A rare occurrence marched into a large Anglish town. Sent straight from the Church itself, a group of War Priests marched in formation through the city, in one hand was held their blessed war-hammers and in the other was held a book of divine scripture and Light Magic. Covered from head to toe in sacred armor that had a coating of holy silver, these servants of the Church were here for one purpose alone, and arguably two.

They were here to bring salvation to this evil place, be it through willing conversion or through the force of arms. Why they were here in this Anglish town was something even they knew all too well. In the past week, women from towns around this one had gone missing. Only in this town were there women, and the Eyes of the Church saw that they only came out at night.

The sensation that hung in the air as the agents of The One God, Luminas walked towards the center of town made the hair on the back of their necks stand up straight. There was a palpable aura of lust and hedonism that seemed to only grow in intensity as the War Priests made their way toward the large cathedral that was at the heart of the twisting storm of black magic. Even if the beings within were what was expected to be in there, the War Priests had no fear.

The only thing that could possibly defeat these hardened veterans was an Elder Vampire or, Lumina forbid, a House Founder. While the odds of either of such entities being here were effectively only non-zero, as the highest echelons of House Carmilla were known to have never left the province of Vhalakya in Rusk in the over fifteen hundred years since the fall of the Dark Empire.

Their foes were not vampires that excelled in combat, nor were they ones that excelled in magic. What the chosen of Lumina needed to watch out for was their beguilement and mental manipulations. These lampreys were known for twisting both men and women into serving them, at least until they no longer amused them in bed.

As part of their Oaths of Purity, the thirty-four War Priests had sworn an oath of celibacy, and even had they not done so they would never even dream of sullying themselves with the taint of undeath, thus the very idea of giving in to the seduction of vampires was alien to them. The question that assailed every member of the clergy was the same, ‘how could anyone find a risen corpse to be attractive?’ But such things had long been banished from their thoughts, and beneath the heavy plate armor and helmets of the agents of the church prayers were sung and spells were chanted as the final preparations were made before the push.

They had to work fast, as daylight was fading.

…

Before the servants of Lumina could begin their assault, they noticed that the townsfolk had gathered around them. Their eyes were clouded by dark magics and their movements made them seem less like individuals and more like a unified horde. It was the duty of Priests to purify any evil that took root in the minds and souls of mankind, but a War Priest had a very different way of doing such a thing.

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With a few hand gestures the War Priests turned away from the Cathedral and charged into the horde of living puppets. As their war-hammers smashed through the pathetic makeshift weapons and shields of the mind-controlled humans and shattered their bones the smell of blood that hung in the air only intensified.

With each spell leveled at the mob, another equal spell was used by an unseen foe to either regain domination over the puppet or raise them into unlife. Such a thing was not an uncommon occurrence for a War Priest, but what was uncommon was the number of puppets and the amount of undead that were being created. The thirty-four War priests continued to smash and crush and purify the foes that kept them from their true objective, and the sheer numbers of their foes slowly began to tire the warriors of God.

As the fighting finally died down and the last enemy skull was smashed beneath the Hammers of the Light, the Soldiers of Salvation took a short moment to catch their breath. They had lost some of the advantages they once possessed, as their foe knew they were there, and the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon.

They could not simply retreat and return another day, they had to deal with this coven before it migrated! Nighttime be damned, these undead harlots would face the Almighty Fury of the One God! As the War Priests once again took their position, they failed to notice that the blood that had been spilt during their fight had begun to run together and into the cracks that led beneath the great Cathedral.

…

Sitting deep underground, surrounded by a writhing mass of flesh, blood and other bodily fluids, a single woman stroked herself sensually. She could feel the agony her slaves had felt, their pain and twisted pleasure from their brutal ends flowed into her and her sixty-eight kin, pushing them into an even deeper rut.

The fluids of their pawns started to drip down through the cracks in the ceiling, slowly growing in intensity until it became a short-lived torrent as the Blood Magic of the Founder of House Carmilla moaned and panted in ecstasy. Opening her mouth, she let the hot red rain pour down her starved throat and her porcelain colored skin. As she reached the peak of her lust her eyes shot open and she fell into a trance.

For what felt like hours she beheld vision after vision until the rush of passion and gore ended, and her mind once again returned to the world around her. She snapped her blood-drenched fingers and the mass of bodies stopped their orgy of pain and pleasure. As the survivors rose to their feet, the Sisterhood greeted its newest members, disregarding those who had failed to make the cut.

The newest additions to House Carmilla paid no heed to the remains of their former friends and potential fellow initiates that now lay in a growing pool of their own lifeblood and followed the rest of the House by drinking the mixture of red liquid and bodily juices that had pooled together.

A single voice echoed throughout the underground, a voice that could bring even the most disciplined of men to their knees by dredging up the depths of their lust.

“Shall we greet our guests? I do think they need to be taught how… passionate… they can truly be. Don’t you think so, my daughters?”