Apostles of Doom

The dhampyr looked at her once more like she was insane. “It worked out for me?” he asked sarcastically. “I had never killed a sentient creature for food, ever! As I said, mainly chickens. Occasionally I could get goat or cow blood if someone was butchering and my mother or brother could purchase it. I had never even drunk human or any other race’s blood before the vampire lord took me in! Do you know what it is like to have to drink blood that you know came from someone who was murdered?” the dhampyr demanded. “Then Vladimir, he would let me drain just a little bit of blood from the people we encountered. Everyone I spared, he killed. Eventually, I ended up killing my victims as painlessly as I could, lest Vladimir savage them far worse!” The dhampyr shook his head in what seemed to be great remorse.

He turned his head to face Aeris angrily. “So go ahead, do your worst! I have been through hell and there is literally nothing you can do that is worse than the last four months of my life. Just put me out of my misery.” The dhampyr sobbed, placing his head on his arms, which were crossed upon his knees.

They were all silent for a bit. Finally, Hilda spoke up.

“When was the last time you fed?” she asked.

The dhampyr shrugged, not lifting his head. “I don’t know… two days, perhaps.”

Hilda looked to Aeris. “Find him some fresh animal blood. I suspect he would like it still as warm as possible.”

“What is your name, boy?” Stevos asked.

The dhampyr sighed in resignation. “Rede. Rede Yondin.”

Hilda nodded and turned to the guard. “Make sure he has a chamber pot and fresh water as well.”

“We shall speak more later, Rede Yondin,” she said, looking directly at him, but he did not lift his head.

Hilda gestured and led them out. The guard and Aeris relocked the door and Hilda led them back out of the dungeon. Once they were out of the prisoner section, Hilda stopped and addressed the guard and Aeris. “This is very disturbing on several levels. See to his safety while I decide how to proceed. He is not to be harmed, nor interviewed by anyone without me present.”

“As you command, your saintliness,” Aeris said, nodding in agreement.

~

Hilda closed the door to their conference-slash-dining room. She and Stevos sat down in silence for several moments. Hilda sighed loudly and looked to Stevos.

“Well, that was something. I never thought I would be moved by one of the Unlife,” Hilda said.

“I could detect nothing but sincerity in him. Both in terms of the truth of his words, and his emotions,” Stevos agreed.

“As with me,” Hilda said.

“What is the saying? The worst thing that can happen in battle is that you discover your enemy also has a soul?” Stevos asked.

Hilda chuckled. “I think that saying was for conflict between humans, or mortal races at least. I am pretty sure it does not apply to Unlife.”

“True,” Stevos agreed. “However, where truly do the dhampyrs sit on the spectrum of Unlife? As you noted, we have cures for ghoulism and vampirism; they can be redeemed. Either through contrition or, as you did last night, for handling purposes. Revenants, zombies and such, those can be laid to rest. What can one do with a dhampyr?”

Hilda shrugged. “Not much. You kill them. The proscription is to allow them to have peace in death.”

“Yet if the dhampyr is contrite? Is, in fact, someone as this Rede appears to be?” Stevos asked. “If he were a ghoul, or a recently made vampire, he could atone, be cured and resume his life. Yet our only option for someone like Rede is death?”

“I will have to double-check, but I am pretty sure this issue is not frequently discussed,” Hilda said sourly. “It does not come up. Most dhampyrs are raised by their vampiric parent in the ways of bloodshed and terror.”

Stevos sighed. “We serve a god of justice. In this case, if we can verify his account, is death justice for him?”

“Probably not,” Hilda said, raising her arms. “But do you think our people here are going to be okay with letting a dhampyr go free? There is something of a grudge match going on.”

Nysegard, Pevnost’ Smerti: Atundown

Czernobog von Smerti rose from his troubled Atun-slumber and made his way out of his repositorium with unusual haste. He needed to get a report on the previous evening’s events from his liegenghast, Teodor. He was not in a good mood as he entered his study. Teodor stood alert and attentive.

“What have we learned?” Czernobog demanded.

“Vladimir’s squad was in the forest approximately a night’s march from the Citadel at last check-in. That would have been about two hours before you lost your link to Vladimir. They were monitoring the retreat of the mortals to the Citadel, as well as updating our maps of the region,” the ghast told his master.

“Were there reports of fighting in the region?” Czernobog asked.

“No. However, we do have a report from further back towards our main line that there was a brief period of intense light from the approximate region they would have been in,” Teodor replied.