Fantasy Hunter's Moon [IC] [CLOSED]

[Viper Actual]

Galina eyed Theodore with an amused expression. "I'm not sure if you ever had the chance to learn the true story about Petar or his demise. When the Romanovs stood accused of, well, everything you've told me you read, there was an internal power struggle.

Your books may claim that Petar was butchered by an entire army or that one of the gods unleashed its powers on him. In reality he was killed by a single man.

When defeat was imminent Guard Captain Kholda of House Romanov struck down his lord using his own sword. After ordering his men to loot the Romanov treasury the guardsmen then fled with Kholda eventually founding a House of his own."

Galina paused. "If you ever have the time you would be more than welcome to visit my home- the sword is displayed inside the library."

Just as Galina finished talking Valeria approached. She bowed her head towards the inquisitor. "Educating my peers on Tsavanian history, Inquisitor Witlock."

 

[Radley]

Erwin had totally forgot what he was going to inquire about next after Galina dropped a historical bombshell. "The noble, monster hunting daughter in a bloodline of a traitorous kingslayer. Now that's just rich." He said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

As Valeria joined their circle, Erwin turned to her, "We've done some looking around the Romanov lead. I think that it might be some seriously powerful werebeast blood in those vials."

He paused for a bit, looking up towards the declining rainfall, "Perhaps you could remind me if vampire gain some sort of power from drinking special blood?"

 

[Infab]

Valeria glanced to Erwin. "Not that I know of. From what I've seen, most forms of blood simply quench their thirst." she replied. "Still, it must do something for vampires. Cassandra was carrying vials of it on her person. And there's likely a reason that it's Romanov blood specifically. We'll know more later, I believe."

 

[joshuadim]

When offered the beer, Ethraeil only politely refused with a show of his hand. And with Countesses rebuff he decided it wasn't worth even trying further to attempt to speak to her. He wanted to give thinks only to be met with vitriol but he didn't think much of it, just that it was a waste of time after all. He also decided to return back to the inn, as clearly he wasn't picking anything up out of the ordinary. As he walked back, he was completely silent save for his steps in the mud, as he approached the entrance of the inn where several other members of the current Inquiry were standing.

"I didn't find any traces of, well, anything. It was almost as if they just disappeared as quickly as they appeared." Ethraeil spoke to Valeria. "If I may be of service in some other way for tonight, I will not mind."

 

[Infab]

Valeria looked back to Ethraeil as he arrived. "At the moment, we're simply trying to piece things together. You may rest if you wish. I think we'll all eventually need it." she responded, looking back to the others. She had considered asing Ethraeil about any information he might have related to the Romanovs, but figured that he might not have encountered the family during the Age of Darkness.

------

Rosanna watched as Ethraeil simply walked away from them, ignoring her remarks about Jakob potentially helping. "...I guess he don't need your help, Jake." she said, glancing to Jakob.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Everyone drifted about and around as the confrontation with Cassandra concluded. Constables had arrived to clean up the bodies of the ghouls, and Aleister could smell their rotten blood anywhere he walked in the inn. It was incredibly unappetizing. He took the vial of Romanov blood out from his coat and looked at it again, wondering how it was even obtained in the first place. This was beyond him. He had traveled all over the continent and seen a great deal, and had he come across this in some shady backroom in Tsvania, he would laugh and move on. Yet here he was, presented with it from a pureblood. Was the woman even telling the truth, or had it been a ruse? It could have been some kind of poison for all he knew.

Aleister returned to his room, happy that it was at the moment empty. He sat down on his cot and ran his hands through his hair. What would become of this group? What would become of him? Half of the group were ungrateful fiends, and the others were seemingly nice enough. He had come along willingly with the inquisitor out of respect for her, the work, and of course the Church, but he didn't take any of it particularly serious until now. This was just another fun little diversion. Something to pass the time with, maybe get some trinkets, and enjoy the journey. Never did he expect a simply inquiry into some unruly vampires killing some people in the boondocks to turn up like this.

Slowly, he slid off the bed and onto his knees, and he clasped his hands before him as he bowed his head. Gyasis... Undite... we need guidance and protection more than ever. The foolhardy, the arrogant... the vain... we need help. This group, created for work most holy, has potential. But there is a great hatred within that will kill us all if it is not tempered or done away with. I humbly thank you for the divine powers you have allowed me to wield... I will be calling upon such sorcery soon again, I do not doubt. If it is not I who shall be granted strength, then I ask, if not beg, please, bestow it upon those more worthy to guide us through this mess.

