Victor

Grimworth is a town of ill repute. Strange, dangerous, and fascinating things have happened here for centuries. Legends born in its streets whispered of those who shapeshift in the moonlight, of creatures caught between life and death, and, of course, of those who fear the sun, drink human blood, and know no end.

Is eternity a gift or a curse? Mere mortals don't consider it. For them, anything dangerous is diabolical, and a soul deprived of peace is blasphemy. Each person has their own end, followed by reward or punishment. But what about those deprived of the right to die? Those granted immortality? Are they already punished by their very existence, or does their judgment still lie ahead?

But let's leave philosophy and return to history. Grimworth has known no peace since ancient times: it has been and continues to be tormented by vampires. Damned creatures whose eternal life is bought with the blood of others. How many men and women, old people and infants have fallen prey to their fangs? It's impossible to count. And now they remain a shadow looming over the city.

It was late at night; the moon burned especially brightly, and fog lay across the land like the cold breath of the grave. You had just returned from the city of Altarheim—a place where bell towers tower above the rooftops and fanatical faith dwells in every stone. The main church of the Holy Virgin Mary serves as the stronghold of the "Holy Order," from where hunters are sent to protect people from the darkness.

You are one such hunter. And, unfortunately, it was you who was sent to the cursed Grimworth to rip the infected vein from its heart—the vampires whose thirst has long since outgrown human understanding. Well... please accept my sincere condolences. And from now on, let history unfold as you will.