by Glen Johnson
“THE PROPHECY I HAVE JUST ANNOUNCED!” shouted a thunderous roar from the throne. Vorr’s breathing lowered danger ously. Droplets of anger spread across his high domed forehead, and dripped from his protruding , twisted black horns –horns that looked like monstrous ram horns that curled around each side of his bold crimson head. His c lawed hands clench ed and unclench ed on the grotesquely carved black stone throne s armrests –a chair that was sculptured in the image of naked humans twisting and convulsing in what appears to be excruciating pain.
“Fine, fine, just clearing that up. So now you’re a prophet as well? Just checking, thought I heard wrong. All cleared up now thank you.” The talking figure stood in a long black cloak that was tightly wrapped around itself, in a now empty and expanding space.
In one movement Vorr flung himself from his throne, which wobbled dangerous backwards, almost tipping over, but its immense stone weight made it right itself with a deafening thud. He leaped through the air with an astonishing amount of speed for a c reature so large. He landed in front of the lone speaker, cracking the ground. He stood with h is feet apart, chest heaving, wings completely outstretched, slightly encircling the lone being, in its huge dark wingspan. His tail lashing about like a thing possessed.
The figure didn’t even flinch, he just stood his ground , while picking a bit of imaginary lint of his black and red silk cloak and flick ed it to the caverns floor.
“Once again you question MY AUTHORITY VROCOS?” Vorr was shaking with rage, his clawed hands twitch ed . Small flecks of fire were flickering out of his large wide , inflamed nostrils.
“My Lord–” the last word spoke with a snarl “–I am but a humble servant. I was simply clarifying the point for those not so , shall we say, completely with it…” He l eant forwards a little to speak. “I f you get my meaning?”
Vrocos was the head of the Order of Vampires, the only one to have the nerve to stand up to Vorr – and the only one with enough power behind him to back his words up. It was also rumored that he covets the throne for himself. Vorr also knew this. At the moment he didn’t need rivalry or divisions, they needed to fight the humans, not war between themselves, so all he could do was try and come out on top of the word games they played. Vrocos showed his distaste by not moving forward when the head of each House was ordered to stand before the throne.
“If any of your people–” Vorr swept his hand to encompass all the vampires in one shad owy section of the vast chamber “–don’t understand my words, then I suggest you talk with them in your own time.” This gave way to sniggering and laughter all around the immense , echoing chamber.
Vrocos didn’t even twitch at the sarcasm , he simple bent a fraction at the waste, in a feeble attempt to show his servitude. He then turned without another word to Vorr, and ambled back towards his brethren who stood at the far back in the deep shadows, all jostling like hungry bats.
Vorr eyed Vrocos’ back. I could kill him, rid my self of that annoying vampire. Time , he though to himself. In time, once we have rid the world of the human parasites I will kill you, and then I will not have to put up with your constant interfering anymore.
In a sudden swift move Vorr turned around to face most in the chamber. His features changed instantly.
“Bbbbbrothers… and… sssssisters… soon all will be ours. Soon we will be the dominant species as in times past. SOON WE WILL CONTROL ALL!” He had his arms spread out wide. His wings flapp ed behind him. His mouth was twisted in a terrible attempt at a fake smile ; his lips twitch ed at the effort.
But the applause that followed was only half hearted, and soon faded out into murmuring and whispers.
Vorr walked back through the crowd towards his throne . The beasts parted like a foul sea. As he approached he walked past Slis –one of his lackeys who was still applauding with wild enthusiasm with its many boneless arms. With one powerful swipe he smacked Slis across the face sending him somersaulting through the air to land in a pile of coils on the other side of the throne. Slis untangled himself and smiled through a split lip ; smiling at the attention his Lord was giving him.
Vorr slumped himself back down in his throne, and turned his attention back to matters at hand: the destruction of the human vermin. But first he needed that bloody Stone Tablet. If only he had destroyed the thing thousands of years ago when he had the chance. Hindsight was one hell of a bitch, he decided.
