and a half give or take and during that time we have seen how you look after doing what needs to be done to survive.”
“So when we got the Quest we weren’t sure if we should have shared it with you or not,” Jared added.
Aldrin took it all in with an open mind, “What changed?” He asked.
“Pierre believes in fate and believes that we are meant to help you do whatever it is because we had encountered you three times that night,” Jared said.
“And Pierre is big on the number three, like superstitious about it and while I have gotten us out of some sticky situations with my thinking he also had his moments at being right about certain things pertaining to three,” He continued, shoveling a forkful of eggs in his mouth.
“I think after coming to terms with that Jared longer than I, we were offered the Quest,” Pierre said.
Clearing his throat, “So long story short again, you have loyal minions ready to do your bidding!” Jared gave a cheeky grin.
“And you guys are ok with helping me? Knowing what I have to do to survive?” Aldrin asked cautiously.
Jared laughed at that, “Aldrin please, you’re a good person at heart and that means you’re winning at controlling your impulses and when you can’t that’s what we are here for.”
“Honestly, we want to help you, maybe it would atone for the fucked up shit we had to do on Imawas,” He added the last part quietly as he pushed around the remaining eggs on his plate.
Finally unable to contain it any longer, “What happened on Imawas?” Aldrin asked the two of them.
Jared visibly blanched as the blood drained from his face. Pierre placed a hand on his shoulder gripping it tightly, “You know how we said when we came here we were in college?” Pierre started.
Aldrin nodded for him to continue.
“When it happened we were in our geology class and our professor at the time had pulled up the news as chunks of the world began to disappear throughout the week. It was supposed to be a special project for the class because no one could figure out what exactly was happening,” Pierre informed.
“Then the disappearances started to be more frequent and the world began to panic as none of the governments stepped forward to claim responsibility or offer a solution. On the day our university was going to let us go home to our families we were the next ones to be transported here.”
“It happened really fast, one moment we were on Earth then there was a blinding light and next thing we knew we were waking up on one of the islands of Imawas in the middle of a battlefield,” Pierre finished.
“I’ve heard rumors of the civil war in Imawas but I just thought they were just rumors,” Aldrin admitted.
Pierre scoffed, “Oh gods no, it’s between the Fire Giants of Ovran, the volcanic continent to the North and Ice Giants of Vlaslor, the frozen continent to the South. Both tribes had ventured from their homelands looking for new lands to settle and those happened to be the islands of Imawas,” He said.
“Apparently they think that they each have a right to the islands but neither want to leave it to the other so they fight and they conscript slaves to do it for them.”
“But why?” Aldrin asked.
“If the two tribes of Giants go to war it would cause the other two tribes, the Mountain and Hill Giants to pick sides and both of them are friends with both the Fire and Ice tribes. Their laws demand that all tribes uphold a truce for the good of all Giants in order to prosper.” Pierre clarified.
“But the laws didn’t state that they couldn’t fight indirectly which is where the slaves come from,” Aldrin puzzled it together earning a proud nod from Pierre.
“117,637 people were left on campus getting ready to go home,” Jared shared.
“101,029 passed basic training,”
“99,241 went to war,”
“17 lived and came home,”
“5 escaped,”
“2 are free,” He finished, the haunting look he had at the campfire when they first talked about this showed on his face again.
Aldrin was unsure of what to say, to hear that so few people lived spoke volumes of the harsh war on Imawas.
“We didn’t gain all our levels with the bandits; truthfully we had only gained one level with them. The rest came from Imawas since it was a fight to live and live to eat,” Pierre said.
“Fight to live and live to eat,” Jared echoed, thumping his chest with his fist.
“That was the mantra they instilled in us every day,” Pierre said, clearing the beginning traces of confusion from Aldrin’s face.
Sghing, “We were murderers before we could even experience this world,” He added.
“Who did you fight for?” Aldrin asked
“Well the Giants found us and agreed to split us 50/50 after basic training and we got shuffled in with the Ice Giants,” Pierre said.
