A/N: I figure I should give a heads up here.
The Beginning of this chapter is a memory from Alaric's childhood. There is violent abuse of a minor and implied rape for another character. Virtual hugs for those that need it.
Let us continue.
I am ripped from my sleeping state as I feel myself get pulled up and thrown across the camp. I skip across the ground, scraping and bumping against tree roots, twigs, and other debris scattered across the Wildwood forest grounds. I am not terribly injured, for I was born strong, but I am still a child, and I fear for what is to come next.
Well, fear, but also I feel impatience. I contemplate how I'd rather this be done and over with so I can go back to sleep as I stare up at the sky. Some stars were out, but the moons, Catha, the larger and paler of the two celestial bodies, and Ruidus, the smaller reddish-purple, maroon-brown, one, were not out this night.
"You lying mongrel!" As I thought, it's him again. He's angry with me. What did I do this time?
"I'm sorry." I don't even know what it is he's angry with me for. I just know that pain comes when he's this angry.
"You will be if you don't look at me when I speak to you boy!" Knowing the motions like a dance routine, I pull myself to my knees, not wanting to let him think I'm trying to show him up. I turn my head in his direction, my eyes being capable of adjusting in such utter darkness, but I keep my eyes from meeting his, not wanting to give the impression that I was trying to challenge him again.
Instead I focus on his unkempt beard, which was stained with blood from last nights feast. The beard framed his tanned lips, which were curled inwards, and the corners are pointed down. I can see his prominent canines as he verbally lashed me.
Even though I hated these 'punishments', they were almost more bearable then his scent. The fresh, and stale, smell of copper mixes in with his pungent musk, followed by a slight stench of rancid meat... death... and the worst of it all... the fresh, acrid smell of his recent 'conquest'. It made my stomach churn every time.
Even worse was that I can hear the soft and gentle sobs, of an equally gentle woman, crying in her tent. She tries to be silent, so that I won't hear it, but I do.
"Forgive me, My Lord." I keep my voice even, attempting to hide my mixed feelings of bubbling frustration and unyielding terror.
"Keep grovelling and I'll put you through every tree in this forest." At this point I may as well stop talking altogether, at least until he becomes agitated with that course of action as well. "I know what you did this morning. You will answer for your transgressions against the pack."
I remain silent. Unwilling to give the wrong answer to whatever he wants to hear.
"After we finished slaughtering this mercenary camp, Ma'lak went to inspect the roads, stating that you've been diverting our attention from bigger game recently. He picked up the scent of a caravan and followed it to a camp about an hour from here." At this he storms towards me, hands outstretched, intent on strangling me.
I feel his massive right hand make contact. It is too big for my small form to wrap around my neck entirely, so his thumb, index, and middle finger is all he uses while the ring and pinky fingers are wrapped around where my shoulder meets my collar bone. He lifts me off the ground with ease. I am not that big, not yet at least, but he is like a mountain. Unbreakable, unkillable. The biggest and strongest of the pack. He slams me against a tree, a contemptuous growl escapes his throat as he does.
"You're weakness is costing us food and troops, boy. You want us to die out here? Is that it? You hate us so much that you'd rather see your family die!" His breath reeks, the source of the rotting smell is likely that chunk of liver stuck in his teeth.
"No, My Lord. I love my pack. I would do any-AGH!" He uses his free hand to grab my arm and twists it so hard it nearly breaks. A rumbling storm grows inside of me as I try to remain calm.
"Don't lie to me." He applies further torque on the arm as a warning that I better say the right thing next. I know that a broken arm will not be the end of my punishment if I don't.
I still focus on his mouth, the rotting flesh in his teeth, as I breath, trying to steady myself. I do it silently though, attempting to hide my attempts at quelling my rage. I know he hates it when I reject my supposed 'gifts'.
"I'm not. If the mercenaries weren't here, I would have stayed the course and slaughtered that caravan as well." He growls, but does not further the pressure applied to my arm.
"Why were you so adamant about eating the mercenaries? One of them was a caster, and injured three of our own, and killed one of the females."
"A mistake I will learn from. I did not pick up on the fact any of them carried arcane power. I was also... blinded by my lust for battle. I wanted a proper challenge. To eat the strong." His contempt soothes a bit, morphing into mere displeasure. Displeasure was common. I can handle displeasure pretty easily.
"You believed they were strong? We dispatched them fairly easily. What made you think this was worth our time?" His grip had loosened a bit at this point, the pain in my arm being replaced with moderate discomfort. If I played this next part carefully, he may let go of my arm. Maybe even drop the whole thing.
