A Neonate's Journey

[Seneschal]

A NEONATE’S JOURNEY



Chapter One



With a snarl, Cassandra strode away from the bloody scene. She had been set upon by rival mercenaries in an alleyway off of King’s Avenue and had needed to unleash her full, vampiric strength upon them. The neonate Lahmian disdained giving in to her new nature, despised it even. Her freehand was bathed in crimson life, the aftermath of having clawed at her attackers’ flesh. They had all fallen, all of the members of Dark Beryl’s gang had met their match against a newly made thrall that was also a bitter enemy before being given the Blood Kiss.

She wandered in the rain-soaked streets of Middenheim, keeping her bloody hand hidden beneath her cloak. Her jagged sword was sheathed at her hip, the weapon now only seeing occasional use. Cassandra slowly flexed her claws, they had made quick work of Dark Beryl and his ragtag group. She willed them to retract and her hands were once more what passed for “normal.” Her tongue ran over her fangs, feeling their sharp, pointed ends. They were another weapon in her new arsenal although she couldn’t bring herself to use them quite yet, they been reserved for feeding and only then when she couldn’t sup from a goblet in her mistress’ estate.

Cassandra had been a mortal sellsword up until the previous week when a petite aristocrat named Esmerelda le Croix, claiming to have need of her skills, approached her. A brief conversation in a dimly lit café led to an invitation to the woman’s coach (which Cassandra noted was blacker than night and gave off a strange air of uneasiness). Once the thin-as-a-rail coachman set the unearthly strong steeds to gallop, Cassandra had but a second to see the flash of fangs in the moonlight. She was a good duelist and quick on the draw but in comparison to the tiny woman, her attempt to defend herself was like that of a garden slug reacting to a tomcat. She awoke in a sumptuous boudoir where everything seemed to be some shade of red. The petite woman sat upon a divan across from her in the expansive room, her nose in the air. Cassandra felt at her neck, feeling the telltale marks of a vampire’s bite. She shuddered and began to shake, she was now one of the living dead, a creature of the night!

“Welcome, youngling,” her hostess said in a voice that was equal parts purring cat and stern overlord, “welcome to my court.”

Lady Esmeralda first assured her that any attempt at revenge would meet with utter failure and that she was far outnumbered and outclassed in the grandiose mansion. The aristocrat laid out Cassandra’s future: she was now a thrall in her service and would be given more freedoms as time went by provided Cassandra pleased her with her efforts.

The thrall had heard of the Lahmian sisterhood long ago, the willowy, quick as lightning “living” vampires whose origins and base of power were said to be in far off desert lands. Having been a mercenary for ten years, she’d heard her share of tales both tall and true and the presence of the Lahmians was one she had always believed in, the dark streets and outskirts of the empire being littered with evidence of the undead. Now, she was one of them, swift as a lightning bolt and as alluring and seductive as the most seasoned temptress. These were the gifts of the bloodline and she would use them on her mistress’ enemies as ordered.

Cassandra’s gaze shifted to the blood coating her hand, the smell of it, the feel of it. It was sustenance and she had no choice now but to partake of the crimson fluid every night forever. She leaned in and licked it from her fingertips, feeling it flowing through her body, the coppery taste reminding her somewhat of the tangy sensation of pomegranates on her tongue. Becoming a vampire was not something she’d ever wanted but now that it had been thrust upon her, she would make the absolute most of her gift…or curse…however she would grow to view it. Her senses were heightened and her body was more resilient than ever. No other mercenary was her equal. Cassandra’s speed was greater than that of the finest of Middenheim’s warriors and her vampiric mental powers could strike any mortal foe dumb with awe and admiration.

Yes, she would obey Lady Esmerelda, she’d be servant, for now, but if one day her mistress somehow ran afoul of witchhunters who’d been informed by an anonymous source…

She allowed herself a crooked smile before gathering her cloak about her once more and walking off into the night, her hunger sated.

