The Dark Inn

The WHC: Prologue

Sunlight bled into the room from the tiny cracks in the wood wall throwing a strange luminescence about the small decrepit room. A man shifted beneath a coarse woollen cover over the straw floor. An eye slowly opened the ray of light hitting it forcing the pupil to contract. Groggily the man turned and sat up his pale skin in the rays. Where was he? His mind still numb from sleep a dull spark flashed across his mind and he remembered exactly where he was.
With haste he pulled him self up grabbing his pack and sword. Approaching the door he heard voices and stopped dead. A worrying thought raced across his mind; did they know had they found him? His outstretched hand faltered. He quickly dismissed the thoughts from his mind and carefully opened the door. Nothing save for the mixed aroma of baking bread and smoke from the smouldering lamps.

The man paced nervously to the main desk where a bearded dwarf peered up at him slowly through small crescent spectacles

"I trust you slept well?" the dwarf enquired

"Err..yes..well enough I need to reach Kaeln by midday so don't bother with the food"

The man dug deep into his pocket and produced 10 gold pieces thrusting them onto the oak desk in front of the dwarven innkeeper.

"Very well then, I shall get someone to bring your horse round"

"No...No need"

Leaving the dark inn he stretched his limbs and took a deep breath of the spring air; sweet scent of dew mingled with pollen. The trees swayed gently in the breeze as the morning sun filtered through their leaves casting dancing shadows. He felt the sun on his face and for the first time in what seemed days he felt safe. He turned to fetch his horse when something caught his eye. A unnatural shine in the foliage. He never had time to look an object cut through the air and deep into his side. Hitting the floor hard his blood chilled; no...NO! How could they of found him? Two booted feet stepped beside him, he looked up to see the clear blue eyes of his assailant clutching a fine longbow and wearing a grey robe. The man, mortally wounded managed to utter a single word through his fading lips.

"How?"

The assailant spoke with an unusual grace and clarity in an elven tongue.

"You can never hide from us"

But the man was gone, his eyes glazed and suddenly his body glowed dully and flashed leaving a fine grey dust. Akavir reached down and filled a small ornate vial with some of the dust. Grinning, he said aloud

"Another vampire falls to the abyss"