Vampire Hunting with Kaellintius Blightedsoul. An introduction. [Archive]

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Hiemal

02-13-2009, 05:30 AM

Part 1 Ill met by runelightThe streets of Neriak are always filled with sounds: the cacaophony of thousands of Tier'dal being themselves to one another, often at volume, mingles and fills the cavernous city's many chambers with its own echoes. This is an unhealthy place, I thought for the thousandth time since leaving Freeport to make this den of vipers my temporary home. To be submerged in such an atmosphere, noursihed in the isolation of these caverns on its own malice with only death, birth, and the river to bring change. I shivered a bit and smiled. This place was ideal for a follower of the Plaguebringer like myself. Neriak was bridled chaos all around me as I made my way through a maze of shops and homes that in Freeport would have been carts and hovels. Here even the slaves had homes of stone. Many moved through the streets- ogres and trolls mostly, wading trough the crowd as though they were fording a river of small, dark bodies- on their masters' business. I was accompanied as I walked along the cobbled street by whispers. I am sure there were many stares and pointed fingers as well. I couldn't swear to it as I seldom bothered to look, however. Nothing gets to an elf like being ignored.They knew what I was, even if in these quarters they probably didn't know who. Even though I was veiled and wore gloves, I'm sure they knew. No amount of covering could disguise the fact that a member of the paragon race of elfdom walked among these, my twisted and grotesque cousins. I heard whispers, on occasion, that went veiled so that I wouldn't be recognized as Koada'Dal. The truth, of course, was that I would not profane the glory of my memory of Felwithe by allowing the beauty of the Sun of elvenkind to shine in these perverse caves. Even after all these years and all that had happened it just seemed... base. These imps may hate as they wish and tell each other their lies. They are all afraid to presume upon the kindness of their queen if they should be implicated in any unfortunate accidents associated with one of her guests. Their byzantine loathing was an amusing enigma to me as they relied on arcane customs and protocol for its expression. Even the surliest shopkeeper tends to stay well on the safe side of civility when talking to a necromancer. Particularly here. In most civilized spots the Art tends to be frowned upon, or at least looked at askance. The only respect I ever got in Neriak was more for my trade than for my race, though. Truly twisted people...I also heard the other whispers, the ones that threaded their way through the crowd with the subtlety of serpents and influenced every conversation around me. Lines were being drawn, names being noted, sides being formed. The mad queen and her followers were polarizing this city and the resentment was growing like one of the those luminescent fungi the Dark Elves lliked to spread on the distant walls and ceilings of the cavenerns that housed their home city. I could feel the rancor all around me as though who remained loyal to the old ways of Inoruuk and those who pledged themselves to Queen Christanos' vision for the Tier'dal began squaring off in so many small ways.I basked in their resentment, allowing its piquant flavor to buoy me as I made my way through the alleys and narrow streets that led me ever deeper into the more disreputable parts of the city, the neighborhoods that visitors were not encouraged to visit due to the crippling weight of Dark Elf pride. All of the Queen's efforts to lead her city aways from the ways of Hate had served only to awaken slumbering embers of resentment and ambition. I made another mental note to be done with business here before it ignited and the entire city erupted into open warfare. Inoruuk does love his little jokes, I thought and began to laugh- drawing horrified stares from passersby as I paused to enjoy the humor. All this little queen has done is ensure the dominance of the Prince of Hate within this pit for another thousand years...As I savored the humor I heard another laugh in the small eddy of stillness that had formed around me as the inhabitants of the City of Hate withdrew from me in revulsion as though I had suddenly begun showing signs of virulent plague. Standing beside me on a small stand displaying cheap amulets and trinkets an Arsai had her hands on her miniscule hips and was rocking back and forth in the throes of her laughter. Her purple wings like miniature stained glass windows stolen from a chapel of Hate and given life stirred with the passion of hilarity. She eventually noticed that I had stopped laughing and turned to regard me."So who's going to die, tall, bright, and ugly," she asked as she smoothed the pleats of her dark gown- which covered, I noticed, an intricate suit of mail with several concealed weapons. "Nobody laughs like that without someone else suffering in the end!"Before I could answer I heard the jingle of tack combined with the asthmatic wheezing and snorting of one of Neriak's finest approaching on warg-back. The musty smell of a predator combined with an unpleasant scent that I associated with certain types of unclean and arcane combustion and I saw the creature's blue, flaming eyes at almost shoulder height as a Dark Elf patrolman manuevered his mount into my face to see what the commotion was about."This isn't a safe neighborhood for one of her majesty's foreign guests to be playing tourist in, outlander," the heavily-armored Dreadguard told me bluntly. "I suggest you take your excursion somewhere more suitable."The Arsai leapt and alighted on the horned headguard of the warg, causing it to shift its head this way and that to try and dislodge the irritant. She kept her balance nimbly, with the occasional flap of her colorful wings as she addressed the guardsman. "I am Alizayu of