Zarkov, Chapter 8

The next day greeted us with soreness and discomfort, and most of us returned to the hostel to get something approaching rest. Ignace decided to stay with the corpse for a while longer; he was still taking samples and doing analysis. The rest of us had no desire to impede or even witness his work.

All paths lead to Terra, they say, and we were convinced by all the clues we’d unearthed that the Alms House was something more than a place to receive a meal. Something was very wrong there, and we would have to find out just what it was. Such was our mandate, and our duty.

Ignace re-joined us at lunchtime, and a short strategy session ensued. We decided to visit the Alms House that night and take a good long look around. We spent the remainder of the day preparing ourselves, as Sila and Ignace searched Imperial Records for all entries relating to Coscarla’s Alms House. Finally, the night cycle approached, and after a nearly lethargic day, we moved out with a quickness.

Sila and Ignace had used their skills to good measure, and we had a printout of the building’s floor plan. We decided to enter through the refectory rather than the front or rear…if challenged we could just ask for a handout, like so many before us. We intended to go as quietly as possible. Funny how things turn out.

I was loaded for bear, wearing my full turnout. My harness was strapped over my flak armour, sword at one hip and laspistol at the other. The lasgun and shotgun rested in their customary spots on the magclamps on my back, and I still had the revolver at the small of my back. I’d even brought along a couple of frag grenades, just in case…I’ve found in my lifetime that it’s never a good thing to wish you’d brought your grenades along to the party. All that gear makes for a heavy load, but I’d grown accustomed to it on too many battlefields to count.

The rest of the team were as loaded as they ever got; Barrick with his combat shotgun, Ignace with his hotshot-loaded lascarbine. Sila clutched her revolver, and Venus appeared to be unarmed…but was likely the most potent of us all with her mindcraft. We seemed a motley crew indeed, three in robes and two in combat armor. We walked with purpose, ready to do the Emperor’s work.

Entry was simple, as Venus defeated the simple lock with a mere thought. We spread out, not really knowing what we sought beyond “proof of heresy.” That is a fairly wide swathe of possibilities, but if it was easy they wouldn’t need us.

Only minutes into our search, Ignace raised one hand, fingers splayed. We rushed to him, and he pointed to an odd device in the food service line.

“What the frak is it?” Barrick asked in hushed tones.

Ignace answered him quietly. “It appears to be a rudimentary bio-auspex. See here where it couples to this cogitator?”

Barrick gave him a blank stare. Ignace punched a few buttons on the cogitator array, and the Arbite nodded in sudden understanding.

“It further appears that it is programmed to track identification and biostatus of anyone receiving food from this establishment. To what end I cannot say.”

I held up a closed fist and all conversation ceased. I had heard something from the kitchen door, and I held my hand out, palm down, to let the team know to stay put and stay quiet. The door had a circular window in it, and I crept slowly over to peer through it.

It was a typical kitchen, all stainless steel and ceramics. A man in the green robes of the Alms House was working, bent over a large vat, and I nearly turned away. Then I noticed a glint of metal through a sleeve, and my head whipped back around. He had an autopistol in a shoulder rig, and I’d caught a glimpse of it through the gap of his robe. I pointed at Barrick and motioned him over, and he joined me quickly and silently.

He took a look through the window, then nodded to me. I mouthed a silent countdown from three, and we burst through the door together, leveling our weapons at the poor bastard.

Startled, his eyes flew wide open, and his hands went up over his head. He was a scruffy man, his filth and demeanor at odds with his pristine robes.

“Good evening.” I said it conversationally. “Let’s keep those hands up, and we’re going to answer a few questions.”

His answer came in a rush, as he grabbed the barrel of my lasgun with one hand, the other going for the pistol. He wasn’t quick enough by half, and Barrick spoon-fed him a blast from his shotgun. It was loud as hell, and I winced, sure that our stealth was blown.

I reached down and plucked a microbead out of the corpse’s ear, hearing a voice asking for a status report through it. I graveled my voice and rubbed a finger over the mic to simulate static as I replied.

“Sorry boss, that was an accident,” I said into the mic.

“I thought I heard gunfire?”

“Just the one shot, sir. It was a damn big rat. I missed.”

“Don’t let it happen again, Furnik.”

“Yes sir.” I heaved a sigh of relief, the stress of having to lie my ass off draining away from me. Then I smacked Barrick in the back of the head. Hard. An old sergeant of mine used to call that slap a “training aid.”

Barrick whispered to me “Did you want me to let him shoot you?”

“You’ve never heard of a buttstroke with your weapon?” I replied.

“Good point,” he conceded.

The others had filtered in, weapons drawn, and we continued our search in the kitchen. Moments later, Venus said simply “Here.” We gathered in one of the cold storage lockers, and she showed us some large barrels with numbers on the side. The numbers matched some of those we’d just seen in the cogitator, and my stomach flipped once. Sila covered her mouth with her hand.

The tech priest opened one of the containers, and quickly confirmed that it was filled with meat. “Human remains,” he said. Some of the team looked a little green, but nobody lost their dinner.

“Close it.” I said. “That’s enough…somebody goes down tonight.” I handed Ignace the microbead I’d collected. “Here, monitor this. It’s their comm freq.”

“Excellent,” the tech priest replied. He performed a quick ritual of attunement, and adjusted his own vox to monitor both our channel and theirs. I trusted him not to broadcast on the wrong one.

We made quick work of sweeping the rest of the first floor, finding nothing of interest. Our sweep took us past the main entrance with its lift and grand stair, through more storage areas and a conference room, and to the back staircase. We wasted no time heading up to the second floor, Barrick and I taking point.

We opened the door to a long hallway, with several doors along its length. We filed out of the stairway and into the gloomy passage, its sickly yellow sodium lights fighting to dispel the darkness. A general sense of creepiness hung in the air, and I looked to Venus to see if there was any warpcraft about. She shook her head gently, her blue eyes darting from door to door.

As a team, we moved from door to door, slowly and quietly clearing each room in turn. Minutes crept by, closing in on an hour. I felt an anxiety building; we’d been a long time with no contact. There’s a feeling in the air when a fight is about to happen, intangible but intense. That feeling was stirring now, and I reminded the team to stay alert.

The very next room we entered was the director’s office, and we gave it a bit more attention in our search for clues. Ignace noticed that one of the desk drawers was locked, and pried it open with his multitool. I heard him say “Interesting,” drawing the word out to leave it hanging among us in the room. We all looked at him, and he held up a small book from the drawer. On its face was the symbol of the Logicians, the heretical cult that had been crushed once before. Sila spoke first.

“That about cinches it then. Definitely heretics.” She spat the word, her righteous hatred dripping from it.

Suddenly, Ignace held his hand up, fist clenched. We all fell silent instantly. He tapped his ear, letting us know he was listening to vox. Then he said the words that changed our method for the night.

