Having deposed the heiress of Castle Drakenhof Elize von Carstein and forced both her and her lover Erikan Crowfiend into retirement at the Red Abbey, Walach Harkon the Grand Master of the Order of the Blood Dragons set off on a journey West into Wissenland to the final resting place of his ancient master, the Blood Keep.

The Blood Dragon and his knights tore through the keep’s Sigmarite guards with ease and entered their ancient home, delving deep into its catacombs in search of a single tomb until finally, they found the coffin they were looking for. Walach approached the coffin and knocked on its lid 4 times before hearing a rumbling noise inside.

“Too soon Harkon! What is the meaning of this disturbance?” a ghoulish voice bellowed as a withered hand emerged from the coffin lid and pushed it to the side, revealing the vampire lord within.

“Deserters my Master. The necromancers Kemmler and Helsnicht as well as the vampires Vlad and Isabella von Carstein have abandoned Sylvania in favour of the King Who Shall Not Be Named. They mean to undermine our realm’s existence and shackle us into service to the Great Necromancer as Vlad has instructed of all his bloodline.” Walach responded, kneeling before the coffin.

The first blood knight Abhorash sat up from his coffin, removed a blood vial from his person, pulled out its cork with his fangs and poured its contents of dragon blood down his throat. The tainted blood seeped through his body, reviving his form wherever it touched and sating his blood-hunger as he instructed Walach to continue his report.

“They have travelled to the Southern deserts. They now fight in league with His followers, seeking out ancient tomes of power that will elevate their master to ever-greater ascendancy. If we are to remain free of His will, they must be prevented.”

“Are you certain of this?”

“It is beyond doubt, O Master.”

“It would appear you woke me for good reason, Harkon. Bring forth my blade.” the ancient Master of the Blood Dragons spoke. Harkon responded, beckoning two of his retainers over who were carrying an immense broadsword draped in cloth. The retainers handed the sword to Abhorash, who inspected the blade for damage before thanking Harkon for conserving the weapon in his absence.

“What is thy bidding my Master? Am I to pursue Von Carstein into the deserts?” Walach inquired.

“No. Only a select few have ever bested Von Carstein in martial combat and I have my doubts that you would succeed in such an endeavour.” Abhorash started, prompting Walach to raise an eyebrow despite keeping his head lowered as Abhorash spoke. “Better that Vashanesh be left to me. Harkon, bring me a squadron of your greatest Blood Dragons and a steed capable of bearing me on my journey. I ride for Khemri at sunset. As for you, my apprentice. Take the remainder of your knights, scour the far reaches of Sylvania, find those who still harbour loyalties to the Von Carsteins and subdue them. Once I have returned with Von Carstein’s head hanging from my saddle, we shall re-establish lasting order throughout the Midnight Aristocracy together.”

“As you wish, my Master.” Walach Harkon obeyed as he rose to his feet and left.

As Abhorash travelled South in search of the renegade Vampire Count, Walach turned his gaze to Sylvania over the next few weeks and months. Blood Knights patrolled the streets and roads linking the many towns and ruins of Sylvania, knocking door to door in search of those who remained loyal to the old regime while Von Carstein strongholds were immediately besieged. The wiser loyalists such as Lydia von Carstein agreed to follow Eliza von Carstein and Erikan Crowfiend’s footsteps by retiring to the Red Abbey after sufficient persuasion while a handful of Von Carstein followers such as Gorgivich Krakvald and Adolphus Krieger agreed to prioritise their Blood Knight routes over their loyalty to Mannfred, switching sides to join Walach’s purge. The more stubborn vampires were not offered such cushioned fates however as Gunther von Grecht and others were formally imprisoned within the dungeons beneath Blood Keep or simply executed outright. The worst recorded fate was left to Helmut von Carstein who, after striking Walach’s favourite underling Baron Loch’Jor the Hunter, was left dangling at the neck off the ramparts of Castle Drakenhof as food for the bats, still ‘undying’ through all that agony until the sun rose to finish him off. Finally, Harkon’s trail of terror culminated in the burning of Rottenburg House, where Vlad and Isabella had often retreated to in the courting stage of their relationship.

