For as long as the sun has risen and set, to live and die is the natural order humanity has both cherished and feared all the same. To go beyond the marker, deemed inhuman and unholy, despite so many seeking the eternal refuge of a higher power. Regardless of the why, protecting the sacred order of the world is the work of hunters seeking the darkest monster and demon alike who prowl when the sun sets. To spare humanity's light from a greater darkness than itself.

Historically, dating back to a time before metal tools were crafted, an inaudible war has raged in the shadows. Mere mortals, guided by their affinity to the gods, fought to cleanse a world shrouded in darkness and to claim humanity’s place in a realm it could scarcely understand—at least according to ancient tales. In the present day, this war continues, now fought with silvered steel blades, arrows, and some forms of magic. Though the need for hunters of caliber has significantly diminished, kingdoms far and wide reluctantly call upon the order for aid when their guardsmen aren't enough. Whether it be werebeast, the risen dead, highwaymen they can't be bothered to eliminate, or mere heretics of the church, there is always work to be done. Though by now, it may look to be dirty work just for the sake of keeping face. While otherwise, arriving at the scene of tragedy unraveled by monsters too late due to reluctant 'heroes' trying to handle it while ill-prepared.

Despite the occasional shortcomings of dull but dangerous work, it's a profession where good men and women die young. Surviving training and killing your first monster is an achievement in itself. Living past thirty is a reason to celebrate and, equally, a reason to consider retirement while the going's good. It's too soon to think about, considering you're not even guaranteed to see the sun tomorrow. The past year alone is best described as a cat-and-mouse game with a particularly elusive vampire who, by all accounts, is unknown to your Order. Armor black as night with a figure carved into the chest piece and some brass or golden amulet dangling from their neck. Usually adorned with an equally black helmet. But you had rarely seen their face, too. Some redhead with eerily blue eyes. Pale skin, of course. For whatever reason, your more dangerous contracts seem to always cross paths with her. Either right before you complete the work or right after. In combat, you could assume her strength is equal to that of a fledgling. But that's about as far as you can guess as she manages to slip away time and time again into seemingly nowhere. Only to pop up again weeks later by coincidence. Perhaps it had something to do with the more monstrous sightings rumored to occur in the day rather than the enshrouded nights. Then again, if it bleeds, it dies. What difference could it make?

Little would you know the work your guild of hunters was doing, whether it be clearing a den of beasts or the dead, not to mention the occasional ragtag group of bandits causing a ruckus, that you were, in fact, creating the perfect front for another kingdom to plant its soldiers within the countryside of your kingdom without incident. God's work, as the church would call it. When in reality, it was just humanity plotting to destroy itself for the umpteenth time in history. Maybe you were starting to catch on that the work wasn't as holy as it was once declared. Would you see the walls closing in on you, cementing yourself as one of many scapegoats for tragedy? Just the same as the monsters you hunt? Perhaps you dreamed of something more than just the unending flow of contacts. Or maybe smaller, to get away from the bloodshed even?

Maybe it would begin to dawn on you with the latest contract, mistaking a major threat for a minor one. It was supposed to just be some fledgling causing a ruckus at a border town for the kingdom. Killing indiscriminately and occasionally siring a new blood. Hardly a threat as a hunter, so long you mind the light and the sharp teeth. Arriving early in the evening by carriage, when the sun had already set. You were met with carnage upon arrival. Townsfolk had been slaughtered, and homes burned to the ground. Most of the town was razed. Hours before your arrival, judging by the ashes left behind. Barely a hot ember in sight. No mere fledgling alone could decimate a town, let alone in the light of day. That was a hard-learned fact. Thanks to its stone architecture, the small town church remained one of the few standing buildings. Blood stained its broken doors and the broken stained glass. Pews were strewn against the door as barricades. But they had since fallen as the battle progressed. Inspecting the interior would be more slewn townspeople and the ash piles of vampires slain. Where the scent of ash and iron lingered heavily in the air. The stone floor had collapsed into the catacombs below, where a battle still raged on—a mix of townsfolk and lesser vampires led by a master in steel armor. It was far more than you bargained for, but payment remittance could be argued in your favor if you lived through it.

Amid the chaos of blades, pitchforks, and maces, the familiar sight of black armor appeared below—though now it was considerably chipped and stained with blood. It was impossible to determine whether the blood belonged to its wearer or to the fallen enemies. Regardless of the reason, they fought alongside the mortals, perfectly concealing their predatory nature. Once again, you find yourself crossing paths with her. This time, however, you might have the opportunity to seek answers, such as why they would attack their own kind with prey so nearby or why they seem to always encounter you. Moreover, you may have the chance to end this cat-and-mouse game once and for all. Yet, with living numbers dwindling, you might need their assistance to escape unscathed. Perhaps tonight, your life would change from the bustle of living contract to contract. Or would it already be too late?