“We are discovered. There is a man just outside the door, reporting our presence.”

“We are go for active,” I replied, letting the team know we were now in a shoot-first-ask-later mode.

Barrick and I rushed the door; I took care of the opening part while he handled the pointing a shotgun through it part. Our target was in full flight, running hellbent for leather down the hallway. Ignace rolled through the doorway just before I stepped out into the gloomy passage, and we all sent rounds downrange. The green-robed runner staggered once, but made it to the end of the hallway, opening a steel door. Our next volley caught him just as the door slid open, and he crumpled to the floor.

From within that room, we heard a mighty crash and breaking glass, and a green fog issued from the door. I kept a sight picture on the doorway, assuming that all that commotion was a bad sign. Some days, I hate it when I’m right.

My eyes flew wide open as a huge humanoid thing charged through the doorway. It was a mass of vat-grown muscle, its right hand replaced by a meter-long chainripper. A low growl issued out of a mouth full of pointed teeth, and it showed no signs of slowing down as the chainripper revved up.

I fired as fast as my trigger finger would allow, trying to maintain fire discipline. I heard the booming of Barrick’s shotgun next to me, saw blood spatter and paint rip from the hallway walls. I heard the sharp crack-whine of Ignace’s lascarbine, watched a hole open in the thing’s chest. It seemed not to notice, closing the distance to us with preternatural speed. I felt the pressure of fear in my chest, but forced myself to stand firm and keep shooting. It still seemed not to notice, and it raised the chainripper high over its head.

Finally, Barrick caught the charging thing in the eye, and it crumpled a mere 3 meters from us, the chainripper digging a hole in the wall before sputtering out. Its torso heaved one final breath, and it fell silent. I released the breath I’d been holding, and felt the euphoria of certain death avoided flood through me.

I looked at Ignace, still on one knee beside me. “Rolling?” I asked.

“It seemed the most appropriate strategic procedure,” he replied. All I could do was laugh.

We cleared the rest of the hallway without incident, including the room that had recently held our rather enthusiastic attacker. Its containment vat had been shattered, and nutrient slime coated the floor, thick and green.

“Nothing else here,” Barrick said.

Sila, being careful to stay out of the slime-coated room, added “There’s a third floor.”

“Then we go up,” I said.

Ignace tilted his head to the side for a moment, and I knew he was visualizing the floor plan in his augmented mind. “The only entry point for that level is the lift. It is our only option.”

“No other options?” I asked. I was met with a chorus of silence. “That’s about what I thought. Let’s get this done.” We had no idea our night was about to get much, much more interesting.

Zarkov, Chapter 7

It was late afternoon, and we’d regrouped together at the hostel. Barrick had provided a plate of sandwiches we were tearing into, though I honestly didn’t want to know what was in them. Some things are better left unknown, especially downhive.

Venus was first to speak, once we got down to business. “Lili was fearful when we found her. We managed to put her at ease, but it took some doing.”

“She was most irrational,” Ignace added.

Venus continued, running a hand through her dark hair. “She told us she hadn’t noticed Saul’s disappearance at first, evidently he liked the bottle and wouldn’t come home sometimes. When she did notice, she became frantic. She’s got the same story we’ve been hearing since we arrived; disappearances in the dead of night.”

“We used our cover, and bought her a ticket out of here,” Sila chimed in. She looked at the floor. “We told her we knew Saul was dead. She deserved to know.”

Barrick and I nodded our agreement as Venus went on. “Something is very wrong here, that much is obvious. Lili, however, didn’t have a lot to add to our knowledge.”

“Well, I might know where Saul was last seen,” Barrick said. We all looked at him expectantly. “I was asking around, and I met a guy taking shelter in the Templum. Evard Zed. Saul’s best friend.” He was now grinning like the felid that ate the canary.

“Do tell,” Sila said.

“To make a long day a short story, Evard last saw him going into the Alms House. No other useful info.” He sat at the table, lighting a lho stick and taking a long drag.

“Well,” I said, “that’s quite interesting. I met with Luntz, local narco-runner. He wanted to hire us to take out a woman who crossed him. Guess where she keeps shop?”

“Alms House,” Barrick and Venus said in unison.

“Prize to the pair,” I said. Barrick stood within the smoke cloud he’d created, grabbed his combat shotgun, and started for the door.

“Where are you headed, lawboy?” I said.

“I’m going to recon the Alms house while it’s dark.”

“Not a bad idea,” Ignace said, looking thoughtful.

I nodded agreement. “Well, do me a favor and keep your vox bead on. Night cycle gets rough here, you know.”

“I will,” he said, and left the room. The rest of us attacked the sandwiches like pack-hounds.

***

An hour later, the vox went off, Barick’s voice driving into my ear.

“Frak! Contact, two contacts! Red eyes!”

I ran to my room, harnessing up and grabbing my weapons from the makeshift rack in the closet.

“Where are you?” I asked into the bead. Off the bead, I yelled into the hallway “Saddle up, Barrick’s in deep!” and was rewarded by a flurry of activity from the others. I headed down the stairs as Barrick updated us on his position, and I could hear his shotgun hammering over the voxcast.

It took us only a couple of minutes to reach the young Arbite, and we found him hard pressed by two of the rag-wrapped things. He was furiously backpedaling and using his shotgun like a club, parrying their grasping arms.

“Down!” I yelled, and we opened up on them as Barrick dropped to the ground and rolled toward us. The tech-priest’s hot shots seemed to be doing the most damage, but his rate of fire left a lot to be desired, since they’re a single shot mag. Venus was able to distract them with her peculiar abilities, and Barrick reloaded once he was clear.

For my part, I just kept pulling the trigger, my lasgun on semi-auto. I stuck to a disciplined fire drill: front sight, slow squeeze, reacquire, repeat. I’d done it so many times over a lifetime of merc work that it was reflexive, like breathing.

The damn things soaked up a lot of damage, but finally both fell to our combined fire. We stood over them, taking a breather. That’s when I heard more scraping in the darkness. I looked at Venus, and she closed her eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. Then she held up 7 fingers. I cursed, and grabbed one of the rag-wrapped things.

“Let’s go” I said, and put thought to action. I hoisted the corpse into a fireman’s carry and we moved out, all of us with weapons at the ready.

“They are ahead of us, Zarkov,” Venus said. “Closing like a trap. We won’t reach the hostel without more of these things.”

We were near the Union Hall, and Barrick pointed it out. “We can hole up there, get a good defensive position.”

“Best idea you’ve had all day” I said.

We hit the back door like a wave, Sila pounding on it in a frenzy. The same ganger answered as before, and I brushed him aside as we poured in. Barrick slammed the door shut behind us, as the ganger gaped like a landed fish.

