Karnov

by Matthew Knight

  “‘You are doing well, Esmadrunga,’ he addressed the monstrous creature. ‘Soon the world will have a new breed of vampyres to contend with. We must overwhelm them in numbers. Continue the spawning!’

  “As he raised his staff in the air, two creatures emerged from an area behind him; they were brown, wart-covered humanoids with webbed feet. They had the heads of giant toads. The creatures walked side by side, each holding between them the arm of a dark-haired naked woman who looked to be around thirty years of age. She walked with them as they led, not struggling or resisting, but staggering lazily as if in a drugged trance. Her countenance was pale, and I saw there were two pointed fangs protruding from her lips. She was a vampyre; newly-changed, by the look of the two bleeding puncture wounds on the side of her neck.

  “Nesodomntha laughed evilly as the toad-men led the lethargic Nosferatu to the fleshy base of the giant orchid. When they approached, the vertical incision that ran down the foundation opened wider, further revealing its fanged, gurgling chamber. The creatures placed the vampyre inside and quickly moved away. The walls of the thing’s orifice immediately snapped shut, crushing her inside and causing blood to spurt out between the small crease of the now-closed incision. The noise of crunching bone could be heard, as well as a sucking and swallowing sound, while the thing devoured the undead woman’s body.

  “As the strange mound ingested the vampyress, the giant flower attached to it activated. Spreading its leafed extremities, the mutated orchid sprayed purple pollen from its mouth into the air and onto the grotesque being before it. When this dust was breathed in through the pig-snout of the mountainous thing, it sighed and looked dazedly (if that were possible for a creature such as this). Soon afterward, it shuddered and from the pink, tubular shaft attached to its backside, a fresh pod shot out, accompanied by more green slime. It slid across the cave floor and landed to join the others. Within the clear walls of its membrane, I could see the green fetus of another mutant vampyre such as I encountered in the swamp.

  “‘Yes! Bring forth another!’ Nesadomntha roared.

  “The toad-men came forth once again carrying a drugged-looking male youth who also appeared to be a newly-changed vampyre. They shoved him into the plant-thing’s horrid chamber and the same thing occurred. At this point, I had seen enough and quietly made my retreat out of the cave.

  “Returning to the clerics’ hideaway beneath the city streets, I learned on that same day there had been attacks in Duros Zuil and Zukatia by these creatures whose breeding ground I had discovered. I told the elder clerics of what I witnessed in the marshland cave. They informed me that the monstrous being I described that was being impregnated by Nesadomntha’s orchid was none other than Esmadrunga, the renowned Queen of the Earthly Demonic. I was told she was the life force and sustenance to that entire realm, and must somehow be under the control of the dark wizard. They said that these creatures birthed by the Queen were called the Niaughu, and were a powerful hybrid of the Undead and the Earthly Demonic. When I asked the clerics how they knew of this, they showed me ancient texts depicting drawings of the same entity I witnessed. They explained to me that the Earthly Demonic plays a large role in the cosmic balance holding all magic together, and is a necessary force in the sorcerous world.

  “The wise ones also informed me that while I had been gone, by means of meditation and divined hindsight, they had learned much about the cosmic rider who had vanquished Ghormanteia, and that they believed you would be the key to destroying this fiendish new breed of vampyre.

  “That night, the clerics helped me enter a deep trance, and I was able to telepathically visit you in your dreams. It was not the purple dedeim which caused your vision, Karnov. It was I who came to you as a veiled wraith, and was able to show you the attacks on this land, and bade you to return…

  “And so, my plan was successful, and here the legendary Phantom-Clad Rider stands before me. And so, I ask; after hearing all that I have disclosed, will you, Karnov, who holds the power of the Cosmic Ice, aid me in destroying this evil menace?”

  I looked at the exiled vampyre with his regal appearance, and bloodless countenance, standing motionless in intense anticipation of my response.

  “Although ye are undead such as those I hunt,” I said, “I will make an exception this once and put my trust in you—for I believe your tale. I shall join you, and together we will seek out and destroy the Niaughu as well as this necromancer of Ghormanteia. But know this, Asenthine: if you betray me… if this is some kind of deceptive trap, you will die a painful death by my ghost-hungry blade. Then, to further my vengeance, I will travel the astral planes in search of all the remaining Alunai that still exist in this world. I shall slay them one by one, until your race is wholly extinct, and the souls of your ancestors are damned to haunt my spectral mail for all eternity. This I promise.”

