Dragomir's room was close and conveniently located on the same floor as her own. Since the northern side of the wing was forbidden to everyone except his spawn, and herself when invited, they didn't need to worry about bumping into any of the daytime workers sauntering throughout the halls.
Astarion could feel the tension in the air. He found himself continuously checking behind him to make sure someone truly wasn't following as he took up the rear. When he turned back to look ahead of him, he glanced at Tav, who grinned and gave him a thumbs up, trying to make him feel better about the situation no doubt. He shook his head in disbelief at the dragonborn. He really was crazy. How did he always manage to keep his cool in any situation they faced? He wouldn't admit it, but his confidence did make him relax a little.
There was a heavier, more ominous sensation as they arrived at Dragomir's chambers. Neither of them said a word as they quietly approached the foreboding double doors of his room. It felt like they were about to step into the monster's mouth, teeth primed to bite down and swallow them whole if given the chance. Orianna gripped the door handle, giving it a squeeze and jiggle, but it was locked. Astarion didn't need any form of invitation as he worked his magic, fiddling with his thieves' tools for a few seconds until it clicked, granting them entry.
"Easy." He smirked, taking the lead as Orianna and Tav followed.
As he walked in, he could smell bergamot and Amberwood, along with hints of Orianna's particular aroma mingling with it. To his relief her scent was stale, likely remnants left behind from before. The room was grand as expected, sticking to a menacing palette of black, burgundy and red. He would normally take a moment to admire the decor, but he skipped the gawking and started looking around, scanning the room for any clues to the hideaway. What stood out to him the most was a crimson door with intricate carvings and a gold handle. He opened it and paused with a raised brow that slowly morphed into a frown as he observed how the narrow room was lined with angled shelves and wine-shaped bottles.
It was an immaculately well-kept wine cellar; except he had a suspicion it wasn't fermented grapes he was storing here. He took a step inside and plucked up one of the bottles with delicate hands, spinning it around to see his dear Orianna's name and a date from twenty years ago written in artistic script.
"This can't be what I think it is..."
He looked at her in question and saw her face somber. She passed by him slowly, walking further inside the small room and reached for another bottle. The label was yellowed from time, dated from almost a century ago.
"Once in a while he would collect my blood and keep it in the reserve. Being the connoisseur that he is."
Her brow furrowed as she popped off the cork. To spite the bastard, she outstretched her arm and tilted the bottle, the bright red liquid sloshing onto the floor into a delicious puddle.
It took all of Astarion's willpower not to drop to his knees and lick it off the ground like a ravenous mutt. He swallowed down his thirst as his mouth watered from the thick aroma, so potent he could almost taste it. Once he got a hold of himself, he realized it smelled far too fresh to be decades old, and no sign of coagulation either.
How curious.
"My blood doesn't perish, you see." She placed the empty bottle back on the rack and looked at Astarion in apology. "Forgive me. You carry yourself with such restraint, I tend to forget the effect I have on you."
"What effect would that be, darling?" He feigned ignorance, pretending to be unmoved even, but they were both aware it was quite the opposite.
"My blood. You wish to drink it, don't you?"
He stared into her eyes, knowing there was no use in lying to her or himself. He was a vampire spawn; an endless pit of thirst and hunger was something he was forever cursed with, and she knew this as well as he did.
"I've wanted to since the first moment I laid eyes on you."
She smiled and stepped closer to him, caressing his cheek with gentle fingers. "Honesty's an attribute of the truly brave, and thus a privilege of the very few."
Relief washed over him. He expected the common reaction of disgust but instead it had been one of understanding. Orianna gave him so many free passes when it came to his nature, she always looked at him for who he was, not what.
"I found something!" Tav spoke up from the bedroom, finding some subtle scratches on the floorboards beside the large bookcase, like something had been dragged frequently.
Astarion and Orianna returned to the dragonborn's side, coming up behind him to look over his shoulder and see his discovery. Astarion examined the shelves and slid his hands against the spines of the books, glancing at the titles and searching for any anomalies. None of them seemed to stand out in any unnatural way, they were all plain as could be. He tried to pry the bookcase from the wall, pushing and pulling to see if it would move by force, but it held itself firmly in place.
"There has to be a button or lever somewhere..."
