Summer Showers
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Summer Showers1

It was a quiet summer night in the city of Arabel, a cool mist blowing in gently from the shore of the Wyvernwater. Well… almost quiet. Above the din of cicadas, there was the unmistakable noise of something rummaging about in the garbage behind a butcher’s shop. Dolgar Broadback groaned quietly as he shuffled through his shop, picking up a torch from a sconce and lighting his way in the darkness.

“It’s probably them damn raccoons again,” he muttered to himself, as he opened the back door and shined his torch upon his midnight visitor.

What the light illuminated was not in fact a raccoon, but rather a young girl with short black hair, abnormally pale skin, and piercing blue eyes that reflected the torchlight in their irises. This came as quite a surprise to Dolgar, who jumped backwards instinctively and clutched at his chest, at the same instant as the girl jumped backwards from him, dropping a piece of bone which she had been gnawing the meat off of.

“Moradin’s beard!” he exclaimed. “Ye nearly gave me a heart attack, lass!”

The girl seemed to shrink from Dolgar, but her eyes kept darting back towards the meaty bone she’d dropped in the dirt, evidently unable to make up her mind of whether she should run or continue to eat meat from a butcher’s trash.

Dolgar noticed how fearful the girl seemed, and calmed himself, allowing centuries of dwarven fatherly instincts to kick into gear. He tentatively held out a hand for the girl, who crouched on the cobbles a good distance away from him.

“Come now,” he said. “What ye be doing eatin’ trash for? Ye know I’ve got better food inside, don’tcha?”

The girl seemed hesitant, but the promise of better food was enough to entice her. She cautiously took Dolgar’s hand and stood up, allowing herself to be led inside the butcher’s shop. As they entered, Dolgar mounted the lit torch in a sconce, lighting the interior of the room, and closed the door behind him.

“Ye can’t be goin’ around eating trash out of people’s garbage in the middle of the night, ye know? Yer gonna catch a cold or sumfink! What’s yer name, lass?”

The girl looked down at the floor, and muttered. “Maria…”

“Maria. That’s a beautiful name, that.” commented Dolgar. “Take a seat, Maria. I’ll fetch ye a cuppa tea and sumfink warm for ye to eat.”

Dolgar bustled over to the fireplace on his stout, dwarven legs, and lit it to provide light and warmth to the room. Then, he meandered into the kitchen and began boiling a kettle and cooking a steak over the fire of the oven.

Maria quietly sat down, and absentmindedly looked around the inside of Dolgar’s shop. It was certainly warmer here than it was outside, thanks to the fireplace and what insulation a shelter could provide from the elements. Maria wasn’t quite sure what Dolgar had meant about ‘catching a cold,’ though; the wind had always been kind to her, and she’d never gotten sick.

After a while, Dolgar returned to the table and set a cup of tea and a steak down for Maria, sitting across from her. Maria drooled as she took in the sight of a freshly cooked steak, and began to ravenously tear at the meat with her bare hands.

“Woah there, lass!” exclaimed Dolgar. “Ye don’t be eating with yer bare hands! Use a fork an’ knife!”

Maria seemed perplexed that someone had called attention to her lack of table manners, but nonetheless did as the dwarf asked, picking up a fork and knife and inexpertly cutting at the steak. After a few seconds of effort, she gave up on the cutting, and stabbed the fork into the steak, biting chunks out of the entire slab of meat.

“Ye gods,” sighed Dolgar. “How old are ye, lass? Thirteen, fourteen?”

Maria paused in eating her steak, and looked as though she were thinking. She’d never been very good at keeping track of the time, and truthfully had no idea when she was born, let alone how old she was now. Rather than admit she didn’t know her own age, she chose instead to default to the higher number, because that would make her older and therefore more mature.

“Fourteen,” she mumbled.

“Fourteen years old and yer rummaging about in people’s garbage, eh? Ye haven’t got any parents to go back to?”

Maria quietly shook her head.

“Oh, I’m sorry lass. I meant no offense by it. Well… ye got anywhere to stay the night?”

Maria quietly shook her head once more.

“Right,” said Dolgar, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Well, if ye haven’t got anywhere to stay, lass… I’ve got a free room upstairs, if ye’d like to stay the night. Tomorrow morning we can get ye sorted out. How’s about that?”

Maria nodded, giving a noncommittal grunt of approval.

