C3V Wave 15 Teaser Week#2

The full details of Van Nessing's past are a mystery even to him. The records of the Royal Library state that he was found on the edge of the Elven Sacred Copse, half-dead, already into middle age, and lacking any memory of his past life. Regardless of what his past concealed, Queen Elana Starling enrolled him in the ranks of the Kresnik, an elite group dedicated to hunting the forces of darkness that roam Feylund. Over the course of many years, Van Nessing became a master of techniques that made him more than a match for any common foe encountered in Feylund's creeping night.

An expert in many forms of weaponry as well as unarmed combat, he was driven to constant training. Above and beyond his extensive knowledgeable of undead lore, Van Nessing is armed with an eclectic mix of items and weapons designed to take maximum advantage of the traditional weaknesses of the forces of darkness, including silver bolts and relics blessed by the Elven Queen herself.

Despite Van Nessing's unrivaled hunting prowess, he quickly grew weary of defending the forests and hunting the walking dead that plagued Morindan. He also found it hard to keep his opponents alive in accordance with Kresnik dictates, which state that all followers must make it their mission to discover the cure for the conditions that beset their former brethren. But Van Nessing found it hard to see past the perversion of reanimated corpses and lycanthropic curses.

During one of his hunts, selfish arrogance caused him to abandon his companions to chase after Ophois the Darklord, and he was overwhelmed and infected by the werewolf lord in the process. Aquilla saw him in the midst of this transformation, and saved him to assist her in fighting the undead in Kinsland. The Archkyrie's hatred of all things unnatural parallels Van Nessing's determination to rid the earth of the foul creatures. Doing all he can to find a cure for his own curse, he serves valiantly, promising never again to forget his Kresnik duty.

A dark shadow flitted just beyond my view. I jerked, twisting towards the movement, but nothing was visible. I glided forward, continuing to scout. The movement must have been my imagination, or perhaps a small jungle dwelling animal. It couldn't be the Skinless Ones; only the Nagrubs were that small, but they stank of Marro filth, plus they were never far from the massive Hivelords.

A bush to my left rustled with another scurrying movement. This animal was following me.

Suddenly a small animal appeared, scuttling down a tree, its two large front claws digging into the trunk. What could it be? I'd seen many animals as a scout, but I didn't recognize the shape or size of this creature. Wait, its skinless body was pinkish, like a Marro. Could it be? Flicking my tongue, I picked up a faint strain of the putrid Marro scent.

Something launched itself at me from behind and latched onto my skin, digging in with razor-like claws. More of these strange creatures pounced on me and held on with their talons, trying more to gain purchase than to mortally wound. I tried to shake them off, but their claws only sunk deeper into my scales. I felt my body weakening, my blood leaking into the jungle waters.

I twisted to slither away. I had to warn the Warlord. But more of these strange Marro parasites kept latching on to me. My movement slowed until I could move no more; the pain made it impossible to concentrate. As the creatures began to greedily slurp up my freely flowing blood, I knew I'd never deliver my final report.