Rain battered down on the cottage. It was a small, peasant thing out by the edge of the woods. The building's windows were closed. This kept the lights from shining outside and hid those within.

Inside, a group of mostly men with a few women had gathered. They all wore various lower-class clothes while sitting in shoddy wooden chairs. None of it was as fancy as what a noble would put on. Short swords were on their hips.

"I can't stand this!" one man complained. "All this waiting around, for what? Does the Revolutionary Council have a plan?"

Another boy shot him a glare.

"Have some faith in them. Revolutions aren't easy," he said.

A sad expression crossed his face.

"I hope they got a good plan. The only peasant revolts that worked were ones with small 'nough demands that the nobles didn't think it was worth fightin' over."

Shivering, a woman spoke.

"We're all risking a lot just by being here. If we're found out, it's over for us all," she stated.

The first man grimaced.

"This is still taking too long! Have you heard the rumors? The damn nobles have someone who can control wind on their side! What are we gonna do against that?" he folded his arms and huffed.

A knock came at the door, followed by the crashing of thunder. The people shared various looks.

"It's probably just some traveler looking for shelter from the rain," another woman speculated.

"We are expecting another new member," a man pointed out. "Perhaps she's late?"

"Or maybe someone found us," someone else grimaced.

The largest man in the room, with a war pick on his hip, stood up.

"I'll get it. If it's trouble, I'll handle things," he said.

There was another knock as he walked to the door. Without a single word, the massive man opened his. Outside was a blonde girl of 13. She had a rapier by her hip, and there was a cloak around her body, keeping the rain off her form.

"Is this the Night of the 7th?" the girl asked.

"Yes, it is," the strong man recognized the password. "Come on in."

With a smile that seemed a bit too innocent, the girl stepped inside. She walked over to the others, pulling down her hood to expose her face fully. Then, the girl curtsied.

"It is an honor to be here," her tone was graceful, clearly trained to be so. "I am Lady Eris Hapsburg, and I am here to join you."

Several people in the room stood up, shock coating their faces.

"A noble?"

"What is she doing here?"

"When we were told someone new was joining, we..."

"We knew it was a noble," the second man spoke up. "It's not our fault y'all weren't payin' attention."

His face had a grim expression on it.

"Besides, Lady Hapsburg's not the first noble who joined us. If we get enough of them on our side, the revolution is sure to succeed."

Eris' thoughts were not so friendly.

"A different noble joined these subhumans? What traitor would do that? Or maybe they had the same idea I had, infiltrate and destroy? I will find out sooner or later."

The first man grimaced. He looked Eris up and down.

"I don't buy it with her, and I won't buy it with you. Why would a noble want to join us? I know the Revolutionary Council wants some of you lot in with the new government, but that ain't a good enough reason for me."

One of the women nodded. Her sharp gaze could cut glass.

"Yes. What reason do you have to join us?" she questioned.

Eris turned her face soft, putting on a sympathetic expression.

"It was a long time coming. It started with my fiance, Lord Armand Concord..." she started to explain.

Someone else spoke up.

"Him? That lun..." that person caught himself. "Honored lord who is under the delusion that monsters exist."

"Of course, monsters exist. I saw one myself, years ago," an old man scoffed.

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Another woman folded her arms.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no way monsters are real," she stated.

"Wasn't the Nosfer plague caused by monsters?" a man questioned.

"Just because those monsters are real doesn't mean the others are."

Eris felt a twinge of annoyance.

"It's no wonder these subhumans didn't accomplish anything the last time around. They have a potential infiltrator in their midst and they're arguing about something completely different. This is why commoners need nobles to rule over them. They wouldn't get anything done otherwise," she thought.

The second man loudly cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.

"I think we should let Lady Hapsburg finish her explanation."

Eris curtsied again.

"Thank you," she said. "I understand that my fiance's reputation is mixed due to some of his claims. But the point is that he cares more about the plight of the commons than any other noble. He is part of the anti-serfdom faction, and he freed all the serfs he got control over. I have done the same. Armand's words have filled my heart with sympathy for the commoners."

Some of the people in the room nodded their heads at that.

"Yeah, Lord Armand might be a touch mad, but he's a good man," one of them whispered.

"I'd say," another agreed. "It's a shame that's written over a lot o' his anti-serfdom stuff."

The first man glared.

"I still don't buy it. If he cares so much about us, why doesn't he join us himself?"

"It's one thing to want to end serfdom, and another to want to overthrow the government," a woman added.

"My fiance is acting on his own affairs at the moment," Eris said. "I am joining on his behalf. I assure you that if Armand could join himself, he would. But with the church and Marshal Staufer breathing down his nose, he doesn't have a chance to."

