Chapter 0.2: Alric Jorgensen

Alric, tell us your story.

Alric's online research ran into a dead end. Again. Again. He throws his pen across the room. The issue isn't the lack of info - it's the massive amount of nonsense. Alric can only take a look at so many of the thousands of websites made by quartz-wielding, essential-oil-diffusing, astrology-fetishizing Karens before he develops the urge to throw himself off the roof. Tempting, as he's living directly below the roof of this apartment complex. He sighs. This approach obviously didn't work, and so, with some sliver of sanity remaining, he decided to instead see if he could find book shops or libraries for magically inclined people. And that, finally worked.

Until it didn't. He finds himself at the reception of a library's hidden section, only a few feet from precious, precious knowledge. BUT APPARENTLY they don't actually allow people in unless they're already known, or can demonstrate affiliation with the underworld, or have someone with you to vouch for you who falls into those categories.

"I don't fucking get you people. Do you rather have me cobble together half truths from the internet, or access clear and curated knowledge from your library?" at least the bite in Alric's voice should be something they understand, if nothing else.

"I'd rather have you just leave now, otherwise I'm forced to call security." the receptionist responds, deadpan.

"Martha. I swear in the name of Nethys, if your decision here forces me to practice unsafe magics, I'll do it in the proximity of this godforsaken library, so that you'll share any misfortune befalling me", he exclaimed, his eyes full of defiance.

Martha has seen and heard worse, but slivers of contempt and irritation are noticable in her voice. "Alright, you have ten seconds to get out of -"

Martha didn't get to finish that sentence.

0.2 Alric Jorgensen

Hope sprints in with bleeding claw marks across her face, homes in on the librarian, and starts talking very fast. "Which kinds of vampire survive a staking, how do I tell what type they are, what do they take to kill?"

Martha purses her lips. She would really rather not give the geek who swears on videogame(?) gods any more ammunition than he already thinks he has. But she knows Hope, so she'll answer. "Ahh, I think chalcedony, the stone skin kind, need to have their heart removed from the rest of their body to be killed. Stake to the heart should keep all of them down, though, if you hit the heart. Did a vampire go feral?"

"Didn't see any stony skin? I probably just missed then. Horses not zebras. Thanks. And yes, someone accidentally turned a serial killer or something? Every clan I know has kill on sight orders on him, and his sire's clan has a bounty." She notices Alric standing there. "Hey, this would be a lot easier with more hands. You don't look like a fighter, but if I don't get him in about five minutes, we'll all be dealing with him in the dark." She holds out a crude wooden stake. She knows better than to ask Martha to leave her library.

"A vampire hunt? A vampire hunt. Yes, sure, sure, I'm in. I am definitely in the mood for some violence right now." Alric shoots Martha a glance and takes the stake. "Martha. This isn't over." A touch too dramatic, maybe, but then again, can you ever be too dramatic?

Mundanes are such a pain to ward against. Not worth the bother. Martha thinks as she waves Hope and the yappy one away.

"Not the best motivation, but I can't say I don't sympathize. Follow me!" Hope runs back out the door, two blocks down the street, running towards a hearse, where a thin, pale man with a bloody hole in his shirt - but no wound underneath - is facing a figure who wasn't there a minute ago.

Blood-red eyes glared at me as the vampire tore at the band of stone encircling its leg, clawed fingers ripping through the asphalt like cloth. It hissed with fury and sprinted towards me, running on all fours.

Gritting my teeth, Inara spoke an echoing word of power and gestured with my hand, guiding another strip of flowing black rock up out of the ground. It curved around the vampire's neck and tightened, dragging it back to the road before solidifying. The monster thrashed madly, legs overturning a nearby crate. Red apples bounced free, rolling across the deserted market square. It hadn't been crowded before the vampire went feral, and nobody had been stupid enough to stick around after.

Nobody except me.

Gold runes flickered around my fingers as Inara shaped another shackle, binding the vampire's arm down. It tore free in a spray of black shards, pale hands scrabbling at the thicker noose around its neck. Chips flaked off the stone as it flexed worryingly.

Hope pulls a claw hammer from a belt loop beneath her jacket, and charges in, shattering the vampire's face with a swing. "Stake, now!". A hammer to the face may not kill a vampire, but it does tend to slow down most things.

