The Vampire & Her Witch

Soft morning light filtered through the heavy fog in the Vale of Mists, spilling into guest rooms in the ancient fortress that hadn’t seen much use in decades. Now, however, the number of people who had become ’guests’ of Nyrielle’s fortress had grown large enough that even Georg needed a bit of help keeping up with the demands of so many unique individuals.

In one of those guest rooms, it was the combination of the light pouring in through the windows and the smell of spiced sausages and fresh bread that roused Liam Dunn from sleep.

"Where am I?" Liam asked as he sat up in the plush bed, throwing back the warm, comforting blankets and looking around the luxurious bed chamber in confusion. "This doesn’t look like the rooms in Sir Garrik Maeril’s castle..."

The last thing that Liam remembered was arriving in the Village of Maeril the day after his infuriating meeting with Marquis Bors and the few members of the Lothian Court who had gathered to learn of the demon attacks. He remembered Sir Garrik Maeril being insufferably polite about the Dunn family’s losses and the lack of support they were receiving from the Marquis while Bors sent Loman and reinforcements from the Church to Hanrahan Barony.

Technically, while Liam was the son of a baron and held a higher station than Sir Garrik, the infuriating knight didn’t owe any allegiance to the Dunns. The village of Maeril fell within the territory claimed directly by the Lothians and Sir Garrik was one of Bors Lothian’s personal vassals, the same as Liam Dunn’s father.

So, despite the differences in their station, Sir Garrik saw little reason to hold back his sense of satisfaction that the powerful and wealthy Dunns had suffered such an overwhelming setback. In the end, Liam had left the contemptible knight’s fortress for a knight of honest drinking in a pub that served the wealthier landowners bringing their goods to Maeril to ship downriver.

But, while he remembered going out drinking with a few of his knights, he had no memory of how he’d gotten to the room where he found himself now. The only thing he remembered at the end of the night were a pair of strange, amber eyes and the sound of a voice richer and stronger than any he’d ever heard, though he couldn’t remember anything the voice had said. Everything other than that felt hazy and the more he tried to think about it, the more details seemed to slip away.

The fortress in the Village of Maeril wasn’t very large and the accommodations offered to visiting noblemen weren’t much better than what could be found in any of the traveler’s inns in the bustling riverside village. By contrast, the place he’d woken was fit for the son of a count or better, with elegant tapestries on the walls and intricately carved furniture throughout the room.

"And where are my clothes?" Liam wondered as he realized that he’d been stripped to nothing but his underwear before he was placed in bed.

Glancing around the room revealed his boots and sword belt sitting near a chair, though the sword itself was missing. On top of the chair lay a neatly folded set of breeches, warm looking socks and an intricately embroidered tunic of soft greens with coppery designs that resembled falling leaves.