Vengeance And Blood~Vladimir Domerescu

[NecropolisV]

I never considered writing a journal.. But all the lies.. So many of them.. I need a place where I can write.. Truth.. Only Eve hears truth from me, and now.. Perhaps Athena.. But I have my secrets from them still.. They do not know the truth about my Mother.. They know she was a witch.. But they have no clue.. As to.. The story.. I still have nightmares about that day.. The image of my mother.. Burning.. The look in her eyes as she found me in the crowd.. Her words stay with me forever.. But no.. No one can know she was my mother.. No not yet.. Not until the day of reckoning comes.. When I will coat all of Barovia in blood as a lesson.. When they will feel the pain she felt.. I will.. Achieve this somehow.. Someway.. There must be a way.. And even should my vengeance come to be.. It is best they do not know I dealt it.. As I have obligations to keep.. But ah the story.. It is as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday.. The memory never fades.. The burning.. Oh the burning... Where do I start?.. Ah.. I know

     I was born to Borov Domerescu, private in the Vallaki Garda.. And to Asmalia Stolorov.. Asmalia Domerescu.. She who is more worthy of bearing that name than my bastard father.. Asmalia, my dear mother.. A witch.. A white witch at that.. But as to whom she ever followed I still do not know to this day.. Father always forbid she share her faith with me.. But anyways, I was raised mostly by my mother as my father was oftentimes on duty, and his private wage barely covered living day to day, we were lucky to have inherited this home, as it has been passed down from family member to family member.. My mother stayed at home, always. He never let her leave.. If it became known his wife was a witch.. The hell that would cause.. And so she never left, she stayed, and raised me.. She gave me a fine education, the best one can get.. She had traveled much in her youth, she had seen the many lands within and outside of Barovia.. She taught me as much as I could learn.. I learned Mordentish, Luktar, and our native tongue Balok from her.. Common came with difficulty to me but I learned it as well.. But to this day I still have problems pronouncing some words..

     She showed me many wonders of magic.. But always faint, as father forbid her to teach me magic, he hated it so, he only tolerated hers because she was his wife.. And he loved her.. But he would not have his only son learning any of that "nonsense" even if it fascinated me.. She would often conjures witch lights and sometimes summon small animals for me to play and be around with while I was young, fascinating me all the while.. She strictly believed that harmful magic was not acceptable, and that it should only be used to heal and protect.. But yes I grew to a very good education, despite having strong inexperience with the world itself.. As I was never permitted to leave the city.. And when I had time with my father it was always rigid training, he wanted me to be a garda just like him.. Make him proud one day.. And so he trained me in many simple tactics, and how to fight, how to properly put on armor.. How to take care of armor.. He was.. for a while a strict.. If good father.. It wasn't until I was about.. 15.. That.. Everything.. Everything.. Burned..

     but yes, despite not being able to share her true faith, she did let me read a book she had acquired a long time ago in her travels from a outlander from the world of "Earth".. A bible she said it was called.. She said it was her favorite book, even if she didn't believe anything in it, she liked the stories.. She would often call me "Adam".. It was our secret nickname for me.. I was her firstborn child, her only child, I was the first, and so she liked to call me Adam when it was just us.. And ah yes.. When I was about 15.. Mother decided that if I really wanted to learn.. If I really wanted to go behind fathers back and keep our own little secret.. She would teach me how to use magic.. But that went oh so horribly long.. The first lesson was amazing, I didn't accomplish anything, but it was fantastic regardless to watch her weave what she did.. But the second lesson.. Father caught us..

   He was furious beyond measure.. He said "This is it Asmalia.. This is it, this is the end of this.." that's all he said before he took her to their room, and when they emerged they both seemed happy and he said they were going to go for a walk.. Mother after all very much wanted to visit the forests around Vallaki again.. And so I sat alone at home.. For what seemed forever.. A whole night passed.. And then father came home.. He looked at me sternly.. And told me to come with him.. He was rough, cold.. Unfeeling.. He led me out of the house and down the streets.. Towards the gates.. He was in full uniform.. He said not a word the whole way there.. And when we reached the gates.. He had me change into strange clothes and a cloak and hood.. I didn't notice that there were other men around until one of them stuffed a gag in my mouth and made sure it was secured so I couldn't speak, that my hood was pulled low so I couldn't be seen, and two of them led me along rather forcibly out of the gates.. Into the outskirts.. Which I had never seen.. There was a crowd of people gathering in the distance.. Around.. A pyre?.. Many garda surrounded it keeping most of the people from getting too close.. Someone was tied to it but I couldn't see from the distance..

