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Strangers and Bloodletting (Vahn Seele x LaPieta)

Alric stopped as he heard the feminine shout from around the back of the property. "Take your time." The man said, crossing his arms as he took in the sight of the home. It was small, quaint, and it looked to be self-sufficient in providing for someone. The thought that it could be a woman was another sign that Alric would be bringing back to his group. Women who lived alone in the forest were either unscrupulous or prone to witchcraft. The stereotype had never been proven wrong, as they either had the desire to repent and admit their claims, or they died with conviction for their crimes at the stake, the fire below removing their impurity from the world.

Alric waited patiently for the woman to come around, his suspicions on high alert at the moment. They'd have to ask around about her, as character references to her likelihood of being a witch would need confirmation. The church had a way of doing things, and they wouldn't drag her away without clear cut evidence. Unless she acted as a witch, showed some signs of being a witch openly, all Alric was entitled to do was to question her.
 
Ospina does not, in fact, take her time, not willing to allow him the opportunity to pry. Enough laundry to be convincing is brought back for hanging on the clothesline; her hands are full as she walks into view of the imposing knight wearing the heraldry of the Inquisition. An innocent-seeming smile is given to the imposing knight; Ospina conducts her body language in such a way as to seem as innocuous and harmless as possible, the best curtsy possible is given considering her hands are carrying a basket of wet laundry.

"Hello sir! It's not often Barovia gets visitors. What brings you to these parts?"

She steps to the clothesline while talking, away from the door to the house. There were myriad outdoor chores she could do whilst talking with the man to try and draw him from the house during the conversation. The facade of politeness must be maintained, for if it was broken she and Corinth wouldn't stand a chance.
 
Alric gave her a nod as gave a polite greeting to him. Her demeanor and attitude did not denote her to be a witch, but what witch so openly professes herself one in her actions? It is always those that remain in the light, showing their goodness and heart, that can harbor the darkest of desires and powers behind their flesh mask.

"Ma'am, I am Sir Alric Jondron, knight to Inquisitor Laurentius. I've come searching for a creature that might have come wandering this way." He said, following her. His mind did not drift to the manner in which she drew them away from the door. He wouldn't require entry into her home, because he hadn't found suspicion beyond speculation. Laurentius would scold him for "seeking devils where they not lie."

"There was an attack on a carriage passing through, a creature of the night gaining escape into the forest. I cannot be certain of it, but I'm afraid the tracks are close to your home here. Do you live here alone? Have you seen anything of note in the last few days?" He asked. He kept his tone proper and precise, giving enough info to try and draw out a falsehood. It did not prevent him from being polite with her, as she seemed a nice enough woman. Women left to live alone, though, always had some tragic reason.
 
"A creature of the night? Oh god... yes, I live here alone, sir knight. I... if there are creatures of the night wandering about, I should head to town, purchase a weapon, more garlic. Plant some betony." She lets panic seep into her voice.

"The only thing unusual I can think of at the moment is that the wolves have been a lot more noisy as of late. I've been trying to avoid the forest as best I can until they move on. Lost a chicken, my best guess was it was a wolf or a fox, but now that you bring up the possibility of an unholy creature, the lack of claw marks or blood or an entry point makes sense now." Thankfully, her chickens could not rat her out for making up an imaginary sister, tragically lost to equally imaginary mysterious circumstances. They had already tracked him to this forest, this general area; to say she had seen nothing would only trip more suspicion, at least this way she could perhaps make it seem like he had passed through without her knowledge. It could also make him more suspicious as to why she and the other chickens were left alive. She really should have thought of a better lie, but hopefully he could draw erroneous conclusions.

"Are the carriage passengers okay? I can provide medical treatment if... if they are still clinging to life."
 
Sir Alric took her answer into consideration. She seemed to know the stories of night creatures, some of the methods in which to deal with them. Then again, taht was to be expected for a woman who lived on her own. The smaller villages were always prone to the superstitions that plagued the land. Even if they were false in their beliefs, they were not lovers of the night. Even a little bit of hope, in the form of a false defense, was better than nothing.

