[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/236x/53/78/87/537887fac74ee493713b9e56a78663e4.jpg[/img][/center]
[center][h1][u][color=BC3823]Evander[/color] [color=CC5500]Fino[/color] [color=d4af37]Synesti[/color][/u][/h1][/center]

[hr][center][h2]V[color=8D918D]ictendes Auction: 
Battle between Nations[/color][/h2](Present)[/center][hr] 
[color=8D918D]Location:[/color] Auction House, [color=BC3823]Erasand’Enise[/color]

[color=FFFFFF][i]What will they think when I walk in?[/i][/color]

[color=8D918D]Was never a question Evander thought about. Why would he care what commoners, merchants, and lowly nobles thought? He laughed out loud as he walked into the auction house. He was decorated in a clean tailored vest with golden accents and red satin. His white shirt neatly tucked beneath. Evander’s golden hair was tied up in a regal ponytail exposing his youthful broad shoulders. He did not possess the frame of a muscle-bound soldier, but he had a tasteful and elegant lean muscular frame that signaled he could dance and tussle with the best of them. His eyes scored a seat a few rows back from his teammate Jocasta. 

Evander sat down, kicked back, and observed the crowd of students bumbling around to find seats. The Victendes auction was about to begin, and Evander was ready to play. The first few items merely ramp up the spectators and give those with less a chance to contribute their small sums to the auction house. It was not Evander’s first auction and most likely will not be his last. He knew the more prized possessions would reveal themselves later in the evening. Then, a surprise. The auctioneer called out an aphrodisiac. Evander had a recollection piercing his prefrontal cortex. He was transported back to Djamant at one of their famous festivals, an island of wild spirits and hearty hands. He remembered the first time he had tried an aphrodisiac at one of their festivals, a memory he did not have to work hard at holding. 

Evander raised his hand. The bidding commenced. Throughout the bidding, he made flirtatious remarks to Isabella, and Jocasta, who responded with flush cheeks to Evander’s wit and charm. Both times referencing Djamant, Jocasta having been to one of their festivals could relate to Evander’s interest in taking Aphro at one. Isabella could not relate, but she seemed to imagine it with Evander in mind after his comment. Again, he raised his hand until finally, the aphrodisiac was his…now to convince Jocasta to teleport and join him for a Djamant festival. 

The following items were lackluster and unmemorable, as the people who bid for them. Except for the final item, a music box. Evander recognized it. The auctioneer confirmed it—an artifact of Avince… a device that sang to more than just people. Without hesitation, maybe too obvious, Evander raised his hand to bid. The bidding war commenced between himself and the unusual duo Ingrid and Desmond. An odd pairing of two, but when Evander plays, everyone notices and must join together if they want to have a chance at winning. The bidding would continue for quite some time to where the hearts and minds of those who could not comprehend the Magus amounts began to shake in their seats at the absurdity, including Desmond and Ingrid. If it were not for their mysterious patrons, they would have left the weight of this bid on the table turns ago. 

Eventually, the interested parties retreated to a private auction where dirty hands and fowl play occurred. Mysterious saboteurs, law enforcement of the highest order, and an auctioneer losing control all acted in a confined space. In the end, Ingrid, Desmond, and their rallying cry for others to help them pay for the music box would receive the ancient Avincian artifact. A battle well won in a war they will lose. Upon leaving the auction house with his patron, they walked together to Zeno Bucks for a cup of coffee. The cloaked man freed his face from beneath the hood. The two acted as if they knew each other intimately. The cloaked man shared a cup of coffee and discussed topics of politics and Ersand’Enise interests. Evander would ask a favor before the two departed their separate ways. 

Evander’s confidence continued to ignite regardless of the auction outcome. His team had won the Melon Derby, and his sights were now on The Dragon.[/color]

[hr][center][h2]H[color=8D918D]igh Stakes: 
Hunting Monsters That Go Bump In The Night[/color][/h2](Present)[/center][hr] 
[color=8D918D]Location:[/color] Crafters Quarters, [color=BC3823]Erasand’Enise[/color]

[b]4:30 HE[/b]

[color=8D918D]Evander usually found solace on evening walks, his mind easing into each step. Not tonight. Solace and ease are distant as the sun. For tonight, Evander followed a clue. Several moons ago, he was introduced to the rumor of a Sanguinaire. Before such rumors, he had only heard about these shadow-lurking creatures in stories told to him by his tutor in the same tone, always boiling down to two words, devilish fiends. The dimly lit streets of Ersand’Enise had feelings of enchantment and gloom. The night felt extraordinarily darker than ever before. 

