The Homunculus Knight

Book IV: Chapter 17: Voices



"You want my professional opinion on drapeto? Well, my answer is simple enough: they are mad. Why else would a mortal forsake the privilege and protection afforded to those we take into our confidence? Fleeing from our suzerainty shows that the mortal in question is not just defective but dangerous. It is tragic, and I know some of you may get attached to these specimens even after they've broken your trust, but like any rabid creature, destroying them is the most merciful option for everyone involved." - Doktor Dolpheus DeBoe's lecture to a Noct Kalat night salon.

"Tell me again, why in the Hells are we doing this?" hissed Alia from her spot, crouched in the dense riverbank foliage.

"We need to see if this is a trap," muttered Cole from his place nearby.

"I understand that, but why are we here?" she elaborated, gesturing between herself and Mina. "No offense, but if this is some horrible ambush, you're a little bit more likely to walk out of it than we are."

Even if Mina couldn't see Cole's face in the darkness, she could sense his faint annoyance. "Believe it or not, I prefer not to make plans that involve me dying."

Gesturing up ahead of them towards the section of silty riverbank that was their destination, he reiterated his plan. "The three of us have the best odds of making contact with any survivors, determining if they're subverted, and then handling the situation if they are."

Mina pursed her lips. She didn't like the implications of Cole's words, just because she'd survived that evil, evil magic, that didn't make her an expert at identifying its signs. Managing to keep her tone neutral, the priestess asked. "If you really think psychic magic has twisted them, or this is some other trap, then why not bring Natalie, or Deborah? They're both more qualified than either of us."

"Wolfgang didn't know about Natalie; he was sent to capture me and the stone. I'd like to keep her and Deborah's presence hidden for as long as possible. Besides, if this really does go badly, those two and Grettir will be our cavalry."

Alia still wasn't satisfied with this response. "Okay, if Wolfgang really did cut and run, then that makes some sense. But that still doesn't quite explain my presence here. I know I'm on this trip to keep Mina alive, but I think you're better qualified. Shouldn't I be hanging back, crossbow at the ready?"

A tightness grew in Mina's chest; she understood the source of Alia's reluctance, walking into a potential ambush with a major sense not working must be harrowing. If Cole knew or cared about Alia's damaged sense of smell, he said nothing, instead pointing out. "You're a skilled city warden and have the best reflexes of all of us. If someone is going to spot an ambush and warn us in time, it's going to be you. Now, are we ready?"

Alia scoffed. "Well, I guess if I've wrung all the compliments I can out of you, then sure."

She glanced over at Mina, her reflective eyes catching the dim glow of the priestess's amulet. Nodding at her unspoken question, Mina whispered. "Let's go."

They stood up and headed for the beached river barge. Amulet held out before him, Cole let it pulse in intermittent flashes, signaling using sailor lantern cant that friendlies were approaching. When the ground turned to mud and sand, Alia paused. "Brighten that up a bit, will you?"

Cole glanced at her, clearly expecting some crack about him becoming a better target to protect the two women. When none came, he obliged, and Alia stopped down, gesturing at what Mina soon realized were tracks in the silt. "Foot prints, lots of them, and not from ghouls. They've been through this area multiple times. I'm thinking a patrol, but whose, I can't say."

The trio exchanged looks and then carefully continued their approach to the barge. To Mina, the boat looked and smelled like some great sea beast's carcass. Extensive damage marred its hull, and it sat at a nearly thirty-degree angle, propped up on its shallow keel. By now, they were about ten meters from the barge's side and still hadn't gotten a response to Cole's signal. Mina was just starting to wonder if maybe Natalie and Kit were wrong when a voice spoke from behind them.

"Halt! Who goes there!"

All three spun about, hands on weapons, finding nothing but the path they'd tread.

"Lower your weapons and turn about slowly, we've got a quiver's worth of enchanted arrows pointed at you, so no sudden movements."

They complied, finding a squad of ragged-looking soldiers waiting on the ship's bow rail, bows drawn and ready. Stepping forward, ignoring the nervous look she got from Alia, Mina spoke. "That was a clever trick. Hierophant Morri always said the best illusionists were those who knew how to be economic, not dramatic."

There was momentary silence before one of the soldiers, a broad-shouldered woman with plaited red hair, asked. "Mina? Is that you?"

Squinting against the darkness, the priestess responded. "Priestess Molli?"

"Tell me, what weapon did you perform the worst with at your last sparring assessment?"