I dropped the corpse like a sack of tubers, and Ignace set to work immediately unwrapping the rags that hid it from our view. Under all the cloth, he found a hive dreg, just a man, with cheap bionic eyes. “Night vision modified,” Ignace said, pointing to the augmetics. That accounted for the red glow.

Barrick leaned in closely. “What do you want to bet we find one of those organ things in there?” he asked. There were no takers.

I kept watch at the door, and could see no figures approaching through the viewslit. I looked at Venus, the question on my face. “None” she said. “They have either dispersed or moved toward the hostel, I’d guess.”

Just then, Luntz blew into the room like a stormfront. “The frak is going on in here?” Then he saw the body on the floor, and his face went pale. “What the…you can’t…you can’t have that here!”

“Luntz” I said. “Man up. We needed a spot, we got cut off.” He looked at me with murder in his eyes. “It’ll be fine.”

“The bloody sump it’ll be fine. You trying to get me killed?”

Ignace stood from his macabre work. “Good sir. You will note that this is no monster, but merely a man. It is nothing to fear.”

“Who the frak is afraid?” Luntz replied, his voice rising an octave. I decided not to answer his question, and shook my head slightly so that Ignace wouldn’t either. He’s a little soft on the concept of rhetorical questions.

“We’re going to need to borrow this room for the night, Luntz”, I said.

He gave me a long look, looked down at the body on the floor, and seemed to make a decision.

“Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine. I can send my boys through here, let them see the boogeyman’s face. Maybe they’ll quit pissing themselves at night.”

He turned on his heel and strode from the room, his dignity restored. We found ourselves alone.

“So”, Venus started, “Alms House?”

“Alms House,” I replied. All the clues pointed to that place as the source of Coscarla’s cancer.

Ignace waved the auspex over the body, and it chimed with a cheery tone, indicating the presence of the modified organ. “I do believe that would be the place to visit. May I suggest we go in the morning, and I will retrieve a sample of the organ from this poor soul?”

We all agreed, and settled in to get some rest. Sila grumbled about not having her bed, but none of us wanted to head to the hostel in the night’s darkness. A grim reminder of what awaited us outside lay on the floor, slowly revealing secrets under the tech-priest’s knife.

Zarkov Chapter 6

After a too-long shower and a too-short sleep, we rose to face the day. Of course, day in the Coscarla is only slightly less dark, a perpetual gloom hangs around like a fog.

We tossed Draylock’s office for clues, finding precious little. There was a note with a scrawled reference to Lili Arbest, Saul’s sister, so we made plans to visit with her for information. Sadly, none of us had remembered that we had planned that very thing back in the Interrogator’s briefing room. I felt like a FNG for a moment, but I let it pass and put my mind back on the mission, as we all met back in room 3, which Sila and Venus were using.

“We would be best served dividing our labors”, Ignace began.

“Second”, Barick said.

“I’ll head back to the Union Hall, see if I can drag up more info”, I said.

“Barick, perhaps you could check around for some other leads in the stacks?” Sila suggested.

“I’m on it”, he replied.

“We will talk with Lili”, Venus added, including Sila and Ignace with a glance.

“Alright then, let’s hit it. Vox if there’s trouble. We’ll meet back here.” I said. I shrugged on the heavy overcoat and headed out into the gloom of the Coscarla, making my way to the Union Hall.

As I walked, I got that itchy feeling between my shoulder blades. The feeling has served me well through the years, and I stopped dead. I scanned the street, looking around me with an eye to detail. I saw nothing. Still, when I resumed my walk, I did so warily.

I made my way to the Union Hall and into the bar at a brisk pace. Many of the same faces were here, professional drinkers racing their livers to the grave. I sat on the same barstool, and the tender brought over the same ale I’d ordered before. A good memory can be an asset for a bartender.

“You must be a tough one”, he said. I raised one eyebrow, a bit taken aback but waiting for him to continue. “Heard what you did to ol’ Draylock’s boys. Heard it from Luntz, actually. He wants to meet you.”

“Man’s quick”, I said.

“He keeps his ears open, that one. And always willing to pay for muscle.”

“Man’s smart”, I said. When I get a good theme, I stick with it.

“He keeps an office of sorts here”, the bartender continued. “It’s the door around back, doesn’t connect to the rest of the building. Knock five then three.” I couldn’t suppress a snort and a grin. “I know”, he said, “Luntz likes his pictdramas.”

“Tell him I’ll roll around later today” I replied. Then I finished my ale and I left.

I had a few hours to burn. I didn’t want to go straight to Luntz, as I didn’t want us to seem like a gang of overeager simps. I strolled the market for a while, taking in the sights and sounds. I’ve visited livelier intensive care wards.

I had some time to think about things. I knew that the Coscarla was dying, and would be another faceless underhive in maybe two decades. I knew that somebody had altered Saul Arbest, and not for the better. I knew that we’d seen a strange creature, human in shape, that we couldn’t find. I knew that I didn’t know near enough. I’d have to rely on the whole team to put it all together.

I decided that enough time had passed, and made my way back to the Union Hall to speak with Luntz. I made my way to the back door, and tapped the code out on it, shaking my head the while.

When the door opened, I was met by a one-two punch of odor and ugly. The stubjack that manned the door looked like he’d gone ten rounds with an ork and lost, and he smelled like said ork’s armpit.

“Whaddyer want?” he said, and I suffered the affront of his halitosis.

“I’m here for Luntz. He’s expecting me. I’m with the crew that aced Draylock’s half-wits.”

He took a step back, letting me enter. “Hey boss!” he yelled, “Got’s a visitor!” Hell, he talked like an ork, too.

The man I assumed was Luntz came into the room like a rolling fog. He looked like he’d been augmented with some vat-grown muscle, as his arms were about as big around as my thighs. The plug of a lho-stick protruded from his lips, unlit, and a stubble clung to his jaw and the top of his head. He was wearing old fatigues, likely surplus or lifted from a shipment.

“I’m Luntz. Thanks for showin’.” He stuck a massive hand out, and I shook it.

“Thanks for the invite.” I lifted my chin a bit. “It’s your place, your show. What can I do for you?”

“Direct.” He nodded his approval. “I like that.” His voice issued out of him like a bass drum dragged over gravel.

I answered with a slight grin, and said nothing.

“You seem a capable crew. I heard what you did to Draylock’s boys, and they were some hard bastards, through and through. I do things here that could use a capable crew.” He looked at me expectantly. He wanted me to ask. So I did.

“What kind of things?”

“I keep things running here. Try to hold off the dark a bit. Yeah, we move narco goods, but people here need ‘em to get by, yeah?” This was a pitch he’d practiced. “Sometimes a bit of muscle’s just the trick. You’re more than a bit of muscle, and I like that.”

“Sounds worth talking about,” I replied, just to keep him going.

