Elder Blood Witcher - 771 "Dispel"

Ciaran “Ah, my head…” she mutters, rubbing her face and temples. Quickly noticing that she’s no-longer wearing Artorias armour, nor her mask… In fact, all of her equipment was gone, her bottomless box, weapons, and even hidden knives. “This… Is not good.” she mutters, patting herself over and checking her wounds, finding that aside from a few scrabbed over scratches, she was fine.

A light blinds her momentarily as her eyes adjust to it, the sounds of clear and confident footsteps echoing through the room.

“Ah, so you’ve finally awaken?” the voice of a stranger asks in sickly sweet tone.

Ciaran’s vision eventually returns and she finally spots the origin of the voice… Pale skin, bald head, and piercing yellow eyes with black sclera… Vampire… An old one. “Who are you?” she questions, pushing herself to the back of the barred cell that now holds her.

The man grins, “I have many names, but the one that currently seems to be sticking is Vasile the Defiler.”

Ciaran scowls and covers her body, “I’ll bite my tongue if you try to touch me.” she states.

Vasile laughs, “Hahahahahahaha! Don’t worry little girl, I have no intention of lowering myself enough to use your body… No, what I want is far more abstract and precious…”

Ciaran “Where is this?” she asks, wishing to try and gather some intel for her eventual escape.

Vasile “This is one of my kind no domain, you might recognise it… I believe it’s called Kovir and Poviss?”

Ciaran frowns, seems like Kaedwen wasn’t the only place under assault… She’d have expected the many Mages to be able to defend Kovir at least somewhat, though, judging by how calm and comfortable Vasile is, all resistance has likely been squashed. “Hmm, judging by the fact we’re not currently in Kaedwen… You failed to capture the city, didn’t you?” she asks, almost taunting the man.

Vasile growls at her, grabbing the metal bar and squeezing it hard. “Shut your mouth mortal, if it weren’t for how unique you are, I would have bled you dry right there in Ard Carriagh!” he exclaims.

…

The vampires seem to compose himself and breathes a long sigh, releasing the bar and revealing that his grip had left a deep handprint in the metal… “My apologies, centuries of sleep tends to cause havoc on your emotions…

Ciaran shakes her head, “Don’t trouble yourself over it, my opinion of you can’t get any less than it already is.” she spits.

Vasile “Oh, you’ll find that I am very persuasive… I promise you’ll be mine eventually.” he says, his head resting against the bars as he looks down at Ciaran.

Vasile easily backs up, “You’re quick, for a mortal, and while I hate to leave people in despair, you should know that I cannot be killed. I am immortal.”

Ciaran shakes her head, “It matters not, you will die at my hand.”

Vasile nods, “I look forward to it.” he says, waving at her as he walks away.

Ciaran slumps against the wall and looks up at the stone ceiling… she’s like to make plans for her escape but there was simply not enough information to go off on. She’s never been to Kovir and Poviss before and had no clue able the layout of the land, nor did she know of the routes of Patrols, their numbers, watchtowers, the sensory abilities of vampires, or even whether or not they’d enslaved the Mages or simply killed them.

Around three hours after Vasile had visited her, or atleast that’s how long she thought it’d been, footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway… A dim light giving away someone’s presence… It’s a woman…

They have dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, they’re wearing tattered rags that look to have previously been fine clothing, though, the most notable thing would be the collar around her neck…

“Here’s your food, prisoner.” she says in a dull, emotionless voice and passes some bread and water through the slip in the bars.

Ciaran stands up and walks over, noting that the woman doesn’t seem to have a reaction to her movements… She looks into her eyes, and finds that they’re glazed over, almost like a corpses usually are… “Hello?”

…

Ciaran frowns at not getting a reply, reaching out and grabbing the woman shoulder, “Excuse me? Can you speak?”

…

*Slap!*

Ciaran gives the woman a slap across the face, making sure to grab their shoulders in order to stop them from walking too far away from the bars. “You, can you speak!?!” she asks loudly, finding the woman’s eye twitches slightly. “Forgive me… It seems I must bring you back to your senses.”

*SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!*

A few minutes pass, and after a barrage of rather heavy slaps to the face, the woman finally reacts, pushing herself away and falling on her butt while glaring up at Ciaran. “Stop! Why on earth are you slapping me!”

Ciaran “You wouldn’t react when I spoke to you.” she states, not apologetic in the least. And while she would not admit it, relieving her irritation on the woman had quelled some of her irritation at the situation…

…

The woman’s eyes widen as she quickly looks around, “W-what? Where am I?”

Ciaran “In a prison.”

…

The woman slowly gets up and touches her neck, her face going pale when she notices the collar… “W-no, this can’t be… When had this…”

Ciaran “Calm down, you aren’t currently the one locked in a cell, so if you don’t compose yourself I’ll start hitting you again.”

The woman scowls, “With your previous actions, I’d guess you are more ape than woman… But I suppose you do have a point…”