Waldron and Emmalia IC

Emmalia read the directions as he left. It wasn't far, so the territory was unlikely to change. Depending on the size of the group, they ought to be safe by her figuring. He had a warhammer and she had her agility. Unlike Waldron, though, she didn't need to sleep, the whole night was hers to burn. So, without hesitstion, she sat back down and watched the violinist.

By the morning, both she and Waldron were prepared to travel the short distance needed. They left their basic supplies in their rooms, which left Emmalia with only a rather small kit in case of injury, and the three potions they had scavenged from the farm house.
 
Waldron walked back down stairs, feeling decently better and well rested. His headache was gone for now, and hopefully permanently, but it was too soon to say for certain. His warhammer was strapped across his back, along with a small bag of supplies. He crossed as quietly as he could, which wasn't very quietly due to his armor, towards where Emmalia was likely still at a table. "How was the music?" He said nonchalantly as he looked over at her under his helmet. Listening to a violinist that long must mean that the music was exceptional, or she just really liked violin. It didn't matter now though, they would be leaving soon after all.
 
Emmalia glanced up at Waldron and said, "Yeah. Around two some guy took over, wasn't quite as good as the girl, but it was something." She stood up and adjusted her pack. "We should get going, though. Also, did you know that lizardmen are very superstitious? I had an idea. We have that invisibility potion, right? They'll probably be able to smell me - but not see me. I don't smell quite like a human to animals, so they'll probably be pretty spooked. We can talk as we walk, though."
 
Waldron nodded, walking over to the door and stepping out into the misty and overall wet day. He sighed after taking in a breath of cold air. "They'll likely have some form of magic user with them too...Nothing like a pyromancer but a shaman or a druid is extremely plausible with their kind being the way they are. Although back to the point, if you were to use the invisibility potion, that would actually be extremely helpful, those bastards probably can't smell too acutely if they're already in a fight" He was of course mentioning that he would be the distraction again, although this time he had to put some thought into it. Lizardmen were clever and conniving bastards, not simple targets like zombies. This would take time and skill from both of them. He began walking out of the town and onto the increasingly poorly maintained stone path that bordered the river.
 
Em nodded, then said, "I can take some magic damage, so that should help also. If all goes according to plan, though, I'll be able to take out the magic one." The walk didn't take too long, and once they were close enough, Emmalia drank half of the potion and splashed the rest on her clothes and weapons, effectively rendering herself invisible. The camp was a simple place with a fire in the center and a number of logs and tents about. The shaman was evident by the bright painting on his scales as he knelt by the fire. The lizardmen stood at six feet tall each, and were thick with muscle. However, that didn't protect the shaman from getting a blade through his throat. Immediately the camp was filled with hissing and the clatter of weapons.
 
Waldron rushed in behind the invisible assailant, slamming his hammer into a surprised lizard's abdomen, following it up by throwing it over his shoulder into the shallow water at their feet. That one was done for, surely. Then fight began, and Waldron was hoping that Emmalia was somewhere around...She had to be, she couldn't just abandon him now...Well, she could. She was damn invisible. He didn't have time to think about that though, a cudgel came his way and Waldron blocked with the shaft of his warhammer, slamming his metal head into the offenders scaled skull, sending the creature back reeling. He then focused on defense, keeping the few warriors away from him, waiting for Emmalia to find a time to strike at the crowd so he could get a strike in himself. As for now though, Waldron was drawing the majority away from the center of the camp and into the marsh around it, hoping to keep their attention.
 
Waldron needn't have worried of Emmalia running away. If they had been on bad terms, she could have, but they weren't, so she didn't. Blood began pouring from one of the lizardmen in front of Waldron as Em cut into its throat. There was a distinct clinking sound seconds before one of the lizardmen going in to attack Waldron started grabbing at its throat before being dragged to the ground, then hissing seconds before its throat was cut out as well. While Waldron took the brunt of the chaos, Emmalia was picking off targets that seemed to offer a high risk to her ally. Waldron couldn't see how she moved elegantly between the enemies, over their tails, between their bodies, and under their flailing attacks. She wreaked havoc amongst them while Waldron finished them off.
 
The fight went by like a flash of lightning, Waldron and Emmalia slashing and bludgeoning their way through the pack of feral fighters in a surprising amount of unplanned teamwork. One or the other would finish off the other's unfinished target before moving to the other ones extremely quickly. It was only a matter of time before they were finished. And at the end of the fight, Waldron leaned against one of the makeshift huts, out of breath. Moving as fast as he did with all of his equipment was a struggle, especially when he was trying to be fast enough to keep up with Emmalia, which was most likely a mistake on his part, yet the fight was over faster than he anticipated by quite a long shot, so that was a big plus. He took a step away from the tree "Alright, fights over, you can come out now, Emmalia. Nice work by the way, we got them pretty damn fast" Assuming she could just turn visible although, Waldron had no idea if the potion was like a timer or she just willed it to stop working. Magic was still a struggle for him.
 
