“For the last time, I am not going to drink your blood.” I complained, my comrades were being insufferable.

The guard rotations had brought back Edmund and Sigfried. My illustrious master and self-appointed vampire father had pretty much disowned me. Now I was set aside until I was needed.

“Yes but what if the thirst takes you over?” Sig mocked, raising his hands in the air and fluttering his fingers. “The thirst for young maiden necks might be to strong.” He continued mocking me, Sig posing as a vampire and the beefy Edmund gasping like a frightened maiden.

It was very weird to see a scrawny-looking wizard pretending to be a vicious vampiric predator and a giant barbarian, pretending to be a fair maiden. I had odd friends, I knew that very well.

“Oh vampire please don’t violate me.” Edmund pleaded, in his best attempt at a high-pitched female voice. With his deep baritone, he didn’t do very well.

“You think I would go near your neck Edmund? With how rare you bathe.” I joked.

“Hey that’s not fair, I bathe, sometimes.”

“Yeah like once a quarter month.” Sig interjected.

Edmund looked between us before gesturing in mock pain. “You know our line of work, we rarely get the time in between all the killing.” The giant harrumphed, annoyed.

“Don’t call our profession, killing. It makes us sound like serial killers.” Sig said.

Edmund turned to his companion, aghast. “Then what would you call our profession? I mean we kill people for money.” He stated matter-of-factly as if it were gospel.

“But that just makes us sound like common brigands.”

“Well isn’t that just what we are?” I said, rather sourly.

It was something I had struggled with for a while now. Ever since we came to Narfalon from Eastmarch. Leaving the earldom is a memory I would prefer not to revisit.

“We are sellswords, professional mercenaries for the discerning warlord or baron.” Sig explained in that salesman's way of his. He was really good at that.

“Doesn’t change the fact we still kill people for money. Whether it be for a baron or an earl.” He chuckled maliciously, I sometimes forget what a savage he could be.

“Don’t speak of the earl, I want to forget that man.” I cursed him, memories still fresh in my mind.

“What is your problem Erik, getting a bit squeamish over ancient history?”

“It is not so ancient and I think I have a right for a little squeamishness. He did order us to butcher a village or two.” I replied, disgusted.

“Oh come on, half those villages were filled with rebel scum. Besides, we do what are paid to do. Killers and all that.” He countered.

“It was the other half that concerned me Edmund. There is a line and I was glad the captain did not order us to cross it.”

“Yeah that captain, quite a bleeding heart for a sell sword.” Edmund chuckled.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It will get us killed one day, except for those who can’t die of course.” He glared at me, was that envy, I had not seen such an expression from him. It vanished just as swiftly as it appeared.

“Shut up the both of you. We are killers for hire, but we have standards like any self respecting professional.” Sigfried declared, his eyes glued to his bowl of water.

I raised an eyebrow, he had a point there, so me and Edmund decided to agree to disagree. With that settled, I looked over his shoulder, curious what the sorcerer was up to.

Within the bowl wasn’t clear water, but an image of a castle from above. He was spying on Wildhold, quite bold of little Sig.

“Why are you snooping around a castle were about to siege? You know Drelem already has his own sorcerers scouting the place.” I wondered, but it was probably just curiosity. Sig had always been a bit of a voyeur.

“There is no harm in a little scouting?” The youngest member of our crew said.

I shrugged and watched, Edmund had no interest, he went back to cleaning his many axes. He really had a lot of them and since he used them regularly. Let's just say they got dirty since I could smell the dried blood.

I tried to put the thought of blood out of my mind. I had fed recently and that should keep me well for a few days. I only hope my victim got medical care from Wildhold. A thought of the upcoming siege plagued my thoughts. The idea of that father and daughter duo being slaughtered as the men ravaged the castle.

I could only hope they could escape before anything horrible happened or any more does. I needed to banish those thoughts and so I dedicated myself to this new distraction.

Sigfried panned over the battlements, the wall was impressive. Tall, sturdy stone with murder holes evenly spaced to rain death upon the poor first wave.

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Looking closely, I noticed a line of very still figures, I had initially thought they were dedicated sentries. But upon a closer look, they were zombies, decked out in full armour and stood like unmoving guardians.

“We heard they had a necromancer of their own, this just confirms they have a competent one.” Sig explained while gesturing to pan the viewpoint.

Right when he was about to observe the inner courtyard, the image swirled and the castle vanished. What replaced it was the face of a bored young man with grey eyes, jet-black hair and a shit-eating grin.

“Observe this asshole.” The image said as he made a rude gesture with his middle finger before transitioning to a wave.

The image changed back to a simple pool of water and Sig frowned for a moment. Looking back at me he laughed. I was puzzled, I had not seen him laugh like this before. It seemed rather genuine, in stark contrast to his general sarcastic demeanour.

“That was a good one, I’ll give him that.” Sig said, oddly happy about being thwarted.

“What was that?” I asked.

“That was a fellow sorcerer, intercepting my scrying spell. Decent work I may say so. He will be quite the opponent.” I found it odd that he would be so gleeful about this, but Sig did have a competitive streak.

“Knock knock.” A familiar voice said from outside the tent.

All three of us glanced over, noting the light of one of the moons cascading through the tent opening. I really had to get used to my switched-up sleeping pattern. But I was always a night person, so no real change, except for the burning in fierdlight. The captain entered the tent and three of us quickly stood to attention.

