23rd Day of Searing, 124th Year of the Age of Steel
The broken wall of the sewer had opened into a wide, squat cavern. On a gradual decline the soft muddy earth slanted down towards a branching set of caves. Masagh crouched in a crevasse about two thirds along the left wall. He could just make out Sabrione and Riah waiting for the Goblin King’s envoy. The Fademantle shifted about his shoulders slightly in the nonexistent wind, an eerie reminder of its’ otherworldly origins.
He had snuck out of the Compound for the first time since Emerande had given her impassioned mandate. It was never a good idea to depend on his mother’s ignorance, but they had been careful. Sabrione had made sure to disparage him for being a layabout visibly so his mother could see, then storm off with Riah. Masagh, playing the part, had stormed off to his own cell moments later. There he had opened a portal and slid into Slipspace, exiting on the street above. It was easy now, the neighborhoods above his home now only an inky black step away.
Sabrione had detailed the simple plan on the way. She and Riah would stand in the cavern that served at a common exchange site for their clandestine meetings with the goblins, and he would hide amongst the shadows. If the Kinvaren showed up, he would ambush them with everything he had and they would hopefully get the drop on them.
They were lucky the Goblin King hadn’t laid the blame for his three dead agents at their feet yet. Sabrione had done some hasty negotiating, gifting them an extra shipment of dragonshard enforced crossbow bolts and Mesmer wands. They had had to dip into the Creth family stock for that precious cargo. Now they hoped to be able to prove to the goblins that they were allied with the right side in this conflict. The strong side.
So, it was time to be the muscle.
Masagh heard the goblins before he saw them. Their shuffling feet were far less stealthy than the contacts he had seen in the past. When they turned the corner from the caverns below they were unfamiliar. Of course they were, the usual agents had been tortured and killed by the Kinvaren. These two were both stockier than their dead comrades, wearing banded armor and carrying hooked swords. Each had a gleaming Rune of magic under their left eye, though Masagh could not make them out.
So the Goblin King had sent some of his heavy hitters to the meeting. That was probably for the best. Clearly he was also paranoid about further targeting from the Kinvaren Vampyres. It was a good sign that he was still willing to meet with House Creth though. Masagh listened to the conversation as he turned his gaze back towards the jagged sewer entrance.
“Evening. Got any more news?” He heard Sabrione say in her cold approximation of politeness.
“You Weaponmaster Sabrione?” A gruff voice asked, ignoring her question.
“The one and only.” She answered.
“King wants assurances you can guarantee no more of his people die to protect your House.”
Well that was a hard promise to make under the circumstances. Masagh gripped the edge of the stone.
“Would be a lot easier if you had any more information for me.” Sabrione answered, keeping any emotion from her voice. “Also, you don’t have the cart…”
“No goods until you give assurances.”
A slosh of water echoed faintly from the sewer entrance. Masagh hadn’t taken his eyes off it, but could not see anything. Nevertheless he sent a dose of aether coursing through his eyes, changing them with Mimicry. He blinked his new snake eyes once and peered at the space with his new heat vision. Nothing. The Ghoulblade shimmered in his hands as he imparted a Blink Varnish on it. You can never be too careful when it came to those slinking Vampyres.
“Okay, I’m going to meet my best city contact at the Moldy Tap in Northside in two days. I’m sure he’s got a lead for me.” Sabrione relinquished hesitantly. “Meet again after that? We need to meet aggression with aggression, and we can. But not if we don’t know where to hunt…”
“Not good enough, King needs to know you are up to the task.” The same voice responded quickly.
Masagh could almost feel Sabrione’s ire from where he crouched. Her competence was not something she even endured questioning lightly. “I have been killing Kinvaren pretenders for centuries, redvein.” Her cold words hissed through the cavern slowly. “By Wraedan I will carve them apart. Now tell me what you know.”
Another slosh, this time slightly louder. A faint glow appeared in the dark gap of the entrance. Being undead, his heart did not race. Instead, his body stilled completely, poised to lash out. The hunger that was always present in his soul flared as the glowing face of a warmblooded vampyre appeared in the entrance. It was the hunger of a beast who had sighted its prey.
He did not move then, though it took all his willpower to remain in place. The face was soon joined by others. He counted seven individuals stepped into the cavern from the sewers. Four men and three women. They carried weapons and a few clutched dragon shards in their fists. That might mean they had magic beyond their Vitalis Runes. It was a good bet since it was widely known amongst the Kinvaren how little their blood magic affected Ghouls.
Masagh heard the goblin begin to form a response and knew he needed to act. They hadn’t seen the Kinvaren ambush. He Flung his Ghoulblade across the room with Dance and leapt from his hiding spot. The blade spun silently through the air towards the closest of the Vampyres. Still, the woman was quick and rolled to the side.
Masagh activated the Blink Varnish and the blade popped out of existence. It reappeared on the other side of the group and cleaved through another of the less alert man. The greatsword separated his arm and crushed through his ribs before his knees hit the ground. Masagh was already barreling towards them.
“Kinvaren!” He bellowed to alert the others.