"Only one chicken has gone missing? You are sure of this? I find it hard to believe that a creature, who openly ripped out the throat of his 'handler' would leave your home, and the other chickens, untouched." He said, stating his obvious concern for how unlikely the story was.

His concerns would be put on the back burner as she revealed her nature of being a healer. "You practice the holy art of healing? Of what church sect do you report?" This was an obvious misconception on his part. Assuming that she was a healer, in the magical sense, using the divine light of the church to heal.

Most in the land would know that the church did not have skilled healers. They were priests, nothing less and nothing more, trying to "channel" the divinity of the church to healing. If someone got better, the church looked better. If someone passed away after a prayer, they were not deserving of healing. A punishment for sin left unforgiven.
 
"I am certain; I apologize, I let my panic get the better of me; when you lay it out like that it does seem unlikely that such a creature would let me live, let alone the other chickens. It probably was just a fox. I am thankful that such a creature passed me over, hopefully it does not linger in the village. The villagers here are people of the land, the common clay of the frontier. Good, honest folk. They don't deserve any tragedy such a creature may bring."

Fear runs through her; the church had a spotty relationship with healers outside of their ranks. If those within their ranks could even be called healers.

"Oh, I do not claim or practice divine magic. Merely medicinal herbs and anatomical knowledge. Incomparable to the divine light, but clerics rarely linger in villages such as these." She does not mention that the reason clerics didn't linger was likely to attend to richer clientele.
 
Sir Alric gave a small acknowledgement of a nod. "It does seem more likely that a fox would have taken one, yes. Not greedy enough to ruin a food source, and not dumb enough to alert you." He said, taking in the details of her as she would speak. There was something off, something that he couldn't put his fingers on. When she mentioned she was a medicinal healer, a look of disdain showed in his features. This was the look the villagers always gave her, until her aid was properly needed.

"'Healers' who follow the path of medicine and anatomy live dangerous professions. One slip in the wrong direction and you are dabbling in the arts of witchery and demon worship." Alric said, showing his distaste for her profession. It was a pity. She was a beautiful woman. Then again, the prettiest were the ones who were the most deceptive with their femininity.

"As you had said, nothing has come through here in the last day. As a practitioner of... medicine, would you mind walking me through some of your 'healing'? I know there can be a regional difference when discussing the matter." Alric said, that air of superiority not going away. She tread a dangerous line with the knight, a man who was not willing to play games.
 
The girl suppresses the urge to question the supposed correlation between knowing how bones work and demon worship. The urge to mock this belief is equally suppressed.

"Of course! Certain herbs and their refinements have noticeable effects on various illnesses and wounds, and human anatomy reacts to certain procedures in certain ways, ones that have been painstakingly recorded and tested over generations. My master initially kept meticulous records using drawings, since she couldn't read and write at first. I helped teach her how to do so, and we augmented her knowledge with knowledge from the texts I had taken from my family's library. There's always more to learn, of course, but I think we created a fairly comprehensive guide to the medicinal uses of the herbs in the area, as well as usable techniques to help with wounds and broken bones and the like." Ospina chirps happily, proud of what she and her old master had created.

She moves to begin chopping firewood as they speak, the chopping block still a bit away from the house proper; hard work, but necessary, especially with the winter coming soon.
 
Sir Alric gave a nod as he listened to her speak. She spoke very well, not like most who he had interrogated regarding their own private forms of healing. he had seen some who claimed bloodletting, animal sacrifice, even more bizarre treatments as being capable of restoring a human body and soul. They'd burned at the stake within the day.

For her, though, this woman was far more composed. As he was about to ask more, she began to chop wood, a sight that he found strange. Did she truly live alone? That seemed rather odd, a woman so well to do in taking care of herself and being grounded in some popular, secular beliefs in healing. "I see. Well, if you don't mind, I need to go back to investigating. I didn't get your name." He asked. Whether he would tell her or not, Alric was going to investigate her in the nearby town. She gave no reason to require search, and her story, thus far, was quite convincing. Whether Laurentius felt the same, though, would be up to the Inquisitor.
 
"I am Ospina of Thorolund, sir knight. I hope your investigation goes well; the thought of such a creature stalking the night is frightening. Let me know if you need any assistance."

