Warden of Darkness (Dragon Age/World of Darkness)

[TyrantTriumphant]

Though it longer than they might have wished, eventually the Wardens found their way out of the wilds and back to Ostagar, though a little worse for wear.

Daveth had suffered a fairly nasty concussion from hitting his head on a tree, Jack was still missing his tongue, and the other two were still . . . processing recent events.

Jack figured it would take them a while.

Though the mission could have gone better on certain fronts, namely Jack’s utter humiliation and loss of his tongue, not to mention the divulging of several clan secrets, it could have gone worse too.

In the end, he had accomplished his main goal, the retrieval of the darkspawn blood and the Grey Warden treaties.

In time Jack’s tongue would grow back and the shame would fade. But the secrets he’s been forced to give up would be far more problematic.

His companions were already giving him sideways glances. Jack new that they considering what the witch had said, wondering if he was safe to keep around.

They would have been fools not to.

Not to mention the rest of what that old crone had revealed. That the Antediluvians had been here. That they had fought a war with something here.

And that those unknown creatures had won against the clan progenitors.

Assuming it was true, and Jack wasn’t naïve enough to take the witch at her word, it raised lot of unsettling questions.

Did they sire any progeny before they left? Are did any of those survive? Did Jack’s blatant actions just break some sort of local masquerade?

Or maybe, the Antediluvians were still here.

Well, not Ennoia, but the other ones. It could be that they had been hiding away here this whole time, safe from the hungry jaws of their childer.

His arrival could have even woken them up. Who knows, Jack be the one responsible for releasing Gehenna.

This whole situation was madness.

But giving in to paranoia would be even more insane.

Jack had experienced first-hand the madness Antediluvian’s memory could inspire in their descendants. Prince Roy, Regent Gavin, Sheriff Medici, and the entire Sabbat stood as testimony to that.

It really did put the Inner Council’s decision to lie about the Antediluvians in a different perspective.

Not that Jack wasn’t bitter about that, he was. But he could understand it. Even agree with it to an extent.

It would be hard to argue that his personal experiences hadn’t influenced his decision to remain in the Camarilla.

But none of that mattered right now. Even if any of this madness was true Jack lacked the capacity to effect it in any way.

It was best to let sleeping Antediluvians lie.

At the moment his only concern was Duncan and the Joining.

And so, after a quick delivery to the kennel-master Jack made his way over to Duncan’s campfire.

______________________________________________________________

Duncan was standing exactly where Jack had left him, starring into his fire with a look of such profound intensity that the man probably had to practice that facial expression in the mirror.

Upon seeing the returning recruits, Duncan left his fireside vigil and went to greet them. “So, you return from the Wilds. Have you been successful?”

It was a fair question. One which Jack would have been inclined to answer if he had a tongue. Though seeing as he did not, he simply growled.

Alistair stepped to the front of the group. “Yes, they have. And try to forgive Jack. He decided to bite out his own tongue on the way back.”

Duncan blinked in surprise. “What? Why would he do that?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Alistair deadpanned. “The treaties were in the possession of some apostates. A woman and her mother. But when the older one saw Jack she just went unhinged. She started ranting about how his race were worse than the Darkspawn.

"Then she used some sort of magic to force him to tell his secrets. He bit out his own tongue rather than give them up.”

Duncan frowned. “That is unexpected. He had told me that he believed he was the first of his race to set foot in Thedas.” He glanced at Jack to which the vampire just shrugged in response.

“Unexpected as this may be, it does not change our purpose. This can all be investigated after the blight is dealt with. But for now, our first priority are the darkspawn. We shall proceed with the joining as planned. Alistair, take them to the old temple.”

_____________________________________________________

“At last we come to the Joining.” Duncan said as he began the ceremony.

And it was about damn time too. If Jack had to listen to any more Jory’s bitching or about Daveth’s hero complex he swore he was going to rip out his own ears.

Because really, what right did Jory have to complain that joining the Grey Wardens was a stupid decision? At least he had a choice.

Jack had never chosen his own destiny. From his embrace, to his exile, to his appointment as the Prince’s scourge, Jack’s decisions had always been made by others. To have this idiot whine about problems that were entirely his fault seemed disgustingly entitled.

“The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation.” Duncan continued.

“So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint.”

Jory blanched. “We're... going to drink the blood of those... those creatures?”

“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you.” Duncan affirmed. “This is the source of our power and our victory.”

“Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon.” Alistair said.

“Not all who drink the blood will survive and those who do are forever changed. This is why the Joining is a secret. It is the price we pay.” Said Duncan.

“We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?”

Alistair stepped forward and bowed his head. “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you.”

Duncan raised a goblet full of darkspawn blood. “Daveth, step forward.”

Daveth obeyed and brought the cup to his lips. Several seconds later he bowled over in pain and began to scream.

“I am sorry, Daveth.” Was all Duncan could say as his first recruit died.

“Step forward, Jory.” Jory did not obey. Instead, the idiot decided to pull a blade on Duncan. Naturally enough, Duncan killed him for it. And there was one recruit left.

He handed the cup to Tanner, saying, “You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good.”

Jack drank. It tasted kind of like normal darkspawn blood, but a bit more refined, if that made sense.

But it didn’t change him.

After all, how could it? Jack was dead. The taint could only affect the living. Unless . . .

Duncan had noticed the Cainite’s lack of reaction and began to frown. Jack held up a hand to signal the Warden to wait.

Because Jack had an idea.

Most substances that affected humans couldn’t affect Cainites.

Unless they were in the bloodstream of a human.

And Daveth’s body was very fresh.

Jack walked up to Daveth’s body and plunged his fangs into the corpse’s neck. As he drained the body, he could feel something new coursing through his veins.

They burned like molten lead, the pain only increasing until the vampire passed out.

They thing he remembered was Duncan’s voice saying, “From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden.”

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

What exactly happened to Cainites when they rested for the day or went into torpor had always been a bit of a mystery, even to the Cainites themselves. They didn’t sleep as such, and certainly didn’t dream, the Week of Nightmares notwithstanding. And yet it was undeniable that their streams of consciousness did persist in some form while at rest.

Methuselahs directed their servants even while in torpor and the Antediluvians shook the world from the depths of their slumber.

How this occurred was unknown. But it did not change the fact that Cainites did not dream.

And so, Jack Tanner dreamed.



Jack bit his lip as he pressed the blade of his shovel into the dirt under the watchful eye of his sire.

If he hadn’t known the purpose behind it, he might have almost welcomed the distraction from his newly dead body. The breeze on his face felt dulled somehow, like his body was numbed. His skin was sickly pale.

And he was hungry in ways he’d never been before.

But he continued to dig.

Dirt flew and Jack dug until he hit flesh and winced at the sound of metal against meat.

He barely noticed the wetness on his cheeks as he shoveled the dirt off of the body buried beneath him.

The digging stopped when he uncovered the pale face of the torpid creature he was exhuming.

Emilia Tanner.

His mother.

Jack turned to his sire, Caitlin Murray, and said, “I did what you asked. Just get it over with.”

Caitlin smiled down at him. She was the most terrifying thing Jack had ever encountered. She didn’t look it though, not at first.

At first glance she appeared to be fairly attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with curly red hair and innocent girlish features.

That same woman had torn apart the monsters that had kidnapped him and his family with ridiculous ease.

Shortly followed by his father and younger sister when they rose from their graves.

“Good work childe.” Caitlin said. “Now,” She tossed a knife to the side of the grave. “Destroy this shovelhead.”

Jack’s jaw dropped. “I though you were going to . . . deal with this. You can’t expect me kill my own family!”

Caitlin shook her head. “No little fledgling. I’m your family.” She stated in a motherly tone. “Your connection with them died when they were turned by the Sabbat. You need to understand that.

"When I saw you fight back, when you struggled to survive when your parents and sibling stood like sheep and accepted their fates, I saw something special in you. That’s why I saved you from the mass embrace and changed you into something greater.

"And I can take that away.

"Now I need you to prove you are worthy of the gift I gave you and to cut your ties from the mortal cattle.

"Take that knife and saw off your mother’s head. And if you don’t, I will destroy you and do it myself.

"And after you’re done, dig up the other three and do the same to them.”



Blood surged through Jack’s veins as the Cainite woke from his slumber.

He snarled as soon as air entered his lungs, shame and self-loathing fueling his enraged shriek.

After his embrace, Jack had thrown himself into vampiric society with a passion, discarding almost all ties to humanity in his effort to forget his former life.

And it had worked.

Jack hadn’t even thought about his old family in over a year. Enforcing the Camarilla’s will and fighting against the Sabbat had become his entire life.

Especially fighting the Sabbat. Jack Tanner still hated the Sabbat.

And as the lost memories of his family swirled through the Cainite’s mind, he wondered why.

If he had truly discarded his ties to humanity, then what reason did he have for a personal grudge against the Sword of Caine?

Notwithstanding their constant attempts to kill him, they had never done anything particularly notable to him since his embrace.

Certainly not in comparison to his fellow Camarilla.

He knew that he didn’t care about his old family, but the thought of their deaths still brought him grief.

They had died as soon as the Sabbat sank their fangs into them. There was nothing to be done about it. Really, what he did was a mercy.

It was undoubtably the moral decision.

Yet Jack’s memory of that act revolted the Gangrel to his core.

This whole situation was wrong. Cainites had no business feeling this way. The deaths of cattle were nothing to a creature like him.

His sire had warned him against this kind of madness. Caitlin had said that eventually all Cainites who stayed too close to humanity would tear themselves apart from their internal struggles.

He hadn’t really believed her, but she hadn’t minded. Apparently, that was all part of the natural cycle.

Caitlin had been confident that in time he would come crawling back to her and beg to be enlightened from his mortal weaknesses.

That, like her, he would wish leave humanity behind and travel the Path of Harmony.

