All characters belong to Crystal Dynamics and Eidos (C) 1995- 2006.
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The Eternal Flower
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The youthful vampire Kain viewed the cranky elusive Vorador as a potential, loving father figure. The tales depicting the monster were truly of considerable merit and imagination. This creature was a worthy mentor, unlike a robed blithering archaic idiot, who seemed to enjoy tempting young men into that small northern cave.
As the soldier come vampire approached the distinctive decadent mansion, a blood curdling scream cut through the velvety night sky. Ah, such a place, offering small gifts of the best kind, free suffering, that was not his own. Two skulls spewing a tempting, jade green smoke, embraced a large wooden door, that opened freely, revealing a darkened hallway.
The usual drill, Kain thought to himself. Strange place owned by a bachelor, obviously filled to the brim with unspeakable evil needed to be slain by his hand. Upon entering and waltzing over a large carpeted area featuring a stitched image of Vorador. Like any Tom, Dick or Harry, Kain wiped his feet on the most finely crafted item in the entire mansion, naturally this was the obvious conclusion, a mat even one designed to resemble Vorador, was to be walked upon. Within the next few minutes a scream of unsubstantiated agony filled the air.
Kain turned around, before him lay three barely dressed vixens clutching the threads of a muddied carpet resembling their creator. Never had the warrior angered the female race in such a fashion, for these creatures were seriously rage ridden. It was apparent from these dears domineering sneers and an inclination to scream 'get him' that Kain was in trouble.
Quickly the fledgling ran towards what appeared to be a door featuring a winged creature. Opening it hastily and closing it with a few large heavy items to stop the harpies from entering, he sighed happily. He took a moment, remembering his instructors words, as a child, regarding women in general. Forever in a day would one pay, for the wrath ventured in the return of a scorn. With this in mind, all Kain had to do was recollect the tale of Turel the 'noble' Sarafan who kept a love in every village.
After exploring a few vacant rooms, which eerily sported a large assortment of riding crops, whips and something called spandex, Kain entered a beautiful outdoor garden. A lone vampire, who looked of gypsy heritage was pruning a large patch of roses.
Kain: Vile creature, hasten or you shall join the condemned in a pit of eternal agony. Where lies your master?
Vampire: Well good day to you, fledgling, does the 'condemned' have a chance to speak his final words?
Kain: I have neither the time nor patience for such useless prattling. What is your name?
Vampire: Tom, but of course. One of Voradors unholy Husbands! (evil laugh)
To this Kain could merely wonder, how the centuries had torn at this creatures mind. Then again something regarding this statement seemed to fit, with the subtle eccentric machinations adorning the creatures walls. The vampire undaunted by Kain's sudden silence and bewildered expression continued.
Tom: My master, condemned me to this place for the pettiest of sins, child. Now my days continue forever onwards, capturing the very essence of flower maintenance. Such is the fate of all male offspring, banishment, involving outdoor activities.
Kain: Appox upon thee's tale, my tolerance grows short. Tell us the where abouts of your decadent sire!
Tom: My dear fledging, isn't it not obvious? All the male creations of our sire have been banished outside his castle. Therefore...
Of course, the arrogant young self involved vampire realized that Vorador must be in his private quarters. Those he had met in the house sported quite the array of feminine traits, whilst those outside were clearly masculine. However a degree of wonder can be achieved from the fashion in which the great future warlord came to such a conclusion, having only met Tom outside the hollowed halls.
With a slight sideways glance, checking for the nearest door, Kain rammed into the cocky gardener. Stepping upon the poor creatures features and bending his most adored item, an antique rake. Now Tom greatly prized this implement, something nostalgic from his former position as a weeder at the Sarafan Keep.
Now in those days, weeds were a real challenge and worthy of the true butch type. Tom was a proud introverted servant of the great warriors who constantly trampled his petunias, whilst screaming out things like, vampire, don't let him escape!
Ah, those moments were the simple kind, until those six sordid lunatics decided to track down the infamous blue feathered babe of Uschtenheim. Upon their captains demise, Tommy was tricked into taking up the position. None of the true warriors held the necessary guile to adopt such a suicidal post. That and the glorified Raziels quarters were quite the distance from the female sorcerers wash rooms. For Tom this was a step up, as his room was a cupboard in the west wing adjacent to Moebius's humble abode.
Frankly, watching the Time Streamer, at night from across the hall, curled up in a ball hugging his 'snowglobe' staff, whilst muttering about Mortanius's sockling collection, was quite unsettling. The move was most welcome, despite Moebius's complete and utter lack of faith in the boy. He was initiated with a slightly less than enthusiastic 'welcome to the team' then shunted into a nearby hallway.
Mortanius on the other hand was just glad to have a new patsy, someone to shift the brethren's workload upon. For, if they had survived a series of humiliating deaths at the hands of fate and one wraith, they would have been sent off to seek out Vorador. Tom was appointed two men, Dick and Harry. Due to budget cuts, the original number of six per Sarafan infiltration team was cut down.
So with a hearty wave goodbye and a shiny set of new amour, the three were sent to Termogent forest. They regaled one another with stories about their lives along the way. For instance, Dick was Nosgoths first Astrophysicist, who was almost burnt at the stake until Malek saved the ungrateful sods life, for the man needed a towel boy. It was either that or a trip to the Eternal Prison, his deluded ramblings about Nosgoth orbiting a gigantic glowing sphere, seemed, well, ridiculous. Harry on the other hand was Turels understudy, thankfully the brute perished otherwise a lifetime of kissing Time Traveling keister would have been assured.
