Karnov

by Matthew Knight

  One of the men-at-arms attempted to attack the vampyre in order to save his comrade, and received a swift kick to the skull by Merklethenon which knocked him unconscious.

  Asenthine lifted his head up from drinking and gasped for air as if emerging from water. Hissing and growling in ecstasy, his reddened mouth dripped with crimson gore, and his eyes were savage with bloodlust. He must’ve been extremely strong-willed, as I could tell he took just enough blood to cause the transformation, and had to force himself to stop.

  Seeing the unconscious man upon the ground, Asenthine arose and moved from his current prey to begin feasting upon the next victim. Merklethenon stood between the vampyre and the remaining cultists, guarding him while he drank. Reluctant to abandon their ritual due to this interference, the man holding the book stepped back and began chanting protective spells. The other armed man lunged forward, attempting to slash the enormous elk with his sword. The vampyric beast avoided the blow by opening his mighty jaws and chomping down into the attacker’s arm as he thrusted. Merklethenon thrashed his head once and violently ripped the man’s arm from his socket. Blood poured from the wound, dying his purple garment a deep scarlet, and the man fell to his knees howling.

  Having his first taste of blood, the elk could not resist; he leaned down, and opening his maw abnormally wide for an animal of his breed, bit down into the side of the crippled man’s abdomen, burying his huge fangs into flesh and bone. The man’s eyes rolled back and he screamed wildly as Merklethenon greedily devoured his lifeblood. The florid luster of the beast’s glowing eyes blazed brighter as he drank, and his black, leathern wings quivered in delight.

  Once finished with the unconscious victim, Asenthine was upon his feet and advancing upon the chanting sect affiliate, who didn’t have time to finish his incantation. The horrorstruck follower dropped the book and drew his sword to defend himself. The blood-satiated vampyre grinned mirthlessly and withdrew his rapier from its scabbard. He struck once and was parried. The man counter-attacked and a duel of steel-on-steel ensued.

  Watching through the trees in anticipation, I saw that while the swordsmen battled and the vampyric elk feasted, the drained bodies of the two fallen cultists were beginning to arise. Moving in weird, staggering motions, the robed figures stood upon their feet, taking their first looks at the world through undead eyes.

  This was my signal to move in. I urged Wrathmane and bursting through the thicket, plunged into the fray. One of the newly-risen wraiths was advancing toward the frightened girl bound upon the altar, ready for its first meal. Wrathmane galloped forth, and unsheathing my broadsword, I swung a blurring arc into the neck of the creature. As the blade hit home, the thing’s head went flying, and a fine blood mist sprayed the fair skin of the naked girl.

  Before the headless body of the slain vampyre could hit the ground, its undead soul was released from the oozing stump where its head used to be. As the whirling ghost-matter soared into my armor like a moth to a flame, I felt a great surge of strength run through my body and soul. The Cosmic Ice was activated. The frozen, spirit-inhabited substance started encasing my entire frame. Wrathmane roared in triumph, also empowered. His eyes illumined azure and a frosty smoke lifted from his nostrils whilst the phantom-energy eerily cascaded throughout his armor.

  Another fiend was approaching the male youth tied to the wooden stake. I turned to face it, pulled the reigns, and brought my warhorse down upon the wretch, stomping it into the ground beneath heavy, ice-clad hoofs, breaking almost every bone in its cursed body. I dismounted quickly, and as Wrathmane stepped away, I dropped to one knee and drove my glowing steel through the back of the vampyre’s broken body, piercing its black heart with ease and sending its soul to join the other in my armor, rather than to burn in the fires of Hell.

  I saw that the body of the third corpse was reanimating as well. Having completely drained it, Merklethenon had since abandoned the bloodless husk, and appeared to be feasting upon the decapitated head of the previously-slain vampire—devouring it like a spring watermelon.