She smiles benignly as the knight leaves the area; for a while she continues chopping enough wood for it to be plausible when she stops to go inside. Once she's in the safety of the home, door shut behind her, she falls to her knees upon floor, beginning to hyperventilate. Her thoughts race as to whether anything she had said would cause the inquisition to come back here, whether they'd try and search the place, try to kill her. A hand is pressed to her chest, heart racing underneath as she tries to compose herself; there were still chores that needed doing, and she'd be unable to alert Corinth until nightfall, as far as she knew.

It takes a few minutes for her to regather herself before she heads back outside to finish up the last of the laundry; the labor helps soothe her, smoothing out the rough thoughts plaguing her.
 
Sir Alric would vanish from sight, going to return to his group to speak of his findings at Ospina's home. With the group of knights gathering, the plan came together to check with the town to learn of the woman's reputation. If the town found her to be truly productive, perhaps it would spare the girl being burned at the stake. As it was, Alric was eager to get the stake burning preparations going, the conversation he had had leaving him with his plethora of doubts about her soul's allegiance between light and dark.

Corinth, through all of this, would be dead asleep on his cot, undisturbed by the sounds of the door or the conversation outside. It was lucky that he had not been found, but there was no telling how long he would be able to stay there with Ospina.
 
Ospina continues the day's chores, weeding and watering the garden, feeding the chickens, foraging in the forest, checking the traps, continuing the work on the root cellar, and folding the now-dry laundry.

By the time she has finished her bath in the stream, she is tired and the sun is beginning to set. The thought occurs to her that she should be trying to pack up and run away occurs to her; it is a thought she is reluctant to embraxe. If she was caught fleeing, they'd certainly burn her, and Corinth was still recovering; she couldn't force him out just yet, even if she wanted to. In addition, this place had been practically built by her own two hands, her life here built through time and effort; she didn't want to have to abandon all she had worked for.

Some of the excess meat had been set aside for dinner rather than drying, she makes a lovely roast with a lentil mash to accompany it. She sings softly as she cooks, a song of old, unhappy, far-off things, and battles long ago, until Corinth begins to stir.

"Corinth? There was a knight here earlier; I'm not sure what he'll do. He didn't find you, but I...I'm still scared."
 
Corinth would slowly wake as he felt the hours of the day begin to fade, slowly rising as he rubs at his eyes. Looking around the room, Corinth gives her a pleasant smile, as much as he could in his dazed state. It looked more half-drunk, depending on who was asking. "Morning." He said, always finding it a bit humorous to call the night "morning" when he knew very well what time it was.

As he heard her speak, the words of a knight coming to visit shook the sleep from his brain. "Well, that was faster than expected. Then again, the knights of the church are rarely slow." Corinth said, sighing as he looked around the room. "I can be gone in a few hours. If I leave them an obvious trail of where I'm going, maybe they will follow me." He said, looking to her with a bit of guilt. "I'll... need some of your blood, though, to recover enough to leave." He said, hating to admit that he'd have to feed on her again.

Human blood was the best cure for him, but taking Ospina's blood felt like a violation of the trust between them. Asking for it was a betrayal, as he knew she'd give him whatever it would take to get him healthy again. "I'm sorry to have led them to you without warning you in advance." It was apparent he was distancing himself from her, no longer looking her direction, guilt written into his features.
 
She gives a feeble smile at his joke, more at the charming, inebriated-seeming smile he gave her than anything else. It pains her to bring the news that causes the smile to depart. But a question had been burning in her mind since the knight had questioned her.

"It's not your fault, it likely would have gone much the same way even with warning. He...the knight mentioned you had killed a carriage of people. Corinth, please be honest with me, is this true?"

Her eyes are earnest, scared of what the answer may be. Words continue to quickly tumble from her mouth:

"I'll still give you my blood, or more time here to recover if you need it. Compassion is hardly that if it's not unconditional. Just...if it is true, I ask you to try and be better for the future. You have a good heart, you have it in you to overcome those instincts. I believe in you, your capacity for good." She moves to take his hands, gripping tight.
 