Chapter Four
ONE BECOMES FOUR
“No, I wi ll not sit down,” Pramos stated while standing behind his chair with his hands clenching and un clenching on the seats backrest. His face was flushed scarlet from shouting. He c alm ed down a little as he lowered his head and saw his red face reflected in the polished tabletop . “What you are suggesting is suicide, nothing less .”
“Please let her finish. How can you judge an argument when you haven’t even heard the whole story yet?” Leinthren the elf added calmly from his position on the others side of the table, while pouring himself another free glass of drin-wos wine –which Minika had supplied ; s o he drank as much as his belly could hold. The others found it a little unsettling when the elf produced a fine crystal flute glass from a pouch on his belt.
“You are not thinking straight Leinthren, that’s what you get by consuming almost two bottles of drin-wos,” Pram os said while looking across towards Graybeard the dwarf who sat opposite him, waiting for him to remark on what has been said.
“I agree with skinny. We should listen to all she has to say first.”
Leinthren was to o busy slurping the last remains from his glass to notice the remark from his long time agitator , Droncin the dwarf, or Graybeard as some called him, even though he was only one hundred and seventeen; a mere teenager by dwarven standards.
The elf smacked his glass down on the table and rubb ed his ha nd across his wine soaked mouth before continuing. “Please sit Pramos you are upsettin g the equilibrium of the room.”
Elves believe all things have a place, where there’s a seat you sit. Where there’s a bed you sleep. Elf rooms are very simplified, with only the furnishings needed in each room , even if they are very fancy and overly attired with lace, curls and gold trim . Never let it be said that elves didn’t know how to dress up an object.
“But Leinthren you are obviously not listening, or else your pointy ears are covered by mists of drin-wos wine .” Pramos, fed up with standing, screeched the chair legs back across the ornate tiled floor and retook his seat.
“May I ask one thing?” Droncin said.
“Please do.” Minika waved her delicate hand in a gesture for the dwarf to continue.
“Why us?” It was a simple question but one that more-or-less summed up everything that had been explained to them up until that point. The question made Pramos look sternly at Minika, and even caused Leinthren to look up from his glass .
“Honestly?” she asked looking at each of the three sat around the table, one at a time.
“Please. I think if we are to go through with what you ask, then we need to know the truth as to why?” Droncin sa id in his gruff gravelly voice.
Pramos was glad the dwarf wasn’t indulging in the wine, like the whimsical elf , w ho had returned his attention back to a new bottle and was trying with all his might to remove the stubborn cork.
“You all know the l egend of the Binding?” She asked.
Leinthren was digging at the cork with a small delicately carved , bone-handled knife, and was trying to push the cork through into the bottle ; he ha d given up trying to pull it out.
“Even if we do all have d ifferent views on the subject.”
Each of the three species had different concepts of what actually took place. But all remain constant on one point; all the vile creatures were removed to another dimension through the use of powerful human magic.
“Now it is believed that a Stone Tablet exist s with the original Spell carved i nto it – the Spell of Binding.”
Everyone in the room was dumbfoun
ded, each looking to the others to see if their reaction was the same as their own. Even the drunk elf looked up as he dropp ed the bottle on the table. Its thick green glass saved it from smashing; it just spun around in a circle, with small amounts of bright yellow liquid dribbling out of the small gap in the cork onto the tabletop.
“You mean to tell me there’s a way to stop all this?” The elf waved a thin silvery hand out the rooms door towards the barrier protecting the village. Yellow wine flicked off his hand and splattered Promas’ top.
The news was a shock, and it took a few minutes for the other two to gain their composure. They knew there was a time before they relied on magic to protect them, but no one at the table had ever experienced it. Not even the long lived elf who was seven hundred and fourteen years old –a mere middle-aged in elven terms.
