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Lavinia's Great Hunt: Vampiric Demon System
Chapter Seven: The Lord Crimson

Chapter Seven: The Lord Crimson

Lavinia stirs, a growing cramp in her legs and an unnatural stretch against her back forces her awake. A dark red sky and thundering clouds greet her through the rusted metal bars her legs dangle out of. Raising her head from a hard surface it rests on, Lavinia sits up, wrapping her singular arm through the bars she has a look about herself.

A cold wind billows through her mane, sending shivers through her missing left arm as the stump coasts through the bars. Pulling a strand out of her face, Lavinia overlooks Corym, its sturdy stone walls form a path wide enough for battlements as well as a patrolling company of goblins and demons— mostly goblins.

Beyond the walls the swamp curls around the city, forming an irregular circle of murky wetlands with only the moat separating concrete from the wild spawning vines. Dark waterways dig underneath the walls and spread, multiplying and forking like a vein journeying to every other tower in sight— hers included.

The bars she clings onto encircle her in a space barely wide enough for two short paces. The only exit or entrance happens to be the hard surface she was laying against a moment ago— a plain metal sheet tall and wide as her vertical prison with a little notch down the middle.

To her right a second tower stands overlooking the city. An arrangement of metal shacks and smaller brick-laid structures gather at its feet. To her left Lavinia finds the city empty, part of its wall broken in and a congregation of demons and goblins working to fix it. Beyond it, she gasps as her eyes land on the source of all that thumping— rather than a giant rock, it’s an equally giant demon.

{T-3/L-7— Stelc}

The Stelc behemoth stands on four gnarly legs above the forest, each one as large and long as the Corym’s battlements. Its scarred, injured body suffers colossal stone growths. Crusting all over its sides, the growths shift and tumble from it with each rumbling stomp. Atop it’s back the Stelc hauls demons, goblins and a contraption siphoning Essence more potent than any Lavinia’s encountered through blood-etched runes in what little exposed flesh it has.

Lavinia watches the Stelc rumble round the city and out of sight before shaking her head in amazement, recalling when she hoped to put an end to the thumping so could sleep undisturbed— not a chance of that now.

Especially not as a prisoner.

Pulling up to her feet, Lavinia stands in her latest prison. Embedded to the side of one of Corym’s bastion towers and hoisted several feet in the air there’s little chance for her to escape even if she wanted to. Taking two steps forward and two steps back, Lavinia exhausts the space in the elevated cage as she checks herself; they’d left her with the shawl and belt but nothing else, not her arm, the GroveStaff nor the smog dagger and certainly not the little pouch of Essence tokens she seized from Seraph.

Fingering her Soul Crystal— embedded in her notch above her collar in the absence of her left hand— she pulls up her Identity Sheet for a look.

Name: Lavinia

Race: Demon

Class: Vampiric

Age: Immortal – 69days.

Crystal Essence: [Pink]- Lvl.8— 33.41ESQ

[Available Essence Points— 0]

Faith:30

Agility: 25

Intelligence:14

Perk: {Reais Smite}, {Blood Rush}, {Wave Shot}, {Crimson Blink}, {Inspect}

Soul Bond: Curse Marked; Master Henry Vanavil

Some time had passed since she fought the Trirax, a few days and nothing more, but within those days her Crystal Essence and total ESQ had reduced noticeably. Lavinia’s brow wrinkles at the decrease but it’s not unexpected— a similar thing happened when she lost her foot to scavenging, bald demon birds in her early days as a waddling demon. This time she’s lost her entire arm and it still hadn’t regenerated, in fact, the wound has merely sealed shut with little growth to the stump.

Her Soul Bond with Henry hasn’t brought anything new or different either, but continues to hang the threat of his return over head, urging Lavinia to grow past herself. Pacing, she examines the bars and edges of her prison, it wouldn’t take much to rip the bars apart— even with her single arm— the issue is what happens after. There isn’t anywhere but down to go and she’s hesitant about that direction, leaping down from this distance it’s unlikely she’ll regenerate her knees and legs fast enough to fight her way out of the city.

Then again, escape isn’t an option. She came here for a reason, the Essence tokens hold power that could be hers without a vicious hunt, moreover, the GroveStaff is with the Trirax now and there’s no leaving without it.

Decided, Lavinia sits cross-legged in the cage and faces the slit on the metal sheet linking the cage to the tower. A sliver of air billows through when she presses close to it and looking through she glimpses an odd space full of items she can’t see in full.

Taking a deep breath, she screams right into it, “Aahh!!”

And again, “Aaah!!”

And once more, “OOuaahhhahha!!”