Nonetheless, Evander hid any doubt or fear, [color=FFFFFF][i]if the monster is here, it can bleed too.[/i][/color] He reaffirmed himself. On time, Evander reached the distillery marked [i]Crafters’ Quarters[/i], above the door. The rumor pointed to this meeting spot at 4:30 HE. Evander slowly pressed the palm of his hand on the door as his cloak draped to one side, flowing over his arm. Opening the entrance, he stepped inside. The creaking of the floorboards sounded as they gave to his weight beneath his feet. He approached an eclectic group at a table. As Evander stepped to make an introduction, one of them groaned in Virangish, which Evander could make out as, [color=FF4500]”What’s taking them so long?”[/color]

Before any members could become acquainted, at least since Evander’s arrival. Two figures entered the Crafters’ Quarters. These figures were noticeably carrying equipment for more than an evening's walk. Their approach was subtle, delicate, and precise. A demeanor befitting of Sanguinare hunters, perhaps? 

Immediately the aura surrounding their mystery broke as the jolly Kerremand spoke,[color=36AE36]”Pardon me, mein Freunde!”[/color] Evander felt…disappointed. Quickly his disappointment turned to a sense of seriousness as the second did better justice in introducing the reason they were all gathered, [color=686A8F]“What you have heard is true: A Sanguinaire is among us. To ensure the safety of every man, woman, and child in the Twin Continents, the Burning Order has, is, and will investigate all information on these creatures and cull them.”[/color]

Evander felt renewed in the fact he was not wasting his time,[color=FFFFFF][i]Good, the rumors are true.[/i][/color] What better way to demonstrate his skill as a member of the Synesti household than to slay a Sanguinaire. He took this mission to prove himself worthy of his family name. The man who called himself Lissanon asked if there were any questions; Evander had a few. He stepped forward, [color=d4af37]”What do you know about this sanguinare we are after?”[/color] Lissanon nods, [color=686A8F]”We know they have been here around the beginning of the trials. Potentiallly even before.”[/color] Evander thought [color=FFFFFF][i]since the beginning of the trial?[/i][/color] He turned his feet toward Lissanon in interest, who began to scratch his chin in muse, [color=686A8F]”We have had reports of odd encounters and fainting before the event. But your colleague,”[/color], pointing to Abdel, [color=686A8F]”has had a confirmed encounter with one. We estimate this sanguinaire to be a relatively inexperienced but quite dangerous specimen.”[/color]

[color=d4af37]”Do you suspect there’s more than one?”[/color] Evander inquired further. The tall man shrugged, [color=686A8F]”We have evidence of at least one. But with the trials, it is reasonable to assume there could be more. Or that the single one was from foreigners.”[/color] As always, to the point, Lissanon paces closer to Evander. Viktor appears more pre-occupied with cleaning his gun. Evander stood confidently as Lissanon closed distance, [color=d4af37]”Have you two hunted these sainguinaire before?”[/color] He was curious to see if the two in front of him had any experience or if they were errand boys sent by the Order behind this mission. The two confirmed, [color=FFFFFF][i]Fourteen[/i][/color], that was the number of sanguinaire lives collected between them, [color=d4af37]”do they usually travel alone or with others?”[/color] Lissanon replied, [color=686A8F]”Alone.”[/color] 

Evander followed up, [color=d4af37]”How have you killed them in the past?”[/color] Lissanon answered, [color=686A8F]”The same way you kill a person,”[/color] only to be cut off by Viktor, [color=36AE36]”A bullet to the head or heart does the trick.”[/color] Evander looked at Viktor who seemed to know exactly what was being asked, [color=d4af37]"And if you don't?"[/color] Viktor elaborated, [color=36AE36]”Ein Blutsauger is very resilient. Heals fast, is fast, kills fast. Quick killing blows work best.”[/color] he tilts his head and chuckles at a stray thought, [color=36AE36]”Fire works too. Works very well.”[/color] Abdel raises his chin and grins, crossing his arms. 

Evander was beginning to sense this was going to be a dangerous hunt. If it was traveling alone, [color=FFFFFF][i]why in Ersand’Enise? A place where plenty of people were strong enough to kill it. Why not somewhere less capable of fighting back?[/i][/color] Evander asked, [color=d4af37]“Why do you two believe this lonely hunter has come to Ersand’Enise of all places?”[/color] Lissanon furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, looking confused, [color=686A8F]”Is it not obvious?”[/color] Viktor chuckles, [color=36AE36]”They don't know. Most don't, Lissanon.”[/color] Lissanon purses his lips, [color=686A8F]”Maybe it's for the best. But, know that such events are bound to attract stray or ambitious Sanguinaires.”[/color] Evander could feel they evaded the question with a vague answer. Abdel crosses his arms, a knowing scowl of disgust upon his face. [color=FF4500]”It’s the mana types,”[/color] he decides. [color=FF4500]”Lots of goodies for them here. They wanna steal your rare blood. One had a go at me,”[/color] he sneered. [color=FF4500]”Dealt with easily enough, but they bolted before I could finish the job.”[/color]

The questions and answers continued briefly. Evander summed up everything in his head. 

