Debts Ch. 01

I sat back down next to sleeping Tristram and tried to look nonchalant. I was suddenly glad to be dead; I didn't have to hide a racing heartbeat, because I didn't have a heartbeat.

Moments later the door was kicked in. Tristram began to stir but I quickly shushed him and kept him sleeping with his back faced to the door; they couldn't see his tusks that way.

"We've found you, vamp- Oh hello, miss-"

"Oh! You could have knocked!"

"A ha, sorry to have disturbed you, my good lady. We're on the hunt for an evil denizen of the night."

"Oh? How terrifying! I wish you brave men the best in subduing such a horrifying creature!"

He blushed, the swine. It was probably the only time in his life a young woman complimented him for anything. With a theatrical bow, he closed the door and left.

"Vampires? Did that scary man say there vampires?"

"Don't worry dear. That scary man was just an idiot. Please go to bed."

"If there were vampires, would you protect me momma?"

"Err, I'd never let a vampire hurt you, dear. Now go to sleep."

Tristram gave me a smile, and I couldn't help but smile back, in the dim light. And then it came back. Oh the guilt... I tried to tell myself that even if I hadn't killed his mother by accident, the order might have killed her and Tristram for "polluting the race"... if somehow that was a better outcome- But then on again, I had lead the order there. So whoopdedoo, still your fault, Tallia.

I stood up and gave a more detailed look at the cottage. Now that I had fed, my strength was coming back, and I could see easily in the dark the entirety of the cottage. It was of modest size, but well apportioned. Tristram's mother was not an illiterate peasant woman, as I could spotted a desk and a small bookshelf in what passed for the main bedroom.

I walked over and glanced through the texts. A lot of books on herbalism- I suspected that whoever this woman was, she worked as a healer or town witch. Yep, lots of books on plants and potion making. And then I found a set of tomes marked I through IV.

They were diaries. The woman (named Vail, as I quickly learned) had kept a detailed account of her life, and the feelings she felt. As you can imagine the voyeurism of reading about the life, hopes, and dreams of a woman I just killed and was now impersonating was very painful, but I felt like I had to read this... because comprehension was dawning on me that I couldn't just leave Tristram now.

She was born a silly farmgirl like me, except unlike me she had sensible (if strict) parents who actually cared what happened to their daughter. I could understand why she resented them at the time for it, but never really having anyone in my life who looked out for my future, I kind of envied the fact that she was sent off with the Priestesses of Valic to learn herbalism. That she did, and was bored out of her mind, there being no boys or other such diversions there.

Her life changed when she met Grobuk, whose image I could see on the Sketchograph hung over the hearth. He was a well built orc with dreams of seeing the world- I could see why some bright eyed and cloistered girl like Vail fell for him. Still, I couldn't really be critical, as from her writings he had a lot more going for him than my Casavir. He was a perfect gentlemen, and in the time she could steal away he romanced her like one. And indeed, despite her pleading for him not to go through with it, he went with courage to request her hand from her father.

To Vail's surprise, Grobuk's forthrightness in doing so impressed her old man, and they were wed. Yadda yadda yadda, they lived an enviously idyllic life afterwards. She left the monastary early, but knew enough to set up a trade as an herbalist, and he dilligently put off his dreams of adventure when little Tristram was born, choosing instead to work the lumber yards.

And then of course came war. Of course. What is it with men and war? Vail writes about how they argued night after night. Grobuk wanted to join up with Lannier in the Second War of Intercession, as Lord Lannier had made himself known as a great friend to the non-human races and was well regarded as not so bad (as tyrants go). But his forces were severely outnumbered and he'd need all the help he could get against the upstart Baron Sannvier and his half-sister Valerie, who were kinda cunts (as tyrants go). As Vail sensed, Grobuk also wanted to see the world, as he had told her when they were first courting. Lannier was also paying well, he argued.

Vail eventually gave in, hoping that Grobuk would return safely, his wanderlust sated and their finances a bit improved. The war seemed like it wouldn't last that long- most of the fighting was at Tarrymore Pass, and once one side gave in there, the outcome of the war would be quickly decided.

