Karnov

by Matthew Knight

  Turning, ready to face another attack, all I saw before me was the lone stranger standing with his cloak about him, facing me with sword sheathed and arms folded—the corpses of all the remaining creatures scattered in bloody pools on the ground around him. He turned to me and spoke.

  “Impressive feat, I must say.”

  “You did fine work as well,” I replied, sheathing my own weapon.

  “I’ve had some experience dealing with these creatures.”

  “That I can tell. Do you know of their origin?”

  “I thought you of all people would be aware of that, Karnov…” The stranger smiled.

  I looked at the man questioningly; as I found it odd that he knew my name.

  Then I saw them—two pearly white fangs protruding from the crimson lips of his grin shining in the yellow lamplight.

  “Fiend!” I cried and drew my sword again. “I knew something wasn’t right about you the moment I laid eyes upon you.”

  “Halt, warrior.” The Nosferatu raised his hands. “I mean no harm to you or your kind.”

  “Nay! You are a vampyre, and therefore you shall die like the rest!”

  I lunged at him with my blade, but he leaped aside, quick as lightning, dodging my attack.

  “Hearken! I wish to aid you in this struggle…”

  I struck again and this time the vampyre drew his blade, parrying the blow.

  Thrice more I struck and was blocked each time… Then again… and again…We were now engaged in a one-on-one fencing match—my phantom-clad steel against his antique rapier, which never seemed to falter in its defense. Although my broadsword should have shattered the smaller weapon, somehow it did not. The pale nobleman was a flawless duelist, as he leaped and dodged, evading and parrying my every attack.

  “Hear me out, Karnov!”

  Obsessed that the vampyre must die, I ignored his every plea.

  I swung at his neck in an attempt to decapitate him, and this time his image faded into space and trailed off to the side as my hungry broadsword swiped thin air.

  “Devil’s trickery!” I shouted in frustration as I turned to where he had morphed and continued hacking away at his parrying blade.

  I started to notice that never once did he take an opportunity to strike at me. He was always on the defense and constantly trying to make peace. I thought to myself that this was very much unlike common graveyard vampyres who would normally be hissing and slavering, taking every chance to try and suck my veins, despite my otherworldly appearance. I also thought of how he had sought to save the two drunken youngsters, who would’ve been an easy meal for any prowling undead.

  “Damn you! Listen to what I have to say!” he yelled angrily.

  We were nearing an old, wooden selling-booth. I conjured up all my strength and battered his blade, driving him backwards until we were upon the structure. I then took an opportunity and with a massive blow, kicked him square in the chest, knocking him backward. The steel rapier flew from his hand making a loud klang on the cobbles. I then lunged forward. With my left hand I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the timber stand, pinning him there with the point of my sword against his breast.

  “Now speak, fiend!” I said. “For these words you’ve been yearning to say all this time will be your last…”

  The vampyre winced in pain, once again showing his fangs as the cosmic frost-energy of my mailed glove and seething steel was already affecting his undead soul.

  He struggled to speak.

  “I came here to seek you out… and request your aid, as I too am a pawn in this struggle against the Niaughu…”

  “Niaughu? Is that what they’re called?”

  “Yes, and I am one of the few who know of their secret, as well as the location of their lair. If you wish to banish them from this land you will need my help. The powers of the Cosmic Ice will only aid you so far…”

  “But you are a vampyre!” I roared and tightened my grip on his throat, preparing to drive my blade through his heart.

  “Yes—but a vampyre of a higher race that means no harm to mankind, and desires vengeance against those who plague this world with evil… vengeance against those who defiled my homeland… against those who slew my family! Does that sound familiar, Karnov?”

  I thought hard for a moment, considering this. I hearkened back to the vampyre seductress, Xycanthia—one of the few of their type whom I had held this sort of intelligent conversation with before—and reminded myself that this could well be more damned deception… but never before had I encountered a Nosferatu who spared young men’s lives and slew others of his kind. Looking hard into his cold, grey-blue eyes, I could sense honesty, pain, and a longing for absolution. At length, I released him.

