ItsDirector
patreon
The Human From a Dungeon 81
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 12:19:07 +0000 UTCChapter 81
Master Vampire Kirain Yith
Adventurer Level: N/A
Drow Master Vampire - Balushenian
I coldly examined the gathered vampires. Many of them had previously looked down on me for being a half-breed. Now, they're completely under my power. Of course, there had been some resistance when I took command, but those that were capable of shirking my control were quickly dealt with by those that weren't.
"Are we done?" I demanded.
"Nearly, sire," Count Hesseth said.
Count Hesseth stared intently at the blood dripping from the wound in my wrist, carefully gathering it into a goblet for the upcoming transference ritual. The spike that was keeping the wound from healing ground against my bone as I shifted uncomfortably. More than half of the thralls were now under my control, though, so it was well worth the discomfort.
It was like a dream come true. If I really wanted to, I could destroy the rest of the vampires and simply use these thralls however I saw fit. An entire nation that would do exactly as I say, when I say it, without complaint or thought.
Unfortunately, it's never that simple. As a nation, we would struggle to advance past my own knowledge. It would also be difficult to maintain relations with other nations. I would always have to be wary of my neighbors. No, it's best to keep at least some of the other vampires alive to aid me with governance. I will need to take care who I allow to live, though.
I dug my heel into my newest footrest, Count Alurgas Tuvino. He tensed, but didn't utter a single word of complaint. I felt that he wanted to, but I denied him the ability to with a sick glee. As I was reveling in this victory, a subtle hint of a familiar stench struck my nose.
I sniffed, offended by the odor, but it was no longer in the air. I tried to think of what the smell could have been, but despite its familiarity I couldn't quite place it. With a glare, I studied the gathered vampires.
"Did someone pass gas?" I asked.
Along with the question I sent a psychic compulsion, but no one admitted to the offense. I sniffed a few more times, but to no avail. Just before I became frustrated, the flap to the tent opened and one of the younger vampires entered.
"Your highness, I have a report from the front," she said.
"Go on," I replied.
"The wylder are now using shield formations that are making things difficult. They are also using spears. Our casualty rate is rising quickly."
"The goblet is full, sire," Hesseth reported.
"Shield formations... I see," I said, removing the stake from my wrist. "It would seem that a more experienced commander is required on the front lines. Duke Misgiel, gather the thralls that are currently under your command, with the exception of those needed for the ritual, and take them to the front. Get me every wylder that you can."
"Y-yes... S-sire..." the duke stammered, struggling with my control over him.
The duke turned to leave, and Count Hesseth handed the goblet off to his assistant. Both the assistant and the duke followed the messenger out of the tent. I watched as the wound on my wrist healed, slightly slower than it normally would. I would have to feed soon.
"There's got to be a better way," I complained.
"I'm afraid there isn't, milord," Hesseth consoled me. "The transference is over halfway completed, though. It won't be much longer."
I stared at the count for a moment, then sighed dramatically. Hesseth's obedient behavior wasn't a result of the direct influence of my power. He was naturally able to tell how superior I am to him, and immediately began to act accordingly. Since we had not previously interacted and I bore no specific grudge against him, I made him my primary assistant. There were a surprising number of vampires like Hesseth, but mostly younger ones, who weren't actively trying to fight my control.
Duke Misgiel, on the other hand, was fighting me with every fiber of his being. If I hadn't undone his self-modifications he would have wrested his will from my grasp by now. As it stands, one wrong move will see him free. I will have to either dispose of him before that happens, or keep him so weak that he can't lift a blade. The latter would be extremely satisfying, but the former is obviously the smarter option.
Count Tuvino is also actively attempting to escape my clutches, but his will is much weaker than the duke's. I can maintain control of him in perpetuity, unless I am somehow weakened. I glanced at the rest of the gathered vampires, about half of which were fighting just as hard as Tuvino.
Should I just kill the ones who are attempting to resist me? I have been wronged by many of them, and it would rather easy to force them to stand upon a lit pyre. The number of actual vampires in this area is beginning to dwindle, though. If I kill these ones, it's entirely possible that our population will be too small to maintain any sort of semblance of dominion over the Night Kingdom. Hells, we'd struggle to hold order over a duchy.
Perhaps it would be wiser to keep them alive and simply convince them that going against me is foolish. If I do that, though, I will have to dodge intrigue and attempts on my life. That will be inconvenient, but what else could I reasonably expect from becoming a king?
This is all assuming that I am able to retake the Night Kingdom in the first place. Lofin's forces have been defeated, but whether or not the orcs will accept his surrender or take his head has yet to be seen. If they kill him, they will either install a puppet or take control of the Night Kingdom themselves. I laughed a bit internally at the thought of the high-society drow becoming tribal like the orcs.
On the other hand, if the orcs take control of the Night Kingdom it's entirely possible we can retake it without much of a fight. It's a long shot, to be certain, but perhaps we can negotiate with them. We already plan to invade the Unified Chiefdoms once we have enough thralls. Instead of converting every orc we capture, though, perhaps we can take them hostage...