“Well, here’s the thing. I want to find out what all you’re good at. You up for a test?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

He looked me over, and I watched him decide to buy in. “Alright. Got a job needs doing. You’ll find me generous if it gets done. There’s a queen bitch over at the Alms House I want dropped like a habit. Keeps herself to herself, but went sour on some trade with me. You take her down, you pass.”

“You want this pro bono?” I let a bit of an edge creep into my voice.

“No, man, nothin’ like that. You drop her, it’s worth a cool five hundred.” That was real money to the Coscarla. I let myself look impressed.

“All right, I’ll check with the team.”

“Do that. While you’re at it, you come across a friend of mine named Saul, you let me know. Went missing a bit ago.” I kept my face still, even though I recognized the name.

He turned and left, quite unlike a man holding court in the backrooms of a bar. There was nothing left for me to say, so I said it. I left, heading back to the hostel. I wasn’t sure if it would be worth our time to run an errand for a narc-runner. It was certainly distasteful. But sometimes you crawl through a bit of muck to reach an objective.

Zarkov Chapter 5

I made my way out of the building, nodding once to the portly hostel keeper on my way through the lobby. He looked me up and down in a way that made me wonder if he grappled same-sex. I dismissed the thought as I strode out into the dim light of the Coscarla.

I turned onto the main avenue, knowing that I’d have to pass through the market to get to the Union Hall. There is a press in a hive city, a constant hum of humanity going about its business that can put the uninitiated ill at ease. Here, in the Coscarla Segment, that press was absent. In its place was a hollowness.

Though I could see hundreds of people going about their lives, the dim light and loneliness of the place seemed to paint the scene as a giant lie, as if these people were only the shadows of a dying Segment. In truth, they were.

My walk took me past burned out habstacks and abandoned dwellings; those who could afford to relocate had already done so. None were left here but the destitute and the very stubborn.

The market was heavy with desperation. Vendors hawked ragged clothes, unidentifiable meats, substandard guns and ammo, and nutrient slime likely vat-harvested somewhere downhive. There was nothing untouched by the soot of the Coscarla; once-bright canopies, now blackened, lay slumped over tables like carrion birds spreading their wings over a carcass. I weaved my way through the lines of stalls quickly, approximating the hurried gait of the locals.

I finally made it to the Union Hall, a gathering place for the workers of the Coscarla who still had jobs. This was the available recreation for most, and as in more downtrodden places than I cared to count, the bar was the most popular destination within it.

The Union bar was dim, a large room with game tables and a massive slab of plascrete forming the actual bar. A steel mirror hung behind the bar, surrounded by bottles of liquor. About half the bottles were commercial, about half were homebrewed. I resolved to avoid the homebrew, as you never really know what local ingredients are present, nor which of those will be toxic or blinding.

The bartender was a short plug of a man with too few teeth and too little hair. He asked what I was drinking, and I pointed to a commercial ale and ducked my head like any other dreg would after a hard shift. I was largely ignored, hunched over on my stool as I was, which was fine by me. I used the mirror to scan the room every so often, taking in the same crowd I’d seen in a thousand other bars…the faces changed, but the crowd never did.

I’d been on the barstool for about ten minutes when two faces I knew entered the bar, Venus and Barick walking in and taking a place at a table. They leaned in and talked to each other, and the lone waitress stopped and got a drink order from them. I watched Barick in the mirror as he looked around the room, a slow scan that took in the whole room and all those in it.

Barick stood then, walking to another table occupied by the prettiest girl in the room. She was about a five, but her chest was an eight. I saw Barick motion the waitress over, and he bought her a drink. Great, I thought with no small amount of sarcasm, I get to watch a master interrogator at work.

Their conversation was too quiet for me to hear over the bar noise, and I kept my attention moving around the room thanks to the big mirror. So I noticed when one of the workers threw down his darts and started a beeline for Barick’s table. A few of his buddies tagged along with him, and in moments they’d made a semicircle around the table.

The boyfriend must have been a heavy laborer, as his forearms were massive. He spit his words out from behind a long bush of a beard.

“Exactly what the frak do ya think yer doing, tourist?”

“Just having a drink, friend”, Barick replied. I barely managed not to wince, as I twisted slightly on the barstool for a quick intervention if needed.

“I’m not yer friend, and that’s my woman. You lookin’ to eat some teeth?” The workers were leaning in now, eager for a fight.

“She’s a fine lady, and I apologize. I should have known she’d belong to somebody”, Barick said, a salesman’s smile stamped on his face. “Let me buy you guys a drink.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Venus twisting her pendant, which I’d learned meant some interesting things would be following soon. That necklace is her psy-focus, she’d told me, a tool some psykers use to “tune in” before using their unique gifts. The workers started to back off a bit, a free drink a fitting apology to those who hadn’t been affronted in the first place. The boyfriend, however, wasn’t ready to let it go.

“Don’t buy me shit, boy. Stand up and get yer due”, the burly worker said. It looked like the balloon was going to go up, and I started to slide off my stool. Then I saw Venus go stiff, the burly boyfriend similarly rigid for a moment. She’d done something, but I didn’t know what.

Suddenly, the worker staggered into his friends, eyes wide, muttering the Supplication of the Emperor’s Grace over and over. I slid back onto my stool, unnoticed, as Barick addressed the workers.

“What’s wrong with your friend?” he asked. They all looked bewildered, and helped him into a chair. He continued to pray.

Barick looked to me, and I made a discrete “get lost” gesture. He nodded once, already breaking eye contact. “Well, I hope he’s OK boys. You all have a good night, and enjoy that drink on me.” He laid some money on the waitress’ tray and made his way out the door. Venus stayed, looking very interested in her drink. So much for the master interrogator.

I decided to see if I could have any better luck, and even though it’s a cliché on more than ten thousand worlds, I waved the bartender over to pump him for information.

I slurred my speech slightly, and endured the barman’s halitosis for ten minutes of boring conversation. I learned that Saul, the deceased, used to frequent this bar, and that the numbers of patrons were dwindling. I learned that people tended to stay off the streets at night; there were rumors of attacks at night, but the barman thought people were just leaving the Coscarla. The only real nugget of information the bartender dropped was that there was a decent drug trade going on, and that if I was really looking for a good time I should get in touch with a ganger named Luntz.

I slid off the stool, eager to head back to the hostel. Venus saw me rise and headed out the door before me, maintaining the illusion that we weren’t together. She joined me on the opposite side of the market, and we walked back together, sharing a bit of a laugh at Barick’s expense.

Venus and I walked into room 3 arm-in-arm, both smiling. Everyone was there, and I greeted Barick teasingly. “Hey, there’s Loverboy!” He glared at me, but he knew I was just taking the frak.

“Well did you do any better?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes” I replied.

“Well what did you find out?” he asked. I told them.

