Fable - Ask Rebirth

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
His words were like a lovers caress against her senses. They were impossible to resist though they made her shudder. She had wanted what he had offered her on that field and as he promised them to her again she found that that desire had not abated. If anything it had grown stronger like a ravenous thirst she would end up gorging herself on.

But there was so much she still didn't understand. Slowly she lifted her head to look up at him.

"Where am I?" Her eyes danced from him to the other monsters in the room like a nervous mouse afraid of being stepped on. "Who are you...People? I want to go home," her last words were a demand and a plea all in one as her eyes returned to the man in front of her.
 
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He looked down at her for a moment. "You are in Reglin. A small village three days from the Bloody Meadows."

That was what they were calling it now.

Reglin had over the last few years emptied itself out. The river nearby had gone dry when a city built a dam over it, and when the Regiment had come upon it the place had been all but abandoned. Now it made for a convenient base.

Though they would abandon it sooner or later. They always did. It was not their lot to have a home.

Slowly Nazara looked down at the girl.

"Us?" He mused. "We are your new family. The only people who will truly understand you."

Nazara said simply, though a smile touched his lips. "You can go home, if that is what you would like."

It was not a lie, there was no need. Harlowe could make the trek back to her city, could see her parents, her family, but the Legion would call to her. Like a string it would wrap around her and slowly tug her back. It always did.
 
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Harlowe detected no lie. His tone was steady, his gaze level, and there was no tell tale twitch of a muscle that would betray his words for what they were. It was the smile though that made her hesitate in believing him. There was something more, something that he wasn't telling her, but she couldn't work out what it was. The sense of freedom his words were meant to give her left her feeling more trapped than before. After a few beats she sighed and closed her eyes, hands running through the now silver strands of her hair.

What would her people do to her if she went home like this?

Her father would understand and be glad to see his child, but her mother and the rest of her village... They would most likely try to burn her at the stake.

"How can I go home like this?" she whispered miserably to herself. Then, another memory through the fog. "It was... it was you," she opened her eyes and looked around with a sudden dawning. "You lot attacked us... you were working for them."
 
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He shrugged. "Of course."

For Nazara there was no moral dilemma, there never would be. Over the years he had fought for 'good', he had fought for 'evil', and throughout it all he had learned a valuable lesson. Both readily committed the same atrocities if it suited them well enough.

"Fate brought us here." He offered by way of explanation. "And your people denied us. The other side did not."

Nazara could still remember the scorn, though it blended with all the others. Some were simply unwilling to pay them, the only cause being what they were. No matter how effective they always proved to be. It wasn't even insulting anymore, not after all this.
 
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Harlowe could only stare at the monster in front of her.

"I..."

What was there to say? She hadn't known they had approached her people and they had been denied but it made sense. If she had still been human she would have probably been proud of the fact they had not debased themselves so but now, here she sat, having sold her soul to become one of them in a fit of weakness. She didn't know what to feel and thus she felt nothing but a hollow emptiness inside of her chest.

She looked away from his endless gaze.

"I'm tired," she hadn't thought vampires got tired but there was no other way to describe the heavy weight of her muscles.
 
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"The change takes a heavy toll." Though Nazara could not remember it himself.

He had seen more than enough to know. More than a few times it had taken a week for someone to get through their transition. Usually it was the larger ones that were the bigger problem. Velak had taken almost a month to come to grips.

Though having ones body turned to stone would do that. "Here."

Nazara said as he offered her a hand.

"I will have Orin come." He was the only other Vampire currently with the Regiment, though a few more that had been turned by the Contract were alive as well. "He can talk you through some of your change."

He told her softly.
 
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Harlowe hesitated and then took the offered hand with care; she had seen what she had done to the door and the wall. It was as he helped her to her feet she realised too that she was still as naked as the day she was born. Though, she thought with a dull sense of humour, in a way this was a birth day of its own. In a detached manner she thought she should feel cold but she felt nothing against her skin. Still, she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered almost out of reflex.

"Who is Orin?" she asked timidly and tugged her hair about her like a protective silver curtain. "The..." she paused, realising she didn't know what that thing had been that woke her. "She... mentioned Orin too. Is he your leader?" The leader of whatever this was. She supposed they were mercenaries. A Monster Mercenary company. Her head reeled at the idea but she couldn't deny the evidence in front of her.

"I still don't understand," she looked at him helplessly.
 
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"No." Nazara said with a light chuckle.

This was always a question, always something that took the longest for the new ones to wrap their heads around. It was not easy gauging such a thing for people who were used to something else. Nazara understood it, remembering having the same thought.

"We have no leader." Not really, not upon this plain. "Not in the sense that you know."

He told her, slowly leading her back towards the room with the Gorgon. "Orin is a Vampire, like you."

Close to it anyway. The contract did not always create exact monsters. Vampires in the world were a spectrum, and the Contract did not allow for just one.

Always there was variety, a reflection of the heart.
 