Molli Onna of the Eleventh Temple was well-known in Vindabon for training priests of the other temples in the various martial arts. To be ordained as a restbringer or similar battle priest, one needed to withstand her scrutiny.

"Bow, I've always been bad with the bow."

The senior priestess relaxed her own weapon and gestured at her fellows to do the same. "What in the world's name are you doing here? Why aren't you at Fort Erdom, with the elector-prince?"

If Mina had to guess, Molli had been Hierophant Marcus's second-in-command, which explained how much she knew about the mission. This could be very bad if Cole's worries were correct.

The paladin in question spoke up then. "Plan's change, but before we discuss that, I have some solemn news and some questions."

"You must be Sir Cole, then. Fire-in-iron, they weren't exaggerating, about your… everything."

Ignoring this comment, he continued. "We found Acoytle Lyander; he told us about your situation, but did not survive his injuries. I'm sorry."

Molli winced. "Jagged edges, I'd hoped… Well, it matters little now. Alright, the three of you, come on up."

None of them moved. Carefully, Cole spoke. "I'd like you to answer my questions first. The road has been long, and many new dangers have made themselves known."

The tension that had been receding in the soldiers returned, and Molli stared down at Cole, her eyes sharp as the arrow still clutched in one hand. "Speak then."

"Why was a lone acolyte sent to get aid, and why only now? From the looks of it, you've been beached here for a few weeks, but only sent out a scout days ago. Additionally, what do you know about a new type of giant rattler, one with an invisible body?"

The older priestess grimaced, a fresh scar on one cheek catching the light. "We know about the rattlers; they first showed up at the battle for Crowbend, and we've spotted a few of them wandering on either side of the river since then. But as for Lyander, well, that's a complex problem, and the answer to it is why you should come aboard."

Alia and Mina exchanged looks; this was not encouraging. Hand tapping the hilt of his axe, Cole responded. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to need some more details before then. Painful lessons have proven the merits of paranoia."

Leaning over the bowrail, Molli gently tossed the arrow she held to the ground before Alia's feet. "You, I don't know you, touch the arrowhead, it's blessed silver."

Sighing, the city warden scooped it up and then said. "I'm werefolk."

"Yeah, well, you getting a skin rash seems a good price to assuage our own paranoia."

Rolling her eyes, Alia complied, tapping the metal against her bare forearm, wincing at the instant allergic reaction. "See, it smarts, but doesn't burn."

Satisfied, Molli said. "We're being stalked, a trio of leeches is skulking about, they've been picking us one by one for half a week now. Now, could you please get behind our defenses before they make another run at us?"

Cole drew his axe and turned from the priests. "Do you have any ability to sense them? Any forewarning of when they are nearby?"

"No, but we can make educated guesses. Considering how quickly they attack after nightfall, they're lairing somewhere nearby, which is exactly why you standing out in the open attracting attention is a bad idea."

Turning his weapon into a halberd, Cole strode back the way they'd come, frost already condensing around him. Shocked, Molli hissed. "The fuck are you doing? You'll get their attention if you don't already have it!"

Mina drew her own weapons and said. "We have allies nearby, we need to support them." Then she and Alia followed after Cole.

At first, Cole led them west, towards the road, but then abruptly changed directions, jogging south, fingers of mist trailing off his cloak. Coming up beside him, Mina hissed. "The camp's not this way!"

"If the vampires find our camp, I'd almost pity them. Deborah alone would make short work of them. No, I'm worried about our other scout; we need to find her before they do," snapped Cole as he jabbed his weapon towards a tall, bent sycamore close to where they first spotted the river barges.

Cold understanding filled Mina's guts. Cole's plan to have the rest of the group come in as reinforcements if things went wrong had a major flaw. How would Natalie, Deborah and the rest know if things had gone to shit? Well, turns out, he'd accounted for that, and she'd just not realized it.

Yara.

The thrall was somewhere nearby, waiting and watching to send a psychic message to her mistress. This also meant she was isolated and borderline defenseless. If any of these vampires could pierce Yara's admittedly impressive, subtlety magic, she'd be killed or worse.

Nobody ever looks up. That was an important lesson Yara's mistress had imparted upon her on multiple occasions and one she'd taken to with gusto. Perched high up in a budding sycamore tree, right on the river, she sat with spyglass in hand, following the dim light of Cole's amulet. While the night's oppressive darkness kept her from getting the full picture, so far it seemed the meeting with the soldiers on the barge was going well. But still, for some reason, Yara felt on edge, her hackles were raised, and she kept a tight grip on the branch below her. Instinct, or intuition, had the thrall waiting for the gallows' floor to fall out beneath everyone's feet. This was going to be a trap, or another ambush, and she'd needed to be ready to contact Natalie near-instantly.