That was wishful thinking.
"They smelled like you. You are the biggest and strongest of us. I want to be as powerful as you when I get big." His irritation grew into a grimace, a look that I was not liking. His hand however left my arm, and I wondered what I was in for.
"So you want to kill me to become The Night Lord then? Lead the Night Haunters?" Oh no.
"N-no! I swear! I just want to be use-AAAAAAA!" I scream as the abrupt, and the stabbing sensation of broken bone pressing against muscle shoots through my twisted arm. A feeling I'll never get used to.
"I'll give you something to scream about traitor!" Pulling me away from the tree, he slams my form back into the bark, my head connecting with a particularly large knot.
My vision goes blurry, my beast wanting to escape and claw out his throat, but I keep it steady. I am only 8 years old, and very small, where he is much older, and much larger, like a mountain. A mountain that was crushing me... kicking me... beating me.
Why does he hate me?
"Remus!" Among the thudding noises of boots meeting skull... when did I hit the ground...? I can hear her warm concerned voice. The voice of my protector.
He ignores her calls, and continues to stomp on me. I know better than to cover up. If I try to avoid the full brunt of my punishment, he will punish her for my weakness. I must endure.
"REMUS!" I hear a twig snap as somebody steps next to him, I can't see who through the blurry red. I can smell her, just barely, through the my own coppery scent though. And I hear a loud clap, as if thunder was striking. She stumbles, but doesn't fall. Mistake.
"You dare challenge me!" She drops to her knees, I can see only her quivering tear stained jaw, and partially her mouth. Although, I can't really see clearly, or much of anything else at the moment.
"N-no, sir! I merely want you to come back to bed with me. I wish to grant you another, to make you more powerful." Her shaking desperate words stumble out of swollen lips, and her chin quivers as she speaks. Why are you standing up for me. He already punished you today.
He grunts in response, taking one less kick, aiming it at my ribs, causing the air to rush out of me like a family trying to escape a house fire set by my pack. Afterwards, he takes her by the hair, and pulls her to her feet, before dragging her off to the tent. I try to look in her direction, but he kicked me so hard that I was stiff, and it was extremely painful to move.
I just laid there, salty tears mixing with my warm blood as it all streamed down my face. I manage to roll over and look at the sky, begging to go deaf as I can only move one arm freely now, and I can hear the violent grunting and groans of discomfort coming from the tent, among other unsavoury sounds.
I wake to the sound of the rolling tides of a shoreline. A briny and oceanic odour mixes with algae, seaweed, and the alarming smell of smoke and ash. I can taste the sea salt on my tongue, as well as blood, and I briefly wonder how I got here. Not expressly interested in thinking too long on that nightmare I just had.
I can tell that it's day with how bright everything is, despite my eyes being shut, and I reluctantly open them to be met with the immediate, yet brief pain that accompanies their adjustment period to the sun's rays. After mere seconds my vision clears and I can see as I'm getting to my feet that I am indeed on a beach, under one of the squid like arms of the vessel I now remember I was held captive on. It now lays dormant and burning in the woods. I do not recognize at first glance where I am, but I know that I will be able to find my way. So long as we had returned to Tal'Dorei.
My senses being assaulted by the fires and ocean, I decide to head further inland as soon as possible. My immediate surroundings are blocked off by the ship, so I take the only path forward, past the corpse of an unfortunate captive, and towards the body of a familiar Half-Elf. I can smell that power again, which means that object is still with her.
"Shadowheart?" I call out to her, hoping she responds, but it is no use. Approaching her, I see that she is presently unconscious, but from what little I can see on her person, she is not severely injured or on death's door. For a moment I had forgotten, but now that I am staring at the perfectly alive fey-touched, I am reminded of my broken leg.
Looking down at the appendage I take note that it's fully healed, and there is no lasting damage or numbing pain when I put my weight on it. Further more, my blue and grey Monk attire of the Cobalt Soul were fully restored, and not even ratty or filthy like they were the other day. Strange.
Surviving the fall is tricky enough, though maybe my inherited abilities would have allowed me survival regardless, but I feel with Shadowheart's healthy condition, that there is something else to this. Especially when taken into account that we were all being pummelled by that Cambion, Commander Zhalk before the crash. Now however there was no sign that she was in battle, in fact, it looks like she just passed out here. Curious. I wonder if somebody intervened.