And that smug bitch had been right.

Jack tore himself off of the ground, looking for something to take out his anger on. The Wardens were nowhere to be seen, the old temple empty except for him and one terrified guard.

He walked up to the guard and demanded, “Where are the other Wardens, human? Why was I left alone here?”

The guard gulped loudly before answering. “The, um, other Wardens weren’t sure if you would wake up. They had a meeting with the king so they left me to tell them if you recovered. They should have finished by now so I’ll just go and let them know milord.”

With that, the soldier scuttled off in the direction of the Warden’s camp leaving Tanner to himself.

“Damn it.” Jack thought to himself, “Nothing about this place makes sense. If that stuff I drank was just darkspawn blood, it shouldn’t have affected me. I sucked of few of those things dry and it was fine.

Grief and shame continued to swirl within him, to an extent he hadn’t felt since his embrace.

It was . . . positively unnatural.

“Fuck this.” Jack thought. “I don’t know whether that blood I drank did something to me, or if this is just my human weakness bubbling up. The only thing I do know is that whoever’s responsible for this is going to pay.”

Snarling at the empty air, Jack stalked off in search of Duncan.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

The king’s camp was full of activity as Jack walked through it. Soldiers went frantically about their duties, chantry mothers gave prayers, and defenses were prepared.

It looked like the battle would be starting soon.

Jack briefly wondered how long he’d been out for, but quickly dismissed the thought.

He had better things to think about.

By this point, his grief and shame had receded leaving only anger behind.

Not just at what the joining had made him feel, but at the sheer presumption of a human having done it.

It had been one thing to be made to dream by an Antediluvian. Those beings could do as they pleased.

But for a human to do it? The very thought made Jack’s blood boil.

He’d been willing to work for one for a time, but that was always going to be temporary.

But this crossed a line.

And the Grey Warden camp was in sight. Duncan seemed to be gone, but Alistair was still here. He’d have to do.

Jack marched up to Alistair and demanded, “Why was I not informed about the side effects of the Joining?”

Alistair looked blankly at him before responding, “How did you get your tongue back?”

“Wait, what?”

“You bit out your own tongue. And now it's back.” Alistair said. “How in the Maker’s name did you do that?”

Jack frowned. “My species can heal from a lot. It does take a bit of getting used to. But what’s really important is that you didn’t tell me that I would dream after the Joining. As a matter of fact you didn’t tell me anything about the Joining.”

“Yes, I had terrible dreams after my Joining.” Alistair said. “And it is custom not to speak to outsiders about the Joining. Far fewer would volunteer if they knew what happened after that.”

“I don’t care!” Jack snapped back. “My species do not dream. We are dead. The dead do not dream. But after your little joining I did. I demand an explanation.”

Jack barred his fangs and snarled, “Where the hell is Duncan?”

Alistair rolled his eyes. “Well you see, there’s this Darkspawn army about to attack, and the king asked Duncan really nicely if he could do something about it. So, he’s a little busy right now.

"We on the other hand, have something else to do. When the Darkspawn are fully engaged, the king will alert us to light the beacon in the Tower of Ishal, so that Loghain’s men will know when to charge.”

He shrugged. “I was hopping to fight in the battle, but we have our orders. I’m sure Duncan will be thrilled to hear whatever complaints you have after the battle.”

Jack glowered back. One hand he wasn’t exactly disappointed that he would be missing the battle. After all, it’s not like he cared about Ferelden.

On the other hand, he was not happy about Duncan finding a reason to excuse himself.

“Fine.” Jack said. “But this isn’t the end of this. After the battle I’m going to have my answers.”

________________________________________________________________________

The battle began soon.

As for what Jack thought about it, well, he didn’t feel he was truly qualified to judge.

He may have had experience fighting against the Sabbat and mortal hunters, but the Gangrel was well aware that this did not translate to experience on a traditional battlefield.

The battle for New York hadn’t really been a battle as such, more like series of raids and counter insurgencies. The clash of armies against armies was entirely new to him.

Still, he was able to take something from the experience. As he tore across the Ostagar bridge, Jack became aware that the Darkspawn were smart enough to construct and maintain siege equipment.

Largely because they were currently pelting his position with flaming boulders.

Which seemed a poor indicator for how the battle was going. While the Darkspawn were engaged with the king’s army, and Loghain could some damage from a flank attack, there were also a lot of darkspawn. Perhaps enough for Loghain’s troops not to make a difference.

“Really, it’s just good that I’m not on the front lines.” Jack thought, as he dodged another boulder.

Regardless, the bridge was crossed and the tower of Ishal was in sight.

It was not quite what Jack had been expecting. Namely that its garrison was currently fleeing their posts while being pursued by Darkspawn.

Because, as Jack learned after cornering a fleeing soldier, the Darkspawn had burrowed up from under the earth, and currently occupied the entire tower.

Apparently Loghain hadn’t considered that a race known for living underground and being good at digging might use their main mode of transportation in battle.

Really, Jack should have expected something like this. It was about par for the course for this stupid planet.

Alistair immediately demanded that they all barrel through the front doors and light the beacon themselves.

Jack had other ideas.

“What in Andraste’s name are you doing?” Alistair demanded. “We need to go light the beacon, and you’re playing around with rope?”

“Nope.” Jack stretched out a piece of rope he had salvaged from some siege equipment. “I’m testing a rope, and it appears to be in great condition. Now tie this end around your waist. I don’t want you fall off.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jack said, “One of the rules I’ve set for myself is that I do not assault entrenched positions. I’ve seen better people than me die that way.

"The darkspawn have shown themselves to be fully capable of building and using fortifications, and seem quite fond of using ambushes. Often with fire.

"Considering the darkspawn have had a fair amount of time to fortify their positions, lay traps, and how defensible that tower is, I’m not going though the front doors.”

Jack tied one end of the rope around his neck. “So, I’m going to climb up the tower. My protean claws should be able carve out handholds without any difficulty.

"Keep in mind the alternative to this is attacking the darkspawn by yourself. So, feel free to take whatever path you choose.”

Jack smirked. “I’m sure Duncan will be thrilled to hear whatever complaints you have after the battle.”

Alistair winced.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Jack grimaced in pain; hands wrapped around the spear sticking out of his chest.

Really, the whole plan had started out so well. Alistair hadn’t even put up that much of a fuss when he was hauled up the tower.

Well, if you didn’t count the screaming and begging to be let down, but besides that.

Jack’s claws had torn into the rock, and while a heavily armored Alistair wasn’t exactly a light burden, Jack’s vampiric strength had managed the weight.

It was after they’d reached the top that things started to go wrong.

The room had appeared to be empty, so Jack dragged up Alistair and ordered him to light the beacon.

As soon as he had done so, a massive ogre came out of the lower chamber and slammed Jack into the wall.

It died eventually. Blunt force damage did little to Jack’s fortitude hardened skin, while his own claws carved through the monster’s skin like it was butter.

But more darkspawn came.

Individually, they couldn’t do much to him.

But a horde of darkspawn?

It was simple math.

And without Loghain’s reinforcements, there was no point in running, the darkspawn were everywhere.

Though Jack had killed many darkspawn before falling, he still fell.

As a wooden spear pierced his heart and he fell unconscious for the second time in one night, Jack Tanner cursed Duncan, the darkspawn, and Thedas itself for causing him such misery.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Awareness returned to Jack as the wooden shaft was torn out of his heart. As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Flemeth looking down at him like something she scraped off her shoe.

“You see Warden?” She said to Alistair who was watching with a shocked expression. “I told you he wasn’t dead. Well, no more dead than usual. Wood through the heart just leaves them paralyzed.”

“But how is that possible?” Alistair asked. “Nothing can survive with their heart pierced. It’s just not natural.”

“And you’ve just figured that out, have you?” Flemeth said. “If you’re surprised by this than you just haven’t been paying attention.”

She glared at Jack. “As for you Cainite, isn’t it traditional to thank someone for saving your life? At least you can stop gaping like a beached fish.”

Jack winced as he picked a stray arrow out of his chest. Apparently Flemeth hadn’t bothered to remove any of the other weapons lodged inside him.

“Why? Why would you save me? You didn’t seem particularly fond of my kind the last time we talked.”

Flemeth laughed. “Is it impossible to believe that I did it out of the kindness of my heart?”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, it is. Powerful people don’t do kindness. It’s how they get powerful. Now what do you want?”

“What do I want?” Flemeth growled back. “What I want is for a Thedas free of your disgusting breed of parasites.”

She sighed. “But that is no longer possible. After our meeting I felt is necessary to see if the taint of vampirism had spread elsewhere. And it has. Orlais is infested with Lasombra.”

Well shit. Jack didn’t know what Orlais was but he damn well knew the Lasombra.

Back in New York, the Lasombra had pretty much run the Sabbat. There were still Tzimisce running around the sewers and antitribu filth doing the grunt work, but all decisions began and ended with the Clan of Night.

Also, he knew that a pack of Lasombra had been the ones to kill his mortal family.

Suffice to say that Jack’s opinion the Lasombra was not high. Really the only benefit to being stuck in Thedas had been that he didn’t have deal with them anymore.

So much for that.

“Well,” Jack said. “Thanks for informing me. I’m going to go back to hiding in the Brecilian Forrest. Have fun with the Sabbat.”

“What!” Alistair demanded. “You’re just going to abandon us? You made an oath when you joined the Grey Wardens. It would be spitting on Duncan’s memory!”

Jack simply shrugged. “I joined the Wardens because they offered me something useful. I had always planned to leave when their usefulness ended. That time just happened to be sooner than I had expected.”

He sighed. “Look Alistair,” he said. “This isn’t my home and your people are not my people. The fate of Ferelden doesn’t really matter to me. Perhaps if these darkspawn were invading my homeland I might be tempted to help, but as it is? I have no reason to put my life on the line.”

