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Summary
For the better part of a decade that feels more akin to a lifetime, the vampire hunters of Zaun have held the nocturnal menace at bay through a combination of raw ingenuity and base violence. Standing as a bulwark against an unstoppable force, they’ve held their own admirably, but amidst the unspoken, gnawing silence lies a simple, unanswered truth: what chance do mere mortals stand in the long run against the machinations of creatures as untouched by the sun as they are by the ravages of time?
But something in the air as of late has changed, and the tides have turned. Something is amiss.
One day, an ominous carriage drawn by pitch black steeds ambles through the dilapidated front gates of what passes for a noble manor in Zaun. Its occupant as unknowable as the item they seek to deliver. Paltry chicken scratch scrawled on a measly scrap of old parchment paper secured with butcher’s twine and a wax seal. And with it, the potential to bring Zaun back from the very brink of decay.
For words rarely mean more than the intentions of the hand that inscribed them. And choices mean nothing if the will of the one who makes them is anything short of wholly and utterly unwavering.
#VampireJayvikWeek.