The trio soon arrived at Voradors mansion, after several days of avoiding mystical fire spewing logs and strange perverted mystics. Luckily for the three, Vorador was reshaping his staff after having noticed a distinct lake of male cohorts. Though glad of the abundance of female interlopers, a certain masculine touch was needed. Those damn shrubbery's round back weren't going to take care of themselves. From that day forth for nearly five centuries, the fearsome warriors were brainwashed into keeping the grounds ship shape. However something was missing in Tommy's life, that oh so beautiful rake.
The task of retrieving it from the stronghold, had been a difficult one. But once it was returned, Tommy had been all the better for it. Voradors main reason for allowing the mission to take place, fell within the arena of the vampires spiteful nature. A certain set of lilies provided by the gardener wilted during his latest courtship, thus the gleam in his probable conquests eye dulled and Vorry's chances fell asunder. Maybe this fool hardy quest would destroy the ingrate, sadly, no.
It wasn't the guards armed to the teeth, nor the keeps great lake or the various booby traps but a certain guardians involvement that made the entire affair tedious. Tommy for the life of him was incapable of contemplating how one man could be so attached to an inanimate object. Then again, Malek was now regarded as a thing, thanks to a certain Necromancer.
Luckily for the gardener, inanimate objects do enjoy the odd cat nap. Whilst the tin man slumbered, Tom crept into the chamber and casually wrenched the rake from the Conflict Guardians grasp. The boys concentration only fell for but a second, upon the whispered longings for something called Shelley, by the sleeping amour ensemble. For the life of him, Tommy prayed to the Elder God that the damned warrior was not referring to the blasted rake.
Who knew what kind of torment Kain had inflicted upon the poor fellow by destroying that archaic tool. For Tommy lay unconscious upon the stony floor, dreaming of the day his master would allow a mere glimpse back into that damned mansion.
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Kain knew his quarry was near, the smell of elaborate decadence draped around the mansion like a comfortable robe. Vorador, the sadistic hedonist was content on reinforcing the view that he was nothing more than a well defined lover. The old man enjoyed the time honored tradition of exaggerated female companionship, something his sire could never understand. Honestly, any other master would of been proud, however Janos was more concerned with the practicalities. For instance where was Vorador going to store these women and the moral ambiguities of being their 'father'. The younger vampire, like any child, simply ignored the old man and continued with his joyful rebellion. After all, in some small way Janos was happy to have a few grandchildren to spout off to.
Kain meanwhile headed towards the master bedroom. Upon his arrival with a dramatic full fledged kick, the doorway splintered revealing a bemused, inflicted green, occupant.
Kain: At last, foul creature I have found-awwww...for the love of whatever deity is out there, put something on!
For at that moment Vorador was enjoying a brisk afternoon in the nude. It warmed the vampires blackened heart to notice the utter unease this predicament had on the interloper. To test the creatures threshold, Vorador decided to wiggle his jaded butt for a moment. Kain was clearly starting to turn an interesting shade of violet in response to such an action. At this point, the vampire decided an outfit would definitely help the tension in his room. For he had no immediate desire to comfort this fellow if the fledging were to faint. In a way, Vorador was quite offended, after all his brides always complemented on his fine physique. Then again the man failed to notice the obvious fact, that his creatures very survival depended on half truths and vacuous flattery.
Vorador: If a certain fledgling toned down the dramatics and avoided bursting into rooms, maybe such a situation wouldn't transpire again? Hmmm, imagine your dismay if I had been the Time Guardian.
Kain shuddered to think of that wrinkly pile of flesh clinging to such an archaic framework, walking around as nature intended. In the future, knocking shall definitely be the main point on his 'to do' list.
Kain: I am Kain and I believe the two of us have matters to discuss!
Vorador: Is that so?
Fully dressed, the elder vampire relented and began a long mundane tale. Kain listened obviously bored, however glad to have found a like minded individual. A possible mentor, one who shared the dark passions he dared to unleash upon Nosgoth.
As Vorador finished there was an uneasy silence between the pair. Kain viewed this new father figure with a sense of awe and inner respect. Despite his obvious decadence, In a way the fledgling hoped such secret feelings would be returned in kind.
Vorador: What? Your still here then?
Kain's heart sunk a tad, on the up side his head was still attached. Which in the world of vampires surely hinted towards a kind of allegiance. The fledgling rose, ready to disembark from the room.
Vorador: Oh and take this.
With that, the vampire lunged a ring towards Kain in an unruly manner. From outside Tommy, who just awoke, could see through one of the tinted stain glass windows, a figure standing next to his sire. The person was flailing its arms, after uttering a manly shriek, then fell to the ground. The gardener used to such things, decided to ignore the situation. It was best not to dwell on such matters, besides the yard needed to be tended to. Looking for the most obvious tool to remove a nearby pile leaves, the boy let a out a shriek of his own upon noticing its state.
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Notes
Full story of Turel's plight in Nosgothian Tales- (Chap 7)
Tom aka Tommy, is a bit character that was introduced in Nosgothian Tales- (Chap 8)
NT- The fates of the Sarafan brethren: Zephon & Melchiah (Chap 3), Rahab & Dumah (Chap 6), Turel (Chap 7) and Raziel (Chap 9)