Alistair looked furious but Flemeth just smirked.

“That’s were you’re wrong Cainite. Tell me, how did that archdemon blood go down? Did it not settle as well as you’d hoped?

“I hadn’t known precisely what it would do, but I had a pretty good idea. I could see the black veins in your aura the moment I laid eyes on you. While the joining wouldn’t have much effect on a normal Cainite, it would deeply scar one with multiple souls. The kind of condition that only comes through an unsuccessful diablerie.”

Wait, what?

“Tell me, have felt different since you devoured another Cainite? Personality changes, foreign memories, of perhaps an increase in intelligence?”

What the hell was that old bat talking about? Jack’s sire had told him that sometimes diablerie could have strange side effects, but that was the sort of thing that happened to crazy Sabbat, not him.

Besides, Jack hadn’t felt anything like she was describing.

Or not much of it.

At least since not since he’d been put on trial for the diablerie of prince Roy Vannier.



Oh.



Damn.



“What exactly are you implying?” Jack growled back.

“I’m not implying anything.” Flemeth answered. “I’m stating that as a result of the archdemon’s connection to your soul, both of them, your mind is going to tear itself apart.”

She chuckled. “I wonder how it will happen. Will your souls fight each other for dominance, foverever struggling for the same body? Will you fall to wassail? Perhaps even some stranger fate. I could stop it, but as you said, the powerful do not indulge in kindness.”

If Jack was still capable of sweating, he would be. This whole outlandish scenario was actually plausible. For all he knew that witch could be telling the truth. Diablerie could to some screwed up things, and combine that with freaky mortal magic and the potential for weirdness was limitless.

Still, best to keep cool for now and see what the witch wanted.

“Alright.” Jack ground out. “Let’s say I believe you. What do you want?”

“As it happens, I need the darkspawn taken care of and you are a Grey Warden, whether you like it or not. Simply take care of the archdemon and I will heal your soul.” The witch sneered at the Cainite, seemingly exultant in her victory. “Does this seem fair to you?”

Not particularly. Though it would have been quite the novel experience if it had been. Doing suicidal tasks for powerful assholes could pretty much sum up Jack’s last two years.

Still, if there was even a chance that Prince Roy’s soul could somehow take over Jack’s body, this stupid mission was worth the risk.

The blood bond had been bad enough, but cohabiting a body with his tormenter would be worse.

Before Jack could answer Flemeth, something seemed to occur to her and she resumed speaking. “And one other thing. My information on your kind is somewhat antiquated, so I am going to need you to tell me about this “Sabbat” that is causing such a stir in Orlais.

"I know you don’t wish to betray your kin, but surely this doesn’t extend to the children of Lasombra? Would you truly be opposed to harming them?”

Honestly, Jack wouldn’t. As long as it didn’t harm the Camarilla or Clan Gangrel, any opportunity to screw over the Sabbat was fine with him.

And seeing as the masquerade didn’t really apply here, there was no reason not to agree to this.

Though he took pains not to mention the Antediluvians in his explanation, Jack was honest about the utter monstrosity of the Sabbat. He sparred no details of their atrocities, fanaticism, and utter contempt for humankind.

Perhaps a little to honest. Alistair, who for some reason stuck around to listen, ran out of the clearing and vomited halfway through a description of a Festivo dello Estinto festival that Jack and his coterie had raided.

Even Flemeth looked a little green for that.

Regardless, Flemeth got what she needed, and after some discussion with Alistair about possible allies against the darkspawn, ordered the Wardens to take her daughter with them on their journey.

And so, Jack left the wilds behind to begin the long task of saving the world, and more importantly, himself.

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

Well, that confirms what has been hinted at by previous entries: Jack is not what one would call a good person. Considering the environment he unlived in, and what he did so far, not surprising.

I'm surprised news traveled so fast from Orlais. Then again, the Sabbath are not exactly subtle, held only back by fear of reprisal of modern tech humanity. And for all their faillings, they do seem to loathe the idea of royality.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Well, that confirms what has been hinted at by previous entries: Jack is not what one would call a good person. Considering the environment he unlived in, and what he did so far, not surprising.

Jack is currently on humanity level 4. He is not pointlessly cruel, but he is certainly not a good person.

I'm surprised news traveled so fast from Orlais. Then again, the Sabbath are not exactly subtle, held only back by fear of reprisal of modern tech humanity.

It's not so much that news is fast as that Flemeth is fast. She can turn into a giant magical dragon. She can move really quickly when she wants to.

And for all their faillings, they do seem to loathe the idea of royality.

Oh yes. The Lasombra are all about the idea that the strongest should rise to the top. The idea that someone should hold a position regardless of their merits is near heresy to them.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

For the most part, Jack Tanner preferred to work alone. Sometimes that was impossible, but often enough you could get a job done without relying on others.

This was not one of those times.

“Goddamn it Alistair, shut up!”

Relying on others always came with problems. Namely that everyone has their own interests, and when those interests inevitably come at cross purposes, it is usually followed by betrayal, murder, and costly lawsuits.

“No, I will not shut up. How can you just stand here and act like this is normal?”

Still, Jack had enough experience in working with other people to recognize when a group was likely to fail and when it was it was likely to succeed.

“Look I understand that you are somewhat disturbed by my previous act of cannibalism. I assure you that is not considered acceptable in civilized Cainite society. In fact, the people judging my trial for said cannibalism were quite clear on that. Right before they declared my cannibalism legal.”

After over a day of traveling and nonstop bickering, Jack was positive that this was going to be the most cohesive and productive team he’d ever been on.

That probably said a lot more about his previous teams than his current one.

“It’s not just about that!” Alistair snapped at Jack. “You told us that you were from some strange race from another continent. And it turns out your entire “race” are just a bunch of abominations.”

“No.” Jack replied. “I implied that I was from a somewhat normal species that had children naturally. I never said it outright. If you’re too dumb to figure the truth out on your own than that’s your problem.”

Alistair had not been happy when Morrigan told him what Cainites really were. Apparently Flemeth had given her a crash course after they met for the first time.

“Say Morrigan,” Jack said. “Your mother gave you the basics about Cainites, right? You don’t suppose you could tell Alistair that we’re not really abominations?”

“He is correct Alistair.” Morrigan answered. “Cainites are not abominations, at least that is what mother informed me.”

“Thank you Morrigan.” Jack said.

“Despite what your Chantry may say, the Fade is a natural part of our world.” Morrigan continued, ignoring Jack’s praise. “Demons, being spirits corrupted from their original purpose, are also natural. Cainites are not.”

At this Morrigan gave Jack a measuring look. “Cainites are aberrations. They defy the natural order. They should not be. Even my mother does not know what their true origins are.”

“Very helpful Morrigan.” Jack said sarcastically. “Tell me, do you have a single original opinion to yourself? Or does your mother just tell you what to think for you?”

Morrigan scowled back at the Cainite. Apparently, he’d hit a nerve. “I admit,” she said “That she may be more knowledgeable in certain subjects than I. That does not make me her puppet.”

“What else can you call being completely reliant on another person to inform your worldview?” Jack said. “What more complete form of slavery can there be?” And as a Camarilla neonate, Jack had a lot experience with that. The elders did love to control information.

“Well then by all means enlighten me creature.” Morrigan sneered back. “Tell me what you really are. If only to put myself ahead of my mother.”

“Cainites,” Jack answered back, “Are an act of God. Our existence, our powers, and our rule are all ordained by Him. I stand before you as an unliving miracle. You should be in awe.”

While admittedly somewhat egotistic, Jack did consider his words to be true, at least to a certain extent.

After his embrace, he’d had his doubts about the transformation of Cain into Caine, as he’d doubted the Gospel of Christ in life. But repeated exposure to the supernatural had changed that.

Jack had devoured a soul, been burned by a holy artifact of the Society of Leopold, and witnessed that thing Sheriff Medici had summoned before the Archons had put him to the torch.

Really, if that wasn’t enough to inspire faith, what was?

Of course, Morrigan didn’t see it that way.

“An act of God you say?” Morrigan said. “While I might expect that sort of nonsense from Alistair, hearing it from you, I am almost disappointed. So superstitious.”

“Listen swamp witch,” Jack snarled back. “You can insult Alistair all day long, but if you- “

Jack was interrupted by a loud barking noise from further up the road. He brought out his crossbow only to lower it again when a large dog came tearing around a bend in the road.

A rather familiar dog at that.

The dog was unfortunately followed by squad of darkspawn in close pursuit. Though why they would bother pursuing a dog somewhat puzzled Jack.

Regardless, the darkspawn alpha, a hulking brute that was somewhat better equipped than his peers, made a throat-slitting gesture at Jack and signaled his minions to charge.

Jack snapped off a shot with his crossbow, which missed, and charged the darkspawn as he grew out his claws.

He tore a darkspawn’s hand off before smashing its head in. Then downed another when he ripped out its entrails. All the while Morrigan rained down magic and Alistair dueled the alpha.

Soon enough there was only one remaining and the Cainite simply tore out its throat and guzzled down the spray.

As the ecstasy of devouring a life faded, Jack ran his tongue over his blood-soaked fangs and grinned. Thedas might have been a trash heap, but it had its perks. A whole race for him to consume without worrying over the finer points of morality. The Gangrel couldn’t remember being so well fed.

“Well that was appetizing.” Jack said to no one in particular. “Hey Alistair, is that dog the one we helped cure of darkspawn taint back at Ostagar? Why the hell would it follow us all the way out here?”

“I think it was looking for you.” Alistair said. “He’s chosen you. Mabari hounds are like that. They call it imprinting. Though I’ve never heard of them choosing a . . . creature like you.”