  Asenthine and the lead cultist were still feuding, which seemed more like a malicious game to the Alunai. They fought in circles around the altar. The vampyre smiled and laughed jubilantly as he slashed and parried with his antique rapier. Gracefully he whirled and spun, as if taking part in an elegant dance rather than a swordfight. His red cape flowed in the breeze, as did his sleek raven-black mane that framed his pale blood-stained face—now orange, illuminated by the setting sunlight filtering through the trees. He was on the offense as he mercilessly drove the sweating partisan backwards. It was all the struggling man could do to keep his footing.

  At last, weary of swordplay, Asenthine slashed his opponent’s sword arm, severing the tendon in his wrist and causing him to drop his weapon. He then lunged forward and grasped the disarmed energumen by his throat. He ripped the golden pendant bearing the insignia of Ghormanteia from around the man’s neck. Asenthine held it before him and spat upon it.

  “Traitor!” the vampyre growled through clenched fangs, his eyes wide, bloodshot and dilated. “If you so love the bastard, perhaps you wish to become like him. For your treachery against all that is good and holy, I vow that this day forth, thou art damned!”

  Without hesitation, Asenthine pulled back the cultist’s head and bit down into his neck. The man screamed and his eyes rolled back as his blood was drunk.

  As I finished slaying the third newly-changed devil, I noticed that Asenthine was taking much longer with this last victim. I knew he had already drunk enough blood to change the man, and was ravaging greedily like a common vampyre. Knowing that this was against the moral code of his ancestors, and that he would not wish for it to occur, but was not in his normal state of mind, I intervened.

  “Asenthine, enough!” I said as I ran over and pulled him away from the drained man. He gasped and fell backward upon the ground with crimson ichor gushing from his mouth. I looked at the man’s face. His transformation had begun, and he was stirring as a fanged menace. Without hesitation, I raised my blade and with two hands buried it in the chest of the evil monstrosity, absorbing the vampyric life force with glee.

  Asenthine was sitting upon the ground recovering from the fit of bloodlust that had possessed him. He was breathing heavily and looking stunned.

  “Never let me do this again, Karnov,” he said, realizing that he had almost gone too far toward becoming like those he hated.

  “The work is done,” I said, grabbing his hand and helping him regain his standing. “Come, let us continue with our plan.”

  With the bloodshed and soul-quenching finished, I approached the restrained youth and cut his bonds. Once free, the lad staggered backwards trembling, obviously fearful of my appearance, and terrified by what he had just witnessed. I walked over to where the mares were tied, untethered the largest, and led it over to the boy. I then reached to the ground and picked up a sword dropped by one of the fallen men. I handed it to him, hilt first.

  “Here,” I said. “Take this weapon and this steed and carry the lass back to safety. There is a full moon tonight. Stay on the path and you should easily be able to navigate through the woodland. Do you know your way to the nearest town?”

  The youth said nothing but stared at me, mouth agape. He then nodded slowly.

  Standing near the altar, Asenthine made four quick swipes with the tip of his rapier, severing the girl’s bonds. She rose from the stone and fled from him, running and sobbing into the arms of the muscled youth.

  I turned and mounted Wrathmane.

  “Thank you, warrior,” said the lad, finally, as he embraced the girl.

  Looking down at him from beneath my helm of glowing spirit-mail, I nodded and said, “Thank the will of one of a proud lineage that saved you this night.”

  I glanced toward Asenthine who had mounted Merklethenon. The vampyre wiped blood from his mouth and nodded once uncomfortably before beginning to advance ahead.

  “And tell all you meet wh
o bear the symbol of these cult-men that their time of death is near. For it is no longer only souls of the undead that need fear the vengeance of Karnov and the wrath of Asenthine!”

  With that, I reared my empowered steed and then sped off galloping down through the darkened woods, followed closely by my companion, leaving only trails of blood and the green, otherworldly mist of Merklethenon’s essence to linger behind.

