A Shade of Truth [Charles Crafter]

[Lancaster]

Rage.

Rage is the be all and end all; rage, as a matter of course. I've never felt so alive, so real; this is who I was supposed to be, this is who I was the whole time. All that... humanity, it was useless. Worthless. What would it ever amount to? I fought against it, but he always won out. Until he finally cut me off, like some kind of high-and-mighty Jekyll.

Well, **** that guy.

What he didn't know could certainly hurt him, and I was going to do my best to make it happen. The Shadow Realm and I are good friends; I don't care what comes of me, how many deaths I have to die. I have his face and he has mine, and he no longer has the ability to change it. I have his face, and I'm going to use it to become a royal pain in his ***.

It doesn't matter who my victims are. I don't care if they're vampire or human. I don't care if I'm seen. Hell, the more who witness the better. If I slaughter a bunch of humans then he'll be wanted by the authorities. If I attack a vampire then that vampire will go after him. And he's human now, that stupid ****. He's human, and expendable.

The caverns loomed ahead, the entrance a yawning depth of shadow in the dark. There was no light to shone from the blade I carried. There were figures near the entrance to the caverns; humans. Disappointing, really. I'd hoped they'd be vampire. I didn't care. I was swift in my endeavour, and if there was retaliation I didn't notice nor care. Whether I hit my mark or not I didn't know, nor care. I was there, showing my face, and then I was gone. An attack, whether it hit its mark or not, was still an attack.

From there, I went back to the city.

There was more work to be done.

[Charles Crafter]

The day was going absolutely fine. Charles had been asked to heal someone again, sort of a deal had been worked out, he'd heal them, they'd pay him. It was a splendid arrangement. Unfortunately, it seemed today he was going to find himself to be the one with a need of healing.

As he walked to near Alongquin Caverns where they were supposed to meet he found himself attacked. It happened fast, he practically saw the enemy as he darted at him, felt the wound open up, and then the enemy was practically gone already. He stood there in surprise, clutching the injury in pain and dropping to his knees for a moment, "What the actual..." He said to himself remembering the face he saw just before the injury, he'd remember that. He gritted his teeth as he felt the blood drip over his hand. He focused his mystical energy, healing the wound himself. That was probably one of the things Charles enjoyed most about being a sorcerer, these things would never last too long.

The attack, however, was something he refused to just let go until there was payback. They deliberately went after him, attacked him. They might have intended on even killing him. He wasn't sure why they did it, but it was worth figuring out.

After doing what he'd come for, Charles went searching. More then just that night, he did research, looking for who it was that might have done it and just as importantly if there were any occasions of it. It would take time he guessed.


In this day, he was just looking for the face. If this person was as...chaotic as he was before. It would be easy to guess he wasn't particularly careful about hiding it. Besides, he could look for other things as he walked as well, other enemies he needed to return a favor too, or allies he could either help or maybe get something from.

Charles had no idea the situation that his attacker was in, or rather, the person he thought he would find would be in. He'd never even heard of what a shade was. Much less assumed that it was in fact that that he had run into, not the real deal. Not what he would eventually find, thinking them his enemy rather then just as much a victim as him.

[Lancaster]

WEARING

Lancaster d’Artois had always been a peaceful man, and had balked at ever even harming a fly. So when the policemen had confronted him about a slaughter in the next suburb over – a family, apparently, parents with their two teenage children – Lancaster was dumbfounded. How could he possibly be considered a suspect?! He’d been told that there weren’t too many six-foot-six Australians in town and he matched the general description, regardless. Because Lancaster d’Artois, otherwise known as Elliot Lancaster as far all the paperwork was concerned, was a respectable business owner with no priors, they’d let him go.

But he’d been warned. They were watching him – and he wasn’t to leave town.

As tempting as it was to jump on a plane to anywhere, Lancaster did as he was told and stayed put. He continued to work hard and showed his face in all the right places; he’d returned to his charity work, now better able to accommodate the hours given he could help set up in the day time. And he was certain to always make sure he had a solid alibi.

Because now, Elliot started to wonder if he wasn’t actually insane. He’d been attacked. When he’d least expected it, he’d been shot and stabbed at; he was most often able to avoid the attacks, but he a couple of scars. And the person who always attacked him was… well, himself. It was ******* terrifying, to be honest, but he didn’t want to mention it to anyone in case he was going batshit crazy. He wondered if he’d stepped into some kind of ‘fight club’ realm and he had his very own Tyler Durden to contend with. Except, as far as other personalities go, he wasn’t imaginative enough to give his a different face.

The pub was where people could Lancaster more often than not. Tonight, he was helping a band to set up their instruments; the live scene had dropped off a bit in his absence, but he’d reached out to all the young musicians trying to get their foot in the door and had offered them some slots. The jukebox music played quietly overhead. The bar was busy, but not as busy as it was going to get. Roxette was at the bar, tending to the customers. No longer enthralled, Roxette remained regardless. Now, she stayed because she wanted to, not because she was forced.

