But good news. BOOK 2 IS UP!!! READ IT AND WEEP YOU WORMS!!!
~love, ARH
Prologue: Discovery of the "Luminas Scrolls"
My name is Romulus Edicus, and I am the founder of the Historian's guild, "Truth and Love". Our guild is founded upon the three keys of Light, Love and Truth. We hope to uphold and fulfill these keys in all that we do.
I am writing you to declare wondrous news! Indeed, our discovery is the greatest happenstance since the coming of the Light! My brothers at the Church of Khallus, we of Truth and Love have finally, after many years of stumbling, pierced through the sands of time and retrieved that long-lost work, the Luminas Scrolls. Indeed, these precious texts have been missing for so long that none in the land even remember their contents, save for the fact that the Light came into the world long ago to save us all. But of course, all across the lands, even nonbelievers! know of that audacious claim made by the Anointed One long, long ago.
My friends, my entire body trembles with excitement as I write! These texts have raised vast amounts of information up from the depths of history, so much so that my faith has increased a hundred-fold! The details and stories presented in the Luminas Scrolls are simply astounding, both in their simplicity and in their revelation. We may now worship the Light not just with faith, but with a bold assurance that our faith does not come from empty words nor false testimony!!!
There are four "books" contained within these scrolls. Each one tells a unique tale, but they all are inexplicably bound together as one. Indeed, the first two books make no sense without the latter two, and the whole thing falls apart if you remove just one. So I urge you, brethren, to read each and every book of the Luminas Scrolls, down to the last letter! They are the testimony not only of the Light's coming to the world, but also testimony of a rather unknown figure in history named Zäle Dey'Gaç. He was a swordsman of legend and he played an incredible role in the testimony of the Light, and yet not a single distinguished historian knows anything about him!
We know that the persecutors of the early followers of the Light attempted to eradicate any and all things pertaining to the Light, be they people or material things. Thus, they were hidden for protection, and eventually lost with the flow of time. But we have discovered the Scrolls locked in a secret vault hidden in the castle of a rather famous figure of history, Lucius Val'Dégo, an ancient Elvish King and early follower of the Light. They are in perfect condition, yet highly fragile. We urge you to make copies of the texts, as we are! and to spread and declare them throughout the land! The guild is moving about as secretively as possible, so as to avoid detection and attack by our enemies. Thus we need you and every church in the lands of Vaelrün to go out in the world and declare the glorious testimonies encapsulated here, that every man, woman, and child may come to know the Light! Go forth my brothers, and have no fear! The Light protects it's children, and I believe the Anointed One himself will watch over you. Know also that our enemies may break our bones and destroy our bodies, but that they can never destroy our spirits, which shall be risen by the Light on that glorious Day.
The words of Romulus Edicus are ended.
*note*-12 elven kinships are Nov'altra, Val'kan, Zä'la, Zelkennia, Saskla, Ilim, Azgalia, Khäel, Lüsca, Égleysia, Nyadria, and Jah'lé.
*note* Light elves do not use ß or ñ
*note* Dark elves do not use x or ç
*note* Spurge-A random action
The Luminas Scrolls
Book 1: Prelude to a Legend
Chapter 1: Mysterious Beginnings
Year 10,043 on the 7th day of the 9th month
It was a cold and windy day in the small town of Fär'lan, Novaltra. Tessa and her husband Jäçe were inside their cozy hovel sitting by a warm fireplace. The wind outside had a wailing keen to it that sounded just ghastly. After eating a sumptuous dinner of potatoes and steak, Jäçe and his wife went to bed. Jäçe, however, could not fall asleep. The sounds of the wind made it impossible for his mind to fade into that tranquil state in which we swim in the current of dreams. After sitting in bed for quite awhile he began to discern that there was something odd about the wind. It sounded like something more than just wind; he thought he heard a baby crying. Jäçe couldn’t sleep anyways so he decided to check outside. He went to his front door and opened it where, much to his surprise was a small baby on his front doorstep. There was no note, but there was a small locket dangling from the baby's neck. Inscribed in Kommün on the locket was the name "Zäle". Luckily the baby was wrapped in many warm blankets so that it was not too cold. Jäçe quickly took the baby in his arms and carried it close by the warm fireplace. As the fire shed light on the infant's face, Jäçe gasped. This was no ordinary baby, for it had pointy ears, pale white hair, dark black skin and the most peculiar eyes you had ever seen. Where white should have been was a dark purple, and the irises were inky pools of obsidian. This was a Dark Elf child.
Dark Elves are known, feared, and hated by most races. Their kingdom, Valdraeyñia, is the fiercest of all Väelrün. In fact, that is the only reason they have not been vanquished by the many kingdoms, both good and evil, that have attempted to do so in ages past. Dark Elf people have a reputation of being liars, manipulators and murderers. This reputation barely even scratches the surface. They have enslaved, at one time or another, each and every race on the face of Väelrün. Indeed, many races have yet to escape this insidious bondage. Dark Elves kill as much as drunkards drink. This is because they hold no sanctity for life, and if it impedes even the slightest bit of "progress" they will do away with it. Indeed they deal out death daily as a normal part of life. That...is the legacy of the Dark Elves.
Jäçe could hardly throw this helpless baby away, yet could he hope to raise a Dark Elf child? Certainly it would grow up to be nothing more than a merciless killer, would it not? Jäçe knew that Dark Elves were heartless creatures by firsthand experience, for he had seen his own father killed in cold blood by a rogue Dark Elf when he was only 11. As he tucked the baby and its blankets into a small basket lying in the living room, Jäçe decided to would talk the matter over with his wife in the morning.
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Chapter-A Dark Legacy
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Chapter-A Dark Legacy
13 years later a male youth was sitting in a large classroom, looking nervous. This youth had rich dark skin, and it certainly wasn’t a tan. When Zäle’s parents had begun raising him they had been fearful of what he would become. But they had faith and dared to hope Zäle could lead a normal life. Their faith was rewarded in full, as Zäle soon proved to be just as normal as any of the high elf children. He had faith in the Light, he worked on the farm with his father, he enjoyed reading immensely, he was extremely nervous around girls, but more so than anything else Zäle loved swordplay.
One day in Zäle’s seventh year of age a boy named Markhas’Dey’El challenged Zäle to a swordfight. He was the strongest boy of the town, and he wanted to show this dark elf freak who was boss. His father had warned Zäle not to do it but Zäle had seen men duel with swords and thought it looked like fun. Zäle practiced for a week alone when nobody was watching. When the fight came Zäle was able to parry and dodge all of Markhas’ thrusts with his wooden sword. Markhas was too slow and Zäle easily dodged around him and promptly hit him in the back of the head with his own crude wooden sword. Everyone was astonished because Markhas had been trained in swordsmanship by his father, who was the best swordsman in the town. When Zäle had returned home, swelling with pride, his father looked very angry and looked like he was about to hit Zäle. Then quite suddenly John gave Zäle a warm smile and gave his son a pat on the back. Markhas appeared at Zäle’s house the next day. At first Zäle thought he was going to try to fight him again but Markhas gave him a weak grin and said,
“You were amazing yesterday when you bested me. I’ve never seen anyone so good with a sword that hadn’t been trained properly. Would you wanna practice sometime and tell me how you got so good?” From then on Zäle and Marcus were best friends.
Markhas was quite surprised that Zäle could be so good with the sword yet know so little about using it. It became quite apparent that Zäle had a natural knack for sword fighting. He and Markhas sparred every day. They were both quite equal, now that Markhas knew of Zäle’s abilities and was no longer so headstrong. Zäle was no longer made fun of by anyone in front of his face. Markhas was the biggest of the boys of the village and they respected him. Now however they stayed away from him and his dark companion. Zäle and Markhas quickly forged a strong and resilient friendship that would last for years. In fact…Markhas was Zäle’s only friend…
And now Zäle was 13 years old, gangly and awkward yet handsome. In elven society parents home school their children for the first 12 years of their lives. At age 13 all children go off to the mandatory Zek’laus Zentarium (Learning Academy) to receive professional instruction from high elf priests and lectors and to learn the necessities required to live a good high elven life, such as high elf history, rudimentary magic, archery, etc.
Zäle had never realized it before due to the fact that all children (except Markhas) disassociated from him, but he was indeed a very shy and withdrawn individual. Added to that, he had very few social skills due to aforementioned disassociation from his peers. That all added up to equal one very nervous and very sweaty dark elf kid at the back of the classroom on the first day of Zek’laus Zentarium education. Zäle had arrived early by chance, so he had plenty of time to work up even more stress. As the rest of the children slowly filed in there were mixed expressions lobbed Zäle’s way. Some looked right through him. Others spared a hateful or disgusted glance his way, and the rest were too worried and nervous to care at all.
Finally an elven priest with long golden hair came striding pompously into the room. The chatter died instantaneously. He surveyed the students haughtily for a moment, and then introduced himself to the class.
“My name is Hass’Del’Gado, and I have been a high elf priest for nearly 127 years now (Elves live a really long time). I will be your Lector this year. As for rules of the class this is the only one, I shall speak and you shall listen. Unless you have some dire consequence awaiting you, you shall not speak unless told to-" He broke off abruptly, an unreadable gaze fixated with icy intensity upon Zale. So they have encumbered ME with this, eh? He thought to himself. No matter. He quickly broke off his stare and began his lecture.
"Today we shall begin learning of Vaelrun history. In the beginning of time the Light deigned to create Vaelrun and the sentient beings that live upon it. The first race It created was the Elves. Two to be precise. One was a male named Xal'drun, the other a female named Val'drae. At the time of their creation the Light gave offered them the gift of Life, at the simple cost of following the Light and all of its commands. Each accepted Its gracious offer, and as the Light blessed them with life they began to procreate and in time came to have hundreds of children. But, neither Xal'drun nor Val'drae nor any of their children followed all the Light's commands, and thus the Light presented them with a second choice. They could accept grace and mercy from the Light and continue to try and follow It, or they could forsake the Light and follow their own paths. Xal'drun accepted grace and followed the Light, and the children that loved the Light went to him. Val'drae chose to follow her own path, and the children who held no love for the Light followed her."
"The Light blessed Xal'drun and his followers with fair bodies and even fairer lands. But to Val'drae and her followers the Light gave punishments that reflected their choice. She and all her followers were cursed with sinister forms and banished to the cavernous realms underneath the face of Väelrün. And so for 3,000 years the High Elves experienced a glorious golden age of peace and prosperity. Also during this time the Light created the other races of Väelrün, Humans, Orcs, Goblins, Dwarves, Naiphads, Kraeklar, and many more. It gave each and every one the same choices It had presented to the Elves. Important to note, children, that only one race ever denied the Light's first offer, Life. That race is Legion, and it is precisely why those filthy creatures so despise and hate the living."
"Now then, this golden age ended in the year 3027. In that year the Dark Elves poured out of the earth in a spurge of conquest. They began the First War, and the High Elves were the first to face their wrath. Indeed, millions of High Elves lost their lives to their dark cousins in the first day of the war alone." Zäle's eyes widened and his mouth hung open in pure shock. His parents had never mentioned any of this.
"Our people were weak, unprepared, and unorganized. They never stood a chance. The Dark Elves hunted and slaughtered them to the brink of extinction for 17 years. And the High Elves were not the only victims of the war. Indeed, every race of Väelrün found themselves under attack by the vast legions of Valdraeyñia. The Dark Elves appeared to have grown tired of their dark home underneath the earth, and so they began to build their empire upon the shattered ruins of those whom they had crushed without mercy. Every race fought against them, but none even came close to defeating them. Eventually all but the farthest empires had become slaves to Valdraeyñia. The majority of Valdraeyñia's slaves were High Elf of course, for not a single individual of the entire race had escaped capture. And so for hundreds of years we High Elves were enslaved by the Dark Elves. Finally, in 4223, our nation escaped from the clutches of Valdraeyñia through the leadership of High Elf priest Maka'Xel'Re and the guidance of the Light. Now then, it was at this time tha..."
The words trailed off in Zale's ears. He was dumfounded. Was this true? HOW could it be true!? Was this bloody past really his heritage? He neither heard nor understood anything else the Lector said that day. He was in a daze as he walked home, his feet making pitiful shuffles as he went along. For Zale, this was only a taste of the darkness to come.
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Chapter 3-Light in the Darkness
It is the year 10,060. Zale is now 17 years old. His curly, pale hair has grown long and shaggy on him, and he had grown quite tall as well. He was very skinny, in fact some would even say he cut quite the feminine figure. Zale had never been able to resolve the issues of his people's legacy. When his parents verified for him that night that what the Lector had said was true, a dark seed had rooted itself into Zale's heart. He had nursed that seed with negativity and self-blame until it finally sprouted during his 15th year into a shadowed overgrowth of self-hatred and depression. He went to great lengths to make sure none knew of this because of his shame. And now he found himself slipping further and further into darkness as each day brought new pains and deeper agonies.
But not every day was a dark one. Sometimes he could actually be quite happy for a short time. And other times he was able to find a deep measure of peace in the tranquility of nature. Today was one such day, as he was out wandering one of his favorite trails of the forest. He soon came to a very small pond, more of a puddle than a pond actually. That was precisely why Zale had nicknamed it "The Puddle". He neared The Puddle's edge and peered down into it's murky waters. Within said waters swam dozens of creatures, all quite tiny. There were tadpoles, leeches, water beetles, and insect larvae of all sort! Zale had always found nature to be amazingly marvelous, and so of course he soon found himself enraptured by the pond's slippery inhabitants.
Zale was not the only one who enjoyed walking forest trails. Enter Mar'le'çena, a sprightly elf girl of 15 years. She was quite slim, her eyes a riveting sky-blue, and her brown hair was, in this author's opinion, dreadfully short. She preferred to go by "Mar'le".
She, too, was walking some of her favorite trails this sunny day, and Zale's happened to be one of them. As she rounded a bend she saw Zale huddled at the edge of the distant pond. She stopped in wonderment for a second, and then threw on a mischievious smile as she tiptoed her way up to him. She figured she would have herself some fun and scare the wits out of this boy. And if he turned out to be dangerous well...she could always rely on running away screaming! So imbued with wonderment was Zale that he didn't even notice her as she snuck right up behind him and stood on tiptoes to peer over his shoulder. She waited a few seconds, and then finally spoke.
"Whatcha lookin' at?!" she practically shouted. Zale had been ambushed by racist townsfolk in the past, and so his immediate reaction was of instinct and fear. He deftly rolled to the side, pulling out a concealed knife as he did so, and turned to face her, crouched on one knee. In his eyes was cool death, and his mouth was a taut line of primal determination. "Oh!" gasped Mar'le, stunned beyond words. There was a moment or two of intensity, until Zale snapped out of his fearsome reverie and stood up.
"Err...oops," Zale muttered. "I'm quite sorry...I, uh...I guess you surprised me is all." He just stared, at a loss for what else to say to her. Mar'le did not look assuaged in the least. He heaved a sigh. "Listen, I truly am sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, it's just...well...I've met some not-so-friendly people out here at times, ok?" Mar'le nodded almost imperceptibly. "Er...what are you doing out here by yourself anyways?"
"I should ask you the same question," she said slyly, staring pointedly at the knife in his hand. Zale followed her gaze and grinned sheepishly.
"Heh well being a dark elf I thought I might wait around for someone to come by and stab...” His attempt at humor didn’t have the effect he wanted as he saw Mar'les eyes widen at this sudden proclamation. "Er, just kidding, just kidding!" She took a step back and narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. Zale raised a hand in placation.
"Listen, we got off to a terrible start. Let's try this again. My name is Zale." Mar'le continued to inspect him doubtfully, and then with a shrug introduced herself.
"You can call me Mar'le!"
"Right...er...it is quite the nice day out today. I don't s'pose you could use some company on your walk?"
"Hmmm...well I guess it would be nice for a change. I usually like to do this alone but I'll let you tag along, I suppose." The two walked in silence for some time, well not total silence. Mar'le kept humming some delightful tune rather loudly, but at least on key. Zale, having no idea what to say, was quite content to enjoy the sights and sounds about him as they strolled. After walking for some time Mar'le ceased her humming and a slightly awkward silence once again pervaded amongst them. Mar'le would have none of that, of course.
"So, what's it like being a dark elf?" She asked bluntly. Zale eyed her warily.
"Well...it's not like anything really," he responded. "I'm just like you, except..."
"Except what?"
"You're not hated by everyone." She eyed him appraisingly for a moment.
"I don't hate you."
"Oh...well...that's very kind of you."
"I must admit I was always quite frightened of you for some time. I was always afraid you were going to kill us all in class someday." she grinned suddenly. "It doesn't help that you're always scowling and glaring either. You ought to try smiling more often." At that he did smile. But it faded away as he spoke again.
"Heh. Funny for you to say that. I used to smile all the time at people. But...I remember one day I heard a really funny joke told amongst some kids. It was really funny, so I couldn't help but laugh and smile in their direction. As soon as I had, their laughter died immediately. And they all eyed me with such a look of fear...and disgust. One of them said to me, "Never smile at me again. You're scary.' And I've tried to remember that lesson ever since." Mar'le eyed him sadly. His expression had grown darker with each word.
"That's terrible."
"I guess."
"No, really. That's awful!" His eyes evaded hers. It was clear he had grown uncomfortable. He threw on a platonic smile and shrugged.
"So, what's it like being a dark elf?" She asked bluntly. Zale eyed her warily.
"Well...it's not like anything really," he responded. "I'm just like you, except..."
"Except what?"
"You're not hated by everyone." She eyed him appraisingly for a moment.
"I don't hate you."
"Oh...well...that's very kind of you."
"I must admit I was always quite frightened of you for some time. I was always afraid you were going to kill us all in class someday." she grinned suddenly. "It doesn't help that you're always scowling and glaring either. You ought to try smiling more often." At that he did smile. But it faded away as he spoke again.
"Heh. Funny for you to say that. I used to smile all the time at people. But...I remember one day I heard a really funny joke told amongst some kids. It was really funny, so I couldn't help but laugh and smile in their direction. As soon as I had, their laughter died immediately. And they all eyed me with such a look of fear...and disgust. One of them said to me, "Never smile at me again. You're scary.' And I've tried to remember that lesson ever since." Mar'le eyed him sadly. His expression had grown darker with each word.
"That's terrible."
"I guess."
"No, really. That's awful!" His eyes evaded hers. It was clear he had grown uncomfortable. He threw on a platonic smile and shrugged.
"Really, it's not that big of a deal. I'm a lone wolf. Always have been, and always will be. It's my lot in life, and I'm happy with it." Mar'le continued to eye him sadly, but decided to let it pass.
"If you say so, Zale. But hey, I'm not the only one who doesn't hate you. Aren't you friends with Marr'khas?"
"Well yeah, that's true-"
"He's really funny! You should introduce me sometime..." Zale grinned.
"Maybe. Yeah Marr'khas is funny, but also pretty weird. I'll tell ya, this one time he..."
And so Zale regaled Mar'le with several hilarious tales about himself and Marr'khas. They spent the rest of the day together, amidst laughter and good conversation. Zale had opportuned upon another one of those precious commodities called friends. And a pretty one, at that. As the sun began to depart in his crimson-red wake, they said their goodbyes.
"Shall I see you ever again?" said Zale apprehensively. Mar'le laughed at this.
"Of course! I'll see you at school silly. And you should know, I'm not one to go with the flow. I'll still talk to you in public." He sighed with relief inwardly.
"I do hope so, thanks. Well...until I see you again."
"Goodbye!" With that said, Mar'le headed off down a path opposite his, back home. Zale smiled at himself, a rare thing. He watched her until she was gone in the distance, and then the grim line appeared once again. He turned and sprinted on homewards at a rapid pace. He did so enjoy running...
Chapter 6: How the Sword was Sharpened
It has only been 7 months since Zale's 17th birthday, and 5 since he met Mar'le. He and Mar'le have built a powerful friendship strong enough to rival that between him and Marr'khas. The two are more dear to him than his own life. He has made several other school friends as well, through Mar'le and Marr'khas. He has grown content with his life, though indeed the darkness still writhes within him, albeit deep, deep down. He has pushed that seething darkness down into a hole within his innermost core, where he neither can feel it nor sense it anymore. Little does he know that this will be his undoing.
But for the moment, he is safe. He is happy, and life is good. On this particular day he, Marr'khas and Mar'le were all out on the trails together. Mar'le was fastidiously reading a book under a tree, as she often did. Meanwhile Marr'khas and Zale were sparring. They no longer used crude wooden swords, now they traded blows with heavy, blunt swords made of metals. The swords, although not lethal, were certainly dangerous is not handled correctly.
"Eeeyahhh!!!" cried Mar'Khas as he charged haphazardly at Zale in his usual fashion. Zale stood his ground steadfastly, his eyes small slits of concentration. Mar'Khas swung his sword horizontally in a mighty side-swing at Zale's chest. Zale blocked the blow with two hands, one on the hilt and one on the side facing him. He pushed forward on Mar'Khas' blade so that the heavier sword sagged to his left, putting Mar'Khas into an akward position. Zale brought his sword up high, two-handed, and leaped at Mar'Khas to hit him with a powerful downward strike. Mar'Khas wisely let his body fall with the weight of his sword and roll away in that direction. Zale's sword embedded itself in the dirt slightly. Zale frowned as Mar'khas came back at him, this time with his sword tucked in close for a nice penetrating stab. Zale counterswung with a deft two-handed swing that pinned Mar'khas' blade to the ground on Zale's left. Zale rapidly moved his sword up the length of Mar'khas', keeping it pinned but bringing his sword closer to Mar'khas. Sparks flew all the while, and then Mar'khas' blade fell to the grund as Zale's sword connected painfully with Mar'khas' hands.
"Owwwww, that hurt a lot!" complained Mar'khas. Zale smiled and sheathed his sword. He held out his hand (They had placed a bet).
"Victory is mine. Pay up." Mar'khas grinned.
"Oh ok, here ya go!" As he said this Mar'khas turned and promptly farted in Zale's general direction. A disgusted frown crossed Zale's face for a moment, and then both he and Mar'khas erupted into explosive laughter. Mar'le spared a moment to cast a condescending gaze on the two.
"Lovely," she muttered with a flicker of a smile. She started to read again when all of a sudden Zale's face had squeezed itself between the book and her face.
"Wanna go on an adventure?!" he bellowed. She eyed him questioningly for a moment, one eyebrow arched, and then gave a non-commital shrug.
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Chapter 2
30 years later a knight by the name of Rannek came to a rather dark pub in a small city of the kingdom of Gradia. He dismounted his steed and walked inside the pub. Inside it was, if possible, even grittier than the outside. This famous pub, the Dark Raven, was often filled by mercenaries, heroes, and villains of all sorts. Any race was allowed in as long as they had gold and was willing to spend it. At one table was a large group of dwarves muttering quietly amongst themselves. They paid Rannek no attention. In one corner of the room sat a fierce-looking half-orc swigging a whiskey. At two other tables were various elves talking amongst themselves. In the other 3 corners sat a ranger conversing with a sorceress, a mage with dark red robes sipping a beer, and a shadowy man with a hood pulled up so that his face was hidden. Rannek walked up to the bartender and ordered a cup of beer. As he was starting to drink he heard a crash from behind him. He turned around to see that a scuffle was breaking out between a dwarf and an elf. A dwarf with black hair tied into a ponytail and a furiously large beard had thrown a jug of ale at an elf and now the two were brandishing axe and spear against each other.
“Hmph, ya earned that one ya did, ye durned elf!” the dwarf said angrily.
“I should have known filthy dwarves would be in this dump of a tavern, why did I even bother to come in here?!” retorted the elf. At this the dwarf gave a bellow of rage and leaped at the elf in a flying tackle. Elves are known to be quite agile beings, and this elf was no different. He ducked to the side and stabbed in with his spear at the dwarf’s chest. The dwarf quickly brought up his axe in just enough time to smack the spear away.
“ENOUGH! I’ll have no fighting in this tavern, if you want to tear each other apart do it outside!” shouted the owner of the tavern. The two combatants didn’t seem to hear him however. As they both began to charge each other again a dark misty globe appeared upon them both.
“What’s this, another one of your durned elf tricks?!” shouted the dwarf in surprise. The elf replied calmly,
“Humph, the only kinds of elves able to summon up darkness like this are-”
“Dark elves” replied the hooded figure. As he spoke he threw back his hood, revealing his dark visage and red eyes. The room quieted. One dwarf finally had the courage to break the silence.
“I knew this was a darker tavern than most but I had no idea scum like this was allowed in here.” he said disgustedly. The drow male simply smiled.
“I have no intention of doing anyone harm, in fact I was trying to stop the fight between these two…gentlemen.” By the looks on the faces of the dwarf and elf parties it seemed they didn’t think so. However, one elf rose and said.
“Hmmm, your name wouldn’t happen to be Zale Gringo would it?” The dark elf’s face split into a wide grin.
“Ah so I’m not as covert as I believed, yes I am the mercenary Zale.” The elves at the table looked greatly surprised. So did Rannek, but his expression was more of satisfaction and interest than the awe and fear of those around him.
“Ahem”, he said to Zale. “I have been searching for worthy warriors such as you to aid me on a quest. You see there has been a rogue band of dark elves living on the surface for the past 15-20 years. At first my kingdom ignored them, mostly because dark elves are dangerous foes and secondly because we did not think they would cause too much harm. After several years on the surface they attacked a caravan. Everyone was killed and all of the caravan’s items and gold had been stolen. After similar cases arouse the high council of our kingdom, Rauston, decided that action had to be taken. No armies can be effective because the drow party will simply elude any large force deployed. No, only a small force of highly trained warriors can be used successfully. We have gathered several warriors already. I, myself, am the leader of this small force. I have heard of your many feats over the past few years, in which you destroyed many goblin and orc hideouts, took care of many villainous men, and actually saved a small village from an attack by ogres all by yourself. You seem the perfect man for the job, you being a dark elf yourself, but with much nobler qualities than the rest of thy kin. So, will you join us in this mission to destroy this dark elf band? They have already attacked and pillaged a small village and are now using it as a small base camp. If you help us you will be paid very highly in gold. So, what say you?” Zale’s eyes narrowed in concentration as he thought this over. After a minute or so had passed he finally answered.
“I will join you in this quest, but only on the grounds that we give these drow a chance before we slay them.” Rannek gaped at him in surprise.
“B-but surely you know how heartless these drow are? They destroyed an entire village!” he sputtered. Seeing the frown on Zale’s face made him stop talking. Zale then spoke once again, in a quiet controlled tone of voice.
“Perhaps my kin are foul, but I will not be so quick to mercilessly slaughter them. If they show their souls to be truly evil then I shall cut them down myself...but until then I want you to show them mercy.”
“Well then we shall show them mercy, but I fear that they will give us none at all,” said Rannek hastily. “Well…we should return to Solaris, the capital of Rausten, at once to meet the others and ready for our mission.” With that he and Zale left the Dark Raven, and proceeded on to Solaris on horseback, leaving everybody in the tavern quite flabbergasted.
It was a three-day journey to Solaris and when they arrived, there were dark clouds in the sky emptying their dark tears upon the majestic city. The city was shaped like an oval inside a square, with the square being defensive walls and archer towers formed around the inner oval of the city’s various buildings, towers, shops, castles, and taverns. The outer walls of the king’s castle were paved in gold, and usually it gleamed merrily in the sun, this had earned the city its name, Solaris. Today, however, the dark clouds made the city look dark and somewhat forbidding. They arrived at one of the city’s large gates and the soldiers let them in upon seeing Rannek. They made their way through the city, arriving shortly at King Malfus’ castle stronghold. They stabled their horses and were ushered to the King’s throne room. When they arrived Malfus ordered his current guests to leave. After they had left the king got off his throne and strode towards Rannek and Zale.
“Ah so this is the final man you’ve found for our quest? Remove your hood; I would see the face of the last man to join in this perilous quest.” Zale did so, and Malfus’ face remained impassive as he studied Zale’s features. “Hmmm, a dark elf eh? You must be Zale; there has been talk in the nations of your skill and nobility.” Zale’s face showed surprise for a moment then he said
“Yes, despite the color of my skin I am no less valiant than any other knight or mercenary. I will help you capture or dispatch these drow who assail your nation.” King Malfus frowned and said
“Why, I’m afraid there will be no capturing, drow are far too dangerous to be kept alive. This mission is to seek out and destroy this band of drow.” Zale’s face remained passive as he replied,
“Of course, sire” The doors to the throne room opened and a motley assortment of persons stepped inside.