 

[Unas the slayer]

Ah, new blood for the fan fiction subforum! i'll follow this.

 

[Seneschal]

Chapter Two



Having been recalled back to the mansion by her mistress, Cassandra had spent the next few weeks forced to endure a fate more detestable than she had ever experienced: lessons in etiquette. Courtly functions were no place for a mercenary raised on the streets of Middenheim but the new thrall had no choice but to serve the whims of Lady Esmerelda and the Countess wanted her to be taught the ways of a proper Lahmian. To be one of the Sisterhood, an education in courtly life, manners and the intricate arts of seduction was required. Cassandra would’ve retched if she could have. Her enhanced senses and speed were wonderful gifts but to go from being a warrior to a glorified spy was beneath one of her skills. She often wondered why her mistress had given her the Blood Kiss, it remained a rather odd mystery to her.

“Basil Steele” Lady Esmerelda began, sipping from an overly elegant, jewel-encrusted glass, “What have you learned of him, childe?”

Cassandra stood before the elder vampire. She had recently returned from a small social gathering at a speakeasy in the bowels of the city, a seedy locale full of nefarious types who indulged in various illegal substances. Her target for the evening had been Basil Steele, a nobleman believed to be a war profiteer thanks to his family’s control of several steel mines and blacksmith shops. Cassandra fidgeted with her the edges of her black and gold bodice, trying to appear as dainty and “proper” as she could in the eyes of her mistress.

“The rumors are true, mother,” Cassandra replied, “House Steele has been secretly involved in the transport of illegal arms to rebel factions in Stirland and Sylvania. Lord Basil himself can also not confirm this but he believes his father also had dealings with chaos cultists somewhere outside the city.”

Lady Esmerelda raised an eyebrow and lowered her drink. She swirled her glass and absently tapped the edge of the divan she lay upon, “Chaos cultists? Any more information as to who they serve?”

“None, mother” Cassandra replied, looking down at her heeled boots. How she detested the existence of a Lahmian! “His sources would point them to be somewhere north. That is all that could be gleaned from his mind.”

“Mmm. By you, childe,” the elder smugly said into her glass, “As you grow stronger, you will gain more of our mental skills although that won’t be for quite some time.”

Cassandra clenched her teeth for a moment, the insult stung but to show irritation to one’s sire in the world of the vampire could invite disaster.

“Did you take notice of how your sisters performed?” Esmerelda asked, narrowing her gaze.

“I…did not, mother” Cassandra replied, perplexed as to why such a question was asked. She had her task and they had theirs, why would she pay any attention to what the others in the court were doing on such an important mission?

“I want you to keep an eye on Trina,” Esmerlda explained, “when you ladies are sent on your next outing, watch her as best you can without compromising your duty for the evening or giving yourself away. Your task will be two-fold next time, childe. Do well and there will be a reward.”

Cassandra looked at the elder vampire, surprised she would put so much trust into a novice such as herself…or was this a test as well…?

“It will be done, mother,” she said with a slight bow in her tight bodice.

“Good to hear, childe. Head to the dungeons and tell Brak to let you spar with the wights. Take your time as well, I know how much you enjoy brutish combat. Oh, but remain in the ensemble that currently adorns you, a Lahmian must be prepared for anything after all.”

“I thank you mother for your generosity,” Cassandra replied with a small smile. She turned away and strode toward the stairwell, the many enthralled guards barely paying her any heed. After descending the spiral stairs, she came upon the fetid, rat-infested dungeons. The low moans of mindless undead trapped behind the various cells reached her ears as did the clanking of chains restraining the handful of monstrous beasts held in captivity.

Cassandra saw Brak the burly key master bowing his head in her direction. She waved off the gesture and gave him a warm smile punctuated by the tips of fangs on crimson lips, “I am to spar with the wights,” she intoned cooly.

