In a shrouded valley far off into the rural wastes, a terrible twilight plagues this twisted hillside; It is haunted by mistakes of humanity's past. Brave adventurers test their fortitude in this abominable place full of ruined dreams, but never do they emerge as they entered. The people of the Empire rarely talk of this place anymore, and why should they? Graves should be laid to rest, death and decay is part of life, who are they to stand defiantly to death itself? Only a fool would seek to fight the darkness. No Escape A Hunter walked swiftly through the clearing out of the forested path that his had map had shown. As old and decrepit the paper was, it stood true. The map brought him to the precipice of the Old Vale, its malignant mist hovering over the dilapidated remains. This was his destination. He settled on a clear set of ground at the approach to the winding decent. There would be no daylight here, as the fog perpetually choked out the light of the ruins. Makeshift tombstones and hurried crosses littered the clearing, some hopeful messages, wishing reprieve in the afterlife for dearly departed; others warned that evil had no face, took no prisoners, and killed indiscriminately. Traversing the Vale was a legend, a tale whispered with distanced fear by the bravest of bards, and mumbled with caution by the most inquisitive scholars. Tales of horror unimaginable, ones darkest fears, deformed monstrosities and beasts of otherworldly origin. Yet again, what was man if not a monster to itself? Samuel dared now dwell on horrors that scarred the mind, for he had one goal: rid himself of his curse. He would always remember the night vividly. It was the fear that drove him to desperation, seething rage at misfortune, and blind ignorance that he brought upon himself. He called out over the corpses of his parents in a moment of childish weakness, and that detestable disguised demon agreed all to happily. To avenge his family, his parents, that was all he wanted, not this dwelling evil. He received the curse with initial joy, "what divine providence that he of all people was heard!". Only After he began his quest to hunt the monster did he realize what evil he wrought upon himself. "To Never Escape" was the twisted hex that haunted Samuel. No monster however evil would be able to flee from him; of course, all deals come at a price. There was no rest for the hunter, not until every evil was eradicated around him. Initially it was amusing watching spindly goblins underestimate his skill only to realize that Samuel was the real monster among them. Then came the greater evils, the ones that lingered in peoples hearts: hate, avarice, corruption; they flocked to him like flies to a bloated corpse, followed him wherever he went. They were a plague to him and anyone who dared get close. Spending ones time as a magnet to evil was troublesome. The curse alienated him from the world, and crept deeper into his mind every second. Most men might have been driven mad, but Samuel withstood by sheer will. Forever stuck chasing evil in all its forms, never to be free of its clutch until it claimed him. That was, unless, this place had his answer, the remedy or some long forgotten ritual to lift it. Be it some fiction or other, this place had remaining treasures, and was good a place as any to contain some forbidden scroll. Samuel could think wistfully to memories of fearing what lurked in the shadows. The aura of evil surrounding him was a repugnant reminder of what he had become: A hunter. Idle long enough and all sorts of monsters would try and prove their superiority, so instead of being hunted, he became the hunter. Most commoners and simple folk had heard the story of the cursed alchemist's son at this point; the hunter had become something of a legend. Luckily the stories of his failings didn't catch as much ground. Samuel never was the type to revel in his own exploits; he preferred a life of silence that might give reprieve from his current predicament. The Hunter believed that he needed this life of solitude to protect not only himself, but the world around him. on the topic of the world around him, the hunter snapped out of his grim reverie. This place certainly reeked of decay, and it would be no easy time fighting his way through ruined streets if the stories and the like were as true as he was told. Sighing, Samuel stood to his feet once more, surveying the winding descent down the sheer cliff-side to see the safest route down into the Vale. Some patches of sloped ground still had the hint of a well traveled road etched into the vale; exposed gravel marking the route in some detail. Steadying a grip on his blade, he began the arduous walk down the twisting path. He passed by discarded caravans and their emptied cargo: picked through long ago. The air was thick and humid the further he descended into the fog covered valley, with each step distancing himself further from the relative safety of what lied above. Heart beating hard in his chest he breathed calmly, this place had a natural fear about it, but it was far from a blood soaked battlefield or abandoned manor. Every placement of his foot forward, the ground beneath him posed danger of giving way; sending him tumbling down the sheer slope. Samuel kept walking uneventfully as he carefully placed and judged each step with care. After some time he reached the end of the worn dirt path, and proceeded onto the paved stone of the ruined city. The buildings of the city were far past their prime, stones collapsed into rubble alongside wooden framing, with the furniture inside each rotted into barely recognizable heaps. Walking the road further, Samuel felt the