ChakraStrings
Mums Gardener
The soft patter of hoof upon cobblestone was all that was heard in the dreary night air. Hadrianus Varinius had travelled long and far, moving upon the whims of rumour and small talk to this very location, This very location.... He had Blessed himself for only the power of the Almighty, In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, could protect him in these foul lands of evil. His trusted blade hung from his side, and his spirited cross bow slung across his back, his Holy bolts crossed across his shirt forming an 'x'. His long billowing black cloak flowing off into the darkness, his face masked underneath his brimmed hat. Crosses, Seals of Purity, and various other insignias hung from his neck, wrists, and all other manner of places. His horse, black as night, named Feail barely making any form of sound as it trotted along at a brisk pace.
The castle loomed ahead, Hadriananus crossing himself as he stared at it's presence. "Tonight, let my sword taste the flesh of the Heretic." As he neared the castle, he hopped from his horse, patting it and whispering orders into its ear, grabbing from his pack a very tight grappling hook, he was able to scale the outlying castle wall. Years of success at his trade taught him every element of stealth, and tonight he'd need them more than ever. The battlements were deserted, seemingly so as only the foul Dead lurked in such an area as this, a vial of Holy Water gleamed from the shining of the full moon.
He traversed the battlement, coming to a point where it lowered and hopped down, sneaking through the lower ramparts. A small band of gypsies were encamped outside, as was custom with many of these Vampirical Lords, bands of crazed followers often times placed themselves at the mercy, getting food and wealth at the cost of sacrifice and other such diabolical torments. He did not pity them, heretics deserved no such thing.
One of them, a young male, stood watch just outside the ring of fires, he was whistling a low tune under his breath, an old bolt-action rifle slung in his hands. Like the Black Plague itself Hadrianus snuck upon him, grasping the foul heretic with both arms, one around the throat the other around his mouth to prevent him screaming out. He dragged the boy into the shadows, keeping one finger on the boys lips as he spoke the next sentence,
"Do not scream out, you must answer these questions or you will never see your loved ones for a long time, do you understand?" The boy nodded and he removed his finger,
"Now, this castle, is there a way in?" The boy seemed uncertain and began thinking, then suddenly he nodded vigorously, pointing towards one of the walls.
"Speak boy, but speak quietly."
"There is a way," The boy replied in a thick accent, "But it is dangerous, for I have only seen the Master ever do it." He pointed again at one of the bastions, a lone window was shown.
Curiously, Hadrianus asked, "He has climbed this wall, at such a steep angle?"
The boy nodded once more and so did the Hunter, he patted the boys back before drawing a sharp blade and piercing the gypsy's spinal column,
"Let the Holy Father, In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti relinquish you of your Ways."
The boy gave a sharp gasp, and Hadrianus slowly lowered him to the ground, making a mental note to not lie to the boy, after his business with this Vampire was complete, he'd be sure to kill off the rest of the gypsies.
Such heretics could be allowed no pardon, and with that stole off into the night to examine the bastion's wall.