“Ah here are the men and women you shall be working with to bring down this group of drow,” exclaimed Rannek. “Here is Selena Starbough, an elf archer with expert marksmanship and excellent sword skills as well.” A willowy elf woman nodded in Zale’s direction. She had hair as black as jet and sparkling green eyes. “And over here we have Sparta Cormac, a mighty barbarian of great strength. Sparta was easily 7 feet tall with powerful looking arms and broad shoulders. His dark eyes met Zale’s and he uttered a low grunt as a greeting. “Now over here is Balder Hawk-eye, a dwarf mercenary of no small fame.” Balder was no higher than Zale’s waist and he had a large red beard and wore an eye-patch. His remaining eye was red and had a fierce look to it. “And, finally last but not least, Louise Mikshalla, a powerful sorceress who not only has powerful spells, but knows how to use a blade as well.” Zale’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he looked at Louise. She was stunningly beautiful with sunny blonde hair and fierce but shining blue eyes. Zale could only stare as his mind overloaded. He hadn’t seen Louise in many years, yet as he saw her he felt his old love for her bloom and grow within seconds. Zale quickly recovered and assumed a neutral expression again.
“Well, before me there is assembled an able party…let us set out then as soon as we possible,” he said.
“All our supplies and are ready to go, we can set out tomorrow”, replied Rannek. With that said the members of the assembled party retired to their rooms for the night.
Chapter 3
The party woke up early and were riding at a fast pace as the blood-red sun was rising. It would be two days till they would arrive at the sacked village were the drow were reported to be situated. Night fell and the warriors set up camp and lit a fire. They were noticeably split; the dwarf and the barbarian kept their distance from Zale and were huddled in private conversation. Selena was by herself brooding over something as she gazed at the stars. Rannek, Zale, and Louise were sitting close to the campfire.
“So”, said Rannek, “We’ll reach the ransacked town by tomorrow, so let’s outline some strategies here. Now, I know none of us has dealt with dark elves before-”
“I have!” interrupted Balder. “An’ I’ve got the scar to prove it”, he said as he pointed to a vicious looking laceration underneath his eye. “Durned drow nearly slashed my head off, but I threw my head back in barely enough time.”
“Yes, well, anyway, not all of us have. Now remember Drow are crafty and may use cunning tricks to try and defeat us. Be careful. We must always stick together so that we cannot get picked off. Watch out especially for their priestesses; however I have heard that their skill with weapons is nothing to sneeze at either. Show no mercy, Drow will spin and weave lies if only to save their own skin. Any questions? No? Well then I’m going to bed, I’ll see all of you tomorrow. And don’t stay up too late; we’re going to need to be energetic and fit tomorrow.” With that said, Rannek turned and retired to his tent. One by one each member of the group went to bed until eventually only Louise and Zale were left by the fire.
“Well…I never thought I’d see you again”, said Louise. “I’ve missed you Zale…all these years I thought I had finally gotten over you and moved on…but as soon as I saw you today my heart almost stopped. Don’t you feel it too?” Zale looked deep into her azure eyes.
“Yes, I do. You have no idea how lonely I’ve been all these years. Yes I became quite famous through my quests, but I had not a friend in the world. Why did we ever go our separate ways Louise?” Louise looked at the ground for a few moments. Then she met his gaze again.
“It would never have worked out Zale. My parents would have murdered you!” A hardy gleam came into Zale’s eyes.
“Heh, I would have liked to see them try”, he countered, and he unsheathed his sword and held it up as he did so. Looking at the sharp blade, he muttered “Do you know that they call me the blade demon? Many men crave and envy me for my skills. But little do they know how much more I envy them! No matter how much fame I have received, nor how much respect I am deemed, I am still shut out from society. It is not as bad as it once was…but still I have no true friends in this world. For who would be brave enough to suffer the dishonor of befriending with a Drow?!”
“What about Marcus? He was always a true friend to you”, said Louise. Zale’s eyes darkened as he replied.
“Marcus died several years after we became mercenaries. He died saving a family of farmers from an attack by trolls. Not one troll survived that fight, but his wounds were too grievous even for the healing powers of sorcery.”
“I can understand your pain, but it is unnecessary now. You are in good company, can you not see that?” Zale stared stonily into the fire, as if by piercing the heat of the flames he could set ablaze his own icy heart. “Hmph, you have slain thousands of enemies, yet you cannot overcome yourself, I never thought you weak enough to be overcome by despair, but I guess I was wrong,” said Louise. She stomped off, angry and impatient with him. Zale continued staring at the flames and pondering Louise’s words. It was a long time before he finally fell asleep.
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Meanwhile, at the ghost town of Ivangol the dark elves were planning. In total there were 10 drow gathered in the town hall that they had turned into their headquarters. Shek’Nafein lounged in the corner of the room, embraced by shadows. In the Underdark he had been an assassin/thief of no small quality. He had failed his last job, to assassinate a certain drow priestess who was a thorn in the side of his employer. Shek had underestimated his foe, but had been able to flee with all but his life shattered. Priestesses are revered in Dark Elf society, so Shek was left with no choice but to flee his homeland for the surface world.
Seated on a luxurious chair in the room was a well-muscled drow named Zakat’Shal-badur, who was currently stuffing his face with food from a nearby table. Mia Zenti, an ex-priestess, was watching him with disgusted contempt has she lounged on an overstuffed sofa. Zakat had been a powerful Weapons Master in Menzoberranzan, but a stronger House had attacked his. The assault had been fast and devastating, and as a Weapons Master he had known that sticking around would be useless. Rather than fight a hopeless battle alongside his family members, he fled amidst the battle and somehow made it to the surface world. Mia had been a very respectable priestess of Lloth, the deity of the Dark Elves, and had had much to hope for. She had known the leaders of the band, Zekiel and Nykksha, prior to her retreat from the Underdark. Her reasons for joining the two in their sojourn to the surface were a mystery.
The other five members of the band were on the other side of the room feasting and conversing of trivial matters. The foremost of this second group was Arrkmed Tan’dam, a young drow who had been training in sorcery. Once when his master had been out of the training room, he had seen an interesting looking object and picked it up. Unfortunately this relic was a container of a powerful demon which the master sometimes used in rituals or summoned for battle. The master had often scolded him for touching his things, but the young apprentice was a cocky drow who looked upon his master with loathing and contempt. As he gripped the alluring object in his hands the demon became aware and quickly possessed the student mage. As the master came in he noticed nothing new about his student.
“Well what are you just standing around for? Turn around so I can begin the lesson. Hey, I’m talking to you!” the master had snapped. It was too late that he saw the crimson chalice in the boy’s hands. In the second it took for the mage to reach for a spell component the demon had assimilated partial control of the student, turning him into a demon/drow hybrid and with blinding speed had stabbed his adversary with a spiked whip-cord tail that had grown from the hybrid student. The demon had only been able to partially possess the boy because he had a strong magical resistance. The boy heard the demon talking in his head, and as he escaped from his homeland the demon soon became a reassuring partner who could guide him and make him strong. It was only because of this unholy symbiosis that the boy was successful in his pilgrimage to the surface world and had been accepted as a member of the rogue drow group.
Next to him was a tall drow named Rai’Duun. Rai had been a soldier in the Menzoberranzan army. He once witnessed a commanding officer kill off a rival, and thus knew too much. The drow commander had attempted to finish him off, but the drow escaped due mostly to luck. He attempted to find solace at his House but they would not believe him and turned him out as a failure. With nothing to lose he ventured to the surface world.
The other 3 drow were females, Glishan Shroudra, Shandris Feymoon, and Sonya Nin’gun. Glishan had been born into poverty and had to work on the streets just to keep alive. When she had kept this up for over 200 years, she decided it was time for change. Because of the unbending social class system of Menzoberranzan she had to make her way to the surface world in order to find a better life. Shandris had been a matron mother who had attempted to undo certain failures by seeking the counsel of the drow goddess, Lloth. The ceremony went wrong however, as she asked for too much and angered the goddess. Lloth is cruel and chaotic and sent her demon servants, yochlols, after Shandris. Against all odds, Shandris killed off the demons. However, the goddess always wins, and Shandris knew this. She quickly journeyed to the sun-stricken surface where perhaps even the almighty Lloth’s gaze might falter. Sonya had been a fine young female drow who was in her first year at Arach Tinilieth, the complex where young drow females are taught about the spider queen and transformed into priestesses. She failed in the tests there, and her mother became so enraged that she tried to annihilate this failure of her womb. Sonya’s siblings, who had long harbored hatred for their mother, used this as an excuse to attack her. During the confusion Sonya was able to escape to the surface.
The leaders of the group were Zekiel’Amarath and Nyyksha Amarath. They had been a drow couple who controlled a powerful House that had a place on the Ruling Council. The two shared a powerful love for each other, a strange occurrence in the incredibly self-focused world of drow. Despite this love, they were both just as wicked as the rest of their race and just as ambitious. They turned out to be too ambitious for their own good when they tried to destroy the next House on the Ruling Council in order to attain a higher position. They were defeated, and would have been destroyed had they not combined their resources to create a powerful portal to the surface just as the armies of the other Houses arrived to exact wicked vengeance upon them. Zekiel, his mate, and the first 3 of this band, were the original founders of the rogue drow group. They called themselves the Shadokin and worked to make a mark on the surface world.
“Alright, Shek, what of our merry band of travelers?” commanded Zekiel.
“Well,” said Shek, “The motley crew consists of 3 humans, a high elf, a dwarf (at this there were audible exclamations of disgust) and most interestingly, a dark elf.” The room went quiet.
“Most interesting indeed.” stated Zekiel. “And when should we expect our lovely guests to arrive? I want to make sure we have suitable party preparations”, he added with sarcasm.
“They should arrive sometime during the afternoon tomorrow,” said Shek in his soft, dark voice.
“Hmmmm…fast little movers, eh? Well our plan remains the same. Everyone remain hidden at your posts tomorrow until I give the signal. And Rai? Make sure to be careful when releasing our “pets” tomorrow, wouldn’t want you to get hurt now, would we?” said Zekiel. “Now then, our guests will be faced with two decisions, to split up and try to enter the town in secret, or barge in with reckless abandon. If they split up, we will simply cut them down individually while they are separated. And if they don’t…well then we’ll have our little surprise for them.”
“Until tomorrow, I say we party like hell and enjoy ourselves!” shouted Zakat. Zekiel stared at him coldly and the weapons master blanched. Then, surprisingly, Zekiel grinned and said
“A capital idea, weapons master. I haven’t had a good relaxation since….oh since yesterday!” Some of the drow laughed, and all of them smiled, for they knew what it meant to get on Zekiel’s bad side. The Shadokin quickly broke out the barrels of liquor they had pillaged and made good use of it.
Chapter 4
The company awoke to a sunny and surprisingly cheerful day. “Ah, the brightness of our sun gives good tidings”, said Selena. “It will give us strength while it petrifies our enemies.”
“Aye”, replied Balder. “The drow don’t like the sun, so they’ll probably be lying in ambush. I wouldn’t put it past em’ to try some trick or another on us.”
“Balder is right,” added Rannek. “But we don’t really have any way of sneaking into the town unnoticed and if we split up we’ll be butchered.”
“But, if we just go in all together, we will be more vulnerable to whatever traps and spells they have planned for us. I say we split up into 3 small groups of 2 and explore the town” stated Zale.
“Hmm…that makes sense…but still. I say we have a vote on it. Who’s for staying in one unit?” asked Rannek. Sparta, Selena, and Balder’s hands went up alongside Rannek’s. “Well that settles it, we go in as one Unit.” concluded Rannek.
“Alright,” said Zale, “But we must have caution when entering the city.” They quickly cleaned up their camp and made way to the fallen town. For 6 more hours the company rode in uneasy silence. Finally, they reached a small rise overseeing the sacked town. The travelers tied their horses up in a small grove of trees and took only their battle equipment with them towards the city.
“Hold,” said Louise. “I know a spell of illusion so that we will not be spotted.” She softly sang an incantation, and the party watched as they gradually faded into nothingness.
“Gah! This is so unnerving, I hope we musn’t remain like this for long,” grumbled Balder.
“Grahahaha, do not vurry my leetle dwarven friend. Once we git ta fightin, the spell vill stop vurking,” laughed Sparta.
“Ah so you know something of magic?” inquired Louise. The great warrior grinned.
“Ach missy, I don’t know nothing ‘bout magic, but a friend of mine does, a great vizard.”
“Oh really?” said Louise, intrigued.
“Aye, he fought alongside me vhen I vas just starting the mercenary business. Lucky for me, the gods know there’s plenty o’ times I voulda perished if it veren’t for yon vizard,” he responded. “Aye but hes old now, lives as a peaceful hermit up in Northrend. I visit ‘im vhen I get the chance, to make sure, you know, he ain’t dead yeet.”
“Aw, that’s very sweet,” said Louise.
“Ya vell, its da least I kin do for ol’ Mardour,” he replied just as they arrived close to the charred gates of the town.
“Alright,” said Rannek. “Silence from here on in until we find the dark elves.” The small group of fighters made their way into the broken streets of the town, and then began carefully looking into the buildings. After about a half hour of searching the party had made its way to the town square. Just as they walked in a voice greeted them.
“Well, well if it isn’t our weary mercenaries come to smite us!” said Zekiel mockingly. He was standing atop a small tower that was charred and slightly crumbled. The party braced their weapons and faced him.
“How do you know we are here?” asked Louise. Zekiel laughed balefully.
“Oh my, you really do hurt me. Did you think a sizable group of drow would have no spell casters among them? Our spell casters have shown you to us quite clearly.”
“So,” said Rannek. “Why did you ruin your edge of surprise instead of assailing us with all you have?” Zekiel answered
“Hmmm, perhaps because of this.” He made a sweeping hand gesture and then grinned evilly. Suddenly hidden gates that the drow had erected closed in the town square, neatly trapping the warriors. Just then the warriors noticed that all the doors to the town square buildings had been boarded over, ruining any chance of escape.
“Hmph,” said Zale. “So you’ve trapped us, big deal.” Suddenly a building wall behind the group exploded outward accompanied by a roar. From the haze of dust came two enraged and hungry trolls. Zekiel laughed at the company’s total surprise and terror. Selena was at the rear of the group and the first to be reached by the trolls. The faster troll, a hairless black beast that was unusually fast for its kind, was rushing at her and ready to tear her to pieces. Selena was overcome by shock and was unable to do anything but stand and watch the beast approach. Just as it seemed Selena had met her fate, the mighty barbarian Sparta rushed forward with lightning speed and tackled the great beast with his bare hands. So great was the man’s strength that he actually began driving back the stunned troll. The troll quickly recovered and began forcing the mighty man backwards and then to his knees. Suddenly a quivering arrow appeared in the beast’s face, then another and another until a steady stream of arrows was pounding the troll. Balder has unslung his crossbow, and Selena had regained her senses, along with her fury. She and Balder were firing a slew of projectiles at the beast. The troll tottered backwards under the vicious hail, and was finished off with a great swing of Sparta’s great axe. By now the other larger troll had reached the party and charged Sparta. Sparta rushed to attack the beast but was literally swept off his feet by an effortless smack of the creature’s large mace. It roared in battle fury and continued towards Selena and Balder. It swept it’s mace down in an attempt to crush them, but they both rolled out of the way. Zale then moved to quickly destroy the powerful foe. He daringly stepped onto the mace and then ran up it to the creatures’ arm to slash at its face as he side-flipped away. The troll howled in fury and turned to attack this devastating aggressor. It clumsily swung it’s mace at Zale, but Zale rolled underneath the attack and came up stabbing his sharp katana into the beast’s stomach. It roared in pain and grabbed Zale in its powerful hand. It started crushing Zale’s speedy, yet frail, frame. “Gahhh-ahhhhh!!” cried Zale as the creature tried to kill him. Suddenly its grip weakened and a look of idiocy came into its face. The troll let Zale go and tumbled forward. Zale barely managed to roll out of the way. He looked up to see Rannek with his sword almost wholly embedded in the creature’s back. The warriors reformed into a defensive circle and awaited the dark elves’ next move. “Damn-it!” cried Zekiel, “release the second wave!” Suddenly the surrounding makeshift gates lifted to bring in small hordes of goblins who were brought on with promises of gold and glory by the Shadokin. The creatures rushed with abandon, having received a spell of berserker rage from the Shadokin mages. For several minutes the party slaughtered the hapless goblins with little difficulty. Only when they had slain two-thirds of the goblins did they realize it was simply a distraction. All the Shadokin had assembled in the town square and the mages were completing the casting of undoubtedly devastating spells.
“Spread out and kill the dark elves!” cried Rannek. The party roared a fierce battle cry as they met their new opponents. Zale rushed directly to Zekiel, who was surrounded by Shek, Rai, and Nyyksha. Behind him followed Rannek. Louise and Selena assaulted Shandris, Glishan, and Sonya. Meanwhile Balder and Sparta attacked Arrkmed and Zakat. Right away Sparta noticed something odd about Arrkemd and rushed towards him. Balder faced Zakat with his double-edged battle axe. Zakat had a mighty broadsword and wielded it like it weighed nothing. Sparta leaped into the air and came down with a crushing blow against Arrkemed. Arrkmed sidled out of the way with astonishing speed and raked Sparta’s back with his claws.
“Agh! What in the hell are you?!” he screamed as he brought his axe at Arrkemed in a sweeping uppercut. The axe landed a glancing blow on Arrkmed and sent him sailing into a wall. Arrkmed looked up then smiled. Suddenly flames surrounded him and he allowed the demon inside him to assume full control.
“GAHAHAHA” the demon taunted. “COME WITH ME TO HELL!” the demon roared as he charged at Sparta. Meanwhile Balder was engaged in a close fight with Zakat. Balder was strong but Zakat was fast and Balder was barely able to block his blows. After several tense moments of blade ringing and deft swinging, Balder nearly fell to a feint by Zakat. Zakat feinted right then stabbed left. Balder performed a death-defying spin and swung as he landed on the left side of Zakat’s body. His axe cleaved through Zakat’s chest armor and sent him tumbling face down amongst specks of blood. Zakat began to slowly rise but was stopped by a killing blow to the back of the head by Balder. Shandris and Sonya were launching multiple spells at Louise and Selena. It took Louise’s entire magical prowess just to ward off the magic attacks, so she was unable to launch any offensive spells. This was fine however, as Selena was a lightning quick archer. She had stopped Glishan dead in her tracks with ease and was now launching multiple waves of arrows at the ex-priestesses. Her arrows thudded and bounced off of the magical shields they had erected, however.
“Louise, destroy the magic barrier!” commanded Selena.
“But Selena, we’ll be open to their attacks!” answered Louise.
“Just do it!” cried Selena. Louise ceased her defensive spell casting and did a complicated spell that removed the shielding. As she did this a barrage of bolts and flames hit Selena and Louise. Selena gritted her teeth against the pain and quickly lodged a notorious “exploding arrow”, one coated with a special powder used by dwarves in their mines. She loosed the arrow and upon impact it released a holocaust of violent fire and smoke. Meanwhile, Rannek and Zale were hard pressed against Zekiel and his chief captains. Shek proved to be a master with his jagged knives, and kept even the skilled Zale at a defensive stance. Rannek was facing off against both Zekiel and Rai. Nyyksha were launching debilitating spells that slowed, froze, burnt, zapped, and hurt Zale and Rannek. They were not faring very well. Just as Selena and Louise arrived to help, Rai pinned Ranneks sword to the ground and Zekiel took the opportunity to stab his longsword through Rannek’s chest. “Gahhhahhghhh,” muttered Rannek. Zekiel grinned gleefully as he lifted the dying warrior up and then swung his sword mightily to the left, throwing Rannek’s bleeding body into a wall.
“Noooooo!” cried Selena and sent a multitude of exploding shafts at Rai and Zekiel. Zekiel had the agility and brains to leap to the side just in time, but Rai was just looking up as the shafts hit him in the face and utterly destroyed his body. Sparta, too had met his match. The demon/drow hybrid was incredibly fast and strong. It had burned, stung and slashed Sparta. Sparta was down on one knee, breathing heavily and bleeding badly.
“WELL, WARRIOR I WILL GIVE YOU CREDIT, YOU ACTUALLY MADE QUITE A FOE. I WILL GAIN MUCH SATISFACTION IN ERADICATING YOU!” With that the demon launched its barbed tail like a spear at the exhausted barbarian. Suddenly Balder came out of nowhere, his axe swinging down upon the tail, slicing it clean off and causing it to fall short of its target. “YAHH! HOW DARE YOU?!” the demon/drow screamed in rage as it rushed towards this new foe. He ran with blinding speed to the valiant dwarf and gripped his throat in one clawed hand. The dwarf kicked and struggled as the demon lifted him up. The demon/hybrid grinned, and then extended an unseen claw from the knuckles in its hand. The demon then stabbed the dying dwarf through the heart, and proceeded to gnaw at his flesh. The barbarian saw this, and his strength returned in terrible fury. “DIE YOU FIEND!!!!” he cried as he ran, jumped and landed a killing blow with his axe on the demon/drow’s chest. The demon/drow released a scream of pure hatred as it died, and erupted into flames. The flames leaped along the axe handle to the barbarian and ended his life as well as the demon’s. Now Zale, Louise and Selena squared off against Zekiel and Nyyksha. Shek had been outdone by Zale’s sword mastery and lay off to the side in bloody ribbons. Louise and Nyyksha were having a fierce magical duel. Deadly spells were launched and broken, blocked and countered. Nyyksha was a very powerful mage, however, and used an incredible spell that destroyed her foe’s defenses, and then quickly followed it up with a spell of summoning that conjured several magical swords that attacked Louise. Zale, who was attacking Zekiel, saw this and tried to save Louise. Louise too tried to utter a spell in time but was too late. Zale managed to deflect one, then two of the five blades that raced for Louise, but even his skill could not save her. She was cut down by the merciless three remaining blades. Zale cried out in agony and then, with blazing fire in his eyes, leaped in the air and performed a flip right over Zekiel to land in front of Nykksha, slashing her apart in two places as he landed. Zekiel decided to even the odds by rushing at Selena. He blocked the arrows she shot at him with amazing skill and as he came near to her she began to reach for the dagger she kept in her boot for close encounters. However, the Drow swordsman was far too swift and he reached her with blinding speed to slash her stomach in an upward diagonal cut, twisting as he did so and following it up with a vicious roundhouse kick that sent her tumbling to the ground. He prepared to finish her off by stabbing downward into her chest, but Zale arrived like a blood-stained hurricane. Zale’s blows came like lightning, and became stronger with each consecutive strike. After some dancing of blades the two clashed their swords together in a contest of strength. As they pressed blades at one another’s, they began conversing.
“Hmph, why do you fight on? Your friends have all died, what can you gain in this world? You are faced by the prejudice of nations, but if you join me, we will be unstoppable,” said Zekiel. Zale spat at him and replied
“Your words are damned! I never wanted to believe it, but it seems you have shown me just how evil my own kin can be.”
“Not evil,” shrugged Zekiel, “simply pragmatic. To be successful, one cannot take time for others; one must take what one needs for oneself.”
“If that is your logic,” said Zale “then I would rather die than join you. I will slay you here and now, even if I must die in doing so!” And with that Zale exerted all his strength in a push of his blade against Zekiel’s, sending Zekiel tumbling back, frowning. Zekiel raised his sword again.
“You would rather die!?” he hissed. “Well,” he continued, with a smirk appearing on his face, “That can be arranged.” As the battle progressed, however, Zekiel grew quite serious. He and Zale were evenly matched. Soon they began to tire. Zekiel decided it was time to use psychological methods to defeat his foe. “Your friends are dead, and soon you will be also,” he said, taunting Zale. “Did you feel pain when I skewered your dear leader like the worthless pig he was? Or how about when I slaughtered your elf friend, or look over there, I can see the charred and bloody bodies of your other friends,” he taunted. Zale’s eyes merely hardened, but the taunting was getting to him. He started making mistakes, and he earned a few painful nicks from Zekiel’s blade for it. Zekiel kept pushing “Ah, or that lovely mage you gazed so dearly at, can you recall how she was slashed to bits? Oh how her blood gushed, her face a tormented thing of agon-” Zekiel had pushed his luck, as he soon found out. With blazing fury in his eyes and his strength returned, Zale locked blades with Zekiel again. This time Zale put his very soul into his sword, drained himself of all his inner strength. Zale pushed up and sent Zekiel’s sword tumbling through the air and away from the two sword masters. Zekiel’s face was a mask of stunned disbelief. “HAHHH!!!” cried Zale as he stabbed his katana through Zekiel’s stomach, then, placing his foot on Zekiel, drew the blade out letting the stunned swordsman stumble backwards. Blood poured out in a torrent from Zekiel’s back as he slowly dropped to his knees and then fell forward, dead.
Zale looked around at the carnage around him, sighed and sheathed his sword. He began walking away from the body-strewn courtyard, but stopped when he heard a familiar voice. He turned and looked to see that Selena was still alive. He ran to her.
“Please…I need…” she gasped. Zale hurriedly withdrew a large vial of healing potion. Selena drank it quickly, and then gasped as the healing potion worked to sew her torn flesh together and mend her bloodied organs. “Thank you.” She said. “What shall we do now?” she asked.
“We?” said Zale. “I am going to tell the King of Rausten what has occurred, receive my payment and go on with my usual existence.” He started pacing away.
“Wait,” she called after him. “It doesn’t have to be like that, why don’t you come with me to my hometown of Shardis?” It is peaceful there and you will find good friends and merry times.” Zale looked at her with his hard eyes.
“I would dearly like to do so…but my skills require me to help the world, I cannot waste them away in peace. If I cannot find happiness, then at least I can give and preserve it,” he said. He walked away then, leaving Selena baffled and somewhat awed.
The End…or is it?
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Final Chapter: From the Ashes
Final Chapter: From the Ashes
Not all is what it seems to be. In the morning after that fateful battle, the ashes of the demon/drow flared and rose up in an inferno. As the flames churned a familiar form appeared. Arrkmed’s body came into being again, although still dramatically warped. “What? How?” he asked aloud.
“I AM A DEMON, I HAVE SET CERTAIN PRECAUTIONS AGAISNT DEATH, MORTAL,” responded the demon in his mind.
“Ah, very good,” said Arrkmed. He looked around. “Blast! Looks like all the Shadokin warriors and the mercenaries were slaughtered alike.”
“NOT SO,” replied the demon. “THERE ARE ONLY FOUR BODIES OF THE MERCENARIES, WHILST THERE WERE SIX OF THE PATHETIC FOOLS. IF I AM NOT MISTAKEN, IT APPEARS IT WAS THE SKILLED DROW SWORDSMAN AND THE ELF MAIDEN WHO HATH ESCAPED THIS GRAVEYARD.”
“That accursed Zale! Such talent dragged down by a sense of values...it makes me sick! That fool drow is wasting his talents with his moral beliefs, just think of the heights he could attain if he fully applied himself. I will find him and cut him down for destroying my last vestiges of ascension in this sun-bleached land!” he shouted.
“GOOD, GOOD, WE SHALL MAKE HIM SUFFER. BUT HE IS POWERFUL, EVEN WITH MY DEMONIC POWERS WE MAY NOT BE ABLE TO DEFEAT HIM. I WILL REQUIRE PRACTICE TO BECOME MORE ACCUSTOMED TO YOUR FORM…HMMM. AH YES, WE SHALL GO AFTER THE ELF GIRL FIRST, AFTER DEFEATING HER AND ANY PITIABLE ELF FRIENDS OF HERS WE SHOULD BE STRONG ENOUGH TO DESTROY ZALE. MAKE HASTE QUICKLY, FOR EVERY MOMENT IS ANOTHER OPPURTUNITY LOST!” the demon commanded. Arrkmed quickly left the broken battleground and made his way onward with a new fire in his eyes, and a new goal to strive for. Little did he know, however, that the demon Hazadriel had far greater designs in motion than simple vengeance…
Book 2
City of Evil
Prologue
Selena Starbough gazed up at the beaming sun with a smile as she relaxed in her homeland paradise, the elven town of Shardis. Her personal glade was warm and peaceful in the streaming sunlight. It was a beautiful day and she had been basking in the sun. She decided to go for another one of her many walks among the forest that was her home. She walked lightly with her spirits high as she sniffed flowers and gazed upon innocent creatures of the forest going scurrying about. She came to another glade, this one belonging to a fellow elf named Galdir. He was not home at the moment so she decided to continue her walk.
