Humans and all of the races, where ever Dracius went, they were all the same. All petty, vicious and selfish in their own ways.Kotorchix wrote:
It didn’t matter how ‘above’ them those who claimed immortality, were. The vampires with their almost limitless strength and immunity to pain, or the magical power they somehow received if they were of the original-kind. The Hunters with their magical potential, supreme level of education and their super-human speed and reflexes. They still inherited the flaws and weaknesses of their original race or their past, “normal” lives. The elves, Dracius included, as Hunters or vampires still suffered from their stronger emotional responses. The humans- their averageness in almost all aspects. The Dwarves with their more limited emotional capacity and their short, stubby limbs.
But they also inherited the very few positive traits as well. If that wasn’t the case the vampire nation of Valandri wouldn't have prospered for five hundred years. Wouldn’t have
Or negatives which could qualify as positives for one such as Dracius as he studied the man who sat on the opposite side of the table to him, a man whose hands were manacled at the wrists together. A man who was once a human but who had been put through a process which was unimaginatively named “The Ritual.” He was now a Hunter, and thus his life span was so far enhanced that although he seemed in his mid twenties he was almost into his sixties.
The man who sweated with the fear he had inherited from a survival instinct evolved over millions of years of humanity’s evolution, which was now working against him.
Dracius smiled, but he always smiled. He knew his own smiles well, the slight differentiation of them, the smile for anger, the smile for frustration, the smile for the small vestiges of happiness he still had. This which was learned over countless hours in front of mirrors. It was a weakness of his he had tried and tried again to curb, to show only one smile for everything. But it was a weakness which, as far as he knew, only he was aware of.
But it still irked him and if anyone could tell which smile was which, it would be a former Hunter such as this.
He let the man sweat for about half a minute more before finally saying; ‘Did you know Mr Sevroar that there have been thirty five recorded serial killers in Valandri since the four hundred or so years that vampires have lived here.’
Sevroar folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. ‘I heard there was thirty four and I have no idea what that has to do with me.’
‘Oh,’ said Dracius as he placed an old wooden chest on the table. ‘My mistake then. And I don’t know if that has anything to do with you, does that have anything to do with you?’
Sevroar grimaced in bemusement and shook his head.
‘What do you think is in this chest of mine?’ said Dracius.
‘I-I don’t know. The records of those killers, I suppose? Look! I don’t know why you’ve brought me in yet again. There is no serial killer. You already have your killer and I helped you catch him, damn you. Just let me get back to my life, please.’
Dracius studied the Hunter for a good while before reaching out to the chest and sliding in front of him before unclasping the lock.’You are a Hunter, aren’t you not? That means you a well trained in pretty much...everything, right?’
Sevroar grimaced again. ‘Why is it you? Where are Vortel and Kannit? Weren’t they in charge of this case? They got the killer. Just leave me in peace!’
‘Mr Sevroar, do you know what I believe in?’
‘What...What kind of ridiculous question is that? Of course I don’t know what you believe.’
‘I believe,’ said Dracius as he began to take piece of paper after piece of paper out of the chest placed them in front of Sevroar one by one, all the while studying the Hunter. But even after seeing what was on them, the Hunter showed nothing.
‘Peace Mr Sevroar can lead to stagnation, and stagnation leads to weakness. Which in turn leads to destruction. Conflict, struggle is what makes one stronger. That is why I became a Rule Enforcement officer when I came to Valandri so long ago, to challenge myself, to keep me from stagnating. Tell me Mr Sevroar, in this peace have you stagnated? You don’t seem to have.’
There were seventeen pieces of paper spread on the table, on everyone was a very detailed portrait.
Savroar gazed down at them for a good half a minute before looking back to Dracius. ‘Why are you showing me these?’
‘Why not show you these?’
‘Do you always answer a fucking question with another fucking question?’
Sevroar let out a groan and wiped his palm down his face. ‘Can’t I just go, now?’
Dracius picked up one of the portraits and held it up: it was the image of a bearded balding old human.
‘This is...or was Sonton Feif. He was killed back in 2332 when he accidentally fell down the stairs of his apartment block in the town of Corssoon.’
Dracius let that hang before continuing. ‘That was only a year after you came to retire in Valandri, wasn’t it?’
