"Hey Wendu, am I going crazy or does this look really out of place?" Lann asked, gesturing to the perfectly domed cave, at the center of which sat a walled graveyard with a large mausoleum in the middle. Such a sight would be strange enough on its own but what caused the greatest concern for the mongrel was the plants that grew in the grave; perfectly cut grass and various green shrubs and trees, none of which should survive underground, deprived of light.
"Shut up, Lann." Wenduag hissed, warily eyeing the third individual present. Lann turned his head slightly, taking care to only face his lizard half towards the one-eyed, doll-like woman. Standing a small distance from the two mongrels was one of the people who had led him and Wenduag here. She was incredibly beautiful but that was not the reason Lann mentally compared her to a doll, that would be how she stood unnervingly still, with no hint of emotion in her body language or facial expressions.
Wendu's noticed it too, then. Lann thought to himself. The odd shape of the cave, the greenery, and the fact that one of them would have noticed a giant tomb previously all led to the same conclusion: this place was not here before. Still, that earthquake earlier felt like it came from above, not below and it doesn't look like this place fell down here. Lann sighed, realizing he wasn't going to be able to figure it out from what little information he had and so turned his attention fully to the strange woman.
"So, are you from Alkenstar?" Lann asked, breaking the tense silence that had settled.
"No." The girl uttered; her voice as devoid of emotions as everything else about her.
"Oh, I'd just assumed from your weapon that…" Lann trailed off as Wenduag glared at him, a meaningful silent message between hunters warning of a dangerous predator. Wenduag's really on edge. If she's really this afraid then why'd she agree to come?
Previously, the two had been searching for the angel's sword when a sharply dressed gentleman and the doll-girl had approached the two and invited the mongrel pair to meet with their master. The strangeness of the situation had been stunning, seeing what appeared to be a pair of wealthy uplanders walking about in complete darkness with perfect ease. The situation became even stranger after Lann had finally managed to explain what the mongrels were doing and agreed to the old man's offer of meeting his master in exchange for help finding the sword.
The angel's sword has been stuck in a stone for 70 years and is said to burn the hands of any unworthy, yet the old man picked it up -stone and all- without issue and placed it into a strange portal that apparated from thin air. Determined to not return to the tribe without that sword, Lann had no other option than to follow the old man, though now he wasn't so sure that was a good idea.
As the silence began to drag on further, Lann contemplated trying again to strike up a conversation. Even if Wenduag's warning is sincere, it can't be worse than dying from boredom. Fortunately, he did not need to as a swirling black vortex appeared before the three and a woman wearing a black bell-shaped dress stepped from it. This woman appeared to be no older than 14 in human years, with pale white skin, silver hair… and blood-red eyes.
Whilst actual vampires are rare underground, usually opting to live on the surface amongst their chief prey, many creatures that share similar traits make their homes in the dark caves.
Lann slowly reached to draw an arrow from his quiver. Damnit, if this is the "Master" then the old man must have been enthralled. Or was he a vampire too? It'd explain how he could see in the dark. What about the other one? Lann resisted the urge to turn to look at the one-eyed woman as it'd leave him open, instead hoping Wenduag could deal with them.
"Hm? Sebas didn't mention the demi-humans were hostile. My master wishes to speak with you, so whilst I can't kill you, we can certainly play a little." The vampire gave a wicked smile that revealed the sharp fangs indicative of her kind.
Lann raised the bow and quickly adjusted his aim for the vampire's heart, vaguely recalling some tidbit of folklore he'd heard back when he lived on the surface and let it loose. The arrow flew straight but instead of trying to avoid it or rely on her kind's natural damage reduction, the vampire instead caught the head of the arrow between two perfectly manicured nails.
Some sort of monk? Lann thought giving the vampire an appraising look whilst drawing a second arrow. No. There's no way she could move around in that dress. The second arrow flew as true as the first but did not reach its target as the vampire casually flicked the caught arrow and the two collided mid-air, turning into rock fragments and wood splinters.
The absurdity of the situation caused Lann to pause for a brief moment, which was enough of a vulnerability for an attack to come from behind, and with a meaty 'thump' Lann's consciousness faded to blackness.
Wenduag kneeled in the dirt next to Lann's unconscious form. Attacking him from behind had been risky and she'd cracked her bow by using it as a bludgeon but she couldn't risk his naivety getting them both killed. He may have been blind to the strength of the foe before them but Wenduag was not; she had seen Savamelekh tear the strongest of mongrels apart as if they were made of parchment and yet the vampire in front of her seemed like something else entirely.
"Mistress, I offer Lann's life, should his actions have displeased you."
