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Barracker took his mother Anne some chamomile tea, fresh off the boil.  With tired eyes Anne looked over the small round table at Barracker taking a seat and shared with him her motherly concerns about his ongoing nightmares.  “Is it still burning fresh in your mind dear, that night”.

He looked over, his eyes fixed on his helmet.  His fingers tracing along the sides of the helmet.  [Colour=Green]“Very much so, it taunts and haunts my mind.  I cannot seem to escape and push it out of my mind.”[/colour]

“Oh dear,” she gestured a hand towards the Barracker and was received with a clasped of hands holding onto hers.  “I wish I could take this pain away.” 

[Colour=Green]“I know”[/colour]  Barracker gave a nod back, he felt comfort in her words.  [Colour=Green]“Mother, I hate to ask but as I said before, I’m not sure where this journey will take me. I’m running out of-”[/colour]

Anne interrupted, “Ahh yes.”  She stood unsteadily, shaking alot.  As she shimmied over to the cabinet on the counter.  “One moment dear, I’m sure it’s here,” she started muttering to herself, then putting a finger to her lips.  “Where is it now?”  

Barracker felt a bit helpless, he was not here when she put the vials away, but knew to be patient as Anne was losing her memory dramatically faster by the month.  He rose out of his chair and they both started looking together, the Paladin tried to rejog her memory as they looked for it.  But no use, her memory wasn’t quite the same as when he was little. 

Some time later he found it, the bag of vials lodged in the bottom cupboard behind some medical supplies.  Barrackers' face showed it all, he had forgotten about this cupboard.  [Colour=Green]“Mother, I found them.”[/colour] He took the small bag.  

“Very good dear”.  She waved and then held her hand out, needing help to get back to her feet.  Barracker bent his knees and held her gently round her waist and helped her up.  When they were both seated again.  “It's lamb blood my dear. I had it seasoned with a splash of cinnamon and sugar.”  This reminded him of cinnamon sweet rolls, which had always been one of Barracker’s favourite treats.  “Much better than that pigs blood I got you last time, hmm.”  

[Colour=Green]“Thank you mother,”[/colour] he nodded in agreement and then started counting the bottle of vials.  There were quite a lot here, enough for a month, maybe more.  The thing about the blood was that as a Paladin, he found the taste of blood quite vile.  Perhaps his morals made it that way. It was necessary though.  Vampires could only get nutrition from blood. He did not like it but realised it was a given.  Animals did not share the same level of nutrients or adrenaline kick of goodness compared to sentient creatures like humans etc, but he vowed never to touch a living person's neck.  This would hinder and hurt his development and health as a vampire's capability but a clear conscience would feel better than stooping to the level of the majority of vampires.  Most vampires would be physically lured in by the taste and buzz it gave, taking from living persons and would cloud their mind, making them turn to the dark idea of murdering to feed.  It was like drug addiction.  But Barracker would rather die.