New Blood

[Hazarufus]

The year is 2026 and the world is tired, it's old, and most importantly it has been ground down by the endless march of time and the cruelty of man. The legends of long ago have faded into the background as mankind finds comfort in the digital, but none of that is really important to you.

Not yet at least, for you are currently a nobody. Perhaps even less then that.

You are...

[] A pale, forgotten corpse at the bottom of a cave.

[] A bloated, waterlogged body thrown into the middle of a lake.

[] A desiccated, rotten carcass buried in an old cemetery.

If a person were to look at you right now they would be disgusted, bile would fill their throat and their eyes would avert to something more pleasing. You shouldn't blame them, after all you only have yourself to blame for your current state after all, or maybe someone else was to blame?

It was...

[] Betrayal! Someone close to you did this and you will have vengeance!

[] All your fault, your choices and actions led you here. You won't let it happen again.

Truly? How unfortunate, but such is life.

What matters now is what comes next, and be assured there is a next. There will always be a next, especially for you. I'm sure you can already feel it bubbling up inside of you, that Hunger, that utter Rabid Beast living inside you that craves nothing but destruction.

[] It snarls in quiet contemplation...

[] It growls with rhythms of hunger...

[] It screams into your ears, you can only barely push it away...

Yes... Don't worry, you'll come to master it in time.

Or not.

For now there is one last thing I need from you Childe.

Can you give me your name?

[] Write In.

 

[Greenmatsui]

[X] A desiccated, rotten carcass buried in an old cemetery
[X] All your fault, your choices and actions led you here. You won't let it happen again.

[X] It growls with rhythms of hunger...

[X] Viktor Topaz

 

[LonelyWolf]

[X] A bloated, waterlogged body thrown into the middle of a lake.
[X] All your fault, your choices and actions led you here. You won't let it happen again.
[X] It growls with rhythms of hunger...

[X] Clara de Sevilla Valez

 

[Hazarufus]

AN: Vote split, taking some artistic liberties and combining the votes. Let me know what you think.

---

You gasp, life coming back to you in a sudden jarring gasp that has you instinctually flailing about in panic and fear. Or you would be flailing if you had the room for it, instead your arms smack uselessly against old rotted wood that has seen far better days. The darkness that coils around you tells you much, but your foggy memories can't seem to make sense out of exactly what is happening. Your mind falls to panic quickly, and without thinking you reach up and push!

Spoiler: Strength Check

3d6+2 = 5, 1, 2 = 8+2(Hungry Modifier) = 10
DC = 5 [Success]

AN: There are three stats in this Quest; Strength, Intelligence, and Willpower. I feel they should be pretty self explanatory but if you have questions then ask. What's truly important to know is about your Hunger meter, as you become more and more hungry your Vampire will gain scaling Strength Check Bonuses depending on how hungry they become. In contrast, should you satiate yourself you will have scaling Intelligence and eventually Willpower Check Bonuses.

Various earnable Perks and Traits can further influence these bonuses, but you can learn more about that later when it's relevant.

The rotten wood above you cracks easily, almost too easily you realize as the wood around your initial push cracks further and a shower of damp soft loam falls directly on your face. The dirt doesn't stop falling and you finally internalize the frightening truth of your situation.

You are currently in a coffin buried underneath the earth. You're trapped.

Panic rips through you, and your hands reach up the shattered wooden ceiling and begin to tear whole chunks away. Dirt cascades down as you make progress but you are faster and the falling dirt does nothing to stop you from clawing your way through mounds of the soft loam. You dig, and dig, and dig, and you don't stop digging until your hand plunges upward and feels the cold brisk night air dusting your skin.

Your hand grasps the ground but it is an effort to pull yourself upward with how loose the ground is, the same softness that made it so easy to dig through now makes it difficult to pull yourself up and through the dirt and into the open air. Eventually though you make it, pushing yourself up and out even as the dark dirt of your grave stubbornly clings to every part of your weary body.

Your eyes shakily turn to take in your surroundings, the panic melting away in favor of… confusion. Finally the foggy memories of your past start to rise from the mire of your mind.

Spoiler: Willpower Check

3d6 = 4, 3, 4 = 11+0(Hungry Modifier)
DC = 10[Success]

Only just barely can you wrestle past the immense fog keeping your memories from you, and with that blockage out of the way comes a flood of memories that makes you flinch in pain and fear.

You remember now, you remember the accusations levied against you, the shouting and pain as they tossed you into the waters. The fear and desperation as you struggled to stay afloat, how you begged your parents to save you and how you saw them on the edge of the waters doing their best not to look at you. Worst of all was how you remembered that it all happened because you were just too damn curious! It was you who had decided to trust the wandering nomad who had stopped in your village, it was you who had convinced them to teach you their ways, and it was you who naively thought such knowledge would help more than it would hurt.

You should have known better, your parents had taught you better hadn't they? To be fair it had all worked great at first, it wasn't until the nomad had long since left the village that debt incurred had come around to be paid. All the sickness and death, with those who remained knowing exactly whose fault it had been.

You had been a fool, and your actions had clearly condemned you in the eyes of your fellows and God.

The question now was, how were you alive? And Where in the Heavens above were you?

Spoiler: Intelligence Check

3d6 = 5, 6, 6 = 17+0(Hungry Modifier)
DC = 10[Success]

AN: Damn, almost crit on this one!

