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"That will be fun!" Alice is excited about the idea of being able to teach someone some of her skills. Though there's not much time to talk about it during the run. Heimrich gestures Vance to start slowing down, then to follow him as he begins to curve over to the right. After a few seconds spent slowing to a normal walk with Alice now walking with them, they see open light between the trees and the sounds of hovercars whirring ahead of them. They step out of the treeline along the road, seeing the town's edge just a mile up the road from them. Even with them taking the time to teach Vance how to use his natural strengths, it's been less than five minutes for them to cross hundreds of miles of forest to exit Atticus's territories back into Vedran proper. It likely would take only a minute to return at the new pace Vance has found himself capable of. Not bad. Heimrich is thinking so as well. "We made pretty good time," He mentions as the three begin making the much longer feeling walk into town. With company at least it feels a little quicker.
"It's almost hard to believe it would take us a day to go this far, even when we were able to get a ride from someone," Alice remarks of their time on the Run from the Templars.
"Yeah. I was a lot more afraid of being discovered back then. By Templars or by the government. At this point I'm more worried about a Senator trying to recruit me."
The dislike that is tangible in the air between the Cross family weapon and the Crosses themselves draws some confused glances out of Heimrich, though he keeps it mostly to himself. Its not like he prefers its awakened state over when it was just a greatsword. Its history is an enigma to him, and it looks like it'll stay that way for now. That's fine for him, they have more important things to worry about right now.
While Heimrich complies, Revan's unique method of casting certainly holds his curiosity. It's the same kind of magic, Revan is Samantha's teacher when it comes to her space magic after all. Yet, even he can sense the immense depth behind it. It's like comparing his Aura when it was unlocked to after he unified it, a completely different level and way it is used. The best he can explain it, is that Samantha doesn't have to say the incantation after years of practice. Revan doesn't because it is his right. Scary...
Thrak's plan is solid, as Farnus is full of visible openings to strike. The boy is ignoring not only him, but the sounds and words of Thrak readying himself and his spear. And still ignores him as he grabs with both clawed hands a large piece of trail jerky, as the end of the spear blurs and strikes him in the side.
The impact reverberates through the entirety of Thrak's spear up through his arm. He didn't hit the side of a boy. He hit a solid, unmoving wall of iron. It's only after the impact that the boy moves. And he turns fully into where he was struck and approaching with a step in one fluid movement. The black scaled tail swings behind him, carving through the cabinets like carving through fog, and the advancing clawed foot breaks the tile underneath it. The red eyes of Farnus are now locked back onto Thrak, pointed teeth fixed into an annoyed scowl as his arms tremble, his fingers digging into the jerky but unwilling to let go.
An old way to trap some of the more intelligent vermin was placing food inside a trap that has spikes pointing inward. An open hand can reach into the trap and grab the food, but the closed fist was unable to get past the spikes. The vermin would be in distress, but would be unwilling to let go of its prize, effectively trapped by its own greed. With the boy now closer to the lizardman, and with the length of his arms, and how his tail alone sliced through wood, metal, and stone with no resistance, it is possible that Thrak is only still alive due to the greed of Farnus.
But it may not be that way for long. Farnus may not see Thrak as a threat to himself, but he is a threat to his prizes in this room. His tail slams down through the tile floor as a growl builds in his chest. The jerky loses its form as it becomes strings in his two-fisted grip, and finally comes apart. With his hands still closed into fists around the dried meat Farnus slowly begins to advance further on Thraks, forcing him either to give way or draw close enough to be struck by a blow he may or may not survive.
On the Run
The familiarity of this path is the only thing that is keeping Heimrich's mind focused. His senses are bombarded by a blinding array of sounds and smells that he has never experienced. Everything is heightened, between hearing every scurrying animal and rustling leaf around him, bizarre smells he can only attribute to the plants around him, every slight change in air pressure and current where he walks, and the deafening symphony of the forest. It is a terrible struggle to muffle this stream of information. In time Heimrich gives up on it entirely, letting it buffet him every which way. The only solution left to him is to accustom himself to it.
