16th Century, the time of Henry the VIII, with on going wars with France and expansion of the Empire continuing times are prosperous.
No just Prosper for James Drayton, this wife Jane recently lost her life to an illness not even the finest doctors could cure. Selling all of his Estate and Equity in London he moves him self to the country side, the county of Staffordshire. A rural area, not many people, no distractions, just peace and time to morn the passing of his wife.
Morning should take but only a few months, but for James many years have passed and still the realisation of his wifeâs departure from the living world has not settled well. Locked away in his manor house he is all but isolated from the world. All but a few servants tend to him, he has cast the living away, diminished his social standing in pursuit of his works.
Admirable that a man would throw his life to his work but James is no normal man, his work is not that of an ordinary states person. He toils day and night reading and writing collecting information. Myths and rumours are all they are to most, but to James they are his work. Not a scholar not an astrologist, but a broken man, a man determined to find one thing. The secret of resurrection, with this secret endorsed his wife Jane will return to him, the times of happiness and blissfulness will return, dreams of producing a son with the woman he loved could become a reality. The chance to lead a normal and full life.
Most call him a fool, the dead are dead and they be in heaven or hell, there is no middle ground. Should she be in hell the devil wonât release her. Should she be in heaven she will not want to return to this world, gods side is the ultimate destination of all Christians. James religion is now forfeit, delving into the Dark Arts and Necromancy, all the devils arts not for mortals to try and understand.
All his attempts have failed until one day news came a phenomenon, the dead have risen. Newstead Abby located in the next county over. The dead had been reported walking the earth risen from their graves, exacting murders and revenge on the living.
The dead walk at night hunting down those that have wronged them and killing them in violent revenge. Normally things would be passed off as common murder, but when the victims have been drained of their blood old foke tales being to remerge, talk of vampires, the walking dead, hunters of the night, the undying ones.
âEverything dies, every thing has an end, these creatures are not undying, and they know the secrets to life and with it resurrection.â The sinister toiling of James Drayton perhaps have some truth now, as he departs for the adjoining county to join vampire and witch hunters alike in driving out the undead. Through capture of one of these creatures is the goal, only that which is alive is useful, well alive as dead can be.
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Autumn and the leave fall from the trees, Arriving in Nottinghamshire James proceeds to follow the mindless rabble he met the pervious night in a tavern, they reckon the vampire is in the forest, seeking to capitalise on the dense trees and un mapped landscape until itâs trail goes cold. âThese men smell of nothing more than ale and swine, any vampire will smell them coming before they even get close.â
Setting out with the men into the forest they travel deeper, some early morning drinking has slowed the group and the mid day sun is now setting, the hour of 1 is vastly diminishing and with it the light. Warnings of being out after dark have been reported, the most frequent time for vampire attacks. Fitter than the rest of the men and a damn site more sober James sets off alone leaving the group behind, from home he brought a few little tools that should help him capture a vampire.
The autumn wind is cold and the crunch of the leaves can be herd as Jamesâs boots crush the leaves under foot as he hastily looks for any signs of a vampire. A good hour of running and he has all but lost the group, no matter to him the frequent movement has quelled the cold and a clearing comes into view. Walking briskly into the clearing it opens up, a few fallen tress, scattered rocks and falling yellow and brown leaves grace the floor. At first glance nothing of note, upon further investigation there is someone slumped to the floor. âA victim of the vampire!â Rings in Jamesâs mind, sliding his hand into his pocket his retrieves a bottle of Holy water kindly provided by a local priest in exchange for a âdonationâ to the church.
Moving closer James strides with confidents. His black boots shinning well under the bleak autumn sun light, well maintained trousers matching that of his jacket show he is a man of importance, or so he would lead people to belive. His dress sense is indicative of the time, and his whole outfit is topped off with a large heavy brown coat, dressing him from head to toe in warmth. Though after his brief exercise itâs become a little uncomfortable.
Calling out to the collapsed person he will try and rouse them from a distance, getting mugged in the middle of no where would not do him and good.
