Open Chronicles Hellsfeld

[Heike Eisen]

Heike's body jolted, as if she had seen some frightful thing, and she stirred from her unconsciousness. On her back now (the flaring reignition of pain from the burns wounds clamping onto her attention) instead of on her stomach. She sat up. Looked with wide, horrified eyes until she saw the blonde-haired mercenary.

And that horror was reaffirmed with a single glance. The girl. Infected. Claws and eyes and pallor like Heike's own.

It should have been a simple matter, like it was with the man into whom Heike had thrown the trident smeared with her blood. She had slain him justly before he could turn, and, in that heightened situation, she or Szesh would have slain him anyway had she not thrown the trident; such was combat. She had been diligent, as she always had, for she knew the baleful danger her blood posed. Heike had resolved years ago, near the very beginning of her afflicted 'life' to never allow another vampire to be created on account of her blood.

And she failed.

Just as she had also failed in her duty to Reikhurst. Here, now, this mercenary who had been her enemy but who still was undeserving of this cruel fate, had been turned into one of the very monsters who sacked Heike's home.

Her hatred for vampires was beyond any rational measure. It was all Heike wanted ever since that day when she woke alone in the ashes of Reikhurst to slay one of the elusive creatures. To exact even by proxy some small pittance of revenge for her family, her city, her home.

But she could not. Not here. Her Oath of Justice and her Oath of Honor forbade it. Honor for the reasons of custody, and Justice for the manner in which the girl had become a vampire--through Heike's own negligence. It would be akin to a man's blunder causing his wife to die, the man blaming this accident on his neighbor, and then murdering his neighbor, should Heike kill the girl for the sole reason of being a vampire. It was Heike's fault.

This conflict ravaged Heike's thoughts and waged ceaseless war with her emotions and left her ruined in the moments following her waking.

And she lost all of her knightly composure.

Heike ignored Szesh and the strangeness of his metal scales and crawled over the bodies to be beside the blonde-haired mercenary. Sat on her heels and held out her hands but did not touch the girl, her hands hovering above the girl's shoulders and arms just beyond the reach of contact, as if Heike wanted desperately to hope that mere touch could reverse the crushing tragedy she had caused yet at the same time retaining a cold, arresting fear of what she might do if she did lay her hands on the girl.

Heike's tone was the last meek candle of staving off the smothering dark of night. "No, no, no, no, no, there's something, something, anything, there's a way, there's A WAY to fix this I know there is there has to be there just has to be for the love of home and hearth there's a way for this to be undone I swear it I swear I'll make this right I'll do it I can I will I can I will...oh gods..."

Heike slumped over onto her side. Not having fainted, like before.

Overwhelmed. Purely overwhelmed.

Her eyes still wide and piercing, perhaps, into another world.

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

Fereliths eyes went wide with fear as she saw the vampire reach forward as she sat on her heals next to her among the bodies. There was hatred in her eyes. She lunged forward halting the vampires pleading words. Picking her up from where she collapsed by the front of her top she would slam her into the wall. Her pleadings stabbing I to her ears like ice picks of sorrow.

“Shut Up! You did this to me and have nothing to offer but sniveling, empty promises!” She spat her face an inch from Heikes. “If there was a cure you would have used it By now!” She raved Her own yellow eyes staring into what could’ve been a mirror to her own. That was when she saw it.

The conflicting hatred and guilt.

Shame as well all piled up and fighting for control behind her eyes. She sighed. She knew that look. She saw it everyday when she saw herself, and saw it in the eyes of those who made mistakes that haunted them. Her grip loosened and her expression softened as she simply let go and embraced her. Her clawed hand pressing against the back of her foes head and the other patting her in the back.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I just don’t want you falling down again..“ She muttered gently. Holding her up until she regained her composure. “Your lucky your so cute..” Ferelith muttered almost to herself until she seemed to realize she had said it out loud. A blush slowly pooled in her marble white.

“For a monster..” She added wryly.


“Anyway..It-it’s fine..Don’t fall off your rocker alright? I’m ok..Such as it is..”She found herself speaking comfortingly despite the swirling emotions inside her brain. The crumbling state of her former enemy’s emotional state taking her back to her younger years in the pit.

Comforting other children as they had been brought in. Many had lost everything. Seeing their friends and family raped and slain. It had always been something she had done in the old days.

Things she had buried to become the psychotic, sarcastic cynic she was known to be. Yet after the rescue of a baby dragon that had once been a simple package a couple of weeks ago she found the old her unearthed bit by bit. This was one of those rare moments that were slowly to her horror becoming more common.

She saw a foe weakened and vulnerable literally in her embrace yet she sought to comfort rather than attack. To support rather than beat while distraught.

“Looks like I did die on stairs. That stupid hawk is going to never let me live this down.” She said with a sigh and a crooked smile.

“Are you crying? Fourtunas left breast your a knight aren’t you? Pull yourself together or I’m telling all my low life friends about this..”

She said her wry smirk only growing along with her blush as she tried to diffuse the situation the only way she knew how.

Pushing her emotions down deep with the rest of her debilitating traumas. There would be time to mourn her situation later. Right now she needed out of here and these two seemed like her ticket. She felt strange but it wasn’t all that different from being alive. Feeding had been...unpleasant to say the least, but now that it was over she felt almost her self.

 

[Szesh]

Szesh watched Heike awaken, watched her scramble to the blonde woman and babble at her. He had never seen his undead companion like this. She had always remained cool under pressure, on top of every situation, but now she was shaking, pleading, utterly beside herself.

The change in Ferelith, Heike's distress, it all came into focus at once. He knew why Ferelith's eyes mirrored Heike's, why she had grown claws. He was a fool not to realize it before, Heike had bitten her, after all. From their talks, Szesh knew that Heike hated her condition. Hated what she had become and sought to destroy every vampire she found. Now she had created another, something he knew she could not forgive of herself.

She should forgive, though. She would have perished had she not fed. The mercenary forced her hand. He struggled to get up when Ferelith shoved Heike against the wall but slipped on the wet bodies, his heavy metal arms going through armor and bone. By the time he was able to crouch the women were embracing one another.

He wanted to pry Ferelith off of Heike, to throw her back to the ground where she belonged, but he remained still. He had seen Heike in action, seen her tear the head from a direwolf and pierce the skulls of countless men. If Ferelith now possessed that strength there would be precious little he could do for his friend.

