Red Jack and Nightingale
Chapter Five

The cave carried an unsettling silence about it upon entering. This was Memorial Cave, devoted to heroes that had long since been deceased. Serge doubted that anyone knew of what had befallen this resting place for the fallen warriors. Due to a lack of visitation, evil had made its home in the cave in the form of monsters: vampires, ghouls, and other foul beasts.

Serge crept quietly from the entrance, down the path to the first small room of the cave where the Vampires had erected their warning for intruders, that is, if that is what it was supposed to be. They had taken a rotted corpse and strung it up by the neck. Most of the damage to it wasn't from decay; the body was more than likely just a few weeks old though it still smelled. Vampires, if they had no need to feed kept the victim for a few days until they needed the blood, and then they drained the unfortunate soul. Sometimes, the Vampires would stretch their victims out on an altar and mutilate their bodies just hear the cries.

This body appeared to be one of those unfortunate souls. In Serge's experience, some Vampires could still stay composed as a human and feed sparingly to survive and maintain sanity. Others went stock raving mad and lived as beasts in tiny covens that stayed in old ruins and caves by day and hunted for victims by night. He couldn't recall having ever met any feral Vampire that could still manage intelligible tongue, or if they did they didn't use it.

As Serge made his way down from the rotted body, he came to the fork in the cave. The passage to the right took you deeper into the cave to the various rooms where the creatures would lurk one or two to a room usually. To continue forward would lead to the intermediary chamber that would bring him into one of the rooms that contained one of the aforementioned slabs. From there it branched only a few yards into burial rooms. He'd start there and work his way back and down the other path. If he was here to gather Vampire dust he might as well clear out the cave.

Some of the caves, Vampires still had torches like the one he passed through now, and then back into the darkness. Due to Serge's unique condition he had no need of night vision spells, however, that didn't mean there wasn't a certain spell he wanted to cast. His figure wavered slightly, before fading away leaving him invisible.

His ears picked up the faint click of bones on rock, a pattern that continued for a few moments and then stopping, next the audible crack and pop of bones twisting because they lacked the flesh components to smooth the movement. Years of experience told Serge his first target would be an animated skeleton. He never liked dealing with them because there was no way to cause them pain, and they were more durable than people gave them credit. He pulled a scroll from his belt, a powerful one he had brought just in case.

As stated, Serge's talents lay in the defensive arcane, not destruction. He was a master alchemist, and also exhibited great prowess in the other arts. However, his skills in destruction were next to non-existent. For his trip though, he had brought scrolls and quiver full of poisoned arrows.

He said the needed words and the scroll came to life fulfilling its duties. It burst into fire and flew at the skeleton, blasting it apart. The silver claymore it had wielded struck rock and rang loudly, which was not something Serge had wanted. Sounds of rushing feet filled the intermediary, Vampires as Serge gazed at them from the safety of invisibility. There was no doubt in his mind though, that they felt the presence of his kind and that soon they would use their own special sight.

Vampires not only have to drink blood to maintain their sanity, they have to do it to maintain their appearance as a human. The longer the time they go without feeding, the more their face becomes feral and unrecognizable as human. That was not the appearance of the two Vampires before him, which mean they had just recently fed within the past few hours.

Silently, Serge notched an arrow and pulled back on the string. Vampires, like other creatures have enhanced senses, and one of those is hearing. It was nothing to them to pick up the sound of a bowstring being pulled taught. Immediately the turned to their powers to sense life, and the blue aura about Serge's body suddenly became a beacon. They hissed, and attacked with their weapons. Serge dropped his invisibility and released the arrow and struck one squarely in the forehead, while leaping back to avoid the blow of the other. In seconds he would only have the one to worry about.

The remaining Vampire saw his partner fall back and shake violently because of the arrow that was without a doubt lodged in her brain now, but the poison would also be taking hold. Seconds passed, and she became still. The other brought his attention back to Serge and hissed, dropping his dagger in favor of wanting to dig his clawed hands in the flesh of the intruder. Serge guarded with his bow, and side stepped. Try as the Vampire may, he wasn't going to catch him. Serge smashed his bow long side into the creature's head momentarily stunning it for him to jam one of his arrows into its gut.

"Gwarrrish," it hissed, gripping the arrow and pulling it free.

Fortunately the damage was done and this one too, would be succumbing to the poison that had been introduced to its system. Now that at least the present danger had passed, he could examine the Vampires and take anything of value they possessed. In moments, Serge was done examining the bodies for valuables and other objects and moved on, retracing his steps back to the fork and taking the other way.

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Else where in the cave, a patriarch awoke at the death of two of his sires. He had been slumbering peacefully, as there was nothing else to do this night. They had already taken a soul and had a blood feast the unfortunate traveler. The sudden deaths meant they had fresh meat in their midst. He gripped the handle of his blood red claymore and rolled out of his pine box. Delaine and Author would have also sensed their deaths. As if on cue Author came to meet his death father half way.

