Unnerved by the amount of zombies gathered, Aldrin didn’t let it show, “How long until you attack?” He hesitantly asked.

The Zombie Giant moaned thoughtfully, “A month and we will have the strength,” it answered, making the zombies howl and groan in anticipation.

Taking a hard gulp Aldrin steeled himself, “If I help you I kill the city and possibly cripple the world.”

All eyes flickered to him, making Aldrin feel smaller than he already was. “You would side with the Living?” the horde asked.

A few zombies clacked their jaws as if they were preparing to rip into something. “Well, I need the living to live?” he tested.

The rising frenzy of the horde diminished soon after, “So do we, but the living have made their choice when they declared war on us for trying to live,” The Giant replied.

Aldrin could not argue with that, knowing that he would be killed the moment he revealed himself, feral or not. “What if I give you specific targets to destroy?” he asked.

“If it frees those who are captured, we will concede,” The Giant spoke for the horde that moaned in agreement.

“I will come back a week before a month is up then,” Aldrin offered.

All the lifeless eyes of the horde flickered to Aldrin, “We accept the terms Midnight Lord,” the horde answered before they began to bury themselves again.

He watched them all cover themselves, blending into the natural environment. After the last group was buried, he ran, the sunset rays irritating his skin when his hood flopped off in his mad dash. He had to hurry and catch Pierre to adjust their plans as they had decided beforehand to spend quite some time here developing his Profession.

The hues of purple and orange intermixed with the blue sky as the sun let nightfall embrace Grenora. Feeling the beginning of his powers brimming to return to him, Aldrin attempted Shapechange, flickering back and forth between the swarm of bats and himself. Once the last rays of the sun dropped below the horizon, Aldrin took off, flying as fast as he could through the air, careful to avoid prying eyes. He knew people rarely looked up, but that still didn’t keep him from being cautious as he traveled over the walled city, fluttering past the still busy streets of people trying to get the last of their shopping done. He aimed for his open window at the Inn, crashing through it before anyone could take a guess at what flew overhead.

Reforming, he attempted to call out for Pierre through the Servant bond. Strangely, a pinging sensation was sent down by an invisible tendril, leaving the mind of Aldrin altogether. He waited for a response, so he drank the last of the blood vial and waited for Pierre.

An hour went by and Pierre was nowhere to be found still, so he fell into meditation on his bed trying to gleam how many potential zombies were in the Research District.

“Help usss,” was all he got in return.

He couldn’t rightly barge in there as the Research District was restricted to only the Profession or Class of Alchemist. A knock broke his concentration. He hopped up and opened for Pierre to come in.

“What’s the emergency?” Pierre hurriedly asked.

Aldrin told him of the meeting with the zombie horde by Karvendal. Pierre’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of an impending Undead attack in a month. “So we gotta hurry,” he concluded after telling everything.

“That’s an understatement,” Pierre laughed nervously.

“I am kind of useless here, honestly,” Aldrin stated.

Pierre scoffed, “Not necessarily. You’re the only one who can talk to the Undead and understand them in equal measure.”

“I guess you’re right,” he nodded.

Looking out the window towards the Research District, “Did you get your Profession by the way?” Aldrin asked.

“I did, but I have to spend a lot of time making specific potions in order to rank up the Skills,” He grinned.

“Meaning you’ll be in a lab all day?”

“When they assign me one, yeah,”

“How did you have to get it? What was the test?”

“I had to brew Minor Health and Magic potions to be considered, then I had to do it three more times for each before the System gave me the option to pick it as my Class or Profession.”

“That sounds like a headache,” Aldrin chuckled.

Pierre rubbed his forehead, revealing minor red welts of being burned could be seen on his fingers, “You have no idea man.”

“What will you do until Jared comes with your sister?”

He thought about it for a little bit, “Probably see what other hidden Vampire tricks I have,”

“So you have thought about what you will do if you can’t be cured?”

He scrunched up his face, “No, I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’m still trying to adjust to my life now.” He chuckled more.

Pierre didn’t speak after that, taking the time to go over his to-do list regarding his Profession.

Alchemist Profession Tree:

Life-Giver:

Level 1: Health and Magic Potions heal 5% more(8/50)

Derivative Results:

Level 1: Your improvised Potions will be 5% more effective(0/50)

Taste of the Mad (High Vitality Recommended)

Level 1: Ingesting ingredients gives you a better understanding of how to use them(0/100)

Alchemical Forger

Level 1: 10% success chance for new Potions created(0/10)

“OH FUCK YES!” Pierre pumped his fist.

Aldrin looked at him, making his face go red from the outburst. “I’m assuming it’s something good?” He gently asked.