  The vampyre fell to the ground holding his throat and gasping.

  Chapter II: Legacy of the Alunai (Vampyric Nobility Unveiled)

  I looked around and saw that the two of us were still alone in the square. Even with all the commotion, no one else had dared to emerge from the Wolf’s Bane Inn.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “My name is Asenthine,” he said, rising.

  “What is it that’s so different about you?”

  “Allow me to explain so that you understand: I belong to an ancient race of elder vampyres called the Alunai. Our glorious kingdom once lay in the far western land of Seika Heime—amidst the clouds, high on mountain ranges unscalable by men. There we dwelt for ages, reigning supreme amongst the other vampyre nations. Unlike them, we meddled not in the affairs of mankind. With our divine sorcery, we discovered ways to create fine vintages of blood from the Ether, so that we could feed without killing. This allowed us to remain unnoticed and unseen for aeons, honing our magic arts, loving one another, living freely, and creating fantastic inventions of the kind which mortals could only dream of.

  “After several centuries, other vampyre kingdoms gained knowledge of us and our great magic—which was more powerful than that of their dark necromantic arts. One such was the evil Cult of Ghormanteia from the Isle of Aschorzotha. Jealous of our superiority, the dark lord sent secret assassins into our domain. They were ordered to seize and capture Magus Garmain Orlock—one of the grand Alunai mages who was the mastermind behind many of our mystical inventions. After severe torture and torment, the mage’s eyes were cut out by Nesadomntha, one of Ghormanteia’s prime necromancers, and set into two black crystal orbs. They were then sealed with a magical spell, creating the powerful artefacts that you knew as the Eyes of Orlock. Not only did these relics give the vampyre foresight, but he and his wizards also inherited all the sorcerous knowledge of the wizened old mage, which of course, he would use for evil instead of good.

  “Using the sacred wisdom he stole from Orlock, Lord Ghormanteia and his newly empowered necromancers were able to summon a whole race of venomous, undead serpent monsters called the Thulagantar, which they harnessed under their control. The creature you slew known as White Wyrm was the last of this race.

  “With this foul breed of serpentine devils under his command, Ghormanteia sent the Thulagantar into the mountains of Seika Heime. The creatures invaded and attacked the Alunai within the walls of our peaceful kingdom. Scores of snake monsters slithered through the shining halls wreaking havoc, killing and devouring women, children and men alike, as well as destroying our inventions. We put up a good fight; casting protective spells and hacking the creatures with enchanted weapons. Alas, the Thulagantar were all too powerful, and at length, our kingdom fell to the serpent beasts. That was the end of our reign.”

  “How did you survive?” I asked.

  “Most of our race had been devoured on the spot, but some were exiled to other planes. The Thulagantar’s venom has the ability to transport one to other dimensions, as you well know. I on the other hand was one of the most unfortunate who were taken back to Ghormanteia’s newly-founded sanctuary—Castle Thornhaven. This, as you also know, was the old Archonea estate which had then recently been taken an
d desecrated by the Vampyre Lord. Since he and his minions had nearly depleted most of the usable blood that was then present on their native island, they were forced to find a new home.”

  Asenthine pointed to the mountain ranges in the distance where the deserted castle stood.

  “There I was held with a few other Alunai. In Ghormanteia’s court we were tortured and used in sadistic games, as he and his dark myrmidons reveled in our misery. We were crucified while zombie vultures nibbled at our flesh, starved for days and then fed liquid disguised as blood that would materialize into a living parasitic fluid inside our bodies, victimized by spells that would cause our souls to be temporarily removed from our bodies and then forced to do battle with the enraged spirits of prehistoric were-apes while we watched—as well as faced with many other treacherous horrors that I dare not speak of…”

  “And how did you not perish within those walls?” I interrupted.

