Anya Arnimane, the farmhand.

[Little Lotte]

Her bright ruby red hair shone in the setting sunlight as she led the last of the horses into the barn, this one was her favorite, her stallion. Carlisle. He was a pure bred appaloosa male, covered in spatters and spots. Anya loved him, he reminded her of a full canvas but something you couldn’t make any sense of.

She led him into his stall, giving him a tender passing pat on his long face before shutting the gate and locking it. This was her evening ritual after completing all her chores for the day, to take her horse out for a run and then spoil him with carrots and whatever else she could steal from the pantry without her pa noticing. She brushed her hair behind her ears as she closed the barn doors and headed for the main house, her leather boots moving silently in the dirt. Lithly she leapt up the stairs and threw open the door to the house, a slight smile on her lips as she thought over the day. As soon as she entered the house she knew something was off, she felt it. It was quiet, too quiet. The only sound to be heard was the old clock hanging on the wall…tick…tock…tick…tock….

“Pa?” Her voice carried through the house like the wind as she walked down the hall, her dusty leather boots making no sound on the wood floor. Her forest green eyes flicked rapidly around the house taking in the scene. Everything was normal, except for the eerie silence. She checked all the rooms of the house silently, finding each and every one empty until she came to her fathers bedroom. He was there lying on the bed, completely still. She grinned ever so slightly and moved quickly over to him putting her hands on his massive chest to wake him, but when she put her hands on him she knew instantly something wasn’t right.

“Pa?!” her voice instantly frantic as she begin shaking him gently at first and then as the fear and bile rose into her throat she began putting her weight into the shaking, his huge form rocking back and forth on the bed. “Wake up!” The more she shook him the harder it became for her to control herself and tears sprang from her eyes and glided down her face freely. Her red rimmed eyes roamed slowly up to her fathers face, taking in everything. He looked perfectly normal, his eyes, so like hers, were even closed as if he was just taking a nap. She crawled up onto the bed with him and put her arm across his stomach and her head on his chest, and just lay there listening to her own breathing.

It only felt like minutes but must have been hours when her eyes  slowly opened, her head still resting gently on her fathers chest. It took her a moment to gather her wits about her and realize that his body was starting to get colder, and it would be difficult for her to move as it was anyway. Taking a deep breath she slid down off the bed and looked him over once more before grabbing the four corners of the blankets and yanking him slowly and laboriously off the bed. She managed to drag him outside, only having to stop three or four times to catch her breath, and down the stairs to the side of the house. She then retrieved a shovel from the barn, the horses whickering a greeting to her as she swiftly ran in and out. Once back to the side of the house she began digging at a slow and steady pace, sweat forming on her brow and dripping down her face to land in the soft dirt below. After about an hour of digging and about five feet down she climbed out of the whole and looked down at the corpse of her father still wrapped in the blanket. She chewed her lower lip and ran a hand through her sweat soaked red hair, sighing softly.

“Ahm sorreh a cin’t give ya a proper burial Pa…but…this beh all ah cin manage riogh’ now. Ah’ll do mah best ta keep things goin’ normalleh ‘roun’ ‘ere…” Her voice soft and quite unsure. “Ah love ya Pa, may ya rest in peace.”

She moved to the side of his body and rolled him into the hole, his body hitting the bottom with a sickening thud. As she picked up the shovel to begin covering the hole, the skies overhead darkened with threatening rain. Once done, she returned the shovel to the barn, locking the doors again and making her way back into the main house yet again. Moving into her fathers “office” as he called it…she liked to call it the kitchen, where all of the papers on the farm were, she sat down and looked over the payments and who owed who what. She sighed softly as the rain began pelting the wooden shingles of the roof, and laid her head down on the table, her eyes closing rapidly, the events of the day finally catching up with her.

One month later, she lost the farm.