As I'm pondering the implications of this I notice the small object in her hand. Getting a clearer view of it now, I can see that it isn't perfectly round, but a icosahedron – a polyhedron with 20 sides – and at every intersecting point it has a spike that looks like a jagged earthy mineral, unlike the metal the rest of the object is made of. Each side of the object is engraved with runes that I do not recognize at the moment. I have this feeling that deep down that the object is more than what it appears. Instincts tell me to be extremely careful around it.
Opting to not steal from my new ally, I lean down and listen for her heart beat. No irregularities, and it's strong, so all seems good. But why? I suppose it's best not to question but something isn't right about all this.
Right now I won't get any answers, so instead I place my hands on her and shake her lightly, hoping that she can still wake up. Luckily she begins to stir, a frown falling over her face as she is torn from the land of dreams. Her eyes open, a state of confusion and shock come over her as she sees me, quickly sitting up and looking around before looking at me again. She takes a moment to remember what happened, and when realization dons on her face, she reveals that she shares in my confusion over the situation.
"You're alive! I'm alive. How is this possible?"
"I was asking myself that question a minute ago and have come up with no answers. Look at my attire..." I gesture my hands in a manner that suggests I'm putting my outfit on display, and she stares at me blankly for a moment. "... do you not remember that my clothes were basically falling off of me due to their poor condition?"
"Oh, that's right." She looks down to her own armour and seems even more perturbed by what she is seeing. "How is this possible?"
"I don't know. I'm aware of spells that can be used to fix such things, but I have my doubts that some wizard came by and wasted his time and energy on fixing up our clothing without payment or expecting any favours." She smiles a bit before nodding.
"An unlikely circumstance indeed. Still, I wonder if it had anything to do with how we survived the crash."
"I was hoping you might have an idea about that." I suppose we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but I could not stop thinking about what may have happened. Magic? The Tadpoles some how? Maybe that Mind Flayer I was staring at before I went unconscious. Or... and I believe this is the least likely answer, but maybe one of the gods saw fit to spare us. Though I don't know why they would start now. They don't do shit for anybody.
"I remember the ship, I remember fighting that Cambion, and nearly dying, I remember falling... then nothing." I thought as much. Whatever happened will probably remain a mystery for now.
"Same here. Do you see Lae'zel anywhere?" I look around and sniff the air, but she's no where in sight, and no sign of her astral scent. Only the smell of ozone and blue prennenum. A flower that only grows in the Grey Valley on this continent. It can be used to create ointments to heal wounds.
"No, and I'd consider not looking for her if I were you. Besides, it looks like she ran off with out us." Shadowheart's contemptible answer proved what I already figured out. I knew the moment they looked at each other that they would come into conflict. I really hope it isn't a constant thing I will have to step in to stop.
"We should look for her. She could be injured, or worse."
"You're more concerned for her than she is for you, clearly. We need to take care of ourselves." Yeah, I'm going to have to play babysitter for these two if we have any hope of removing these parasites. "First things first - we need supplies, shelter, and a healer. We might have escaped, but we still have these little monsters in our heads."
"Yeah, and we have a better chance of taking care of ourselves as a group. We will look for her." She scowls at me as she opens her mouth to protest, but I don't give her the chance to. "Do you have any idea where we are? I don't recognize this beach or the surroundings. Then again, I've never watched a crashed Nautiloid burn in the woods before, so maybe the drastic change in scenery is the reason I'm lost."
She bites her tongue, clearly annoyed that I'm not willing to listen to her protests, but likely values getting on with things rather than standing around. She looks around for a few moments and shrugs her shoulders.
"No... I don't recognize this beach either. But anything's an improvement than where we just came from."
"Couldn't agree more. So it's settled then? We will stick together?" She narrows her eyes at me for a moment, I imagine crucifying me for suggesting that we spend time looking for our Githyanki companion, but nods her head.
"We need each other, and we both know what's at stake. Couldn't ask for better company." I could tell there was a bit of sarcasm there, but I ignore it in favour of continuing our journey.
"Good, we should start heading north." I begin taking steps in the aforementioned direction but I am stopped by her hand grabbing my shoulder.
"Wait a moment." I turn to face her as she has this look of gratitude replace the one of irritation she had a minute ago. "I want to thank you again for saving me. It would have been all too easy to walk right past my pod, but you didn't. I'll remember that." Her emerald eyes are giving me a look that almost fools me into believing she actually appreciates me, but that can't be true.
I feel a tightness in my chest, my cheeks flush and my stomach drops to my feet. What I did was easy. The price for such abilities has been too high. The things I've done... I don't deserve this praise. This gratitude. I'm no hero.
