Encounterlogs
Viktorins Odd Encounter Sr Rachel 240420
Viktorin's day begins in a rather unexpected manner when he is awoken by his phone’s glaring screen filled with rapid and urgent messages about a vampire named Victoria Moretti, who has crossed into Haven territory. Bearing the symbol of a sword crossed with a scroll, the notifications signal a call to action for Viktorin, marking the start of a solitary mission enveloped in both duty and reluctance. The messages portray Victoria as a supernaturally criminal figure, affiliated with the Mob and suspected of human trafficking. With only a dated and blurred photograph to guide him, Viktorin prepares for the journey with a mixture of weariness and resolve, arming himself with a replica M1-9 rifle, a dagger, and other essentials for the mission ahead. The task is clear: to track down Victoria who is believed to be seeking sanctuary in Haven, specifically near Willow Cove, and bring her in as per the Order's policy—alive.
Under the cover of a moody day, perfect for the vampire he is hunting, Viktorin embarks towards Willow Cove, his journey marked by a landscape that transitions from urban to the natural outskirts where the cove lies hidden. Despite the ominous weather and the readiness of an impending challenge, an observation strikes him about the inadequacy of his preparation against the weather—a forethought that could have made the venture slightly more comfortable. The mission leads him to question the possibility of locating someone as elusive as Victoria, given her apparent wealth and status that suggest a penchant for luxury rather than the simplicity of the cove’s rugged environment. Viktorin’s speculation about her unwillingness to “rough it” indicates the beginning of his deeper engagement with the assignment at hand, not just as a pursuer but as someone compelled to unravel the enigma of Victoria Moretti, setting the stage for what is likely to be a complex confrontation.
(Viktorin's odd encounter(SRRachel):SRRachel)
[Fri Apr 19 2024]
In Vik's Room
A black and white rug, made of wool greets the toes of those who enter the room, contrasting deeply with the mahogany floor boards beneath. This nook of a room seems cramped with the amount of furniture scattered everywhere. A strange quasi-murphy bed, onyx in color, settles on the floor in the northwest of the room before the window to the north. to the north east, a wardrobe and dresser combination exists, made of elm and spruce, lacquered and beheld with a pristine finish. A credenza desk sits in the southeastern corner, accompanied by an antique oil lamp that provides the room with ambient light. A bookshelf lays within the southwest of the room along with a small armchair and an end table, creating a small reading nook.
It is morning, about 56F(13C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
There's a whole lot of snoring, coming from Viktorin. He wriggles in his bed occasionally, and soon, at the top of the hpur, the Czech wakes to an alarm.
Not just an alarm, but the bright white glare of his phone screen. There are lines of text rolling upward, so fast that they're unreadable. If Viktorin pays it any heed, he'd catch, right off the bat, choice words like "vampire," "cross the border," and "in Haven territory." A conversation is being had between one or more parties, rapid-pace, and with great urgency.
The notification comes with the symbol of a sword, crossed with a scroll.
It's Viktorin's lucky day. No one else he's familiar with has responded. There's chaos run amok, and perhaps it is up to him to keep Order.
Guiltily, Viktorin watches the texts roll up and up, his lips creeping into a faint frown. A sigh passes through his lips, before he swivels out of bed, tugging on clothes, searching his phone. "Vampire," he starts, "What's all the bullshit about the vampire? He do bad things recently?" A rhetorical question that'll probably go unanswered, at least for the moment.
Not he - she. No more than a few seconds after Viktorin makes his assumption, the picture of a woman comes up. It's black-and-white, dated, with poor focus. Even so, her features are striking. She has short, dark hair, cut in a 20s bob. Her eyes are heavily lashed, her lips rouged. There's something sweet about her - maybe it's the rounded curves, and the ingenue look. Maybe it's the shy smile. Under, there's a name: Victoria Moretti.
The text comes to a halt. There's a request to bring her in. Alive (or as alive as a vampire can be), of course, per Order policy.
Doesn't seem like it'll be easy.
Her biography is sparse, but there are a few lines of note:
Birthdate: somewhere in the 1900s
Affiliation: The Mob
Suspected Crime: Human Trafficking.
She's been on the run for a long while, and at last she's come to Haven, in search of that vaunted Sanctuary.
There's a ping. The Order's best guess is that she's hiding out near Willow Cove.
"Lovely," Viktorin grunts, rubbing his eyes and pulling on his boots. Then to the wardrobe. His M1-9 rifle is grabbed. A replica of course, but it still works fine if maintained. Then his dagger, shoved into a sheath strapped to his forearm. Armor. Backpack. Sunglasses. He's out the door, past the dorms, through White Oak, and fown the street, headed to Willow's Cove. "Business is business, I suppose."
Should've brought an umbrella, too. It isn't raining just yet, but it's a lovely, moody day, with swollen clouds overhead. It's perfect for vampire-kind. The sun doesn't look like it's long for the sky.
Viktorin makes his way through the Oak, past Badwater Park, onto the bridge... as he turns toward the lighthouse, he might see strips of sand in the distance, and hear the faraway lapping of water against the banks. There's no sign of anyone just yet. No car, no belongings.
