William vigilantly stood on guard duty constantly observing the surrounding fields and relying on the moon to reveal whatever unforeseen threat lay in the darkness. Sitting next to him was Victoria, who was preparing yet another salve for whatever peculiar purpose she had in mind. The grinding of wood on stone accompanied the dwindling ruckus from campsite behind them. William’s thoughts were split between sweeping parses over the darkened fields and the strange decisions of his oddly co-operative captive. Despite William encountering dozens of supernatural creatures which could warp the fabric of reality, the entity currently in his ward was likely the strangest being he had faced.
“I have been thinking about it,” William began tenderly, more for his own sake than that of his prisoner, “Why are you so different than your kin?” Victoria paused her meticulous grinding so that she could focus her full attention on the conversation. “I think there are two reasons. The first reason is that your job forces you to fight against the worst of my kind. There may be more peaceful vampires who have no desire to harm humanity, but they do not garner the attention of the church and thus you have never met one.” William instinctively flinched when that thought crossed his mind. Whatever his opinions on this specific vampire, his hardened distrust of magical creatures made the thought of unknown armies of vampires terrifying.
“I would assume that church does not exist to purge undesirable creatures from the world.” William struggled to maintain his composure at this latest statement, “I would suggest that you refrain from insulting the church.” A heavy silence settled between them; William was shaken not only by her words but his sudden outburst. Victoria calmly resumed her conversation, “So you deny that vampires only experience the violent side of the church? I am sure that several of your covenant’s members talk about putting the fear of God in their enemies. Both the Church and us vampires will often only see the other as uncompromising monsters as we both only interact under hostile circumstances.”” William could not respond, his religious pride struggled internally to find any fault with her statement. Try as he might, her words had struck an uncomfortable chord. His mission, ordained under god’s will, could be considered horrendous and evil to their foes, regardless of their purity. William, trying to regain any control over their interaction, decided to try to pivot the conversation away from this particular topic and its implications. “You said there were two reasons...”
“The second reason would be that I do not see power as either desirable or as something which grants superiority. I know that inevitably I will grow to have some sort of physical prowess, but it does grant me dominion over others. In my opinion, wielding power does not give enough benefit to justify the downsides which come along with it.” This answer was surprising and, in many respects, more humble and selfless than he would expect from many of the church’s higher members. “So, you view power as evil?” William asked tentatively. “Power in itself is not evil; it is just strength manifested into various forms. Wealth, physical prowess, political influence or religious authority, these forms tend to either corrupt the wielder or warp those around them. I would rather avoid the trappings of power if I can avoid it.”
Her reasoning began to resonate with him, starting to form connections which he previously had not seen. Her medical profession was likely a deliberate choice, allowing her to collect blood without attracting much attention. Even the choice to live as part of a caravan helped disguise her unageing body, as few people would interact with her on an extended basis. This raised another question; how she was detected as she would likely avoid disclosing her identity? Though this was a question for another time.
His captive was very permissive, allowing him to satisfy his curiosity. Regardless of the impression this made, William was still hesitant about her words. “Let’s say I believe you, why would you allow yourself to be captured without any resistance?” Victoria pondered the question, “In simple terms, this was my best option. I am not well versed in combat, so most attempts at resistance would be fruitless and painful. Likewise due to my weaknesses, I would either be tracked and killed or be at the mercy of other danger if I were to flee, especially as I would have to leave behind most of my resources and support.” “Wouldn’t immediate capture and surrender also be suicide?” asked William, his mind now starting to build on her unusual logical foundation. “Well, you are correct that it would likely to lead to my death. However, it would be a clean death with minimal suffering which the other options were unlikely to provide. But that option does have a potential benefit if members of the church could see beyond my vampirism.” William paused, “What blasphemous service could a vampire possibly offer the church?” Victoria brushed of the accusation and simply replied, “If anyone stopped seeing me as an enemy which must immediately be exterminated and instead saw me as a powerful immortal being willing to work with them, various possibilities open up if I were to join your church. Even if you didn’t see me as an immortal ally, I am sure the church could tolerate a live practice target who could assist with training new recruits.”
The conversation was then cut uncomfortably short by Beatrice, who limped across to get her leg redressed. The curiosity held by William had been partially sated, at the cost of warping his devout world view. Whether or not Victoria was “good” was still an open question, but he could now see the church from another perspective that bordered on heretical. While he would pray on this issue at a later date, this newfound clarity saw him revisiting many past interactions, particularly his reckless pursuit of various foes which likely endangered more lives than if he used a more cautious approach. William did not want to admit it, but as ungodly as his captive was, he was warming up to her. Not as a person, but as someone who was more useful alive than dead.
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Rose had been observing the conversation from within Victoria’s shadow; from what she could tell, her master’s attempts at diplomacy appeared to be going well. Her initial surveillance at the entrance to the caravan, and further interactions with Edward and Beatrice, indicated William generally wanted to protect humanity. This fitted with Victoria’s assumption that as long as there was no obvious threat of violence, he could be pacified to a degree. They were in general agreement that they were lucky in their assigned pursuer, as more zealous pursuers or multiple clergy would see a swift execution. William's steadfast commitment to his cause was not as bad as to blind him to alternative world views, so compliance was proving to be the correct strategy.
