The River of Thames
September, 1662
The sound of wood creaking as it glided across the still water of the Thames, echoed throughout the little passenger ship. The river was busy but easily navigable by those with experience. The wind was calm but enough to pull it along using its dirty white sails. Containing a little over 50 souls aboard, the ship made enough money during its voyages to keep itself in good repair but passable in appearance.
Passengers gathered around the banisters at the edge of the port side, to see a glistening London beneath the moonlit and star abundant sky. A new city for some, a home for others, but for one traveller on this beautiful night, a new work location.
As the ship slowly brought itself in closer to the pier, the first mate shouted to all passengers above deck.
"Final stop, Savoy Pier!".
Groups of men, women and children hurriedly gathered their small belongings to prepare for docking.
Reeling its sails in, the wooden transport slowly crawled to a stop nearby to a hub filled with smaller boats than itself. Crew members started throwing ropes tied to its hull towards the pier's workers, so as to help bring the boat to a stop and safe dock. After a few moments of workers running around, taking care of their duties, a wooden ramp made its way to the port side exit of the ship, finally allowing its passengers to feel the safe ground of land.
There were people nearby, welcoming both newcomers and family members as the souls aboard started rolling off the ship. Tears, laughs and even some arguments immediately ruptured the air, bringing this previous quiet working place to a bustling gathering area.
Finally, the man of the hour took his steps onto the ramp.
Wearing black leather boots, safely fastened with metal clippings. Black trousers not slim enough to make out the outlines of his legs but enough to not become too baggy on him. A white overcoat reaching down to his knees, done up so as to cover his wait and chest area, leaving only a little breathing room near his neck allowing a red scarf to slightly peer through. His face, half covered from his nose up by the black tricorn hat he wore, with an elegant accessory of fur and a candle like shaped pin to its right side.
He casually strode down the ramp, his footsteps announcing his arrival, but before finally placing his left foot on solid ground, he hovered for a slight moment as if thinking stepping in London now would be a good decision.
But eventually, he did.
As he walked down the pier, with a slight rhythm to his movements, a man about 10 metres from him, started making his way in his direction. This made him stop, and turn around, to see two dock workers carrying his luggage. More precisely, a large wooden chest, safely secured with two very intricate locks.
However, mere seconds later, one of the workers suddenly tripped as he was walking backwards, dropping the chest in front of him with a heavy thud.
The man in the hat grasped his chest tightly, letting out a small moan. Seeing his belongings being mishandled like they were would normally make any common citizen turn in a fit of rage at the poor paid workers, but this man was different.
He casually walked up the fallen worker and offered a hand as well as his speech.
"Please, do be careful with it..."
His voice as calming and charming as the smile he put on.
"S-Sorry sir! I-It was an accident-" grabbing the man's hand for help, the dock worker rushed his words, almost as if he was going to be fired for his blunder.
But in a swift and smooth motion the man pulled the dock worker in close to his face so each other's eyes could meet.
That piercing gaze of emerald green was accompanied by words which sent heat down the worker's throat.
"...It's more valuable than life".
Even while it didn't sound like one and his smile didn't help its case, this was most definitely a threat, and so the worker hurried his movements to safely carry the chest off the pier, to a collection of wagons waiting nearby. The man with the red scarf merely watching him.
A sudden greeting and question finally changed the scene.
"Good evening, sir. How was the trip?".
The voice came from a man in all white, the man which previously tried to approach in his direction.
"A gentle breeze, calm water and the smell of moonlight. The journey was fair, indeed".
"I see your reputation as an eccentric identifies you Mr. Ghershall".
The man in all white stated with a slight bow of his upper body and a hand crossed around his chest.
"Jack, please. Last names have such terrible consequences in our line of work".
Jack raised his tricorn hat slightly to meet the man before him with a smile.
Seemed like an upstanding gentleman. Leather brown boots, recently polished. A pair of white trousers being held by a strong black belt around his waist. His chest adorned with a black shirt, openly peering over the white shade blazer he wore over it. The top of his head covered with a regent top hat, black in colour with a single green felt line around it.
His golden hair while short still waved slightly in the breeze, and as the man finally straightened himself, Jack finally got a good look at his face. Manly features, a strong nose, a jawline covered with a thin stubble being well kept. While his eyes did not glow a bright colour, the dark mahogany strength to them made him look stronger in stature.
