Encounterlogs
Coltons Odd Encounter Sr Neha 241128
In the dimly lit ambiance of The Alley, a familiar yet altered hangout from Colton Moore's past, his day takes an unexpected turn. Nursing a beer and battling the aftereffects of a recent power display in his territory, he receives a cryptic text from an unknown number. This message, intriguing as it is, plunges him into a peculiar situation involving vampires, a theft, and a cryptic job offer from a group with shadowy intentions. The text leads him on a quest for a supernatural artifact, stolen by an elusive vampiric figure named Elise Warren. Despite the odd and potentially dangerous nature of this mission, Colton's curiosity and sense of territorial responsibility propel him forward.
Venturing into the woods near Black Ash Lane, Colton relies on his heightened senses and local knowledge to track down Elise Warren's hideout. The trail is marked by subtle signs of passage, not quite masking the presence of someone unaccustomed to the wilderness. As he approaches a frail-looking hut, believed to be Warren's abode, Colton decides on a direct and intimidating approach. In a show of strength and in part due to his own impulsive nature, he shifts briefly into his werewolf form to send a howl echoing through the woods, hoping to confront Warren directly. This bold move, though painful and risky due to his current physical state, signifies Colton's resolve to face whatever mysteries and dangers lie ahead in his effort to retrieve the artifact and understand the true intentions behind the message that led him here.
(Colton's odd encounter(SRNeha):SRNeha)
[Wed Nov 27 2024]
At the Bar-and-Stage at The Alley
Carpeting stretches across the laminate flooring here, stained by footprints
and years of use, creating areas for lounge seating. Set up in front of a tiny
stage and a corner bar, here visitors are invited to grab a drink together, to
socialize, and perhaps even take the stage where a karaoke machine is prepared
for all those brave enough. The bar itself has seen better days, its counter a
gouged and scratched remnants of its former self, and almost all of the tables
and chairs in the room are similarly in need of either repair or replacements.
The corner bar displays a select assortment of draft beers and liquor - though
a good look behind the bar might cast the legitimacy of the liquor licenses in
doubt. Though dingy, the stools set up around this corner of the establishment
seem to be newer than any other furniture, featuring genuine ruddy-red leather
bar stools, and are actually pretty comfortable to sit on for lengthy periods.
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(A member of The Golden Shadow has contracted your target for a job. The mission is to retrieve a supernatural artifact of immense power from the crypt of an old vampire lord resting in the local cemetery. However, the crypt is protected by various traps and undead minions. It's up to them to infiltrate the crypt, retrieve the artifact, and escape alive. However, they must weigh the benefits of completing the job against the potential harm that could come from putting such powerful artifact in the hands of a mercenary group with an apocalyptic worldview.)
It's been a busy two days of Colton's return to Haven, undoubtedly full of big Moore dinners that threaten food comas and patented wolfish group hugs and catching up with everything that's the same and everything that's entirely different from when he was last here. The Alley is likely a blend of both: old, familiar shapes warped by time and the passing of the establishment from owner to owner, like viewing it through a looking glass from the time he'd been here so many years ago.
Where Colton's busy checking out what the Alley has for sale and looking over their assortment of drinks ranging from cheap to cheaper, his phone buzzes with the incoming text from an unfamiliar number. The 710- code is definitely from Haven, but it's nobody he likely recognizes.
'Colton Moore?' the text reads out. 'I have something you'll be interested in.'
Nursing a bottle of imported British pale ale without really bothering to taste it, Colton reaches up to rub tiredly at the circles under his eyes. He'd made sure to push his shifting for his re-entry to Haven - he wanted to mark his territory out with a little power behind it. It had been worth it, but the strain had him in a bit of a foggy hangover, and the low-strength beer could only relieve him through placebo, not actually deal with the backlash on his internal organs. He'd be fine, of course. He could recover from anything. It just wasn't a pleasant convalescence.
He chews on his lip a little as he slides his cracked phone out and muses on his answer. He strongly considers sending a dick pic in response to the unsolicited solicitation, but on the other hand, he didn't want his dick plastered around town on day one just for a quick laugh. Instead, he responds, 'Are you looking for extra credit? White Oak's sports program is quite generous. Join the fight for your health.'
The answer to his message takes a short minute, as though the person on the other end has to pause and think it over for a moment. Clearly, whatever answer they had expected, it wasn't that. Regardless, they press on despite that Colton hasn't actually given any confirmation to his identity. Perhaps they're dumb. Perhaps they're just that confident in the information that was provided to them.
'No, thank you,' comes the answer. 'We thought you might be interested in learning about Vampires in your territory, Mister Moore. A favor for a favor? One of them has stolen something from us, and we would quite like it back' - whoever the ominous 'us' might be goes unsaid.