"Knowing how careful he is my guess is it's magical in nature. Perhaps a spell or an incantation? Maybe even a password." Tav rubbed his chin in thought.
While those two were talking, Orianna found herself standing before a medium sized painting of Dragomir's bust, located above his desk. He was depicted with a likeness that was uncanny, the artist was truly talented to have created such a piece. His appearance was regal, dressed in a deep-red collared shirt with silver accents and white lace. The expression on his face was neutral with a glint of mischief in his eyes like he had many secrets to keep.
As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew him well. Well enough to know he was a literary man, and a password would be his preferred style. She'd spent enough time with him in this very room to have a grasp of his inner workings and the details of his character. She remembered a specific book he fancied that was commonly placed by his bedside table, filled with short stories and poems. One page in particular had been previously folded on the corner, a quote standing out to her amongst the rest...
"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before." She murmured.
Astarion looked at her curiously until a soft clack was heard, followed by the bookcase sliding away to reveal a unique hidden door. "Bravo."
She smiled and rubbed the back of her neck. "I'd be ashamed if I couldn't do this much."
Astarion went towards the silver door to work his dexterous fingers, but as he rubbed his hands along the sturdy metal grooves there was no keyhole or handle of any kind. Lockpicking was impossible. He clicked his tongue.
"Tsk. Of course, it wouldn't be so easy. He's the definition of paranoia. Rightfully so."
Tav scanned the door, trying to read what was written against the surface but couldn't understand a single word of it. In fact, he'd never seen this type of text before. "What is this drivel?"
"It's written in Vampiric."
Astarion and Tav spun around to the unknown voice. He whipped out his daggers, ready to thrust his blades into the enemy's chest cavity.
"Wait!" Orianna tugged on Astarion's cloak to stop him from charging. "It's Viktor."
Astarion ceased, eyes narrowing as he measured the spawn in front of them, scanning him suspiciously. He didn't appear to possess a single weapon on his person and if his perception was correct, he showed no hostility. He'd give him the benefit of the doubt for now, only because he trusted Orianna. He stood up straight and sheathed his daggers.
"What are you doing here?" Orianna asked, the worry clear in her voice.
"I told you, didn't I? That I would help you with anything you need."
Orianna looked at him with confusion. When he'd said he'd help her with anything, she hadn't thought he'd literally meant everything. "If Dragomir finds out you're helping us he'll kill you."
"I died a long time ago, my Lady. I've been nothing but a husk ever since." His lips quirked but it wasn't a true smile while that usual melancholy lingered in his eyes. He looked at the other companions, pausing a while longer on Astarion before bringing his attention back to Orianna. "Turns out, I'm not the only friend you have in dark places..."
Quietly stepping into the room from the hall was someone Orianna hadn't expected.
"Irina?" She blinked, staring at the Half-Drow in bewilderment.
"Don't look so shocked. I'm not only here for you. The way I see it, you and your friends are the best chance I have of freedom. I'm not going to miss this opportunity."
"That's all fine and dandy on paper, if it weren't for a tiny detail." He stared seriously. "You'll be subservient if the bastard wakes up."
"If that happens be so kind as to knock me unconscious rather than kill me. That is, if you can." Irina said saucily back.
Astarion smirked. Placing a hand on his hip he made a gesture like he was examining his nails before raising his chin in that signature, mocking way. "Oh please, your best couldn't compete with my worst."
"Sounds like a challenge if I've ever heard one."
"Irina, enough please." Viktor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You're never any fun, Viktor." She faked a frown, nudging him playfully.
"That may be true, but I have far more to offer because of it. While you and our siblings basked in your luxuries, I was studying everything I could about our master, including his ancient language."
He walked up to the door and looked at the symbols, rubbing his fingers along the grooves. "It reads... If given one, you'll have many or none."
"Ugh, I always hated riddles..." Tav grumbled, knowing how hopeless he was at solving them. Of course, once the answer was revealed he'd be dumbfounded that he hadn't come up with the answer to something so elementary.
Astarion crossed his arms and furrowed his brow in thought. Often the simplest of riddles were the most difficult to solve, but he had a gut feeling, an inkling that he already knew the answer. Maybe it was because it was something he was never given, something he only recently had a grasp of...
"The answer is a choice."
