Revan smiles at him, again.

"I," he says lightly, "am going to pillage while you scavenge. Let me know if scavenging doesn't work."

"Will do."

Off he goes to drink the blood of dismembered cultists!

This involves his teeth lengthening into fangs, which is reasonable, and his eyes turning yellow and his forehead acquiring a hard ridged scowl, which seems unnecessary.

Yep, that's a bit unnecessary. But he's seen weirder things. He can't remember most of them, but he's definitely seen weirder things somewhere. He's not judgy.

Off he goes to pillage for information on how their summoning thing works. And just for general stuff and information.

There isn't a whole lot of information around. One exit from the throne room leads to a large, luxuriously appointed bedroom with several full bookshelves, but the books are mostly not about vampires or summoning rituals or whatever the hell that trick was with the candles and the black fire. In fact most of them seem to be fiction.

Also, neither the throne room nor the bedroom has any windows. The bedroom does have electric lighting controlled by a simple mechanical switch in the wall.

The lack of windows is explained when the other exit from the throne room leads to a stairwell that takes him up to the aboveground portion of this bizarre quasi-castle. There's a dormitory there that seems to have housed the cultists, and more simple electric lighting. Very low-tech, this place. All the doors operate mechanically, no automatic opening, no powered movement, just hinges and a handle. There are a few windows on the ground level; outside, it's a clear night, with one large and quite beautiful moon in the sky amid a totally unrecognizable configuration of stars.

Meanwhile, Mark is discovering that dismembered cultist blood seems to pass muster with his new vampire appetite. He experiments with deploying and retracting the fangs-and-forehead-ridges ensemble. It seems to be very definitely a package deal, more's the pity.

This is very low-tech. The lights aren't a surprise. He's seen lights before. Doors that open by hand and not in a bizarre complicated fashion, though? He's sort of delighted by the novelty. He takes a few minutes to familiarize himself with how these sorts of simple mechanical doors work. Easy to break into, of course, you can just take out the hinges with a blaster and you're in, and it's impossible to open or lock them remotely. He's seen some things like them before, but it's more high tech than he's used to for a mechanical door. Usually it's hand-crafted wicker-nonsense or high-tech blast doors, no in between stage. It's interesting. Also fun to mess with.

(He only giggles a little when playing with the door.)

Revan takes some time to sort fiction from nonfiction. It's - uh, a challenge. Especially when one doesn't actually know the history of the planet. He copes, anyway, and digs up what seems to be a history book on something called the 'American Civil War.' He verifies that it's nonfiction by skimming it; it's too dry and technical for fiction, and there are various citations in the back. He's almost entirely sure that it's nonfiction.

He's going to get Mark to check it anyway. It's not like Revan's familiar with Earth history. He heads back down to the summoning location, book in tow.

"I haven't found any information on, er, this. Or vampires. And most of the books I've found seem to be fiction." He hefts his discovered book. "This was about the only book I could reliably identify as nonfiction."

"Hm," says Mark. "Let me have a look."

He only has to glance at the title. "Yeah, pre-Jump Earth, all right. I recognize the historical event in question. Let's have a look at the publication year." He opens the book. "1998. Which puts us somewhere between 2010 and 2030, I'd say, judging by the quality and condition of the paper. Paper books show their age pretty reliably, some of them. If this Earth's future is congruent with my past, interstellar travel will not be invented for another couple of centuries."

"Poor souls. May the Force be with you, brave galactically isolated warriors," says Revan.

He visibly brightens upon Mark's analysis. He correctly found a book that was nonfiction, and correctly guessed that Mark could figure out more from it than he could. It's the little victories, really.

"Yeah, I'll take a look around."

He pokes his head into the bedroom, then comes out looking thoughtful.

"Is it just me, or does the lack of windows really not fit with this man's image?"

"Well, there's one way to find out."

Up the stairs he goes!

He does not explode in the moonlight.

"Mm. I don't know what kind of - magic, I suppose, that they did. I don't know what its limitations are or what rules it follows. It doesn't feel like anything strange is happening around us right now, but I didn't feel anything strange happening right before they threw the candles and I had the Force ripped away from me. I don't know if their ritual sacrifice thing was to do anything besides feed their 'god,' or if they had any safeguards in place for if things went horribly wrong. I don't know if they chose this location based on that, if there's something inherent in this place that's bad. It's all very mysterious, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to be caught off guard.

"Furthermore, the place is built to look unassuming, to fly under the radar - but it's got nothing to back it up. It's kind of pathetic, actually. I'm not asking for security cameras in every room and key cards for every door, but I would like a layout that isn't made for, 'everyone upstairs is caught off guard and slaughtered, and the one person downstairs gets time to flee.' Except, and correct me if I'm wrong, there's no place for the one person to flee to, unless that ritual is two ways. I didn't bother to look for secret exits, and there very well might be one, but it wouldn't improve the inherent 'everyone that is not me is expendable' aspect of the building design. I take offense to that kind of building design.

"Worse, there aren't any obvious resources nearby that make staying here worth any of that. I didn't see any nearby towns, I didn't see any major roads, I didn't see mines or factories or key locations that make this place worth putting up with. It's made to not be valuable enough for anyone to care about. That would be useful if people were actively hunting us, but as far as I know we've killed anyone that would even know we're here. As it is, we're in a situation where it's wise to be known and ask around and talk to people - you're obviously highly trained and physically enhanced, and I have laser swords that cut through nearly everything and Force powers. I don't think we should assume that we'll automatically win against everything we encounter, but I think skulking is a bad move.

"And then anyone that meets us will connect us to the cult that we just killed, if they knew of the cult. Again, that could be valuable if they were a well known cult, and we were trying to present ourselves as righteous cult-killers, but they weren't well known. In the much more likely event that people we talk to don't know of the cult, then we're suddenly the creepy murderous duo with a pile of corpses in the basement. I don't know about you, but I do not want to be the duo with a pile of corpses in the basement.

"... Also I don't want to clean up said pile of corpses." He smiles. "So that all adds up to 'I think it's a bad idea to stay here for longer than a few days.'"