‘You also happened to live in Corssoon during that time, didn’t you?’
‘Yes. So what? You implying I killed that old man? You said it yourself, it was an accident. He fell down stairs. This is just some shitty circumstantial evidence, nothing more.’
Dracius placed the portrait back on the table. ‘You do like to travel a lot, don’t you, Mr Sevroar.’
‘Yeah, that a crime now?’
Dracius picked up another portrait, it was a middle aged dwarven woman. ‘This was Falok Tremit. She was accidentally killed in a hit and run by a horse and carriage. The driver was never caught. This was back in 2341 and in the city of Carrinton on the 7th of Agisting not long after mid-night. A day which you so happened to be away from home for a week long get away. But you had never told your neighbours where you were going exactly.’
Savroar’s eyes narrowed. ‘That is beyond ridiculously circumstantial-’
He was interrupted by Dracius picking up and placing another portrait, then three others almost slamming them on the table. ‘Delmaine Tor, Jarlet Fentis, Savilk Dahron and Fald Tith. All of them happening to die just so when you are away from home. This is circumstantial, I will give you that but in this instance circumstantial is actually legitimate. If not this is all one hell of a coincidence.’
Dracius then raised every portrait while stating their names. ‘While all of these other deaths just so happen to happen when you were living in the very same town or city as them. Tell me, Hunter. Why is that?’
‘Bad luck,’ said Savroar. ‘People die from accidents all the time. They were accidents.’
‘Were they though?’ said Dracius. ‘I have a confession to make, I was a Hunter-neophyte in my youth.’
Savroar’s eyes widened for a split second, before a grin spread and he leaned back in his chair. ‘Were you really? So you wimped out, then? Is that why you are doing this? Forcing me here out of some petty spite? Jealous because I had the balls to actually go through the Ritual. To be one of the one in five?’
Dracius felt his smile falter slightly. ‘No, you misunderstand me. What I meant to say as I too have been taught the...intricacies of the art of assassination. Because that is what you Hunters, for all intents and purposes are, aren’t you?’
Savroar’s grin was gone.
‘So, Mr Savroar I know you are taught how to make an assassination look like an accident. It was apparently your speciality, wasn’t it? You have also spread them over the years the longest being almost four years. This to keep them from being too close together, too.’
Savroar laughed. ‘So what? It means nothing. Nothing, vampire. Why would I want to kill those people? I see no commonality between them, they’re of all different ages, races, everything nothing.’
‘Agreed,’ said Dracius. ‘And that is why these...murders have gone on without our knowledge...But there is one commonality.’
That got Savroar’s attention.
‘Everyone of them was religious. All of them believed in the divine will of the false god: Jaroai. And that was why they had all rejected the offer of being sired into vampirism.’
Savroar said nothing.
‘Sure them still clinging to that belief even after being forced to flee from religious persecution from that very same religion seems a little foolish. But that doesn’t mean they deserved death, Mr Savroar.’
Dracius took a book out of the chest and began to flick through it. ‘And according to your record you have a very good reason to hold such a hatred fore the church-’
‘How in all the hells did you get hold of that?’
Dracius shrugged. ‘I was once a front liner, even built up quite a reputation for myself. So much so I can gain access to the very, highly secret records of-.’
‘I want a representative.’
‘You are well within your rights to have one. But please tell me, you do also know how to manipulate a crime scene to frame an innocent fellow for the murder, don’t you?’
‘I want...a representative!’
Dracius stood up from his chair. ‘They were your next door neighbours, Mr Savroar, don’t tell that was “bad luck” too. Mr Rodrin still maintains he didn’t do it and that you had a...unhealthy obsession with the victim, his wife.’
Savroar just grimaced.
Dracius then smiled a real smile, then left out the door.
Dracius was greeted by most of his fellow investigators as he stepped out the door. All of whom stood in silent awe. Dracius approached both Vortel and Kannit and placed Savroar’s record against Kannit’s chest.
‘Seems I might have I got your man for you,’ said Dracius then he pushed past them and made his way to his desk and planted himself on his seat.
‘Dracius,’ said head-investigator Volgut, the dwarven-vampire approached with heavy foot-falls. ‘The chief wants to speak with you.’
Dracius smile turned genuine. ‘Of course he does.’