Chapter 14 - A Tale of Two Vampires
The next morning, as they got ready to leave for the crèche, Del couldn't look anyone in the eye. A mixture of arousal, embarrassment, and anger had kept her from falling asleep last night, so she had been up for a few hours before exhaustion worked its magic on her. Now she sat on a log, sipping a cup of tea like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to this plane of existence.
She had pointedly ignored Astarion when he came out of his tent, looking fresh as a daisy, and had greeted her with a large smile on his face. Not that he was getting special treatment. Everyone else was lucky if she even grunted at them. At one point, Shadowheart leaned towards Karlach and asked, "Do you know what's wrong with her?"
The tiefling had merely shrugged.
Lae'zel had walked up to her and balked once she had a good look at her face. "What happened to you? Your eyes look bruised and you're even paler than Astarion."
Del had gritted her teeth and just stared up at the githyanki. Unfortunately, the death glare didn't seem to work on the woman as well as it had on anyone else.
Karlach was making signals to Lae'zel behind Del's back, which only managed to confuse her more.
"I don't know what you're saying and you look foolish," Lae'zel told the tiefling. She turned back to Del. "Come. If you're feeling ill again, then maybe the ghustil can help. Removing the parasites are a priority. We will celebrate our victory over them once it is done."
When Del stood, she could feel the stares of her companions, but she ignored them. She set aside the cup she was holding. "Let's go," she told Lae'zel, walking towards the trail that would take them to the monastery. Lae'zel immediately joined her side and Del could hear the rest of them slowly follow behind. Except Halsin, who was staying behind to watch the camp.
By the time they reached the ground floor of the monastery and escaped, Del was exhausted. She sat on the stairs just outside the entrance way with her teammates, catching her breath. It went about as well as expected. First, the ghustil almost killed Lae'zel, then Vlaakith tried to get them to kill the Dream Guardian, and then upon their return from the Astral plane, they were immediately assaulted by nearly the entire crèche. Del had avoided the rooms full of children and the room with the egg, of course. The easiest thing they did in that entire area was retrieve the Blood of Lathander, which now sat safely inside of her pack.
Making wine-filled kobolds explode had been pretty entertaining if she was honest with herself. It was hard being an assassin if you didn't enjoy a little bloodshed every now and then.
As she eyed everyone else, she saw how tired they were, as well. Lae'zel in particular was in a foul mood. Not only had her own people turned on her, but her goddess queen had as well, and she was dealing with a crisis of faith. She had managed to convince herself it was all a test in order to get through the fight, but Del could tell it was flimsy and Lae'zel would probably need some time to process what happened later tonight.
The sun was already starting to set on them. They had spent all day in the monastery and crèche. Del worked up what energy she had left and shuttled her companions back to camp. Luckily, Halsin was already preparing a soup for their dinner. Del's stomach was rumbling from hunger.
Everyone got cleaned up as best they could after a day's worth of fighting. As they sat around the fire, eating their dinner, they all had smears of blood and soot and dirt that they couldn't quite remove, but no one cared at that moment. After the day they had, being able to sit around a warm fire, talking about mundane things was more important. Shadowheart laughed at something Karlach had said and Gale was arguing with Astarion. Del wasn't paying attention to any conversation specifically and just allowed the noise to flow around her. It was comfortable.
When everyone was done eating, Del grabbed their empty bowls and spoons and headed over to a small run-off that trickled down the cliff side and around their campsite. It wasn't enough to bathe in, but it was good enough to clean their dishes.
As she finished with the last bowl, Del glanced up and saw Astarion approaching her, a small cloth in hand.
"Did you need something," she asked him, her eyes on the bowl she was rinsing. She might have sounded a little petulant. She was still mad at him for last night.
He crouched next to her and reached for the lapel of her blouse.
"Whoa," she said, pulling away so fast she fell back into the grass, the bowl falling next to her.
"What do you think you're doing," she asked with a frown.
He tsked at her. "You're bleeding," he explained, sounding exasperated. "Your scabs must have opened up when we were fighting. I've been smelling it since we left the monastery."