Brak gave a deliberate nod. His black skullcap covered most of his features but Cassandra was able to see the telltale marks of several scars beneath the leather. He had been a warrior at some point in his life from what she had gathered. What twist of fate had led him into Esmerelda’s service?

Unlocking one of the cells, Brak stepped away. Cassandra drew her blade and bade the Grave Guard to come forth. The shambling wights obeyed, armed and armored to the teeth and ready for a sparring session. They made their way to a training room down the lefthand passage and stood before the vampire.

Cassandra saluted them with her blade and met the five wights in combat. This was where she could feel like her old self again and she relished each and every moment of it.

 

[Seneschal]

CHAPTER THREE



An aura of deathly cold emanated from the ancient grave guard. Had Cassandra been a living human, her teeth would be chattering in protest and her body would shake like an oak leaf in a storm. They had once been mighty warriors in their time, the bodyguards of kings and nobles. In another life, another time, Cassandra herself may have ended up like them. She was keenly aware of that fact but didn’t dwell on it. She was a member of the august Sisterhood, the true Aristocracy of the Night. She was destined for greatness even if she still hated her vampiric nature.

The wights attacked with their enchanted blades. Cassandra parried the three in her immediate field of vision before ducking the fourth and dodging the fifth on her flanks. Her lightning quick speed made it all far too easy but the night was young, this was merely a warmup, an appetizer before a bit of proverbial spice was added to her sparring session.

She struck the closest wight with her blade, severing its left arm before slashing through its fleshless jaw. Cassandra spun about, her supernatural instincts warning her of a dual pronged attack from two of the grave guard. Her sword sang through the air and stabbed through the armor of the first, dropping it immediately. The second nearly clipped her arm but she shifted to the side and took out one of its legs from under it.

From the corner of the room, she saw the hunched over form of Waldemar, one of the human necromancers in the employ of her mistress. The gaunt figure was garbed in a faded purple robe with a black cloak hanging from his thin shoulders. A staff cut from the fallen branch of a living treeman lay in his grimy hand as he whispered unintelligible words and moved his fingers about in arcane patterns. A chill breeze surged about him and flowed into the defeated grave guard, reassembling their broken forms.

Cassandra felt the flow of magic in the air. She, like all vampires, relished the touch of necromancy, feeling every bit of the dark energy move through the room as it caused her sparring partners to stand once again before her, ready for another round of combat. The way the dark arts made her undead body feel was one pleasure she allowed herself, loathing nearly everything else about her new form.

The gems hanging from Waldemar’s necklace glowed in the torchlight as he watched the neonate raise her sword in salute once more. He had been asked by Lady Esmerelda what he thought of her and his response was clinical, as it always was, “An elite bodyguard. More skilled than most thralls. Her value to you is high, Mistress.”

“Cast Vigour if you would, Waldemar,” Cassandra commanded, seeking a greater challenge.

The necromancer soundlessly performed the somatic components needed for her requested spell, finishing off with a flourish of crypt dust thrown in the air. As a result, the grave guard now nearly possessed the quickness of a lahmian! They engaged the vampire with frighteningly powerful sword strokes, blows whose ferocity and speed could decimate a retinue of Carrosburg Greatswords in but minutes!

Cassandra grinned in approval and resumed her sparring session, taking to her enhanced opponents with an enthusiastic battlecry. As a lahmian, she still had long to go in terms of etiquette and demeanor but as a lieutenant for one of her Mistress’ subordinates, her swordplay and prowess marked her as more than ready to march on a battlefield with her newfound vampiric abilities.

And that was a fact Waldemar would share with Lady Esmerelda.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

It has taken me far too long to find this Seneschal, but glad I did! Excellent start, I like the intrigue you've already generated on why Cassandra was chosen considering her nature, and how she dislikes the approaches Lahmians take I look forward to the next instalment!

Oh and I did notice this amusing spelling error in the first post:

These were the gits of the bloodline

This just made me think of little pointy toothed goblins scurrying around!

