Lenore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beloyaltome) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
marlowemuses2022-11-21 05:59 pm
beloyaltome) wrote in marlowemuses2022-11-21 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
A Shared Enemy
There was nothing at all unusual about a flock of bats emerging from the old crypt of the ruined castle each evening, nor anything unusual about the shadows or mists that tended to hang about the place. The locals avoided the place because of all the loose stones, not out of any superstition, and nothing untoward had ever happened to any of the local youths who snuck out there at night (aside from the occasional loose-stone-related injury).
But what was quite a bit more noteworthy were the stories that had been rising lately throughout the immediate environs of this ruined castle, about a beautiful young woman with vibrant red hair approaching villagers who were out alone late at night. Those who encountered her tended to be a bit dazed and anemic in the morning, but they suffered no worse injury than that, and--in the way of humans--the stories of those who had crossed her path quickly grew exaggerated with claims of being taken back to her lair of gold and gems (not that the storyteller could remember how to get there), or claims of extravagant sexual pleasures received from her.
Lenore knew she needed to move on, and quickly, but she had yet to find another place within a night's travel that was adequately secure against sunlight. So until she found a new place or some safe method of travel, she was forced to return each night to the castle ruins, curled into a cold and damp nook, waiting out each day in quiet misery. But at least it was her misery, she was free. She didn't know what came next. Of all the kinds of misery she had endured in her two hundred years of life, homelessness was a new one.
For now, she supposed, one night at a time would be enough.
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'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?'
Unsurprisingly, his mind wasn't fit to answer, only to ponder why he had been so eager to leap at the chance to get back on the road. His time spent convalescing after his encounter with Death was understandably dull, save for Sypha's threats that she'd do worse should he put her healing efforts to waste. Afterwards though there had been plenty to keep any of the villagers busy. Buildings to craft, roads to plow, resources and trades to improve. Trevor put his hands to use where they were needed, but building up a society was not his specialty.
His talents lent themselves to an older, darker purpose.
So it was that he found himself once more going out of the town to ensure the peace of neighboring areas. In that way he felt truly useful, and back on much more familiar footing. Besides, helping out surrounding areas also meant keeping danger far from those he loved. It was a winning situation all around, or at least, it mostly was.
Sleeping in mud puddles without a decent bath or tavern for miles might have made him miss the simple comforts of town life a little.
He'd heard rumblings to the north of a new breed of trouble. Magic and mayhem in the wrong hands once more, under charismatic leadership that could have a snail sell its shell for the baking. He didn't have all the details just yet, only that far too many were leaving hearth and home to take up residence in a city that supposedly could only be entered through selling one's soul. In exchange was the promise to rid the land of all darkness. Possibly rumors and exaggerations, but enough people nearby were going missing that Trevor set out to investigate what in those stories was actually true. He bundled up his horse with supplies and set out.
While on the road he came across another story, one that was enough to side track him to a certain set of castle ruins. Stories of a strange woman with hypnotic abilities who was luring in victims by the dozen. My, but people did like to make him parse fact from fiction. At least he hoped there weren't dozens of bodies to be found. Leaving his horse nearby Trevor crept around the crypt with a practiced ease, weapon in hand but for now at his side.
When finally coming across the pale woman he stood his ground, remarking flippantly, "You're quite the talk of the town. Surprised they haven't named a drink after you yet."
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"What do you think they'll name it?" Lenore asks, stepping tentatively out of the deeper shadows. She has only her nightgown to wear, which is sheer silk, and no shoes. She stole a wool blanket from a farmhouse, leaving behind a silver earring to pay for it, so she holds that around her shoulders now. She doesn't need it for warmth, but she appreciates even that small amount of comfort against the cold stone, and it provides a little bit of modesty for her skimpy nightgown.
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A bit of a cynical view, perhaps. He might be in the business of saving lives, and hell, if forced to admit it, he'll even grudgingly agree that most of those lives were worth the effort, but that doesn't mean he thinks that anyone's perfect. It's too easy for people to slip up and cast their faults onto others, to overreach and then underprovide. Even he's hit rock bottom a time or two in his life, and done less than he should have for it.
From the looks of it, this woman, this vampire in front of him has seen better days, too. He notes that she seems to be staying in these ruins rather than taking someplace nicer by force. Maybe she was weakened from injury, or she's trying to lay low for another reason. He doesn't drop his defensive stance as he wonders what brought her to this state. He imagines she has a reason that she hasn't left a trail of bodies, which would have been more conspicuous than the people left alive to whisper.
"Something else going bump in the night by these parts, or you out here by your lonesome?" No, he doesn't entirely expect an honest answer. He hasn't done much to deserve one, but given the other activity in these parts it doesn't hurt to ask and he's always been a bit blunt.
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"Pretty sure the town's been talking about you. But often enough where there's one problem in the open, there's at least two more waiting to be found." How often had he made his way to a town and thought he'd solved their problems, only to discover something far more sinister lurking beneath the surface? Though in this case, he'd mostly been worried about the cult that had been gathering up north, and wondering how far down south it had made its way already. Hopefully not too far as of yet, but Trevor also didn't count himself as lucky just yet. Or really, ever. "I'm guessing these aren't your best of circumstances, then." He sounded more matter-of-fact than anything, when studying her. He walked around the ruins, keeping her in his eyesight, but letting him scan the area with a practiced eye and ear to search for any rustling or strange noises.
