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The Human From a Dungeon 65
🕑 Added 2024-08-19 13:43:02 +0000 UTCChapter 65
Master Vampire Kirain Yith
Adventurer Level: N/A
Drow Master Vampire - Balushenian
"Skull, what are these carvings?" I demanded, pointing the lich at the stone tablets laying on a desk.
"These are what remains of the weathered notes that I found during my explorations," the lich replied. "I do not know what they say."
"Liar," I dropped the skull on the table.
"I transcribed them in the hopes of finding someone who does," the lich said, unperturbed. "The pages that I found were in poor condition, to say the least, and would not survive if I were to remove them from this dungeon."
"Let's say I believe you. Why didn't you find someone to translate them?"
"As you'll soon discover, years have a habit of ticking away unnoticed when you are immortal."
"Sir," Habis excitedly burst into the room. "We have more intruders!"
"Perhaps I spoke too soon," the skull said smugly.
"Where are they?" I asked, ignoring the jab.
"In the entrance hallway."
"Send the youngest two. Conversion, if practical. Slaughter if not."
"Only two, sir?"
"Yes," I sighed. "The entrance hallway isn't broad enough to send everyone, and those dwarves will not be much of a loss. Even if we lose them, we will gain valuable intel in exchange for their sacrifice."
"What sort of intel, master?"
"We will know that the adventurers know how to fight vampires, and are likely here to do so," I growled. "Have you finished questioning my orders, or do I need to take your tongue?"
Habis bowed low, then fled the room without another sound. The control over my minions I had been expecting turned out to be much more lacking than I had believed. Mindless automatons had been too much to hope for, surely, but I had been under the impression that at least some of my creations would follow my orders without question.
The amount of effort I have to exude to maintain my control over the dwarves is particularly tiring. As it turns out, the vile creatures are resistant to suggestibility. Luckily, the majority of the disenfranchised in the town of Gowl happen to be elves and orcs. The pair of dwarves that were recently turned were the first, and if fortune favors me, the last.
Eleven vampires, including myself and the dwarves that I want dead. Far from the strength of the covens of old, but not exactly pathetic by modern standards. The adventurers that stumbled upon us are no match. Unless...
"Lich, what do you know of the gods?" I asked.
"Much more than I would like to," the skull said with what could have been a sigh. "Why?"
"Be rid of your questions, for I have my own. If a god were to warn someone of a forthcoming challenge, how imminent would that challenge be?"
"Either very imminent, or literal decades from now. It is rare for a god to warn anyone at all, but even rarer still will that warning be of any use."
"Why?"
"Well, let's follow the chain of logic to find our answer. Gods are beings with power beyond reckoning, yet they rarely use this power. Even when they do use it, they do so with more moderation than most mortals would even think to use."
"What relevance does that have?"
"Well, I believe you may be in a similar situation as the gods. Tell me, with all your power, why is it that you don't simply assault the town?"
"I see..."
An assault on the town of Gowl would effectively be suicide, and I am not foolish enough to believe otherwise. Even with all of the strength and abilities at my disposal, I would not be able to overcome the numbers that the town could produce. Is the lich implying that mortals would be able to overpower the gods with numbers alone?
Or perhaps it's referencing adventurers. While it is true that most adventurers don't stand any sort of chance against even a normal vampire, adventurers have the ability to become far stronger and faster than other mortals. It would be foolish to believe that there are no adventurers that could best me in combat. Vampires that make themselves known become prey to experienced adventurer parties.
That's likely the implication. There is something bigger than the gods, and if they misbehave it steps in. I had already gathered as much, though.
"Might I ask, vampire, are you a touched?" the lich asked.
"And if I am?"
"It would explain a great many things. Poor thing, wrapped up in the whimsy of the gods. A simple tool for their amusement."
"Pity?" I demanded with a laugh. "From a lich without magic? How far I must have fallen. Hear this, though, the moment I find your additional phylactery I will be smashing you into the bone-dust that you so richly deserve to be."
Before the lich could respond, I felt a pain in my chest. This pain was new to me, but its significance was immediately known. As if the knowledge of what this pain meant had been somehow engraved into my brain without my knowledge. The dwarves were dead. Both joy and alarm rose within me in equal amounts.