  “After several years I was able to manage an escape. I had developed a romantic relationship with Noctivia, one of Ghormanteia’s favorite concubines. A raven-haired seductress who floated in spectral gowns, attending to the dark lord, she knew much of his obscene wizardry. The vampyress had studied the dark arts since before his time, and secretly knew many things he did not. Each morning Noctivia would enter my chambers covertly after Ghormanteia had retired to his crypt. During these intimate visits, I was slowly able to manipulate her, so that eventually she would answer my every request. The bastard may have taken my magic, but I still retained the clandestine sensual arts of the Alunai, which was unknown to him and his kind. Utilizing this, I was able to induce extreme mental and physical pleasures to his royal blood-wench which she had never experienced before. Doing so ensured her dedication to discreetly answer my every beck and call.

  “One day, I convinced Noctivia to cast a glamour of invisibility over me that was effective even to the likes of Ghormanteia and his black wizards. She surreptitiously escorted me out of the castle. Thus, I escaped and fled into the snow-covered mountains, running and hiding in the deep crevices while the daring witch’s spell remained effective. Upon discovery of my retreat, I was soon pursued through the mountains by the enraged Lord himself, who rode upon his sled driven by a score of three-headed devil-cats. Even with Nesadomntha by his side and the Eyes of Orlock at his disposal, he was still unable to pierce through the sorcerous invisibility in which I was enshrouded. Never was I discovered.”

  “If the Alunai’s power over women was so profound that you could manage this escape, how is it that no others were able to do the same?” I asked.

  “That is because soon after my retreat, the magical barrier was created. Many people believe that the force field Ghormanteia surrounded his castle with was to keep others from venturing in. It wasn’t—it was to keep those held within from fleeing. I was the first and only to do so.”

  I pondered this for a moment.

  “An interesting tale,” I concluded. “I shall trust that your story is true, since I myself have been in that cursed estate and have witnessed such horrors and witchery as you describe. Now that I know of your origin, pray tell how it is that you are so familiar with mine.”

  Asenthine’s eyes of ancient ice fixed mine in an almost hypnotizing glare. His crimson lips were grimly set, and his pale face was aglow, as the moon had risen higher, now outshining the dimming street light wicks.

  “The story does not end thus. After leaving the cursed estate, I journeyed back to Seika Heime with the hope that some of my people may have survived and somehow returned. Alas, the place was desolate. All I found there were crumbling ruins, half-disintegrated skeletons of my loved ones, and the destroyed remains of our once-beautiful magical inventions. I was fortunate enough to reobtain my armor and sword which had been left behind, but that was all.

  “Leaving my desecrated home, I roamed the earth disguised as a mortal. I continued to uphold the sacred morals of my race by secretly feeding on the foul blood of game, livestock and forest animals, rather than that of humans in order to sustain myself. Any vampyres I came across during my travels I slew mercilessly, as a great hatred for Ghormanteia and his kind raged rampantly in my heart.

  “I spent my days visiting the various kingdoms of man in search of good wizards and magic-users. It was my hope to find one who knew of a way to somehow locate and bring back my Alunai kinfolk who had been exiled to distant realms by the Thulagantar. I soon discovered a coven of powerful monk-clerics hiding away beneath the city streets of Zukatia. They accepted me and invited me to live amongst their ranks. Several of these holy mages claimed to be able to see into other dimensions by means of séance and meditation. I stayed with them for a year, studying and learning much of their arts. Unfortunately, we were unable to locate those I sought; however, my time there was still to my benefit, as some of the magic I had lost was regained by practicing their craft.

  “One day, while roaming the bazaars and marketplaces of the city, I saw much commotion and celebration in the streets. Hearkening to two gossiping shopkeepers, I heard them speak of an avenging ice warrior who was said to have destroyed the Vampyre Lord of Castle Thornhaven. As I moved on, more citizens were discussing the same occurrence. People embraced. Some were cheering and waving flags. There was even a lute-playing minstrel on a street corner singing of the ‘Triumph of Steel against Fang.’ News of your great deed had come to Zukatia, and the people revered you as a savior.

