A Revenant Contract

Passing the snow peaked mountains of the Earthfang, the hunter tracks its prey. A husk of a man known as Vlatko trudges through the packed ice with an endless drive. He needs no sleep nor food; only the bounty matters.

Kids have been going missing. Search parties have tried to find them to no avail. Many of which, dying. With Dasovania’s reliance on the export of minerals, the call was sent out.

Landing in the small town of Bastru, the orange hue of dusk contrasts off blue stained ridges that surround. Vlatko first heads towards the guard post. The guard outside lazily looks up, suddenly alert, his hand on his hilt as the ghoulish silhouette came into view. With a scarred hand Vlatko reaches into his weathered jacket, swords release from scabbards; clasped in his hand a small medallion engraved with the Vun’reichken hunters mark. Sweat beads down the guard’s face as tensions lower.

“A crow was sent…. I’ve answered” droned Vlatko,

“Must be serious”, as the older guardsman stands “To send you”.

The lifeless eyes meet the guard, neck twitching. “Show Me”. They lead him to a small two storied building, the bottom a general store with the top being the home. Out the back a staircase leads to the upstairs dwelling. On the way up, Vlatko notices deep scratch marks on the balustrades, and the door off kilter with its frame. The older guard lightly knocks and moments later a ragged woman answers,

“Amil, have you news of my boy?” she asks shakily,

“No, sorry, but help has arrived” Amil says calmly.

They enter with Vlatko having to dip under the door frame. “Drink gentlemen?” Avoiding Vlatko directly. Like a snake he moves into her vision, staring into her. He can hear her stuttered breath and a quickening heartbeat.

“No time….tell…..tale” he strained.

Slinking backwards, the guards’ hands relax, the lady finally breathes. Slowly she explains that her child was taken two days ago. It was just after supper, he was outside gathering wood for the fire; as he came back in, the door smashed open with a gruesomely long arm protruding, snatching the child into the night. Vlatko seemingly disappointed in the story left.

Kneeling to view the marks on the stairs, not much could be deduced from them alone, but he saw some mucus covered hair between a few scratches. Reaching into his coat, Vlatko grabs a small vial - within is a blue, bubbling liquid and a pair of sharp teeth - moving the vial close to the hair, the teeth slightly vibrate near it. Looking back up at the men he murmurs “Groreichken”. The two guards look worriedly at each other “What kind?” “Unknown…..Babă likely” breathed Vlatko looking past them at the woman crying.

Look at her, she could be my target in the future, not for awhile at least, she shows no early signs. This is definitely a Babă, what kind is what eludes me. From the mucus it’s young, mutating, the most dangerous time. All that raw power in a fractured mind. The advantage is they’ll be living close by. But I can’t rush into this, even if the child could be alive. The guards are not prepared for this at all, better let them deal with the human problems. I’ll keep them out of this, for their safety.

“Vlatko? Is there anything we can do to help?” asked the guards,

he shakes his head “I….. Got it”.

As the night comes forth, a snow storm brews. Wild winds cloud the streets in snow; the people rush to their homes with only the faint glow of the warm fires within guiding them. As if nothing was happening, Vlatko almost serenely moves through the street, always thinking, never stopping. This storm has put a timer on; A perfect cover for a Babă to move to a new coven. Once reaching the guard post, Vlatko turns to the out of breath guards, “Death….. Ledgers… NOW!” he screeched. The young one makes his way to the priest Virmon’s home. After some time, he returns holding a large, worn tome. Vlatko rips it from him, opening it to the latest pages. Most are mining accidents and few non accounted for. Among them one stands out; a teacher who disappeared. Vlatko points to the name looking at the guards.

“Loreley? She went missing over a month ago”,

“HOW!” cried Vlatko, slamming the book.

“Not sure, I know she was distraught after her class was killed in the mines”.

Eyes darting around, “Map….now”, moving to the large table. On the crude map, to the north-west of Bastru is an old logging cabin that has been abandoned for years due to the treacherous terrain. As the quick realization hits, a patrolling guard rushes in. A large fire and smoke trail has been spotted to the north-west. Vlatko tightens his coat straps and sprints out into the woods at an unnatural pace.

