[h2]Down in the Mausoleum[/h2]

"My final rites? My, you're a quick one to jump to killing, aren't you?" the apparent young man said, shaking his head in disappointment, even though the smirk never left his lips, "I don't quite recall doing anything to warrant a death sentence. Oh, I like to [i]play[/i] rough, but I assure you, [i]everyone[/i] leaves satisfied."

With everyone else gone, his eyes took on a thoughtful look, "Oh, do you mean this little faux pas? I'm quite sure my existence isn't a capital crime, and I already paid for that with my disinheritance.

"Hmm... or maybe that was for getting caught with the prince and the stableboy. Again." Damon continued, offering a slight shrug, "Oh well, I've never done anything bad enough for the family to disown me. Why, I even set up this little rescue opportunity you all have. I think I'll have to turn down your offer."

He seemed to finally have tired of his own voice, as that was the last warning before the arbalest swung into action, aimed and fired one-handed despite the length and weight. However, either he was a terrible shot, or it was deliberately targeted for the thigh rather than anything more... integral. Not that the risk of extreme blood loss was any better from such an injury. 

His follow-up was equally indirect, the vampire seeming to prefer to do anything [i]but[/i] advance and attack directly. His form was nothing exemplary, the thrust [i]almost[/i] textbook apart from the foreign influence and circular approach. The movements of a duelling enthusiast rather than a lifelong warrior. It was just unfortunate that the speed, although not impossible to follow, compensated a lot for any sloppiness and the imbalance caused by his other weapon. 

A weapon where a red tendril was already steadily pulling back the string, resetting the hefty weapon for another shot.

[@ERode]