Guardians of Innistrad
Dahlia - Chapter II
Dahlia
Outer Skirts of Kessig
Dahlia adjusted the hood around her head for the dozenth time and ensured that the fasteners keeping her cloak closed were still in place. A fine layer of sweat covered the vampire’s flesh, a mere taste of her discomfort.
She sped down the dirt road that served as the human city’s main street. All around her she could feel the nervous stares; she could hear mothers ushering their children indoors. A couple groups whispered about the cloaked maiden that raced through their city – why someone dressed in an elegant fashion bore no family crest.
The redhead veered off to the left and ducked into a building that was indicated on the map her contact had delivered. It was a bustling tavern that the locals had dubbed, “The Shady Chapel,” which apparently had been a running gag for a while – while Avacyn’s devoted followers were in church, drunkards and less than reputable, “Businessmen,” spent their time here. The tavern always seemed to have a decent crowd, so it was the perfect place for a vampire to discreetly meet with a Nephalian necromancer.
Dahlia saw him sitting at the bar, feigning interest at whatever the busty tender was talking about. She didn’t need to make eye contact with the man for him to notice her – as soon s she had slid into a booth in a far corner, he dropped some money onto the counter and made his way to where she sat.
“Did anyone follow you?” he asked as his vibrantly blue eyes scanned the building.
The vampire rolled her eyes and shot him a glare, “Do you take me for a fool, Kirdan?”
Not taking notice of the agitation in her voice, Kirdan gave Dahlia a satirical smile and shook his head saying, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed? By the way, you smell awful – did you take a bath in sweat or someth- Ohhhhhhhh…”
Dahlia had stabbed the mage in the leg with her fingernail, twisting it in his flesh to shut him up.
“You don’t call a vampire to a bar in Kessig in broad daylight, only to proceed to make fun of her, spirit-whisperer,” she hissed as she violently ripped her nail out of his thigh.
The woman licked the blood off of her finger, only to promptly spit it out. “Your blood tastes like dirt.”
Kirdan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Ahem. Anyways, I’ve ensures that the werewolf clans have heard whispered of Avacyn returning. They aren’t entirely intelligent so they listen to nearly everything that they hear, but, the vampires of Nephalia are a different story. The geists will be impossible for me to trick on my own, Both groups know better than to be frightened of peasant rumors.”
Dahlia nodded in agreement, “The Stensian humans will latch onto any shred of hope they can find. They cling to the whispers of Avacyn’s release from the Helvant. They’re beginning to fight back now, they’ve started defending their homes again. But you’re right, it will take more than the gossip of merchants for my species to back off on their hunting.”
“You’re right, vampire, but… Something else might. Something that isn’t just a lie we forged.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“I hear Sorin Markov is back. And I also hear that the Markov head sends a couple shivers down some of your kind’s backs. There aren’t many records of vampires creating angels that protect humans.”
“And if the one who did came back from his self-exile,” Dahlia started, “Then maybe the younger, more reckless vampires will feed with caution. Kirdan, how did you hear of this?”
The necromancer tapped his temple with his index finger with his usual arrogant grin.
“Necromancers aren’t all just ghoul-raisers, leech. My friends from the other side have few things to do than to keep up with Innistrad’s situation. I have eyes and ears all over this continent.”
Dahlia let him gloat as her mind whirled with the news. The ancient vampire, Sorin, had the same ideals as she did – hence the creation of Avacyn: he knew just as she did that if the werewolves, vampires and ghouls went unchecked, then humanity would be extinguished. By that point, it would only be a matter of time before their race starved and died without a food source. If she could find this vampire, they might be able to find a way to either bring Avacyn back, or create a new angel.
“Have your geists spread that message to Gavony – the archangel didn’t kill humanity’s tormentors, she sealed them in another dimension. It’s a fate worse than death for some, and hopefully we can convince them to believe that Sorin will release Avacyn. Or create another angel. If anything, it will buy us some time. I have business to attend to.”
With that being said, Dahlia stood up from the booth and left the shaggy-haired necromancer where he sat.