The faint stench hit my nose once again, firmly interrupting my contemplation. The odor triggered a reflexive gag, but more frustrating than the physical symptoms it brought was the familiarity of it. I HAD smelled this before, but where? When?
It was foul smell. Like a poisonous concoction of meat and molten metal. Blood, copper, a hint of iron, and salt. I struggled to remember where I had last smelled this repugnant compilation of odors when the answer suddenly came to me like a flash of lightning on a stormy day.
"THE DUNGEON!" I shouted involuntarily.
"Pardon, milord?" Hesseth asked.
"How can he be here, though?" I demanded, ignoring the count. "WHY would he be here?"
Panic made its way into my chest as I recalled the fight that nearly spelled my end and the possible death that the higher one had shown me. Quickly, I rose from my seat and rushed out of the tent, dimly aware of Hesseth following me. I glanced around wildly until I spotted a watchtower. With one smooth motion, I leapt to its peak.
"Sire?!" Hesseth shouted from the ground.
"Quiet!" I shouted back.
I scanned the horizon, searching desperately for signs of the malformed creature that had defeated me. The scent practically assaulted my nostrils. It would be a simple matter to track it down, but I shuddered at the thought of fighting it again.
As I cursed my cowardice, my eyes darted madly around our camp. Brood snarled and clawed at each other over scraps of drow flesh. The younger vampires went about their tasks, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking in their midst. Thralls stood around mindlessly, awaiting further orders.
Then my eyes found Duke Misgiel. He was walking toward the thralls, presumably to complete my demand. The smell was coming from his direction...
"Sire, with respect, the meaning of this is lost upon me," Hesseth said, climbing up next to me.
As I continued to ignore the count an eerie feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. I found myself unable to take my eyes off of the duke. The more logical side of my brain told me that I was simply being dramatic, that what I thought was about to happen couldn't possibly happen. The less logical side of me debated whether I should try to save him. He's too weak to be of use in the ensuing scuffle, though, which would turn the fight into a one on one battle against that creature before reinforcements could arrive.
I stood frozen, hoping that I was mistaken. I took a few deep breaths but just before I regained my composure, it happened. An elf-like creature leapt from a bush and decapitated the duke. It was so quick that if I had blinked I'd have missed it. In the very next instant, the duke was alight.
"Oh my," Hesseth whispered.
A low growl escaped my throat, but whether it was from anger or fear was unknown even to me. I felt my control of the duke fade away as his soul slipped from his corpse and into the prison that the higher ones keep those like us in. The human glanced around, as if to verify that its actions went unseen.
"What do we do, sire?"
"I suppose we shall have to kill it," I replied coldly. "Somehow."
Before I could react, though, a crow landed behind the human and transformed into a feminine shape. Despite the distance between us, I could feel the power of the arch-fae. It placed its hand upon the human's shoulder, and looked in my direction. Our eyes locked, and it winked at me before they disappeared within a maelstrom of light and darkness.
"Or not," I growled. "Hesseth, what will become of the thralls that have not been transferred to my control?"
"I-I'm sorry, milord," the count stammered from a mixture of shock and nerves. "Th-they're useless to us now."
"I suspected as such," I sighed.
"Sire, what WAS that?"
"That was a creature that is favored by the higher ones. I assume it was brought here by the very same arch-fae that aided its escape," I sat on the roof of the watchtower. "The wylder likely believed the duke to be the sole commander of the thralls. Technically, since it was only HIS thralls on the field of battle, he was."
"I... I see. What do we do now, your highness?"
"If we keep up this fight, that creature is bound to visit us again. I suppose it would be possible to set a trap for it, but doing so would take away from our efforts on the battlefield. Ultimately, it may prove futile. Or fatal. How many thralls were about to be transferred?"
"I'm not certain, sire. I'd say a third of what was left, perhaps."
"See if the transference was completed, then meet me in the command tent."
"Yes, milord."
Hesseth leapt from the tower and began to run toward the ritual pit. I stood and watched the duke's body burn for a bit longer. A small measure of anger stirred within my chest. I'd wanted the satisfaction of killing him.
With a frustrated sigh, I rose and stepped off the tower. Dust rose to greet me as I landed firmly and continued to walk directly into the command tent. I took my seat and made a point to put my feet up, causing Tuvino's mind to scream in frustration. This helped to lift my spirits, and a few minutes later Hesseth rushed into the tent.
"Sire, half of the third made it through the ritual and should be under your control now."
"How many do we have in total, including brood?" I asked.
"Roughly twelve thousand, your majesty."
"Our goal was fifteen thousand strong," I sighed. "No matter, it will have to do. Duke Misgiel has been assassinated by the enemy. The method utilized is not preventable. As such, we're going to march against the Unified Chiefdoms. Our goal will be to establish a foothold and begin taking hostages and converts. Thoughts?"
I lessened my grip on the minds of the gathered nobles, with the exception of Count Tuvino. They stood quietly for a moment, readjusting to having control over their faculties.
