Private Tales Unlikely Alliance

[Iren Brightmane]

The Dungeons
Somewhere in the Land
Eris Amendiares

When they had first caught him feasting on the neck of a very rude soldier he hadn't been worried.
When they managed to overpower him because he hadn't had enough blood in his system he hadn't been worried.
When their sixth attempt to extinguish his eternal flame had failed he hadn't been worried.

He laughed.

When talk began about inviting a cleric? Oh, that's when Iren was starting to get concerned. Especially since he hadn't had any substance in a while. Turpor was settling in and stilling his body. The remaining blood in his body cold, darkened, unmoving. He held himself together by being as still as possible. The less energy Iren spend on moving... the more was available when he'd spring into action.

That's all he needed.

A trickle of blood to consume.

Then he'd punish them all for their insolence.

Just one trickle.

One.

That mantra kept him relatively sane in those dark depths where there was no heat to see except for plague-infested rats scurrying from corner to corner. They were wise enough not to approach his limb body. Even in his reduced state they could practically smell it. Predator. And you didn't wake a predator that was currently in stasis.

Darkened amber eyes flashed open as the trademark sound of thick metal bars unhinging sounded through the corridors.

" Attempt seven?" His disused voice cracked dripping with contempt and sarcastic vigor. It was a wonder Iren could still summon that after everything he had been through.

 

[Eris Amendiares]

It was the usual guards that descended into the dungeons, but they were not alone.

Between the pair of armed men a slender figure wrapped in a dark cloak kept pace with them. The guards were skeptical of the woman in the cloak; they, like many of the men at His Lordship's little court, were suspicious of the woman that had ingratiated herself with the reigning lord. She had come seemingly from nowhere, a dusty traveler claiming to bring tidings to His Lordship, and soon after they had become insufferable. There were rumors that she was a witch, come to ensnare him -- which others had dismissed as unlikely, because though the family had some influence over the larger political sphere, it was neither large nor especially powerful or influential. Others whispered that she was his lover, and sympathetic looks at his aged wife had become commonplace.

Eris Amendiares bristled at the description of herself as a witch. Witch was a word used by ignorant peasants who feared magic and disdained women. The idea of a woman with power was of such discomfort to them they had to imagine stories of children drained of their blood and life essence, of disfigurement and curses hidden behind magic, of demons and devils pulling the strings of corrupted women.

Absurd. Anyone who knew anything knew that it wasn't demons or devils that corrupted and tormented women. It was men.

"Insolence," the guard on Eris' left snarled in reaction to Iren's droll commentary, reaching for his blade. "I will have your tongue if I cannot have your life."

Eris regarded the creature in the cell, emerald eyes impassive beneath her cloak. She was shadowed from his view, the flickering firelight of the dungeon not penetrating her dark hood. She raised a slim hand to forestall the guard. Foolish man. "Leave me," she murmured, though her voice carried with it more than a mere request. The men's eyes went unfocused a moment, then without another word, they retreated.

With a subtle tinkle of some kind of necklace, Eris shifted closer to the bars of the cell, keeping just out of a typical arm's length. Not that she was too worried.

"My, my," said Eris casually. Her voice was foreign, certainly; though she spoke the common tongue, it was with a distinctive accent, reminiscent of spiced honey and warm flatbread. "We are in a mess, hm?"

Iren Brightmane​

 

[Iren Brightmane]

That was a new voice and one that interested Iren keenly.

The taint of magic was in the air. Even in his deprived state he could almost taste it on his tongue. "Oh, are we now?" He purred softly before coughing at the attempt. His throat irritated from disuse and his bodily functions slowing down to accommodate the lack of sustenance.

"Do you also belong on this side of the bars, darling human?"

And yet even as his eyes had closed before, one of them flickered open to take her in. She was... interesting to say the least.

Ill-fitting not just in this dungeon but in this shoddy good-for-nothing court as well.

But Iren remained silent now after his initial riposte. Something told him to be very cautious with what he said in the presence of this human.

Eris Amendiares

 

[Eris Amendiares]

The hooded head canted to one side, and Eris let a little noise of mirth escape her throat. She lowered her hood, revealing glossy black tresses. The light seemed to cascade over her like a rushing river, flickering candlelight as if the motion of lowering her hood had caused a breeze through the dungeons, but that was impossible.

