Chapter Six: If Only a Door Knocker Echoed Such a Fine Pair
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The wraith Raziel surveyed his surroundings, Melchiah and Zephon were long dead and embraced in gut wrenching pose. In life this may have comforted Melchiah, however for Zephon such a situation would of been revered in a symphony of horrors. One lone piggy tail poked out from the doomed warriors limp form, mocking the masculine traits he had aspired to.
Sadly upon impact, the younger brother had also rammed his comb into Zephons gob, causing the poor fellow to choke away his remaining moments. Melchiah being the lowest ranking member of his brood had nothing to fear, this death still provided the Sarafan, a weird kind of dignity.
Raziel walked into the next chamber, that in the future would be dedicated to the fallen boy king, William the Just. There was a chilling silence and a distinct absence of Sarafan prepared to meet their doom. To be certain of the pairs absence, Raziel searched the hall until he came across what appeared to be a small sign attached to the strong rusted iron gate guarding a set of murals. The note stated the following:
Out to lunch.
Gone fishin'
Rahab and Dumah
Raziel was utterly dismayed by this declaration, it single handedly destroyed his dramatic self righteous vengeful moment. How could fate do this? Breaking the path of his destiny, ruining a perfectly angst ridden, possible spectacle. The entire atmosphere for the deed was single handedly ruined by this proclamation. The wraith despaired until he noticed two figures, through a window, sitting outside the stronghold under a willowy tree, knocking back a few drinks. Raziel was disgusted, honestly, getting soused on the job, true the Sarafan were ideologically parallel to what he now believed, but this behavior was unbecoming.
The serenity of the two warrior priests moment was destroyed as a young man ran screaming away from the stronghold. A booming voice was then heard declaring that the child would not escape his clutches, along with another statement announcing his disgust towards the childs tardiness and the absence of three milk bottles. With this proclamation Rahab and Dumah looked a tad guilty, as the child tried to escape the booming man by climbing the willowy tree.
What happened next failed to surprise Raziel in the least, for vengeance, this was not his eternity. A green aura surrounded the milk boy as his soul escaped a once lively pound of rotting flesh. The force of the 'exorcism' caused a large branch to give into gravity, crushing the inquisitors bellow. Raziel, surprisingly, rolled his eyes and watched as his wayward brothers souls entered the spectral realm. A small stream of milk fell from Dumahs mug as it embraced the grassy area below.
Raziel stared at the sign for a moment and wondered how the Sarafan would remember this occurrence in glorified detail. For two Sarafan in the courtyard were hugging one another in deadly embrace, one clutching a comb and the other sporting pigtails. Whilst Rahab and Dumah lay crushed beneath a branch with the body of a small child at the very top. Thankfully this particular organization was infamous in regard to missing the obvious. His brethren would go to the grave content, with a legend that glorified them as the greatest vampire hunter warrior priests of Nosgoth. Raziel wondered if he and the reaver would even have an opportunity to kill a single hateful relation. With this revelation, Raziel headed towards the rusted iron gates, removed the sign and prepared for his next challenge.
Outside the stronghold, Mortanius nailed yet another soul to the Sarafan keeps entrance. He stood back for a moment, proud of his growing collection. Oblivious to the corpses in his wake, the Necromancer sighed, realizing he was starting to run out of socks.
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Umah presented herself with a feigned kind of dignity. Unknown to the recently awakened Kain, she was regarded as the most inclined within her harem, to comfort big eared, green folk. Her escapades were legendary, for days the pair would be off exploring unknown destinations. The others viewed these sessions with unbridled suspicions and tainted gossip. Vorador would return with a smile on those jaded lips and a song in his blackened undead heart. For his mansion was a large place, with many rooms that needed their attention. The place was so dirty, often Umah would return covered from head to toe in grim. Her secret lay in those scantily clad outfits and a pair of rubber gloves. For you see, Vorry loved the girl as she was the only one graced with the skill and talent to remove the dust mites from his carpeting.
Vorador was many things, forgetful fell short of this expansive list. The decadent vampire remembered Kain's involvement in a little execution that resulted in the removal of his second most prized item. His head continued to tilt slightly to the left and leak whenever there was a need to feed. Now that his tailor had switched sides upkeep on his necks stitching was beginning to fall short. Umah may be a whiz with the old mop and sponge, but her sewing skills sucked. Thankfully his female fledgling grasped certain compensating aspects that constantly got in the way of her housekeeping. The twins were a force to be reckoned with during the war and surely would help keep the legendary Kain at bay.
Upon his awakening, Kain was met with what appeared to be a pair of legs, a torso and a headless expanse that held only what appeared to be two enormous purple weather balloons. Had the world he knew as a boy changed so, that now these hypnotically maladjusted entities were roaming the globe? Thankfully Umah knelt forward failing to break her back, to pick up a coin that rolled out of Kain's previously clutched hand.
Umah: Is this yours, dark child of the night?
Kain: Why you condescending witch. Woman! I believe I have two centuries on you!
Umah: The coin, Kain.
Kain: Yes, hand that trinket over, wench!
The former sleeping beauty grabbed his coin and wondered where the other female servants had wandered off to. The creature before him was tiresome and annoying. It was time to call his faithful guards to remove this vile, largely endowed vixen.
Kain: Gaur- urk.
Before he could finish his sentence, the twins came into full view plastering the former war lord to one side as Umah turned around to face the nearest window.
Umah: My dark prince, you have been asleep for two centuries.
Kain looked down and noticed that he seemed to be missing his favorite amour chest plate.
Kain: Foul harpy, explain this state of undress upon my person!
Umah: Ah yes, I also wondered what happened to your outdated plates. However, the only other to have access to this chamber was Billy, the most trusted chamber boy.
So ingrained was the integrity of Billy, that Vorador believed the lad to be the most suited to guarding the power mad comatose body of Kain. The basis for this judgment came to light when the pair met at a local brothel, two towns over. Both having the exact taste of women in varying degrees of undress, led the vampire to believe the boy was up to the task. Unknown to Umah, the chamber boy had been earning a penny or two on the side. The rippling hardened abs of the princeling were quite the attraction amongst the old wealthy widows, who payed through the roof prices for a mere glance. Sadly for Kain, one of these ladies decided to take his chest plate as a memento.
Kain: This boy, where is he now?
Umah: I have not seen the fellow today.
For young Billy, granted the dark gift at the age of 15 by Vorry, had faithfully guarded Kain for two centuries. In doing so, the fledgling fulfilled his dream of opening a strip joint on the upper east side. The decision came after an unfortunate incident involving Kain, some whipped cream, a pair of pliers and a harem rival, Cassandra. All in all Vorador couldn't of been happier with the service Billy provided, having visited Kain only once.
Umah sighed, looking out the nearest window wondering if Kain was truly the savior of Nosgoth. Whilst Kain, proudly strolled around the room calling for a wench to serve him the finest mug of ale in all the land.
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