Del's hand went to her neck where he had bit her last night and when she pulled it away it was covered in fresh blood. Shadowheart had healed her of her wounds from fighting the githyanki, so if Astarion smelled her blood, he would know it was the only culprit. Thankfully, the shirt she wore today was black, so what had seeped into the threads wasn't too noticeable.
"Good catch," she muttered, sitting up on her knees. She tried to ignore how wide his pupils had gotten, excited by the closeness of fresh blood.
He held up the cloth he had in one hand. "May I?"
She nodded and he leaned forward, wetting the cloth in the run-off before he pulled the lapel of her shirt away from her neck once more, baring the wound. He quickly cleaned up the blood that had trickled out onto her skin and then dabbed delicately at the bites. Del flinched a little despite his light touch.
"Apologies," he murmured, his head close to hers as he concentrated. "The blood is coagulating again, so you should be safe now." He ran the cloth under the water once more and then began to wipe at her temple.
Del scrunched up her face and tried to pull away. "Now what are you doing?"
He grabbed her by the chin to still her and continued his ministrations.
"You missed a few spots.," he tutted. "Now let me finish."
Del took a moment to look him over and realized he was spotless. How he managed that without a mirror she didn't know, but he had done a good job. Mostly.
He rubbed at one last spot under her chin before he finally released her. "There. All done." He smirked at her, satisfied.
"You missed a spot," she muttered.
He looked her over again and frowned. "Where?"
She rolled her eyes. "Not on me. You." She reached for the cloth. "I'll get it for you."
He hesitated a moment, but then relinquished it to her. She took a moment to rinse the blood collected on it so far and wrung it out before dabbing it across his jawline near one of his pointy ears. A small smear of blood had been left there just under his mandible. This gesture was probably a bit too intimate and sent the wrong message, but she found she didn't care. He'd started it, anyway.
Once it was gone, she leaned back, and nodded. "There."
"How do I look," he asked her, his voice acquiring the smokiness he normally used to seduce.
She caught his eye for a moment before she turned and ran the cloth under the water once more, using it as an excuse to not have to look at him anymore.
"Clean," she offered to him, wringing out the small towel.
He scoffed before settling into a more comfortable position beside her, his legs crossed. "I think you can do better than that, darling. I haven't seen this face in over two hundred years. I don't even remember what I look like. I could be hideous." She let out a short laugh. He knew exactly the effect he had on people. He wouldn't have been able to pull off what he did for Cazador if he had been ugly. "Tell me. Am I hideous?"
She turned to see him leaning back, his chin tilted up to the air as he posed for her. He got another laugh out of her. He smiled, too pleased with himself.
"You know you are not hideous, Astarion," Del told him. "You don't need me to stroke your ego."
He sighed. "Well, you won't stroke me anywhere else, so I'll have to settle for you stroking my ego."
The blush came to her cheeks faster than she had thought possible. He was purposely pushing her buttons, now, and she did her best to ignore it.
As he watched her, he continued, speaking slowly, "Unless… you would prefer stroking my-"
"You're beautiful," she snapped, not letting him finish his sentence. She didn't think it was possible for her face to feel any hotter, but it did. He had gotten extremely good at tugging at her proverbial strings and she was very annoyed by this fact. "You have a sensuous smile, a regal nose, great hair, and a mole right there-" she pointed at it directly "-that manages to add to your beauty and not detract from it, at all." She folded her arms. "Happy?"
He smiled at her, showing his teeth. "Immensely," he purred.
She had to get one last jab in, though, because she'd be damned if he was going to win this battle.
"Oh, and don't worry about the fine lines around your eyes and mouth. They just add to the allure."
She stood as he gaped at her, grabbing the clean dishes. Just as predicted, he focused more on the negative and totally ignored the fact she said she liked them.
"Excuse me," he asked, outraged.
She smiled in triumph. "Good night, Astarion. Hope you have pleasant dreams," she said, pointedly, before walking away from him.
"You were joking just then, right," he called out to her. "I don't really have fine lines, do I?"
She didn't respond, basking in the sound of panic in his voice. Pay back never tasted so sweet.
When she returned to the camp, she handed the cleaned bowls and spoons over to Gale. She returned to her seat on one of the logs around the fire. Wyll was telling the group about the time he took down a group of goblins who had killed a mother, but he had come in time to save the child.
