As usual, we own nothing at all, including everything Nosgothic/Nosgothian? Star Trek or the Hoover logo. If you sue, the most you will get is my pen, I own that, possesion being nine tenths of the law.
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Chapter 2
"Wow, you must be dizzy after all that spinning. Anyway, hi! I'm the Hubcap of the Wheel. The Elder God himself. All singing, all dancing…well, maybe not all dancing. I don't really have the body for it. As I was saying, I am the Hubcap of the Wheel in the cycle of Births, Marriages and Deaths, and this is my office. You are welcome."
It was the kind of voice normally reserved for people referred to as 'happy' and 'shiny'.
Raziel shook his head. The urge to crawl away and curl up under a rock was almost inescapable, much like those evenings when Melchiah and Dumah would take it in turns trying to shake him from sleep, ignoring the muffled protests of 'but I dunt wanna go to the council meeting'. With a grunt, he stood up, and looked over the Elder God as well as he could.
"What madness is this? It is you who stole the socks of my brethren?" He gestured to its tentacles. "A single one from each pair!"
Giving a sheepish grin, the Elder God confessed. "Um…Yes, Raziel, that was me. Even gods need to keep warm.
"Anyway, I need you to help me save my office from total disorganisation. I have saved you from the Turbo Spin Cycle, and in return you will free the souls of your maker and your brothers for proper registration. Become my Assistant Registrar, or Reaver of Souls if you will, as that sounds more cool." The Elder God spoke, while frantically waving tentacles around and spreading paperwork everywhere.
Raziel ducked as a particularly large folder flew at his head. "You'll never organise your paperwork like that. You need thumbs. Anyway, what would be the point in me releasing the souls of my brothers when there are entire clans of unregistered souls roaming over Nosgoth? What are six lost souls in the face of clanfuls of them? It's completely illogical. You just want me to commit fratricide because you never had the chance when you were younger."
"Don't take that tone with me young man. Obviously you'll have to kill all the vampires you meet, unless the buggers can be convinced to get married, then impale themselves at a sensible and convenient time, for the sake of the records you see. This will also, if you do as you're told, give you a chance to get some revenge on your brothers and father for burning your trousers." The Elder God knew he'd probably hit the nerve that made Raziel twitch.
Raziel folded his arms and looked away, ever the moody one. "Fine. I'll do it. But you're paying for my travel costs and hotel fees, and I want six weeks paid holiday a year."
The Elder God sighed. Damn you Kain, why couldn't you have thrown in Dumah? That's it, execute the awkward one. "Okay, okay. But I'm only covering up to 2 star hotels." The Elder God brightened up. "Anyway. Training. You'll need it, but I'm in no position to give you any. So be a dear and get on with it. The door's over there." A huge expansive gesture in the direction of the door with one of his tentacles caused another mountain of paperwork to go flying.
Raziel threw one last dirty look at the Elder God, and ran for the door before the Paper Avalanche could hit him. He glanced at the room instead, picked up one of the folders close to him and regarded it curiously, then the one beneath it. Ah, so they weren't in alphabetical order.
The Elder God hoped he had made the right decision. But when something that handy falls in your office, what's a god to do?
Raziel had made his way through the training rooms, growing more and more bored with each. After enduring an entire room of 'training' in operating the office kettle and ensuring the Elder God's tea only had the tiniest amount of milk in and no sugar, water poured in just as the kettle is boiling, in the 'Best God Ever' mug, he sighed and dragged himself out of the room. It seemed he'd reached the end of his basic training, at least.
One of the Elder God's tentacles snaked to the tea-training room. Carefully bringing the cup back he hesitantly tasted it, previous Tea-boys had never got it right. It was actually quite good. He had potential this one. Suddenly He remembered there was something vitally important he'd forgotten to mention, curling a tentacle around a pencil, he scribbled on a notepad, 'Souls must be eaten to be registered properly, I'm not sure how you'll do it, but I'm sure you'll make your own arrangements.' He proceeded with difficulty to take a piece of tape to the note and sent his longest tentacle through to the door of the underworld in the hope Raziel would notice it. If he didn't, it could be a very short trip.