“Once again, why us? There are your people , some so powerful they can shake the ground, abate storms with a word, and boil us three in our skins,” Droncin said, leaning forwards waiting for a response, while his hands absentmindedly fiddled with a kildradian ; a small twisted length of leather. Dwarfs were master craftsmen and th e small device honed their finger s dexterity, twisting and plaiting, then re—plaiting.
“What you say is true, and to be honest I can’t say why it has been laid upon m-my –” she stuttered “–our shoulders.” She lifted the letter she had received from the Council of Seven , which had arrived via a hawk that had been protected by powerful rune spells, making it invisible until it reached its destination .
“All it tells me is that our time is short.” She placed the letter back on the dark waxed table. The three gazed at the letter, as if it would speak to them personally. Apart from the elf who was looking slightly to the left of the single sheet , as one of his eyes twitched .
“Well... You know as much as I do. May I have your answers please?” She looked around the table .
Droncin was the first to react. He jumped down off the chair and pushed the chair back. Which sort of ruined the effect because he was so short he could only just about see over the lip of the table. “How could I pass up the chance to be a hero? My people will sing great songs about me for generations to come. Count me in.” They could all hear a thumping sound. They presumed he was hitting his clenched fist against his chest, but because it was below their line of sight –under the table –they couldn’t be sure . He also had a wide smile spread across his face from the thought of becoming a hero , even though his luxurious beard – which was braided in his mining clan’s style – hid it.
The elf looked at the smiling dwarf while throwing the empty bottle over his shoulder , sending it reeling out a window to shatter on the ground below, followed by a few muffled screams of protest from beneath.
“Count me in. If he–” the elf pointed at the dwarf with a long delicate , wobbling finger “–can do it then so can I.” He then swung his hand at his head in an attempt at a salute, then spun around and fell off his chair; snoring before he even hit the hard tiled floor. The other three ignored him. When you lived as long as an elf you are bound to pick up one or two bad habits. In Leinthren long seven hundred and fourteen years he had only picked up one , but unfortunately it was being an alcoholic. Luckily it took very little to intoxicate an elf, so even though he was an alcoholic, he wasn’t a poor one. So that normally meant that when he did drink it was usually the best liquor he could find. Elves could never understand a dwarf’s lust for beer and ale; it tasted like vinegar to them –so unrefined.
“And you Pramos, what’s going to be your answer? Will you accompany the three of us?” She looked at him with her mystical rainbow colo ured eyes.
There was something in those eyes , Pramos thought. Something she’s not telling us. Something she hiding.
“I can’t let you go off with these two on your own.” He gestured at the dwarf s head that just about poked above the table and the elf that lay unconscious on the floor . “You would be lost in five minutes.” He shook his head while answering. “Yes, I will accompany you.” Then he whispered beneath his breath. “What good it will do you?”
Chapter Five
BACKFIRE
Vorr knew what garlic did to a vampire, that’s partly why he had started the an noying habit of chewing it , and also in handing the vile stuff out.
Vrocos always had this dilemma : s tand firm and take the bloody garlic, or refuse and look weak. Garlic couldn’t kill a vampire, not one as strong as Vrocos, but it was an unpleasant sensation. It would be equivalent to a human picking up a red hot lump of coal; irrational, and his body always fought against doing so –taking all his will power to hold the lump until they were all dismissed. Of course Vorr always remembered something else at the last minute, making them stand there that little bit longer.
Vrocos knew he would be healed in only a matter of hours, but that , as far as he was concerned , wasn’t the point. But all the same it vexed him how childish Vorr could be.
“Vrocos!” Vrocos was stir red from his musing by Vorr, and his out stretched bowl.
“Will you join your brothers?” said with a sly half smile.
Bloody cretin , Vrocos thought. “Why nothing would give me more pleasure. You know how much I enjoy our little social pleasantries.” Then added, even if they have no meaning in our social structure or even make any sense whatsoever with any of our organizational proceedings, or common sense for that matter , in the confines of his head. He reached out his flat hand, as Vorr dropped possibly the largest chunk of garlic the bowl held o nto his out stretched , paper-white hand. Vrocos slowly closed his hand into a fist over it, trying his best to keep an impassive face. He had to summon all his will power . Smoke started to curl out from between his clenched fingers –burning flesh.