After another few moments she came to a wonderful field of flowers that she stopped to admire. As she bent over to see them better a cloud, seemingly out of nowhere, moved and blocked the sun. Suddenly the flowers beneath her slowly withered and died before her eyes. Selena immediately began to feel uneasy as she sensed the presence of something wholly wrong and unholy behind her. She unsheathed the dagger in her boot and turned around quickly.
Standing before her was a sinister being. He was very tall and slender like an elf. His body was humanoid, but there all resemblance to anything human ceased. His body was black, not dark like the skin of a drow, but black as coals with an ashen texture. All over his body were gleaming ornate patterns and runic symbols that emanated an orange glow every few milliseconds. He had vicious-looking claws on his hands and feet. From the small of his back somewhere was a tail that was lined with randomly placed spikes and ended in a cruel spike as long as a sword. Two featherless wings were folded upon his back. He was bald, sort of. In place of hair were writhing flames that licked upward from his head. His eyes too were fiery and the air around him shimmered from the immense heat radiating from his body. He emanated a precise aura of evil and forbidding, which was intensified as he grinned at her surprised expression. He made no moves, simply standing there grinning evilly. Selena recognized him somehow…then it dawned on her. It was the drow, Arrkmed, whom had been in the drow organization, the Shadokin! Or at least, it had been. For the creature standing before her now was very different from the Arrkmed she had witnessed in battle, it was much more demonic and only the thing’s face and form left behind any inkling of Arrkmed.
“Heh, took me awhile to find you gorgeous. What a pity that I’ll have to kill you.” He frowned in mock sadness, and then let out a humorless chuckle. Selena backed up a step and readied her dagger. At this the creature let out a sinister cackle, saying “Hah what are you gonna do, slice me open with that puny little butter knife? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got about 10 butcher’s knives right here, heheheheh.” He held up both hands extending his slender claws. Still Selena said nothing, for her mind was racing. If she made a run for it could she make it to safety before he took her? Obviously she could not hope to kill this thing with a simple knife. She decided to try and stall him in the hopes that one of her elf brethren might stumble upon them and save her.
“Why have you befouled this place with your presence? What do you want?” she asked.
“You helped to destroy the Shadokin. While I had no warm feelings towards my comrades or remorse at their deaths, the Shadokin would have been a very nice organization for which to better my ascension into this world. You helped destroyed them, and thus you helped to radically slow my rise to power. And for that you shall die!!” he said, slashing a claw through the air dramatically.
“I don’t understand, what do you mean by “ascension”?
“Foolish girl, it would take too long to explain, even if I had the desire to.”
“But-
“ENOUGH TALK! Die now mortal weakling!!” he roared, launching himself at Selena. Selena was able to bring up her dagger, which became impaled into the fiend’s shoulder as he landed upon her. It did nothing though, for the blade melted away as soon as it went into his flesh. There was nothing Selena could do against the fiend, without armor and weapons. It was over in a matter of seconds. Immediately the fiend began tearing and biting into Selena…eating her flesh. Suddenly footsteps could be heard close by. Galdir had just arrived home and came to investigate the mysterious blight he had seen trailing past his glade. As he stepped up behind the fiend and Selena’s body, he gasped in horror at what the fiend was doing and was frozen in shock.
“Y-You monster!” he finally yelled. “I know not what you are, nor who you are, but you shall die by my hand nonetheless!” He drew an arrow out and fitted it into his bow. The creature was still ignoring him. He fired his arrow. It whooshed towards the fiend and hit him in the back, or almost. So great was his fiery aura that the arrow burned away just centimeters away from his skin. Galdir was surprised, but recovered quickly. The fiend now decided to turn around and face this new foe. Just as it was preparing to spring, Galdir drew an exploding arrow and fired at the creature. Though the tip of the arrow could never have reached the fiend’s skin, it didn’t need to. As soon as it came into contact with the fiery aura it set fire and exploded right in the fiend’s face. It howled and disappeared behind the smoke. Galdir shot another arrow, then another and many more in rapid succession. Explosions rocked the cloudy area.
If Galdir had been looking up he would have noticed that the fiend had taken to its wings high, high above the ground. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t see the careening fiend until it was too late and it struck down upon him like a lightning bolt, ripping with its talons and tearing with its claws until the elf resembled nothing more than a bloody rag doll. Its hunger sated, the creature left the body-strewn flower bed without further incident and went along its way. It wasn’t ‘til later that day that an elven patrol found the bodies and the whole of Shardis grieved for days on end.
Chapter one: the Gringo Mercenaries
Zale Gringo was currently residing within a tavern named “The Drunken Dragon” which was made especially for mercenaries and assassins, and welcomed only those types. It was a perfect place for mercenary companies and loners alike. Detailed wanted lists from countries all over Faerun were posted on boards throughout the tavern which were constantly updated and revised. The place was a two-story building, the first floor’s purpose being refreshments and relaxation, while the second floor was used purely for mercenary business and shady dealings. Zale and his company of mercenaries, the Gringo mercenaries, were loitering around the hazy first floor of the Drunken Dragon resting up and conversing amongst themselves. Zale himself was engaged in steady conversation with 3 of his company, Alden Bevel, Jack Gulo, and a formidable woman who was simply known as Krista.
“I’m not so sure about this Zale, it seems like a pretty dangerous job, even for us,” said Jack. Jack was a human knight who was devoted to honor and chivalry, an odd set of standards for a mercenary. He had been skeptical of Zale when he first joined his mercenary company, but after getting to know the noble dark elf, he had quickly developed a great liking towards Zale. He had moderately long blonde hair that reached his ears and avidly blue eyes.
“Are you out of your mind?! The sum of gold being offered for this mission is too great to pass up. And even better yet, there’s no competition for this mission because no one else is taking it!” responded Alden. Alden Bevel was a powerful and intelligent man of noble lineage. For several years he had contended to teach young sorcerers all he knew at the capital city of his homeland Lengrad. After 7 years of this he found his life was stagnant and he felt like it was missing something. When he could no longer take the boredom and the emptiness he resigned at Lengrad Magical Academy and set off for some adventure. He soon found that life as a mercenary was quite hard and very lonely. Only when he joined the now-famous Gringo mercenaries did he begin to feel content with his life. Although he was often snide and imperious, Zale appreciated his knowledge and skill of the arcane arts. He had short black hair and sharp green eyes.
“You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree. We’ve taken on plenty of tough missions and I think we can take on a big one like this,” interjected Krista. “This is the kind of mission that could make us or break us, and besides I’m a vampire killer, so this’ll be my specialty.” Krista was a very mysterious woman whom had come into the gringo mercenaries in a very odd way.
Khas Thael-Dun, another of the Gringo mercenaries was a notable dark elf assassin. However, he was also a vampire. Despite this fact he was never a danger to the company and kept his dark secret to himself. One day as they were taking a break between jobs at this very tavern, a dark and wild woman had barged in and assaulted Khas. Khas was nearly skewered by her silver sword and would have surely perished if he had not been in the company of the Gringo mercenaries. Krista, however formidable, was no match for an entire party of mercenaries. Zale let her live, but under the conditions that she was to serve in his company for one whole year. By the time a year had passed Krista had become a vital part of the Gringo mercenaries and had made up with MOST of the roguish band.
“Even so, I don’t like it. I think a mercenary company should always put its safety above all els-” Jack began to argue.
“Pah! What kind of philosophy is that?!” said Alden as he interrupted Jack. “Any real mercenary knows it’s the gold that counts, and to always look out for number one!” Jack became angry and was about to retort before Zale stopped him.
“Jack makes an excellent point Alden. I for one always put my crew’s safety first. But even so Jack I must agree with Alden and Krista, for this mission is not just one of gold but of virtue as well. The motto of the Gringo mercenaries had and always shall be “When the innocent cry out, we shall aid them no matter the cost.”
“Don’t you mean for a CERTAIN cost?” said Alden, snickering. Zale grinned despite himself.
“Well yes I admit we do ask for payment but nonetheless there are innocent townsfolk in danger and we must aid them, Jack.” Jack looked like he was still unconvinced but knew better than to push his Mercenary captain.
“Khas, Valandil, Faine, Lune? What are your thoughts on this issue?” asked Zale of his remaining mercenaries, who had each seemed caught up in his/her own thoughts. Valandil answered first.
“Well if there’s enough gold for this mission you know I’m in.” Valandil was a half elf, and a surprisingly stocky one at that. His powerful human characteristics combined with his elf knack for a bow and arrow to make him a superb archer, one of the best in all of Faerun. That, of course, was why Zale had bothered to seek him out and recruit him. He was less prophetic and dramatic than pure elves and had a thirst for gold and glory that could rival Alden’s. His hair was pure blonde, like that of most elves.
“I do not like the sound of this mission and think it would be best to leave it alone,” said Lune meekly. Zale met her eyes and she suddenly looked at her feet. “Of course, if our captain wishes it I will gladly participate in this mission.” Some of the mercenaries exchanged knowing glances and stifled snickers. It was quite obvious that the moon-elf Lune had a crush on Zale. Nobody had ever made much comment on it, but it was there all the same. Zale, however seemed to ignore it and treat Lune the same as the rest of the mercenaries. Lune was a moon-elf sorceress of some skill. She had come to the Gringo mercenaries after associating with them on a mission taken on by multiple mercenary companies. She had heard of the famous Gringo mercenaries and wanted to leave her unsatisfying and small mercenary company, the Elven Brigade. Zale had told her that if she proved useful enough then he would let her stay. She had proven herself to be a necessary element for their company as her healing spells were a great boon to the then mage-less Gringo mercenaries. She had saved Zale himself from certain death on several occasions with her art for healing magic. She had deep brown eyes that made her seem sorrowful all the time and long straight purple hair, like the rest of her Moon elf kin.
“I’m not too keen on this mission either, it seems too dangerous and we don’t even any detailed information on it, other than what the mission listings have. It would take no small amount of gold to prepare for this mission as well.” Faine Feli-San was a pure elf woman who had once been a great commander of an army in some elven kingdom. She was very intelligent and led her troops to many victories against orcs, goblins and even dark elves. When her country decided to go to war against dwarves, Faine did not like it because she felt that dwarves (for all their differences and prejudices) were not evil beings and should stay their allies. She pleaded with her leaders to not go to war against the hated dwarves but they refused. Faine had always had pride in her country and her heritage but she forsook all of that and resigned from her position as commander. She just couldn’t bring herself to fight a war that was unjust. When it came down to it Faine was a much better tactician and planner than she was at fighting in battle. This was her key position in the Gringo mercenaries, she helped to organize the items, weapons, and armor they required, the battle plans before each mission, and the pay of the mercenaries. However, she was a good shot with a bow and lent her assistance in battle as well. She had rather plain features and medium length brown hair which extended just below her eyes.
“I will go on this mission gladly, no matter the gold or the price,” spoke the normally quiet Khas. Khas was an intimidating figure, with dark jet black hair and an assassin’s cloak. Within his surprisingly voluminous cloak were many concealed throwing knives, which Khas used as distance weapons for long-range enemies.
Khas Thael-Dun
His primary weapons were two wickedly curved daggers which he used in combat and for assassinations. These hung at his waist. The reason he was intimidating was because he was a dark elf, and a vampire as well. His pupils were a dusty red, the sure sign of vampirism. They had a steely strength behind them which made few men dare to peer at Khas and braver men quail under his gaze. Khas was an unlucky soul. For being both drow and vampire, two races hated and despised by just about everyone, he was often besieged with assassination attempts, all of which had, obviously, failed so far. His pure black hair hung in tatters over his forehead, nearly obscuring his eyes. The lower portion of his dark-skinned face was hidden behind a dark red veil and a hood was drawn about his head casting his face into shadow, so that only the gleaming red eyes were visible most of the time. He and Krista were the most notable of all Zale’s mercenaries. Khas only spoke when necessary and brooded constantly. His past was shrouded in mystery, as was his relationship with Zale.
For Zale and Khas showed an obvious deep respect for each other, as well as trust. Nobody but he and Zale knew the true details of Khas’ enlistment into the Gringo mercenaries, but rumors stated that Zale had attempted to kill Khas on a mission, but unable to defeat the dark assassin was so impressed that he asked Khas to join the Gringo mercenaries. Another rumor had it that Zale had tracked down Khas specifically because of his dark elf heritage and got him to join the Gringo mercenaries. But those are only two of the many tales about Khas Thael’Dun. The most interesting of which held that Khas had come to the surface world as a lone drow, much like the members of the Shadokin and begun his life as a mercenary. He had been smart enough not to draw much attention to his drow nature and to leave the surface dwellers alone. However, the rumor states that somehow Khas was bitten by a vampire, and he was unable to control his newly found hunger for blood. Khas had felt no remorse but as the killing continued he found himself in danger of assassinations. Oddly enough, his killing sprees had ended at just about the same time he became the first of Zale’s Gringo mercenaries. Next to Zale he was the most powerful member of the Gringo mercenaries.
Krista was also a notable individual, for she was a demon huntress and a vampire huntress. She was quite gothic looking, with pale skin and black clothing/armor. Her flamboyant long red hair clashed violently with her pale skin and gothic attire. She had a number of sinister looking tattoos and even a dark cape. Despite her outer appearance, Krista was not dark or evil in the least. Her entire family had been ravaged by vampires one day when she was at school. When she had returned home with her older sister a bloodbath in the living room was waiting to greet them. Shocked at the blood stains on the wall, she and her sister were too aghast to even move or think. Suddenly her vampire-turned parents had burst from nowhere and set upon their daughters as if they were nothing to them. Krista’s reflexes saved her as her mother lunged at her. Being closest to the door, she had leapt for it and run outside, only looking back to see if her sister was following. However, her sister had not been as fortunate as Krista. Although she was able to dodge her murderous father as soon as Krista had fled she was caught between him and her mother. Whether she died or lived to become a vampire, Krista never found out.
As an adult Krista had not forgotten the terrible things vampires had done to her family and she had trained under a powerful swordsman who had adopted her after hearing of the incident. Krista learned how to fight, and well at that, from the swordsman. She honed her skills in solitude during her first years as an ordinary mercenary, only deciding to hunt vampires and other demonic creatures after finding a powerful silver sword specifically designed to kill vampires but which was also enchanted with holy powers, giving it an edge against demons as well. Although her skills were powerful, a sword such as this was required to hunt down such mighty creatures and demons and vampires.
“I say we put it to a vote whether or not we go on this mission. However, since I am the captain of this mercenary company my vote shall count twice. Right then, who is for not taking this mission?” spoke Zale.
Jack and Faine both raised their hands. Then, after a heavy glare from Faine, Lune reluctantly raised her hand as well.
“And those for the mission?” asked Zale.
Zale, Alden, Krista, Khas, and Valandil all raised their hands.
“Well then that settles it, we go. And if anyone still has complaints they can leave or quit their grumbling and get on with it.” Jack looked angry but said nothing, and Faine sighed in resignation.
“Good then, lets get some rest and then tomorrow we can begin preparations for the mission. I’ll go inform the barkeep that we’re taking the mission and set everything up.” With that Zale left for the bar and the Gringo mercenaries dispersed, some going to bed and others on business of their own. Khas and Krista remained though.
“You must be excited about this mission, huh? After all you’ll be able to see one of your own kind,” said Krista with a leer. Khas glared at her.
“Hmph, what makes you think I’d be excited to see a vampire? Just because I am one doesn’t mean I’m anything like them. They are pathetic, dependant creatures, and I am not at all comparable to them.” he replied.
“Oh is that so?” Krista retorted. “So I guess you were a murderous scumbag before you were turned, is that it? And yes you are just as pathetic as they are! Not even you can evade the constant thirst for blood. I know about the blood packets Zale arranges for you. Listen, just because you’ve earned Zale’s trust doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re still a filthy being, you got that?” To her surprise, however, Khas flashed a rare smile.
“Heh, your taunts and insults mean nothing to me. I am far above that. No, I don’t deny that I killed without remorse throughout my life, and I still feel no remorse. But you are ignorant; I control my hunger with the blood packets Zale so thoughtfully supplies me. I am not a slave to it; I do not have sudden killing sprees where I cannot control myself. That is all in the past.”
“I knew it, but I can’t believe it. How could Zale have recruited such a sick being as you? I suppose you don’t even regret the innocent you killed in one of your enraged feedings! I suggest you watch yourself, vampire, because I’ll be watching you.” With that Krista stalked away from the corner and out the door. Khas simply sat there, contemplating the woman’s words and intentions. Zale, having finished making the necessary arrangements with the barkeep, returned to the corner where Khas was brooding.
“I heard your talk with Krista, don’t worry I’ll try and smooth things over with her tomorrow,” said Zale.
“Pah don’t even bother. Insolent fools like her don’t faze me. She’s not stupid enough to try and kill me, at least as long as I’m part of your company,” replied Khas. Zale gave him a piercing stare.
“Did you mean what you said, about no remorse for those you killed?” asked Zale. For the first time Zale had ever seen a look of worry crossed Khas’ face. But only for a second.
“Please Zale must we converse about this subject again? I thought I made it clear to you that while I shall strive to control my killing rages and to avoid unnecessary deaths I do not regret any deaths I have caused.” Seeing a look of concern and anger on Zale’s face he quickly added. “But I do not wish to kill any innocents like I have in the past. You know that my loyalty lies with you, Zale, and that I shall only kill as you see fit.” Zale continued to stare at him for a moment or so then said,
“Khas, I recruited you because I wanted a fellow dark elf in my company and wished to help bring another of my kind to the Light-don’t roll your eyes at me! I had hoped that by now you would have learned that goodness and righteousness are not such fables as the drow culture makes them out to be and that killing is wrong. Although you say you desire no more killing of the innocent it is plain to me that you still do not understand why killing is wrong and are simply saying that to put me at ease!”
“What do you want of me?!” snapped Khas. “I am a dark elf and a vampire. By all standards I should be a murderous beast but here I am,” Khas quickly took a second to regain his calm composure, “here I am a calm and perfectly harmless individual. I cannot help it that I still show no feelings over killing. You did not grow up amongst the tenets of drow society, and though you know of them you have NO idea what it is like to have them ground into your mind for over a hundred years.”
“Just promise me,” said Zale, “that you’ll try to see my point, try harder to understand the sanctity of life and the evil in murder. Alright?” Khas stared at Zale hard for a moment then spoke saying,
“Fine, but about Krista. Just how did she find out about the blood vials you get for me? You swore to me that you would keep that a secret between just us!”
“I didn’t say a word to her so just calm down! She probably spied on you since you’re a vampire and saw me giving them to you or something. Don’t worry though I promise I’ll talk to her and make sure the others don’t give you a rough time about it. In the meantime get some sleep.”
“Vampires are NOCTURNAL creatures but thanks anyway,” said Khas not looking thankful in the least.
“Well whatever I’m going to bed see you in the morning,” Zale said as he got up and left. Khas stayed in that spot for a long time afterwards pondering many things. Eventually he got up and left the pub, disappearing into the night.
Chapter two: A Twist of Fate
The next day was crisp and partially cloudy…yes I know I sound like a weatherman in that sentence so sue me. Zale awoke early feeling refreshed and ready for the upcoming mission. He journeyed to the Drunken Dragon from the inn he had slept at and was surprised to see Jack and Faine there before him, conversing amongst themselves. He was always the first to be at their meeting spots, and Jack was always running late. Yet here he was early.
“Hey guys, any reason you’re up so early?” asked Zale as he sat down with them.
“Couldn’t sleep,” replied Jack groggily.
“I’m just eager to get the preparations finished and get this mission over with,” said Faine.
“Well,” said Zale, looking around, “it doesn’t look like the others will be here for awhile. I might as well order us some drinks.” He went to the bar and ordered a round of alcoholic beverages. As the three mercenaries sat around, sipping their drinks, an awkward silence began to settle in.
“Sooooo…what kind of preparations do we need, specifically?” asked Jack breaking the silence. Zale was about to answer but Faine cut him off saying,
“Well Zale made the necessary arrangements for the mission entailments such as time and payments so that’s settled. I’m going to double check the payments with the owner of the Drunken Dragon and run everything by our personal bankers.” The Gringo mercenaries was one of several large mercenary guilds that had expanded beyond simple things such as mercenaries and assassins, but had also decided to enlist other useful persons such as bankers, financiers, weapon smiths, spies, and merchants. The advantages to having these positions in a mercenary company were numerous. A banker could bank the company’s funds so as to prevent money loss and theft. A weapon smith could provide custom weapons and armor for his mercenary company. Spies could act as scouts for mission territory, get secret information about a mission before other mercenary guilds and so on and so forth. Of course this required great amounts of money, so only the biggest and richest mercenary guilds had these special members. “Some of us will have to visit the local armory to rent some silver weapons temporarily for this mission. I’ll also have to have our spy Durnham scout the area where this mission is taking place and report to us ASAP. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of mostly everything. Everyone else just needs to get his or her specific weapons of silver and make any other personal preparations for the mission.” She took a deep breath, having said so much. Zale grinned.
“I see you have everything planned out, as usual. Since it’ll be about a week before we can set off I’d like you to wait until then to give everyone the mission briefing,” he said. They talked some more about trivial things and eventually the rest of the Gringo mercenaries arrived.
“Well crew since we’re going to be dealing a powerful vampire in this mission those of us who use weapons that aren’t enchanted will need to go to the local armory to outfit yourselves with silver weapons of your liking. You can keep your silver weapons after the mission or give them to our merchant who can sell them on the market and give some of the profits back to you. It might take awhile for our spy to scout out the territory and get back to us so find yourselves something to do in the meantime and I’ll contact you for another meeting whenever our spy gets back to me.”
With that the Gringo mercenaries went their separate ways, Jack, Valandil, and Faine all left for the town armory to buy silver weapons while Khas slipped away to do whatever it is a vampire drow does in his spare time. Krista already had a weapon so she stayed at the tavern and ordered herself a drink at the bar. Alden and Lune used spells instead of weapons so they went together to purchase spell components and research spells that would be useful against creatures of the night. Zale decided to go up to the bar and join Krista.
“A beer please,” he said to the barkeep and sitting next to Krista. She was downing her mug quite heartily. “I see you’re no stranger to liquor,” Zale commented.
She grinned and said “You got that right, captain,” she said laying some heavy sarcasm into the last word. Zale narrowed his eyes and frowned in mock severity.
“Hey as your mercenary captain I DEMAND the proper respect! After all I do have control over your wages…” he said jokingly.
“Hey! You know I’m the second best mercenary on your team so I could just threaten to leave.” She retorted with a wink.
“Hah good luck finding a better mercenary guild than the Gringos,” he said. “But on a serious note I need to talk to you about Khas.” Her eyes hardened even at the name of Khas. Before she could enter into a tirade against him and all vampires and how she was going to put each and every one of them through her own personal meatgrinder (herself) Zale cut her off. “I know how much you loathe vampires Krista but Khas has shown nothing to earn such hatred from you. I admit he is more callous and cold-hearted than everyone else but I think that eventually he’ll come around and the old conditioning of dark elf society will fade away.” Krista didn’t say anything so he continued. “He is a huge asset to our company and if I see you threatening or harassing him at all there will be consequences. Do I make myself clear?”
“Very sir, but you never said anything about killing him…” she said with a giggle and a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Krista, this isn’t a joke, a mercenary company needs trust and cooperation in order to functio-” Krista spoke suddenly cutting him off.
“When did I say it was a joke Zale? I have sworn to kill all vampires and I mean to try my damndest. I owe my family and all the others who have fallen at the hands of vampires no less than that. For now I’ll leave him be only because I wish to remain a member of your mercenary guild but I cannot grant you that I will not try to kill him one day in the future. And another thing, how could you put so much trust in the vile creature? He admits himself that he has felt and still feels the evil urges of vampirism. I do not know about the person Khas Thael’Dun but I do know the vampire. It is the same with every vampire; the vampirism takes over and instills the person with evil! Even the daintiest of girls I have seen dripping with blood after being turned Zale!”
“Krista that’s enough! I know you have much more knowledge on vampires than me but I still have faith in Khas, and as the leader of the Gringo mercenaries I request that you do as well.”
Krista looked angry but then surprisingly burst into tears. Zale had never seen the hard woman show an inkling of tenderness or weakness and was quite taken aback. She got up and ran from the bar, tears still etching milky trails down her face. For a few moments Zale was too surprised to even move. Then he sighed and ordered another drink. He supposed all this talk of vampires had brought back ancient memories of her family and the dark fate that had ripped her loved ones away from her.
Meanwhile Krista just kept running as if she could sprint ahead of the saddening memories reaching out from her past. She kept running even after entering a forest outside of the town. Finally she calmed down enough to slow to a walk and just let it all out. She sobbed like a little schoolgirl, glad that nobody could see her in such a state. After what seemed like ages the tide of tears stopped and she was herself again. She sniffed and ran a hand over her eyes. Needing to relax and clear her mind she strode deeper into the forest along a seldom trod path. Above the sky had darkened to a cloudy gray and a light drizzle had begun. The air remained warm and the rain felt good on Krista’s face.
She came to a clearing and stopped for a moment to ponder a great deal of things. Finally she sighed, rubbed her hands over her face and started back for the town. Just as she was about to leave the clearing she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. She looked to her left and saw on the edge of the clearing a figure just kneeling there in upon one knee. Perhaps it was that she was overcome with her sudden fit of emotion, but she didn’t think to draw her enchanted rapier, Shadowbane, or to even proceed with more caution. Instead she walked right up to the figure until she was directly behind it. Still it remained motionless and ignored her presence. There were bloodstains on the ground nearby. Intrigued, she laid her right hand upon its shoulder and gave it a gentle shake, saying,
“Hello? Are you alright?” What happened next was too fast for anyone to have reacted to. In one fluid motion the figure rose from its kneeled position and simultaneously lunged at Krista’s right arm with an animalistic snarl and bit deep into it, drawing blood. Krista was so taken aback she didn’t even have time to flinch. As the initial shock wore off her reflexes kicked in. She locked the figure’s neck in a viselike grip with her left hand, and then as the lack of air forced it to stop biting her she kicked it hard in the chest sending it reeling backwards. She put her left hand over the bite wound and was about to draw her sword when she recognized her attacker.
“Khas?! Is that you?” she asked. He snarled at her once again, looking enraged and as if he were about to resume his attack. Then gradually his features relaxed as if from some inner sanctum of his soul and he regained his awareness and his usual calm demeanor. And yet there was a pained and exhausted look upon his face, like he had just fought the hardest battle of his life and barely won. And then as he looked upon her and recognized her, his features were first embarrassed and then horrified as he saw the bite wound and realized what must have happened.
“Oh no…Krista I’m so sorry. Truly I am sorry for this. I beg of you hear me out,” he said to her in a pleading voice. Krista had felt hot fiery anger rising up within her yet as she looked into his face again it quickly dwindled. For although he was truly a cold-hearted and merciless individual, no such qualities shone in his face at the moment. Instead he had the look of a poor child who had done wrong and his eyes were pathetic in their misery. But that was not at all that kept her rising temper in check. For as the full impact of what had just happened hit her, a cold fear began to rise within her. She had become tainted, turned into that which she had strove all her life to hunt and destroy; a vampire, a creature of the night. As Khas started to explain himself to her, her eyes began to reflect the same misery in his.
“You see I came out here to relax and do some contemplation when I suddenly felt the need to feed. But when I reached for a blood vial I found to my horror that I had none left in my cloak and all my reserves were left at the inn. Believe me, I tried to fight it off I used up every fiber of my will, but it was no use,” he said. “It never is,” he added in bitterness. “You must have come upon me just as it had taken over for otherwise I would have come upon the town to feed. Yet again I’m sorry, I may not care much about the sanctity of life but I did not wish my fate upon anyone else.”
“What’s going to happen to me?” asked Krista, her voice soaked with fear and dread. Already she could feel the slightest, barest hint of vampirism stirring within the depths of her soul. It was faint and almost impossible to detect now, but she knew that wouldn’t last.