“It’s not that unusual.” Jack said as he kneeled down and scratched the dog behind one ear. “I’m from the Gangrel clan of Cainites. We have always had a connection with beasts. Especially dogs.”

“Does this mean we’re going to have this mangy beast following us around now?” Morrigan whined. “Wonderful.”

“He’s not mangy.” Alistair said.

“He certainly isn’t.” Jack agreed. “You know I’ve always wanted a dog. Had one for a bit too, until my sire ate it.

“If you’re going to travel with me, you’re going you’re going to need a name.” The Cainite said to the dog. “I think I’m going to call you . . . Roy.”

Yes, that was perfect. Jack had been Roy’s dog, now Roy was going to be Jack’s dog.

“I think you and I are going to get along fine. It’ll be good to finally have some decent conversation around here if nothing else.

"Though it occurs to me that if I’m going to be fighting more darkspawn, I can’t have you getting sick again. I might just have an idea about that . . ."

 

[Tiamat]

Glad to see at least Jack is willing to call out Morrigan on her crap. She mellowed out in the later sequels, but originally she was just grating and was begging to be slapped around hard by someone.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

The human capacity for mass suicide never ceased to amaze Jack.

Take a bunch of humans, give them a bit of alcohol and some blunt objects, and suddenly they think they can take on anything.

Case in point, these idiots.

“Greetings travelers!” Said a weaselly man as Jack and his companions arrived at the outskirts of the local village. The man was followed closely by half a dozen armed thugs.

“Highwaymen. Preying on those fleeing the dark spawn I suppose.” Alistair commented.

“They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson.” Said Morrigan.

“Now is that any way to greet someone?” The bandit said in mock offence. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on.”

Jack just raised an eyebrow. “Are you guys sure you want to do this? It’s a lot harder to rob actual warriors instead of defenseless peasants. You might get hurt.”

“What, by you?” The bandit answered. “You barely look old enough to hold a sword, much less wield it. I think we’ll be fine.”

It should be noted that despite his fairly impressive abilities at inflicting violence, Jack Tanner still possessed the body of a sixteen-year-old. Granted, different expectations about adulthood in Thedas as compared to modern America made it less noticeable than he was used to. But sixteen was still a lot younger than you would normally find on a battlefield.

Honestly, Jack was surprised no one had brought it up before.

It still pissed him off though.

“Right. I’m done with this.” He said. “Alistair, I don’t see anyone watching. Would you care if I eat these idiots?”

“If I said “yes” would you actually listen to me?”

“No.”

“That’s what I figured.” Alistair sighed. “Just . . . try to make it quick.”

“Wait, what’s this about eating us?” The lead bandit said, eyes widening as he saw claws grow out of Jack’s fingers.

“By the Maker!” The bandit screamed while fumbling for his sword, followed by incoherent gurgling as the Cainite tore open his rib-cage.

The rest of the bandits followed in short order. While mortals could, and often did pose lethal threats to Cainites, this was mostly the result of preparation, extensive training, and overwhelming numbers.

These bandits had none of those.

A more empathetic person might have even felt sorry for these poor fools.

As the last surviving bandit knelt in the viscera of his comrades and begged for his life, Jack Tanner ripped off his head and brought the neck stump up to his mouth so all the blood could gush down his throat.

Alistair gagged at the sight, and Morrigan had apparently decided to ignore the whole affair. Tanner didn’t care though.

As far as he was concerned, the bandits had initiated hostilities, and were therefore fair game. If they didn’t want to die, then they shouldn’t be threatening to kill others. It was only fair.

Besides, Jack had been ghouling his dog on the journey by feeding it some of his own blood, and was somewhat hungry as a result. The bandits had solved that problem quite nicely.

“Thank Andraste that’s over.” Alistair mumbled to himself as he stared at the headless corpse of the bandit. Neither Jack nor Morrigan bothered to acknowledge him.

“Well here we are Lothering.” He said while looking over the town in question. “Pretty as a painting.”

It looked like a dump to Tanner but whatever. It was all probably very impressive by Alistair’s primitive standards.

“Ah, so you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you?” Morrigan said to Alistair, her voice dripping contempt. “Falling on your blade in grief seemed like to much trouble I take it?”

“Is my being upset so hard to understand?” Alistair snapped back. “Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?”

“Before or after I stopped laughing?” Morrigan answered, as Jack snickered in the background.

“Forget I asked.” Alistair said before glaring at Jack. “And just what are you chuckling about?”

“Heh, the thought of my sire dying.” Jack said. “It does have a certain comedic element.”

“By “sire” I assume you mean the person who turned you into an abomination?” Alistair asked.

“I’m not an abomination, but yeah.”

“Would you really be laughing at the death of your actual mother? The woman who actually gave birth to you?” Alistair pressed Jack.

“I, ah . . . well, . . . I . . .” Jack stammered a bit before shutting his mouth and starring at the floor. The whole topic was something Jack very much didn’t want to think about, much less talk about.

Alistair gave Jack a look that the Cainite had difficulty sorting. Whatever it was it made him very uncomfortable. Thankfully it only lasted a few moments before Alistair broke the awkward silence.

“So, I thought we should talk about where we intend to go first.”

Jack just grunted.

“I think what Flemeth suggested is the best idea.” Alistair continued. “These treaties . . . have you looked at them?”

“No”.

“Right.” Alistair said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “There are three main groups we have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi.

“I also think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first.”

“Why the hell are you asking me?” Jack said. “No don’t answer that, it’s pretty obvious.

“I understand that we can’t all be leaders, but you need to understand that I know nothing about this place. I have no idea who any of these people in the treaties are, and thus I would have no better way to decide which one to visit first than by picking one at random.

“I can’t be the leader, which means either you have to man up, or we’re left with Morrigan. And considering that she’s lived her whole life in a swamp,” At this Morrigan gave the Cainite a withering look, “I doubt she’d know much more than me.”

“You’re right I suppose.” Alistair admitted. “We’ll start with Arl Eamon. But first we need to resupply at the village. It’s time to head in.”

“Right.” Jack said. “Oh, and one more thing. I think it’s best if we keep my nature as a Cainite a secret from here on out. We don’t have the protection of the Wardens anymore, and we don’t want to cause a panic.”

“Does that mean you won’t be feeding off of anyone?” Alistair asked hopefully.

“For the moment.”

“Thank the Maker for that.” Alistair said. “Maybe this won’t be a total disaster after all.”

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

It wouldn't hurt Jack to tell the actual myth of how cainites came to be, unless his sire decided he didn't need to know.
The history of vampires is a fascinating one, especially when trying to reconcille it with all the myths and claims of all other factions.

It surprises me how young he was. I thought he looked similiar to the gangrel-protag of Bloodlines. Sixteen seems young.

Jack had been ghouling his dog

I didn't know that's possible. I thought Vampire blood was toxic in some way, except to humans.

Alistair said. “Maybe this won’t be a total disaster after all.”

Damnit, Alistair.

So, Alistair is offically the leader of the merry group. That was to be expected, with how lacking Jack is in leading. Considering his sire, not that surprising. No vampire wants his subjects to get grand ideas, especially not a camarilla one.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

It wouldn't hurt Jack to tell the actual myth of how cainites came to be, unless his sire decided he didn't need to know.
The history of vampires is a fascinating one, especially when trying to reconcille it with all the myths and claims of all other factions.

He's going to be quite reluctant to tell the myth of Caine to any non-vampire. Just because his companions know he's a vampire doesn't mean he wants to tell them secrets he doesn't have to.

I didn't know that's possible. I thought Vampire blood was toxic in some way, except to humans.

It's not. Animal ghouls have a long history in VTM. Gangrel, Nosferatu and Tzimisce are especially fond of them. In the dark ages, Ventrue knights often had ghoul horses.

So, Alistair is offically the leader of the merry group. That was to be expected, with how lacking Jack is in leading. Considering his sire, not that surprising. No vampire wants his subjects to get grand ideas, especially not a camarilla one.

Jack is letting Alistair take over in things that he doesn't want to do. If he feels he needs to step in he will. And he does actually have some experience leading. During the last year of the battle of New York he had a couple of thin-blood subordinates he bullied into helping him. While not great experience, it's still something.

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

He's going to be quite reluctant to tell the myth of Caine to any non-vampire.

Because it's a Cainite secret? I only played the game V:tM:Bloodlines, and that game isn't indicative of how things go down in the camarilla normally.

While not great experience, it's still something.

Going by his musings, it barely worked out.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Prince Roy Vannier considered himself to be a wise and enlightened ruler, and thus did not kill someone simply for being the bearer of bad news.

Even if that person was the worthless excuse of a Kindred known as Jack “The Rat” Tanner.

“Jack. As you were the only one at site of the event to survive the incident, I will require you to tell me what precisely occurred.”

The Gangrel was knelt down on one knee before the desk of the Ventrue prince in an obvious state of terror for his life.

Which was hardly fair. The Sabbat would probably kill him long before Roy put his mind to it.

“Y-yes my prince.” Jack said nervously. “I regret to inform you that the Sabbat have raided your weapons storage facility, killed everyone inside, and made off with all of the special explosives you had stored there.”

Roy had first met Jack a bit over a year ago. His sire, Caitlin Murray, had formerly been a Sabbat before being expelled from the group over some sort of ideological schism.

He hadn’t expected much of the Gangrel fledgling then. Prince Roy had just seen another sort lived pawn to be thrown into the jaws of the Sabbat.
And then one month ago this terrified little savage had crawled into Roy’s office and told him that his current employer, the local Tremere regent, was planning a coup.

Though a Gangrel neonate wasn’t exactly the most reliable source of information, it still bore looking into. And sure enough, Regent Gavin was indeed planning to overthrow Roy.

Roy didn’t know if the coup would have succeeded without Tanner’s warning. There were still unanswered questions as to how large the conspiracy had been. But he did know that it would have weakened New York’s Camarilla sufficiently that the Sabbat would have devoured them whole.

