marlowemuses | 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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"Oh, are you a vegetarian?" Lenore starts to reply, just a bit of cattiness strengthening her tone, because she certainly isn't in quite bad enough a situation to just take that strike without response. But she doesn't manage to finish the last word before some kind of humanoid creatures attack them, infected with some kind of magic that Lenore doesn't recognize. And she certainly doesn't like the look of it.

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?"

Trevor just manages a huff at the jab sent back in his direction, though there's almost a faint amusement in his eyes at it. He isn't one to dish out what he can't take, and bantering is as much a familiar battleground as physical violence is to him. However, he isn't able to respond beyond the exhale of air before they are descended upon by the attackers.

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.

"I haven't," Lenore confirms, glancing back with concern about the strange opponents. She doesn't love the word 'hunting', coming from a Belmont, but better the black-veined beings than her.

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."

A Shared Enemy

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Apologies for the delay, this week has been very busy.

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