Viktor looked at Astarion and nodded in agreement, turning back to respond to the door in Vampiric with a low voice. The door shuddered and parted down the middle, the metal sliding away to reveal a staircase that led down into pitch black depths.
"How did you figure that out so fast?" Orianna asked him curiously.
"It was a feeling. Dragomir is giving us one right now— to choose whether we proceed or not. To enter at our own risk and live with the consequences of that decision."
Orianna stared into the darkness, the stairs seeming to be endless, unknowing how far down they would lead them. The resolve she had outweighed any of the fears that whispered in the back of her mind. She would no longer live a life that was ruled by fear.
"Let's go."
...
As they walked down the steps Tav lost track of how many they had taken. He was the only one without Darkvision, but thanks to the warm yellow light cast by the Blood of Lathander on Orianna's back he was able to see well enough. The walk down was quiet between them as his thoughts drifted. There was a lot at risk, not just for Orianna but for him as well. He had a life with Halsin to look forward to after this fight. There was no way in all the nine hells he was going to lose this battle while a lifetime of happiness was on the line.
"How did you two become Dragomir's spawn?" Astarion asked, breaking the silence in order to ease the tension. A welcome distraction.
"I was originally from Dambrath and a Madame of a classy establishment that catered to the filthy rich. I was better known as a singer and musician more so than an escort. Dragomir would visit often and watch my performances. Like a fool I let my guard down and fell for his charms. Soon after I was whisked away to be his mistress."
"Sounds like you had quite the life for yourself before that." Tav said, watching his footing.
"I did. I was in the prime of my life. Successful. Happy." Irina sighed. "That's what Dragomir craves— to take a mortal life and claim it for himself when they've met their fullest potential."
She glanced in Viktor's direction who was silent and borderline emotionless as usual. She decided to continue speaking, knowing he'd normally avoid talking about himself, but if anyone deserved to know more it was Orianna. Her brother's feelings towards Orianna had been obvious to her. She'd been gifted with the perception to discern the intentions of a man with a simple glance. Unlike the men she was accustomed to, Viktor's affection was like a father's. It was sacrificial, patient, kind, humble, honest, forgiving and selfless. Constant and unchanging. It was probably the only thing that lingered of the man he once was.
"The same goes for Viktor. He was an established, devoted Paladin from Neverwinter. A true white knight and guardian of the people." Irina could practically see Orianna's ears twitch with interest. "He had a loving wife, one with unparalleled beauty that could have married any bachelor, but she loved Viktor and his pure heart. They even had two lovely children together."
Orianna glanced at Viktor, many questions sitting on the tip of her tongue. She knew of his broken Oath after he'd been changed but she hadn't known of his family. That had been something he kept private. To think he'd had a life— a real life worth living with family and friends.
"Is that true?" She asked.
Viktor simply nodded; his expression unreadable. "He took everything. My family, my life, everything I once knew. I can no longer recall their voices, nor their faces... All I know is that they're all long dead by now."
"Viktor... I'm so sorry." Orianna sounded genuinely empathic to his loss.
Well, that was certainly reason enough to want to end someone else's reign. They had a half decent master compared to Cazador, but that didn't change the nature of their servitude. The mortality he'd stolen and the people they were before had been uprooted against their will. No matter how much glamour you could cast upon a cage it was still a cage.
"I wasn't sure of your motives before, but I'm certainly convinced now." Astarion said, no longer doubting him.
Viktor nodded in what could only be assumed as thanks. A 'thank you' for trusting him when they had every reason not to.
"We're here." Orianna spoke quietly, her feet finally reaching the bottom step.
...
Halsin stood by the door, listening closely to any noises from the hall. His arms were crossed, a finger tapping his bicep in a steady rhythm like the ticking of a clock. He was concerned for Tav, wondering if he should have gone with him, but protecting Gale and the portal was also crucial. It wasn't simply a means to get home without travelling a great distance, it was an important escape route if they realized they bit off more than they could chew. As confident as they were that they could win any fight, having a backup plan like fleeing for their lives was also a good option.
"Tav will be alright, Halsin." Shadowheart's voice was sure but also quiet. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, feigning relaxation when in reality she hated the waiting-game just as much as the rest.
"Thank you. I know what he's capable of, but I can't help but worry."