While they were still suspicious, that seemed to be enough for them to let Eris stay. At least, for a time.

Armand rode through the streets of a small village, rain beating down on him. A group of men on horseback were with the boy. Most of them were mercenaries. However, Master Werner was present too.

Stress and worry were pouring through Armand. Hints of suspicion flickered through Master Werner's eyes as he gazed at the back of the noble's head, but the Order of Hermes member said nothing as they rode.

When Armand stopped, a commoner walked up to him. The peasant had a halberd in his hands and wore a cuirass and helmet, clearly marking him as a member of the local militia.

"Mi Lord," the commoner inclined his head. "I heard a rumor that you were lookin' for somethin', goin' from town to town."

"That rumor is true," Armand grimaced before thinking. "But every time my scouts claim they found him, he leaves. That strigoi is one step ahead of me."

He clenched his fists so hard they turned white.

"Luring me in with reports of dead bodies drained of blood, but leaving between the time my scouts arrive and I arrive. Or maybe even leaving sooner. That strigoi must be calling me out. And he's doing it by killing my people. They don't need to kill people when they feed, but this one did. I will enact justice for this."

Concern flashed through Armand's mind.

"I didn't send scouts this time, going straight in myself. That could work, or it could lead me into a trap. But I have some tricks up my sleeve too. If Eris wasn't busy, I'd have risked asking her for help."

Then, Armand addressed the militia man once more.

"Tell me, have people showed up dead in this village? Two holes in their neck, drained of blood?" the noble asked.

In response, the commoner nodded rapidly.

"Yes, mi lord. There've been a few bodies. We've been tryin' to handle it on our own, not bother your lordliness," he said.

"If people ever die under those circumstances, report it to me as soon as you can," Armand ordered. "I do not know how your old lord treated you, but I will not allow my people to suffer."

The militiaman nodded again.

"Of-of course, mi lord!" he said.

Armand's expression was stern. However, it was not without sympathy.

"Take me to where the bodies were found," the lord commanded.

"At once. Right this way, mi lord."

The militiaman started moving. Armand and the others followed him. Master Werner approached the noble with concern on his face.

"Lord Concord, about what that strigoi said at the..." he started.

"Do not bother me about this again," Armand replied with a sharp snap. "The fact that you are still allowed here at all is by my good grace. I would have sent you back to your order if I did not think better of it."

Master Werner took a deep breath before speaking again.

"I understand that you are mad that I brought this creature to your lands and did not fully heed your warnings. I do not blame you for that," he said.

Armand did not respond.

"I'm not mad at you. I knew the risks and I accepted them. I'm more mad at myself for going along with this mad idea. But there's no changing the past now. The only reason why I'm taking you along is so you can have firsthand experience with a kill mission," the Concord boy thought.

"But there could be a greater threat on its way," Master Werner pointed out, choosing his words with care. "The strigoi seemed to think that there was someone in the room with us."

Inside, Armand's heart clenched.

"I know you suspect he was talking about me, Master Werner. It's obvious on your face. You clearly have little experience hiding your feelings. But I cannot let you know that I am a moroi. The fact that Eris knows is bad enough. And if that strigoi tries to reveal it, I might have to kill you. But I have planned for that," Armand thought before speaking. "Killing the strigoi is the higher priority. Focus on that, nothing else. Being distracted on the battlefield will kill you."

Master Werner shivered.

"I am no mercenary..." he started.

"You have made that clear. Stay focused and do not think about anything but finding and killing the strigoi," Armand's voice brooked no argument.

One by one, the militiamen took them to the places where the victims were found. Armand made a mental note of where in the village each of them was. When they were finished, the noble turned his gaze to the center of the town.

His eyes fixed on a church. It was small compared to cathedrals in cities but still impressive for peasants who rarely travel far from their village.

"That is most likely where the strigoi is," Armand said. "It follows the pattern, where we find evidence of it in the basements of village churches."

Master Werner grimaced.

"Such vile creatures, seeking to profane the divine. Nosfer were commonly found in the basement of churches during their plague," he recalled.

Armand placed a hand on his own chin, where he had started shaving as the faintest bits of a beard had begun to grow in.

"Dislike of gods could be it, but I doubt that's the reason. Strigoi are more complicated than Master Werner gives them credit for. And no one interrogated the Nosfer about why they were in the basements of churches. At least, as far as I know, they didn't," Armand thought before speaking. "Militiaman, gather the rest of the town militia and meet me in front of the church. Bring the priest with you. And get as much garlic as you can. If this monster is in your village, we are not letting it get away."

The commoner nodded.

"Yes, mi lord!" he spoke at once and ran off.

As the rain dripped down on them, Armand guided himself, his mercenaries, and Master Werner to the church. He prepared himself for the worst.

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