Iceacar was not wearing his fine courtly attire or any markings that befitted his position within Sanguinium. Instead, the white-haired elf wore a simple tunic overtop a set of moderately fine leather armor, which had a few steel pieces hidden underneath the leather to protect his chest and other vulnerable parts of his body. Even the bloodstone--the stone that allowed vampires to ignore the effects of sunlight was hidden underneath rather than proudly displayed as it would be within Sanguinium. In the Vampiric Kingdom, bloodstones were a simple power and authority that only truly wealthy vampires could afford. That little gem would instantly give him away as a vampire to any learned individual. The most valuable possession he had, at least visually, was the horse he was riding on, a black stallion.
This was why Iceacar hated undercover missions--they did not allow him to show his pride as a vampire but instead forced him to slink and hide his true nature. One day he hoped that he would not be required to perform any such missions--but for now, he’d perform them to the best of his abilities.
Iceacar had just arrived in the city of Eastmoor after traveling through the Kingdom of Draconia. While it was a detour to travel through the land of dragons, it was far safer than crossing the border directly into the Empire from Sanguinium. The land there was watched heavily and rife with vampire hunters, knights, and anyone else who wished to stop hopeful vampires’ passage to reach a ground where they could be at peace.
There was nothing special about Eastmoor; it was not a major city but rather a minor one that was a stopping point for caravans and traders heading across the continent by foot. It was located on an open plain--one that was not suited for farming, so the city's entire existence revolved around trading caravans that passed through. There wasn’t even a wall surrounding the town; however, the dragons to the east and the savage lands to the south were little chance of an actual invasion attacking this. As such, the city was filled with taverns, brothels, gambling dens, and whatever else was needed to cater to the traveling caravans that passed through the town--and was one of the best and easily reachable places to gather information. People were always more talk-a-tiv when there was a drink in their hands.
The first thing Iceacar did after making his way into the city found a tavern with a stable for his horse and decided on the Fickle Hare. It was a relatively simple inn. The first floor was a bar and eatery, tables dotting the area with individuals drinking and making merry. The second and third floors held rooms of varying quality. As Iceacar made his way inside, he carefully surveyed the surroundings, his red eyes glancing between the various ingoers, before making his way towards the counter.
Standing at the counter was a rough-looking man, a few scars dotting his face. “Need somethin?” he asked, as he grasped a rag and began to dry a mug he had been cleaning a few moments before.
“Yes--A room for the night, a mug of ale as well something to eat. I also need some hay for my horse., I already have him in your stable with one of the stable boys.”
“That’ll be six coppers for the room, another six for the meal, and three more for the hay for the horse.” The barkeeper replied as he set the glass he had been cleaning underneath a keg with a spout. Then he proceeded to fill using the tap that had been dug into the barrel. Once the mug had been filled, he set it in front of Icecear. “As for a meal, we have a venison and vegetable stew..”
While the barkeep went about getting the drink, Icecear opened his coin pouch, retrieved fifteen copper coins, and set them at the table. Once that was done, Iceacar reached forward and grasped the mug, and brought it to his lips, taking a small sip of the lukewarm liquid. Icecear grimaced. He hated drinking warm things.
With a sigh, he raised and waved his hand--using his magic to chill his drink in a matter of moments. Once the ale was cooled, he brought it to his lips and took another sip.
The barkeep had moved off to fetch the bowl of stew--as well as the room key, both of which he set on the table in front of Icecear when he returned.
“So, tell me, stranger, what brings an ice elf such as yourself down these parts? Elves are rare enough in these lands, most preferring to stay in Avora, but ice elves? Your lot are more isolationist than the dragons. Though, I reckon that’s more because you live in the far north.”
Iceacar set down his mug of chilled ale before taking and eating a spoonful of the stew. It was fair enough quality, a bit better than what he’d expected out here.
“You sound like you’ve met some ice elves before. As for why I’m here, I’m traveling. There are only so much rolling ice plains and glaciers can be before it becomes boring. So I’ve decided to travel, and see the world. However, it’s been far more dangerous than I initially thought. I somewhat understand why my homeland tends to keep to themselves, except when trade is involved.”
“You’re right. I met a few ice elves when I was on the eastern continent doing some work. I can say that that steel ice you guys create up north is one of the most dangerous things I’ve ever seen. Not does it cut like metal. It can cause frostbite after only a few moments of contact.”
“Yes, the ice steel goods are trendy, though, for the most part, it’s mainly sold to nobles who want a glass that’ll keep their drinks cold.”
