Life was not easy for the man named Jack...<br/><br/>Jack was not your average person, living in a past most would call hell. For almost centuries, this Elf has traveled the world with no destination in mind...forever being cursed to travel and never staying put. He had no choice but to drift from one location to another, haunted by his memories that was done onto him by others or himself. With each passing day he felt his soul and heart shrivel up inside of him, becoming darker and colder...but he simply couldn't find himself to care. He only a few important, essential, things focused in his mind...<br/><br/>And right now, one of them was to finish this job. He had heard from a local church that this manor on the outskirts of town was owned by a vampire that overstepped his boundaries. The church did have the facilities to deal with such a power, but he did not make himself a threat...well, that changed now.<br/><br/>The Elf was dressed in his usual dress. Mainly compromising of rough, hard leather dyed in the darkest black. Upon closer inspection, one could see that the armor wasn't exactly solid...but was made up of rows of leather that overlapped each other. And his gloves had his fingers exposed, only covering his palms and the backside of his hands.<br/><br/>Over this armor he wore two extra features that seemed rather bizarre. He had this black hat with a brim wide enough to cover his face when need be. And the top of it was big enough to tuck in the extra sharp angles of his ears, making it hard to discern him as an Elf. He also wore a large trench coat (of course, black) that masked his body, which was a bit slim, but not overly so, he had a bit of brawn to him.<br/><br/>He looked more like a tall human, than anything else, while wearing all of this. And it was even harder to call him an Elf given that he didn't take care of himself well. His family was always paled skin, and he never bothered with shaving often...so, like now, he usually has rough hair dusting his chin and cheeks.<br/><br/>The only other things worth noting on his person was that in place of his left, emerald green eye was an eye-patch. The need for this eye-patch was made obvious upon seeing a long, horrible scar that started from the top of his left eyebrow, over the eye, down the cheek, through the lips, and then down to his chin. A grievous injury that looked even paler than his skin. And, of course, his trusty shotgun.<br/><br/>Looking up at the manor, the cowboy-like Elf huffed and looked to his shotgun, the weapon out of its strap and in his hands. He smacked his lips as he opened the dual chambers to see the bullets were ready in place. These bullet weren't your usual brass and lead...oh no, these were bullets used for those of darkness and supernatural. The naturally pure metal of silver crafted in the form of projectiles...guaranteed to kill mortals and monsters alike. Of course, the churches and temples of the world that hold possessions of these beauties wouldn't promote the use of such things against mortals...but Jack didn't really care. To him, mortals could be just as monstrous, if not more, than the monsters they fear.<br/><br/>Closing the chambers again, Jack moved forwards to the manor...the building could be in better state...considering that there was a giant hole in the wall, and the place looked like a caretaker hadn't given a thought to this place in centuries. Noting this, Jack couldn't help but grin darkly at how cliche this vampire was living...his grin revealing teeth that looked sharper than they should be...there didn't seem to be as many molars...mostly fang-like canines.<br/><br/>But, his grin went away as he had a thought...what if that big hole came from someone else that came looking for the vampire. He heard that this parasite had his hands involved with the dark underworld of this town...but of the natural and supernatural underground. That...would complicate things.<br/><br/>Sniffing real quickly, he didn't sense anyone within the mansion...only a moldy old house that needed to be condemned. Nothing overly new...<br/><br/>Jack growled to himself in frustration and quickened his pace, keeping his shotgun at the ready for anything that could come popping around the corner. It paid to be ready, because you can't collect money if your dead.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>