"Is this when the Blade of Frontiers was born," Shadowheart asked him.
"It definitely set me in the right direction," he told her.
"You and Del have a lot in common, then."
Wyll glanced at Del and smiled at her. "I suppose we do."
"What's the worst monster you've ever had to fight," Karlach asked him.
He thought about it for a moment. "I've danced with a dragon before. I wouldn't want to do it again."
Karlach whistled lowly. "Did you kill it?"
Wyll chuckled dryly. "Unfortunately, no. I had to find a hole to hide in until it got bored and flew off. They are tough, big, and can breathe fire. It's a tough battle and one I wasn't prepared for."
Karlach turned to Del. "What about you, soldier? Biggest bad fought?"
"Don't think I can beat fighting off a dragon," she said, shrugging. "An aboleth maybe."
"Oh come now," Wyll replied. "You've killed a vampire master. I've never come across one before, but I've heard the stories. They are very difficult to kill."
"That's right," Shadowheart said, "You weren't here, Karlach, but Del showed off her impressive scars and one of them was from a vampire."
"Oooh, can I see? I love trading scar stories."
Del pulled her collar closer to her neck. If they saw her neck now, they would definitely notice the new bite marks over the old ones. "Honestly, the one from the werewolf is much more impressive," she offered. "I could show you later. I'd have to take my pants off, though."
Karlach grinned at her. "That's not supposed to turn me off, is it? Because now I'm even more intrigued."
Realizing how her previous statement came out, she slapped her hand against her face. Everyone around her was laughing, though.
"We've never heard the whole story," Wyll said. "About any of your battles. I'm sure I speak for all of us that we'd love to hear one."
Del glanced around at everyone and they nodded eagerly. Gale had even put down the book he had been reading.
"I'm not much of a storyteller," Del muttered, feeling self-conscious.
"You barely ever talk about yourself," Karlach pushed. "We've all shared stories, except Shadowheart, but her memory was wiped, so we can't really blame her."
"We're very good at interrupting and asking questions if you get stuck," Shadowheart added.
"Tell us about the vampire you fought," Wyll offered. "Have you fought them before?"
Del hesitated just as Astarion walked back into camp. Surprisingly, he came and sat on the log next to her. He appeared just as aloof as he normally did and no one commented on him joining them. As if this wasn't awkward enough.
"Um, alright," she sighed, "No, this was my first vampire. They're not very common, as you probably know. Honestly, I don't recommend facing a master vampire on your own, like I did. The fight was… pretty brutal. I almost died."
"Let's not get ahead of the story, now," Gale admonished, giving her a small smile. "Save the melodrama for the end, hmm?"
"Yes, tell us how you even ended up fighting a vampire," Astarion spoke up, leaning towards her. "You did say they were uncommon."
Del did her best to not shoot arrows with her eyes at the vampire next to her, figuring it would look suspicious to everyone else. She cleared her throat.
"I got a letter, explaining that a small village had been surrounded by this thick fog that refused to lift. The day would be sunny and bright, but the fog would still be there. No one could see into it and no one ever came out if they went in to investigate it. They were at a loss. People on the Sword Coast are surprisingly not superstitious, at all, so nobody had an idea of what it could be. Lucky for them, I've heard about this happening before, and I knew exactly what it was - a vampire had moved in and taken over."
Shadowheart handed her a waterskin, and she drank from it, pausing her story.
"You've read the stories about Strahd, then?"
Del passed the waterskin back to Shadowheart, wiping her mouth.
"He's one of the most well documented vampires," Del said, nodding her head toward Wyll. "There are other texts in my collection, too, that I read to prepare for the journey, but most of them were about Strahd, yes."
"So, what happened when you got there," Karlach asked, leaning forward in her seat.
"When I arrived, I had to make double sure I had everything I thought I might need, because if no one else had escaped, I knew I might not be able to, either. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been nervous. I'd fought various undead before this: ghouls, zombies, banshees, but this was beyond my normal skill set. When I entered the fog, I expected to find the village empty, but to my surprise it was still active. Some daylight was even making it through the fog, so they were going about their days as normally as they could, while hiding away at night."