Emmalia, still invisible, had climbed the tree behind Waldron and along the bough over him. She reached down and playfully plucked his helmet off of his head. The fight was over, they had little left to worry about. Surely he couldn't get angry over his helmet. "We certainly did. And I can't just become visible at will. And I wouldn't if I could, anyway. I always wanted to try one of these potions, and now I have." Chuckling, she sat up straight on the bough and tossed his helmet hand to hand. "It's a rather fantastic sense of freedom, you know? Not responsible for anything at all." No vampirism, either. Just her words and actions that could have any consequence.
 
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Waldron looked up at her as she took his helmet, it was strange, not like her to be this laid back or even just talk the way she was. He went to say something about it, but refrained, if her mood was becoming positive, then that was a plus, pessimists were a bit annoying to him."Well, now that you actually are invisible, what do you plan to do with your new found freedom?" Waldron took a defensive step, her new found attitude may have been because of some sort of snap, yet he wasn't entirely sure. So he waited for her to make another move that would confirm or deny his suspicions
 
Emmalia paused, and though Waldron couldn't see it, she was struggling to form words. What would she do? She had wanted to try an invisibility potion ever since she'd learned about it on the stage. Back then she had just fantasized the playful mischief she could do. But now...? What was there that she could do? Nothing. It was silly to act like she was normal again. To behave like such, she hadn't done that since she was alive. And while it had been nice for a moment, Waldron's question brought her back to reality. Finally she just quietly said, "I, uh... I guess just wait until it wear off...." No matter what she did, even invisible, she was still a monstrosity anyway. Why pretend she was anything better?
 
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Waldron looked at where he heard her for a moment, hearing that he possibly struck a nerve or put some sense into her. He turned around, looking at the bodies floating in the pools of the marsh. "Welp, do you want to start heading back now?" He said this after rummaging through some of the crates and huts for some basic trinkets and gold, not finding much and dissatisfied with staying around where they currently were, especially with the damn frogs. They were getting a bit annoying with all the croaking
 
Emmalia put his helmet back on his head so she wouldn't have to see his expression, then climbed down the tree again. It wasn't long before she slowly came back into view, covered in reptilian blood. It held no attraction for her. Lizardmen were cold-blooded creatures and therefore unpalatable. Not long later they were walking back to the inn. Emmalia stayed quiet for the most part. Their payment was collected, and they stayed another night at the inn at her insistence - his head was still injured. Before either of them went to bed, she stopped in his room and brought her medical equipment with her. She softly said, "Will you allow me to wrap the wound on your head? Like it or not it does need to be taken care of."
 
Waldron had been sitting on his bed with all his armor in a neat pile next to a cabinet across the room. He looked over, smoking a small metal pipe and sighing "I don't see why not, if you think it'll help, go ahead." He took the old bandages off on his own, revealing the slowly healed wound, with all the fighting and movement he had been doing, it didn't seem likely that it would heal anytime soon, even though in retrospect, the injury wasn't the worst he could've had over the past few days. Yet it still hurt like hell, and he refused to admit everytime he had a headache or almost vomited inside his helmet after swinging the warhammer. It would go away eventually, at least that's what he personally believed.
 
Emmalia nodded and moved to sit cross-legged behind him on the bed so she could properly tie the knot on the bandaging. "We also have a potion of minor healing but perhaps we should save that to repair a lethal wound just enough for us to survive." She wet a rag with water from her canteen and wiped at the wound, then spread a balm on it. "It doesn't look any worse, which is good. Just hold still now." Slowly she applied the balm, then wrapped his head again. "It doesn't hurt too bad, right? Doesn't bug you?" Her voice was surprisingly gentle as she inquired.
 
Waldron looked over at her as she asked the question "No, it hasn't been hurting too bad. Must just be a fast healer." He said this straight faced before taking inhaling from his pipe again while she cleaned and looked at the wound. "So, have you found our next move...Well, I don't know if that's the right word, but you know what I mean." He then stood up after she put a new bandage on the wound, pacing a few times around the room while stretching his arms, pulling and extending them before stopping and looking out of his window, setting his metal pipe down, looking back at her
 
Emmalia wasn't sure if he was just pacing, anxious, or trying to get away from her. Most likely he was simply pacing. In response to his question, though, she said, "We shouldn't stay here after tonight, we're still close to that mercenary group and the more distance the better. I'd say North for another few days. I checked a map earlier, it's a few day's walk to the next village, but it's manageable." She shrugged and watched him move about the room, then rather suddenly said, "Sorry about stealing your helmet earlier and all." She hadn't caused any damage, but he had seemed almost upset at her mood change. Really, though, that was how she was when she wasn't scared or acting impassive. So far, she had just never shown him before.
 
