Debts Ch. 01

Of all the creatures of the realm, vampires have it the worst.

Yeah yeah yeah, Gnomes are short, waah waah waah. Dwarven men have small dicks, and dwarven women need to shave every day. Boo hoo. Orc girls can never get dates and human girls steal all the good orc men. Whoop de doo. Elves have the least cool parents, oh no. Humans live about as long as a gnat's fart. Cry me a river.

See, the thing about all those downsides, is that they're only downsides if you let them be downsides. Being short is only a hit on your self esteem if you let it be a hit on your self esteem. And think of all the money you save on... everything? Economies of scale are all in favor of gnomes... probably why they're always so well off.

What, you've got a small ding dong Beardy? Its how you use it honey, and believe it or not my dwarven ladies out there, some men like something to grab onto during the ride. You just gots to be confident.

That goes out to you too, Orc ladies out there. I've never seen an orc girl without a gloriously built body, yet they stumble on the approach when they get all self conscious about the tusks.

Don't get me started about family- at least you elves HAVE family. I don't care what your mother says Arelwen, you got to learn to stick up for yourself and tell your family that you're your own elf and that you are going to marry that ravishing orc lass, traditions be damned.

And as for lifespan, honestly, 60+ years is enough time on this dreary realm. If you humans plan your lives out right you never have to see anything twice. Its your own damn fault if you die alone in some village because you were too scared to see the world.

But being a vampire? How do you be proactive and look on the bright side when doing so will literally kill you? How do you put a positive spin on being hunted down by religious zealots wherever you go, watching your family disown you? Going through unlife with no one ever speaking to you, much less bothering to get to know you or appreciate your love of Heroic Era Lute composition or Valerian Marriage Poetry?

Oh sure, you might think that there are perks that make up for all that hatred and loneliness and skulking about at night perpetually being on the run- eternal youth, great strength and speed, enhanced magical affinity and unique magical abilities, perfect muscle tone... But like gambling at the great counting Dwarven counting houses of Arkamght, the odds are stacked against you from the start.

See, the power comes from blood. Not just any blood, but blood from sentient, thinking life. So you have to feed on civilization. As you might imagine, civilization isn't so happy about that. So you're not going to be welcome in any inns anytime soon.

What? What's that you say? That we vampires are murderers by choice, that we choose to kill when all we need is a little sip? Well you're right. Vampires actually don't need to drink that much blood to survive. A half pint, generally about enough to make a farmhand woozy, will settle your average stalker of the night for a couple days at least. But here's where the odds are stacked-

Its really hard to stop at just a half pint. Using any of your powers, even just lifting a particularly heavy object, severely runs out the clock to your next feeding time. And due to the whole being on the run all the time thing, you often don't feed for longer than you've planned. And when you're really hungry, the blood of you guys, its really really tasty. Its hard to stop.

It gets worse. As you might imagine there's a hard stopping point where if a vampire doesn't immediately cease feeding, the victim isn't going to survive the encounter. And the closer we get to that point, the tastier and more potent your blood is. We're no longer just drinking your vital fluid- we're consuming your life force. All the most powerful vampires of ages past sucked their victims dry. Its how they got so powerful, and why you guys don't generally sing ballads about their worthy deeds.

Take it from me. My name is Tallia, and I've been a vampire for the last 10 years. Its awful and I hate all of you. Its why I'm in this whole mess to begin with. I still remember the day of my siring...

People will tell you that female vampires are the brides of Alak-Kral, the defiler, the aspect of all corruption and evil. That we're practically succubi, creatures of the lustful night, and we are born by letting our bodies literally be raped by demons.

Hardly. I grew up as a human farm girl in a one parent household, living with my mother on the outskirts of Styrwood. My father had died before I was born in the War of Intercession, and as a result I was bored, stupid, and probably had daddy issues. Amidst the boredom and drudgery of farm life and the constant nagging of my mother, I dreamed of romance and escape. And one day, it came. Sorta.

A "traveling merchant" by the name of Casavir stopped by our home one rainy night, asking if he could take shelter with us. Mother was deeply suspicious until he turned out his pockets and offered her a shining gold brooch as payment. In hindsight, he probably readily gave the thing up because, being a vampire, he didn't really have much use for money, long term. But once that brooch was on my mother's dress, she remembered the days when she was with my father, when he called her pretty and blah blah blah. You know I said I was dumb- that dumb had to come from somewhere.

