A/N: Well, since Innistrad has been out a while and I've acquainted myself with the cards, I found myself wanting to tell the story of a few – three of which I got in a recent draft deck, and proceeded to mop the floor with everyone. Those three were Garruk, Slayer of the Wicked and Captivating Vampire. While Garruk's official story will be told at some point, I thought that since I was re-reading William King's excellent Gotrek and Felix books from the Black Library I could do a sort of 'potential story' for the three. This was the end result. Note that it does borrow heavily from those books in terms of plot ideas, pacing and so on. Then again, it is fanfiction, so I suppose it doesn't matter that much -_-'. Enjoy!
**
Garruk and Avancyn
Chapter One – Harvest Moon Rising
By FutureCam
Inspired by William King's "Gotrek and Felix" novels
"Damn all ill-tempered drivers!" Garruk Wildspeaker muttered, adding a curse under his breath.
"You just had to go and insult the Lady Avacy, didn't you?" His companion said peevishly. "As things are, we're lucky they didn't just shoot us – If you can call it lucky to be stranded in the forests of Stensia on Rising Night."
"We paid for our passage." Garruk grunted. "We had just as much a right to sit inside as her. The drivers were unmanly cowards. They refused to meet me steel to steel, and being spitted by crossbow bolts is not a worthy end to mine curse."
His companion, a tall human man with cropped brown hair, shook his head in disgust. There was no point in arguing with him while he was like this, and he had other things to worry about. Sniffling, he cast a worried glance about the forest. The setting sun and rising moon were casting ominous shadows amongst the evergreen trees, reminding him of the horrors that could be waiting beneath them. He let out a sudden, wracking cough.
"I may be getting a fever." He said to himself quietly. Somehow, the giant planeswalker ahead heard him and grunted noncommittally.
"Don't get too weak, now, Avancyn. I need you to control me."
'Ah yes. I remember.' Avancyn thought bitterly to himself.
"Come on, gentlemen; leave the girl alone, that's all I'm asking." Avancyn said calmly, keeping his hands clearly away from his weapons. "Avacyn knows that we need every able-bodied man and woman."
The drunken trackers laughed. "Leave the girl alone!" One of them mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Just get out of our way, pretty boy."
Avancyn sighed and dropped his hand back down to his sword hilt when a loud howling ripped through the air.
"What's that? Werewolves?" One of the drunkards asked nervously. "I don't wanna tangle with no werewolf!"
"Shut up and stay quiet!" Avancyn snapped. "If they hear you, you're dead!"
The three drunkards stopped whimpering even as the short blond girl they were stalking moved closer to Avancyn, who tensed up.
"…these aren't werewolf howls-"He realized, just before a massive man, veins bursting around his neck, dropped from a rooftop in front of him. The drunkards howled in fear, attempting to run away, only for a massive two-handed axe in one ham-sized fist to cut them all down in three swipes. The man turned to him, growling. Avancyn nodded at the girl.
"Return home. Run!"
The girl fled without any hesitation. Avancyn drew his sword and stake, and settled down into a fighting stance. The roaring man turned to him, snarling, and Avancyn recoiled as he got his first look into eyes of pitch black.
"Avacyn save us!" He blurted on reflex. Nothing he said changed the man's posture – or, undoubtedly, his intent. The man hurtled himself at Avancyn, only for him to duck and ram a stake through his shoulder. The man reeled back, yanking the stake out with a snarl, but was splashed in the face with blessed water from Avancyn's flask, blinding him. Howling in rage, he dived one last time, but Avancyn snapped a silver collar, studded with white rocks around his neck, and he collapsed to his knees. His eyes cleared, and the veins and muscles in his body relaxed slightly. A now slightly dazed man glanced up at Avancyn.
"You…I lost control. Where are we?"
Avancyn was snapped from his reveries by a constantly increasing rumbling sound. Puzzled, he turned around, just as Garruk did too-just as a pitch black carriage, drawn by a pair of brown stallions, rammed right into them!
