Night fell and Ranloo stared at the ceiling for a while before sitting up. He felt sore and his entire body hurt. For a moment, he wondered if he was ill. But then he shook his head, he couldn't be, he was a vampire. Surely they didn't get sick? Slowly clambering out of bed and ambling over to the door, he listened for any sounds as usual. Hearing nothing, he went out and fed, feeling slightly better afterwards. If nothing else, the pain in his stomach was reduced.
Strangely weak and sweaty he started for the stairs. Sweaty? He stopped. He hadn't been that since becoming a vampire. Nothing seemed to make him tired apart from the sunrise and being too wounded. What was wrong with him now?
As he walked up the stairs he remembered the strange tingling from the throwing knives. Had they been poisoned, he wondered and fingered his side. His skin was sore to the touch. What would happen to him if that was the case? Shrugging, he continued up the stairs. There was nothing he could do about it, and he couldn't get help from anyone either. He'd just have to wait it out and hope it got better.
Ignoring Gesald who followed him as usual, he went up to see Sern for a while. Then he spent the rest of the night with Diquarl and Felisei. They went out into the foggy streets, breaking into houses, earning their right to remain in the guild.
Ranloo still wasn't too comfortable with it but had pretty much given up the idea of remaining lawful. It was simply not possible in his condition. Just like Sern had pointed out. Besides, his only friends now were all on the wrong side of the law, so he had very little hope of avoiding such things.
He was a great help through the night, being able to jump up to windows they couldn't reach, breaking open doors that were locked by pure force, and being uncannily silent when he wanted to. It took a toll on him, however. He got winded from simply running and jumping.
Diquarl noticed and studied him carefully for some time. After a couple of hours, he had to ask, ´What's wrong with you? You seem less... inhumanly strong tonight.`
Ranloo turned and looked at him, his face betraying nothing.
Diquarl took a cautios step back, his gaze wavering.
´I think I got poisoned,` Ranloo replied after a moment.
´What?` Felisei uttered in surprise. ´When did that happen?` She stared at him with wide eyes.
Ranloo smiled and shrugged as he looked through some cabinets. ´When I burned the house. I was hit by throwing knives, remember?` he said and looked at the woman.
She drew in a sharp breath and nodded.
´I think they were poisoned. I felt a bit... strange afterwards,` Ranloo admitted with a lopsided smile.
´A bit strange?` Felisei said and put her hands on her hips. ´That's gotta be the understatement of the year!`
He laughed. ´No, it was actually just weird.`
´What did it feel like?` Diquarl asked with interest.
Ranloo glanced a the small man with a knowing smile. ´It tingled strangely. I could feel it spreading. But it wasn't really hurting at the time.`
´Is it hurting now?` the chemist asked, studying the vampire closely in the dark room.
Ranloo picked up a small box from a drawer and turned it about before replying. ´Yes, a bit,` he admitted. ´I feel tired and hurting all over. Like a fever I guess.`
Diquarl kept his eyes on the vampire, forgetting to look for valuables. ´Anything else? Is it getting worse?`
Ranloo huffed as he opened the box. How weak did Diquarl think he was, he wondered, mildly irritated. ´No, it's getting better.` He studied the contents. ´Ooh, this looks nice,` he exclaimed as he saw the baubles inside. Removing a brooch with an inlaid gemstone, he inspected it as well as he could in the dim light.
´Lemme see,` Felisei said, snatched it from his hand, and held it up by a window. ´Yes, yes it's nice. Maybe even worth a dragon or two. But I can't tell exactly. I gotta check it out more carefully later.` She replaced the bauble in the box and took it from Ranloo.
He arched an eyebrow. ´You're welcome.`
´Oh, I'm sorry,` she laughed as she realized she'd taken the box from him. ´But I'll better keep it safe,` she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes and placed it in a bag she had over one shoulder. He shook his head and smiled to himself. It wasn't the first time she'd done that this night.
Voices and the clattering of a key in the lock alerted them to the returning owners. They froze and stared in the direction of the hall for a few seconds.
´Let's go. Go go go!` Felisei hissed and ushered them towards an open window.
Ranloo peeked out of the window and jumped quietly down to the ground. The window wasn't very high, allowing for an easy exit. Diquarl climbed out next, stumbled, and almost fell on his face. Ranloo grabbed him by his tunic and hoisted him upright again. Felisei stifled a laugh as she jumped out after him.
´Who's there?` a voice asked in the fog and they froze. ´Hello?` Footsteps approached.
´Go go go!` Felisei whispered and darted towards the fence around the house. Ranloo grinned and followed with the chemist close behind.
´Hey, you! Stop!` the voice shouted.
Rapid thuds erupted behind them and Ranloo glanced back over his shoulder. A middle-aged man in a fine coat ran towards them. Two younger men, equally nicely dressed but with drawn swords, followed him. Probably his sons, Ranloo thought, noting their similar looks.
They ran to the fence and Ranloo quickly helped Felisei and Diquarl over. As the chemist got over the top, the men were almost upon Ranloo and he had to flee. He followed the fence, the young men close behind, shouting and threatening.