So he stayed with us and we set out a table for him. In hindsight I probably should have noticed that despite his thin frame and the coldness of the night, he ate nothing. But my mom didn't care, as she went on and on about Styrwood and asked about where he was from and he just nodded politely and nursed his wine. For my part I just stared lovingly into his eyes the whole night. After mom had went off to bed, I followed him to his chambers.

I didn't exactly have much of a plan. I came to his room, and dropped my rough homespun dress right there, in front of him. Daring him to take me. And yet, he just stared, and gave me a small smile.

"You don't like being here, do you?"

"Fuck no. Its boring as hell! My mom's super lame and I have to do chores all the time."

"Would you like an escape? I can give you a way out?"

"How?"

"Closer..."

Now, once again, since this is partly meant to be educational, a note about how siring works. Its not just if you get fucked by a vampire, boom, you become a vampire. My dead flesh down there will do nothing to your junk, in the unlikely event that you and I hit it off one dark, very dark, night. Siring is sort of like anti-feeding; its the one time a vampire gives up life force. And... to be honest I don't really know how he did it. But I remember he cut his palm before he went down on me.

I just thought he had some kinky blood fetish. Remember, I was an idiot. Anyway, the rest of the night was a blur, and all I remember is that the next morning, I woke up feeling... cold. I felt nothing, not even a heart beat. Until I noticed I didn't have a heart beat. My skin was ambient temperature and my eyes looked vacant no matter what my expression (side note: the whole vampires have no reflection thing? Bull-shit. Same deal with garlic and running water.)

I left the room to find Casavir gone and the house empty. Putting on a cloak, I walked outside into the cloudy morning, only to find my dear mother, the only family I ever had, blubbering to a guard about how some fiend had tainted me and ran off into the night. I didn't really know what she meant then, but I did know what the guard meant when he saw me. And subsequently reached for his sword.

I ran away, feeling like my flesh was going to melt off as the sun rose up with the day and the clouds broke. Luckily the town guards at Styrwood are like town guards everywhere. Failed soldiers, they couldn't keep up with a fit, terrified farm girl such as I. I eventually got to a cave past Dunman's Bridge where I hid out until nightfall. While waiting there even stupid 17 year old me figured out I was now a vampire.

What happened after that? What do you think? I survived. I got by on petty larceny, feeding on waylaid travellers charmed by the smile of some lost farm girl. I made only a few "interpersonal relationships" during that time, mostly with fences who didn't ask too many questions. Still, I had my standards. I never killed anybody. Not even those I fed on. As soon as I felt the rush of the blood really start, I just dropped them, right there, and ran. I wasn't going to be a monster, no matter what everybody thought.

And as the years went on, I got smart. Or smarter. I had to, to survive. I gained mastery over my vampire powers, especially Auspex, whereupon my blood fueled a perception of another's deepest fears and desires. This was handy when you're wondering whether or not the locals have gotten wind of you're presence. On top of that, I learned whatever skills I could whenever I could. I picked up a lot of illusion magic from a traveling circus, paid for archery lessons from a blind bowman, even slept with a greasy alchemist to learn potion making.

See, while your run of the mill town guards are basically jobworths best suited for hooting at women, rounding up foreigners, or beating up workers and farmers protesting tax hikes, every now and again you get that Dirty Harlan type- a guard on the edge, who doesn't follow the rules, just cold steel justice one week from retirement. I'd almost admire their integrity if they didn't universally regard my kind as monsters. You had to be on your toes when dealing with a guard who actually did his job.

But even then they had jurisdictions, and if things went sour you just had to run far away enough and let the attention die down. Its not like I owned any property they could confiscate, or family they could go after. So, while life still sucked (har har), I was at least getting by.