He went spinning off the bark path into the trees, while Garruk was forced below it, cursing. The carriage kept on going, and a dazed Avancyn walked over to Garruk, who stood up, bruised but otherwise fine.
"The saproling fondlers ran me over!" Garruk roared. Avancyn winced in pain from the proximity and volume, combined with his throbbing head. "Let's get after them!"
He turned and headed up the road at a fast trot.
**
Further down the Grefhaghen road the pair found the Avacyn's Watch Inn. The windows were shuttered and no lights showed. They could hear a neighing from the stables but when they checked there was no coach, black or otherwise, only some skittish ponies and a peddler's cart.
"We've lost the coach, might as well get a bed for the night." Avancyn suggested. He glanced warily at the Harvest Moon, now raised completely. "I do not like being abroad in this evil light."
"You are feeble, slayer –and cowardly too."
"They'll have beer."
"On the other hand your suggestions are not entirely foolish." Garruk conceded. "Watery though Innistrad Ale is, of course."
"Of course." Avancyn said. Garruk failed to spot the irony in his voice.
The inn was not fortified but the walls were thick, and when they tried the door they found it was barred. Garruk began to bang it with the butt of his axe-shaft, to no response. Garruk sniffed heavily a few times.
"It's occupied. Humans." He growled. "I can smell them."
"They'll have locked themselves in. No-one in their right mind would be travelling on Rising Night – not unless they're inhuman or demon lovers."
"The black coach was travelling."
"It's occupants were up to no good. The windows were curtained, and it bore no coat-of-arms."
"My throat is too dry to discuss such details. Come on, open up in there or I'll take my axe to the door!"
There was a brief scurrying of movement inside before the door opened up. Garruk blinked in surprise at the portly old man trying to stab him with a pitchfork. "I'm human, fool." He grunted, pushing past him. Avancyn scurried behind him, apologizing frantically.
"I'm so sorry. We just need a room for the night-"
"And Ale."
"-Yes, and Ale." Avancyn conceded.
"So, you're a planeswalker." Avancyn said slowly. "I would disbelieve you, but then again, I've never seen some of the things you did."
Garruk grunted, slamming his third tankard down on the table.
"For example, no-one has ever called that watery before." Avancyn muttered. "And most are unconscious by the second glass."
Garruk just pointed at his collar.
"Look, what is this thing?"
"Blessed silver and moon-fragments." Avancyn shrugged. "Slayers of the Wicked, like myself, use them to contain demons."
Garruk grunted again. "Whatever it is, it's sealed away my curse."
"And your powers." Avancyn mused. "Because whatever that hand-movement you've been making for the last half hour is, it wasn't working."
Garruk shoved his hand inside his ripped tunic. "It should be opening a planesgate. But, I suppose my powers as a planeswalker and spellcaster being lost are a small price to pay for control of my own body while I hunt down the witch who gave me this curse."
There was a silent pause. Then, Avancyn said something he'd regret for the rest of his life.
"May I come with you?"
"Eh?"
"This witch needs put down. It is the holy duty of the slayers to purge evil wherever it may be found."
"I don't know." Garruk frowned. "This is my curse, thus it is MY justice to be delivered."
"The curse I contained?" Avancyn said drunkenly. "I stopped you before. Maybe I could stop you again, should the collar stop working." He blinked. "…are you turning into a carrot?"
Garruk, ignoring that last statement, grinned and slit his palm on his axe.
"Blood oath, then – may we never rest until Liliana Vess is found and slaughtered!"
On his third attempt, Avancyn cut his own palm on his silver dagger. "Indeed."
The two shook hands, and then gulped down their beers. Avancyn's eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed off his stool.
**
"Can you pay, Herr Slayer?" the innkeeper said with a grunt. Avancyn nodded and pulled out one Gold Angel and three Silver Herons.
