Tragedy of the Commons
Once a neighborly feeling flowed in the days of yore. A field sat in between two farmers fields, technically never owned by a single one of them. With wild green grass, it would be perfect for their farm animals to graze upon. So the one approached the other, and they came to a plan. They would share the field as a commons field, where both could graze their cattle.
However, both thought they were more cunning than the other. They would graze their cattle at different times, and before they used their own. So well thought they would play the other for the fool, neither realized the fate coming to them.
The field became bare, then a mud pit, and then a mire for their beasts. All it took was one time when both went to the field at the same time that they too became stuck, and were dragged down into the mire of their own creation. Never to be seen again.
For when overlooked and overused, a gift can hurt far more than help.
What a strange, dark bond you two have forged. Once bitter enemies, but have found a common field. Something to share a focus in, engage. The potential to eliminate a common threat together with a power better than one has on their own. It becomes that tantalizing option to work and share, and use the same land to clear out what seems to be a trouble.
But both parties think they’re more clever than the other. One side is a vampire with the experience and time to have tricks up his sleeve as a squirrel has nuts. The other a newcomer, overlooked but also armed with such arcane knowledge. A pair that have a burning history of conflict, waiting to stop what could be a perceived threat.
But this is not their usual commons. The halls and training fields that you stalk are not a mere commons that are used to graze sheep. You stepped into the hall of trained warriors, places where combat was being actively practiced, and merely observed. While the doubt grew between the two of you, we prepared.
Each step, each strike, all honed to defend ourselves. To defend the honor that we stand for.
For what is the strength of an alpha vampire against the might of a mountain? The abilities of a half learned witch to the steel of a trained samurai? They do not have the bond of a tutor and the student. Forged through hardship, sharpened into steel, we are a force to be seen and not to be reckoned.
And while the two plotters hide in the shadows, waiting for and scheming for a perfect moment, we will strike. As swift as the coursing river, our aim true, we shall strike. With our strikes, we will render them asunder. Shattering the thin veneer of trust held between these two. Rapidly they too will become mired in their own misdeeds. Trapped in a tragedy of their own commons.