An abrupt departure had seen her off before any news could have been found of her. The climate in Fiore’s political realm did not lend great things for her, to the point where being far off were for the better. A different nation? That was certainly something that she could find herself in seeking refuge. But a nation suffering through its own sense of political strife, one in where the motivations of one such faction torn themselves from Fiore? It seemed almost too enticing for Astrid to not consider. Her own involvement towards the conflict or caring mattered little; Fiore was still her home, her nation. It were her people, but until things calmed down and the radical witch hunt that had been cast upon her had simmered down there were little reasons for her to want to return. Especially too, with the dagger that she kept close to her, the insidious thoughts that seemed to run rampant through her mind, furiously drawing upon her own desires to feast upon the flesh – a craving that she had struggled to maintain for the greater part of her time since having left Magnolia – it was just too great of a risk.

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There was something to say to her political estimation. Her motivations towards arriving within the strange and isolated nation didn’t seem to faze anyone, certainly not the Loyalists whom welcomed her aid. It seemed that for whatever conflict had been waging on within this place, all that mattered were those who would offer their support to the matter. Mercenary, to say the least, but a reasonable stance considering. She had seen plenty of it, lesser lords and nobles who sought aid in whatever form they came by to end a particular conflict that was afflicting them. Often times it worked out in their favor, but wherein the matter seemed to cost them any hope of success, more often it ended up being that the endeavor was doomed to fail from the start. Mercenaries at that point only managed to slow the matter or all the more secure its failure by robbing necessary resources.

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Hardly her concern, when all was said and done. She wasn’t invested in their conflict, nor significantly their motivations for it; only that it would be somewhere to provide her temporary refuge. The city could collapse upon itself in the coming days, so long as it would be enough to cause whatever entities within Fiore may have been tracking her to lose her scent, that was all that mattered. But despite that, there was always the concern of her cover being blown, and nothing risked that more than inactivity. It was evident from what she saw of the makeshift checkpoint just within the outermost borders of the city. Those who contributed were rewarded.

And subsequently, those who contributed were welcome. To be welcome was to be treated as someone who belonged. It would mean less eyes on her. Of course some that would look to her with envy, allure even. That was unfortunately a given no matter where she ventured. But the main thing was that the eyes would not be those of suspicion. They would be eyes cast upon someone sympathetic to their cause, someone that agreed and wanted to help. If there were anything she had learned in her time watching the court, it was that loyalty was often rewarded in trust and a willingness to support one another. Though she hoped it may never come to it, she would need that support.

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Basic tasks.

For the time being, that was what they were calling for them, calling for her to accomplish. Territory within the immediate region seemed to be predominantly under their control, both an advantage and disadvantage for a group in conflict to face. It was theirs, first and foremost. Having a region under one’s authority, no matter how little one may have felt it to be, was a valuable asset. That did not even factor in the actual value associated with the services and capabilities that the region enabled, to which could end up being as valuable as winning the war itself to having no worth towards the endeavor. That also spoke true to the risk that came with controlling such areas. Against a more desperate force, particularly against one that may have appreciated and recognized the value of such location, it meant that more and more resources were to be devoted which meant that other areas were deprived of the same resources. In order to secure one point, multiple other points stood to be in a weaker overall state.

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Without giving much of herself away, Astrid tasked herself with the handling of watching over one of the areas that was within the area of focus. It was a rather impressive facility, far more elaborate than what she had first figured it to be. It was massive in scale and scope, full of people like her who had agreed to the idea of guarding it. Looking at it, looking at the measures that were being taken, it dawned upon Astrid. She had first figured that she would have been sent to one of the lesser locations that had much of its resources taken by securing the key area of note. But as she looked around, it became all the more clear to her that in fact this was the key location; the main area of focus all along. Even more, it seemed that it was not just that they were putting more resources towards protecting this area than others in the region.

In truth they were putting all of their resources towards protecting this area.

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Despite not having great understanding towards this thing and what it contributed towards the greater conflict, she did as she was asked. Security of sorts. Monitoring for those who did not seem to belong and those that were simply looking to cause problems. Considering the allocation of resources towards the protection of a place such as this, it was impossible not to figure that this was a key point towards the conflict in its entirety. And to her dismay, it also meant that the capability for her to not put forth a more meaningful level of contribution was all the more paramount. If there were anything that put at risk her likelihood of capitalizing on the trust of those fighting on her side, it would be her committing to errant behavior that threw the cause in jeopardy.

And so, to the delight likely of those who were also engaged, she committed herself in her entirety. She was able to learn of the cause some more, having first simply believed this being a case of rogue factions attempting to commit towards a power play for their own benefit, instead coming to learn that this was an attempted squashing of a political uprising. Ironic really, that considering who her father was, someone who had advocated freedom of the people as much as he had throughout his life, to see his daughter fighting on the other side in a completely foreign conflict would have been something that broke his heart. To see her as aggressive too, influenced by the blade that she held onto close, the weapon that whispered to her the desire to kill and slaughter everyone around her, making her hungrier and hungrier as small skirmishes caused the scent of fresh blood to fill the air. She resisted though, maintaining her composure as well as she were able, following the tasks and responsibilities that were given to her, to eventually as the sun set, signaling the changing of the guard and giving Astrid a chance finally to disappear away. A chance maybe to find someone to eat, if nothing else to give her a chance to breath, not constricted by the presence of those whose eyes were fixated upon her.

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But the urges would not cease, nor could she have stopped them even if she wished to. Even here, in a place far away from everything she were used to, the fears and terrors that plagued Fiore, she was still subjected to the cruel torment that were within the calling of the weapon. The dagger that despite the agony it inflicted, the more it tried to influence her, turning her into something that she sought to avoid, she could not part with. The dagger, it was drawn to her, much like how she found herself drawn to it.

She would eventually come to answer its call, and it would provide her with the means to embrace what she could be. Astrid knew it. The dagger seemed to know it. Why deny it?

Astrid were a ghoul, forced to consume the flesh of the living. Who were she to deny that right? Why was she to run away from such an opportunity and delight?

It wasn’t rational, nor something that she should have done, but to do it here, within the confines of these unknown lands, subjected to the criticisms and curious watch of those who did not have reason to trust her save for a single day’s service, it would be hard for them to understand even under the best of circumstances.

And so the burden came that she would have to wait, hoping that someone would arrive to quench her hunger, a task that was certainly reasonable given where she were and what was going on around her. Conflict bred conflict. It had a winner and a loser. And a loser would seek out desperate attempts to turn the tides, even if it meant stumbling into someone that was far from safe to be around. Someone who had all the reasons in the world to want to see destruction before her.

They would eventually come to her. Those looking to take advantage of this conflict and turn things around for their own benefit. And they would inevitably stumble into Astrid, her dagger, and the cries that they would make, the reality that they had walked into a woman who would not be any sort of salvation for them, but rather their execution? There was something about the imagining the look on their faces that seemed almost more enjoyable than the idea of consuming their flesh. Perhaps a perfect dessert to compliment a worthy feast. Not to say that the kill would be worthy. But it did not need to be.

This was war, after all. People were inevitably going to die. Nobody would miss them. And if a corpse were eaten along the way, that wasn’t a problem either.

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