"I've told you already, it wasn't from no vampire-"

"Shut it!" The zealot barked, not wanting to hear any of it as the man was forced into a chair and held down appropriately. The gent in the chair, cheeks a little red from his boozing, struggled a little more from the discomfort rather than pure resistance. They had made it pretty clear that wouldn't be tolerated. Nigel, seeing more than enough out of the goon squad, pushed his way past the loud idiot to get in personally with this 'captive'.

They had been travelling to this back-water little town. Quite a few villages that seemed so neatly tucked away into the north here, some he was pretty sure didn't even have any names. But, apparently, according to them, this was where the 'vampire' supposedly was, and this man had been bitten. Again, supposedly. Nigel didn't have any confidence in these loons and, at this point, felt like he was just here to minimize damage. This poor man clearly didn't want anything to do with them after all.

Upon stepping forward, Nigel looked over the man. Fair age, maybe in his twenties, and a slightly darker complexion that he usually saw around here. Apparently a frequent traveler through these parts. He had visited the medicine man here for some unrelated problem when the good doctor thaught he saw the fang marks. Naturally, kneeling before the held down man, his eyes went to his neck...

The tiniest, faintest little dots of slightly lighter pink skin were indeed there. Had it not been for that darker complexion, it'd be easy to miss.

"... It's just a love bite. I told you." He chimed in again, seeing Nigel looking at the mark. To that, Nigel's eyes went to his, and he offered a little smile.

"Aye. A love bite." He nodded, seeming to reassure him with agreement. The others in the room, of course hungry for vampire blood, looked at one another in confusion. Clearly, they weren't sure what to make of Nigel's response here, gauging each other's reactions to see if someone should do something. But, before they could get any ideas, Nigel reached out past the man's head. With two gloved fingers, he pinched a bundle of hair...

And plucked them from his head.

"AGH!?" The man in the chair yelped from the sudden unexpected pain, Nigel having ripped some hairs out from their very roots. "W-What the hell!?"

But, Nigel's moustache kept curved into a gentle smile, tucking the hair away under his glove alongside the other little bounty he had picked up from the killing site. At once, he could see the man's colored essence now... And, briefly, he just took it in. He was a different color to the owner of the nail, obviously. This man was certainly not the vampire, not that he thought he'd be to begin with.

The others had fallen silent watching Nigel with curiocity even as the old hunter stood back up and seemed satisfied with what he had done despite, to them, not doing much of anything that made sense to them at all.

"Alrighty sir. You're free to go."

What? All of them seemed to pause at that. Even the man in the chair. It didn't take long though for him to try and pull away from the zealot's grasps though, and this time, they didn't fight it. He stood up from the chair he had been forced into and, with a bit of a drunked stumble, gave them all hateful looks as he brushed on by and made his way out. The others, well, they seemed upset.

"What the hell was that hunter?"
"You're not really from the church are you!?"

So quick with the accusations! Nigel turned to them calmly though, "I've got what I need. If he was bitten by a vampire, and the vampire is indeed here, I'll be able to find them don't you worry."

"How? All you did was pinch off some tuffs. You think we're stupid?"

Nigel frowned. He didn't want to explain to these idiots how his eye worked, or even that he had it. Such a thing these days looks an awful lot like heretical magic, and trying to explain how it's a relic of a time when the church was a little more liberal with how the tolerated and ordained things so long as it was their own creation was not a nuanced conversation he was prepared to have with a bunch of weapon wielding thugs.

"... Are you not confident your vampire is here?"

"What? Of course they are!"

"Then please..." Nigel straightened his jacket, shooting the accusing zeolot a look that told how serious was his conviction. "Let me work."

"Work how? What do you do now?"

"Simple. I look for the vampire, and I'll know it when I see it."

Perhaps it was the attitude Nigel had with saying that, or that it was clearly he was withholding information, but they all seemed more visibly aggravated at that. "So, okay, what then exactly? You're just going to go to each building here and fuckin' take a peak?"

Nigel shrugged; "Why, yes actually. Figured I'd start perusing the fine establishments around here. Think I saw a cute little café on our way in."

This answer, apparently, was unacceptable. Without warning, one of the many people surrounding him swung their metal club down at a chair, obliterating it and sending splinters scattering across the floor. An intimidation tactic, meant to represent what might happen to him next, maybe hoping it would make him flinch as another one of them got right into his face, hardly an inch away from touching noses as furious eyes glared daggers into his own.

"We didn't drag you all the way out here for fun, hunter!! Where is your pride!? Your zeal!?" Another quickly jumped in.
"We will be going with you, and if you don't find our vampire, or turns out you were pulling our legs, we'll grant you a trial of your faith by way of pain! Do you understand!?"

