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Nicholas sighed, then pointed at the clerk. "Take me to the mayor's home, if you would. I have to stable my horse there, then I'll take a look around and see if he left me any notes." It was an order, the voice hard and expectant of comply. A sword hung from Nicholas' belt, though more effective weapons would be used for the killing he would have to do.

Grey nodded in acceptance. That explains the noises I hear every night.

Nicholas immediately stabled his horse, having one of the mayor's servants take care of the cleaning and feeding. He then let himself into the mansion.

The front doors opened into a large, roomy, green vestibule, decorated with fine walnut furniture and silver candle ware. The walls were white, the carpet green, and the furniture wooden. The grand doors of the place were also large and wooden - very sturdy, in fact. Murals and painting hung on the walls, filling the room with stern-looking ancestors. Golden plates were attached to the wall under most, giving a brief history of each.

There were several rooms on either side, and curved stairways rested opposite the front door. Under the arch of the twin stairways, a door led to the kitchen and dining area. A few servants walked quickly about, doing what Nicholas knew not.

Upstairs, presumably, were the bedrooms. After later investigating the place, Nicholas would soon discover a modest library connected to a grandly furnished study. There would also be found a large conservatory for plants, and an observatory upstairs.

A chubby man, either the house chef or maybe one of the chef's frequent patrons, lead Nicholas to the mayor's personal study, where a letter awaited him sealed with green wax.

Reading over the letter, Nicholas summarized it into this: He was to stay at the local inn/tavern, and would spend a month before doing anything that might draw unwanted attention to himself. Then, once he had observed the forces he would be dealing with, he could work out a plan to help the village.

When the mayor spoke of 'helping the village,' he refused to be specific and stayed in the safe, vague bounds of 'helping' instead. No orders of whom to watch, nor whom to kill.

Of course the mercenary would do no such thing. He would pick out a room at the mayor's own house, and do his job his way, whenever he chose to. After all, he was the expert on the matter.

Also, it had seemed the mayor would be visiting 'relatives' for the next few weeks. There was listed an address by which to mail him, but Nicholas would waste no such time with the man. After unpacking his small amount of belongings, the mercenary sent a letter towards the monastery he had previously come from, asking them to send a few more things he had left behind.

With his sword at his side, and more than a few other trinkets at hand, Nicholas left the mayor's home to do some exploring of the town. He wore his large overcoat unbuttoned but closed.

((Let me summarize this - all these characters are a little confusing. Dr. Gordon is the mad scientist, and Ulric is the chief sorcerer? And Adrian is the head of the vampire family. Oui?))



Nicholas walked among the streets of that village, slowly drawing himself a mental map of the area. He took notice of the tavern the mayor had tried to send him to, and the local hospital. A school for young children, and some farms existed outside the village boundaries. There was the mayor's home, and the large, foreboding mansion next to it. A large tower could be seen rising above the tree canopy in the distance.

((Where is the scientist's home and what exactly is it? Like another mansion, or a tower, or what...?))

(yes, Zfatal. and the Doctor has a large castle on a hill opposite of the tower.)

As night fell, Adrian stood up, "well, I'm moving to the cellar now. I am rather thirsty, and the blood I've saved up should sustain me. If anyone else wants some of my private reserve instead of biting necks tonight, you know where I am..."

---

Dr. Gordon looked up at the clock, "Look at the time! I'd better get the horde ready!"

---

Ulric's eyes opened suddenly, "The time is right. The offensive troops must be mustered to defend..." He opend the door to the room and briskly walked down the stairs and out of the tower, motioning a squadron of skeletons to follow.

The sound of clanking armor fuilled the streets as a squadron of skeletons followed a man in robes carrying a glowing staff marched across the valley to his usual perch. from the castle, an army of groaning, lurching humanoid forms made their way to the vllage, led by a man in a white labcoat, his glasses gleaming in the moonlight.

The two leaders, once on their perches, waited for their forces to gather. the zombies outnumbered the skeletons 6 to one, but the skeletons were armored and armed with swords. they began to call to each iother from their positions.

"Well, well Ulric! I see you've brought new skeletons this time!"

"And you seem to have recycled the zombies they destroyed last night!"

"Stage magician, I'm gonna beat you this time!"

"You haven't managed to for the past year. what makes tonight different?"

"This!" Dr. Gordon held up a glowing vial of white liquid, "My zombies are now super zombies! capable of running extremely fast and jumping really far!"

"Well then let me take it up a notch then." The necromancer replied smugly. The ground shood as a massive hulk of a skeleton arrived behjind the others.

"What the hell is that?!"

" 'tis a bone golem. I once used them to bring down castles."

"Well... That's cheating!"

"No, cheating is the fact your zombies are armed with hammers and rakes."

"Oh, so you noticed?"

"Enough talk! Let the battle commence!"

Both pointed at the otrher, and zombbies and skeletons ran forward and began to tear each other apart in a fierce melee. The scientist and necromancer stood watching their forces destroy each other. it was an awesome battle. One played out every night.

(It's a clear night this time, and a full moon as well...

Aslo, thanks Zfatal. *bows*)

(actually, they're told not to interfere... they are allowed to watch, but disturbing their duel can be fatal...)