"Well, the vampire wouldn't want to kill off his entire stock," Astarion cut in, looking at his nails as if bored. "Of course people would be left alive."
Del sucked on her teeth, before replying, "Becoming a vampire doesn't automatically increase intelligence." Maybe that was mean, but he deserved it. "It does increase the need to subjugate, though. And what better way than to make the entire village their thralls? But that wasn't the case."
"And how did they escape becoming thralls," Shadowheart asked.
"They were smart. Apparently they had a few old-timers in their village who remembered the stories of old. They knew the vampire had to be invited into their homes. They closed down all public houses before sundown and everyone locked themselves inside at night. The vampire had managed to capture at least four of their people before this, but afterwards," she shook her head in admiration, "they had basically cut him off from gaining anymore victims. There were a few newcomers, like me, who had come in at the wrong time or didn't believe them who had been taken or killed, but the villagers were keeping themselves as safe as they could. And it was working. Until the spawn started coming back. These were faces they knew and they went after their families, old lovers, friends. They begged to be let in and it worked for a few of them. After that, they stopped trusting anyone after night fell."
"So what happened next," Gale asked her when she paused for too long.
Del shook herself from her reverie and continued, "I went after them the next morning. Even in the daylight the mansion they lived in was guarded by a handful of wolves. They were easy enough to take out. When I managed to finally break in I couldn't find any of them, at first. I went through every floor, including the basement and saw no one. It took time, but eventually I found a secret entrance into the attic and that's where I found them. The spawn were still asleep and I…" She trailed off, realizing how this might sound to Astarion. She glanced at him, but his head was down, concentrating on the shirt he was mending. "I started to set them on fire," she said, softer than before. She frowned as she thought back to that day. "I thought the screaming would be the worst, but honestly it was the smell. I was choking on the smoke and the scent of burning flesh. Some of them tried to run, and a few attacked me directly. They managed to back me out of the attic and into the upper floors before I was able to subdue them. By then the whole house was on fire."
Shadowheart leaned into Del's line of vision and placed her hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Del leaned forward and ran her hands through her hair as she took a moment to ground herself in the present.
"Hey," Wyll said, his voice gentle, "If this is too hard of a story to tell, you don't have to continue. I didn't know this might trigger bad memories."
"It's not that," Del responded, rubbing her face. "Honestly, I'm glad I got that fucker. It's the victims that get to me."
"Their deaths aren't your fault, Del."
Del straightened her spine and gestured vaguely in the air. "I didn't know this at the time, but when I was back home and doing more research - in case I had to hunt vampires again - I found some papers that hypothesized how vampires are able to control their spawn. What is the 'science' of it, as it were. They believed true vampires had no soul of their own, but when they created spawn, they gained ownership over the spawns' souls."
"Why does that matter," Gale asked, though his tone was cautious.
"If I had been able to kill their master," Del said, slowly. "The spawn could have been freed. They would still be spawn, but… they aren't necessarily controlled by the same innate desire to consume as true vampires. Because they still have a soul."
"...You would unleash vampire spawn into the world and just hope they don't cause mass casualties?"
"It was a possibility," Del offered. "Even liches can be reformed."
She watched as everyone exchanged glances, as if they weren't quite sure she was in her right mind.
"Still," Shadowheart counseled. "You didn't know at the time and you were alone. You wouldn't have been able to fight all of them off without killing them when you went after the master. Right?"
Del stared at the Sharran and acquiesced. "Yeah. You're right."
"So what happened next?"
"I ran from the building thinking there was no way the master vampire could survive that inferno, but he did. He was half burnt and very angry when he came after me. He tackled me to the ground. I'd lost my crossbow at some point and hadn't had time to pull my daggers free. That's when he attempted to drain me," she motioned to her neck. "But I somehow managed to pull one free and stick it in his throat, stopping him. But not before he tore my throat out. I don't remember how, but I ended up on top of him and with sheer will alone I was able to cut his head from his body. And then I set him afire once more.
"I didn't know if it had worked, but as I made my way back to the village, bleeding profusely from the neck, the fog slowly dispersed. And I knew I had done it." She stopped and threw her hands up. "I thought it was a fluke. And the villagers certainly had a field day trying to decide if I was safe enough to be helped. I ended up fainting from blood loss in the bright afternoon sun. I thought for sure I was going to die anyway, but they had a healer who helped fix me up, once they had realized I wasn't about to turn."
