Again…just who is this person?
Ankorr grabs the waterskin which lays by the lakeside, throwing it in the depths without opening it since he knows it’s filled with blood like all the others.
This is the third time this has happened in two days, the third time that when he surfaces from the water, finally ridding himself of the hunger that he finds a waterskin lying on the side, filled with fresh, juicy blood.
The first time, he opened it without caution, almost letting himself return to a frenzy dousing himself with the contents. The second time he was wary, preparing himself to resist. The third time, he did not need to bother.
At first, he thought it was some twisted ornament one of his kills had dropped upon their death, but now he believes someone was playing a sick joke on him.
They knew, whoever it was. They knew the blood turned him into a monster, they knew it would torture him day in and day out.
He perched on his favourite rock, one by the waterside looking down upon the black glistening waters, thinking pensively upon the matter.
Planning to catch the culprit, he forms the strategy within his mind, since he has nothing better to do with his time.
Sadly all his plans go to naught as a figure walks into view, wearing beginner clothes. In his hands are a thin book in one hand and a knife clutched in the other, clean and gleaming in the low-light.
The figure, stepping into the light, reveals himself to be a young human, with messy dark brown hair and sharp green eyes. His face is equally sharp and intelligent, although some hidden by a scraggly beard gained from many months of not shaving.
“Who are you?” Ankorr asks, slowly bringing himself up to a defensive position.
The figure bows majestically “I am sorry you do not remember me for I certainly remember you”
“That doesn’t answer the question; do get on with it for I have little patience right now” Ankorr growls under his breath.
“You certainly have nothing better to do” The man looks up with a smirk to which Ankorr cracks his knuckles “But before you do kill me, I shall tell you my name. Fadrim, as for who I am, I am no one special, just a man in search for magic”
Ankorr squints his eyes unconvinced, raising an eyebrow at Fadrim for a few moments, till the memory returns. It returns in a river of blood, just like the one he had procured from Fadrim as he tore his throat out and drank him dry.
He remembered; Fadrim was the first…
“Then why are you here, I possess nothing of the sort” He glances worriedly at the knife “Do you want revenge?”
“Ha, once, when I was naïve I did want revenge. Revenge for you murdering me when I was trying to help, revenge for ripping me apart unjustly. But after a while, after discovering what you did, I learnt of what you are, or something about you in the least” He begins to pace academically back and forth.
“And?”
“I do not want revenge, it is wasteful, useless and will do nothing for the either of us. What I want is your power”
“My power? You want this curse? This eternal restless hunger that haunts me night and day?” He looks aghast at Fadrim for even thinking of willingly wanting such a thing.
“Oh god no, as you said yourself, it’s a curse. What I want is the power over blood you possess”
Ankorr cocked his head, confused, as he did not have power over blood, rather it had a strange power over him, compelling him to do things he would not ever do in his wildest nightmares. Though when he thinks of how blood keeps him alive in the most impossible of situations, he realizes Fadrim may be telling the truth.
Continuing to pace back and forth, Fadrim coughs and begins in an educated tone.
“You may not believe it, but you have power over blood. Have you not seen how even when wounded, blood will heal you back up, restore lost limbs, and keep you living when you should be dead?”
“And how do you know this?” How Fadrim knew he wondered.
“I have been watching you for a few days, watching the people you massacre. I have seen it happen” He merely shrugs as he says this, as if watching Ankorr brutally tear into other humans was not scarring to him.
That worried Ankorr.
“So you want my power over blood, how would you get it?” He did not trust Fadrim by any means, but then again this was the man who had tried to help him long ago, and he had unwittingly killed. Listening to him would not hurt, that was the least apology he owed.
“I will stay by your side, watch you from up close, examine how blood affects you and try to recreate with my mana. You will be like a book for me, to read, to learn from, to decipher its inner meaning and to procure knowledge from. And in return, I will feed you, keep you sated”
‘It’ growled lustily, acceptingly, lovingly almost, at the sound of being given blood willingly, being fed like a dog would be fed by its master. ‘It’ wanted this, almost needed it. Ankorr shook away the feeling as best as he could before looking back into Fadrim’s sharp green eyes.
“And why should I let you? Why should I let myself become a guinea pig to being your ‘book’ as you said?” He started walking towards Fadrim, every step imposing and filled with pressure.
Fadrim started walking towards him, leaning in when close and whispering in Ankorr’s ear.
“I wasn’t talking to you” Warm, fresh blood gushes onto Ankorr, drenching him with the delicious scent of sweet crimson.
…
“AAAAAAAAAARRRG-”
*CRACK*
The zombie slams into the floor and gets an arrow embedded in its skull a few seconds later.
“Oho, seems like our adventure is finally getting somewhere” He does a small jump and a whoop while Tandra looks at him, slightly amused but it’s quickly overcome with the hot feeling of frustration.
For the past three days, they searched the giant spider cave, climbing up to the tunnels and then slowly exploring them.
For three days, they walked through empty webbed tunnels which lead to small nests, void of their spidery inhabitants.