Nigel took a deep breath, a scowl on his brow. These guys... "Fine. Just do me a favor and wait outside, right? I don't need your 'zeal' getting in the way." Or, terrorizing people without reason. He wasn't going to back down to a bunch of ruffians half his age acting like they could just break some things and make threats to get their way.

"Whatever you old fool. We'll be watching you."

What kind 'Partners'...


From here, Nigel began his little tour of the village. Accompanied by six of them, his job was supposed to be simple: Check for vampires, come back outside, and let them know if he found them. Apparently, the rest was going to be handled by them. He got to 'help', and they got to take credit for bagging a vampire. In theory anyway. This whole thing still felt like a farce, but Nigel was in a odd position of both wanting nothing to do with them while also trying to find a way to resolve this without them dragging people out into the snow like savages.

So, door to door he went. Much of the time, he didn't know if he would be entering a business or a place of dwelling, as it seemed many people made their homes the places they worked. Barring the rough posy that followed him, the place was rather quaint. Had he found this place without them, it might even seem downright pleasant. He visited the mill, the tailor, the smith... Each nervous at the sight of stranger, but warm in their reception as Nigel warmly greeted him. He even got to see that café he mentioned, so curious how something like that could be found all the way out here.

Still, of all the people he lay eyes on, he never saw someone carrying a matching essence. Not to the hair owner, and especially not the dead bard. It was beginning to seem like there was indeed no vampire around here, and he was going to need to think of something clever to get the violent goons on another path away from this peaceful quiet place. They were kind enough to wait outside for him with each place he visited, but that wouldn't last if he couldn't find something. It wasn't until he asked after an apothecary in polite conversation with one of the locals that he learned they even had a potion shop...

"We've been searching for hours..." One complained as they all came upon the potion shop. To them all, indeed, it was just one shop of many. Though, Nigel, he could tell something was a little different about it here. Though he could not put a finger on what. Maybe it had to do with how separate from the rest of the village it seemed, or how it looked to have been perhaps a newer building than the rest... Or, maybe it was his eye, pulling him.

"Patience lads. We've nearly covered everywhere." Nigel reassured them, though he could tell he was testing their patience. They were so eager to find this 'vampire', and this was taking so long for a supposed 'professional'.

"Whatever. Just hurry it up. You talk too much to everyone."

"Gotta be sure I cover all my tracks." Nigel responded with a little wink, a smile tugging at a corner of his mouth, but the scowl of the man told him the enthusiasm wasn't appreciated. Still, without any more chatting, Nigel approached the quaint potion shop and casually let himself inside...

Within, he was immediately inundated with the smells of herbs and spices, a nice warmth that greeted him from the cold outside. The size of this place, like much of this village, was small but so brimming with vibrant homely little touches he quickly felt a sense of ease. And it being a potion shop, just scanning around and seeing all manner of medicinal supplies was quite something... Until his eyes, naturally, fell upon the shop keep at her counter.

And Nigel immediate paused.

He could see it, the faint color of the man with the hair's essence within her. Their 'vampire'... Was real. And here she was, at a potion shop. Not only that, but just looking at her, his experienced age told him many things. She was stunningly beautiful, for one, a fact any man could appreciate. The fact that she had this shop alone must of made her extremely capable... To exist for a long time in a single place, as a vampire, who must feed off of others, makes creating a long term home difficult when the goal is concealment. And this place was gorgeous! She must be very smart to have been here, built this place, and skilled enough to operate a business like this...

She also, clearly, was no threat. A vampire who carved out a peaceful living here, harming no one, was not at all something he'd actually ever find. Not just that, but he could also clearly see she was not the vampire who killed the bard. The zealots, unbelievably, were right. There was a vampire here, but it was not the same one who killed all those people. Not that it would matter to them...

With so much to take in, Nigel realized he must have stood there just staring for a little while, gawking at the beautiful woman across the room. Without a word, he took his hat off his head, holding it to his chest as he took slow strides forward into the place.

"Forgive me, miss..." He began, short silver speckled hair combed to one side in a slight wave without the hat to hide it on show. "I had come inside hoping to find a remedy. The old 'Tool' does not stand to attention as quickly as it did in my youth, you see, but I-... Well... After laying eyes on you, it suddenly seems to have resolved itself."

Cheeky. Nigel offered a small smile, trying to be his typical cheery self he presented before everyone he met. Hell, he even lead with a crass joke. Complementing a woman's looks while masking it with a self-deprecating compliment? He would be a hit at the retirement home, had he not been slightly too young to belong in one quite yet. It betrayed the gravity by which his meeting her meant.

He, unbelievably, had found her.