He had always been uncomfortable asking for help from his gods, despite serving them faithfully all these years. It just seemed... inappropriate to demand help. Their teachings, their work, all of it connected deeply to him and he did his best to spread that enlightenment as he could. He acknowledged his inclination to meaningless pleasure, and he knew he twisted it to fit his own philosophy within the boundaries of what he knew were acceptable and near the line. It was easy to justify one's wrongs when you were one of priestly disposition, but he shied away from that as best he could. He never claimed perfection, nor demanded it.

With his prayer done, he turned to his suitcase and opened it up. He only had four outfits, including the one he had on, but the time for his fashionable amusement was temporarily at an end.

Aleister pulled out his priest habit and robes, along with a crimson red sash. His original uniform had long succumbed to age, though it remained back home at the Saville estate. He couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. What he had now was a little more... inline with his attitudes, but it was still somber. It was softer, fit better, and the sash provided some flare, but it remained an entirely orthodox set of clothes for a priest.

He dressed into his religious habit and tucked away his countryside hunting clothes, and regretfully, he set his strolling hat aside. Thankfully, both it and the robes were of the same black color, and the red silk on the hat matched his sash, but that touch of flamboyance had to be quelled... for the moment. He ran his hands along the silk ribbons of the hat, knowing he could not long ignore it. At least it still provided an actual purpose when the sun was shining.

Aleister stepped out of his room and down into the main floor of the inn, spotting only Camille seated alone with her weapons. He wanted to walk past her and ignore the prickly woman, but he couldn't bring himself to return her callousness, not while dressed as he was.

"How is it coming along?" He asked after a moment, looking at Camille, and then at her weapons. His own revolver was tucked away beneath the main portion of his habit, and he had his dagger attached to the interior of his boots. His expression was a little more serious, and it showed in his eyes, but he forever had his dandy attitude about him.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Jakob simply shrugged while maintaining his smile. "Oh well. His loss, I guess. I am the best detective of all, after all!" he said, tapping his temple with a finger. "Also...Jake?" he said with a hearty laugh. "That's what my missus calls me, but I'll let you say it as well!" he said while roughing up Rosanna's hair, messing with her hat.

 

[Infab]

"H-Hey now, watch it! The head comes off, remember?" says Rosanna, chuckling and trying to swat away Jakob's hand. She eventually tried to fix her hair, lifting her hat just long enough to make sure everything was right. She had to admit, Jakob's optimism was a bit infectious.

 

[joshuadim]

"Very well." Ethraeil responded as he slowly walked back into the inn and took a seat at the bar. He took one of the bottles that a deceased patron had been drinking from and began to fiddle with it, tapping it to slightly freeze it over where he touched. It was a bit of menial occupation to keep him from being bored in the meantime, and after tonight's events he couldn't find himself lowering his guard with meditation.

 

[Dmaster]

The Escarian huntress gave a strange look to Aleister as he stepped down from the stairs in his priest habit and robes. Such a strange occasion to be putting such a thing on, and her lips curled into the oddest shape as he posed such a weird question to her. 'How's it coming?' Why not look with those parasitic eyes of yours to see how clean the blades are? Still she bit her tongue and allowed him to ask such a thing, looking up to him as she reminded herself to be kinder to these monsters in the name of the inquiry's cohesion.

"It goes fine. The blood is practically clean from my blades but I still continue to polish them to gather my thoughts." Camille admitted, looking back down at her weaponry.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aleister could see that bright anger lurking behind Camille's expression, but he was pleased she could at least keep it from running her mouth at the moment. He himself was rather hesitant to speak with the woman any more. However, he couldn't deny what Mariette had told him on the carriage ride; fixing this woman's viewpoint would only work if he tried to help her, rather than match her with mocking wit and sarcasm.

"I'm not here to chastise or lecture you, but I am here to talk. As much as I am sure that pains you to hear," he said with a little smile, sitting down across from her. He could already imagine she must be livid already. "Everyone else has wandered off to talk among themselves, though it seems you remain behind."

He noticed the lich enter back into the bar, and if he had to, he would speak with the skeleton as well.

