The sun was already in the sky when Daniel finally woke up. He came to with a yell, being that the last thing he remembered was that strange face forming in the palm of D's gauntlet. What had that thing been? He was sleeping on the couch, how had he gotten here? Why'd he fallen asleep, for that matter? One minute, he was ready to join D in fighting Tremere or who ever he sent to retrieve Catherine, and the next, he'd blacked out and woken up here.
"What the hell happened last night?" he muttered while getting to his feet and walking outside. Iria was already tending to the animals, and Catherine was outside in the sunlight at last, helping with the chores around the ranch. Whatever had happened, Catherine was safe, and she was getting back to her normal cheerful self.
Wait a minute, where was D? Surely he hadn't gone off to the castle alone? "Iria!" Daniel called out. His older sister, brushing dirt off her hands, looked over at him. "Where's D!"
"He headed off into town on that motorcycle of his!" she called back. "Said he'd be back in a few hours!"
His motorcycle giving a powerful growl as he tore down the dirt road, D narrowed his eyes while holding the steering grip steady. Through his visor, he got calculations on how far it was to town as well as a readout of his speed. His left foot pushed on the accelerator while his right hand came up to the console in the center of the dashboard and tapped a series of switches. Seconds later, a set of thrusters, three on each side, extended out from the rear of the motorcycle, flaring to life as a huge jump in velocity was registered by the data readout of D's shield visor.
Now coming to a fork in the path, D turned down toward the cobbled road which led to the town in the distance. "Maps and data on Runsalva," he stated into his helmet. After a moment, a translucent image imprinted on the inside of the visor, detailing the streets and locals of the city. Now on the main road into the city, D shut down the overdrive thrusters and released the throttle, allowing his speed to bleed off before entering town.
"Where to find out more about this Jonathan Tremere," he muttered. Already, as he entered the city, people were staring at his motorcycle. It was quite a rare sight to see such a vehicle even in the bigger, more technological cities, and no doubt, out here in the frontier regions, it was something most people never even caught a glimpse of. Then again, D's motorcycle was quite an odd sight even in the technological center of the world.
About eight feet long, designed for a leaned back seating posture with the throttle controls mounted at the feet instead of on the handle grip, and a lift-up control board, the vehicle was definitely not a traditional design for such a machine. Panels now covered the ports where the overdrive thrusters would extend from, but the seam lines were obvious, and a thick windshield came up from the control board to well cover the driver and anyone else riding.
"Give me the location of city hall," D stated into the helmet. Instantly, the map displayed on his visor shifted into a close up while indicating the roads to take in order to reach the intended location. If there was any place with information on Tremere's reign of terror around here, it would be the city records. That meant dealing with Mayor Rodham, however. Not something D was looking forward to again after his less than grand first impression on Runsalva's leader.
No getting around it, unfortunately. D pulled back on the heavy drive shift pedal to bring the motorcycle's engine into a lower gear, turned left at the corner, and came to a halt as he reached city hall. The moment his motorcycle was shut off, the displays on his helmet visor vanished. D sighed and lifted up the control board, dismounting and lowering the board back down before tapping a sequence into the small keypad strapped to his right arm. After a moment, a small light on the control board began blinking, and, pulling off his helmet, D headed into the building before him.
He could feel the frightened stares that people gave him. Well aware of the aura he let off which spoke of the ability he had, D didn't exactly take offense to their worried expressions. Right now, however, that deadly air would be put to good work, and hopefully he could get some information out of Rodham.
Voices from the other side of the office door made D halt. Whoever was in there with Rodham was talking to him about the Rans, and it was not sounding like the discussion was a favorable one. Mention of driving the Rans out of the area, the idea of just going up to the ranch and killing Catherine being brought up, and then the suggestion that they simply turn over all three siblings to Tremere and hope that the vampire left the city alone.
"Loving people," Varda hissed as his face formed on the back of the gauntlet. He made the motion of sniffling, almost like he was expressing sympathy for the Rans. "They'd rather just take a knee-jerk action before you can even do your job."