“Good. Now tomorrow we start our new day, our bright glorious dawn. We will rule this world as our destiny de mands it.” He put the bowl down and spread his arms wide. Crushed garlic dribbled from his sneering lips. Spittle flew from his mouth and struck Vrocos’ face. It felt like red hot needles had been forced into his skin. His left eye twitched. Other than that he showed no outer weakness as he could smell his own skin frying.
“All of us will be joyful, because our day is almost at hand.” His voice then turned dangerously low. “Now all we need is that damn Stone Tablet.” Once again he turned bright and happy like a schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder.
“All of you have your locations, where you are to wait , and w hat you are to do. So get going. Don’t fail me, and more importantly don’t fail yourselves brothers.” All bowed (if possible) and then slowly started to file out of the immense chamber.
Vrocos walk several paces away before opening his hand. The garlic slowly became unstuck and fell to the floor with a sickening wet sound, it took a large clump of his pale flesh with it.
You wait you over inflated red behemoth. My time will come, and then you will pay. Oh yes pay you will, and slowly, very, very slowly.
He walked back towards his brethren, smiling broadly , d espite feeling like his hand had been melted off at the wrist and his face had been splashed with acid.
*
“Lord,” Slis said while on his many hands and what could only be described as his knees. “Lord !” h e said a little louder .
“What?” Vorr had completely forgotten about his two sniveling lackeys. “Can’t you see I'm thinking? Leave me.” He rested his head on his knuckles, while watching Vrocos slowly walk away.
“But Lord you didn’t assign us a location to watch .”
Vorr’s attention was still on Vrocos ’ back.
“Ha! You two. What possible good could you two...?” Then inspiration came to him, thinking he could rid himself of these two annoying creatures for a while, giving his ears and the back of his hands a well earned rest.
“While certainly Slis and Qwat, I was just waiting for the right time.” He smiled wickedly to himself. He t hen looked around to check no one was close, and then leaned forwards
as i f in secrecy.
“You both have a special assignment.” Vorr looked around once again, trying to give the impression he wanted no one else to overhear. But he need not of bothered, both Slis and Qwat were to o busy shaking with anticipation to notice anything. Now was their time. Now they would prove their worth.
“Yes Lord,” they both said in unison. Both lean forward slightly, eyes wide with hope.
“There is a small village not far for here . There is only about a hundred or so residents, a collection of all three of their sniveling races. I believe something important is transpiring there.” He smiled to himself, impressed at his cunning and quick thinking.
“I need my best and most trusted to watch that village. Understand? I trust no one else.”
“Yes sire. You can fully trust in us ,” Qwat stated. Both were ringing their hands together. They were seething with joy and eagerness.
“If anyone leaves the village, and I mean anyone , follow them. Don’t report back, or tell anyone. Just follow them and find out what they are up to.” He knew that it was just a small village with a watering point for travelers coming or going to the large city of Keep Safe .
Some even called it New Hope; a completely misg uided name if I have ever heard one. New Prison it should have been called, because the last thing that place had was hope – fear dominated its walls and towers, streets and homes . Fear that seeped from every brick of every building, polluting its people like a virus. Fear that their magi’s power would eventually crumble and the barriers that protected them would falter, allowing my minions to wash over them like a dark tide of destruct ion.
He like d the name of their main city best. New Babel it was called . The ancient humans had built the first heaven reaching tower city –The Tower of Babel –in opposition to their God . How fitting that the greatest city in the world was named after this very first major rebellious act after the last world cataclysm. And even that didn’t stop their God from scattering them all to the four winds. But unlike their ancient, uncaring God he wouldn’t scatter them, he wanted to completely destroy them, finally wip ing the humans off the face of this world forever . Soon to be h is world.