"Someone is coming."
Heimrich stops dead in his tracks. He barely heard it underneath the drone of insect wings, a faint whisper from somewhere ahead of him. Survival instincts take over, rapidly honed by the calm of a seasoned soldier. The echoes of the whisper against the trees triangulates to ahead of him and to the left, a little more than thirty meters away. It was a man's voice. And that statement was made for at minimum one other person. The world begins to slow around him as he makes note of another fact. He wasn't making much noise, now that he was out of his armor and just in scorched rags. And where the voice came from did not have line of sight. They took notice of him from smell or sound alone at this great distance. They weren't human. With his sudden stop at their spoken word, that is likely something they noticed as well. He isn't human either.
Without a word both parties meet in the middle, Heimrich's feet sliding across the ground as he begins to come to a stop inside the treeline. Three people are there to meet him, differing levels of caution, fear, and anger on their faces. A man and two women, the man the most cautious and wanting to escape. The women are less desiring to. One appears in her thirties, the other younger than Heimrich. They all wear heavy clothes, fully covering their bodies and wearing hats to shield themselves from the sun. Heimrich does note as the women lunge at him with slashing hands that they are careful to remain in the shadows and out of the sun. His training and studies direct him to one creature. Vampires. Yet, they all look too healthy to be Frae. Frae also can't move this quickly. Faster than a human, yes, but not like this, not fast enough to still move when the rest of the world has seemingly stopped. An unknown strain? Creatures existing like this would devastate any local populace unchecked, and would have easily slain him before.
However, fresh memories have bored their way into Heimrich's mind. He had seen these three before. When his mind was being consumed by whatever monster had infested him. He had found their hideout, hidden so carefully underneath the trees, and feasted upon the trapped coven hiding inside. These three faces he remembers seeing. They must have escaped, only to run into him again. The hint of guilt that peaked out was smothered instantly by Heimrich's disdain for these creatures of the underworld. The method he had used to kill their companions was disturbing and disgusts him, though he does not regret their deaths. Nor will it trouble him to finish the job.
The older of the two women is closest. She is reaching to pierce through his face with nails elongation into claws, yet the closer she gets and the more prepared Heimrich becomes, the slower she moves. The gap between them dawns on Heimrich, even as he hears her slow and garbled speech as he prepares the punish.
"You t-" She didn't have the time to finish the word as Heimrich blurs, curving under her lunging arm and delivering a counter to her jaw. There is little resistance to Heimrich's fist as it blows her lower jaw to pieces and nearly twists her head off. Her own momentum carries her limp body forward tumbling past Heimrich. He looks to attack the girl who freezes in shock at what happens, but the sound of the man surging towards him forces him to abort the opportunity. The downwards swipe is almost trivial to avoid, and would be just as trivial to counter as he did to the woman. The opportunity slips away without concern from Heimrich. This could be a rare opportunity to limit test his new strength and speed, gained from this beastial transfiguration.
"Run!" The girl reacts to the make vampire's word and flees after one last look at Heimrich. He lets her go for now, more focused on moving out of the path of the fists now coming for him. For Heimrich it is a simple affair to move just enough out of the way of the slow strikes. But for the man, the monster in human skin is an intangible wraith, unable to be caught. All until Heimrich grows tired of it and brings his hand up straight as the vampires have. With his left hand the tips of his fingers cut through the wrist and tendon of the vampire's right, and with a fluid arc slash open his throat.
The vampire stumbles back and clutches his gushing throat with his working hand as the passage of time comes surging back. Heimrich callously watches the man's breath gurgle in his throat, blood dripping from his fingertips. That callousness breeds slowly emerging surprise under his furrowed brow as the vampire's gurgling ebbs away, before he coughs and spits up the blood that made its way into his lungs. His hand moves away from his throat, covered in blood, as the wound finishes healing over. The vampire coughs, twisting his wrist that likewise healed, unsure of why he was still alive. He gets his answer soon enough. "I'm sorry, I was expecting that to kill you. It would have been enough for a Frae."