Wasn't it?

"I see the teeth are not the only thing in your mouth that can get you into trouble," Eris said drily, her lilting voice like a gentle spice. "You ought to be more careful, especially around provincial people like these." She gestured vaguely upwards with her hands, an emerald ring catching and throwing a glint of firelight from a ring on her hand. Not unlike her strikingly green eyes.

Lowering her cloak had also exposed her throat, around which she wore something that, at first glance, might have been a poorly-made set of chainmail, links of varying substances wound around her throat in multiple strands. They brushed against one another as she moved, one a vaguely blue opaque haze of sea glass, another a faintly glowing fire stone, a third burled wood, sometimes multiple rings of the same substance in a row, sometimes a different for a string of a dozen at a time.

"Soon or late they will find a way to do the job permanently," said Eris, folding her arms over her chest. "They are provincial, but they're not hopelessly stupid." Eris regarded Iren carefully, eyebrows furrowing a little. "What do you want from this family?"

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eris Amendiares

"Every one of us deserves a fatal sin or two, don't we?" He murmured absently while studying the image in front of him. He wasn't yet sure she was real. Being deprived of food had a way of making one delirious. Just the previous night Iren had vividly imagined a walking steak in front of his prison bars. Who said that this wasn't the same thing but just in a more pleasant shape?

"What does anyone want? To feel respected... loved... powerful..." Iren purred absently while shifting in his seated position.

The salted iron sizzled against his skin and made him hiss as contact conducted burn.

"But you are new." The vampire declared while looking her up and down. "And you are certainly not from around here. You are too fancy... too high. What do you want from this family?"

Could this be an opportunity to avoid the swinging sword or the impaling stake?

Iren didn't dare to hope for too much. Part of him had already made peace with the inevitable conclusion of his sorrowful tale. But the predator within always sought for chances. It would rip its own arm off if it meant to live for another day.

He wondered if he'd have to rip a limb off himself today.

 

[Eris Amendiares]

Eris wrapped her arms around her slender midsection, causing the links to tinkle and bumble against one another. She frowned thoughtfully, regarding the man through the metal bars, taking in the totality of the circumstances before her. She knew what he was, of course, and it didn't take the ghoulish stories of the man gnawing on the jugular vein of some poor hapless guard to say so. All the signs were there, if one knew where to look for them...

"Perhaps you will come to learn of my motivations," said Eris enigmatically as she took a step towards the door. Was it the dim candlelight dancing in her emerald eyes, or was there some kind of subtle glow to them? A gentle curve graced her lips, tugging the edges upwards. Sardonic. "For now," she murmured, her voice like chili-infused honey, exotic and foreign and warm, "you will have to settle, regrettably, for my attention."

Her mind went to the family in their modest castle above them. The corpulent father whose indulgent lifestyle made him seem twenty years older than his fifty-eight. The long-suffering mother, in her late forties, her golden hair frosted attractively with silver, and who had decided since she was beyond her childbearing years that it was safe to dally with a household knight. The son, struggling to make a name for himself against the overbearing incompetence of his father. A pair of pretty daughters, twins, buxom and blonde.

"That doesn't answer my question, particularly," the sorceress said quietly, thoughtfully, her green eyes settling on Iren heavily. "What do you want from this family? They are... shall we say, to put it simply, under my protection. But if there is some arrangement to which we can agree, well... I'll see what I can do."

Iren Brightmane

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

"This region has a number of ruins that were of interest to me." He finally said once the surprise seeped down. "While spending my time here, I wanted to take their loyalty to ensure I wouldn't be disturbed and to have a steady supply of food for myself."

A soft shrug.

"You can see how that went." Amusement in his wry tone. "This family is hardly worth the effort for the likes of you however."

Looking her over once more.

"But I suppose you already said you won't tell me. What sort of arrangement are you considering?" Tone now tainted with mild suspicion. It was mostly an act really. Whatever this woman wanted, he'd at least feign being willing to give it to her.

Freedom came before dignity.