“It still haunts us, we rarely get any sleep without us taking shifts to keep watch because not only did we have to watch for our classmates that got roped in with the Fire Giants but also the monsters and beasts that roamed whatever island we were shipped on,” Jared answered that one.
“So helping you get yourself fixed might help alleviate some of the guilt I feel,” Jared admitted.
Aldrin looked between the two of them, the raw hurt and memories dancing at the forefront, “Thank you both for sharing it with me,” He said, looking them both in the eye.
“What are the options for Servant then?” He asked.
Clearing his throat to keep himself from getting choked up, “Well we can take it as a Class, Profession, or Title each with their own effects but one constant with all three of them,” Pierre said.
“Undead would consider us friendly no matter what,” Jared stated.
Aldrin’s eyebrows rose in shock, “That’s a big boon! Speaking of which, I had a relation section show up when I Inspected Saloth. It was neutral but still and to say that this Quest offers a friendly relation with Undead is a lot.”
Aldrin leaned forward and folded his hands on the table, “So what does each offer then?” He asked, excited to learn about new things regarding the system.
“Here, see for yourself!” Jared shared the Quest.
Congratulations! You have successfully ensured the survival of your new budding Vampire Lord!
Rewards: 5 Skill points, 1,000 EXP, A choice of Servant
Servant Variations: All Undead are friendly towards you!
Class: Gain access to a portion of your Vampire Lord’s power and as they gain power so do you!
Profession: Allows you to better serve your master by unlocking perks that will help you help ascend your master to greater heights!
Title: Gives +5 to all stats in accordance to your master!
Aldrin read over them a few times trying to at least gleam what each is capable of, “The Class seems to be more combat focused.”
Jared nodded in agreement, “And the Profession I am guessing is more like a supporting role?”
“Leaving the Title as just that, a title,” Pierre clarified.
“I mean all of them have a strength and weakness to them but honestly I don’t know what’s going to happen when I’m cured,” Aldrin stated.
Jared shared a look with Pierre, “And if you can’t?” Jared asked.
“Can’t what?” Aldin asked.
Jared took a deep breath, “Can’t be cured? Like what if this is permanent? I mean have you ever encountered something like this before? Something that changes your very being?”
Stumped, Aldrin didn’t like to think about the possibility that this is permanent and he could never return to the life he had but it was there in the back of his mind. He knew he wouldn’t be able to see his sister and grandfather or the friends he had made back in the capital city of Dawnmar. Images of his dad threatened to surface as well which he promptly beat back leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I thought about it and honestly I don’t know what I’m going to do if I can’t be cured,”
“I got it!” Pierre slapped his hand on the table.
“We go to the Progenitor Continent if we can’t find a cure here!” He said.
Jared and Aldrin stared at Pierre who looked like he had announced the greatest plan, “No more drinking for you! You warned me and I didn’t believe you and that’s on me,” Jared flippantly said.
“I mean it’s not a bad idea,” Aldrin supported Pierre
Jared whipped his head around so fast it looked like he almost broke it, “ARE YOU INSANE?!”
“I’M SUPPOSED TO BE THE INSANE ONE! NOT ANY OF YOU!” He screamed, pointing at both them with his face turning red at the very thought of going.
Pierre rubbed the back of his neck and looked away at Jared’s sudden outburst, “Technically we don’t know what’s there since it’s the Forbidden Continent,”
“Yeah! Fucking exactly! The Forbidden Continent! Nobody comes back from exploration over there! No one worth talking to at least because they are all crazy!” Jared continued his outburst.
Standing up, “THAKHEAM! I NEED A DRINK!” Jared stomped over to the bar.
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“That could have gone better,” Aldrin said, watching Jared down a shot of whatever Thakheam poured.
“It’s the only place that might have a cure or at least something that could help. No one has been over there to fully explore and if they do they don’t come back the same. This could be the chance you need,” Pierre explained.
“I’m on board with the idea, don't get me wrong but we need to be at a higher level first before we even begin to gear up for the trip.”
