by Kindred Ult
As if to prove their determination well founded, the group of first classes and other assorted creatures of death were already at least half of the way to the vampires' camp. The vampire camp itself was filled with frantic movement as they tried to prepare for some sort of a defense. It was not long at all before hundred of skeletons began sprouting from the ground in front of them, but nothing was stopping them.
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Despite himself, Brand was definitely having fun. Although he did think it was too easy, he just could not deny the satisfaction given by mowing through dozen of undead with his sword. All of the others were having as little effort, and some were even laughing. Above them, Nightwing flew and batted demons from the air. They were like gnats to him, and his tail, claws, and head brought many of them to their deaths, but they kept flowing from the portal. With one breath, he blew blackness over a large group of them as he flew by, and when the darkness precipitated, their bodies fell to the ground in pieces.
Honestly, Brand did not even have to do much, since his loyal Minotaurs had formed a protective circle around him, and they did not even slow as they bashed through the skeletons. None of the werewolves, slowed, and they were almost to the vampires' camp. He could already see the vampires and necromancers scrambling around in panic. This would be a slaughter.
But even as he came within a stone's throw of the camp, figures began falling from the sky among them, landing like small meteorites and wasting no time in startingt to kill. They looked like large Werebats of a sort, and they were insanely strong. One in particular, landed down right on a first class and tore her arms off before grabbing her head and crushing it between his hands. Despite their strength, however, they were few in number, and were outnumbered at least four-to-one by the werewolves' most elite warriors and allies. They could not stop all of them, and none hindered Brand and his Minotaurs as they continued on.
Just when he began looking for a good target, he saw a huge white form fly up and head into the air. On further inspection, he saw that it was a completely skeletal dragon, and he saw it fly straight for Nightwing and clash with him. Brand followed the trail of the undead dragon down to one specific necromancer who looked very strange. He wore black, like all of the others, but his face looked more like a skull than anything else. "Looks important." Brand headed after him instantly.
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Lyke, the leader of the Silver Manes, was having fun, and had to laugh with glee as he shoved his fist into the chest of one of those Werebats and ripped out its heart. It tasted so delicious, and he could feel the thrill of the hunt flow through his entire body. This had to have been his third, and they kept tasting better. They were strong, sure, but he was the leader of a superior group of werewolves, there was no way any bat could destroy him. He was war and death incarnate.
Another bat charged him, but just when it shot forward with help of its wings, he dodged to the side. As the attack went past him, he swung his hand down and cut the arm in two. The bat did not stop, but turned and struck with its other arm, which Lyke grabbed with one of his hands before sending the bat flying back by smashing his palm into its chest. It fell to the ground, and he still held on to its arm for a second before taking a bite from it and throwing it away. Now it had no arms, but it still tried to stand and kick at him. He laughed and stalked towards it, intent on getting his fourth kill of the night, but then another bat stepped between them, and immediately, Lyke knew this was no ordinary one.
"What is your name?" Lyke asked, wiping the blood from his chin.
"N'colto. I am the leader of my people, and I am here to stop your slaughter of them, Luke, leader of the Silver Manes."
Without bothering with a reply, Lyke lunged forward. His knife-like claws led him, like blades pointing at their opponent before goring him. N'colto ducked under the lightning-fast strike and kicked out, shoving its feet claws deep into Lyke's stomach and pulling him towards it with the leverage of the feet. Growling, Lyke grabbed the leg with both hands, digging his claws into it, and picked the bat up and into the air before slamming it to the ground on the other side.
N'colto sprang back and managed to get its leg away from Lyke. Once it was back, it went straight forward again, its right cross catching Lyke off guard and almost breaking his jaw. He had never felt a punch as strong as the one that smashed into him, and for a moment he felt fear, but then he shattered that fear with blind rage. He retaliated and punched N'colto as hard as he could in the gut, causing it to stagger back, then kicked it to the side. N'colto fell to the ground, but was back up instantly. Even as fast as it was, however, Lyke was already above it, and he flashed his fangs as he slammed N'colto to the ground with both of his hands. He was on top of N'colto almost before he knew it, and he began raining blows on it with a speed and ferocity he had never used before. N'colto placed its hands on its head in an attempt to block the attacks with its arms, but Lyke's fists kept coming down with unequaled strength. Soon, a small grave was dug simply from his attacks, and the two of them were several feet under. Still he kept attacking, shouting profanities and unintelligible words of anger. His eyes were completely black, and spit flew from his mouth and pooled on the ground around them.
This bat had tried to challenge him. Him! He was crushing it now, just like all of the others, and just like all those in the future. He would destroy them all. "I will destroy them all!" The roar sounded from his throat.