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He waved off her apology, he really didn't care about that now that he thought about it, they were all alone, no one else saw his face, the action was harmless. "As for the mercenaries, I think it's fine if we stay here, don't you? I mean, you saw most of their men swept aside by that thing just as I saw it, I doubt they'll be coming for us anytime soon." Truth be told, he was more worried about the Executioner pursuing them, nothing seemed able to stop the brute, none of their attacks sufficiently wounded it and there's no telling if the creature knew where they were, so Waldron changed his mind "You know what, nevermind, let's keep going...North, you said? North it is. I'll see you in the morning, then." He waited for her to leave the room, quickly going to sleep, now that he thought about it, they weren't that far from the mercenary camp, if that thing really had been pursuing them all this time, there was no telling how close it was or if it knew exactly where they had been.
 
Emmalia nodded and went to her room. As she stood there thinking about how the executioner could come for them at any moment, and that in less than a week would be a full moon, she realized that she was hungry. I'd best go get something.... There's a full stock of food in any of the rooms near you. Nobody would mind. What the hell? No, no, I'm gonna go... find an animal. That's all. But you're tired and hungry. Why put in that much effort? Fuck off.

Emmalia left the inn fully armed and wandered about a bit until she found a farm. A nick to the throat of a cow would cause no true damage to the beast and would sate her. Yet the blood tasted oddly bad. Not as good as human blood. Still, she forced herself to drink it, then made her way back to the inn at a slow pace. She was surprisingly tired after eating, but that was rather normal. Back in her room, she settled herself into her bed and was soon dozing. She hardly woke when the grey cat appeared at her open window and walked right in without invitation. It jumped onto her bed and wriggled it's way under her arm, purring quietly. Emmalia fell asleep like that.

A few days of travel passed rather uneventfully. More coniferous trees began appearing as they traveled, signalling they were close to some of the swamps. As the sun began to set, Emmalia set her pack down in a small clearing and reached in to dig around. Finally she came up with a solid steel chain and a lock. She looked over at Waldron and explained, "Very few people know this, but on a New Moon, vampires... tend to lose control. Not in a feral way, just as smart as ever, actually, but there's nothing at all to keep us from killing anyone. So I'm... I need you to help me. I, uh... I need to be chained to a tree. And I won't remember much of anything I say but do not unchain me until the sun has fully risen. And anything I say, I...." Em looked down at the chain in her hands, then shook her head a bit and looked back up to him. "It's not me." She sighed heavily and said, "I know this sounds like a lot, but you can just stay close enough to hear me scream if you prefer.... I'm vulnerable when chained up like that."
 
Waldron looked over at the chains quietly. He had heard about this kind of behavior from vampires before, but the fact that Emmalia was trying to prevent it was...well, astonishing. She had shown care for other people despite her...well, form. He took a few slow steps forward, gripping the chains and looking up at her and nodding in solemn, understanding silence. When she was ready, he tied her to the tree and walked off quietly, he moved behind her, trying to stop her from knowing where he was going, but it's not like it mattered, what with her hearing and probably even smell, but it was worth the shot. In reality, he had just gone behind the tree, about 20 meters away to watch the chains on the tree. He slumped down against another tree, resting his warhammer in his lap while he made sure that the chains did not undo in himself.
 
Emmalia was well aware that he had walked too far to speak to. That was good.... There was no telling what she would say otherwise. It might alienate him and that was not what they needed - if that executioner was after both of them, they needed to stay together. As the sun fully set, though, Emmalia found it harder and hard to remember what she was thinking. Her last clear thought was that she was glad Waldron was behind her and not able to see her red eyes.

Her first feral action was to fight against the chains. After a solid minute of struggling, it was clear this wouldn't work. But she was impatient and could smell living beings near her that she could kill. Still, she knew better than to shout, and Waldron wasn't close enough to hear her otherwise.
 
Waldron had been drifting in and out of the realm of sleep time after time while waiting to see what Emmalia would do when the sun set. He snapped awake when he heard the rattle of chains, but they weren't going anywhere from the looks of it...Meaning he could fall asleep, no harm done if she couldn't go anywhere. Usually he'd be more vigilant about this issue, but Emmalia was her friend and she surely couldn't go anywhere. So, he put his metal pipe in his mouth and lit it with a small stick, holding his helmet in his hands before passing out against the tree
 
Emmalia had ceased fighting against her bonds and sunk into sullen silence. The best she could do was try to plan possible escapes. She could smell the smoke from Waldron's pipe, but even that soon faded in the night air. Hours after, her head jerked up as she heard someone approach. They were stealthy, she had to give them that much. Perhaps she could convince them that Waldron had chained her and she was a prisoner - that was a possibility.