He dared not speak. Was she... trying to comfort Heike? The behavior of this woman never followed expectations, and he was certain now that she was quite mad, regardless of her new undead affliction.

They needed to leave this tower, to find rest and food. Perhaps if Ferelith were forgiving Heike for transforming her she would let them leave in peace. He was angry at her for the trouble she'd caused them, and he did not trust her at all, but his fatigue was beginning to take precedence.

His scales faded back to their normal silver sheen, and he felt lighter once more. Whatever had caused the iron skin had worn off.

 

[Heike Eisen]

From the floor of the landing (or, more specifically, from the mess of bodies of the slain mercenaries strewn about the landing) to up and against the wall of the stairwell. Heike's back, once again, bursting with a new pain akin to a hungry bonfire roaring higher with the addition of copious new tinder. The pain tempered her spiraling emotions to a degree, forcing a portion of her attention onto the agony radiating out from the burn. Like two combatants struggling to drown one another, the pain of the burn had risen above the metaphorical water and plunged Heike's emotions down into it by the neck. But, submerged as they were, Heike's emotions still lurked powerfully under the surface.

It would take time. A very long time for acceptance to come. As it had been with Reikhurst. There was a period in Heike's life when the destruction of Reikhurst and the slaughter of everyone she loved was The Worst Possible Thing, a period in which it had not happened. And then it did. While it weighed heavily upon her even up to this very moment now, she had in the years since the tragedy in Reikhurst come to accept it in the manner of "what is done is done." The wound was no longer open, but the scar remained. After Reikhurst, the next Worst Possible Thing to sit on that baleful throne was this: creating through whatever terrible circumstance another vampire, another kindred monster to those who had brought about the realization of the first Worst Possible Thing.

This, too, had now come to pass. And acceptance--not the complete abatement of emotional agony but the assuaging thereof--was a long way down the road.

Heike, here now in the moment so far removed from this possibility of acceptance, understood fully the girl's intense anger; her body limp against the wall without even the will to defend herself.

What Heike didn't understand, in the small moment that followed, was the embrace. Like a strange inversion of the same motion Heike had initiated earlier when the two of them were mortal enemies, an action solely intended to bring harm to the mercenary, this time the motion was initiated by the girl with the ostensible intent to heal.

To forgive.

Heike, operating on a wordless impulse of instinct, embraced the girl back. Squeezed gently and then tightly, as if by determining the right pressure to apply in the hug would through some miracle revert the horrific transpiring of the girl's infection. Heike closed her eyes and clenched her teeth together and found the resolve to say what needed to be said, the only thing she could say, the acknowledgement of the mercenary's own angry words said before the sudden embrace.

"I am sorry," Heike said. "I never meant for this to happen to you. No one deserves this fate."

They disentangled. Heike standing under her own power again.

Don’t get the wrong idea...

A brushing aside by the blonde-haired mercenary, followed by another compliment, then a little jab and a cavalier joke. A small huff of mirthful air escaped Heike's nose when she said, For a monster, and then at last a single laugh along with an averted gaze and a smile cracked through when she said, Looks like I did die on stairs. Heike's own sense of humor winning through in that moment and anesthetizing, briefly, that awful swirling brew of horror and guilt and alarm and shame. A small something. But something.

She looked to Szesh then, the strained quality in her tone not completely vanished but a certain firmness and confidence having been regained. She said, "Szesh, we'll need someplace quiet to recuperate." A brief thought on the mill. "Again."

Staying in the tower was an absolute last resort. There was no telling what sort of unknown company might be coming here for business with the now deceased wizard.

And Heike looked back to the blonde-haired mercenary then. She simply didn't have the heart yet to mention anything about the girl still being in her custody, still going with them back to Alliria, still at the lawful mercy of Captain Bronmarch along with the bald man with the burned legs.

So she simply took the moment to introduce herself. Not properly, with her full address, but as best she could.

"I'm...Heike. Heike Eisen. May I ask your name?"

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“Heike eh? Nice name. Most call me Ferelith.” She said seizing the vampires claws in her own and giving it a firm shake.

“I can feel your eyes burning holes in my head furnace gut.” She said to the dragon man with out even glancing at him before slowly turning to him. Her eyes held steel in them as they met the draconian’s own. She was not afraid.

“Don’t look at me like that. I took this job at the point of a sword in exchange for a clean slate in Elbion. With the wizards death and the one pointing the sword in no condition to follow through on his threats we have no quarrel. Accept that if you will or don’t, but this leech.” She said throwing her arm around Heikes waist and pulling her close to her side.

“Owes me until she’s dead...oh....umm...” her face screwed up in consternation for a moment as she realized her frenemy was already dead.

“I mean until she dies again. And I intend to collect.” She said with a confident smirk releasing the vampire.

“If you’ve got a problem with that I can tie both arms behind my back and we can take it outside until our differences are settled. If not then don’t give me that look and trust me enough to not slay you in your sleep and ride off into the night with your dragon horde or whatever it is you scalies have.” She said standing confidently. It wasn’t threatening or hostile, but it was determined.

She would not be viewed as an enemy because of petty past disputes she had made her case to the massive draconian and it was now up to him whether he accepted her reasoning or did not. Strong warriors such as himself were the type to make their on decisions. There would be no intimidation or sorrowful tale that would sway them. They needed facts and she had given them to him. “Anyway you know my name. I would like to know yours.” She offered her hand to the massive mountain.

“And by the way that hammer imbues you with iron skin when you touch it.” She said as she noticed his confusion as his scales shifted back to normal. “Old flame stubs here carried it with him everywhere we used to call him “the iron ass.” Mostly to his back after he would break up our card games and drinking.” She said with a dry chuckle.

 

[Szesh]

Szesh nodded at Heike’s request. He could not think of anything more appealing than someplace quiet and safe where they could rest and recover. He had been lucky to have only sustained minor injuries, for he did not possess the inhuman healing capabilities of Heike, who had been hurt far worse.

The mill they had stayed in the previous day was likely no more than ash at this point, and Szesh had no desire to return to the poltergeist that had plagued them there. Furthermore it was at least an hour away by flight, and they would not likely make the walk being weighted down by their injuries, fatigue, and at least one unwilling prisoner.