Their going was slow because of two reasons:
The first was that there were over a hundred tunnels, all spread out around the cave, all with long winding corridors that ended up in a dead end after many minutes. It took a long time to climb between each due to the sticky webs, so they could only explore about twenty tunnels a day before they were too exhausted to move.
Well, by they she meant herself.
The second reason was because she was the only one exploring them.
He was spending most of his time setting up a square of spikes made from arrows, climbing to the top and then dropping down in different positions while screaming for joy at the top of his lungs.
She thought that was the crazy bit, until he walked off the arrows, most of them still embedded in him and he went off to do it again.
On the rare occasions that he was up top when she reached another cave, he did join her in sightseeing however.
And on the more rare occasions, he would disappear entirely from the cave, only to return, short of breath, as he had run from the respawn point in town.
He had died twice, once by impaling himself in the head, the second was by falling on his head.
She had shaken her head at that, but she was also mortified that the man didn’t seem to care that he had died, that he had lost an entire level, twice. She wondered just how many levels did this man have to spare?
Her train of thought is disrupted by another zombie lumbering at her.
Rushing past him, the zombie goes straight for her throat, to which she bashes it away with her bow before planting an arrow in its brain.
They had finally found something on the fifty seventh cave; zombies.
Not just any zombies, but ones with rotting miner clothes and some holding pickaxes and other tools of the trade.
That answered the question where the bodies went, but it was replaced with another question: why are there zombies here?
“I know what you’re thinking, there’s probably a necromancer or something” He nudges the head of the zombie with his foot
“What the hell would a necromancer be doing down here? And where is here?” She asks him, to which he shrugs
Slowly trudging through the corridor, they are set upon by another zombie, who ignores the roar of the man and goes straight for her again.
Dispatching it, she looks confusedly at him.
“Ah yeah, forgot about this. Whoops.” He chuckles while rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.
“Forgot about this?” She walks over to him and jabs him in the chest “Forgot about telling me what? That the undead don’t give a damn about you or something?”
“Exactly that, I think”
“You think” She looks him in the eyes, giving him the look to which if he doesn’t explain to, he will receive harmful punishment,
“This is only like the third, well fourth time this has happened so I’m kind of new to this too” He shrugs and continues to walk forth.
She strides after him, catching him on the shoulder with her hand.
“Before you waltz off into your new friends, I’m going to need an explanation and a plan on how to deal with my lack of tank”
“That’s a tall order Tandra, ooh not sure I can do I-”
“CUT, the crap and tell me, because I’m the one who’s spent three days in this pit of webs getting myself stuck in webs while exploring dead end after dead end, eating nothing but raw spider while you fucked around. I had to spend the last three days sleeping in cobwebs because you thought there was something here, and you didn't even try to look for it! So if you are going to be playing games with me, I swear on my Ma that I will shove my bow so far up your arse that I can use you as a battering ram against these zombies because that’s exactly what I’m going to do if you don’t tell me how the fuck I’m going to deal with them if you’re not tanking them.” Her thickening Irish accent seethes through her mouth and seems to suffocate the man, bringing a slight sweat down his brow.
“At least you think it’s your bow” He chuckles before quickly putting his hands defensively on his rear, backing off as she tightens the grip on her bow “Ok, ok sorry for pissing about, but you are more cut out for tracking than I and I’ll let you know that my physical resistance did increase by a tenth of a percent which is pre-” She grabs his collar, lifting him slightly off the ground.
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“ALRIGHT”
She lets him go.
“I believe it’s a blessing from my goddess Aela, don’t know why though, since she’s the goddess of Immortality” She raises her eyebrows in confused wonder, but doesn’t react in any other way “Anyways, I think I may have an idea on how to help you, but you may want to close your eyes”
“What are you going to do that I don’t want to see?” She asks him, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, not of him, just of what insane plan it may be.
“Well you know how the undead kind of find their prey through smell, maybe, well I was thinking to mask it.”
“No” She responds, fully knowledgeable about the few zombie movies she’s watched and the ‘plan’ of which he’s talking about.
“Might as well try” He looks down at the dead zombie.
“Nu-uh, I am not putting that things decrepit guts all over me” She vehemently shakes her head in denial while staring at the zombie.
“What if they aren’t decrepit?”
She turns back round to look at him confused, until she sees him holding fresh intestines in one hand and pulling out more from his own stomach with the other.
“BLAAAAAAAAARRRRGH” Regurgitating her previous meals all over the ground, she fights to stay standing.
“It doesn’t hurt to try” He lobs his intestines over her bent double body, quickly encasing her in them and causing her to spill more of the inside of her guts on the floor.
Once he rips the rest of his guts out, he slices the blood vessels on his wrists, soaking her with his blood for a few seconds, before he wraps the wound as closed as he can.
“I’ll BLAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGH KILBLAAAAAAAARGH YOU” She growls at him whilst vomiting profusely.
“You’ll have to catch me first” He giggles childishly and begins walking into the corridor.
She quickly stumbles to follow him, tripping over his guts and into her puke.
Standing back up, she swears to her mother and father that she will catch him and beat him within an inch of his life by the end of this day.