  Asenthine’s eyes flashed. Then he nodded grimly.

  “I accept your oath,” he said. “And the wrath you speak of I shall not fear, since I give you my word that there will be no treachery on my part. Remember that I risk just as much in trusting you—the only one with the power to destroy my kind with such ease.”

  “Very well, then,” I said. “Now, although I have satisfied my blade’s thirst this eve, I still wish to quench my own, and then rest for the remainder of the night. I have journeyed far, and the strength provided by slaying the Niaughu will only sustain me for so long. Would you care to accompany me in the tavern?”

  Asenthine looked around nervously.

  “Nay,” he said. “Although I manage to blend in at times, it is not seemly for me to become too comfortable in a small town such as this. I shall retire to the forest for the night to regain my own strength, and then regroup with you on the morrow. Then we shall proceed to Karagh-Ghul. Until then…”

  The vampyre bowed, turned and walked away, as I watched the moon’s glare upon his silken onyx mane vanish into the darkness of the street beyond.

  Chapter III: Sorcerous Beast’s Rebirth (A Feasting of Blood and Souls)

  A dreary, gray winter sun greeted me as I stepped out of the Wolf’s Bane Inn and onto the street the following morning. I had slept deeply and breakfasted heartily amongst wary townsfolk who regarded me with suspicious eyes. Surveying the scene outside, I noticed that only a few daring merchants had set up shop in the square, and they were heavily armed. The place was much more desolate and somber than usual.

  Wrathmane was waiting on the cobblestones nearby. He neighed as I approached and I patted him on the back.

  “I hope you rested well,” said an unexpected voice.

  I turned to see Asenthine’s fog-wreathed form standing in the gloomy haze of the square, his blood-red cloak wrapped about him. There was a thin streak of the same hue that ran from the corner of his mouth down to his chin.

  “Indeed,” I said. “And I see you too have already dined…”

  “Yes, forgive me…” said the undead nobleman awkwardly as he wiped the crimson stain from his jaw with his regal garment, leaving a pinkish dew upon his bone-white skin.

  “We should soon be on our way,” he said, looking up at the hazy sun. “The journey is not far, but the morning wanes.”

  “Indeed,” I said. “Let us be off.”

  As I donned my helm and prepared Wrathmane, it occurred to me that my companion came bearing no mount, and thus, would never be able to keep up with me and my faithful steed. Even though we had agreed on a partnership, friend or not—there was no way in Hell I was going to allow a vampyre to ride behind me on my horse.

  “You have no horse to ride?” I asked.

  “That is a factor which need not trouble either of us, and shall be rectified soon enough,” he said, grinning. “Keep a slow pace until we reach Blackstone Vale just beyond yonder hills.”

  “Very well,” I agreed, though not understanding his plan.

  We left the town. I rode upon Wrathmane who kept a steady gait while Asenthine walked quickly beside us on the roa
d that led through the dismal farmland I’d travelled through many times. Even though I was a familiar, we still received unwelcoming glances from farmers tending the fields, who spoke not when we hailed.

  As the bleak farmstead acreage dwindled off and became a stretch of rolling hills, rather than continuing on into the forest, we broke from the path and veered off to the west slightly. This was in order to enter the vale Asenthine spoke of, which lay on the outskirts of the dreaded woodland.

  We neared a cool, running stream at the corner of the valley that ran beneath tall, ancient oak trees just before a meadow. As we trekked along the mossy turf, dreamy memories began to flood my mind, and I started recollecting the many times I had brought my son to this pleasant place on summer afternoons to fish in years past. Sadness and longing once again reigned in my heart, but was soon replaced by a great surge of hatred, and I lusted more than ever to find this disciple of Ghormanteia and flay him alive.

  “Halt,” said Asenthine softly, interrupting my brooding. He held his hand up and stopped in his tracks.

  “Look there…” he said and pointed downstream.