“I think most of them don't even realize how strong that stuff is. Though to be fair, it’s dangerous for anyone but an ice elf to wield since you guys don’t freeze so easily.”
“Hah, that’s very true. However, we need to make more effort not to overheat down south since we’re used to frigid temperatures up north. Though I’ve managed so far, as long as I pace myself, I’m fine.”
“So, you said, you’ve been traveling? Where have you been?”
“Well, I’ve been to the eastern continent, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place more war-ravaged than that place. Even though the various elven kingdoms have forged an uneasy peace with the human lands, it was far too dangerous for my likings, so I returned to this one, but from what I’ve heard, this place might soon devolve into war as well.”
“I think you’re right. There have been some dark tidings. More bandits are roving the roads attacking travelers, persecuting people who might have aided a vampire, and talking of war with Sanguinium. I fear you’re right--I hope the peace will be maintained. I’ve done too much fighting as is in my life.” he said with a small sigh.
“I have heard of these bandits, though I’ve yet to encounter any myself. Can you tell me more of what you’ve heard? I’d like to avoid them when I can.”
“Sure. From what I’ve heard from travelers, they seem to be taking prisoners when they can. I don’t know why. Maybe they’re kidnapping people to sell them off as slaves? I know a few kingdoms on the eastern continent practice it, as well as your people up north. As for where they are, I’ve heard that they’re a couple of brigands on the roads between Winterwood and Ghostacre. I know that a couple of caravans too, though they seem to avoid them for the most part.”
Iceacar nodded as he leaned back in his seat. “That’s fairly dangerous. What happened to the survivors? Did they at least manage to get support from the local lord?”
A scoff escaped the bartender’s lips. “Bah, he’ll only care if it directly affects him. Which it doesn’t, so we’re left on our own. If you end up heading that way to be careful, single individuals such as yourself tend to be ripe targets for their activities.”
“I understand. I’ll make sure to be careful. I was planning on heading that way, though maybe I’ll see if I can find a safer route or join up with a caravan or something. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“Aye, would probably be safer that way.”
With the conversation finished, Iceacar went and finished his meal and drained his ale before heading to his room. The room was simple. There was a small bed, with a blanket as well as a pillow laid on top. A small chest to keep one's goods safe--though if someone could break into the room, the trunk wouldn’t stop them. There was also a window that overlooked the street below, which Icecear promptly shut.
Once the blinds were shut, Iceacar reached into his bag and pulled out a red bottle, and popped it open before downing the thing. They were bottles of blood, a way for him to sate his need for blood while out on missions. To the average looker, they’d likely mistake the bottles for healing potions or something else, as blood usually did not keep well unless it was preserved uniquely, like the blood wine that Sanguinium produced. These bottles, however, were enchanted to preserve their contents, allowing the blood to last a much longer time.
Once he finished, it was time for him to get some rest--tomorrow and the following days, he’d be bait. If these bandits were kidnapping people, then they might be a lead. Either way, bandits were more of a scourge than the empire, so dealing with them would be good either way.
Once morning came, Iceacar went down and had breakfast before thanking the innkeeper for his hospitality and tipping him a silver coin before heading out and remounting his horse.
As he left the city, taking the western road that led towards Winterwood. Iceacar did not rush or hurry. If he moved too quickly, he’d likely miss whatever trap the bandits had set. Most people weren’t keen on trying to run down a horse rider.
Several days passed uneventfully as he traveled down the road. There were other travelers and wandering along the road and a few villages, which Iceacar greeted kindly, traded for some goods and stayed the night. For the most part, the terrain was plains, with tall, wild-growing grasses on either side of the road. It wasn’t as good as forests for an ambush, but tall grass was undoubtedly more than enough to hide some skulking individuals.
Soon enough, that proved to be true. As sunset was approaching, and Iceacar was debating stopping for the evening, a half dozen men jumped out of the tall grass with crossbows pointed at him. There were three crossbowmen on either side, and another half dozen sprinted out from the tall grass to block his front and back.
“Get off yer horse whitey, or we’ll riddle yah with holes.” One of the crossbowmen shouted.
These were the bandits he’d been searching for--hopefully, they’d be able to provide him with some answer. Slowly, Iceacar dismounted the horse, sliding off of it.
“Aight, now step away from the horse.”
Iceacar, let out a small sigh. They wanted the horse. Rather than step away, however, he raised his hand and smacked the horse on the behind, sending it running off forward, causing a pair of the bandits who’d been blocking the way ahead to jump to the side not to get trampled.
