Duels with Vampires

(City of Karennal, Trialt, 10th January, 1601)

Of course, Mazahir had been half-expecting things to turn out this way. Jumping back, he too drew his sword, shielding his eyes against the sunburst's glare as he did so. Then the two sworn enemies went at each other hammer and tongs, while the bar's patrons scattered yelling and cursing and the barman disappeared out of sight behind his bar.

The Daywalker's sword flickered, and Sack's blood spattered the floor; wounds from the Blade of the Sun and the Bloodfang rent the vampire's armour and scored his undead flesh. Mazahir's urbane confidence ebbed, as he realized the full extent of the half-orc's skills, and he was beaten backwards.

Suddenly, the Bloodfang slashed down his face, disorientating him, and the Sunblade slashed deeply into his neck. For a moment he stood still - was there a trace of release in those deep eyes? - and then his head toppled bloodlessly from his shoulders and his body dropped to the boards. Mazahir Daywalker's long life was finally over.

Gasping for breath and not really believing his luck, Sack leaned against the bar until he recovered a bit. Then he smashed a chair, slashed a point onto the end of a leg with his sword and staked the corpse with it; shoved garlic into all of Mazahir's bodily orifices, and started a small fire to incinerate the head.

Partway through this grisly process, he looked up and became aware of a Dragonarmy patrol looming in the inn's doorway, ten grim humans headed by a hulking lizardman. Scowling, the lizard asked him what the hell he thought he was doing. Sack pantomimed vampirism and gestured to the body. The lizard looked at the body, then glanced out through the window at the dying afternoon sunshine. Sack dug out his Renders' membership pin and flourished it.

"All right," said the officer. "Just tidy the damned mess up." Sack produced a small pile of gold coins and dropped them on the bar; as if summoned from the depths by the musical chink, the innkeeper appeared like magic and started smiling. A pot of ale appeared, apparently "on the house".

Opening his Bag of Holding, Sack crammed Mazahir's immortal remains inside. The lizardman was thunderstruck by this - never seen one before, obviously - and stared into the depths with amazement, though he refused Sack's offer of a trip inside.

Leaving the Inn, Sack returned to the Renders's house and stashed his plunder, before making utterly sure the body had been destroyed. Then he put the word out through his contacts to try and locate Mazahir's residence.

(City of Karennal, Trialt, 14th January, 1601)

Some days later, the meeting took place with the Grand Master of the Order of the Renders of the Dark. The Master - Caradoc by name - was a small, unimpressive looking man, but when he talked he revealed great oratorical powers. He described to the gathered Renders of Karennal the upsurge in vampire activity that had been observed wherever the Order operated - but more than anywhere else, in Karennal itself.

He complimented Kelson on how well he and his group had done against this, and confirmed that he'd be leaving reinforcements with them. Then he introduced his companion, present as a representative of the Temple of Aderra - the Order's biggest sponsor - Sigred of Narthal.

Sack, Surya, Kobort and Hildraft were rather nervous of how he would react to them - after all, his Archpriest had hired them to return Mergil to Stryre, which they hadn't - but when he spotted them in the crowd he waved cheerily, indicating that this might not be a problem. Sigred spoke simply and directly, reciting the Kingmaker Prophecy to the Renders and explaining his reasoning of what it meant - which pretty much paralleled that of Surya, Sack and co. He described the state of the southern lands of Alair: the nomads of the Red Dust rising against the Stryrans; the Stryrans and Erlyid preparing to march against the Elves; the Orcs already into the Desolation and warring with their age-old enemies; the deeply religious people of Nhased almost unaffected. Sigred had spent years working undecover in the Dragonrealms, motivating people to rise up and resist the Dragon; and he was a senior priest of the Goddess of Knowledge and Magic. He knew a lot about human nature.

His concept of the Kingmaker showed it as a focussing agent, inducing or encouraging slight feelings of resentment against the Elves in normal people, and channeling those up through the threads of loyalty that link leaders to followers, to converge on the leaders of armies, warping their thinking and bending them to the will of its' masters.

The meeting ended, and Sigred warmly greeted the four heroes, shaking hands and commenting that the eventual use Mergil had been put to seemed a good outcome to him - though he warned them that Vardar Peacock and Archpriest Delloch were not so relaxed about it.