"That's incredible," Karlach remarked. "I mean sounds like a bad time, yeah, but you still beat the fucker."
"Luck was on my side that day," Del insisted. "Definitely would not face one by myself ever again."
"Good thing they're uncommon then," Shadowheart noted.
Del felt herself grimace before she could stop it. She knew she would need to face at least one more before too long.
Shadowheart noticed and nudged her with an elbow. "What is it?"
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"No, that's not nothing," Wyll insisted. "Do you know of another vampire?"
She could just feel the tension rolling off of Astarion. Her tadpole wriggled with the anxiety that his was broadcasting her way. But if he didn't want to tell their companions about his vampirism, she could at least set them up to be onboard to kill Cazador. They all lived in the Gate and should be made aware, at the very least.
"There… might be one in Baldur's Gate," she admitted.
She watched Astarion's shoulders as he forced them back down to a normal position.
"Who," Wyll asked. "Maybe we can assist you and take this one down."
Del rubbed her hands together, trying to keep herself calm. "I have suspicions that Cazador Szarr might be one."
Karlach gasped. "No way. Hasn't the Szarr family always had a place in Baldurian society and politics? I remember always looking up at that palace as a kid, wondering what exactly went on in there."
Shadowheart nodded. "Even I remember hearing stories about the lavish parties they held up there." She looked at Del with a frown. "That's a serious accusation to have made for someone so well known."
Wyll was looking at Del skeptically now. "Not to mention there have been no signs of vampirism around the estate." He held up his fingers, one by one. "No fog has appeared around Baldur's Gate or even the palace, no sign of wolves or bats, nothing unusual anyway, and he is involved in high society. Lot's of people have been inside the palace. Surely they would notice if he was a vampire."
Del nodded with a sigh. "As I said, the Sword Coast isn't overly suspicious. They wouldn't notice the signs because they don't think to look for them. But I dare you to try and find someone who has actually seen Cazador in the daytime, or even outside of his palace. You won't find them. It's possible he's powerful and old enough he's learned to suppress the more obvious signs of a vampiric occupation. He was probably taught this by his master. And you can't tell me strange disappearances haven't happened around Baldur's Gate."
"Those are normal in a city as big as the Gate," Wyll stated, but he sounded less sure.
"Sure, they are. And that's the main reason why they aren't noted by the Fists. The normal seediness covers up the less normal seediness. And if he was careful and made sure not to take too many victims at once, over the years it would add up and you would never consider it. Who knows how long the so-called 'Szarr Family' was actually just Cazador."
Wyll looked troubled, but he leaned forward and said, "Once we get back to Baldur's Gate, I will look into it with you. You have my word. If there is better proof that he is what you say he is, then I will take him down by your side."
Del looked at him in surprise. Even though he wasn't sure he believed her, he still offered his aid. "Thank you," was all she could manage to say.
"Count me in, as well," Karlach added. "All I ask is for more stories from you."
"Not tonight, of course," Halsin cut in, smiling at Karlach. "Otherwise Del might run out of stories to tell for later."
Del sent an appreciative smile the Druid's way. She didn't have the energy to tell any more stories for the night. And she honestly felt like she was a terrible storyteller. On top of that, the stress of talking about killing vampires while she was sitting next to one. She was happy to concede story time to someone else. However, it seemed as if the long day had affected everyone and the companions excused themselves one by one to get some much needed shut eye.
Halsin had gone off to commune with nature and Del was busy stirring the fire back to life when Astarion said to her, "So you believe we still have our souls, do you?"
When Del glanced at him he was still sewing. One leg was folded over the other as he stared down at his work. She noted he had spoken softly enough no one should be able to overhear him.
After throwing a few more sticks onto the fire, she leaned back and asked him, "You believe you are soulless?"
He paused to glance her way. "No… but how would I know? It's not as if it's as obvious as, let's say, my arm."
Del thought about it for a moment. "The soulless lack the ability to feel compassion," she explained. "Actually, they probably lack the ability to feel most emotions, if I think about it."