   It was a cloudy but otherwise fogless day.. They led me along and I didn't fight.. I knew I couldn't win.. They led me closer and closer.. Until I finally saw.. Bound to the pyre, suspended above the ground.. Was my mother.. My.. Dear mother.. I fought so hard then to try and rush to her.. But the two men held me fast.. I tried to scream out.. But the gag muffled my voice.. I knew very well what this was.. I had heard of them happening.. Witch burning.. My father marched past me.. Cold, a blank face.. He strode to the front where the lance corporal attending such nodded for him to continue.. The men held me in the middle of the crowd.. Where I could see.. But do little.. Panic filled me like never before.. Terror.. Horror.. Why was this happening?.. I could hear my mother crying out to my father.. "Borov what are you doing?! How could you do this?! I loved you! Put an end to this! Tell the truth!".. But father stared at her coldly, unfeeling.. And he lifted a piece of paper.. "Asmalia Stolorov.. For your crimes of using black vraja on a garda official, your attempts to seduce and extract secrets of state to deliver to who knows what foul leader you serve through vraja.. For your assault with vraja upon a garda, attempted murder.. And the murders of several previous garda in the past.. You are sentenced to burn at the pyre.."

   She cried out, in vain "I did none of that you know this! I would never do any such things! Your my husband! We have a son! I never once used my vraja on anyone!"... My father spoke coldly in return.. "My wife was a mercenary who bore my son and left Barovia a long time ago to who knows what whorish ways she could tend to. You are not my wife, and your delusions, your obsessions with me, your attempts to seduce me with vraja will come to an end here".. I looked on in horror at his lies.. But everyone believed them.. No one ever knew about mother... I struggled as hard as I could, but the men were strong and they held me fast.. I watched as father took a torch from one of the other privates.. And stepped forward to cast it upon the pyre.. I watched the pyre, my mother.. Go up in flames.. Her cries of anguish, her pain, her suffering.. The betrayal.. Watching her burn.. And the men would not let me turn my gaze away.. So all I could do was cry and sob into the gag.. My tears falling freely as I watched my beloved mother burn.. It continued on for what seemed forever.. And finally.. I saw through the flames.. Her eyes.. Blackened.. Charred turn towards me.. Those blackened.. Burning eyes..Staring directly at me.. I could tell she knew I was there.. I knew she could still see me somehow..

   If she could, surely she would have been crying as I was then.. But through sheer force of will her voice boomed outward declaring something only I would understand.. Clear.. Strong.. Full of love.. "Adam! Beloved Adam! You are the first! Never forget! You are the first! But never be the last!".. And with that her thrashing ended.. Her gaze fell.. Her body slumped.. And she continued to burn.. The smell of burning flesh clear in the air.. I listened as much of the crowd cheered, and spat profanities at her.. I never wanted to kill so badly then.. I never wanted to murder everyone around me so viciously before.. I cried as it was the only thing I could do.. Eventually I wore myself out entirely.. And I could do nothing but slump in the hold of the men.. They finally let my gaze drop away from the sight.. As I stared at the ground.. In shock.. Horror.. Hatred.. The only woman I had known my whole life.. All the memories.. The sweet words.. The lullaby's.. The love and affection she always showed me.. All the magical wonders.. All of it flashed before my eyes as I realized it was all gone.. Just like that.. The greatest thing I had in my life.. Burned at the pyre..

  The rest was a haze as I was carried back to home.. They put me in the house and shut me in my room, locking the door.. The house had never seem so still.. So quiet.. So cold.. So.. Empty.. I curled up in my bed and sobbed, I shouted, I screamed.. I vented every feeling I felt in that moment.. Eventually.. I was so exhausted all I could do was lay there.. When my door opened and father stepped in.. As soon as I saw him.. I felt renewed energy filled me as I charged at him in anger.. Rage.. Fueling my strength and energy with my emotions as I charged him.. A sensation I would not use only that time.. In fact, a sensation I would come to be most familiar with.. As it became my strength.. As soon as I reached him however.. He struck me me aside with a single blow of a gauntleted fist.. And he spoke coldly.. "What you saw today is the fate of any who uses vraja.. Of any who would be tempted by the Iadul arts... I hope you learned this lesson well.. Your mother was a whore of demons.. I just never saw it until I saw her trying to spread her corruption to you.. I was blind for so long to it all.. I thought I loved her.. I thought I could trust her.. But the sight of her trying to breed a spawn of Iadul out of my own son! UNACCEPTABLE" he would growl and yell.. I layed there on the floor exhausted once more as the energy and strength faded from me.. More exhausted than before..

