I.

None of this seemed to phase the figure sitting atop a horse as black as the night which nearly hid him from view. The figure was slight of stature, no more than five and a half feet standing at best. Icy blue eyes gazed out of a sharp featured ivory skinned face, a face chiseled out of alabaster stone for all the emotion on the very attractive aristocratic visage. Her hair was long at black, at present pulled back into a braid that reached to the small of her back. The night was kept at bay by her rich crimson long coat, formfitting and flattering. Beneath that was a black silk poet’s shirt, from the folds of which shone a beautiful silver cross. Black leather pants only served to emphasize her curvy beauty. Fine noble’s black riding boots met her pants at the knee. At her side hung an exquisite silver rapier, on her back a fine ebony composite short bow that not just anyone could have fired. The arrows in her saddle side quiver were silvered, and the bandier she wore carried finely crafted… wooden stakes. She was every bit the strict noble and one did not have to know her name to sense that.

Yet, her name was known. All across the face of the domain of Barovia it was whispered like a dread, even by those who sought out her well known skills, skills that came with a high price tag. She was the Baroness Annika Von Holdt, middle daughter to the Baron Jessick Von Holdt and sole survivor of the bloody Von Holdt massacre of four years earlier. Now, she was the best Vampire Hunter in the domain. People eyes her with equal parts intrigue and awe, but their dread of her far outweighed the two. After all, everyone knew that in one night of terror and bloodshed, the entire Von Holdt household had been slaughtered most horrifically by vampires, and somehow only this daughter had lived to tell the tale. Many whispered that she had made a pact with some dark power, others that she herself had done the deed and gotten away with it. Most, however, did not care to venture a guess and simply looked on her with dread, for surly she was cursed.

The woman who had been a sweet and quiet girl had come away from that night completely changed. She walked away from that carnage, having been tortured nearly to death and staked by hands and feet to the front courtyard to die, a changed person, for in sooth the girl, Ani, had died that night. Everyone knew the tale of how she had then dedicated her every moment to eradicating every last vampire upon the face of Barovia. It was a profession, Vampire Hunting, that took most decades to master, those who lived that long, anyway. And yet, this slight woman had soared through the ranks to now be regarded as the best in the land. It was for that reason alone that folks tolerated her dark and cold presence, and for the fact that she saved them the trouble of being savaged nightly by the vile creatures of blood lust, the Vampires.

These thoughts were not the ones that dominated the focus of the still woman who sat atop her black warhorse staring out over the motionless night at the stone fortress on the high hill about a quarter of a mile from where she was located. Rather, she was waiting for the foolish creature that was about to make a grave mistake.

As sure as sunlight killed the creatures, she was rewarded for her patience. From a secret passage that led out at the base of the hillside issued a solitary figure. He was, even by the meager light afforded, pale as paraffin, cast in the hue of new death. This was not the mighty Lady of the manner, but rather her newest toy. The boy had disappeared from the village two weeks pervious, and the poor folk had sent for her to rid them of their problem. The Lady had been preying upon them for long enough, and having now taken the pride of their children, a comely youth with the promise of a bright future, they had finally broken. Knowing the vampire mistress was old and powerful, they had pulled together ever gold they had ever saved to purchase the skills of the best.

This boy was new to his unlife, unskilled and still relatively weak in comparison to his mighty mistress. Annika silently drew out her bow and fit it with one of her costly heart seeker arrows. She’d watched him for three nights now, tracking him in silence, learning his ways. It was only a matte of moments before he took the path that led him to where she sat waiting. The only sound was a whisper as the arrow cut through the night and flew straight and true to its target. The Vampire boy screamed and writhed, falling to the ground where he lay motionless.

The Vampire hunter dismounted, bow still in hand. She knew well enough than to let her guard down. Ever. She made her silent way over to where he had fallen with a cold stillness to her features. She checked the body. He was dead, truly. With not even a flicker of emotion, she drew out her silver rapier and in one fluid movement like artistry severed his head from his body. She then placed the head in a bag at her belt, put away her bow and sword, and set about the unpleasant task of securing the body to the back of her horse. A task that would have given most full grown men pause troubled the nineteen year old not one bit. She was far stronger than she looked.

That done, she placed the bag with the head in it in one of her saddle bags and mounted, heading back to the town to collect her fee.

II.

“Hush, ye old fool. She’s still a noble, ‘spite it all. Them folks don’t never take well to the likes of ye talking low of ‘em.” The woman who scolded the rough patron of Elmore’s only Inn, the Frothy Tankard, was of middle age, plump, and of ginger hair that had more than a few streaks of gray in it. Several of the other regulars joined the man in his laugh at her comment.