It becomes more fun than practical after the third time so she continues, enjoying the sound of her voice singing nonsense at the height of the city. For some rhythm she bangs her arm against the metal as she sings, “Laaaa raa la la! Uuwaa eee la eee!”

“Hey! Hey! Enough of that racket!” a voice, preceded by angry banging on the metal sheet yells.

Hiding her pleased grin, Lavinia pulls closer to look through the thin slit, “Let me out, Seraph.”

“Oh, we will.” Another voice says, one she finds rather familiar. “You remember me don’t you? I was very diplomatic when we met. I’ve learned my lesson since, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Prime has a plan for you.”

“You don’t need to tell her that, Seraph!” the other voice yells before letting out a deep sigh, “You, sit there, shut up and wait for your turn.”

***

“It’s said that demons of every kind even you and I, are all hewn from a singular Devil. Reais. Our entire realm is he, our existence is he, we cannibalise one another in vain efforts for strength, cunning…for Reais to return. At least, that’s what the Demon Lords say.”

{T-2/L-10— Trirax}

Hovering outside her prison Seraph’s master Trirax dictates down to Lavinia. His silk like robes billow against the wind, parting away its high collar enough for a glimpse at the Essence rich Soul Crystal embedded below his wiry neck.

Her jailers have left her up here for days on end. Lavinia has seen the thumping Stelc complete its route deep into the forest and back enough times to be bored of it. Her arm has returned in half, regenerating short of her elbow. Lavinia figures a proper meal would encourage its regrowth but starvation is all the company she’s had since singing for Seraph. And now, their master presents himself, gliding through the air with the aid of a power akin to Lucy’s yet not as she notes the demonic flare of Essence about him.

He wags a bony finger and shuts all three of his eyes as he tuts, “It’s all well and good to pursue becoming Reais but such a massive conquest would potentially mean the cannibalisation of our entire species. Don’t you think that’s quite selfish?”

The largest and topmost of his eyes peels open, fixing an expectant look on Lavinia. She doesn’t say a word and watches the demon from within with a blank stare, almost looking past him.

His black lips curl into a frown and he fishes out the small token pouch from his baggy sleeves. Twirling a radiant token between his fingers he sneers as Lavinia’s attention is bought, her eyes following each flip intently. In a flash the token vanishes into his fist and Lavinia growls, eyes darting to meet his for the first time. This Trirax is far refined than Seraph and the others she’s met— his head for one still hold its prism shape but gone are the sharp edges. His lips are pitch black, thin and out of place sharing his flat face with three eyes, another exception over the other Trirax.

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“I am telling you this because the demons of Corym and I prefer to uphold civilised manners. After what you’ve done with my goblins and to Neibor even, I should have you melted and harvest your meagre Crystal for my benefit, like the Demon Lords would.”

Lavinia blinks and in a measured tone says, “But you won’t.”

The Trirax recoils, inhaling deeply he responds in an equally measured tone, “No, I won’t. You are only a curious Pink, aren’t you? Not to mention a Vampiric, no, I will not dispose of you. Confused as you are you knew enough to come to Corym, so instead I will enlighten you.”

Of course, if they’d meant to kill her then Seraph would be here instead of their master. Despite not fearing for her life, Lavinia holds a level of caution for the flying Trirax— it’s ability to soar and hover through air is the first of such she’s seen. If it were to come to a fight, even at her full strength Lavinia bears little faith in her chances of survival.

“I am not confused.” She says, clambering onto her feet to grasp the bars. Standing as close as she can to the Trirax she corrects, “I am hungry.”

A magnanimous smile smears his lips across his face, “Of course, you must be. What is your name?”

Lavinia narrows her eyes at the unexpected question, Seraph had asked it too and she had refrained from divulging. For whatever reason, the thought of someone else using the name irks her yet at the same time she understands that a name is to used, said and called.

“I am Lavinia.”

“Hm, Lavinia, an interesting choice, did you make it?” Lavinia shakes her head and the Trirax shrugs, “Oh well, many demons attain names before the Crimson Tier from humans or…other forces. I’ve even heard of some born with their names, either way, I am Ulx, Lord Crimson and Prime of the Trirax.”

He sets an arm out and beckons Lavinia, “Come, I will feed you.”

Holding his stare Lavinia hesitates as he nods, urging her to take his hand. Her stomach growls, reminding her of its deepening displeasure and with a low grunt she punches out two of the most rusted bars keeping her confined. A gust of wind whistles by as the bars summersault to the city below, clanging against the ground only several seconds after.

Seeing her gulp at the steep drop, Ulx lets out a heinous laugh, “Don’t worry, unless you bite me I promise not to drop you.”