  It was a Blackstone Elk—a species known only to these parts. Large, beautiful beasts with thick, blue-black coats and spiraling, gray antlers, they were quite rare, and were often hunted. I myself had only seen one before from a distance as a youngster, and it vanished before I could even get it in my bow-sights. They were glorious creatures, but were said to be quite unruly, and sometimes dangerous. This one was stopping at the water to quench its thirst, and seemed to pay no notice of our coming.

  “Stay here and don’t make a sound,” Asenthine whispered.

  I stayed motionless upon Wrathmane and watched as the vampyre silently crept forward in the shadows of the vale toward the drinking animal. Stalking like a wolf, Asenthine came upon it completely unaware. When he neared it, he leaped with uncanny speed upon the back of the beast. The elk bellowed and reared on its hind legs. It swung its head and lunged about, trying to knock the assailant off its back, but Asenthine held on tightly, gripping with his strong legs. When he was able to get ahold of it, he grabbed the writhing animal by the neck. Leaning forward while avoiding its deadly thrashing antlers, Asenthine bared his fangs and bit down into the creature’s throat. It roared in pain and bucked even wilder, as blood was drunk from the wound. This went on for a moment, before he withdrew his fangs and leaped off the beast.

  The elk swayed on its feet, stumbling forward. It snorted and moaned once before falling to the leafy ground to die next to the bubbling brook. A crimson trail leaked from the wound in its neck and mixed with the flowing crystal water.

  Asenthine turned his head and looked at me, panting with blood dripping down his mouth and neck. I shrugged my shoulders, not understanding what the point of this was, or how it was supposed to be beneficial to us. Did he just need to satisfy his vampyric hunger once again?

  Then, suddenly—the body of the animal trembled. Its eyes rolled back in its head and it started to convulse. Asenthine took a step back. An uncanny green mist surrounded the creature. It rose slowly and staggered to its feet in quivering motions, animated by some supernatural force. It stood upright and swung its head in whirling motions, hissing and foaming.

  Wrathmane stirred nervously beneath me as if longing to attack the thing.

  “Easy, friend…”

  No sooner had I reassured my horse when I myself started to feel uneasy about the situation. A dark transformation occurred. The mist-shrouded animal writhed and shrieked. Its eyes turned red and glowed demonically like embers from a witch’s bonfire. Two shining fangs burst through its gums, extending from its screaming mouth.

  Asenthine grinned darkly. It was obvious that he had planned for this to happen, and was pleased with the outcome.

  The elk’s antlers grew and the dull ends formed into razor-sharp points. It sprang up on its hind legs and shrieked like a banshee, as great leathery black wings like those of a giant bat burst out from its shoulder blades. It roared once again triumphantly and then remained still, standing as if awaiting command.

  I regarded the creature with awe. Never before had I witnessed such a transformation, and never had I encountered a vampyre that had the power to change beasts. From all I’d seen and heard, it occurred to me that my companion’s ancient race must have been truly remarkable…

  Asenthine stepped forward and put his hand upon its muzzle. A low growling that sounded like the purr of an ancient dragon emanated from the elk as the vampyre gently stroked its head.

  “I dub thee Merklethenon in honor of the Alunai Princess, Merklannah, who was Goddess of all vampyric animals in times of yore. Now immortalized, in her name ye shall serve our cause—bringing death and destruction to those who once defiled her.”

  The eldritch beast growled again and lowered its head slowly, as if bowing in allegiance. Asenthine walked beside it and then leaped from the ground onto its back. He looked at me and smiled triumphantly. Although uncertain and wary of his supernatural steed, I sighed and nodded as if in approval.

  “Now,” said the vampyre nobleman, “let us ride!”

  * * *

  The sky gave birth to an orange and gold borealis as the sun pierced violently through foreboding clouds in anticipation of an early winter sunset. Its radiance gleamed majestically like blazing fire off Wrathmane’s ornate armor, while his hoofs pounded the earth, echoing like drums of Chaos. As fast as the wind, we rode across open plains that bordered funereal woodlands in search of Karagh-Guhl.