Ferelith’s pointed words struck him. She had turned on a dime and now sought to join them. The extremely recent memory of their battle, how she had nearly killed Heike and made their jobs much more difficult, did not want to let him forgive and forget. However, Szesh was as much a soldier of fortune as she was, and he understood better than most that loyalties shifted, and grudges were best left behind.

Furthermore, it seemed that her services had been acquired through blackmail, meaning that she likely had no more love for Trajan or Rennegast than he did. If the dying soldier was the one holding her reins she had more than enough leverage now to “adjust” her contract.

She had a point, racist remarks aside, and Szesh would begrudgingly accept her olive branch. What truly made a difference, though, was the Heike seemed to trust the woman. She was, as she had said, honor-bound to care for her as her prisoner. Szesh was not one to debate the semantics of such an agreement when Ferelith had very literally died under care, it didn’t matter. He may not fully trust this new variable, but he trusted Heike.

”Szesh,” he said in a hissing accent to answer her question, but he did not take her hand. There was still too much infected blood on both of them, and his wounds were not yet closed. He turned and climbed the body-strewn steps to retrieve Trajan, slinging him once more over his shoulder. He was still breathing at least. Ferelith’s explanation of the hammer and its owner were illuminating. It was a handy trick, but he was not sure if he trusted the magic enough to use it again.

He trudged back down to the landing. ”I did not see settlements as we arrived,” he confessed, knowing that he would need to swallow a great deal of pride in what he said next. ”Ferelith,” the name was somewhat difficult for him to pronounce, ”Do you... know anywhere safe to rest?”

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“Ok ssssszessshhh..“ Nice to meet you.” Ferelith said with a nod. Noticing the blood and hesitation on her new ally of sorts at taking her hand she withdrew it with a slight huff but understanding nod. Her confident, smug demeanor evaporating and being replaced by a guilty nervous stance in the face of his next question.

“W-What?!...Um..N-nope..couldn’t say I do..” Ferelith said jumping slightly at the question. Her eyes glanced at Heike’s before starting to the ground. She shuffled her feet slightly obviously lying. In all honesty she did have a safe house near here.

It was where she was going to stash every other guards payment when she killed them on the way to the settlements tavern. Stash the gold. Act like she had left earlier. Only having her payment in her she would make a big show at the tavern spending her payment to nothing on drinks and food for everyone. After time passes she would become worried for her “allies.” Going with a small posse of liquored up towns people to find her fellow sell swords killed and stripped of any valuables. With her I’ll gotten gains stashed away she could be proven innocent and leave under cover of night.

She had done it a thousand times. Different ways, different jobs, different places. But the outcome was a constant. Knowing Heike a law keeper Ferelith doubted she wouldn’t be stripped of whatever filled the safe house she revealed. However lying was clearly not her strong suit. Her sister had always been the crafty one.

The careful one.

While she controlled the group and planned the jobs with a web of manipulation built on a throne of lies.

Ferelith in the other hand found problems were solved far more efficiently using her powers to cut down any obstacle in way of her goal. She lacked the fore thought and practice to truely lie well, and it seemed giving that she couldn’t attack two of them in any real way in her damaged and aching state, but torture or threats would do nothing but make her tighten up more feeling attacked.

“So I um..guess we better get comfy..heh..” Ferelith said rubbing her arm nervously with a shrug. Her claws sliced into her flesh as she seemed to forget that her fingers were now basically knife blades.

“Ow! S-shit...” She squeaked cutely. Before glancing at the two in turn. Blood pooling to her cheeks for the second time in the night. “What? I forgot my fingers have razor blades on them now ok?” She said defensively. Glancing at the wound oozing blood and biting her bottom lip.

 

[Heike Eisen]

Ferelith. Heike had briefly seen the name inscribed on the dropped necklace, Gunhild, seeing now that this was not the mercenary's name, figured it to be name of someone else related. And though the necklace seemed mundane, Heike still didn't want to risk giving it back to Ferelith--not just yet. She resolved to keep possession of the necklace until they arrived in Alliria; Ferelith appeared willing enough to maintain her yield, but it was best not to inadvertently give her the power to resist, if the necklace was imbued with an enchantment that was indeed capable of such--magic dampening from her vampiric strain or no.

Case in point. Ferelith seemed quarrelsome already with Szesh and--wait. Her circumstances around her employment were...peculiar. At the point of a sword, but she was getting something out of the exchange. A clean slate. In Elbion. And the bald man was the one doing the coercing, by her accusation. Intriguing information Captain Bronmarch would likely--

Ferelith threw her arm around Heike's waist, catching her completely by surprise (this surprise translated perfectly into the expression on her face), and pulled her close with minimal resistance. Heike's hackles were raised by the sudden action, but it became apparent that there was no intent of hostility. Even in the wake of Ferelith suffering The Worst Possible Thing and enduring it with an unexpected measure of grace, Heike couldn't be too sure. Herr Elias recommended caution at all times in cases of yields.

Owes me until she's dead...I mean until she dies again...

Another small smile tugged at the corners of Heike's mouth--likely to the disapproval of Herr Elias and his recommendation. But the mirth was doing wonders to anesthetize the trauma of having her second worst nightmare become reality. It was still a violently pulsating core in the center of her chest and throbbing in the back of her mind, this trauma, but at least its baleful grip could be loosened temporarily.

Fortunately, as was a mercenary's wont, Ferelith seemed ready to let their--to put it mildly--rocky introductions become bygones. Offered her hand. Szesh, wisely, did not take it. A shrewd move. Not one made in judgment or disdain. There really was far too much blood and too many open wounds around to make a handshake tenable gesture. The spirit of it, at least, was acknowledged.

Heike could merely guess at Ferelith's motives, but at least she was compliant and--thus far--holding her yield honorably. The bald man was likely to be completely incorrigible. Had he the strength to resist, Heike had no doubt that he would do so at the earliest opportunity.

Szesh asked Ferelith about a possible refuge. Good enough. Szesh and Heike herself both didn't know of one, and it was in Ferelith's best interest (now that she was...like Heike) to relate the knowledge of a refuge if she indeed knew of a suitable place.

Only. She didn't. Didn't tell, to be specific. A glance at Heike, Heike looking back, and seeing the near immediate change in demeanor. All that confidence. Gone like a campfire dowsed in water. Heike just watched her, scrutinized her movements and her words.