"Stay here," I mocked the skull as I rose. "I have something to take care of."
The skull made a sound that was a mixture of a hiss and a sigh as I left the room. The dungeon turned out to be much larger than I had originally believed. Half of our time is spent searching for new recruits, and the other half is finding new hidden doors. Some of the doors are trapped, but that's not a problem for beings that can regenerate.
Eight pairs of vampiric eyes turned from the entrance hallway to watch me as I entered the throne room. They had been nervously awaiting news of their brethren. I regarded them coldly as I took my seat on the throne.
"The dwarves are dead," I said casually. "Go. Avenge your brothers."
In unison, they nodded and rushed into the hallway. A small smirk spread over my features. Two vampires is one thing, eight is another matter entirely. The foolish intruders don't stand a ch-
I clutched my chest. It had been less than a minute, and already one of my vampires was dead. Isriv, a gnome that we had plucked from the trail. She had begged for mercy, to live, and gratefully kissed my hand once her conversion was complete.
The next to fall was Herin. The orc had been a great find, sleeping off a drunken bender in an alley behind the inn. He was relatively small for an orc, and life had not been going well for him. But because of this, he had a genuine desire to be used for my greatness.
Alus, Toril, and Patyr faced their final death almost simultaneously. Were it not for the searing pain in my chest, I would have laughed at the irony. The three sisters had been a trio of traveling merchants. As sisters, they had been together their entire lives, and had met their end in the same manner.
I barely managed to recover before Noriz and Malu perished. Noriz had been the most beautiful elf I'd ever seen, despite her years of living rough. Her golden hair had glowed in the moonlight as I bit into her that fateful night. I'd intended to make her my bride.
Malu was also beautiful, by orc standards. She had been the guard hired by Patyr to protect their convoy. She had fought well, but in the end Noriz and I had shared her blood.
"Habis... Run..." I gasped through the pain.
Habis. My very first conversion. The homeless elf had bravely, or foolishly, taken residence in the haunted manor that night. His gratitude for my interference in his fate led to him questioning me, but only because he wanted my success to be guaranteed.
A tear ran down my cheek as the pain in my chest confirmed his demise. The childish grin he had flashed that night burned in my mind. The sounds of footsteps and shuffling metal barely registered in my ears as my sorrow turned to rage.
I looked up at two dwarves and an orc. Every fiber of my being wanted to leap forth and tear them into little shreds of meat, but their formation struck me as odd. All three were covered in blood, but I could tell that the orc was wearing plate armor. It would be difficult to pry him out of that with the dwarves covering his flank.
No, I need to calculate this. They couldn't have killed my kin without fire, and these three do not appear to be mages. I stood as they stepped forward, and an arrow appeared in my chest. Casually, I plucked it from my sternum and tossed it aside.
Just as I thought, there were more intruders in the hallway. Two more orcs, three elves, and... A kobold? I nearly laughed. Is this the challenge that the gods present to me? It isn't even armed.
"Try to pin him down," one of the dwarves said.
"I'll pin you to the wall and make you watch what I do to your comrades," I growled. "Perhaps I'll turn them and make them rip you apart."
"Yeah, yeah fangy guy. We've killed all your friends. Are you the last one?"
I laughed, "The last and the first, and as you'll soon find out, the deadliest."
The air parted as I shoved my way through it, launching myself at the dwarf. His shield rose and the orc's pike tried to greet me, but I deftly slid past it. My fist slammed into the shield, shattering it into several pieces. The dwarf slammed into the wall as I turned my attention to the orc.
The pike-wielding orc was much larger than most, but the kick I landed upon his knee proved an old adage true. No longer able to support his own weight, he smashed into the ground. I bent to finish him, but only landed a punch to his face before I had to roll out of the way of an incoming axe.
The axe seemed to follow my trajectory, though, and bit into my shoulder. It shredded the flesh and dug deep into my collarbone. I rose to my feet and found myself face to face with another orc.
He grinned, "Take that you son of-"
My open palm slammed into his sternum, depriving him of the breath needed to finish his insult. I dug my claws into his chest as he collapsed to the floor. His heartbeat teased my fingertips as bones began to crack. Tearing the heart from his chest would make a fine trophy, and demoralize the other intruders.