eerie stillness around him, as if the air itself was as dead as its past inhabitants. Once bustling buildings reduced to shadows, the entire setting of this scene made Samuel nearly shudder. No corpses lied about, no blood or signs of upheaval; its citizens must either long gone or worse. Undead would pose a threat if in large enough numbers. Looking onward beyond the entry to the hamlet he saw something similar to a town square, scattered stalls and tattered tarps desperately clinging onto collapsed framing at a distance from a central well. The dark of the fog made it hard to see much further beyond. Distant cawing of ravens alongside the hushed breeze was all Samuel could hear, but hearing wasn't everything. The aura surrounding him might have been a curse, but given enough time he had learned more about it, especially the way it moved. While invisible to the uninitiated, it was a vast sea of shifting forces. These forces repelled each other, swaying back and forth like the tide. Focusing on the aura he felt the telltale shift of the trapped evils surrounding him as something drew closer, making them part to allow for a greater threat. Nearing the town center, Samuel rested his hand on the hilt of his weapon. Instead of drawing he reached behind his back to the lantern dangling off his pack. Taking a brief moment to light it, he held it in one hand ahead and drew his weapon. the hunter procured a medium length blade that weighed enough to use well in one hand, and weighed heavily in his heart: his father's sword. Not quite a noble by birth, Samuel's father was an esteemed alchemist. A brewer of reagents and potions for those who had the coin. The man always put his wife and child first in his life: coincidentally part of his downfall. Never an adventurer himself, he did travel, to far mountains, deep dwarven keeps, mystic elven groves, and the bustling cities of the empire. He desperately educated his son of the craft, a dying art often overlooked in favor of arcane spells and healing. Spells didn't require ingredients and equipment, only some blessing and a bit of mana. "Magic isn't as dependable as the mundane" Samuel remembered his father echo. Carrying on his farther's work, he had a bandoleer of concoctions useful for any situation at his disposal, well, he didn't have any poisons, he had one to many close calls of accidentally "misplacing" them... in the place of other potions. Samuel slowly drew closer to the well, the evil presence growing stronger with each step. Samuel placed down his pack and the lantern, feeling that whatever was coming was gaining fast. Free of extra encumbrance, He entered a familiar and practiced stance gained from years of combat. Standing guard in the town center Samuel swiveled around with weapon drawn, feeling the wind blow behind him, and the air suddenly chill. The once humid fog turned frigid as Samuel closed his eyes and focused. Something ethereal by the feel of it, and smug too. It would probably try striking from behind, the aura becoming weaker there as it parted to make way for a slender figure. Samuel feinted a strike behind him, swinging the blade behind his left before twisting bringing it down into an arch at his right, making contact with a coalescing figure, causing it to buckle and float a short ways backwards. A levitating skull shrouded by a dark purple shade, a specter. Sent reeling by an unexpected blow, the figure let out a piercing screech, and lashed out with erratic tendrils in the hunter's direction, both going to either side of him. Samuel dodged back, but the appendages followed, eventually grasping at his neck. The Hunter struggled as he felt the life begin to slip out of him, and reached into a pouch at his side, grabbing a pinch of silvery dust. Resisting the magic, the hunter released it at the specter. Fizzling and searing pops rang out as the creature reeled back in pain from the simple metal. As the Specter was stunned, Samuel advanced and lashed out from below with a strike that felt more solid than the first, followed with another from the opposite side of the blade. With a final gasp the monster bellowed a pained scream, as it shuddered violently, before melting into a thin puddle of ectoplasm. Samuel felt the aura around him shift back to its normal relaxed state, the apparition having been defeated. Gathering his pack, The hunter surveyed his surroundings once more, before remembering something he had heard. Supposedly ectoplasm was a useful ingredient in some stronger potions. He had heard it had interesting effects not found elsewhere in more "mortally acquired" substances. Procuring a glass phial, he secured some of the quickly evaporating goo. With the minor disturbance out of the way, the hunter resumed his travels, picking up the lantern and finally arriving at the damned well. Surprisingly, it was built sturdily, and the bucket and rope seemed in remarkable condition, as if it was still in use. A place like this might have some less sane inhabitants huddled in its dark corners. As for his original goal, Samuel should start looking for places that might have scrolls or treasures, perhaps a library, or some hidden crypt. Looking around he saw the once proud bell tower of a church, its architecture now lost to time. There was a small stone wall off to its side, capped by bent and rusted metal fencing. The hunter made his way over, taking care to look at his surroundings, and especially the landscape of the ancient graveyard. Samuel stepped over a section of rubble along the old wall, taking care to not get caught on the bent metal pikes sticking out of it. As he crossed into the small tract of land he glanced over