Past the sheltered entrance of the cove, it grows quiet. There are rocky outcroppings here, and sparse bushes. It's possible that the Order had it wrong -- where, exactly would a vampire hide?
It's time for Viktorin to think. She's old. Probably moneyed. Even in her photograph, she'd been wearing expensive clothing, and even more expensive jewels. On the run or no, she doesn't seem like someone who would rough it.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)
Under the cover of a moody day, perfect for the vampire he is hunting, Viktorin embarks towards Willow Cove, his journey marked by a landscape that transitions from urban to the natural outskirts where the cove lies hidden. Despite the ominous weather and the readiness of an impending challenge, an observation strikes him about the inadequacy of his preparation against the weather—a forethought that could have made the venture slightly more comfortable. The mission leads him to question the possibility of locating someone as elusive as Victoria, given her apparent wealth and status that suggest a penchant for luxury rather than the simplicity of the cove’s rugged environment. Viktorin’s speculation about her unwillingness to “rough it” indicates the beginning of his deeper engagement with the assignment at hand, not just as a pursuer but as someone compelled to unravel the enigma of Victoria Moretti, setting the stage for what is likely to be a complex confrontation.
(Viktorin's odd encounter(SRRachel):SRRachel)
[Fri Apr 19 2024]
In Vik's Room
A black and white rug, made of wool greets the toes of those who enter the room, contrasting deeply with the mahogany floor boards beneath. This nook of a room seems cramped with the amount of furniture scattered everywhere. A strange quasi-murphy bed, onyx in color, settles on the floor in the northwest of the room before the window to the north. to the north east, a wardrobe and dresser combination exists, made of elm and spruce, lacquered and beheld with a pristine finish. A credenza desk sits in the southeastern corner, accompanied by an antique oil lamp that provides the room with ambient light. A bookshelf lays within the southwest of the room along with a small armchair and an end table, creating a small reading nook.
It is morning, about 56F(13C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target and their allies are charged with tracking down a supernatural criminal on the run from the factions, what they do with them then is up to the players to decide.
)
There's a whole lot of snoring, coming from Viktorin. He wriggles in his bed occasionally, and soon, at the top of the hpur, the Czech wakes to an alarm.
Not just an alarm, but the bright white glare of his phone screen. There are lines of text rolling upward, so fast that they're unreadable. If Viktorin pays it any heed, he'd catch, right off the bat, choice words like "vampire," "cross the border," and "in Haven territory." A conversation is being had between one or more parties, rapid-pace, and with great urgency.
The notification comes with the symbol of a sword, crossed with a scroll.
It's Viktorin's lucky day. No one else he's familiar with has responded. There's chaos run amok, and perhaps it is up to him to keep Order.
Guiltily, Viktorin watches the texts roll up and up, his lips creeping into a faint frown. A sigh passes through his lips, before he swivels out of bed, tugging on clothes, searching his phone. "Vampire," he starts, "What's all the bullshit about the vampire? He do bad things recently?" A rhetorical question that'll probably go unanswered, at least for the moment.
Not he - she. No more than a few seconds after Viktorin makes his assumption, the picture of a woman comes up. It's black-and-white, dated, with poor focus. Even so, her features are striking. She has short, dark hair, cut in a 20s bob. Her eyes are heavily lashed, her lips rouged. There's something sweet about her - maybe it's the rounded curves, and the ingenue look. Maybe it's the shy smile. Under, there's a name: Victoria Moretti.
The text comes to a halt. There's a request to bring her in. Alive (or as alive as a vampire can be), of course, per Order policy.
Doesn't seem like it'll be easy.
Her biography is sparse, but there are a few lines of note:
Birthdate: somewhere in the 1900s
Affiliation: The Mob
Suspected Crime: Human Trafficking.
She's been on the run for a long while, and at last she's come to Haven, in search of that vaunted Sanctuary.
There's a ping. The Order's best guess is that she's hiding out near Willow Cove.
"Lovely," Viktorin grunts, rubbing his eyes and pulling on his boots. Then to the wardrobe. His M1-9 rifle is grabbed. A replica of course, but it still works fine if maintained. Then his dagger, shoved into a sheath strapped to his forearm. Armor. Backpack. Sunglasses. He's out the door, past the dorms, through White Oak, and fown the street, headed to Willow's Cove. "Business is business, I suppose."
Should've brought an umbrella, too. It isn't raining just yet, but it's a lovely, moody day, with swollen clouds overhead. It's perfect for vampire-kind. The sun doesn't look like it's long for the sky.
Viktorin makes his way through the Oak, past Badwater Park, onto the bridge... as he turns toward the lighthouse, he might see strips of sand in the distance, and hear the faraway lapping of water against the banks. There's no sign of anyone just yet. No car, no belongings.
Past the sheltered entrance of the cove, it grows quiet. There are rocky outcroppings here, and sparse bushes. It's possible that the Order had it wrong -- where, exactly would a vampire hide?
It's time for Viktorin to think. She's old. Probably moneyed. Even in her photograph, she'd been wearing expensive clothing, and even more expensive jewels. On the run or no, she doesn't seem like someone who would rough it.
(Your target is abducted in their sleep, waking up alone in a locked room. They need to either escape or draw attention to them so their allies can come and provide assistance.
)