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After four more days of travel the caravan of assorted merchants arrived at a large town. While this town was not large enough to be considered a city, it was larger than the surrounding clusters of peasants. The arrival of the caravan brought many people to the outer limits of the town, where the caravan temporarily resided. The chosen camping spot was on the edge of a frenzied construction of a solid wooden wall which encircled the town. The wall would hopefully protect the town from the dangers of the ravenous wilderness that lay beyond its borders.
Once the hastily built market had been established, a flurry of trade soon followed in rapid succession. The merchants sold whatever excess stock they could spare from their journey up from the south, freely exchanging it with the local populace. Many of the traders also picked up additional goods from the townsfolk, intending to sell them on at a later point. William reluctantly allowed Victoria to practice medicine on the needy townsfolk. The local doctor did not approve of her practice, one of his more polite statements amounting to “The woman should know her place” and “She should stop her practice and focus on assisting her husband with his trade.” William’s presence gave an unofficial endorsement from the church and elevated her standing somewhat, but only served to silence some voices. She operated in a make-shift tent, underneath a canvas cloth, which shielded her from both the sun and the weather. William took residence in a nearby corner, offering prayers while she performed her treatments. The two were often interrupted by Leo who required assistance or “advice” from Victoria in regards to various transactions.
The caravan was generally popular with the local rabble, who gave a particular appreciation to any merchant carrying alcohol from ever distant lands. Many of the nomadic travelers treated the tavern as a second home, listening to the slurred tales that flowed freely from drunken mouths. Many were nothing more than boastful exaggerations created to boost their own bravado, with only a scarce few sounding plausible. The caravan always had ears eager for information and the more charismatic members had already collected most of the town’s gossip before the sun had risen on the second day.
William took this opportunity to visit the local chaplain, to receive whatever passed as news from the main church. The worn stone church lay on the outer reaches of town, surrounded by a small stone wall that separated both the graveyard and the church from the town. An old grave digger could be seen preparing two fresh graves for two unfortunate souls which had recently departed this world. William entered the church to the sight of two hallowed men hunched over their altar in fervent prayer. The younger of the two was first to realise his presence, his flexibly annoyed tone turning into overjoyed celebration. The priest then proceeded to throw himself on William, exclaiming “Thank you! Thank you! Our prayers have been answered. This is a joyous day!”
Both priests wore plain church robes with no ornate decoration, which was a symbol of their supposed humility. The senior priest had seen many winters, time had withered his body into a shell of what it had previously been. His balding head was covered in moles of varying sizes that poked through the sparse remaining pale grey hair. Despite his declining mass, his body had not yet deteriorated so far as that he could not struggle his way through his daily chores. His junior was far younger and was the first of the two to straighten up, dusting himself and wiping his crooked nose to better present himself.
“What is going on here? Pull yourselves together,” William exclaimed, as he sat his fellow clergymen down on a nearby pew. The older one sat down, apologising for his less than composed behavior. “My apologies that you saw us in that state. Our god-fearing village has been troubled lately.” “The arrival of the caravan full of the temptation is bad enough, but the recent deaths overshadow any deviation from the lord’s path. It’s the work of demons, I am sure some have infiltrated our flock.” The old man hushed his junior before his zealous faith deviated the discussion from the serious nature of their condition. “It’s not a demon, Matthew. It’s a werewolf*. It is true that they are ungodly beasts yet are very different from demons. Would you consider Lust and Gluttony to be the same sin? No. You need to study your bible more, not every creature of darkness is a demon, just as not every light-blessed creature is an angel.” This appeared to be a common argument between the two, the younger one held back. “Yes, Father Joseph.” And a common theme.
To the two unfortunate clerics, William was akin to a holy saviour sent to their quiet town from their lord. The small town had been experiencing a series of bloody werewolf attacks and the two graves that William had passed were further proof of that grim reality. The total number of causalities had so far been around eight humans and several more of the local wildlife and livestock. The citizenry had been kept in the dark about the true horror of the situation; the local officials claimed that they were mere wolf attacks not the work of mythical werewolves. The local church had sent requests for aid over the prior month with no response.
William excused himself to examine the scene of the latest murder, investigating the surrounding area to ascertain the true threat. He discovered traces of one, perhaps two, werewolves hunting in the area. Judging by what was left of the tracks, they waited in the forest for their victims to leave the confines of the town before striking their foes. During his investigation, William did notice a small, cloaked figure running into the nearby woods with a basket; he made a mental note that on his return he would reprimand Victoria for letting her familiar run lose.
William was now left with a choice, fight the two werewolves alone or continue with his current objective and send for help. The vampire could be negotiated with and was not likely to be an immediate threat, whereas the werewolves were considerably more dangerous than Victoria. The pair likely had a larger (combined) kill count and would be more hostile than the seemingly well-meaning Victoria. This comparison cemented William’s assessment that the werewolves were a greater threat which would need to be dealt with as quickly as possible.