The moment she caught the scent of the person, though, she was immediately thrown into a panic. "WALD- " That was all she could yell before a hand clamped down over her mouth. She opened her mouth and bit down on the hand, then let out a muffled cry of pain, as she had bit into the silver back on the glove. "Waldron? Is that who your new companion is?" He removed his hand only to shove a gag into Emmalia's mouth. "You got a replacement for the last one? I guess I'll have to kill this one too." He chuckled quietly and took a step back. "Remember me, Emmy?"

Emmalia growled as well as she could. He wasn't allowed to call her that. There was no way that she could ever forget that face, or even that voice. He was a rather dashing young man, but a scar cut across his nose - the one thing that the healers couldn't heal after she had clawed into his face. On one hand she had only kept herself alive to murder him, but on the other, just being near him terrified her. That terror was ingrained into her mind. How long had he tortured her, after he had killed her adoptive family?

He got in close again and said, "I've missed you since you left. I never finished the tests that I needed. Not that I'm too mad, I did get something out of it, after all." He smirked and walked closer to her again. "I'll tell you about that later, for now, though...." Ander pulled an iron dagger out of his belt and stabbed it into Emmalia's shoulder. She tried to yell, but of course it was muffled. "Hush, you know you'll heal." He chuckled darkly and removed the dagger, trailing black blood onto the ground. Through the gag in her mouth she tried to shout for Waldron. Ander growled and took the dagger, stabbing it into her throat so she couldn't make a sound, and said, "I told you to be quiet, you dumb bitch." He pulled the dagger out and blood poured from the wound. So much so that she was starting to fade from consciousness. Ander grabbed her by the jaw and said, "No, you don't get to sleep yet, you owe me for the years I've had to look for you."

Despite the pain, Emmalia was finding it harder to fight, or even keep conscious. Ander growled and took out something from his pocket. "I tracked you for so long, and I finally hear rumors about a black-haired vampiress that seemed sane, only to find that you're not as strong as you used to be. You used to be able to lose so much more blood, Emmy. I guess you got to strengthen up again, don't you?" He held up the stone from his pocket and Emmalia immediately struggled at the sight of the sunstone, but the chains held her in place as Ander pressed it against her neck, burning her skin. The pain overwhelmed her, and she passed out.

Ander held he stone to her neck for a few more moments, but was very aware of the sound of Waldron stirring. He pocketed the stone and ran off into the darkness, unseen.

Come morning, Emmalia hung limp, supported by the chain, and she was covered in black blood from numerous stab wounds, each point of stabbing evidently having been chosen so she'd suffer the most. The only blood that seemed to have no clear cause was the black blood that had come from her mouth, clearly visible with the gag removed. Half of her shirt was ripped off, and the edges were burned. Deep burns traced from her left shoulder to her jawline. She was still unconscious and showed no signs of waking soon. Ander was nowhere to be seen.
 
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Waldron awoke an hour or two later after the horrific event, yet he had no idea of it's occurence, at least for now. He took the pipe out of his mouth and shoved his helmet back on, pushing himself up to his feet with the help of his warhammer...His head still hurt every once in a while and he just remembered that the hard way from getting up too quick. He stumbled over to the chained-tree to see how Emmalia was doing when he saw the blood trail and his injuries. He stopped, going stiff and serious for a moment when he looked over at Emmalia's limp body. It was day, he assumed it to be safe, but to hell with it being safe or not, it didn't matter, she needed his help now. Waldron quickly undid the chains around the tree, catching Emmalia as she began to fall, he then set her down, breathing a few curses under his breath "Emmalia...Emmalia! Damn it to hell..." He stood up, looking around...He couldn't help her, he didn't know the first thing about medicine...well, at least for something this bad. And whatever did this to her may still be out there, and so he stood up, pacing with his warhammer at the ready
 
When Waldron moved her, she stirred slightly but didn't wake. The damage to her body was rather extensive, but that wouldn't free her from undeath - it couldn't be that easy. All the wounds were made from an iron dagger, or the sun stone. Neither of which were lethal to her. After Waldron laid her down, she soon stirred again, this time actually opening her eyes. She had expected to see Ander in front of her again, and was ready to fight. Yet she was unchained, and it was clearly morning. After a few frantic seconds she saw Waldron and tried to speak, but the wound to her throat was still healing, so her voice was raspy. "Waldron...? It's okay...." She was certain not to say that she was okay - she didnt want to lie to him. But they seemed safe for the moment. She struggled to prop herself up on one arm. It was hard to think past the pain. At least it seemed like Ander was gone....
 
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