"There is someone in the cave Father, what should we do?"

Father was the term that he had ordered his children to call him, it was reminiscent of his old life, petty yes, but he liked to be referred to as "Father". His real name was Jarvis Gilroy, he was an Imperial and he was over two-hundred years old.

With age, Vampires gain power. Jarvis' own sire, had offered him his own blood, which had set Jarvis free of bondage one hundred and twenty-two years ago allowing him to become a full Vampire and start his own clan.

Author and Delaine had been a pair of dark elves he turned twenty years ago. Their arcane talents were magnified by their dark powers, and proved very useful in subduing humans for feeding rather easily. The two that had just died, were even older than the elves at fifty-two and seventy years and Jarvis' most trusted and valiant children. He snarled and shoved past Author in the dark chambers ahead.

"Just follow me," he growled.

Both Vampires wore heavy armor, but made no noise as they trod down the dark tunnels looking for Delaine or the intruder. They were just about to enter into the room before the fork when they heard and felt Delaine's death. There had been a stretch and a twang, synonymous with arrows, right before the dull thud of it penetrating her flesh followed by her dying wail.

Moving closer, the undeniable presence of something assaulted them. Author would be too young to have met one, but Jarvis knew very well what their intruder was. Author scanned the dark with his eyes, unable to discern the presence of life like his death father yet.

"Drop!"

The voice of his sire echoing through his mind hadn't made him quick enough as another arrow flew out of the dark and pierced him through the throat. Blood poured forth from the wound, and while it wasn't deadly to a Vampire, Author knew there was something wrong because he felt a burning sensation coursing through his body. He looked up, and could see his killer, notching another arrow to finish him off. Ignoring the sensation, he charged with his sword drawn past Delaine's body.

She had died from an arrow through the head, much like one of the others. Author hadn't noticed, but Jarvis had. He concluded that the assailant was using poisoned arrows, and that he had just lost all his children. Rage filled him, as Author finally fell, another arrow protruding from his chest.

Jarvis put all his focus onto killing this creature, to make him suffer for having ruined years of work. Selected people, chosen by him were now dead. Jarvis had the makings of a clan beginning and now they were all dead. He leapt, bearing his claymore.

Serge saw the Vampire clearly, and fired off another arrow before rolling back. Having anticipated the move, the patriarch deflected it with his claymore and touched down lightly close to Serge. In response, Serge let loose a triple shot distracting the Vampire and tossed his bow and quiver away quickly so he could move freely, but slipped on a misplaced rock. Now on his back, he looked on as Jarvis descended on him quickly with his claymore. Serge sat up and crossed his arms to receive the blow. Jarvis thought him a fool until he saw that his claymore hadn't sliced through his arms. With a few thoughts, Serge's skin had taken on the density of steel protecting him for the time being.

Enraged that a fatal blow had been thwarted, Jarvis raised his claymore again and slammed it down still finding no effect on Serge. Reaching up, Serge placed his palms against Jarvis' stomach and blew him back with a forceful paralysis spell. The distance was enough for him to get to Author's body and claim the deceased Vampire's sword as his own. Spinning to face Jarvis the patriarch, he found the Vampire staring at him, open-eyed. The darkness in the cavern seem to strengthen around him, a further sign that something was going on was that the torch outside the room suddenly died out.

Serge felt a familiar twinge in his core, as he realized the patriarch was morphing. He tore his armor and belt off in anticipation, and dropped the sword. The Vampire before him suddenly, convulsed before doubling over. Labored breathing filled the air around them as Jarvis' head snapped up. His eyes were solid black as he opened his mouth wide, showing off his already formidable fangs that were growing longer. To accommodate the new girth of his teeth his jaw was altering as well.

Standing and raising his claymore, Jarvis threw it with enough force to knock Serge off his feet. His alteration spell from earlier was still at work, so he hadn't been harmed with the blade edge striking him in the chest.

Leathery wings sprouted from Jarvis' back, he flapped the flexibly to ensure their working order. His claws finished lengthening out, sharp as razors. Serge growled deep from within as his own transformation began, hair rippled across his body while Jarvis finished.

The audible crack of bones filled the air as Serge's shifted within his body, causing him to drop on all fours if only for the time being. His jaw stretched, becoming like a set of knives as his fangs sharpened. His night vision became much stronger, now seeing heat given off by living creatures. There was a loud rip as his shirt and pants shredded from his increase in size. From his rear stretched a long tail that quickly covered itself with hair. Serge could feel his ears migrating upward to the top of his head, molding to fine tips like that of a wolf. The whites around his blue eyes turned black, giving them an intense glare. So many things became known to him with his enhanced senses. He could smell the decay that lingered everywhere, track the scent of blood by air although there where so many here. He could hear the drip of water from the stalactites of the caves. With his whiskers, he felt the slightest change in the air. Reflexively, he scratched his claws on the cavern floor.