So intent was he on destroying his opponent, in fact, that he even threw three more punches after his head had been grabbed by N'colto's feet and torn from his body. In the end, however, his headless body fell to the ground, and N'colto, his arms hanging limp by his side and his chest filled with large holes, ripped out his heart with his feet, sitting to eat it. He looked around after his eyes had reformed, and saw that he and his troops had delayed the werewolves just enough. The vampires and necromancers had set up an almost-suitable defense, and now he and his people were done in their task. He called the retreat, and he and ten others, all that was left of his race, flew from battle into the sky. He had seen the problem, and had done his best to solve it. His part was done.
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The weird-looking necromancer must have seen Brand coming, because as soon as he was within fifty feet of him, skeletons began flowing from him and materializing between the two of them. At first glance, it was obvious that these were not the regular kind of skeletons. They were all deformed in various ways, and it was clear that they would be more dangerous. By the time Brand and his minotaurs reached them they were fully formed, and the two sides clashed like small armies. At first, the minotaurs burst through the skeletons, although a few were killed by strange traps inside the skeletons, but when they were about halfway, they were slowed, and eventually ground to a halt.
Just like with the larger battle, these skeletons kept flowing from the necromancer, and it seemed that there was only one way to stop them. He grit his fangs, told Brokenhoof to keep fighting, then pulled his large sword from his back and leapt in the air straight at the necromancer. Only then did he notice the last skeleton to emerge, with four bodies, eight legs, eight arms, and four axes. The necromancer smiled and the ribcages of the skeleton's bodies burst apart. Long, whip-like appendages shot from them, with two coming straight at him and two whipping towards him from the side. Brand ignored the two coming straight, and only grunted when they rammed into his torso. The other two, however, he did have to worry about. He shoved his sword straight down in front of him and held it with both hands and all of his strength. When the two came around, they struck the sword first, and then hit each other with a loud snap.
As planned, the two bone whips simply cut into Brand's body instead of slicing him in half as the necromancer had obviously intended. While still in the air, Brand felt his skin harden around the fo
ur whips and knew they were held tight. He was about to pull the skeleton towards him when it spun on its axis and yanked him from the air with all of its whips. While reeling him towards it, it let its axes swing wide, and in moments they looked like one long, circular blade around it. Brand grabbed one of the whips with his hand and spun himself around. His great strength counteracted the taughtness of the whips, and they bent around him as he spun and brought his sword around.
He ended his strange spin just slightly to the side of the skeleton and swung his sword out even as the axes spun towards him. The defining factor of the exchange was Brand's reach. His arm was longer than theirs, and his sword was far longer, so their bodies were separated from their legs, and all the received was a deeply cut chest. His rib and lung quickly began to heal, however, and he ran at the necromancer, who was at this moment trying to perform an extremely difficult spell. The necromancer saw Brand as he lunged for him, and in an instant he canceled his spell and spun towards him. His stuck both of his hands out, and spouted off some word right as Brand pierced him through with his sword. A large force shot through him when he pierced the necromancer, and in that same instant, Brand felt his chest collapse inside itself.
Still, his heart was fine, as the necromancer had to fire at the last second, and Brand swiftly overcame the pain to jerk his sword and cut the necromancer almost in half as his weapon left his body. Brand looked down at the crumpled heap of a man in front of him, then turned to see all of the skeletons he had been fighting, as well as at least six hundred of those in the main battle, fall to the ground and disintegrate. He smiled to himself, a few more of those kills and this battle could turn quite swiftly. It was only then that he looked down and saw a huge hole in his chest. Blood was spurting out from it, and when he bent forward, he could see his beating heart just off to the side.
Even while he looked, though, the flesh began to grow around the troubled area, and Brand knew that it would only be a minute at most before he was completely healed. He was about to run at the camp again, when he saw something black out of the corner of his eye, and reflexively stepped to the side and brought his sword up to guard. His reflexes served him well, as he felt his sword clash metal with another weapon and saw an Other vampire fly past him. It passed him and stopped only ten feet away. When it turned back, he saw that it looked quite similar to Demenn, except that its horns went straight forward then curved back behind its back. It held two swords in its hands, and the look on its face was a mixture of anger and superiority.
It made no change of expression, and spoke nothing, but somehow Brand knew it was about to attack. Its wings twitched, and then it was right in front of him, swings its swords at him with blinding speed. Brand quickly backpedaled, knowing that this was short burst, and that the vampire would not be able to keep it up forever. He kept both hands on his sword for greater control, and found that in that stance he did not need very much strength to stop the attacks. Still, even with his greater control and strength, Brand was hard pressed to keep up with the vampires' double attacks, and it was giving no sign of stopping anytime soon.
Then, in a way Brand could not understand, the battle went from being fierce to being deadly in the space of two seconds. The vampires swung his swords from both sides at once, and Brand had to block one with one arm and the other with his blade. He realized once the sword in his arm barely scratched it that the attack was only a fake, and the vampire was crouched low with both of his arms close to his body. He sprung forward, with his sword pointed straight at Brand's exposed heart. Brand's arms were too far up to completely block the attack, but he did manage to slap the swords down so that they entered into his stomach.
