To say Arcturus was lost would be an immense understatement.
At first he had merely been alarmed. Alarmed and impressed as what had before been a dying man suddenly sprang into action, rolling into the corner with a vigor even the most fit of persons would envy. Even after what he had seen during the previous fight, Arcturus had never expected that the blood would have such a swift, dramatic effect. The scarlet drenched man's many mysterious wounds were now nowhere to be seen, closed and healed as if they had never been inflicted. It was a baffling wonder to behold.
That would not be the last thing to baffle the young man, however. When the newest face, apparently a 'huntsman' named Draco, stepped into the doorway Arcturus had sprung to his feet and scrambled for his saber. As far as he figured it was most likely that a sudden new pitchfork wielding intruder would be associated with the party that had attacked them. Luckily, and somewhat confusingly, he was wrong. As the men around him continued to exchange words, the lone foreigner in the room became increasingly puzzled.
He got the impression that the very streets of Yharnam were unsafe, which made no sense to him, necessitating that armed men escort civilians to safety. Was the city under attack? What in heaven's name was a church giant? Why would the girl's identity as a 'saint' paint a target on their backs? All of this while that word, 'hunter', was thrown around with little explanation.
According to this man of the 'White Church', Victor, he was now one of those hunters. No explanation beyond that, but...
Something about the title felt right.
Although that might simply have been because he now knew what the odd smell was.
Whatever was going on it seemed to have to do with some ominous sounding 'Night of The Hunt.' An event that put people in danger and sounded like it necessitated the intervention of these 'hunters.' Arcturus had no idea what to make of all this information. However he wasn't about to reveal just how totally in the dark he was, and remained silent through it all. He could get the information he wanted later. In the meantime there were more important matters to focus on. Getting those civilians to safety, protecting that saint, getting himself some equipment beyond his sword, and most importantly staying alive.
One more thing, as well. Shifting the base of his weapon's blade to his left hand, so he could carry it more easily without brandishing the thing, he steadily approached the man called Draco. While he didn't fully trust this newest arrival, the pitchfork wielding man seemed to have good intentions. Although perhaps 'pitchfork' was a disservice to the tool held in the huntsman's hands. It seemed to be designed for more than just farm work and held his curious stare for at least a good couple seconds.
Strangely Draco had seemed quite apprehensive when he first approached them. Was it because they were 'hunters?' Otherwise he seemed solid. Perhaps a bit lacking in confidence, but definitely experienced. By that garish scar on his face it seemed the man was certainly no stranger to combat. Surely the mark of a nasty injury sustained from an enemy he had withstood.
"Those... 'madmen' you came across, did they say anything of note?" Arcturus asked quietly, the piercing blue of his eyes peering inquisitively into Draco's. While his words were spoken in a clear, even refined manner, they still bore his distinct foreign accent. Immediately giving away that he was not from Yharnam. "Who they were? What they were-"
Suddenly the most unusual of noises sounded out from behind him, causing Arcturus to trail off as his attention was pulled away. He turned to see the lamp now projecting an ephemeral blue glow, with Tor-... The other man who had awoken with them standing before it. At first he was set on edge by this new development. However as he regarded the lamp, observed the pale blue light within, he was gradually set at ease. It was a comforting color. Like a cozy fire, only blue and not nearly as warm.
Was this what the message had meant? 'The lantern's pale gleam?' Remembering the words that Marcus had read aloud, Arcturus averted his gaze from the lantern, instead curiously watching the man next to it. Watching to see if anything else happened. It made him feel somewhat silly. Just what exactly was he expecting?
Vampiretwilight
Smitten
Olive Fontaine