Until I ran into the Order of Eternal Vigilance. Oh where to start with these fanatical virgins. These deluded human bigots would set themselves on fire if it gave themselves an edge fighting a vampire. In fact, I think there was a separate offshoot of the main group that trained to fight that way, though I don't think their vigilance lasted very long after setting themselves on fire. They also didn't just go after vampires, but also any orcs, elves, dwarves, or anybody who wasn't human and going steady with a human. Did I mention that they could never get laid? I'm pretty sure I did but I'll mention it again. In my opinion they were just sexually frustrated men who needed to justify the fact they couldn't get any by taking a vow and pretending they were protecting the purity of the race.

Anyway, I ran into a group of them one night. Simple as that. Walking through the countryside, minding my own business, rounded a corner, boom. Bunch of Order Twits. They shouted: "Hurr durr! A vampieuhrr!" or something to that nature and I turned and fled.

Now like I said, as a vampire, I've got speed. Also I knew the area. So during the night, I left them in the dust. The problem was they're persistent, and there were only so many caves in the region. So during the day, they caught up with me, and I'd have to leave as early as evening as I saw them coming. This continued for three days. Three. Days.

As you can imagine I was really really out of juice by then. Sleeping doesn't help a vampire much, and I was starving from the exertion of running. I was feeling woozy, not thinking clearly. In the end, as I could hear their boots restlessly march towards my position, on the third night, I just figured the game was up.

What kind of life did I live? Was this better than being bored Tallia the farm girl? How could I have been so stupid? Shit. If it has to end it might as well end here. I crouched behind a rock, not knowing how far I had ran or how close they were, and marshalled my remaining energy for a shadow bolt, the only offensive spell I knew. I readied it for when the first order twit peeked from around from the left.

Suddenly I saw movement from my unguarded right. Startled, I let fly the shadow bolt, and soon enough, a figure fell out of the bushes, slain with a magical arrow through the heart. But it wasn't an order twit.

It was a human woman. She had lightly tanned skin and soft, auburn hair. It fell over a beautiful countenance somewhat marred by her staring, terrified eyes. Her body lay stiffly on the ground, her blue dress still against the night air, a bucket not too far from where she fell. Oh. fuck me. I just killed an innocent woman. Probably just getting water from the well.

The worst thing is, after I hid away with her body, I fed on her. I felt I had to- I had already taken her life, and it seemed pointless to let that go to waste. But believe me, I felt terrible. Well, no, I felt wonderful, physically, but as myself, me, who I felt myself to be, I could almost feel my unbeating heart sink to the floor. I was now the monster everyone thought I was.

Too ashamed to thank her for her unwitting gift of life, I walked dejectedly down the path leading to the well I hadn't seen when I took cover. I just went in the last 5 minutes from being terrified I would be killed, accepting that I would be killed, and then wishing I had been killed. In the distance, I saw a light. Knowing not what else to do, I covered myself with my cloak and stealthily approached, cursing the squeaking of my leather getup (side note: don't believe the hype. Serious thieves don't wear tight, shiny full leather outfits. I recently bought it from Sam the Fence because I thought it made my ass look good in the moonlight)

As it turns out, it was the light from a lantern, held by a small figure. I reached for my Gnomish See-farther-device-thing-made-of-glass and saw that it was a young boy. What was he doing out here? I had a dark suspicion, and morbidly, I couldn't help but approach him.

"Heya kid- what's your name? what are you doing out here at night?"

"I'm Tristram. I'm waiting for my momma. Who are you?"

"shit... What does... um.. your momma look like?"

"Oh she's really pretty. She's got auburn hair and the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen! If you saw her you'd know."

Ohfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. ijustkilledhismomma i'm a monster. Gahhhhh. I didn't mean to! I thought she was one of the order fucks oh god whyyyyy

"Are you okay lady? Don't worry about me, I know my momma will come back. She made me a promise and she never breaks promises. You should worry about yourself."

He walked behind me and patted me on the back in a 10 year old's best concillatory gesture. Great. On top of all this, he's an adorable little shit too. On closer inspection he also only looked half human. He had very olive skin, unlike his mother, and I could see small tusks developing. His father was an orc- oh double fuck.

"Say, where's your dad, kiddo? Is he going to be back soon?"

"Nah, my dad never came back from the Second War of Intercession... momma said maybe he'd been captured and ransomed and maybe I'd get to meet him someday... but I think he's dead."

gahhhhh. So he's an orphan. And he doesn't even know it yet.