The man stares at Heimrich in disbelief, before he chuckles to himself at the absurdity of the situation. He can feel his concerns drifting away, he knows now that his throat being slashed was meant to kill and not to toy with him. There is no chance he is walking out of this alive. He may as well die without fear poisoning his heart. "You hunted our colony without even knowing what we are?" Heimrich does not give him a response, and the vampire shrugs it off with a sigh. He digs through a pocket and pulls out a box of smokes. "Ah well, what can you do. Such is life. Always a bigger, meaner fish." The suicide lights itself between his lips as he takes in a heavy drag, letting the smoke escape through his nose.
"Tell me," Heimrich starts, letting the vampire make his peace. "What is the most painless way to kill your kind?"
The vampire snorts at that, smoke seeping from his mouth as he talks. "Painless? Are you new to this killing business? No, you're used to killing. Just not like this. You're new to the underworld. A newborn monster." Heimrich clenching a fist earns a smile from the vampire, and gave him his answer. "Well then, on behalf of all those you killed when you weren't of sound mind, and all those to come by your own volition, allow me to give you something." The vampire reaches behind his neck and unclasps the chain necklace he is wearing and approaches Heimrich, offering out to him. "Better as a gift, than looted off my corpse."
Heimrich looks at it, unprepared for this. This is far from the first time his heart was troubled by the things he had to slay. But these people were the first he has attacked with the intention to kill of his own choice. He was not under order by the Templars or savagely unaware of his own actions. He made this choice, of his own personal creed. The vampire means this gift as a reminder of the bloody road he has chosen to walk. Heimrich accepts it, taking the time to put the necklace on. The man nods approvingly, before deciding the time was right. "There is no painless way to kill a Supernatural vampire, but there are quick ways. Destroying the heart is best, and the shock is usually enough to kill the rest of the body shortly after. Or remove the head. If you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer the heart. I'd like to go in one piece."
Heimrich silently nods, before his arm disappears in a blur through the man's chest. He siezes in shock, grabbing a hold of Heimrich's arm in reflex. He coughs blood that splatters on Heimrich's chest and tattered shirt, but he musters the strength to say his last words. "What's- Your name?"
"Heimrich."
The vampire smiles. "Ennil. It's- It's been- a... a..."
He doesn't have the time to finish. Heimrich feels Ennil's last breath rattle through his system as the suicide falls from his lips. Heimrich supports his body as he lays it down on the ground, pulling his fist out of his chest as he does so. Standing over the lifeless vampire, Heimrich is compelled to finish what he had started. "It's been a pleasure, Ennil." A hand goes to his neck, feeling each link of the necklace given to him as he turns towards the woman he had struck. Heimrich walks over to her, the woman looking up at him glassy eyed with her lower jaw missing, despite the rest of her body being face down. While he didn't know if she was properly dead or not, he wouldn't take the risk. Especially when he hears and smells someone approaching. Heimrich finishes cutting off the woman's head with one swipe as the girl returned to see him complete the deed. Heimrich knows she is behind him, and doesn't turn around. He can smell and taste in the air her fear and rising hatred. There is none of that in Heimrich's voice. "He told you to run."
He hears the ear-splitting scream of rage behind him, carrying on even as time comes to a crawl. Turning around, Heimrich sees her running towards him full-tilt, even faster than Ennil or the woman. Far faster. He can see the reason in her eyes, now glowing red as her face twists in hatred. Desiring nothing more than to rip him to shreds for what he has done. Her fingers become claws, which then come together into a deadly point to pierce his heart. In her rage the girl does not see Heimrich run the nail of his forefinger across his thumb, testing something before he lets her strike him.