the great and noble house of G'Svinn and my new friend here was about to explain the meaning of his little joke. Never fear, noble warrior of the Tier'Dal, I will see our High Elf friend safely to the Foreign Quarter after I have extracted the truth from him!" She executed an exaggerated curtsy and skipped backwards onto the wargs nose before hopping back onto here previous perch on the delapidated sales display. The Dreadguard turned his expressionless face my way again without a word. "I see now that you wear the band of The Dead," he continued blandly. "I will just leave you with the information that my patrol won't take me back here for a few hours, so clean up any messes you leave behind. There may be certain "elements" in that quarter that don't have as much respect for the Queen's law as they should." With that he pulled hard on the reigns of his Nightmare Warg and growled a command, allowing the beast a passing snap at the corrupted Fey as he turned to continue along the main roadway that led to the next cavern. She stepped easily backwards and laughed merrily. "Have a nice day, Dreadguard Smiley," she sang to his retreating form. "I thought he'd never leave."I turned to make my way deeper into part of Neriak known locally as "The Queen's Budoir". I was stopped moments later as the Arsai grabbed my sleeve and pulled me backwards. I felt an unpleasant shock as the negative energy field I habitually surround myself with reacted with her own arcane energy. Unwelcome memories and associations began to float to the surface of my consciousness like dead bodies in a river. Alizayu gasped and allowed my sleeve to fall back.I turned slowly, allowing irritation to displace the last troubling thoughts. She grinned without contrition, "Did you forget that I was waiting for you to let me in on your secret? I have a feeling that something is interesting is going to happen and my instincts don't usually point me too far in the wrong direction.""Doesn't it bother you to be ignored?" I asked with genuine interest."Not really," she said serenely as she produced a small, hooked blade that shone slickly even in the dim light of Neriak and then banished it again with a flick of her wrist. "In my line work it often pays to be unnoticed." She grinned expectantly and I felt once again a wave of unconscious recognition.I felt the forgotten memories trying to escape the inner wall I had built to seperate my past and present lives. It was a pyschic vertigo that would have doubled me over if I had been a different creature. As it was not a twitch betrayed my momentary lapse of mental discipline.Even so my minute companion had sensed somthing. "I thought so! My hunches are always right- you are an interesting person, and I'm pretty sure something interesting will happen if I flit around with you for a spell! Get it! A spell, because you're a Necromancer! I can see why you are a BoneMaster, anyways! You've got a dead person living in your own head. That's awesome! So, what's you're name and who's going to die?"Her empathy was utterly unexpected in one the depraved "creations" of Cristanos Thex. That is when it finally clicked and I recognized what the part of me that had died so many centuries ago had been trying to tell me. My own empathetic affinity to certain types of elemental and planar essences, an innate but random gift honed by long years of training and study to the extent that even in this state it was responding to the spirit of the twisted Arsai without my full awareness. It certainly explained my unconscious distate for them, evident only in retrosepect.Looking at her with new, or at least forgotten and temporarily rediscovered, eyes I saw her spirit as a bright, fey, and twisted thing lashed onto this material shell. I could feel the malevolent and ungentle alterations that been made this race and it was an almost unbearable thing to see so plainly. With that, the vision dissipated, and the unreliable gift that had, a lifetime ago, made me truly gifted Conjuror, fled for hopefully the last time. As dispassionately as I could, I allowed the gray wall to recreate itself and turned my attention once more to the outer world."So are you going to let me in on your joke or not? I think that it's something important," she declared and emphasized her seriousness by grinding her fists into her hips and leaning back on her heels. I remembered the capricious and willful threads of energy that I had seen woven together in her spirit- the volatile resolution and the unpredictable intuitive mind of an elemental being tied to the material plane by the hand of divinity- probably Tunare herself.I remembered also the desicration I had sensed. Inexpertly or indifferently this spirit had been changed in ways that were cruel to point of blasphemy- this was obviously the work of the mad queen of Neriak. Mad indeed of she thought her work contained more of her than of her own Creator, who had made her everything that she is. Hate will always repay Hate, I thought and began to laugh again. The Prince of Hate loves his little jokes.Alizayu started to chuckle but visibly forced herself to remain sternly focused. "I think it's time for you to share! I since such deliciosly malicious anticipation in your laughter! Won't you share it with me" I was astonished to hear actual pleading in her voice, as unexpected as warmth from an Erudite or sincerity from a Ratonga. She was an astonishing creature."I'm afraid not- that would spoil the surprise for an entire city, I suspect. But don't fret, I have no doubt that your entire race will help to deliver the punch line and that it will bring the House down. It'll really "slay" them, I believe is how the humans put it." I sobered and immediately turned to head deeper into the shadowy corners of the cavern, which seemed for the most part empty. Only the occasional glow from a few windows gave any evidence otherwise.End of Part 1. Part 2 will continue shortly- stay tuned.