“Potentially; and this is not to promise you anything, but I have a Skill that would boost my chances of making a cure for you,” Pierre announced.

Fully turning around, Aldrin hugged the man that awkwardly patted his back, “Thank you,” he pulled back.

“No problem,” he replied.

“Now I just hope Adeline comes rushing to the rescue like usual,” Aldrin quipped.

“What is she like? You seem to care a lot for her approval, or at least something like that?” Pierre asked.

Aldrin turned to face Pierre again, giving a sad smile. “She raised me practically, and it’s her voice I hear in my head whenever I am faced with a choice or unsure of which direction to go.”

Pierre sat back, “And would she be proud of you now?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know if she would hug me or kill me thinking I am possessed. She’s an extremist when it comes to the people she loves,” He reminisced.

“What about your family?”

Pierre raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know. Jared and I looked for them the first thing we could, but this world is massive and easy to get lost in,” Pierre quietly said, looking at the floor.

“I will help any way I can,” Aldrin offered, staring intently into the brown eyes of Pierre.

“Huh, guess it’s my time to thank you then,” He nervously laughed off the overwhelming sincerity Aldrin conveyed. “But no, I don’t think I want to find them. We left things on bad terms and I don’t know if I can face them after all these years again, here of all places.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, you have my help,” Aldrin dropped the subject.

“Thanks,” Pierre smiled, grateful he had dropped the subject.

Pierre’s stomach growled, forcing him to depart to the first floor of the inn. Aldrin promised he would be down in a little bit. Giving a casual wave of acknowledgement, Pierre placed down another blood vial from his inventory.

Pierre saw Aldrin’s confused glance, “One day when you’re cured I’ll tell you,” He smiled and shook his head.

Once the door closed, Aldrin dove deep into meditation again, trying to pinpoint the horde of zombies by Karvendal that constantly sent a pulse back to him. He wasn’t sure if it meant that the horde was ever increasing by the amount or pulses or if they were communicating with him. Choosing to think more about it later he went downstairs walking into a party.

Bards and Minstrels sang and danced on tables with their instruments. Thakheam was in full swing as he and another Dwarf worked to replenish the revolving tankards that filled the bar top. That didn’t stop Aldrin from etching his way to the bar.

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Thakheam turned around, “AYE ALDRIN MY BOY! Have a drink!” He bellowed with a happy-go-lucky smile placing a frothing ale in front of him. It sloshed onto the bar top but Thakheam paid it no mind.

The Inn was packed to the brim as Elves, Humans, a few Dwarves and Goblins drank, danced, and sang their hearts out. Pierre was lost amongst the crowd, setting Aldrin on edge as he hoped he wasn’t off having too many drinks. The wrong word of the plans their group possesses and not only would a threat be literally lying in wait outside the city, but the inside would no longer be safe. So Aldrin kept his hearing tuned to listen for Pierre’s soft-spoken voice.

The night went on with the party as more tried to squeeze into the inn but failed to do so. Aldrin had to step outside as one too many people bumped into him, making the beast inside rear its ugly head in offense. Choosing to seclude himself away from other people in the courtyard, he hoped no one would bother him as he gained control over himself.

“Enjoying yourself?” A melodic voice tickled his ears.

Picking his head up from staring into his half filled tankard, bright pink upturned shaped eyes filled his vision first. The woman in front of him had glossy amethyst skin that sparkled like she had little rhinestones beneath her skin whenever the light gleamed off her. Long pink colored hair that matched her eyes draped over her petite frame. She wore leather armor much like his own, but the chest guard was silver that made Aldrin’s skin crawl.

“I needed some fresh air,” Aldrin gave an easy smile, which eased her tense shoulders.

“I’m sorry to be so forward about this, but are you some type of Fae?” she examined him.

Aldrin laughed, “No, no I am not, sorry.” he waved her off.

“It’s alright,” she smiled, taking the seat across from him. “I just thought since your skin was glowing that you would be one?”

“My skin glows?” Confusion dawned on Aldrin’s face.

The woman’s eyes went wide as saucers, “Well no! Not like actually glow. . .but like shine?” she stammered.

“It’s just that I’m a Fae,” she leaned in and whispered.

“Is that why your eyes are pink and you have amethyst colored skin?” Aldrin asked, trying to hide the surprise of one of the Fae talking to him.

“Oh smooth, let’s just ask the nice woman about her skin,” Aldrin mentally kicked himself.

The woman gasped, “You can see through my Visage?” she whispered again.

“Am I not supposed to?” Aldrin whispered back.

“Only a few Races are able to,” she said matter-of-factly.

“So what are you, then? A Moon Elf? Dark Elf? A halfling? You’re definitely not part Goblin. . .” She trailed off.