 

[Seneschal]

But...but...but they ARE little green goblins vampires!!

Lolz good catch, boss!

Thanks for commenting, I greatly appreciate you taking time to read the first few chapters. It really means a lot to me. I've got things planned out 'til chapter ten and it will kick into high gear soon!

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

But...but...but they ARE little green goblins vampires!!

Got to admit, this really makes me want to create a little unit of gobbo thralls, can image them acting almost like little emo gobbos, all angry and argumentative!

No worries on the reply, genuinely enjoyed it and it's giving me a bit of a kick to get posting some of my own fluff again

 

[Seneschal]

CHAPTER FOUR





“Oh, don’t say such things, Basil,” Cassandra purred, leaning towards the noble’s left ear, “I find men of your stature and size to be completely satisfying!”

The short man nearly choked on his liquor. The attractive young woman sat beside him on his plush couch imported from L’Anguille. The intricately detailed pillows he lay upon had come from far-off Ind and had cost a pretty penny. Currently, one of those pillows lay nestled between the woman’s knees as she turned sideways to curl up against him. Basil Steele felt his pulse quicken with each passing minute. He’d been used to women fawning over him due to his wealth and influence but the dark-haired, corseted beauty who now shared his company set his desire aflame like no other. Her words had become increasingly suggestive as the conversation continued. Basil felt lighter than the softest pillow in his mansion each time she complimented him, his defenses lowering under her gentle gaze.

The minstrels played an intimate tune, a song popularized in Carcassconne whose lyrics spoke of a tryst between star-crossed lovers deemed unfit for each other by the outside world. Their story climaxed with the pair running away and spending their lives wherever they wished, indulging in whatever stroked their fancy. Lord Steele found the number to be particularly appealing when amongst appropriate company, like he was now.

His other guests mingled about the large room, sharing stories, sampling his wines and making merry. The woman by his side had arrived with a few other young ladies, courtesy of Esmerelda le Croix who had been a valuable business partner in providing several evenings’ entertainment.

If Cassandra could gag, she would. The reluctant Lahmian played her role and was becoming more apt at using her feminine wiles to procure information from her targets but hated every moment of it. Having done so well with Lord Steele before, she had immediately sauntered over to him upon arriving at his mansion, making sure her curvaceous form was accentuated with each movement. The corset and stockings felt suffocating and her tulle sleeves made her feel vulnerable as they’d be a hindrance if she found herself in a scuffle.

Her eyes ran across the room to rest on Trina, the Lahmian whom her mistress wished her to keep an eye upon. Trina was busy working over not one but two men, she was simply that good. One was a corrupt city guard and the other an even more corrupt judge. Both of them were wrapped around the finger of the enticingly alluring Trina. She was the prettiest of her sisters, blonde and Brettonian. The other Lahmians were jealous of her for all three. Trina was particularly brazen this evening, moving their hands over and around her while slowly untying her own blood red corset. Cassandra’s ears picked up their conversations when she focused on them. So far, she’d heard nothing spoken against their mistress or anything threatening the vampires’ shared secret.

“Tell me, my dear,” Basil said with slurring speech that was quite unbecoming of him, “why is it you won’t join me in a bit of liquor or any other beverage of your choosing? I have a fine vintage from Middenheim you simply must sample!”

Cassandra caressed his cheek with one finger and smiled a toothy smile, eyes of the dead locked on his own rheumy orbs, “I never drink…wine.”

Lord Steele snickered, “You’re missing out, my dear. Now, what were we speaking of…?”

“Those strange men meandering about the north” the vampire lied.

Basil searched his wandering mind, piecing together their conversation although his thoughts were heavily influenced by the Lahmian. At last, he recalled the chaos cultists that had been a part of his family’s business dealings since his father’s time, “Yes, them. Uncouth sort.” He shivered, “What would you like to know?” he leaned in, eyes below her neckline. She placed a finger to his lips, stopping him from going any further, “All the little tidbits of information you can share with me…will go towards a most…rewarding experience later.”