"Tell me about your blade. It looks finely crafted. A custom piece, or an heirloom perhaps?" He asked, trying to strike up some sort of conversation with this... cactus. That was a good word for her, though he had his doubts about there being anything sweet on the inside.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Jakob let out another hearty laugh as Rosanna swatted his hand away. He then looked to the countess, who was still looking towards the night sky under the dying rain. She was clearly lost in her own thoughts. He knew that feeling very well. "Well, better leave our lady to herself. Have some privacy, ya know." he said, before looking to Mariette. "Enjoy your night, m'lady." he says, with a bit of a bow before heading back into the inn.

As soon as he walked in, he saw Aleister standing in front of Camille dressed in his priestly habits. Jakob was surprised, and his face showed it as he stared at the priest with both eyes wide. "Holy mother of St. Yvanka." he said, with a chuckle. "Now that's a change of attire I wasn't expecting. I figured you'd be dressed as a fox hunter for the rest of the inquiry, my boy." he said, giving the young priest a smile. "Still looking mighty fine, though, if I say so myself." He walked past after a moment. "Sorry for interrupting your talk!"

He looked about and saw Valeria back outside. It was rather strange to see the Inquisitor looking so...worried? "Ma'am...can I ask you a question?" he said in a humble tone, as he walked up to her. "...what the hell is that woman's problem?" He folded his arms. "Why kill so many people to get to you?"

 

[Dmaster]

Once more the huntress' eyes narrowed, and she did not look up from her weapon as she tried to collect her thoughts on how to properly respond. Was it a danger to be so forthwith with the details of her equipment and past? Perhaps not. It did not matter if they attempted to kill her here or back on her homeland, she would be ready for anything.

"You have an eye for such things, in that case. It is a weapon commissioned by my family made for me as a graduation present. However I will say the silver coating was not done until several years after I received it." she said, slowly removing the rag from her rapier and pointing the type toward the ceiling. The blade was thin yet flat, its edge noticeable and indicating that it certainly had a fair amount of slashing potential. At the base of the blade are some intricate carvings that are just surface-level, giving way to an ornate hand-guard consisting of single swooping band of metal ensnaring a beveled cross-guard. The entire weapon was a gleaming silver sheen, though only the blade itself was coated in the precious metal.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aleister gave a small nod to Jakob as the man walked past. "Business calls for... business attire," he said simply as the constable carried on away.

He glanced back to Camille, and he eyed her rapier as she showed it off. It was indeed a rather fantastic piece. He appreciated anything that was finely made, and it was clear the maker put some heart into the weapon. It was functional with a little flourish to it, but not gaudy or too ceremonial looking. As expected of one of Camille's temperament. The silver inlays on the blade did make his teeth ache, and he leaned back in his seat just enough to try and ease the discomfort.

"A graduation present, you say? I have my own with me as well," Aleister explained, reaching under his collar and pulling out the third and last amulet he had around his neck. This item was not an amulet of the gods, but an icon of the church - a rosary. It was made of ebony wooden beads which made up the necklace portion, and attached to it was a modest sized cross. It was made of a finer quality wood than the beads as it had a sturdy sheen to it and in the middle of the cross there was a single ruby gemstone. Between each of the prongs of the cross were smaller spears, like rays on a sunburst. Despite the quality of the rosary, there was the unmistakable atmosphere of age attached to it. A slight fading surrounded it, and there was a scratch along the bottom portion.

"Not particularly fancy, but it is not supposed to be. It was given to me by the Mother Superior of my school when I was... oh, sixteen I believe. Each arm on the cross represents one of the five divine gods. The ruby in the middle here was an addition I made myself, to represent the heart and soul of man. This is perhaps one of the strongest items I have in my arsenal, for this is the only tool that has successfully served in exorcisms."

 

[Infab]

Valeria looked to Jakob as he asked his question, then sighed. "Cassandra...she hunts members of the church because she believes the church is responsible for her becoming a vampire in the first place." she said, turning a bit to face him. "It is an act of petty revenge for something the church at the time had no control over." She glances towards where Aleister and Camille were inside the inn, before continuing.

"...A long tme ago, the Order sent a group of people to investigate a supposed vampire living in an old fort in the highlands. Cassandra was among these people. Now, the Order had just been brought under the Church's control at the time, having been its own entity previously. It was still restructuring, and membership was rather low. Cassandra herself was one of the new recruits. Now, back to the fort...from what I understand, the group was overwhelmed when they ventured inside. Instead of one vampire, it was several. An ambush slaughtered all except for Cassandra."