[color=FFFFFF][i]Sanguinaire heals fast, runs fast, kills fast, but scares easily. Piercing the head or heart and exploding it with fireworks was a sure way to kill one before it could heal. They hunt rare mana types alone, and will flee if they feel overwhelmed. The strategy is to discreetly scout the city, gather intel, and return to the Crafters Quarters to form a plan.[/i][/color]

Evander stepped back, [color=d4af37]“Thank you, Lissanon, Viktor, and Abdel, for answering my questions.”[/color] He was ready to prove himself against the sanguinaire stories he grew up listening to as a kid.[/color]



[hider=A Hearth of Darkness: A Story of Countess Aelis Clairmont]

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MNnGdMUXlBc[/youtube][/center]
[img]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/679/596/large/nele-diel-creepy-mansion.jpg?1464465773[/img]

[i][quote]My dear child, I will tell you a story if you are brave enough to listen. It is a story where the wolves howl at the mother of the night. Owls nestled in cypress-tress, flapping their wings and striking against the street lanterns in Chamonix. The hour the werewolf breathes as rabid little creatures flee from beasts prowling behind the scenes. Wild foxes yelp in the far darkness, and a thousand sinister noises detach themselves from the silence. It ‘twas a night no man, woman, and child should be wandering, but as all stories go, it starts with one forgetting to take inventory of all the warnings. Stepping into the bone-chilling cold, a young man in his mid-thirties wrapped up in linen rushed out his door to see his beloved. The biting cold air forced his hairs to stand at attention as they tried fighting off each frigid attack by pumping blood to his surface. One could have warned him he’d never make it, but would he have listened? Who could change the mind of one man’s pride to give up his desire to reach his lover’s side? Who could have persuaded him to try under more advantageous conditions? 

Each step grew colder, and the warmth of his coat began to feel distant. As it was foretold, his path was too cold, and the freezing of his toes halted him. In the dark of night, when all of the creatures were silent, with only the sound of his crunching bones beneath his feet. He paced up the crest of a hill in the darkest part of the woods, where he stood at the top to take a moment and gather his senses. What could he do if he could not continue? 

A thunder cracked loud across the sky, rattling his joints and mind. There it stood, another warning he would deny. The thunder roared as lightning followed, revealing a manor West in a clearing far from even the moon’s light. Who could have lived here? There was no time to decide. Rain began to fall, and another thunderous shatter rolled. Lightning sparked effervescent moments of visibility to keep the man from losing his path to the manor’s doorstep. The man losing his wits carried wet, cold bones to the front door of the estate. Knocking incessantly, his fears creeping up behind him. He would not last much longer in the cold and certainly not under the rain. Maybe no one was home?  

His shivering hands wrapped around the door’s handle, a slight push, and the manor was no longer closed to visitors. The young man from Chamonix stepped inside to peek, [color=00FF00]“Is anyone home?”[/color] He yelled, [color=00FF00]“My name is Sebastian, I am a weary traveler from Chamonix. May I come inside to warm my feet? I promise to be of no pain, and I will soon leave.”[/color] He coiled down to release his feet from their bindings as he heard nothing, not even a whisper. His hands struggle to unwrap his shoes, and then a faint whisper, [color=815989]“Hello, fine man, you say is Sebastian, a traveler from Chamonix; it has been quite some time since I’ve had a guest visit me.”[/color] Before Sebastian could look up, his hands were touched by a gentle soft finger which induced a sense of peace in his heart. The cold faded from his bones, replaced by a subtle warmth and gradual fever. He looked up to see who possessed the hands of such a glowing touch. A surprise besieged him, [color=FFFFFF][i]what beauty[/i][/color], he thought. Oddly similar to his beloved, this fair lady slipped between Sebastian’s cautious instincts. She looked real while feeling ephemeral. A real ghost he might conclude, then his mind concluded she was safe as she gently graced her hand over his capturing his gaze.  

[color=815989]“Follow me, weary traveler.”[/color] She pulled ever so slightly at his hand. Sebastian resisted, [color=00FF00]“I am sorry I need to keep going.”[/color] He did not know why, but he felt a part of him wanted to run. How long was he here? Did he just arrive, or has he stayed for days, why could he not remember? His sense of time in her presence disappeared as he followed her deeper into the corridors of her estate. Then the urge to run surged again. As he attempted to pull his wrist free from her grasp, she calmly slipped her hand up from his wrist to his forearm. 