"Look, its not safe out here kid. I'm sure your momma would rather you stay indoors. Its really cold an-"

"No! My momma will be back soon, and I'm going to wait until she does. And you still haven't told me your name yet, lady."

I told him I was Tallia, and that I was... a bard. He seemed satisfied at this answer, but my mind was racing. The Order would arrive here soon, and they didn't take kindly to me or mixed race children. I had to get him inside the house. I plied him with candy, gnomish trinkets, even gold-

"Listen lady, you seem like a nice lady and all, but what would I do with gold? I'm 10 years old! Vail never lets me buy anything anyway, said I don't know the value of things yet. So I'm just going to sit here and wait til she comes back. It was nice meeting you Tallia."

I was growing desperate. I could see lights in the distance. I had to get him to safety. I wasn't going to let him die tonight as well. But what could I do? Knock him out? I couldn't bear to hit children, and I heard their skulls are soft at a young age- my blackjack wasn't weighted for children- what kind of monster would make a blackjack for children anyway?

Finally I had an idea. In my herbalism sack, strapped to my backside of my ample right hip, I had a small amount of Wervoll Sap Putty. Poured over a surface, it had the ability take the form, color, even texture of whatever you moulded it onto, solidifying into a floppy, elastic mass after a few seconds of letting it set. This didn't initially seem to be of much use in convincing a 10 year old boy to get back into his house, but then I had an idea that was brilliant in its sheer awfulness.

I would make a mask. Of the woman I just murdered. And wear it to trick her orphaned son into safety.

I dashed to where I stashed the body, and looking away myself, I shut her staring eyes. I took out the bottle of putty, and patting the bottle as it poured out, spread it all over the dead woman's face. I made sure that all of her pores were evenly coated with the stuff, even a bit surrounding the inside of her nostrils and the fullness of her lifeless lips. I would only get one shot at this.

Satisfied with my work, I patted off the remainder coating my hands and waited the minute or so for it to set. Eventually I glanced back at her face, and peeled it off. The results were incredible. I had in my hands a perfect copy of her face. I only had enough putty for a half mask, to cover the front of my face, but with a hood it would probably work. A hood would also cover the fact that my straight dark hair did not match up to her short auburn hair. I took out a small knife and cut out eyeholes.

That reminded me, the indiginity I was going to put this woman through was not over. I needed her clothes. Lacking the time to strip myself, I simply took her blue dress and put it over my leathers. To my surprise she wasn't wearing anything underneath, which of course only made the sight stranger.

Taking the mask in hand, I pressed it firmly against my face, allowing it to envelop my features. The natural adhesive quality of the sap allowed it to stick fast to my face, and after an exploratory pull, my disguise was ready. I lacked a looking glass to check fully my appearance, but everything seemed in the right place. I pulled over the hood of my cloak, grabbed the bucket, filled it, and walked guiltily towards the boy.

"Momma! Wait why are you wearing that cloak?"

"Shh! Its time to go bed... uh, son."

"Awwh, but I want to tell you something! I met this weird lady named Tallia, who said she was a bard but I didn't believe her, cuz she cussed a lot and..."

"Just get inside, there's not much time!"

"Your voice momma- are you sick, momma?"

"Um, yeah, -cough- yeah its really cold out nowgetinside before you get sick too!"

I shooed him inside. It was quite dark inside the cottage, as the hearth was smoldering. Quickly I found what had to have been the boy's bed, and I opened up the covers for him. By Jesamine, it had been a long time since I had been in a normal home. He reluctantly climbed inside and looked at me expectantly.

"What?"

"Um, aren't you going to give me a kiss, momma?"

Rolling my eyes, I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Satisfied with his nightcap of motherly love, he smiled and turned over and went to sleep. adorable little shit. Sighing in relief, I sat there, wondering what I would do next until I saw a light pour through a crack in the door.

Shit. The order. Just in the nick of time too. I double checked my appearance in a cracked looking glass I found next to the kid's bed, by the light of the dying hearth. By Jesamine indeed, I looked exactly like her- but the pale undead skin of my neck revealed where her face ended. I raced over to the other side of the room, where there were some drawers. To my relief I found a green scarf, and quickly tied it around my neck, pulling over the hood afterwards.