"He's probably the strongest sorcerer I know." Gale said confidently. "The way he's able to manipulate the weave and summon that much power has always impressed me. Not to mention having more charisma than any of us combined. He's somehow managed to get us out of the direst of situations."
Shadowheart smiled and nodded. "Even a scoundrel like Astarion has proved reliable. Let's also not forget, even though her magic has been restrained, Orianna is still a demi-god. I never thought I'd get to meet another daughter of the divine other than Dame Aylin."
"I wonder what it's like, to be related to the gods in such a way. Very rarely do they mingle with creatures of the mortal realm so directly."
"I'm not so sure about that, considering your former relationship with Mystra." Halsin grinned.
"I did say rarely. Not never." Gale chuckled.
Halsin smiled and put his focus back on the entrance, feeling a little better. He needed to place his faith in Tav and the others like he'd done time and again.
Everything would turn out alright.
...
As they proceeded towards the entrance the space became brighter thanks to the fiery glow of braziers along the path. The entire structure was built of ash grey stones with geometric patterns and measured symmetry. If this was going to end up being their grave, well, at least it was an impressive one. Astarion spoke up anytime he found a trap, disarming it promptly and moving onto the next until they finally entered the large open space of the crypt. Orianna stopped in her tracks, already feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage with adrenaline.
There it was.
A large black coffin sat at an elevated angle, perfectly centered in the middle of the room. To think he lay resting there, sleeping, vulnerable.
Orianna swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled out a dagger from her hip. She took slow and steady steps towards it, the others following close behind with Astarion there at her side. The anxiety was starting to build with every stride until they were right beside it. She looked across to Astarion with anticipation and held up her dagger, primed and ready to strike.
Astarion, having waited for her signal nodded and pushed off the coffin lid with a grunt. The other three were ready and waiting while Orianna's hand tightened around the dagger. As soon as the lid fell to the side she was granted with the moment she'd been waiting for. There he lay, sleeping, motionless. She brought the blade down without hesitation, stabbing with unrelenting force directly where his heart would be.
There was a gurgling cry of pain mixed with anguish and an expression on his face that she didn't recognize. Her heart sank as a cold feeling of dread washed over her entire body. The illusion faltered, the disguise breaking to reveal one of Dragomir's lowly spawn laying there in his place.
"I didn't think you had it in you."
Orianna stared in horror at the dead spawn, almost unable to compute what had happened. How had he known? Did he have that much faith that Orianna's companions would come to save her?
Astarion and the others looked towards the voice, a dark grey mist cloud floating out of the shadows to make its presence known. Some spawn and werewolves, ghouls and bats, his servants of the night slowly entered the room from the other tunnels of the crypt. They had been hiding there, waiting for their unwelcome visitors.
"I don't understand... how did you know... you couldn't have..." Her thoughts were confused and disjointed, trying to catch up with what was happening around her.
"A girl once told me, perseverance is what sets mortals apart. I never doubted your friends and their bravery. They would come rescue you eventually." As he approached, his misty form morphed back into his humanoid body. "Plus, I had a feeling your new lover would not allow you to be lost to me forever."
Dragomir glanced over to one of his favored spawn Devereux, the strong blue skinned Tiefling who had flung Orianna over his shoulder during her capture.
"Devereux, bring your siblings and take care of our other guests upstairs. We wouldn't want them to miss our hospitality."
"As you command, Master."
Tav's hands tightened around his staff, wanting to attack the ones that planned to ambush Halsin and the others, but he knew he should hold back to better their odds down here. He watched with hostility as the Tiefling spawn smirked, calling upon his other two brothers to follow, which were an elf ranger and a red Tiefling warlock. He also ordered a few other spawn to follow, most likely for cannon fodder. The group of enemies swiftly ascended the stairs, leaving them with Dragomir and his other little minions.
"Irina. I must say, your actions surprised me the most. I've always been aware of Viktor's animosity towards me— but you?" He clicked his tongue and wriggled his finger as if disapproving of a child's behavior.
Irina looked frightened, like she was regretting her decisions. "Master Dragomir... it's not what it looks like..."
"Don't play coy with me. I'm hurt that you'd betray me as soon as something better came along." He placed his fingers on his mouth, trying to hold back his villainous smirk as an idea came to him. "You know, death seems like the perfect punishment for someone who clings to theirs so desperately."