Careful, Lavinia sets her arm out for his and in a heartbeat, he snatches her from the cage and they plummet. Lavinia suppresses a terrified scream and braces herself for a bone-shattering collision with the ground only for Ulx to halt their descent and zip above the clusters of mudbrick buildings and metal constructs.

The steady wind whooshes around them, ruffling her mane and sending a sweet, soothing breeze through the thick head of hair. Feeling brave, she sneaks a peek for a first-hand viewing of the Corym, the demon city— its buildings squeeze together in clusters around each of the two, no, three bastion towers within the city. Ulx glides Lavinia over and around the settlements that spiral around his own towering spire. Trirax below call out with jubilant greetings as he flies past with Lavinia clinging on dearly.

The settlements around his tower are full of demons of varying strengths and sizes. As Ulx slows down, Lavinia’s privy to the busy alleys and corner ways below, none of the demons devolve into infighting or rage fuelled cannibalism and instead the sounds of labour and animated conversations fill the air, creating an atmosphere of unusual harmony.

Beyond the Trirax themselves, a motley assortment of creatures populates the city. Goblins scuttle alongside other peculiar, feathered beings and as Ulx brings Lavinia to the ground she quickly finds herself surrounded as little Pink Crystal Trirax rush along with a growing crowd, all looking up at her and Ulx.

“It’s good to see you too!” She hears Ulx say, waving with a bright, three-eyed wide smile on his face. He hovers past Lavinia’s shoulder, beckoning her to follow.

Glad to be grounded, Lavinia follows and does her best to ignore a tiny Trirax trailing close behind with eager an eye trained on herself and Ulx. He glides through the air above their heads, stopping at a delicious smelling metal box. Inside a demon works away at a fire, toasting and searing meats of questionable sources. Too hungry to care, Lavinia walks up to the box, taking advantage of the Trirax distracted by Ulx’s presence.

Salivating, Lavinia clings onto the box’s short opening as the demon within cuts a slab of meat into long, thick slices with its claw. Covered in pitch black fur, the demon boasts a round body and Crystal much powerful than Lavinia’s.

{T-2/L-4— Neekow}

“Can I eat that?” Lavinia almost pleads.

The Neekow turns its attention on her, narrowing its slit green eyes and shaking its long whiskers it rumbles, “Two Auramotes.”

Perplexed, Lavinia turns to Ulx for help and with a waiting grin he picks out the token from before, “Here you go, Derna, a Vitacore for this one’s troubles.”

Derna snatches the token greedily, grinning at Lavinia he sets three slices on fire, watching them sear for a moment before staking them with a thin metal and handing it over to her, “Enjoy.”

Ulx hovers beside Lavinia, watching as she chows through two of the sticks at a time, “Now that you are fed are you ready to listen?”

***

Deran let them into his shop, still fingering the Vitacore token he grins widely as he gestures in, “Welcome to my Litter, Lord Crimson.”

Ulx hovers ahead of Lavinia into the shop, she licks the slick, seasoned juices off her fingers as she strolls in, scattering her sights everywhere something glitters. On the right a table pouring with blood, folded flesh and a bucket of stewing limbs snares Lavinia’s senses. More of these limbs hang over the table from hooks, something like skin draws across a lines of metal rods along the ceiling.

Deran sets himself behind the table where the face of his shop opens with the fiery grill, he tosses his tail in and it bursts with flames. Unhooking one of the strange limbs from above, his claws tear thin slices into the meat he then layers and stabs on a metal stick before placing above his tails fiery flame.

The preceding scent has Lavinia bouncing over to his side. Deran spares her a wide grin as he repeats the process three more times and sets over the grill, seizing tokens from demons outside the Litter.

“Lavinia.” She hears Ulx call and turns her attention to the left and wider part of the Litter. Ulx hovers among a cluster of shelves and piles of manhandled bags, he gestures her over and she groans, reluctant to leave Deran’s grilling side, “He’ll bring it to you, come.”

Convinced she maneuvers through the mess of trinkets. The walls on this side of the room are mounted with long spears, flails, maces and all sorts of weapons Lavinia idly Inspects. Shorter tables than the one covered in blood host an array of jars with funny coloured fluids, boxes of rings, earrings and necklaces— all of glittering materials— the shelves behind Ulx store scrolls and books coated in thick covering of dust. Lavinia happens upon an open ironwood chest holding even more books and scrolls among the wealth of fabric, silk and armour within.

“Lavinia.” Ulx calls for attention, the patience in his voice wearing away at each unanswered use of her name. Entrapped by the smooth, glittering blue of a particular scroll in the ironwood chest, Lavinia fetches it out and starts unfurling when Ulx snatches it out of her hands, “Enough, sit, listen and eat.”

Lavinia follows his gaze to Deran approaching with two more of his stick-meat and she sit gleeful.