Which of course left the question of how to reward the neonate. Obviously, Roy couldn’t put him in a position of trust. After all, if he could turn on one master, he could turn on another.

On the other hand, he couldn’t leave the neonate unrewarded either. The perception that the Camarilla didn’t reward loyal service was one of the largest factors drawing neonates to the Sabbat.

And so, as benefiting his position as prince of Manhattan, Prince Roy came up with the perfect solution. He appointed Jack Tanner the official scourge of his court. An utterly useless title that he had never used before and probably never would again.

Jack even turned out to be a surprisingly competent subordinate. Since his employment as scourge he done some significant damage to the local branch of the Society of Leopold and acted as a scout into Sabbat territory.

The only problem is that Roy now had to put up with his obnoxious personality.

“I am aware that the weapons depot was attacked. What I don’t know is precisely how that happened. Tell me.”

“Where do you want me to begin?” Jack asked.

“Start at the beginning.” Roy answered.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth . . .” Jack said, with a small smile.

Case in point. The stupid kid thought he was clever.

“Not that far back you insolent mayfly.” Prince Roy snapped. “Tell me what happened at the beginning of last night. Not the beginning of the universe.”

“Right sir.” The Gangrel quickly said. “As per your orders I was scouting into Sabbat territory for targets of opportunity and I found what I believe to be a spawning ground for new shovelheads.

“Since the Sabbat like to use these places multiple times, I decided to requisition some directional explosives from the facility so as to ambush the Sabbat the next time they used the area.”

“And I assume you took appropriate measures to ensure this does not endanger the masquerade?” Roy asked.

“Of course, my lord.” Jack answered. “I had already chosen a street gang to take the blame for the explosion.

“Anyway, when I arrived at the depot the attack was already in progress. Most of the security team stationed there had already been killed and the Sabbat were loading their loot into some trucks.”

“Yes, the security team.” Prince Roy said. “That we had stationed there specifically to deal with incidents like this. Do you have any idea how they were disposed of so easily?”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Jack said with a sour look. “After the raid was mostly finished, I managed to catch one of the shovelheads involved by himself and beat most of the story out of him. He claimed that the operation was planned by a Malkavian and based on the evidence I didn’t find that particularly surprising.”

Great. Roy was getting a headache just thinking about whatever stunt this lunatic pulled.

“You see,” Jack continued. “Your ghoul and human security forces have to stay up to times that are not usual for mortals and so they drink a lot of coffee to keep themselves awake. The building we hid the weapons in received a shipment of new coffee every evening, but it seems that the Sabbat found out and tampered with the supply mid transit.”

“Did they poison the shipment?” Roy asked.

“No sir. If they had done that it would have put the whole base on alert.” Jack said as if visibly pained. “They replaced it with decaf.”

Roy blinked. “What.”

“That was my reaction as well.” Jack said. “The security team probably assumed it was a mix up in paperwork or something. The Sabbat still took huge casualties, but our security was thrown off their game just enough for them to succeed anyway.

“Considering that most of the Sabbat force seemed to be made up of fresh shovelheads, I doubt they lost anything of value in the assault.”

Jack bowed his head, report seemingly over.

“Your involvement in this matter is concluded. For now, continue to harass the Sabbat and wait for further orders.”

As soon as Jack had exited the room Sheriff Medici appeared beside the prince from under his cloak of obfuscation.

“This is a disaster.” He said. “We have reports of vozhd in the sewers and the Nosferatu are going dark. We can’t fight those things effectively without that heavy weaponry.”

“Do you think you can recover them?”

The sheriff shrugged. “Perhaps. I’ll certainly try. But in the meantime, we should try to find some replacement equipment. We might need to make a purchase from the Giovanni.”

“That might be a poor decision.” Roy replied. “I’ve come to suspect that the local Giovanni may supplying information and equipment to the Sabbat.”

Medici raised one eyebrow in response. “Are you sure about that my lord?”

“No. I am not. Which is why I suggest we send someone to investigate. I was thinking . . . Jack.”

“May I inquire as to your reasoning my lord? Might it be wiser to send someone with more diplomatic experience? Or any? Perhaps we could send Christine?”

Roy shook his head. “No. This is perfect. I’ll send Jack as an envoy to the Giovani’s mansion. If they are on our side then they won’t kill him regardless of how boorish he is. But if they are working with the Sabbat . . .”

Medici nodded in understanding. “Then they with use his lack of manners as an excuse to destroy him before he learns anything incriminating. Very clever sir. But this still leaves me without supplies.”

“I will contact prince Vitel. He may be able to spare something. Until then make do with what you have. Now leave.”

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Jack’s entry into Lothering hadn’t been especially welcoming. Peasants had cowered in fear and ran for safety as soon as Jack and his companions set foot in the streets of their village.

This was not ideal for a group trying to be inconspicuous, but also not surprising when one of them was completely slathered in fresh blood.

It occurred to Jack that perhaps he shouldn’t have fed so messily.

Eh, too late now.

“Ugh.” Jack grunted as knelt in the village creek and washed a patch of viscera from his armor. “I think that’s the last of it. Hopefully we can buy our supplies without causing a riot.”

“I’m just glad you dealt with it before it started to smell.” Alistair said.

“And you’d be the expert on that wouldn’t you?” Jack muttered.

“Hey!”

“Anyway,” Jack ignored Alistair’s complaint. “I think you might want to purchase our supplies without me.” The Gangrel motioned in the direction of the local merchant who was currently in a screaming match with one of the local priestesses.

“I don’t really feel like interacting with the Chantry types. Besides, someone has to scout around for some information.”

Alistair looked torn. “I suppose you have a point.”

“I’m also going to need you to pick up some extra supplies. I’m running low on crossbow bolts and I need some antiseptic to clean off my teeth.”

“Anti-what?”

“Antiseptic. It’s . . .” Jack trailed off when realized he had said the word “antiseptic” in English instead of whatever the locals spoke. Apparently, they didn’t have a word for antiseptic.

“Right, I forgot you guys are living in the dung ages.” Jack said. “Just get some booze then. Preferably as close to pure alcohol as you can.”

“I thought your kind couldn’t drink alcohol.” Alistair said.

“We can’t. It’s so I don’t spread around whatever diseases the darkspawn and those bandits might have been carrying next time I feed.”

“And how does alcohol help with that?” Alistair asked.

“It kills the germs in the . . .” Jack frowned when he realized the word “germs” had come out in English as well.

“You know what? Forget it. I’m not here to be an elementary school teacher for a bunch of primitives. I just need something to clean off my teeth so I don’t cause a plague. I don’t even want to think about what hideous things were in the blood of those darkspawn I ate.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow. “And you care? You told me that the people of Ferelden were “ignorant mud-dwelling savages” earlier this morning. And you expect me to believe that you care about them getting sick?”

“Don’t get me wrong Alistair.” Jack said. “You locals are a bunch of primitive yahoos. That anyone like Cailan was permitted in a position of power proves that humans are totally unfit to run themselves. Ferelden would greatly benefit from enlightened Cainite guidance.”

“But,” and Jack held up a hand. “that doesn’t matter. Regardless of how little I think of these people, they are still human beings, which gives them some intrinsic value.

“If a human makes themself my enemy then I’d kill them without hesitation. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go around and spread plagues just because I’m too lazy to wipe off my teeth. I’m not a Sabbat.”

“No, you just seem to think you know better than the people of Ferelden about how we should run our own country.” Alistair said dryly. “It makes you sound like an Orlesian.”

“This discussion is going nowhere.” Jack growled back. “I’ll go to the village tavern with the dog and get the booze myself. You can take Morrigan and get the supplies. We’ll meet back in front of the Chantry when we’re done.”

Alistair shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Jack whistled and Roy ran to his side, tail wagging happily. “Anyway, Morrigan, while I’m gone you need to keep Alistair from being stupid. Alistair, don’t let Morrigan turn anyone into a toad. Also don’t spend all of our money.”

As he around and left the Gangrel could practically feel his companion’s glares boring into the back of his head.

But he didn’t care.

The only local whose opinion mattered to him was walking right beside him.

“Do you think I’m too hard on them Roy?” Jack asked his dog.

Roy barked back.

“They really do deserve it. Excellent point.”
________________________________________________

Lothering’s tavern turned out to be just as disgusting and sad as Jack had expected. What he had not expected was a bunch of soldiers led by a man wearing the symbol of Teyrn Loghain.

Loghain, as Jack had learned from the few peasants willing to talk to him, had seized control of the country after the king’s death and declared himself regent.

All which Jack would have been totally fine with if Loghain hadn’t decided to declare the Grey Wardens traitors to Ferelden immediately afterword.

Alistair had speculated that Loghain had done this deflect his own crimes onto another source. And since the Grey Wardens were never truly trusted in Ferelden and almost completely diminished, that made them the perfect scapegoats.

Of course, why he needed a scapegoat in the first place was a mystery to the young Cainite. In the Camarilla, or in the Sabbat for that matter, Loghain’s actions would be considered heroic.

He had abandoned an untenable position and saved what was left of the army in the process. All this had demonstrated his superiority to Cailan and thus his right to rule. A perfectly legitimate succession.

But the people of Ferelden felt differently.

It was all irrelevant though. Loghain had made himself Jack’s enemy, and therefore Jack would respond with violence. The Teyrn’s reasons, legitimate as they may be, meant nothing.

Loghain’s men seemed to agree.

“Well. Look what we have here, men. I think we've just been blessed.” The commander of the soldiers said as he swaggered up to Jack.

“Didn't we spend all morning asking about a fellow by this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen him?” One soldier asked.

“It seems we were lied to.”