“Oi! Are you daft! I said, step away from the horse, not send it running! Jevon, go, tie ‘im up. I don’t want this one to do any more funny business.”
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One of the bandits--specifically from the direction he’d come in moved forward, walking up cautiously. Judging from the looks of him, he was barely a man.
Of course, Iceacar did not have any regrets about what he was about to do to this young man--he was just a human, after all, and one that had likely committed many sins.
Iceacar knew how to use ice magic--of course, he could even pull the moisture out of the air to create the ice he needed. Unfortunately for him, the past few days had been clear of rain, which made it exponentially harder to pull moisture out of the air and far more taxing on his mana reserves to do so. However, the bandit offered the perfect opportunity to hardness to the resource he needed, and without the excessive mana required to accumulate it in drier conditions.
When Jevon arrived, Iceacar didn’t hesitate. He reached forward with lightning speed and grasped the bandit by his neck. Shouts of surprise erupted around him as the other bandits hesitated, launching their arrows. It seems they didn’t want to skewer their companion.
Jevon attempted to reach down and grasp his sword but shuttered and let out a terrible scream of pain as he felt the place where Iceacar has seized began to freeze--and after a moment, the spread of the ice increased exponentially.
The more mana Iceacar used, the quicker he’d freeze the boy and put him out of his misery. After only but a few moments, the ice spread, and the bandit’s head had been frozen solid.
It was at this point the speaking bandit shouted,”F...fire! Kill the bastard! Don’t let him get close!” he exclaimed, as the bandits launched their bolts--however, Iceacar was ready.
The frozen young man shattered, blocks of red ice flew from the corpse, blocking the crossbow bolts that had been shot towards Iceacar--he had the water he needed to defend himself, the blood of the bandit would suffice.
“Shit! Who is this guy? Get in there and stab him before he gets a weapon out.” The bandit leader exclaimed, ordering the other swordsman to charge in. They likely thought they had safety in numbers.
The frozen blood that floated in the air underneath his command collected within Iceacar’s grasp, creating a blood-red blade in his grasp.
Iceacar had learned over the years that the colder the ice was, the stronger it became--even becoming harder than steel if it was cold enough. This was why the ice-steel his homeland produced was so strong.
The five bandits that charged were untrained and only had little skill with the sword, while, Iceacar had over a century of experience wielding his weapons, and his unique fighting style was hard to counter as it was.
Iceacar dancer, his crimson ice blade swing from side to side, parrying the flurry of shortswords that were turned towards him. As the battle raged on, the ice blood that Iceacar had formed changed shape with each clash and parry.
When one bandit parried one of Iceacar’s strikes, the blade grew thinner, as a series of red spikes grew from the sword, embedding himself into his flesh, causing the bandit to reel back in pain, blood spouting from the wounds.
For another clash, the blade extended further and buried itself within his abdomen, causing him to fall back as blood oozed from his new wound.
The fight, all things considered, didn't last that long, but by then, the crossbowmen had reloaded their bolts and shot off another volley, not caring if they struck their companions anymore.
The blood blade cracked into several pieces, blocking the bolts once more. This time, they did not form back into a sword. Instead, they formed into small spikes and shot forward, burying themselves into the bandit archers sending them falling back onto the ground, wounded, with spikes of frozen blood sticking from them in odd places. It only took a few more minutes to wrench the desire to fight out surviving bandits. Most of the bandits were dead and dying by the end of the fight--the only one who didn’t have life-threatening wounds was the one giving the orders. Iceacar hoped he’d be just as talkative as he was before.
However, before Iceacar could interrogate the man, there was a slight issue he needed to rectify. Vampirism, in many cases, was both a gift and a detriment. Vampires were more robust, faster, and had greater reflexes due to their gift, but in exchange for these powers, they had a weakness to the sun--however, the bloodstone negated those effects and allowed a vampire to walk in broad daylight. There was another issue that could not be rectified so easily.
One side effect of vampirism was that once someone became a full-fledged vampire, they could not naturally regain their reserves of mana, and once a vampire became old enough, their mana reserves would deplete over time. The existence of mana within the body aids in the body’s processes to keep the body alive--and when drained of mana, people go through mana exhaustion, which can be fatal. The part of the body with the highest concentration of mana is the bloodstream--and one effect of vampirism was a mutation that elongated. It sharpened their canines to allow vampires to drink blood directly from other people, as well as the ability to drain the mana from the blood once it had been drunk.
