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Legacy of Kain: Not as Defiant as I had hoped...

Next Chapter (duh)

The lord and nearest thing to a God in Nosgoth, now a petty Fledgling once again (poor sucker, I AM GOD) was dozing off 'tween the Pillars of Balance and Nature. I memorized the layout. Conflict is next to the Mind, see? SEE?! Good, now I can continue. Kain, in his unconscience ramblings, made his dislike for furnisexuals clear. He really didn't like it when Zephon started nailing his throne. Vampire... sticky... doesn't wash off very easily you know. Well, he isn't going to be doing much for a while, so I'm skipping to the Sarafan Stronghold, where my personal creations (one of which I am) stand guard.

Sarafan Stronghold

All was unusually quiet for the home of the Sarafan sorcerer-priests, their being the biggest society of booze hounds in history, Malek being a good example of that, as only two adolescents occupied it. Whereas I can't inhibit the C.A.T.F. directly, I can still piss them off. You see, I left Mike and Ryan of Chibi Kain fame guard. And they locked the front door. HA! Mike, in Sarafan robe/armor garb was leaned up against to a wall opposite vampire Ryan who held a super ball in his hand. He wound back and let it fly! Mike titled to his head off to the side, dodging the insanely bouncy ball.

"Nice shot."

He wasn't so lucky on it's second pass. "Damn! My eye!" As some of you may have guessed, the ball bounced back over to Ryan, then at Mike for a second try at him. He never saw it coming, and he'll be lucky to ever see out it again. To those who guessed, I give you a piece of candy, to those who did not, jackshit. Mike staggered off to the side, still fearful of another bounce in the eye, face buried in his hands. Ryan's manic laughter reverberated down the desolate halls. The human member of the duo, having just read the boozing society paragraph, began strolling down the halls, every intention ending with the simple goal of getting shit faced. Story's getting rude, is it not?

Regardless, his getting somewhat lonely friend dashed down the halls after him. Together again, and after a crack about being an idiot followed by a crack to the fibs, hurting the assailant more than the holy Angel of Light, he has a breast plate you realize, they continued to wander down the halls, Ryan's undead nose serving as a beer detector. After taking a left from the main couryard, they began to discover the corpses of Mike's brothers at arms. Dead by alcohol poisoning. They were getting close, and the hyper nose was sniffing around like my dad if he catches wind of chilly. Then he usually creates wind of his own. They reached a door with a large keg carved into it, and they knew they had reached their goal.

"We've reached our goal."

See?

"Wait, our goal? When did you inform me of alcohol? This makes no sense, it must be that shotty author assuming I'd read the previous paragraph, however my being one NOT to cheat would be requiring a comrade to fill me in on the current situation."

...

"You watch too much Mallrats. Alright, you want the short of it? I want beer, we found beer. Drink beer?"

He really is my Sarafan incarnation, always mocking Ryan. Anyways as they reached for the knob, pausing to try and bat the other away, a bellow reverberated down the halls. The vampire Concept of a Demon came tearing down the hall, screeching to a halt before the two secondary characters who won't appear in another chapter. Sorry for all their fans. (Like there are any)

"Sorry, came to warn you of impending doom!!"

Ryan snorted. "That's always good to hear."

Ah yes, sarcasm, a champions breakfast.

"We are in danger how?"

Concept glanced at the corpses on the floor. "Remember the enemies section on the Defiance web site? The revenant."

The two glanced at all the corpses littering the hallway.

"Ryan, you are suck a dumbass."

"ME!?"

The fallen Sarafan leapt to attention before the argument could continue, and began to degenerate horribly, moulding flesh and decaying. At once, they may sound the same but there is a difference. Well back to the good stuff. Dozens of the decayed wracks of flesh, inhabited by hylden scum, attacked at once, their well fashioned Sarafan axes, sabers, pole arms and bastard swords seeming too heavy for their frail forms flashed down to strike -

Stone and steel. The vampire authors had disappeared apparently, appearing in the midst of many ghouls, their claws seeking soft flesh, sending corpses and maimed foes sprawling. They dashed to and fro between attacks, their flesh and bone no more than immaterial mist. The newest member of the group gave a fallen Angel of Light an uppercut so powerful it sent both of them into the air. Using no more than the power of his mind he maintained his height for several gouges and slashes, finally taking a hold of it's nearly removed arm and sending it into a wall, telekinetic powers allowing him to drain it of his blood while descending.

One of the undead wielding a massive blade brought said weapon around in a vicious arc. The attack was far less vicious than the one released by Ryan as he dashed past the swung blade. The force of the blade was enough to spin the creature 180 degrees, his head popping off as he completed the spin. The over zealous spawn of Rhonda *cough* Vorador shifted between material and no more than thick air as he passed one by. It spun with it's broad axe extended, missing the somersaulting foe completely. The one closer to being a hero landed behind him again, and snapped his neck, then bit down, draining the so easily flowing blood.