He discussed the Prophecy with them, and promised to use his resources to try and find out more about Kingmaker and Tormentor. When Surya mentioned the latter, he looked thoughtful, and commented - appropos of nothing - that the blade was last recorded captured by the Dragon; "so it must have been in the treasury at Vorsand, then," he said.

Several hours later saw Sack, Hildraft and Surya at the rundown house in the Downtown that - according to the Thieves' Guild - Mazahir had been staying at. The little old lady who answered the door looked dubious at Sack's suggestion that he was a relative of Mazahir's, come to collect his belongings, but a few coins soon persuaded her. She led the way up to the room the Daywalker had stayed in. No, he hadn't had a horse stabled anywhere. He'd been here a week or so, she said.

Rummaging through the room, they found a few changes of clothes, some extra weapons, a few coins, and an extensive collection of books. Most were authored by Mazahir himself. Over half were his personal diaries, covering his nine hundred-plus years of life and unlife. Aware that this was a goldmine of possible information, the half-orc collected the whole library together and tucked them into his Bag.

He then turned to the window and examined it thoughtfully. Opening it, he climbed out onto the roof and had a poke around. Attached to the chimney, he found a waterproof packet containing dozens of maps hand-drawn by Mazahir himself. He brought these back inside, and spread them on the table.

Examining them, the companions discovered them to be beautifully drawn and deeply detailed. Among many others, they found maps purporting to show lands far to the east, beyond the Erean Mountains; maps showing both the outside of the orc-hold Gaduhvras and some idea of the inside layout (these dated about four hundred years ago); and maps of the more southerly reaches of the Ereans where the Dwarf cities lay. Hildraft was amazed to realize that Mazahir's maps were actually significantly better than those produced by the dwarves themselves.

The three decided to settle in to the room for the night, just to see if anyone came to call on the late unlamented Mazahir. Stringing Sack's silvered cheesewire across the window at around head height, they tucked themselves out of sight around the room and waited.

Around four in the morning, a fluttering movement outside the window was immediately followed by a swoosh as a large black bat swept up to the window, transformed into a human-shaped figure just in time to step in through the open window, and promptly died - bloodlessly - as its' head was neatly scythed off by the deadly wire trap.

The remaining vampires swooped in past the wire before transforming, and materialized in the room itself. Two of them were dressed in fairly modern clothing, the fourth was mailed and armoured in very archaic style. Sack instantly recognized this as a high-clan vampire, probably a lesser member of Clan Ventrue. Tall and thin, with an angular face and deep, powerful eyes, this one looked at Surya, ran his eyes down to the Sword of the Dead Legions, and up again; he gave a little nod, as from one professional to another. He spoke.

"I take it from your presence here that you are responsible for the death of the renegade Mazahir?" he enquired pleasantly. They nodded. "It was neccessary," he went on, "he was spreading ...wild tales, unlikely ideas about our Kindred."

Sack and Surya affected to look puzzled, but beside them Hildraft muttered a snatch of the Service to Lolth, in the original Fae Mhor. A look of shock crossed the Ventrue's face, and he cried "They know! Get them!". All hell broke loose.

The two lesser vampires attacked Hildraft and Sack, and with their combination of specialist training and holy power, the two made fairly short work of them. The Ventrue drew his sword, and when Surya's blade clanged against his own, smiled a peculiar, relieved smile.

It wasn't long before it was clear that the vampire was doomed if he stood his ground, and suddenly he slipped into his gaseous form in an attempt to get away. Surya leveled the Sword of the Dead Legions at him and demanded "Stay!" The Tellaran had used the Sword's powers over the dead and Undead before, and they had cost him considerable mental effort. Nothing like this! Suddenly he found himself fighting for his life against a tsunami of mental pressure; sweat poured down his face. The swirl of gas, however, didn't move; the two were balanced almost perfectly, locked in combat as each tried to dominate the other.

Hildraft acted to break the balance. Casting Hold Undead, he took over the job of restraining the vampire, freeing Surya to act physically. Instantly, the warrior slashed out with the Sword of the Dead Legions - and struck true, slaying the creature immediately.