Aldrin scratched the back of his head, “Uh. Well. It’s complicated.” he dodged.

“I like complicated,” Her eyes glinted with mischievousness.

Aldrin nearly spat out his drink. “Oh trust me! You don’t want these complications!” He got up in a rush, speed walking away.

He maneuvered through the throngs of people to get back to the bar.

“Wow, no one’s been able to walk away from me before!” The woman sidled up next to him, beaming with excitement.

Aldrin laughed awkwardly, “Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to; I can’t.” He took another swig, flaring his eyebrows to get Thakheam’s attention, who was promptly ignoring him.

She snorted, “Did you think I wanted to. . .” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“You didn’t?” he asked cluelessly.

She giggled, running her finger around the rim of her cup, “No.”

“Oh, thank god!” Aldrin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Gee, am I that bad?” she teased.

“Uh. No. Not at all,” Aldrin replied, gulping down a big swig of ale to avoid the awkwardness.

“What brings you to Lor-Vold?” he asked, attempting to fix the atmosphere between them.

She bit her lip, then glanced at him. “I’m looking for someone. Someone important,” she answered.

Before he could ask who, cheering erupted, drowning out anything else that might have been said. Another upbeat song began to strum as the people in the inn gathered around together to sing along.

Aldrin turned his attention back to her, “Loud noises get you or are you worried about someone bumping into you?” she asked.

“New Skills,” He attempted to pass it off.

An easygoing smile bloomed on her, “It’s ok, we all have our secrets,” she said.

“Torvina Palmwings,” she offered her pink hand to Aldrin.

Aldrin looked at briefly, “Relax, if you don’t want to be found, your secret is safe with me,” she reassured with her hand still outstretched.

She waited a moment, and he still said nothing.

“Well, that’s alright too Aldrin,” she teasingly said.

He stared as she moved in closer, thinking she was unaware of the danger she just put herself in. “If you are going to kill me, then you’re going to have to kill him too,” she gestured to Thakheam.

“Then you’re going to have to kill everyone in this inn, then this city, then who’s going to help you?” Her smile quirked.

“When you are ready to be who you are, call out to me and I will come. Have a good night,” she whispered, then gave him a wink and vanished in a puff of smoke no one else seemed to notice, leaving her cup where she placed it.

Aldrin quickly glanced around him, seeing if anybody was watching him. He quickly grabbed her cup, bringing it to his mouth to fake taking a drink from it and inhaled deeply. The same chocolate cake scent he smelled in the forest over their first group of bandits to kill Gyt flooded his nose.

Thakheam soon came over, switching out Aldrin’s nearly empty tankard for a new freshly filled one. “Where’d the young lass go?” he yelled over the blaring crowd.

“She’s nearby, I believe,” he stared at her cup in his hand.

Thakheam chortled, “You can’t win ‘em all.”

“Tell me about it,” Aldrin flashed a brief smile.

“Wait, what did she look like to you?” he snapped his head up.

“What do ye mean lad? You were lookin right at 'er?”

“Nevermind, Goodnight Thakheam,” Aldrin shook his head, getting up. He ventured back up to his room, leaving the party altogether since his mood soured.

Too many major things were happening all at once, first Lor-Vold is corrupt, then the Queen is corrupt, now there’s an Undead assault preparing for a siege, Jared’s getting his sister who would no doubt attempt to save the day, and now the reclusive Fae have made themselves known to him.

Aldrin’s mind spun at the kind of life he was now living. All he wanted to do was join the Holy Order and become a decently good Paladin. How he ranged so far from that still boggled his mind. He needed stability and normalcy, desired it above anything but this world wasn’t going to grant him any of that. Not anymore.

Restless still, he decided to open his window and do some reconnaissance. He activated Shapechange and flew above the city to get a bird's-eye view of it all. The three sections of the city blended seamlessly into an L-shape, with the Production district being the entry point to it all. Of course, he needed to know where exactly the Undead were going to strike so he could map out the route.

Stopping cold in his train of thoughts, “Am I really siding with them?”

On one hand they had a point about having a right to live. It was a law that all sentient creatures capable of complex thought rather than base instinct have a right to live. But were the Undead really considered a sentient Race capable of complex thought? He reflected on himself, the cool night air helping him think, the feeling of weightlessness continued to be his partner as he traveled through the sky.

He was an Undead, but he was also a normal Human before that, so what changed? A part of him enjoyed the new perks of what it means to be a Vampire, a small part at least. The other part detested the need to feed on the living. He worried one bad day would be enough to give into his bloodlust making him Feral. It was already hard enough as it is not breathing the city’s air because of what might send him over the edge. However, he technically hasn’t had to do the deed himself since Jared or Pierre supplied him for the day to keep him functioning.