Yet through all this savagery, as Walach’s list of dissenters were struck down, one name continued to allude him and his order. Gustavus Von Carstein, the family fool last seen at the Battle of Siegfriedhof, the loss which claimed the unlife of Konrad von Carstein. Gustavus went missing that day, believed either destroyed or captured according to the rest of his family but Walach refused to believe this. So long as a single heir to Vlad’s legacy continued to walk free, no matter how remote the possibility seemed, lasting order could never be established. Thus, Walach vowed to personally find the missing Von Carstein and bring him to justice once and for all.

….

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• Like React: Walach and his hunters explored the vast expanses of the Old World yet despite their efforts, they never found a single sign of Gustavus’ whereabouts. Either Gustavus had spontaneously become a master of deception capable of deceiving even the great Northern Lords of Change or by a more likely standard, he really had been destroyed at Siegfriedhof.

….

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(Prelude to love, wow, angry, sad and laugh react)

Far away from the purges taking place in Sylvania, the Drauwalf family from Talabecland were tuckering down for some well-deserved sleep after a long day of tree-chopping. Raised as the son of a wandering tinker and his seamstress wife, Johann Drauwulf learnt at an early age that the world owed him no favours. Johann moved from place to place with his parents and his younger sister, never staying in any place very long as they fled from superstitious townsfolk blaming his family for whatever ills had befallen them since the family’s arrival.

Despite his downtrodden upbringing, Johann managed to make a name for himself as he grew into a man. He briefly worked as a guide through Talabecland’s forests for a local noble which led to him being employed as an Outrider yet this honour was soon stricken from him when this same noble was caught and murdered in an orc ambush Johann failed to spit, resulting in a dishonourable discharge from the Imperial infantry. Following this he took to less respected professions for a while such as tomb robbing and thievery yet eventually he managed to put this all behind him when he settled down in a small cottage outside the village of Hazelhof with the love of his life, re-training as a competent woodsman collecting timber from the forests for nearby villages in return for enough money to keep food on the table for his wife and two sons.

However, the Drauwulf home had a fifth resident, their tenant Gelbert. Gelbert was a strange, reclusive man with fair, porcelain-clear skin yet a voice as hoarse and put-on as that of a crow. The family barely ever saw their tenant however, for he professed to have a rare condition that made him excessively drowsy whenever he stood in sunlight. Consequently, he kept to himself throughout the daytime, his bedroom door firmly locked as he slept. Only once the Drauwulfs went to bed and night had fallen would Gelbert leave his room. By the time he woke in the morning, the sun high in the sky, Johann would sometimes find his timber pile added to over-night though he could never thank Gelbert as the tenant returned to his room. In truth there were times when Johann and his wife found their tenant’s behaviour suspicious, where they wondered whether they should report him to their local Witch Hunter. Nevertheless, so long as Gelbert kept adding to their timber-load and paying his monthly rent of a gold coin due on the 12th night of each month, the Drauwulfs always found reason to turn a blind eye to their tenant’s actions.

And so another day passed and the Drauwulfs cosied up in their beds, leaving Gelbert to get out of his, get dressed and go about his night-life. However, just as he was about to leave the cottage, there suddenly came a tapping on the cottage’s front door. Gelbert considered whether he should open it or not when a second tapping came, only these ones were louder and closer to thudding than simple tapping. Fearing that the next knock could wake the family from their beds, Gelbert opened the door.

“Hello Gustavus.” Walach Harkon spoke, standing in front of the door in a full suit of Blood Dragon’s armour with his great-sword sheathed on his back and a pair of mounted blood knights standing at rest a few paces behind him, before the blood knight proceeded to snigger and then laugh at the ill-fitting peasant’s tunic the Von Carstein vampire was wearing in an effort to fit into his new life.

“Ssshhhh! Shut up! You’ll wake them!” Gustavus spat in angered whispers.

“Alright, alright…. it’s just… this is too much…” Harkon replied as he barely contained his laugher.

“Stop it! Hold your tongue! Why are you even here? How did you find me?” Gustavus asked.