Pierre looked over a Jared again who downed another shot, “I’ll try to convince him but back to the matter we were originally talking about I’ll take the Title of Servant,”
After Pierre selected his choice a wispy white light shot from him into Aldrin.
“Oh whoa, that’s a weird feeling,” Pierre said, patting the spot on his chest where the light shot from.
Frowning and looking down at the spot the light went into, “What was that?” Aldrin asked.
“Guess we’ll find out when we need to,” Pierre shrugged.
Jared came back a few moments later placing his empty shot glass on the table, “IF we have to go to the Progenitor Continent then we head to Folos first before we head to Ebira to take a ship across the water.”
“Does that mean you are in with Plan B?” Pierre asked hopefully.
Jared’s tensed shoulders dropped, “Yes I am,” He sighed in defeat.
“Alright then we start here in Lor-Vold, ask around about any shops that specialize in fighting the Undead, and meet back here around midnight?” Pierre suggested.
They agreed to the plan and made their way down to the Production District of the city where they first entered. Aldrin donned the cloak’s hood to block out the stinging of the sun as it beat down on them again. A few clouds passed over but thanks to the magical smoke being produced in the city most of the clouds dissipated. Still it didn’t alleviate the effects of Daywalker. If anything happened while in the city when he was this weak he wouldn’t stand a chance he thought looking at his reduced Stats.
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 6
Vitality: 6
Intelligence: 5
Willpower: 10
Charisma: 7
Soon they were thrown amongst the throngs of people going every way, calling shouts of warning as they ran by. There were Humans walking along with fancy dressed Orcs, Dwarves and Wood elves intermingled as they listed the types of potions they needed, a few glimpses of Half-Elves and Half-Orcs could be spotted too. The three had to be quick so they wouldn’t get separated and swept away with the ongoing crowd.
People working in shops stood off to the side calling out wares that were for sale. The factories and laboratories made the streets feel more cramped as a few towered over others casting long shadows. The streets themselves were a hodgepodge of dirt paths going into cobbled stone as if someone tried to upgrade and gave up halfway through.
Finding an Alley that was devoid of people the three found refuge there away from the busy street. Aldrin had been holding his breath the whole time feeling weird because it felt as natural as breathing. His mind still tried to reconcile that it was no longer necessary to breathe. Knowing if he inhaled, the scents of the living would make him lose his mind especially since he hasn’t been fully satiated. Once again, the fear of civilization creeped in the back of his mind. This was dangerous but the reward of this all would be worth it.
“Alright now that we are here I have the first piece of the puzzle,” Aldrin announced, “Heilsdale Flower,” He said.
Jared and Pierre looked at him for an explanation.
“It’s a poison either to me or Vampires as a whole,” He explained.
“That’s what took you out last night? How many drinks did you have?” Jared asked, concern laced in his voice.
“It was three shots and it was enough to take me down,” Aldrin remembered.
Pierre huffed, “Heilsdale Flower huh. . .” He placed his hands on his hips.
“We’ll look for it then,” Jared said.
All of them stepped onto the road and split up from there. With this being the first time in Lor-Vold for Aldrin he was a bit lost as to where exactly to begin. So he had started walking back towards the entrance gate hoping to hear one of the street vendors advertising something that would be a lead. A part of him wished that Adeline was here with him knowing she had a knack for finding things that don’t want to be found. Of course that also made him shudder because of the scout Ingram that followed them which undoubtedly reported back to Adeline as soon as they entered the city. He knew they had to be quick if they were to escape before Adeline marched into town with her men demanding for the “Lord” Aldrin played.
Hopeful still, Aldrin walked along bumping into a group of Dark Elves who hissed at him even though they walked into him. Trying to keep himself from ripping into them he hurried away until he saw someone armored like a Paladin head into a shop called The Banished Beast. Intrigued, he window shopped along the street keeping The Banished Beast within sight until he saw the Paladin walk out and disappear among the crowd.