Would he be ok with staying a Vampire? It would be a hard life to live, not to mention the Queen would probably put a ridiculous ransom on his head to capture him alive for whatever experiments if word got back to her. On the other hand, the powers granted to him offered him the ability to become a force reckoned with. Something he ultimately wanted to be as a Paladin against those that wanted to do harm. Could he still be one? Just for the other side? Maybe both sides? He immediately closed that line of thinking for the moment.

A small pulse grabbed his attention that was situated just little outside the city’s gates among the reddish-brown plains. Angling for direction, he flew, reforming away from any prying eyes of the city. He looked around for the sender of the ping, his night vision enabling him to see perfectly in the darkness. Remembering how he had found the zombies before, he looked around for oddly shaped mounds of dirt. Seeing that nothing disturbed, he slowly waded forward. Trusting in his Vampiric Awareness he kept all of his senses attuned to pick up anything.

“Well, you’re a bit of a stupid one, ain’t ya? Or are ya a slow learner?” A disembodied snarky voice said.

Aldrin felt the pin prickle of something stepping into his radius. He shifted around, looking for the owner of the voice, but nothing stood out to him in the darkness.

The ghostly head of a Human slowly rose from the earth. He was old and his face was leathered and sun-kissed from the long hours outside. A stab wound could be seen leaking from the neck of the apparition, giving away how he had died. He was dressed in a straw hat, blue overalls with a white linen shirt that covered his potbelly, he was barefoot, and covered in blood from his neck down.

Name: Unknown

Race: Ghost

Class: Soul Harvester (Tier 3)

Level: 47

“Oh no, I’m not doing this!” Aldrin marched away from the Ghost, who floated along behind him.

“I’m yer designated messenger for the big man, so either yer gonna like it or we’re gonna have a problem,” The Ghost taunted.

Stopping suddenly, “A problem?” Aldrin narrowed his eyes at the ghost as he floated in front of him.

“A problem short stuff,” The Ghost responded, looking at his nails.

The hold he had on his Vampiric nature slipped as he growled at the ghost, drawing his steel sword.

“And ya don’t even have silver to harm me with? What kind of Midnight Lord are ya anyway?”

“I bet ya don’t even have the skills to harm me neither. Why couldn’t we get a better Vampire?” He rolled his eyes.

“I have plenty of Skills!” He said through gritted fangs.

“Where?” He fired back.

“Wait! Other Vampires? Like me?” Aldrin ignored the jab to his ego.

“Whatcha mean like you? What makes you so special?”

“I am the Progenitor for one,” Aldrin stood proudly.

The Ghost laughed haughtily, “No ya ain’t.”

“You’re nothing but scared of who ya could be if ya just let go. It oozes off of ya and it’s gonna get ya killed one day, I can promise you that.”

Aldrin had no comeback for that as the Ghost hit home.

“Now I called ya here to introduce myself seeing as we are gonna be working together. The name’s Hyde Hall,” He tipped his spectral straw hat in Aldrin’s direction.

“What do I owe the pleasure of calling the Baby?” Hyde asked, floating around in a circle observing Aldrin.

“Progenitor is fine,” Aldrin gritted out.

Hyde scoffed, “Yeah. Ok. Baby it is then.”

“Now what ya got for me so I can report?” Hyde rubbed his hands together.

“Nothing. I don’t even know how you guys are going to attack.” Aldrin answered truthfully.

“Oh, we are already surrounding the city,” Hyde curled in on himself to make it seem like he was sitting on air.

Eyes wide as saucers, “I thought you guys weren’t attacking until a month from now?”

“We are,” Hyde picked his nose and flicked it.

“Then why are you surrounding now?”

“Lots of bodies and I don’t know if you know this or not, but Zombies move kinda slow when trying to organize.”

“Where?”

“All around us or are ya blind too?” Hyde floated upwards, opening his arms wide.

Sighing, “I’ll have something tomorrow night.”

“I’ll tell the boss man then. He is eager to begin.” Hyde said.

Aldrin’s hearing picked up a roar that sounded like nails on a chalkboard as his hands shot up to his ears. Hyde simply floated there and slightly gloated at the fact that it didn’t bother him.

“Best get a move on Baby. The others have arrived and aren’t keen on taking directions from someone weak like you,” Hyde offhandedly remarked.

“Soon I won’t be like this anyways,” Aldrin muttered to himself, causing Hyde to laugh so hard his neck wound started to bleed.

“A Cure? For a Progenitor? Let me know how that works out!” Hyde disappeared into the ground, laughing all the way.

“Fucking asshole,” Aldrin said then used Shapechange to get a good look of the city again now that he knew what the plan was.