Vampiric Potionmaker - Ch. 4: I Like Vampy

Her accuser was a prim and proper housewife; tall, slender, with the eye-bags of a marine. She looked like she hadn't slept in centuries, much less years. Standing next to her was her short and plump husband, dressed to the nines in a workman’s uniform. He was green, somehow, the color of broccoli, and had long, horizontal ears.

“Who are you calling a vampire?” Nara said, insulted. “You’re the one with the green husband.”

The woman gasped.

“How dare you,” she seethed.

To Nara’s surprise, her husband just frowned, looking a bit sad.

“Okay, my bad, that wasn’t called for,” Nara said, feeling suddenly guilty. She didn’t expect him to look so dejected about it. “Green is a fine color to be.”

“Your apologies aren’t required,” the green man said, turning to his wife. “Gertrude, you can’t just go around throwing accusations of vampirism like that at people. You know as well as I do that a nightwalker can’t be walking around in the day, drinking water from a well no less.”

The woman harrumphed, waving around a hand-fan. The weather wasn’t particularly hot – it was chilly, even – so it seemed to be exclusively for dramatic effect. Nara could respect that, in any other circumstance but this one.

“So I made a hasty judgment, oh dear, woe is me,” Gertrude said, in a way where it was clearly not an apology. “It still does not excuse her flagrant trespassing on our property. I'm of half a mind to call the city guard.”

“The woman was clearly dehydrated, Gertie. What do we own a watering well for anyway if we can’t feed the thirsty? She’s quenched now, so she’ll be on her way, won’t you?”

The green man gave her a pleading look. Nara could tell he was doing her a solid, so she quickly nodded. The woman crossed her arms, gave her another judgmental once-over, and then turned on her heel. Nara took that as a signal that she was allowed to get out of her face.

“My thanks,” Nara whispered to him. He just laughed.

“You probably should do something about that skin condition of yours, though,” he said. “If it wasn’t for the sun nearly blazing us to death, I’d take out my crossbow and shoot ya on sight.”

He gave her a thumbs up.

Nara laughed nervously.

—

So, takeaway number one – there was no way she was spending another second in Lopa Lopa.

The sun was going down faster than she liked, and if she was already getting clocked during the daylight, sundown was going to be another trial entirely. She needed a place to stay overnight where no one would go looking, especially not anyone with a crossbow.

She briefly considered stealing an outfit from one of the market stalls and trying to get another room at the inn, but Donna seemed smarter than that. Plus, she still had no medieval money.

Out of options, Nara settled on the obvious: the city was surrounded by forest. She didn’t love the idea of spending the night out in the woods with no tent, no food, no water, and no idea what was awaiting her, but it didn’t look like she had any other option.

The prospect didn’t scare her as much as it would scare most suburban-raised girls. Growing up in a camper van meant a lot of running out of fuel in Nowheresville, USA, subsisting only off of potentially poisonous berries, Walmart preserves, and firewood. Her family had the advantage of the van, but the locations they broke down in were often a lot worse than some measly woodlands.

Confident in her decision, she snuck her way out of town and into the thickets. A dirt trail was laid out for the first mile – one of those trails that didn’t exist because people meant it to, but formed out of the hundreds of feet laying into it every day. Eroded and eroded until a proper pathway was formed, guiding the wayward traveler.

It was Nara's favorite kind of path. It meant you were headed somewhere important.

But importance wasn't crucial to her right now. She just needed a place to sleep, maybe a plant to eat. The familiar scents of the forest nearly made her forget just how far from home she really was. Mildew and moss, fur and manure. She let her hands drag across the trees, feeling the bark under her fingernails. This was home, she thought, letting every anxious thought recede into the backdrop of the forest’s soundtrack.

Then, of course, because she could never just enjoy something – she felt a punch straight to her gut.

Warning! Thirst levels have reached 40%

You have become Parched

Status Effects:

Sluggish – Your movement speed is decreased by 35%

Lightheaded – You get tired more easily, and need to take more breaks than usual

The status effects slammed into her like a freight train. A migraine sprouted in her skull. Her legs became weak, exhausted like she had just run a half-marathon. Even her arms felt heavier. She couldn’t lift them above her head for more than a second at a time.

“Are you serious?” she groaned. “Even if I wanted to drink blood, there's nothing around here with any.”

As if the Gods were taunting her, she heard a rustling behind the trees. Bunnies skipped out and away, fleeing as if they were being chased by something. Lizards and frogs, too, skidded straight past her. It was like an animal kingdom highway, and Nara was the roadblock they didn’t care to pay attention to.

“I’m not going to drink animal blood,” she said defiantly, talking to no one in particular. “That’s just a level I will not stoop to. Torment me all you want, you stupid system.”

On cue – another faint rustling in the bushes. Nara rolled her eyes, but quickly lost her ability to breathe as a giant, nearly comically large greatsword extended from behind the trees. It shined in the midday sun, glittering like it was sharpened and sheened just minutes before.

The animals had indeed been running from something – or rather, someone. That someone was decorated in the darkest armor Nara had ever seen, nearly obsidian in color. It explained why she hadn’t seen the woman coming – the plate metal swallowed light whole.

The figure stepped out from behind the bush, armor creaking as it came into the light.

“No animal blood? That’s reassuring,” it said. To Nara’s surprise, the voice was low and female. Young, too, couldn’t be much older than herself. “But I’m not an animal. Does that mean you're going to eat me?”

Crap. Crap. Crap. Huge sword woman. Act cool.

“Depends,” Nara said, her voice trembling as she fixed her eyes to the tip of the sword. “Are you going to kill me first?”

“Depends,” the woman said. She sounded almost… amused? “Are you really a vampire? I’ve never seen one of your kind walking around in the broad daylight. Or swear themselves off of animal blood. Or get jumpscared by a rabbit. Are you some kind of strange, daywalking vegan variation?”

Nara laughed in disbelief. Seeing that her throat had not been cut wide open, she took her chances. She assumed her usually indignant position – propping her hands on her hips and upturning her head. She was not going to be talked down to by anyone, even if they looked like some kind of cartoon villainess.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am. Is that so weird?”

“Spectacularly weird.”

Nara narrowed her eyes. She raised her hand to the tip of the blade, pushing it backwards slightly. It was a bold move - but she had made it this far.

“Are you going to put that sword down, or am I going to have to stare down the hilt of that ridiculous play toy all day?”

The woman paused for a moment, and then laughed – genuinely laughed. The effect of it was still tinny and far away due to her helmet, but relieved Nara to hear regardless.

With her free hand, the woman lifted her face shield. Her skin was pale, pretty, freckled. It made Nara’s stomach turn in a way that wasn’t totally unpleasant. Of course, that could have been due to the undying thirst for blood she had just recently become acquainted with. Either or.

“What’s your name?” the woman asked.

“Wow, thank you. That’s the first time someone here has asked me that,” Nara said, annoyed. “The conversation has typically begun and ended with shit, shit, it’s a vampire!”

“That’s a really long name,” the woman said, feigning innocence. “Mind if I shorten it? Could go with shit-shit. Or just vampire. Vampy? I like Vampy.”

Nara’s glare intensified.

“I don’t like Vampy. Nara. My name’s Nara.”

The woman smiled. It was a little bit devious, a little bit kind.

“Nara,” she said, rolling the syllables around her mouth until it stuck. “Nice name. I still like Vampy, though.”

“Not gonna happen. And yours?”

“Alessia,” she said, and extended her free hand. “Monster Hunter.”