A Draculina in the Mix.
A Seres that only has a Familiar of her master left and has 'outlived' Earth finds herself in a new place... with her powers muted and a sad lack of fire arms.
There is Magic in this place but it's munted to all hell and gone.
She still has Pip but not much else.
This place sucks balls.
The ice demons, even if they share her undead state, are creepy as F.
Quarm had those life sucking 'immortals'. (Kill it with fire. Lots and LOTS of fire worked on them too. She drained them to nothing but didn't keep their souls.) Middle ages rules and the only place that treated men and women essentially equally was Dorne.
Everywhere else, women were breeders, traded like horse flesh and otherwise mostly decorative.
She turned Quarm into Bastard city since the people here were being stupid about such things. Any who bore that unfortunate status was welcome so long as they were willing to work.
Hell, they could even pick a surname if they wanted. All the Sands, Stones, Rivers, Waters, Snows etc got confusing after a bit.
Eventually, bearing a bastard name became a badge of honour of a sort. It meant 'everything I have I earned through my own damn work and effort', more or less. Bastard City was actually pretty prosperous.
Ceres was lonely though.
She was the only one of her kind.
She was also staying the hell away from the fire daemon priests/ priestesses.
Because she could and they reminded her of her Master, Godswoods dotted the city.
A few of them even had heartwood trees though those took sacrifices to grow.
She had a particular hatred of rape and murder.
Self defense was one thing but murder saw them watering the trees of the Godswood with their blood... if they had a bit less because she'd helped herself, who was to know... or care. Everyone in her damned city worked though.
Whether it was as a whore or a street sweeper, everyone worked.
The whores, courtesans, gleeman and rent boys were licenced, bonded and health checked.
There was no slavery either.
Raids were an invitation to free violence.
Anyone who wanted to play was on the walls or the streets.
Those who wanted to stay out of it pulled back to the underground cellars.
Survivors/ Captives where either ransomed back or turned out in the clothes they wore and a water bottle.
If they wanted to stay, they had a years probation to prove their worth and worked for the city without pay. They did get free lodging with the others like them though and two simple meals a day. As a citizen, they had access to the healers station, training in whatever trade the city needed for free, basic schooling and a sleeping space.
If they wanted more and better, they had to work for it.
There was also a bank of sorts so that funds didn't need to be lugged around or guarded closely. There was a little outside trade but not all that much.
For when she wanted to go for a wander, there was a council of guild masters and useful types to keep things ticking over.
It was a few centuries later that she heard of, then met strangers at the site of Old Valeria. They'd been here on and off for centuries, exploring and excavating the ruins.
Here, she thought, was hope of a way out of this hole at last.
The poison did shit all to them as it did to her.
She still had NO idea how she’d gotten here and she’d made the best of it, but still…
She was lonely and this world sucked majorly.
Hell, even if they’d just let her travel with them, she’d jump ship in a finger snap. (Her heart no longer beat.)
ANYWHERE was better than here.
It was a noxious toxic mess and she was done trying to fix it.