By this point Jack had figured out where the wind was blowing and began to finger his knives. While his claws would have been better, they were blatantly unnatural. And he had meant what he had said to Alistair about laying low.

Essentially, the masquerade was back in effect.

Before he could act a young woman and priestess robes walked up to him and the soldiers.

“Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble.” She said in some accent Jack couldn’t identify. “This is no doubt simply another poor soul seeking refuge.”

“He's more than that.” The commander growled back. “Now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect this traitor, you'll get the same as him.”

“Normally I wouldn’t do this, but I just ate so I’ll make an exception.” Jack growled at the commander. “Leave me alone.”

“And you think I care tha-augh!” The commander gargled blood from the dagger that Jack had shoved into his throat mid-sentence.

Hey, he had given the idiot a chance.

Jack followed with a kick to the knee of the nearest soldier. The man fell screaming as his kneecap collapsed with a sickening crunch before he fell silent as a knife stabbed behind his jaw.

Meanwhile the priestess engaged another soldier with a knife of her own. Despite being unarmored and under-armed she seemed to be handling herself pretty well.

Another two soldiers had readied bows from across the tavern and loosed a pair of arrows at Jack. One lodged itself into his ribs while the other simply bounced off of his fortitude enhanced body.

But an arrow meant little to Jack’s undead flesh.

Before the archers could fire again Jack was upon them, quickly stabbing through one’s jugular before grabbing the other soldier’s head and twisting until his neck snapped.

Jack tossed away the body and tore the arrow out of his side.

Once again, he was covered in blood and surrounded by terrified peasants.

It hadn’t even been an hour since the last time.

At least the priestess had finished off her soldier. That’s one fool he didn’t have to deal with himself.

“I apologize for interfering,” the priestess greeted Jack, “but I couldn't just sit by and not help.”

“That’s alright.” Jack said. “You certainly did well for yourself. I wasn’t aware the Chantry instructed its clergy in combat.”

“They don’t. But I wasn't born in the Chantry, you know. Many of us had more... colorful lives before we joined.

“Let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or I was.” said Leliana.

“And my name is Jack.” Jack responded. “Now what exactly do you want from me?”

“Those men said you're a Grey Warden. You will be battling the darkspawn, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do?” Leliana asked.

Jack nodded.

“I know after what happened, you'll need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you now? I don’t know a damn thing about you. Why should I bring you with me?”

Leliana just smiled. “Ah, I thought you might say that, but you see, the Maker wants me to join you.”

Jack snorted in contempt. “I already have a God. The commands of yours do not interest me.”

“He is not just my god.” Leliana said, looking like she was having a heart attack. “The Maker has love for all! I... I know you may not believe, but I had a dream... a vision!”

“That doesn’t mean that you’re not insane.” Snapped the Cainite. “Even if your visions are legitimate. People who see things make poor colleagues.

“That said, it’s not really my place to decide. I should probably ask my companions about this.”

Jack sighed somewhat dramatically. “I think I’m just going to let Alistair handle this one. Right after I hit the bar.”
___________________________________

Sometime later, Jack and Leliana stood in front of the Chantry with Alistair and Morrigan. The Gangrel was covered in dried blood.

“In my defense,” he said, “they started it. Also, this woman wants to join up with us. The voices in her head told her to.”

Alistair buried his head in his hands.

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

Alistair buried his head in his hands.

Ah, the "joys" of having a companion with a magnet for strange people.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Though there was some debate, Alistair did allow Leliana to join their party. Of course, he did ask questions as to her skills, general sanity, and why she and Jack were covered in blood. And though the jury was still out as to Leliana’s sanity, Jack and Leliana were still able to answer the rest of Alistair’s questions to his satisfaction.

Although, Jack still wasn’t sure why Alistair brought her on board. Perhaps he was touched by her religious conviction. Maybe he wanted someone else in the group who actually cared about the fate of Ferelden. He might have just thought she was pretty. Regardless, Jack didn’t care enough to ask at the time.

He was really starting to regret decision that now.

“So, your name was Jack, right?” Leliana asked.

As soon as Alistair had brought Leliana into the group and Jack had washed the blood off of his armor, Leliana had started to ask questions. Apparently, the fight had piqued her curiosity.

“That is what I said earlier.” Jack said.

Leliana nodded. “I couldn’t help but notice how you fought back at the inn. Knife fighting isn’t easy, unless you hit in precisely the right place targets rarely die immediately. It is difficult to master without practical experience.

“But you knew were to strike. Though your fighting wasn’t exactly polished, it was experienced. Not only that, but you had no reaction to the deaths of those men. You have done this many times before.”

“And your point is?” Jack asked irritably.

“I just wonder how someone so young could have learned to kill so well.”

This is why Jack really hated that he had been embraced at the age of sixteen. It just brought up so many awkward questions.

Jack could wield a knife well because he was experienced at using them, simple as that. His body was that of a sixteen-year-old, but he’d been stabbing people since he’d been embraced a bit less than three years ago.

Mainly because he looked too young to purchase a gun, but that was beside the point.

Granted, the situation was less awkward here in Thedas than it had been back in America. And even then, the enlistment age had been at the age of seventeen as compared to Fereldan and the rest of this medieval world where noble children were regularly trained in combat from a young age.

A sixteen-year-old on the front lines wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow if you were a raw recruit, or even if you were well trained but inexperienced.

But it was another matter if you were already a hardened killer.

Unfortunately, Leliana’s concern was understandable from her point of view. Without knowledge of Jack’s unchanging body, the only explanation left he had began killing at an unfortunately young age.

“Former child soldier” was not the image Jack wanted to cultivate for himself.

“Look Leliana, I understand that this looks a little strange from your perspective, but I assure you that a reasonable explanation exists. Right Alistair?”

Alistair gave them both a flat look. “Well, there is an explanation, sure, but I don’t think that any normal person would call it reasonable.”

“Shut up Alistair!” Jack snapped back. “What the hell do you know about normal people? You smell like a latrine!”

At this point Leliana watched in concern as the two men’s conversation devolved into childish bickering. And Jack was alright with that. If she couldn’t handle this kind of squabbling than it was better for her to find out now and leave than to find out and whine about it later.

Because Alistair, Jack, and Morrigan were probably never going to stop fighting.

Of course, that wasn’t the only thing she needed to know about in advance. It would be rather difficult to disguise the whole blood drinking thing if they were going to be traveling together.

But Jack wasn’t going to explain anything until they’d left the village. While he felt no need to kill witnesses to keep his vampirism a secret like he did in New York, it wouldn’t do to have the priestess start screaming in the middle of the village that he was an abomination.

Better to tell her everything when they were out of hearing range. Jack had no interest in angry mobs.

Alistair snapped his fingers in front of Jack. “Hey, did you hear me?”

“Sorry, I lost focus.” Jack said. “Your voice tends to have that effect on people. What do you want now?”

“Oh, you know, I just thought you should admire the lovely scenery.” Alistair snarked. “I think that man trapped in the cage really brings out the rustic beauty.”

Sure enough, there was a man locked in a person sized cage right past the entrance of the village. If that wasn’t noticeable enough, the man was a giant with grey skin and white hair.

Thedas just kept getting weirder.

“I admit he really does compliment the squalor and misery.” Jack asked. “But seriously, what the hell is going on here?”

“I remember the revered mother mentioning this man. She called him a savage from the far north.” Leliana answered. “She said that he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t explain why he’s in a cage.” Jack said. “If he did all that then you should have just hung him or slit his throat or something. Leaving him out to die of thirst seems pointlessly cruel.”

“It does.” Leliana said. “But this was the decision of the revered mother.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t care about her opinion.” Jack said. “I’m going to handle this myself.”

Jack set a course for the cage with the others following close behind him. It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of the man in the cage.

“You aren't one of my captors.” The man said in a deep, rough voice. “I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace.”

“That seems like an odd thing to say to someone who can help you.” Jack said. “If you wish, I could kill you now instead of letting you die slowly.”

“My wish is for an honorable death in battle. Failing that, I will wait for the darkspawn.”

“Right. So, I heard you butchered an entire family. Is that true?”

“Yes. It is as they say.” The giant said.

Though usually a statement like that would be followed up with an explanation, the giant seemed content to leave it at that. Jack and his party were left standing around in a rather awkward silence.

“You know what? This is ridiculous.” Jack growled. “I’m done speaking to you through this stupid cage.”

Blood surged through his dead veins as Jack grabbed the door of the iron cage and tore it off by its hinges before throwing it to the side.

Jack may have sometimes regretted becoming a Cainite, but never let it be said that the condition didn’t have its benefits.

The giant’s eyes widened slightly at Jack’s demonstration of his unnatural strength. Leliana gasped in the background.

And this was fine. As there were currently no peasants in sight this seemed like a good time as any to let Leliana know about Jack being a Cainite. As for the big guy, Jack was probably going to end up killing him anyway so it wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other.

“You are not human.” The giant stated plainly.

“What’s your point? Neither are you.” The Gangrel answered back. “Speaking of which, what the hell are you anyway?”

“I am Sten of the Beresaad, the vanguard of the Qunari peoples.” Sten said. “And you are an abomination.”

At this point Leliana was getting noticeably worried, fingering her weapons and looking around nervously. Oddly enough, Sten seemed to be perfectly at ease. Weird.

Fortunately, Jack Tanner had a very high tolerance for weird.

He blamed Clan Malkavian for that.

“I’m not an abomination, no.” Jack told the giant. “Not in the sense that mages here define it, though I doubt the Chantry would see the distinction.

“But I didn’t come here to explain my rather unique condition. It was to either let you out of the cage or give you a quick death. And you haven’t really given me reason to believe you deserve to live. Murdering families and all that.”

“Wait a second Jack.” Alistair demanded. “Sten, do you . . . regret what you did?”

“Yes.” Sten said.

“If you had a choice would you do it again?”