“Ye don’t talk much, do ye?”

Maria grunted again.

“Alright, alright, I can tell yer more focused on a good meal than chattin’ with an old dwarf. Ye get yerself fed and head on upstairs whenever yer ready. Alright?”

Maria looked up at Dolgar, and nodded again, muttering quietly. “Thank you…”

“Least I could do,” said Dolgar, standing up from the table and heading back to bed.

Maria shortly finished eating, and didn’t touch her tea. She’d taken one sip and decided that she didn’t like the taste. She looked cautiously around the empty room, unsure if she was supposed to be here. Adults were usually never this kind to her, so she couldn’t help but feel as though she was somehow being tricked.

Nevertheless, the prospect of sleeping in a warm bed definitely beat the thought of sleeping outside in the dirt. Maria quietly tiptoed her way upstairs, and found the empty room Dolgar had told her about. It was a quaint little room, with not many furnishings, but there was a comfortable bed with soft, warm blankets, a soft pillow, and a nightstand next to it.

Maria crawled into bed, and thought to herself that she’d never laid down anywhere as comfortable before in her life. In a matter of minutes, she drifted off to sleep…


…and was awoken hours later by the sound of banging on the front door of the butcher’s shop. Panicked, Maria quickly crawled out of bed, and slinked her way over to the door, opening it as quietly as possible. She sidled her way over to the top of the stairwell, and crouched down low to the ground, crawling closer to the edge…

And then, a moment later, she was crawling upside down along the ceiling. She turned her head down, peering into the grayscale of the darkness at the front door. She was able to make out the shape of Dolgar Broadback emerging from his bedroom, lighting a torch in its sconce, and blearily opening the front door.

Standing on the porch was a tall man with straight black hair tied back into a ponytail, light grayish skin, and piercing yellow eyes. Maria wasn’t quite sure what he was, but she was certain that he wasn’t human. He was wearing armor made of black steel, and bore an insignia of a white dragon diving into an ocean of brown flames.

The man spoke in a clear, deep voice. “Good evening, Mr. Broadback. May I enter?”

“What for?” asked Dolgar, suspiciously.

“I apologize for the intrusion. My name is Moreau,” said Moreau, stepping into the butcher’s shop regardless of Dolgar’s answer. “There have been… rumors in Cormyr lately. Surely you’ve heard them?”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” muttered Dolgar, as he was shoved aside by Moreau. Maria was curious why he didn’t seem to object to this intrusion.

“The Zhentarim have been investigating these rumors with a keen eye,” continued Moreau. “There has been talk of… abominations roaming these lands. Zombies, vampires, other sorts of an unholy nature…”

“What’s yer point?” asked Dolgar. Moreau seemed to pay him little mind, instead scanning his eyes around the room, as though he was looking for something.

“Rumor has it that a vampire has recently been spotted making its way towards Arabel,” said Moreau. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Vampire? No, I’m sure I’d know if I’d seen one…” said Dolgar, stroking at his beard.

“Only, you run a butcher’s shop, and vampires are notoriously attracted to blood,” continued Moreau. “Of course, they’d much prefer to drink a man’s blood than a beast’s, but if they were particularly hungry…”

“What’s this vampire yer looking for look like, anyhow?” asked Dolgar, growing agitated with Moreau. “I don’t see why ye need to go barging into my shop lookin’ for something if ye won’t even tell me what it looks like.”

“My apologies,” said Moreau. “The monster takes on the form of a teenage girl. Its hair is black as night, its skin as white as ivory, and its eyes as blue as the moon. Some may be fooled by its perceived beauty, but I know my prey for what it really is.”

Oh no, thought Maria. He’s talking about me.

Dolgar seemed unnerved by this description. “Well, I— I can’t say I’ve seen anyone that looks like that, sir.”

“Hmm. Then you wouldn’t mind if I took a look around, just to be cautious?” asked Moreau. “If you’re sure you haven’t seen the beast, surely you have nothing to hide, after all.”

Through stilted lips, Dolgar replied. “Sure. Take a look around, if it’ll put yer mind at ease.”

Moreau Brightedge began to approach the staircase, almost as if he knew instinctively where Maria was. That was her cue.

