“Damn it! How the hell did Vermillion get wind of my plans?”

A tall man stood on the veranda of the Barony of Reims, overlooking the river Cairne. His skin was pale white in tone, only further emphasized by his black and red steel armor, layered like waves across his proud chest. Chain mail skirted down from large, sharp shoulder pauldrons to his black steel wrist guards. Behind him, a large crimson cape fluttered in the wind, adorned with the sigil of his house, a knight kneeling awaiting the rising moon. His face didn’t betray a hint of his age, looking to be that of a 26 year old man with a strong jaw and profound blue eyes, although at this moment red hues were beginning to show through them. Other than some slightly elongated Canines, his teeth could be argued to be an image of perfection. In his hand was a solitary wine glass, filled with a viscous red liquid, which he sipped on slowly.

Traces of anger coursed through his otherwise melodic voice, which at first appeared to speak to nobody in particular, until a shadow dropped from the darkness of the sky to land on the Veranda with him.

The flicker of light showed another man, pale skinned, and dressed in the servants’ robes of House Vermillion, but bearing the same crest of a knight on his chest. While he usually bore an aura of arrogance about him, all vestiges of it were absent at this moment.

“Well, Asimore? Time is short. Tell me, how did Vermillion find out about you?”

“Fath…”

“Master. There are none around worth maintaining this… masquerade for.”

The sharp rebuke silenced Asimore, who bore no hint of the blade that pierced his throat, but was still quivering in fear before this man.

“Master Horatio, I do not believe Duke Vermillion is as perceptive as you fear. It seemed to me his target was the peasant with Diane, not I.”

“Tell me… Asimore, do you question my judgement?”

Asimore dropped his head still further, shaking.

“No, Master!”

“Then tell me… after he ‘killed’ you, what did he do?”

“He launched a surprise attack on us, master.”

“And what of Diane and the peasant?”

“He sent a bounty to a bandit group, master.”

“Then what happened to the bandits?”

“All of them… were killed, master.”

“Now then, tell me of Diane’s abilities, tell me of the third daughter of Vermillion. His fifth and youngest child.”

Asimore felt that his master was coming to his point, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Plus, he was sure that Count Horatio already knew all this information.

“She was considered a failure at birth, master. She couldn’t even manifest a mana heart.”

“Hmm, so you mean to tell me that a mere 8 year old child and her peasant friend bested a group of 6 bandits, professional killers hired by Duke Vermillion? Or, do you think it more likely they were chattel sent by the Duke to reinforce the cover of a professional agent? Acting against you directly… he was bound by Noble laws, he would know better than to do such a thing. But, as an accident, sending a man in secret to pose as a peasant to make this more… amenable to the prideful nobles, yes, I can see it now. A professional he knew who could so expertly dodge, that it would look so perfectly…”

The Count’s voice began to trail, as he looked far beyond the river Cairne, towards Versailles.

“Asimore.”

“Yes, master!”

His voice was shaking, and his eyes were closed. He was prepared for the usual punishment of those who failed the Count.

“There is something unusual about that… girl, this Diane. In spite of being… a failure, it appears she has not only settled in Njord, but has joined the adventurer’s guild. However, there are limits to what my little birds can tell me. I am certain that Duke Vermillion is up to something.”

Count Horatio’s eyes narrowed, looking as if he could see things leagues away, before he continued “Of my subjects, you know him and Diane best. Even if you were deceived, I hope this experience has been… educational to you. I shall offer you a chance at redemption. Go to Njord and take on a new identity. I shall offer you this chance only once.”

“Yes, my master! I shall depart immediately!”

Asimore knew that denying a ‘request’ from his master would mean certain death. To have received such an opportunity was so rare, once-in-a-lifetime would be the wrong way to put it. This is the first time he ever saw the Count show mercy, out of nearly 150 other failures, all less vital than his role. So could this be said to be a once-in-150 lifetimes event?

At the very least, he only had to concern himself with getting to Njord, and while he was only supposed to observe, perhaps get some revenge of his own. While getting a dagger to the throat is considered merely a nuisance to one such as him, the loss of precious vitae to pose as a dying mortal was of far greater consequence, and as such, was primarily what offended him. He was hungry, and would have to look for an… opportunity along the way.

Shortly after Asimore’s departure, another shadow approached Count Horatio from the darkness. This one did not manifest itself, and instead floated above the Veranda, blocking the Count’s view of the moon.

A raspy voice emanated from the shadow, with a series of unnatural sounds forming together to create a replication of language.

“Horatio von Krauss, or should I say… third Child of house Draculae, his Eminence, Mobius, first Child of house Draculae, has called the Elder Council in to session. They find your… recent actions most… concerning. There is… fear… you may be risking a major break… of the masquerade. They demand… your immediate presence.”

DAMN HIM! That Mobius knows exactly what he is doing! The greatest thorn in my side, a pathetic creature trapped in the old ways. If anything, he should be helping me! This is for all of us! Must we continue to hide in the shadows forever? To try and summon him now… clearly he knows what would happen to all of my work if I were to abandon Reims now. Duke Vermillion’s main army is on my doorstep.

Count Horatio gritted his teeth. All his planning, all his work, all his effort to legitimize himself, build himself into a hero of the people, to become someone so trusted and indispensable to the kingdom… even if that plan was starting to crack before his eyes, he would rather die sticking to it the falling in to cowardice and becoming like the rest of those old fools. He would need no deal with the Demon Lord Carinthus to stake his claim on the world, just wait and see!

“Tell the Council I will not be attending.”

“WhAt?! SuCh a… tHiNg hAs NeVER… YoU CANNOT REFUSE.”

“I only have to acknowledge father, the rest of you… cowardly ants!”