His friends called for him to hurry. Aching with the dull pain of the poison, he jumped and grabbed the fence moments later. He swung himself over the spikes on the top with more effort than normal. Luckily, the fence wasn't that high and he cleared it easily despite his weakened state. One of the men swung his sword at him. Instinctively pulling his hands away, he half-fell down on the other side. He grinned at their angry faces as he landed in the street and began to run away. A bell rang out behind them.
´Come on, hurry!` Felisei called and beckoned for him to follow.
They sprinted down the street and soon left the angry men behind, calling and cursing in the fog. Laughing, the trio fled with their haul. But soon Ranloo, with his keen hearing, caught a new sound. Many feet approaching ahead. He couldn't yet see anyone yet, but they'd soon become wedged between the approaching people and the angry owners of the house. Fear of meeting city guards, or worse, made him hesitate. He grabbed Felisei and stopped.
´What're you doin'?` she snapped in annoyance and looked up. Meeting his intense expression, she quieted and listened beside him. Her fast breathing and rapid pulse made it hard for Ranloo to look away. As Diquarl caught up with them, Ranloo motioned for quiet. The fog was heavy, but the street wasn't wide enough to allow anyone to pass by unnoticed. It would be safer to go back the other way, he thought, since only two were behind them. Judging by the sound, at least four people approached ahead. Could be a guard patrol. He turned around and signaled for them to follow.
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´Run fast!` he said and leapt down the street.
Soon, two shadowy figures approached ahead. The two young men were not prepared for Ranloo to come running back at them and skidded to a halt. As Ranloo dashed past, he reached out and gave the closest man a strong shove. He stumbled to the side and crashed into his brother. As they shouted and cursed after Ranloo, trying getting their bearings, Felisei and Diquarl ran past the confused brothers, one on each side. The men spun around to get them but Diquarl threw something that shattered on the chest of one of them. He staggered back with a strangled sound, frantically brushing at himself with his hands. It distracted both of them enough that the thieves could get away.
Once they were certain they were no longer followed, they slowed down to rest in a small square with a fountain in its centre. The calming hiss of running water masked any other sounds and the fog obscured everything, giving it a mystical feel. Some lanterns gleamed like ghostly will-o'-the-wisps in the distance. The friends rested and smiled at each other. Felisei and Diquarl were winded and had to catch their breaths before they could go on. Ranloo wasn't tired from running but still felt strained. He looked around, enjoying the scenery. Something about the fog felt right to him. The humid air against his face, soft and cooling, the low visibility giving a sense of security, and the heightened smells making tracking easier. It was, he realized, perfect weather for vampires.
´What did you throw at him?` Felisei asked.
Diquarl shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. ´Just a very bad smelling liquid.`
Felisei laughed and brushed back her hair from her face. ´I thought it might've been poison again,` she half-whispered, eyes wide in fake horror.
´I don't usually do that, you know,` he said, slightly affronted. ´I only did that back then because it was an emergency.`
She nodded and turned to Ranloo. ´Why did we suddenly turn back?` she asked. ´We were gettin' away.`
Ranloo smiled slightly and studied his friends before replying. ´I heard more people ahead of us. It could have been city guards. I didn't want us to get into trouble,` he explained. ´So I thought that running back and facing only two enemies, rather than getting between six or more of them was a good idea.` The thieves agreed.
´Well, that was fun,` Felisei laughed. ´And we got some good stuff with us.`
Diquarl looked up at the dark clouds and took a deep breath. ´I'm all for going back home now. I'm tired of all this sneaking and running, and I have other things I'd like to do.`
´Sure, works for me. We've had a good night so far. Better not push our luck I suppose.` She hefted the bag onto her shoulder. ´Comin', Ranloo?` she asked when he didn't move as they started walking.
´I remembered a thing I need to check.` He glanced towards the street behind him. ´I'll meet you back at the guild later.`
Diquarl and Felisei gave him concerned looks. ´You shouldn't go alone,` Felisei said and took a step back towards him.
He smiled. ´Don't worry, I won't get into trouble this time. I promise.`
She raised an eyebrow, not convinced.
´I'm only going to get Listarl's sword. I promised to bring it back, remember?`
She laughed out loud. ´You might recall the house was burned down by someone.` She eyed him pointedly.
He grinned at the memory, his amber eyes alight with mirth. Just thinking of the bright flickering flames licking the eaves and consuming the roof of the house excited him.
´I'll be careful,` he said with a wave of his hand. Then he ran off into the mist. He enjoyed running through the foggy, magical streets. He felt at home, a swift, dark shadow in the night, passing along silently in the gloom. The only thing dampening his spirit was the dull pain inside, the lingering, always present hunger, and the memory of his words.
He brushed it off and focused on where he was going. He ran fast, if not as fast as usual. Sometimes he passed by people. Most of them ignored him, but some stopped and stared or gasped at his sudden appearance out of the fog. After some time he finally got to the street where the Stonefists' guild had been.