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Every step felt so slow after the speed at which she had fled down the corridor and it wasn't helped by the fact she felt so weak. Her legs shook and she found herself relying more and more on the demon was they got closer to the door. To focus on putting one step in front of the other and his words was one of her greatest tests yet. Not that what he said made sense anyway, they just brought up more questions. How could an army run without a leader? Who decided to move the group on? Who decided to offer their services to people?

Her head swam.

"I don't understand why... you did this. What do you... get out of it?" he had told her she could go home. Had he really just given her this... new life out of the kindness of his heart? As they reached the now door-less room Harlowe grimaced at its splintered remains on the floor.

"Sorry..." she offered weakly.
 
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"I didn't do anything." Nazara stated plainly.

"I merely offered you a choice." She was the one who had decided to take it. "And you made that decision."

That was how it always worked. The Regiment never forced anyone into service, never pressed them. They offered a bargain with the Devil, and sometimes people took it. Most did not see it that way at first, but it took them time to come to terms with it.

"No one here is Immortal." He said in explanation.

"We die, though a bit more rarely than most men do." Nazara looked down at her. "So from time to time we need recruits. That is what you are."

A shrug rolled over his shoulder. "This place was a ruin long before you."
 
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Every word made sense. Yet they didn't bring her comfort. It would have probably have been easier for her to deal with had he forced the change upon her, or had told her she was condemned to a life of servitude. She could have screamed and raged at him them for tricking her in a moment of weakness. But he offered her none of that. The dark and lonely truth was that she had been weak in the twilight of her Death and she had run from it. She had wanted to live.

Now she was less panicked she could take in the rest of the room. Her cot lay empty but there were two other beds where bodies shimmered. Changing, she realised quietly. On trembling legs she managed to make it back to her bed before collapsing, wrapping the sheets around her for comfort and the memory of warmth.

Quietly she sat there as she mulled this all over.

"What is your name?" she asked eventually, looking up at him from her seated position.
 
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"I am Nazara." He told her quietly, looking down at her for a moment before glancing over towards the Gorgon who was once again situated in the corner.

Her tail was curled beneath her, and the book she had been holding was resting upon it patiently.

"That is Navaia." He said with a gesture towards the Gorgon. "She usually has a...calming effect on those coming out of the transition."

The Gorgon flashed him a look. "It doesn't work on some."

Perhaps because Harlowe was a Vampire, he did not truly know. It was always interesting to see how different people were affected.
 
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Her eyes followed his gesture and she nodded slowly towards the woman. She still made her skin crawl. Nazara at least... looked semi human aside from the eyes of course. But she... well there was no getting away from what she was. Briefly, she wondered what the change had done to her but she wasn't ready yet to see for herself. Would she recognise her own face? Images of vampires from stories came unbidden to her mind and she shuddered, pulling her knees up to her chest.

"Harlowe," she offered her name quietly in return then slowly laid down, still curled into a ball.

So tired...

"My Captain always said I didn't react how others did," it was what had made her unique enough to stand out. She yawned and let her eyes close. After that it was only seconds before she was asleep.
 
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Nazara smiled for a second, looking at Navaia. "At least she didn't try to kill anyone."

The Gorgon let out a laugh, knowing full well that more than a few recruits over the years had done their best to slaughter their fellows. The Shade shook his head, and then pulled himself away from the bed and motioned towards the door.

"I'll find Orin." He told her. "He'll be well pleased."

The Gorgon waved him off.

A few hours later when Harlowe awoke she would find that the other two beds were empty. Night time had settled, and some of the noise of the tavern she had stumbled into was a bit more loud and Raucous. The Gorgon was still situated in the corner, reading her book, but there was now another man sitting on the bed opposite.

He was a lithe figure, his skin pale and his eyes the same tinge of red as her own.
 
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The sound of the crackling fire eased her in to wakefulness and this time she was prepared for the harshness of even dim light. This time it was the enhanced hearing she really noticed. She could actually hear the gorgons slow heart rhythm, the noises down the corridor and even further, outside. It would be overwhelming when there were a lot of people awake.

Tentatively she sat up with a hand against her forehead as if that might somehow stop the world from spinning. However, her nausea was forgotten when she saw it was not just the Gorgon waiting for her to wake. A stifled scream that came out more of a squeak escaped her lips and she dragged the covers up as though they might offer her some protection from an attack.

"Gods, do you all just sit... and wait... to scare people?" she panted, putting a hand over her chest. Of course her heart didn't beat and she let her hand drop with the twisted realisation.
 
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"Well." Orin said with a shrug. "Most of us don't actually need to sleep, so we do a lot of waiting depending on the situation we're in."

A frown touched his lips, and slowly he glanced over towards Harlowe.

She would see him more fully as he shifted on the bed, looking over towards her. Red eyes slowly flickered over her in inspection, as if trying to see what she was. A pleased smile pulled at his lips, fangs slowly revealed as he looked at her. "You really are."

He mused.

"Of course she is! Why would we lie?"[/color[ The Gorgon demanded.

"I don't know!" Orin protested. "It's been years! A fucking century if my math is right."

It probably was.
 