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"Could be better," Lenore agreed dryly. "Ran afoul of a human forgemaster. Have to say, I've never been fond of the type of magic that turns corpses into horrifying monsters. Could definitely do with less horrifying monsters in the world, I think, not more."
Shrugging a little, Lenore looked him over, still trying to resist the urge to just burst into a cloud of mist and lurk for the next two days in the cracks in the masonry. "I have to eat. I stole some stew and bread and left behind a bit of my jewelry in payment, and the rest... nothing that can't be healed up with a few days of rest."
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There's a bit of a dry look sent her way at the mention of horrifying monsters, but he notes that she doesn't discount herself as being one. Privately his mind flits to Alucard for a moment, the half-vampire that Trevor has not only spared but befriended. Alucard is half-human, though. This being in front of him appears civilized and is certainly capable of discourse, but she's far from human.
Not that humans can't be another form of monster, either.
"I'm not about to argue that magic doesn't belong in most people's hands. Nor running through their veins." The argument posed for feeding off humans to survive he imagines is natural to vampires. Beings that see humans as part of their feeding chain, rather than them being an invasive species that shouldn't exist on earth at all. It's true though that she hasn't seemed to kill any of the villagers, whether that's to avoid getting noticed or for more altruistic reasons.
"Most people though don't agree to be someone else's dinner." He's about to take a step forward when a noise nearby makes him stop. Instinctively his weapon raises. "Including me," he murmurs in the direction of a nearby bush before a number of beings rush out to greet them. These are not the night creatures he's familiar with. These beings appear mostly human, if their forms a bit desiccated looking with black veins and glowing orbs for eyes. They possess far greater than normal strength it seems, ebony and red robes, and attack both Lenora and Trevor alike.
'Eradicate the impure,' they cry.
"Last I heard that it was a cuckolded finance," he quips as he fights, not wanting to give them the vampire, either. Not when he doesn't know what they might do with her or use her. Fending off many of them, as there's a lull in battle he tries to grab her arm and urge, "Time to regroup, I think. Somewhere else. I think they'd have a harder time following us on the eastern route. Unless you wanna find out why they want a vampire and a human corpse."
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She's stronger than she looks, but combat has never been a strong point of hers. It's clearly a strong point of his. She's fully aware now that she wouldn't be able to take him--oh and she does recognize those weapons, after all. That crest. A Belmont. She's lucky that he hesitated to converse at all. She's luckier that he was here at all. Unlikely that this is a stick and carrot con when he could have dispatched her on his own.
"Got it," she responds, before bursting into a cloud of bats and flitting off to the east. She swirls into the forest, lurking in the trees and hiding as she waits for him to catch up. She doesn't have long to wait. And while it's tempting to simply take this opportunity to disappear, she needs an ally. Unless she makes a significant adjustment to her morals, she can't make it across country without shelter, and she has no way to get shelter without begging or taking it, and either way remains a risk of getting ambushed during daylight.
The shelter she had has now been doubly invaded. So her best bet, again, is conversation.
Descending from the trees and taking human form again a safe distance away, Lenore hovers just above the ground, wary of this Belmont. "Friends of yours?"
Apologies for the delay, this week has been very busy.
While he has some weapons that are enhanced, he's but a mere human and has to run on foot once they have beaten back enough of the horde. He might be brash, but even he knows that sometimes it's better to live and regroup in order to fight another day. The only caveat is when the battle decides whether there will be another day or not, but so far things aren't quite that dire yet.
"They certainly felt familiar enough with us to want to get up close and personal," he replied, the facetious edge to his words belied by the darkness in his gaze. He gave a shake of his head, wiping a hand across his head to clean some of the sweat. "No, never encountered them before. I heard about them though, bits and pieces, if they are the group I was hunting." She had merely been a side tangent he'd stumbled upon when hearing the town he was passing through mention her presence in the forest.
"There's an old cabin on the edge of town we might make it to before sunrise. Word in town is that the owner disappeared some weeks ago, nobody's claimed it yet. We can regroup there." He didn't really care if she survived, but he didn't want her possibly falling into the enemy's hands until he knew what they planned. "I take it you haven't seen them before, either?" he questioned as he began heading in that direction, seemingly unperturbed about making use of a dead man's residence.
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She keeps her distance as they start moving, but alights upon the earth to walk and easily keeps a quick pace. Even though her stride is shorter, she moves swiftly and doesn't tire easily. "Though I confess that most of my interests run toward history, drama, and poetry, not ... well. Belmont stuff. Magical and murderous beings of the night who like tearing people apart. History wise, it rings no bells."
Her eyes linger on him for a moment, making certain of her assessment. "I'm Lenore, by the way. Formerly of Carmilla's court, before the trouble with the human forgemasters and their army of horrors. Are you really a Belmont? I didn't think there were any left."