“At ease.” He commanded.

Our captain entered, a sour look on his face. He was outfitted in full plate armour, odd considering we weren’t going into battle yet.

“Our illustrious lord commander Drelem, has given orders to head out and begin the siege.” He explained unhappily.

“I thought we were waiting on reinforcements.” Sigfried asked.

“Apparently Lord Drelem thinks we should attack as soon as possible. I advised against it, but I was overruled. So get your gear, we are heading out.”

The three of us sighed, knowing this was a bad idea. The captain nodded and proceeded to leave. We all stood and saluted as he exited through the tent flap.

“You are going to need a coffin, vampire boy.” Edmund added, cheekily.

I glared at him, but he was right and so a dreaded meeting was on the horizon. “Better then your bedrolls.” I said sarcastically as I exited the tent.

The two followed behind, not sure why. But I could guess they knew where I was going. The dreaded tent of darkness, the realm of my nightly brothers and sisters. Passing by a few members of the band, we waved greetings. Eventually, we arrived at the tent and were promptly stopped by some human toady.

“No brigands.” The burly guard commanded, in a voice that brooked no argument.

I recognised the man, some former farm hand taken as a thrall. He was basically a slave who loved being a slave. All for the possibility of one day being anointed in blood and ascending to immortality. His loyalty to Drelem and his children was pathological.

I flashed my fangs and growled at the sycophant, he acted as expected. Cowered like the pathetic wretch he was. “Please forgive me dark one.” He pleaded, calling me by that precocious title, my siblings demanded to be called.

He stepped aside bowing and we entered without a fuss. What we came upon was a tent full of vampires and bleeding servants. By the goddess, they were a messy bunch. To the right was a vampire, I forget his name, chowing down on some peasant girl. Drinking right from her neck as the rest of our siblings fussed over maps.

“Have some self respect, drink from a goblet or something.” I chastised, somewhat hypocritically, since I lost control that one time.

The pathetic excuse of a vampire pulled away from the weeping girl's neck and glared at me. “I am not taking advice from a child.” He spat, looking down on me because of the simple fact I was turned after him.

He wholly ignored that I was actually older than him by a few human years. “Girl beat it.” I gestured for her to leave, flinging a silver over. Surprisingly she caught it and tried to vacate, but the hungry boy wouldn’t let her.

“I am not finished.” He glared at me, holding the girl's wrist far too tightly.

“You are now, let go of the girl,” I commanded, probably overstepping my authority.

The little vampire seethed, but eventually let her go. Not to comply, but so he could rise and get in my face. The girl fled with the silver, covering her neck and torn clothes.

“Make sure to visit the thaumaturge for healing,” I told her, and she nodded as she left.

“Who are you to command me.” The blood-soaked vampire arrived, fangs bared, and he spat those words like they were poison.

Now in my face, I got a better look at him. He was typical of the vampires Drelem chose, a pretty boy fop with blonde hair, and blue eyes, dressed in the finery nobles tended to wear. I found that really stupid since they were messy eaters. This specimen was no exception, I mean why bother wearing nice clothes if they ended up covered in blood by lunch?

I smiled, showing fangs and meeting his glare with a cheeky grin. He did not like that, he probably wanted me to stand down like the lesser vampire he thinks I am.

“Just try it leech, I haven’t killed a vampire before and my axe loves meeting new people.” Edmund stepped to my side with a wild grin.

I could see the vampire fop struggling to maintain his dignity. But when a giant barbarian with an axe and a penchant for decapitating people for fun gets in your face, most stand down. Yes, our dear Ed had a reputation.

“Sven, stop fang measuring and come over here.” A woman’s voice commanded.

And like the toady outside, little Sven hopped to her command. I glanced to the side, noting the figures surrounding the map. I couldn’t recall who the vampires were, but the woman I recognised.

Long blonde hair tied up in a braid, cold blue eyes, pale milky white skin with symmetrical features. She was very pretty, but her personality made most men foolish enough to hit on her, regret it. She was Drelem’s prized possession, his little dhampir daughter. Victoria, a child he sired on some unfortunate woman.

“Erik, what are you doing here?” Vicki demanded she hated that nickname, but that’s who she was in my head.

“I heard we are moving out ahead of schedule. Any particular reason?” I inquired as I walked over to the map.

It was a large and well-drawn map of the barony, Wildhold stood out as the little castle we were about to siege. It was tucked away just south of Nar Woodar.

“We have heard from our man on the inside that the traitor plans to acquire a weapon against us.” Viki explained, not taking her eyes off the map.

“What kind of weapon?” I asked.

“The demonic kind, she was seen visiting her conjury chamber many times. We suspect she plans to conjure a powerful demon.” Her words received nods from her sycophants.

I was confused, I mean we all knew the traitor, as she was called, was a conjuror of some skill. But what could a simple demon do to change the course of battle?

“I hardly think summoning a few second orders would do anything. Maybe a third order but we could handle that.” One of her vampires commented. I forget the man's name, it starts with an L I think.

“Right you are Luther, such lower orders could not. But a greater demon, a fourth order could tip the scales.” The moment she said that the room went silent.

The idea was fanciful and terrifying. Such a horror had not been visited upon Astlan in ages. If the traitor noble could conjure such a demon, then Goddess help us. But alas, we were far too damned for her to care.