At least they're not reaching out about his car's extended warranty. Good thing he doesn't have one.
That's not all, it would seem. The person on the other end doesn't give Colton too much time to think it over - they seem to consider it a deal as good as done, because the information keeps coming in. Colton would be free to just call it a day and go take a midday nap instead, and that's just a risk they're willing to take. He gets a file, straight from the archives of whatever group the mysterious figure texting him belongs to. It's been censored to remove all the classified stuff, of course, but the main points are as follows:
Elise Warren, age unknown, thought to be at least 150. Known exsanguinating Vampire, and a relatively new arrival in town - perhaps running from something, or someone? Current residence is /somewhere/ in the northern forest near Black Ash Lane, perhaps in an off-grid property, and to top it all off, she's known to be an arcanist of some sort. What sort of arcanist she is isn't mentioned. The thing that has been stolen is a golden idol, entirely solid gold, in the shape of a globe, presumed to be upon her person.
Why they don't go get it themselves is unsaid. Why they want Colton, specifically, for it is also unsaid, but there's always an agenda when it comes to mysterious societies lurking in the underbelly of Haven. If Colton's going to do this, now may be the best time for it, with noon rapidly approaching and the sun as high in the sky as it's going to get, even if it's quite a stormy day, winter right on the horizon.
Wondering how whoever-this-is knew about him in the first place, Colton lets out a little sigh and pockets his shitty old phone as he downs the rest of the ale in one go, tossing the bottle with unerring aim across the room to land in the bin. Perhaps he even earns some applause. Nevermind that the trajectory of the tossed beverage curved midair to reach its destination; clearly he'd thrown it in an arc to begin with. They should see him throw a ball. He trudges his way out of the Alley and breaks into a loping run, cutting through the glass-and-trash strewn Devilwood sidewalks to make short time in crossing over to Elm Street, and then really picking up the pace once he's in the woods proper. He didn't even mind the vampire problem so much. If they'd been festering in Westhaven, that'd be another thing entirely, but northside's where he'd normally have chased them in that scenario. It's mostly curiosity that's got him going now. He just has to spot some trail or another - god knows vampires stunk in person, but they didn't leave much of an odour behind themselves to follow.
There's really not a lot of people around to applaud Colton's superb throwing skills, but had he done that in front of an evening crowd instead of a sparse 11 AM gathering, it would surely have caught attention. The good sort. Some applause too, for sure. For now, he's just going to look like a regular, Just-A-Guy out on a run along Devilwood and onto Elm and then Elm's Bane, thinking to himself about the certainly-odd situation that stinks of weirdness.
'Somewhere near Black Ash Lane' is actually a lot of ground to cover, it turns out. There's a few odd buildings here and there, some smelling lived in and some less so, but nothing that would give any signs of the arcane or the undead. The closer he gets to the gate leading into Hell though, the more obvious it is that /someone/ has been wandering around lately, his perception picking up on the occasional snapped twig or disturbed bush of someone who definitely isn't used to wild living. It's an easy trail to follow.
Well, besides having sharpened senses, Colton did have a bit of an advantage - he'd been running up and down Black Ash all night, trying to locate the gate with his compass. He'd been on the wrong stretch of the road, wasting a bunch of time, but he did have a thorough sense out of what, exactly was out of place. Poor vampire'd picked the wrong spot to try and do weird magic shit. He growls, despite himself. Vampires doing magic. That was just wrong on top of wrong. Maybe he'd beat them up just for its own sake. He follows the trail.
Okay, well, maybe he should hold his horses there. There's no /active/ weird magic shit going on. For all he knows, they could've just been out on a walk, and wandered off-road and managed to snag their clothes onto all the bushes and stepped on all the twigs.
Or maybe it's all part of an elaborate magic ritual.
Whatever the case may be, the trail leads Colton deeper into the woods and within sight of a small hut, looking like it's one huff and puff away from being blown away. There's no activity visible inside it, and certainly no heartbeat to be heard.
Colton's not really a hold-his-horses kind of guy. Just thinking about some bloodsucker stinking up the woods with their magic was annoying enough. He digs his phone out of his pocket to snap a picture of the little hut, then shrugs off his jacket and pulls his tanktop up over his shoulders. He couldn't do a proper howl without shifting, but he wanted the vampire spooked, so a quick shift would be the price of it. No big deal, even with his hangover. He'd never been the lucky type of werewolf who had easy transformations, though. His bones snap, crackle and pop as they shift out of place and fur begins to sprout out of unmentionable places (his ears) before he belts out a lupine call, sure to spook whoever was inside better than a simple knock at the door, and he begins changing back before his jeans can tear apart. Pop, crackle and snap go his vertebra, and save for a moment of eyewatering pain as two vertebra slam back into position and catch his sciatic nerve in the middle of the action, he's back to human with no muss and no fuss.