It only took a minute to come to the startling realization that you had never moved from the last spot you had been in your memories. This was the very lake that you had drowned in, but instead of flailing in panic at yet another watery demise you were instead standing confused on the basin of a lake without any water in it. Further investigation revealed even stranger things afoot, for the lake that had once been your demise had not just been removed but it had also been turned into a graveyard. Numerous stone epitaphs dotted your surroundings, just barely visible through the thick, dense fog that enveloped your surroundings.

You turned, and then startled upon realizing that there had been one for you as well. Then your confusion simply increased as you realized the name carved on the epitaph.

Viktor Topaz

Who the hell was Viktor Topaz? Your name has always been Clara.

More importantly now that your mind was starting to clear and it was starting to actually process your situation you realized that you probably should be more confused about how you became buried in the first place. More and more questions were piling up by the second and something told you that you weren't going to be getting any concrete answers anytime soon, perhaps more important than answering your insipid curiosity was finding shelter.

A breeze kicked up suddenly, sending a deep shiver across your body that also reminded you that currently you were wearing nothing but old thin and torn rags. You needed to make a decision that wasn't just standing around gawking at your surroundings and circumstances, and you eventually needed to address the small but Growing Pit in your stomach. It twisted gently inside you as if making sure you knew it was there before all else…

[] Search the old graveyard, perhaps there's something of use here.

[] Through the thickness of the fog you swear you can see some kind of light... follow it.

[] Rush off into the woods, you don't know where to go but you know you cannot remain here.

[] Write In.

---

AN: We are still sort of in the setup phase, but once you get yourself situated there will be a lot more freedom and options in what you can do.

 

[Greenmatsui]

[X] Through the thickness of the fog you swear you can see some kind of light... follow it.

Waking up in a grave, classic.

 

[LonelyWolf]

[X] Through the thickness of the fog you swear you can see some kind of light... follow it.

Huh, seems like we have a mystery here. Drowned in a lake and woke up in another man's grave - did somebody fish us out? Or is something more esoteric at play?

 

[Hazarufus]

AN: This took so long because I got a little obsessed with V-Rising the game. At the very least it gave me time also think about some potentially fun plot threads and whatnot.

---

For a long moment your mind pondered needlessly on things you couldn't influence, questions about why you woke up in the wrong grave, why you woke up in a grave at all. The fact that you had somehow died and came back to life, the fact that a significant amount of time may have passed since you… passed.

All of it thundered across your mind for a few moments, before suddenly your attention caught on something that cut through the thick fog of the old graveyard. There, in the distance, seemed to be some kind of faint light. You try to squint your eyes in the vain hope it would give you any more vision to work with but alas, the fog remains stubborn in hindering your vision.

Eventually, after fighting away the waves of fear and confusion, you find your feet moving. One step in front of the other, and lacking any other idea on what to do they take you in the direction of the faint light. The process is weirdly quick, a strange frigid strength guiding your movements and preventing the soft chill in the air from sapping you of any of your strength. In some odd way, the cold night air almost feels more comfortable then you remember a warm summer day being. You shake the thoughts from your mind and instead focus on moving forwards, step by step until you reach the steep earthen slope that defines the graveyards boundaries and reach a hand out to climb up it. You freeze suddenly, staring with widened eyes at your hand, pale and far too thin for the strength you feel within them. Not to mention the most obvious startling feature being your new pointed nails that look sharp enough to probably cause a fairly serious minor injury if you took a swipe at someone.

You close your eyes and push the the sight from your head, taking a deep breath and deciding that such a thing only bears thought later. Instead you reach out and dig your hand into the soft soil and begin to push yourself up the wall inch by inch. Further and further you climb until you crest the point where the slope evens out again into flat plain soil that simultaneously feels harder and yet just as easy to dig your hands into. When your eyes rise the fog is finally gone and you can see the light for what it is, a small home constructed of rough wooden logs and emitting a weirdly bright light from windows that were far too large and far too smooth. A thread of worry and fear began to worm its way inside of you, you knew all too well about what happened when you trusted the strange and odd.

Yet what other choice did you have at this moment, and more to it, was not your whole situation enveloped in the strange and odd to an absurd degree?

You began to walk forward, and with a weary, scratchy voice call out to inhabitants.

"He-" The attempt leaves you coughing your lungs out, but you muscle your way past your scratchy throat to call out.

"Hello? I- I need- Please…"

Your words stumble over themselves but it appears that your plea was in fact heard. Movement occurs within the cabin, shadows dance across the strange windows and the sound of a voice rumbles out of the cabin. Muffled by the wooden walls you can't make out whatever they are saying, and yet something about the tone fills you with a strange sense of dread.

You inch closer to the cabin, your instincts urging caution even as your heart yearns for someone to make sense of all that is happening. Finally the door to the cabin swings open and-

"Fucking grave robbers, ain't no goddamn respect for the dead! You've got two goddamn seconds to get the fuck out of here!"

You freeze, eyes darting not to the old man but the strange looking musket in his hand. Strange or not though, you know exactly what it's capable of and your instincts are in agreement about not getting shot.

[] Dash to the side, into the forest to avoid getting shot!
{Strength Check}

[] Plea innocence, you need help and he is probably the only one around.
{Intelligence Check}

[] Stand and show no fear, the quickest way to get shot is to panic. You've known stronger men who would refuse to shoot another.
{Willpower Check}

[] Write In
{An appropriate check based on what you do.}