Heike made her decision. Was on the precipice of saying it, when Ferelith accidentally cut herself with her own claws. For a few days after becoming afflicted herself, Heike had suffered similar little inadvertent knicks and cuts and gashes.

Heike reached out and took hold of Ferelith's offending hand and carefully drew it back from her arm and guided it down to her side. Said, almost apologetically, "You have to be careful. It...takes adjustment."

Heike's eyes dropped down momentarily.

Then came back up. Switched from Ferelith to Szesh. And she spoke more confidently, saying to both of them, "We're not staying here. We'll find a safe place to rest along the way. It's the best we can do. Let's go. It would be preferable to find one before daylight comes."

And with that, Heike turned and started to descend the stairs of the tower. Szesh had the Catalysts secured and the bald man carried. And Ferelith, Heike hoped, would do what was best for all of them of her own accord.

If not, they would make do.

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Szesh]

Ferelith's answer was not convincing, but Heike did not press the issue and so neither would he. Speaking the common tongue for too long made his face ache, and he was content to walk quietly. He kept to the back of the group where his large frame would not block the others' views. Mostly, it was to keep an eye on the newest vampire.

The night was still deep when they emerged from the tower, though how long the darkness would last he could not say. He had completely lost track of time within the tower, and while it had all likely happened very quickly, it felt like ages.

The starlight was enough to navigate by, but Heike as usual didn't seem to need it. The cleared area around the tower quickly fell away to shrubbery, and then to forest proper. They were headed in roughly the direction of the nearest portal stone, but it would be some time before they reached it. Daylight was likely to catch them before they did.

Camping outdoors was out of the question: they needed full shelter. Perhaps they would encounter a cave, or perhaps a large hollow tree that Heike could duck into. Ferelith would need to hide, too, he supposed. He wondered if she knew that.

Next to the chaos of the tower, the night air was jarringly quiet.

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“S-so what happens if we don’t find shelter by daylight?” Ferelith asked nervously. When given the inevitable answer her demeanor only grew more tense.

“L-look...just..” She stammered halting and motioning Heike and sezesh to follow her.

“Kyla made a few of these for our old gang.” She said after a small winding walk. She stopped at a lone tree next to two fallen logs. Ferelith smacked the tree and a small piece of bark fell from the surprisingly solid tree. A keyhole.

“Luckily she didn’t see me take these before I left.” She muttered pulling a small set of keys from a second chain around her neck. Four silver keys glittered next to a syringe of some kind. The liquid inside glowed the same blue as Fereliths blood had.

Choosing a key she inserted it and gave it a turn.

“There. Aannndd welcome!...”She said with a nervous laugh.

Nothing happened.

“Wait..” Ferelith said re-examining her keys. “Get down!” She yelled as a cross bow bolt buried itself in her neck with enough force to knock her to the ground. “W-wrong key.“ She gurgled our as she stood and inserted a second key as a second bolt glanced her back a moment after she stood.

A tense moment passed.

A hatch popped open and Ferelith sighed with relief. “Otay iths th ri on.” She gurgled lacking a good chunk of her throat as she plunged into the large opening. A small cave would greet them. A ladder to climb to the entrance.

Two beds and a small table adorned with a dusty lantern and charts with x’s covering good ambush points in the area. Tick marks next to the x’s representing successful jobs pulled at each point which means who ever was operating here was gathering data to statistically predict the best points for the highest intake and lowest risk. And then there was the loot.

Crates of various weapons obviously stolen from military shipments and still bearing the sigil of various nobilities that had ordered them. Chests of coin and jewels were stacked among the crates. One even severing as the small tables chair.

“Mak yrsef at hom.” She gurgled still some how being able to inflect her annoyance at her forced hand. Once they followed her inside she hit a switch causing the entrance to shut with a thud.

Resetting the switch she would take the lead inside plopping onto one of the dusty beds. One neatly made with a journal tucked slightly behind the pillow. Ferelith had plopped onto the second bed.

Dirty and unkepted her oozing blood only added to the already numerous stains covering the blankets. Sliding a box out from under her bed she popped it open to reveal a small stash of bandages and various medical supplies.

She was about to take out some supplies when she seemed to notice her claws once more. Deciding better of possibly shredding her supplies by accident she shut the box and slid it to the others with a shove of her foot. She did not look happy but looked to tired to complain or do anything more than grimace.

 

[Heike Eisen]

Their trek had begun. Out of the wizard's tower and into the dark of the night-smothered Allir Reach. The problem they faced was, in a word, tricky. The Reach was perhaps the most populated region in all of Arethil. They could find a structure or village or even campsite if they walked in a direction long enough--not too dissimilar to the mill, despite having found it via flying rather than walking. However, the true problem was that these possible sanctuaries were very likely to be inhabited; it was an astounding circumstance that the mill, at least while they were there, was abandoned. Abandoned save for a mischievous ghost, but rest they had gotten there nonetheless.

Some time through their walk, Ferelith asked the inevitable question.

And Heike answered without looking back, "Complete paralysis within seconds. Your body goes still, and your mind goes numb. Direct sunlight touching even the smallest portion of your flesh will cause it."

Heike glanced back over her shoulder briefly. Hated that she had to explain this, that she had brought this terrible curse upon Ferelith. That curse she would be made to endure for the rest of her life (which, as well, was cruelly extended to prolong the suffering and the horror).

Not long after Heike answered, Ferelith--still with some nervousness--motioned for them to follow. Heike glanced to Szesh. Smiled a little. It really was in the girl's best interest, even if she needed some persuasion. Certainly it wasn't ideal to be going to a place where Ferelith--under yield and only removed by an hour or two from being their mortal enemy--was intimately familiar with the environs. Where any number and manner of tricks were potentially at her disposal. But it was also in Heike and Szesh's best interest to follow and get their rest and mend their wounds. Those structures, villages, and campsites of the Reach didn't make for appealing alternatives.

They approached a tree. A seemingly innocuous tree. A mention of a "Kyla," and Ferelith's old gang--a band of outlaws. Heike had backslid somewhat on the surety of Ferelith's guilt when she had shared the circumstances of her mercenary employment at the tower--again, sellswording in-and-of itself was not a crime. But it seemed there was a lot to Ferelith's past that Heike was, at present, unaware of; Captain Bronmarch could potentially know more, if her exploits were notorious enough.

