Lineage

For missions that involved trying not to be seen, Luna never recommended black, especially in populated cities. Black stood out in a crowd, black was a memorable colour, and black didn’t blend in well with any kind of wall, floor, or texture. Instead of hiding in boxes and closets, Luna had always taught me to hide in plain sight, use the environment to your advantage, blend in with the crowd, and never do anything to draw attention to yourself. The latter piece of advice would work wonders getting me close to the Town Hall, but once I was inside, I’d have to take on a much more traditionally stealthy approach. I’d need to stay at an elevated position, keep away from the floor as much as possible, and stay in parts of a room that wouldn’t draw attention.

I adjusted my clothing attire to something that wouldn’t draw attention, especially in a city as cold as this. It was a basic attire of a tight, brown trench coat, fastened up with its hood pulled low over my eyes, topped off with a pair of rough pants, and soft-soled boots. Though underneath my attire was quite different. I’d sprung for more expensive clothes, made sure my hair was flattened down with oil, had an expensive pair of trousers on and a predetermined location I’d use to change into fancier shoes if I needed to.

This was a method Luna had taught me a long time ago to use if something went wrong on a stealth mission or if you were being pursued by guards: Make sure the clothing you wear underneath your sneaking attire is so radically different that you can just dump it once you’ve broken line of sight, sit down on a bench, and pretend to look confused as the guards came rushing by, shouting for them to get the “Peasant in a trench coat”.

To make sure my face was as hidden as possible, I’d stitched up a piece of brown fabric cut from a sweater to act as a basic mask to cover the lower half of my face that was currently tucked away under my collar as to not raise suspicion. I regretted not being able to fashion a mask that would’ve hidden my eyes, their bright blue being extremely distinguishable in a city full of brown, grey, and green, but I had to play with the hand I was dealt. I moved quietly through the crowds of people that were making their way out of the city as the sun began to set, trying to draw as little attention as possible as others clad in coats, wool, and all kinds of warm clothing made their way through the streets.

I joined a small group of people that broke off into an alley that went behind the Town Hall, this being the perfect chance to get into the building without the guards noticing. After slipping a coin purse out of my pocket and throwing its contents several feet ahead of me, the people in the alley began to scramble for it, allowing me to jump onto a box, leap onto a stone column on the building next to the Town Hall, shimmy my way across to a statue of a man riding a chariot, and clamber up to the rooftop of the smaller building from there. I crouched down, seeing the people below having picked up most of the money and left the area, only a few that had spotted me shooting peculiar looks before moving on with their lives.

I stared at the side of the Town Hall I was on, spotting the marble ledges I could use to climb across and up onto the roof, where I’d sniff around to find any windows on the building that I could use to get inside. I was hoping that the guards that worked in this place were the kind that cut corners: only locked windows on floors that were hard to reach, didn’t bother locking other doors if they were in a room behind a door that was already locked, kept leaving keys everywhere for people to pick up, walking around expositing information between each other, and leaving thousands of hand-written notes that explain the backstory of the area they were in and then leave them there for anyone to pick up.

I liked those kinds of morons. They made this stuff much easier.

After clambering around the sides of the building for a while, I got my answer: I was dealing with lazy guards, as a window to the left wing of the Town Hall slid open quietly and smoothly allowing me in without a hitch. I jumped inside, slowly closing the window behind me, before turning back to face the door. The room I was in was definitely some kind of archive, but what it was archiving wasn’t exactly obvious. I gathered that this place wouldn’t have signs above each door that told me what was stored in where, but I would guess that there was some kind of filing system used for each wing of the building as well as each individual room.

And the voices I overheard outside the door gave the game away immediately.

“Did you hear about that twat that came asking about the crime records?” I heard a foreign accent ask.

“Aye, the bellend with the blue hair pretending to be a prince?” another one with the same accent asked. “What kinda idiots did he think we were to fall for that?”

“No idea, mate,” the first voice chuckled. “Said he’d be back, n’all. Haven’t seen hide nor stupid hair of the bastard since. Probably realised his mistake and fucked off back to wherever he came from. ‘Crown Prince of Equestria’, pff, crown prince my arse.”

“Fucking right,” the second laughed. “Ew, you seem them dodgy-looking blokes in here earlier?”

“The Royal Guard?” the first asked. “I saw ‘em, aye. They were lookin’ to be moving some kind of shite around, weren’t they. Think I heard em muttering about the crime records or something, didn’t hear em well enough.”

“Is that was they were moving?” the second questioned. “The dickhead with the suit, the guy that works at reception, seemed to be pissin’ his knickers about something. Maybe the kid scared him or the like?”

“Might’ve,” the first agreed. “Maybe it was the records he was after that they moved. Though I dunno why they’d be moving them into the Lion Wing.”

“Which one’s that again?”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, hanging awkwardly in the air before the sound of rustling armour, a loud impact, and one of them hissing in pain.

“The fuck d’ya hit us for, ya daft bastard!?” the second exclaimed.

“I’m the daft bastard?!” the first demanded angrily. “You’re the thick cunt that just asked me which Wing was the Lion Wing when we can both see the cunting thing from here! Ya stupid twat.”