Pursing her lips close together with her mouth inches from his ear, she whispered,[color=815989]“There is a fire in your heart, my dear, that I am sure of, she will still be there when morning comes to warm the fields and the road you dream of, but your heart’s flame will not be enough to keep you warm on a night like this, come, let me aid you in your travel and be your source of comfort, tonight we will share company, and tomorrow you will be on your way to a better place.”[/color] The crack of thunder shook Sebastian as the flash of lightning pierced through the windows, reminding him tonight he was grateful for having a roof over his head, or surely he might have curled up under a tree, and tomorrow he’d be dead. 

Giving up his spirit to continue and instinct to run, he followed her further into the manor’s story: high walls and tall ceilings, enormous portrait paintings adorning each space with history. Sebastian almost forgot to ask, [color=00FF00]“Who are you, and what is this place?”[/color] His mind gradually became drowsy following her wisping gait swaying hypnotically. She was so light and delicate to be alone, yet she carried herself confidently like a Queen in a forgotten realm deep within the forest. The two reached a large room where a fireplace was burning. Sebastian’s cheeks turned red as his blood raised to the surface. She directed his movement with the twist of her wrist around a comfortable chair where Sebastian would rest. Standing above him, smiling. He thought to himself, [i]how eerie her lips curled, yet how beautiful her hair furled, there was something else about her[/i]. Before he could hear the answer to his question, Sebastian faded between his truth and fiction. 

Sebastain’s eyes felt heavy in every direction, and just in time, she answered,[color=815989]“My name is Aelis Clairmont. I have been many things; this place is my home, built before Chamonix.”[/color] Her smile loosened to a distant memory she once lived, [color=815989]“My family built this place before I was taken, and many years ago, I returned in hopes of finding peace in a life cursed by a kiss from a beast disguised as a man who swept me off my feet.”[/color] Sebastian could understand a heart hurt by a lover’s lie. Her head lowered, and she asked,[color=815989]“Have you ever loved?”[/color] She lifted her hand off his, and to Sebastian’s surprise, his mind became less hazy enough to answer truthfully, [color=00FF00]“I love a rose beyond these woods. Her name is Joëlle. Her eyes brighten my soul, her touch ignites my passions, and her memory inspires my spirit like a gift from Ipte, and that is who I walk to on a night like this.”[/color] He felt comfortable in Clairmont’s presence. He openly shared his conviction for Joëlle and noticed a distant gaze in Clairmont’s eyes. The snap of light from lightning revealed pressure on Clairmont’s face. Twists and contortions of her nostril and cheeks showed signs of frustration…a feeling of resisting her own romance’s defeat.  

[color=815989]“How do you know she does not lie to you?”[/color] Clairmont asked. He quickly replied, [color=00FF00]“Why would she? I must believe in her as I love her.”[/color] Clairmont bent forward, slowly touching Sebastian’s hand,[color=815989]“Poor thing, I believed in the same thing."[/color] Her eyes widened as if to empathize. [color=815989]“You are good… why must all good things come to an end.”[/color] She was not asking a question but rather an assertion.  She floated to the other chair, still clasping his hand. He could feel his energy dissipate, his mind slipping. He wanted to pull his hand away, but instead, he slouched further into the comfortable chair under the warm roof of the Clairmont estate. His eyes were transfixed on hers since she moved from his side to the seat next to him. Her smile returned,[color=815989]“You make this difficult, yet more enjoyable.”[/color] He did not understand what she meant, [color=00FF00]“meaning?”[/color] Her smile not fading,[color=815989]“To drink from a man like you burning with passion is a treat I’ve forgotten…thank you.”[/color] Her tongue seductively slid across her bottom lip. Sebastian’s sense of comfort churned into concern, [color=00FF00]“drink?”[/color] Sebastian’s eyes closed, heavy. He could hear Clairmont chuckle, [color=815989]“Oh dear, you’ve wandered into the den of an elder, a refuge of false hope for the living, a web of deception, except for the truth about our love. Mine cursed me, and yours led you to my room.”[/color] Sebastian forced both eyes to open, and they were no longer in the den. Was this whole thing an illusion? When did he get up from the chair he was in? Where was the fireplace he sat in front of? Where were his senses?