Alric is obviously far slower than the leather-donning Flash over there. Fortunately, that gives him time to think.

okay what is going on, vampire hunt, sure that makes sense let's do a dream check, okay, on the streets running, library entrance, library back room, martha bane of science, library entrance, streets, home entrance, stairs, apartment, pen flying, computer, karens, cereal, shower, bed, okay everything checks out no skips there. i'm planning to stab a monster, schizo check next

Arriving at the market square, he takes in the scene. Two girls, one monster. The small one shimmering in gold doing stone bending*?* while the other whacks the monster's face with a hammer. I'm going to wake up in some boring meeting and feel like an idiot shut up stupid you already excluded the dream, check for schizo

While jogging towards the fight, he lifts his camera up to his face, clicks the button, and the camera flashes. By the time he is close to the fight, the photo has developed. okay, matches what I thought I saw, I've done what I could, at this point it's up to society to keep me in check if I'm nuts Photo, back pocket. wait is that the bar girl, wasp, no, vesper? i recognize that hair. i have to learn that shit FOCUS alright time to kill the monster. with a stick.

Alric leaves his backpack and camera on the floor and grips the stake with both hands. With a deep breath, he takes a running start and leaps towards the vampire -

- only to get side swiped by the thrashing monster immediately, and subsequently thrown across the market place. With a tumble he comes to a halt on the cold asphalt.

"Try again, I'll try to pin him better!" Hope does not seem to consider that being thrown like that might be incapacitating.

Grapple - opposed roll vs Distracted vampire: [3, 1] Result: Failure ❌

This vamp aint no wild card, but is a bit skilled: [4, 0] Result: Success! 🎯

(The vampire has a -2 modifier because they are entangled by the asphalt under Inara's control. 4-2 < 3 --> Hope's grapple succeeds) (Vampire is Distracted (-2 to their rolls), Vulnerable (+2 to actions made against them), and cannot take actions besides trying to break free.)

The loop of road around the vampire's neck really reduces the leverage they can get to twist free of Hope, who binds them tightly.

Hey, I said, watching the fight from behind the 'safety' of a mental barrier. I know those two. That's Hope and Alric.

Shut up, Inara snapped. I'm trying to concentrate.

Tendrils of asphalt sprouted from the ground, reinforcing the bond vampire's bonds as Hope wrestled it, struggling to hold it down so Alric could get another strike in. Its blood-red eyes glowed malevolently as it fought against her grip, but between the stone encircling its neck and Hope's strong limbs, it didn't have a chance.

That hurt

He's not used to running, not used to getting hit and thrown through the air. It takes him a second to reorient himself. It seems, besides bruises, there's no lasting damage. Well, that might be the adrenaline talking. He'll find out later.

A stick. A stick. What are these people thinking? What was he thinking? He takes a deep breath and gets himself upright again.

There is a difference between the way the world is, and the way people see the world: as having purpose, as having meaning. But these are just things people attach to their perceptions and can be discarded, and while useful as general heuristics, this backfires stick when people follow those narratives STICK rather than actually think for themselves.

Alric's mind goes calm, and he unsees. //https://gwern.net/unseeing

scouring the market place for materials: [2, 3] Result: Failure ❌

[spending a benny to reroll notice]

rerolling notice check for scouring the market place: [6, 6 💥 5 = 11] Result: Success with 1 raise! 🎯🎯

Anyone with at least enough drive to google things could build weapons out of whatever they have in their home at any time. This is a market place, there's everything here. And this isn't his first time blowing things up.

A quick look around. There's dozens of options, and he's willing to apply the scientific method to find out which type of fire and explosions work best for this kind of problem.

He could go for that gasoline canister plus rag, that's guaranteed to work. Or fashion something explosive out of the cleaning supplies over there. Or make that fucking stick spray bottle rocket powered so that he doesn't have to get close again. All of those are reasonable solutions to the present problem.

Buuuuuuuuuuut there's one thing he always wanted to try.

This market place has freshly made baked goods. And with that, packs of flour. And he just so happens to see a leaf blower nearby.

Repair roll to see if he can combine the flour and leaf blower and get a ball of paper ignited: [1, 3] Result: Failure ❌

rerolling repair check for mcgyvering: [2, 4] Result: Success! 🎯

"Hurry up!" Inara shouted. "We can't hold it for long." She glanced at Alric, fumbling around with — was that a leafblower? "What the hell are you doing? Just stake it!"