The spear of the girl's attack breaks on Heimrich's skin, her fingers breaking and her mangled hand crumpling further onto itself with the energy behind the attack. And yet as she slowly realizes compared to Heimrich that her hail mary failed, she was lucky that it was not as tough as it is now. Unbeknownst to both, a white sheen builds up from within Heimrich, crawling up through his body and into his left arm as he prepares to end this now before she suffers further. A streak of white follows the arc of Heimrich's hand as it cuts through her neck, separating her head from her shoulders. Her eyes remain confused as Heimrich catches her head, slowly losing their light as Heimrich watches.
Heimrich steps aside as her body topples forward, taking one final look at her face before setting her dead down by its body. She looks like she is barely twenty. If she was truly that age, or has been that way for hundreds of years he does not know. It's nothing more than useless musings, at this point. Without another look back Heimrich heads back to the trail, leaving the bodies to nature as they rapidly decompose. The centuries gained are reclaiming the long dead, and shortly after there is no trace of what transpired here, except blood-soaked clothes. The only one who will know is the man who committed the deed, and the reminder that now glitters on the silent slayer's neck.
Slowing down a walking pace, Vance sees why Heimrich motioned for him to do so. They were pretty close to the town now, he didn't notice that... He'll have to work on his own perception based skills so he doesn't end up running into a city or something in the future. It wasn't the first time he ventured into a town of the future like this. One brimming with impressive tech and flying cars, but it was still a neat sight to behold.
Even if he was still more fond of a more rustic or 'countryside'-like lifestyle.
Thinking on what happened in the short time since he left the wolf village he did feel like it will be easier to get himself into the mindset of using the new physical heights he can achieve. He won't need to use his power to attempt to get close to there... Yet again he is brought back to a common thought since he woke up in this new life. This primal power is weird.
This certainly won't be the last time he thinks that.
In the meantime.
The goofy pair reminiscing fondly of their time as fugitives hits Vance as strange. But who was he to call them weird.
Heimrich's justified worry certainly something that resonated with Vance. The last thing they needed right now was some Senator taking interest in them... The Senate as a whole was something that Salem saw as a potential resource, but one to be wary of. Even for all his arrogance, Salem knew that if he ever had to work with the Senate it would be a one time deal. Though such a plan will likely never happen now, not unless some everyone's luck turns really really bad.
"Beside the fact that we really don't need that kind of attention on us, as long as your moral compass is pretty loose it wouldn't be a bad way to make money." Vance says as he follows the pair into town, looking up and around and taking in the sights. "Though I'd prefer employment that isn't permanent and with so many strings."
"Mm, yeah. Getting tied up with a Senator, even if they aren't that bad, you're never getting out. I can just imagine the bureaucratic nightmare just requesting some time off would be." Heimrich clicks his tongue in annoyance and kicks at the ground as they start to mingle with the residential traffic along the road. "Just thinking about it is annoying."
Alice remains focused upon the independent employment idea. Back home things were far from tame like it is in the east- Shadow forests cover the entirety of South Vedran, something that made urbanization very difficult, along with underworld dealings that they were not aware of between Vedran and the secret nation of Amaurat. There was little beyond towns, scattered minor cities, and villages in these forests, only lightly regulated and protected by the government. Monsters and Supernatural creatures abound, which is why some of the population that possessed power put themselves out there to defend these communities on their own. The Senate does little to police these areas, but they likewise do nothing to limit vigilante justice and mercenaries selling their services. Being from Tropica, a small village on the southern border of the Crimson Range, both Heimrich and Alice were familiar with powered humans that went from village to village clearing out monster nests and defending places from attacks. They had a name for people in such a field. "What about becoming a Ranger?" This gets Heimrich's attention too as Alice activates her wrist-comm, opening up a holographic screen in front of them. She taps away on the hook keyboard as the other two watch on. She pulls up a number of articles of empowered people helping communities, from a young looking elf boy with white hair accelerating a vegetable garden's growth, to an article framed around a hurriedly taken picture of two men fighting invading Frae in a bar, to a man in a sleeveless robe with his chest and arms covered in tattooes summoning purple lightning to combat a terribly monstrous Molochodon. "This here is Alban, he's been doing this since we were kids." Alice points at the man in the robe, playing the attached video. His black hair waves about from wind generated by his own body as the Molochodon roars at him, and his response is to summon lightning from within his tattoos and blast the creature until it retreats from the village limits.