"As you wish... I am Alexander Wells, a pleasure".
Jack quickly noticed another group of dockworkers carrying another one of his belongings and hurried to stop them.
"Gentleman, if I may...",
The workers stopped, allowing Jack to reach into the thick leather bag they carried and grabbing a leather holster from within.
"Thank you, gents, carry on".
He walked back towards Alexander, removing his overcoat as he did.
"Would you be a dear and hold this?".
Alexander grabbed the white coat with golden lining without protest. As he did, he looked at Jack.
The man carried around his waist a brown leather belt containing 4 small cube and cuboid pouches strapped close and sewn into the belt. Accompanying them, 3 round -almost spherically perfect- bottles hanging from simple cord, with a simple brown cork.
Jack slung his holster around his back and tightened it around his chest, revealing to Alexander, the holster contained a flintlock pistol, just in view, almost under Jack's left arm. He then asked for his coat back with a simple stretched hand and a smile.
Alexander graciously handed it over and asked,
"Expecting trouble on a 10-minute trip?",
Jack put his coat back on, without buttoning it up this time.
"Why don't we send the luggage there, and take a walk? Such a beautiful evening would be wasted being felt from within a carriage".
"Is there something in particular you wish to... feel?",
"No. Simply the air, the roads, the crowds... it's a new area for me, I'd like to get acquainted before speaking to the old man".
Alexander gave a simple smile back and nodded. He turned around and waived to a carriage a few lengths away, already containing all of Jack's possessions within. The driver of said carriage also nodded, before a quick whip of the reins sent the two horses slow gallop forwards towards their destination.
Jack and Alexander then made their way east towards the same destination.
As they did, Alexander had some questions of his own.
"This your first time in London?",
"As a matter of fact, it is. I have been deployed to Brittania before, Nottingham being the most recent, but that was a fair while ago".
Alexander took a good look at the man to his side. Himself being 23 years of age, the man before him looked at least 5 years his senior. While his reputation in their line of work was on par of being called revolutionary, the gentle disposition and glued smile gave him a sort of mixed impression.
"Where were you before this?",
"The Americas. Perhaps you've seen my work?",
"I've seen a lot of the reports, in thanks to the Chaplain Grand Master. Impressive work but never had the chance to see you in the flesh. Some within the organisation would call you a natural born genius and Hunter",
"Along with many other things, I'm sure",
"I'm not one to base my judgement of a man from baseless rumours and barely believable eyewitness accounts. While your history comes with black lining, your reputation should speak for itself. This is my view at least".
Jack suddenly stopped, followed by Alexander.
A small burst of laughter came from the man being interrogated.
"My, my, you truly are a good honest man..." they resumed their walk "Theres not many like you in our field. Humour me Alexander, should those baseless rumours as you call them, come to light and become truth, would you still view me the same?".
A small pause for thought from Alexander.
"Probably not... I'm of belief that results trump the methods".
"Then you and I, dear boy, will get along just fine...".
While later, they both came upon a massive stone gate entrenched with sky high walls to both its sides. A large sign above read "Lud Gate". They were close to their destination.
This time Jack asked some questions.
"Tell me Alexander-",
"Alex, please",
"Alright, Alex. Tell me, do you believe all the monstrosities we fight are evil and a plague upon this world?".
Alex immediately took that question to the forefront.
(Was it a trick question? The man before me is one of the most renown Hunter in Europa. He kills these things for a living. Could he be asking this as a test? Or perhaps...).
"I have never met one that wishes to help us",
Jack grinned ever so slightly.
"But of course... then shall we say, what if you do? Would you prioritize your Oath or give it a chance?",
"Trust is a feeble thing. More so when it comes from a fang or undead mouth. Best to eliminate that which you cannot be certain with".
Jack took a long hard look at Alex with a grin, making the man slightly jump in surprise.
"Who said anything about trust? I'm asking... should a monster ask for, or offer help, would you extend your hand or your sword?",
An awfully long pause before an answer arrived.
"...My sword. Monsters cannot be allies...".
Jack let his breath leave through his nose, before turning to face the street in front of him. His smile dissipated.
"Of course".