“I’m not sure how the disease works individually. I was not fully turned until 3 days after being bitten but who knows how much longer or shorter it could take for you? At any rate we should both get some blood vials as soon as possible. Normally once taken by bloodlust I can’t return to normal until I have drank blood but your appearance somehow helped me to knock it aside, for now. Hmmmm…interesting.” He looked to be deep in thought for a few moments. Then he shrugged. “Well I’ve never been disturbed during a feeding so perhaps there’s nothing more to it. There’s one more thing, Zale cannot know about this. It would highly endanger my status as a mercenary and it would totally undermine his trust in me. Can I trust you to keep it a secret?” Krista nodded earnestly. Khas was taken aback by her immediate and eager willingness to not tell this to Zale. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Seeing this Krista explained saying,
“After all the things I said to Zale about hating vampires and that they are undoubtedly evil things I don’t think I could face him being one now. It’s strange, I would have thought I’d have an unquenchable rage if you, or any vampire, turned me into my worst enemy. And yet I feel no hatred towards you now, in fact it seems all my previous anger at you has also dissolved. I…I only feel gratitude for you helping me to overcome this.” She said, her eyes losing their misery and refilling with a strange light. Khas stared at her, unsure of what to say. Finally he said,
“Well I could do no less than help someone whom I had done such a wrong to. I above anyone else hate this disease and I feel a strange emotion for you now that I have never felt before…sympathy.” They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment and suddenly it became awkward. “I suppose we should head back to the inn and take my blood vials before my hunger takes over again.”
“Will I really need blood? After all I’m just turned and it’s barely even taken hold of me,” said Krista. Khas shook his head like a knowing father would at an inexperienced child.
“So too did I think that I would not need blood until the vampirism took full effect. However it seems that the hunger begins to build up as soon as you are bitten, and you don’t notice until it’s too late and takes over you completely during a feeding frenzy. That is probably why most vampires turn evil or become filled with madness. They are taken over by the hunger completely and the vampirism is able to destroy whatever values and morals they had.” As he talked more about vampirism his voice took on a steadily bitterer tone.
“But if that is true then why did you come back to yourself after your first feeding and retain your personality?” asked Krista with a questioning look on her face. Khas smiled and shrugged.
“I truly don’t know. Perhaps it is because I was already so evil and unjust that there was little for the vampirism to do. Or it could be because I was a drow; perhaps other races have different levels of resistance to the disease. All I know is that once Zale found me and helped me with blood vials I was able to overcome the hunger by taking several blood vials throughout the week. Hopefully if you start taking blood vials you won’t be overcome by the disease.” Krista simply nodded.
In truth Khas really did not know how he hadn’t been turned into a blood thirsty creature or lost his beliefs and personality. Khas was wrong in his speculations. Just about every race was entirely susceptible to vampirism. Like he said, untreated vampirism could take over a person and twist them into an individual that hardly a shadow of its former self. This is because vampirism not only controls with hunger and bloodlust but also magnifies the worst traits of an individual, such as lust, anger,violence, etc. Therefore even the purest virgin could slaughter countless innocents if turned into a vampire. However, if an individual contained an incredibly powerful willpower they could theoretically be able to fight off the disease and remain their normal self in-between feedings. This is undoubtedly what happened to Khas.
Chapter three: A Meeting in Darkness
Meanwhile at a dark castle overlooking the peaceful town of Talronne an interesting meeting was taking place. In one of the deepest chambers of the castle there stood two powerful figures bathed in crimson light. One was a fiery deformed creature who was obviously part demon and the other a man with eyes which were wholly blood-red with darkly crimson pupils. He was impassive yet emanated a powerful sense of confidence and power. The demon beside him seemed pleased and was talking in earnest to the crimson-eyed man.
“So they’ve taken the mission? Excellent. I need not the others, only the one. You may do with the rest as you see fit Kassad.” Kassad gave the demon an imperious stare.
“I have done as you asked and now it is time you explained yourself Hazadriel. I have already drawn unneeded attention to myself and possible peril along with it. Although we both know how powerful I am I have learned over my many, many, many hundreds of years that caution is always the best course. Now quickly tell me how any of this is going to benefit me,” He said fixing Hazadriel with a stern glare. Hazadriel appeared quite nonchalant though, he grinned even.
“Hahahaha! I respect your attempt to intimidate me Kassad but you are no threat to me and it is useless. Do not worry though; I would like to consider you an ally in the future so I will compensate you for this when I have risen in power on this world.” For all his high talk, however, Kassad didn’t seem very convinced by Hazadriel’s words.
“You are very presumptuous demon. You will compensate me? After you have risen in power? I have become legendary by all means in my time here and you deign to think that you will ascend beyond me?!” he yelled seemingly angry. Hazadriel was not frightened in the least and flashed another toothy grin.
“Oh come off it Kassad. We both know full well how boring eternal life and legendary status can be. This little jaunt I’m pulling off is itself your compensation. A little excitement to alleviate the boredom which builds up in this dreary castle of yours. Now then, I want you to contact me as soon as they get here and then let everything unfold on its own.” For a second or so Kassad looked truly furious at the audacity of the demon. However he was right. Eternal life became very boring after the first few hundred years. Kassad had discovered countless ancient secrets, bested legendary heroes and monsters alike, and done pretty much everything there was to do. However he was not too discontent. He had an abnormally large amount of patience and preferred the stagnant life he was now leading to the unyielding nothingness of death. Besides, things were just starting to get interesting.
“Fine then, I’ll leave the one you want alone as long as you harm none of the others,” He finally said.
“Oh come now how do you expect me to get him alone? He’s not exactly going to be wandering the castle alone Kassad, he’s got a frigging mercenary company of his own!” cried out Hazadriel. Kassad’s gaze turned even stonier.
“You said you only needed the one and that is the one you shall get. I want the others and you will find a way to deliver them to me unharmed or I shall call off the whole thing!” A look of apprehension surprisingly crossed Hazadriel’s face.
“Fine then, but I can’t assure you they won’t get to you totally unharmed if they all run into me,” he replied.
“Just get them to me, alright? As long as they’re all in one piece I don’t really mind.”
“Well then I’ll see you later Kassad, it’s time for me to leave. My vision's going red from this blasted place.” Without another word the demon teleported away as a pillar of flame engulfed the spot he had been standing and then abruptly went out. Kassad stared loathingly at the spot. Ignorant wretch, this castle’s too fine for your presence anyway, he thought.
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Five days later the company had assembled in the Drunken Dragon once again. Well most of them anyway. The mercenaries were making light conversation as Zale waited impatiently for Jack to show up. Finally Jack came through the door, not even bothering to set a fast pace. Zale was a bit ticked off as this had gone on for too long. He rushed over to Jack so the others wouldn’t hear their conversation.
“Listen Jack, about you constantly being late-” He began.
“Oh I know I’m sorry man,” Jack said cutting him off. “I was chatting up some nice babes in this other tavern here and I totally lost track of the time. You understand where I’m coming from right?” he said giving Zale a mischievous look and elbowing him. Zale didn’t share the other man’s sentiment.
“Hey when you joined this guild you made a commitment. Being a Gringo mercenary means putting the company above your personal needs. I don’t care whether you’re banging whores all over the place in between missions but when I call a meeting you need to show up on time,” Zale wasn’t yelling at all but his voice was sterner than Jack was used to.
“Hey what gives Zale?” he asked. “C’mon I thought we were buddies, pals.” Zale sighed and shook his head to hide the smirk.
“Yes we are good friends Jack but as your mercenary captain I order you to show up on time from now on or you will be receiving serious payment cuts.” Zale clasped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “So anyways…tell me about these two women again?” he added and they both started laughing as they joined the rest of the mercenaries. As Zale cleared his throat the talk subsided and they turned their attention to him.
“Just a quick reminder to anyone stupid enough to forget what this mission is about. It is going to be taking place at the town of Talronne, a little village about 4 days away from here. The exact wording of the mission post reads as this;
“The village of Talronne is requesting help from any and all mercenaries to destroy a vampire which has recently taken to feeding upon our townspeople. A quarter of the payment (1,000,000 gold coins) will be given to whosoever takes the mission and that party will only receive full payment after the vampire has been slain. Our town lies in the northwest area of Faerun between the dwarven stronghold Cassok and the human city of Goland. You should be able to spot our town easily because of recent...events…further information will be given when you have arrived. –Mayor Handen.”
“We weren’t sure what to make of that sentence which stated we should be able to easily find the place until Durnham scouted out the territory. Apparently the village of Talronne and everything within a 2-mile radius of it has been plagued by an unusual redmist which blots out the sky. I’m not altogether sure just what that means yet but we’ll probably find out when we get there. It’ll be a 4-day journey on foot to the place and then we’ll take another day to rest up and draw up our battle plan. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” said Alden. “Are we sure that this town can actually pay up? You said yourself it’s just a ‘small’ town, what if they just bluff us into killing this vamp for them and then don’t have our dough?”
“Oh I’m sure they’re not stupid enough to try and bluff a mercenary clan. Although we Gringo mercenaries never condone such measures as threats and killings in order to receive extra payment there’s plenty of other ones that do,” answered Zale. “And to me it sounds like they’re pretty desperate to get rid of this vampy so they must be willing to pay a hefty sum. But in any case we’ll find out once we get there and I’ve already stated I wish to fulfill this mission no matter what our payment is.” Alden looked glum at this last statement but didn’t speak up again. “Well if we’re all prepared and ready to go then let’s set off. Any last errands to do?” The mercenaries shook their heads.
“Well let’s get moving, everyone grab your equipment and meet on the northeastern edge of the town.” Zale, Valandil, and Faine were already outfitted and had their packs on so they went to the edge of town to await the others. Alden left for an inn to grab his magical tomes and some other items, while Lune did the same. Khas and Krista had both been staying at the same inn over the past 3 days so they left together for their things. Ten minutes later the company had assembled and then set off for Talronne at a fast pace.
Chapter four: The Crimson Mist
After four days of uneventful traveling the Gringo mercenaries arrived on the fringe of Talronne. As they were walking a foul mist suddenly engulfed them. Some gasped in surprise and the entire party coughed for a minute or so before their lungs became used to the strange shadow stuff. The air tasted almost...coppery. It was a thick crimson sheen that blocked out the blue sky above and cast a dim red glow upon everything. There was little light that penetrated the mist which made everything seem murky and turned far-off objects into shadows.
“Hmm…interesting!” said Zale spritely. No one else made any comments so they continued on. As they came into the town the eerie mist made it seem forbidding and mysterious rather than calm and relaxed as a town should be. As they kept walking Zale began taking in his surroundings. He glanced at a silhouetted tree and for a fleeting moment thought he saw a corpse hanging from it, but when he took a closer look it was just an ordinary tree. And with that image had come a distant yet undeniably powerful sense of fear. And yet only a few moments later he saw a few dark shapes flitting along the outer edges of his vision. But when he whirled towards them they seemed to meld away into the shadows. Now Zale was definitely getting spooked.
They came to the town square and ventured into it. Suddenly an audible “blip!” sounded in Zale’s mind and a bloody mangled corpse appeared in the window of a nearby house. It was gone after a split second. The unexplainable and unreasonable fear was swelling within Zale so that he was shaking and could barely stop himself from just running off in panic into the darkness. They kept walking, when Zale heard another odd “blip!” and suddenly an image of a grotesque blood-stained face filled Zale’s vision, a face so horrible and shocking Zale gasped and nearly stumbled. And just as suddenly as it had appeared it was gone.
Zale had had enough. He turned to his companions to tell them of these ghastly visions. But his companions were not there at all. No, instead there were horrible figures in their places. Where Khas had been there stood a grinning figure with its hood thrown back, blood running in rivulets from its eyes and mouth laughing maniacally. He looked to Jack, only to see a bloody corpse shambling towards him, mouth agape and a hungry look in its eyes. Likewise everywhere he looked there were more ghouls and terrifying figures. Just as Zale was about to draw his blade upon these enemies something else caught his glance. It was a distant illumination, and its pure clarity was startling in the crimson darkness. Four figures came to them, one holding a bright lantern and the others having donned armor and holding swords tightly. As the pale light washed over Zale the visions ceased and his fear subsided a bit. The prominent-looking figure holding the lantern looked at them concernedly all for a moment and then spoke saying,
“Ahhhh, you must be mercenaries here to take on the mission our town posted?” Zale nodded, the dark fear inside him was beginning to grow again and he feared the visions would start back up. “Good, yes, very good. Please come with us to the town hall and out of this dreadful mist. Zale turned to see that his companions were actually still there, all of them looking very pale except for Khas who had an odd glint in his eyes. Gone were the monsters he had seen before. No, Zale reminded himself, those were just visions. But it was hard to shake the reality of those figures that had stood before him looking so tangible. Zale and the Gringo mercenaries followed the mayor and his guards down a large street to the city hall. After walking inside everyone visibly relaxed like a person will after finally finding the light switch in a dark room.
“Sir, the mission post said that we would receive further information upon arrival…” started Zale.
“Ah of course, I will explain all in due time but you must be weary from your journey?” Although Zale was eager to be done with the mission he had to agree that everyone could use a rest. Not waiting for an answer, the mayor requested a large feast for himself and the mercenaries. The food was prepared and delivered surprisingly fast and everyone dug in. Perhaps it was the presence of their employer or the creeping mist that lurked outside but whatever the case, nobody seemed eager to make conversation. Only the tinkling of silverware and the noises of eating were made during the meal. All the while the mayor was beaming.
“You cannot understand how happy we are to have received help finally. Been more ‘n two weeks since I sent the mission post and nobody had shown up yet. To tell the truth I was getting very worried. The situation right now is pretty grim,” said the mayor to Zale, whom he had correctly determined to be the leader of the mercenaries.
“Yes I’ve noticed how quiet it was when we arrived and that awful mist…what is it?” asked Zale.
“Well to be honest, nobody’s quite sure though we do know one thing. Whatever it is, it's sinister and it’s a bad idea to stay in the stuff for too long.”
“That would explain the reason why nobody was outside but what exactly occurs if you stay exposed to it for too long?”
“But you felt it yourself didn’t you?” Zale hesitated; he didn’t want to seem like a child afraid of the dark. After some deliberation he decided now was not the time to be prideful.
“Yes I had very disturbing visions and…and an implacable sense of fear that only grew stronger as we remained in the mist.”
“Well it’s a good thing we found you when we did, you all were staring wild eyed at each other, and I know for a fact that you were about to kill each other as well!” said the mayor. So Zale had not been the only one who was experiencing the horrors of the mist, and that gave him some solace. “Yah see the mist seems to do one of two things. From what we’ve seen we’ve gathered that it either scares the hell out of you the more you stay in it…or in rare cases it drives you to kill anything within sight, be it your mother, your brother, or one of your dearest friends. Both measures seem to have the same long term effect, insanity.
When the mist first arrived many of us didn’t like the looks of it and stayed inside mostly. But there were those who disregarded it and...children who found the town so much more curious and fun with some mist to obscure it. We found two children huddled on the outskirts of town sobbing and raving like lunatics. We had to drag them back by force but we couldn’t cure them. They lashed out in fear of anything so we...put them out of their misery. Likewise several villagers were found in various places hiding from unknown terrors and also driven insane. Two cases were…more disturbing. A third boy named Gabe came back home before we began the search for the other two. They had been playing hide and seek. Well after we found the others and attempted to cure them two mysterious things happened. For days Lilly and John Johansen didn’t come out of their house. Their son was, of course, Gabe. We ventured into the house only to find it filled with blood and gore. The parents had been brutally slaughtered and dragged throughout the house. We found the boy still hacking into them with an axe,” the mayor shuddered. “Couldn’t even try to cure him, he attacked us on the spot and we had no choice. Another such incident occurred with a grown man who murdered four families before he was found and put down. And yet that’s not even the worst of it.” Zale nearly spluttered into the drink he was sipping.
“You’re telling me there’s more that’s happened than such horrific incidents?” he asked.
“Aye. There's still at least 13 children and 30 adults...unaccounted for. And the vampire himself came down and attacked our villagers, turning nearly half our number into vampires. Didn’t seem interested in killing anyone, just biting ‘em a little. Well we didn’t know what to do, so many had already died but to let the tainted persons live would be foolish. We slew our own turned kinsmen so that they would not turn on us. It’s been three weeks since and there’s no telling when the vamp’s going to strike again. You must set out for his castle immediately and destroy him. It is my hope that the mist is some doing of the vampire’s. If you can kill him you can restore our village so that we might yet recover from this horrendous time in our history. Oh and before I forget, you should know that the disease is not entirely unstoppable. You see, if one is holding a torch or is surrounded by light by any other means it seems to repel the mist’s vile influence. Of course if you’re going to spend several hours in it you will probably need great amounts of light bathing you constantly.
“We’ll need to rest up,” spoke up Faine, business-like as usual. “Tonight we need a place to sleep. Do you have an inn or someplace else we might take shelter in?”
“Oh no, no you cannot dwell in any of the town buildings. It is far too unsafe…as I've said not all the villagers have been accounted for and there’s the possibility of the vampire attacking again. For the past 2 weeks we have been dwelling secretly in the hidden catacombs beneath the city. I am quite sure the vampire does not know of them and we are of course quite safe from the mist there. If you are, ah, finished with the meal…?” he asked, eyeing all the mercenaries. They all nodded, Valandil hastily grabbing an extra couple of turkey legs to finish as a snack before the table was cleared away. “Then please follow me to the entrance into the catacombs.” As they walked the mayor filled the silence with a nonstop stream of chatter about the town catacombs and the town’s history. He seemed very eager to talk as well as quite proficient at it. “Yes they really are quite ancient. Written in our oldest records are reports of this town once being a mighty military town surrounded by enemies. The town was attacked so many times that they finally built a mighty fortress in the center, now downgraded to our simple town hall obviously, and built a series of secret catacombs where the entire town could hide from it’s enemies in complete safety even if the town was entirely invaded. Quite marvelous really, just look at how useful it’s proven to be even after so much time. Ah, here we are.”
He stopped them at a very ordinary place by the wall. He took out a small magical wand and tapped the wall on a seemingly random spot. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then suddenly but un-dramatically a ruby shaped indentation appeared on the wall. The mayor nodded satisfactorily and reached down to the end of an amulet he was wearing. At the end of the amulet was a gleaming yellow ruby that he placed into the indentation. The very section of the wall sunk back a bit then turned so that the misplaced section was at a ninety degree angle to them. They sidled in, the mayor waiting behind them. He walked in last, grabbing the ruby as he did so. They felt the wall turn and slide back into place behind them. Torches lit the would-be dark passageways that stretched before them, and a staircase of stone seemed to spiral downwards forever. They eventually hit the ground floor and the mayor led them through a labyrinth full of bedraggled and morose looking townspeople.
Finally they came to an empty section where they could sleep. The mayor ordered several bundles of blankets and pillows for the mercenaries and bid them goodnight. However, Zale did not sleep well. He had several nightmares about being chased by ghostly figures through a labyrinth and unable to fight them. Whenever he awoke it seemed he could hear something whispering down the corridors and he thought he saw evil shapes flitting to and fro. But it was only his mind playing tricks on him. Eventually he fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 5 the Mission Begins
Zale woke up feeling dismal and un-rested, not the best state to be in on a mission. He got up and noticed the torches had been relit. He started to get up when he also noticed a stranger in the darkness. His heart gave an involuntary lurch, until he realized it was just Faine. He must have had a startled look on his face because she was eyeing him with concern.
Chapter 5 the Mission Begins
Zale woke up feeling dismal and un-rested, not the best state to be in on a mission. He got up and noticed the torches had been relit. He started to get up when he also noticed a stranger in the darkness. His heart gave an involuntary lurch, until he realized it was just Faine. He must have had a startled look on his face because she was eyeing him with concern.
“You alright Zale?” she asked skeptically.
“Yes, yes you just startled me that’s all. What are you doing up so early?” he replied.
“Well I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take watch in case the villagers or…anything else attempted to kill us in our sleep.” Zale felt a flush of anger at himself, why hadn’t he thought of that? All mercenaries knew better than to completely trust their contractors.
“Damn they could’ve cut our throats if it wasn't for you...I must be losing my touch,” he said bitterly. Faine shook her head and said wisely,
“Don’t worry about it Zale the only reason I even thought of it was because I couldn’t sleep. You obviously were affected by the mist and had other things on your mind. Everyone makes mistakes.” Zale was about to argue about his responsibilities as a clan captain but saw a look in Faine’s eyes that told him it would be no use.
“Well…did anything of interest happen?” he asked seriously.
“No of course not, I’m totally convinced these people dearly need our help. There’s no way they’d want to kill us. But it never hurts to be safe. Anyways I’ve got our battle scheme mapped out according to all our information and I’ll brief the others as soon as they’ve woken up. You should probably try to get more sleep, captain.”
“No I think I’ll wake the troops. Good to get an early start on a mission.” With that he woke up the rest of the mercenaries amid sleepy grumbles and much yawning. “Well since we’re going to embark for the castle Faine will give you your standard mission briefing,” he said to them. He then gestured to Faine that she could start.
“Well troops normally I give the entire mission but since Krista has the most experience with vampires I’m going to include her in this one,” she said curtly. “Krista if you would come up here beside me…?” she said beckoning towards Krista. Krista looked surprised but came up quickly. “Now then, we are facing a vampire who is obviously of some power and probably several other vampires as well. Now we all know that silver is one of their only weaknesses but I want Krista to give us her input on their other weaknesses and how to deal with them.” Krista stood there for a moment gathering her thoughts. Then she spoke softly saying,
“Yes vampires are mortally wounded by silver weapons, but they have other weaknesses as well. The one thing that will assuredly destroy a vampire in all its entirety is sunlight. No matter how strong a vampire is it will be utterly destroyed if sunlight is cast upon its body. Of course, that is of little use to us here. Due to the mist the sun seems to be blocked from reaching the town. But vampires have one last weakness and that is-”
“Garlic!!!” shouted Valandil holding onto and pointing at a garlic necklace he must have just recently put around his neck. Several of the others snickered, Khas rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. The whole company was used to Valandil’s superstition and belief in any and all wife’s tales such as this one. Krista rolled her eyes and continued talking.
“No not garlic. That is a common myth that is totally untrue.” Valandil simply shrugged and kept it on. “All vampires are also vulnerable to magic. Anything magical, such as an enchanted sword or a spell, can hurt a vampire. But of course only holy or fire spells will be able to inflict mortal wounds upon a vampire. Any other spell, no matter how devastating to other races, will simply cause a vampire great pain but not death. My silver sword, Shadowbane, has such holy enchantments on it that allow it to slay the children of the night in just one stroke. Since Alden and Lune do not know such holy spells they should stick with spells that will trap or slow down vampires enough for those with silver weapons to finish them. Vampires are highly powerful, even without weapons. They possess nearly demonic strength and stamina so try not lose your silver weapon at any time or during a battle, it is pretty much your only hope. Although they are few now, there are some pure-blood vampires that can transform into powerful bat-like forms so watch out for that. That’s…that’s all I have to say on vampires,” she ended anti-climactically.
She walked back into the midst of the sitting mercenaries and sat beside Khas. Zale hadn’t noticed earlier but now that he thought of it he had been seeing them together quite a lot lately. He hadn’t expected his words to Krista to make an effect to such a degree and he became very happy as he realized how much she must respect and like him to take his words to heart like that. Then he remembered how vain he can be sometimes and grew suspicious. He looked over at them and did a double take to Krista. Her eyes seemed subtly different. He looked at them, really looked at them and was startled to see that her eyes had taken on an almost nonexistent shade of red. As she noticed him staring at her he quickly turned his attention back to Faine.
“…and we’ll definitely need to bring torches along. I’m sure the mayor can spare a few. Now then our spy was able to very nicely procure a map of the castle grounds, how, only the gods know. So from what I see there is a small side entrance to the castle. We’ll enter from there instead of the main gate so we can hopefully surprise our enemy. There appear to be two parts to the castle. The main part consists of dungeons and various other rooms along with a grand central throne room. That is one possible location for the vampire. The second part consists of the upper floor of the castle which contains many roomy towers and one large tower rising from the center. Our vampire lord might also be lurking there. Therefore we will split into two groups once we reach the castle. The first group shall consist of Zale, myself, Lune and Jack. Group one will investigate the throne room. Group 2 consists of Khas, Alden, Valandil and Krista. You four shall head to the high tower. I have taken the time over these past few days to memorize the route to the grand throne room so you had better take this Khas”. She handed him an ancient map. He studied it for a second and then pocketed it in one of the many folds of his vast cloak. “Well if there are no questions…?” she said looking at them.
“How are we going to get through the mist?” Zale asked suddenly. Faine let out an exasperated sigh, and the others grinned at each other in anticipation.
“Zale I already went over that. Don’t tell me that you, our clan CAPTAIN, weren’t paying attention?” As Zale became flustered everyone but Khas let out small snickers. After all it wasn’t everyday they got to see their captain, the legendary Zale Gringo, be put on the spot by someone else.
“Er…well you see…” he started to say but Faine cut him off like an adult scolding a child.
“Yes I see indeed. Well I’ll just have to go over it again, won't I? The mayor has left us a hefty amount of torches to take with us. Each group will take about 4 to five torches and use them to ward off the mist. Alden and Lune both said that they know simple spells of illumination to use if we need further light or run out of torches.” The others laughed as she talked to him in such a condescending tone of voice. Zale would have become angry had he not been so deserving of the entirely impolite way Faine was talking to her superior.
Why does she always make me feel like a school-boy who just got in detention? He asked himself. Zale suddenly found himself experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Was he feeling affection, amongst the annoyance, towards Faine? Truly he respected her most out of the females in his group and considered her to be the most important member of the group, due to her strategy skills. But he had never before found himself seeing her as someone to court. Truly he had buried emotions of love for the past four years, not becoming cold and businesslike like Khas but remaining out of the "dating scene" for some time. It had taken him that long to get over Louise’s death. He quickly gave himself a mental shake of the head, warm feelings towards Faine and the contemplation of such could wait till later. For now, he needed to focus on the mission at hand.
“No questions?” she said again letting her crisp gaze linger on Zale for a moment. “Well then let’s head out Gringo mercenaries!” The mercenaries gathered their necessary equipment and donned on their weapons and armor. As everyone was getting ready Khas came up to Zale and began a whispered conversation with him.
“Zale I need more blood vials,” whispered Khas. Zale gave him a quizzical look.
“Didn’t I just give you your usual amount the other day?” Zale asked. “You should have plenty more left.” Khas looked slightly abashed.
“Well it seems my hunger has been more powerful in recent days. I’m not sure why but…” Zale suddenly noticed that Krista was looking over to them furtively. When she saw he had noticed she quickly looked away. Zale once more began feeling suspicious. He quickly turned back to what Khas was saying.
“…anyways I’ve been consuming twice my normal rate and need about 30 on me before we head to the castle.” Zale still felt suspicious, but he’d rather not have Khas suddenly tearing at everyone’s throats for blood. He went to his own pack and retrieved the magical bag he had received on one of his many journeys. It was a marvelous thing. If someone put his/her name into it then the bag would only open for that person. Even if torn and ripped open the contents of the bag would not show themselves unless the owner of the bag reached into it. Burning or destroying it would destroy any items inside, so at least nobody could steal anything from it. And best of all, the bag had an unlimited capacity for anything, so long as you could fit it inside the opening. Since Zale had placed a paper with his full name into it, only he could access it. He kept many important items in here, one of them being Khas’ blood vial supply.
“Here, but try to not use them up so fast because your supply is almost starting to run low,” Zale said, handing Khas the blood vials. Khas thanked Zale and walked away. Zale watched both Krista and Khas, looking for any suspicious behavior, while the rest of the mercenaries continued to prepare. However he could not keep his eyes on them once the mercenaries were ready to go, and when he wasn’t looking Khas discreetly passed several blood vials to Krista, who eyed him compassionatley. Now assembled, they headed towards the main cavern where the mayor was located. As he saw them he hailed them merrily.
“Ah our valiant mercenaries! I presume you are ready to set off for the castle? Excellent, excellent I will show you to the catacomb entrance. He led them down a series of tunnels again and they ended up at the door with the ruby-shaped indentation. He placed his ruby into the indentation and the wall opened once again. When he spoke again his voice had lost its usual surprisingly jolly tone and had grown deadly serious.
“I wish you all the luck in the world, mercenaries. Should you slay the vampire and return peace to our village we shall know you as heroes and you will have our eternal gratitude. Here, like I promised, is the first payment of gold.” He handed them a jingling bag full of coins. “You will receive the rest as soon as the vampire is dead and you have returned. Know that should you succeed you will be always welcome here and given the finest treatment.” His eyes shined with dim hope. “We’re counting on you, Gringo mercenaries.” With that last statement he took back his ruby and the wall shuddered back into place. Zale felt emboldened by the mayor’s words and set off with his mercenaries at a swift gait for the castle shrouded in crimson mist.