“No.”

“We are Grey Wardens, on a mission to end the Blight. If had the choice, would you be interested in joining us as a form of atonement?”

“Alistair, what exactly are you getting at here?” Jack asked.

“I have heard that Qunari are renowned warriors. If we take him with us, perhaps he might be of some use.”

“What on earth makes you think any of this is a good idea?” Jack demanded. “He hasn’t even told us why he killed those people and you want to bring him along with us?

“And what does he think of this by the way? Does he want to travel with an “abomination?” And while we’re at it, what does choir girl over there think?”

“It would help if you told us what you are.” Leliana said. “Though you say you are not an abomination, you still have to be something, and you are clearly not natural.”

Sten didn’t say anything. He just stood there in silence with his usual stoic expression. Jack took that as affirmation to proceed.

“Right, the details can be explained later, but the basics are that I am not originally from Thedas, I am an undead, and I must drink blood to sustain myself. Animal blood will suffice. And though I may have some somewhat unnatural powers, I don’t know any real magic.”

“But you used to be human, correct?” Leliana asked.

“Yes, I used to be human.” Jack said. “I was turned into this, a Cainite, a bit less then three years ago. I haven’t aged a day since.

“So, does all that make both of you feel better? Or are you all to high and mighty to travel around with a walking corpse?”

Leliana frowned and stood in silence for a few moments before speaking. “The Maker sent me to go with you for a reason. If he sent me to go with a spirit inhabiting a corpse, then I will do so.

“I believe that the Maker has not truly abandoned humanity as the Chantry says. Perhaps he is ready to forgive spirits, his first children, as well.”

“Fantastic.” Jack sighed. “And what about you, big guy?” Jack demanded of Sten. “Are you okay with all of this?”

“Your existence is against the Qun.” Sten said. “But most things in these lands are. It is not my purpose to right them. Fighting against the Blight would be an honorable cause. Assisting you is no different than assisting one of your mages.”

“Fine, I guess you can come with us.” Jack said. “But if you go crazy again then I’m going to put you down. Understand?”

“Yes. That is good.” Sten answered.

Jack shook his head. “It looks like I’m going to be traveling with a private circus.” He mumbled. “So much for subtlety.

“As long as we’re at it, I have a pretty good story for the road. I wasn’t legally permitted to tell it back home, but it should be fine to tell it here.”

“Alright, but only if it’s nothing like that one about that “celebration” by those Sabbat people.” Alistair said. “Even if I wasn’t a Warden, I don’t think I’d ever sleep well again after hearing that.”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” The Gangrel reassured Alistair. “Anyway, this is the story of my coterie and I infiltrated a Society of Leopold base by disguising ourselves as Scientologist missionaries. . .”

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

I haven't played Dragon Age in any meaningful way, but do the various partymembers join that quickly?
First Leliana, then Sten, it's fairly fast.

“Anyway, this is the story of my coterie and I infiltrated a Society of Leopold base by disguising ourselves as Scientologist missionaries. . .”

This sounds like a plethora of hijinks. I can see the members struggle to resist strangling the missionaries.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

If Jack had to describe how the trip to Redcliffe went, he would have to say it was tense. Leliana was pretty obviously struggling with the idea of Jack being a vampire and Alistair wasn’t much better. Jack thought a part of the reason for this was that the local culture didn’t have any legends about vampires or similar creatures, and so they had to view him through their own cultural lens. Which for Leliana and Alistair, meant that they saw him as an abomination.

Of course, Alistair, and to a much lesser extent Leliana, understood that the Cainite wasn’t technically an abomination by the definition of their people’s mages. Even regular undead in Thedas weren’t technically abominations.

What surprised Jack was that that difference didn’t seem to matter to them. He may not be possessed by a demon, but he was still a corpse animated by what they saw as some sort of unnatural spirit. From their position, there was no meaningful difference.

Jack doubted the rest of Thedas would see him any differently.

They might have changed their views if the Gangrel had shared any information about his kind beyond the bare minimum with them, but even that was rather doubtful.

Besides, even if telling the natives everything would make them less suspicious, that simply wasn’t going to happen. Jack may have felt it necessary to tell his current companions that he was a kind of undead that drank blood, but that was only because they were going to find out anyways. Telling them anything more would be almost sacrilegious.

Even the stories he told them of his past were heavily abridged. Not just the parts about Cainites and the supernatural, but how society on Earth worked in general. Jack was aware that to the ignorant the Camarilla seemed more like a glorified criminal group than a real country. And that didn’t really inspire a lot of respect.

It was much better to let the locals think the Camarilla was more of a traditional nation state than a secret society. Better to let them think Cainites ruled openly rather than from the shadows.

That was still more than Jack was comfortable with sharing, but circumstances dictated it. At this point Jack had mostly given up on concealing anything except for Cainite religion, physiology, or the details of their politics.

With anything else it was easier to distort information than to cover it up. Really, since his companions had no way to verify his data, Jack was free to make up whatever he wanted.

Which was fortunate, as Jack was going to have to get a comprehensive story together soon. His companions were starting to get a bit pushy with their questions, and worse, Sten seemed oddly interested when it was mentioned that Jack was from beyond Thedas. It was going to get worse when he started interacting with what qualified for authority figures around here.

Which was likely going to be in about an hour, as the party had just arrived at the outskirts of Redcliffe.

“Look, can we talk for a moment?” Alistair said. “I need to tell you something I, ah, should probably have told you earlier.”

“What is it now Alistair?” Jack grumbled.

“Well, let's see. How do I tell you this? We're almost at Redcliffe. Did I say how I know Arl Eamon, exactly?”

“If I cared, then I would have asked.”

“I suppose that figures.” Alistair said. “I'm a bastard. My mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle and she died when I was born. Arl Eamon took me in and raised me before I was sent to the Chantry.

“The reason he did that was because... well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my... half-brother, I suppose.”

“I’m not putting you on the throne.”

“What?”

“I am not helping you seize the throne.” Jack growled. “I’m just here for the archdemon. Go find someone to help you with your political bullshit.”

“Maker, no!” Alistair said. “I don’t to be king!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed in response. “Then why the hell are you telling me this?”

“Because it will probably come up. I didn't want to walk into Redcliffe without you knowing the truth, that would be just... awkward.”

“Hmm.” Jack grunted. “Fair enough. But if all you want is a shoulder to cry on, try someone else. Maybe Sten since he seems like a good listener.”

“That is not necessary.” Sten said.

Alistair sighed. “You know, this isn’t really how I imagined the Wardens would be like when I joined.”

And for the first time since they met, Jack felt himself feeling sympathy for Alistair.

_____________________________________________________

Jack had long felt as if the universe was out to get him, and that had not changed since arriving in Thedas. Case in point, while he had hoped that dealing with Redcliffe would be as easy as stopping by and negotiating with their lord, things on the ground were a bit more complicated.

“Would you please repeat that for me?” Tanner growled out at the acting ruler of Redcliffe.

Not only did the Arl seem to be in some sort of coma, the village appeared to be under siege from some sort of “evil force” that were coming from the castle. No one knew what had happened to the Arl or his family since. Even worse was the nature of this “evil.”

“We are being assaulted by the walking dead.” Bann Teagan said.” Every night they return with their ranks bolstered by our recently dead. They fight with even the gravest injuries, even if you hack them to pieces, they still keep coming. Please ser Warden, we need your assistance.”

That was problematic. Jack had unfortunately fought zombies once before and the memory was not pleasant. More so because of what the Giovani had been doing with the zombies before the fight than the fight itself, but still.

“I don’t think we can make a decision without more information. Alistair,” Jack said, “How much of a chance do we have against the blight without Eamon?”

“Not much of one. He’s really our only way in with the nobility and without him any opposition to Loghain will have no one to rally around.”

“Hmm. We don’t know if he’s still alive so . . .” Jack muttered. “What about you Bann Teagan? Couldn’t we just evacuate you and have you get us support against the blight?”

“Perhaps.” Teagan said. “But I am still not a popular as my brother, and abandoning my lands and subjects would certainly hurt my credibility. Besides we would still need Redcliffe Castle to coordinate from even without my brother.

“But even so, I need to protect my people. I cannot abandon them even if it could defeat the blight.”

“Of course, you can’t.” Jack complained. “Anyway, what are these undead like?”

“Are you actually planning on helping these fools?” Morrigan sneered. “How pathetic. I had almost thought better of you.”

“Well I’m certainly considering it.” Jack said. “If what Alistair says is correct then we’re going to need Eamon or at least Teagan on our side. Besides, I doubt a zombie horde is going to stay contained here for long. We may as well face them now before they’re had a chance to pick up steam.

“Yes, I’ve decided. It would be best to assist in the defense. Assuming the other Grey Warden here agrees.”

Alistair nodded. “I do. And I appreciate that you want to defend these people. Whatever your reasons.”

“As do I, thank the Maker.” Teagan said.

Jack turned to address his companions. “Do any of you have any experience fighting the undead? I’ve fought things sort of like these and other Cainites, but I am unfamiliar with the local undead. Any advice you give might be useful.”

“These creatures are likely spirits possessing corpses.” Morrigan answered. “As the veil does not seem to be thin here, I suspect it is caused by a mage or perhaps a demon.”

“If we kill the summoner, would that be enough to destroy the undead?” The Gangrel asked.

“That depends on how they were created.” The witch replied. “I would not count on it.”

“Good to know anyway. Does anyone else have something to contribute?”

“Yes.” Sten said. “I have fought the Tevinters on Seheron. The magisters would often use blood magic to summon undead to fight us.”

“Do you have any advice?”

“They are durable but not invincible.” Sten said. “They will ignore most wounds, but will fall if you destroy the head or spine. Cutting off a leg is also useful.