There was a group of rowdy college students in the corner, and in the few tables in front of the stage were friends of the band there to offer their support. At the bar were a few stragglers; another booth in the other corner was reserved for a hen’s night. The steady thrum of the pub was what made Lancaster happy, the warmth of it. He always wished there’d be no trouble. But his wish wasn’t always granted…

[Charles Crafter]

Charles didn't truly know of Lancasters reputation, or he eventually did, just didn't put much into it, mostly because he knew reputation didn't always have to do with what the person would truly do. And he knew the face that attacked him was for certain this persons. As he walked into the bar he wasn't sure he'd actually see who he was looking for, but even if he didn't at least he could see if there was anything else to do here.

He didn't look around too eagerly though that'd draw attention, however, it didn't take all too long however before he finally spotted the former vampire. As eager as he was to just straight up send a strike of lightning through the crowd and into his target, not only did he not want to hurt or kill that many people, but such a dangerous move could get him attacked by the cops, especially since they'd know he was a walking weapon. Not that there weren't enough of those walking around.

No, he'd have to be more careful with this. Charles took a good look at those present and began to navigate around and through them in order to reach Lancaster. He wanted to be right up on him before he knew he was there, or at least get there fast enough it wouldn't matter. The moment he was within a yard or two of them he'd reach out a hand to try and grasp Lancaster's shoulder with the words, "You remember me? Maybe maybe not. But you attacked me right at Alongquin caverns. Mind if we go somewhere so that I don't try to fry you in public." he said it in a tone that shouldn't attract attention, and with a smile that was clearly intended to look fake.

Charles was not the type to always take revenge, he could forgive pretty easily. However that was if the person had a legitimate reason. As far as he'd seen, this person had had no reason whatsoever to attack him. Maybe he'd done so out of spite, maybe because he had heard Charles was healing Minsc and he was an enemy of hers, maybe he was just totally crazy. But whatever the reason, Charles intended on finding out somewhere he could strike at the man without having to get others in the way. But first and foremost he wanted to know just why he'd been attacked and not hear some nonsense about him being mistaken and that it must have been somebody else. He knew the face and he didn't like being screwed with.

[Lancaster]

Lancaster had stepped off the stage to head for the little sound booth, from where he (or the band’s personal sound guy) could fiddle with the acoustics. They’d do a sound check soon, and they’d have to figure out the levels. A heavy hand upon Lancaster’s shoulder, however, told him that he was wanted.

At first his expression was merely curious; he figured it was one of the band members coming to tell him some new information or ask him a question, or even one of the bar staff to alert him to some new problem. Instead, it was a face that Lancaster had never seen before, though the man certainly claimed to know Lancaster. An attack was not an unimportant thing, and his life as a vampire had taught the musician that nothing was taken lightly. Insults could spell death. There was no eye for an eye, no. It was always far more dramatic than that.

And he knew that he had to be careful, now. Death wasn’t an option. Death was permanent. He couldn’t be blasé anymore about the possibility. At least he retained the ability to defend himself; there was plenty that he had learned as a vampire that still carried over, even if he was physically weaker. He turned to face his accuser and looked him in the eye. There were other things that carried over, too—such as Lancaster’s inability to lie. But this stranger didn’t know that. His voice remained deep and calming, however; a soothing and alluring gift that he still had, and perhaps he’d always had it without truly knowing its worth.

”I can understand your confusion,” he said, hands up in surrender. He meant no harm. ”I’d prefer to stay public, if you don’t mind. At least until you’ve heard me out…” he said. Truly, he appreciated that he hadn’t yet been attacked; that this man wanted to keep their business private. He only hoped that he was also a man of reason.

[Charles Crafter]

Charles narrowed his eyes at the statement, So he claims he's willing to explain. Well, that is what I came here for. Let's just hope he's not capable of spinning a lie clever enough to get away with. There are those who can do that, and in Harper Rock, I can't imagine they're all that uncommon. he thought.

"Ok, fine. But I'd rather people not get in the way if I decide this actually needs to go down violently. Injuries aren't painless." he said watching the man suspiciously. Charles had no trust of people who attacked, and then wanted to talk when they were tracked down. He knew all too well how often people talking in public was merely a way to steal time for them to do something, or someone else to.

"Why don't you elaborate on this." Charles added. He was ready to strike the man down and vanish, it was a bit of an unusual tactic for him. But it was one he'd grown to decide may be necessary with as many enemies as he seemed to be making recently. It wasn't worth letting people who were threats keep on. It might take a bit of a fight, but as long as he injured him enough for him to know he wasn't to mess with that was acceptable. Another option was recompense. Healing injuries was no the cheapest thing. It takes time and energy, and in some cases money if he's too expended to do it himself.