Because dignity could always be conquered afterwards.

Eris Amendiares

 

[Eris Amendiares]

"You must learn to listen as well as you speak," said the sorceress, a hint of mirth behind her eyes, her lips twitching up even more. Amused, but dangerous, like a bow being drawn. "I said you may come to learn of my motivations. But first I must know whether you can be trusted, or whether I should tell these backwater fools exactly how to dispose of you once and for all."

A delicate pause hung in the air between them, pungent like the smoke of incense, curling strands unseen.

Then, a sharp intake of breath. "My... associates ...well, suffice it to say that they are interested in your kind. Contributing some certain knowledge to their almanacs would do much for me. This would be information about your people generally, not about Specimen No. 187: Sad Little Man In A Sad Little Cell. In other words, they -- my associates or anyone else, for that matter -- would not be able to trace you from the information I'm interested in."

She paused, paced away from the bars, then paced back. "My time in this castle is drawing to a close. I've more or less done what I've come here to do, if no one meddles in my affairs." Oh yes, the ball had been rolling some time now, but these things could be delicate, and not left unattended until it was moving with such momentum as to be nigh unstoppable.

"So," Eris said flatly. "I will be moving on soon. The question is whether I will be doing that alone. Should we make an agreement? And before you agree, you should know that I have ways of protecting myself, if you find yourself overcome with... need." She turned her verdigris gaze on him intently, no threat there.

Only promise.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Truthfully he was a bit too out of there to really grasp what she was saying.

That wasn't her fault or his fault, but it didn't matter.

What came next did matter however. It surprised Iren greatly. Not the fact that mages (he assumed they were mages, or alchemists) were interested in his kind. That wasn't too surprising. No, that this would be his ticket out of here.

"I..." A blink there and he forced himself to look at least marginally conflicted about it. "Would any of this research result in my bodily harm?"

Ironic question considering he was in a cell slated for execution, but you needed to at least try and discuss these things before you gave yourself up to a scary emerald-green woman.

He tilted his head however at the last portion.

"Fret not, my Lady, I only sink my teeth into things I wish to sink my teeth in. I can fully control my hunger... unless I am starving, but I don't suspect we would allow for it to go that far, yes?"

 

[Eris Amendiares]

The Sorceress drew herself up to her full height and she regarded the man curiously from outside the cell. "Research -- real research, whatever others may call it -- seldom results in bodily harm. Though I do find it rather precious that you'd worry about that, given what you did to that poor guardsman..." She brushed the pads of her four fingers against her thumbs briefly, as if brushing something distasteful from her hands.

Eris stopped grooming her hands and tucked them behind her back. "To answer your question: I will not harm you, unless you make me. I am being candid with you in hopes that you understand that I do not bluff or dissemble on matters such as these. If you try to harm me or interfere with my business I will put a stop to it. But otherwise, no."

The Sorceress paced to one side, scanning him through the bars of the cell before turning back again toward the door. She produced her hands once more from behind her back and pressed her fingers together for a brief moment -- just the index and middle fingers of each hand, at an almost right angle. She adjusted them subtly, this way and then that, pushing, testing, drawing, pressing, and --

The lock clicked open. With a subtle push -- but yet without actually touching the metal -- the door swung open with low creak. Dangerous, perhaps, but the beast was still restrained in a way that was much safer than the iron door of the cell could provide in his current state.

She stepped closer, the subtle scent of jasmine preceding her into Iren's presence. "So... have we some understanding?" she asked him, before crouching down a pace from him, meeting him on his level, but with a harness of magic ready to boil his blood if he so much as brandished a fang in her general direction. It was a specialty of hers; the blood amber link on her chain close to her throat was its testament.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eris Amendiares

He shrugged lightly.

"It is perfectly sensible to worry about your own survival over the survival of others, my Lady. I believe that makes me more human rather than less." Iren did not have illusions about what horrid little creatures humans could be.

Sure, there were good ones too, but there were (presumably) good vampires out there as well.

One did not preclude the other.

He watched her carefully as the door opened up. Gauging the distance between them... sadly he was chained in place or Iren could have leaped onto her and rend her dainty neck with his teeth. Then they'd see who would be in a bargaining position.