Irina gasped in realization, her terror slowly changing to anger as she clenched her fists, but the quiver in her voice gave away the deep-rooted fear she still had of her creator. "You would dispose of me so easily?"
"It's a waste, yes. Though, I'm sure I can find a suitable replacement. You entertained me well for many years, but you've become a bore. Betraying me was the most interesting thing you've done in the last two centuries."
Irina looked like she was either ready to flee or throw herself into a blind rage. Knowing running was useless she quickly reached to her hip for her flute. All she'd needed was a few more seconds to cast whatever spell she'd intended, but her master beat her to the punch.
"Ah ah ah." He cooed. "I don't think so."
Her limbs froze in place, eyes glowing red as Dragomir dominated her mind and body. "Damnit! Damn you to Avernus!"
Dragomir laughed maliciously, enjoying himself far too much. He then turned his gaze to Viktor and smiled in such a way that made the hairs on the back of Orianna's neck stand on end. She'd never seen him like this, so cruel and unhinged as he tossed a longsword at Viktor's feet. The next order left his lips with utmost authority.
"Viktor. Kill Irina. Now."
Viktor's eyes glowed red, gritting his teeth as his soul fought against the command with all the willpower he could muster. As expected, it was not enough, and it never would be. A spawn would always be subservient to their creator, no matter what. His body moved steadily as he picked up the sword and walked towards Irina.
Dragomir forced his control once again, pushing his demands into Irina's mind as she fell to her knees with limp arms, completely defenseless as she looked up to Viktor in terror.
"Master Dragomir— please! Kill me instead!" Viktor pleaded; emotion clear in his voice as he begged for his sister's life.
This was too dreadful to watch. The commands swirling with torment reminded Astarion of Cazador. It was a miracle he was free, unlike these poor souls who had to bend and obey, no matter how terrible the task. Their bodies were there to be manipulated like puppets, by a sadistic master no less, tugging at the strings with menacing amusement. Dragomir had done well in keeping the chaos of his true character in check, but now the self-deception was starting to crack, revealing a side Astarion was all too familiar with.
"Now, Viktor. We both know that wouldn't be a punishment." His smile was sinister. "Do it."
Viktor's arms pulled back and then the blade swung in a long arc, aimed right at Irina's neck. Instead of the slicing sound of flesh was the loud clang of metal on metal.
"Orianna!" Astarion called out in alarm, surprised at how quickly she'd reacted, stopping Viktor's sword with the upper hilt of her mace.
"Lady Orianna..." Viktor grit his teeth, feeling the muscles in his arms flex as they tried to overpower her. "I'm sorry—"
"This isn't your fault." She grunted as she planted her feet and swung with impressive force, causing Viktor to stagger back a few paces.
He regained his footing and held his sword in front of him, his body ready to fight and complete his master's command.
"Dearest, don't get in the way. You have far greater things to worry about." Dragomir snapped his fingers and the other night creatures appeared ready to start making their move.
Tav reacted quickly, remembering to pull out the scroll to cast Daylight before he got too caught up. He placed the blinding sphere in the center of the room, the bright light causing everyone to wince as their eyes adjusted. It was a lucky coincidence that the spell didn't require any concentration, so their enemies would be dealing with the disadvantage until the end of their battle.
Dragomir hissed quietly, knowing full well he would have to deal with that spell eventually but not appreciating it all the same. Turning into mist or regaining health would be out of the question, but no matter, the odds were still in his favor.
"I'm not done!"
Tav quickly followed up with a powerful fireball, aiming for a group of the weaker enemies that had bunched up, making sure to get Dragomir in the blast radius. A few bats and a young spawn were practically incinerated on impact, but the Vampire merely flinched and brushed his arm to remove the ash off his coat.
"I'll take great pleasure in disposing of you, Lizard."
...
Halsin was the first to sense the air shift. He backed away a few paces from the door as he felt his instincts prickle on the back of his neck, the beast inside of him preparing for battle.
"What's wrong?" Shadowheart could see the change in Halsin's body language and stood from the bed, picking up her spear and shield.
"They know we're here."
Gale's hands tightened around his staff as he crouched down in hiding, staying in the furthest corner of the room, maintaining his concentration from a safe position. He had no doubt he could keep it open even if he took a few hits and received some damage, but if he went down their escape would be lost.