Ulx produces the token pouch, eager to continue from where he left off, “Here’s an Auramote.” He says, pulling out a gleaming green token. He fetches out another token, this one pulsing with a fierce orange colour, “This is a Vitacore and this is an Elderspark.”

The last token swirls with a rainbow of colours, the power contained within it catches Lavinia’s torn attention. She narrows her eyes at it and asks, “Can I eat that?”

Ulx tuts and sets the tokens away in his baggy sleeve, “No, Lavinia, you wouldn’t even want to, it’s far too volatile for a Pink like yourself, but that doesn’t mean you can’t use these tokens. Here in Corym, they can buy you as many kebabs as you like and you wouldn’t have to kill another demon for it…at least not demons of Corym.”

On her last stick, Lavinia points at the scroll he snatched, “Can it buy that?”

Here Deran presents himself, voice bolstering across from the other side, “That would be four more Auramotes, Lord Crimson, added to the Vitacore from earlier, of course.”

He lugs himself over and Ulx hands him the scroll to inspect. Unfurled, the scrolls blue back end glitters with specks of gold that animate themselves— a tall figure, cloaked and clasping a staff repeats a slamming gesture. Deran hums contemplatively, tossing Lavinia a look over the scroll and stifling a grumble.

“Lord Crimson, upon inspection it’s worth much more than a couple extra Auramote, pardon my slip up.” He says with a sheepish grin.

Ulx shrugs, a thin smile forming on his lips, “Not my problem, she wants it not me.”

Narrowing her eyes at the them, Lavinia tosses the metal stick aside and folds her arms, “You have my tokens.”

His smile only grows as he wags a long finger down at her, “They were never yours, Seraph told me what happened out there. You must have thought that demon was a victim, no, he was a parasite sent to destabilize Corym. If you want tokens, Lavinia, you will either have to steal it like that demon did or work with me for it, there’s so much you’re missing out on here and right now Corym, no, the Trirax could use a demon with Vampiric potential.”

Deran mutters something about vampire overlords and excuses himself to tend to his grill and customers. Ulx doesn’t look away from Lavinia’s demanding glare, meeting it with his own as he says, “I don’t need to tell you how it’ll end for you if you choose to be a thief, even with your potential, so instead I’ll tell you what working with the Trirax would mean.”

Before he can say anything else Lavinia reminds him of her stolen meal, “Seraph, Neibor.”

Rolling all three of his eyes he sighs, “Frankly Neibor wouldn’t have been made Crimson if the situation wasn’t desperate. I’ll handle Seraph and Jonn, they’re furious you ate Neibor, yes, but they know better.”

That isn’t close to what she meant, her thoughts lingering on the Crystal and levels she lost when Seraph escaped her grasp. Safely assuming eating Seraph the next time she sees her won’t be tolerated, Lavinia decides to ask, “And Essence?”

At this Ulx grins and gestures, “Any demon beyond Corym is yours to hunt, but for the meantime you’ll stay here and recover, learn our ways, understand Ruishia and the complexity of our language.”

“GroveStaff.” Lavinia starts, “Where is it?”

Ulx’s smile drops at this and he folds his arm behind his back, “That…well, we’ve seized that. It’s a very powerful weapon Lavinia, beyond your scope of knowing.”

Stepping forward and balling her fists, “Bring it to me.”

“Not until you work.” Ulx says, his calm, accommodating tone vanishing at Lavinia’s unspoken challenge.

Before either one can say more the metal door scraps open for two barging Trirax. “Lord Crimson!”

Seraph.

Quickly spotting where she threw the metal sticks, Lavinia picks and brandishes the thin rods as a bare weapon. Seraph catches sight of her and the second Trirax peering from behind shudders seeing her— Lavinia recognizes him as the one that ran, the diplomatic Trirax that left Seraph behind.

“YOU!”

“Nooo!” Deran bellows out louder than ever, “Not in my Litter, Lord Crimson, please.”

Ulx nods and wordlessly hovers past Lavinia, Seraph and Jonn on his way out. Jonn is right on his trail but Seraph and Lavinia linger a bit longer glaring at one another before she gives in and follows her Lord Crimson.

The last in the shop Lavinia parse a look around once more as Ulx’s series of promises and demands ring in the back of her mind. Auramotes, Vitacores and Elderspark tokens, scrolls, weapons and armour of undiscovered power. Essence.

Whatever it is Ulx wants her to do for the tokens, Lavinia has already been at, the only difference now is…

“Hope to see you again, Lavinia, and without bared fangs.” Deran says as handles the grill and kebab slices, “Lord Crimson means well.”

Leaning by the rust metal doorway she mutters, “Maybe.”