A glint of light caught my notice, and I kicked at the dwarf that was coming for my head. The kick landed directly on his bicep, breaking the bone beneath it. My heel then connected with his head, knocking him out cold. Before I could do anything else, I felt a sharp pain in my heart-seeking arm.
Severed. I leapt back and glared at the...
"You're not an elf," I said as my arm began to regenerate.
"llaberif tsac!" it replied.
Pain and flame engulfed me as the fireball slammed into my chest. An ethereal screech escaped me as I tore at my burning flesh. The thing that burned me tried to attack me before I could extinguish the flames, but I batted it away.
I tore large chunks from myself and flung the still-burning flesh away from me. My regeneration made this a difficult task, but before long the flames no longer threatened me. I turned to face my opposition.
An orc sorcerer was bent over the axe-carrying orc I had felled earlier. The fireball-casting creature was being helped up by the two elves. My arm was lying near me, and I whimsically picked it up while my opponents struggled to regain their composure.
A new one had already grown. Once the elf-looking thing had regained their footing, I threw my arm at them. It ducked, and my arm sailed past them and into the entrance hallway. I tried to taunt it, but incomprehensible gibberish left my face instead of any words.
I put my newly formed hand to my lips and touched bone. A good portion of my skull was on-show, and my tongue was lolling out from the bottom of my jaw. The little bastard had got me good.
Fearing what may happen if my regeneration didn't reset my tongue's position, I tore it off. The pain was nothing compared to what I had just experienced, though. I focused my gaze on the pair of elves and not-elf standing in front of me and released a visceral growl.
Fireballs leapt from their fingers, and I leapt from the ground. I sailed over their magic and landed behind them. One of the elves was slow to turn, and my fist landed a hefty blow to the back of her head. My spirit soared as her face smashed into the ground.
The other elf was in the middle of casting another spell, but I stopped her with a punch to the gut. My next punch cracked her skull. I grabbed her robe as she went limp, and felt a connection within me as I caved her skull in.
I released the robe and stared in confusion at the limp body of the vampire for a moment before the not-elf's sword flashed in front of my face. Barely managing to dodge the blade, I lashed out with a kick, but the thing moved faster than me and slashed my thigh. With another growl, I threw a punch that connected with its chest, sending it flying into the nearest wall.
As it connected with the wall, a helmet seemed to appear on its head, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and the thing slumped to the ground. I regarded it for a moment, doubting my own senses as I licked my teeth with my freshly grown tongue. Finally, I turned to last conscious intruder. He regarded me coldly as I approached.
"Friend of yours, I presume?" I asked with my new lips.
"Brother, actually," the orc replied.
"If it is any consolation, your brother fought well. Only two of you even managed to wound me, and your brother was one of them."
"I'm sure he will appreciate the compliment."
I looked around at the myriad of fallen would-be vampire slayers. All of them were still alive, but gravely injured. I could smell the blood pooling within them, waiting for their heart's final beat. A very tantalizing smell.
The only exception was the vampire and the odd creature that had burned me. The vampire smelled dead, but the other thing gave off a very odd and repulsive stench. I've never smelled anything like it before, and never want to again. Speaking of oddities, though...
"What happened to the kobold?" I asked.
"I don't know. I lost sight of it when the fight began. Perhaps it fled."
"I see. No matter, it isn't any threat to me. So tell me, orc, why did you come here? Are there more of your ilk on the way?"
"We came here to solve a mystery, and yes. The Venator's Guild is aware of the vampire presence within these ruins. If we do not return, more adventurers will come. And they will be specialists."
"Well, it would seem that I need to start over, then," I laughed. "Perhaps I'll spare you and your brother. You can help me make a new headquarters."
I laughed harder as the orcs eyes widened and his jaw dropped. The thought of becoming a vampire and enslaved for all eternity must be terrible to the poor thing. My amusement abated when I realized it wasn't looking at me.
"No," a voice from behind me said.
Comments
DarkValorWolf
KOBOLD
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Ooh, this is a brutal fight. Now we see the difference between a vampire and a vampire lord. I have a feeling he was smelling Ten, and that Ten is now in control and is NOT happy with the damage the vampire lord has done to his friends/brothers.