Then Ferelith...had a bit of an accident. Wrong key, and this set off a hidden trap. Heike had hopped backward at Ferelith's prompting of, Get down, and--

"Hell's fury!" Heike exclaimed as Ferelith caught the bolt in the throat. "Are you--?"

She didn't bother to finish asking her question. Ferelith, with her fearsome vitality and regeneration (even before the unholy qualities of her newfound affliction), would indeed be alright. Even, with a somehow alarming degree of nonchalance, casually opening the hidden door in the tree and revealing the ladder down to her refuge despite this fresh injury. Could be a tight squeeze for Szesh, that hidden door and shaft down, but maybe it was sufficiently large enough if the Draconian tucked his wings.

And down the ladder and into the little cave refuge they went.

Heike, on her feet inside the refuge proper, let her eyes wander around for a moment. There was quite a bit of...probable evidence of past crimes down here. Yet, without claimants or charges, Heike only had her hunches and suspicions. Only the slim chance of these goods being war spoils--an ugly facet of warfare, to be clear, but not a crime against the common law of the land--allowed for any flickering of reasonable doubt. Captain Bronmarch, once again, might be interested to hear of this.

Mak yrsef at hom.

The words were distorted by injury, but the message was there. Heike, with a subconscious (if moot) aversion to staining either of the beds with her blood, sat down near an open space of wall. Crossed her legs as she sat and leaned the back of her head against the stone of the cave and didn't yet allow for her burned back to touch it.

Ferelith slid a box of supplies her way. And Heike slid them in Szesh's direction. He might find some use out of them. For himself, or for their bald and incorrigible prisoner. Anything short of a strong healing/regenerative potion, elixir, salve, or related remedy, though, wouldn't do for the grievous wound on the bald man's face.

"Sleep is what we need to heal," Heike said, of herself and by extension Ferelith as well. And to the girl more specifically, "And be aware that when we wake we will need to..."

Heike closed her eyes and twisted her head in a reluctant way and opened her eyes again.

"...feed."

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

“W-what?” Ferelith said tearing off a piece of bed cloth and wrapping it around her neck before tying it off slowly.

Still getting used to claws..

that one would take a while. However this repaired the gargle in her voice more than it was meant to heal. “Y-you mean again? But I just did..and so did you..” she said glancing away for a moment. “I thought it would be like a once a year thing..I couldn’t..” She looked like she was going to be sick again.

“I just..couldn’t. Not again..Heike..” Ferelith stared into Heikes eyes the weight of her affliction setting in and begging to be told there was an out. But there would be no other way.

She knew that in her heart. She turned away from her captor and afflicter. Rolling over on her bed she faced the wall. “Use the bed. I’m the only one that’s been to any of these for years..you can burn the sheets or whatever afterwards.” She said stiffly.

Though she desperately wanted to stay angry at the monster that turned her...Well Ferelith liked her.

There was some kind of respect and infuriating infatuation with the woman. Ferelith mentally shoved it aside. Desperately trying to reignite her disdain glaring a hole in the wall she now faced.

 

[Szesh]

As Ferelith asked what would happen in the sunlight, Szesh recalled Heike’s explanation to him the previous night. She reiterated it to the girl, and he thought of that first flight through the waning darkness, how they had just barely made it inside the mill in time. How different would things have been for them if they had not found such a shelter?

Heike’s glance was met with flared nostrils. Of course she had been lying earlier, but now that her own life was imperiled once more, she had decided to share one of her secrets with them. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, although it was another irritation in a night filled with pain and fatigue. He told himself that Ferelith would come around, that she was inexorably bound to them now, whether they liked it or not, from her curse.

Trajan’s limp body was getting heavier by the minute, and he welcomed a chance to set the bastard down. The keyhole in the tree was like nothing Szesh had seen before. Her call of “get down” was barely out before the bolt buried itself in her neck, and Szesh lept back from it. His lip curled in disgust that he could not hold back as she simply… continued on as her throat oozed. He had only recently made peace with Heike’s undeath, he did not appreciate being so visually reminded of it once more.

He followed the pair down the ladder with difficulty. Trajan’s body was a difficult puzzle, but he eventually figured out that he could secure his tail into the man’s belt and lower him down first as he climbed down. He might have bumped the man’s bald head a couple of times on the way down but he kept him from falling. Szesh needed to pull his wings in so tightly that they were cramping by the time he reached the small room.

He felt exceptionally claustrophobic in here. The room was built to accommodate a number of humans, but the ceiling felt low and oppressive, and the knowledge they they were beneath several meters of solid earth concerned him. Draconians were an open-sky people.

He was relieved when the arrow was finally removed from Ferelith’s throat, and he sat Trajan down roughly against a wall. He had been unconscious for a very long time, and Szesh doubted he would survive much longer. He gratefully accepted the box of medical supplies from Heike and began to change out the bandages on his hands and leg.

He gazed around the dim room as he worked, listening as Ferelith further realized what her “life” would be from now on. It was sad, but he was not ready to pity her yet. He lingered on the stolen goods and weapons, recalling that his own spear had been lost in the tower.

He sat back in the largest open area he could find, he was much too large for the bed. With Ferelith’s back turned and Heike’s presence, he allowed himself to relax enough to close his eyes.

 

[Heike Eisen]

And again, it pained Heike to be the bearer of bad news. To hear the crumbling of whatever small foundation of hope Ferelith might have harbored down into dust. It would have been better if the mercenary had never yielded. It would have been better if Heike had mercifully finished her before she could turn. It would have been better if Heike had just been more careful during the fight, exerted herself until she was a bloodstarved trembling mess, everything and anything to avoid being stabbed and cut so much and openly bleeding from all her wounds.

Yes, Ferelith had tried to kill them. Yes, she had been in the employ of the wizard. And yes, her hideout her was chock-full of the relics of her undoubted past crimes. But still, she--and no one else on Arethil either--deserved this affliction.

Once again, Heike's Oath of Justice (that she should bring Ferelith to trial and prison) and her Oath of Honor (that it was Heike's fault, Ferelith's turning, that she had failed in her duty of care) fought with one another. Justice aided by her conviction and morality, Honor aided by her guilt and sympathy. Heike seemed to stand from a vantage on a third hillside, watching these two Oaths go to war in her mind and in her heart.

Heike stood from her spot along the wall. Tried explaining, her tone low and heavy, "It is because we are wounded. Blood will be expended to heal our bodies. It's...normally much longer...between..."