The door chimed upon entering, alerting the Hobgoblin clerk who turned around ready to greet the next customer with a toothy smile. Aldrin had to do a double take because the brown scaled Hobgoblin was wearing round black rimmed glasses that enlarged his brown eyes to a ridiculous degree and a checkered patterned black and cyan shirt that made him slightly dizzy if he stared too long.
The hobgoblin cleared his meaty throat, “Welcome to the Banished Beast! Where we sell potions fit for a monster’s weakness!” Its voice was guttural like its throat tightened up from speaking.
Blinking for a second, “Uh hi,” Aldrin gave a wave, stepping into the store fully. Glass cases filled with different colored potions were lit up from the inside and lined against the brick walls of the shop.
“First time in the city?” The clerk asked, noticing Aldrin’s eyes wander to the glass cases..
Aldrin nodded while the Hobgoblin returned a bigger smile.
“What are you looking for then? We’ve got poisons, antidotes, oils, remedies, and resistance potions?” The Hobgoblin listed.
“My village has a Feral Vampire problem and I need to know if there is anything that will help?” Aldrin lied.
The Hobgoblin tapped his chin with his clawed hand before snapping his fingers. He jumped down from the stool he stood on and ran to the furthest corner of the store where a step ladder leaned against the wall. He grabbed it and rushed back closer to Aldrin, stopping at a glass case that held a murky brown colored oil that was in a glass flask and a silver glowing potion. He gently pulled them both out one by one and sat them on the counter.
“These should help,” He offered the potions for Aldrin to Inspect.
Flask of Weakness: Reduce the target’s Stats by half on successful strike for five minutes.
Brew of the Moon: Gives immunity to Disease, Poison, and Curses for one hour.
“Is there one that cures Disease?” Aldrin asked with hope seeing that he was on the right track.
The Hobgoblin shook his head, “Only ones that prevent it from happening.”
“Do you know where I could go for potions like those?” Aldrin pressed.
“Someone bit?”
“Yes.”
The hobgoblin flattened his big long tipped ears, “Kill them. No hope for them.”
Taken aback at the abrupt response Aldrin figured he wouldn’t get any help here, “I’ll look somewhere else then, thanks for your time,” He said while leaving the store.
“Good luck though!” He heard the hobgoblin say before the door closed.
Back on the street Aldrin tugged on his hood as a breeze drifted by kicking up some dirt from the foot traffic. Stepping onto the highway so to speak he let himself walk along with the crowd looking at the various shops hoping to see something. For five hours he had walked along his section of the Production District and found nothing but dead ends. What was worse was that his need for blood had grown substantially and by then each person he looked at made his stomach erupt in sharp jabs.
He stumbled into one of the alleys between two buildings and sat down as the pain in his stomach grew. “Please, just a little longer,” He begged as the sun was beginning to make its downfall into the twilight hours.
Determined to keep heading towards The Gleaming Marigold hoping to cross paths with someone he braced himself against the wall and pushed himself back onto the street. Soon he felt strong hands grip both of his arms and dragged him off the street. With Daywalker still active he stood no chance against whoever this was.
“You don’t look so good,” Pierre addressed once they were off the street.
“How did you find me?” Aldrin was surprised that Pierre was the one to find him.
“I am a Tracker for one, for two you look like a stumbling old man that’s waddling around, and for three I heard you say my name on the wind if that makes sense?” Pierre frowned.
Aldrin frowned as well, “But I didn’t. . .well not exactly, I was just hoping to run into you or Jared,”
Then realization bloomed on their faces, “Servant,” They both said in unison.
“That’s a hidden perk then,” Aldrin surmised remembering the wispy light from earlier.
A flask with dark red liquid appeared in Pierre’s hand, “Here,” Offering it to Aldrin.
Aldrin took it and uncapped it, his Thirst compelling him to get every last drop, “Who’s blood is this?” He asked after finishing.
“Don’t worry about it because you would hate yourself even more and besides that, any luck with the cure?” Pierre inquired.
