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"Are you sure you still want to do this?" asked Captain Bronmarch of the Allirian Guard.
"I have to try," Heike said. "I owe it to my people. To Ferelith. To Maria. To King Rommel. To my father Albrecht and my mother Sieglinde. I owe it to all of them."
And she said again,
"I have to try."
They walked down a street in Alliria under the bright morning sun. Heike with her hood up, her clawed hands and her arms hidden under the shawl draped over her shoulders. Captain Bronmarch walked beside her.
She was nervous. For the love and home and hearth, she was nervous. She kept replaying the conversation she had with Captain Bronmarch in her mind, the advice he had offered her, over and over again:
Heike remembered that nod--that dour nod--most clearly. It was the manifestation of her fear in doing this, in seeking out a Templar's help. Here, going along with Bronmarch's advice, there were only two possible outcomes: success, or death. Of that she was certain.
Yet, should she succeed in convincing this Templar, she might very well be on the path to achieving that which she dreamed of for nearly six years now.
A cure.
A cure for her vampirism.
Heike and Captain Bronmarch walked. A small group of songbirds flew over the street, landed on a shop to Heike's left, and chirped merrily away, all the ills of the world blissfully unknown to them.
Heike sat in a tavern in the Outer City of Alliria, a small place known as Tankards Up. Captain Bronmarch had come in with her briefly. Sat down with her at a two-person table by an east-facing window so that no undue suspicion might be roused by her. He offered her a few last words of quiet encouragement. Then stood. Left.
And she was alone. Sitting in the glare of the sun through the window, protected from near-instantaneous paralysis by the thin layer of cloth that was the hood over her head and the rest of her clothes. Any slight turn of her head to her left would allow the light of the sun to touch the flesh of her unmasked face.
Her hands she kept under her shawl. And something came back to her. Something she had not experienced in a long time: the shakes. Her hands were shaking, ever so slightly. This like breathing, like blushing, ghosts of the old functions of a body that was once alive--pale mimicries. If her heart was not stilled by her affliction, she had no doubt it would be hammering against her chest.
Success.
Or death.
A Templar had answered the somewhat vague notice placed by Captain Bronmarch upon one of the bounty boards in Alliria. Had inquired to the Guard about meeting the "Ms. Eisen" (Bronmarch's call on the presentation of Heike's name as well) who sought the aid of a Templar.
And this Templar would be coming into the Tankards Up tavern at any moment.
Alaric
"I have to try," Heike said. "I owe it to my people. To Ferelith. To Maria. To King Rommel. To my father Albrecht and my mother Sieglinde. I owe it to all of them."
And she said again,
"I have to try."
* * * * *
They walked down a street in Alliria under the bright morning sun. Heike with her hood up, her clawed hands and her arms hidden under the shawl draped over her shoulders. Captain Bronmarch walked beside her.
She was nervous. For the love and home and hearth, she was nervous. She kept replaying the conversation she had with Captain Bronmarch in her mind, the advice he had offered her, over and over again:
"My recommendation is that you meet him in a public place," Bronmarch had said.
"...How public?"
"A tavern."
Heike had canted her head in a wary manner at this.
Bronmarch continued: "The idea is to make him feel as secure as possible. You do not want him to think that this is some sort of trap or trick. I have no doubt that a Templar will not hesitate to kill you if he suspects as much, given...given what you are, Heike."
"Right," she had taken in a false breath here, and, in rhythm with her memory of the conversation, took one at present. "What else?"
"There should be travelers and inn-goers eating breakfast. Plenty of other normal people, good folk, but not too many. I advise further that we arrange this meeting during daylight hours, during a clear day with full sunshine, and..."
"And what, Bronmarch?"
"And that you sit by a window in the tavern. In direct sunlight."
"I..." Heike had hesitated here, but summoned resolve. Remembered why she was doing what she was doing. "I understand."
"This is merely my advice," Bronmarch had said. "I think that with a Templar you will need to be even more trustworthy than you were with me. You need to put yourself at as many disadvantages as reason permits, give him the absolute high ground. This means--"
"--no chance of escape. If something goes wrong," Heike had said for him.
And Captain Bronmarch had nodded grimly.
"...How public?"
"A tavern."
Heike had canted her head in a wary manner at this.
Bronmarch continued: "The idea is to make him feel as secure as possible. You do not want him to think that this is some sort of trap or trick. I have no doubt that a Templar will not hesitate to kill you if he suspects as much, given...given what you are, Heike."
"Right," she had taken in a false breath here, and, in rhythm with her memory of the conversation, took one at present. "What else?"
"There should be travelers and inn-goers eating breakfast. Plenty of other normal people, good folk, but not too many. I advise further that we arrange this meeting during daylight hours, during a clear day with full sunshine, and..."
"And what, Bronmarch?"
"And that you sit by a window in the tavern. In direct sunlight."
"I..." Heike had hesitated here, but summoned resolve. Remembered why she was doing what she was doing. "I understand."
"This is merely my advice," Bronmarch had said. "I think that with a Templar you will need to be even more trustworthy than you were with me. You need to put yourself at as many disadvantages as reason permits, give him the absolute high ground. This means--"
"--no chance of escape. If something goes wrong," Heike had said for him.
And Captain Bronmarch had nodded grimly.
Heike remembered that nod--that dour nod--most clearly. It was the manifestation of her fear in doing this, in seeking out a Templar's help. Here, going along with Bronmarch's advice, there were only two possible outcomes: success, or death. Of that she was certain.
Yet, should she succeed in convincing this Templar, she might very well be on the path to achieving that which she dreamed of for nearly six years now.
A cure.
A cure for her vampirism.
Heike and Captain Bronmarch walked. A small group of songbirds flew over the street, landed on a shop to Heike's left, and chirped merrily away, all the ills of the world blissfully unknown to them.
* * * * *
Heike sat in a tavern in the Outer City of Alliria, a small place known as Tankards Up. Captain Bronmarch had come in with her briefly. Sat down with her at a two-person table by an east-facing window so that no undue suspicion might be roused by her. He offered her a few last words of quiet encouragement. Then stood. Left.
And she was alone. Sitting in the glare of the sun through the window, protected from near-instantaneous paralysis by the thin layer of cloth that was the hood over her head and the rest of her clothes. Any slight turn of her head to her left would allow the light of the sun to touch the flesh of her unmasked face.
Her hands she kept under her shawl. And something came back to her. Something she had not experienced in a long time: the shakes. Her hands were shaking, ever so slightly. This like breathing, like blushing, ghosts of the old functions of a body that was once alive--pale mimicries. If her heart was not stilled by her affliction, she had no doubt it would be hammering against her chest.
Success.
Or death.
A Templar had answered the somewhat vague notice placed by Captain Bronmarch upon one of the bounty boards in Alliria. Had inquired to the Guard about meeting the "Ms. Eisen" (Bronmarch's call on the presentation of Heike's name as well) who sought the aid of a Templar.
And this Templar would be coming into the Tankards Up tavern at any moment.
Alaric
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