Another day of fruitless searching done, I wrapped myself up in my cloak and stepped out into the fresh air. Spring had arrived during our journey to the north, and while the nights were still cool there was no an overwhelming scent of flowers filling Skingrad's streets. Midnight was approaching, the taverns and inns throughout the city were still doing a brisk trade allowing their patrons to drown their sorrows and sensibilities in ale and locally made wine.

  With a single breath the vampire in me took in the smell of baking bread filling the streets, overlaying the deep scent of wine from the vineyards outside the city walls. The evening cool had meant that many homes had their fires lit but unlike other cities Skingrad had the calming scent of burning pine wafting through the air, leaving the city with a very homely and calm feeling compared to many others. I strode onwards into the streets, walking through the flickering lights of dozens of torches hanging from their poles and the odd glimpses of light peeking through curtains of the dozens of multi-story buildings. Gardens and flowers were planted everywhere and now with the arrival of spring, during the day the city was a rush of colours swaying in the breeze, removing the taint of anything even resembling a sewer.

  The nightlife was also lively and strong as everyone from all walks of life would be involved in the dozens of various treats and spectacles. Plays and other such performances could be seen within the city theatre; a rarity outside the Imperial City and it seemed that anything other than the gladiatorial blood sports found within the Imperial City Arena could be witnessed there for those who could afford it. For others with less coin, the taverns and inns of the city were always conducting a brisk trade and their qualities ranged from the usual flea-ridden shacks filled with the lawless and scum of the world, to the upper-class and expensive where the only limit was the weight of your coin purse. Even without my vampiric senses I could hear the overly raucous cries from the tavern down the street, picking up the dozens of thrown insults and curses even as the fight got well underway. As I made my way further down the street it quickly became apparent that insults weren't the only things being thrown, as one of the many patrons soon exited the building via a window. His unconscious form to lay in the gutter as the brawl continued on unabated and I gave a smile to the members of the city guard as they moved towards the tavern, their swords in their sheaths and wooden batons tightly gripped in gloved hands.

  It had not just been the sense of failure and the hours trapped within the suffocating confines of shelving, parchments and paper that had driven me into the night. The desire to feed, the thirst for blood had been building and the last time I had fed was the first day we had arrived in the city. I would not have been able to keep it at bay for much longer and so I had other plans before I returned to Rosethorn Hall and Viconia.

  The thirst was both a need and an addiction. I had seen men and mer alike suffer the effects of their addictions to skooma and other illicit substances and I had also bore witness to the effects of withdrawal. The irritability, the shaking and shivering and the all-consuming need that grew and grew until it was impossible to ignore or resist. Especially those souls' dependant on Skooma, this need drove them to such extremes that they turned on friends and family. In a village near fort Ironhand, I had witnessed one of the locals selling his own wife to the flesh trade for the merest hints of the substance, and I had heard stories of far worse.

  In a terrible way I could relate. The third for blood could be put off and resisted but it would always come to the surface. The longer I ignored it, the greater it would fight and consume my every waking hour until I succumbed. As yet I had not gone for more than five days without drinking blood, but those hours before I finally drank were almost a living hell.

  The beast within me also grew in strength as the thirst did. My senses would slowly improve without conscious effort until I began sensing the beating of hearts and tasting everyone's smells on the air. I would also find my face growing tighter, the bones in my body shifting imperceptibly under my skin and my muscles growing stronger. For the first day or two after feeding I would be content, sated and full but the longer I put it off, the more dangerous I became.

  As I moved through the streets, I was feeling the urge so greatly that I could almost see the blood pumping through the veins of those who I passed. With the merest flicker of will I could make the sense more precise, turning the night time shadows into ghostly greys and seeing the swirling red fibres of life force in all living beings. Instead I supressed it, knowing even as I did so that I would have to feed if I was to maintain control.

  With my thoughts focused on the thirst, it was almost a surprise when I walked around the corner and almost collided with a young woman moving in the opposite direction. Dressed in a flowing silk dress with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she was almost indistinguishable from the dozens of other minor nobility making their way through this particular section of the city. Indeed, other than her attractiveness and rich clothing, the only other distinguishing feature was that she was obviously moving quickly away from something or someone while attempting to not appear as such.

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  At my sudden appearance she yelped in surprise, coming to a sudden and abrupt halt as she looked up into my eyes. Slightly shorter than Viconia, she only just came up to my chin but had none of the steel-like hardness that filled my companion.