Hiemal

02-14-2009, 05:09 PM

Hmmmmmmmmmmm. The title is supposed to be "Vampire Hunting with..."Any mods that can change this?

niko_teen

02-24-2009, 12:35 PM

Click edit in your first post and the title bock area with be editable. I have a bad habit of changing titles around until i get one that I like.In addition to that I'm patiently waiting for the next instalment to your story. It sucks when no one posts to let you know that they're enjoying your tale but know that there are several of us out here reading and enjoying your tale.

Hiemal

02-24-2009, 05:23 PM

Thanks for the tip and the feedback! "Part 2- Dumbfire of the Vampires" is in the works!

Hiemal

03-02-2009, 06:12 AM

Part 2Dumbfire of the VampiresThe street opened about us into a small plaza lined around with intricately frescoed storefronts whose queerly pointed ornaments and intricate silhouettes were strangely reminiscent of other elven cities, where nature provided the details instead of craft. A few shoppers moved among thethose that appeared to be occupied before disappearing into one of the number alleys that all shortly came up agaisnt the sharply sloping wall of rock that defined this edge of the cavern."You still haven't told me your name, you know!", Alizayu reminded me as we skirted the rather tacky and tastelessly colored monolith that assualted the local skyline from the center of the plaza and headed down the widest of poorly lit paths between the sloping and slanted walls of the buildings that defined them."You already know mine- Alizayu of the glorious and right funky House of G'Svinn, at your service and all that- around here we call that 'having the advantage,'" She concluded and planted herself sternly on the filthy edge of a metal drum filled with something dark, oily and unpleasant smelling.I paused at the place where the final buildings stood and the remainder of the cavern spent itself in a gently curving arc as the walls ran ever closer together to merge at a little crease in the rock, where a small shrine to Innoruuk had been built. I turned slowly, allowing her to contemplate her choice of words and stood mutely for a few moments before answering her.Like a shiver down my spine, or the sound made when a finger dipped in wine makes the glass sing by riding its edge, I sensed them. Undead, vampires- three of them- coming closer, making their way from different directions. So predictable. They moved carefully enough that it seemed that they escaped the Arsai's notice but the bitter cold but arcanely empowering shroud of ethernere with which I covered myself rippled in recognition of their defilement. Their contempt for a student of necromancy would be costly.The idea that she thought she had some kind of claim on something as important as my name irked me, but the lingering shreds of my earlier epiphany left me with a sense of familiarity with the strange creature that prompted me to answer with more regard than was properly her due."I am Kaellintius the Necromancer. There are those who call me 'Blightedsoul' but no house claims me, nor do I claim any. There was once another man named Kaellintius who had such things, but he is dead. We have company, by the by-would you be a dear and entertain one of them with your endless questions and misdirected enthusiasm for a bit? I have a little something to take care of."I walked into the open space and backed up until the walls were near my shoulders and began my Incantations. The Arsai did a flip and vanished before completing it in a soft flutter of wings that seemed to scatter image into the shadows. "I thought you'd never ask," a whispered voice from somewhere above and ahead of me smirked.I called upon the arcane energies of death through word, gesture, and most importantly purpose and began forming a link between this place and the bleak realm of Ethernere, working it like a potter does clay with my voice and gestures until it caught hold and a small crack appeared in a space that appeared to be just a little below the floor, which was the natural stone of the cavern, simply leveled but not cobbled or tiled in dreary mosaics as so much of this hideous city was.I forced the opening on this side open with my will until a chasm appeared and sent out my call. Five... things... answered my summons and approached gaining form and substance as they approached, putting on familiar forms borrowed from my own mind. A jarring howl preceeded them and echoed violently within the rapidly diminishing space behind me. Then they were here, shaking their lowered heads and making a sound that was as much a sickly purr as it was a growl.They wore the form of Tunarian Dire-Wolf Hounds, as they always did when they served me, these ragged but lingering shreds from the fabric of death itself. The tips of their ears would have reached my shoulders if they had been unflayed in this incarnation but they were slender creatures compared to the massive beasts they had been bred to keep at bay even in life, when they hadn't been skeletally thin and picked at by scavengers. The fur that remained in matted contrast to patches of raw wounded flesh was short and lacked the soft luster it had held in life. Two had been silver, three gold.The three vampires I had felt approaching appeared