So, this is the last teaser before the debut of War of Nytefall: Lost. Went for something that could be both serious and comedic. I always enjoy writing the Bob and Luther back-and-forth chats. Enjoy.
Standing in front of the smoldering ruins that used to be a Garian Temple, Clyde cannot shake the idea that he is missing an important clue. Having created an illusion of the destruction a few miles away to distract the Serabian military, the vampire is sure that they have enough time to do a thorough investigation. Even without being rushed, he still finds himself wanting to get the search done as quickly as possible. The stench of death has no effect on him, but it is the torn down buildings and trampled animals that send a chill down his spine. Having been the perpetrator of several rampages himself, the Dawn Fang cannot shake a sense of inhuman sadism that wafts from the carnage. Clyde walks through the rest of the town that was once known as Crivet and makes sure to examine every corpse. Most of them have been reduced to meat by multiple stab wounds while a chosen few have been hung up by their ankles. Getting closer to the foul-smelling bodies, he finds that those singled out for a torturous death are all priests and priestesses. One young woman in particular has been strapped to the crossbeam of a central well, her flesh stripped off and left dangling from her feet. Disgusted by the act of cruelty, Clyde yanks the corpse out of its bonds and does his best to put it back together before placing it in a pile of shredded blankets.
Waving to Mab, who is checking the highest points of the wreckage, he makes his way to the far side of town. Trampled ground and scattered garbage have replaced the first quarter mile of trees, which have been reduced to uneven stumps. Four circles of stones taken from the destroyed buildings have been partially buried, the inside of each one a swirled mix of dirt and ashes. Picking up a partially eaten turkey leg, Clyde watches as a line of red-tinted drool falls from the tip. Hiding his disgust, he throws it as far away as possible and heads to where he sees Bob and Luther. He can already tell that the pair are having one of their usual arguments, so he takes his time walking through the garbage. Stepping on what he thinks is a safe spot, the vampire’s leg sinks into a hidden hole and he yanks it free to find that it is now covered in shimmering blood. There is an acrid stench to the liquid and his fingers tingle when he touches the sticky muck.
“Please tell me one of you has an explanation,” Clyde declares as he hops the rest of the way. He takes off his defiled boot to find that the sole is partially melted, so he quickly tears off the muck-covered part of his pants. “Is this an acid mixed with blood? There’s no reason for these things to be combined unless it’s a vampire trap. I’ll add that to the list of things that make no sense here.”
“Maybe this Lost person secretes a preservation acid and she hid some victims to feed on in an emergency,” Luther suggests with a shrug. Picking up Clyde’s discarded pantleg with his sickle, he drapes it over a rotting piece of meat to see what happens. “It breaks flesh and bone down pretty quickly, which disproves my theory. Not that a vampire couldn’t drink the blood after cleaning it, but I’ve seen this acid before. Dawn Fangs who make a living off selling bottled blood use it to get a purer product. From what I’ve been told, this girl doesn’t seem the type to be in that kind of business. It looks like this was done to destroy evidence instead of harvesting too, which is disconcerting. I still think it is strange that this massacre is around the place you ran into her.”
“I told you this couldn’t have been her,” Bob insists while he tends to his steed. The bat-winged horse whinnies as he runs a comb through its thinning mane. “Lost seemed more curious and nervous to cause so much destruction. Besides, the Garians have been friendly towards us and kept our secret all this time. They’d never antagonize a Dawn Fang, which is the only reason I would think of her going berserk. We should ask that talking raven to get another look around the area. Where did he go, Luther?”
“For the last time, that’s me!”
“I’m still not used to your powers.”
“Even after seventeen years?”
“That isn’t much for vampires.”
“I transformed into a raven all the time prior to becoming a Dawn Fang.”
“Sorry, but I don’t live in the past.”
“Why must you poke at my sanity on a daily basis?”
“To make sure it’s still there?”