Watching the video, Heimrich makes a realization. "With what I know now, I bet Alban uses Aura. Would explain why he's barely aged."
Alice taps her chin with a finger from her free hand. "Hmmm, I suppose that would make sense."
Vance's brow furrowed with confusion as as Alice brought up something called a 'Ranger'. He hasn't heard of this occupation before but it looks like Heimrich knows. The video footage that Alice brought up did fill in some gaps, the Elf accelerating the growth of food and the robed man fighting a monstrous beast certainly gave him some context clues. These 'Rangers' must be like mercenaries except they work exclusively in the shadow forests?
'It can't just be that...'
Vance looked back to the robed man when Alice referred to him by name. Though not one he's ever heard before. Looks like this 'Alban' person never came across the Templar Order in the Lullian Shadow Forest. Or at least he never came to Fort Arcius or the Citadel... Maybe he went to one of the other 2 forts in the shadow forest besides Arcius.
Having Heimrich claim that Alban must be an Aura user had Vance looking back to the picture of him using that strange purple lightning. It very well could be, after all Duncan and his family came up with Hades Cannon which is a stupidly named technique that looks like Scarlet Lightning that can boosts physical attributes and doubles as a devastating long ranged attack. "That purple lightning, it could be a personal technique... If I had to guess the natures... Maybe Storm and Destruction. You would definitely need firepower like that to beat one of those angry no neck Molochodon's." He would need to see the technique in person to be sure. But the wind around him is the only indication that it might be Storm nature and not just Lightning.
Though back to Alice's suggestion, working as a Ranger and sticking to Shadow Forests does like a decent idea. Urban areas and cities, while doable, would be harder to fight in for him. Though maybe not... Remove would let him limit collateral damage. "How would someone become a 'Ranger' exactly? Like is there an office we would need to go to?"
"No, it's more like a title for people who choose to do that. Like a handyman."
"Except you might have to fight a monster instead of fixing the plumbing," Heimrich adds.
On the Run
If any other vampire's survived, they were taking great care to not make themselves known. Heimrich doesn’t go out of his way to search for them either. By the time the trees became familiar the sun was shining high above him, shining over the bleak sight that awaits him as he breaks the treeline.
Fort Arcius. The first outpost made beyond the Citadel, and the base of operations for their work in the Crimson Range. A silent tomb. The sounds of marching boots performing drills, the barking orders of Ghyll complaining about another thing he did, gone. There is not a soul on the walls now, no one keeping watch for creatures attempting to approach the Citadel, or scouts from the watchtower further into the Range. The crunch of crumbled stone from the walls breaking under his foot is the only sound not of nature as he passes through the main gate. Three days. Heimrich looks up at the chapel's solitary tower as he walks by. Only three days have passed, yet all life feels to have been pulled out of this place. He does not known if that is true, or if it is just his attachment to this place having died with him during the Frae attack. The only things still here for him are in the barracks. Although...
Heimrich stops in his tracks, before turning back to the main chapel doors, wrenched open from the attack. He still remembers holding them shut against the horde, but that isn't what holds his attention now. It's a foreboding feeling, this sensation that crawls up his spine. A feeling that he must confirm, else he would never know peace. If it could even be found for him now. The steps he takes are slow, but it does not take him long to enter the chapel and walk the hall, down to a door all the way down at the end. A door that when opened with an echoing and familiar creak, reveals a darkened stairwell. It is here he discovered his excellent night vision, as the lights in the hall have gone out with their absence. It is not the dark that holds Heimrich here, staring down into the earth. It is the fear of what he may find. In time he moves again, echoing step after echoing step, the sounds losing their volume the deeper and more confined he becomes, until he reaches the final door, left ajar from when the last survivors had left. Heimrich stops there, he already sees what he needed to see.
