CHPT 158: Paths decided by Blood.

"AAARGH!!" Claude roared in his throaty and base heavy Lupine voice as he rose up from the grass he laid on with Frosty and the Phantom Wolves.

The sudden burst of movement and noise had the Phantom Wolves on their feet immediately with the fine black hairs on their vaporous backs standing on end.

They searched the immediate area, eager to find the intruder they assumed Claude was assaulted by— oblivious to the fact that the assault came from the depths of his own mind.

Frosty on the other hand, slowly got up from his spot laying beside Claude and sat calmly in front of him— patiently waiting for him to adjust as he did most mornings they spent together.

Claude took a long exhale, feeling his cool breaths blow on his hot and sweaty skin as he ran his partially transformed hands through his hair and over his face.

"[Rough one?]" Arne asked sympathetically.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Guys! Everything's fine— bad dream is all. Sorry about that." Claude replied to Arne and calmed the Phantom Wolves.

In response, the smokey slender Wolves relaxed and laid back down— picking only spots of intense shade inside the forest they occupied.

Claude sat for a moment longer, holding his head as he felt the recoil of his nightmare.

"Actually....there was something new." He said in reference to Arne's question about anything being different in his nightmares.

"[Let me guess. Vampires.]"

The memory of the creature's haunting screeches and horrifying appearance in the Darkways got his blood pumping and his eyes flaring like green torches.

"Yea." He replied after a moment.

"[Well, that's quite fitting actually. Why don't you work off that extra energy you've got, clean up and we'll talk after.]"

"Sounds good." Claude said before getting up and stretching. The Wolves followed suit, seeming to innately understand that all of them were ready to be active.

***

The first thing they did was listen to their stomachs, which wasn't very hard since Claude's was screaming at him while it shrunk and wrapped around his spine.

The intense hunger resulted in his senses blossoming to life and leading him straight to prey that he didn't bother using his weapon against. His claws and the Wolves jaws get the job done fast enough.

An hour or so later and they were full off of Deer meat and fresh water, Claude let the Wolves relax in the shade after the successful hunt while he brought the pelt and bone weapons he was able to make to his spot inside the forest where the rest of his things were.

With his insane appetite satiated, there was only one thing left to do. Train.

***

He hit the weights with the same intensity as usual, backed by his nightmares and the drive to keep them from becoming reality. Even though some of them were already.

The morning sun hovered over the top of the forest and cabin as he lunged back and forth across the field while the Wolves played around with a bone spear he previously used to play fetch with them.

A few minutes later and the end of his workout was dignified by the dropping of two 60lb weights into the grass near the rest of his equipment.

"Hah....time to clean up." He quickly told himself so he could hurry up and get away from the cabin that was slowly making him sick to his stomach.

***

Now standing in the cool waters of the stream behind the cabin, he cleaned himself off with Frosty.

He decided to pull the others back into the design on his palm since Ashe was giving him the idea that they'd didn't appreciate the morning sun all that much.

While he took handfuls of the cold water and let it fall down his back and chest, he studied himself— which he never really did often. Even before he was changed.

The face that stared back at him through the hazy reflection in the stream was one he still wasn't accustomed to. A semi-long nose that looked to be on the verge of a snarl and thick black eyebrows that cast a shadow over his dark deep set eyes....eyes that somehow looked different.

He leaned forward, taking a better look at his vague liquid reflection, taking note of the scar running across his nose and the change in his eye color. They were darker, somehow much darker. Like a deep shade of black, interrupted by tiny flecks of bright white. It looked like small shards of stars or the moon were hidden in his eyes.

"What the fu—"

"[So. I think it's time we talk.]" Arne suddenly interrupted, scaring Claude half to death.

"Erhm. Yes. Vampires."

"[Tell me what you know about them?]" Arne replied pensively.

Claude took another handful of the water and let it run down the already healed cuts and burns on his arms as he thought over everything he could about the haunting Undead race.

"Hm. I didn't really get to read on Mythic Level Monsters so I don't know much. But what I do know is that they are Undead who feed on blood to survive and grow in power— I didn't think they'd look so horrifying though..." He replied as the image of the scraggly winged creature appeared in his mind.

"[They don't always look like that. In fact it's been a while since I've seen one like that..]" Arne said after a moment.

Claude stopped cleaning his healed wounds after Arne spoke. "What do you mean by that?"

"[Well, you see. Vampires are a race meant to blend in with society— even better than Shape-Shifters in some scenarios. They're predators the humans aren't supposed to realize until their at deaths door, right when they're about to be bled dry. But they can only blend in like that on a regular diet of blood— not too much, and not too little.]"

"They need balance.." Claude added.

"[Exactly, but balance is incredibly hard to achieve as a Vampire. Imagine every bone in your body, every thought in your mind, being centered around blood and death. This balance is rarely achieved without the guidance of a Coven and or an Elder.]"

Claude rubbed the sharp sheet of stubble spread across his jawline while he tried to follow Arne's lesson on Vampires.

"So. A Coven, what is that? Like a pack of Vampires?" He asked.

"[Precisely. Although their's functions differently from Lupine packs, it's still a sound comparison.]"