Likewise, Sila and Ignace had used their time well. They’d found a mountain of information about the region, the crime rates, and more. There seemed to be a string of missing person reports, none solved by the local enforcers. Sila had also found reference in a buried report to a heretical group called the Logicians, but the report was sketchy at best. Still, it was the only local reference to any true heresy, so we put it in the list of possible clues, of which we had few.

As the hour was late, I bid everyone a good night, and turned in. We all knew it would be a full day tomorrow, and we were right. Doubly so, since our day actually started late that night.

I woke from sleep like surfacing after a dive, my every sense telling me something was wrong. As my eyes snapped open, I realized I wasn’t alone in the room. In the dim light, I could see two figures, the nearest holding a knife. I came out of the bed like I was fired from a bow, my fingers closing on the laspistol under my pillow. I leveled the business end at the intruders.

“Now let’s all just be very still”, I said, and rubbed sleep out of my eyes with my off hand. I bit back a yawn and glared at the two scummers.

I could hear the sounds of scuffling throughout the other rooms around us. Just then, my mirror wobbled and shattered, and I hoped that meant that Venus had just done something with her powers. The knife wielder still looked confident, but the other scum had pissed himself when the mirror went crazy.

“Lay down and put your hands behind your head.” Pissboy did. Knifeboy didn’t. He lunged at me, and I shot him in the face, and told the other to stay put. He whimpered, but complied, and I hurriedly donned my belt, holstering the pistol.

“Report!” I yelled into the hallway. A chorus of “Clear” answered me, along with the sound of pounding feet. I leaned into the hall to see Draylock, the hostelkeeper, making for the stairs. “Runner!” I yelled, and I ran after him. He had a good lead, but I had a feeling I’d done more running in my lifetime than he had.

I trailed him by maybe 15 meters as I exited the building, and I kicked into a slightly higher gear. I was stricken by the darkness, the night cycle here was punctuated by very few light sources, and some of those were merely promethium torches.

I had gained a meter or two on Draylock, and I could see him beginning to tire, heaving for breath. It would only be a matter of time. I was shocked, and nearly fell, when he was tackled from the side by a large, rag-wrapped thing with red eyes. It moved silently, making no sounds. What I could see of its flesh was sickly green, and though it looked human I instinctively knew that it wasn’t anymore, if it ever had been.

By reflex I stopped and drew my laspistol, the front sight coming to rest on the thing just as it twisted Draylock’s head 180 degrees with a sickening snap. The trigger pull came just as naturally, and a hole appeared in its torso. It seemed not to notice, and I took an involuntary step backwards as its red eyes locked on to me like two targeting lasers.

I squeezed the trigger again, and I was dimly aware of the sound of pounding feet behind me. I heard Barick curse, and knew he had seen the thing. We fired at it again, and it fled, ripping up a sewer cover and diving into the muck below. It had ignored our shots, making no sound at all. It had hefted the cover as if it were a box lid. I was more than a little worried about whatever it was, but we had to follow it.

Barick, Ignace, Venus, and I climbed down into the sewers, Ignace using the modified auspex to try to track the thing down. We spent an hour slogging through muck better left untouched, and came no closer to finding it. We decided our time would be better spent taking a long shower and cleaning our gear, so we climbed back up out of the drainage system, and returned to the hostel.

Sila had questioned the scum I’d caught, and was told that Draylock would invite the gang in to rob guests from time to time for a cut of the take. He’d picked the wrong guests this time, and paid for it with his life. I felt no pity whatsoever, though I was still disturbed by the zombie thing we’d seen. I had no idea how disturbing things could get.

Zarkov Chapter 4

This entry in Zarkov’s adventures is from another of the introductory modules, Edge of Darkness. In our campaign, we continued from this into original material, and it proved a fantastic springboard for doing so. Enjoy now the second tale of Inquisitor Jonas’ Acolytes.

The briefing had begun to drag, and I leaned back in my chair as the medicae-interrogator’s voice droned on. My mind wandered from the lab and the lights, and the body on the cold metal slab.

Our journey out from Sepheris Secundus had been an absolute ordeal; it began with a week long session of debriefings, mind scans, and medicae probing to be certain we had truly come through the Shatters unscathed. We all passed, our hearts and bodies still pure and free of taint, even after exposure to what Inquisitor Jonas called a “warp stone”.

Now we found ourselves on the big gray marble known as Scintilla, the seat of government for the entire Calixis Sector. Hive Sibellus, Scintilla’s largest city, sprawls some eight thousand kilometers in width, hugging the coastline as it reaches some five kilometers into the sky at points. It’s one of the largest hive cities you will see in the sector, with billions of people toiling at any hour on the clock. It was here we had been sent.

We were in a high hive spire, sitting with a Senior Medicae-Interrogator as we received our mission brief. The medicae stood over the body of one Saul Arbest, who lay there with his insides open to the harsh lights. The medicae wore blue robes, and was attended by three servo-skulls. His shaved head gleamed, reflecting the bright lights of the lab. His white gloves sported various fluids as he gestured with them.

“This is what did him in”, the medicae continued, holding up a milky-white organ that obviously wasn’t a normal part of someone’s guts. “Judging by the damage to his vocal chords, he was not anesthetized for its introduction. Note how it lay against the spine, and the tendrils it inserted into the nervous system.” He pointed out the slimy tentacles with a wooden pointer.

I watched Venus as her face turned pale, and lay a hand on her shoulder to reassure her. She smiled thinly in thanks.

“So its function is control or influence”, stated Ignace.

“Just so.” The bald head bobbed once, a reward for an attentive student. “And more than that, it is heresy, at best. At worst, it is xenos in nature. This we have not ascertained.”

“So he was a heretic?” Barick asked. He leaned forward slightly as he asked, his black Arbites armor refusing to reflect the light.

The medicae-interrogator answered as if giving a lecture. “We do not know. He was a worker until some sixty days ago, when he was released from his indenture. As many have been in the Coscarla segment. The place is, in a word, run down. He has no prior arrest record, and was reported missing thirty-two days ago by his sister, Lili. She remains, to the best of our knowledge, in the same habstack she shared with her brother.”

“What’s our method”, I asked. I was still reclined in the chair, hands behind my head.

“This”, the interrogator responded, “is to be a shadow work. As you shall be seeking secrets in the lower hive, you shall have a cover identity that brings rather less attention than blazing guns and a Rosette of the Holy Ordos.” His lips twitched into a passable smile.

Sila ran a hand through her blonde hair absently. “So what are our objectives?”

The medicae placed the organ back on the slab, and walked to us, ticking off each objective on his fingers as he listed them. “First, find our heretic. We need to locate the source of this abomination. Second, retrieve samples if you can. Lastly, if possible, apprehend. If you find threads of a larger tapestry, then you are to report and await further instruction.”

“Let’s get to it, then” I said.