“Everything is a dead end on my sections. You?” Aldrin asked.
“Nothing either BUT I did find out more about the Heilsdale Flower and the Alchemist Profession,” Pierre said, helping Aldrin to his feet again. “We have to go find Jared though.”
Together they strode off towards Jared’s portion of the Production district where they easily found him as he too was on his way back to the inn. They exchanged information however Jared had a playful smirk on his face, “Guess what I learned.”
“What?” Aldrin asked.
“The Alchemists here have been capturing and experimenting on the Undead,” Jared informed.
Aldrin stopped walking, “That’s illegal! Do they want to have another outbreak like Vaultstrand?!”
“What happened in Vaultstrand?” Jared asked.
“Basically my whole reason for joining the Holy Order to begin with,” Aldrin said, still not ready to talk about it.
Both of them looked at each other then back at Aldrin waiting for him to explain more.
“Vaultstrand was home to a group of Tier 4 and 5 Mage Classes who sought immortality and turned themselves into liches by capturing the souls of the city in some crazy ritual and created a minor zombie apocalypse,” He let out to appease their curious looks.
Both of their eyebrows shot up to the top of their heads as their mouths hung open, “If the Alchemists here are trying to do the same as the Mages in Vaultstrand then we better hurry and get out of here,” Jared said after recovering from his shock.
The walk back was silent as each came to the grim resolve that Lor-Vold may be the next cataclysm if things went south. Arriving at The Gleaming Marigold, Thakheam gave them a wave and offered them shots which Pierre vehemently declined before they went to their usual corner booth. The inn wasn’t as crowded as it was last night when they first arrived but the night was still young before people started to return here to unwind. The three of them sat for another hour with them discussing the potential conflict in the Research District with the Alchemists studying the Undead they moved on to their next topic; the Heilsdale Flower.
“Apparently the Heilsdale Flower is the only known flora to have an effect against the Undead. It’s instant death if too much is used but little amounts act as a numbing agent for them,” Pierre explained.
“Can it be used to make a cure?” Aldrin asked.
Pierre shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe but I would have to take the Alchemist Profession and study it.”
“Then you would be known as the man that cured Vampirism,” Jared joked.
“Would that be something you’re willing to do?” Aldrin hesitantly asked.
Pierre studied Aldrin seeing the hope trying to surface, “I can try but I can’t make any promises,” He offered.
“Better than nothing so I’ll take it, thank you Pierre.”
Thakheam had brought ale to the table this time as well as grilled wolf ribs with carrots and green beans tossed in some type of sweet sauce. If Aldrin could cry he would as he wasn’t able to taste any of it as Jared and Pierre voraciously gobbled it down describing the flavors to Aldrin. Finishing up they each paid 55 Bronze coins for it. Aldrin had asked about the fee for the rooms which Jared ensured not to worry about it.
“Tomorrow, Pierre gets his Alchemist Profession and then we will see about these rumors about the study of Undead here,’ Aldrin proposed. Both of them nodded in agreement and retired to their rooms. Aldrin went on his own and undressed, dropping his armor on the floor to sleep in his shirt and pants. Closing his eyes, Aldrin got comfy and settled in for the night ignoring the alert of his Daywalker disabling.
“Help ussss,” A disjointed wispy voice whispered in his ear.
Aldrin bolted up, his sword drawn as the full might of his Stats and abilities flooded back to him. He searched the room but found nothing even with his predator vision activated.
“Help ussss,” The same wispy voice whispered in his ear again.
This time Aldrin whipped around facing the window, he tentatively walked towards it, sword angled for a quick lunge. Opening the window he looked around at the street below him but was greeted with only patrolling guards.
“Help ussss, pleassseee!” This time Aldrin heard the pain in its voice as his gaze locked onto the area where the Research District was located. An intense rage bubbled up and threatened to radiate outwards before it settled back to wherever it had come from.
“Shit. . .” Aldrin’s tense shoulders dropped as he lowered his sword.