“There’s none gonna tell ‘er, even if she’s not got herself killed by the Lady. Don’t no one wanna have more to do with ‘er than they have to. Noble born or not, she’s cursed. You know the story ‘s well as I, Tamera.” There were several tankards raised by the scattering of men who shared Tom’s point of view.

Tamera, the bar mistress, surveyed the Inn with appraising brown eyes. The Inn had seen better days a long time ago, and to say that it was quaint and small was very charitable. Like in any mountain village in the domain, it was a small stone building consisting of two floors. The main common room could hold almost a hundred people, which was why it served as a meeting hall when there was need. Behind the bar was a small but adequate kitchen with a back door that led out to the yard and small stable. The upper floor had eight rooms for guests, as infrequent as they were.

She sighed. “Yeah, I’ve heard them. I don’t know how much I believe of it though. Baron Von Holdt’s daughter… turned into one of them? Killin’ the whole family? S’ a mighty big tale to be believing, even for ye.”

Tom was not to be dissuaded. “I met a man from ‘round those parts, even seen Castle Ravenloft in his day, he did. He said he was there that night four years ago when folks heard the commotion and the screaming in the night. He said he never seen something so horrible, and that girl was near to dead by the time they got there. He figured her sister musta’ been savin’ her for last, made her watch while she slaughtered all the others.”

The man seemed to delight in the nauseous look on the bar mistress’ face, as he pressed on. “Can’t no one live through summat like that and not be a little twisted by the darkness, says I. Vampire Hunter or nay, I say it’d be a kindness to the woman if she met ‘er end here. Powers know enough of ‘em Hunters have died before her trying to kill the Lady.”

“Perhaps so,” came a soft voice from behind him. “But fate, it seems, is not kind this night.”

Tom dropped his mug, having been too much enjoying his tale to have noticed the unnatural silence that had fallen over the Inn. She hadn’t made a single sound when she had entered, nor as she walked. The voice which had answered his slight was soft, but not angry. In fact, it was the lack of any emotion at all that made it so chilling. The woman about whom everyone had been so cheerfully gossiping set a black sack on the bar. She completely ignored Tom and the other patrons, focusing her intense attention upon Tamera.

“Have word sent to the boy’s parents that they may prepare a proper funeral rite. Then, have someone remove his body from the back of my horse and take it to them. Here,” she said indicating the bag on the bar, “Is his head. He will return to trouble you no more.” Annika turned and made for the stairway that let to the second floor, and the small room she was renting during her stay without a single glance at the silently staring folk in the inn. The place could have been completely deserted for all the attention she paid them.

“Milady,” Tamera called after her when she had gotten about half way up the stairs, “Have ye’ destroyed the Lady, then?”

Silence, and then, “Tomorrow.”

III.

As was part of her evening ritual, the Vampire Hunter was sitting at the small and ill kept writing desk in her Inn room, keeping meticulous notes of the day’s events and her observations thereof. Her inks and quills were placed just so, as well as her things. She knew exactly how many steps it would take to reach her sword, and from there precisely how many more to either the door or window for an expeditors retreat. Nothing in her life was unplanned or left to chance. She knew very well that such behaviors were exactly what got people killed in her line of work.

The blue eyed woman looked down at the half filled page before her, having paused in her steady flow of script, rereading the last paragraph.

Still no word on where I might find Anya. I had held some hope that as I made my way back toward the North of the land, I might hear word; for I am now only a five day hard ride back to the lands of my Father. Yet, like a wisp of fog in the coming of dawn, I find nothing but rumors and memories. The Undead eludes me, and no matter how many of them I kill, or how hard I train, I remain no closer to my ultimate goal.

She sighed and set down her quill, feeling the fatigue of four very long days wearing upon her. If she was to indeed face the Lady then she would need her rest. She would also need to find herself at least two other minor Hunters to go with her. That displeased the dark haired woman a great deal.

Annika detested working with others. It was not that she did not like people in general; she simply had little use for them. Her soul purpose in life was the systematic eradication of every vampire upon the face of Barovia. Anyone or anything that got in her way was nothing more than a nuisance. She took her work very seriously, and was very detail oriented. She was also a pragmatist. She was aware when a job required more than one set of eyes, even of one of those sets were hers. Thus, it became necessary to team up with other minor Hunters or adventurers some of the time.

Usually, things went off relatively well. She was confident enough in her own abilities, that she felt assured that she could compensate for the inevitable errors of those with whom she was working. However, from time to time they made large mistakes, and she did not bail them out. A score or more had died while on a mission with her, and not a one of them weighed upon her mind. Nature had a way of choosing the strongest to survive, and in her line of work there was no time to nurture the weak. Doing so usually only resulted in one getting one’s self dead as well, and she was ill despised to that idea. So, she worked alone whenever she could, and silently accepted it when she could not.