With a swift movement of his hands, sharp claws fly out and strike through the shadow.

“Ahhh… AHHHHH… yOu… will… rEgRet… thissssssss…..”

The darkness of the shadow blends back in to the night sky. Count Horatio looks down the river Cairne towards Archion, before he whispers quietly to himself.

“Henrik… you must not fail me here. If we can secure the backing of at least one of the Brothers… even if they wanted too, the council would be too afraid to come for me then.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Mako bean stew again? Cmooon, what kind of a stingy team leader are you? The count is paying us so much more now that the subjugation is off! Look, the other teams are even roasting… ahw… meat… M.E.A.T. Why can’t we get something delicious, just this once?!”

Angelina ignored Boris’ now nightly complaints against her choice of food. Mako beans are commong, and high in nutrients and protein, despite their lack of… taste. She had explained it to Boris multiple times by now, and the rest of her team didn’t complain because we had a goal. However, she knew that she couldn’t just ignore him, otherwise he would keep at it. She had to explain it, one more time, almost as if it was an inescapable routine.

“We aren’t having any meat, BORIS, becauseee last time we went on a quest, YOU” and on that ‘you’ she emphatically pointed her slender finger at him, accusingly “TORCHED the village to kill a spider. The repair costs alone cleaned out our savings, and now, we need to save up again, otherwise we won’t be able to get our new members some decent gear!”

Boris, in his usual way, stopped to look around at everyone in the group, and then himself. Adventuring parties often times had more unusual combinations of people brought together by desperation or desire. They were no exception. While Boris himself was a native man from Rivellion, with pleasantly tanned skin, he was fairly skinny and his oversized robes made it appear almost as if he was a walking, talking twig. However, instead of the wide-brimmed hats and staves preferred by magicians from Luthas, Boris opted for his cultural wands and small, silvery wire headband with a single gem resting in the middle.

Angelina was a former Paladin of the church in Rivellion, and while she took her full-plate armor with her when she left, she repainted it and modified it to her liking. She would never bring up her former affiliation or why she left, and only Boris knew this much from when he first met up with her. She had never spoken of it since. He was also the only one to know that the walking armored fortress of Angelina housed a surprisingly slender and attractive young woman underneath, but finding out that information nearly cost him his life, and left a sizable scar across his left eye. He definitely knew his boundaries.

The other two party members are rather new additions, a quiet Red Dragonkin from Ignis called Grimran (he couldn’t tell and never asked the gender, since the last person who did got a little… crispy) who also specialized in close quarters fighting, where he could maximize his claws and melt tougher opponents with his fire breath. If it didn’t involve the immediate quest, future quest planning, or the needs of the party and splitting treasure, he did not talk about it. He also was the only member of the party to not have to pay for repairing the village, as the Red Dragon blood ran particularly strong in him and any threat to his hoard was treated with extreme prejudice.

The other member of the party was also just as rare of a find, a Lepian healer! Her name was Mosey. She had very long and well-toned legs with large feet, hosting a smaller torso and cute face with an adorable button nose. Her long, lightly furry ears were transitioning from their summer greys to a slight white, indicating the approach of winter. To have a healer with such incredible agility as her was guaranteed to provide success to any party, as she almost never needed any protection! Furthermore, the kick of a Lepian was something to be feared… as it not only struck with terrifying force, but allowed them to leap off of you to escape. Unlike Ignis, she was incredibly talkative.

All of them also wore the coveted Mythril plate of the adventurer’s guild, signifying their skills, which made their drab appearance and pathetic meal all the more disheartening to Boris. Even the bronze and iron plates got to eat meat.

“Look, how was I to know that one small flare would set their huts on fire?!”

Mosey immediately chimed in, her voice absolutely adorable. “Ahhh, it was such a nice little flare too! First, you screamed so pleasantly when the spider landed on your shoulder, then the hut went WHOOSH! I had never seen a fire explode so big back in the forest! Then you couldn’t get the spider off your shoulder, and you made so much wind! Then everything else went WHOOSH! Hehehe!”

Yes. That’s right, that’s why Mosey was with them. She was very talkative… AND SCARY. Why was everyone he was with so damn scary? Right, because no other party wanted to deal with them. I am clearly the only reasonable one here. Boris nodded to himself, approving his line thought.

“Yes, so as you can see, absolutely not my fault and unavoidable circumstances. But I am a reasonable guy, see? So I will let you off the hook tonight. But tomorrow night, you owe me some meat!”

Then, one of Count Horatio’s personal knights entered the encampment. The dozens of groups quickly grew silent, as he made his announcement.

“Glorious Adventurers! My lord, Count Horatio, has been reflecting upon your contributions and desires to show his sincerest thanks! He is willing to pay you early for all your contributions thus far! However, the dastardly Duke Vermillion is marching on us as we speak with an army of over 30,000 troops, expected to arrive here tomorrow. We know our numbers may be small, but with quality as high as yours, he has a genius plan to win and bring that bastard back to the negotiating table! Any adventurers who stay for the durations of the battle will receive double your initial compensation, to 40 copper a day, and an additional gold coin per day in battle with the Duke!”

For a moment, the adventurers were silent. Then, their greed sunk in. A gold coin? A whole gold coin per day? With that much wealth, they could cover all their expenses for months and STILL have some fun money left over! They easily would risk their lives for less, and what about facing the Duke is any different than their original plans to crush some mountain goblins and orcs?

A massive outcry of support erupted from their camp, and simultaneously from the thousands of other adventurers spread around Reims. On his Veranda, an insidious smile spread across Count Horatio’s face as the cries echoed upon his new castle. Everything is moving according to plan, he just needs to hold the Duke on the other side of the Cairne until nightfall tomorrow. Then, he would teach them the true meaning of fear.