Focused on the barge, watching as the soldiers relaxed their bows, Yara suddenly froze as a sound reached her ears. It was a splash, a loud one. Slowly, she looked down, towards the swirling ink of the river. The night was one of those damp, overcast ones where light barely got past its source before being swallowed up. Yet, still, she saw something in the river. There was a disturbance in its pitch-like surface. A very large disturbance that grew more intense with every passing beat of Yara's heart. A V-shaped wave was approaching the shore, the wake of an invisible boat. No, that was wrong, as Yara strained her eyes, using every bit of the night vision her mistress's venom had blessed her with, she saw the truth. A creature was in the water, its massive body barely below the rippling surface.

Again, the sound of sloshing water greeted her ears as the beast reached the bulrushes. A great scaly form welled up from beneath the dark waters, its long, angular body was easily three, wait, no, four, five meters in length. Covered in thick armored scales, trailing an oar-thick tail, the creature clambered onto the muddy bank using finger-long claws.

Staring down at the monster, eyes wide as an owl's, Yara knew she had to be looking at a dragon; for what else could this thing be? Then, as if to confirm her fears, two shapes unfolded themselves from the beast's craggy back, great malformed wings dripping water and ready to send the creature into the air. But, as Yara's fear reached a fever pitch, the wings detached, leaving the monster's flanks, and then peeling open, revealing two humanoid figures, each discarding what the thrall realized to be not wing skin but oilskins.

The clouds shifted then, providing the barest starlight for Yara to see the newcomers and know what they were. Their skin was pale as milk, and they moved with a lithe predatory grace that sent shivers of mixed fear and longing up the thrall's spine. The first of the vampires was a tall woman with long silver hair, tied in a braid down to her back. She wore an unusual outfit that mixed elements of a courtly suit and military uniform. A dueling cape marked by some ornate heraldry hung from her left shoulder, and a glittering rapier hung from the same hip.

The other vampire was of a similar height, if a bit broader. His chin had the same sharp angularity of the first, suggesting kinship. He wore a loose shirt open at the chest, its billowing sleeves fluttering in the tiniest night wind. Bizarrely, his pants were ripped at a dozen places, despite being made of quality leather that reflected like the water's surface. He carried a belt of daggers and moved with a deliberate swagger to contrast his comrade's more poised body language.

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Staring down at the two nobles, Yara realized she'd stopped breathing, but was too scared to start again. Putting all her focus into the magic flowing through her, willing the pair of vampires not to even consider her presence, Yara watched as they slipped through the bulrushes and towards the barge. But before the thrall could start to contact Natalie, another surprise reared its head. The river monster began to dissolve, its huge scaly body turning into black sludge that congealed around a new humanoid form. It was a third vampire, and one far larger than the other two. Matching Cole in both height and bulk, the vampire's skin was darker than Alia's, and he was bald. From what little she saw of his features, he was from Sutu. Was that why he could transform into that scaled horror? Was that thing the dire wolf of his birthlands?

As the third vampire joined his fellows, Yara frowned. He was wearing heavy scale mail, but it made no sound? Understanding struck a second later, he wasn't wearing armor; in fact, his only clothes were a richly embroidered loincloth of mixed textiles and fur. The vampire's upper body was covered in scars, but not like Cole's; these were ordered, intentional marks that transformed dark, muscular skin into a coat of reptilian scales. This man wore his totem proudly even in his human form.

The second vampire, the one with the ridiculous shirt, spoke then, his voice marked by some foreign lilt. "So, do you think tonight is the night?"

Picking at her cape, he female vampire shrugged. "I doubt it, we need to wear them down a little longer."

"I'm growing bored with this game. I hope they try another breakout," rumbled the scaled vampire, in heavily accented western.

Shirt made a dismissive gesture. "It wasn't a breakout, they were sallying to distract us, a gambit, need I remind you we fell for."

Scales growled slightly, but otherwise didn't react to the remark, which worried Yara. These three were a far cry from the petulant monsters she'd known in Glockmire's court. They reeked of the type of focused threat she'd associated with Dietrich. A sour taste flooded the back of Yara's throat at the thought of her previous master. She still missed him, but… but there was more to it now, and she couldn't face that right now. No, instead, her duty was to her current mistress.

