Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-26288702-20180326040300

Alburn upon seeing Tirush has a difficult time hiding the blush on his face. He turns away to gain his composure, then turns back to Tirush.

“Alburn Walch is the name miss. C’mon. Lets go someplace else to talk...” Alburn shoulders his rifle and takes the lead of the group. He walks them up the hill where he was perched, up windfrom the smoldering village. Alburn then plops down on a stump facing the group.

“This has been an interesting day. Lesser Vampires, Anathemas and now Tirush.” He chuckles while scratching the back of his head. “You’re definitely not from around here. Where did you all come from?”

“That’s unimportant.” Armata speaks directly to Alburn. “What are you doing here?”

“Hunting those damned Vamps. Lesser Vamp attacks have doubled over the past couple weeks. They’ve gotten a lot boulder sense that Barghest dreg showed up. Some how that bastard can control them. I’ve heard of Higher Vampires controlling the Lessers, but never an ancient Hellbeast. Doesn’t matter, whatever’s going on it needs to stop. Even the council is hurting from these events. Humans are dying, settlements lost, territories swarmed.”

Alburn gives a long drawn out sigh of exasperation. He rubs his forehead as he has a headache, then looks back up at the group.

“Tirush said something about finding people dear to you?”

“Indeed. Two members of my coven were taken by Barghest, so we’re hunting for them.” Armata crosses his arms.

“Ah, that explains why Acheron is here. Council no doubt wants you kill Barghest and end this nightmare. Well count me in.” Alburn stands up and using his rifle for support.

“You’re coming with us?” Armata raises an eyebrow.

“Why not? A hoard of Lesser Vamps hit Donshire last week, killed a friend of mine. Barghest behind this, and aim to put a bullet through his skull. So, where we goin?” Alburn says with a determined tone.

“Totemul Suferentei.” Armata replies while turning away, his cloak swaying with him.

The group continues on across vast landscapes that are peppered with landmarks of a foreign nature. Giant pillars that have giant firebowls lit up as a series of beacons. After nearly a second day’s ride, the group finally enters the realm of Kagmar. It is beautiful snowy land, yet devoid of life.

Armata and Acheron land on the ground outside of a small cabin that is up against a mountain. They both signal the group down. Once everyone is together, Armata speaks.

“We covered a good amount of ground. Totemul is only an hour away from here, that said we should rest here for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me. My horse is tired.” Alburn dismounts his horse and leads it to the stables on the side of the cabin.

“This cabin, it’s abandoned.” Acheron chimes in. “No smoke from the chimney, no livestock. The previous owner must either be dead or left.”

The cabin is a quaint little homestead. The inside of the cabin is as quaint as the outside. It is a one room cabin, a small hearth sits at the left side, a giant table in the middle, and a lone bed on the right. Shelves on the walls hold empty jars, pottery and knick knacks, all covered in dust and cobwebs.

Armata instantly heads to the hearth and begins to make a fire. He rips down shelves, breaks them up and sets them in the hearth. He sweeps the cabin for anything that can be burned, while Alburn checks outside for firewood. With his power as a pyromancer, Armata flicks his finger and hearth lights up.