[Little Lotte]

My eyes flew open as the thunder cracked over our heads, loud and commanding. The rain was pelting against the side of the inn angrily, but I didn’t have a care in the world. Dragos’ muscular arm was wrapped protectively around my waist as we lay together under the thick wool blankets, his breathing was soft and rhythmic in my ear. Usually listening to the even tones of his breath lulled me to sleep, but tonight that wasn’t happening. My mind was reeling with the events of the night, something had happened that I never in my wildest dreams would ever have imagined.
Dragos had asked me to marry him.
All my life I had never considered myself the marrying type, the one to settle down..it just wasn’t me. I grew up on a farm, with only a father; my mother having died in childbirth trying to give me life. Truthfully I was bloody terrified of commitment. To me it meant, marriage…and babies…people die having babies. So I grew up content in the idea that I would never have to go through what my father went through, finding someone you loved so completely only to lose them in the most painfully horrendous way possible. 
I thought I was safe from those feelings, they weren’t something I had ever actually wanted. I had been in a so called “relationship” with Card, and it was easy to pretend that it meant nothing. He had been a good man, always treated me with respect, like I was a lady…I wasn’t used to it, nor did I particularly like it…in the end, he made it pretty damn clear that he was not the one for me. In the end he turned into a job, a job I used to impress my boss. And he was impressed, so impressed it ended with us at Midway…drinking whiskey…buying a room key…and well…we were up all night.
We kept it casual, hell I even asked him if we could sleep with other people. We tried to focus on our work, me selling in the Outskirts, him dealing with auctions and members. Working together though did nothing but make it harder for us to be apart. When we let the cat out of the bag, so to speak and other people knew we were “together” our own feelings began to develop, and they went deep. And we were scared as hell.
So here I am lying next to the man who has asked me to marry him, a man who I cannot possibly imagine living my life without. Dragos let out a soft snore as he pulled me closer, his fingers slightly digging into my stomach as he tightened his hold. Scooting closer to him, my thoughts continued to linger on the most interesting fact of the night. It wasn’t the fear that I had about committing, or even what people would say since he was my boss. It was the fact that I didn’t want to lose this man, in any way shape or form and that fact alone had helped me make my choice.
I had said yes.

[Little Lotte]

She swung deftly from balcony to balcony, her gloved hands gripping at the railings as her body soared through the air. This she was used to, it reminded her of when she would swing through the branches of the trees at home, when she didn’t have to worry, when she didn’t have a care in the world. But that was a lifetime ago...in real time, only eleven months. Now she was living in the city of Luskan and the term living was used very liberally. She spent her days now scouring the tavern kitchens for leftover food or working odd jobs just to earn enough to eat; and her nights were spent spying. She worked for a scumbag smuggler named Joey, he didn’t pay her nearly well enough for what she had to put up with but it kept her occupied for the most part.
   Perched on a second story balcony, she kept her dark hood up to cover the bright red hair underneath, her dazzling green eyes searched the docks below her. She was never very skilled with her eyes, sure she could see the normal things with them but to spot anything out of the ordinary, forget it. Anya’s talents lay in her ears. She could hear things when others couldn’t, judge distances just by listening to the echo off a building.
 The salty sea air clung to her skin, making it moist and slick, and her lips crack slightly. The wind blowing off the ocean whipped her cloak behind her with a soft clap before settling against her back. The task she was tending to at the moment involved smugglers, cut throat smugglers. If they caught her spying on them they would certainly see to slitting her throat right then and there, so she hugged the shadows desperately. Just then she heard a voice in the alley below her, muffled but clearly male and they were discussing the newest shipments coming in from Calimsham. This was her mark. With the greatest of ease she leapt over the side of the building, landing silently on the cobblestone with a graceful tumble and instantly spinning into the shadows letting them envelop her as she kept her bright green orbs on the two men speaking softly down the alley from her. After a few moments they began walking towards the docks, both having swaggers in their steps as if walking on land was new to them, obvious seamen. She followed quietly, her soft leather boots making no sound as she moved behind them, her hand resting on her short sword at her hip, just in case.
Using the buildings as cover, she kept to the shadows, her lips pursed in concentration as she tried to figure out a way to get on the ship the two men were walking to, without being seen. She was mulling over the possibilities, the risks of getting caught when a soft fog started rolling in on the ocean. She paid the sudden haziness no mind as it was the coast and fog was natural, she had learned that in her months living in the city. It was when the fog started thickening around her ankles that she became slightly alarmed. Keeping her eyes on her mark, she watched the two men board the ship, preparing to unload the very cargo she was supposed to inform Joey of. Taking a step forward, towards the ship she was suddenly and violently yanked onto her back, landing roughly and knocking the breath from her body. She looked around frantically for her assailant, her eyes darting from crate to crate, searching…but no one was there.
She attempted to push herself up but something was keeping her pinned as the mist crawled over her body as if to cover her from view. She couldn’t scream and give away her position so she fought the invisible force that was keeping her immobilized, as the mist grew ever thicker around her. Suddenly it was as if the mist was grabbing her, moving her away from everything she knew, then suddenly her world went black.