As one might expect, that didn't fucking happen. The war ground to an ugly stalemate for two years, and after 8 months, she stopped hearing from Grobuk. She held hope he had been captured and maybe ransomed back, but after a certain point she stopped writing about him, choosing instead to focus on young Tristram's development. I can only imagine how she felt when Lannier inevitably caved and signed a non-aggression pact with Sannvier, ceding some of the contested Orc lands in the deal.

It was a heavy read, but to my joy there were a lot of details, and Vail took friendly, slightly gossipy notes about the people she kept in touch with, as well as Tristram's habits and needs. She dreamed big for her son, and wanted him to study at the Academy- so she also wrote in lesson plans in the margins, to teach him how to read and all sorts of philosophy guff.

With this, I could... I could... gahh. I could be... Vail. For Tristram. So he wouldn't have to be an orphan. I wouldn't be the mother Tristram deserved, but maybe i might kinda sorta maybe be the mother he needed? Please? Oh Jesamine...

I shut the diary. I still had a couple hours of night, and I was strengthened by Vail's lifeblood- especially as I had taken all of it. I would have to be strong now, for Tristram, if I was ever going to even slightly repay the debt I owed to Vail for murdering her.

So that night I set to work. I thanked Lady Jesamine that Vail was an herbalist, for there was more of the sap putty stuff- in fact she was growing it on trees outside. Apparently its pretty good against constipation. Wouldn't know, hadn't eaten anything in a decade. I quickly ran up to the well, found her stiffening body and carefully carried her to the cottage cellar. Her workbench would now be my workbench.

I was really sorry to be desecrating her body again, but if I did this now, and perhaps could get a mould made, possibly fill the results with some sort of plaster, I could bury her with some dignity, before she started to rot. Pushing the unpleasant thoughts out of my head, I carefully prepared the putty. Reading in Vail's notes, I learned that apparently the translucency, as well as durability, of the putty could be reduced and improved respectively if I added Gwhrrmellow to the mix. The latter's usefulness was obvious; I didn't want to have to do this every night, even if I made the mould. But the former is of particular use to a vampire. I could guess that Vail often was outdoors in the sun from her complexion- Tristram and the townsfolk would surely expect that of me.

I applied the putty to Vail's stiff corpse. After evenly spreading it and once again ensuring that... all orifices... were covered, including her mouth, I let it set while I pondered what I would do with the body. I wasn't just about to dig a ditch and throw her in. I'd need to make a coffin first, and at least try to find a nice place to bury her. I remember she mentioned a waterfall near Rann's Retreat where she first kissed Grobuk. I'd try to bury her there as soon as possible.

Eventually the putty set, and in preparation, I, with some effort, pulled off my previous, flawed disguise. With trepidation I peeled off Vail's "skin", which would be now my skin. I just stood there for a while in the damp cellar, looking at her beautiful face. I mean I liked mine, I guess- it hadn't changed at all since I was human. I mean it got more sallow and lifeless, cause it was dead, but...

What I held in my hands didn't seem so lifeless. I could see in this tanned pseudoflesh what Grobuk saw in Vail. How much she was full of hope and life and... gahhh. And now I was going to become her. I stripped off my leathers and immediately realized that I was built... differently than Vail. I really hoped the Gwhrrmellow would help this skin to hold my ample...ness. Putting a hesitant foot inside Vail's, I wiggled my toes and watched Vail start to come back to life. I couldn't help but giggle at this- and giggling does not come naturally to a vampire.

I then remembered that the putty was naturally adhesive, and I had to put this on quickly. So next came the other foot, and with care I stretched Vail's cute butt over my considerably larger ass. To my relief, it held, and with renewed confidence I shoved the inner mouldings of her orifices deep inside mine. I was starting to get excited now, but pushing aside naughty thoughts, I stuck my arms in, making sure to even out any wrinkles, and then proceeded to pull Vail's face tightly over mine. Her nose fit suprisingly well over mine, and so did her lips, but I encountered a problem- I forgot to cut eyeholes or modify the mouth.

Stupid stupid stupid. I quickly pulled her face off mine and thinly sliced off enough material to make eyelids, but nothing more. The mouth was more... problematic. I had to carefully cut a large mouth hole past the lips so I could talk and such, but keep the teeth moldings in place- my fangs were the most obvious sign of my vampirism.