at the imposing mausoleum: hewn from large stone chunks bearing engravings and artistic scenery. Getting a closer look, He could barely read the letters above it's entryway, but could make out three words "HERE ... IN ... REACH...". Most of it had completely become flush with the stone's surface, the spaces in between had the marks of lettering, but were just too eroded to figure out. Holding his lantern ahead, he was about to peer further into the mausoleum when he heard stone shift and rocks drop behind him. Looking up, he spotted a hole in the side of the chapel, overlooking the courtyard and the stone tomb. Could it have been a bird? maybe a rodent of some kind? Whatever it was, he felt no presence that was malicious or evil; his aura would've been stirred if there was some sort of monster nearby. Seeing no reason to feel concerned, Samuel nonchalantly continued onward, into the crypt. Above behind a wall, the rogue leaned her back against the wall and held her breath as her heart almost stopped. She slipped trying to catch a closer look at the outlandish being. She had witnessed it kill one of those ghosts in a second. The Elder had told her tales of malevolent things that came from the world beyond, but this "demon" was... terrifying! It wore those strange leathers and headgear, and had felt plain evil. Never mind the fact that it somehow managed to stun the damned thing with some kind of spell. The Elder had rambled on about the things he called "Humans" for hours on end, weaving intricate tales how they once dwelled above before they caused their own demise. Emm hesitantly peered back over the decayed wall as it had already lost interest. The thing almost saw her, would it attack her if it did? She couldn't let the demon get any further, even if it wasn't her job, letting it walk into the village could be a disaster. If she stopped it, maybe they would finally let her explore further out, and prove she was ready for the world beyond... Whatever she did, she had to defend Reach. Inside the mausoleum, Samuel looked at the blatantly obvious staircase down into darkness. Seeing nothing else, he walked down into the pitch black. The lantern's small flame scattered dully over the ancient brickwork lining the staircase. After reaching the bottom, the Hunter squinted into the distance. Dozens of alcoves lined the empty passage, every one containing an opened and emptied sarcophagus. In all of his time, Samuel was starting to get more unnerved by the lack of corpses than anything. The rumors of necromancy just might be true, but on consecrated corpses? Such a practice still required a lingering soul and immense arcane power. Nearing the end of the passage, Samuel looked at the gaping hole in the masonry towards the far wall. A large section of the wall had been pushed inwards, revealing a cavern passage behind. Had this place been built into a cavern? The prospect seemed realistic, it was definitely a novel concept. The hunter walked to the passage and was about to climb through when something caught him off guard: Movement. A furred claw stepped down into the crypt from above. Samuel momentarily debated turning out his light when another thing surprised him. "Stop right there Demon! I wont let you go any further into this passage, Leave now or.. or face me!" For the first time in months, the hunter managed to laugh. The voice was high pitched, and and seemingly belonged to a creature half his height resembling a bat person. Samuel had seen other races occasionally, dwarves, elves and Orcs, but never this. It wore some type of padded vest, and a pair of patchwork leather shorts. Compared to the beast-men of the wild, at least it seemed civilized to an extent, it even offered him a choice to leave! Most beast-men start with the classic "ILL DRINK FROM YER' SKULL". Samuel spoke up "Sorry for the intrusion, but its not often you meet people in ancient tombs. The Name's Samuel Venandi: Monster Hunter and Alchemist; at your service." Samuel tilted the wide brimmed hat that sit atop his head his head. He hadn't seen another living soul that tried conversing with him in weeks. It felt jarring to even introduce himself after so long. "I... I.. My names Emm, uhh, Emm, of the village I guess? I don't know what you mean by cursed or why you're laughin' but this ain't funny. You don't belong here." the rogue stammered. It actually introduced itself, which was unexpected, but it clearly wasn't afraid of her. It had this odd look about it, like it was confused or actually surprised. It spoke the same language the village used too, maybe she could try to reason with it, her option of fighting certainly wasn't looking up at all. "So... can you get outa' here and leave ...please?" Oh gods, that sounded so pathetic, it probably was about to- "Sure, can I ask you some questions too? I'm looking for something here and wanted a place to start my search, hopefully you might have a better idea of the area." Emm was in disbelief, as the thing not only was listening to her, but actually wanted to talk to her. It still had that terrifying aura about it, but it seemed like it wasn't that hostile. Maybe this would be her chance. If this thing really was one of those "humans", it might be able to tell her something important, so she could prove she was tougher than she looked to the village. The bat looked surprised, and Samuel was hoping that it agreed. whatever was here seemed important. If he befriended the creature, maybe he could figure out what it was hiding. In the back of his mind the hunter was beginning to feel he was going mad, but here he was: asking a bat person for directions. This surely was the path to insanity.