He could feel them stab through his intestines and break out the other side of his body, but the pain only drove him on. He drew his sword back, reconnected his other hand to the hilt, and swung out in a vicious counter attack. The vampire pulled his blades straight out and leapt back, but it did not count on Brand leaping after it. While still in flight, the two of them exchanged blows at an astounding rate. This time around, Brand was able to use most of his power in each of his strikes, and the vampire had to use both of his swords to counter the blows. Had he used all of his power, Brand knew for a fact that the vampire would not be able to block his strikes, but that would also slow him down, and he knew that the vampire was only waiting for him to give it an opening.
He knew that this vampire was strong, and guessed that, either this was no normal Other vampire, or that all of them were this strong. He seriously hoped that the former was true, as he had many hard fights ahead of him if it was the latter. The wounds in his chest, both in his ribs, the two holes were the whips had stuck him, the two gashes where the other two had cut into him, and the large hole the necromancer had blown in him, hurt, but from some reason the two that had stabbed through his intestines burned like hell. He wondered why they were not healing, or at least starting to, like all of the others, and it was only then that he took a good look at the vampires swords. They were Wolfsbane.
Then their respective leaps ended, and the vampire wasted no energy landing forward and shooting its head straight at Brand. Its horns came straight at him, and the vampire grinned when he felt the thud of bone meeting snout. When he tried to pull back, however, he could not, and when he frantically swung both of his arms out from both sides, they were caught.
Brand laughed hollowly, and clamped down his jaws on the horns he had caught in his teeth. His jaw had torn a bit, bit it was healing quickly, and after just a few moments pressure, the horns between his teeth broke apart. Brand lifted the vampire into the air by his arms, then let go of one and grabbed the other with both of his hands. Using his grip, he slammed the vampire to the ground and got on top of him, pulling his small sword from its sheath as he did. He lifted the blade above the vampire, but then, for the first time, it spoke.
"Wait! I am Darius. I am the general of the vampire armies, and you can ransom me for a great fortune." Even as fear was all over his face, his tail slowly rose from behind Brand, and a large bone protruded from the tip of it like the stinger of an insect. It aimed itself directly at Brand's heart, but stopped in its tracks when Demenn shoved the sword down into the vampire's head. The head split in half, and the tail fell limply to the ground.
"I am Brand, vampire slayer, and I don't give a damn." Brand saw Darius' one last eye widen in surprise before all went dark for the general. Brand ripped out his heart and ate it as he watched the rest of the battle. The first class werewolves were in the camp already, and were slaughtering at will. Many skeletons were disintegrating from the battlefield as their masters were cut down, but Brand could still not see where the battle was headed. He let go of his eyes and saw the battle with his other sight. The vampire leaders had wisely amassed their forces in the middle of camp in the time it had taken the werewolves to overrun the werebats, and they were holding their own, at least for the moment. All of those not in the main battle, however, were doomed a very horrible death.
Brand casually flicked his eyes over the battlefield, and then saw something that made his heart quicken. "E." He whispered. How he wanted to fight alongside his brothers, but at the moment, reverting to any other form would mean his death, and he was only alive now because of the heart he had eaten. His holes were just beginning to really stitch themselves together, and his two stab wounds had not even started. He resolved to wait until he was rested to battle. "Soon my brothers, soon." He swore, as his minotaurs formed a protective circle around him.
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From their elevated position, it was clear that the werewolves were wreaking havoc throughout the vampires' camp, but it was hard to make out quite what was happening. There was general slaughter, as all of the mythically powerful beasts spread from their one point of entry like a plague and, at one point, almost seemed to disperse into singular units. When they all heard one load roar, however, they stopped their bloo
dy revelries and converged towards the middle, where it could be seen that the King and Queen were heading with a group of their best warriors. Further inspection saw Safiria and Vladimir with what appeared to be their personal guards and many militiamen at the center. This moment was exactly what E had been waiting for.
"I'm coming for you, Christine." He whispered.
The captain of the paladins shifted from watching the battle. "What was that, E?"
"Ah," E smiled and shook his head. "Nothing, let's begin our attack."
Both the vampire slayer and the paladin armies charged from their hiding place in the woods and into the clearing. They ran down the slope and prepared to join the battle, as if it could get any more complicated.
As she charged towards the camp, Nasoren found herself running right next to Triplecorpse Hammerblow and Jacque. The latter of the two looked over at her and grinned mischievously.
"Have not a care, child. Stay close to us and we will ensure that you escape from this dreadful engagement with your life intact. Is that not correct, Triplecorpse?"
Triplecorpse grunted his reply, and to accentuate his point, he drew his hammer by its head from the leather strap on his back.
Nasoren smiled her thanks. "Well, thank you, but I'm no ones prey, and I need no protecting."
Jacque stared at her with a different eye than before, and even Triplecorpse spared at look her way. "Very well lass, have it your way."