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Harlowe's wide eyes flickered between the pair as they bickered. The fact that such an exchange wasn't at all what she expected from these monsters made the whole thing... stranger. But then Nazara hadn't been what she had expected either. Patient, kind, truthful... they were not the characteristics one attributed to a demon with black eyes. After the initial surprise however it didn't take her long to piece together who this person was.

"Orin, I assume?" she asked wearily and glanced around the room for a sign of some clothing. There was a limit to how many people she wanted to meet for the first time completely naked.

"And I really am what?" Harlowe frowned.
 
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"A vampire!" He said excitedly.

There were few times that the Contract allowed for 'similarities'. No one knew if that was on purpose, or if it was simple happenstance. Neither Orin nor Navaia had certainly ever questioned it. To them life was simply life.

They were what they had become, and that was it. "Yes I am Orin."

He slipped from the bed he had been sitting on and stepped over towards hers.

"Your guide to the unlife." He said with a dramatic flair.

Navaia rolled her eyes. "She isn't a child, Orin."
 
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She might not have fled at the first sign of monsters but that didn't mean she was comfortable with them yet. As Orin stepped towards her she shrank back against the headboard and brought her knees up to her chest.

"I wish people would stop saying that," her eyes squeeze shut.

Every time they named her as such it felt like a nail in the coffin of her old life. She couldn't help but wonder if she would have agreed to the deal if she had known what she would become. Having seen the multitude of creatures that made up the Regiment she knew not all of them were the same. In fact... when she thought on it longer she hadn't seen any two the same not in the battle nor the mess earlier that day.
 
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A frown pulled on Navaia's lips. "Ahh, I understand dear. It takes some time to get used to it."

The Gorgon mused for a moment.

"This life is not one that can be lived easily." There was actual sympathy within her voice. Understanding. She clearly meant what she said. It was strange, to hear such an empathic tone from a being that was undoubtedly the most monstrous Harlow and seen.

"What?" He looked between the two women. "Why?"

Orin frowned. "You realize that you're basically four times what you were as a human, right?"

"Orin!" The Gorgon hissed in rebuke.
 
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"I like, liked, being human," there was an icy edge to Harlowe's tone as her eyes opened. The crimson colour seemed harsher in the dark or it could have been her rising temper. "If I had known it was death or this I-!" her hands balled into fists. The truth was she didn't know what she would have done. Would she have still taken Nazara's deal or would she had embraced death?

She would never know.

Harlowe looked towards the doorway. The demon had told her she was free to go, maybe she would take her chances with her family and if they killed her, well... It would be no more than what she deserved.

"Are you here to tell me drinking blood is wonderful and I won't miss the sun that much anyway?" she continued, sourly.
 
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"What?" Orin said. "No, that would be a lie."

The Gorgon let out a sight, shaking her head but saying nothing else. The Vampire on the other hand seemed to shift, grabbing a chair that had been sitting in the corner of the room and dragging it towards her so that he could sit.

"Drinking blood is...well it depends on the blood." He admitted with a frown.

His head shook.

"The Sun...the Sun I miss though, and you'll miss it too. There's ways to get around that, though it'll never be the same." A sigh escaped Orin. "It's those things that will tear you apart though."

His head shook. "Don't focus on them. You have a new life, a new opportunity. Don't let it slip away."
 
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Harlowe plucked at a fine thread on the blanket she had drawn around her. Before, she would have probably never noticed it it was so small but now it was glaringly obvious to her where the tiny bit of wool had frayed away from the rest. His words only served to make her more melancholy and she could feel her shoulders slumping with the weight of them. Again that odd sensation welled inside of her that she should cry at this point but the tears didn't come.

"What is the point?" she sighed heavily and finally managed to extract the whisper thin thread from the blanket. "Before I had a purpose... a reason to live and now..." no home to defend, no future fit for a woman would be possible either. She couldn't even tell her parents she was alive out of fear of what they would do to her.

"This isn't a life, it is just existing."
 
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Orin shook his head. "That's a stupid way of looking at it."

The Vampire was somewhat dissapointed by the take she had chosen to put onto her situation. It was one that a few of the new recruits often played with. Instead of embracing their new life they chose to wallow within the misery of their old one.

"You are now practically immortal. As long as you don't get beheaded." That wasn't exactly true.

"You can do anything you want." Orin told her. "You aren't constrained by human morality, physicality, being."

He leaned forward in his chair. "You exist, and you exist to enjoy."

That was always how he'd looked at it.
 
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Harlowe flinched at his rebuke and offered him an icy glare in response but she would be lying if his words didn't worm their way into her ears and touch something inside of her. Soldiers were taught to survive by whatever means necessary; kill who needed to be killed, retreat when need be, use the environment around you. Maybe he was right.

But enjoy what?

When she had been about to die it wasn't her parents she had thought of or lamented, it wasn't her friends she had missed. It was the stars. Was that enough to keep her going for a century or more?

Eventually she looked away from him and back at her hands which no longer looked like her hands. Even the scar from an accident when she was a child had been removed. She was... blank.

"I don't know what I want. I've been a soldier for ten years I..." she closed her eyes with a sigh. "I didn't plan for beyond that or... this. I can't even open a door, or run, or..."
 
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