"Wasn't a big deal." Shadowheart scoffs at my remark as she lets me go and motions for me to lead the way.
"You must be joking. I don't know many who are capable of what you did. You're strength is a true marvel." She looks up at me, being around the same height as Lae'zel she is shorter than I am, and gives me a smirk.
"I'm sure there are plenty of Goliaths, Half-Orcs, and larger Dragonborn that would consider it just another Grissen for them." I can see out of the corner of my eye that she is inspecting me closely.
"No scales..."
"Cute."
"...You aren't grey or green, much less any other colour or metallic substance..."
"That much is certain."
"...and judging by your hair and beard, you can't be a Goliath."
"Pretty sure one of the most famous Goliaths in Tal'Dorei at the moment has a beard."
"Pretty sure that's a rare exception. Maybe he's of mixed blood, or, maybe he is in possession of an enchanted item that allows hair growth. You never know."
"Suppose that's true." I need to push the conversation in another direction. I don't want her focusing too much on my abilities. "You too, by the way."
"What's that?"
"Thank you. You and Lae'zel saved my life when you charged Zhalk. He would have driven that blade clean through me, and I definitely wasn't going to survive. I suppose we are even." The woman gives a half hearted nod before turning away.
"Even so. I won't forget what you did. And we have the mutual goal of getting a cure for this alien infection... a small modicum of trust has already been established in terms of keeping each other alive. But I'm still keeping a watchful eye." I turn away from her, her mischievous smile giving me a sense of unease. I don't like being studied or observed for long periods of time.
"So what's the story with that little artifact of yours?" Keep changing the subject. No sooner than my question leaves my lips does Shadowheart seem to be less open for conversation.
"There is no story. None that you are entitled to hear anyway. Just forget you ever saw it." Vocally she seems calm, but I can tell by her body language, the way she's refocused her gaze on our path instead of on me, and the subtle space she made between us, tells me that she wants to keep how uncomfortable she is hidden from me, almost as much as she wants to hide the information about that strange object of hers. Well, I can't force her to answer me. Or rather, I shouldn't force her.
"Alright. Just making small talk, but if you don't want me to pry, than I won't." She turns to me again with an appreciative look before speaking.
"Thank you. I'm sure we'll get along perfectly well." With that a somewhat awkward silence falls over us as we trek forward.
Not much to note as we do. We check the bodies of those we find on the beach, but none are living. I wondered what they had seen, if they were on the ship or just near the beach when it crashed. I suppose it doesn't matter now.
Shadowheart didn't have a pack on her. No gear, camping supplies, or anything for survival. All she had was a mace, a shield, and her mysterious artifact. As a result we took to pilfering what we could from the corpses on the beach, as well as anything else we could find near by. We found some gold - which I was uneasy about taking, knowing they probably had families that probably need it more than us – some food, camp supplies, and a note to a lover. I pocket the note, just in case I come across this Anna. She deserves to know that she wasn't abandoned.
Afterwards we trek through the jungle for a while, coming across a few dead goblins of all things, and some Intellect Devourers. These creatures are dangerous. I had no idea just how dangerous they could be. The Mind Dogs were trying to invade my mind during our combat, as well as disembowel me with their bestial talons, but Shadowheart had my back, and we managed to destroy the little beasts. We took a little breather after that, tending to the wounds I had. I told her not to waste her magic and to just wrap the wounds, which she argued with me for awhile, but eventually gave up. Grumbling about how I'm "As stubborn as a Dwarf." Which is true.
The reason why I rejected her offer of using divine powers to heal me is because I didn't want her to waste her energy. I know casters have a limited amount of times they can use certain spells per day, and I knew that I would heal fast enough that we should reserve her abilities for when things get dire.
"Someone, please help me?!" A posh male voice came desperately to us through the trees.
"Did you hear that?" I ask her, to which my companion nods.
"Sounds like it came from over there." She points up an inclined trail, along one side is a cliffs edge and the other is the Nautiloid. I sniff the air, but can't smell anything other than the dead bodies that fell from the ship as it crashed.
"Maybe it's another survivor?" I queried. Shadowheart looks at me with exasperation on her face and I shrug. "I'm going to check it out. You with me or not?"
"Doesn't seem like I have much of a choice." We continue forward at a slightly quicker pace, but keener awareness. For all we knew, this could be a trap.