Leaning against the wall as he had been, taking a moment to wallow in his despair and anger at the world in general, Raziel was startled to see a tentacle snake through the door and straight past him, bearing a hastily scrawled note.
He followed after it. "I'm back here." He said needlessly as he drew level with it and the note. Reaching out a hesitant claw to take the letter, he squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't like things with tentacles, or even multiple legs. Just seeing a spider made Raziel squeal like a girl and scream until one of his brothers would come and save him. Quite how he was going to work for this many tentacled, slimy looking thing, he didn't know. His hand hovered just above the note, claws wriggling. With a deep breath, he snatched at the paper.
Feeling the note being hastily snatched from his tentacle, the Elder God thanked himself, for lack of a better deity, that he could return his tentacle to a normal position. Raziel had a point. You really did need thumbs for this job.
"Souls must be eaten to be registered properly" Raziel read aloud, incredulous. "How is that supposed to work" He asked the air in general"Surely there must be somewhere more suitable for souls to go than my" He paused, realising that his anatomy was best kept as a mystery. "Anyway, I refuse to be used as storage space for your clients." With a final grunt, he made his way back to the office.
Under a small mountain of files that was threatening to collapse under it's own gravitational pull, the Elder God found the intercom system. He heard Raziel's question and was now smugly congratulating himself for investing in a way to actually answer his employees'. "You are not a 'storage space' as you so eloquently put it. You are my Assistant Registrar, my Soul Reaver. Through you I can register the souls properly. Anyway, if you don't eat, you'll keep ending up back in my office. If you would prefer a desk job rather than field assignment, let me know. I like your tea." He sounded cheerfully hopeful.
Raziel was damned – well, more damned – if he was going to spend the rest of his unlife as a tea-boy. His shoulders sagged with the weight of his defeat, and the armful of stray folders he'd not found a suitable cabinet for. "Very well." He said, and started to make his way out of the Elder God's office.
"You'll need to leave them folders here. They go a bit yellow and manky when they are taken out of the office." The Elder God shrugged, which involved a shifting of mass that made Raziel's eyes sting to watch. "Outside, to the right of the Tea-training room is an alcove. There you will find a planar portal to assist your transition into the material realm. Will yourself a body and…well, I'm not sure on the technicalities, but it works, anyway, stand on the thing and hey presto, a body. Once you have a material body, there will be a series of rooms to test your abilities. Assuming you're not an imbecile, you'll work it out." The Elder God would have raised an eyebrow if it had one. "You do know how to jump?"
Raziel dropped the folders where he stood, resisting the urge to jump on them just to show how fantastic he was a it. Instead he made his way back to the tea-training room, and found the planar portal. He stood on it, squeezed his eyes shut, and willed himself a body.
Nothing happened. He shuffled his feet and tried again. Nothing. He held his arms out to the side. He stood on one leg. He pulled an over-dramatic pose that he remembered from that Dragonball cartoon Dumah had loved so much. Nothing. He stood on tip-claws and did a pirouette. His surroundings righted themselves. There was, Raziel decided, no justice.
The Elder God sniggered to himself. He loved to tweak with the portals.
Never mind, no one but squid-face saw, Raziel thought as he wandered into the adjacent room…Did they?
He was met by an absurdly large set of stairs. He jumped them. He jumped a bit more. Then he glid…glode…glided…held onto his ex-wings and floated a bit. Something like dread filled him as he dragged a block from one side of a room to the other. The Elder God was obviously struggling with previous employees if this was considered training.
The Elder God was keeping an eye on the proceedings on the security camera network. The television was conveniently situated near an eye so that it didn't get in the way of vital registration work.
