“Returning in failure to a vampire army, sucks. Pun intended.” I complained after I was just disciplined by our illustrious employer. Oh I suppose he was my boss, now that I have been turned by the blood.
I refuse to call him father like my so called brothers and sisters called him. Like turning me into a bloodsucker, makes me your son, is pure idiocy.
And he is not much of a dad, Lord Drelem as he styles himself wanted to have me lashed. But good old Captain Helmut went to bat for me, pun not intended that time.
“I still think he should be punished by his kin.” Lord Drelem spat, the so called vampire lord acted as if all of this was beneath him.
“You may have turned him, but he is still under my command. I will discipline him.” Helmut said sternly, with all the will an employee can muster.
My dear old captain was not happy when he learned of my turning. Drelem was quite ambivalent about the mercenary captains protests. But when he took the complaints to the baron over a mirroring. A compromise was reached, I was still under Helmuts command, but would work with Drelem as necessary.
I still never understood why Drelem turned me. I could give in to my ego and say it was my impressive battle prowess. But more then likely, he picked me at random and neglected to check if I was one of his soldiers or part of the barons mercenaries.
While we were contracted to the baron, we were under the command of his chief vassal, Lord Drelem. I was unsure if he actually worked for the baron, he seemed quite independent, nothing like the typical vassal toadies I met.
I eyed the two as they went head to head. Captain Helmut looked as strong as ever. Despite being in his late fifties he had a stocky build, toned muscles beneath his amalgamation of leather and steel plate armour.
He had that beard that every self respecting man envied and perhaps even a few dwarves would to. It was thick and full, pure black and oddly without any gray. The lads speculate that he dies it to keep himself looking young and fit. To be honest, I am not sure why he bothers, I think he would look dignified with some gray.
His square-jawed face and deep blue eyes were stern as he glared down the shorter vampire. Lord Drelem didn’t appear very intimidating at first glance. Ill-muscled, pale and pasty, the typical appearance of a city boy wizard. Shorter then the both of us, probably five feet. He had long blonde hair trailing down to his shoulders, blood red eyes like mine and wore a gaudy gothic suit of black with red trim and a white collar of a strange design.
All in all he was a short, pale, rather scrawny little man. Who could easily slaughter the entire band in a heart beat. If either of us had beating hearts.
My dear sire left the tent in a huff, his sycophants left with him. The trio of vampires glaring at me, disappointed like I was the black sheep of the family. Like I cared what those suck ups thought.
Once they left, Helmut glanced at me. “You know I have no choice.” He stated firmly.
“I understand Captain, whatever punishment you deem fit, I will accept.”
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“Very well soldier, your punishment will be to clean out the latrines for the entire band.” He declared with a cheeky grin.
I sighed theatrically. “I would rather take the lashes. You know some of our brothers, well I don’t know what they eat. But it must be truly fowl.”
“But aren’t you, you know, dead.” He said with raised eyebrows.
“Undead, but I still have a sense of smell.” I complained with little force behind it.
“Well then, this is the decision of your captain. So best get to it soldier, you can sleep when your dead.” He grinned thinking he was funny.
I saluted and promptly left the tent, exiting to the night air. The camp was bustling, but not with the living, but the dead. Zombies were carrying supplies, shuffling along. I noted several of my former minions involved in the work. They were back under the control of there true master.
The camp was making ready, tomorrow night will by the time that we launch a full scale attack on the castle. I turned to the left and made my way to the edge of the camp, towards the latrines.
My heightened senses could already smell the intense odor of waste, it was putrid. This would not be fun, but perhaps my humiliation will be enough to satiate my petty sire.
It took several hours to complete the disposal of all the waste. Quite fast actually, vampire strength and speed have there advantages. However vampire senses made those few hours felt like an eternity.
My so called siblings came by, whispering criticisms and hurtful comments. Knowing full well I could hear them. They thought hurting my feelings would have an effect. They were idiots, I have fought in wars, killed men on the battlefield and sacked cities. Did they seriously think such school yard bullying would work?
I tuned out there pathetic attempts and completed my punishment in record time. I returned to the camp, covered in grime and muck. But the sight of my old comrades as I entered the tent was surely missed.
“You smell like shit.” Edmund the beefy fellow to the right said.
“Yeah your shit.” I replied with a grin.
The giant laughed, he was always the type to laugh easily. He was the nicest guy at camp, but a demon on the battlefield.
“I think we should hose you down. Where is a Sorcerer when you need one.” He exaggerated his tone, knowing full well where they could acquire such skills.
“That would be a gross allocation of my formidable powers.” Sigfried the resident wizard responded, laying on his cot, reading a book none of us could understand.
“We know Sig, you are so important.”
“If you knew it, I wouldn’t need to remind you barbarians all the time.” He complained good naturedly.
The two always bantered like this, it was something I missed. I didn’t get to talk to them much since my turning. They were still my brothers in arms, but I was a vampire now. Immortal in fact, a thought struck me that I would watch them grow old, while I remained young.
Assuming these mad men lived to be elderly, I smiled as the two continued arguing over steel being superior to a glorified waterfall. I wondered if I would miss those distant memories, or will they fade. I shook my head, I will not go down that road, not now.
“I am a sorcerer, I can do more then just throw water at people!” Sig declared.
“Yeah I know, you can see people far away.” Edmund twiddled his fingers like he was casting a spell.
“Without my scrying you would have had an arrow in your arse.”
“My hide could take it and then that cowardly archer would have an axe in his head.”
“And how will a lumbering pile of muscle like yourself find this head in order to plunge your mighty axe.” Sig queried with a cocky grin.
“He has got you there Edmund.”
“I will find him, my axe will find a way. Otherwise I will just throw an axe in every direction, surely one will meet flesh.” He explained as if it was gospel.
“How many axes do you have?” I asked.
“Enough.” Was his only reply.
“I doubt you have the money to buy that many axes?” Sig added skeptically.
“I don’t buy my axes, I take them from the corpses of my enemies. We fight barbarians a lot and they prefer axes.” Edmund explained matter-of-factly.
“Edmund, you are a barbarian.” Sig declared with a chuckle.
“Subtle difference sorcerer, my kinsmen kill each other for glory, I kill my kinsmen and everyone else for gold.”
“And that makes it better how?” I asked.
“It doesn’t, it just makes us richer.” He declared as the three of us descended into a laughter.