"Oh? Is he not one of your kind? You'd betray him so easily?" The vampire's tone remained playful but there was a bite to her final question.
"I serve the strong, and I wish to offer myself to you." Wenduag dared to finally raise her head to look at the vampire, who was staring down at the kneeling mongrel with an apathetic look.
"My master will decide what happens to you. Now come, we shouldn't keep Momonga-sama waiting." The vampire spoke, casually lifting Lann by the strap of his quiver and dragging him through the portal she had emerged from. Wenduag was left staring at the vortex, weighing the pros and cons of trying to overpower the one-eyed girl and run away, and came to the conclusion that obedience was the best for her survival. Perhaps her new vampire mistress might even share some of that strength, Wenduag thought to herself as she stepped across the dark vortex's threshold.
"My lady, I swear I didn't do anything to the creature." Suture managed to cough out as a babau demon was currently squeezing a clawed hand around the dretch's neck. Such a sight in the middle of Kenabres would usually draw the attention of the guards, were they not currently all occupied by the armies of Deskari.
Areelu Vorlesh, the Architect of the Worldwound was paying no attention to her underling's suffering, nor did she seem disturbed by the chaos, death, and destruction that rampaged around her. Currently, her full attention was on the body lying before her as she prodded at an open wound on its chest.
"Release him." She addressed the babau, after it began squeezing harder to the point it felt as if Suture's head would pop at any moment. "I'm aware you did not cause this, removing a soul so completely is beyond your capabilities. No, this is the work of something else. Pharasma's psychopomps perhaps? An Aeon seeking to correct my work? More information is required. [Discern Location]." Areelu Vorlesh chant the words to cast the 8th-level divination spell, targeting the soul of the deceased.
The only foils for the spell [Discern Location] is the equally powerful [Mind Blank] or the direct intervention of a deity and in both cases the spell should simply fail, but even that would be information the genius Areelu could work with. Yet the spell did not fail but nor did it reveal what was expected. In place of learning where her target's soul had gone, words instead appeared in the air in front of the witch. Areelu had become quite an accomplished polyglot, being able to speak Abyssal, Aklo, Celestial, Common, Draconic, Dwarven, Elven, Giant, Gnome, Halfling, Hallit, Infernal, Necril, Orc, Sylvan and Undercommon and yet the words before her were unfamiliar.
By the time the witch could fish out a scroll of [Comprehend Languages] from her Bag of Holding and activate it, the message had changed. The message now read "Initiating the 1st Attack. Summoning a group of low-ranked demons. Activate Runesmith skill. Activating [Summon Abyssal Lesser Army] from Rune creation skill."
Upon reading these words, a black sphere appeared in the sky a short distance above the witch and dozens of objects began to rain down upon the area. Standing about the size of Suture, the objects were revealed to be demons with deformed bodies: heads swollen too large for their shoulders and mouths filled with sharp teeth. Eyes that lacked eyelids looked over Areelu and her entourage before some of the new demons let out a high-pitched "Gyagyagya!" laugh.
The first to react to the new arrivals was the babau that previously held Suture. It charged at the nearest of the new demons, its longspear pointed forward… and the two demons collided. The babau looked down at its now empty hands, confused as to how it had not run its foe through before its attention was drawn to another of its foes 20 feet away, waving the babau's longspear in the air like a flag. The creature the babau had collided with was also holding something that it had not been previously; a small satchel that Areelu Vorlesh had previously pulled a spell scroll from.
One by one each of the demons seemed to manifest equipment onto themselves at the cost of the same items from the witch's party but took no hostile actions beyond attempting to flee back towards the sphere they fell from. The babau grappled onto the foe that stole his mistress' bag of holding and managed to hold it in place as one of the other babaus tore it asunder with claws. Though several of the demons managed to escape, the most valuable items had been recovered.
"Return my possessions, this is a poor location to continue." Areelu instructed her minions to pick up the weapons of nearby dead crusaders to compensate for their lossed possessions. Is this the work of Socothbenoth? This would fit his modus operandi well. So is he to blame for this interference with my work as a means of revenge against -hm? Areelu's train of thought was interrupted as the words from previously had changed once more and now read: "Confirming that the amount of time has elapsed. Shifting to the 2nd Attack. Summoning of a group of middle-ranked demons. Activate [Blood Magus] skill. Activating [Summon Abyssal Army] From the skill Sacrifice Blood."
The corpses of the slain demons that had appeared from the black sphere previously began to convulse as blood was drawn from them and began to form into a crimson sphere. The babaus braced themselves for what was to come whilst Areelu allowed herself a sigh and vowed that she would make that trickster pay dearly.