Grabbing the liquor bottle, Basil hurriedly poured himself another drink. He downed nearly half of it in one swig while Cassandra fought the urge to grimace.

The doors to the room were kicked open and a flurry of movement was visible in the dimly lit chamber. Soldiers of the Empire rushed in led by a cadre of witchunters!

“Cleanse this place of vampiric influence my brothers!” one of the newcomers, a middle-aged man with a tall leather hat, long coat and silver saber shouted.

The Lahmians and their human companions were shocked by the intrusion, giving the hunters a momentary advantage. Two of the sisters fell in the first few seconds, long blades beheading them with swift efficiency.

Casandra leapt from the couch, eyeing a pair of swords crossed over the hearth. The enemy had the numbers and the weapons but she and her sisters had the speed and strength. It would be a bloody battle and she looked forward to it with a fearsome grin. Baring her fangs, Cassandra lunged for the blades and prepared for a desperate battle.

 

[Unas the slayer]

An unexpected turn of events!

 

[Seneschal]

CHAPTER FIVE



Tearing off her tulle sleeves, Cassandra pounced into the fray. She wielded the two heavy longswords that had been displayed atop the hearth, slashing through an empire soldier with great relish. Her vampiric strength made it possible to dual wield such blades which was normally a highly impractical concept for a human. Now, they may as well have been daggers in her hands, her undead strength making them feel light as feathers.

The witch hunters set fire to the curtains, blocking the vampires’ means of escape. They worked with deadly efficiency, surrounding each Lahmian five to one, harrying the vampires from all directions.

Cassandra would not be surrounded. She’d dueled and brawled with the best the empire of men had to offer and was not impressed with this crop of warriors. Her swords connected with the neck of another soldier, ending his threat before turning on another, impaling him with her other blade.

“Surround that one, brothers!” the lead witch hunter commanded, pointing directly at her, “She is the deadliest of them!”

“Yes, come and face me!” Cassandra laughed, “For I am a merchant of death and it has been far too long since I’ve pedaled my wares!!”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Lady Esmerelda rushing into the room from behind the witch hunters, eyes red with anger, fangs bared. She tore into the leader’s bodyguards, sending them into the great beyond with unbridled ferocity. The lead witch hunter leapt away from her, recognizing the noblewoman from a description given to him…

“Mistress!” Cassandra shouted.

Esmerelda gave her a curt nod before rushing to a beleaguered vampire’s side, pulling her away from a trio of hunters, “I’d been watching the mansion from afar. These blasted fools could not have known about us without a traitor being in our midst!”

Cassandra parried two hunters’ blades as she pondered Esmerelda’s words, ‘Which one of the men could it have been?’ Her eyes raked over the pitiful nobles who cowered from the battle in various states of undress, their infidelities laid bare before the hunters.

Esmerelda shielded another of her thralls from attack and gutted her enemy with her razor-sharp talons, her face taking on a more bat-like countenance as battle lust took over. She pushed another hunter away and reached for Trina, pulling her from danger toward her sisters behind her.

Trina struck swiftly, stabbing Esmerelda in the throat! She sliced nearly clean through her progenitor’s neck and let her body fall, dark blood staining the priceless antique rug.

Although she had wanted her dead since her transformation, Cassandra felt a protective instinct take over upon seeing her mistress nearly decapitated. Perhaps it was seeing her rushing to their aid when she could have left them to their fate that made her feel the way she did? Her blades shook in her hands witnessing the betrayal, “TRINA! NO!!” Fiery rage filled the former mercenary. She let her bestial nature take over and growled at the men surrounding her. She became a whirlwind of steel and vengeance, cutting down two more of her foes before rushing toward her mistress.

Trina gave a soft chuckle as the flames scorched the ceiling then sauntered past the leader of the witch hunters who let her pass unscathed!