We were led to the next room, where some supplies had been set aside for us. Ignace took up an auspex, which we were told had been calibrated to detect the tissues of the organ. We were also given bulky overcoats and IDs that matched our cover as hammers for the Coblast Assay, along with a small stipend of throne gelt to use for bribes, payoffs, and the like. We gathered our gear, and set off for the Coscarla Segment an hour later.

Our ride downhive was only a few hours, as the rail system ran straight into the Coscarla. Once a busy manufacturing area, the Coscarla had fallen on hard times indeed when their house lord had fallen out of favor. Contracts had dried up, a set of riots and fires had occurred, and now the Segment was scraping by, trying to stave off complete failure like a grox beset by pack-hounds. It knows it doesn’t have many steps left before it goes down, but stubbornly, it takes the next one.

The rail station at Coscarla was filthy, dregs of humanity wandering like rats in a maze to and fro, each with their faces down as they trundled along at a hurried gait. It was a scene I’d walked through before, as war starts to approach a folk, and fear begins to rise. Something had these people spooked, and it hit us like the wave of stink from burned habs and unwashed bodies.

There is only one hostel in the Coscarla Segment, so we made our way there straight away. Barick took care of getting us rooms, and we hauled our gear up the stairs to get settled in. I tend to pack light, and only had a single duffel to wrestle with. I helped Venus with her gear, then went to my room.

For a downhive hostel, the place wasn’t bad. The room was relatively clean, the bed acceptable, and each room had its own lavatory, which can be a luxury. The place even had data feeds, a reflection of a time only a few short years ago when this had been a more prominent Segment.

I opened the closet, stowing spare clothes and racking both my lasgun and shotgun above the door, after driving a set of hooks into the inside of the front wall. It’s my experience that people don’t walk into a small closet, and they never look straight up, always at the back. It’s an old trick, but one that leaves my weapons ready and relatively safe from discovery at the same time. You just have to be sure to clean up the dust from putting in the hooks. People always look at the floor.

I’d brought all my hardware for this mission. In addition to my normal arms, I had my laspistol in its holster on my hip, and places on my harness for a short monosword and the big revolver I’d picked up at the Shatters. I left the harness and my flak armour in the duffel for now.

A soft knock on the door interrupted me, and I opened it with a hand on the butt of my pistol. Sila’s pretty face greeted me.

“Ignace and I are going to start records searches, if you need us we’ll be in room 3”, she said.

“Chase it down, girl”, I replied. Between them, they could probably find any information we needed, provided there had ever been a record of it. For the rest, there was good old leg work.

“Barick and Venus are going to the Union Hall to begin their snooping”, she said. She almost managed to hide the note of disapproval in her voice. I smiled in response. “They wanted you for backup.”

“Tell them I’ll meet them there”, I replied. “I’d rather we not all show up as a group.” With that, I shrugged on the big black overcoat with the subdued Coblast logo on one sleeve, and headed out the door. I gave a friendly wink to Sila on my way by, and stepped into the hallway.

Lum, Chap 4

We rise in the first light of the day. Ivy glares at Kouki, a hatred in her eyes for the priest evident. I do not know what has passed between them, but it cannot be good.

Relowen and I are introduced to Zem, another of Eldrin’s men. He is a shaman, and carries himself with the same surety that Revikh does. As he eats, he wastes no movement, wastes no words. These are elders of a sort, and Eldrin their chieftain.

I wonder, for a time, at the power these men wield. They are shepherds, we are their sheep. I think on this. How many sheep wear pieces of crystal? We have met three more thus far, and both of these men, Revikh and Zem, have this “divinite” with them as well. There is some larger thing I am now a part of, some machine like those of the gnomes, and I am surprised to find I am but one of the gears.

My thoughts are interrupted as Revikh tells us he will depart for a time, taking Kouki, Yumi, and Chiyo with him for some “test.” I wonder if he will watch them fight trolls.

There is a flash as they teleport away, and the rest of us ride on.

I look to Drakha, seeing the half elf’s new scales. She has become closer to the dragons, I can see. Relowen speaks to her.

“Thanks for the rescue. I certainly think you’ve proven yourself in my eyes.”

I am angered, and I speak. “You should work to prove yourself in her eyes, elf.”

“Fair enough”, he says.

We travel on, the road long. We speak amongst ourselves, discussing the battle with the vampires. We have not yet spoken much of our selves, our histories. They likely have little meaning in the riddle.

I cannot ignore the hatred I saw in Ivy’s eyes, and so I walk beside her. I look at her, so young, so small.

“You look to the priest with hate in your eyes, Ivy. Why is this so?”

She looks at me as if I have grown an extra head. “He is the reason for every bad thing in my life. He’s why my parents are gone!”

This makes no sense to me, but I am not smart. I nod once, to let her know I have heard her. But I am silent for a time as I think on what she has said. It comes to me, then, that what she says cannot be so, unless the priest hurled the great rock into the city and commanded dragons. As I know this to be Shayan’s work, I know that it is not the priest’s work.

“But, Ivy”, I begin. “That cannot be!” Drakha catches my eye then, and shakes her head. They have had this conversation already. Drakha tells me that this is a side effect of the torture Ivy and Kouki endured when they were captured, while Relowen and I were in the vampire’s keep.

***

The Speaker once told me that a small thing may lead to something large, a pebble makes a wave that reaches all edges of a pond. So it was this day, as we met a young lady on the road. Her clothes wore the dirt of the fields, and she looked distressed to us. We greet her.

“Are you all right?” Drakha asks.

The lady nearly cries, telling us that her escort has become lost to her. “He has gone to ask questions of a druid he knows, and has not returned. We were headed for Sumter to see my parents.” The words spill out of her, like a cup tipped over.

“Do you know where this druid is?” Relowen asks her.

“No”, she replies. “He said he would return in two hours, though. So it must be close.”

Ivy looks around at us. “Well, go with us, I guess.”

Relowen offers his hand to the lady. “Ride my horse, I am light. It will be no burden.”

“Truly”, I say. “His horse doesn’t know it’s being ridden.” She favors me with a grin.

We ride on, and arrive at her village of Sumter. She offers us silver, but we decline, even Ivy. We need no reward. Zem, the shaman, nods his head in approval.

We go to the village’s inn, and Zem takes his leave from us to meditate. He tells us that there is a wrongness about the place, and he must look within for an answer. Relowen leaves us as well, to speak with others in the town. I order ale and dinner, sitting with Ivy and Drakha.

It is not long before Relowen returns to us, telling us he thinks the druid has gone missing, and that the area has an odd feel to him as well. A ranger and a shaman both, then. I loosen my axe a bit in the straps on my pack.

“We should check on this druid.” Relowen says, a pleading in his eyes. I look to Drakha, and she assures him that we will, when morning’s light shines. It is then that Zem descends the stair, a serious look upon his face. He pulls a chair to our table, and waves the serving wench over.