"Ok. So without a pa— Coven. What happens?"

Arne was silent for a long stretch of seconds, mumbling silently in Claude's mind. "[That balance we talked about earlier. A new Vampire usually has no way of getting and retaining that balance. So they can go one of two ways.]"

"Which are?..."

"[The Blood Starved....and the Blood Gorged. These terms represent extremes of life as a Vampire. What you saw— and defeated last night was a Blood Starved Vampire.]" Arne said, sounding sterner than usual— which caused his English accent to take on a sharp intensity.

"....How could you tell?" Claude asked after a moment.

"[There's a number of indicators. The most apparent being it's physical appearance. Blood Starved Vampires are as the name states— starved of blood. Since the race needs blood to survive, when they're without it they look like the true members of the Undead that they are. Being starved to such a level as a Vampire means normal bodily functions cease to exist, vision fades, senses turn off— all except for hearing which strengthens to an incredible degree, hair falls out and their skin takes on that hideous cold and lifeless look.]"

Claude shivered at the memory, "So, without blood they begin to deteriorate and become mindless monsters?"

"[Yes that's correct. But being in the stage also puts their lives on a timer. A Vampire can only starve for so long.]"

"What happens if they get enough blood?"

"[They regain bodily functions— now supported by the blood of humans and their vastly unknown magical physiology, and slowly get a more humanoid look back— aside from their fangs. When that happens, if they belong to a Coven— they get their wings clipped and rejoin society now as Children of the Night.]"

Claude was ready to ask the next obvious question when another came bursting to the forefront of importance in his mind. "Why do they want to rejoin society? Wouldn't it be better if they worked similarly to the Raiders?"

"[No. They're a race made to be successful in cities and areas with dense populations. They'd risk becoming Blood Starved if they decided to feed on Nomads and Village people. But I'm sure some do. Plus, a Blood Starved Vampire is at risk of more than just death.]"

Claude couldn't even begin to imagine what Arne meant. "Explain."

"[Being that they're Undead and almost completely mindless as Blood Starved, they run the risk of being controlled— piloted.]"

"Controlled by what???" He thought as he tried to imagine something controlling the thing he ran into inside the Darkways.

"[Controlled by Necromancer's.]"

Claude froze upon hearing the name. Necromancer's were a Class that was once heavily regulated and now out right banned. Anyone performing anything to do with Necromancy or the Black Arts was sent straight to prison or killed. The thought of a person being able to control a Vampire or possibly a handful of them was downright chilling and gave him a better idea of why the Class was criminalized.

He took a moment to think over everything he'd learned from Arne— who somehow knew just about everything about them, while he exited the cool stream and put on his torn and dirtied dry clothes.

"So. The Blood Starved are as the name states and susceptible to being used by Necromancer's. Then once they get enough blood, if they have the control or a Coven, they retain their minds and rejoin society as silent predators?" He asked as he stepped into the field, a little less rattled than he was when he was standing in the stream and hearing everything for the first time.

"[Mhm.]"

"Then what are the Blood Gorged?"

"[These are the rare ones. Often unrecognizable or connectable to the classic idea of a Vampire. After a Vampire gains that balance, if they relapse or simply decide they're done fighting the impossible thirst they feel, they become The Blood Gorged. By doing this they over indulge on the blood of any living thing they can find. This causes them to look more like the monsters they become the second they choose to succumb to the urge. Sometime after this, the blood begins to act as a catalyst behind a slow and grueling transformation involving a burst in muscle growth, sensory development and fur— much like our own transformation— only slower and they look nothing like us.]" He explained, by the time he finished he sounded thoroughly disgusted.

Claude tried to fathom what a Vampire monster would look like— but he couldn't imagine anything looking worse than the Blood Starved. "What would that even look like?"

"[Hm. Something akin to a ten foot tall WereBat. Or the artistic depictions of the God, Camazotz. Or so I've heard..]"

Claude shivered as his imagination placed dark fur and talons on the image of the Blood Starved in his mind.

"[But don't worry. Those almost never survive since they attack the largest blood banks. Which are often cities— where Heroes are. I used to be sure of the same for The Blood Starved— but not so much now. It's unsettling to say the least.]" Arne said, slowly starting to think out loud instead of speaking to Claude.

"Why do you know so much about Vampires?" He suddenly asked, oblivious to Arne's previous statement.

"[Lupines didn't just fight each other. I led my Pack on a number of successful Coven Raids. Plus, I come from Arthuria— the outskirts of the wet and cloudy continent are riddled with Blood Starved Vampires and Dark Elves. I've gained all the information I have now through countless encounters and battles.]" Arne replied sounding prideful when he mentioned where he came from.

"Arthuria.....Old World Europe. WAIT! Lupines hunted Vampires?!" Claude asked, stunned by the sudden overflow of information concerning the elusive backstory of his guide and further information on the Lupines.

"[Listen. None of that matters right now. We have more pressing matters to discuss.]" Arne interrupted.

Claude straightened with alertness, causing Frosty to trot over and start sniffing the area, eager to understand Claude's change in body language. "What now?"

"[Claude. It seems their may be a Coven in the Darkways— or worse, in SkyHaven.]"