Shutting her eyes, the thrall reached out through the link Natalie wove between them.

+ Mistress! Enemies! New vampires! Help! +

The reply was near instantaneous.

+ Is it an ambush? Where are Cole and the others? Where are you? +

Yara collected the memories of the past few minutes and sent them down the psychic bond like beads on an abacus.

+ Stay still, stay safe, we're coming. +

Letting her focus return to the world beyond her, Yara watched as the three vampires set out for the barge. Eyes flicking between them and the distant light of Cole's amulet, the thrall started to nervously chew on her tongue. The brush wouldn't obscure the silver glow for long, and once the vampires spotted her mistress's lover, they'd attack, springing an ambush from a completely unexpected direction.

Gnawing harder on her tongue, she tried to imagine a way to warn Cole and the others. There were no good options, but Natalie had trusted Yara with being the lookout, and she wouldn't fail. Focusing on her blood, feeling her rapid heartbeat, the thrall, no, ancilla, called upon Kit's lessons and her mistress's boons. She needed to be invisible, unnoticeable; she could do that, hells, she'd been practicing her entire life. A faint, warm, sticky feeling clung to Yara's skin, her body interpreting the magic now swaddling her. Carefully, silently, she began to descend the tree, watching the vampires all the while. They were moving slowly, so maybe, just maybe, she could get past them and reach Cole.

The second vampire, Shirt, paused, and Yara's heart froze. Casually, he pulled a dagger and muttered. "We're upwind from them." Then he cut two long lines into his forearms, slitting his wrists in the way Yara knew would end a mortal life. Black blood welled out of the wounds and started to bubble and hiss. Raising his arms, the vampire began to dance, spinning in extravagant circles as a cloud of strange vapors surrounded him.

Yara hesitated, trying to understand what she was watching. But then a scent reached her nostrils, a wonderful, wonderful aroma. A stinging spice that she couldn't get enough of. Sucking in more of the smell, filling her lungs, filling her everything with it, Yara felt like she was floating on a cloud of bliss. A shuddering gasp escaped her suddenly dry lips as the cloud carried her forward on its gentle waves.

"Now, who might you be?"

Cold reality sank into Yara's chest like a dagger. She stood before the three vampires, utterly exposed. Mind still cotton-stuffed, the thrall stared at the nobles who looked down at her with the type of dark curiosity reserved for a newly encountered bug. Yara groped at her disjointed thoughts, trying to catch them like eels in a barrel. Through sheer desperate effort, she got hold of a few of the most pertinent ones. The vapors had been the Sting, or something close to it, and while under their influence, she'd let go of her subtlety spell and tottered right up to the vampires.

Shirt took a step towards Yara, and another wave of intoxicating poison crashed against her.

"Don't make me repeat myself," murmured the vampire, his voice thick with threat.

Thoughts still slick to the touch, Yara defaulted to instinct, but thankfully for her, those instincts weren't forged by nature, but by years serving in Glockmire's court. Trembling, she sank into the lowest curtsey she could without falling over and pulled at her collar, revealing the neat lines of feeding scars.

"M-m-my lords, my lady, for-forgive me. I knew not your presence."

Genuine surprise radiated off three vampires; none of them had considered anything remotely like this. An undignified squawk escaped Shirt. "A thrall? Here?"

Eyes never leaving the trio's feet, Yara held the curtsey even as her heartbeat reached rodent speeds. With every breath, more of the Sting filled her, but now expecting it, she kept herself lucid by force of sheer self-preservation.

The caped vampire started to slowly circle Yara, with blatant predatory interest. "She's well trained and well cared for. This isn't a stray or a drapeto."

Drapeto, an old word from the old empire, and one all thralls knew to fear. It meant a thrall who'd fled their owner. Insane even before withdrawal took its toll, drapetos were a whispered legend among thralls, as were the creative consequences recaptured ones experienced.

Yara shook her head vigorously, but still did not speak; she needed to be perfectly subservient. Cape ended her inspection, standing right in Yara's blind spot, before asking. "What are you doing here, thrall?"

She couldn't lie to the noble, but she neither could she betray Natalie, so an obvious compromise had to be reached. The truth, but only enough of it to give a certain impression. "Scouting for my mistress."

That got a stir from the vampires, and Shirt mused. "So, we have competition. Who do you think is brazen and stupid enough to defy orders and come sniffing after our assignment?"

