Apostles of Doom

Hilda turned to find the two other vampires smoldering on the ground. The dhampyr was cowering against the wards, fierdburned but otherwise alive. She quickly cast an immobilization ritual on the dhampyr and turned to Jacob and the boy, who were huddling on the ground. She walked over to them, gesturing for them to rise. They did so shakily, staring at her in awe and wonder.

“I’m so sorry for the theatrics,” Hilda said, shaking her head. “It was probably totally overkill on the pyrotechnics, but it comes with the territory, I fear.” She gave both of them a big embrace. “It’s all right, relax. I’m still the same Hilda who came in with you. I’m just doing the lightshow so we can see to clean this mess up.” She pulled back from them to smile into their tear-streaked faces.

“Who are you, Your Holiness?” Jacob barely managed to ask.

Hilda shook her head. “I’m exactly who I introduced myself as: Hilda of Rivenrock.” She shrugged. “I may have omitted my title, but what with the urgent need to get people to safety, I didn’t want to stand on formality.” She grinned and patted him on the cheek, and gave Rogier’s hair a warm tussle.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You know what will help?” She reached into her belt pouch and pulled forth a small flask. “I think a small nip of this will calm your nerves.” She looked down at the boy. “And maybe an even smaller nip for the lad. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some cleanup work to do!” She stared at the smoldering vampires. “I wonder if there is anything left salvageable with these two? They aren’t dust, so there must be something left that I can cure.”

“What… what did you do to them?” Rogier asked Hilda, who turned to see him pointing to Vladimir and the other two former vampires, still writhing on the ground.

“They aren’t dust? You didn’t kill them?” Jacob asked, confused.

“Kill them?” she asked in surprise. “No, anything but!” She shook her head. “Now, normally, that would be the thing to do, but we are on the brink of war! We need intelligence! Information!”

Hilda grinned at them and moved to kneel next to the first smoldering vampire. “I cured them of their vampirism. It is much easier to deal with, and question, them as mortals rather than as vampires.”

“Are you going to cure them?” Rogier asked, pointing to the smoldering vampires.

“That’s the plan, however it’s rather tricky since they are halfway to charcoal. They are going to need to be healed, but I can’t really heal them until they are mortal. If I tried to heal them while they were Unlife, it would just wound them more.” She tilted her head. “Actually, that’s a great idea! I shall Harm them — it’s sort of like the reverse of healing. Normally, it’s frowned upon, but in this case, I think appropriate,” she said. “That should heal an Unlife.”

“What about him?” Jacob pointed to the crouched dhampyr, wrapped in the glowing strands of Hilda’s restraints.

She frowned. “That is a bit trickier. I may need to think about him. Which is why he’s restrained.”

Chapter 142

Citadel of Light: Early Third Period

“Whoo! I do not know about you guys, but I need a Bloody Tatiana!” Hilda said as she proceeded to mix herself one at the sidebar of the private dining room in which they had gathered to break their fast.

“A little early in the morning for me, I fear,” Rasmeth said.

Hilda looked over her shoulder at the apostle. “Nonsense! That’s what detox rituals are for!” She turned back to the pitcher in which she was mixing her beverage. “You have a nice relaxing drink with your meal and conversation, and then when it is time to go back to work, you just do a quick detox ritual.”

“That really seems like cheating,” Teragdor said.

Stevos chuckled. “That is exactly what I said when she told me! However, I fear I quickly succumbed to the wisdom of the mighty Saint Hilda’s words.”

Hilda snorted and shook her head at the statement.

“I personally think it is an excellent idea!” Timbly nodded, smiling. “I have to say, I have learned so much working with you folks. You really know how to afterlive!”

Rasmeth shook his head. “I guess; I shall bow to the wisdom of my elders!”

“Now, now! You go around talking about my age, and no Tatianas for you!” Hilda smiled broadly as she brought the pitcher over to the table.

“That is a very large pitcher,” Stevos noted.

“I know; I believe it is of orcan origin. I do have to say, orcs understand the importance of having enough to drink,” Hilda said.

Teragdor simply grinned and rolled his eyes at the racial stereotyping.

“I am sure Grob and his people would love to have toasted you, even as we shall,” Rasmeth said.

“Very impressive work!” Stevos agreed as Hilda poured his drink. “I would never have thought to capture Unlife and then convert them for questioning.”