We go about 10 more paces and I pick up a scant trace of something stale and dry, but also that cloying sweetness I was familiar with from the Nautiloid. This person up ahead definitely had a tadpole. He turns to us, a Pale Elf with hair as white as mine, though less silvery, and... red eyes. The only Elves I knew of with red eyes were Drow, though I've never seen any this pale before. Perhaps one of his parents was Lolth-Sworn and the other wasn't. Either way, something was off about him, but I couldn't tell what it was.
When he spots us he raises his hands and waves frantically.
"Over here. Quickly!" He tries to keep his voice down as he waves us over, and I put my hand on Shadowheart's shoulder to slow her down, her quick glance and nod telling me she understood, allowing me to step forward and take the lead.
"Good day, stranger. Wha-"
"Shh!" I close my mouth immediately. Why is he being so squirrely? "I have one of those brain things cornered. Kill it, like you did the others." He was watching us kill... my thoughts are interrupted as I pick up the filthy scent of a wild hog. I shake my head as this guy is clearly losing it. Maybe the tadpole was causing more severe damage to his brain.
"It's just a hog, sir." The man looks... skeptical? Did he not believe me or... no he was pondering something. He perks up pretty quickly though, and holds his stomach.
"Oh, well that's perfect than. I'm starving. I'm not much of a hunter, could you possibly... if you don't mind?" I look him up and down and find him wanting. His body language is almost all over the place. He seems to have the urge to pounce, but also the urge to run. His fight or flight is struggling to decide which course of action to take, meanwhile he seems to be making a conscious effort to put on a hapless demeanour. I recognize a predator when I see one.
"No. You're on your own." Whether thrall, bandit, or Bhaalspawn, this guy wasn't to be trusted. Given that Shadowheart is behind me I immediately continue past him and up the trail. Frankly, maybe we scared him, whether he is capable or not we outnumbered him. I still can't figure out what is so off about him though.
"Look out!" Shadowheart's warning is somehow too slow for me to react. By some miracle the bastard manages to sneak up on me. When he grabs me, he puts a blade to my throat, and with strength I wasn't expecting from the very lean Elf, he pulls me to the ground. Since we are on an incline, and I shift my body to try and get out of his hold, we tumble. His knife nicks my neck but nothing vital is hit. I can tell by the way the blade felt though, the dulled pain, that it isn't silver or magic. Would heal in no time.
We tumble a bit more as I try to grab his dagger, but he's as dexterous as I am and manages to use the momentum to his advantage. We eventually end up in a position laying next to each other and his blade is once again placed to my throat. He's good. Experienced.
"Shhh, not a word. Let's try to keep that lovely neck of yours in one piece, hmm?" His frightful demeanour is replaced with the tactical mind that is now presenting itself to us. Like I said, predator. "And you. Keep your distance. No need for this to get messy.
"I need him alive. Stow that blade or you'll see how messy things can get." Shadowheart seems less than pleased with the failure of keeping me safe. Her threat dripped with venomous contempt.
"Promises, promises. But I have other business I'm afraid. Now, I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod, pup." The way he said that to me put my hair on end. He knew. His smirk, and the emphasis on the last word. His scent was starting to seem familiar to me, and it was making the beast inside writhe with anticipation.
Wasting no time on words, I wrap my hand around his blade and grip tight, causing alarm to cover his face. It didn't last as I delivered a headbutt, before rolling over the man and placing him in an arm bar. He let go of the knife as soon as I placed enough pressure that would break the bones of most Elven men. He struggles to look at me and I avert my eyes, He taps on my legs and I intend to fully break his arm.
The tadpoles in our heads had other plans though. Our muscles seize up and we let go of each other as the throbbing pain from the last two links charges through our minds like a raging bull. Our minds twist. He see's me prowling the jungle, hunting hapless merchants, clawing and devouring them. I see through unfamiliar eyes, prowling dark busy streets. He lures a woman to an inn. Her hope and lust written on her face barely covers her loneliness. He is preying on that. No hope here. I don't get to see any further than him leaving the inn with her before the vision begins to fade. I try to hold onto it, but it fades to the worm. The light. The Fear.
He wasn't a Dhampir.
We both come out of it and scramble to our feet. He reclaims his dagger, as Shadowheart and I prepare to fight him. Just as things are about to get bloody, he puts up his hands.
"Wait! Wait. What... what just happened?" His confusion seemed to replace his previous aggression completely. This is in fact a Vampire Spawn. A worm beneath a lord. So of course he is looking for a way out of his situation. Although, I wonder why he isn't being incinerated by the sun's radiant light.