  “As pleased as I was to hear of this, I was hesitant to believe it was true. It wasn’t until consulting with one of the elder clerics, and seeing in a meditative vision Ghormanteia’s severed head at the feet of a knightly warrior in ghostly-swirling armor, that I was able to accept the tale as reality.

  “One day soon after this, I was hunting in the swamplands of Karagh-Guhl, not far from Zukatia. While stalking, I was alarmed by a loud, grunting sound, accompanied by a sloshing of water that was heavier and more violent than that which any forest animal would make. Hiding behind a thicket of reeds, I waited and observed. It was one of the Niaughu—the first I’d ever seen. The appearance of the creature piqued my interest. Although it was completely alien in appearance, by the look of its two elongated fangs and blood-dripping mouth, I could tell that it was vampyric in some way. It ran through the black waters of the swamp. Entering deeper water, it swam toward a large mound of earth comprising the north bank. Intrigued, I carefully pursued.

  “This mound I speak of was a small mass of earth, fungi, stone and plant matter protruding from the ground near the water’s edge. There was a small, black opening like that of a cave mouth. It was here that the monster entered, and keeping a safe distance, I continued to follow.

  “The stygian tunnel was hot and humid. There were torches burning along the walls and I could see a pathway of hardened dirt and stone that led downward. This I carefully followed, being sure to remain unnoticed by the dangerous-looking being I pursued. Eventually, I found myself at a precipice. Looking down while hiding behind huge stalagmites that jutted from the floor, I beheld a most surprising and uncanny spectacle. Below, in a large area of the cavern illuminated by orange-glowing brands, was a giant, obscene entity. It was round and appeared to consist of earth, clay, moss, and a multitude of decayed swamp matter. It had long tentacles extending from it and a large tube that was connected to its backside. It had a pinkish face with black, beady eyes, a pig-like snout, and a small mouth displaying short, razor-sharp teeth. This hideous living mass lay writhing in a pool of green slime.

  “Many large pods surrounded the thing on all sides. They were tall, oblong and made of a clear, viridescent substance which emanated a glowing radiance of the same hue. Beneath the gelatinous membrane on the outside of each pod was a living creature—same as the green tentacle-headed beast I saw running through the marsh. It occurred to me I had discovered the thing’s breeding ground.

  “Mounted before the monstrosity and its egg-like encasements was another curious specimen; coming from the ground ne
arby was a stump-like structure about six feet tall made of a black, fleshy substance. Embedded upon the outside of it were human eyes, noses, hair and lips, all of which quivered and pulsed as if alive. A vertical opening ran down its length which had rows of pointed, yet tubular, fangs inside. Red liquid dripped from this incision and trailed onto the floor. On top of the stump sat a huge flower. It was an orchid—large and grotesque. White with a red spot on each of its great petals that resembled eyes, the flower had a dripping mouth in the center of it that also contained deadly fangs. Horny thorns adorned its stem, and it swayed in the air, hovering above the tentacled abomination.

  “I was startled by loud laughter, as a figure in ebon robes holding an arcane staff approached the scene. To my astonishment, it was none other than Nesadomntha, the faithful and all-powerful necromancer-servant of Ghormanteia. None could mistake him, for his long, braided, finger bone-entwined moustache, and the moon-chalice symbol of the dark one’s cult tattooed on the side of his round, bald head, marked him as an eternal servant of the slain vampyre lord. Also, at his feet was his beloved pet, Sabarium—a huge vampyric black panther bred by the cannibal wizards of the isle of Iribos. Many nights in thralldom I’d been forced to defend myself against attacks by that cursed beast. I loathed the sound of its demonic purr. Although, seeing the detestable sorcerer again brought the fire of hatred back into my soul, I crouched down even lower behind the stalagmite to further conceal my presence.