One of the vampyres broke towards the others and raised his hands into the air. There was a yelp of pain and a gurgling from one of his allies. Masagh could not even spare a glance to see who it had been, though. The Fademantle rustled as it took it’s tax from the newly departed soul, siphoning miasma into yet another link in its chain.
He ducked one woman’s slash with a longsword and then Phased to avoid a pulsing spell that rippled through the air from another’s dragonshard. It tore through the cavern and hit the ceiling behind Masagh. Stone shattered and fell where it had hit.
He willed Ghoulblade to return to him. With the sickeningly wet sound of metal dislodging from flesh, it did. He met a thrust and then an overhead strike from the longsword. She was keeping him occupied as two more of her party flanked around him to charge his group. Another Kinvaren vampyre raised his hands and summoned in the air a flack of flaming birds. They tore across the cavern, sending spurts of flame at people and illuminating the space in orange light.
Masagh growled and shuffled back, blinking away his heat sight. He chanced a glance behind. Sabrione was fighting with the first vampyre who had surged past him. One of the goblins was a Negator, shielding his fallen comrade who was laying on the ground in a bloody mess. Riah had turned to face the flaming spirit birds.
“You are outnumbered, ghoul.” The woman with the longsword said, her eyes glinting red. Her veins pulsed bulged, her pupils dilating. Then she pounced forward with superhuman speed. Masagh met her lunge with a sidestep and a downward parry. He felt the impact of the blades and heard the ring as he stepped past her and brought his pommel into the face of the Summoner. He barked in surprise as the Ghoulblade’s pommel cracked a cheekbone.
But the summoner was a veteran, and so was the swordswoman. He snarled, bringing a dagger up and through the gap in Masagh’s armor. He felt it puncture deep into his gut. He groaned as he felt the longsword slide between his right ribs, grating against bone and tearing his lung. Masagh hissed into the face of the Summoner. He grabbed the back of the man’s neck.
The man met his eyes, fear leaking into his expression. He was younger, Masagh could tell. Perhaps only a few decades into his life. Interesting, the Kinvaren were recruiting. The man raised his hand to Masagh’s throat and he felt a heat touch his undead skin.
He leaned down and murmured into the man’s ear. “Ichor, not blood.” Then he pushed his face under the man’s jaw and bit into his carotid artery. Warm, wonderful blood surged into his mouth and Masagh shook with mirth. He palmed the man’s face and pushed him away as the swordswoman screamed and yanked her weapon free of his lung.
Masagh turned and brought Ghoulbade up his a sweeping horizontal strike. He had killed two of the seven. Three were fighting Sabrione and Riah while they covered for the goblin trying to save his companion. Bird spirits were still lighting the cavern and spitting fire, but they were fading fast. Their contract was over now that their summoner was bleeding his lifeblood into the mud. Perhaps they would stay and rage until physically put down, or they may slip back to where ever such things came from.
Masagh faced the two who remained to fight him. The Kineticist clutching a short sword and a dragonshard and the swordswoman. Masagh stood in a simple high guard, the sweet nectar of vampyre blood dripping from his mouth. He was trying to let the wounds heal a bit as they gathered themselves.
“The Coven will put you disgusting thralls back in the grave where you belong.” The vampyre spat at him, raising her longsword also. Beside her the Kinesticist stepped slowing to the left, flanking Masagh. Behind him he heard the sounds of battle continuing. Masagh ignored the rhetoric. He pushed down the image of Cynfael burning up in the bright sunlight surrounded by her predecessors. Had she even been alive one hundred twenty four years ago when his mentor had been taken from him? Probably not. Vampyres that old did not lead ambushes in the sewers.
“Why the renewed hunt in us now?” Masagh asked calmly. He could hear the cold purr in his voice, the rasp more alive with the vampyre blood coating his throat.
The Kineticist surged into motion at his words. Masagh;s eyes followed him even as the woman sprang forward with her blade. Masagh growled and twisted back to block her attack, exposing himself to the Kineticist. The man flung his dragonshard forward and a burst of force hit Masagh in the collar and shoulder. His shoulder exploded, ichor flying across his face. His arms slumped and fell to the ground as Masagh stumbled back.
He was able to imprint another Varnish on the Ghoulblade before they moved in on him to attack. Masagh lunged weakly forward with his blade at the woman. It was not a blow that would carry much danger with only one hand normally. But he released the Varnished transformation in the blade.
It shimmered and distorted, becoming a great crocodile’s head sprouting from the Ghoulblade’s hilt. It clamped down over her hilt and hand as he used the same magic to transform his own head. Masagh twisted his neck and lunged forward. Teeth parted and a savage rumble released from his mouth as another set of Crocodile jaws clamped over the Kineticist’s head and shoulders. He bit down and yanked his head back.
He felt the instant the man’s spine fractured and slid from his ribcage. Blood gushed in a cascade from the piece of corpse Masagh had in his crocodile mouth. He tilted his head up and let the head and worked his jaws. The head and shoulders of the man went down his crocodile gullet and he felt the warmth of life pouring back into him. He had eaten the heart in that bite. Again the Fademantle took its toll as well, miasma coursing through the air around him.