I am ready to strike, but the bastard raises his hands. Normally I don't fall for such things, and I definitely didn't intend on letting this thing walk away with it's freedom and new found ability to step into the sun.
"Put that dagger away, and we'll explain everything." Shadowheart seemed more eager to talk. I shot her a look of disapproval, shaking my head, but she made a face at me that I could only take as a 'Shut up and follow my lead.'
"I'm not an idiot. It has to be those tentacled monsters. Something they did..." He pauses his musings to look me up and down, sizing me up before giving me a smirk and a wink. "They took you too. I saw it during... whatever just happened. And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies." Manipulative whore-son. Why isn't he outing me? Is he trying to worm his way into our pack?
Pack? No, we aren't a pack. That was the old way. We aren't an adventuring party either. We get a healer. We're done with each other. This guy, I don't want around. But, my Half-Elf ally is keen on hearing him out. So I'll play along, for now.
"Can't blame you. I was looking forward to spilling yours." He smirks at my obvious threat and raises his nose, looking down at me.
"Ah. A kindred spirit." I felt a growl escape my throat. "My name's Astarian. I was in Emon when those beasts snatched me." I detect no lie. The streets he was on were familiar to me from my years training with The Cobalt Soul. I simply nod to Shadowheart to indicate he is telling the truth, and she stows her weapon. "The strong and silent type? All right. Please tell me you at least know something about these worms."
"Yeah, unfortunately they'll turn us into Mind Flayers." Astarian's face fell for a moment before a manic smile spread across his lips and he started laughing.
"Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect? I bet you can relate." Gods I want him to shut up. His voice is irritating to begin with. His attitude and state of being makes it doubly worse. "Though, it hasn't happened yet. If we find an expert, somebody that can help us control these things, there might still be time."
"No! We are not controlling it. We are getting rid of it. And by 'we' I mean Shadowheart and I." Astarian turns to Shadowheart with a frown, which prompts me to look over to gauge her reaction. She is shooting me a glare, and I know she is going to insist on having another ally. Even though she was willing to veto Lae'zel from that position.
"We need all the help we can get, Alaric." She definitely isn't happy that I just gave out her name without her permission. I growl in anger at both of them, having half a mind to tackle Astarian off this cliff to see if the water below was still acid to his Vampiric skin.
"I swear, I won't bring anymore harm to this little adventuring party of ours. We will join in jolly cooperation, slay some monsters and get ourselves healed up in time to get drinks together. Or go our separate ways. Whichever suits you." I grumble a curse under my breath at the bastard. I know full well that if I try to out him as a Vampire I'd look insane. He clearly doesn't look like a Spawn and he isn't burning in the sun. I may have saved her life but I doubt she'd believe me so easily. However... if he is now immune to the vulnerabilities he usually suffers as a bloodsucker, does that mean my weaknesses would be nullified as well? Am I still susceptible to my transformations?
I touch the pendant I have hidden under my robes, pressing it against my skin, and realize I feel a slight tinge of pain. Normally it's quite a bit more intense. Something I live with as a deterrent, a reminder of what can happen if I lose control. I didn't notice it's lack of effect on me until just now. Still. Given that the dull pain is still persistent, now that I'm aware of it, I have not become immune to my weaknesses. Magic likely will still kill me just as easily as it did previously. Maybe this vampire will still be killed with a wooden stake in the heart. Holy water even. I also hope that he is susceptible to radiant energy, similar to those produced by Clerics.
One thing I knew for certain, no matter what, I'd rather not have my condition known. If Shadowheart or Lae'zel were to find out, it would be likely they'd abandon or attempt to kill me, and I need their help to get rid of this tadpole. Looks like Astarian will keep my secret, and I suppose, against my better judgment, I'll keep his.
"Fine. I don't trust you, but I suppose if you keep your hands, among other things, to yourself, you can travel with us." His smug smirk makes me regret my decision. He walks over to Shadowheart and faces me.
"Lead the way, Alaric." I glare at him for a good while before Shadowheart speaks.
"I'll keep a good eye on him." Regarding her I nod, hesitantly, for I know she means well but does not have all the information. I should just tell her.
But I don't. I just turn and continue along the trail, trying to focus my senses. I can't just focus on him, especially since he seems keen on dealing with his tadpole, I likely can trust he will behave around us until such a time that it does not suit him. That time won't come in these woods, unless he's stupid enough to trust a hag or make a deal with some devil. Mentioning it now, I really hope it doesn't come to that for myself and Shadowheart.