Corinth looked back at her as she came closer to him, his crimson eyes a mixture of conflict and self-hate. There were a lot of things that he had done in his life, a lot of lives he had taken. Of all the ones to matter, it was a knight who was holding him captive? He wanted to be angry, to defend his actions, but Corinth couldn't do it. Ospina deserved respect, deserved... better than him.

"If by a carriage of people, you mean one of the knights that had held me captive and starved me, then yes. In my escape, I chose to take his life to save my own." Corinth said, his voice suddenly very cold. It sounded as if he had slipped out of himself, and something had taken hold of him, stealing whatever heart he may have had. "I don't regret what I did. The knights of the church are ruthless, and they'd have killed me the same way." His words showed the harsh reality of what it was to be a vampire, the antithesis to life itself.

"I'm glad to hear that you believe in me, even if I doubt I could ever be what you see me as." Corinth said, sighing as he sought to draw his hands away from hers.
 
She nods solemnly, some semblance of relief running through her; it was not an innocent stagecoach like the knight had implied, but people intent on killing Corinth. Still, his change in tone unnerved her.

"I understand; self preservation is only human, after all. They were intent on ending you, you had every right to defend yourself. It's still sad, but I understand."

Her hands let his go regretfully; Ospina sighs in turn before pulling up her sleeve and offering her wrist.

"Drink what you need to travel safely, okay? You don't have to leave if you don't want to, if you need more time to heal. We can figure out a way to keep you hidden if you need to stay; I don't want anything happening to you."

She squeezes her eyes shut as her wrist is bared; the sight of blood did not faze her, unless it was her own.
 
Corinth felt her words strike him as if they were as sharp as spears of silver. She was kind, and it hurt to take anything more from her. If he knew that he could manage it on his own, without her blood, Corinth wouldn't have thought twice about leaving without a drop of her blood. Unfortunately, her blood would be the only thing to push him to the point of being self-sufficient again.

Drawing his cold fingers up, he took hold of her wrist and felt her pulse against his fingers. Her skin was warm, filling his skin with the reminder of the life that her body held within it. Sighing, he leaned forward and drug his tongue along her pulse, leaving a light smear of his saliva before pressing his teeth carefully over her vein. There would only be a small pop of skin as his fangs pierced it, denying Corinth a full feed. She'd need to remain conscious over the next few days, and drawing heavily would likely leave her unprepared for the coming of the knights.

Drinking slowly, Corinth savored the return of the taste of her blood, warm and life-giving as it flowed down his throat. If there were any wounds unhealed, this would fully restore him. As it wouldn't take much to bring him back to most of his full strength, Corinth drew back when he had barely taken a pint from her. He pressed his fingers over the puncture wounds and wiped at his lips with his arm. "I don't need more than that." He said, being very controlled and tame as he moved to offer her back her wrist.
 
An airy sigh escapes her as the fangs pierce her flesh, again feeling far more pleasurable than she could ever anticipate. She can feel her life pouring out of her, moving to bolster his own; as if her blood is still a part of her. Her free hand has moved to the back of his head, twining with his hair to press, anything to keep him feeding.

It is with a groan of bitter misery that he separates, the girl now practically draping herself over him, nuzzling into his chest. Inhibitions had fallen by the wayside, her words spilling out, slurred and lilted like a drunkard's.

"That felt nice. You feel nice Corinth, I'm glad you're okay. I don't want you to leave. I don't wanna leave either..." she mumbles into his chest, the euphoria addling her better senses.
 
Corinth watched as Ospina's body came to press against him, the pleasure of his bite overwhelming her senses. While he knew he could have that effect on women, perhaps it was something about the time that the two had spent together over the past day or two. as Corinth had never spent enough time around a person to learn about the effects he could have on someone, he was slowly pressing into some rather uncertain territory.

Moving his arms, he helped to support her, bringing her up to where she was sitting on the bed beside him, draped to lean against his shoulder. "I don't want to leave either." He said, his tone softening from earlier. If he had his way, Corinth would stay there with her. There was nothing more that he wanted than to enjoy Ospina's company, she being the only human who had ever gave him the respect of treating him with some humanity.

Reaching his hand up, Corinth drug his fingers through her hair, pressing his fingertips against her scalp as he smelled the wonderful scent of lavender on her.
 