“Did you really think you were the first vampire who ever tried deserting from our ranks? It’s never difficult to find a vampire if you know what you’re looking for. A spate of missing livestock, hermit-like behaviour, an irrational fear of sunlight,… people always talk no matter how remote of a hiding place you think you have found. Although, I must admit that given your reputation as Drakenhof’s idiot, I was pleasantly surprised by your decision to turn yourself into a dire wolf whenever you stole a sheep or a cow. Much better for the farmers around here to assume they have a wolf problem as opposed to a vampire stalking their land.” Walach complimented.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Harkon. You still haven’t told me why you are here. If it is something to do with Mannfred let me say right now that I have put that life behind me. I am no Count’s soldier.” Gustavus stated.

“Calm yourself. Mannfred is dead.”

Gustavus’ brow went crooked for a second as he took in that news before continuing to speak. “Well, the same applies to Vlad or Markos or whoever is in charge now. I refuse to take part in any more of their inane wars.”

“They’re all gone. You stand before the rightful Count of Sylvania. Now, won’t you invite me inside your lovely new home?” Walach asked.

“No. No I don’t think I will. I congratulate you on your new title Count. But I will not have you in my house. Please, turn away and ride back to Sylvania. Tell whoever remains at Castle Drakenhof that Gustavus von Carstein is dead for all I care. I would much rather be Gelbert.”

“A touching sentiment. If I had a beating heart perhaps I would feel moved even. But alas, I suggest you take a look at the sky.” Walach suggested as a wave of his hand caused a cloud to vanish, revealing a zombie dragon hovering high above the tree-line overlooking the cottage. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what that beast’s breath could do to your little family in the next room…what it could do to this entire village for that matter. So, won’t you invite me into your humble abode?” Walach asked again.

….

• Sad React: Gelbert continued to refuse Walach’s entry, eventually forcing the blood knight to show his hand as his dragon really did unleash its breath on the house, killing everyone but Gelbert/Gustavus inside the home within seconds. The Von Carstein vampire was forced to abandon the home and accept Walach’s challenge.

(If this option wins, the result if the second highest scoring react option will determine whether Gelbert won against Walach or was defeated.)

….

Gustavus conceded this time, allowing Walach to cross the door’s threshold. “Oh, I love what you have done with the place, it’s all so… snug. Quite the change from the derelict chambers and banquet halls of Drakenhof.” Walach remarked, looking around at the simple house layout of a small living room area around a couch, the barest essentials of a kitchen with a wooden table, a storage cupboard, a set of stairs leading up to the family’s bedrooms and Gustavus/Gelbert’s room on the ground floor next to the dining table.

“I still don’t understand why you came here. You can’t want me to take over as Count.” Gustavus stated, confused.

“Far from it. You see, when it comes to transfers of power one needs to make sure they tie up all possible loose ends. I simply cannot abide by the existence of potential heirs to my throne, just imagine the fractures that could cause. The chaos it would unleash within Sylvanian society. No, the line of succession must remain pure I am afraid.” Walach remarked. “Thus, all competitors must be disposed of… and when I am done purging your bloodline, I shall continue to do so with the others. Until none, not even my so-called Master who thinks it prudent to spend most of his time gathering dust in a box, will be able to challenge my reign. Do you understand?” Walach asked.

“So… so you came here to kill me then?” Gustavus replied, almost shaking with fear.

“Yes.”

“No. There has to be a way this can be avoided. Tell them I’m dead like I asked before… or maybe take me to Drakenhof where I will gladly give up any titles I hold. Heck, take my surname for all I care. I don’t want any of it.” Gustavus pleaded.

Walach pulled out a chair and sat down, speaking as he did so. “It’s funny really. When I rode here I wondered to myself whether you fled because you had discovered a sense of pacifism or whether it was because you were a coward. Now I know… and if you had any idea of the sacrifices your forebears made to make that surname matter, you would know better than to discard it so brazenly.”

“Vlad is not my father! He was not any of our fathers!” Gelbert spat through his whispers. “He stole us from our lives, from our real relatives, jabbed his fangs into our flesh and cursed us all to join his perverse power game. I am not a Von Carstein, my name is Gelbert. That is the name I chose, not the one he thrust on me for his villainous schemes!”