"People like them don't deserve to be ranked as human," D replied sharply. He glanced around, noting that he was alone in the hallway, then narrowed his eyes while returning his attention to the office door. A knock on the door earned a resound order to go away. That was all the invitation he needed.
His right foot coming up to align with the handle, D kicked open the door and found himself looking at the mayor and a group of men who even now turned to stare at him in shock. "The knob was stuck," he remarked wryly while walking into the office. Already he could tell he'd given these strangers a very odd and unlikable impression of himself. Not that it mattered to him. "I need to know any information you have on Jonathan Tremere." Yes, now they were backing away from him. Maybe these men weren't so stupid after all. "When he first took up residence in the area, the area of his influence, and if anyone was living in the castle before him."
One of the men went red faced at the lack of manners that this young man was displaying for the head of the city government. "What gives you the right to just barge in here and-"
Out came the force gun to aim at that rather outspoken man's head. "I didn't ask you," D stated calmly while shifting his glance slightly toward the man. A gesture for his target to make himself less noticed. "Sit down, this won't take long." His attention was now on Rodham, and though the gun came down from its aim, it was not put away. "My request, Mister Rodham."
The mayor was silent. He glanced around at the other men in the room, then sighed. "Gentlemen," he began while gesturing to the hunter. "This is the young man I was telling you about, the hunter that Daniel Ran has hired to kill Duke Tremere." There was a chuckle from the mayor, one that definitely was in the intent to mock D. "The one who most certainly fail, hence our planning."
D's eyes shifted toward a wall, and in a flash, his force gun was raised and fired, causing a splatter of purple fluids to erupt from thin air. A moment later, the form of a reptilian creature appeared and fell off the wall from where it had been hiding under the protection of some kind of invisibility. "Duke Tremere?" the hunter intoned, his voice filled with suspicion. "I wasn't aware that the Kinthea were still referred to by titles of nobility." There was a slim smile on his lips now as the barrel of the force gun was now aimed at Rodham. "How long has he ruled here, I wonder?"
The human backed away while his companions moved out of the blast range of the gun. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Rodham exclaimed, now pressed against his desk while D took a step toward him. The blinking lights of the force gun, after a touch from D's thumb, went solid, indicating that the power level of the gun was at full. He pulled that trigger, it would unleash a blast that could vaporize Rodham's entire upper body. This boy meant business. "Alright, alright!" he yelled, raising his hands as if it would ward off any shot fired. "Duke Tremere has been at the castle since he killed the person who originally lived there!"
That was interesting. Tremere wasn't the one who had ordered the castle built? Perhaps there was more to this than D had first thought. "Are the original owners of the castle archived in the regional records?" he continued. His thumb tapped the setting switch, now returning the side lights to a blinking pattern. "Answer fast, Rodham, because my patience is running out very quickly."
"Yes, yes!" the mayor replied. His voice was cracked, filled with fear, fear of this young hunter. "You can't be serious about trying to kill Duke Tremere, he's over four hundred years old!"
D didn't move his aim. Instead, he allowed his eyes to shift in form, now feline slits that stared down at a terrified Rodham. "When I say I'm going to kill a vampire," he hissed smoothly, "I'm always dead serious."
The gun came back and was spun on his finger, slipped under the fold of his coat and D turned and left. No one said a word while he walked out the door and down the hall. It was just as well, nothing they could say would have changed what he intended to do.
The gun came back and was spun on his finger, slipped under the fold of his coat and D turned and left. No one said a word while he walked out the door and down the hall. It was just as well, nothing they could say would have changed what he intended to do.
"Now that's the cocky little bastard I know!" Varda exclaimed just before D reached the front door of the building. The face failed to form, but Varda hardly need to present his features in order to talk. "And here I was afraid you'd gotten all brooding and angsty on me!"