  "M'lady." Waving my hand across onto my chest I patting my breastplate just loud enough that the metallic thudding was audible, seeing her eyes widen in response.

  "Oh... um... Good evening."

  I knew from experience that I was somewhat intimidating, but her nervousness was not in response to finding herself face to face with a stranger dressed in grey-black clothing, clad in an ebony breastplate and openly carrying a sword. Her attention was elsewhere, eyes darting back over her shoulder and glancing about.

  A dozen metres down the road, a trio of young men stepped out onto the street from one of the taverns almost exclusively catering for nobility and the wealthy. They looked about the city street, quickly seeing the young woman standing in front of me and moving quickly in her direction.

  My eyes met with hers and while there wasn't fear in them, she was uneasy. Skingrad was one of the safest cities within the Empire, the streets well protected and while this wasn't the usual tavern scenario I was accustomed to from my days in the Legion, it was still unusual.

  "Constadonia? Where are you going?"

  The way she shied away a little from the trio, eyes locked on the one walking ahead of the others. They, also appeared to be minor nobility, out for the evening where they had been obviously sampling the local wine.

  "Home." She said simply, trying to meet their gaze and failing. While nowhere near as inebriated as the other three I could still practically smell the alcohol that she had been drinking.

  "No you're not. You're staying with me as your father wanted."

  The tone was insolent and with a considerable amount of scorn injected into it to cover the annoyance at having his authority tested in front of others. there was also no mistaking the slight quiver in the young woman as she stood there, trying desperately not to step away from the trio.

  "Are you in need of assistance m'lady?" I asked softly, seeing the answer in her eyes as she looked at me.

  "She has no need of help from you, peasant." The ringleader answered, and my decision was made so much easier. Normally I would have continued on without a moment's hesitation and not involved myself in the affairs of others, but the drive to feed was affecting my judgement and such a challenge was like a red rag to a bull.

  Stepping slightly in-between her and the trio, I fixed their leader with a gaze that would have normally provided anyone with second thoughts, but the liquid courage her had been drinking all night had afforded him with more than just a rosy complexion.

  "Obviously manners are a rare commodity these days so I will introduce myself. I am Kaius, and who may you three be?"

  One of the trio stopped like an electric current ran through him at my name and the way I shrugged my cloak away. The mithril-ebony breastplate was not commoner's attire by any stretch of the imagination.

  "So the peasant has armour, am I meant to be impressed?"

  "Ah... Nigenix..."

  "Shut up Melomo." Nigenix; the leader of their little group leaned sideways and gave Constadonia a 'come-hither' gesture. "You. With me. Now."

  She shook her head. "No."

  "No? Who do you think you are to say no to me?"

  "She has every right to say no." I interjected, suddenly becoming their centre of attention again.

  "You need to stay out of this if you know what's good for you."

  "Nigenix..."

  "I said shut up Melomo! Or I'll make you shut up after I deal with this fellow."

  Like many cities within the Empire, Skingrad had laws about the carriage of weaponry and while it wasn't illegal to bear arms, it was still frowned upon to use them aggressively. Normally, the rattling of a sword in a scabbard could be more than enough to be awarded a fine, but this young noble decided to take it one step further and begin dragging his from his scabbard.

  Sixty centimetres of straight steel kissed the air and he held it in a confident, if inexperienced and considerably intoxicated manner. In his world of nobility, balls, and politics he would have been considered to be an able swordsman and of great martial prowess. In my world he was a young man, barely out of his teens with some of the worst judgement I had ever seen and equally terrible luck.

  "I am Nigenix Gratar Agrissaeia Curiosus, heir-apparent to the Barony of Gottlesfont." His sword weaved a slight pattern in the air that I was uncertain whether was because of his drunken state or was some attempt of intimidating sword play. "And you will stand aside."

  My chuckle was enough to leave them all on edge, as I brushed my cloak away, revealing Sunchild's sheathed length at my hip and drawing it in one smooth motion. "I will not stand aside. I am Kaius Treblanus Desin, Knight-Errant of the Order of the White Stallion."

  After a moment of confusion at my actions and the fact that his attention had been solely focussed on the curved Ayleid blade that had appeared in my hand, the coin finally dropped. Whether it was the unique appearance of Sunchild, my knighthood proved by the signet ring or my name itself, all the blood drained from his face with such speed that I was simultaneously surprised he didn't faint or have the ruby liquid begin pouring out of his immaculate shoes.