Escher Von Preshlow

A better host than Strahd

Ireena sat with her arms crossed, staring into the fireplace. The light dancing across her face, locked into a scowl. She refused to say a word, and had done for the entirety of the previous day, like she was on a strike.

Escher tilted his head, looking down upon her.

"If you keep looking like that, you'll get forehead wrinkles."

She glanced at him briefly, her brow only furrowing further before turning her head round to intentionally face away from him. He sighed. The silver plate he held towards her, upon which a servant had prepared a little food, he gently bumped Ireena's shoulder with the rim.

"Pout all you like, but you must eat if you want to be in any kind of good condition when your friends come to rescue you."

Ireena looked back up at Escher and finally broke her silence.

"How do I know this isn't enchanted with something?"

Escher's eyes moved from the plate, at the small strawberry tart that sat as the centrepiece, alongside a variety of sliced cured meats and a small selection of fruit.

"Seriously?" He said, an eyebrow raised, "If I were alive, enchantment be damned, this shit looks delicious."

"Then you eat it."

"Alas, I'm on a diet."

Ireena's expression hardened.

"I refuse to eat a thing until you prove it's safe."

Escher blinked at her, tiredly. He rolled his eyes and took the apple from the plate, biting into it with a glorious crunch, a truly delectable piece of fruit, the juice inside was so sweet, but the vampire pulled a face. To him, it tasted sour, despite what remained of his humanity, the part that could recognize how good this should taste, that part felt at war with his desperation for that thick metallic liquid to coat the inside of his throat.

He tried to hide how disgusted he felt, but clearly did a terrible job, as Ireena's lip twitched into a faint smile. He held out the apple towards her and she took it, still staring at his face. He then implored her to take the plate.

"No." She said, "The tart looks mighty suspicious, you should try that next."

"Are you trying to torture me?" Escher muttered through apple mush. He set the plate down on a small table nearby and leaned into the fireplace to spit and wrench into the coals. Despite this, he could still hear a small tinkle of the woman's laughter behind him, even as he began to dry-heave a little. He couldn't get the fresh apple taste from his tongue.

Still coughing, he leaned against the mantlepiece, trying to recollect some element of decorum and give her a piercing stare. Ireena slumped back into the sofa, stubbornly maintaining eye contact with him while she purposefully took her own bite of the apple.

"Thank the gods for that." Escher murmured. Once he was satisfied his insides had settled once more, he sat opposite Ireena on the other couch. They sat quietly once more, but this time the silence was broken by the woman taking bites from the apple, intentionally trying to be louder and more irritating each time. It didn't bother Escher however, he was just glad she wasn't starving herself.

Eventually she leaned forward, attempting a more dominating approach in conversation with one of her captors.

"You said 'when' my friends rescue me. Whilst your master denies they would ever try."

Escher nodded. He had to play this carefully. Strahd was supposedly out, bringing Escher's chosen victim back for dinner, but he could return at any moment. If Escher spoke out of turn within earshot, he'd be in trouble.