“YOU BETRYAED US!!” Cassandra shouted, “FACE ME!!”

Her eyes went to the two vampires that Esmerelda had tried to save. They were now beset by three hunters and a handful of guardsmen. Moments later, both were dust, slain by the superior number of enemies.

Cassandra changed direction and grabbed Esmerelda, lifting her dying mistress as she watched the last of her sisters fall from across the room. The hunters turned their attention toward her. The odds were stacked heavily against her and the vampire countess that had brought her into the world of the undead.

Cassandra never cared for the odds. She hefted her mistress’ small body and ran full speed toward the door before the hunters locked it. With one hand free, she cut the first man down, slicing through the side of his neck. Her kick splintered the heavy door and she ran for all she was worth down the hallway.

Skipping along but twenty feet away was Trina, oblivious to what was running toward her like a raging storm. At the last moment, she turned and saw a very angry Cassandra swing at her with a borrowed weapon. Trina flinched and did her best to evade the blow, but ended up with a savage cut across her abdomen. A purse tied to her waist came free and its contents spilled out.

Shrieking in terror, the blonde vampire ran away, breaking through the nearest glass window toward the ground below.

Cassandra’s eyes briefly ran over the treasures Trina had dropped and one caught her eye. It looked like a precious gem in her mistress’ collection. Blood red in color, its facets uncannily resembling an heirloom of Lady Esmerelda, Cassandra grabbed it with lightning speed and continued her mad escape from the men of the empire. She crashed through a different window, still clutching Esmerlda tightly. The former mercenary ran and ran, hoping the night would swallow them up before the hunters caught her trail.

She moved through a fetid alleyway where homeless citizens slept against stone walls on a ground covered in puddles and cracks. Coming out onto the street, a figure step directly in front of her path. He was tall and thin but had sinewy arms and eyes that looked both ancient and youthful. His light brown hair flowed over his shoulders and his armor was a crisp sea-green in color and very well polished. The thinnest longsword she had ever seen rested in a sheathe at his hip and he moved with a preternatural grace as he reached for it.

“A high-elf!” Cassandra growled, irritated by his sudden involvement.

The elf smoothly drew his elegant blade and saluted the vampire…

 

[Seneschal]

CHAPTER SIX

Leaping backward, Cassandra lay Esmerelda down quickly and stabbed one of the homeless vagrants sleeping in the alleyway. Her let out gurgling gasp as her sword pierced his jugular. She pulled his dying body toward the elder vampire while keeping an eye on the charging high-elf.

“Drink, mistress!” she pleaded. A moment later, the elf brought his thin blade down upon her, Cassandra’ speed saving her from a fatal blow. She rose to her feet. She had no time for a duel with the witch hunters chasing her but if her mistress could regain her strength by feeding on the dying wretch, then the odds would shift. Cassandra was merely a thrall, a neonate, and she was keenly aware of that fact. Her mistress, however, was a full-fledged Lahmian countess, a dark avatar of humanity’s bestial nature wrapped in the elegant package of a comely bon vivant. If Lady Esmerelda could heal and join the fray…

Parry after parry was all Cassandra’s sword could do under the onslaught of the high-elf. He was the superior swordsman, of that there was no doubt. She’d fought against more skilled opponents before, she was no stranger to the odds not being in her favor.

Of course, Cassandra never cared for the odds. She let the vampiric beast take over and felt her confidence rise as she bared her fangs, hissing loudly as her attacks became more savage, her strength and reflexes amplified.

The sounds of the city filled her ears behind the clanging of their blades. People ran in a panic from down the road as Lord Steele’s manor burned. She heard the witch hunters shouting in the distance, their leader commanding them to spread out in search of her and Esmerelda. Time was crucial, she had to depart the area soon. Focusing on her enemy, Cassandra pulled out all the stops, executing every maneuver in her arsenal but each one came to no avail.