Raziel had been coping well so far, but it would remain to be seen if he could cope with the correct registration of souls. He had, just by coincidence of course, two vampires up ahead that needed to be dealt with. It would be interesting to see if his agent would dispose of them, or take the alternative suggestion of trying to convince them to get married and then impale themselves after a set amount of time. The Elder God did have other agents he could dispatch to pre-arranged appointments if needs be.
Up ahead, Raziel noted the presence of two vampires. He approached them at a walk, and coughed politely to draw their attention. They looked at him, with wide, glowing, eyes.
His confidence boosted, he stepped in a little closer. "Excuse me, uh, you two. Have you ever considered the advantages of marriage and impalement? With the Elder God's new legislation, it is no longer a requirement for vampires to die immediately at the hands of his agents. They may now lead somewhat prolonged lives on his new Marriage and Impalement scheme! For example, were you two to decide to marry, you may live in relative comfort for another, say, month before you will be forced to voluntarily impale yourselves on spikes." He nodded encouragingly.
The vampires looked at Raziel in confusion, then at eachother, then back at Raziel. Then the one on the left spoke.
"Did he just say what I think he just said?" He turned to his companion.
"I think so, Brian. I think he asked if we wanted to get married." Came the reply.
The first one spoke again. "He's accusing us of being a couple of pansies, Derek."
The one called Brian turned to Raziel. "Are you calling me a pansy, mate?" He suddenly looked almost apologetic. "Ya see, I'm quite liberal minded meself, but me mate Derek ere, he's a bit sensitive, like. Wot with bein' a downright bigot an' a bit of a jerk an' all. He prob'ly won't take it too nice."
Derek, true to Brian's word, glared at Raziel. "You fink you're funny, mate? I'm gonna 'ave you!"
Brian attempted to reason with the irate Derek. "Look mate, he only asked a question ya know. There's no need ta go all loopy on 'im mate."
Derek, however, was too incensed. "The Blue Bastard called me a wuss. I ain't havin' it." Turning to Raziel, "Come on then, let's 'ave it out. I'll show ya who' the wuss." He challenged.
Brian shrugged. "He's me mate. I 'ave ta join in on 'is side, sorry." He followed his friend's lead and took up a defensive stance, claws raised.
Raziel attempted to remain polite. "I'm terribly sorry, sirs, but if I may still interest you in voluntary impalement?" They ignored him. "Well, fine then." He said moodily, and pointed a claw at Derek. "Just be glad my little brother isn't here, mister, he'd have you picking out your wedding dress before you could say 'I'm a repressed fairy'."
Seeing Derek's moment of vulnerability before his rage could catch up with his thoughts, Raziel jumped forward and took a swipe at him with his claws.
Derek staggered back from the blow. "Oi! Now I'm annoyed." Not taking his eyes from Raziel, Derek gestured to his companion. "Ready, Brain, GET 'IM!" They both lunged forward with murderous eyes. Being called Pansies was one thing, Trying to take lumps out of Derek's chest was beyond the pale.
Raziel ducked a little too late, and Brian's claws run a gash across his arm. Darting to one side he took a quick aim at Brian. Bloody Elder God, what kind of loon kept vampires in their office? Well, except other vampires.
Brian side-stepped the blow. Derek, seeing Brian's attack make contact with it's target, moved in with renewed confidence. Derek grinned. Who was the pansy now?
Raziel jumped back away from his opponents, to regain his composure. He could do this with his eyes shut – two vampires, little more than fledglings…he'd faced far worse odds. He just hadn't done it in a while. He took a step to Derek's side, then darted around behind them. To one side of the room, a beam of light shone through a window. It was worth a shot. He took a limp swipe at their backs, and ran backwards, nearer to it.
Derek turned to face Raziel, he roared in anger and gave chase. Caught up in the moment, Brian followed suit.