[Lancaster]

”The cure,” Lancaster said. Simple, not subtle. Assuming this guy was aware of everything that went down in this city, then those two words could surely catch his attention and hold it. One of them wanted to go somewhere private, and the other was not willing to risk his newfound mortality by going somewhere he could be slaughtered without witnesses.

”It’s got to do with the cure and consequences that, if I’d known about them, I’d never have stepped foot into that laboratory,” he said, his voice low, a harsh whisper. The humans of this city were savvy; they knew what was going on and those that still didn’t believe what the news was telling them were fools. Though, Lancaster wanted to hope they wouldn’t believe the news, not all of it. Not all vampires were monsters. Some were just forced into a life they didn’t want or ask for. Sometimes monstrosity was beyond their control. Though that wouldn’t excuse them from their actions, it was something to take into consideration. Pure evil was a rarity, and though Lancaster had sometimes felt as if he were possessed by a demon, more often he felt that he was in control of said demon.

”We’ll take a booth, yeah? We’ll get drinks. On the house. And I’ll tell you all about it,” he said. Being the owner of the bar had its perks, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use them. And nor would he hesitate to tell the whole story. Sure, it could put him in danger but he’d weighed the pros and cons, and he’d told himself that if anyone came asking, he would tell them everything he knew. It was better that people were aware of the consequences of the cure. The more the word spread, the less vampires would want it, or so he hoped.

Unless there were more selfish people out there than he gave this city credit for.

[Charles Crafter]

Charles tilted his head back and to the side in doubt, eyeing Lancaster before sitting at the bar suspicious still. He paid close attention to whatever he'd be brought, he had no intention of getting poisoned even in the search of curiosity.

He was well aware of what had happened with the cure, at least of what he could learn. He even tried to get it himself to mass produce it, unfortunately, it seemed he was a bit late for that. He had hoped if he could get it it would become easier for vampires to become human, and thus decrease all the trouble they were causing. From the sound of it, either this man was a vampire, and somebody got the cure and cured him, or he'd been involved in perhaps trying to cure another vampire.

"Alright then, spill, what is it that I'm missing?" He asked. He said it in a neutral tone, but he was certain that he had to not know something much more serious. Unless this guy was simply trying to stall. Charles wasn't sure he was gonna kill him anyway but this guy might not know that.

[Lancaster]

Not a booth, then. The guy decided to take a seat at the bar and Lancaster didn’t stop him. It would be a strange conversation for others to overhear but perhaps it would only fill out the rumour mill. And that’s what Lancaster had hoped for. If he could have a stage and address the whole city, he might just do it. But there was no way he could organise such an event. Could he? Would he even be allowed to?

Though Lancaster had been the one to suggest drinks, he didn’t yet order anything. He was still on the clock and shouldn’t consume anything alcoholic. If the tender came their way, he’d just ask for water.

”I used to be a vampire. Going on six years as one. I was cured. I volunteered. At first it felt fine, though had this strange feeling something wasn’t quite right. I still have it,” he said. It was an odd sensation lingering at his core. An emptiness, maybe. Or just the queasy sensation of something not quite right. It could be attributed to the knowledge was about to divulge.

”But then I was attacked by someone who looked just like me. A vampire. I thought I was going crazy. It happened again. The fact that you’ve been attacked and I know for a fact that it was not me… I’m not crazy. There’s a doppelganger out there. Like… the cure didn’t really cure me, it just sliced the vampire out of me. And now he’s out there on rampage…” he said. It sounded insane, out loud. It sounded batshit crazy. But it was the truth.

[Charles Crafter]

Charles looked at him doubtfully as he told his story. He didn't feel any more comfortable about the situation since Lancaster hadn't ordered anything, still, considering he had to be on business, that was not totally unreasonable. On the other hand Charles didn't feel particularly trusting right now and wasn't totally in the mood to be positive about things.

He took a sip, tasting it carefully to see if it was close enough to what it should be just in case. Not that he wasn't aware of tasteless poison. But, he figured, it might be too much of a show for Lancaster to try that here. So he was most likely safe. Charles tilted his head towards him for a moment, "Alright, but what evidence do I have that would make me believe that. I know crazy things happen with vampires, and humans for that matter, but you do have to admit that that's one of the crazier things and I'm not sure your word alone is enough." he commented looking back at the drink. Though he still appeared perfectly doubtful, he was leaning towards believing it.

It wouldn't exactly be totally absurd now would it. There have been many situations where things happen which go against what I'm used to. Everything just got so absurd after I became a sorcerer. Whether that's what opened me up to the world of the supernatural, or being opened up to that world made me a sorcerer and I just got deeper in. In any case, it's not like I can completely throw what he's saying out the window. But nor should I just believe whatever comes out of his mouth. He thought to himself.