Ferelith rolled such that her back was turned. Stated bitterly that Heike could use the bed. Heike, briefly and despite the few paces' worth of distance, raised her hand up and beseechingly toward Ferelith. Stopped. Dropped her gaze and her hand. Then went to sit on the other bed.

She glanced at Szesh. Wondered fleetingly if he thought less of her now. Her failure, that diligence she had shown back at the mill--the very same Szesh had helped with--counting for nothing. She would not begrudge him any such criticisms.

Once Szesh had gotten the last of what he needed out of the box of medical supplies, Heike stood from the bed and squatted down by the box. Carefully with a clawed thumb and index finger brushed aside this implement and that. Found something within with which to help the bald man: a field salve, something that would at least stop the bleeding from his ragged cheek and jaw. He was going to need the magical attention of a healer, of that there was no doubt, but the field salve would at least close the ripped and torn muscles at the edges of his wound. It would not regrow the skin and muscle properly, and he would be drooling haplessly through the holes in his cheek and under his jaw all the way to Alliria, but again, nothing that could be done about that for now. This was best care Heike could provide under the circumstances.

And Heike (with extreme caution) allowed for the salve to ooze from the bottle and onto the bald man's wound. It was likely to be too much, a lot of extra salve just sticking to his face (or accidentally swallowed, but it wasn't toxic, he'd live), but she didn't dare to touch him. Not after what happened to Ferelith. Not with all of her own wounds.

Heike stoppered the bottle with the cork again and put the salve back into the medical bag and sat back down on the empty bed and, a thought crossing her mind, took off her shawl and then her coat. Turned her coat around and examined it. Ragged, like a beast with searing claws had raked her back. And she could feel that her shirt was no different; and this was not even counting all of the other wounds she had suffered, all of the other damage to her clothing. There was no way she'd be able to walk outside in the daylight in her current clothes. They could not offer the unbroken protection against the sun that she required. They would be made to wait until the coming of the next night.

Heike sighed and set her coat down on top of her shawl on the ground. Lay down on her right side on the bed; truly, there was no side she could lay on that was not ravaged in some manner.

And she closed her eyes.

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

Fereliths eyes snapped open some time later as she came too with a shriek.

Her body no longer drawing breath however it came out as some what if a silent scream.

Her dreams had been dark ones. Her wounds had healed but the hunger now ate at her brain replacing her pain with sluggish thought and mental agony. Her stomach felt like it was eating itself as she stared at the ceiling.

She couldn’t live like this...

She stared at her claws. Hands though hers that had been twisted and were now foreign to her even as they responded to her every wish..

She couldn’t go on like this... not for the rest of her life...

The very hands she pondered she saw clear as day in the pitch dark of the cave. Her yellow eyes cut through the dark like knives..The hand curled into a fist..had she not tried to kill Heike with her own claws?

It wasn’t a high point in her life but more importantly...

Two fingers extended. Two claws protruded forward keener and stronger than most blades.

....It had almost worked hadnt it..

She glanced at the dragon. A crate blocking his line of sight even if she didn’t hear his lizard snores. Heike was undoubtedly fast asleep still recovering from her burns.

No one to stop her...

That was when she moved.

Turning her claws on herself she lined up her own heart.

Right through the ribs..

Shed done it enough to others to know it should work.

 

[Szesh]

Szesh pretended to be asleep as Heike treated Trajan. He would be a much more valuable prisoner alive, so it made sense that she would tend to his wounds. Still, Szesh found it difficult to be sympathetic. The man's warhammer was still on his belt and it had a pleasant warmth against his side. He would be lying if he said he was not comforted by its presence. The iron-skin enchantment had taken him by surprise, but he had been steadily thinking about how it could be implemented. Arrows and blades would be useless, or at least much less effective. Temporary flightlessness was a small price to pay for such a defense... though he remained wary of using the relic. He still distrusted its magic and its previous wielder. Perhaps madness was the price for such abilities.

He allowed himself a peek as he heard Heike sit on the bed, and quickly closed his eyes again as she removed her coat. Ferelith had not moved. That was just as well. A gnawing nervousness had begun to creep against him the more he thought on their situation. Ferelith was a fragile ally at best, who had attempted to lie to them the very first time they asked something of her. Would she restrain herself as Heike had, when the time came to feed? Would he be able to hold her off if she came for him? He did not know if Heike's great strength was granted immediately, or if it required time to build. He did not wish to find out.

He was reassured somewhat by the return of the warmth in his chest. He was again able to produce flame, albeit a small amount, and he had seen firsthand how dreadfully potent it was against the undead. A familiar sting of guilt as he remembered the burns on Heike's back. She will heal now, he told himself. All will be well.

His dreams were tumultuous, as to be expected after such an ordeal. They were filled with fires and holy warriors, glowing trinkets and mercenaries dabbled with blue ink. The twisted and crumpled under his blows but never died, cracking their bones back together and laughing.

Perhaps he would take some time off after this job.

 

[Heike Eisen]

Something stirred Heike from her sleep. No loud noise, no bright light; just a strangeness in the air that sometimes perturbed one enough to rouse them from rest. Enough for one's eyes to slowly slide open, only for there to be no apparent reason for why this should be so.

And Heike's eyes did open in such a manner. It was nigh impossible to tell the time within the underground refuge. Some span of it had passed, yes; Heike could feel that a number of her bleeding wounds had sealed. Her burned back, still raw, needed more time. And the deep itching for blood defiled her throat, and she knew it would only get worse once she closed her eyes again and rested further.

But first.

Heike's eyes pierced through the darkness and looked for why it might be that she had been disturbed. No sound or smell of an intruder--unlikely as it was to begin with. Szesh was still asleep there. Ferelith was--

Heike kicked her legs over the edge of her bed and sat up when she saw it. Ferelith. Stabbing herself through with her own claws. It had been a brief thought that perhaps Ferelith had decided--even in her own weakened state--to attempt covertly slaying her and Szesh while they slept. But the truth of the matter was the opposite.

She couldn't let it happen. For the stark reason of her Oath of Honor and the duty of care, and for reasons other than that.

Heike shot up and onto her feet and crossed the small gap of distance. Her left hand had not been one of the injuries yet healed, so with her right she snatched Ferelith's offending claws and yanked them back and out of her chest.