Kinkily, I was aware that if I redid the moulding, I could make a version with smaller pinholes for the eyes, and maybe instead fit in glass ones, and perhaps keep the entire mouth moulding place- it would serve as a gag then, with my tongue trapped inside a fake one, preventing any speech beyond muffled groans, but that was for later. I had to be appear as Vail, not a busty woman bondaged into some stretchy artifice of Vail.

Modifications done, I roughly pulled my new face on, aligning everything into place and making some exploratory gestures. After this was done I reached for the back flap and sealed myself in, letting the adhesive bond to my dead flesh underneath. It felt really really tight in a... quite exciting way really. In a similar manner to the tight leather, her skin seemed to amplify my curves, except now, I guess, it was my skin, and Vail's curves. I felt a pleasing pressure on every point on my body as the strengthened putty of my Vail suit stretched to accomodate my considerably more pronounced curves. Another quality was that with the Gwhrrmellow extract, there was a certain shiny sheen to my new skin- so that Vail's tanned body looked almost perpetually oiled in direct light.

I had to squeeze every ounce of my willpower to keep from fucking myself right then and there. I mean Vail's corpse was right in front of me, and I didn't want to sully myself even more in front of... her. I spent the remainder of the night trying to reproduce Vail's auburn pixie cut out of dried Salmar fiber. The results weren't that bad actually, and with a bit more putty I made some stick on eyebrows. As for eyes I actually already had false blue irises; they were originally a novelty from the east but were avaliable on the black market for creatures such as myself.

Vail was reborn that night, and the next day, to my glee, I could stand in the sunlight as long as I was encased in this putty based psuedoflesh bodysuit. I couldn't believe that up until now I just used the putty to make quickmolds of locks- it had so much... more exciting uses...

But I had responsibilities in the short term and long term. By Mudrak, I had a long term? I gradually got more into my role- as the days went by Tristram stopped commenting on how my voice sounded weird, or why I cussed so much, and with effort I made sure that to his mother's wishes, Tristram learned how... ugh.. people are basically good and all conflict can be resolved with compromise and understanding. I disagreed with this asessment, as the Order seemed to prove, but I had to remind myself that, as much as I was starting to love Tristram (possibly the brightest and best behaved boy I ever knew of), he wasn't my son. So I kept at it and ensured he'd grow up to love people in way I never did.

As for the local townspeople, they refilled their embarrassing potion requirements (so...many...virility treatments) rarely enough that they didn't notice any significant change when they stopped by. Eventually I even developed the confidence to go into town to buy things, having memorized Vail's acquaintences. I hadn't done such for so long, but Tristram needed things, parchment for his homework and you know, food. Having no need for food or other sundries for myself, I spend that portion of the profits on herbalism tools, rare ingredients, books, and... clothes.

As you may have guessed from my vanity purchase of the tight leathers before, I... like feeling sexy. Even as an undead girl whom men flee from in terror, I liked my curves and tight clothing that accentuated it. What, I'm needy like that. But I wasn't Tallia in the shops, I was Vail- so out of deference to her original reputation I tried to keep it reasonably chaste, opting for more colorful, flowing garments. But I still left a few buttons unbuttoned, if you know what I mean. And no one had to know if I was wearing leather underneath.

Concerning the body, soon as I knew the Order was no longer nearby, I buried Vail in a discreet plot within full view of the waterfall where she first kissed her beloved. Every week afterwards I visited her makeshift grave and, deferentially pulling off my Vail disguise, I talked at length about how her life's work was kinda at least going forward. How Tristram was doing with his studies and reiterating verbatim the conversations I had with people she knew, almost for judgment and appraisal. I also said I was sorry. A lot. This finished, I pulled back on my Vail suit and discretely came back to the hearth, remembering to kiss her sweet Tristram before morning began anew.

Of course, during my impersonation of Vail I still was a vampire underneath the disguise. But what if all those stories about redemption were true, and that now that my life was filled with borrowed warmth and I cared for Tristram and had finally found a way to be a mother- my undeath would be cured and I would wake one day, whole again and be the human mother Tristram deserved?

Like the gods would ever sympathise with me. I was still a creature of the night under my crafted skin, something to be feared and dreaded. And if I was going to continue to keep little Tristram safe, I needed to live, in my limited sense, and that needed blood.