“Something is very wrong here. Be ready for a fight. One hangs near us like a spring storm.” Zem looks at each of us in turn, perhaps judging our readiness. I meet his gaze with hard eyes, I am no stranger to a fight.

As we talk and plan, the night settles in. In time, we each seek rest.

***

Dawn breaks to the sound of screams in the road. Relowen and I have slept in the common room, and we burst through the door quickly. On the road, we see what seem to be humanoid plants, and Zem facing them in the road, calling down lightning. Some villagers lie broken in the road, dead. Relowen and I share a glance, we are not sure how the shaman made it past us without our waking.

The plants are many. We charge, and I cut one down with my axe; it is a plant-mantis-needled thing that bleeds sap as I hack it in two. Drakha joins the fight moments later, and her fiery breath is deadly indeed, making one a pyre in the street.

I dodge and weave, twisting to avoid needled branches. I do not call the rage, nor do I call the beast within. These are not a challenge for us, but a morning exercise. I cut another down, clearing some space for Zem to work his magicks. We water the plants with a rain of strikes, arrows, and lightning, and finish them in short time.

I turn to see Ivy trotting up to us. “I couldn’t get my boots on”, she says in a huff.

“I will guard the dead villagers until they are taken to their final resting place”, Relowen says. I look at him for a time.

“You do that”, I say. “I will have breakfast.”

I leave Relowen and Zem to examine the plant creatures, and return to the inn to fill my stomach for the long day ahead. Ivy joins me, as does Drakha. Eventually, Zem and Relowen do as well.

Relowen tells us the basis of the creatures are natural, but have been twisted. He says that he will track them. I speak, a tone of humor in my voice.

“You are going to track plants through a forest? You will have my respect elf.”

We do not wait long, and set out quickly. Between the two of us, Relowen and I manage to find a trail, following dropped needles and bruised undergrowth. It is perhaps only an hour before we notice another plant creature in the path.

“Is this what we fought?” Ivy asks. I make an after-you flourish and say to her “Be my guest.” Relowen kills it with a single arrow, and before Ivy and I can glare at him, we realize that there are many now, and they have ambushed us quite well. Ivy destroys one with a line of power, and I charge into another, rending it into mulch.

source

I see three standing together, and hold my arms wide. “Come feel the bite of my axe!” I scream to them, and they oblige, rushing me. I focus on them, dodging their strikes and cutting when I can.

Behind me, I hear Drakha’s fiery breath, and Ivy yelp in surprise. One of my foes is shattered by lightning, and I take advantage of the opening to cut another down. A purple bolt of power strikes the last, and I finish it with a quick backhand.

I turn back to the group, a wide grin on my face. I see plant bodies lying about, like new-mown hay. We are fast becoming like a hunting party, able to work together well.

Relowen and I look to the spoor, and realize that there is no way to discern a path, there are needles all about. We decide to continue in the same direction for a time, leaving marks here to return to and strike new direction if needed.

We are only minutes away from the battle site when I stop. My nose tells me that there is rotten meat nearby. I have not stopped quickly enough, though, as the ground trembles and a great plant rises above us, a massive maw and long vines ready to assault us. There is no meat, it is a hunting plant. I smile. This will be a true fight!

I begin to advance, wary of it. My axe is ready. I am not as ready; it moves with the speed of lightning, and the vines grab me before I can move. Such speed! I struggle against the vines, but still the plant holds me. The others strike it, yet still it holds me.

The maw of the thing looms large, and I surge against it with all my strength, but it is for naught. Suddenly, I can no longer feel my limbs. It has used some sort of venom on me, and I can only watch as the world becomes dark and disgustingly wet as the great maw closes around me.

I can only guess at how long I am in the darkness, how close I come to drawing my last breath. Suddenly, there is light, and Drakha pulls me from my slimy prison. She touches me, her hands aglow, and suddenly I can move and feel.

“It will be many days before I eat a salad”, I say. The others laugh, and I join them with a grin as I roll in the dust to remove what acid remains on my clothing and skin. Relowen makes some joke about a dog, and Drakha smacks the back of his head.

***

We search from that point out, and hours later come to a clearing. Within this clearing, there is a shrine, and a body lays upon it, likely the druid. Relowen runs blindly into the clearing, foolishly. The largest, most vile plant I’ve ever seen rises above us, breaking earth and ripping trees in its fury to punish us for our trespass.

I call the beast to me, and the rage takes me as well. Ivy leads my charge with a bolt of power, but it is not affected in the slightest. One great vine swats at me as if I were a bug, and it is the hardest I have ever been hit before. I feel ribs snap and I stagger, punch drunk. It hits me a second time, and I see stars in the middle of the day.

I scream out in pain and rage, calling out to my ancestors, and I crash my axe into the body of the beast with all of my might, and perhaps some of theirs as well. I am dimly aware of the battle around me, of magicks striking the thing, but all I can be sure of is my axe as I drive it again into the thing. Suddenly, it falls to the ground, though I cannot be sure what has finished it. The forest spins around me, and suddenly the canopy above me fills my vision. I am on my back, fighting to draw breath.

Zem and Drakha work for a time over me, and I feel the warmth of their power flowing into me. I think that Relowen may have buried the druid. Zem tells us that we had found the root of the evil here; that the wind already blew cleaner. I am glad of this, as my body needs rest. We make our weary way back to the village, and share the news with the people there.

This night, I will sleep long and hard, and trust to the others to wake me if I am needed. I am sore, and need the rest. It will be a long path to Wroat.

Lum, Chap 3

A flash awakens me in the night. I roll to my feet, morningstar in hand, ready to do battle. I need not have bothered, as I see Revikh standing before us. His eyes are dark in the firelight; he looks as if he has not slept since we met. Standing with him are a priest, a monk, and a small girl in dark clothes…a rogue, perhaps?

My mind is slow this night, and we talk little. Introductions, names, not much else are shared. Revikh points out that they are like us, and asks us…nearly begs us…to travel together. We do not waste many words when we realize that they also bear the riddle of crystal. We travel, to Wroat.

We split up when we reach the town, and Relowen joins me to talk amongst the warriors and such in taverns, seeking news. We hear of strange things, gnolls perhaps, in the forest nearby. We travel, the seven of us, to seek and learn. We should have waited to the next morning.

We do, in fact, find gnolls. And we wage war with them. But something, some swift and terrible thing, some winged thing takes Ivy. Away, into the night. I run after her, and the priest flies with magicks, and Relowen runs with me. It is not long before we lose sight of her, but we run on, hoping to catch up with the wings in the darkness. It is not the wisest choice this warrior has ever made, but the Rage clouds my mind, and I wish only to crush whatever has taken one of my companions.