They quickly lit the torches. Zale walked with some anxiety but after the mayor’s advice about light proved to be truthful he breathed easier. They walked for some minute’s time through a seemingly dead landscape. They could see quite well now that it was day, but the mist caused everything to have a hazy red hue. Quite suddenly the castle loomed before them, dramatically wreathed by crimson clouds and bathing in the feeble light of the blood-red sun, which they could barely make out through the haze. For a few seconds the party stopped and gazed in awe at the sinister yet wondrous sight. Then without a word they continued. As they reached the base of the hill the castle was built upon, Faine bade them to stop.
“I don’t want that vampire to know of our entrance into his castle so we can have the element of surprise. So, Lune, if you would be so kind as to cast invisibility spell upon us?” she said. Lune nodded wordlessly and pulled out some silvery dust that glittered and was transparent, a spell component. Holding it in her hand she uttered the incantation and they all slowly faded from sight. It was slightly unnerving to be standing there in the mist with seemingly nobody around, even though they knew they were all nearby. Lune then cast another spell that allowed them to see each other yet remain invisible. They set off for the side entrance once more. They met no resistance on their way to the side of the castle and the area was intensely silent. After consulting the map Khas had Faine was able to discern where the side entrance was. She walked up to the wall and placed he hand on a portion that was slightly off-color from the rest of the castle. She pushed upon it and the wall faded to reveal an ordinary door. They ventured into the castle one by one, and found themselves in a dim hallway. The mist seemed to reside within the castle as well, though not as thick or blinding as it was outside. As they began to walk they noticed that stained-glass windows decorated the entire place, had not the mist been present the sun would be shining prettily through the entire castle. Faine directed them to a side hall and it was there that the two groups parted ways.
“Khas I trust you should be able to read the map. That way,” she pointed to a grand stairway on her left, “will lead you upstairs to a large antechamber. From there you should be able to make your way to the tower.” Khas nodded and, bidding his group to follow stalked to and up the wide stair steps.
“Our route begins through this set of double doors.” Zale’s group walked through the large antechamber and to the double doors on the other side. Each of them gripping a knob, Zale and Faine led their group into another set of winding corridors. And so the parties went their separate ways and began their scouring of the dusky castle.
Chapter six: The Ebony Knight
Outside the castle an area of the mist suddenly shimmered and gave way to a violent outpouring of darkness. For several seconds inky liquid blackness seeped through an unseen gateway and then it began to mold itself into a form. It coagulated as it formed into a hulking figure that stood over 7 feet tall and was covered in gleaming ebony armor. In fact it appeared that every inch of the beastly figure was protected by the black armor. There were only two openings, one in its helm for its eyes to see through, and a miniscule gap in the back of the helm through which poured a long mane of what must have been the thing’s hair. The long strands of hair were surprisingly straight and were blood-red in color. The teleportation, for that is what it must have been, finally completed and the hulking figure’s eyes suddenly gleamed with a soft red glow. At first it felt a great anger at being summoned in such an impromptu manner. Then it saw the looming castle before it and knew. Its master had called it, there was bloodwork to be done. If the thing could have smiled it would have done so. But instead its eyes widened in anticipation inside its helm and it trudged up to the castle, where it knew it would receive further instructions.
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Zale and his party were making their way steadily. They had encountered no resistance and had not seen a single soul so far. It didn’t cheer Zale up however, merely made him more suspicious. They had traveled through a veritable maze of hallways and corridors, and if Faine had not known the way Zale was sure they would never have found their way out again. They passed many grand doors and chambers which would have been totally confusing had Faine not been directing them. She would nod her head towards the right way and they followed her lead. Finally they came to a single door facing them.
Chapter six: The Ebony Knight
Outside the castle an area of the mist suddenly shimmered and gave way to a violent outpouring of darkness. For several seconds inky liquid blackness seeped through an unseen gateway and then it began to mold itself into a form. It coagulated as it formed into a hulking figure that stood over 7 feet tall and was covered in gleaming ebony armor. In fact it appeared that every inch of the beastly figure was protected by the black armor. There were only two openings, one in its helm for its eyes to see through, and a miniscule gap in the back of the helm through which poured a long mane of what must have been the thing’s hair. The long strands of hair were surprisingly straight and were blood-red in color. The teleportation, for that is what it must have been, finally completed and the hulking figure’s eyes suddenly gleamed with a soft red glow. At first it felt a great anger at being summoned in such an impromptu manner. Then it saw the looming castle before it and knew. Its master had called it, there was bloodwork to be done. If the thing could have smiled it would have done so. But instead its eyes widened in anticipation inside its helm and it trudged up to the castle, where it knew it would receive further instructions.
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Zale and his party were making their way steadily. They had encountered no resistance and had not seen a single soul so far. It didn’t cheer Zale up however, merely made him more suspicious. They had traveled through a veritable maze of hallways and corridors, and if Faine had not known the way Zale was sure they would never have found their way out again. They passed many grand doors and chambers which would have been totally confusing had Faine not been directing them. She would nod her head towards the right way and they followed her lead. Finally they came to a single door facing them.
“This leads to an armory and a series of other rooms. All we have to do is travel straight and we should find ourselves within the central chamber,” said Faine. Zale simply nodded and pushed open the ancient door.
He walked first into the dusty armory. There were all sorts of weapons and armor meticulously arranged inside. Zale would have been keen to examine the various weapons any other circumstances. But for now he wanted to finish the job as soon as possible. To his left was a gloomy stairwell that must lead to the dungeons and on his right a door that probably led to another of the main castle areas. In front of him was yet another door through which he knew lay their path. There were rusty suits of armor placed near each of the doors for decoration. Zale moved towards the door across the armory, his fellows following him. He reached for the doorknob but as he grasped the handle detected the slightest movement out of the corner of his eye. Before any of the others could have yelled a warning the two armors flanking that door had swept their halberds in a sideways motion towards the door, obviously meaning to cleave Zale in two. Without thinking Zale leaped up into the air, kicked off the door with one foot and spun away from the murderous armors in midair and landing deftly in a crouch. The halberds sunk into the wooden door and the armors pulled them out and prepared to strike again.
As the armors flanking the other doors clanked to life Zale’s party wordlessly went into action. Zale had already drawn his enchanted katana, Bloodmourne, and now Faine and Jack drew their weapons as well. Lune backed into the center of the room as he began to cast a spell. The other 4 armors in the room charged so that now Zale, Faine, and Jack were facing two armors each as they fought to protect their vulnerable sorcerer. Zale parried and dodged the strokes of the armors he faced without much trouble. However, the magically animated armors were incredibly powerful and Zale found his hands smarting every time he connected his sword with their weapons. He sidestepped a crashing downward swing and parried a blow from the other armor. The first armor was open for attack so Zale quickly turned his sword and swung it with all his might at the weak neck area of the armor. His sword slashed right through the armor and sent the helm tottering to the floor. Zale smiled. Bloodmourne had never let him down yet, it was incredibly sharp, and the enchantments placed upon it allowed it to cut through even the most powerful of metals and enchantments. His smile quickly faded as the beheaded armor resumed attacking him, not slowing down in the least. Faine and Jack weren’t faring much better. The armors facing Jack held mighty axes which Jack found hard to block with his claymore and round shield. He did have more maneuverability though and so he was able to barely hold off the powerful automatons. Faine was holding her own against two armors wielding wicked-looking morning stars that they whirled around with devastating momentum. Her wide tower shield was all that saved her from the bone-crunching morning stars. Her weapon was a wicked-looking mace, but she didn’t seem to have any chances to use it yet. All the while Lune was preparing her spell with almost serene nonchalance.
“Lune hurry! Or we’re all done for!!” yelled Jack in desperation as he landed a mighty blow on one of the armor’s shoulders. It’s left arm fell off but it continued to fight like nothing had happened. Faine continued to defend the ever more powerful blows from her adversaries, not even able to attempt any attacks. Zale had decimated one of his armors somehow. It lay in pieces across the floor, some still attempting to function. He stole a quick glance around to see how his allies were faring when he saw Faine’s luck run out. The armors both swung at the same time and the resulting force knocked her down onto her back. Her head hit the floor as she landed and she went out cold. Immediately an armor rushed forward to swing its morning star down at Faine with all of its force in a killing blow. Time seemed to freeze for Zale.
He had never lost one mercenary during his time as captain of the Gringo mercenaries and Faine was one of his most dedicated warriors. He wasn’t about to lose her. With a number of piercing “SCHIIIIIING!” sounds the chain connecting the mace to the handle of the morning star was slashed, causing the mace to fall to the floor short of its mark, and the armor fell apart into several pieces simultaneously. Zale was behind the fallen armor, his sword held outward and an icy flame in his eye. The other morning star wielding armor turned to face this new adversary. Zale came at in with a flurry of strokes, beginning to cut it down mercilessly.
Meanwhile the other armor Zale had been facing saw a hole in the group’s defense and stalked up to Lune to cut down the defenseless sorceress with its halberd. Zale was too busy to notice and Jack had his hands full. Lune’s eyes widened in fear as the clinking automaton stepped within striking distance. It swung with inhuman strength that would have cleaved Lune in two had she not finished her spell work just in the nick of time. She spoke the final command words and held out her hand toward the onrushing armor. From her hand flowed an icy blue mist which instantly coated the armor and then spread to the other armors. They each froze completely and then burst into thousands of ice shards. Zale and Jack were breathing heavily. A slight moan from Faine signaled to them that she had regained consciousness.
“You couldn’t…huff…have finished that…huff…a bit earlier? Jack asked a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…but I needed to cast spells of protection on all of you so that you wouldn’t suffer from the ice spell.” replied Lune in her usual soft voice, casting a demure look to the ground. Jack’s anger quickly faded as he realized she had just saved their necks.
“Listen I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a jerk. That was really something back there.” Lune’s eyes warmed a bit in appreciation and she nodded.
Zale sighed. “Now then, Faine are you alright?” Faine was standing somewhat woozily, one hand to her head.
“I’m not that hurt, just a little groggy. Hmm, enchanted armors? I think we’re dealing with a powerful vampire wizard, rather than a warrior. Well, anyways let’s get moving again. I lost my train of thought; now what door did we come from again…?” she trailed off and suddenly fell for the floor. Jack and Zale caught her before she could hit her head again.
“Okay Lune cast a healing spell on her, the last thing we need is a guide who keeps fainting.” Lune nodded and muttered a short spell as a green glow emanated around Faine’s body. She awoke instantly, the look of faintness replaced by her usual businesslike expression. She looked around for a moment and then pointed to the door they needed to go through. They set off for the throne room with their weapons still held ready for any other threats.
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Khas and his group were busy making their way up a large flight of stairs. A huge window spilled dulled red sunlight onto the stairs and would normally have given a magnificent view of the town. All they could see, however, was the dark mist and the battered rays of sunlight that tried to go through it. At the top of the grand stairs there were two sets of smaller stairs on the left and right that went into the opposite direction. These took the group to a huge hall that seemed shadowy and forbidding after going by the bright window. There were several doors and several similarly wide passages leading off into darkness. Khas held a hand up to signal his group to stop as he inspected the map. There were various rooms that served as galleries, kitchens, dance halls, and private theaters, with an equal number of towers spread out along the top of the castle. From what he read on the map it seemed the towers had been barracks for soldiers and/or armories in the older days of the castle. Their way was quite clear though. The upper portion of the castle was designed like a cross. They were in the southern section of the cross. In each end of the cross lay 4 rooms and 1 tower. All in all there were 16 rooms and 4 towers. Well five counting the central tower where the vampire lord was probably lurking. This lay in the center of the cross, up a spiral staircase. Khas nodded and beckoned his fellows to follow his lead. He strode to the doorway which would take them to the hall that led to the central tower. As he got close to the door he found that he could go no further. As he attempted to push his way to the door the magical barrier gleamed red and pushed him off his feet. He got up from his disgraceful position and thought for a second.
“Well although I’m quite proficient at picking locks I’ve no idea how to surpass this magical barrier. Alden, could you examine this please?” Alden nodded and moved forward to take a good look at the previously invisible barrier. The barrier shined and gleamed like glass. It was entirely two dimensional and had a red sheen to it. He looked at every inch of it and then proceeded to raise one tentative hand to its surface. When his hand touched it, nothing happened for several moments. Then with an odd sound emanating from the magical wall, the wall itself extended whispery tendrils of energy that reached out in an attempt to attack Alden. He stepped back and avoided it, and the wall instantly resumed its normal state. Alden nodded to himself and cast several spells of magical detection to determine how to bypass the wall and just what it was. Finally he was done with his inspection.
“Well this is like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s incredibly dark magic. There are simple spells for breaking barriers such as this, but this thing is the ultimate barrier I’ve ever come across. Obviously the vampire lord of this castle, or perhaps one of his minions, is a very powerful wizard to do such magic. It will attack like a living being in response to any attempt to break through and I don’t think even my most powerful spells of penetration could break it. I’ll try though.” He instantly dug through his robes for spell components and began intoning various spells. First he cast a spell of magical and physical protection to guard against any response from the wall. Then he tried spell after spell on the wall but succeeded only in making it writhe and seethe with agitation.
“Damn,” he said softly. “There’s nothing to do but head back and go around.” Khas shrugged and nodded his assent. The party moved back down the hall they had traversed. They had not gone too far before another such wall appeared before their very eyes, trapping them. As one the mercenaries readied their weapons and moved into battle formation.
“This doesn’t look good,” said Valandil. Khas nodded.
“Obviously something’s coming, and it looks like we’ll have to fight our way out." Portals appeared an instant later all around the mercenaries. They were triangular and gleamed, like everything else in this place, crimson red with various glyphs and runes. Out of the portals stepped vampires, not slavering hunger-demented ones but purposeful soldiers and warriors. The apparent leader was a tall figure who was garbed in light armor and was gripping a basket-hilt saber. His brilliantly blonde hair clashed violently with his dark armor and sinister visage. As his portal vanished he stepped forward and addressed the mercenaries, raising his sword in an aggressive manner towards them.
“Greetings guests,” he said to them in a haughty voice. “I don’t know how you could have been stupid enough as to think a simple spell of invisibility would mask your entry into milord’s castle. Perhaps you didn’t notice, but your invisibility faded as you stepped within the castle. My lord is very interested in you, but first...a test of your mettle.” He suddenly flashed a fanged grin. “After all, my master will only accept the very best into his services.” Khas and the others said nothing, waiting for the oncoming attack. “No final words? Well then…” he trailed off raising his sword up high as a command for the attack. The assorted vampires instantly surged towards the defending mercenaries.
Alden began casting defensive spells as soon as the battle erupted. Valandil stood back alongside Alden launching silver-tipped arrows with extreme accuracy. Several vampires stopped dead in their tracks (literally) and burned away as silver arrowheads penetrated their hearts. Others gasped in pain as silver arrows plunged into other non-lethal parts of their bodies but kept rushing towards the Gringo mercenaries. The mercenaries had backed towards a wall to avoid being surrounded. Alden and Valandil stood protected against the wall as Khas and Krista somehow managed to hold their own against the vampires. Krista fought like a demon, her fiery red hair streaming behind her as she took down foe after foe like an enraged battle goddess. She used her rapier to great effect, its sharp end piercing the heart of many vampires and turning them to ashes. While Krista fought wildly, Khas was the exact opposite. He was cold and calculated in battle, shifting between blows with uncanny agility. He sliced throats and pierced hearts with his twin killing daggers. He fought like a shadow, always darting away from danger just in time and flitting between multiple enemies with seeming ease. Then came what must have been the elite warriors, for Krista and Khas found themselves backing up slightly. These vampires wore identical armor along with identical swords. There were three of them. Two rushed at Khas while the one came at Krista alongside the blonde vampire. Khas twisted and weaved through the flurries and strokes but was unable to find openings. They were even able to deflect Valandil's well-aimed arrows with perfect parries of their swords.
Luckily Alden had finished casting protective spells on his allies some time ago for he finished an offensive spell as Khas and Krista took on the vampire elites. A beam of light flashed out at Khas’ attackers. Unfortunately the crimson mist that invaded the inside of the castle as well as the surrounding area diluted the light somewhat, allowing the vampires to survive the light which normally would have burned them away. The light hurt their sensitive eyes, however, and they hissed and covered their eyes. Khas used the diversion to find a very small chink in one of the elite’s armor and stabbed into it viciously, dragging the dagger around as much as possible as the vampire gasped with agony. And still there were more vampire soldiers looming behind, waiting for their chance to get into the action. Khas was only able to severely injure his foe as more warriors joined the fray. Krista had disposed the one elite facing her and was now engaged with the blonde-haired leader of the vampire soldiers. As this created a gap in the group more warriors rushed to attack Valandil and Alden. Alden began to launch elemental spells such as fire and ice to slow down and weaken the vampires. Valandil, seeing the warriors running at him, dropped his bow and drew his short sword. He was not as good with a blade as he was with bow and arrow, but he held his own.
All throughout the ongoing battle Krista and the vampire leader continued their dance of swords. They appeared equally matched. Slowly at first, but then more rapidly the Gringo mercenaries and the vampire soldiers stopped to watch this confrontation. Both Krista and the blonde vampire were skillful and their blades nicked and danced across one another’s for several moments. Finally Krista was able to pierce through her rival’s defense and puncture through the right side of his chest. He gasped in pain that the holy blade caused and fell back clutching the wound.
“Gahhh…you mercenaries are certainly skilled. But I tire of my men being killed. Master, it is time to send your greatest servant!!” he cried looking upward. Suddenly, more rapidly so than anyone could have prepared for, the servant appeared. Its form was pure white light and featureless as it was materializing, yet they could all see that this was a hulking beast of a creature. As its teleportation completed it filled with color, or to be more precise lack of color, the black armor gleaming even in the dark room. It was none other than the dark knight that had appeared outside the castle! Its mad crimson eyes roamed about the scene with insane delight.
“Urrrgggrahh!” it grunted as it hefted its mighty broadsword from its back. The gauntleted hands that gripped the hilt of the blade were far too enormous to be a man’s. The mercenaries stepped back in awe of this mighty newcomer. It leveled its powerful sword at them and began to laugh. “Hrahahahaha, what fine warriors my master has delivered unto me. I shall dispose of them with pleasure, Adrian,” it said in a deep inhuman voice to the fair-haired vampire. He nodded with a grim smile on his face, his hand still clasped about his wound. Without a word he and his men vanished through the same portals they had arrived in. When the creature stepped it shook the very floor they were standing on, so large was its frame. It now held the broadsword at its side. It gave them another appraising glance, and then said simply “Die.” With that last word it rushed at them, armor clinking and the ground shaking. It spun and whirled its broadsword in a wide frontal side-arc swing, aiming to hit Khas and Krista in the same swipe. Khas dropped to the ground and rolled aside while Krista leaped over the blade somewhat clumsily. The monster didn’t even bother to see whether its blow had hit, it simply continued charging until it reached Valandil. Valandil still hard his short sword drawn, and he knew it wouldn’t do crap against this thing. He readied himself to dodge the mighty blade but the ebony knight used a surprising maneuver. Instead of using his blade the ebony knight simply bashed Valandil in the face with the hilt of his broadsword. Valandil hadn’t been prepared for that and was smashed into the wall, his face streaming blood. This was apparently the effect the ebony knight had desired, for it immediately brought the blade towards Valandil from the side in a slashing motion that would cut him in half from the waist down. From somewhere down in his primal instincts Valandil’s body reacted and crouched downward without him thinking about it.
The heavy blade crashed into the wall above his head, creating numerous cracks and fissures. The beast roared with rage that it had missed its target and pulled the blade out of the wall and raised it again quickly like it weighed no more than a small baton. It was just about to bring the blade down in a crashing blow that Valandil, who now lay in a heap on the floor, could not have avoided.
Just in time Alden finished casting a powerful spell that sent electricity roaring from his fingertips at the armored leviathan. The beast roared in pain (or was it anger?) and dropped its sword, which sunk tip-first into the floor and stayed there. As the electricity roiled over its body the ebony knight dropped to one knee and put one hand down on the floor to support its heavy frame. Krista had come up off the floor and strode toward the ebony knight, her rapier in hand. She eyed it with contempt as she placed the tip of the rapier in front of the thing’s eyes, implying that she was about to stab it through the head. The thing was still growling in pain as Alden kept up a steady stream of electricity. Krista drew her rapier back to plunge into the thing’s face.
As the ebony knight saw this it went into a paroxysm of rage and with an effort of incredible willpower and determination it rushed up as the electricity continued to flow all over it and landed a gauntlet-fisted punch right in Krista’s face. She went flying across the hallway, her sword clanging to the floor and skittering away from her. Not even a second later the ebony knight burst upon its antagonist, Alden. It grabbed its fallen blade and with a roar slashed at Alden. Alden’s face registered surprise as the broadsword managed to get through his magical protection and slash across his chest. Had he not placed such defensive enchantments on himself he would have been cleaved in two. Nonetheless he flew backwards as well, blood spraying from his chest and his spell ending.
The only one left to take on the ebony knight was Khas, who had been lurking in the shadows awaiting an opportunity to strike. He now raked his blades along the ebony knight’s armor, seeking weak points and openings and at the same time avoiding the thing’s blade. His blades drew sparks only, not even coming close to piercing the thick armor plating. Although normally Khas would have been at an advantage due to the unwieldy broadsword, the ebony knight was able to use it as if it were as light and airy as a rapier. Still, Khas was somehow able to dodge the thing’s attacks. And yet he could not find a single weak point on the armor. And he was gradually tiring, while the ebony knight seemed incapable of such a thing. In fact it seemed to get stronger the more and more it fought. Finally, after several intense moments of battle, the ebony knight launched a small kick as Khas dodged a perilously close blow. It swung its blade around it to gain momentum and started to swing it down at Khas. Khas somehow amazingly rolled away even as he was doubled over in pain. The beast growled in pure frustration and began to lunge at Khas again.
Alden, however, seemed to have summoned some inner strength and had risen from the ground despite his grisly injury. Muttering an incantation grimly he summoned a shining globe of energy that hurled itself at the ebony knight. The knight turned to face Alden and took the globe right in the face. Blinding light immediately filled the room and the ebony knight’s deep-throated cry echoed throughout the corridor.
“AAAAAGHHHH!!!” sounded its anguished cry. It had dropped its sword once again and its hands were about its face in a protective grasp. The ebony knight did not appear damaged, merely stunned and horrified. Khas quickly grabbed Krista’s rapier off the floor and moved to impale the ebony knight’s unguarded eyes. Before he could do so, however, the ebony knight conjured a billowing black flame that engulfed its right hand as it held it up. It then brought its hand downward and the flame hit the ground and engulfed its body entirely. Then the flames rushed up briefly and when they died the ebony knight was gone. Alden grinned victoriously for a moment, and then collapsed in a bloody heap. Khas rushed to aid his companions. Seeing that Krista and Valandil, although bloody and woozy, were ok he ran to assist Alden.
Alden looked deathly pale, and appeared dead. He was not breathing, definitely a bad sign. Khas quickly fumbled amongst his pockets for a healing potion. He forced the stuff down Alden’s throat. Nothing happened. Becoming frustrated, Khas tried using a greater healing potion. Still nothing occurred. Khas didn’t exactly feel much emotion for Alden; in fact he didn’t even like Alden at all. But he respected Alden’s magical prowess and knew he would be essential to the mission’s success. He was at a loss as to what he could do though. He opted to go to Krista and Valandil.
“Krista, Valandil!” he said urgently. “Alden is dying and my healing potions aren’t working, do either of you have a clue what to do?” Krista and Valandil rushed over to Alden’s side.
“He’s not dead…yet,” said Krista solemnly. “But he’s not breathing so it’s only a matter of time before he dies…if healing potions aren’t working then there’s nothing we can do.”
“No! Alden…” uttered Valandil in dismay.
“Wait…there is one way to save him,” muttered Khas rapidly. Before the others could question this, Khas had gone down and bitten Alden on the neck.
“Khas, just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” cried Krista as she attempted to pull Khas away. Khas pushed her away angrily, his blood-red eyes flaring.
“If you want him to live then let me do this!” Krista gulped and, after a moment of indecision, let him go. Khas sank his fangs into Alden’s throat for a few more moments, and then got up onto his knees. Using one of his daggers he cut his own wrist and let the blood gush rapidly into Alden’s open mouth. Krista and Valandil watched this all with mixed expressions of shock, awe and disgust. For a long time Alden didn’t move, and a frustrated Khas drew another slash along his wrist to get more blood flowing. Finally after what seemed an eternity Alden’s eyes fluttered open and he was breathing again.
“Wha…what happened?” was all he said before fading into unconsciousness.
“Does this mean…” Valandil began.
“Yes, he is a vampire now. We had no other choice, did we?” challenged Khas, eyeing his two comrades.
“N-n-no…I suppose we didn’t,” whispered Valandil. He was visibly shaken by what had just transpired, and was shaking like a leaf.
“Krista, heal him and then wake him,” ordered Khas coldly. Krista nodded, and fed him another small healing potion. After it was gone she gently slapped Alden until he finally awoke.
“I…I taste blood in my mouth,” he said questioningly. “What happened after I blacked out?” Nobody answered. “Well? What happened?!”
“You were dying, practically dead already.” Khas intoned softly. “We had no other options save to let you die…so in order to save you I…I turned you.”
“Turned…? Oh…now I see.”
“I understand if you’re angry…if you wish vengeance on me for cursing you so.” But as he stood up Alden looked anything but angry…he actually looked quite pleased.
“While I never would have willingly become a vampire…I do not begrudge you for it chap. Eternal life, astounding power and agility, who could complain? If anything I owe you thanks for saving my life.” And with that Alden heartily clapped a surprised Khas on the back.
“I…I only did what I felt I must,” he said in reply. With that having been settled the mercenaries continued on their mission…albeit a bit shaken up and a little more than wary of what else could be lurking in the dusky red hallways of the vampire castle.
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Meanwhile the surviving members of the vampire force that attacked Khas’ party were now inside their lord’s private chamber. Their fair-haired blond leader was talking earnestly to the most daunting vampire in the room, Lord Kassad, who had his back turned with his hands clasped behind his back and was looking out into the misty sky through a large window that bathed reddened light into the entire room.
“My lord, I lost over half of my soldiers. The mercenaries are just as strong as you surmised,” said the vampire captain. He didn’t seem emotionally distressed over the deaths of any of his soldiers; he was simply giving his report.
“Yes, yes it is unfavorable that you lost so many before Daggoth was able to arrive. But, I have many, many other vampires within my legions. You will receive plenty of new recruits to integrate into your force, Adrian. In fact,” he added with a wry grin, turning to face Adrian, “You might just receive the newest ones. You yourself have seen how skilled they are in battle.”
“Many thanks milord, but what would you have us do now?” asked Adrian. Kassad seemed to contemplate for a moment, until a disturbance in the room distracted him. Daggoth, the fearsome ebony knight, had arrived in his usual method of transportation, a miniature black hole. The blackness that was Daggoth seeped out of the gateway and formed itself into Daggoth within seconds. The gateway blinked out as every vampire in the room turned to look at him. Kassad’s expression turned more serious as he saw his most trusted servant arrive.
“For now,” he said with a wave of his hand towards Adrian and his force, “I would like you to return to your barracks and await further orders. Do not by any means make contact with our ‘guests’.” Adrian nodded suppliantly and he and his men marched out of the grand room and made their way back to their barracks. Apparently the teleportation magic they had used before was too precious to waste on such a simple action. Now it was only Daggoth and his lord, standing silently in the crimson light. Daggoth immediately moved closer to Kassad and bowed down before him, leaning on his sword like knights would before their kings.
“Master, I am deeply sorry for my failure to destroy the puny insects. I will go back and crush them if it is your desir-” He began to say. Kassad had made a hand gesture that beckoned Daggoth to silence himself.
“No, Daggoth you did not fail at all,” stated Kassad. “In fact, you did exactly what I wanted you to. If you had slain them, I would not have been angry. For that would have proven them unworthy to join my ranks. But I would have been disappointed at the loss of possible new warriors. Nonetheless, they have shown themselves to be quite worthy of attention. You have helped even more so by weakening them slightly and sowing fear into their hearts. For they must realize that you are not the lord of this castle, merely one of my many servants. From their perspective, who knows how many more incredibly mighty warriors I have at my hand, or how powerful I am myself? I am confidant this little charade will all work out as planned, my most loyal servant.”
“I thank you for your kind words master,” replied Daggoth reverently in his deep, guttural voice. “How else may I serve you, master?”