"Now at the same time, the rest of the new Order was dealing with a slew of demons attacking villages in what is now Daristein. This means that the Church couldn't send anyone to investigate what had happened to the group they had sent to the highlands fort. Cassandra was left alone there for days...which turned into weeks, and eventually months. She believes that the church abandoned her on purpose."

"The next thing they knew, Cassandra was drawing out and killing inquisitors and priests. She had been turned into a vampire, likely by the vampires at the fort during the ambush. The Order has tried hunting her down over the years...but we can never catch her long enough to kill her. And now she's a pureblood, which spells far worse for the Order and Church. A pureblood lacks the weaknesses of a normal vampire. She can blend in with the public and kill in broad daylight now."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Jakob payed close attention to everything Valeria said. When she was done, he spoke. "Then we'll have to work together to bring the fiend down." he said, while looking to the others. "Getting a posse together might help, but as you said there have been purebloods taken down by smaller groups. We need to organize a good plan and hunt this woman down, to prevent more deaths."

 

[Dmaster]

Camille glanced up to eye the rosary, looking at it with the bare minimum amount of reverance such an item deserved. It was no secret that Aleister, a vampire, was far more religious than she ever could be, fake priest or not. Her first thought was how he had not burst into flames for wearing such a piece. Yet with how warmly he spoke of the rosary and the memories associated with it she was starting to hold doubt on her suspicion of him faking. He might not have been able to see it beneath her hood, but there was a glint of sad solemnity in Camille's eyes as he spoke. The reason was terribly unclear, but softening her ire and features was possibly a good sign.

"Then your possession has seen as much use as mine. A memory to carry for sentiment as well as strength." she replies, soon chuckling to herself and shaking her head side to side. "At least, that is what I was told. Mon dieu."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aleister gently toyed with the rosary, giving Camille a little grin. "Sentiment is a funny thing, I suppose. We can find it in the smallest and strangest things. Though I suppose a sword and a rosary are not all that strange to find fondness in. I knew a gentleman, a monk from Daristein, who wore the severed finger of Saint Alicia around his neck. Supposedly, the finger of Saint Alicia. The damn thing had been pickled and dried with salts, and he even bathed it from time to time. He said it could scare phantoms away, and I suppose he must have believed it. Admittedly, were I a phantom, I would also avoid the fat monk waving a severed finger at me," Aleister said with a wider smile.

"You don't strike me as a woman of the Saints, though. More of a... patron of Velin, much like our dear inquisitor."

 

[Dmaster]

Still cleaning her weapons she nodded with his recounting of the odd fellow. "Thinking on it I am a person of sentiment as well. There is more to this weapon than my description lead on. Details far too gritty for you, probably, but it does count toward a strange longing to remember what shapes us. Where we began, what we cling to."

Camille could only shake her head at such speculation on his part, a gloved hand slowly creeping up with a flattened palm to stop him. "Perhaps, but I am far from religious. I respect the gods and the work of their envoys yet I have never attended any church in my lifetime. To say I follow or worship any god when I have put so little effort forth on that front would be an insult to them and their clergy."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Oh, come now, I'm a parasite, remember? Nothing is too gritty for a worm," Aleister says wryly with a smirk, but he shrugs after a moment. "I must admit I am a little surprised you aren't more religious. You are undoubtedly a woman of... strong convictions. You can find some temperance in a sermon, perhaps, or even guidance. Though I suppose you make your own guidance, so maybe I shouldn't be so surprised."

Aleister paused for a moment, glancing down at his left hand. He had a ring on each finger, aside from his thumb, and the bands didn't seem to be particularly flashy. They looked more like charms if anything. Two of them were onyx colored, with a slight tinge of purple, while the other two looked silver but obviously were not - nickel, or steel. Winding inscriptions that looked more like sprawling vines stretched around each ring.

He removed one of them and held it out to Camille. It was one of the bright tarnished rings and the inscriptions on this one looked to be in gold.

"Here... take it. Its a votive ring of Gyasis. You don't have to go to church or believe yourself to be a follow of Him, or any of the other gods. But in a mission like this, perhaps a little... acknowledgement may help." In truth, a ring probably wouldn't do much, but the sentiment was truly the important part. Gyasis appreciated these gestures, and Aleister felt that of all the gods that Camille was in need of, it was Him.

"It may even provide you with some peace. Gyasis is a very understanding and loving patron. You don't have to be a follower to walk with his blessing."