Oh, this wasn't good. If they assumed she belonged to a rival, then her remaining lifespan might be measured in minutes. Scales approached then, the hulking strigoi towering over Yara. "Your mistress, who is she?"

Heart somehow beating even faster, Yara tried to thread this needle. "Lady Natalie."

"Natalie? Odd name, she must be from one of the interior duchies," muttered Shirt. "Tell me, what is she doing here near Harmas, not reaving the rest of the Marches with the rest of the fledglings?"

"She… she is on a mission from a great power," said Yara, struggling to keep the words coherent. Her lips were trembling while cold sweat slicked her arms and legs.

"Red night!" swore the caped vampire. "Who? The Duke? His court? One of the voivodes?"

Scales snorted. "She's not going to know, Cielago." Turning to Shirt, he added. "Diego, pull what useful things you can from her mind and then let's-"

He paused, sniffed the air, then spun around, just in time for a silver explosion to go off. Yara's world became a mass of blinding light, and she fell to the ground, clutching her eyes. The vampires were screaming, but over that sound she heard a voice, a voice she'd long feared and was now learning to respect.

"MAGNI MORTAE MUNDUS!"

It was jagging uncanny how fast Cole could move. Mina had been around paragons before and knew what they were capable of, but something about Cole's agility still felt wrong. Despite wearing heavy plate armor, and it being nearly pitch-black, he flew through the underbrush, silent and fast as a balista bolt. Trailing after him and Alia, she found herself uncomfortably reminded of Morri's stories of fighting vampire knights.

Mace in hand, the priestess fought down her nerves; this would be her first time facing a vampire since the cave, and that fact weighed heavily on her. Particularly, a tiny, nagging doubt that just wouldn't go away. What if there was still something in her mind, another trap, another geas? If Master Time could miss one, he could miss another.

Those thoughts were slammed out of Mina's head as she nearly ran into Cole and Alia. The city warden was on her hands and knees, muttering slurred curses, while the paladin was desperately rummaging through his bandolier.

"What are you-" Mina started, but then Cole put a shovel-like hand over her face and, in the dim glow of his amulet, mouthed. 'Hold your breath.'

Unfortunately, he was half an inhale too late, and Mina nearly toppled over in fuzzy ecstasy. Eyes rolling back, she panted slightly as something wonderful filled her body. Yet, before she could be fully cocooned in pleasure, Cole's frantic whisper punched through the haze. "It's the Sting! Purify yourself!"

The part of Mina not yet surrendered to the bliss latched onto those words, and panic flooded her veins, contesting the toxin's presence. Shakily, she put a hand to her own throat and started a prayer. As part of her apprenticeship to Morri, she'd been drilled in the use of some specific spells to the point she could use any of them nearly instantly, no matter the circumstances. One of these workings cleansed the bloodstream of some poisons, including vampire venom. While it wasn't much use on a fully addicted thrall, it would help anyone freshly exposed to the stuff.

Ice water flooded through Mina's veins, and she let out a hoary gasp as the magic did its work. Head clearing, focus returning, she pushed away Cole's hand, only for him to return it carrying a small bottle of milky fluid. "Snort some of this."

Taking the bottle, Mina wordlessly asked what it was.

"It'll coat your nasal cavity and hopefully reduce the Sting's effects."

Grimacing, the priestess complied. The substance smelled horrific, but that was just the type of chaser she needed to finish clearing her head. Trying not to cough, she stumbled over to Alia, finding her girlfriend shaking violently, muttering more curses. Gripping Alia's hand, Mina recast the spell, eliciting a long, shuddering moan from the city warden.

Slumping to the ground, Alia hissed. "Fucking vampires. What sort of fucking creature has a rape drug for venom."

Cole didn't respond; he sniffed the air and turned away from them. After a moment, he growled. "This is a Moroi's work. We need to get to Yara, now."

Mina frowned as something occurred to her. "Do I need to cleanse you?"

Shaking his head, Cole set out. "You overdose on a drug a few dozen times, and you get used to it. Besides, this is watered down. Has to be to be airborne; I'll be fine."

Helping Alia to her feet, Mina asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm jagging chipper. Now lets go with him, I want a piece of the sick fuck who did that to me."

The trio ran through the bushes, moving fast and silently, only slowing when they heard voices. It was Yara, and she was talking with someone. Checking over his equipment, Cole mixed whispers and battle cant. "With the wind as it is and the sting in the air, they're going to have a hard time smelling us. The river is also masking our sound. We should be able to get close and strike hard. Mina, do you have anything that will distract them?"