A sorcerer-priest's pike struck ground harshly, a flash of 'purifying' fire snapped to life and died just as quickly. Several possessed members of his holy order collapsed in piles, while more crowded around him. He was not as quick or powerful as his vampire companions, but he was far beyond the skill of the lurching ghouls before him. He quickly hopped backwards, dodging a cruel blade, and sent the creature's soul back to hell. A blade to his left, the guard on his forearm deflected. The shaft of his pike shattered a revenant's throat, and in a 360 spin in the opposite direction, no more than a blink, he lopped off the impure skull.

The numbers of their foes fallen to a bare handful, our secondary heroes put them down with fang, blade, claw and magic.

Mike turned to Concept. "Now, what's this about danger?"

The two non humans just stared at him, causing a shrug. "Hell with this, I'm getting drunk."

Vorador's mansion.

Raziel stalked the corridors. Kain was gone, great. Vorador called a meeting and the oh so great Pillar of Balance went on an escapade. It did remind him of his youth, which in turn reminded him of his... previous endowment. Man did he miss his... man, I suppose would be a proper way to put it. Well, at one point he was a fan f the ladies, now he was a fan of Sponge Bob Square Pants. His centuries in the abyss damaged more than his figure and stature, not that he was very tall to begin with. Highest Lieutenant of Kain, shortest vampire in Nosgoth. Only second to Zephon by an inch (being 5"7 sucks balls) earned him teasing even by Melchiah, who would then be searching for his scattered body parts. Raziel was not one to mock.

He reached the conference room aka the war room aka the love pad (more notoriously called this when Vorador was without guests) and opened the door. A sight more foul then his father's game of strip poker of Dumah streaking came to him. A game of strip poker between the Sarafan Lord (our beloved Jimmy Bob) and Vorador. It appeared the 'mighty' Hylden General hadn't found his way out after being damned to the mansion he currently occupied four centuries from them, to five centuries prior. Messed, nay? Eh? No? Ja? Wait, that last one's wrong. I suck at any non English/French languages. Well I suck at French too. They glanced at him, and he stared, wide socketed. Heheh, poor blue guy. Vorador was winning by a good deal, and seeing more of that green headed wrinkled body wasn't his idea of pleasant. Maybe for Zephon, who would have instantly proposed to the beautifully carved chair he sat upon, but that's a rather disturbing story.

"Raziel, come, come. Did you manage to find Kain?" Vorador seemed nonchalant about the situation. Of course, due to the alterations in time, he actually lived with him for centuries. Now THAT would be the original odd couple.

"I have only two things to say in response to this. First- no, I don not. Second- arg, cast me back into the abyss I have seen the very image of disgust!!"

"So you didn't find him?"

Raziel was having what appeared to be a panic attack. Mortanius entered the room, having heard the cries, took a look at Raz, Vorador then the Sarafan Lord. "Well, it's better that seeing your green ass nude."

Jimmy Bob decided to actually speak. "No either, Necromancer?"

The ancient Death Pillar shrugged. "Nothing interesting, just a crushed pen and the clear absence of all his gear, except this." He held up a pentalich of tarot. "Maybe you could swap the cards for these?"

Vorador was unmoved. "Don't see why not. Let us give it a try."

After about five seconds, the every member of the LoK dream team present was sprawled out on the floor. Morty managed to sit up, a large burn in his side. "I think my latin's a bit rusty. Manus Celer Dei!" And with that, they all remained down for quite a while. Let's see what going on outside.

Vorador's courtyard

The Ward of the Nine, proud Paladin and all around super hero (yeah, right) Malek patrolled the courtyard. Some things never changed, like his being eternally on guard and loyal to whoever gave him a place to sleep. In this case, it was Vorador. He had 'overheard' some of Vorador's brides talking about the missing Kain while 'protecting' the window outside their room heavily. Very, very heavily if at all possible. Sick, even while a suit of rune encrusted armor. And some people think that RAZ led the Sarafan, heh. He heard a bush rustling off to the very center of the courtyard. He did his best to seak over unheard, and threw out the occupant. It was the vampire Faustus. "What the hell?"

His brethren, Marcus and Sebastian, jumped him from the very same shrubbery. He was dragged down by the three also three century and a half vampires. They stood ever him as he collapsed into his various pieces. It was a good self defence method if his foes knew not of his ability to reassemble himself.