The door burst open, being kicked in with enough force to make the wood crack. Luckily they weren't surprised in the slightest and followed up with the first attacks. Halsin cast moonbeam right on top of Devereux, making the entrance a painful path of radiant damage for them to go through if they wanted to enter the room. He followed up by turning into his wild shape, deciding on an Air Myrmidon. He planned to do what he could in tanking most of the damage, providing the defense his companions needed.
Shadowheart went next, summoning a Deva to aid them. She then cast Protection from Evil and Good onto Gale, giving him a little buff to help him against their undead foes.
"Seems you three will do well in keeping me entertained."
Devereux grinned, taking the damage from the moonbeam with a small grunt as he ran into the room with his two-handed Warhammer. His attacks were unrelenting, heavy swings coming at Halsin one after another.
The druid took the hits like a champ and managed to dodge the rest of them. Fighters were always hard to deal with for this reason alone, they were relentless. He needed to make sure he did his part in keeping Gale safe, for if he let this Tiefling spawn get past him it could mean trouble.
Since Gale's concentration was preoccupied, he was left to cast any damage spells he could conjure up. He started with something simple, wanting to guarantee a hit on their foes. Devereux was undoubtedly their greatest threat, so he aimed all of his magic missiles in his direction. Every single one making contact.
The warlock was about to cast Tasha's Hideous Laughter on Shadowheart but Gale reacted quickly, countering the spell.
"Better luck next time."
They could already tell this was going to be a drawn-out fight, spell after spell and one weapon swing after another. Hopefully their companions were doing alright on their end.
...
Orianna was still clashing weapons with Viktor, trying to keep him at bay as he targeted Irina again and again. If only she could cast a spell like Sanctuary, anything to put Irina out of harm's way. The Blood of Lathander was doing its job, blinding any foe near her to diminish their accuracy. She had managed to dispose of a few bats and swing at some ghouls, but the two werewolves were impossible for her to manage with their resistance to weapon attacks.
Thankfully Tav knew this well enough and focused on them, while Astarion did what he did best. Having consumed a Bloodlust Elixir he was disposing of enemies left and right with critical hits by his daggers and handheld crossbow. Their sheer numbers were making it difficult though. No matter how many fell there was still another wolf or creature to attack them with measly hits, but enough to wear them down. Exhaustion was starting to kick in for the three of them.
Orianna panted but continued to hold her ground, determination clear in her eyes.
"Why are you doing this? You have no reason to protect me... Just worry about yourself!" Irina yelled.
She was still stuck in the same position, on her knees, waiting for the inevitable moment when her brother's sword would cut her down. Dragomir could have ordered her to slit her own throat if he wanted, but she knew this was also a means to punish Viktor, who couldn't bare to take the life of another without just cause. She had nearly accepted her fate, but Orianna guarded her like she was one of her own and it gave her the smallest glimmer of hope that maybe she could see another day.
"I won't abandon you. We're friends, aren't we?" Orianna glanced at her with a meaningful smile before bringing her focus back to the task at hand.
Irina could feel Orianna's warmth and sincerity. Her words had touched her cold dead heart, so much so that her vision became blurry and tears flooded her eyes. Other than Viktor, who had been the last person to stand up for her? When had she last had someone to call a friend? She'd done nothing to deserve the demi-god's kindness, yet here she was receiving it.
"How touching." Dragomir purred, postponing his involvement for long enough. "But I've waited too long for my orders to be fulfilled. As the saying goes, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself."
He cast Misty Step and crossed the vast space between them, placing himself in front of his Half-Drow spawn. Although Orianna's reaction had been fast before she was far too tired. His long fingers gripped Irina by the throat and pulled her up to her feet. His clawed hand flattened and his arm pulled back, thrusting it forward with a swiftness that caused it to blur as it plunged through her chest. His fingers tightened around the slippery beating organ and tore it from her body. He held up her heart as if fascinated by it before crushing it between his fingers with a sickening gush of dark red blood. The imagery mirrored a revolting Bhaalist ritual.
"Irina!" Viktor cried out.
Dragomir laughed and tossed her body away like a rag doll. The Paladin, no longer under his Master's orders, dove to catch her and dropped to his knees with her limp body. He glanced at the gaping wound between her breasts and then up into her blank wide eyes. His breath quivered when he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, hand caressing the back of her head as he cradled her with care. His head tilted back as he wailed, a sound stricken with grief. The type of heart wrenching sound Orianna imagined he made when he had lost his family.