“Hmmm…I would like you to check out the other mercenaries and repeat your earlier assault on them. Well actually there is the matter of the drow called Zale…he is not to be harmed. No, do not attack them just yet. I want you to tail them unseen until our ally separates the sheep from their shepherd. Once Zale is gone I want you to strike upon the remaining mercenaries as you did with the others. But, this time I do not want you to try and kill them. There are only three of them, and you would probably be able to kill them. If you overpower them I want you to try and bring them to me, still alive and not mortally wounded. After all I suspect they will be just as useful as their other comrades.” Daggoth nodded and prepared his portal once again saying,
“As you command, my lord.” With that he melded into shadow and whisked away. Kassad looked very pleased and resumed his stance by the window, peering thoughtfully outside into the bloody darkness he so enjoyed.
Chapter 7: A Familiar Face or Two
Zale and the others had encountered more traps and enchanted armors throughout the dizzying amount of rooms that stood between them and their destination. They had fought through beatific galleries, enormous staterooms, dark lounges, as well as massive kitchens. Being prepared for attackers now, they fought on their way with little difficulty, but much impatience. Lune had placed temporary elemental enchantments upon all of their weapons so that they had an added icy damage effect. This allowed them to cut down the legions of enchanted armors they encountered without much hassle. Faine had said they needed only to go straight; perhaps the simplicity of it was what made the going seem so exasperating. It seemed there was no end to the large rooms they walked through.
“Here, these are the doors that open to the central sanctum!” Faine finally cried with uncharacteristic excitement. Her announcement wasn’t truly necessary though. The doors that stood before them were incredibly tall as well as magnificently wide. So much so that they bordered on being ludicrously gargantuan. Their handles were sculpted lion heads depicted with snarling faces. Likewise on the each of the two doors was an emblazoned lion looming tall and golden in color. Zale looked around at his party, took a deep breath and pushed on the heavy doors with both hands. They swung open with surprising ease and he led his party into the room.
The room was as magnificent as any king’s room should be. There was an array of fine-looking seats for counselors and advisors to sit upon. Above them was a balustrade that loomed around the entire sanctum, most likely it had been for the king’s nobles and royal subjects. There were several stained glass windows on either side of the sanctum. The place probably would have been filled with sunlight and had the feel of a chapel or some other holy ground due to the stained glass and gothic architecture. However, the contagion that had settled upon the castle and the city had a very different effect on the room now. Instead of having a holy or reverent feel to it, the crimson mist caused the sunlight that lanced into the room to be tinged with a deep red, casting a dark gloom upon the entire sanctum. The room felt wholly evil, as if within it had occurred great travesties or it contained secrets of the darkest sort. In the center of the room was a grand throne, shrouded in shadows.
The party moved forward cautiously closer to finally see who the lord of this castle was. Slowly the shadows around the throne faded to reveal that-no one was sitting there! Zale was just about to contemplate this mystery when a noise from behind grasped his attention. At the section of the balustrade directly behind them was standing a figure wreathed in flame and darkness. It stood with one leg propped on the railing that lined the balustrade, gazing at them with contempt.
“Ah, so nice to see you again, Zale Gringo!” said the figure. Before Zale had a chance to make anything of this greeting or respond, the figure leapt from the balustrade, doing a neat flip in the air and landing gracefully on one knee and a hand on the ground. It looked up to cast its eyes in Zale’s direction; it was none other than the drow lad, Arrkmed!! Or at least, what used to be Arrkmed. There was practically no trace of drow on the being’s features. Its skin was wholly dark with fiery symbols burning in random places. The thing’s eyes contained no pupils and were seething with flame. Arrkmed’s hair, likewise, was not hair at all but lazily dancing flames. His face was twisted with demonic essence, and the only hint that it had been drow was the elegance of the being’s form. Zale recognized him as Arrkmed only because its voice, though transformed greatly, still contained elements of Arrkmed’s voice.
“Arrkmed!? I saw you slain by the noble barbarian, Sparta! How is it that you still draw breath?” said Zale in surprise. Arrkmed stood up and surveyed Zale with a constant expression of wicked glee on his features. After looking Zale’s party over he deigned to finally answer him.
“You call me Arrkmed, Zale, but that pathetic whelp of a drow is no more. I did try to make him stronger for a year or so, but he proved utterly too weak to unlock my full power. In the end,” here he made a placating shrug, “I had to assimilate more of my power into him by force. As for you queries…I am a more powerful demon than you think Zale. I have set very many precautions against death, well you call it death. In truth I would simply return to my blasted homeworld, the Nine Hells, a place I never want to see again. I was revived 12 hours after my defeat and instantly set out to perfect my manifestation into this world. And so, I have shed that puny boy’s name and resumed my true identity, Hazadriel, the demon of mischief and mayhem.”
“What are you doing here? To what purpose are you in league with the vampires of this castle?” Zale asked, suddenly full of burning questions.
“Ah it is so simple Zale. I have made such careful planning and set myself as an ally of the ruler of this castle, ‘The Lord of Eternal Night’, for one thing mostly. And that thing is, quite simply, revenge. I wish for you to die!” Zale and his companions formed into defensive positions. Zale looked around at his companions and flashed a grin leery enough to match the demon’s.
“Hah, it’s four to one, and though I know you are quite powerful, my mercenaries are quite hardened. Do you think you could take them on, as well as I?” asked Zale, a bit arrogantly. The demon did not lose his smile however and actually agreed with Zale.
“During that battle long ago, I witnessed your prowess in battle even as I faced off with the dwarf and barbarian. I do not lie when I say you possess skill of legendary proportions Zale, and that I would find it very difficult to slay you when surrounded by your allies. Which is why I’m...not going to do so!” he grinned even wider, somehow. “No Zale, I am not nearly that idiotic. This is why I am going to extend an offer to you. If you are truly as strong as you believe and are courageous enough, meet me down in the dungeons of this castle, to duel it out. Just the two of us. Oh and another thing, once I have killed you my vengeance will be wholly complete. I don’t know if you recall that lovely elf maiden who lived through that battle with the Shadokin, but I hunted her down and slew her just a year ago. I remember her meat tasted oh so good…” The demon licked his lips and then cackled with vile laughter. As soon as its laughter ceased he teleported away to the dungeons, where he supposedly awaited Zale. Zale had a look of silent rage as well as disgust written across his face. He stood, literally quivering with rage.
“Zale, don’t tell me you’re actually thinking of taking the demon up on his offer?” asked Faine.
“I cannot let such scum roam this world, Faine. He slew two great men whom it had been a pleasure to know, and he has now slain the wonderful elf woman, Selena Starbough. She was the only one of my comrades to have escaped that mission alive, and now he has seen fit to murder her with his bloody hands as well. I owe it to them to make sure that demon returns to the hell from whence he came!” Zale said angrily. Faine grew just as angry as she retorted.
“You pig-headed fool! He’s a demon, can’t you see he’s just using your feelings of guilt and remorse over the death of your comrades to lure you!? He’s only got a chance at you if you leave us, and now you’re just going to go walking into that trap? Stop and think Zale, hunting down a demon is not part of the mission, and I doubt your friends of the past would have wanted you to walk right into your own death.” She yelled testily. Zale, strangely, grew clam again.
“Your words make perfect sense to me, as usual, Faine. But I cannot heed them. Sometimes the path of righteousness strays from the path of logic. I do not think I will die if I meet him in battle. I will use all of my skill, all of my strength to defeat Hazadriel.” Faine shook her head at his stupidity but knew it was no use to continue arguing. Now Lune and Jack voiced their opinions.
“Zale, please, you can’t go!” cried Lune emotionally. “It’s too dangerous, if you were to die what would happen to the clan?” She suddenly cast her demure gaze to the ground. “And, I...I’m not sure I could go on if you died,” she added, blushing. Jack, however, had an entirely different view on the matter.
“Listen man, I know this is a trap and that it’s dangerous, but I can understand why you have to go. As a holy knight, I too must follow a code of righteousness. I’ll be praying for you Zale, even though I know that half-brain demon scum doesn’t stand a chance against you.” Zale almost seemed taken aback by Jack’s support, but realized he should have expected it all along. Seeing that no one else had anything left to say, he marched off purposefully back in the direction they came from.
They traveled back to the stairwell that led to the dungeons without incident. There they had what Zale would always remember as an oddly emotional farewell. He had never before realized just how close he and his mercenaries had grown to each other. He looked upon them warmly, but they looked at him like they would a man marching off to the gallows.
“C’mon guys, am I really that bad that you’re all certain I’m going to die?”
Jack and Faine laughed half-heartedly. Lune rushed forward and grasped Zale in a tight hug that he gently returned. She then turned and walked down the hallway a bit, unable to meet Zale’s eyes. Jack and Zale met eyes, and they both simultaneously broke into grins. Zale began to shake Jack’s hand, but soon they opted for a gruff hug that was entirely NOT gay and simply a sign of how good friends the two were. Zale swore he saw tears in Jack’s eyes as he walked away. Jack and Lune were off a ways now and it was just him and Faine standing there. She was glaring at him, obviously still not accepting of his decision. As he looked at her, though, her prim frown faded and her anger was replaced by worry.
“I know I can’t talk you out of this so…let me give you some advice. I know that this mist affects you more deeply than us Zale. Take the rest of our torches,” she said, handing him the remaining three. “Hopefully you can reach the demon before they run out, otherwise…” she trailed off, for they both knew full well what would happen. “Well…good luck,” she ended kind of lamely. Zale nodded in appreciation at the concern she had shown and the fact that she had reminded him of the dangers of the mist. Had she not said anything, he would be in trouble as soon as the mist began to infect him. She began to turn away when Zale felt a strong impulse. He suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into a swift embrace, kissing her strongly yet briefly. Her eyes were filled with surprise as they broke apart again.
“Why…thanks, captain” she said with a husky tone that Zale had never before heard in her voice. “Make sure not to get yourself killed down there.”
“I…I promise you that I shall return,” he said softly. She walked away and Zale became even more surprised at his action than she had been. Neither of them had noticed a shocked Lune gazing at them as they had kissed, and she quickly turned away from Jack and Faine to wipe away sudden tears that had appeared. They set off, and Zale was left alone in the cobwebbed stairwell.
Zale felt as though he were walking on air. He felt absolutely no gut-wrenching guilt about what he had done, did this mean he was finally over Louise? Whatever the case, he felt great even as he knew he was heading toward what would be a supremely difficult challenge. He lit a torch and began taking the steps two at a time, whistling a tune as he went.
Faine, Lune and Jack walked in subdued silence as they began to make their way towards the center tower, where the second group was surely headed. Lune had used a spell that emanated light from her body at the cost of magic over time in place of the torches. As soon as they had made some distance between themselves and Zale, an enormous figure materialized out of seemingly nowhere and hefted his gigantic broadsword at them. The three mercenaries goggled at the sight of the armored monstrosity. With a fearsome roar he charged. Almost as one the mercenaries leaped away from its assault. Lune scuttled quickly behind a table from which to cast spells and Faine readied her mace and raised her shield into a defensive position.
Drawing his sword, Jack took the attack to Daggoth. It was an incredibly stupid and rash move. And yet it worked. Daggoth was so nonplussed at the sight of someone charging at him that he didn’t even begin to raise his sword in defense or offense yet. Although Jack’s sword was decent in length and width, it might as well have been a jackknife compared to Daggoth’s massive blade. Jack ran up and slashed his sword in a downward blow upon Daggoth’s ebony armor. Jack was strong, but his sword didn’t stand a chance of piercing that armor. His sword bounced off it with a derisive “PING” sound. This seemed to jut Daggoth out of his state of confusion. He grunted and mounted his own attack upon Jack. He swung his blade in a wide arc, meaning it to slice Jack’s head cleanly off his shoulders. Jack ducked and barely avoided the swing, using that moment to slash at the dark knight’s chest plate in an upward diagonal cut. His sword was not deflected, but only drew sparks as it raked across Daggoth’s chest plating, leaving the barest hint of a scratch. Daggoth was now reversing his blade, swing it across at Jack in the opposite direction that it just had. Jack thrust his sword towards it perpendicularly so that when their blades met, they formed a cross. Jack put all of his might into his thrust of the sword and was able to keep the sword from slashing him apart. Even so, the impact of the blow sent him reeling backwards, but he somehow kept on his feet. Now Daggoth pulled his blade close to him and lunged with it in a stabbing strike. Jack leaped out of the way, losing his footing as he did so.
Luckily, Faine had finally come into the battle, and hit the towering knight between the shoulder blades with her mace. Although it could not have caused serious damage, Daggoth did growl in pain. Faine had just figured out how to hurt him. Although his armor could not be penetrated, his body could still be bruised from a hard enough blunt object. He suddenly whirled on the spot, swing his blade with him as he did so. Luckily for Faine, he had not taken the time to turn the edge of the blade towards Faine as he swung it. So instead of being chopped apart, she was hit flat in the face with the dull part of the blade.
Once again, Faine found herself sprawled on the floor, losing consciousness. Lune seemed to be done casting defensive spells for she finally went on the attack, launching brilliant spears of energy at Daggoth. The spears seemed to ignore his thick, impenetrable armor and still pierce through his body. He roared in agony and stumbled a bit as the spears stabbed into him, each end of a spear sticking out of his chest and back. He roared in fury, and then conjured some magic of his own. The room dimmed subtly and globs of darkness congealed around his hand, forming into a thick orb of liquid darkness. He brought his hand back and whipped the orb at Lune. She attempted to cast a spell of deflection but the orb hit her before she could finish the incantation. The orb engulfed her, seeming to petrify her. She stood rooted to the spot, her skin gray, motionless as a statue. Instantly the spears of light ceased tearing into Daggoth.
He grunted satisfactorily and went for the only remaining opposition, Jack. Jack and Daggoth fought frantically for several minutes, as Faine stumbled about on the floor drunkenly, trying to regain full consciousness and shake off the massive pounding in her skull. Suddenly Jack remembered how Faine’s blunt weapon had injured the ebony knight. He had an idea. He waited until Daggoth let himself become open again, and then stepped in close, punching with the hilt of his sword right into Daggoth’s helm. Daggoth growled in pain and stepped back, reaching to his face with one huge hand. Jack smiled and prepared to continue his strategy. Unfortunately Daggoth recovered from the blow with apparent ease, defending Jack’s next attack and counterattacking. For about 10 seconds Daggoth and Jack did a dance of blades, Jack waiting for another opportunity to strike with his sword hilt. Daggoth, becoming frustrated, began making increasingly more dramatic attacks.
Finally, roaring with rage he leaped high into the air with his broadsword held over his back and came crashing down at Jack, bringing down his sword with all his might. It was easy enough to dodge; Jack simply darted to the side. Daggoth, now in a very unfavorable position, was totally open to another hit by Jack. Once more Jack stepped in close and punched with the hilt of his sword. However, Daggoth’s frustration and ludicrous strikes had all been a ruse to fool Jack. Having only put a fraction of his true strength downward, he was easily able to bring his blade up and bat Jack’s sword to the side. Jack was totally taken by surprise, and left totally open with no chance to dodge or parry the ebony knight’s next blow. Reversing the edge of his blade, Daggoth swept his sword at Jack’s chest in a slightly diagonal direction. Jack was sent flying into the wall behind him, blood spraying out of the long line that had been carved through his breastplate and into his chest. As he hit the wall he sagged down to the ground, but managed to stay standing by leaning on the wall. Blood bubbled from his mouth as also continued to spray out of his chest wound. The cut was deep, but at least he hadn’t been chopped in half. He felt certain that at least two of ribs were cracked or broken.
Somehow he managed to grab his sword from the ground. He raised it shakily towards his enemy. Daggoth laughed at the sight and moved closer to Jack. He slapped Jack’s sword out of his hands and then placed his own gargantuan broadsword on the floor. Jack eyed Daggoth with defiance as he slowly clasped one gauntleted hand around Jack’s neck, meaning to choke the life out of him. Jack’s eyes lost some of their fire as he ran out of air and they bulged with struggle. Daggoth lifted Jack off his feet into the air with his one choking hand, and laughed victoriously.
“Pathetic human, I will enjoy drinking thy blood,” he said, his twinkling red eyes gleaming with hungry malice. So Daggoth did not mean to choke Jack, he was going to bite his neck. Daggoth removed his helmet, and Jack saw a face that very few mortals had ever, or would ever, seen. Daggoth’s head seemed somewhat human…but only somewhat. It was round at least, and had hair as well. Dark shaggy hair that was red fell back over his shoulders. The eyes glowed even redder out of the darkness of his visage. His face was utterly inhuman. It seemed to contain both elements of reptiles and insects at the same time, mixed into something altogether dark and twisted. The large twinkling eyes were shaped like almonds. They contained no pupils, just a glaring red light. He had no visible nose, not even nostrils. He had tiny hornlike protrusions at his temples and his skin was hard and gleamed like the shell of a beetle. The center of his face was sort of sunk in so that it formed a circular depression running down from the eyes and ending at its mouth, which was flanked by two mandibles. The mouth was lipless and lined with rows of sharp teeth. The mandibles skittered and moved when he talked.
Although Daggoth was truly fearsome, with his full armor on he had had a semblance of grace and elegance along with his might. Now with his helm off, he appeared truly nightmarish and utterly grotesque. He opened his fanged mouth and began to bring his head close to Jack’s neck to suck out his blood.
Neither had noticed Faine crawling feebly towards them, her brain feeling like it had been between the hammer and anvil. Now she summoned up all of her will and forced herself to leap up on Daggoth’s back, gripping her mace with a hand on each end and reached over bringing it down and under Daggoth’s neck. He made an odd choking noise in surprise and then gagged as Faine pulled back on the mace with both hands choking Daggoth with its handle. Daggoth stood shock still at first but quickly dropped Jack as his survival instincts kicked in. He tried at first to reach around with his arms and grab Faine but it was no use, his large frame betrayed him as his arms were too large and thick to reach his back. Daggoth gurgled in frustration and struggle as he wheeled about, his vision fading. Then he had a simple idea. He got a hold of himself even as his mind was going insane for lack of air and then proceeded to leap back in the air, pulling a belly flop, only the other way so that his back was aimed to the floor. His intent was obvious; he would crush Faine’s frail elven body under his massive frame and kill her before she killed him. He crashed down to the ground heavily, dust rising from the impact. He could barely even feel Faine underneath him through his thick armor.
Of course, he hadn’t really thought this through, just because Faine was dead didn’t help him out with the mace. Its handle was still putting extreme tension on his bare neck, whether Faine was dead or not, and now he couldn’t get up due to the massive weight of his armor. He would have roared in supreme anger if he had had any air in his lungs. He could not die here! To fail his master at the hands of puny humans would be pathetic, what shame it would be! He hadn’t wanted to flee but it seemed he had no choice. Just as the dark embrace of death was seeping into his vision he summoned his personal portal and whisked away from the battered mercenaries, his discarded helm and the sword lying a few feet away from Faine.
Jack was dying swiftly, and he knew he had to get out a potion before he collapsed. Each of the Gringo mercenaries carried 10 high potions and 5 regular potions with them on missions. He fumbled about weakly for one of the ones in his pack and finally found it. Feeling darkness clouding his vision, he drank the high potion down in one massive gulp before death could claim him. After a few seconds he felt deep relief as the pain in his chest ceased and the bloody line healed over. He felt some of his bruises ease away as well as he brought out another high potion going over to Faine.
“Ah crap this looks bad,” he said quietly as he rushed over to her crumpled body. She resembled a broken doll that had been cast aside by a thoughtless child. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes closed. That might be good, Jack thought, after all don’t people’s eyes remain open when they die? Her armor had barely held out against the mighty combined weight of Daggoth and his own armor. It was bent and cracked in some places, wholly warped in others. Jack lifted her chin, carefully, and poured the draught of healing potion down her throat gently. Nothing seemed to happen. Now fearing for the worst, Jack hurriedly started unscrewing another potion bottle. It took four healing potions before Faine’s face lost its pallid color of death and she made any sign of living. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up weakly. She looked around a bit, and remembered the battle as her eyes ran across the black helm on the floor.
“I can’t believe I survived when that thing's body slammed me,” she said, sounding shaken. Jack gave her a relieved smile.
“If you hadn’t pulled off that stunt, I’d be dead right now,” he said. “Or worse,” he added with a dark expression.
“So, was that thing a vampire of some sort?” asked Faine, returning back to her commanding tone.
“I think so; it said it wanted to drink my blood. But…whether it was a vamp or not it was sure as hell creepy looking,” he said shuddering at the memory of its face. “It almost seemed even worse than a demon; I’ve never seen anything like it.” Faine looked stared at him contemplatively and then she remembered Lune. She quickly turned and gasped as she saw Lune’s petrified body. She and Jack walked up to the beautiful statue that was Lune. Jack looked at her, horrified.
“Is she…dead?” he asked of Faine.
“No, she’s just turned to stone. Thank the gods I carry a few of these myself on every mission,” She answered. She then took out some ordinary looking dust and sprinkled it on Lune. Gradually at first, and then faster, her stony complexion turned back to skin and she returned to normality. Lune could only remember the battle up onto where she had been petrified by Daggoth’s dark magic.
“I’m sorry; if I had blocked his spell in time then you two might not have come so close to dying,” said Lune somberly. Faine eyed her with exasperation.
“It’s alright Lune; none of us expected a big beefy warrior like that to know some magic as well. The main thing is that we’re all ok. If that thing comes back well…I’m not sure if we could take it on again and live. So if it comes at us again I want us three to split up and run for it, no sense in all of us dying.” Jack and Lune nodded in acceptance of Faine’s plan. They set out for the tower again, at a faster pace than before.
In his high tower sat Kassad, watching the mercenaries through a blood-red orb/crystal ball thing that sat before him. He was interrupted from his amusement at Khas and his party trying to get through the maze of passages in the second floor of the castle by Daggoth’s abrupt teleportation. The ebony knight had taken care to recover himself and retrieve his helmet before reporting to his master. Although he was normally intimidating and fierce, Daggoth seemed to sag and quail as Kassad turned his eyes on him.
“My deepest apologies master, I was unable to capture the mercenaries as you requested…” he trailed off as Kassad motioned that he wished for silence.
“Yes I saw everything. You need not fear my wrath, Daggoth,” he said soothingly. “You fought with all your usual ferocity and skill, but it seems the warriors for hire got lucky.” Daggoth nodded vigorously in assent.
“I will go back now master! And this time I shall not fail,” he said, his eyes burning with rage as he uttered the word fail. Kassad was already shaking his head though.
“No, that will not be necessary. Their companions will be here soon, and so will those three. I want you here in case they prove even more skillful than they have already shown themselves to be. I suspect the other three will arrive soon enough as well. I shall summon my special guard unit as well, though hopefully they will not be needed.” Daggoth bowed reverently and turned towards the door, waiting patiently as ever.
Chapter 8: The Dungeons
Zale had made his way down the long ancient staircase and now stood in a tiny room filled with dust. A single forbidding door stood in front of him, and it creaked loudly as he pushed it open warily. The dungeons that Zale entered were totally encapsulated in darkness, and the only source of light was his torch. Several passages lie before him, and Zale had no idea which route he should take. Zale remembered from earlier when he had glanced at the castle map for a second that the dungeons stretched the entire length of the castle like an enormous labyrinth. He thought deeply for several moments. He didn’t want to become lost in the dungeons. For one thing, he needed to find and slay Hazadriel as soon as possible so that he could rejoin his companions in the mission. He had faith in their skill, but he knew just how powerful of a fighter he was and how much stronger his company would be alongside him. There were other reasons as well.
Although he had lit a torch, he felt a tiny, nearly insignificant tinge of fear after separating from his comrades. Certainly it was nothing now, and the torch was keeping the mist at bay. But who truly knew how the mist acted? Perhaps one needed the presence of friends as well as illumination to keep the mist from invading his mind? Zale dearly hoped not, but he was increasingly beginning to think so. Also, he had no idea what secrets or abominations might lie down in these dungeons. Zale did believe in ghosts. Not because he was a childish ninny but because he had actually fought with spirits before and knew that some remained to haunt the places of their death. He had no wish to meet any such spirits down here in these dank, sinister dungeons. And finally, there was the simple fear of never getting back out of the dungeons once he became lost. What if he fought tooth and nail through endless hordes of monsters, and then defeated the demon Hazadriel, only to wander forsakenly throughout the dungeons until he died?
Zale shook his head, trying to think of some way to keep track of his location. Suddenly he had an idea. He remembered an old tale he had heard where a hero brought a ball of yarn with him into a maze and simply followed its trail he had laid out to escape after rescuing some maiden or something like that. His idea was similar, but vastly different. He had no string…but he did have Khas’ blood vials! He took out one and uncapped it a little so that it would slowly dribble out small droplets of blood. He had a limited supply though, so he made sure to only spill some blood every 4-5 steps. He made his way into the dungeon, confidant in his ability.
He walked past numerous skeletons that were chained in shackles, encountered various offices, torture chambers, prison cells, and some armories. He did not encounter a single living thing as he made his way, which unnerved him even more so. He kept imagining things creeping in the shadowy fog outside his torchlight, and also thought he heard scuttling noises or whispers, but whenever he investigated there was nothing there. Every once in a great while he would hear either an enormous clanking sound or an echoing scrape in the distance, like some great hulking monstrosity was scuffing its feet along the floor as it shuffled about. He had no idea what that could be, and didn’t bother to ever head towards the sounds.
He would have definitely become utterly lost had he not been sprinkling a trail of blood. Several times he stumbled upon his trail, showing that he had blundered backwards. Finally after much guessing and bumbling about the maze of rooms and corridors, he came to a large room that seemed more imposing than the others. As he walked into it he noticed there were various barred cells that lined the walls of the room. He saw nothing but darkness in any of them, and began to walk towards the only other exit in the room. As he neared the door-less opening, a cackling voice suddenly rang out and stony walls sealed off both exits simultaneously.
“Hello Zale!” cried out the voice of Hazadriel. “So glad you accepted my party invitation, things were starting to get boring down in this dreary hellhole.” Zale whirled around and looked everywhere, but could not see Hazadriel.
“Show yourself!” commanded Zale, drawing his katana, which emanated a faint white glow.
“Hahahahahaha, why Zale?” answered Hazadriel. “Are you scared of the dark? Do you need me to hold your hand? Hahahahahahahahahahaha!” he laughed maniacally as if he had made a hilarious joke.
“Pah, it is you who are the coward! Afraid to show yourself because you know I’ll slay you, no doubt,” answered Zale angrily. More raucous laughter echoed around the room.
“Oh Zale, Zale, Zale. You are only halfway to our meeting ground, which is in the center of the dungeons. No my good Zale I do not deign to fight you yet. Instead, I’m going to give you a little warm up, to make sure you’ll give me a good fight. Meet some of the lord Kassad’s prisoners, Zale,” he said. And with that mysterious last sentence Hazadriel’s presence left the room, his laughter still echoing off the walls weakly. Zale could guess that he was going to have to fight, and raised his sword, taking a stance near the exit he wished to use, placing his back to the wall.
Without further wait Zale found out what Hazadriel had in store for him. The cells lining the entire room suddenly clanked open, and naked, half-starved humanoid beings rushed out to surround him. Zale raised his sword towards them threateningly but they didn’t make a move right away. They all walked on all fours, like animals, and were pathetically skinny. They wobbled and tottered weakly as they gazed at Zale, fanged mouths hanging open. Apparently they were vampires whom Kassad had seen fit to lock down here without any food. The lack of blood, Zale mused, had most likely driven them all to bloodlust and insanity by now. For a few seconds they simply gazed at Zale hungrily, and Zale looked back at them stoically. As one they suddenly seethed forward at Zale, mouths open and hunger in their eyes. Although their numbers were superior to Zale and they fought with abandon, they were disarmed and Zale had his blade. He cut them down mercilessly, the pathetic creatures not even using any tactics at all to attack him, simply charging.
However, Zale soon found that their overwhelming numbers were pressing in on him; soon he would be in serious risk of being bitten! Zale used his innate drow magic to summon a globe of true darkness around him. He had trained himself to fight without the need of sight, and was able to slash the mad vampires to ribbons with supreme ease as they blindly stumbled into the darkness. As if they did not know, or did not care, about the danger of entering that sphere of darkness the vampires continued to rush blindly into it, not even coming close to finding Zale.