I wish I could feel the cold one more time, eat a hot meal or get drunk on cheap ale. I awoke to a mobile prison, stuck in thoughts with only a rotten tongue to express. But, I can feel the wind on my face, running past branch after branch at pace only a Rostenclad race horse could match. My eyes focus far ahead, reading the environment like a bird of prey. The hunt, the bounty, the kill is my only purpose now.

As quickly as he left, the light from the cabin comes into view. The splintered, wicker fence frames a winding stone path to the decrepit abode. The chimney bellows and soot stains the snow. Vlatko slows down, scanning the clearing for the Babă. Out of his coat he prepares a hammer and spikes where he can easily grab them, unsheathes his Krivreich dagger - a single edged blade with a pronounced point - and warily moves towards the entrance. Around him, faint cackling could be heard; with no clear direction, Vlatko pulls out the vial, trying to get a bearing. To his right it begins to slightly vibrate. Silence blankets the area, almost as if time stops. With a loud crack a boil covered arm strikes Vlatko, sending him flying into the fence. In a daze he quickly gets to his feet; from behind it attacks. A quick side step using the daggers pointed hook, it grabs into the Babă’s flesh.

Screaming it lurches into the light. Standing well over Vlatko even with its hunched posture. The skin covered in sores and boils; her legs curved backwards like an animal. It’s eyes a fluorescent yellow and a sickly grin with half rotten teeth. Differently though surrounding the Babă were small shadows hiding in her ragged clothes.

One of these appears behind Vlatko, and in a split second the Babă forms from it grabbing his left arm with a sizzling bite. It’s grip melts through his coat and begins burning him. Pushing off the beast’s chest and with an incision along the wrist, he rips the hand off, throwing it aside. “Where’s….. Children” yelled Vlatko, The Babă cocked its head, with a grin she presents with open arms as the shadows move forward, “I found them” it crowed. With anger Vlatko charges, the Babă not expecting his speed gains him the advantage. The shadows slowing him a little; a claw comes slashing into view. Rolling under it, he strikes the legs forcing it to the ground. Quickly he seizes the hammer from his belt and inserts the spikes into the Babă, pinning it down. While writhing in pain he stabs it, once in the head and twice in the chest. Breathlessly, stepping off the beast, he knows he doesn’t have long before it starts regrowing. He must find it’s phylactery, its last link to its human life. Finding nothing on its body he runs into the cabin.

The cabin’s interior was just as broken as the outside. Snow pouring in from a hole in the roof and a fire at the end violently roars, beginning to catch the cabin alight. Quickly Vlatko starts tearing up the place, searching through the rag pile that was probably its bed and shelves full of herbal ingredients - looking for any crumb of the Babăs previous life. Moments later with a thunderous crash, a mass falls through the roof, the sound of cracking bones alerting Vlatko to the returning danger. Where it landed seemed to have been a desk hidden by the snow; papers exploding everywhere, feeding the fire. Going in for a strike, he is swiftly slammed by an arm into the far wall, splitting the wall panels. Scrambling to his feet, knowing he is now on the back foot he tries dodging, but gets pinned to the ground with a crunch.

Everything slows down, the fire reminding him of a faint memory from long ago, only that it was a happy one. His head held down staring at the monster, it’s scared, it knows he is close. Using all it’s strength to keep Vlatko away from it. Under the Babăs ragged cloth lay a small leather book, completely pristine and tucked halfway into the snow. Vlatko hearing a faint muffling of voices, help us, save us. In a blur, Vlatko dislocating his arm slipping through its grip. Breaks his leg pushing off the wall with all his might, he launches at the Babă, slamming it hard into the fireplace. Grabbing the book while it shrieks in the growing blaze, a few pages fall out, all of them children’s drawings. They catch alight and the shrieks turn into howls of pain. This is its phylactery. Quickly dipping his dagger into its scabbard to add flesh oil to his blade that also contained silver dust - he repeatedly stabs the book. Blackish, green blood pours from the gashes. The Babă dying within the flames. In haste he pulls the body out, cutting its head off. Limping out, he falls into the snow.

Allowing his body to recover, the voice returns “help us, save us….PA!”.

“Who are you?” Vlatko contemplates.