RP:Safe at Last

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After his battle with the strange, worm-like creature, Krice crawls out of the Underdark toward Vailkrin. The price for his self-gained freedom is high; wounds litter his entire body. Before he can even step foot into The Dark City, he loses his struggle with the fog of battle and falls unconscious in the adjoining cave. Vampires catch wind of his unusually pure scent and fight each other for dibs, unaware that Lita and Chio have coincidentally found the man they were looking for...

Path Into the Earth

Krice was unconscious at the entrance to Vailkrin, after having struggled his way up from the depths of the earth; several corpses were strewn far away from him deeper into the Underdark, indications pointing to him as their killer. He was on his side, covered in blood that was at least half his own, as well as dried saliva of some description, and littered with injuries; most of them were days old, but a three-claw gash across the left side of his face from brow to jaw wept as it was still healing, and fresh blood was oozing from a through-and-through stab wound in his right side below his ribs, and two less severe cuts were across his left thigh and his right shoulder. All of these injuries, coupled with the oppression of being held captive for two weeks, tripled with being stuck in darkness and surrounded by violence for nearly -three- weeks, and quadrupled with having to fight for his life every single day of those three weeks, ensured that the warrior was utterly spent. Over him crouched a tall, slim vampire dressed in black and red leathers. Though it was never a comfortable thing, entering the Underdark, smelling this meal was too difficult to ignore and he ventured to the entrance. Behind him, two other vampires lay dead. Had they fought over the warrior? Whatever the case, he held Krice's right forearm in his grasp and raised it to his lips, fangs bared.

Lita was not the woman she had been a day before. Time passed differently in the Underdark. In a world without light, without a measurement for time. What had been a matter of days felt like weeks and she'd found nothing of Krice save whispers of a warrior who had freed a band of slaves. Chio found her days after he had left and it took her a while to find the memory of him. But he knew the way to the surface and she followed. She could smell him before she saw him. Somewhere in the distance. The memory of him made the hair at the back of her neck bristle, every cell in her body suddenly hungry. Hunger. When had she eaten last? It didn't matter. The want was blinding, a burning white image behind her eyes and she was sprinting towards an exit, towards a semblance of fresh air and open spaces. Chio was on her heel, growling at something but her brain hadn't registered what yet. She could see in the darkness, well enough to move swiftly through the last yards of the tunnel, the pitter-patter of bare feet and paws quiet, breaths steady. Their communication was unspoken. Lita bent slightly as the vampire lifted its head to catch sight her coming and her left elbow collided with the side of his jaw, her arm twisting to encircle his neck as she dragged him away from the warrior by his head. Chio remained, a reverent guard, antsy on his feet as he watched Lita and bent his head to lick Krice's uninjured cheek. The vampire was clawing at her arm, sputtering and hissing at her, part shock and part anger as he scrabbled to get his feet beneath him. She dragged him a few yards away from Krice before slamming his body against the dirt, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He moved to stand and she struck her right heel down against his forearm, just below the elbow, rendering his left arm useless as the crack of bone reverberated through her. A little smile tugged at the corner of her lips with the sensation. He was yelling up at her. The words might have been coherent but she didn't want to hear them. Instead she crouched down beside him, letting her left knee rest against his abdomen. His free hand was pushing at her knee and she leaned her weight against his chest. He was stronger than her, probably older. In a fluid motion she drew the dagger from its sheath at her right thigh, reached out to hold his hand against the ground and then leaned forward and plunged the dagger into the flesh of his wrist. The blade sliced through skin and muscle, sliding between the bones as the hilt nestled itself between tendons and the tip of the blade found dirt. There was spit at the corner of the vampire's mouth as she turned the blade, slowly, forty-five degrees until the wound looked as if it were trying to close around the handle of the knife. Only when his fingers stopped twitching did she lean back enough to look down at him. Short dark hair, beady eyes. He didn't look familiar but she recognized the hunger. She traced a slender finger along the line of his jaw, staring down at him, trying to remember. There was a time when she might have left him live. Now, like tiring of a toy, she touched her fingers to either sides of his face and with one quick jerk to the left, snapped his neck. She stayed there for a beat, watching the light leave his eyes. Or whatever the equivalent was for a vampire. If Krice was conscious, he might notice the dirt and dried blood that cover her legs, arms and neck, some sort of pseudo camouflage. It probably wasn't all hers.

Krice wasn't conscious. He was an unreliable witness to the violence of Lita's wrath, unresponsive even to the wet surface of Chip's tongue as he licked his ground-facing cheek. The warrior's heartbeat was slow but steady, indicating life sustained but only barely. He needed to sleep, needed to heal, needed to get the hell out of this god forsaken pit.

Lita was aware that Krice was at least breathing. Alive. Which was enough. As gently as she could, she lifted the warrior to his feet, moving one of his arms around her shoulders as she wrapped an arm around his middle to keep him upright. "Chio." she muttered under breath with a nod forward. The hound would stalk ahead of them, warn of further dangers. All she could hope now was that the stench of the Underdark and the vampire's blood mixed with the dried drow's blood on her would hide the scent of him as she carried him through Vailkrin towards the old abandoned shack. It would be the safest place in a den of vampires. It was abandoned now, long since and it would offer a safe place to rest a while.

Krice didn't seem even on the verge of waking, so as Lita carried him through Vailkrin, his long legs dragging given his height, he was limp and unmoving, and silent. Only his blood served as sign that he was ever there, and even so, it was mostly masked by the camouflaging scents with which Lita had covered herself. The trip to that abandoned shack was a relatively smooth one, with only the occasional dark creature staring at the traveling trio, more out of curiosity than hunger.

Chio made sure that most curious parties lost interest fairly quickly. Bared fangs, a growl, a snarl. Those that might not be phased by the beast turned away once Lita paused and turned her attentions towards them, lips pulling back from her teeth in warning. She'd pause, adjust her arm around Krice's middle and then continue on once she was sure they weren't being followed.