The Primal Hunter

Jake searched his inventory and found a stone chair he had swiped before. He summoned it and sat back as he listened to the projection talk. This wasn’t a case like in the Undergrowth dungeon and that Altmar elf. This was just a recording, nothing more, nothing less.

“This place is – or perhaps was – once called Yalsten. We were always a secluded small world with few exits or entrances since this place was created. For many years it was a paradise. A place of study and learning, free of war and conflict. A united people under the banner of the creator. We cultivated resources, trained fighters, and did as we were commanded. But, alas, this would not last.

“The creator was known as Yal, the world named after him. A mighty A-grade on the crux of advancement. Yet time was coming for him. He sought to advance but found himself unable. He sought power but faltered. Do not misunderstand; I do respect the creator for making this world… but I have long been disillusioned towards his person. He was just another greedy mage seeking to advance through any means possible. This world is ultimately nothing but a prison for his family to be kept safe forever. It was a place for his family to be kept safe…”

Jake looked up to the black ash-covered ceiling as he listened, hoping it would soon get to the good part. So yeah, some space mage or something had made this world and put a bunch of people in here, including his family. He guessed the next part was about how shit had gone wrong.

“While his life was long, he knew it was ending. So the creator sought ways to extend it. Natural Treasures consumed in droves, forsaken rituals of old, everything in his power he sought out. Everything appeared to be in vain… until he showed up.”

Jake frowned at that. The projection had perhaps not done it on purpose, but he felt the intent and will injected into that word - the pure hatred, powerful enough to survive even within an otherwise completely powerless projection.

“He came bearing a gift that would turn out to cost more than Yal could ever afford. The creator accepted the gift as he underwent the Ritual of Blood and joined the vampiric race to extend his lifespan and-“

“Oh damn, vampires,” Jake muttered out loud. “So, this is vampire land? I hope it’s the cool sort of vampires…”

“-throughout the years, he began offering this same gift to his family. Once his family converted, they spread it to their servants, who then spread it to their families, and within a few decades, nine out of ten had joined the vampiric race. The last ten percent were still on the fence or not deemed worthy. I must admit, my ancestors also joined them… and this entire change led to a period of prosperity.

“The creator reached S-grade not long after, and this world began creating C-grades like never before who left to join the wider world outside. Our kings grew to B or even A-grade, and we became a powerful family under the banner of the vampiric race. All signs indicated that we would prosper more than ever before, and our future was bright. Until the Bloodless Night happened… and everything changed.

“Without the power of the True Ancestor, we were forced to feed… we were made to consume the lives of others to sustain ourselves. As a third-generation inheritor of the True Ancestor, the creator was harder hit than anyone else and went insane. He died only a month after the Bloodless Night, hunted down by the Templars of the Blessed Sun. Our kings, fearing for the future, tried to hide our world away entirely, cutting off all connections to the multiverse.”

It was quite a lot of information at once, and Jake frowned a bit at the many terms used. So… Bloodless Night, True Ancestor, Templars of the Blessed Sun… Jake had the feeling this recording expecting him to know what all these were about. Naturally, he had no clue. But man, True Ancestor and Bloodless Night? Totally vampire-related. The Templars? Jake remembered hearing those were often associated with the Holy Church, so did the vampires get hunted down by an army of paladins?

A bit cliché.

“However… this was not a suitable solution. We needed to feed to live, and if we locked ourselves away, we would not be able to get livestock. We tried to nurture some, but it was not feasible in any way. Our time of prosperous growth ended up being one of the primary causes of our downfall… without proper livestock, the most powerful of us deteriorated and, in the end, had to leave this world behind to try and make it outside.

ways to survive without life energy. Alchemists kept us going for a while, but it was far from enough to sustain us. So

made some fucked up experiment or ritual that ended up creating that mist

“A ritual was theorized-“

“Fucking called it.”

nature of the mist

“Shit.”

of this world. It had always been. The mist held special magical properties, allowing certain Natural Treasures to grow, and was no doubt one of the reasons why we could grow as we did. So, the one remaining Vampire King – a powerful A-grade – came up with the idea to transform the mist. Make it into

humans, but it also included elves, scalekin, beastfolk, and most enlightened races. More than a trillion. All to be the

was hearing that was actually a legit thing. Seriously… a trillion was a fucking lot. That was more than a hundred times Earth’s population before the

King was a master of curse magic, so he thought it would be smart to create a special kind of curse to infuse all the livestock into the mist. He would not kill them… no, he would seal them. Make them constant batteries of life, turning their entire souls into

did those it affected. If you have been to

alchemical products and what little livestock we still had. The King was more affected by his own curse than anyone else, and in an attempt to not be corrupted and fix everything, he tried a different ritual… one that ended up causing even more harm. Within the next decade, 99% of this world was consumed by the black mist.

like this, us just hiding in towers, sometimes single

death for us all. We deteriorated… but soon, we did see one spot of light. The mist began being cleansed. The curse weakening. All we needed was time… and so we waited. The Counts entered Eternal Slumber, and the rest of us tried to make it. This recording being

few things. First, the mist was good for treasures and a natural part of this world. Second, the vampires had lived in these towers, and the creatures outside were mutated

information we have learned through the ages. Be it regarding alchemy, smithing, construction, tailoring, or any other profession; it is there. I hope you will take this and spread the knowledge to allow Yalsten to live on, at least

treasuries of these towers. Claim

while and just stood there. Jake stared at it intently

before he was about to waste his time tearing the recording a new one, it

to that promise. In the center of the Mistless Plains lies a hidden structure that contains this treasure. Power left by the True Ancestor Sanguine, brought here by the creator. One that can only be accessed when the keys of nine kings come together. These kings themselves have long died… but the Counts of Blood still lived at the time of this recording, and they now hold the keys. One of these Counts resides within this tower. However, be warned… for the Counts have entered Eternal Slumber, and if they still live and awaken, they will be hungry. If you can even reach their quarters, that is. I wish

many topics. He counted about five hundred books total on the bookshelf… and there was no way in hell he was going

managed

huge poles of metal on each side embedded in the stone. Jake very much wanted to steal them, but that wasn’t possible without breaking down the stones. He had tried with the Pillar, and the stones were

Oh…

something. Something he probably should have remembered a bit earlier. What did Jake do the last time he came across contraptions he could not break? Because he did have one weapon. One made

Alchemical Flame.