A giggle escapes as he runs his hands through her hair, the sensation almost ticklish; she inhales sharply against him, taking in his almost-coppery scent.

"Then don't. We can figure something out. Or we can leave together." She mumbles into him, eyelids slowly drooping as the day's labors combine with the blood loss to take their toll. Her form begins to go slack against his as she continues to drunkenly mumble:

"Your hands feel nice too. Stay with me until I'm sleeping, at least?" The latter would not take long, it seemed. A sleepy kiss is pressed to his cheek before slumber takes her, breathing slowing as her eyes gently close.
 
Hearing the suggestion, that the two leave together, Corinth wanted to pack her up and leave that night. If he were able to fashion a makeshift box to shield himself from the sun, wrapped in some cloth, it would suffice to keep him safe. It would require a cart or carriage, though, as well as packing up all of her things. There was quite a bit that would need done, and the chances of the two getting the necessary time to leave were not going to be on their side.

"I'll stay with you until you fall asleep." He said. Corinth was surprised that it happened so quickly. Ospina was slumped against him, her breathing coming in with slow breaths following the warmth of her kiss against his cheek. With a faint sigh, Corinth moved to pick her up, carrying her to her bed. Tucking her in, Corinth began to go through the home to remove any trace of himself from her home. The task was simple enough, as he only had to gather his tattered clothes, along with the spare ones. With all of his possessions, as few there were, gathered into a makeshift bag, Corinth eyed a blank piece of paper.

Sitting down, Corinth looked to Ospina. What should he say? What could he say? There was too much in his mind at that moment, and he wanted to nothing more than to stay with her. Her life was not worth his happiness, though, and even the chance that he could save her would be worth the heartache.

Setting ink to paper, Corinth wrote his letter to Ospina:
Ospina,

I know that you wanted to leave together, but there is not enough time. If we had a day, if I could guarantee your safety, I wouldn't leave in this way. I can only hope that what I do tonight will be sufficient enough to save you.

Regardless of what happens, do not remain here. Your healing methods, while sound in science, will not be tolerated by the church. Within a day or two, I believe they may seek to "purify" the region of your presence. Take everything of importance and leave.

Regardless of what happens, know that I will never forget you. You were the first, and only, person I've met in my thirty years of life as a vampire who treated me with dignity and respect. I hope that, once the church has moved on, we may meet again. Nothing would make me happier than to see you again, so long as you are safe.

-Corinth

Tucking the letter into her hand, Corinth gathered his things and set about his plan. There were things that needed done, and he'd have to use most of the night to achieve his goals.

By the time the sun would be coming up, the local village would be in an uproar. Livestock would be slain, drained of blood, the inquisition setting about their investigation as simple minded villagers would be screaming about a monster. If there had been talk of Ospina's status as a witch, it would be drowned out by the mauled animals. The trail of death would lead away from the village, heading south toward the coastal region. A carriage, along with a horse and supplies, would be missing, as well.

To the surprise of many, no human would be found dead.
 
By morning, Ospina has recovered somewhat from the blood loss, eyes bleary as she gradually wakes up. It takes a bit for her to open her eyes and register Corinth's absenhe paper in her hand; she scrunches her eyebrows and reads.

It hurts her. She understands, but it hurts her nevertheless; the girl shares the hope they may meet again, but she must process the hurt later, He was right; she had to leave and not be caught doing so. The church would likely call for her death and the town would all-too-happily oblige.

A hefty old backpack is gathered, stuffed with her doctor's bag, the codex, a silken dress, a map, the remnants of her savings, and a number of basic supplies and tools. She frees her chickens; animals always seemed to want to escape from their homes, hopefully the poor things would live decent lives outside of captivity, or be scooped up by the townsfolk and given good homes.

The girl wasn't quite sure where she could go while remaining discreet; she could not outpace the news, which generally traveled on horseback with the church. The nearby villages would offer little in the way of anonymity, likely alerting the church about her presence and direction. It seemed she would have to keep to the less-travelled roads, isolated inns and farmhouses on her journey to Talbrean, where she would be able to don the shroud of obscurity that a populous city offered.

She is still gathering some supplies when her head turns to see the sight of torches marching from the village; there would be no time for a lingering good-bye; she had to run.