"Goodness Viktor, I didn't know you cared for her that much." He sounded bemused, casually wiping the blood from his hand with a handkerchief.
Tav and Astarion looked over with disbelief, having been tied up with the vampire Lord's servants. They were both covered in splattered blood and other substances like dirt and ash, whatever happened to stick to their clothes during the clashing of weapons and spells. Dragomir walked a few paces away from his useless spawn and then turned to bring his attention back to Orianna who, rather than look defeated, had a fire burning in her eyes. A look of vengeance.
As Astarion and Tav ran over to Orianna's side she no longer had any doubt that this Vampire was a monster. Whatever memory she had of the person he was meant nothing. That version of him had vanished ages ago. He'd turned from a reasonable vampire with a unique outlook to an obsessed madman who no longer valued anything except himself and the cure for vampirism.
His red eyes searched Orianna's golden hues for answers, but a look really could speak a thousand words. Even though the odds were against them, bodies battered and bruised, their mental strength at the brink of exhaustion— their determination was still present in all of their expressions.
"So, you're still adamant on fighting?"
"I will fight you until my last breath."
He chuckled and shook his head. "That stubbornness of yours never gets old. You truly intend to kill me— even after all we've shared? All I've given you?"
She looked at him, flabbergasted. "Gods above— you're delusional! Whatever ignorant girl you remember, she no longer exists. Don't you get it? I despise you."
He sighed and gazed at her like she was the one with delusions.
"I cherished you. Perhaps not in the way you're used to, but it is the only way I know how." He placed a hand over his heart, the very heart she'd intended to stab and put an end to this madness. "I love you, Orianna."
"How dare you say those words to me! You'll continue to take from me, piece by piece until there is nothing left. I would rather die than be subjected to an eternity with you!"
As the conflict continued, Astarion stood there quietly, ready for anything. So was Tav, though he was looking a little worse for wear. Even after the disposal of many foes they were still surrounded by vampire spawn and their Master. They could only hope Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart were doing better than they were. Astarion looked at Orianna whose body seemed to tremble, not with fear but with rage, a sort of anger he'd never expected to see from her. He felt an odd shudder of fright, similar to the quake of one's body to a sudden drop in temperature.
What's this strange sensation?
She closed her eyes and gripped the collar around her neck, managing to slip two fingers past its tight chokehold and pull with enough force to chafe her fair skin.
"My sunbeam, I already told you. It's pointless."
Astarion could hear her muttering under her breath like she was chanting, ears perking when he caught her praying. It wasn't just a prayer to her deity, Pelor. She was praying to some deeper part of herself.
Dragomir having only two expressions, mockery or enjoyment, looked concerned for the first time. Apprehension could be seen in his eyes, like he'd miscalculated. Orianna was not just an immortal with special blood, she was a demi-god, the daughter of a powerful deity.
"Father... help me find the strength within myself... the power of your divinity that flows through me... the perseverance gifted by my mortal mother... with my own power... I must end this..."
The glimmer within her had been a small candle flame before, but suddenly it shone with the blinding light of the sun. She could sense the dormant power inside busting at the seams, begging to be released. A light from her chest glowed and spread along the rest of her body, all the way to the tips of her toes and fingers and into the strands of her hair. The Susser Bloom gems turned from vibrant blue to sickly grey, the collar snapping off her neck.
Astarion stared in awe like he was seeing a real goddess in the flesh. She looked ethereal and otherworldly as her hair defied gravity, floating above her like she was feather-falling from a great height.
"I may have underestimated you, Orianna. But make no mistake. You will still lose."
She opened her eyes, irises sparkling with golden light like the rest of her body.
"Your darkness will no longer snuff out my light, Dragomir. This crypt will be your grave." Her arm lifted and outstretched above her towards the sky.
Sunder the Heretical!
A radiant cataclysm crashed down from the heavens with divine intervention, beams of light sparking with explosive force. The screams of all the enemies rung within the room. They wailed in agony and died almost instantly. It was a sight to behold as they perished into dust.
All but Dragomir.
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The password was a quote from Edgar Allan Poe btw ;)