 

[Dmaster]

Camille finally looks up from her rapier, standing as she turns it on its side and inserts it back into its sheath. She sits back down right after, taking the ring and inspecting it. It was hard to tell if he was trying to woo her with kindness or if he was just that giving of a person at one point in his life. It was awfully confusing, but she chose not to dwell on it, read into it, or offend. These vampires were a wishy-washy sort, and their success was supposedly hinging on how well she could police her words.

"... Thank you." she said after some time, pinching the band between her fingers as she got to inspecting it. "And you will find my temperment even and my patience unmatched, monsieur. Though it is kind information to impart on me, truly." she said with absolutely no sarcasm. "If you truly are interested in more of the sword's story - it has been layered with the silver used in my very first kill. Not enough to fully coat the blade, mind, but again something done for symbolic reasons." The ring was soon placed in her jacket pocket, as the woman had no intention of removing her gloves at the moment. It would not be thrown away, as she was working on giving Aleister the benefit of the doubt currently. The countess was her primariy concern at this point. "Perhaps that may be the root of such convictions." Camille adds.

 

[K0mori]

((Sorry about taking so long to reply tonight. I was actually busy overclocking a Sega Genesis :V))

Briefly ensnared in her memories, Mariette failed to acknowledge Jakob before the man had turned away. Rosanna was about to do the same when the vampire finally spoke up. "Rose... some time when it isn't dark and raining, those of us in the party who cannot shoot their weapons accurately should learn. If you're willing to teach, I'll stay awake during the daylight hours and we'll practice all together. But for now..." Mariette turned and looked down the gloomy road through the city, and Rosanna got a sense that the vampire had something to prove to herself. Then, with a final glance back at the dullahan and a flash of a gallows grin, she waved once before tearing down the street at inhuman speed. Within seconds, Rosanna could no longer make out the Countess's black overcoat against the darkness of the city.

To Mariette, however, the murky colors of night, partially awash with fiery baths of golden gas lamp light and the reflections they held in the puddled rain was a symphony of familiar beauty. It wouldn't take her long to leap and climb her way up into that starless night sky, gracefully running along rooftops and exploring the city from above. She was fast, but with growing frustration, she felt still limited; her memory told her that she was once even more swift and agile, and now her heart demanded it: run harder, jump harder. She pushed herself until it felt as if she might come apart into pieces, and still she desperately wanted more. To encounter a pureblood for the first time, she realized, made her feel as inadequate as a human facing an ordinary vampire. She had crossed nearly the entire city until she found herself looking up at a church bell tower and the graveyard below, and as she climbed up to the vantage point the tower offered she felt the fatigue settling in.

She was finally alone, up here, like she had wanted to be when she initially left the inn. She had several important questions to ask herself, and now that she had shaken the nerves off and ditched both the hateful ones and the saccharine ones alike, she could finally think for herself.

If I cannot return to Escaria until these matters are settled, do I wish to kill the pureblood more than I wish to be one?

The first question was easy to answer.

No. If the opportunity presents itself, I won't hesitate to explore it. My allegiance is to myself and my survival, first and foremost. Of course I still want to kill that fiend, Cassandra, but if it's possible to become a pureblood, then I shall do so and then worry about finding justice in all of this. I didn't get this far by behaving myself, and I won't last long if I allow myself to be controlled. But what if I have to kill the others to gain that precious gift?

This question was more difficult.

I... I wouldn't strike first... unless it was Camille, or Erwin... But the others, if they harm me, any one of them... I could live with their demise. I'd outlive them eventually anyway. Well, most of them. But I suppose it all depends on the circumstances. Is it truly wrong to wish to be a denizen of the light again? Is it wrong to wish for the best of all worlds?

No. It isn't.

Mariette took out the blue-labeled vial from her overcoat and looked out over the wilderness outside of town. Valeria had told her not to drink it. Well, not told her, rather, she suggested she not drink it. But Mariette was up against her own limits, and desperately wanted a taste of something greater than herself. She took out the stopper and drank the vial.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aleister was content at the moment to simply act like a priest again, at least in some respect. It had been too long since he last wore his religious garments. The past several weeks were marked with wooing artists, primarily painters and musicians. He had sponsored a young pianist for nearly a month, watching the promising lad improve at Aleister's encouragement, wealth, and in some cases, immoral guidance. Aleister was infinitely thankful for his ability to feed without transferring vampirism thanks to the help of divine magic. The boy would have made an excellent vampire, likely living on as one of the best pianists to grace the halls of the many vampiric lords, but had the boy became a ghoul... it would have stung deeply. Turning was something he left only to those he found truly dear, and there were some, but the stress and fear of what could become of them was beyond debilitating. Still, if the charming young pianist was still around, maybe he would pay him a visit after all of this....