[Little Lotte]

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” she screamed at nothing visible to the naked eye, but her bright green orbs saw it. Her. The one responsible for her loss of sanity, loss of job, loss of life. It was her, looked just like her, only…smoother. Anya sat on the damp ground of the Sullen Woods looking at her shadow who sat just in front of her mirroring her movements, but speaking when not spoken to.
   “You cant do this Anya, you are weak.” The shadow repeated over and over to her, her voice soothing and warm. She was very obviously trying to lull Anya into a false sense of security. “I will win this battle.”
   Anya shook her head, her wet hair, stringy and limp, swayed lifelessly with her head. Gouges on her cheeks from where Kenny Barush had nearly ripped her face off just the other day, along with the acid that splattered all over her burning the skin. She didn’t feel the need to see a healer, not when she had more important things to do. Her life was at stake. The Vardo was her life, if she didn’t get her issues in check, she was done.
   “Yer wrong, ahm strongah.” Anya’s trademark accent sailed out of her chapped lips softly, she had to believe what she was saying or else the thing would win.
   A soft, girlish giggle emanated from the shadows mouth, so like Anya’s it was terrifying to look at. “He will leave you. He already thinks you are insane. Why would a man want to deal with that? Especially a man like Dragos.”
   Anya’s emerald eyes darkened dangerously as she stared out at the space where her shadow was sitting, her teeth gritting tightly together as her twin spoke so carelessly about Dragos. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she closed her eyes taking deep breaths. “Ya ain’t real. Ahm in control.” She steadied herself, repeating over and over again in a soft voice, hoarse from the strangling she received the day prior. “Ahm strong, ahm strong.”
   She could feel her shadow surrounding her now, touching her gently. Her hair moved upon her shoulders as a hand brushed along her back, then caressed her cheek gently. “You cant keep me away Anya, you need me.” The soft voice, so like Anya’s floated away on the wind and she opened her eyes to find her shadow had disappeared.
   She let out a breath with a hitch, her posture slumping over as if suddenly tired. Dark circles had taken up residence under her eyes since her demotion, lack of sleep and constantly working to prove she had what it takes were taking a toll on her.
Her shadow would be back, back to try once again to claim her life, she knew that, but for now she had won. This was a battle she would be fighting for entire life, but all she had to do was get in under control. Be able to look at a shadow and not see the evil woman inside of her, the one trying to force her to do things that could potentially hurt the only people she cared for.
All she could do now was continue the meditation methods that Thraxys had said helped to gain control, there was nothing else she could do, short of admitting herself to the asylum. She was

[Little Lotte]