Now don't get me wrong- I didn't suddenly think that because I was caring for a child I was justified in sucking random strangers dry. I still had a no kill rule. But mothering was actually quite a strain. The truth was that over the last 10 years of my unlife, being a thief mostly meant a lot of sitting around and waiting. For the guards to change or night to fall or for the mark to get distracted. And the actual action was a few minutes of effort really. Sneak in, pick a pocket, pick a lock, get out. I didn't have much expenses either, being dead and all, so I didn't have to steal as much as other thieves. In the off hours I read or slept.

But being a mom? Whole different story. From taking care of the animals (who all instinctively mistrusted me at the start), managing the herb garden, maintaining my own stock of materials necessary to keep up the deception and educating little Tristram in a manner Vail would have found acceptable- my blood strength was exhausted after two days. So I needed to make maximum use of the night. Further complicating my feeding habits was that I was now living in a house. A home. With a person I cared about. So I couldn't just leave the area if things went bad. That meant that if people started asking about the attacks and doing even a rudimentary investigation, I couldn't just flee and wait for the heat to die off.

So, at first I pursued my own kind- you know, thieves, scoundrels, bandits, people who wouldn't run to the town guards for help. Many of them were also killers so I had some justification for bleeding them dry, but aware of my responsibilities as a mother (the thought never stopped being strange to me) I still let them live. But to my dismay, the scum of Ailtrel Valley caught wind that someone, something, was stalking them, and crime plummeted in the region.

Now speaking as a mother and the head of a single parent household, its absolutely wonderful that I can raise my child in a wholesome, fear free environment. Speaking as a vampire, this was fucking terrible. So I now had to feed, gahhh... on innocents. Again.

I pondered how I would go about this for a while. I couldn't hurt them- that went against who I was now, and certainly went against what Vail would have wanted. But if they lived to tell the tale of how a gorgeous daemon of the night, dressed in sleek leather ambushed them and rendered them unconscious- well inquiries would be made. Maybe even the order would come back. All bad things for a vampire single mother and her charge.

I then came upon a familiar idea. I couldn't stop them from knowing, obviously, that something ambushed them. No matter how inconspicuous my bite marks were, they invariably would wake up several hours later with a headache, wondering what had just happened. Eventually someone would come up with the idea that a vampire was on the loose, and even with my disguise, magic could reveal my undeath. I mean, I didn't even have a heartbeat. It wasn't gnomish science to reveal me if the townspeople really put in the effort.

So I came with a plan. I couldn't stop them from knowing they had been attacked- but I could keep them from either reporting the encounter at all, or reporting the encounter accurately, or both. To preface, all of this required a significant amount of planning that luckily, my previous occupation as a thief prepared me for.

See, I realized that there were a number of factors that could keep a victim quiet about his nighttime encounter. One of which was sheer embarrassment. This worked better on men. Proud men who were not quick to admit that they were overpowered in the night and completely unable to defend themselves. The thing was, they weren't bashful about their defenselessness if they were overpowered by a fetching, well built vampiress. Because then that was a different story. "Oi! Jodan, Horomir! Yer wouldn't believe what happened to me last night, this huge titted succubi knocked me unconscious with 'er bum!"

Pfft. Men. So I needed to disguise myself as something more... conventionally monstrous. A troll. How to describe the trolls of our land? Well, they've big, covered in sickly grey muscle, with short doglike faces and snouts. Three eyes and sharply angled ears finish off the look of brutish power. The males have short fur whereas the females are completely hairless and honestly more terrifying. The whole fearsome body is kept stable on large feet, and the trunklike arms end in wicked claws.

But how could I get a troll mold? I didn't. Another property of the Gwhrrmellow extract was that in addition to being opaque from sunlight, it also changed the properties of the gum putty somewhat. When mixed in, it took considerably longer for the putty to set, and did so progressively. As such after an intermediate amount of time it was sort of like clay, and could be cut, and after more time, texture could be applied and hairs, moles, claws, and other additional elements (if applicable) could be stuck in to finish the creature. If the resulting finished mixture was laid thick, the "skin" was not too flexible and sort of like hide- if it was thin, it was more like skin or flesh. I could also use this expanded knowledge to improve my Vail disguse, finally giving her hair down there, so to speak. You know. For realism.