A bit closer…Raziel swatted the air in front of him hopefully, in an attempt to keep them interested in him, and not the fact he was standing on the edge of a pool of light. It wouldn't do to have them notice it now. Apart from the koi pond in the corner and the over-sized pin-boards on the walls, he couldn't see any other way of finishing them off.
Brian, too caught up in the excitement of his first real fight, ran headlong into Raziel at breakneck speed. Too late he noticed the light as his momentum, with no way of stopping in time, propelled him forward. Derek however had seen what was ahead and had managed to slow down. He watched with growing horror as Brian went careening into Raziel.
Raziel fell beneath Brian's weight. Brian had an awful lot of weight for one vampire, Raziel realised. He pushed the other vampire off him quickly, and rolled away, leaving the other to his fate. Finding his feet with some effort, he stood back up and immediately dropped into a defensive stance, facing Derek.
Derek looked on in revulsion as his best mate was fried, though not enough to take his concentration away from Raziel completely. Derek, now giving his attention fully to Raziel, started circling around him defensively. "You bloody bastard, that was my best mate."
Raziel began circling back, because it was a pretty effect, and he knew Squid-face was probably watching on the CCTV. "Was. Now he is the lingering scent of toast." He said with some satisfaction.
"Toast! I'll make toast out of you!" Derek yelled as he decided to drop the defensive posturing and go for an all out attack. The best offence being a good offence, in his opinion.
The Elder God sat munching popcorn, he had as many eyes on the TV as he could manage. This was like watching his favourite Star Trek episode, with Captain Kirk circling a particularly dangerous and hostile alien, only better. The sounds of frantic chewing filled the office.
Derek had had enough of trying to make himself dizzy. He growled and lunged at Raziel's exposed chest.
Raziel was caught off-guard, and found himself once again with claws temporarily embedded uncomfortably in what remained of his person. He really hoped the screens were fuzzy; it was humiliating to be taking such a beating on live TV. He leaped at the other vampire, all claws and scary glowing eyes. "Toast, huh? Bring it!"
The Elder God cracked up at Raziel's last line. "Nice, considering you're the one who just got hit." This was getting exciting. He wished he had friends to place bets with, especially as he knew the outcome.
Derek closed in and directed a kick at Raziel's shin. He missed by a hair's breadth, but recovered quickly and spun out of arms reach again. He kept half an eye on the water they were getting dangerously close to.
Raziel dropped into a low stance, his arms held out to his sides. Springing up, he twirled in mid-air, and aimed a swipe at Derek's head as he came in to land. It missed by half the room. Raziel hissed in annoyance. Giving up on fancy moves, he rushed at Derek, drew in as close as he could manage without getting himself torn to shreds, and headbutted the ugly git.
Derek flew backwards and landed rather nastily on a large spike. "You Sod." He groaned as he died.
The Elder God clapped to few spare tentacles. "Oh, good show, my boy. Good show." He watched to see if Raziel would feed. He'd sustained wounds so needed to. It should be worth continuing to watch to see how he would work that one out.
Raziel squinted at the two glowing green things flying idly around. They were souls. He was supposed to eat them, so as the boss could register them. He knew this, he just had no clue how to go about it.
He approached one, and made a grab for it. It slipped through his hands. So they weren't to be served with a plate of potatoes and a nice red wine, then. Shame. Experimentally, he tugged at the top of his neck-thing. It came as a cold surprise to find souls drawn to it like…things to a vacuum. He glanced down to find a small 'Hoover' logo embroidered on the inside of the material.
The Elder God's voice came over the intercom. "Get on with it, Raziel. If you're going to find Kain and your brothers', you'd better hurry it along. The door that leads towards the Sanctuary of the Clans is over there, just ahead of you. Oh, by the way, there are portals dotted all over the place, but I never switched any of them on. Can you be a dear and turn them on for me? It'll make travelling around much easier when it's done. In the meantime you'll have to walk, sorry." The sound of muted giggling filled the room.