“Alright, alright,” the second said in a quiet tone, clearly embarrassed about the blunder. “Fuckin’ prick.”

“The fuck was that?” the first asked.

“Nothin’,” the second mumbled.

“Aye, it was fucking nothing, wasn’t it?” he growled angrily. “Fuckin’ talk to me like that and I’ll smash ya face in.”

After hearing the delightful conversation between the two friends, I heard them wander off elsewhere as terrible expositing guards often did.

“These guys make this too easy,” I smirked, pulling the fabric up over my face and covering the lower half, leaving only my eyes visible. I tested the trigger mechanism on the hidden blade, the steel extending outwards at lightning speed and locking into place. I tested its resistance by applying pressure to it, satisfied that it didn’t slide back in at all.

“Hopefully I don’t need to use it,” I whispered.

I headed towards the door and slipped my hand into one of my pockets on the coat, removing a small makeup mirror from it and angling it under the door, reflecting what was on the outside to make sure it was clear. I waited for several minutes just to make sure the guards weren’t doing round before making my next move. I slid the mirror back into my pocket and left the room, seeing the balcony barely illuminated by nothing more than a few candles and several guards positioned mostly on the ground floor.

I looked around the area, spotting a carving of a stone lion above a large set of double doors, knowing instinctively that opening it was going to draw attention, especially from the guard standing in front of it. She wasn’t too heavily armed, wielding only a spear, a dagger on the belt, and the usual armour. Though the thing that stuck out to me was the fact that she, and the other guards in the building, weren’t wearing the royal guard uniform. It was foreign, but not too far removed from the usual plate and chainmail combination most guards wore in this area. She seemed to study the environment she was in for a long second before slowly sneaking inside the room she was guarding.

I knew then and there that something wasn’t right about her. She was either going in there to take a nap on the job, or there was a slight chance she was looking for the same thing I was. The area she was guarding was surprisingly barren, with the only other guard being a long distance away from her and facing the other way, which left the area around the door easy to slip through.

Which it indeed was.

I was able to make my way across the balcony of the higher floor, down to the outside of that door, and inside the room without so much as a glimpse of myself being given away. And what greeted me inside was not something I was expecting. The guard had stripped out of her armour in the few minutes it had taken me to get there, now clad in nothing more than the under armour given to prevent chafing from chain and plate. She had taken residence in a chair in front of a desk with a bat-themed blade in her hand.

“Hello, Richter,” she said with a smirk, revealing her vampiric fangs. “Fancy meeting you here.”

There was no point in hiding my identity any longer and with a sigh, I pulled the fabric down from my face.

“Who are you?” I demanded, getting straight to the point.

“Oh, and here I heard you treated your women with respect,” she sighed. “How unlucky of me to catch you on a bad day?”

“Who are you?” I repeated, losing my patience.

“My name is Scindya,” she answered. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Why are you here?”

“Gosh, you aren’t in the mood to play, are you?” she asked. “Would it help if I took off the rest of my clothing?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, instead unclasping the under armour at her neck and peeling it off her body, exposing her large breasts and toned body, giving me a hungry look as she gently massaged her melons in an attempt to entice.

“Does this help?” she asked, toying with her nipples. “Or do you wanna see even more? I’m willing to comply. I need you on our side.”

“Our side?” I echoed.

“Of course, Countess Aleksandra has tasked me with rescuing you from the evil clutches of Usurper Verella and her Court of Lies,” she nodded.

“Come again?” I asked.

“You’re being played, Richter,” she said, standing up and sauntering towards me. “Verella’s got you on a leash through lies and false promises. I’m here to show you the light.”

“I’d say that’s ironic for a vampire,” I shrugged. “But light doesn’t affect you guys beyond annoyance.”

“Smart boy,” she nodded, pressing her huge tits against my chest as she wrapped her arms around me, flicking her raven-coloured hair back over her shoulder and staring at me with a hungry expression. “Tell me, do you have enough brain in that head of yours? And would you like me to give the second some?”

“I want you to explain what you’re talking about,” I said, sliding my hands down her back and squeezing her thick ass.

What? Hot pussy is hot pussy, no matter how evil it is.

“But I don’t want to do it here,” she giggled. “We might get walked in on.”

“Then give me one good piece of information to get me to come with you,” I said, running my tongue down her neck. “Or you die here.”

“Mhm, such a charmer,” she smirked. “Very well. Queen Verella is the one that blooded you. She’s going to take control of your mind and turn you into a baby machine for a whole new race of super-powered vampires to enslave humanity.”

“...” I looked down at the smaller vampire as she gently ground her tits against my chest, her thick lips curled into a smile as she watched me make my decision.

“Is that enough to get your curiosity?” she asked.

“You had my curiosity,” I said, sliding my hand over her ass and between her legs, massaging her pussy gently. “Now you’ve got my attention.”

“Well then… shall we depart?” she asked.

“Not just yet,” I said, moving away from her, much to her discontent, and getting the box marked for this year’s crime incidents.

“What do you need that for?” she asked, tucking herself away in her under armour and belting her armour back on as she prepared to leave.