"What are the hostages for?" one of the nobles asked.
"Negotiations. As you may know, the Unified Chiefdoms have allied with the Empire of Calkuti and Bolisir. Even if we convert every orc that we get our hands on, we're going to have difficulty fighting against these allied forces. Instead, we'll grab as many orcs as we can and hold them for ransom."
"What will the ransom be?"
"The Night Kingdom, handed over to us on a proverbial silver platter. We will, of course, convert some of the stronger orcs to vampirism. This will demonstrate our sincerity and urge a quick decision from the leadership of the Unified Chiefdoms."
"Won't the wylder attack us from the rear?" one of the other nobles asked. "It'll be a fight on two fronts."
"No. The wylder will not travel beyond their forest, even to save those we've captured. Once we leave this place, we'll be able to focus entirely on defending against the orcs."
"Not something you're very go-"
The uppity noble fell silent as my power once again gripped his mind, much harder than it had previously. A bit of drool dripped from his mouth as the other nobles looked at him nervously.
"We will leave at once," I said tersely. "The longer we wait, the more soldiers we stand to lose. Get the brood that serve you under control and prepare to march."
I exerted my power over them once again, ensuring their compliance. One by one, they each left the tent, and I supervised the servants as they began to pack everything up. Within three hours, we were ready to move out. I found myself amazed at what a little psychic domination can accomplish.
All twelve thousand of our troops and prisoners fell into a loose formation, guided by my direction. I mounted a hnarse, and we began moving to the south-east. The wylder were loathe to let us leave unvexed, and launched a few minor offensives against our flanks. They were easily dispatched, and before the end of the day we'd finally left the forest. Things had finally turned boring when Hesseth came sprinting from our left flank.
"Sire!" he shouted, running up next to my hnarse. "There are... Some... Uh, things that want to meet with you."
"Things?" I demanded. "What sort of things?"
"You know us as daemons, Master Vampire Kirain Yith, former Master General of the Night Kingdom."
Two figures seemed to suddenly appear behind Hesseth. They had the appearance of elves, but even without the reveal their smell betrayed them. The smaller of the two had spoken, and the larger one stood silent.
"An odd development. Your kind are not exactly welcome on this plane. What would daemons want with vampires?" I asked cautiously.
"We have been keeping an eye on things, of course. And as such, we couldn't help but notice your... Struggles. You find yourself in dire straits," the small one laughed. "Tell me, if your current plans do not work, what then? Will you finally abandon all hope of retaking the Night Kingdom? Or would you continue with a new, more far-fetched plan?"
"I do not appreciate your tone, invader. I ask again, what business is it of yours?"
"Introductions first. I am Thalomus the Immolator, this is Hirgarus the Decimator," the disguised daemon grinned. "We would like to offer you our aid."
"A deal with daemons?" I laughed.
"No, a deal with the hells."
My laughter died in my throat as I found myself intrigued. I raised an eyebrow and studied the daemon for a moment.
"How and why would the hells aid us?"
"We are going to invade this plane again in the near future. If you and your army join our invasion, we will grant you the Night Kingdom as a reward for your service."
Ambivalence overcame me for a moment. A daemon army would be far more likely to succeed than negotiations with the Unified Chiefdoms. The daemon had been spot on in calling my plan far-fetched. I wondered if he knew about the full extent of my plan, or had simply made an assumption.
"And what of our current plans?" I asked.
"Abandon them," Thalomus said with a wave of its hand. "Your odds of success are much better with us than with whatever you have planned within the Unified Chiefdoms."
An assumption, then. Good, I wouldn't have to destroy a spy.
"Will our independence be assured if we join you, or will we be required to bend the knee?"
"The Night Kingdom will remain completely unmolested by the daemons for as long as we rule the plane. Well, assuming you comply with SOME demands, but the details of those can be ironed out with my masters."
"And how do I meet with them?"
"You and your army will accompany me back to the hells. Your safety will be assured during and after the negotiations. If you decline, you and your army will be returned to this plane at this exact time and place. If you agree to join us, you will be housed and fed until your might is required."
The offer was more than tempting, but daemons are known for their dishonesty. They put tricksters to shame, in fact. On the other hand, if we decline we will have to face them when they invade. If we are forced to fight the Unified Chiefdoms in any capacity, it will be unlikely that we will be back up to full strength by the time the daemons invade. I can either continue on my current path and hope for the best, or I can take the chance that they are being genuine with their offer. Oh, to hells with it.
"Fine. I'll meet with your leaders," I said.
Comments
Aerowarrier
Guy went from being favored by a god to making deals with daemons. Oh how the great fall far
ItsDirector
The grin I had on my face as I typed that xD
Ben Bass
TYFTC! And the daemons show their hand. In one move they could weaken the armies on this plane and gained an ally. This is going to be very interesting. I do wonder if whatever deal the Master Vampire comes up with will/could still be upheld if he dies.
terry charron
Well you would think this a trap but that is way too easy. But what choice does he have?
DarkValorWolf
"to hells with it" ha!