Tapping on the keypad around his right arm to deactivate his motorcycle's security system, D slipped his helmet on and slid into his seat on the vehicle. With the control board lowered in place, he powered the ignition and tapped on the console keypad to activate his helmet's data interface. "Bring me the location of the Runsalva hall of records," he stated. While his visor displayed the directions, D revved the engine, pushed on the right side pedal to engage the drive gears, and tore off down the road, now making his way back through the town.
Runsalva was a rather low-tech frontier town. Since it was so far out from the central hub of the region, there was almost no chance that they used any modern computer system for storing their records. No doubt, the regional capital had to send out a census to gather updates on the size and population of this place because they were such a remote and low technology city. As it was, there were few places with much of a high level of technology.
It wasn't long before he'd found his next destination, and, pulling his motorcycle around to hide in a narrow alleyway just next to the hall of records, D slipped off the vehicle and reactivated the security system. Hopefully, no one would get the bright idea of trying to steal the machine here, because they would be in for one nasty surprise. He stepped out of the alley, opened the doors of the building, and made his way toward the main hictorical documents that detailed landowners and residents of the area.
It was hours before he came across the information he needed. At last finding material pertaining to the castle, D set the rather thin folder on a desk and flipped it open. Already, he could see that there was more to the castle that he'd originally assumed. Apparently, it had been built just after the revolt three hundred years ago, when the vampire rulers had been overthrown and driven out to the fringes of the world. The original owner, a man by the name of Hyrem Greymare, had been a very wealthy landowner and one of the original founders of Runsalva. The castle had served not just as his home, but as a safe haven for wandering travelers.
That was until Jonathan Tremere arrived. It seemed that when Tremere came to this region, he posed as one of those travelers, took advantage of Greymare's hospitality, and killed the castle owner, claiming the region as his own. Ever since, Tremere had been maintaining an iron grip on Runsalva.
Still, something piqued at D's curiousity in regards to the name of Hyrem Greymare. It sounded familiar, but he wasn't quite sure from where. "Varda," he said softly while now looking for any records on Greymare, "you know the name Hyrem Greymare?"
"Hyrem Greymare?" the gauntlet replied, voice touched with confusion. The face furled its 'brows' while D continued to search for information on the name in question. "It sounds familiar, but I can't remember off the top of my head. Why do you ask?"
"He was the person who used to live out in the castle before Tremere came here," the young hunter stated as he found the folder and pulled it out. Flipping it open, D's eyes ran down the records that were filed in this folder. Oddly, there wasn't much, save that he was one of the original residents in Runsalva, a rich land owner who was quite generous, and that he'd been killed by Tremere.
Wait. According to this, Tremere showed up around two hundred and thirty years ago, which would have made it about seventy years after the castle was built and Runsalva was settled. Greymare looked to be about in his late thirties or early fourties from the picture in his file. Yet the photo of him from just before he was killed looked like he hadn't aged at all. No human looked like that at a century old. Greymare had to have been another vampire. Not a Kinthea, there had been no reports of vampire attacks until Tremere, nor was he a kuei-jin.
"A vanpyr in this region?" D whispered while continuing to read the file. He paused, shut the folder, and went about putting away all the materials he'd gathered. As soon as he was done, D walked out of the building, headed around into the alley, and found that his motorcycle was untouched. Nearby, however, was a scorched piece of wood that looked to have been blasted. Seemed that someone had tried to get at his motorcycle after all and used the smart methods of testing for security systems.
Deactivating the system, D slipped his helmet on, got on, and powered up the engine drives. Something was very odd about the entire business surrounding Jonathan Tremere. The mayor seemed more intent on pleasing the vampire than getting rid of the problem, those thralls the night before acted like they ruled the region completely, and it seemed that the castle had been the home of a vanpyr before Tremere's arrival.
Pulling out onto the main street, D gunned the engine, racing toward the road leading toward the Rans' ranch. As soon as he was out of town, D pushed the right side pedal to shift into high gear, then activated the overdrive and tore away at high speed. He'd spent long enough finding out what he could from the city records, he'd have to get more information from a different source.