She hadn’t moved from the wrought iron chair in the tiny café since Dragos had left for Barovia ,and she wasn’t planning on it. She was doing this for him, always for him. He was worried what Marle and the fifth would do to her since she wasn’t baptized by Ezra, worried that their marriage wasn’t blessed In  the eyes of Ezra. Dragos himself didn’t care, he wasn’t religious in the slightest, he was just worried for her well being.  Marle seemed obsessed with her ability to dance between the shadows, as if she wanted to experiment on her.
   Anya on the other hand, she was quite upset by it. She had stood up to Marle about not wanting to be baptized, and it had cost her two stab wounds to the chest. The more she thought about it, she should’ve finished the fanatical wench and hid her body where no one would ever find it. But here she was sitting in Port-A-Lucine, considering letting the one person she hated more than anything, baptize her for the sake of her husbands sanity.
   She had left Dragos and Laylynn in an angry huff, heading for Dementelieu to find Marle. She walked straight to the Ezrite church at the top of the city and sat down quietly in one of the pews, and collapsed into herself. Anya never let anyone know this one secret, she kept it quiet for the sake of her job and her husband who would never understand.
“Chauntea, you have done so much for me. You are the reason I am alive today. But I must do what I can to see that both myself and my husband are safe.”
She had then stood up in the pews looking up at the stained glass window of the church.
“Forgive me mother. You will forever be in my heart.”
So here she continued to sit, in the tiny Café waiting for “Saint” Marle to make her appearance. She wouldn’t believe, she would never believe.

[Little Lotte]

It was only a few hours ago that she was holding the invitation to the Castle in her hand, the signet ring of the Red Wizard dried in the red wax on the paper. She had frantically searched for Dragos, her heart racing in her chest as she bellowed through the halls of their home. He came to her instantly, taking the parchment from her clenched and sweaty hand, his dark brown eyes reading over the words, his brows knitting together roughly.

   Valio had invited them to join him at Castle Ravenloft. When she read the words her stomach dropped…first there was the red dawn, then the lack of poison in the choking mist. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

   It was decided instantly that they would go, see what was happening. That was one of their downfalls, information. Dragos silently walked over to the massive desk in the corner and sat down to pen two different letters, both saying much the same thing. One was addressed to Kalmah/ Selena, the other to Strydel. It detailed where they were going, what their invitation had said…and gave instructions on what to do should they not return.

   Handing the letters to Nelu they grabbed their packs and set off down Old Svalich Road. On the way there they passed by the obnoxious elf Celor. Anya paid him no mind as she so often did, he was an idiot anyway, always running his mouth when he shouldn’t. He would meet his end soon, if it wasn’t her then it would be someone else. They silently passed Midway Haven, their nerves on edge as the silhouette of the castle loomed in front of them.

   Their footfalls hastened as they moved in closer, passing through the choking fog unharmed and taking the steps to the castle two at a time. Anya was compelled to use her protective scrolls, but watching Dragos stride confidently up to the gates squashed her doubts that they would be harmed. As Dragos knocked on the massive wooden gates leading the way up to the castle, Anya heard a soft scuff against the rocks to her right and when she looked over there was that idiot elf Celor. He claimed he had forgotten something at the castle and was there to retrieve it. In the end he was allowed into the castle with the two Vadim’s. They walked in silence up the winding road leading to some more massive steel gates and an elderly man asked their names, laughing to himself as he let them all in.

   Ordered to stay in the front entry way until the master should arrive, the three stood in silence. When Valio appeared, their suspicions were confirmed…the Count was gone. Valio had bested Strahd, and all Anya could do was sit there and gape at the Red Wizard. The vampire Alexandru stood by Valio, his faithful servant to the end.

   The man in red beckoned to the Vadim’s, where he lead them into the dining hall, a long, intricate wooden table in the center of the room…Valio sitting at the head. Anya and Dragos sat on either side of him and were informed that Valio had a task that he wished to hire the Vardo to do.

“I wish for you to get rid of the Dislynia Patriarch” were the words that came out of Valios’ mouth.

   They stayed the night there, resting in shifts through the night, taking comfort in the destroyed temple. Their thoughts being voiced slowly, in soft undertones. They discussed plans and decisions, while keeping a watchful eye on the vampire that kept them in his blood thirsty gaze. It was going to be a long night, but the sun would eventually rise.