In all her mercenary days, Cassandra had never encountered an opponent who dominated her in a duel like the high elf now was. Her Lahmian speed could not match that of the tall swordsman who parried each of her attacks and had landed one strike each to her shoulder and forearm. She’d faced elves before, years ago during a scuffle at an open-air market and while skilled, their abilities and dexterity paled in comparison to the warrior before her.

“When did you elves become so fast?!” she hissed.

The High Elf remained quiet, his stoic demeanor so unreadable Cassandra began to wonder if he was an automaton. Their blades danced again and again until one was knocked from her hand by a masterful riposte. She screeched from the pain of her new wound, a bloody gash along her wrist and forearm. Cassandra hopped backward. The vampire was clearly outmatched and in dire straits.

The clattering of her sword being lifted from the ground caught the elf’s attention and for the first time, he showed emotion by frowning. Lady Esmerelda stood by her thrall, sword raised, “Run, childe. I will deal with this string bean!”

Cassandra smiled. Her mistress’ neck had nearly healed from feeding. She turned and ran back the way she came through the alley, the hunters now closing in…

She rushed toward the city aqueducts, evading as many potential witnesses as possible. After flitting from shadow to shadow for several minutes, she felt the presence of Lady Esmerelda at her side, “Dueling that blade-eared twig would have been a fool’s errand with the hunters closing in.”

Cassandra nodded then noticed the unmistakable silhouette of the high-elf warrior running up the grassy hill, his thin blade shining in the moonlight. Esmerelda snarled and brought up her blade but Cassandra decided another course of action was needed. Reaching into her untapped reserves of arcane energy, the thrall summoned a cloud of vampire bats. The airborne swarm harried the high-elf, biting at his armor, arms and face. He remained calm, however and swatted them down with impeccable aim, ignoring their bloodletting.

Esmerelda paused, observing the phenomena for a moment, “Childe. That gem you recovered from Trina…use it.”

The thrall pulled out the ruby-colored gem, running her lithe fingers over its surface, “How, mistress?”

“It is the Crimson Gem of Lahmia!” Esmerelda replied, “with it, you may harness more magical energy to power your spells. The price for such a boon is pain, a surge of arcane force that will wound you. Be strong, childe. You will heal in time. Do it!”

Holding the gem tightly, Cassandra shut her eyes and began casting another summoning spell. She focused on the ruby treasure in her hand and felt a stinging agony strike her palm but it was over almost as soon as it began and her spell was cast immediately after, adding another bat swarm to the one hampering their enemy.

Cassandra cast the spell once more with similar results. The High-elf was now visibly frustrated by the teeming clouds that surrounded him. His forward movement was impaired and both Countess and thrall raced away, escaping the city.



Some time later, Cassandra and Esmerelda ceased their flight, stopping within the ruins of a watchtower to the east. “With Trina betraying me, my manor is not safe,” the countess said bitterly, “my army…my necromancers…they’ve been put to the torch by now.”

“And the safe houses as well, mistress?” Cassandra asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“They have most likely been ransacked and are being watched,” came the reply. Esmerelda bared her fangs in anger, “That Bretonnian trollop will die horribly by my hand assuming her human conspirators haven’t betrayed her!”

“What did she have to gain, mistress?”

“Protection? Autonomy? They can handle a single vampire much easier than a coven that has been entrenched in the city’s upper crust and operating for decades. They wanted to find the ring leader and Trina named me…that miserable witch!”

Cassandra looked back in the direction of the city. It was far away now, hidden behind several hills. It had been her place of residence, her home, her source of income in another life but leaving it behind was a necessity, “Where do we go, mistress? The witch hunters will surely have sent out word to the outlying villages to watch out for us.”

Lady Esmerelda shut her eyes and lowered her head for a moment before raising it to look her remaining childe dead in the eye, “We must begin anew and for that, we must visit…the Queen.”

 

[Unas the slayer]

I'm hooked