"But of course, my Lady." A sheer contrast between his thoughts and what he was saying. "My freedom in return for your research that will not result in my harm, how could I ever protest such a fair bargain?" He smiled there as he offered her his chained wrists.

"Will you take these off? The iron is really itching on my skin... I promise I will behave."

 

[Eris Amendiares]

"No," said Eris quietly. "It is not the right time. You will feed first."

The woman turned and left the cell, returning to the guard outpost. She harnessed the power, touching and tugging and weaving magic into her already considerable efforts at manipulation, seduction, and coercion. The long and short of it was that, a minute later she returned with one of the guards whose eyes were unfocused, crossed, as if looking in all directions at once.

"You will not kill him," Eris told Iren firmly. "He will live and tell his counterparts that he freed you and fed you of his own accord. A corpse cannot do that. You understand?"

Eris prodded the guard forward gently, until he was nearly within reach of the vampire. He would only get his little treat when he had agreed to her terms.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eris Amendiares

He smiled a bloodless smile.

"Of course." Eris was... very wise. The moment she would have unshackled him, he would have thrown himself at her. He recognized some of her jewelry. Loaded with magics that he could feel even with his potential suppressed by the iron and salt.

It wouldn't have mattered.

Everyone was an animal if you looked at it from a base line. He would have leaped because the animal inside of him was hungry and damn the consequences.

"I will not kill him." Iren purred warmly as he smiled wider at Eris. "But you may need to offer me a second guard after the first. I haven't fed in a while, my Lady. Do not underestimate the depths of my hunger." Then he glanced at the guard and back at her.

His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"I really hope you are not expecting me to bite him. Does the guard station have my cup? And a knife? I much prefer drinking from a glass like a civilized being, you know."

 

[Eris Amendiares]

Eris's green eyes were nearly glacial as she regarded the vampire, clearly unimpressed. It was slightly demeaning to be spoken to as if she were a tavern wench and these guards were morsels she was fetching for rowdy guests. After a moment, her eyes hardened. "Very well," she said coolly. "But let's be quick about it."

She left the guard standing there, dazed, completely unable to think for himself. She returned a few moments later with the second guard in a similar state and a small, reasonably dull knife and what Eris could only presume was his cup -- the only cup in the custodial belongings chest.

"You try anything with that knife and it will be the last thing you do," Eris warned Iren coolly as she handed it to him, handle first. She wasn't terribly skilled with healing, it was true, but she could probably save herself while harnessing a weave to freeze his blood.

Probably.

She handed over the cup too, then prodded the guardsmen forward. "I'll be outside. Tell me when you're ready to be unshackled." And Eris turned, wrapped herself in her cloak, and left the cell. There would be plenty of time to observe the vampire, but his consumption of blood was one thing she wasn't sure she needed to see up close.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eris Amendiares

She was annoyed by it.

Probably not a wise course of action to aggravate his hero, but it were the little things that kept him sane. Kept him... him. If Iren had simply rolled over and played dead for his newest friend he would not have been Iren Brightmane.

And if you lose your identity what is your life truly worth?

A handful minutes later a new and invigorated Iren stepped out of the cells. A bounce in his steps, a smile on his face as he used his thumb to clear out a little bit of crimson texture at the corner of his mouth.

He slid his thumb between his lips for a soft suck as Iren watched Eris curiously.

"I am ready to be unshackled, my Lady." Murmured quietly and Iren did seem actually calmer now. More focused and in control. No longer the caged animal... if still rather shackled for the moment. "I have left the guards behind, alive, as you requested."

Iren glanced around the place for a moment as he held out his wrists for her.

"Will I be able to enjoy a bath? I pride myself in my grooming and sadly I have not had the chance lately."

 

[Eris Amendiares]

"Are you always such a Duchess?" Eris asked waspishly. Here she was giving this beast his freedom back -- well, his freedom after a fashion because being indebted to a member of her order (whether one knew one was or not) wasn't without its... restraints -- and now he was demanding his cup, his knife, his bath. "We're a few hours' ride from the next town big enough for a bath, so you'll just need to keep it together until then."