“For curiosity’s sake,” I shrugged.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she said with a wag of her finger.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” I answered, tucking the papers from the box into the inner pockets of my coat and putting the box back on the shelf. “Any plans as to how we’re gonna get past the guards?”

“Of course,” she nodded, taking hold of my collar and opening a portal behind her. “Don’t hold your breath.”

With that, she dragged us both into the swirling, purple nexus and transported us through the rift and to wherever the hell she wanted us to end up. We landed in a warm room with wooden flooring, bright lighting, and the smell of cooked meat. I turned around once released to see the same woman from the jail cell, the cliche vampire with blonde hair and huge breasts sitting at a dinner table alone in the large room, cutting into a chunk of cooked beef.

“Ah,” she said after she finished her mouthful. “Richter. It’s good to see you again. You may leave us now, my dear.”

“Of course, Your Rightful Majesty,” the vampire nodded, bowing before leaving the room.

“Would you mind removing your coat, Richter?” the vampiress, now named Aleksandra, asked in a polite tone. “It’s not very good dinner attire.”

I hesitated for a moment, thinking it over, before sliding my coat off and throwing it over a chair.

“Ah, good to see you’re dressed for the occasion,” she smiled. “Please, pick a plate, pick some food, and I’ll answer all of your questions.”

I did as instructed, giving her a quick warning about the Alicorn immunity to most poisons, before picking a selection of meat and vegetables from the large assortment laid out, before sitting down next to Aleksandra.

“So…” she said, cutting several slices of meat and eating one of them. “What do you want to know first?”

“What did you do to Karra?” I asked.

“I turned her into my Thrall,” she answered in a simple tone. “I needed eyes on the inside of Verella’s castle, and the passive ability to tap into her senses since she is my Thrall allows me to hear every plan Verella makes with you and allows me to counteract it. It’s how I was able to send one of my underlings to intercept you today. She of course expected you to be there hours earlier but it’s better late than never, no?”

“Free her,” I ordered.

“I will when you’re done working for me,” Aleksandra said. “But in the meantime, I won’t force her to do anything out of her will. You have my word.”

“What if I don’t believe you?” I asked.

“You don’t have much of a choice,” she said, setting her knife and fork down to take a sip from her wine glass. “Now, any other questions?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m working for you now?” I asked.

“Perhaps I spoke too soon,” Aleksandra said with a nod. “What I mean is that I need you on my side to help take my kingdom back from Verella and her Court of Lies.”

“The vampire that brought me here mentioned that,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “What exactly do you mean? Does Verella not have a legal right to rule?”

“Indeed she doesn’t,” Aleksandra nodded. “She seduced my father, murdered both him and my mother, and took the throne from me before exiling me from my home forever.”

“How do I know you’re not making that up?” I asked. “You could just be telling me anything you think will help get me on your side. But then again… so could Verella.”

“I’m glad you’re not close-minded, Richter,” Aleksandra said with genuine appreciation. “It’s not very often someone is willing to hear both sides of the story before acting.”

“Because you often don’t get a chance to,” I shrugged. “Sometimes you just immediately believe what someone tells you because it’s the only thing you know. But I want to listen to what you have to say, to make a decision I like beforehand.”

“A decision you like?” she asked with a cocked eyebrow. “Don’t you mean the right decision?”

“Nope,” I shrugged. “I’m a morally ambiguous person at heart. I don’t care who’s right and who’s wrong. I only care to see what I can gain from the winning side.”

“You truly are a mercenary, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I was trained to get jobs done, not to have an opinion on them,” I nodded. “Someone gives you a job, you get it done, pick up the coin purse thrown at your feet and move on with your day. But even I have my limits.”

“Such as?” Aleksandra asked.

“Slavery, paedophilia, rape, child murder, genocide,” I listed. “Just off the top of my head. If it’s a spat between two brothers on whoever inherits the house their dad built, I’ll side with whoever I like more as a person and whoever offers more coin. But if someone’s offering me three million bits to stand guard while he molests three young girls in a dungeon, I’ll cut that fuckers head off in a second without one of thought. I’m morally ambiguous, not pure evil.”

“Good to know,” Aleksandra nodded. “So to get you to side with me, all I need do is give you a sufficient pay and a kind smile for you to help me?”

“That’s bringing it down to brass tacks,” I said with a hand gesture. “But that’s essentially it, yes.”

“So what’s Verella offering you?” she asked.

“Money and something of my choosing,” I answered.

“So what would you say if I were to prove to you that I was the rightful heir of the vampire throne, as well as offering to pay you with more money than she’s offering, a castle in my kingdom, a Vampiric Knighthood, armour that belonged to one of our greatest warriors as well as his weapons, a horse, a pet dog, and my body to do so with as you wish?”

“You can drop the the castle, the armour, the weapon, the horse, and the dog,” I responded. “I’d be happy with the money, the weapons, the knighthood, and getting to fuck you.”

“Then shall I inform you of the truth?” she asked. “And allow you a trial of my body?”

“I’m more than interested now,” I nodded. “Then you can explain to me this whole deal with Verella wanting to turn me into a baby factory.”

“Anything you wish, Richter,” she nodded. “As long as it helps you make the right choice.”