In a place like Kurayo, one would assume that Logan would be in paradise. That he would reap in the rewards of his accursed kin taking their place as the dominant race in a world where human vermin reigned most of it. Here, he could feed as much as he wanted, slaughter (within reason) to his delight, and partake in other nightly rituals. Instead, he felt unease ever since he set foot off the ship. Something was off and it irritated him why he couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. Perhaps it was simply too much for him to believe that he could actually thrive here; with his long outstanding history of solitude and isolation, it might have been possible that these things were good to be true. He knew one thing though- that he didn’t belong in the outside world.

His suspicious eyes remained cautious as he trekked through the lower districts where the smell of dog was ever constant. How in the devil did vampires ever manage to work with these things were beyond him, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to attempt anything where the numbers weren’t in his favor. The only thing managed was the occasional snarl beneath his breath as he moved onto high districts where more of his kind were prominent. There were quite a few humans; some were “pets” to the vampires, some were esteemed guests, and others were here for reasons of their own. One of the major ones was likely the expansive marketplace he found himself in.

Perhaps a new sword would be in order, had he the money required. At this point, he still looked as though he had crawled through a buried grave as the clothes he had stolen back in Jayou had become dirty. Being a stowaway on the ship did have its disadvantages. Still, he carried his head high and started to check things out when a smell hit him. It wasn’t that of the sweet baked goods or the scrumptious scent of blood about him. Nay, it was a stench that hit him on full blast. And just like that, the thing that had made him so unease came right back to him. But this time he knew why.

Hasty in his stride, he followed the smell and approached someone with their back turned to him. A love shade of red locks this woman carried and yet he could see nothing but red. Nothing but rage as he pounced while she was busy with whatever stands or peddler captivated her attention. His hand fetched a dagger and went to press it against the soft skin of her neck and he brought himself to her ear. “Tell me why do I smell an Augustus on you, sweet lady? Tell me which one laid such upon you. Was it that holier than thou Reaver or that rat bastard…”

Even remembering his name made him want to vomit but he kept whatever bits of coolness among him, not thinking twice to press the blade deeper into her. “Nemesis?"