Sebastian spoke in his usual, annoying as hell voice. "So, the mighty slayer of vampires has become no more than a scrap pile. Oh, the shame of -"

He couldn't finish the sentence however, Malek gripped his throat with centuries attuned telekinetic powers. The Paladin reassembled himself with no haste, the two not being choked assailants stepping back in surprise. It became obvious that this would entail a fight. Heheheh... The embodiment of Conflict used the powers of his mind to send his shrill voiced opponent into the air, then leapt after him. He paused in midair and bashed the big S down with such force he bounced back up, one, twice, thrice and finished with a stout blow from his pole arm. He landed perfectly, no worries in his mind. These three were far from reaching his level, their sire the only person in Nosgoth to have bested him.

Marcus pressed his hands to his temples, focusing the powers of his mind to project into Malek. No effect. The defiant spirit glanced over at him and patted his own head. "No mind." In a movement so quick he left an after image he had reached and batted away the master of manipulating minds into one of the more shadowy corners of the massive courtyard. Faustus threw himself at the armour man feet first, succeeding in landing the blow. The massive pressure forced onto the breastplate drove him back half a dozen feet, digging up soil in his wake. Amused, the Sarafan performed the same technique, with far more effect. He felt bone snapping beneath his feet/boots as he drove the fledgling back. S-boy made a second pass at him, dashing paths around and past him. His gift of speed was a useful one indeed, but Malek had a gift far greater. He fazed away and reappeared directly before Sebastian, the might in which he attacked was amplified by the vampires momentum, the effect being the speedster swatted away and split open at once.

Claws scraped off of his armour and a powerful kick landed across the back of his helm. He lost his balance and fell forward, saving himself with an uber cool hand spring somersault combo and landed facing the attacker. Nothing. Marcus' voice mocked him. "You'll never catch me." Malek got the swift idea to extend his arm. An invisible enemy who had been running circles around him was clotheslined, then impaled as he drove his pike straight down, quite literally through the slowly appearing foe, gagging and choking on his blood. His experience in hunting vampires gave the wound an A+, being fatal, and he stepped on Marcus, dragging out his blade.

A crackle of magical energy dispersed over his armour, forcing him to the ground. An attack no BO2 vampire could ever perform. He rose to his feet, his stance defensive. Standing before him was the Time Streamer, Moebius. "Look at you, a pawn believing he can defy the will of fate. Such a sad moment to be a Guardian."

A swarm of bats flew over the mansion, and Malek grinned inwardly. "You aren't foolish enough to attack me alone. Let's see your pawn." He formed a ball of energy before himself, and struck it with his blade. It shattered, dozens of small fragments of energy were sent towards the old git. In reprisal, he scooped up dirt and threw it in the bath of the lethal attack. The dirt changed into hard steel, taking the attacks punishment and leaving the oldest member of the loyal Circle untouched. He knew now the foe who aided the old fool, and detected an attack. Magical energy crushed the firmament upon which he had just stood. He landed a few paces away, facing the Alchemist, Anarcrothe. "Here you are." Knowing it to be difficult to attack Moebius while defended, he rushed the alchemist. His blade crumbled away in his... absence of hands the instant it touched Anarcrothe. The disfigured fool threw back his head and laugh. Malek threw his forearm into his neck. Guess which one was laughing next?

His magically imbued armour was beyond the effect of petty Alchemy, and quickly put the poor fruit to rest. Then a miracle happened, he began to change, having absorbed the power of states. He became, human! "Sweet!! After I kill you I'm taking my 'man' for a walk." Disturbing.

Moebius was... slightly intrigued for about a moment, then he glanced down at his chest, a blood devouring blade piercing it. It was no mere swarm of bats that flew by overhead. It was Kain. Didn't see that coming did you. "Damn, at least I saw it coming last time..."

Malek took off his helmet and grinned at Kain. "I was wondering when you were going to get involved."

"Soon enough." Kain shoved the old git, now drained of blood, off his blade, and welcomed the powers of time. He aged, grew in strength and became Elder Kain, the man!

At that precise moment, Razzy boy leapt into the courtyard, looking for some action. "Hey, what the hell happened here?" And at that precise moment, which is one after Raz, Bane ran in from the other side.

"Sorry guys, that eggplant went through me like... oh crap."

Raz dashed to him quickly and clasped him around his throat. "Crap is right, booong!" Then he ran the Reaver through Bane and absorbed the powers of Nature. He grew a plant on his head. Wow. "What the hell!?"

"Nice plant."

"And I thought you looked like and idiot before."

Raz glared at the two who spoke. Faustus and Sepastian, crawling on the ground. His eyes glowed violently, and he brought the wraith blade up.

TO BE CONTINUED

ps. The name of the plant is Herbert.