Quiet and urgent whispers: "Hey. Hey. Hey. No."

A pause. Fleetingly, the notion that, if Ferelith had done this hours before, back in the tower, back before she had turned, back when she was Heike and Szesh's foe, this action would have been a welcome relief.

Heike reiterated firmly, "No."

Still she held Ferelith's hand.

A soft sorrow borne out of relating too deeply. A wisp of guilt. She knew Ferelith could see it through the dark.

She said, "I was there. I thought of it too. At first."

That iron seriousness came back. Permeated her tone, even as she whispered.

And Heike said, "You cannot let it define you. If you do this, it will."

Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Kara Orin]

“Seen any creeks yet?” a dirt covered Kara asked.

“No… it’s only been ten minutes since you last asked,” the orc replied.

The girl frowned in response.

Kara and her two companions traveled on horseback with a chest in tow. The sun shined down on the land. Opposite to the vampires and dragon, Kara and the gang attempted to rest during the night and travel by day.

They followed the road to the portal stone. Coincidentally, this road lead them near a lone tree next to two fallen logs…

 

[Heike Eisen]

((Within the chest, the first Catalyst began to glow and hum sporadically and vibrate with a latent trembling intensity. This, due to its proximity with the second and third Catalysts, despite these two being stabilized.))

Kara Orin

 

[Ferelith Scathach]

Ferelith grappled with her briefly struggling to yank her hand away and plunge it back down.

(0:00-0:18 for reference UwU)
“No, no, no! I can’t...I can’t I can’t I can’t..I can’t!...” her stomach lurched and churned as her hunger ate at her.

“No! It hurts..it hurts..just make it stop..please make it stop..it hurts!..” She cried out in agony as she continued to try and pull her claws free and finish what she had started. But Heike held her hand firmly. In her weakened state the vampire was much stronger than her in this instance. Finally her struggling relented as Heike gave a final firm

“No.” and she broke into sobs the emotions that had been building since their battle concluded finally breaking the surface of her cavalier demeanor.

She reached up and hugged Heike then. Her arms latching to her neck as Ferelith sobbed and held her like a captain on the mast of a sinking ship. She shivered, latched to her former foe covered in a cold sweat as her heart lay dormant. Her chest wound oozed and she cursed herself for what she had done.

Finally after a long moment her emotions flared and died. She regained her composure and seemed to notice how pressed against the vampire she had become. They were almost nose to nose as she looked into Heikes eyes.

“Oh..” she said hurriedly releasing her and backing away. “Sorry..I guess that..had just been..building up..again..sorry..” She mumbled backing away and standing. Silently she moved to the door. The sun was almost setting judging by the small amounts of light that came through the door. Either that or it was early morning.

The dragon could tell them when he woke and went out. Another blow to her heart..No more early morning hunting trips or dips in the lake..She shoved the thoughts aside.

Not now.

She would then turn to a trunk and begin rifling through it. Seeing a few things that might fit the vampire she would move back to where she had left her.

“Fresh clothes in the trunk. Find something you like when your ready. When night falls there’s a lake near by to bathe and wash in....” She said as a shameful vision of a bathing Heike entered her mind. She stamped it out immediately with a slight shake of head.

 

[Szesh]

The commotion between Ferelith and Heike woke Szesh, and he instinctively put a hand to his waist to grab for a weapon. Again, his flesh turned to iron, and he was pushed back against the wall by the sudden weight. He swore in his reptilian dialect, this hammer was hazardous.

Heike was embracing Ferelith, appearing to comfort her as the girl whimpered. His first reaction was disgust at her display of emotion, but he reminded himself that she had just been afflicted with a horrific curse. How would he react if his life were ended with a forcible return to undeath? How would he cope with the knowledge that his days were no longer numbered, but that they would be naught but pain? He supposed he owed Ferelith at least some understanding.

He stood, with effort. He was getting used to this iron form, and was very seriously considering keeping the weapon. Still, his natural distrust for magic won out... for now. He noticed that Ferelith's claws were bloodied. Had she attacked Heike? Perhaps angry at her converter? He couldn't say he blamed her, but he did not like the idea of his companion being attacked whilst he slept. The idea that Ferelith had tried to end her own "life" did not occur to him.

He attempted to climb the ladder, but the first rung broke almost immediately under his increased weight. Again his face creased with annoyance. He would just have to wait until the spell wore off. In order to prevent this... inconvenience... occuring accidentally again he rummaged through the crates in the safehouse until he found some string. He tied a firm knot to the hammer's handle and used this to affix it to his waist so that the head was now at the bottom. If he actually needed the hammer during a fight it would be easy enough to break the rope.

He could see that daylight was waning. They had slept for a very, very long time, but this wasn't unexpected given the exertion they had just been through. His stomach growled, and for an instant he envied the vampires that they did not need to feed so often. The envy vanished quickly.

He walked over to Heike, metal footsteps falling heavy on the floor. He rumbled quietly to her, "Are things... alright?"

In that moment the catalysts secured at his waist began to vibrate.

 

[Heike Eisen]

Heike could only let Ferelith work her way through it. There was nothing else to do but allow for it, for this release of raw emotion was necessary for traumas which burrowed so deep. Heike herself had punched the ruined walls of homes and structures until she'd lost the flesh around her knuckles and broke several fingers. Did this until she simply didn't have the strength to carry out her thoughts. Then, piecing back together her resolve, she had moved on.

And Heike allowed for Ferelith to embrace her, to wrap her arms around her neck. Heike, with only one arm about Ferelith's shoulders, hugged her back. Even though the motion was tempered by caution, both Herr Dieter and Herr Elias would have been furious if they had seen her do it; an inappropriate gesture between acceptor and yielder, and a willing assumption of vulnerability that the yielder could exploit.

But neither Herr Dieter nor Herr Elias had ever been in the situation Heike was in now.

Heike just held Ferelith like that for a while. Let her work her way through it. It was the least she could do to provide a small measure of comfort for the girl, to help her through this. Yes, Ferelith was guilty, but of this, of the stark fact that the girl had become afflicted...that guilt was hung about Heike's neck, and Heike's neck alone.

Sorry..I guess that..had just been..building up..again..sorry..

"You're alright," Heike said, standing up straight again.