suddenly, quickly spreading themselves into a semi-circle they apparently thought would best prevent me from escaping. If they were surprised to find my little pets waiting for them, they didn't show it. The one in the middle was dressed in slightly used finery that appeared even to my unseasoned eye overly elaborate even by the standards of Neriak. "Hold back your dogs," he demanded with a sneer. "Our master wants to speak with you."The vampire to the the leader's right was also the expected Tier'dal but his third companion surprised me. Although he was clad in the same kind of brutally tacky splendor that made [Removed for Content] of his friends this one was an Ayr'Dal. Wonderful! This one should do perfectly- perhaps his human heritage will give him the stamina to survive a little longer than his dainty cousins and I can find what I need. I communicated the necessary strategy to my hounds in order to prevent my chosen prey's escape of accidental slaying at the hands of my unseen companions. I ordered Gwylchn and Thindin to harass the vampire in the middle while Rey'ron and Nuristal drove my chosen specimen towards the curving wall of the cavern. Gingil I directed towards the third, who stood near where I presumed Alizayu waited. They stood absolutely still without any sign of tenseness but I felt their eagerness, like a drawn bow. Their hunger was mindless and all-encompassing, they were unliving weapons that could only live while in combat.With a though I sent them off, crossing the short distance that seperated them from their targets with yelps and whines. "I will take what I need and not even ashes will remain of the rest of you to tell your master of your failure. I don't speak to the undead. I command them." With only a few phrases of Strudwiggins' General Summoning to act as loadstones to the thaumic energy I had been accumulating during my short speech with a few overly dramatic hand waves. Another Word and I unleased a stream of madly flapping bats upon their spokesperson.The vampire on the left staggered and Alizayu flickered into sight, balanced against his shoulders as she pulled her blade from his neck and kicked off into the air. She came to the ground in the far corner and dodged a wild swing with a surprisingly large long sword nimbly as he charged her, shrugging off a bite from my hound that should have left him crippled. She ducked past the wickedly curved hand-axe that was awkwardly thrust at her in passing and paused only long enough to deliver a quick stab to the back of his knee, angled to penetrate the gaps in any hidden mail. Her violet hair, neatly bobbed to her slender shoulders, shook a little as she let loose a peal of tinkling laughter and she skipped quickly beyond reach as the undead creature shrugged off blows that would have crippled a living elf and turned quickly, but not nearly quickly enough, to try and engage his tormentor. "Step out of the shadows and introduce yourself, Grimblades," I invited. "It's time to feed." I could feel the embattled vampires surprise as he materialized suddenly behind me, and imagine the little Arsai's. Grimblades is a talented servent with a knack for avoiding well trained and even arcanely-enhanced eyes. The Words to call this spirit up and the power and knowledge to control him had not been cheap, in gold or in blood, and the effort of communing with hiim is sometimes exhausting. Not because he is rebellious but because he is so fundamentally alien, an enigma of mute death the full useof whom I had yet to grasp. I have only two other servents of that caliber.He appeared at my shoulder and bowed mockingly to the three vampires, two of whom looked up from slashing at my undead hounds to snarl at him. He was as pale as they were dark, his long hair tied back in with a simple black ribbon. His clothes were subdued but immaculate and he wore a stiff leather mask that covered the lower part of his face. He appeared to be of elven stock but it was impossible to guess of what extraction- too pale to be a dark elf, too short to be Koada'Dal, too robust for a wood elf, but not enough to have human blood. He also seemed to be as vampiric as my assailants, his ashen skin reflecting the few lights around us with a sheen that was too regular to be living flesh and his dark eyes drinking it in too deeply to be mortal. He was not, however. I had yet to even begin unravelling that mystery.His blades, long and slender twins that curved gently as they reached their deadly points, materialized in his hands and he walked leisurely towards the center vampire. I turned my attention to the half-elven vampire, who was still struggling with my dogs and the icy skeletal hands that held him in place. I began a quick spell to make sure he wasn't going to go anywhere and prepared myself to get down to business.End of Part 2

Hiemal

03-09-2009, 12:02 AM

Part 2 mostly finished. Part 3 is in the works...Stay tuned.

Hiemal

03-18-2009, 03:08 AM

The muse that inspires Kaellinitus is a fickle and infrequent one. While I await her attentions, please enjoy some music.This is as close to a theme song as I could find for Kaell...<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd46dYAr6ZQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd46dYAr6ZQ</a>Stay tuned...