It was as this thought was going through her mind that she heard a knock at her door. It was almost midnight, and few folk ever dared to disturb her. She ignored the knock.

Again it came, this time more persistent. Annika frowned, but quickly recovered and schooled her features back to their usual blankness. On silent feet she crossed the room and opened the door. As surprised as she was to see the figure before her, the only outward sign of her feelings was a slightly raised eyebrow. She said nothing, bur waited for him to speak.

“You don’t ever change, do you, Annika?” Said the slightly amused voice of the comely man standing in the shadows of the hall.

He was roughly five foot ten, lithe, but well muscled. Mid length scarlet hair had the annoying habit of falling in his face, obscuring his perpetually roguish grin and keep hazel eyes. He looked to be roughly twenty five, give or take a year. Annika knew him to be twenty nine, but he didn’t look it. Dressed after the manner of a ranger, he carried a pair of mismatched short swords upon his back and a crossbow at his side.

Still she simply looked at him and did not answer. This did not seem to faze him one bit, however. He leaned against the doorframe casually.

“I heard you were in the area, so I decided to stop in and see if you wanted to grab an ale or something.” His smile would have made any other maiden swoon on the spot. Annika, however, just stared at him evenly.

“What do you want, Rand,” she asked in her same level tone.

“What?” He asked with mock indignation. “Can’t a guy stop by and visit an old friend?” The ranger was still grinning.

“You know full well that I never drink when I’m on a job. What do you want?” She still had not moved, or made any indication that she was going to let him into the room.

Finally, his smile faded and a look of concern flickered behind his hazel eyes. “I heard you were heading up to the fortress. Is that true?” He crossed his arms and regarded her candidly, knowing that she would never lie.

“Yes.” She did not elaborate.

“You’re going to need help. That place is a nightmare.” When she did not respond he pursed his lips and went on. “I know you hate working with people, but let me go with you on this one. We’ve worked well together before; better me than someone you don’t know.”

Annika regarded him in silence for a long time. What he said was true, but she didn’t have to like it, and wasn’t inclined to let him come. He was good, that was true, but she had other reasons for refusing him.

“Forget it.” She turned to close the door, but he put his hand on the door to stop her.

“Annika, don’t be ridiculous!” He braved the look of murder she gave him to make another plea. “Look, I’m going to follow you up there anyway, whether you let me come or not. You may as well have me with you from the start. It’ll save you time.”

She sighed, a look of cold calculation on her face.

“Please? I don’t know what you’ve got against me all the sudden,” he finished.

“I leave at day brake. If you’re not at the crossroads South of town by then, I’m leaving without you.” With that, she shut the door in his face and went back to her bed. She lay on it staring up at the ceiling for a long time.

I don’t have anything against you, except for the fact that you talk too much. The problem is I’m getting to like having you around, and I can’t have that. I can’t afford to care, not about anyone. The thought gripped her, would not let her go. This is the last time, and then never again. I can’t afford to care if you live or die, Rand. You don’t matter to me, no one does.

A tiny voice in the back of her head whispered, “Are you so sure?”

An image of golden eyes as pure as the sun flashed in her mind, and a cascade of golden hair. Alabaster skin and beautifully pointed ears went with those eyes… eyes that had swallowed her soul, made her theirs even as they had saved and damned her all in one moment.

Annika shook the image forcefully out of her mind. She couldn’t afford to think about that right now… couldn’t afford to think about him. After all, he was first on her list of people she had to track down… and kill.

Jander Sunstar, the one she loved more desperately than anything in all her life. An elf, and a vampire.

IV.

If the sun was afraid, the figure silently closing the door to her room in the Frothy Tankard was not. People were only afraid if they had something to lose, and Annika Von Holdt had nothing. Even her own life was of little value to her, which was part of what made her so deadly an enemy to the creatures she dedicated her life to hunting. Someone with nothing to lose was fearsome, and made few of the emotionally motivated mistakes others did. She could look at any situation with a completely calculating eye and make decisions with discriminating cost/outcome analysis.

Her steps made no noise as she moved like a shadow down the darkened hall to the stairway. As she had requested, the young Hunter who had taken her offer to join her was waiting at the bar, garbed and ready to depart. Annika did not say a word, but gave the girl an appraising look.