Masagh stumbled back, his blade and body returning to their primary forms. The woman had stumbled back too, clutching her hand.
“Masagh! Are you alright?” Sabrione’s worried voice said from behind him.
She thrust forward with her blade again and Masagh twisted. It was all he could do to avoid the attack after losing so much ichor. The vampyre heart he had consumed was doing its work to replenish him, but not fast enough. Still, her blade scraped along his abdomen and ribs under his armor.
The Ghoulblade fell from his hands as he reached up to grapple with her. His hand went around her neck and squeeze. He moved in close, setting his weight against her sword arm. They clashed to the ground with Masagh gaining the top. He squeezed hard around her windpipe. She backhanded him across the face, knocking his hood off his head.
He could hear Sabrione behind him. He only needed to keep her pinned down. The vampyre reached up and placed her hand against his around her neck. For a moment he thought she was trying to pry it off but then he saw her fingertip carving some sort of sigil into the back of his hand. They both seemed to wait for the effect, but nothing happened.
Masagh laughed a rasping cold sound. “I am Graveborn, redvein. Blood magic does not affect the pure lines.” He hissed.
She stared up at him as her face turned red. Then she shimmered and his grip fell through her neck. The vampyre had launched herself sideways out from under him and there was nothing he could do to grip her. She had Phased.
“Traversion.” Masagh muttered stupidly.
The woman smirked at him and her veins pulsed in her body once again. She bolted towards the exit. “Sabrione!” Masagh yelled as he leapt to his feet as best he could. His arm was still regrowing. The vampyre leader was gone, her form blurring with speed around the corner of the entrance.
He turned to see the rest of the skirmish. Riah was heavily burned in places, but that was inconsequential. She had also lost a leg at the knee and meet run through in the stomach, neither dire injuries for a ghoul. The remaining goblin stood huddled over his companion, trying to patch his wounds. Sabrione stood, covered in blood and sword in hand. She made her way over to him.
“One got away. She Phased through my grip.” Masagh said slowly to her, getting to his feet.
“Shit.” She helped him to his feet. “Eat, no reason to let a prime meal go to waste.” She said shortly, grabbing one of the corpses by the leg and dragging it back towards Riah. Vampyre hearts would heavily speed up their recovery. Masagh bent and picked up his lost limb. He carefully picked the armor and tattered garb from it. He would have to reattach it to his kit.
He bent to the grisly task of his meal. Sabrione moved off, the only one completely unharmed of their number. She spoke with the goblin in a hushed tone, offering to make a portal for him to retreat with his friend and promising vengeance on the Kinvaren.
“Told you, three against seven.” Her cool confidence carried through the cavern. “They will not survive this mistake.” Masagh finished eating his fill and staggered over to her side, Ghoulblade returned to his hand.
“Sabrione.” Masagh rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We need to leave. Can the goblin move?” He stared down at the red eyed goblin who was still conscious. The goblin stared up at him apprehensively. Masagh stared back. “We do not eat allies, friend.” He said after a pregnant pause.
“Right, right.” The goblin said in a thinner voice than before. So he hadn’t been the spokesperson. “I think he can move, but he’s losing a lot of blood.”
“Masagh.” Sabrione said quietly. “I’m going to take these two and Riah back to the Entrance Hall. Need to tell mother about this as soon as possible.” She hesitated. “If you are there… or she sees you hurt it will be bad. We can’t deal with that right now and the Kinvaren. Can you make it on your own somewhere safe to recuperate?”
He looked up at his sister. She was clearly worried about his arm and possibly regretting asking him along. It could blow up in their faces if his mother did something rash in her anger. He grinned at her. “I left from my cell. I can get back there and sit for a bit, maybe I’ll grab one more of these hearts before I go.”
“Better to portal back through the well, and dry off.” Sabrione said, jerking her chin at his armor. He looked down to find it covered in blood.
“Right. Can you take all of them? I can aid you.” Masagh asked. She scoffed at him and walked over to drag Riah over to the goblins.
“Goblin, carry your friend and stay close to me. Riah,” She reached down and lifted Riah across her shoulders with ease. “Up ya get.”
Masagh reached up and felt the stump of his shoulder. A few inches deeper and the spell would have blown his heart apart. But already the limb was growing back, the perks of fresh vampyre corpses. He set Ghouldblade against his shoulder and watched the entrance as his sister led her bedraggled party away.
Then he was alone in a room full of his enemies’ corpses. He rolled his head from side to side. The Kinvaren had known of their lack of numbers. Or what something else afoot? Did they have some other reason to up their aggression?
Masagh reached out the spatial pathways and constructed the Railway with his mind. When the portal crackled open, he stepped through with his mind still on the dangers all around his family. He needed to find a way to strengthen Creth, and soon. He ambled along the pathways, watching the thin light of the Slipspace lines pulse as his aether touched them. A moment later he was stepping out through another portal, back into Acillon.
He closed his eyes as he let the water of the well entrance purge the redvein blood off his form. Masagh spread his arms as he sunk slowing through the well to the entrance to his family’s compound. He would need to get to his cell and change. Idly he wondered if this attack would change his mother’s stance on his house arrest.
Either way, this was not over.
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