"Aren't emotions governed by the heart?"
"Technically, emotions are created by the brain." Astarion raised an eyebrow at that. "Your heart stopped beating how long ago? If it was the heart, you'd be a dud. My point is that the soul is what allows us to actually experience these emotions. Without the soul, we don't actually feel these emotions the way we are meant to. Strahd loved a woman when he was mortal, right?"
At his nod, she continued, "But what happened when he became a vampire? He thought he loved her, but it wasn't really love, was it? It was obsession. He really wanted her because he couldn't actually have her, at this point."
Astarion put his sewing down and folded his hands around his knee, leveling her with a serious look. "And how do you know I'm 'experiencing emotions' the way I should be?"
Del scoffed at his question. "Because I've seen you get emotional, for one."
"How dare you," he said to her. He was being playful, but she knew he wasn't taking her seriously.
"Here," she said, throwing her leg over the log they sat on so she was facing him. "Some emotions that you can feel, that a soulless vampire can't." She held up her hand and raised a finger for each one, "Hope. Despair. Fear. Compassion. Peace. Gratefulness. Love."
"And how do you know if I've felt these things?" His eyes were unwavering as he watched her and she swallowed at the intensity.
Shaking her head, she replied, "I'm not saying you've felt all of these. It's just an example of emotions that only people with souls can experience. You've had to have felt some of these in your lifetime."
When he just stared at her, she sighed and leaned forward, her hands gripping the log in front of her. "It's not a competition," she whispered.
He leaned close to her and whispered, "You've thought about this alot, haven't you?"
Rolling her eyes, she moved so she was no longer straddling the log. "When you hunt monsters you have to start wondering what makes something evil versus not."
"Why do you care so much," he asked after a moment. "What are you trying to accomplish? We have the tadpoles in our heads that, for the most part, have been very useful, but we need to have them removed so we don't turn into mind flayers. Why bother with any problems beyond that?"
She turned to give him an incredulous look. "Do you want to return home and be forced back into the service of Cazador?"
"Of course, not. But that's hardly your concern."
"I've been on your side since the beginning, Astarion. Why you think I would turn away from helping you at the pinnacle of your journey, I have no idea."
He took a breath to say something before he stopped himself. He regarded her from the corner of his eyes as if he could read her. Finally, he said, "Well, it's not as if Cazador wasn't already on your list of monsters to kill, I suppose."
Del decided to not respond to that. If he wanted to make it seem as if she wasn't wanting to help him directly and instead was working off some list, then so be it. She was too tired to argue with him anymore. Astarion returned to being a silent shadow next to her as he finished repairing one of his shirts, but then once he was done, he returned to his tent.
Del laid down on her bedroll, having left it outside, and had started to drift off, her eyes opening and closing as she fought sleep off to stare at the twinkling lights above her, but sleep was starting to win. She had opened her eyes one last time to find an unfamiliar githyanki looking down at her.
She yelped in surprise, suddenly awake, and sprang away from her bed, her hands going for a dagger that was no longer on her. She really needed to keep a weapon on her when she was sleeping.
Now that she was on her feet she recognized the githyanki as Kith'rak Voss, the one who had been riding the red dragon, and with him was another one, but she couldn't see their face. As her fellow companions tumbled from their tents, she held out her arms to the side, cautioning them to not attack. Lae'zel was soon standing by her side, her crossbow already drawn.
"Tl'a Vlaakith," she began. "Has our queen sent a knight to slay me with his own blade?"
Despite the tension in camp, Voss did his best to calm everyone down, claiming he had come to aid them. After convincing Lae'zel that Vlaakith really was the monster in all of this and that they needed the help of the person "trapped inside the Astral Prism'' so they could defeat her, he gave her a psionic detector and warned them Vlaakith's army would be attempting to retrieve the prism.
Lae'zel, surprisingly, had seemed to have made up her mind about Vlaakith. Hearing that Vlaakith used the ascended to feed off of really had shaken her. However, having another goal to look forward to seemed to help her resolve. After Voss left and everyone had returned back to their respective tents, Del settled back into her bedroll. She eyed the shadows one last time to make sure no more interruptions were imminent before rolling on her side and falling asleep.