No, who's he kidding, speed-shifting like that fucking sucked. Good practice, though.
"Get out here," he barks.
Venturing into the woods near Black Ash Lane, Colton relies on his heightened senses and local knowledge to track down Elise Warren's hideout. The trail is marked by subtle signs of passage, not quite masking the presence of someone unaccustomed to the wilderness. As he approaches a frail-looking hut, believed to be Warren's abode, Colton decides on a direct and intimidating approach. In a show of strength and in part due to his own impulsive nature, he shifts briefly into his werewolf form to send a howl echoing through the woods, hoping to confront Warren directly. This bold move, though painful and risky due to his current physical state, signifies Colton's resolve to face whatever mysteries and dangers lie ahead in his effort to retrieve the artifact and understand the true intentions behind the message that led him here.
(Colton's odd encounter(SRNeha):SRNeha)
[Wed Nov 27 2024]
At the Bar-and-Stage at The Alley
Carpeting stretches across the laminate flooring here, stained by footprints
and years of use, creating areas for lounge seating. Set up in front of a tiny
stage and a corner bar, here visitors are invited to grab a drink together, to
socialize, and perhaps even take the stage where a karaoke machine is prepared
for all those brave enough. The bar itself has seen better days, its counter a
gouged and scratched remnants of its former self, and almost all of the tables
and chairs in the room are similarly in need of either repair or replacements.
The corner bar displays a select assortment of draft beers and liquor - though
a good look behind the bar might cast the legitimacy of the liquor licenses in
doubt. Though dingy, the stools set up around this corner of the establishment
seem to be newer than any other furniture, featuring genuine ruddy-red leather
bar stools, and are actually pretty comfortable to sit on for lengthy periods.
It is morning, about 36F(2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(A member of The Golden Shadow has contracted your target for a job. The mission is to retrieve a supernatural artifact of immense power from the crypt of an old vampire lord resting in the local cemetery. However, the crypt is protected by various traps and undead minions. It's up to them to infiltrate the crypt, retrieve the artifact, and escape alive. However, they must weigh the benefits of completing the job against the potential harm that could come from putting such powerful artifact in the hands of a mercenary group with an apocalyptic worldview.)
It's been a busy two days of Colton's return to Haven, undoubtedly full of big Moore dinners that threaten food comas and patented wolfish group hugs and catching up with everything that's the same and everything that's entirely different from when he was last here. The Alley is likely a blend of both: old, familiar shapes warped by time and the passing of the establishment from owner to owner, like viewing it through a looking glass from the time he'd been here so many years ago.
Where Colton's busy checking out what the Alley has for sale and looking over their assortment of drinks ranging from cheap to cheaper, his phone buzzes with the incoming text from an unfamiliar number. The 710- code is definitely from Haven, but it's nobody he likely recognizes.
'Colton Moore?' the text reads out. 'I have something you'll be interested in.'
Nursing a bottle of imported British pale ale without really bothering to taste it, Colton reaches up to rub tiredly at the circles under his eyes. He'd made sure to push his shifting for his re-entry to Haven - he wanted to mark his territory out with a little power behind it. It had been worth it, but the strain had him in a bit of a foggy hangover, and the low-strength beer could only relieve him through placebo, not actually deal with the backlash on his internal organs. He'd be fine, of course. He could recover from anything. It just wasn't a pleasant convalescence.
He chews on his lip a little as he slides his cracked phone out and muses on his answer. He strongly considers sending a dick pic in response to the unsolicited solicitation, but on the other hand, he didn't want his dick plastered around town on day one just for a quick laugh. Instead, he responds, 'Are you looking for extra credit? White Oak's sports program is quite generous. Join the fight for your health.'
The answer to his message takes a short minute, as though the person on the other end has to pause and think it over for a moment. Clearly, whatever answer they had expected, it wasn't that. Regardless, they press on despite that Colton hasn't actually given any confirmation to his identity. Perhaps they're dumb. Perhaps they're just that confident in the information that was provided to them.
'No, thank you,' comes the answer. 'We thought you might be interested in learning about Vampires in your territory, Mister Moore. A favor for a favor? One of them has stolen something from us, and we would quite like it back' - whoever the ominous 'us' might be goes unsaid.
At least they're not reaching out about his car's extended warranty. Good thing he doesn't have one.