"I hope you love death werewolf, you're not coming back," Jarvis hissed.

Serge's vocals had been affected by the change, but he still uttered a growl in response as the two attacked one another. Snarling Vampire, struck growling Werewolf and the two tangled, smashing viciously into the cave wall resulting in several loud bangs. Jarvis snapped at Serge's throat and chomped down on the thick fur of a wolf's neck. Serge growled heavily and pulled him off before side slapping him through a stalagmite where the Vampire rolled on the floor quickly recovering from the strike. Hurtling through the enclosed space aided by his wings Jarvis drove his claws into Serge's stomach. Howling Serge's bit down ripping a section of muscle out of Jarvis' arm. It made a sickening slapping noise as it plopped down on the cavern floor. The pulled away from one another only for their wounds to heal before Jarvis leapt up and attached to the ceiling scrabbling off.

Vampires being a part of the undead had low body temperatures, he would not be able to see him via body heat, but he could still hear the faint scratches of the Vampire's claws against the ceiling rock. Serge needed to end this before the situation became worse than it currently was. He heard the sound of a body falling through the air and a scrape of metal as Jarvis flew through the air at him. The Vampire had gone through all that trouble to retrieve his claymore. There was no doubt in Serge's mind that the intent behind this action was to decapitate him. Only a fool would leap to meet the Vampire head on, so instead he waited. Rolling to the left as Jarvis swung Serge recovered and lunged at one of his fleeing feet as he passed overhead. Jarvis howled in response to being pulled out of the air by the werewolf, as a quick counter measure he attempted to bury the claymore in Serge's side. The move met with success but Serge ignored the pain as best as he could as he bit into the Vampire again.

His goal was to cause enough damage for a few moments to allow him a plan. Serge felt muscle and bone giving way in his mouth, and satisfied he pulled Jarvis' leg off with a spurt of blood. The angry cries and curses that filled the cave were nothing compared to anything else from earlier this night. The claymore was so deep in his side now that he could not bear to ignore it any longer. He jerked away, trying to pull the blade out as he did so. Jarvis would no doubt be working on regenerating his missing leg right now, though he stilled howled and cursed. After enough tugging the blade slid, free of his side and clattering on the cave floor finally allowing Serge's body to knit its wound shut. His next move would depend on how Jarvis was going to respond to having his leg torn off.

Moments passed in silence. The darkness seemed to crush him as he waited for his opponent to attack. Serge pondered on what angles the Vampire might use to attack, if he could push the Vampire onto one of the rocky points sticking up out of the floor he might be able to end this. It would depend on Jarvis attacking him from the ceiling. The faint scratching of Jarvis' claws on stone met his ears, and as Serge hoped, the Vampire attacked from above falling from the ceiling. Serge leapt with as much strength as his legs would muster plowing into Jarvis. Both he and the Vampire flipped in the air and landed on the cavern floor. There was loud wail from Jarvis' throat and a brief second of pain as Serge realized something had stuck under his left foreleg. The Werewolf had succeeded in his original plan seeing that Jarvis writhed beneath him as the stalagmite protruded from his diaphragm. Unfortunately, Serge had also wounded himself but there was no time to waste, he had to act before Jarvis could do anything to free himself. Dislodging the stalagmite from his body Serge reacted quickly, his wolfish jaws clamping around the Vampire's throat. Jarvis' claws pierced his sides in an attempt to force Serge off him but nothing would weaken the Werewolf's death grip at this point. Blood filled his mouth as continued to bite through the layers of flesh protecting the one thing that Jarvis wanted to stop him from getting at. By this time Jarvis' vocal cords were to damaged to make any noise, but his face said it all as it was contorted in shock that he was going to be done in by a mere Werewolf. Putting forth all he had left Serge bit through his spine severing the connection between his head and body. Jarvis' head rolled off the side and his body convulsed, and flailed wildly underneath Serge before ceasing all movements.

Serge was concerned that the Vampire may rise again, but they had to be very old to survive such a fatal blow. He limped away from the corpse, the hole under his leg healing. As it did so, his lope became much more natural. He was tired, and it had been a tough fight. If Jarvis had been anymore powerful that he was, Serge would have lost. He made an error and accepted the fact, thinking that the Vampires living in this cave would be nothing. He pawed silently down the tunnel, towards the entrance of the cave. Sun light poured through the wooden door covering the entrance to the cave. His body began to revert to his human form. The fur receded and his tail sucked back into his spine, which then began to straighten up. As it did so, he stood up, walking shakily. Serge's muzzle shrunk back into his face, his teeth flattened back out, and the claws on his hands shrunk back into short, dull human nails. By the time he reached the door, he was normal. He would rest outside for a few hours before daring to venture back into the cave for his possessions. Sonya would no doubt be worried to death as he had been gone since yesterday, but he still had work to do in the cave. Jarvis' body had to be burned along with the others to ensure total destruction of the Vampires, and he required their ashes.