Victor's body was gone.
He remains there, on the final steps, his mind etching the perfect image of Victor's last resting place, only to find no match in the darkness. He can still hear the medics say into his ear what they had to do to save his life. How they put parts of Victor into him. And now, his body was gone. Did he dissolve upon his death? Did his physical body disintegrate once Victor moved to him, or did it happen when Duncan did whatever he had done, before Heimrich woke up on the pyre? Or was he still alive.
A hand reaches back, tracing a line on his lower hip that exists only in his memory. His scars may have disappeared from his regeneration, but they haven't disappeared from his mind. He was cut open from behind, some time during the confusion, from his hip to his shoulder, through bone and organ. He had thought it was done by a Frae, as they all were carrying weapons, and are far stronger than ordinary men. But now... Now there is no doubt in Heimrich's mind that Victor had something to do with it. He must have planned on taking over his body, and had to mortally wound him and himself to do it. But why go so far to kill yourself... What did he possess that Victor did not? He and Duncan were very strong for Templars without the Fabled Blood, but Victor was just as strong, if not stronger with greater grace and skill. Why try to take over his body?
The questions burn in his mind, until Heimrich forces them down. In any case, they would do nothing for him now. What's done is done, and if Victor still lives, he would be no match for his power now. Heimrich turns and climbs back up the steps, having no desire to step foot into the room that ruined him. And with it, the slow growth of something on the wall, hidden from his line of sight.
____________________
Heimrich steps out of the showers with a sigh, tossing the towel he used away as he head to his bunk and footlocker. It was a lucky find that the water was still working with them gone. Though he supposes it has only been a few days. If it was a week it might have been a different story. Heimrich runs his right hand through his hair, sweeping half of it back as he opens his locker with his left. There isn't much in it besides clothes and a backup coin wallet, "But at this point that's all I'll need," Heimrich mutters out loud as he begins to get dressed. He puts on a set of his casual clothes before throwing the rest into a shoulderbag that he grabbed from a different area. He snaps on his wrist comm and goes to zip up the bag, before pausing and looking at the pistol in its holster sitting alone in the locker. His sword was gone, snapped in half from his battles with Duncan under the monster's influence. And he was far stronger than any bullet. Yet, as he retrieves the Falenday 610 pistol, pulls it from its holster and pulls back the slide to look at the blessed bullet resting in the chamber, Heimrich can't help but think how it might come in handy if he was attacked by a poltergeist again. He doubts his fists would do anything to it if he didn't have some form of magical weapon. Besides, this gun's been by his side for two years now. In the rush of the Frae attack he didn't grab it. Would be a shame if he had left it behind for good.
Heimrich puts it back in its holster and tosses it into his bag, along with the two loaded magazines he had in a waist carrier designed to fit onto a belt. He zips the bag closed and hefts it onto his shoulder, finding a comfortable spot for it. It was then he noticed the sounds approaching the outpost. He breathes in, detecting the familiar aroma of the templar-issue polish used on their armor despite the distance. Heimrich's eyes harden, his mind beginning to race with questions before he notices the direction they are coming from. They're coming from the west, from posts in the Crimson Range. They must be checking to see why Arcius has gone radio silent. Heimrich was not looking for an all out war with the Order, even though he'd very much like to get back at those who had done this to him. He was expecting to be able to get in and out before the Templars returned to Arcius, disappearing before they ever found out he was here. He still could- not a single person stationed in the Range should be able to even see him move at his newfound speed. He likely could be across the entire sector before anyone noticed his things were missing from his locker. Avoiding them would be the easiest thing he has done all day. But instead of that, Heimrich begins to walk to the main barrack doors, looking down at his wrist comm. Heimrich pushes the door open with his other hand before looking up into the sky. "I haven't called her in days. She's probably worried about me." Heimrich doesn't talk for anyone else's sakes, but he is noticed all the same.
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