The Dark Elves and the Vampire Counts have developed some issues.
Dark Elves
"It's
contained?". "It is my lord". "what can we DO to it?". "My lord we
can give it hope". Sangrin regarded the torturer, this was new. He
wasn't known
for giving hope and now he was intrigued. "Hope?". The torturer
regarded his lord, well at least it looked that way, his one glass eye
fixed him, the scars on the one side of his face pink and angry in the
blazing candle light. "Yes my lord, we returned
it's spirit to a human host and it's enjoying being flesh once more",
Sangrin wondered who the lucky host was.
The
undead spy had been found in the upper towers and rather than have the
sorcerers destroy it they had contained it then on the instruction of
the torturers
placed it in a screaming host. The host had died instantly from shock
but the wraith had lived again in the new body. So far he had been
treated well and was confused and for the first time in a very long time
it looked, frightened. At first it had eaten,
washed, ran, screamed and tried to experience everything possible as
quickly as possible as it was whole once more. it was now becoming
comfortable with it's surroundings, still a little confused but
certainly for the first time in many decades it's view
of things had changed.
"Has
the room been prepared?", "yes my lord". The armourers had worked
double time to complete a room clad in cold iron. When the torturers
had finished with
it it's spirit would never leave that room.
Never trust the undead his father had told him. very good advice.
Vampire Counts
The moon shone bright and cold on the shore, and the green light of the
glowing crater to the South just visible on the horizon. The waves
lapped lazily onto the sands, the only other sound the mournful rasp of
the wind on the dunes.
Out from shore, a dog-faced helm broke the surface of the water as a
black armoured warrior raised himself out of the surf, sea water
pouring from his visor. He struggled a little making his way through the
soft sand, but soon stood drenched on the beach. His sodden cloak clung
to his form making him look like some massive, sodden bat.
The vampire lifted his helm revealing the face of a drowned man,
soft and pallid. Pieter had not fed in near a month as he trudged along
the seabed after his fleet had been destroyed below the vile cliffs. He
was weak, but at least he had had company.
As he looked about he tapped his thigh with one gauntlet as one
might call a hound. In response, a second figure rose from the dark sea,
though this one's movement was stiff and ungainly. Eventually the
figure stood beside it's master. The elf had changed much since it's
descent into the depths in Pieter's grip a month before. The fish and
crabs had taken it's face, leaving two glowing orbs where it's eyes had
been. Sharp, angled armour covered the rest of it's form, a shattered
sword still held in it's grip.
Pieter smiled a humourless smile at his servant. "Now, my lord, we shall rejoin our brethren, yes?"
Inside his mind, he heard his new wight's reply. "One day...one day I will kill you."
Pieter could not hold back his mirth. "No doubt, no doubt. But until then, you shall serve,
and serve well. But be of good cheer, I believe Morbius has a
collection of your kind in his service, no doubt you will draw comfort
from such scintillating company. Now, on, my faithful hound!"
The vampire's laughter rang out along the bleak sands.