  Chapter IV: Consumed! (A Subterranean Massacre)

  A full moon glowering like an eye of Orlock shone brightly upon the swamps of Karagh-Ghul, making its still waters gleam like shining black glass. Surrounded by tall reeds and aquatic vegetation, we came to the morass at late moonrise and began trudging through its muck and marshes. The further we travelled, the thicker it became, and eventually, we entered waters that rose up to the torsos of our mounts, though they carried us effortlessly through the eerie bog. Illuminated by the ghostly light which clung to my glowing ice-armor, I followed behind Asenthine who lead the way with Merklethenon’s demonically-burning red eyes piercing the night like smoldering torchlights.

  The air was filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, and strange cries were heard in the distance. In the dark waters silhouettes of the large blood-sucking eels that inhabited these swamps emerged and encircled us. Some were ten or twelve feet long and a foot around in diameter. They slithered and swam near our mounts but dared not disturb the sorcerous beasts we rode. Also, awake were the carnivorous plants of the wetlands. Thick stalks that held large, yellow, flowering heads baring sharp teeth sat just above the water like floating lilies. I watched as one suddenly splashed down in the water and returned with a large fish in its jaws that it soon devoured. Most entities of the Earthly Demonic realm were allergic to water, but these weren’t. The plants chirped and made imitation calls of beasts and humans alike, hoping to lure one close enough to get a meal. They also avoided us as we passed.

  “We are nearing the lair,” said Asenthine. “Stay alert. The Niaughu could be about in these parts.”

  The black swamp deepened, and our mounts were forced to swim in order to hold us above the surface. I could see on the shore in the distance an orange light emanating from something on the land. It was this we were moving toward, and as we came closer, I saw in the moonlight, just as my companion had described, a mound of earth upon the land with a small opening from which the glow came.

  Eventually, the water became shallower as we advanced toward the coastline with water and muck dripping from our steeds’ bulks. Once on shore, we dismounted before the radiating knoll, and I could feel heat emanating from within.

  “Wrathmane and Merklethenon will have to wait outside this time, I am afraid,” said Asenthine. He patted his vampyric elk who made a grumbling, purring sound.

  “There is one thing we must remember,” he said. “It is very important that we do not harm the thing known as Esmadrunga during battle. Doing so may disrupt the Cosmic balance on this plane, therefore causing serious consequences that may hinder all magic. Although hideous, and currently under the control of Nesodomntha, she is still the Queen of the Earthly Demonic, and a necessary entity to this world.”

  I nodded in agreement, eager to begin the fight.

  We entered the stygian hovel with slight difficulty. Asenthine’s sleek frame slid through the opening with ease, however, my armored bulk required a bit more force to squeeze through. Eventually, we both dropped through the entrance and onto a hard, earthen floor from which a pathway led downward. The moss- and fungi-covered walls of the cave were tight and elucidated in a dim, golden light issuing from mounted torches, which were fueled by an unknown source. Reptiles, giant insects, and a weird species of white, eight-eyed, centipedal snakes crawled and slithered around as we advanced down the sloping path.

  As we descended, the temperature continued to rise. When the lane came to a sharp turn, we saw a figure around the bend in the distance. It was one of the Niaughu. The thing was on its knees and feasting on the blood of a huge swamp rat. Asenthine and I both drew our swords. At the sound of steel being unsheathed, the hideous beast turned its tentacled head toward us and roared. It dropped the rodent, rose to its feet and came rushing at us, ready to dine upon our flesh. As it approached with outstretched claws and elongated fangs, Asenthine slashed it across the chest once with his rapier, and then ducked to dodge and lunge behind it in the close quarters. As it came upon me, I followed the attack by driving my blade deep into the creature’s rib cage, piercing its heart. It howled as jade ichor gushed from its body. When the monster collapsed to the floor, its soul came soaring out of its body to join the other vampyric wraiths inhabiting my already gorged armor. As I absorbed it, I felt a great surge of power. The tainted spirit of the Niaughu added even more strength and vitality to that of which I had already acquired by slaying the previous four vampyres in the forest. I sighed in ecstasy as my ghostly aura intensified.