She was roughly twenty-three; older than Annika by four years, and yes she was the junior seeming of the pair. Her short cropped blonde hair was hidden under a hardened leather helm, which matched her full leather armor. A particularly high and tough gorget protected the girl’s neck, very useful for one whose profession was hunting vampires. Cool brown eyes stared out of an intelligent face, marred only by a long scar that ran from the bridge of her nose to her right ear. The girl carried a great axe on her back, as well as a hand and a half sword at her side, with a crossbow at the other. Being almost five foot eleven, she towered over the slight form of Annika.

“You are Jenna.” It was less a question than a statement. The warrior nodded. “Marek said you’re a fair hand, which is why I agreed to take you on. However, you’re on your own if you get into trouble. You follow directions and we should not have any problems. Start acting like a hero, and I’ll leave you there to die.” Annika’s gaze was hard, unrepentant.

Jenna, a fighter priestess, could understand why this slight woman had a reputation in the Hunting world. Most of those who had live through working with her knew very well that she was a cold one without any sense of humor at all. Most of them disliked her clinical attitude about people, and her unyielding admission that she could care less who lived and who died, as long as they killed the vampire. Everyone could agree on one thing: she was good. None of them could contest that she approached Vampire Hunting with a single minded dedication that no one else could match. If you wanted to learn the best tricks in the trade, Annika was it, but one mistake usually meant getting killed, so there was a dangerous learning curve.

“Do we have a third?” Jenna asked following the soft footed Hunter.

“Rand Londale. He will be meeting with us at the Crossroads.”

“Rand Londale? That jester? You’ve got to be…” One icy look back from Annika killed the rest of the fighter’s comment, and she mounted her charger in silence.

It was hard to believe that the silent and cold hearted Von Holdt had agreed to work with the Ranger well known for his silly antics and womanizing ways. Still, Jenna had never heard anyone disparage his abilities as a fighter or tracker, so maybe here was more to him than there seemed. This outta be interesting to say the least, she thought as they road south out of town.

True to Annika’s prediction, Rand was indeed waiting for them. He was armored in a fine chain shirt under his traveling cloak, and had a more serious look on his face than he had worn the night before when he had pestered the silent Hunter to let him come with. He smiled when the pair came to a stop to make their greeting.

“Ladies,” he said with as much of a flourishing bow as he could manage while mounted on his brown morgan. He didn’t recognize the amazon proportioned Fighter, but gave her one of his most winning smiles anyway, and true to form she could not help but return it with one of her own accompanied by a blush. He hadn’t expected Annika to respond, and she didn’t.

“We’re making for a secret passage I noticed the other night,” she explained when Rand turned to her ready to be on their way. “It should only take us an hour to get there from here through the wood. That should give us at least nine hours of daylight in which to assault the Vampires within. They should be well into their sleep by the time we get there, leaving mostly there daylight guardians to contend with.”

“I assume you already know what we’re up against,” Rand said as they rode. He knew she did, Annika didn’t leave that kind of thing to chance.

“I noticed at least half a dozen flesh zombies outside, as well as some choking vines. I’m sure there’s more than that there though. This Vampire has been here a long time; she has had a long time to wage her psychological war on these people. No one’s tried to kill her in almost a decade, and she’s assured that the tales of her power alone will scare off any would be Hunters.” An almost smile pulled at the corners of Annika’s lips.

If she had found one truly fatal flaw in the Undead, it was their hubris. The older they got, the more powerful. This made them grow confident of their own mastery over the humans they saw as nothing more than cattle. Even the occasional Hunter was of little matter to them, easily dealt with by the monstrous guardians they kept to guard their decadent abodes. This, in Annika’s mind, made them all the more killable. They could still die, and both sunlight and a stake to the heart would kill a five hundred year old vampire as a neonate.

“Within, we can be sure to meet up with a few ware wolves, so I hope you brought your silver. Expect traps and lesser vampires as well.” She pronounced all of these things with absolutely no concern in her soft voice, monsters that chilled the bones of humankind and terrorized their darkest nightmares rolled off her tongue as if they were spring flowers to be picked.

“Oh is that all,” Jenna muttered under her breath. She had known this was going to be a hard job, but the money made it worth the risk. If Annika heard her, she made no response. Rand, however, gave her a roguish wink.

“Don’t worry. Little Annika here’s got a plan. She’s always got a plan. It’d take more than that to put a wrinkle on her brow.” He grinned.

Perhaps, the fighter thought, but any one of those things can kill her as well as us. I hope she’s as good as everyone thinks she is. This is a job for a party twice this size.

That thought in mind, silence settled over the trio as they entered the dark wood that surrounded the hilltop fortress. There was no sound, not of animal or wind. Even this sun found this place too haunted to shine there. Into that darkness they rode, and the lone trapper who spied them remarked to himself that it was likely he was the last person who would ever see them alive.