That's not all, it would seem. The person on the other end doesn't give Colton too much time to think it over - they seem to consider it a deal as good as done, because the information keeps coming in. Colton would be free to just call it a day and go take a midday nap instead, and that's just a risk they're willing to take. He gets a file, straight from the archives of whatever group the mysterious figure texting him belongs to. It's been censored to remove all the classified stuff, of course, but the main points are as follows:
Elise Warren, age unknown, thought to be at least 150. Known exsanguinating Vampire, and a relatively new arrival in town - perhaps running from something, or someone? Current residence is /somewhere/ in the northern forest near Black Ash Lane, perhaps in an off-grid property, and to top it all off, she's known to be an arcanist of some sort. What sort of arcanist she is isn't mentioned. The thing that has been stolen is a golden idol, entirely solid gold, in the shape of a globe, presumed to be upon her person.
Why they don't go get it themselves is unsaid. Why they want Colton, specifically, for it is also unsaid, but there's always an agenda when it comes to mysterious societies lurking in the underbelly of Haven. If Colton's going to do this, now may be the best time for it, with noon rapidly approaching and the sun as high in the sky as it's going to get, even if it's quite a stormy day, winter right on the horizon.
Wondering how whoever-this-is knew about him in the first place, Colton lets out a little sigh and pockets his shitty old phone as he downs the rest of the ale in one go, tossing the bottle with unerring aim across the room to land in the bin. Perhaps he even earns some applause. Nevermind that the trajectory of the tossed beverage curved midair to reach its destination; clearly he'd thrown it in an arc to begin with. They should see him throw a ball. He trudges his way out of the Alley and breaks into a loping run, cutting through the glass-and-trash strewn Devilwood sidewalks to make short time in crossing over to Elm Street, and then really picking up the pace once he's in the woods proper. He didn't even mind the vampire problem so much. If they'd been festering in Westhaven, that'd be another thing entirely, but northside's where he'd normally have chased them in that scenario. It's mostly curiosity that's got him going now. He just has to spot some trail or another - god knows vampires stunk in person, but they didn't leave much of an odour behind themselves to follow.
There's really not a lot of people around to applaud Colton's superb throwing skills, but had he done that in front of an evening crowd instead of a sparse 11 AM gathering, it would surely have caught attention. The good sort. Some applause too, for sure. For now, he's just going to look like a regular, Just-A-Guy out on a run along Devilwood and onto Elm and then Elm's Bane, thinking to himself about the certainly-odd situation that stinks of weirdness.
'Somewhere near Black Ash Lane' is actually a lot of ground to cover, it turns out. There's a few odd buildings here and there, some smelling lived in and some less so, but nothing that would give any signs of the arcane or the undead. The closer he gets to the gate leading into Hell though, the more obvious it is that /someone/ has been wandering around lately, his perception picking up on the occasional snapped twig or disturbed bush of someone who definitely isn't used to wild living. It's an easy trail to follow.
Well, besides having sharpened senses, Colton did have a bit of an advantage - he'd been running up and down Black Ash all night, trying to locate the gate with his compass. He'd been on the wrong stretch of the road, wasting a bunch of time, but he did have a thorough sense out of what, exactly was out of place. Poor vampire'd picked the wrong spot to try and do weird magic shit. He growls, despite himself. Vampires doing magic. That was just wrong on top of wrong. Maybe he'd beat them up just for its own sake. He follows the trail.
Okay, well, maybe he should hold his horses there. There's no /active/ weird magic shit going on. For all he knows, they could've just been out on a walk, and wandered off-road and managed to snag their clothes onto all the bushes and stepped on all the twigs.
Or maybe it's all part of an elaborate magic ritual.
Whatever the case may be, the trail leads Colton deeper into the woods and within sight of a small hut, looking like it's one huff and puff away from being blown away. There's no activity visible inside it, and certainly no heartbeat to be heard.
Colton's not really a hold-his-horses kind of guy. Just thinking about some bloodsucker stinking up the woods with their magic was annoying enough. He digs his phone out of his pocket to snap a picture of the little hut, then shrugs off his jacket and pulls his tanktop up over his shoulders. He couldn't do a proper howl without shifting, but he wanted the vampire spooked, so a quick shift would be the price of it. No big deal, even with his hangover. He'd never been the lucky type of werewolf who had easy transformations, though. His bones snap, crackle and pop as they shift out of place and fur begins to sprout out of unmentionable places (his ears) before he belts out a lupine call, sure to spook whoever was inside better than a simple knock at the door, and he begins changing back before his jeans can tear apart. Pop, crackle and snap go his vertebra, and save for a moment of eyewatering pain as two vertebra slam back into position and catch his sciatic nerve in the middle of the action, he's back to human with no muss and no fuss.
No, who's he kidding, speed-shifting like that fucking sucked. Good practice, though.
"Get out here," he barks.