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[Wolfthistle]

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A pale-skinned elf in dark armor and a bright blue surcoat, with a wicked looking heavy crossbow dismounts in front of the Crossroads Tavern. He puts his bow in his bag and then walks into the tavern and looks around. A bard is standing at one side of the tavern playing a lute, and bar maids bustle to and from the busy tables serving food and drinks. He walks up to the bar and sits down.

"Excuse me, you there - get me a shot of something strong," the elf says to the man behind the bar.

The bartender scowls at the elf and puts a goblet on the bar in front of him and picks out a black bottle from the shelf behind him. He pours an amber liquid into goblet and hands it to the elf. "That'll be 2 gold pieces," the bartender says.

Wordlessly, the elf hands over the money. He raises the goblet to his mouth and begins to take a drink, starts to choke, and then with tears streaming down his face swallows the fiery liquid down. "Very good," the elf manages to croak.

The bartender smirks at him and moves on to serve other customers. A dark haired man in red velvet robes looks up from the bar and laughs, "He gave you the good stuff did he?" the man asks.

"Aye," the elf managed to choke back, "I think he did."

The man laughs again. "He does that sometimes, puts people in their place real good it does." The man looks at the elf and in a conversational tone says, "I'm Lord Tim - I'm the magistrate in charge of the town guard."

The elf looks at the man speculatively and then says, "My name is Wolfthistle. Its good to meet you."

Tim looks at the elf and says arrogantly, "Wolfthistle, eh? I've never heard of you. You mustn't be from around these parts."

"No," said the elf, "I'm new to this part of Sosaria."

Tim gets a wicked smile on his face and says, "Well, you know, newcomers can be blamed for all manner of mischief from stealing sheep right down to assaulting a noble." Tim notes the stony look on Wolfthistle's face and waves a gloved hand, to which 2 armed men move a little closer. "Why don't you buy me a drink and tell me about yourself and then we can talk about your, umm, donation to the town guard."

Wolfthistle's eyes narrow as he thinks on what to say. Seeing the hesitation Tim's gaze turns to a glare, "Don't think of lying to me either, or I'll have a noose around your neck faster than you can blink." The two guardsman loosen their broadswords in their scabbards and move a little closer.

Wolfthistle thinks on it for a few seconds and then decides he doesn't have anything to lose by telling the truth. "Well," he says, "to be honest I am the Lord of the House of Wolfthistle. We're a clan of Psychic Vampires."

Tim looks at the elf and smirks, "Looks like you've been into the strong stuff for a while already, but for the sake of entertainment, I'll humor you. Tell me more."

Wofthistle looks up at the man and with fire in his eyes says "I've told you what you wanted to know. I see no reason to tell you anything else."

The lordling smirked again, "I can think of a good reason," he said, "if I don't find you entertaining, I'll have you killed on the spot."

Wolfthistle looked around. The rest of the clientele seemed to be studiously ignoring him and the guards. Seeing no help in the foreseeable future, he gestured to the bartender to get Lord Tim a drink and then composed himself to speak.

"Well, it started many years ago. For reasons that I will not discuss with you now, a great necromancer put a curse upon my beloved wife, Ferocia. I will not go into details on the effects, but to say she acted as if possessed - complaining of voices in her head and often flying into fits of rage. And her skin turned pale and sickly." Wolfthistle looked up as the drinks came, and paid the bartender. Some people had started to gather around as he spoke and were listening in.

"I was a young samurai and I knew little of curses. In desperation, I traveled to Luna," Wolfthistle continued, "where I sought counsel from a Holy Mage. He told me of an artifact, called the Fang of Tal Shai. There was little information on the Fang in their archives, but it was said to be a holy artifact - and one that he thought would remove the curse on my beloved Ferocia." Wolfthistle paused to take a drink, and then remembering what had happened last time, he thought better of it and continued with his story.

"The Holy Mage summoned a man, clad in silvery armor and introduced him to me as Sir John. He was resplendent in his armor and there was a sort of deadly grace to him. I was to find out that he was a Legendary Paladin. The Holy Mage ordered Sir John to accompany me in my search for the Fang of Tal Shai," said Wolfthistle. Then stopping his story he looked up and saw a great crowd of people had gathered. He went on, "The story of that journey is one best left for another time. Suffice it to say that we journeyed for many months, and survived many dangers - and in the end I claimed the Fang of Tal Shai as my own. I wanted to go home and use the artifact to cure my beloved. Sir John, however, wished me to bring the artifact to the Holy City to be studied before any action was taken. I refused him, and he cursed me for a fool and we parted ways. I wish now, that I had heeded him." At that Wolfthistle gave a heavy sigh and bowed his head for a moment. When he looked up he saw that he had the rapt attention of all present.

"I returned home as quickly as I was able, and upon arriving I was informed that Ferocia had fallen into a deep sleep - in fact she had not been awake for nearly a fortnight. I went to see her in her chambers and I was afraid I was too late, as I could not see her breathing. But then it was there, very faintly her chest moved and she took a breath. I walked up and put a hand on her forehead. It was cold and clammy to touch, and her skin was very pale. In fact, in comparison to my own it looked almost white," Wolfthistle's voice dropped down to a painful whisper. "I didn't really know what to do with the artifact, but in my desperation I had thought I would figure it out - anything to save my beloved. What a fool I was. I removed the Fang of Tal Shai from my bag and, taking a deep breath, pressed the point to Ferocia's chest. Darkness began to congeal to the Fang at once, like a whirlwind it was, whipping around the point. And then, for one moment it stopped, and Ferocia's skin regained its color - and for that one moment, I felt joy. Then the darkness started to whirl around the Fang, moving closer to where my hands gripped it - and I was unable to let go. And then the darkness was within me." Wolfthistle stopped to compose himself, for a few moments, unable to continue as tears slipped down his cheeks.

When he had stopped weeping he looked up, "The literature at the Holy City was incorrect. The Fang of Tal Shai did not behave as it was thought to. Although my beloved was cured, the curse was passed on to me - the effect of the Fang on the curse was to give me control of the curse. I became a vampire. I could sense emotions in others - in fact, that is how we feed - off of the negative emotions of our enemies. For, although I was a vampire, I had never been bitten and, therefore, I have never had the blood lust that is common in other vampires. For many years I worked to learn about the artifact, and I found that I could remove the blood lust from others. At first it was only the recently bitten, but as I gained mastery over the Fang I was able to remove the blood lust from any who were willing. Slowly, my clan grew as others sought me out. That is now our purpose. We specialize in removing the blood lust from vampires, and our goal is to remove the threat of the bloodsucker from these lands."

Wolfthistle looked over at Lord Tim, who looked very uncertain of himself. Then, as he realized that his discomfort was visible he covered it up with a fake laugh. "Thats quite the story," Lord Tim said. "Highly entertaining," he said boisterously, to cover his uncertainty, aware of the crowd of onlookers watching him. "I guess that you have entertained me well enough to let you go. No, umm, donation necessary."


Wolfthistle watched him coldly and rose to his feet. "I will go now," he said, "however, know that neither I, nor my clan, will forget you." Wolfthistle smiled as the lordling's face went pale. Then he turned and walked out of the tavern, mounted up and set off towards his new manor house.