Escher Von Preshlow

Feast at Ravenloft

"I must say... with such an exquisitely diverse group of adventurers, it was very difficult to know how to feed you."

Escher looked to the host at the head of the table. A man of dark eyes, slick back hair and a gaze under which his instincts didn't know whether to run from him, hide from him or kiss him.

Finn sat beside him, popping one of his eyes, suspiciously. "I swear to Valkur, if you serve us seafood-"

Strahd laughed. "No, no I shan't." He tipped his cup in Finn's direction, "But that is precisely what I mean. We have many freshwater lakes here in Barovia. Without the sun, it is difficult to grow crops, most of the local 'delicacies' use fish as a main ingredient."

The dinner guests all sat quietly, exchanging looks with each other. The silence in the air was uncomfortable at best. Escher debated saying something just to break it.

"So, you had something imported?"

The vampire turned to look fixedly at the blonde.

"Not far from the truth, my friend." He spoke so softly, almost... affectionately. But Escher noted that he seemed to only use that tone with him.

They had been warned of course. From the moment they arrived in the curious lands of Barovia, the very first people they met in the village spared no time before warning the strangers about the devil residing on the castle on the hill. There were conflicting reports, sure; one resident would describe how Strahd had brought the rains down upon the ancient city of Berez and reduced it to swampland and ruins, whereas the Von-Holtz fella would tell stories of how just the ruler was, of Strahd catching thieves and returning stolen goods to a merchant. But, as of yet, he had no reason not to trust the man yet, aside of course, from what he was. A vampire. But of that he made no secret.

"Do you know why I invited you all here, this evening?" Asked their host, addressing the room once more.

Enzo shook his head slowly, in a very intentional fashion. Escher looked down at the floor, amused by his friend. Strahd continued, "it is because you impressed me. Each of you. I don't allow just anyone to sit for a meal with me, you understand..." he began to circle the long dining table, just as the doors at the end of the hall swung open, in striding a middle-aged dusk-elf carrying a cloche covered silver plate. "Finn, you showed great direction upon helping that group you met on the road. You are not usually proficient with.. land travel, I imagine. And yet, you lead your team to fix a cart."

Finn frowned, but pushed his shoulders back, struggling not to be somewhat flattered by the man's words.

"No, I... I was the captain of a ship though, once..."

"I can tell." Strahd said, sincerely, before turning to look at the next member. "Togg, you treated that woman in the village of her ailments without hesitation. Truly a subversion of the typical folk of your kind."

The orc maintained his grumpy expression, and Strahd quickly moved on

"Rumble...

Strahd paused behind his seat and opened his mouth to continue, the dragonborn awaited his compliment. Strahd shut his mouth again and began walking once again, rounding the table and heading towards Enzo. Enzo had not taken to their host. Escher thought it strange seeing the usually gentle half-giant so angry in the presence of another. There didn't seem to be a reason for it. Strahd didn't even acknowledge Enzo. He carried on walking around the table.

Escher waited to be passed over, staring at the plate in front of him, listening to the echoing footsteps of their host. So when they came to a stop beside him, he froze in place.

"You..."

Escher felt a hand on his cheek. He turned, surprised, into Strahd's gaze. His harsh features softened into a look of adoration and his eyes... such beautiful golden eyes.

"Yes?" Escher said, faintly, his voice caught in his throat. Strahd crouched, keeping his hand on the blonde's face, running his fingers so gently across his skin.

"You are beautiful."

The bard could hear Enzo stand up, his chair legs dragging on the floor and his fist hit the dining table.

"You bastard! Leave him alone!"

Strahd and Escher remained locked in their eye contact. The vampire continued to tenderly hold the human in his strong grasp. He was absolutely taken by the man in front of him. Escher opened his mouth to respond, "I..."

"Stay with me." Strahd said. It was so quiet, yet commanded so much.

"I..." Said Escher again, struggling, for perhaps the first time, to find the words.

Enzo kicked his chair, the crashing sound almost tearing Escher's gaze away but Strahd held his face firmly in his clutches. Strahd did not look up as Enzo approached to tear him away from his friend. Neither did the vampire seemingly need to look up as he raised his other hand in a flicking motion, sweeping the goliath magically from his feet and across the room. The entire party then stood. But the butler quietly standing by the door drew his scimitars, and all they could do was hold their breath while Strahd continued to converse.

"Stay with me." he said again. "It's not like we can leave Barovia... if you are to live here, why not do so in the lap of luxury? With me?"

Escher didn't understand. Why, a human such as he might catch the eye of a man as powerful and mighty as the Lord Strahd von Zarovich. He had a name and title, but that meant little here in Barovia, and as handsome as the bard knew he was... surely that wouldn't truly be enough to turn a head as marvelous as his?

Strahd graciously took something from his waistcoat pocket and held it up, before everyone at the table to see, and gawk at. A ring. A ring of pure platinum, one with a gorgeous, yet simple spiral design. As Strahd carefully took Escher's hand and slid it onto his fourth finger, the man put up no resistance.

Finally it seemed, the bard found his voice.

"Yes. My Lord, I- thank you."

He continued to stare, unblinking into Strahd's eyes of gold. Ones that glinted with enchantingly sinister pleasure as their colour began to slowly change. The glow, starting to fade.

"You are mine now, Escher, my love. We are bound together now."

If a stomach could drop in slow motion, then it happened to Escher. As he looked upon the breathtaking monster before him, he saw the crows-feet by those captivating eyes. He saw the lines that ran across his temples and etched his brows into a permanent scowl. The blood caught in the film of the man's pointed teeth, the stench of death that hung on his empty breath. His extremely pale, cold, jagged sharp facial features, and the elongated shadow in which his now dark eyes seemed to dwell.

Escher tried to resist the vampire's grip, still on his chin, but whether he was frozen in fear or if Strahd's grip was too strong, he didn't know. His fate had been sealed, and he'd had no true word in it.