The truth was, Eris could have used a bath herself -- but even her power had its limits.

She took his manacles in her delicate hands. Was it her imagination, or was there a warmth radiating from his skin that had been absent moments before? She glanced up into his face briefly, then focused her attention on the manacles and harnessed the power. Her skill in metalwork allowed her to sense and manipulate the mechanisms that held them shut. They sprang open and dropped to the floor in a clatter. One of the guards flinched listlessly, but otherwise all else was silent for a beat. Then, Eris cocked her head towards the open cell door.

"With me," she told Iren Brightmane sternly. "There are horses waiting."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Eris Amendiares

"You will find, my Lady, that once you are transformed into a blood-sucking monstrosity you must hang onto certain ideas of civility and grace." He purred in return, in no way insulted... at least not visibly. "If I must act as an animal to gain my substance, I can at the very least conduct myself with proper refinement."

Because if he allowed himself to act a monster... he'd embrace its very nature.

And on the other side was not a well-spoken groomed Iren. It was a beast that would carve its way from alley to alley until an entire city was empty of life.

Or he'd find himself staked.

Perhaps both.

He rubbed his wrists as she unshackled him. And no, it was no imagination. Iren already looked different. More... alive. The paleness disappearing, the eyes turning from bloody red to pleasant orange. There was even a spring in his step and his posture improved.

"As you wish, my Lady." Bowing there and brokering no further discussion about 'baths'. He had been planning on asking for a hair brush, but something told him that would receive the same sort of icy recipient as the bath question gained.

Iren knew a lost cause when he saw one.

He followed along and wonder above wonder they did not meet anyone else on the way there. As if they side-stepped into a separate reality, overlayed and near, but with each step always just missing a servant or a guard or someone important.

Was this the Magi's work or was it mere coincidence? Iren did not know and did not ask. You didn't look a gifted horse in its mouth lest you wished to be without fingers.

The horses became agitated at the sight of Iren, but he cooed at them, purring softly under his breath... and they noticeably calmed down. "They require some settling, but eventually... they will drop their guard around me." Iren murmured to Eris with a beautiful smile... if not for the sharpened teeth.

And it sounded like he wasn't just speaking of horses and other assorted animals.

 

[Eris Amendiares]

Eris' cloak nearly billowed behind her as they stalked the corridors until, at last, they emerged into the dungeon stable yard. She glanced at Iren, noting that the horses seemed spooked until the vampire made little cooing noises at them. "Does that work on people, too?" she asked with a smirk as she approached her horse. Both horses were powerful stallions -- Iren's, black and stolen from the Lord's stables, and hers, a beautiful Bay named Jinx.

She stroked Jinx's nose, making a soft clicking noise with her cheek and teeth, leaning forward to press a gently kiss to his nose. "Good boy. Good boy. Safe." The horse lowered his head and Eris brushed his dark mane away from his face. "Are you ready?" She produced an apple from her pocket and tore it in twain, handing one to Iren and offering the other up to Jinx who, after a cursory look and a slightly reproachful whinny -- perhaps in affront at being offered half an apple as opposed to his typical whole apple -- he took it from her hand.

"We haven't much time," Eris told Iren. "Do you need help into the saddle?"

The sorceress put one boot into the stirrup and hauled herself up and over, landing delicately astride Jinx. She made it look effortless, and rearranging her cloak so that it settled around her and along Jinx's back was a trivial matter. She was prepared to provide the vampire a lift if he needed one -- it was a simple matter of harnessing a bit of air to boost him into the saddle -- but she would have preferred to conserve her energy.

Harnessing was not difficult work, generally, but it took concentration and energy. She had performed some manner of complicated magic that night and though she wouldn't have confessed it to the vampire -- lest he get any ideas about whether she was compromised enough to be considered a tasty snack -- she was a bit tired. Mind control and false memories were particularly grueling feats, after all.

"We ride north," she told Iren once he was, one way or another, in his saddle. "Just on the other side of that ridge," at this she pointed into the distance, at the mountain ridge poking out above a distant forest, "is where we're heading. There's a pass that will take us a little out of the way, but until they invent a horse that can fly, it's our best option. Questions?"

Iren Brightmane