Maria turned her gaze towards the lone torch lighting this room, and opened her mouth and inhaled. As she did so, the light from the torch seemed to be gently pulled off of the flame, and soared across the room into her mouth. Though it did not snuff out the flame, it was no longer capable of providing light, and the room was now pitch black.

Then, before Moreau had time to react, Maria pulled out a small dagger from her pocket and jumped down from the ceiling, aiming it at Moreau’s back. A second later, she drove her blade into his spine, knocking him off of his balance, but she was unable to pin the man down to the ground. Moreau Brightedge was considerably stronger than he looked.

Dolgar gasped in shock, as Moreau grunted in pain and swiped Maria off of his back. Maria, along with her dagger, clattered onto the floor, and she quickly scrambled backwards from the man before her as he stood up to his full, imposing height.

“The little devil stabbed me,” remarked Moreau.

“I-I don’t know who you are, but… stay away from me! Leave me alone!” shouted Maria, as she scrambled away from Moreau.

“How amusing, the beast has learned to incite pity in its foes. Hold still, abomination, this will all be over in a minute.” said Moreau flatly, as he approached Maria with a menacing gait.

“Now ye hold on just a minute,” asserted Dolgar, attempting to stand in front of Moreau. “Maria hasn’t done nufink wrong! Ye can’t go around killin’ people on account of ye thinking they’re vampires!”

“A fool’s sentiment,” dismissed Moreau. “We must be ever vigilant against vampiric threats, for they will use great cunning to trick you into believing they mean no harm. No, this problem must be dealt with swiftly and forcefully. Out of my way.”

Moreau effortlessly brushed Dolgar aside, and redoubled his approach towards Maria. Maria swiftly jumped to her feet, trembling, and attempted to run towards the back door whilst keeping her eyes on Moreau.

“St-stay away from me!” she cried, tears rolling down her face. “Don’t hurt me…”

“Hurt you?” asked Moreau, cocking his head to the side. “My dear, I will do much more than just ‘hurt’ you.” He braced his forearm in front of himself, and in a matter of moments, a brilliant golden shield engraved with a symbol of two hands bound together at the wrist materialized, attached to his arm.

The shield began to glow with a holy light which Maria instinctively shielded her eyes from, and began to hiss as the light scalded her skin. This feeling was unfamiliar to her, as she had never been burned by the sun before. This was something far stronger, much more opposed to her unholy nature. She bared her teeth, revealing her fangs, and backed up swiftly from the light.

“And so the beast reveals itself,” commented Moreau. “Do you see, Mr. Broadback? Do you see the vampire for what it really is?”

Dolgar stammered, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“I must say,” Moreau continued, turning his attention back towards Maria. “Your display of fear was rather convincing. It may even have tricked a weaker-minded individual than I. But I see through your deception, monster. Let this world be rid of you, abominati—”

Moreau was cut off, as he was struck over the shoulder with a cast iron pan. Dolgar Broadback stood there, sweating, as Moreau turned his head towards him, his neck audibly crunching.

“Mr. Broadback. I thought I’d told you to stay out of the way.” said Moreau, calmly.

Dolgar said nothing, and merely dropped the pan, retreating out of his own home. He would surely face the ire of the Zhentarim later. But that was a problem for another time. Moreau Brightedge turned back towards his prey—

And found that she had escaped.

“Tch,” said Moreau, dematerializing his holy shield. “I’ll get it next time."


It was a quiet morning in the country of Cormyr. Moreau Brightedge returned to the Zhentarim empty-handed, Dolgar Broadback recovered from a confusing night and anxiously awaited retribution for his reckless actions, and Maria, a half-vampire with no parents and nowhere to call her home, had been driven out of yet another town. This time, she’d even been given a warm meal and a soft place to sleep, and yet that too had been torn away from her. She was beginning to believe that nothing nice in this world could ever be hers.

Whoever my parents are, thought Maria, curse them for ever giving birth to me. I never asked to live like this, as some sort of… monster that everybody hates. I wish I had never been born at all.

Pouting, Maria collapsed at the edge of the Wyvernwater lake, and forcefully threw a small stone at the still water, watching as it skipped across the surface, leaving ripples as it went.

The wind whispered gently as it blew her hair aside, and tenderly caressed her face, soothing her from the worries and wickedness of the world. Suddenly, everything felt like it would be alright. Maybe tomorrow she would try again, in a different town.

Maria sighed. “Well, at least I will always have you…” she said to the wind.

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