  I stared up at him hatefully and I spoke.. "You are a monster.. That was.. Horrible.. That was wrong.. I -hate- you, and I will never stop hating you until the day you die you bastard.." He merely grunted and spoke "You'll make a strong warrior son.. Vladimir you will make a fine warrior.. But you will never be a witch.. Not as long as I still live.. I'd sooner kill you myself.." And with that he strode out of my room and locked the door once more.. I laid there on the floor and sobbed once more.. I was.. Haunted by the sight of mother burning.. I was.. Never the same.. I swore I would never become close to anyone ever again.. I swore I would one day have a reckoning for the atrocity.. For the atrocities done to all witches like that.. Oh I would become a garda like he wanted.. But I would do it to protect witches.. To help them escape the pyre if it came to that.. I would be everything the garda wanted me to be as far as they knew.. But I would do my work in secret.. I would save witches not destroy them in such a horrid way.. And there would be vengeance one day.. For every profanity spat.. For every cheer at my mothers burning.. For every witch ever burned or executed.. There would be vengeance.. And when it comes.. The land will flow with blood.. People would know the wrongs they committed.. They would feel every ounce of pain mother felt.. Every ounce of pain they ever inflicted on a witch.. And it would be by my hand.. One day..

   The following years.. I spent learning to channel that rage that fueled me so.. I made it my strength.. Every time I trained I conjured up images of mothers fate in my mind, I brought up those emotions I felt before.. And I turned them into strength.. Into steel resolve.. I grew to be big, I grew to be strong.. While my father stood at only 5'8, I grew to be 6'1.. While my father was strong.. I grew to be stronger.. While he was no welp to pain.. I was far more durable.. I became superior to him in every way.. I exercised, I studied.. What I could.. Father had all of mothers belongings and her secret library put to the flame.. Even her bible.. Everything that reminded me of mother he had burned and destroyed.. Until the house seemed a shell of what it once was.. And I was 20 years old.. When one day a garda came knocking at my door.. "Domn Domerescu" He said as he nodded... "Garda" I nodded back politely.. "I have.. Bad news.. Your father.. On wall duty last noapte.. A witch attacked.. Your father.. Did not survive.. She cast some form of magical flame, and he was.. Burned to ash.. Only his sword and armor remained.. We can't let you have the armor.. But his sword.." The garda removed a bundle from his back, and handed it to me.. It was fathers Greatsword.. I nodded back.. Though I put on a facade of anger.. And sorrow.. "Damnable witches.. They will pay for this" I said... The garda nodded and said several apologies and handed me a sack of coin, fathers earnings for the past few days.. "Multumesc.. But excuse me.. I need time to mourn.." The garda nodded again and left me be..


   As soon as the door closed I laughed like I had never laughed before.. Father killed by fire.. Witchfire no less.. How poetic.. Such justice that was.. I nodded to myself.. Now was the time to prepare.. I spent the next two years finishing my training in that house.. I sold all of fathers belongings, and many of my own to afford living, luckily father kept a store of gold in case of emergencies and I scraped by for the next two years.. Taking the occasional visit about the city.. I learned how to use my fathers weapon, the greatsword.. I learned well.. His weapon of murder of witches.. Would by my weapon of vengeance.. My weapon of murder for all I deemed deserving of death.. And there were many in my eyes who deserved as much.. It was upon my 22nd birthday.. That I knew preparations needed to come to a close.. I spent most of what little gold I had left on some armor, food, equipment and materials.. And lantern oil.. I spilled it about the house.. All about it.. And I took a torch in hand and lit it.. This place of memories, this place of remembrance.. Sorrow.. this abode which my accursed father had lived in for so long.. It was time it was put to the torch.. Time it burned.. I tossed the torch into the oil and headed out of the house.. I was nearly at the gates when I looked back and saw the smoke rising in the air.. I heard commotion as people rushed to put out the flames.. I eventually returned.. Garda were stationed about the house.. Or rather, what was left of it.. It was burned to the ground..

  Just as I wanted.. That horrid place needed to burn.. And so it did.. The garda spoke with me apologizing that they did not know the source of the fire, that they were sorry about the loss of my home of many generations.. I played the part, they heard my despair, my disappointment and anger.. Ah how fitting it seemed.. Fire stole my mother.. And it was fire that delivered justice to my father.. And now it was my fire that put the memories of his accursed abode to ashes.. For the next two months I spent the last of my gold living in inns, eating very little to survive, and paying what was needed for rooms.. And once the memory of the fire was gone.. And after two years.. The memory of my father likely forgotten.. And now my training had come to the best it would be that I could manage alone.. It was time for my work to begin.. I headed for the outskirts.. And out there I waited.. I saw a poster.. "GARDA RECRUITING" Signed by one Corporal Stolojan... And so I waited for her.. Until I finally saw what I assumed to be here walking out of the gates.. Likely on patrol.. My face was blank.. My heart was cold.. I was prepared for what awaited me.. And I took my first steps forward in my new future, my new path..

   There would be vengeance, there would be a reckoning.. There would be much to do.. And though my expression showed little.. My resolve was iron.. My determination like steel.. It was time to join the garda.. It was time for my work.. To begin... I Vladimir Domerescu.. Son of Borov Domerescu.. Son of a nameless mother, a mercenary that abandoned me at birth.. Would join the garda.. But I.. Adam.. Son of Asmalia Stolorov.. Would be so much more..