Finally the battle, or slaughter rather, was over. Dead vampires lay strewn all about Zale’s position, and the exits opened again. Zale did not regret slaying the vampires, even though he had had the supreme advantage. He felt he had done them justice by releasing them from their tormented states. He continued onward, and the fear was growing within him. He looked at his torch and noticed it was starting to get low. He took out another and lit it. Only two more now, and I still have to get out of these damned dungeons when I’m done, he thought morosely. The brighter torch light helped cease the growth of the insane fear at the back of his mind, but did nothing to erase it.
Finally the battle, or slaughter rather, was over. Dead vampires lay strewn all about Zale’s position, and the exits opened again. Zale did not regret slaying the vampires, even though he had had the supreme advantage. He felt he had done them justice by releasing them from their tormented states. He continued onward, and the fear was growing within him. He looked at his torch and noticed it was starting to get low. He took out another and lit it. Only two more now, and I still have to get out of these damned dungeons when I’m done, he thought morosely. The brighter torch light helped cease the growth of the insane fear at the back of his mind, but did nothing to erase it.
He found himself plunged into the myriad of corridors once more, and with a sigh started off in a random direction. For another 10 minutes or so he wandered around the dungeons. The mysterious noises he had heard off in the distance had faded, but now his vision began to prick in between what was reality and what was fear. Every minute or so a blip would sound in his mind and his vision would change to a subtly darker and more sinister set of dungeons, and he would sometimes see gruesome things, other times only flitting shadows. He disregarded what he saw when this happened. Now that he knew that the images were not real, he did not succumb to them nearly as much as he had when he first encountered the crimson mist. But who knew how long his courage would hold out alone in these dank, dark dungeons…
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At the same time Khas and his party were making their way in earnest. Even with the map the maze of corridors on the second floor proved to be difficult to navigate. Khas had begun to suspect some tricky magic was involved. They had encountered no more resistance, and Khas was glad for it. Having had enough of wandering through these corridors and getting lost despite the clearness of the map, Khas held up a hand and stopped. His party stopped with him. He turned to Alden.
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At the same time Khas and his party were making their way in earnest. Even with the map the maze of corridors on the second floor proved to be difficult to navigate. Khas had begun to suspect some tricky magic was involved. They had encountered no more resistance, and Khas was glad for it. Having had enough of wandering through these corridors and getting lost despite the clearness of the map, Khas held up a hand and stopped. His party stopped with him. He turned to Alden.
“I believe there is some magic here that is making things harder than they should be. Can you detect any?” he asked. Alden uttered a short spell and gazed about the room, his eyes glowing a faint green. After looking all about him he turned and shook his head.
“I see nothing of magical emanation,” he said hopelessly. Khas maintained his undaunted facial expression but worried on the inside. They had been navigating the castle for almost an hour, and they should have arrived at the central tower entrance by now. An idea came to Khas.
“Alden, I want you to maintain your spell of detection and keep an eye out as we continue to try and navigate the corridors.” Alden nodded. They made their way, going by an area that Khas swore they had past at least 3 times. Looking at the map, Khas led them to the point where the grand spiral stairwell to the high tower was supposed to be. All that greeted them was another hazy red corridor. Khas swore in frustration, when suddenly Alden said,
“Ah-hah! Right in front of us Khas!” Khas stared at the grinning Alden questioningly.
“What is? What do you mean?” asked Khas. Alden continued to grin with self-pleasure at figuring it out.
“It’s really quite simple. The entrance to this vampire lord’s den lies right in front of us. There are two magical presences there that have caused us so much confusion. The first is an illusionary spell that makes us see yet another long hallway, when in reality this is a dead end and the stairwell is right there! The reason we don’t bump into it is that just before it is a magical portal that teleports us to the beginning of the corridors without us feeling or realizing it. Simple, yet clever, that.”
“Oh,” was all Khas could say in surprise. “Ahem, well then let’s finally meet this vamp we’ve got to kill. Can you undo the spells?” Alden frowned and thought for a moment as he examined the enchantments only he could see.
“Hmmmmmm…I think so. It is very difficult magic to break and has numerous defensive spells placed about it. But I believe I can undo this,” he said finally. He began to go to work on the enchantments, taking his time and thinking hard before trying out anything. Eventually he proclaimed the portal banished and then the hallway was replaced by a grand stairwell that twisted high up above them as he then undid the illusion.
“Good work Alden. Alright everyone it’s time to face the vampire we’ve come here to kill,” he said. He strode to the staircase and led his party upwards. The stairwell was incredibly tall, and Khas was about to ask Alden to do another magical scan when they finally reached the end. Before them stood a door with a magnificent crimson pattern upon it. It lured the eye this way and that, but they didn’t stop to examine the artwork. Pushing the doors open roughly, the mercenaries bounded into the room, weapons drawn. The central tower chamber was shaped like a barely elliptical circle. High tear shaped windows surrounded the room, bathing it in crimson-stained sunlight. Some bookshelves lined parts of the room, filled with musty tomes and spell-books of ancient times. A voluminous desk lay furthest away from them, lined with odd devices, ink, paper, and several more books.
The most curious item of all was a perfectly round crimson orb that floated high up above them suspended in the air. It was shrouded in particularly thick crimson mist, and seemed to be cause of the crimson blight that infected the castle and the town. A large comfy-looking chair was behind the desk, but its owner was not sitting on it. On the slightly higher floor that the desk lay on was an individual who was entirely red, except for his pale skin. His eyes were pure blood-red along with crimson pupils. His hair was a more vibrant red, and it was long and straight like a woman’s. His sorcerer’s robes that he wore were a bright shade of red that would have clashed violently with his pallid skin, if much of it had been showing. His boots were a dark crimson, nearly black but not quite so. He had no facial hair other than his eyebrows and eyelashes. His teeth were impeccably clean and sparkling white as he opened his mouth in a warm smile. The vampire was definitely a mage, slight of build and without the musculature of a warrior. He was standing to the left of the desk, on the mercenaries’ right. Just behind him and slightly to the side stood the ebony knight, Daggoth. His breath steamed out of his helm in the brisk air that flooded the tower.
“Ahhh yes you have finally arrived. My guests! I am Kassad, The Bringer of Eternal Night and the keeper of the Blood-Crystal,” he said giving them a mocking bow. His voice was deep and resonant, and pleasing to the ears as well. “I suppose you have come here to kill me. Ah yes, mortals such as yourselves always go about with such mundane objectives. I am above that, as are all vampires. They say we are cursed, but we are blessed with eternal life. If you are here to kill me then you won’t mind me doing this,” as he said that he nodded at the doorway and another such crimson wall as the one they had encountered earlier appeared. “Before you attack me, we have much to discuss. You are all of great talent, and would it not be an utter waste if I was to destroy you here and now?” Suddenly Alden spoke up, interrupting Kassad.
“You are quite arrogant. You said it yourself, we’ve got talent and I happen to think we’re going to wipe the floor with you,” he said angrily. Kassad nodded indulgently.
“Yes, yes I did say that. But talent will get you only so far. I have lived for over a thousand years, 1562 to be precise, and I tell you now that I make no mistakes and certainly never lose. It has been some time since I have had any truly challenging opponents. I have many enemies, vampires who band together hoping to destroy me and obtain the legendary Blood-Crystal. I have already destroyed any and all foes that actually stood a chance of defeating me long ago. And so now I wile away the days recruiting more soldiers into my armies at towns such as this one. Of course, powerful warriors such as you are a much, much nicer catch than mere villagers. There is no reason to resist. I will turn you no matter what, and if you fight me then you simply stand the risk of dying.”
“Pah, I’ve already been turned so your words are meaningless to me,” said Khas bitterly. “Now then if you’re through giving us a history lesson, how about we get through with this already?” But Kassad, apparently, was not through talking just yet. As he looked upon Khas his eyes lighted in interest and, strangely, recognition.
“Ah yes I have been awaiting you with most anticipation,” he said, his eyes gleaming. Khas looked surprised and Kassad continued. “You don’t remember me do you? Of course not, it was a dark night and my attack was chaotic. I’m sure you remember the bar at least? The screaming as I tore into the throats of the others? I remember you stabbing me right through the heart and in the back of the spine; of course the blades weren’t silver though.” Now Khas’ eye’s dawned with comprehension.
“You were the vampire that bit me! The vampire that made my life a living hell and turned me into a blood-drinking fiend!!” yelled Khas, his face contorting with rage. Kassad merely smiled and nodded his head.
“Yes Khas it was I. Unfortunately I had to flee from that particular hunt quite quickly and you escaped me before I could recruit you into my legion. Unfortunate, if I had only known how great of an assassin you were…ah well you are here now nonetheless. I see the rage trembling in your limbs and your eyes. But I suggest you contain it a moment longer, for I have much more to say. My greatest achievement has been and always will be the creation of the Blood Crystal you see floating above you. It is a shining orb comprised of the blood and souls of my enemies, followers, and even myself. It has wondrous powers, such as the blood mist that plagues this land. The Blood Crystal is capable of creating this mist that blots out the sun enough so that we vampires do not have to fear it. Indeed, the mist strengthens vampires. Another great thing that it does is give me ultimate control over my minions. I created the blood crystal originally with 10 souls, 5 of my enemies, 4 of my followers, and my own soul. Because I am near it at all times I still exhibit my soul and retain it. However, anyone else’s soul I wish to put into the Blood Crystal gets erased permanently. The souls of my followers have allowed me to have absolute control over any of my followers who put their blood into the crystal. The souls of my enemies allowed for me to have absolute control over those whom I turned by force and also gave blood unwillingly to the crystal. Mine own is necessary for me to have this control at all."
"Over the years my power has rose so that blood is no longer required. As long as I have tasted the blood of an individual I can now control them after they have fully turned to a vampire. And this expands to those they bite as well, although I have much more difficulty controlling them than one whose blood I have tasted directly. And now here you are Khas, delivered at long last unto me. You have the potential to become as powerful a guard as my servant here, 'Daggoth'. Khas began to step towards Kassad, killing daggers drawn. Kassad smiled and then said, “Enough of that Khas. I wish for you to slay one of your comrades who stands before you. The one dearest to your heart.” Khas abruptly stopped moving, his muscles twitching as he tried to keep going towards Kassad. Kassad narrowed his eyes and, raising his hand in Khas’ direction, said “Come now Khas. Obey me!” Khas finally stopped struggling and his eyes filled with a dreamy calm. He turned on the spot, slowly, and walked just as slowly to Krista. She could not believe what was happening. He came close to her, holding one hand extended towards her throat.
“Khas stop this madness! You don’t have to be his slave, fight it!” she cried desperately as he stalked ever so slowly. His eyes remained dreamily unconcerned and he kept walking. “Khas, please, don’t do this! I beg of you Khas!” He ignored her and reached out to grasp her neck, but not strangling her. Her eyes filled with tears at this utter betrayal. “Khas…please….I love you!” gasped Krista. She thought she saw a spark of recognition in Khas’ eyes, but he still ignored her, opening his mouth to show his large fangs.
As he began to lower his head to her neck, she came up with an idea. It was dangerous, and if it didn’t work she had forsaken any defense or hope of getting away from Khas. Before he could bite her neck, she lunged forward, pressing her lips upon his mouth in a hard passionate kiss. Khas seemed to recoil but Krista kept at it. Finally she pulled away, her expression anxious. Khas stared at her for a moment, his mouth agape in surprise but his eyes emotionless. Kassad stared at the scene with mirth, shaking his head at the woman’s folly. Khas then raised his hand holding a silver throwing knife and made to stab Krista.
“Yes! Obey my command, destroy her!” cried out Kassad in frenzied excitement. Khas plunged the knife down at Krista’s throat, but at the last second turned and threw it with deadly precision at Kassad. With a soft plunging sound the blade imbedded itself through Kassad’s chest and directly into his heart. Kassad reeled backward, his mouth agape and his eyes wide in shock. Even Daggoth, for the moment, seemed too rocked with shock to move a muscle.
“H-how could this be?” said Kassad, gazing in wonder at the hilt of the knife sticking out of his chest. Slowly the flesh around it withered and turned to ash. The process began to spread outward throughout his body. Just when it seemed he would fully burn to ashes, however, the Blood Crystal emitted a soft “ping!” and began to emanate with ruby-red light pulsations. Gradually Kassad’s flesh returned to normal, the skin rejuvenating downward to the center of the wound. As soon as it had healed fully the knife popped out and fell to the floor at Kassad’s feet. A grin full of malice and supreme confidence slowly replaced his shocked features. He laughed loudly, and had to force himself to stop in order to speak again.
“Why, what a surprise. Never have I seen an individual who could disobey my command after I have tasted their blood. Even with the wench’s assistance it was truly a worthy feat. Heheheheheheh. Did you truly think this,” he indicated the silver knife “would kill me? Ah yes of course, I have not yet explained the Blood Crystal’s ultimate abilities. Of course you all know that vampires are blessed with eternal life, but we are not invincible. We can be killed by certain means. I however, have defeated even that which always claims those of this world, the all-too human future; Death. By investing enough blood of mine throughout the ages, along with countless gallons from my foes and allies alike, the Blood Crystal has gained the ability of revival. Ultimate revival. Even had I died far away from it, or been blasted apart by the sun, the Crystal contains my essence and can resurrect me an infinite amount of times. I told you that I defeated any vampires that stood a chance long ago. In truth some were actually able to defeat and slay me. But imagine their surprise, when I reappeared to challenge them again, mere days later! Yes, now you see it don’t you? I am INVINCIBLE! Even if you can destroy me, it will be to no avail!! So why not make it easy on yourselves? Avoid any pain and hardship and simply become my allies. What do you say?”
None of the mercenaries made to join Kassad, and they all glared at him. Suddenly his eyes focused on Krista with an intense curiosity. “Hmmm, wait a second…I believe I recognize this red-haired woman. Ah yessss…this shall prove quite interesting.” It was Krista’s turn to look surprised, as she had never met Kassad in her life. He mumbled some sort of spell and a couple of forms suddenly appeared alongside him. They were vampires, a female with long dark hair and a man who had short-cropped red hair. The woman had an indignant expression on her face as she turned to face Kassad.
“My master, I have the utmost respect for you but what is the meaning of summoning us so abruptly during our mission for you?!” As she said this, a slight amount of apprehension mixed with her anger, as if she immediately dreaded the words that had spouted out of her mouth. Kassad did not look unpleased though. He instead looked quite amused.
“Although I need not, I apologize for summoning you both so rudely. I have an interesting turn of events to present you both. Look amongst these individuals before me and see if you recognize any of them…” Krista was gaping at the two vampires, and she took a few awestruck steps towards them.
“M-mother?” she asked hesitantly. “And father? Is it truly you?” The vampire woman glared at Krista and after looking her up and down spoke once more.
“Ah yes, I can barely remember you. Pity you couldn’t join us.” She said, her visage filling with malice.
“Ah do you not see it Sonya? She has indeed joined us just recently. Look deep into her eyes,” said Kassad sagely.
“Ah yes! They are blood-red! Come now dear and join your family,” said Sonya extending a hand towards Krista. Her father, too, stepped forward.
“Please Krista; it is not a bad life. We have all the riches and power we could ever need, as well as eternity,” he said beseechingly. Krista, her lips slightly parted in wonder, walked up to her parents and reached a hand out to her mother’s. She touched it, and then suddenly drew her rapier and slashed her mother’s head clean off. It burned away to ash before it hit the floor and the body followed suit. She quickly pivoted and stabbed her father through the heart as he hissed in surprise. Kassad looked disappointed yet still highly amused at his sick little joke
“Well I must admit I did not think you would be of such hard spirit, miss Krista,” he said, sounding impressed. “You slew your parents just like that; I must confess I thought you would defer to them and join us.”
“They were vampires, not the parents I knew and loved. You utterly destroyed them long ago. Those were dark, twisted versions of them, and I would slay them multiple times if needed. I will slay you as well, Lord Kassad.” Kassad’s grin faded.
“You presume much young lady. Well then I guess we had better get started. Daggoth? Do what you do best.” With that Daggoth launched himself liked an armored missile past Kassad and at the mercenaries and Kassad began to chant a spell. The chaos that would follow soon had only just begun.
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After what seemed like ages of searching Zale found what definitely had to be the center of the dungeons. Magnificent doors stood before him on this direction he had taken, and he opened them up. Before him was an incredibly large room that was not clothed in darkness. The entire room was suffused with an orange-red glow, different from the color of the mist. The room seemed somehow free of mist, and as Zale entered he felt his fear melt away. He looked about the room and noticed it appeared to be a sort of coliseum. Rows of seats lay upon the amphitheater that rose above the rest of the room. Obviously this place must have been a place where the king’s nobles and subjects could gather to watch the prisoners fight to the death in that central ring, Zale mused. After all the floor was tinged with ruddy stains that must have been ages old blood. The center of the room was a wide circular platform that rose above a chasm that surrounded it and was also circular. There were four walkways connecting the center platform to the rest of the room. The ruddy glow that illuminated the room appeared to be coming from the chasm. Zale stepped closer and was bewildered at the sight of nothing less than lava in the chasm!
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After what seemed like ages of searching Zale found what definitely had to be the center of the dungeons. Magnificent doors stood before him on this direction he had taken, and he opened them up. Before him was an incredibly large room that was not clothed in darkness. The entire room was suffused with an orange-red glow, different from the color of the mist. The room seemed somehow free of mist, and as Zale entered he felt his fear melt away. He looked about the room and noticed it appeared to be a sort of coliseum. Rows of seats lay upon the amphitheater that rose above the rest of the room. Obviously this place must have been a place where the king’s nobles and subjects could gather to watch the prisoners fight to the death in that central ring, Zale mused. After all the floor was tinged with ruddy stains that must have been ages old blood. The center of the room was a wide circular platform that rose above a chasm that surrounded it and was also circular. There were four walkways connecting the center platform to the rest of the room. The ruddy glow that illuminated the room appeared to be coming from the chasm. Zale stepped closer and was bewildered at the sight of nothing less than lava in the chasm!
What’s next? Thought Zale. A moat filled with crocodiles? Well, actually he hoped not because he had had to assault a castle with one of those in a mission once, and it was actually a lot harder than you’d think. He saw Hazadriel in the center of the platform, apparently having had enough dramatic entrances for the time being. Zale walked towards Hazadriel, alert for the walkway to suddenly crumble or some other trap to activate. To his surprise, no such traps occurred as he walked to the platform to meet Hazadriel. Hazadriel must have noticed his caution, for he said,
“Ah Zale did you really think I’d try a dirty trick on you? I mean I know I’m a demon, but I’m better than that! Besides, destroying you was never my true intention…” he said trailing off. Zale was taken aback. Then what the hell was the demon’s intention?! Zale decided to ask him that very question. Hazadriel smirked…well he was already smirking so I guess he didn’t really do anything but start talking again. “Ah yes I bet you’re wondering just why I went through all of this trouble,” said Hazadriel, preparing to embark on a HUGE monologue. “I have already told you that the drow boy Arrkmed was unsuitable for me to unlock most of my power on this plane of existence. As you might or might not know, we demons find it difficult to bring most of our power along with us when we traverse from the Nine Hells to the mortal plane. That is precisely why we have not already invaded your pathetic world and conquested your nations. Of course there are some powerful demons that have been able to gain a firm foothold into this plane. That is often the reason behind the more sinister and dark areas of your world. I am one of these demons Zale. Er, I will be soon! I have seen the amazing skill and strength you show with a blade, and I am certain that if I was to inhabit your body I would regain much of the power I have in the Nine Hells. I simply said I wanted vengeance because I knew both you and your friends would believe such a reason.
"Zale, I respect you above all other mortals. If you let me share your body, I will leave you a degree of control. Think about it Zale. We working in harmony…my demonic invulnerability and unholy strength combined with your flawless skill and amazing will. We would be unrivaled and could defeat any foe in combat! You have a chance to become an unholy king, with me of course, and to go on conquest over the other nations. We could do anything, Zale, anything at all.” Zale was nonplussed at this speech.
“You….are truly an idiot. I will never allow such a sickening being as thyself enter in unholy symbiosis with my body! Do you think I want to rule over an empire, to share in ‘glory’ and ‘conquest?!’ No, I totally refuse your offer, now die!” yelled Zale, drawing his sword and attacking Hazadriel in a blur of motion. Hazadriel was not totally surprised at Zale’s reaction, but hadn’t expected him to attack so quickly! Zale rushed by the demon, slashing a cut across his torso and right shoulder as he did so. Hazadriel cried out in pain and surprise, and then summoned roiling flames between himself and Zale to keep the enraged mercenary captain from performing such an attack again. The demon’s face was twisted in anger, but he quickly regained control over himself and talked to Zale once more, his voice serious and losing all trace of its former cackle.
“Zale, please, think about the opportunities! Do you really wish to spend your days as some stupid mercenary, achieving nothing in particular and finally dying after many years? Or wouldn’t you rather make history, etch yourself in the fabric of time so that your name is remembered throughout the ages. If you join me Zale, that is what we shall accomplish. Nay, we will not merely etch our names into history, we will transcend history! What do you say now Zale?”
“I say your temptations mean nothing to me and that you are an utter fool!” retorted Zale, his face still angry. At this the demon became livid.
“I offer you true immortality, the leadership of a demonic army, the conquest of nations, and the chance to be remembered throughout all of time, yet you still refuse my offer?!” Hazadriel sputtered indignantly. “You are insolent Zale, insolent and ignorant as well. I could just as easily have snuck upon you as you were making your way here and assimilated your body, but I respected you and thought you might see my way of thinking. I shall ask you once and only once more, Zale. Will you join me in my dark conquest?” Hazadriel’s voice had resumed a civil tone as he said this, and he held out his hand towards Zale dramatically. Zale spat upon it, the spit sizzling and evaporating as soon as it touched its target. Even so, Hazadriel took much offense at the gesture and swept his hand in front of him and to the side, a red long-sword appearing in his hand out of nowhere as he did so.
“So be it Zale. When I run this blade through you and then assimilate myself into you, I will give you no chance as I said before. I will totally destroy any remnants of your soul and your body, as well as its talents, shall be mine! Although I could gain more power from the presence of your soul, I think I’d rather like to see your soul truly and utterly dead!” After saying this, he raised his blade in front of him horizontally. He ran his hand down the length of the blade, magically induced flames appearing along the sword as he did so. He held it at his side again and banished the wall of flames separating himself and Zale, shouting “Prepare yourself, mortal!” A different set of flames rose up to encircle the perimeter of the platform, forming a tornado of fire that churned around the combatants, neatly sealing off any hope of escape for Zale.
Chapter 9: Fated Showdown and a Bag of Chips
Zale immediately rushed towards Hazadriel and Hazadriel did the same towards Zale. They flew by each other, the only hint of battle being a loud clang as their swords met as they flew past each other. They pivoted and began a furious battle of swords and strength. Zale was like lighting, fast and powerful, but Hazadriel always seemed to parry his rapid swings and thrusts at exactly the right time. Zale leaped into the air and brought his katana down on Hazadriel’s fiery long sword. They locked blades against each other, both putting pressure into their blades. Hazadriel was dismayed to see that the flames from his sword leap to Zale to burn him, only to dissipate just before reaching him. Zale smiled. One of the many enchantments put upon his katana caused an invisible shield around its user and dissipated offensive magic aimed at the user. Thus Hazadriel’s enflamed sword, which would usually send out flames to burn away an enemy anywhere close to the sword, failed to incinerate Zale. Hazadriel actually managed another insane grin.
Chapter 9: Fated Showdown and a Bag of Chips
Zale immediately rushed towards Hazadriel and Hazadriel did the same towards Zale. They flew by each other, the only hint of battle being a loud clang as their swords met as they flew past each other. They pivoted and began a furious battle of swords and strength. Zale was like lighting, fast and powerful, but Hazadriel always seemed to parry his rapid swings and thrusts at exactly the right time. Zale leaped into the air and brought his katana down on Hazadriel’s fiery long sword. They locked blades against each other, both putting pressure into their blades. Hazadriel was dismayed to see that the flames from his sword leap to Zale to burn him, only to dissipate just before reaching him. Zale smiled. One of the many enchantments put upon his katana caused an invisible shield around its user and dissipated offensive magic aimed at the user. Thus Hazadriel’s enflamed sword, which would usually send out flames to burn away an enemy anywhere close to the sword, failed to incinerate Zale. Hazadriel actually managed another insane grin.
“Heh, I knew you’d be too good to defeat so easily. Looks like this will be only a battle of swords.” With that, he put a sudden burst of strength against Zale’s sword, sending him skidding back. As Zale went into a defensive stance, Hazadriel drew his hand across his long sword, extinguishing the flames.
The combatants circled each other, measuring up his opponent. Then, without further adieu, they went at it. Both seemed generally equal in fighting prowess. Zale was a masterful swordsman and had amazing speed and reflexes. Hazadriel could not hope to match Zale in skill or speed, but he made up for this with his unholy strength and demonic vigor. For the most part, Zale dodged Hazadriel’s strikes while Hazadriel was always able to block Zale’s venerable attacks in just the nick of time. For awhile the battle continued on like this, the two seemingly able to go on for eternity. Finally, Zale actually landed another hit on Hazadriel. The demon cried out in pain from the blow, but it was not a serious injury. Zale’s enchanted katana seemed able to pierce the demon’s unholy aura and hurt him. Soon enough Zale was able to land another deft blow to the demon’s torso. He howled not so much in pain this time, but in anger. For several more minutes Zale continued to hit Hazadriel with glancing blows while the demon was unable to hit the blur that was Zale. Finally Hazadriel, growling in frustration stepped back from Zale, whirling his sword about defensively to keep the agile drow swordsman away from him.
“Hmmmm…I should have known but it appears you have the upper hand on me when it comes to sword fighting,” Hazadriel said. “This calls for other measures of attack…heheheheheheheh…” he said, cackling once more. He held up his hand, and a portal appeared beside him, a hellish doorway wreathed by fire and smoke. He said something in a language that sounded utterly foul to Zale and beckoned to the doorway. Shapes flitted out, dark shadowy forms, and huddled around their summoner. Casting a suggestive (not sexually you pervert) glance at Zale, he once again intoned in a hellish language Zale could not understand. The shapes instantly began to transform when Hazadriel finished speaking. Zale could only guess what was happening, and then it became very clear to him.
“Y-you bastard!” he roared in outrage. The dark forms had finished their transformations. And what now stood before Zale were dark effigies of each and every one of the companions who had fought alongside Zale against the Shadokin. They were perfect representations of his former companions, yet their eyes were wholly pitch-black along with their clothing and complexion. He looked each of them in the face, but he shuddered when he looked into the soulless doppelganger that looked just like Louise. Even though he knew it was not Louise, he felt his resolve weakening at the sight of the one he had loved so long ago. Meanwhile, Hazadriel was laughing raucously as he saw Zale’s mortified expression.
“Bwahahahaha! What’s the matter, don’t you like them Zale?” he asked sardonically. “Yes, I do have the power to reanimate your dead friends. And now it’s one HELL of a party! The gang’s all here hahahahahahaha!” he said, laughing in gleeful malice.
“You’ve gone too far, Hazadriel. I’m going to make you pay for this defilement!” he shouted, swinging his sword through the air threateningly. Hazadriel didn’t look fazed though.
“Oh please Zale, I’m a freakin’ demon! I’m capable of everything and anything considered vile! And how are you going to kill me Zale, when you’re going to have to slay your beloved friends first!” As he said this he pointed his sword in Zale’s direction. The doppelgangers had all of the exact weapons his friends had held just before their deaths. Zale hesitated as Rannek, Balder, and Sparta charged at him, their soulless eyes devoid of emotion. But only for a second. As much as it pained him to hurt these things that so resembled his friends, his rationale kicked in and reminded him that they were just monsters and that they were going to kill him if he stood gawking. His visage turned cold and emotionless as he forced himself to slay the look-alikes of his dead friends. Rannek arrived first; swinging his blade down at Zale. Zale sidestepped it easily and slashed at Rannek without mercy, cutting him in half and chopping his head off in two quick swipes. Zale didn’t look longer than he had to and quickly moved to attack Balder and Sparta, a dangerous pair. Just as they arrived Selene began to fire arrows at him and Louise finished uttering a spell. A quarrel thudded into Zale’s chest, sticking into the armor but not penetrating it. At the same time thick fleshy vines sprouted from the ground at Zale’s feet, wrapping around his arms and legs and trapping him.