"This should suffice for the room and food." He said, before pulling out a handful of Copper Cathars. "And two Gavony Ales, please."
"And one for the boy." Garruk grunted, his axe resting against the table within easy grabbing distance. A group of peddlers in the corner looked at him uneasily, causing him to grunt and get up, walking over to them.
"Do any of you know of a black coach?"
"You have seen it?" One of the men said fearfully.
"Seen it? The bloody thing ran me over!" A man gasped. Avancyn groaned and ran a hand down his face.
"You are lucky it did not do more, then." The fattest and most prosperous-looking peddler said. "Some say the coach is driven by the slaves of the Vampires, and that each rising night it comes through here, looking for travelers to capture to feed their masters."
Garruk looked at him with interest – even Avancyn was drawn to the man's story.
"Surely it's only a legend. The vampires keep to themselves here, don't they?" He asked, sipping at his ale and wincing at the inevitable hangover he was going to get.
"No, sir" The innkeeper shouted. "Every year we hear the thunder of its passing – two years ago, Valencio looked out and saw it, a black coach just as you describe."
At the mention of that name, an old woman in the corner began to wail. The innkeeper brought over two large bowls of stew.
"The old hag is discomfited." Garruk noted, wolfing down his meal. The innkeeper nodded.
"Valencio was her son. He went missing last night."
"Lost in the woods, perhaps?"
"Valencio was a woodcutter. He would never get lost – the woods were like a second home to him. No, I fear the Black Coach took him."
"I see." Garruk said simply. Avancyn groaned.
"No. No, no NO-"
"We're going, Slayer. Or are you a coward?"
Avancyn sighed. "We're hunting vampires on the night they are at their strongest?"
Garruk looked at him. "Isn't that your job?"
Avancyn reached for his sword, muttering to himself. "This is going to get us killed at some point."
"Well, we better be ready to punch death in the nose, right?"
"You'll find my Valencio?" The old woman asked in shock. Avancyn inclined his head.
"That appears to be our goal." He admitted.
"What do you think these are, slayer?" Garruk asked, bending close to the ground. Ahead of them, the road continued on into the heart of Stensia. Avancyn leaned on the league marker – this was the edge of the trail. He hoped their guide had returned home safely.
"Tracks. Going north." He said calmly. "Coach tracks. And to the north…"
"Aye?"
Avancyn sighed. "The Darkstone Ring – a group of stones local myths say are connected with demons and the like."
Garruk grinned ferally. "Our Black Coach"
"It would appear so."
They trudged wearily through the forest. Overhead, the new Harvest Moon loomed threateningly. A light mist had gathered and the terrain they moved through was bleak and wild. Rocks broke through the ground frequently.
Sometimes they thought they had heard the sound of great wings passing overhead, but they could only see the glow in the sky, and the distortions of the mist.
There was a sense of wrongness around this place, Avancyn decided. The air tasted foul, and the hairs on his neck constantly prickled. Mighty forces were gathering close to here, he was certain – he felt like an insect crawling across the body of a giant that could at any moment awake and crush him.
Out of the mists, something shambled. Once it had been a man, Avancyn decided. The outline was still there. It was as if some mad god held the creature close to a daemonic fire until flesh dripped and ran, then had left it to set in a new and abhorrent form.
"This night we will dance" It said, in a high-pitched voice that held no hint of sanity. "Dance and touch!"
It raised its hands to the sky, and as one, a group of cultists moved around him and the collapsed stones, forming a ring, chanting. Avancyn and Garruk hid behind a pair of destroyed pillars, realizing that they had already arrived at the Darkstone Ring.
Garruk pointed through the mist, and Avancyn made out the vague shadow of the Black Coach.
"Not vampires, then." He said conversationally. Avancyn shuddered and reached for a silver collar on his belt instinctively.
"No. Much worse. Skirsdag."
"Skirsdag?"
"Demon worshippers."
