Good news. I’m not dead.
Daisy isn’t either, although we’re both in a dreadful state after that church battle.
Our new revolutionary friends carried us through tunnels beneath the city to an enormous magical library, where books floated between shelves and an elderly librarian insisted on sniffing our library cards.
Apparently that’s how he checks they’re genuine.
I was too injured to argue.
Our rescuer introduced himself as Johnny, the Baron’s brother. He’s smaller, angrier and considerably more enthusiastic about revolution.
He showed us the resistance’s war room, which was mostly dust and a map.
We learned that the vampires collect far more blood than they drink. Most gets purified in factories and shipped somewhere unknown.
We discussed poisoning their supply, freeing prisoners and killing vampires in their coffins.
I suggested we might first spend eight hours not dying.
After my unfortunate experience with garlic, I also asked for books on killing vampires.
Unfortunately, the vampires burned most of the useful ones. The surviving books are hidden deep beneath the library, apparently surrounded by monsters.
So that’s tomorrow’s problem.
I’ve conjured a magical hut for us to recover in. Johnny insisted on joining us, despite my warnings about Piss Boy’s sleeping habits.
He did save our lives, so I suppose it’s only fair.
I just hope he doesn’t snore.
Love,
Comments are closed, but trackbacks and pingbacks are open.