âYou there on your feet. Stand and address me.â
No just Prosper for James Drayton, this wife Jane recently lost her life to an illness not even the finest doctors could cure. Selling all of his Estate and Equity in London he moves him self to the country side, the county of Staffordshire. A rural area, not many people, no distractions, just peace and time to morn the passing of his wife.
Morning should take but only a few months, but for James many years have passed and still the realisation of his wifeâs departure from the living world has not settled well. Locked away in his manor house he is all but isolated from the world. All but a few servants tend to him, he has cast the living away, diminished his social standing in pursuit of his works.
Admirable that a man would throw his life to his work but James is no normal man, his work is not that of an ordinary states person. He toils day and night reading and writing collecting information. Myths and rumours are all they are to most, but to James they are his work. Not a scholar not an astrologist, but a broken man, a man determined to find one thing. The secret of resurrection, with this secret endorsed his wife Jane will return to him, the times of happiness and blissfulness will return, dreams of producing a son with the woman he loved could become a reality. The chance to lead a normal and full life.
Most call him a fool, the dead are dead and they be in heaven or hell, there is no middle ground. Should she be in hell the devil wonât release her. Should she be in heaven she will not want to return to this world, gods side is the ultimate destination of all Christians. James religion is now forfeit, delving into the Dark Arts and Necromancy, all the devils arts not for mortals to try and understand.
All his attempts have failed until one day news came a phenomenon, the dead have risen. Newstead Abby located in the next county over. The dead had been reported walking the earth risen from their graves, exacting murders and revenge on the living.
The dead walk at night hunting down those that have wronged them and killing them in violent revenge. Normally things would be passed off as common murder, but when the victims have been drained of their blood old foke tales being to remerge, talk of vampires, the walking dead, hunters of the night, the undying ones.
âEverything dies, every thing has an end, these creatures are not undying, and they know the secrets to life and with it resurrection.â The sinister toiling of James Drayton perhaps have some truth now, as he departs for the adjoining county to join vampire and witch hunters alike in driving out the undead. Through capture of one of these creatures is the goal, only that which is alive is useful, well alive as dead can be.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Autumn and the leave fall from the trees, Arriving in Nottinghamshire James proceeds to follow the mindless rabble he met the pervious night in a tavern, they reckon the vampire is in the forest, seeking to capitalise on the dense trees and un mapped landscape until itâs trail goes cold. âThese men smell of nothing more than ale and swine, any vampire will smell them coming before they even get close.â
Setting out with the men into the forest they travel deeper, some early morning drinking has slowed the group and the mid day sun is now setting, the hour of 1 is vastly diminishing and with it the light. Warnings of being out after dark have been reported, the most frequent time for vampire attacks. Fitter than the rest of the men and a damn site more sober James sets off alone leaving the group behind, from home he brought a few little tools that should help him capture a vampire.
The autumn wind is cold and the crunch of the leaves can be herd as Jamesâs boots crush the leaves under foot as he hastily looks for any signs of a vampire. A good hour of running and he has all but lost the group, no matter to him the frequent movement has quelled the cold and a clearing comes into view. Walking briskly into the clearing it opens up, a few fallen tress, scattered rocks and falling yellow and brown leaves grace the floor. At first glance nothing of note, upon further investigation there is someone slumped to the floor. âA victim of the vampire!â Rings in Jamesâs mind, sliding his hand into his pocket his retrieves a bottle of Holy water kindly provided by a local priest in exchange for a âdonationâ to the church.
Moving closer James strides with confidents. His black boots shinning well under the bleak autumn sun light, well maintained trousers matching that of his jacket show he is a man of importance, or so he would lead people to belive. His dress sense is indicative of the time, and his whole outfit is topped off with a large heavy brown coat, dressing him from head to toe in warmth. Though after his brief exercise itâs become a little uncomfortable.
Calling out to the collapsed person he will try and rouse them from a distance, getting mugged in the middle of no where would not do him and good.
âYou there on your feet. Stand and address me.â