Ospina takes to the woods, trying to keep her steps light and careful so as not to give them a trail. How well she succeeds is unknown to her.

Soon, the sound of hoofbeats echoes in the distance; without thought she moves to hide the backpack in a hollowed out log; the location was not far from her trapping trail, so she could likely find it again if necessary.
 
The villagers would be gathering with Laurentius's group. The knights had gathered to get information from the villagers after their thorough search of the forest, finding the village was amiss with issues. Alric would be the first to make the suggestion of the witch in the woods, Ospina found suspicious after a large purchase of animals killed in a certain way. Even if the logic did not make sense, Ospina was named the culprit to encourage the damages that the village had suffered.

While some of the knights began to gather with villagers to get a pyre built in the middle of the village, Alric would lead the charge to capture the source of all their trouble. With a missing carriage and horse, there was a thought that she might have fled in the night, but the knights that had gone to scout her home had seen that she was moving about, almost frantically. It wouldn't do for them to leave her alone much longer.

As the afternoon began to grow hot, the sun high in the sky, Alric would lead the charge to go capture Ospina. Riding on horseback toward the house, Alric would shout at a few knights who were standing guard, making sure that she did not flee the road outside of her home. In their error, the knights had not watched closely and found the home to be somewhat barren, with nothing of value inside. "Burn it down! We will have our witch!" Alric ordered, setting his horse to the small trails behind her home.

It would take some time, but he would soon find her trail, Alric closing in on Ospina. "Your flight proves your guilt, witch! Those who remain in league with demons deserve the fire they claim to love." He shouted, hopping off of his horse and running after her. His sword was drawn, the weight of his armor slowing him slightly and creating quite a ruckus.
 
The girl bolts like a startled rabbit as soon as she hears the shouting of the knights, the thunder of hoof-beats. Branches and thorns hit her face and legs as she dashes through the woods, leaving little scratches that are firmly ignored in favor of the pain lancing through her muscles, the lack of breath strangling her lungs; she had been running for what simultaneously felt like seconds and hours, unsure of how much distance she had covered. But a human usually cannot outrun a horse, and Ospina is no exception. The lead Alric's horse provided was more than sufficient to let him catch up with her on foot, even with his armor.

She finds herself promptly tackled to the ground, the cold metal's weight crushing her to the brush and dirt; a horrid sob escapes as she is promptly bound, likely to be brought to her death.

"I'm not a witch, I'm not, please don't kill me, please-"

Ospina shakes her head frantically, trying to convey that she didn't do it. She was still a person, a sapient being, she still had so much left to do and experience and learn, to die was terrible, to die so pointlessly even more-so. Still images of her life flash before her. Plain and simple, she did not want to die. Not now, and not ever.
 
Alric hoisted her up once she was bound with the rope, giving an audible scoff as he draped her over the back of his horse. "A witch rarely recants. You've brought a plague upon this village, with no one sharing a kind word in your favor. Your 'help' is no longer needed, and your life has been a waste of effort." Alric said, fashioning a cloth to silence her and cover her eyes as she was taken back to the village. As they were riding back, there would be an intense heat as they strode by what Ospina would know was her house. It was being burnt to the ground, with nothing being spared as all her efforts, all her life was being destroyed before her blind eyes.

"Make sure nothing survives the burning. We'll make sure her body is soon to follow this evening." Alric said, bringing Ospina back to the village to Laurentius. When she was brought back to the village, she was placed in a room, bound to a chair and sat at a table in front of the Inquisitor, Laurentius. The room was dim, with no outside light to give Ospina any hope of knowing the time of day. Her mouth and eyes were uncovered, revealing a stern-looking man with a sharp jawline. His hair was short and a deep black, his eyes a piercing light blue, almost similar to translucent shards of ice.

"Ospina, you are accused of witchcraft, along with aiding a beast of the night. While we don't have sufficient evidence to prove the latter, the former is enough to warrant your burning. To these claims, how do you plea?" While he was dressed in the same armor as Alric, there was a decoration of golden trim along his cross that denoted his higher rank among the knights. He held the title of Inquisitor ,while Alric was merely a knight.
 
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