“I saw some of the villagers outside using bows. This will not be effective. Unless you can pierce the brain, it will have no effect. They would do better to use heavy cutting weapons.”

“Does this line up with your experience Bann Teagan?” Jack asked.

“I think so.” He said. “But you would do better to talk with mayor Murdock or Ser Perth. They have spent more time fighting these things than I.”

“Right, I’ll go speak to them and see what I can do to bolster your defenses.”

_______________________________________________

Murdock and Ser Perth had indeed known more about these creatures than Teagan. Not about how they worked of course, but of how they fought and operated on the battlefield.

Unfortunately, Jack has to once again explain a bit of what he was as he would have to use his powers against the zombies. This caused some concern from the locals, especially Ser Perth, but as long as they didn’t attack him and continued to help plan the defense Jack couldn’t bring himself to care.

“The undead have no ranged weapons at all?” Jack asked Murdock.

“Not that I’ve seen.” Murdock answered. “That doesn’t mean they don’t have them. But if they do, they haven’t used them against us.”

“Okay then, I have a plan for how we should do this.

“We will put a barricade on the road to the castle which will be defended by myself and Ser Perth’s knights. When the undead attack tonight I will stand in front of the barricade to draw their attention. As they are only using basic hand weapons, they shouldn’t be too much of a threat to me. The knights will focus on hacking down any that get past.”

“I have a concern.” Ser Perth said. “I’m worried that whatever is controlling these monsters may take the field. You may have your own unnatural powers, but a malificar may prove too strong for you to overcome.”

“That’s a good point.” Jack said. “Morrigan, I assume that anything capable of animating these things would also be able to throw fireballs?”

“Tis likely.”

“Hmm, that would be bad.” The Cainite murmured. “Alright, Leliana, you will also be with me. If a mage shows up you will try to snipe with your bow. If that proves impossible, you will shoot up a flaming arrow to signal that we need reinforcements while the rest of us begin to slowly begin to fall back. Is everyone all right with that?”

There was a general muttering of agreement and nodding of heads. That seemed good enough.

“The next part of the battle will likely take place near the chantry. There are various undead wandering around the surrounding area and they will probably converge to attack us from another direction. Regardless of where they come from their ultimate destination will be the people of the village. I suggest that the rest of you fortify the area around the chantry and fight there. You’ll have your backs to the building so you shouldn’t get surrounded.

“As Sten has the most battlefield experience I suggest that he lead that part of the defense. Any objections?”

There were none.

“Good. You all know your jobs so I suggest you get to work. If any of you need rest, I suggest you get it now. It’s going to be a long night.”

_________________________________________________________

As night began to fall, every preparation that could be done was prepared. All that was left to do was wait for the enemy.

Jack sat on the newly built barricade inspecting his protean claws. It wasn’t something he needed to do; it was just something he did before combat. He couldn’t remember when he picked up the habit.

“May I join you?” Leliana came up from behind the barricade and sat next to Jack.

“It looks like you already have.” Jack said, eyes gleaming red from use of the protean discipline. “But by all means, make yourself at home.”

Leliana fidgeted for a moment before saying “You did well in planning the battle. You seem to have experience in this.”

Jack shrugged. “Well, yeah. I spent two and a half years fighting in the Siege of New York City back home. The fighting wasn’t always like this, but I certainly know how to organize a defense.

“It’s also why I didn’t leave Alistair to take change this time. I’ll let him deal with the local politics any day, but this is to far outside his area of expertise.”

“I still have to wonder why you didn’t consider infiltrating the castle to kill the mage.” Leliana said. “That might be a more elegant solution.”

Jack just shook his head. “You’re thinking like an assassin, not a soldier. Don’t get me wrong, assassins have their uses, but now isn’t the time.

“I could probably climb over the walls or claw my way through the gates, but that would leave me having to fight my way through the whole castle by myself, or close to it. It’s better to deal with the undead on an open field where they’re not entrenched.

“We can still assault the castle later. But this time they’ll have less guards and we’ll have had a chance for some proper recon.

“But it looks like we’re going to have to cut this conversation short. I think the attack is starting.”

Sure enough, a fog was rolling down from the castle with obviously unnatural speed. The undead couldn’t be far behind.

“Ser Perth!” Jack shouted. “Get your men to the barricades! Leliana you know what to do. Everyone, get to your positions!”

Undead came lumbering out of the mists and Jack charged in to meet them. Though he generally didn’t like full frontal assaults, the Gangrel didn’t expect too much trouble from these things.

The lead undead shambled toward him with a hatchet and swung at chest. Jack dodged the blow easily and bisected the creature with a swipe of his claws.

It got harder when the next three came at him at the same time.

As he crushed the last of them, the red haze of frenzy briefly came over his vision before he pushed it down. One of them had gotten a hit off before being destroyed, and while the damage was superficial it was obnoxious.

Besides, more were coming. And it didn’t look like they were going to run out any time soon.

At this point the combat fell into a steady rhythm. Groups of undead came out of the mist in waves, and while some did go around him most focused on Jack.

He would kill a few, they would move to surround him, and then he would fall back bit. Occasionally one of their blows would get through, but it generally didn’t do much damage. He had, after all, studied the Cainite discipline of fortitude quite extensively.

If the battle continued as it was, Jack would eventually be pushed back to the barricade, but by then the undead would be sufficiently weakened that he and the knights would be able to mop up the remainders.

Nothing could go wrong.

Or so it seemed until an undead managed to sneak up behind him and hit him in the back of the head with a mace.

Frenzy once again began to cloud the Cainite’s vision, and to his panic, this time he found himself unable to push it back.

Jack screamed and lashed out blindly at anything near him as anger began to take over his mind. The last coherent thought he had before the beast took over was. “I hope this doesn’t make me grow a tail.”

____________________________________________________________

Eventually the haze parted and pain surged through every part of Jack’s body. He howled in agony and collapsed on stone floor, curling into a ball and whimpering from the searing agony.

After a few minutes Tanner was able to collect his thoughts and tried put himself back on his feet, but what he found didn’t make him feel any better.

The first thing he noticed was that his left arm had been torn from just above the elbow. On further inspection it seemed he was absolutely covered various wounds of various size, and much of his skin was burnt.

It looked like someone had tried to set him on fire.

If it wasn’t for his knowledge of fortitude he would likely have died.

He didn’t notice any animal markings yet, the unfortunate result of frenzying for Gangrel, but it was undoubtably somewhere. Though usually the marks faded after a few days of rest, sometimes they didn’t. He’d heard stories of Gangrel elders sleeping for centuries to look human again after a bad frenzy.

Looking around in what Jack figured was the great hall of castle Redcliffe, he could see that it was full of corpses. Most of them looked like regular Ferelden soldiers, and had been pretty obviously killed with a Gangrel’s claws, but two of the bodies were different.

One was a woman, a noble by her clothes, who had had her head caved in. Probably the Arl’s wife, or perhaps Teagan’s wife if he had one.

The other corpse was that of a boy, aged somewhere around ten years old. It looked like Jack had torn him straight in half.

“Oh my God.” Jack whispered to himself. “I can’t believe it . . . I killed a kid. My God, what have I done?” He slumped to the floor. “This isn’t just some bandit or an idiot that attacked me first. It’s not even for the masquerade. This is just Sabbat work.”

A loud snarl from behind a piece of furniture put Jack back on alert as he spun around to face the source of the noise.

It appeared to be Leliana. She looked extremely pale with wild and clouded eyes that stared at him without any recognition. She crouched by the body of a soldier and then . . . plunged her fangs into the neck of the corpse and started to suck out its blood.

It took few moments for Jack to get over his shock at the implications.

She was a Cainite.

Somehow, he had embraced Leliana in his frenzy, and she had gone into her own frenzy from the hunger of a new embrace.

The fact that that was to Jack’s knowledge impossible to embrace during a frenzy could not change the situation in front of his eyes.

How many of these people were killed by Leliana and how many were killed by him was impossible to tell, but perhaps it didn’t matter. He was going to have such trouble explaining all this to her when she came down from her frenzy. Explaining that he might have caused her to kill potential innocents.

“At least it can’t get any worse from here.” Tanner said quietly as he sat down next to a dead soldier.

A glance towards a fallen shield proved Jack wrong. For there, on the polished surface of the shield Jack his reflection. A reflection that had two rather unexpected additions.

Slowly, Jack reached towards the top of his head with his remaining hand and felt . . . fuzzy animal ears.

The frenzy had caused Jack to grow cat ears.

Jack calmly put down his arm, took a deep breath, and started screaming at the top of his lungs.

 

[Urabrask Revealed]

She was a Cainite.

Well, shit, I thought in order to embrace a human, you need to be relativly sane and all that? The human gets sucked dry and then gets a vitae-donation from their sire? Doesn't sound like something a frenzied cainite could do.

I do think that all inhabitants of the castle save the invader were already dead by the time Jack and his partner got there. Doesn't make the Humanity violation any less bitter.

 

[TyrantTriumphant]

Well, shit, I thought in order to embrace a human, you need to be relativly sane and all that? The human gets sucked dry and then gets a vitae-donation from their sire? Doesn't sound like something a frenzied cainite could do.

You are entirely correct with this point. This case is special as, (spoilers for next chapter),

Spoiler

The Ventrue elder Jack previously diablerized, as mentioned in the conversation with Flemeth, takes over his body half way through the frenzy and starts doing his own thing. Diablerie can sometimes cause that sort of problem.

I do think that all inhabitants of the castle save the invader were already dead by the time Jack and his partner got there. Doesn't make the Humanity violation any less bitter.

This isn't true. Those guards were alive but under the control of the desire demon possessing the boy. The woman, Isolde, while not enthralled still cared for her son and tried to get between him and a rampaging Gangrel. In the game, the main character can end up killing the boy, his mother, or neither, but not both. The guards get killed regardless.