As if on cue, Szesh had stirred with a loud, metallic clatter. Heike looked back, eyes easily making him out in the dark. Fortunately, he seemed to get it. His alertness was keen, if Ferelith had been intent on breaking her yield and trying something, but he was quick to deduce that it was not needed. Likely found it odd--concerning even--if he had witnessed the tail-end of Heike in Ferelith's embrace. She let it go, Heike did. Believed that Szesh trusted in her enough to know that she would not allow her guard to slip completely around their captive.

Speaking of captives, the bald man slept. Likely an unpleasant rest. He was separated from appearing dead only by the slight rise and fall of his chest.

Ferelith had gone to one of the trunks in the underground refuge. Rummaged through it. Relief, naturally, came when she mentioned fresh clothes. Relief of two kinds: for adequate protection against the sun, and that Ferelith had not been up to a devious act.

"Thank you," Heike said--if a touch formally.

And she went to the trunk. Crouched down and examined with her good right hand what was available. Most of it was of the smaller variety, meant to fit Ferelith. Other clothes which were larger; a fact which seemed to suggest something, but Heike did not pursue it. Heike settled on a tunic that would be a little tight, but it featured a hood as well, so it would do fine. Heike stood and grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled up and, with some maneuvering, managed to free herself of it with the poor assistance of her still injured left hand. She did not give much thought to doing this in Ferelith's or Szesh's presence. A moment spared to examine wounds scattered across her body--all sealed, but thinly so. She bent over and secured the tunic and slipped it on over her head. Pulled it down. Pushed her arms through the sleeves and secured the belt.

Heike added her old shirt to her coat and her shawl, already in a small pile beside the one bed. The lake, Ferelith had mentioned. After having taken off her shirt and having a brief look at her arms, her sides, her chest, yes, there had been quite a lot of dried blood caked to her skin. She knew that the affliction in her blood (and indeed the affliction in the blood of every vampire) went inert after some time being out of a body. The exact amount of time before the dried blood became "safe?" She did not know. But, if nothing else, Heike did not wish to look the part of a blood-crazed killer. With cleanliness, decorum befitting a knight.

Szesh had...trouble, climbing the latter. Certainly, it wasn't built for Draconians, let alone a Draconian whose scales had become metal. He asked his question.

"Yes," Heike said, "they are now. But...Ferelith and I will need to feed soon. We may need to do this on..." (innocent people) "...we may need to do this if and when the first opportunity presents itself."

Heike was about to sit back down on the bed. Catch another hour or so of sleep, whatever she could to heal that much more, while the full night approached outside.

But something caught her attention. A sound. Heike looked to the Catalysts.

"Szesh...are those...?"

Szesh Ferelith Scathach Kara Orin

 

[Kara Orin]

“Need to get to the forest, first,” said the man riding with Kara and the Orc, “We don’t have a much daylight left.”

Callard, the man was called, was the one assigned to moving the crate with his horse. As the lone tree drew closer, the trio heard…

WAKA

KAKWAKWA​

KAKAKAWAKAWAKA​

The crate vibrated intermittently. It startled Callard and the female orc, named Shamih.

“What?!” Callard exclaimed as his horse jerked at the sudden, new noise.

Both Callard and Shamih looked back at the crate with furrowed brows. However, Kara looked back with wide eyes and gritting teethe. While her companions did not know what was happening, Kara know̨s.

“Move the box back!” Kara yelled at Callard, “Now!”

As his patron for this adventure and the only one that would know magic among the three, Callard listened to Kara and moved himself and the crate back from where they came. He would stop if the crate ceased to make noise.

Silently, Kara scanned the surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Shamih asked. She received no immediate answer.

Kara’s eyes saw rolling grassland of the Reach. The forest’s tree line stood just at the horizon. Some clouds floating in the sky. The lone tree served as the only landmark. The three of them were the only living beings in sight.

Another catalyst buried beneath a tree?

“Callard, hide the chest in the grass. Quick,” Kara commanded.

Callard obeyed.

Then, Kara told them, “We may have gotten lucky again. Come with me.”

With that, the trio rode toward the lone tree.

Heike Eisen Szesh Ferelith Scathach

 

[Szesh]

Szesh nodded his large head as Heike explained their pressing need to feed. It was of no great concern to him who they chose to drain, though he knew Heike did not enjoy it. The least he could do was not place judgement upon her for acting on her own survival.

The vibrations against his leg startled him, and he took a step back. The catalysts were chattering, shaking in their hastily-made sacks. He quickly went to remove them from his belt, taking care not to allow the bags to fall open, and placed them gently but quickly on the floor of the room.

There they lay, rumbling dully against the floor. His scales faded back to their normal silver, and he suppressed a shiver at the sudden change.

His head snapped up towards the door. They were faint, but he could hear voices above. He looked to Heike and even glanced at Ferelith. Without speaking, he took two long strides across the room to a pile of weaponry, and pulled out a round shield and a long curved sword. He did not ask permission from their "host" to begin arming himself, but he considered it repayment for the trouble she'd caused them earlier. He wondered if Ferelith would be able to fight as fiercely as Heike had given that she was newly converted. If so, she would not need his protection.

He strapped the shield to his left forearm, and while the sword's hilt felt small in his hand it would do just fine. Maybe the newcomers would continue on their way.... but he knew that the catalysts' reaction had not been a coincidence. They were unlikely to sleep any more for now.

 

[Heike Eisen]

Heike watched the Catalysts rattle and vibrate there on the floor. The wizard had done something to them, obviously, to allow for them to be close to one another without ill effects--even kept them within relatively close proximity of one another himself back in the tower. And the Catalysts had been perfectly fine for Szesh to carry, both of them practically dangling into one another on his belt. So why now...?

The third Catalyst. The one Szesh had buried. Had someone found it? Could they be tracked, these Catalysts? If so, this would likewise allow for the mages/thieves who had found the third to find the ones Szesh carried.

Szesh began arming himself, and Heike shot a glance over to Ferelith.

She doubted it, but felt it necessary to ask anyway, to exhaust the few options they had. Heike whispered, "Ferelith, is there any other way out of here?"

* * * * *​

The Catalyst in the chest hidden in the grass was close to, but had not quite reached, maximum volatility. The remaining distance between it and the Stabilized Catalysts serving to keep it from going critical.

To keep it from exploding and scouring the surroundings within fifty square meters in devastating raw arcane energy.

Ferelith Scathach Szesh Kara Orin