I'll kick things off myself with a bit of backstory on Hannibal. Personally I would welcome any and all comments, both positive and negative - thoughtful feedback is good :) There
was a palpable gladness in the air as he turned to follow the well-kept gravel
lane towards the dignified old chapter house. Spring had finally settled upon
the environs in earnest and the late afternoon was alive with flowery
fragrances wafting in from the estates gardens to attract the buzzing insects
on which the birds were taking their evening meal before settling in for the
night. Hannibal hailed the old groundskeeper warmly and shook the hand of the
butler opening the massive door before him, smiling politely at the man’s
cordial greeting, before asking about his daughters health; she had been quite
ill recently, so much so that foul play was suspected and The Grand Order of
DarkWatchers had detailed their best investigators to look into the matter. The
portrait of First Master Abromthous, imperious in his resplendent finery looked
down upon him as he made his way upstairs towards the offices of his mentor. As
before, ever since ascending the flight for the first time, only days prior to
his initiation, he noticed and dwelled for a moment upon the scaled and clawed
hands of the founder clutching his famed Rod of Unmaking. Then he had feared it
was a sign of villainy, now he knew that it was simply a mark left upon those
who gazed deeply into the secrets that the night held, a price they happily
payed to peer behind the veil and to master the secret language of the stars so
that they could better battle the foul spirits and cadavers which sought to
work their evil beyond death after the sun had set. His
footsteps down the hall were muffled by the deep dark carpet stretching down
the full length of the wide hallway. The ornate miniature chandeliers cast
their magical glow all about revealing the meticulously cleaned glass cases
housing several of the orders most notable artifacts; Fuella Dondron’s Wand of
Flame with which she had incinerated an entire graveyard as well as the crypts
beneath it, ending the reign of terror that the Ghoul King had kept the countryside
under for many years and Minn’s Mystic Eye, a gemstone capable of revealing the
true body of any haunting spirit, no matter how shadowy and ethereal it might
otherwise appear. Finally, at the far wall, in a low case beneath the window,
with eldritch runes imprinted into the silver of its bindings, glowing so
bright that it’s blue incandescence overcame the ambient illumination was The
Vampire Signet Ring, stolen thrice since it was obtained, purportedly cut from
the hand of the first Vampyr, it had been recovered each time in violent crusades
led by the Orders elders, marked by great slayings of the undead on every occasion.
It was said by some in the junior echelon that this relic was kept out in open
in this manner to better draw out would be thieves so that the cleansings could
once again commence. He
rapped his knuckles lightly against the heavy wooden door at the end of the
hall and, upon hearing the invitation to proceed from within, entered. As the
door swung inward it jangled against a few hanging chains snaking their way
through the ceiling and up to the roof of the manse where a large telescope had
been installed. The spacious chamber was dominated by a large desk made of what
seemed to be some sort of dark petrified wood. Behind it, sitting in a high
wide chair, with silk cushions strategically placed all about to better support
his growing girth, Master Balthazar Corvallis smiled brightly at the visitor. “Hannibal,
my boy!” he beamed. “It’s always such a pleasure to see you.” He stood and extended
a hand across the table which Hannibal accepted in a hearty handshake striding
forward. “Sit and rid yourself of that gruesome appendage you insist on
carrying about your person,” he continued eyeing the mottled green and grey
disembodied hand perched upon the newcomers shoulder with displeasure. Hannibal
reached out a long arm to lean his staff carefully against the wall and the ghoulish
limb made an acrobatic leap from his shoulder to land on the tip of the staff,
clutching it tight. Pulling a chair from its place next to a workbench strewn
with mechanical widgets and alchemical beakers he lowered himself down to sit
but his elder arrested him before he could complete the motion. “Wait!” he
exclaimed pointing to a cabinet in the far corner. “Pour us a drink before you
sit down. The good stuff, from the back.” As
his once pupil made his away to the liquor cabinet, Balthazar eyed the hand resting
atop the staff. “You never fear that it will strangle you one night as you
sleep? Or claw at your eyes at an inopportune moment?” “Not
at all,” Hannibal replied as he eyed the bottles, opening a select few to sniff
the contents. “Master Len’Mordus commended me on the strength of the binding
and has assured me that he couldn’t have done a better job himself. It’s quite securely
constrained.” He lifted a bottle for Balthazar’s approval. The
seated man laughed out loud scratching at the skin between the shallow bony
ridges protruding from his forehead. “Ha! You certainly know your spirits boy!
You have a better feel for that then you do for your own safety. Staking your very
life on the opinion of a drow!” “His
demesne down in the cellars is fairly disquieting I’ll grant you,” Hannibal remarked
as he poured. “But from everything I’ve heard the order has never had a more
skilled arcane practitioner.” “Aye
lad, I jest,” Balthazar said amicably as he accepted a glass of quince brandy
from Hannibal. He took a slow sip and closed his eyes savoring the taste and
aroma. “He certainly knows what he speaks of as well as any man could.” “So,”
spoke Hannibal as he settled down with his drink, “it really is nice to see you
again but why did you send me an official invitation? I assume it’s a matter of
order business? A new assignment?” Balthazar
leaned forward resting his elbows upon the massive desk. “You remember that
villainy The Marquis visited upon Amaunator’s faithful a couple of months back?” Hannibal
slowly nodded. “He abducted one of their priestesses, desecrated and turned her
and then sent her back to them to that they might see what she had become. No
doubt intending to cause them further misery; having to unravel one who was
until recently their own.” “Indeed.
The thing is though, they never got around to it, she fled, in broad daylight
if you’ll believe their telling of it.” “Curious.
She was a priestess though, any chance that the Bright Shining One didn’t strip
her of her divine blessings?” “Unlikely.
Impossible to hear them tell it, and we must assume they would know.” Balthazar
shrugged lightly before continuing. “But you may be on the right track. Her family
has some fairly recent fey lineage, it could be that has manifested more
overtly, or perhaps she had just been hiding it till now.” “Do
we know where she’s run to?” Hannibal asked lifting the glass to inhale the
fruity bouquet before taking a sip of the potent nectar they shared. Balthazar
brightened visibly and leaned back in his chair. “You’ll love this! Apparently
she has crossed planar boundaries to join a guild of mercenary adventurers.” Hannibal
raised his eyebrows. “They know of her nature? They don’t mind a vampire in
their midst? And one from an ancient bloodline to boot?” “They’re
interplanar mercenary adventurers ! Who knows what they think? Or if they even
know? Or maybe they’re all bloody vampires and revenants and shambling ghouls!”
Balthazar exclaimed throwing his arms up. “In
any case excising her will be quite a job, especially quietly. Assuming they’re
not all undead we don’t want to start a blood feud with some hotheads if they’ve
accepted her as one of their own. You want that I should put her down?” Hannibal
reasoned. “My
dear boy,” began Balthazar, “please don’t feel slighted but if it were a simple
matter of destroying her we would have given the task to someone else. You are
more than capable, but we have more proficient slayers. No, we need you to
investigate. She came and spoke to her family before fleeing this plane; they
all swear that she was alive, paler and perhaps more unfeeling than while she
lived, but alive and breathing nonetheless. It could be a simple glamor that
tricked them, but how did she defy the sun? We need you to travel and join this
guild yourself to better keep an eye on her. To see what her true nature is and
then either handle the matter yourself as best you can or report back with your
findings that the Council may decide on the issue. We need your wits here boy.”