He slowed down as he approached, amazed at the damage such a small log of fire could cause. The house was ruined, a burned, blackened thing with gaping holes for windows and without a roof. But what surprised Ranloo the most was the neighbouring buildings. So much damage, he thought. Their walls were blackened, though not completely ruined. The fire had damaged everything around it, even the trees' branches were burned, their leaves shriveled. The lingering smell of woodsmoke lay heavy in the air. He looked around in amazement, noting the silence and lack of lights. Assured he was alone, he carefully entered the big house.
Ranloo studied the wooden beams holding up the second floor before approaching the stairs. They seemed sound enough to hold his weight, but he didn't trust the stairs and carefully tested each step before putting his weight on them. Ash few up at every step so he had to hold his breath to keep it out of his lungs. The roof had caved in and obstructed his path. Fragments of furniture, clothes, and tools lay scattered on the floor and bunched in piles where cabinets had burned or shelfs had fallen. Painstakingly making his way through the debris, he found the place where the fire had started. Where he had started it, he thought with some detachment. It was strange to see all this damage and know it was he who had caused it. Memories of being scolded for playing with fire as a young boy surfaced for a few seconds. He had always liked fire, always been fascinated by it. But it had always been forbidden.
He examined the room carefully, but it was hard to find anything useful. Everything was fire damaged, black, and covered in grey soot. Maybe someone had moved the weapons? Taken them on the way out perhaps? Then he spotted something on the floor, sticking out under a pile of blackened roof tiles. A glint of reflected light.
He moved the tiles, revealing the sword underneath. Damaged by the inferno, most of the leather on the handle and scabbard were ruined. The leather could be replaced though, he hoped. The metal handle, the blade itself, and the crossguard still looked fine, if blackened by the fire and ashes. Smiling, he picked it up and slowly ventured back out again. Once outside, he took a deep breath to clear his lungs and nose of the smoky smell and ash. He tried unsuccessfully to brush some of the soot off his clothes but soon gave up. At least he was dressed in black, he thought with some relief.
Ranloo wandered back towards the guild, enjoying the murky night. The wind moved the fog in swirls and it gathered thickly in places, and thinned out in others. Close to Riverside, the marching of feet caught his attention. A guard patrol? He swerved around to go in another direction. He didn't want any more trouble.
As he turned, however, the rythmic stamping of metalclad feet echoed down the street. Paladins? The thought made his stomach ache. For a moment he stood frozen to the ground, unable to move. Where could he go? Eyes darting around, he looked for an escape. There was none. Dismayed he watched the narrow street stretch ahead and the high, smooth walls of the houses walling him in. Sidestepping out of the street, he pressed himself against the wooden wall of a house. Panting in fear, his canines throbbed and extended. Reminded of his condition, he knew without a doubt that if they found him here, he'd die. And how could they miss him? Even in the fog, the street was too narrow. The sounds came closer and closer, their silhouettes appearing through the fog.
Closing his eyes, Ranloo wished hard he could disappear, become invisible like a ghost. The stomping closed in and he opened his eyes again. To his dismay, the city guards walked towards him from the right, and two Eldon paladins from the left. Their shiny armour and sun-medallions made him want to run and hide. He shivered from the oppressing feeling and his heart beat heavily against his ribs. He wanted to disappear, vanish, and not be seen. He wished he could use magic and cast some invisibility spell. They would soon get close enough to see him. Trembling, Ranloo prepared to run, pressed against the wall.
The guards called out, raised their hands. Ranloo twitched, almost bolted. The paladin's greeted them, only a few feet away. He didn't dare breathe or move as he sat, crouched in terror, staring at the paladins. Their horrible power and the glare of their symbols washed over him. They didn't take note of him, however, but spoke briefly with the guards and continued on their way. One of them swept his eyes over Ranloo. He couldn't possibly have missed him, he thought and waited for the inevitable shout of alarm with apprehension.
It never came. Instead, the paladin left with his companions. The two groups moved away, and soon he was left all alone in the empty street. He stayed put for some time, carefully beginning to breathe again. Then he slowly stood on shaking legs, staring up and down the street. What was going on? How could they have missed him? It was impossible, he thought and looked down at himself.
He stared in shock for several minutes.
He wasn't invisible but seemed thin, like a shadow or a thicker gathering of fog. His form blurred, grey and almost smoky. He lifted a hand and studied it in fascination, turned it this way and that. What had happened? Had he died without noticing it? Was he a ghost? Bewildered, he wished he could pray to his goddess for guidance. But he was afraid and it hurt deeply to think about it.
He focused on his smokey shape again. He even felt thin, he realized. If he was dead, how had it happened? He felt himself with his hands. Solid. Relief flooded him as he patted his belly and chest and felt his arms and face with his hands. But how had this happened? And how was he going to stop it? If it was something he had done, he needed to stop doing it. He headed down the street, peeked around the corner the paladins had vanished around, and listened. They had gone. He turned his steps towards the guild. Exhaustion descended on him like a heavy blanket. He needed sleep, and he had to get back before the sun rose.