Elder Blood Witcher - 773 Jinxed

Asgore raises his hands placatingly with an awkward smile, “We should slow this discussion down… A calm hand is need during dire times like these.” he says diplomatically.

Reima curls his hands into fists and shakes his head, “What time is there? Who knows what they’re doing to Ciaran right now, we don’t even know if she’s still alive!? I refuse to let them take one of our own without full-scale retaliation!”

Asgore nods, “I also worry for her safety, but we need to plan rationally, instead of with terse emotion… If you continue with your plan of barging into everyone stronghold within the continent, Ichor itself will be left without your strength. Solaire might be able to fight off one of these “Elder Vampires”, but what if more than one comes?” he explains, not dropping his solemn expression.

Reima glares at the floor for a moment before sighing and dropping into his chair, “You’re right… We don’t even know how many Elders there are. If two, five, or maybe even ten invade I might be able to fight them off… But anymore will be a problem.” he says, his fight with Morwenna reminding him that he can still be stronger than he is now.

Iorveth speaks up with his feet resting on the table, “You know, we’re talking about what if’s and a lack of information… But we have one of their own with us now, don’t we?” he asks, gesturing towards Regis who’s silently sitting in the corner, brooding.

Reima “Regis? You alright?” he asks, the vampire jolting as he’s spoken to as if he were surprised.

Regis “Ah, er… Yes… Sorry, I’m just… Not feeling well after the battle.” he says in an almost monotone voice.

Reima “Is “That” causing problems?” he asks, not wishing to broach the subject if Regis didn’t want to.

Regis slowly nods, “There’s a reason we Vampires have a law about not killing one another… Generally, there are two ways for us to gain power… The traditional way is just through time, Vampires gain strength the older they are… For what reason, we’ve never attempted to find out, as trying to pry into the secrets of our “Betters” is considered treacherous…” he looks at his hands, still slightly blackened from dried blood, washing them once apparently not enough to completely cleanse them. “The second, is to kill other Vampires. The law against killing kin was created to stop a contest of strength, where everyone Vampire would engage in lethal combat until the single strongest remained.”

Asgore leans in curiously, “Who created this “law”, something like this would only stick if there was an authority maintaining it?”

Reima decides to backtrack onto what he’d initially asked about “So, you’re feeling the backlash from gaining too much strength too quickly?” he questions.

Regis “I suppose it’s somewhat like that… It’s hard to describe, but it’s an incongruity between my mind and my body, the changes to the latter are happening too quickly, and it provides an intense sense of… Vertigo?…”

Iorveth “As much as I care about your wellbeing, I’d rather know how many Elders there are.” he asks, interrupting Regis.

…

Regis nods, “Yes, such a thing would be important… From what I know, there are twenty Elders… Or at least, twenty official ones. Their number was decided based on how many sealed portals leading to our homeworld there were, the regions around them would be the Elder’s territory. If a Vampire wished to try and take an Elder’s position, it would be decided with a fight to the death… The victor would kill the loser and gain strength through it, cementing their position.”

Iorveth sighs, “Twenty of those monsters? I’ll just say what we’re all thinking… We’re fucked.” he states, no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Reima shrugs, “Nineteen you mean, I killed the one that invaded us… Morwenna she called herself.” he says, holding up her soul for all to see.

Iorveth “That’s great and all, but there’s still way too many for us to handle properly…”

Reima nods, “I know, so we’ll need to change up our tactics.”

Iorveth grins, “When the enemy’s numbers eclipse your own, tackle them with tricks, traps, and shiv the throne… It’s finally time to go on the offensive?” he asks hopefully.

Reima looks around at the room, everyone was tired from the battle but they all sent determined looks at him. “Then we’re in agreement, go, get some rest and we’ll discuss strategies tomorrow…” he says, waving them off.

Everyone shuffles out of the room which leaves only Reima, Quelaag, and Agore left inside…

Asgore finishes his tea and sighs, “You know, I used to believe that the strongest kingdoms were formed through strive… And while it still might be somewhat true, I can’t help but feel that Ichor is a magnet for trouble. Battle after battle, and still no peace in sight… Hmm, how about we make a bet?”

Reima raises a brow, “A bet?”

Asgore nods, “A bet, on whether or not another threat will present itself after we’ve dealt with the vampires.”

Reima snickers, “No thanks, I’m not in the business of making losing bets. The world hates me, and it’d bring down Satan himself if I jinxed it…”

Asgore laughs, “I suppose your right…” he stands, ” Well then, good evening Reim. Ah, send my greetings to Ciri and Geralt, I wish them both a quick recovery.” he says, walking off, presumably to his office to complete more paperwork.

Reima “Will do.” he says, grabbing Quelaag’s hand and teleporting to the church where Ciri was being cared for.