“Pathetic, truly pathetic. If Vlad had been there when I imprisoned Helmut or when I sent Elize to live all her days in the Red Abbey, I am confident in saying he would have fought to save their fates. But in your case, I wonder whether he would fight me, not to save you, but to be the one had the chance to slay you himself. As for your survival options. I only see two really. Either you surrender to me now and join my order of Blood Knights. If you are lucky after say, a thousand years of loyal service, perhaps then I will allow you to retire and play happy families again with a different family. Alternatively, you can fight me now. If you win, I will let you continue this charade undisturbed. I will tell the others that Gustavus is dead, they will not need to know of Gelbert. Of course if I win, you won’t be alive… or close thereto for it to matter at all.” Walach suggested.

“I told you before. I am no soldier.” Gelbert reiterated.

“Well then you only have one choice.”

“Alright. My armour and my sword are in my room. As a blood knight I know you won’t slay an unarmed man when a weapon is near so I hope I can trust you not to stab me in the back while I change. We will hold a simple duel in the woods, away from everyone else. Also, regardless of the outcome to this fight, you will swear not to harm these people. They are innocent and hold no place in your games of succession.” Gelbert demanded.

“Very well, I agree to your terms.” Walach concluded.

Within an hour Gelbert had dressed in his armour and was deep in the forest, ready for his duel with Walach Harkon who had just dismissed his two mounted bodyguards, telling them to return in a few minutes when the fighting was over.

The two vampires stood only a few yards from each other, Gelbert wielding a simple bastard sword whereas Walach carried the Crimson Blade, the legendary blade he used to cut down the last Grand Master of the Blood Dragons, within a single gripped hand thanks to his enhanced strength as he took a sip from his blood chalice in the other.

The two drew their blades, took on their fighting stances and the duel began.

….

• Wow React: Gelbert rushed forward with his sword, eagerly seeking a quick thrust which was quickly parried and counter-attacked by the Master of the Blood Dragon who deflected his impact and slashed at the younger Templar’s waist. Gelbert failed to counter the attack though fortunately most of the impact was protected by his gambeson rather than piercing his armour. The two regained their footing and the Blood Dragon went on the offensive this time, unleashing vast wathes of strikes in an effort to undermine Gelbert’s defences only for Gelbert to be blindsided as Walach lunged forward and stabbed him straight through his left thigh. Gelbert grasped at the gash on his leg to heal the pain but the Grand Master of the Blood Dragons only took this as an invitation to advance as he dashed forward and grabbed the wrist of Gelbert’s sword-wielding arm from closeup. Gelbert resisted Walach’s advance, attempting to bring his blade down into a cutting motion but the Grand Master of the Blood Dragons displayed no fear, instead tightening his grip harder and harder until Gelbert’s wrist finally gave way and the sword fell from his hands. From here, Walach spared no chances. Pushing Gelbert onto his back with a simple push of his palm.

“Wait!” Gelbert yelled in shock, demanding that Walach respect his order’s traditions and allow the younger vampire to reclaim his sword for another round of fighting as opposed to executing an unarmed man.

“Very well Von Carstein. I shall restrain myself…but between our sakes, let me just tell you that I can’t say the same about those wolves.” Harkon stated in a bemused manner as his eyes turned deep red. The next thing Gelbert knew, he could hear the distant barking of wolf packs closing in on him.

Gelbert attempted to rise to his feet and grab his sword only for Walach to kick him down again, keeping the Drakenhof Templar firmly down on the ground until finally, the wolf packs controlled by Harkon’s sorcery finally came into attacking distance and proceeded to tear Gelbert to shreds.

Walach Harkon left the scene of the duel to return to his guards, making sure they didn’t see what had happened today. As the Grand Master of the Blood Dragons rode back to Castle Drakenhof, he would do so content in the knowledge that the last free Von Carstein vampire in the Old World had been destroyed.

….

• Laugh React: The two vampires attacked one another and the Master of the Blood Dragons soon gained the advantage in terms of pure fighting skill as he brushed past the Drakenhof Templar’s attempts to parry and landed two solid thrusts into Gelbert’s chest armour.

Still, the younger vampire had an ace up his sleeve as he decided to take advantage of Harkon’s seemingly traditional style of fighting by playing dirty. Harkon lunged forward with his Crimson Blade to stab the Drakenhof Templar anew when suddenly, a dark cloud burst from Gelbert’s face and the younger vampire spontaneously turned into a fell bat, flying right head-on into Walach’s face and striking Harkon’s mouth and cheeks with its talons.