We run long into the night, until we must rest. My eyes must have closed for a time, as I am awakened by something moving closeby. I stand, ready to fight, the ivory Morningstar in my hand. I see the deathly pale visages of our foes, 8 by my count. They are wan, thin, but powerful. They smile to reveal fangs. I smile to answer them, and call the Beast within.

The vampires begin to slash at us, their claws cutting deep furrows into the flesh of my arms. I crush, I smash, and realize that I have put down two of them, and left more aflame by the magick of my weapon. I hear a cry, and look to my right to see Relowen fall under the weight of his foes, but I am too hard pressed to help him. I double my efforts, fighting as hard as I ever have, beyond pain, beyond reason. But they are many, as are my wounds. I smash another, but feel a dull impact on the side of my head.

All goes dark, and I feel as light as air for a moment. Then I know nothing more.

I do not know how much time has gone by when my eyes open. I can tell it has been long, as my throat and lips are dry. I feel weak, drained. My wounds are bandaged, but not otherwise treated. I am in pain.

I look over at Relowen, seeing that he is chained to the wall, as am I. He looks worse than I feel, his hair plastered to his head by dried blood, his face bruised. I twist against the wall and feel a sharp prick in my thigh…I look down to see the crystal knife, my riddle, sitting at my hip as if it were sheathed there…but the sheath, the belt, is gone. Its magick holds it there, another question in the riddle.

“Elf” I say.

“Mmmmf” he replies. He raises his head, opens his eyes, slowly.

“Are you alright?”

“Not even remotely”, he says.

I tug at the chains, and Relowen notices. “What are you doing?” he asks.

I glare at him, the answer obvious. He pulls at his chains, but has no more success than I. My heart catches in my throat then, my eyes wide, as I feel the crystal pulse, sending a wave of power into me.

“What is wrong?” Relowen asks, worry on his face. I answer him by ripping the chains apart, lengths still dangling from my wrists. I then break Relowen free, pulling his chains asunder as if they were made of sticks.

I feel stronger than I ever have, and for me, that is saying something. I grasp the door of our cell, and give a mighty heave. It resists me for only a moment, and I toss it against the wall of our cell. Relowen raises an eyebrow, but I have no answers. I merely pat the dagger at my hip, and motion to the hallway. Relowen leads on, and we travel the dark hallway to a staircase.

Another pulse swells within me, and I kick the door asunder. We are met by two vampires, and I call the Beast. My fingernails become claws, wicked and sharp. I long for vengeance against my captors, and I move to attack the nearest vampire. I leave a deep set of furrows across its throat, but it staggers away from my next strike.

Before I can close the distance, the door across the room comes crashing in, and two lines of black power envelop the vampires we face. They become man-sized clouds of ash, and I am shocked to find Revikh standing before us, bleeding from a dozen wounds.

He twists the gem on one of his rings, then touches himself, and I watch his wounds close. He repeats this with Relowen and I, and my thirst dissipates as my body is healed by powerful magicks. It is painful at first, then strangely soothing. We gather our captured gear, and prepare to attempt our escape.

“Revikh.” I say. He looks to me. I say nothing more, extending my hand to him. He grasps it.

“Thank you for acting with honor.” He nods, and then I feel magicks stir again. We suddenly stand in the great hall of a keep, which I guess is the same building we have been kept in.

A rich, deep voice speaks from behind us. “Leaving so soon?”

“Your hospitality is less than perfect” I reply. I turn slowly to see a vampire in regal robes, with perhaps 20 of his underlings nearby. This is not going to go well, and my hand grips the handle of my morningstar. If I am to die, I will make my death a good one.

“How long have you continued to live?” I ask.

“That is a rude question” he replies. I begin to reply, stalling for time, but Relowen interrupts.

“What are you, a woman?” The elf grins at his quip, but he has tipped the vampire too far. It raises one hand, and signals its minions to attack.

I will not die here, now. I am filled with rage, as the vampires charge Relowen and I. Revikh disappears, then reappears near the Vampire King, and they strike at each other with powerful magicks. As I stand ground, and begin to swat vampire claws away from me, I hear the great keep door being blasted by something powerful. This day is not the best day, but it may be the last day of my song.

The door falls, and I am ready for the worst. But surprise is mine, as it is Drakha and our companions who have broken the great keep door! The priest, Kouki, moves into the room and calls upon his god to turn undead. I see smoke rise from some of the vampires, but their king is unaffected, and moves with amazing quickness to strike the priest down. He falls like a puppet with its strings cut.

Revikh intercepts the vampire king, and they are hidden from view by the powers of their magicks as they strike at each other furiously. I watch for a moment as the monk grabs Kouki, pulling him away. He appears to be dead. I crush another vampire in front of me, ending its unnatural life, and spin to strike the one behind me.

It sidesteps my strike, and tears into my arm. I feel the pain, and I am driven to strike harder in my rage. Kouki and the monk return to the fight, surprising me. I would have sworn the priest’s death song had come. Relowen flees to the other side of the room, leaving me pinned on the wrong side of a wall of vampires. I will have words with him if I survive, and let him know he is a girl.

Drakha shouts to me to help Revikh, and I see that the vampire king has dragged him nearly out of the room. I cannot move to him, though, as 2 vampires are busy tearing into my flesh. Suddenly, Kouki is beside me. I hear Revikh scream, and this frightens me more than any vampire can. Whatever can make a power like his scream, is nothing I want to experience. I smash one of the vampires into oblivion, and Ivy casts her deathly magicks at the king.

The world goes dark, and I feel myself fall, the weight of my wounds pulling me down into darkness. I feel a light in that darkness, spreading within me. It washes away my pain, and I can rise again. My rage has left me, but Kouki’s touch has healed the worst of my wounds. I waste no time, unleashing all my hate in a vicious backhand, smashing the last vampire that had hurt me, crushing its head between morning star and bricks. I leave its black blood splattered on the wall like a halo.

Revikh and a man I do not know fight the vampire king, and I move to join as well, though it may cost my life. My strikes bounce off the vampire, and it ignores me as a seal ignores the cold. I can do no more than distract it, but I do so with all my might. A thousand thousand biting flies may bring down an aurochs.

The next minute goes by me in a blur of flame and magick, as we fight to bring the vampire low. Just when I allow myself to hope we will defeat it, it disappears and a flock of bats is there, flying away from us, mocking us in its retreat. The keep begins to quake and rumble, and we have only time for shocked and frightened glances at each other as we all sprint to escape, dodging falling stone and erupting flame. Rather than die with honor, this evil creature sacrifices its home in a final attempt to destroy us as it flees into the night in a hundred directions.

We escape, but only just. Some of us are wounded terribly, and healing magicks are cast. It has been a horrible day, but we all still draw breath, while most of our foes do not…and that makes the day good in my eyes.