As such, after using his reserves of mana to deal with the ambush of bandits, Iceacar needed to recharge and restore his mana reserves. Reaching downwards, the vampiric elf grasped one of his flasks of blood from his back and popped it open before draining the red liquid from the bottle. While it would not work instantly, it would be enough for Iceacar to restore most of his reserves over the rest of his day and allow him to do what he’d need to interrogate the bandit leader.
When Iceacar finally made his way over towards the bandit, he was trying to crawl away slowly, which was hardly effective with the trail of blood flowing from his impaled kneecap. Iceacar clicked his tongue in annoyance. If he didn’t do something, the man would probably bleed to death before he could get any information out of him.
As Iceacar reached forward, the bandit shouted in a fearful tone. “Get back, you monster! Back! “ Iceacar ignored his shouts and grasped the leg which the ice spike had impaled. Once again, Iceacar used his magic, freezing the blood and the wound itself shut. While it’d stop the blood, for now, it would likely cause long-term damage of its own, not that Iceacar cared.
Even after his leg was frozen, the bandit still pushed himself back, crawling away ever so slowly from the ice mage. That was until Iceacar planted his foot firmly against him, pinning the bandit to the ground.
“Now, Bandit, why don’t you tell me exactly what’s going on here…” Iceacar demanded, his eyes boring down into the bandit who struggled before letting out a defeated whimper.
“Oi...oi! We were just trying to nab yah to make some coin. Didn’t know you was a mage. If we did, we woulda left yah alone.” the bandit grunted out as Iceacar increasing the pressure on his chest.
“If that’s the case, why were you trying to take me, prisoner? If you wanted quick coin, you could have just demanded I drop what goods I had.”
“Ah...well, that’s cause people fetch a good price if you know where to sell ‘em at! You know, overseas and all…”
Iceacar knelt downward and grasped one of the bandit’s fingers, once again using his magic to drain the heat from the finger, freezing it in only a matter of moments. It was a painful process that caused the bandit to cry and scream in pain.
“Each time you lie to me, I’ll freeze another finger. I’m not stupid enough to believe you’d be trying to kidnap slaves and sell them on the eastern continent. The cost of transportation, as well as the risk of discovery, would outway the meager sums of gold you’d make. So, again, why are kidnapping people?”
Once again, the bandit whimpered before grunting. “That’s just what we were told to do! The boss told us to kidnap travelers, and we’d get paid based on that! One gold per person, and then if they were a vampire.” The bandit finally admitted, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.
“Lots of vampires fleeing towards Sanguinium end up taking these roads when they learn that vampire hunters watch the route directly into Sanguinium. When we saw you, a lone man traveling, we couldn’t help but attack. One gold is a lot less, but regular people are a lot safer than vampires. When they’re not mages, of course.”
Iceacar let out a small scoff as he stood up. “Is that so? Bandits kidnapping travelers and vampires? Any idea what they’re used for?”
“N...no! We take em back to camp, and then some guys will come and collect, do some tests, and give us payment. Been a pretty good arrangement so far.”
“Have you heard anything about Surthen Far?”
“Surthen Far? I’ve heard that name before...I think the guys who come and pick up the prisoners mentioned that name to the boss? Who is he?”
“The Diplomat from Sanguinium to the Empire. Any idea what they said.”
“No, not at all. Above my pay. I just kidnap the people and take them back to camp.”
“I see...now where your camp is? The one where you take all the prisoners.”
The bandit clicked his tongue and glanced down at his frozen finger before backup at Iceacar.
“Ah…They’re south of here. They got a camp in the woods between Winterwood and Ghostacre. There are probably about thirty people there on average, with teams of a dozen or so men keeping watching the roads around the area. If they’re like us, they all have their small camps to store and keep things before headin back to base.”
“And do you have anything of interest stored in your camp?”
“Wha…? Well...yes...we got a couple of prisoners back at our smaller camp...we were getting ready to get moving and decided if we could bag another guy or two, it’d be good…”
“Is that so? Well, where is your camp then?”
The bandit let out another sigh before raising his hand and pointing northward. “It’s a few miles down that way, off the beat train, between the villages of Miggledor and Whartvar. We also got two guys waiting at camp to keep an eye on the prisoners. Though...ah, I don’t think they’ll cause you much trouble.”
Iceacar took a moment, thinking if he had any questions left, and after thinking about it, there wasn’t anything significant he had left to ask. In the middle of his thinking, his prisoner did speak up.
“Ah...if there is nothing else...do you mind letting me go? I was cooperative, right?”
That simply caused Iceacar to grin. “Let you go? No, I still have some more use for you…” Iceacar commented as he reached downwards with one hand, his other hand reaching into his bag to pull out an empty flask...