Outer Skirts of Kessig
Dahlia adjusted the hood around her head for the dozenth time and ensured that the fasteners keeping her cloak closed were still in place. A fine layer of sweat covered the vampire’s flesh, a mere taste of her discomfort.
She sped down the dirt road that served as the human city’s main street. All around her she could feel the nervous stares; she could hear mothers ushering their children indoors. A couple groups whispered about the cloaked maiden that raced through their city – why someone dressed in an elegant fashion bore no family crest.
The redhead veered off to the left and ducked into a building that was indicated on the map her contact had delivered. It was a bustling tavern that the locals had dubbed, “The Shady Chapel,” which apparently had been a running gag for a while – while Avacyn’s devoted followers were in church, drunkards and less than reputable, “Businessmen,” spent their time here. The tavern always seemed to have a decent crowd, so it was the perfect place for a vampire to discreetly meet with a Nephalian necromancer.
Dahlia saw him sitting at the bar, feigning interest at whatever the busty tender was talking about. She didn’t need to make eye contact with the man for him to notice her – as soon s she had slid into a booth in a far corner, he dropped some money onto the counter and made his way to where she sat.
“Did anyone follow you?” he asked as his vibrantly blue eyes scanned the building.
The vampire rolled her eyes and shot him a glare, “Do you take me for a fool, Kirdan?”
Not taking notice of the agitation in her voice, Kirdan gave Dahlia a satirical smile and shook his head saying, “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed? By the way, you smell awful – did you take a bath in sweat or someth- Ohhhhhhhh…”
Dahlia had stabbed the mage in the leg with her fingernail, twisting it in his flesh to shut him up.
“You don’t call a vampire to a bar in Kessig in broad daylight, only to proceed to make fun of her, spirit-whisperer,” she hissed as she violently ripped her nail out of his thigh.
The woman licked the blood off of her finger, only to promptly spit it out. “Your blood tastes like dirt.”
Kirdan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Ahem. Anyways, I’ve ensures that the werewolf clans have heard whispered of Avacyn returning. They aren’t entirely intelligent so they listen to nearly everything that they hear, but, the vampires of Nephalia are a different story. The geists will be impossible for me to trick on my own, Both groups know better than to be frightened of peasant rumors.”
Dahlia nodded in agreement, “The Stensian humans will latch onto any shred of hope they can find. They cling to the whispers of Avacyn’s release from the Helvant. They’re beginning to fight back now, they’ve started defending their homes again. But you’re right, it will take more than the gossip of merchants for my species to back off on their hunting.”
“You’re right, vampire, but… Something else might. Something that isn’t just a lie we forged.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“I hear Sorin Markov is back. And I also hear that the Markov head sends a couple shivers down some of your kind’s backs. There aren’t many records of vampires creating angels that protect humans.”
“And if the one who did came back from his self-exile,” Dahlia started, “Then maybe the younger, more reckless vampires will feed with caution. Kirdan, how did you hear of this?”
The necromancer tapped his temple with his index finger with his usual arrogant grin.
“Necromancers aren’t all just ghoul-raisers, leech. My friends from the other side have few things to do than to keep up with Innistrad’s situation. I have eyes and ears all over this continent.”
Dahlia let him gloat as her mind whirled with the news. The ancient vampire, Sorin, had the same ideals as she did – hence the creation of Avacyn: he knew just as she did that if the werewolves, vampires and ghouls went unchecked, then humanity would be extinguished. By that point, it would only be a matter of time before their race starved and died without a food source. If she could find this vampire, they might be able to find a way to either bring Avacyn back, or create a new angel.
“Have your geists spread that message to Gavony – the archangel didn’t kill humanity’s tormentors, she sealed them in another dimension. It’s a fate worse than death for some, and hopefully we can convince them to believe that Sorin will release Avacyn. Or create another angel. If anything, it will buy us some time. I have business to attend to.”
With that being said, Dahlia stood up from the booth and left the shaggy-haired necromancer where he sat.