Alric runs over to the baked goods, okay great they actually have white flour, grabs a few packs and runs over to the leaf blower. He fills up the leaf blower with the flour and puts it on. please work The leaf blower weighs heavy on his shoulders as he makes his way towards the vampire.

Fun fact about white flour: It burns at about 380 degrees celsius and has caused quite a few explosions in mills and backeries, at least before people wisened up and started being more careful around it. Flour as a clump is not dangerous. Flour as a dust filling the air definitely is.

"GET SOME DISTANCE!" he shouts over the noise coming from the leaf blower starting up. The amount of flour in the leaf blower only lasts for a few seconds, but that's more than enough to cover not just the vampire, but also the floor around and the air above it. And Hope, who is starting to move away.

The flour is gone, now only a spark is needed. He drops the still running leaf blower and kneels down. Leaf blowers are high power devices. You cut a few cables, you get a bunch of sparks. Alric pulls out both his notebook and leatherman, rips out a few sheets of paper and crumbles them into a ball. Almost in parallel, he starts cutting inside the leaf blower. Finally, a spark. And with that, his paper ball starts burning.

He stands up, gets to the edge of the dust cloud, and chucks the flaming paper ball in.

Hope risks a glance over at the stranger, sees him pointing something at them with a worryingly enthusiastic expression, and runs as the air fills with white powder, trusting the magical bonds to hold a little longer. She checks to see that Vesper is also safely clear.

The vampire, smelling the fire, renews their clawing at their bindindings with the despiration of imminent redeath: [1, 0]-4 Result: Failure ❌

The vampire tears open their own flesh in an effort to free themselves, but to no avail. White flower dusts their unbleeding self-inflicted wounds. It only makes them more flamible.

The vampire combusts. Flour explosions are no joke, but once the vampire catches fire it burns like sodium; flaring up with an angry snapping sizzling that burns even hotter and catches its clothes and bones alight too. In less than a minute it is fully cremated, its final howl still echoing around the empty market square.

All that remains is ashy melted tarmac.

"Well. That works too. Nice work, uh... I didn't get your name."

"I'm calling dibs!" Alric yells as he moves away from the vampire ashes, and towards any of the market place stands that have plastic bags. He grabs one, and on the way towards the vampire collects his backpack and camera. Arriving at the vampire, he takes another photo - I have to switch the film - and then starts shoveling the remains of the vampire into the plastic bag, using a folded piece of paper as a makeshift shovel. "I'm Alric. This thing hasn't and isn't going to infect me, is it? It's also not regenerating from this or anything, right?"

"You weren't bit, and I don't think anything made of matter can come back from that, so I'm pretty sure you're good. You got a use for vampire ash?"

"I'll find out soon enough. Hey, from where I'm from it's customary to owe someone a favor if they help you kill a monster. Do you have a number I can reach you under? I'd consider us even if you're available for questions that I have, and some research help." And please hurry, he thinks, I'm not in the mood for condescending snark from the pub girl.

Hope writes her cell number and gives it to him. "I can't teach you much about magic itself, but I do know the community. I still didn't get your name. I'm Hope."

"Nice to meet you, Hope. Again, I'm Alric. A-L-R-I-C." He takes the paper, and puts it into his backpack, together with his bag of ash. Beating the dust off of his knees, he turns to Vesper. "Irina! It was an absolute pleasure to see your immense competence at play here, but unfortunately, I don't have time to dilly-dally. I have important mundane business to attend to." He just couldn't resist throwing something her way, couldn't resist being somewhat cheeky about it. He knows he looked fucking cool right there. And then to Hope, "I'll call you later today."

And with that, he starts swiftly walking away, disappearing around a street corner. There is research to be done.

Irina, Inara seethed. That wretch. He knows my name. I KNOW he does. And I could have torched that vampire too. WITHOUT setting the street ablaze.

Speaking of which...

Inara sighed and waved her hand, gathering the lingering flames from Alric's makeshift flamethrower into a ball. They floated off the ground and collapsed in on themselves, shrinking into nothing over the span of a few seconds. Moments later, the bracelet of glowing runes around our wrists winked out as the spell ran its course.