  Continuing onward with swords drawn, the warm tunnel descended lower and widened. When nearing a small still water pool, a booming voice was heard in the distance. Approaching what was like a forest of stalagmites, we slid between the stone masses until eventually coming to the edge of a precipice. Hiding behind the pointy structures, we observed below.

  It was exactly as Asenthine described; a large, rocky chamber illuminated by orange and green lights. The horrid creature called Esmadrunga was seated amongst a pool of emerald slime on the subterranean floor. The glutinous thing looked like a massive barrow of earth and vegetation. It had a horrid face with writhing tentacles, and resembled a human brain. Small black eyes gazed over an impish pig-snout. Its disgusting mouth was slack-jawed and it drooled lazily as a haze of purple dust lingered in the air around it. Surrounding it were scores of pods containing unborn Niaughu.

  Clad in an ebon robe, Nesadomntha stood in the center of the spectacle, his tattooed head and long mustache giving away his identity. At his feet was the vicious black panther, Sabarium, chewing on what appeared to be a human leg bone. Waving an arcane staff, the necromancer noisily commanded two toad-men who ran to and fro bringing naked, lethargic humans from an unseen area of the chasm. Chained to the walls by iron shackles were several vampyres—male and female—dressed in rags, hissing and slavering. The amphibious henchmen led the humans to the vampires, and watched them feast on their blood. Before the creatures drank too much, the humanoids beat them back with silver staves, croaking “Enough.” As the bodies were released, the servants carried the newly-changed vampyres to be inserted into the mouth of the orchid-mound. There was no struggle, as they were lethargic, and in the brief state of shock that occurs just at the moment of transformation. By the time they had become active, and gained their Nosferatu senses, they were already being devoured by the heap.

  The giant, white orchid sprayed a violet pollen-cloud onto the queen, and as soon as a pod slid out of the tubular shaft attached to her, the toad men were already returning with another victim in their clutches to feed to the hungry mound.

  Sickened by this spectacle, I could no longer stand and watch this horror give birth to more mutant entities.

  “Let us move in,” I said to Asenthine, who nodded and drew his rapier.

  We moved along the rocky path leading down through the stalagmites until we came to the chasm floor where all was taking place. Unseen by the preoccupied villains, I made our presence known.

  “Halt, fiend!” I yelled.

  The salientian servants stopped in their tracks, and Nesadomntha turned with a surprised and enraged look upon his face. Dropping the half-eaten bone, Sabarum sprang to his feet, growling ferociously.

  The sorcerer laughed.

  “I see we have guests!” he jested. “Indeed I remember this Alunai who escaped our clutches and fled into the mountains, never to be discovered. How nice of you to pay us a visit.”

  Asenthine scowled and gripped his sword hilt tighter.

  “And you, cosmic warrior,” said the wizard with an evil gleam in his eyes. “I
have not yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, although I have heard many things about you. From what I understand, you are the one who is responsible for the destruction of our great Lord. For that you will pay dearly.”

  “Hearken, warlock,” I replied. “It is you who will taste the vengeance of icy steel this night. For your treacheries against mankind you will die a most horrible death, just like your damned master. Prepare to meet your doom!”

  I rushed forward, tendrils of glowing soul energy trailing from my radiating armor. Gripping my charged sword and shield handle, I was ready to slay the necromancer at all costs. Asenthine followed close behind.

  “Children, come forth!” called Nesadomntha, raising his staff.

  Suddenly, the familiar sound of a slavering mob assailed us, as scores of Niaughu came rushing into the chamber from unseen corners and pathways of the cave.

  As they ran toward us, I leaped into the air, diving into the herd. Landing feet-first in the mass, the creatures lunged at me, only to draw back scathed as they felt the scourge of my phantom-clad armor. I hacked and slashed heads off of the creatures one by one, causing their green ichor to mix with the similarly-colored ooze that coated the floor. Some tried to grab me from behind and pull me down, or gnaw through my icy encasement with their deadly fangs. All who dared writhed back in pain with frosty smoke coming off their smoldering limbs.