Zale tried desperately to shake off the vines, but could not escape them. Sparta and Balder reached him, both swinging with axes. Even shackled as he was by the vines, Zale was able to parry the blows. Zale drew a small dagger from a sheath at his waist and cut at the vines as he still parried deadly blows. With a huge effort, was able to rip free from the vines. Suddenly an arrow whooshed right by Zale’s face, and he felt a deafening explosion behind him. Exploding arrows. Zale went on the offensive, rushing towards Balder and Sparta. Balder swept his axe at Zale’s feet. Zale leapt onto the large surface of the axe blade and used it as a boost, launching himself into the air towards Sparta. Zale turned his blade so that it faced downward and put his right hand palm down upon the upturned handle, meaning to drive the katana downward in a killing fashion. Sparta looked up to see Zale just as he came down upon him. Zale’s blade imbedded into his chest as Zale landed feet-first upon the shadowy doppelganger. Sparta went down in a heap on his back, Zale’s katana sticking half-way through his chest. The thing quickly dissolved into black shadowstuff that dissipated away as Zale took out his blade and turned to face Balder. Zale ran at Balder but a shocking force of electrical energy stopped him in his tracks. Balder rushed forward and drove his axe downward at Zale. Zale managed to move just enough to parry the powerful strike. Zale then gritted his teeth at the pain the electricity was causing him and forced his muscles to move with a powerful force of will. He rushed by Balder, slashing at him as he went. Balder, too, faded into shadowy dust that dissipated in moments. He had darted so fast that the electrical spell had been left behind.
Another exploding arrow came at Zale and he batted it right back at Selene, deflecting it with such skill so that the explosive powder didn’t impact on his sword. The resulting explosion killed Selene’s doppelganger, and now there was only one left. Louise did not attack, however, but did something even worse to Zale. She knelt before him, exposing her neck for him to slash. Zale was horrified at the sight of one he had loved dearly doing such a thing. Then he remembered that Louise was dead. He raised his blade, hands shaking as he did so, and prepared to strike her down. He was interrupted by a sword suddenly protruding from his chest. Zale sputtered blood as he grimaced in pain. Blood dribbled from the sword, dripping to form a puddle on the floor. All Zale could do was gaze in shock at the sword as he felt himself dying. The long blade had reached so far that it had inadvertently stabbed into Louise as well, her form sifting away as she died. Hazadriel stood behind Zale, grinning triumphantly and laughing victoriously with his long sword stabbed through Zale all the way up to the hilt.
Zale could not believe it; he had been beaten by the putrid being. He had failed to avenge his friends, and he had failed the friends that were still living. If I’m going to die, I’m taking this wretch with me thought Zale, sudden anger filling his body in its final moments of living. With cold efficiency and a detached state of mind, Zale quickly took his blade and spun it so that it was facing downward again. He raised it high and before Hazadriel could finish him for good, stabbed it into and through his stomach. Hazadriel’s grin faded as the magical katana slipped into him, the tip of the blade barely protruding through his back. The demon gaped at this kamikaze maneuver. The demon put his foot on Zale’s back and pushed with what strength he had left so that the warriors were separated from their deadly embrace. Zale stumbled forward unto his knees; his katana still plunged into him. Hazadriel drifted backwards in a daze, the hole in his stomach dripping red magma-like blood and gore. He went down on both knees and grappled with what had just happened.
Zale took his katana out of his chest with a tight gasp of pain and quickly drew out a healing draught before he fainted from blood loss. He drank the last and most powerful of his elixirs, the magical potion fully restoring him and sealing up the two bloody punctures in him. His breathing returned to normal and he stood up shakily, turning to face his foe. The demon looked up as Zale suddenly rushed up to finish him. He rose into the air and came down at Hazadriel in the same fashion as he had at Sparta. Hazadriel’s face registered complete and almost pathetic surprise. However, the demon was able to leap away just before Zale reached him and take to the air, his wings unfolding and flapping in the air. The demon seemed to regain his voice and manic mentality.
“Rarrrrghhhh!!! I was so close! You were moments away from death, damn-it!” the demon fumed as he hovered in the air above Zale. Zale simply stared coldly at the demon, still numb and frozen with shock at his close brush with death. The demon seemed content to stay above and out of Zale’s reach, contemplating.
“Kassad!” he spoke to Kassad, using telepathy.
“Damn it, what do you want?! I’m a little busy at the moment,” Kassad thought back, his mind roiling with agitation.
“The drow is more powerful than I thought, much more powerful! I fear I may need assistance…” Kassad would have laughed and berated the demon for his weakness, if he hadn’t been banking on Hazadriel’s victory over Zale.
“Fine, I shall send you Daggoth, my greatest warrior. He is the only aid I can spare however, as I need my other soldiers for the ongoing battle.”
“My thanks Kassad, you shall not regret this! I promise you a mighty seat in my empire when this is done…”
“Just be quiet already and get the job done!” thought Kassad, closing the mental path of communication as soon as he had sent these last words. Kassad instantly opened up more telepathic communications. Several were with some of his top-ranking vampires and another with Daggoth. He gave commands to his various captains and then spoke to Daggoth.
“Daggoth, my mightiest servant, it is time to prove your full allegiance to me.” Daggoth continued to battle the skillful Krista, communicating with Kassad even as he did so.
“How can I be of assistance my lord?”
“I need you to teleport down into the coliseum and aid our ally Hazadriel.”
“But master, I cannot leave your side now-“
“Obey! I order you to go down there and help Hazadriel against the drow swordsman. If you truly do respect me, then you should know I am fully capable of taking care of myself without you Daggoth. You exist to serve me, now obey my command!” Daggoth remained silent for a moment.
“Yes master, your will is my command,” he thought finally, albeit reluctantly. Daggoth quickly activated his black hole teleportation field and teleported away from the surprised Krista. Khas was fighting Kassad, who was dodging his skillful strikes and launching powerful spells of destruction at Alden and Valandil all at the same time. Suddenly black-clothed vampires dropped from the shadows at the ceiling, entering the foray as soon as they landed. They all appeared eerily identical and had the same weapons and clothing. Each vampire ninja, for that is what they were, had a katana and was covered from head to toe in a tight-fitting black outfit. Only their glaring red eyes were visible. They attacked with supreme skill and unmatched speed, but lacked armor and strength. The mercenaries quickly found themselves fighting tooth and nail in a sea of enemies.
Meanwhile Hazadriel had been brooding in midair for quite a long time. Finally he seemed to come up with another tactic. He pointed a finger at Zale, and a foul black smoke emanated from his fingertip, racing towards Zale. It was impossible to dodge so Zale opted to brace himself for whatever was about to affect him. Suddenly he lost track of his surroundings, everything faded from sight as a rush of memories flooded his entire sight. He remembered the good times he had had with Marcus and Louise during his younger days. He remembered his parents. He remembered his dead companions. All of the memories that flashed before him were soaked with a feeling of utmost sadness and loss. Each memory was specifically one that reminded him of things that he had lost, memories made all the more despairing due to the happiness they had once radiated within him. He felt tears stirring within his eyes and he choked back a sob.
Suddenly the flitting memories winked away and he was returned once more to reality, which wasn’t looking so bright. Hazadriel was holding him up by the neck, but he didn’t appear like he was going to kill Zale. He plunged his right hand into Zale’s chest, and reality faded yet again. Zale did not see but felt the confrontation that occurred within him. He felt a foul presence, a blight upon his soul. Ah, that was it; he was in his soul now. The presence grew slowly at first, and then expanded with alarming speed. He knew that Hazadriel was taking over his body and soul, and that it was all over. Without even trying to, though, his being pushed back at Hazadriel’s dark presence. The dark blight instantly receded greatly but not entirely from his being. He somehow knew the presence was angry now, and it rose up in power greatly. The darkness surged forth across his soul, eating it up rapidly. Zale pushed back with all of his willpower this time and felt their souls struggling against each other; his own a shimmering ocean of light against a tide of inky shadow.
Finally his soul purged Hazadriel’s and they were both returned to normality. Hazadriel was shoved away from Zale with such force that he stumbled to the ground. Zale hit the ground hard, but managed to scramble on his feet. Hazadriel was giving Zale the most venomously hatred-filled glance ever. His eyes burned with rage and his fiery aura seethed about him in utmost agitation. But Zale saw something else amid the anger, and realized this fight was over. It was fear. Hazadriel’s eyes looked upon Zale with such fear and he seemed to regard Zale like a mortal would a god. Zale hefted his sword and, covering the ground between him and Hazadriel in no time stabbed it through Hazadriel’s heart. The demon made no sound, but its eyes widened in supreme shock and wonder.
“Glad that’s over,” said Zale. “We should really do it again sometime.” Zale drew his blade out of Hazadriel and stood back as gooey, smoking gore oozed out of his chest. Hazadriel touched a hand to his chest, still awestruck. As the flames about him withered and his aura faded, Hazadriel regained his voice long enough to say this to Zale before he died;
“You are more powerful than I had ever imagined, Zale Gringo. But do not expect this is the end of me. I will return, along with my two demonic brethren, Adriel and Eriel. You will rue the day you crossed my path, Zale!” With those last words uttered the demon was finally purged away from that plane of existence and back to the Nine Hells. The black skin flaked and blew away in a wind that was nonexistent. When the swirling ashes were gone, the pitifully emaciated body of Arrkmed, the real Arrkmed, lay before Zale. Even though Arrkmed had been evil, Zale could not help but feel pity at what had been his fate and even more anger at Hazadriel for tampering with the young drow’s life. He turned to set off in the dungeons once more, when he heard the clinking of armor. He turned to see a thick blade racing down at him. He leaped backwards, landing on his feet ready to spring. Before him was a figure even more intimidating than the demon Zale had just fought. It towered over Zale, and its sword was much longer and wider than Zale’s. Zale, still pumped with adrenaline, felt no fear at this new opponent’s arrival.
“Damn,” it uttered in a deep guttural voice. “It appears I have arrived too late to aid my master’s ally, Hazadriel. You must be a strong warrior to have defeated the demon...but,” he hefted his great blade and swung it through the air menacingly. “You will not defeat me. I have never failed my master, so in payment for arriving too late I will have to present your head to him. Or perhaps some other mangled remnant of your body, there’s no telling what will be left.”
“Here’s an idea,” said Zale, enthused with energy and confidence. “How about you just shut up and make a move?” Daggoth growled in anger and roared as he launched himself at Zale. Zale prepared to block but, after thinking the situation through more, decided instead to leap aside from the heavy blow that Daggoth swung to the ground. It made the entire battle arena portion shake and splintered the floor where it struck. Zale regained his feet and dashed at the ebony knight, lashing out with his katana. Daggoth whirled unimaginably fast and parried the flashing strike with ultimate precision. Zale was surprised and Daggoth had time to slash upward at his rapid opponent. The heavy blade pierced his armor, but not so much that it made a mortal wound.
Nonetheless Zale was sent flying, blood spurting out of his chest and torso. He rolled as he hit the ground came back up on his feet. He immediately counterattacked, ignoring the searing pain in his body as he darted past the hulking monolith, slashing as he did so. Zale had made a lucky guess, and struck at Daggoth’s neck. The point connecting the helm with the rest of the ebony armor was the weakest area of the full-body plate mail covering Daggoth. Zale’s sword was just sharp enough to slice through it and as Daggoth stumbled in surprise his helm fell and clattered to the floor. Zale turned to meet his foe again, and was nearly as shocked as Jack had been when he had seen his horrible face. He roared in rage at his supposedly unbreakable armor being breached and stomped towards Zale, sword whirling. Zale leaped towards Daggoth and did a flip over the oncoming attack, slicing with his sword at the top of Daggoth’s head as he did so. Daggoth must have had some sort of heightened reflexes or a sixth sense for he sensed this attack as well, going into a roll so that the blade swung harmlessly through the air above him. The warriors both turned as they came to their feet and rushed at each other again. Zale swung a furious flurry of strokes at Daggoth’s head, but Daggoth parried each blindingly fast attack with seeming ease. Zale leaped back again as Daggoth countered with an attack of his own.
Zale breathed heavily, he had already been tired from his battle with Hazadriel, and now he felt himself growing weak. Daggoth, on the other hand, was not breathing heavily in the least and showed no signs of weariness. He came at Zale again, faking an upward diagonal swing and then swinging his sword horizontally at Zale with all his might. Zale had dodged the feint and now was forced to block. He blocked the mighty stroke with his katana, but the force of the attack sent him flying once again. He tumbled and rolled to his feet, only to see Daggoth bearing down on him again. He dodged out of the way again, more sluggishly though. As he got up again, he noticed Daggoth had stopped advancing towards him and was holding his sword out at his side like a bat. Suddenly Daggoth swung the sword but let go of it so that it flew through the air at him, rotating like a deadly fan blade. Zale leaped over it but his legs got clipped as he was just short of clearing it. It didn’t matter though, wounded as he was Zale now had the upper hand. Daggoth was weaponless, and Zale charged at him, his shins screaming in bloody agony as he ran. He leaped and brought his katana rushing downward at Daggoth in similar fashion to Daggoth’s aerial attacks which he used so often. The katana rushed down to split Daggoth’s head in two, and then suddenly stopped. Zale gaped as he landed, still pushing down on the katana. Daggoth and gripped the blade of the sword in one mighty armored hand and stopped its onslaught. Zale was too surprised to let go of his sword or leap away, and Daggoth grabbed him around the throat with his other gargantuan fist. He tightened his grip on Zale’s throat, putting unrelenting pressure on his larynx, crushing it. Zale’s eyes widened as his body fought for air. Zale kicked his legs underneath and pounded on the gargantuan fist that gripped him as his body panicked.
“Oblivion awaits thee!” said Daggoth as he crushed the life from Zale.
“Damn it all, no way did I just kill a DEMON to get killed by this freak!” Zale thought. He quickly regained control of himself and lifted his torso as high as he could, his knees bent and his legs crouched as they would be if he were preparing to spring from the ground. He then kicked outward into Daggoth’s face with all his might, metal boots smashing it to a bloody mess. Daggoth instantly released him. He staggered backward drunkenly, and then collapsed onto the ground. Zale didn’t know whether the beast was dead or still alive, and didn’t want to wait around to find out. He thought for a moment of making sure it was dead, but shook his head instantly. Zale didn’t like to kill unless he had to. And besides, as evil as the being was, it was now defenseless. Zale deemed that to kill it while it was lying there totally defenseless would be a cowardly deed. He surmised that if it was not dead, it would probably die here in the dungeons, lost. A horrible fate, but one that Zale felt certain the ebony knight deserved.
He started for the coliseum entrance, and then remembered Daggoth still held his katana. He went back to Daggoth and grabbed it. On an impulse he decided to check Daggoth for any peculiar items. He found numerous elixirs and potions of whose purposes he had no idea. And he also found a pitch-black amulet carved out of ebony. He grabbed the amulet, wondering. He remembered his friends and thought of his company which was probably dueling with the vampire lord at this moment. He had to reach them! No sooner had he thought this than the amulet emitted thick globs of darkness. Zale was alarmed that it might be trying to kill him or curse him, but he had a hunch it wasn’t so. He let the globules form completely around his hand, and then they suddenly engulfed him and teleported him to the tower where his mercenaries were fighting for their lives.
Chapter 10: Fight for Honor or Fight for Your Life
The mercenaries were battered and bleeding, and they had formed a back-to-back ring within the center of the room. Khas held his twin daggers defensively, his cape and cloak singed and smoking slightly from a spell. His left shoulder and a portion of his torso were bloody. Krista had an ugly bruise on the side of her head and numerous cuts and slashes along her body. Still she managed to raise her sword and hold a defiant look in her eyes. Alden was the only member of the group who didn’t appear to have been bloodied at all, but he bore numerous signs of magical damage. Valandil had drawn his short sword and a small buckler. He had a vicious slash running down his face and through his left eye. Blood was pumping steadily from the wound, and it was a wonder the half-elf was still standing. The battle had lulled into a tense stand-off. Five charred vampire ninja corpses littered the room, but although the Gringo mercenaries had fought quite bravely, there were still at least 15 vampire ninjas surrounding them. They held their katanas at the mercenaries, ready to kill in an instant if they even moved. Kassad stood behind them, grinning arrogantly in his imminent victory.
“Well my noble guests, it appears you have lost. You can either put down your weapons or I will incapacitate you myself and bite you anyway. Either course of action carries the same result.” The mercenaries continued to hold their positions, saying nothing. “Very well then, Adalax metonin Zenetho-!”He was cut off in his chanting by the crimson barrier shattering like glass and the doors slamming open. Faine, Lune and Jack took in the situation for only a second and then sprang into action. Faine and Jack hurdled into the foremost ranks of vampire ninjas, hitting them while they were still surprised. The other four mercenaries quickly did the same, attacking the ninjas closest to them before they snapped out of their surprise. That didn’t take long though. Kassad quickly finished his spell, conjuring inky blobs of blackness that engulfed Krista, Alden, Khas, and Valandil. They wriggled helplessly as the tangible darkness flowed over them, binding their hands and feet so that they could not move. Kassad smiled and moved to Khas first, preparing to bite him. Lune responded with good timing, finishing a spell before Kassad could bite Khas or any ninja could slay the bound warriors. An incandescent light encapsulated the four struggling forms, filling the whole room with a blinding light. Every vampire and mercenary alike shielded his/her eyes as the room endured a deluge of radiant light.
The four bound mercenaries were transformed into pure white silhouettes for a moment, and when the light faded they found the darkness had vanished from their bodies. Kassad began to prepare another spell, when a long silver dagger was suddenly plunged into his heart. He gasped, not in pain this time but in vexation. Khas removed the dagger as he flipped neatly over Kassad plunging his other one into Kassad’s back as he did so. His skin began to blacken again, and Khas reached up and around Kassad’s head, preparing to dive the dagger into his neck and drag it backwards in a killing blow. Kassad, however, was pissed off and had other plans. He turned and blew Khas away and into a wall with a wind spell, his skin automatically being revitalized by the Blood Crystal once more. He held his hand into the air and conjured a bastard sword as dark as the blackest night out of nowhere. He had had enough of this assassin and wanted to show him a thing or two about combat. He knew full well that he had more devastating magic he could use, but if he died he would be re-spawned anyway. So why not have a little fun? His ninjas could handle the mercenaries. This was true, the ninjas were fighting, and Jack had been cut down already. The others were sure to follow. As the battle raged on about them, Khas and Kassad tuned out the sounds of it and focused solely on each other.
“This sword is made from mine own blood, mingled with the darkest of metals and enchantments. It is SoulReaver, and all who die by it are fed to the Blood Crystal. I will kill you with it, and you will be summoned to serve me for eternity!” said Kassad.
“If you are truly the one who turned me, then you have earned my undying wrath. You claim to have never met death…” Khas smiled darkly. “But that is only because you never met me!” With that uttered he spun a full 360 degrees, launching a veritable armada of silver throwing knives at Kassad. Kassad instantly disappeared, leaving only a shadowy smoke which the knives whisked through harmlessly. Dark smoke appeared on his left, and suddenly Kassad was there, striking at him with SoulReaver. The blade was coming down at his face, and Khas blocked it with both of his daggers laid across one another, locking the sword between them like they were scissor blades. He flashed a grin and pushed the sword aside roughly, leaping as soon as Kassad was off balance and slashing with his left-hand dagger. Kassad dissipated away yet again and Khas met only hazy darkness. Kassad re-appeared across from him and began to talk once again.
“Ahahahaha, I can teleport anywhere within the crimson mist at will! No magical requirements, so I can do so infinitely!” As soon as he had said this, he teleported all around Khas in a dizzying speed. Finally he stopped behind Khas, swinging violently with his sword as soon as he appeared. Khas heard the swinging blade and rolled away, narrowly avoiding it. As the mercenaries struggled simply for their lives amidst all the enemies, Khas continued to play this cat and mouse game with Kassad. Khas stabbed with flawless efficiency, but Kassad always teleported away just in time to avoid the silver blades. And even if he did kill him, Kassad would simply revive himself realized Khas. However, he could not stop the battle, because Kassad kept attacking him. There had to be some way to stop him. And it had to be done fast, the Gringo mercenaries were nearly done for.
Suddenly a dark portal appeared in the center of the fighting, pouring out a dark viscous fluid that began to meld into a shape as it hit the floor. Kassad began to laugh in utter triumph. Yes! He thought. Now that Daggoth is here this battle is assuredly over. To Kassad’s dismay, however, it was Zale who the dark essence turned into. He looked a little rankled by the odd teleportation, but immediately took stock of the battle going on around him. What?! cried Kassad in his mind. It…it cannot be...Daggoth has never failed me, and yet that insidious drow appears through Daggoth’s own device?! No matter…I shall end this quickly before things get too out of hand. And things certainly were getting out of hand. Zale was tired, but spurred on by the sight of his enervated companions bounded into the battle with graceful destruction. He cut down several vampire ninjas and joined his band of mercenaries. They suddenly were rejuvenated by his appearance and began to turn the tide of battle.
“Eternasan!” cried Kassad. Several charred vampires suddenly rose back up as animated corpses. They were not as nimble as the living vampires, but had enough numbers to nearly squash the mercenaries. Khas felt the brilliant spark of an idea illuminate his mind. He looked up at the Blood Crystal. As powerful as it was…could it be destroyed? He decided to find out. With expert precision he threw a knife lancing towards the crimson orb. It nearly impacted, but was deflected by a magical barrier that glowed antagonistically as the blade pinged off its surface. Khas swore in frustration as Kassad laughed.
“You cannot hope to break that barrier; it is a layered wall of all the strongest defensive enchantments I have ever come across in my many years.” He quickly resumed the battle between him and Khas. Alden had noticed what Khas had attempted, and instantly went to work trying to break down the magical shielding. Footsteps were suddenly heard as well as the clinking of armor up the stairs. More of Kassad’s soldiers, led by an eager-faced Adrian, clomped into the battle. Now it was surely hopeless, not even Zale’s wondrous talents could save them. And Kassad’s statement proved to be correct; Alden saw more magical barriers there than he could have counted in a day. He swore furiously. There had to be some way out of this, there was always a clever, logical solution to any hopeless endeavor. Valandil fell too now, and only Krista, Zale, Lune and Khas remained fighting.
And then Alden had it. An incredibly simple yet ingenious way to destroy the Blood Crystal. He quickly intoned a complex spell and aimed it at the very top of the tower. A great rumbling was heard, and cracks ran all along the ceiling of the tower. Kassad looked up once again, his smile faltering somewhat. The rumbling continued as did the fractures, until finally great sections of the tower began falling down upon them. Great pieces of roof fell throughout the room, some crushing a few of the multitudinous vampires.
And then, amid an anguished cry from Kassad, a huge section of the roof fell in from the middle right into the Blood Crystal. Kassad had planted the enchantments along the ceiling and all around the air surrounding the Blood Crystal. But when the roof had broken apart it had disabled the shielding. It tumbled into the Blood Crystal and plowed through it. The bloody orb broke and let out a cacophony of noise and chaos. Crimson light and dark shadows erupted from it in a swirling vortex for what seemed like ages. As the vortex screamed and howled, it sucked in the crimson mist from the entire area. As the last clouds of the crimson blight were sucked within, the vortex also consumed Kassad, his final cry dying as he turned to ash and those ashes were sucked within the black vortex. As soon as Kassad had been consumed the vortex whisked away, taking the crimson mist and the shadowy darkness with it. Once more the sun shone brightly, and it illuminated the exposed tower brilliantly. The vampires screeched and wailed as the hated sun left them blinded and prostrate, only alive due to the clothing that concealed their bodies. Khas and Krista luckily wore hoods most often and so were not burned by the sun’s rays. The mercenaries quickly slew the remaining vampires and tumbled to the floor, exhausted.
And so Kassad finally met his worst enemy, his greatest and only fear, death. As the day was lit with brightness once again, the mercenaries felt their spirits rise up high as if buoyed on the winds themselves. They tended to the worst of their injuries, and made haste back to the no longer so dismal town. As the Gringo mercenaries entered the village of Talron in victory they were met by a crowd of joyous villagers who cheered and sang their praises. The town recovered from its depressive state quite quickly. A celebration was instantly ignited and the entire town, along with the mercenaries, partied with extreme vigor. It was a great time and the mercenaries enjoyed themselves highly. Even the non-social Khas was swept up into the intoxicating state of frenzied celebration. Zale and Faine talked quietly to the side of the frenzied dancing that was going on inside the town hall. Jack was dancing with some local babes he had been chatting up earlier. Valandil was participating in an eating contest, and Alden was telling the mercenaries' exciting tale to several gathered townspeople. Lune was sitting alone, and as the grand fiesta continued she looked even more dismal. Jack decided to forsake his futile efforts on the hot babes and give Lune some company. After talking for several moments, Zale saw them walk outside and away from everyone else. He felt happiness for them, and was also hopeful that Lune might stop being so obsessed with him now. Khas and Krista were nowhere to be seen, and Zale amused himself by wondering just what they could be doing. The party went on deep into the night, and continued for several days.
Eventually all grand celebrations must end, and it was no different for this one. The mercenaries collected their payment, which mayor Handen paid gladly. He as well as the entire town saw them off the next morning, he shook each and every one of their hands, beaming and spewing out a nonstop rhetoric of praise that bordered on reverence. He finally stopped and bid them farewell, telling them that they would be etched in the town’s history as it’s saviors from the Blood Mist for the ages and that they were welcome back any time. Zale felt enthused with satisfaction at the end of the mission. It had been the toughest and most challenging of any of his missions so far.
His reunion with the demon, Hazadriel had brought up many sad memories for Zale, and yet he did not feel sad in the least. Although he had gotten over things in the past five years, he now finally felt complete absolution from the despair and depression that had gripped him earlier in life. He looked about him and at each of his companions. He saw Alden and Valandil arguing boyishly, Lune and Jack holding hands, and Khas and Krista standing close to one another silently. His gaze finally came to rest on Faine, who was once again frowning as she made some calculations in her head about each member’s payments and stuff like that. She caught his gaze and gave him a warm smile. He was surrounded by good friends whom he had developed a deep fondness for. He felt even more joy suffuse into him after seeing his companions, and when they set off on the road again he did so with a spring in his step and bliss emanating throughout his soul.
The End!
Or perhaps…not?
Slowly, painfully he came to. His face ached and he could feel dried blood covering the majority of it. But he had felt greater pain than this before, oh yes, much greater pain. His eyes fluttered open weakly, and he slowly rolled onto his side and got up off his back. As he took in the coliseum the past events suddenly came rushing back into his memory. How long had he been out?! He asked himself fearfully.
The End!
Or perhaps…not?
Slowly, painfully he came to. His face ached and he could feel dried blood covering the majority of it. But he had felt greater pain than this before, oh yes, much greater pain. His eyes fluttered open weakly, and he slowly rolled onto his side and got up off his back. As he took in the coliseum the past events suddenly came rushing back into his memory. How long had he been out?! He asked himself fearfully.
“Master?” He called out in his mind. No reply. “Master?! Are…are you here?” It was no use, Kassad must have died somehow. Strangely, Daggoth felt no remorse at the thought. The deep reverence and loyalty to Kassad that had been such a part of him seemed to have faded with his former master’s death. Daggoth searched his mind…truly he had once been something other than Kassad’s lackey. And yet he could not remember anything other than the times he had spent in service with Kassad. Had he been human, elf or dwarf? Had he been a surface-dweller at all? Or had he always been this…monster.
Daggoth dismissed these questions with a mental shrug. Most others would have felt a great urge to find out their past if they had no memory, but Daggoth felt it was pointless to strive for something that was already said and done. No, the only sensible thing to do was to look at the present and future. He did not desire to know who he had been; instead he would make sure he knew who he would be. Daggoth remembered enough from his service to Kassad to retain his great fighting skills. He looked around and found his great broadsword, Shaalkroth. Lifting it and fitting it into the massive scabbard on his back, he trudged off into the dark tunnels of the dungeons. He knew not the way out, nor what he would do when he escaped the derelict castle. He stepped into the dusty tunnels, without purpose or plan, but with all the malice and rage he had always and forever had.
*end*
Book 3...to come in a very, very long time!
3 comments:
wow... you make me feel bad. i love it.
Thanks Susan. The funniest thing is, I just re-read it for the first time in a LONG time...and I consider it near-awful! In the details anyways. I shall nit-pick this thing apart like no tommorrow...heheh
Oh and the sequel is posted now, read it if you like ;)
i just read the second one and liked it very much! can't wait for the third... it was very diverting. kinda makes me want to put elves and vampires in mine... nah. they are totally awesome, though.
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