Garruk's face grew bleak in understanding. "Ah."
"Exactly. We have to stop this ritual!"
Garruk pulled his axe off his back. "Kill 'em all?"
Avancyn sighed and drew his longsword. "I guess that could work."
The two whirled around the pillar and charged through the mist. The cultists, so occupied in their chanting, didn't notice them until they burst into the middle of the circle in a spray of blood, Avancyn having slit a throat and Garruk cutting three down with his axe. The remaining number reeled in shock, while Garruk roared in defiance. Avancyn made a mad dash to the scarred and mutilated leader, an old blind man now that he was closer. He held his hands up in weakness.
"No, wait-"
Avancyn didn't let him finish, ramming his longsword up through his head from the base of his neck, kicking the body off. The remaining cultists charged, long daggers flashing in the mist. Garruk was suffering from a dozen small cuts on his arms already, but his strong overcoat was stopping the glancing blows at his chest. One frantic stab at his head was deflected by his helmet, and Garruk's strong jaws clamped down on the unfortunate man's wrist, snapping it. Bodies were cleft in two left and right by mighty swings of the greataxe, laughing in glee and bloodlust. Black veins swelled underneath his restraining collar, and Avancyn realized that this had to end quickly, before Garruk's curse overwhelmed his restraints.
Another shape swooped down over his head, and he ducked quickly. The shape revealed itself to be a bat, which shifted into an attractive female, who crouched behind the cultists. Avancyn's eyes widened.
"Garruk! Look out, Vampire!"
The insane from bloodlust Garruk let out a roar of challenge and dove through the few remaining cultists, smashing them to the side. The female vampire cocked her head, interested, and lashed out with one fist, catching Garruk on his temple and sending him flying backwards into a pillar, which collapsed on him. His movements ceased.
Avancyn stared in shock. The vampire turned to him and inclined her head.
"I have to thank you two for stopping this ritual. I was worried I may get my hands dirty." She said conversationally. "Who are you, Slayer?"
"My name is Avancyn." He said nervously, creeping towards her. "And you?"
"My human name was Anastasia." She nodded, before kneeling at one of the corpses and pulling back its hood. "I do not believe that you should return to that inn tonight."
Avancyn glanced at the body, and grimaced. The man had a pendant with the same symbol as the inn's door – Valencio.
"I see."
There was a brief pause.
"Are you thinking about trying to kill me?" Anastasia asked incredulously.
"It is sort of my job, so yes." Avancyn said frankly. Anastasia burst out laughing.
"Oh, I like you. Yes, I think I'll let you live. There's a decent lodge in Stromkirk that needs some hired muscle, you should try out there while your friend gathers information."
Avancyn raised an eyebrow.
"You know who he is?"
"I know who he's looking for. She was in Stromkirk last week – the locals should tell you more." She laughed. "Until we meet again, Avancyn"
The woman turned back into a bat and fluttered away. Garruk groaned as he regained consciousness.
"Avancyn? Where's the vampire, is she dead?"
"No. She helped us." Avancyn said slowly. Before Garruk could ask any more questions, he threw a small sack of gold he'd found on the ground at him. "Let's get moving. She said Liliana was in Stromkirk last week, we should get more information there."
Garruk perked up considerably. "Stromkirk, eh? Let's have a look, then, shall we?"
From that day on, local legends told of some horrible ritual, summoning an axe-wielding demon who killed many who were brought forwards to be its sacrifice, including Valencio, the innkeep's nephew. The demon appeared to have wielding a great axe and a blade, and had destroyed the Darkstone Ring completely before vanishing.
The vampires of the township knew better, but the local sheep could do without knowing of their unwitting Slayer agent and his planeswalker pet, so they encouraged it, and even scorched the Ring one night to make it appear as though some hellish firestorm had swept through it.
**
A/N: So…horrible? Meh? Enjoyable? Tolkein-level? Tell me what you think!