"Ah, one's first kill. Not something anyone forgets, I don't think. I suppose yours must have been a rather troublesome vampire, or perhaps a werebeast. Mine was... someone who posed a lot of harm to someone I cared about, though after that, over the years, things get a little more muddy. I can't say I've ever killed anyone who didn't deserve it, however, vampire or otherwise," he said somewhat solemnly, though he smiled after a second. "Your first kill with a rapier is impressive, at least. Mine was with a dining knife. It probably still had butter on it!"

He settled back into his seat a little more comfortably. "I am interested in the stories of all things, peoples, and places. Be they fictional or real. I have a rather poor habit of picking up penny dreadfuls where ever I go. You know, further south, near Eshax, there are story tellers in the market squares. Old ladies with crystal balls and men with monkey-paw necklaces. They weave colorful tales, if you ever find yourself down that way. Still, a sword like that," Aleister says, nodding towards Camille to signify her rapier, "will always tell an interesting tale."

 

[Infab]

The moment the blood touched Mariette's lips, and then her tongue, she felt an odd sensation. The purity of the Romanov bloodline, a dire werewolf bloodline, could be felt even before she actually ingested it. The taste was far better than any wine mankind or vampire had ever crafted. It was quite rich, but not entirely overwhelming. Simply divine. And then, when she finally gulped it down, she began to really feel it.

It was as if everything inside her came alive. As if her very soul had been set ablaze. Her senses were heightened by sheer multitudes. She could feel the presence of every human and animal inside Bromwich. The entire city. She could even tell the differences between the individual people just from their aura alone. Men, women, children. She could sense Rosanna, even if she was across the city from her, as well as Aleister and the lich Ethraeil.

If the blood did this to her senses...what else did it improve?

 

[K0mori]

It simply wasn't fair to live 166 years and never taste such a thing.

As the very last drop of the blood slid down her throat, Mariette suddenly felt as if her entire life up to this moment was nothing but a prelude. Her mind wheeled, barely able to handle the extreme leap in sensation. The fatigue left her body; she had just sprinted across an entire city, but felt like she could run all the way to Tresomin. Perhaps she could! She had absolutely no reference for her limitations now. Alive, alive, alive!

She leaped from the top of the the bell tower and hurtled to the next rooftop, a jump far longer and higher than she had ever attempted, and it was accomplished with such ease that she burst out into audacious laughter. It was like being invincible. In a full sprint, the city seemed to blur past her, and she could still cut back and forth into zig-zagging patterns or stop on a dime without her momentum burdening her. She couldn't simply evaporate the way Cassandra had, but she was so preoccupied by what she could do that nothing outside of the moment seemed to matter. She reached a familiar-looking corner and stopped, clenching onto a streetlamp and panting withe excitement. The inn wasn't far away, but she forced herself to stop and think for a moment before she charged back into the company of the inquisitors.

If I tell them I drank it, they'll only think so far as to realize I didn't heed the Senior Inquisitor's warning... that I'm unworthy of their trust if I also trusted the gift of our enemy. That's... understandable. But on the other hand, why tell them at all? Why not sort this whole mess out while I have the chance? Kill them all before they know this could happen? I could catch up with Cassandra as if I had never deceived her, meet her employer, and find out where this came from... Get more of it... Or even become a pureblood. Maybe that's how she did it? She has the gift, and this wonderful, wonderful elixir! I should- I should-

No. I don't have to do this. I don't want to do this. These people have done me no harm but to insult my dignity, what right do I have to decide who lives and dies for my sake? I don't have to tell them a thing, just keep it a secret unless they turn against me and call for my head, like I decided before I took the first sip. I can fill the empty vial with ordinary wolf's blood and act as if nothing happened tonight, unless I need to. But how long will this last!? What if it wears off tomorrow and I've wasted this boon? What if they learn what it can do and they ask me to use it, only to find I already did and told no one!?

I have to tell someone. I'll tell Aleister. Tomorrow. Tonight, I simply have to see what I can accomplish. They aren't expecting me back, yet, anyway.

Mariette charged off in another direction, seeking a wolf to kill for the sake of filling her bottle. Eventually, she killed a common werewolf instead, and then ran for miles to reach town before the sun could begin to rise, before the humans could awaken from their night's rest. She had a plan.