Walach did what he could to get the fell bat off him only for Gelbert to surprise him a second time, this time returning to his vampiric form so he could stick his fangs straight into Harkon’s throat from close up. The teeth broke through Harkon’s skin and Gelbert tensed his bite, clenching hard before suddenly pulling back, thereby tearing a large patch of skin out from Harkon’s throat. Gallons of blood the elder vampire had consumed over the centuries suddenly began gushing from Walach’s exposed cavity and the Grand Master of the Blood Dragons was forced to abandon the duel in favour of seeking necromantic attention elsewhere.

If this had been a fair fight Walach Harkon would have almost definitely won. Alas, Gelbert had no interest in waging a fair battle tonight. As the Sylvanian deserter returned to his village to clean up before the humans stirred, he was confident that Harkon would learn his lesson. The last free Von Carstein vampire in the Old World would finally have the life of peace he always wished for.

….

(Prelude to Angry and Love React)

The two vampires engaged each other in single combat where for a while the two managed to trade blows without either coming out the victor. However, this was to change when Walach suddenly darted forward and used his empowered strength to kick the younger vampire, sending him hurtling back against a tree.

Walach charged forward in an effort to finish the younger vampire off when Gelbert instead opted to disrupt his charge by picking up some soil and chucking it at Harkon’s face. As Harkon attempted to clear the dirt from his eyes Gelbert rose to his feet and ran, hoping to run back to the village where Harkon may refuse to follow as the villagers woke from their beds.

Alas, this was not to be for just as Gelbert was about to reach his village he was instead knocked down by an oncoming cavalry charge from Harkon’s two blood knight bodyguards. As Gelbert scrambled on the ground, hoping to crawl back to safety, Harkon instead caught up and planted his boot on the younger vampire’s back.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be all that surprised that you attempted to flee. Once a coward, always a coward I say. Still, if you are so desperate for this village to see you again, how about we let them decide your fate?” Harkon concluded.

And so Walach Harkon and his blood knights tied Gelbert to a tree right outside the Drauwulf family home, right where the sunlight would surely strike when day broke. With their foe defeated and his fate pending, Harkon and his warriors headed back home.

Some two hours later dawn arrived and the sun began to rise. The light started off minor – a simple irritation barely more frustrating than a simple itch. However, as time by and the sun rose higher into the sky, so too did the light’s intensity worsen. His porcelain white skin first turned pink but then went red as the burning grew worse. His head went dizzy, inducing sensory confusion in the young vampire as lost the ability to make sense of his surroundings. His skin dried out and became crusty, his vision blurred. And the hunger… oh the hunger. Never before had Gelbert known such bloodlust, his bloodlust was so fierce that he couldn’t even distinguish between men and beast anymore. Yet no matter how hard he pulled at his ropes, he could never free himself to quench it.

By the time Johann Drauwulf woke up Gelbert had descended into a feral state of desperation. It would now fall on him to decide the vampire’s fate.

….

• Angry React: As Johann looked at the monstrous vampire he formerly knew as his tennant, Johann only felt disgust for being deceived so easily. To hell with the vampire he thought as he pulled up a chair to watch the sunlight finish Gelbert/Gustavus von Carstein off. The vampire’s burning flesh stank and there were times Drauwulf could barely watch as the vampire’s rotten corpse let out all manner of noxious gasses. Yet by the time the vampire finally perished, Johann Drauwulf decided it had been a rather cathartic experience.

….

• Love React: Johann couldn’t explain it. This monster had tricked its way into his home, harboured stashed weapons and slept only a few rooms away from his wife and children. Drauwulf had no reason to feel any sympathy for Gelbert.

Yet as he watched the vampire burn under the sun’s unrelenting gaze, sympathy is what he felt. Or if not sympathy, perhaps it was mere curiosity. Either way he wanted to know why this vampire had come here, why it had never sought to do ill to his family and what strange circumstances had led to it being tied up outside his home now. And so Johann decided to spare the vampire as he grabbed a blanket and chucked it over the vampire to shield it from the sunlight. From there Johann decided to go off hunting. The vampire would need some red-blooded meat to feast on if it was ever going to restore itself to enough health that it could speak again. Yes, Johann would get his answers, even if it meant deliberately harbouring a fugitive vampire from the rest of the world.