[Little Lotte]

Dragos tightened the ropes around her body, her wrists, legs…everywhere. He was determined to make sure his wife did not get loose and chance never getting her back. What she was about to do was very dangerous and quite likely permanent, but it was her idea.
Anya had cracked a joke about not being able to go anywhere, but inside, she was grateful. Her bright green orbs scanned over the people in the room, people she knew she could trust. Dragos, her husband…she trusted him to keep her safe, no matter what. Selena, she trusted her advisor to make the killing blow if her loving husband could not bring himself to do so. Isal’wyn, her newest friend, she trusted her to keep the faith and love…and support her no matter what happened, and Bera…she would make sure everyone else in the room was kept safe…safe from her.
Dragos reached over and touched Anya’s pale white cheek lightly, whispering lovingly into her ear. “I love you Anya....make sure....you come back to me.”
It was at the moment, she felt herself losing control. All of the concentration, meditation…everything she had been doing to keep her darkness at bay, was suddenly gone and she was there. Gabriella. She held the same name as her mother, spoke just like her mother.
When she opened her eyes, they were an eerie black color, deep and endless like a chasm. Full of malice and hatred as she looked upon the people in the room who loved and cared for her.
“Isn’t that sweet?” The shadow let out a cruel chuckle, directing her statement to Dragos. “You are all so sweet, I can hardly stand it.” She continued as the rest of the party in front of her began begging their respective patrons to safeguard their Captain.
She immediately began testing the strength of the ropes holding her to the balance beam and then she laughed. “Gods she is so damn weak. The stupid woman tried so hard all day to keep me at bay.”
Isal’wyn’s heavenly voice chimed in, her features stern. “She is not weak –because- she keeps you at bay.”
The shadow snarls at Isal’wyn, barking out at her. “Shut up woman! You are not one to speak to me about strength and weaknesses!”
Bera the tiny dwarf steps up, waving a holy symbol at the shadow which had taken over Anya’s body. “Speak!” The light emanating from the hammer in the dwarf’s hand, blinding the shadow, her eyes squinting in pain.
“What should I speak about? How you are desperate for attention?” Her black gaze turns to Selena. “ Or how she salivates after her boss’s husband?” Then nods her head over in Isal’wyn’s direction. “ Or how she can’t be alone which is why she is with the most disgusting man alive?”
She gives them all a sinister grin, her start white teeth blinding in all the light. “Take your pick. I will happily oblige.”
At that moment, everyone in the room began putting on rings, casting light all around them and surrounding the shadow in light. She let out a violent hiss, closing her eyes and trying to shy away.
“Does it bother you so? Make you want to flee and run into a corner?” Dragos’ voice  turned deadly and low.
She turns her head snarling at Dragos. “You know it does, or are you too busy paying attention to the whore over there to notice when your wife cringes away from the light?” She motions with her head towards Selena as she speaks.
The shadow struggled against the ropes, tugging quite violently which was met by a slap across the face by Dragos.
“You hurt your wife more than me lover. You break her jaw, rip out her throat…” she speaks in harsh tones obviously meaning to cause pain. “I will never understand what she sees in you or why she keeps you around.” Her expression changes from one of malice to almost being comical as she lets out a dramatic sigh.
“You are connected to a specific shadow.” Isal’wyn’s voice once again rose above everyone else’s, trying to get what they came for.
“I am connected to all shadows.”
Dragos drapes his arm around Anya’s deserted body, the light from his ring shining into the shadows face. “Answer her questions, now.” Instantly she snarls at Dragos, trying to force the light from her.
“To one who has taken a name. Kyorli.” Isal’wyn continues, disregarding the discomfort of the shadow.
She laughs maniacally again. “Ah yes, your ex husband. You were better off with him…he at least didn’t sleep with demons.”
Isal’wyn’s face fell in an instant, shock registering on her face.
“Oh, you didn’t know? Fancy that.” The shadow speaks, a satisfied smirk on her red lips.
“It seeks to hurt you the only way it can Isa…with words. Do not listen.” Dragos speaks to the minstrel, trying to soothe her.