Faint silver sparks danced around the priestess's hands, and she nodded. Morri had taught her the perfect spell for situations like this, and it would be good to turn the tables on the leeches. "It'll be blinding bright and burn anything undead."

Icy power started to radiate out from Cole, this wasn't the faint chill that had been swirling about him this entire time; this was a cloak of winter. "Once you hit them, I'll get their attention. Secure Yara and support me the best you can, but be safe. Natalie and the others won't be far."

Alia drew her blades and looked at Mina. "I love you, stay alive."

The priestess's heart skipped two beats, only one of which was due to pre-battle jitters. Nodding, she whispered. "I love you, too."

Following Cole's lead, they charged. As she ran, Mina held a hand out before her. She offered a prayer not just to Master Time but the Light itself as divine power manifested. Silver sparks coalesced in her palm, congealing into a sphere of star-bright magic. Aiming at a voice she didn't recognize, Mina let the spell fly. The shining lance shot past Cole and detonated with a sound like temple bells. For less than an eyeblink, it was daytime at the riverbank as sanctified light exploded out in a wave of power.

Screams cut through the night, inhumane, horrid howls of pain, soon drowned out by the paladin's battle cry. Cole was the first one into the clearing, and Mina caught sight of him striking at a huge vampire with a brutal overhead chop. Smoke swirled off the monster's ritually scarred skin, and it was hunched over in pain, but somehow it still parried the blow. Not dodge, parry. A clawed hand struck out with perfect timing, batting the halberd's head just enough to spoil Cole's aim. Mina's heart sank a little, this wasn't going to be easy.

Alia was already moving past Cole's duel and towards a kneeling figure near the other two vampires. One of them, a woman, probably, it was hard to tell with all the burns, drew a rapier, but Alia danced around the experimental thrust and grabbed Yara in one smooth movement. With the redhead over one shoulder, Alia kept moving, bolting away from the fight. Skirting around the clearing, Mina moved to follow, but the third vampire had noticed her. As patches of ash flaked off the rakish monster's face, it hissed and leapt forward. Red mist trailed from its forearms, and it carried twin daggers, both opulent curved things meant to slit throats and look good while doing it.

"I am Paladin Cole! Servant of Master Time! And I've come to settle a debt of lives!" roared the homunculus in question, as a wave of frost billowed out from him. That got the dagger vampire's attention, and Mina saw a mix of shock and fear upon the creature's face. Refocusing on the more obvious threat, the vampire charged Cole, leaving the priestess free to follow Alia and Yara.

Fleeing the escalating clash between holy and unholy monsters, Mina ran a hand over her mace's head, weaving a cold blue light into the metal. Stealth was out the window now, time to clear view where the fuck they were going, and maybe attract the attention of any incoming allies.

Alia had gotten Yara to her feet, and they were both running full tilt. Mina was about three meters behind them and working on a second flash spell; if she could toss it back near Cole, it might even the odds for him. Then something struck Mina square in the back, sending her tumbling forward in a sprawl of limbs. A hand wrapped around her arm, but she recognized the grip.

"Are you hurt?" said Alia as she hauled Mina to her feet. Breath knocked out of her, Mina struggled to speak, let alone stand, so the city warden looked for answers herself. Alia's hands roamed over Mina's body, checking her cuirass for punctures.

"Okay, no blood, so that's- OH FUCK!" Alia pulled them both to the ground as a flight of darts cut through the night above them. A crack pulled Mina's eyes to a nearby tree, and she saw an onyx dart sticking out of the bark. Silently thanking Uncle Maker and the smith who'd made her armor, Mina got to her feet, mace in one hand, ward in the other. Two more darts split through the air but ricocheted off the magical shield Mina summoned. Following the projectile's arc, she found there source. The vampire with the rapier was stalking towards them, but she wasn't just armed with a fencing blade anymore.

Dueling cape now thrown back, the vampire's arm was grotesquely distorted. It had lengthened to below knee height and now sported incredibly long, spindly fingers with too many joints. Said fingers were folded back, like a bat's wing at rest, and in the light of Mina's mace, she could see strange black scale-like growths congealing along the edges of the digits. The vampire swung its mutant arm out again, and some of those scales came free.

After blocking this new volley, Mina glanced at her girlfriend, receiving a nod and a smile from her. A shiver then went up Alia's spine, and she licked her lips, a predatory grin showing slightly too-sharp teeth. "The pair of us versus a bat-armed bitch? I like those odds."


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