His clothes, skin, everything looked like it had been submerged for hours. Whatever it was he had with him, must be important. He took it upstairs to the third floor and then nothing…no sound, no light for several hours.
The stake was sucking him dry. And there was that whisper in his mind...just at the edge of his consciousness. A single word burning on the fringes of his mind, over and over and over again. "Thirst."
A naked rotting female smiled, and then spoke in a dry whisper, "I do find this whole plan to be utterly delicious. Succeed or fail, just the poetry of it makes it worth it."
It was rare that the four of them dined together and even rarer still that Sympos was the one that had arranged it. Even more unexpected was the reason “I am glad that you had offered to keep my gold. I had no need of it before, and I...
But all the niceties in the world do not change the fact that we are two kings vying for the same lands. The same resources. Niceties do not solve our problem.
As Chief Surveyor Brower's assistant, it was often Montock that brought the group messages from their handler. And on this night, the young man brought a thin bundle of parchment, folded and tied with twine.
"So, this blood sucking tree...haunted by the soul of a slain vampire, had been plaguing the area are Marchen for quite some time." It seemed like more of a statement than a question, but Sympos answered anyway.
The homes of savages were tore apart. Many of them died that night. The soldiers took from the village and the women by force, what likely would have been given freely.