He was laid out on a bed: red blankets, soft sheets, the woman on top of him with both hands forcing his overhead. Sebastian tried screaming and fighting in a panic, but the more he wanted to fight, the more he felt something instead. Did fear paralyze him? Or maybe something she did? Her fingernails pierced the veins in his wrists; he felt a subtle ecstasy as she felt his excitement beneath. In his last moments, Sebastian wasn’t fighting. He was betraying Joëlle instead. The countess’ fangs elongated, and she lowered her head. She softly punctured the jugular to feed off the fly caught in her web. Her hands moved from his wrists to his neck. She felt the pulse of what was left. Her teeth were deep inside as Sebastian experienced memories of Joëlle flashing before his eyes. What came next was a climax before a wave of soothing peace. Aelis, satisfied, lifted her head from his neck and gazed into his eyes. There was only enough life for Sebastian to know he’d soon die. 

Aelis rolled off her prey’s body. She grabbed a napkin off a dark walnut nightstand, wiping her lips delicately, and whispered to the dead,[color=815989]“you are good…”[/color] she paused, placing the napkin down, [color=815989]”but as I said, all good things must come to an end.”[/color] She turned her back to Sebastian’s soon-to-be corpse,[color=815989]“may your death be greater than my curse as a servant who rallies the undead,”[/color] thunder shook the home once more as lightning filled the room, revealing the eyes of several fiends waiting for their countess to exit the room. 

The doors closed behind her, revealing a darker truth. Sebastian in fact was not laying in a bedroom. Her illusion leaving with her, dissolved the walls of where he lay. He felt the cold stone slab touching his back while his hands were chained. The lightning did not flash through a window but a barred hole in the roof. He was in a feeding chamber in one of the dungeon rooms below the estate. The clattering of nails echoed down the halls, and shrills of creatures filled Sebastian's ears as he oscillated between dazed and dreaming. There was no mistaking...the fiends that lived below Clairmont came racing. 

There you go, my child, a warning to be heard. The story of Countess Clairmont, the Elder Sanguinare who resides in a manor deep in the woods beyond Chamonix. My final words to you can be summed as these, do not travel in the dark, and do not travel alone. Keep to the light, do not stumble into unknown homes. May you listen to your instincts. Protect your heart from the cold. Do not find comfort in strangers, and keep your eyes open. One more thing, if you ever do encounter a Sanguinaire, be weary of its snares. Not all of them are kind, like the countess of Clairmont's estate.[/quote][/i][/hider]



[hr][center][h2]H[color=8D918D]igh Stakes: 
Hunting Monsters That Go Bump In The Night[/color][/h2](Present)[/center][hr] 
[color=8D918D]Location:[/color] Outside Proving Grounds, [color=BC3823]Erasand’Enise[/color]

[b]5:30 HE[/b]

[color=8D918D]Evander followed the others out of the Crafter’s Quarters. Viktor led the hunt, and Abdel identified a victim. The group followed the trail of victims to a blood path leading into the Proving Grounds. Without discretion, Abdel took to the skies. The rest needed to decide. Would they go through the open gate where a tunnel full of flickering torches led to the Colosseum? Or would they look for another way in? The sheer obviousness of peril lurked down the corridors of following the trail. Evander could not help but recollect a story about Countess Aelis Clairmont, who lived in a manor beyond Chamonix.

[color=FFFFFF][i]…stupid Perrench, who walks into a stranger's home in the middle of the woods?[/i][/color] Evander thought as he remembered the story about a sanguinaire who preyed on the living. She would lure her victims in with a chemical attraction. She’d disarm them by giving them no doubts in their decision to follow her trail. All the while, her victim would descend into confusion. Until finally, she decided to strike from the most advantageous position. 

If the story was not true, it was meant to convey a point. Do not follow a sanguinare’s path for it will lead to a death trap. Evander heeded Khaliun’s warning, [i]if they followed, they would be walking into the center of a spider web[/i]. 

Evander told the group, [color=d4af37]“we need to find another way in.”[/color] He looked to the walls, [color=d4af37]“we should climb to gain the high ground and see if we can’t spot where the Sanguinaire is.”[/color][/color]

[hider=summary]
[list]
[*] Auction house activity.
[*] Evander loses the box to Ingrid and Desmond.
[*] Evander talks to a cloaked man after the auction.
[*] Evander meets his team at Crafters Quarters for High Stakes mission.
[*] He asks members of Burning Order about their knowledge on Sanguinaire.
[*] Evander follows the team into the night to track down the Sanguinaire.
[*] Viktor leads the hunt, Abdel chases after the trail of a Sanguinaire into the Proving Grounds.
[*] Khaliun warns the team from bullrushing.
[*] Evander recalls a story and heeds Khaliun's warning.
[*] Evander suggests they climb the wall of the Colosseum to gain height and sight advantage.
[/list]
[/hider]