“But my words are true, lover. “ At that Dragos smacked her across the face, her lip swelling instantly, blood dribbling down her chin. At once her eyes narrow and she spits the most hurtful thing at Dragos she can think of. “She doesn’t want to have your children. Never has.”
Dragos’ Adams apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, but doesn’t move, remaining ever silent now. Isal’wyn steps forward, her melodic voice harsh and stern. “He has overstepped his bounds, he has taken what is not his. You -will- tell us what he fears, what his weaknesses are... or we will push you so far back with the light you will never even glimpse the outside world again.”
Letting out another laugh the sadistic shadow speaks up. “I am part of this woman, she called me forth with the consent of her husband.”
“And we can bury you just as quickly!” Isal’wyn shouts at her, keeping some distance between them, almost as if not truly trusting the ropes.
“You think you are so brave…you are just a weak weak woman.”
“You know, I could just kill the shell you are bound do and end this.” Dragos speaks, his tone dangerous. “Anya was the una who wanted to do it this way. This is her way.”
“You would kill her, get her out of the way so you can return to your whore ways. Perhaps another vampire, hm?”
Dragos ignores her verbal jabs, trying to get the questions at hand, answered. “I could just kill its shell, Thraxys. Or…you can answer the questions.”
Just then, Bera slips an amulet over the shadows neck which radiates a permanent light, sending it into a fit of snarls and growls.
“Weakness! It abhors weakness!” It growls out, a slight hint of desperation in its voice. “Why do you think it killed you?” The lifeless black eyes stare at Isal’wyn.
“I don't believe that. I think he was frightened. Your master was terrified that Thraxys was actually fighting back to take control” She screams back at Anya’s lifeless shell.
“It is self loathing then.” Dragos’ deep baritone voice chimes in.
“Thraxys was always only just a shell. He was weak. In the end, we always win.” The voice coming from Anya’s body now is less arrogant. “We strive to be here. We do not want to hide. We seek control, power. It is why we take shells.”
“Because you are too weak to survive on your own, you are a parasite.” The man speaks harshly.
“If that is how you chose to see it. Perhaps the shell is too weak without us. They are the ones that call to us, no?”  A sinister smirk crosses her lips, darkening her features even more. “Without me, this woman is nothing.”
“No! Without you, she is still Anya! A woman who is loved and respected…and strong!” The desperation in Isal’wyn’s voice making her pitch rise.
“Let me ask you all a question.” She looks to each and every one of them. “How many times have I saved your lives? Because every time this woman picks up your lifeless corpses, it is because of me. I give her the power to do so!”
“She can do the same without you.”Both Isa and Dragos say at the same time.
“No. She cannot.” The shadow responds calmly.
Bera speaks up suddenly. “Ever think she is the one using you?”
That question forced a laugh from the shadow. “Stupid dwarf. She –is- using me.  She needs me.”
“She can sever herself from you whenever she wants!” The high pitched voice of the minstrel rings through the air again. “It is painful but do-able.”
“Have you ever tried severing yourself from your shadow? If so, I would greatly like to see that.”
Isal’wyn and Dragos share a matched expression, filled with frustration.
“I have answered your questions. If you do not understand then that is not my fault.” The shadow speaks up once again. “Now let me go.”
Dragos barks out a laugh. “Nu, you now go back to where you belong.”
Suddenly Isal’wyn’s voice changes, and she looks to the shadow with a meaningful glare. “Tell Kyorli this shadow, when you meet him in the dark planes of your existence. Let Thraxys go, or we will be forced to free him the hard way.”
Dragos pulls out a dream catcher, hanging it over the shell of Anya.
“I will give you one more thing.” The words float from the lips of their Captain, and Dragos pulls the dream catcher back slightly. “How is it this shell keeps me at bay?” the black eyes float around the people in the room. “Do any of you even know?”
“Why would we tell you? So you can use it against Anya?” the minstrel asks, her voice full of disdain.
“I already know.” Were the last things uttered from the mouth of Anya before her body convulsed in a gasping fit and she fell limp against the ropes holding her up.