Citizens of Carnelian: Satin
Alice Raizel
But my dreams they aren't as empty
That's
never free
—The
Who
Satin
vampire
continental human (deceased)
rogue 6
chaotic evil unaligned
(chaotic neutral unaligned when alive. Satin didn’t actually know she didn’t know she was evil.)
Strength 21
(15 when alive)
Dexterity 20 (16 when alive)
Constitution – (12 when alive)
Intelligence 14
Wisdom 10
Charisma 14 (12 when alive)
noted items:
heavy carnelian rapier
+1 wielded like a two~handed crowbar. leather armour +2,
elegant empty bottle of black
glass previously holding
a potion of survival
When
the rogue Satin came to the Red Carpet Emporium, she didn't quite
know what she was getting into. The madame's "special"
potion
of invulnerability
sounded pretty sweet: any magical device to give an edge in the
competitive world of adventuring is a good idea. Yeah, the price was
suspiciously low, but that just meant Satin didn't have to steal it.
Besides, her sister Anne~Laure was depending on her, as was the rest
of her fledgling adventuring party. And she'd heard of kinkier spell
components than cutting her wrist to contribute some blood. And this
madame was doing the same thing herself, right in front of her, so
why worry? She didn't intend to actually drink
it anytime soon: "no one can ever hurt you" means "one
of those too awesome to use items which gathers dust in an
adventurer's backpack for years". The lady called it a potion
of survival.
Well, that fit Satin pretty well. Surely survival is a thing you
can't have too much of?
Satin
drank the potion
way earlier than expected. A sleazy patron promised a commission
scouring out the dungeon beneath his villa. But then the fucker
pulled up the ladder, locking her and all of her friends down in wild
underdark beneath even the catacombs of Carnelian. Her party got
scattered and lost, but Satin at least wedged herself safely in a
room of stout barrels with heavily locked doors between her and the
monsters. And
then her light went out.
That's when she panicked, deciding this is the disaster threshold
which justifies any option. She uncorked Clarissa's potion and
chugged. That was the last thing she remembered before her world
blacked out.
When
she came to, she felt... better. To
start with,
she found she could see in the dark, which was certainly an
improvement on
the
situation. Secondly, well, things started going right.
It seems someone had sent down a second party
of adventurers looking for her group, and she hooked up with them
quickly despite a little misunderstanding about backstabbing the
leader. Actually, they seemed to like her, and she felt strong enough
to lift a barrel of high street wine for when they got back to the
surface. The madame hadn't lied... she was
fucking invulnerable; she cut her arm with a sword and felt nothing.
And smacking the monsters around was fun.
If only she wasn't so fucking hungry....
Things
started going wrong
when they found Anne~Laure. First of all, the party food her sister
had been carrying was tasteless and inedible; Satin couldn't stomach
it down at
all.
And beside being so hungry, Satin was dying of impatience. Her sister
was clearly useless, a hysterical wreck curled up in a corner, and a
concussion had robbed her of the few weak mage spells she could have
contributed to the situation. Actually, she was worse
than useless: Anne~Laure was taking one of their small band out of
action just to take care of her. Satin couldn't believe the party
leader insisted they keep her sister in the group. Especially as
Satin thought this condottieri
band looked like a keeper. And obviously they wouldn't want her if
she came loaded down with a dead weight. Wait, that gave her an
idea....
Satin
was surprised that everyone objected so much. Pushing her sister off
that underdark cliff was clearly the most sensible idea, and she
would have finished the job before anyone noticed—if
that damn hunger
hadn't paralysed
her senses at the worst possible moment. As it was, the gnoll named
Ryoga saved Anne~Laure's life in one impressive leap, and the
courtesan Chloé Halfelven subdued Satin with overpowering
enchantments. Anne~Laure survived, but she was shocked and sobbing at
what had become of a sister she didn't recognise. Chloe's valet Orion
did his awkward best to care for her.
The
adventurers took Satin back to the Varne's Adventurer's Guild, tied
her up with silver rope, and held what was
for
all practical purposes a trial. Guildmistress Chloé sat everyone
down with boysenberry tea and, for the first time, openly explained
the rules of vampirism. Satin was amazed, actually: nobody had told
her she was a vampire, though thinking about it that did make a lot
of sense. Like being so fucking starving.
Chloé simply explained the empirical truth of the sort of creature
Satin had become, allowing the adventurers to make their own
distinctions of value. The results alarmed Satin: these adventurers
were seriously discussing the options of killing
her
and locking
her up forever in small boring
room.
"Look,
if killing people upsets you all so much, I get it. I totally won't
kill people any more. Now will you please let me out of this chair?
I'm
bored."
But
it turned out that didn't help. The three adventurers made their
decision and, unanimously, voted Satin to death. Her dissent in
protest was interrupted mid~sentence with a stake though her
unbeating heart. Chloé did it; she didn't want the blame of any of
these adventurers' hands on the deed. All that was left of Satin was
a pile of dust. And some sadness in Guildmistress Chloé's eyes, for
the turn her former rival and once~lover had taken. Clarissa—she
now had to accept—was
lost to her forever.
Except
that one of the adventurers really hadn't any ill~will towards Satin,
That was Marc du Quesnay, the leader of the party. For, you see, he
was
a vampire himself. And siding with the others to dispatch Satin was
the best way to allay qualms about his own status.
It
certainly wasn't personal.