  Just ahead of me was the Alunai nobleman Asenthine mounted on the back of his winged, black, vampyric elk-steed Merklethenon, whose mighty antlers cut through the air like deadly spears. The crimson eyes of the newly-changed beast glowed eerily through the gloom, and a green mist shrouded him as he galloped forth, fangs protruding from his frothing lips.

  Before coming to a thicket that lead into the swamp, Asenthine reached his arm out and pointed a slender finger to the forest that fringed the land to our right. He then steered Merklethenon toward the area he had indicated, and I followed.

  Our gallops slowed to a halt and I came up beside him as we entered a winding dirt path in the brooding woods. Orange accents from the setting sun filtered upon the ground through the skeletal boughs above.

  “I smell the blood of the innocent,” said Asenthine. “If evil-doers be near, then they deserve to die—and if that is the case, than it may be to our great advantage. Remember, I have the power to change humans into vampyres. You need to spill the blood of vampyres in order to activate your powers. It would be wise of us to enter the Karagh-Ghul and the lair of Nesodomntha with your Cosmic energy fully charged. Don’t you agree?”

  “Indeed,” I said. “But you said it wasn’t in your nature to drink the blood of humans…”

  The Alunai looked down as if ashamed. He then fixed his eyes on mine and his expression quickly changed to that of grim determination.

  “I will make an exception this once for our cause,” he replied. “Although frowned upon by my ancestors, I vow that this day, the blood of man is the blood of vengeance!”

  He reared Merklethenon, and continued down the crude woodland lane. I followed.

  A dense, gray fog permeated the forest, and the howling of timber wolves could be heard in the distance. A drop of blood dripped on my helm and I looked up to behold an old screech owl just emerged from its roost, already dining on an unfortunate rodent.

  Asenthine stopped, and signaled for me to halt as well.

  “They are just ahead. Look…”

  Peering through the dead branches of a fallen locust, I saw in the distance four men standing in an area where the trees thinned a bit. Robed in purple silks and wearing gold amulets around their necks, each had a scabbarded sword at his waist. They were gathered around a crudely made, blood-bedewed, stone altar—upon which lay a naked, young girl, bound, gagged and writhing on the stained slate. Lying on the ground in a pool of blood was the dead body of ano
ther young maid who had obviously just been slain upon the altar. To the left of the girl was a shirtless male youth tied to a large stake jutting from the ground. There was straw and kindling piled at his feet and it looked as if the robed men were planning to burn him alive. Nearby were their mounts—four brown mares standing in wait.

  One of the men read aloud from a leather-bound tome:

  “Great Lord, accept our sacrifice… For, with the blood of these mortals spilled upon this altar, we grant our offering to you…”

  Looking closer, I saw the gold amulets they wore bore the insignia of the Cult of Ghormanteia—the same symbol that used to be etched upon the breast of my armour, and the one that I previously used to transport myself to the dark one’s castle. The mark had long since vanished from my mail since his destruction, and an empty space now resided there surrounded by other runes, but seeing it again and realizing these foolish humans were trying to summon the bastard back from the grave enraged me to the fullest extent. I instinctively gripped the reins and was about to surge into the scene.

  “Not yet.” Sensing my anger, Asenthine put his hand upon my arm, steadying me. “Remember, do not slay until I have changed them.”

  As the violet-robed man continued to read, another drew his sword and walked over to stand above the squirming girl. He raised the blade in the air and held it over the distressed maid in anticipation of driving it through her heart.

  “King of the Undead… rise from thy sleep… A banquet of the most precious flesh we have laid out for thee… Come forth and gorge as this pure body pours its bright vermillion horde about the weltering stone…We summon thee… Lord Ghormanteia!”

  As these last words were spoken, Asenthine reared Merklethenon and charged from the forest gloom into the space occupied by the murderers. Before the surprised cult member holding the sword could plunge it through the girl’s chest, Asenthine leaped from the back of his vampyric elk and came down upon the man, knocking him to the ground and causing his sword to fly from his grasp. As the fiend struggled to rise, the vampyre held him to the earth. Gripping him by his now exposed shaggy brown hair, he pulled his head back, revealing his naked white neck. Fangs bared, slavering, and looking more ferocious than I had previously witnessed, Asenthine bit down into the man’s veins.