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Summary of the previous episodes:
Viorel has been tortured by his
supposed family who wanted to have him burn in the sun. Strangely
enough the sun didn't burn him as expected but Viorel has no memory of
who he is. Following the advices of his supposed father, he left
Sighișoara and is now traveling to the West. After some skirmish in a
previous city, he found refuge on a boat. Viorel is now in Vienna. The
little problem is that the guy at the inn was a bit of an asshole
and helped capture Viorel thinking he was a vampire, which he is but
nobody needs to know. Now there is a huge man (which I call the colossi)
taking care of Viorel and a priest. They brought a girl. Torture my
holy water... Fail. Viorel managed to confuse everyone, now he would
like to get out of here. But the girl seems pretty useless. They still
managed to escape and he left the girl to the care of the boat lady
before going back to have two words with his captors but his power of
persuasion were failing him. The priest wanted to crack a
deal but Viorel is not really up to help his enemies. He finally got
some blood but he can't risk to stay in Vienna. He travel to Linz were
he stays a bit to learn German. Viorel wanted to go to Praha but redirect himself toward Augsburg
instead where he wants to get a horse, except that the horses are a bit
scared of his vampirism and maybe something else. Viorel is really not a
horse expert. Then he comes into an altercation with couple of people,
he wants some fear in his blood. The girl Viorel has found seemed to enjoy the game. Viorel prepares for the nightmares that come with a feast of blood, in a rush to leave, he cross the dukedom of Lorrain.
Now, let's continue with Vampire Heart, right where we left of last week.
This week is a little bit shorter than usual, because next week you're in for something new, still from Vampire Heart.
Crossing the dukedom of Lorrain was fast. I was heading to Paris and I could feel the change in the people around. In the country side seeing a foreigner like me was not common and feeling their eyes on me was not comfortable. I had to warn people in the inns about my nightmare and I still end up being kicked out in the middle of the night, in pajama with my horse by a inn owner who couldn’t bear with me waking up yelling in horror. I dressed up in a hurry half expecting to see all the robbers of the region swoop down on me. But they didn’t I continued my night quietly walking toward the west with my horse hoping to reach Paris and the more educated society soon.
Unfortunately, my arrival in Paris was not as glorious and problem free as I had expected. The money my father had left me wasn’t enough to allow me to reach the high class of the society I seemed used to associate with after letting my horse in a farm where they promised to keep him for me when I would come back. I ended up in the only palace broke foreigner like me where likely to live. It was called “la cour des miracles” in French. It was the place for all low life, murderers, streetwalkers, robbers, and criminal of all kind, it was not uncommon to see a legless beggar running away after stealing the purse of a gentleman who had the bad idea to come too close, or the end of hand of a one-ended man pass behind is coat or newspaper to get the handkerchief or necklace of a lady. I was glad to have fresh blood running in my veins where I arrived there otherwise I would probably have died long ago. They were moving in teams, kidnapping people to claim money in exchange and with my nice clothes I was the dream target. I soon learned to stay quiet in the middle of them and observing them I learned what not to do.
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