She almost misses the zombie as she slowly stumbles after him, and notices within the recess of her mind that the zombie pays her no attention. Possibly because she smells of him and fresh vomit, or the fact that she looks like she’s just dived through a person’s body.
For the better part of twenty minutes, she follows after him as he waits on corners slowly leading her on with a bounce in his step.
At one point he even hi-fives a zombie, laughing at the cocked head the zombie replies with.
To her, it seems like he is having quite a lot of fun. She will end that soon though.
For her, all she can look at is him, and because of that, she doesn’t notice the change in scenery; the walls have become more compact, hand-made and the number of undead increase, till they seem to be in a constant line, waiting, guarding.
Soon dirt becomes stone and the cave becomes a corridor, filled with un-lit sconces on its walls.
She does eventually notice it however, as he feet slap on the stone, echoing through the corridor.
Her fucks given are at an absolute zero and she stumbles on towards the man, who disappeared off in the darkness ahead.
Continuing through, she almost trips on the stairs, which spiral downwards quite a way.
Taking a first step down, she slips on the slick blood and tumbles down, shouting in both pain and anger.
As she rolls down, guts flying everywhere, she enters a small light, which soon grows till she bursts past the source; a torch.
“WHO IN KRAVULKOR’S NAME ARE YOU?” A voice, cracked and old screams towards her direction as she rockets into a well lit room.
“I’m OOF” She feels herself slamming into something, and feeling really pleased about it too.
Removing the guts from her face, she sees a man with pale white skin, a long white beard and a wispy head of hair wearing patched black robes; look down at her with gleaming yellow eyes.
“AND WHO ARE YOU?” He exclaims violently, revealing the few yellowed teeth remaining in his mouth.
“Sorry about the intrusion, I was simply exploring these lovely caverns with my friend and found myself here” The man stands up in-front of Tandra rubbing his head in apology.
“Exploring? Intrusion? Sorry? Nobody explores down in my domain. Nobody intrudes upon my sacred sanctuary. And nobody says sorry when they do such things.
“Guess I must be nobody then” Tandra feels her eyes rolling at the obviously inane response that the man just HAD to give.
“…Ha, for that I might just give you a quick death” He seems mildly amused, but a small black and green sphere starts forming at his fingertips.
“Do that and you’ll never know who we are” The sphere grows “Or how we just walked past your guards”
The old man stops casting his spell, she presumes that’s what it is, and narrows his eyes towards the man.
“KALUTH ALOR” He shouts, and the sound of moving bones and slapping feet from above rattle down the stairs “SHA” The sounds stop.
“Oh so you can control them, so you must be the necromancer then!” The man exclaims clapping his hands and rubbing them excitedly.
“Yes, I am Riäzur, servant of Kravulkor” He bows with his hand, keeping his eyes strongly on the man “And who may you be?”
“I’m simply a wandering priest on his way to meet Aegi. By the way, who is this Kravulkor you speak of, is he like Aethelx perchance? Also don’t mind my friend; she’s but a fellow wanderer.”
Riäzur raised an eyebrow upon the mention of Aegi, a second upon the mention of Aethelx and a dropped jaw at the mention of no knowledge of Kravulkor.
“Ignorant! So much so that I should kill you where you stand, and your friend.” He stares unblinking towards the man.
“Then why haven’t you?”
He takes a few seconds to answer, as if thinking the words through “…Because you are blessed by Aegi and seem ever so familiar with the name of Aethelx, not something I would expect from one who seems to be a human”
“A good enough reason I suppose. And I am a human, just…a bit special you may say”
“I see…” He looks down towards Tandra “And her?”
“Normal human, but harming her would be causing me much harm”
Riäzur grimaces uglily at that. She guesses he was looking forward to kill her.
“She can live for now, but she can wait outside with my guards. I shall not have such lowly scum in my presence, even if they are ‘friends’ of one who is blessed by Aegi”
The man turns to her and shrugs. “Sorry, but seems like me and Riäzur are going to have a chat, I do actually need to talk to someone like him funnily enough, so just wait upstairs for a bit will you?”
She couldn’t actually believe what the man was saying, much less so that he was actually willing to have a conversation with a necromancer, the one who raised the miners from the dead and is using them as guards.
She doesn’t know anything about Riäzur, but she does know necromancers are infamous for being evil.
“He killed all those miners, you saw them shuffling about upstairs. And you want to talk to him like he is a civil being? You want to share conversation with him? I know you’re insane, but this is just pure madness. He’s evil, a monster!” She stands up, lifting the man by his collar severely pissed and confused.
“Evil is perspective Tandra" His voice became solemn, stern. Something she had never heard before, and his face, no smile escaped his lips. He was serious and that scared her a little bit "this man is but a priest. For a Demonic God yes, but a priest nonetheless. As a priest myself it would be rude to kill him; rude to both priesthood and to his God” He breaks a smirk, wiping off all seriousness from his face.
His logic sounds flawless, but Tandra just can’t wrap the idea around her head fully; to simply believe that a necromancer to Kravulkor is a priest and nothing more.
But she still lets him down, more from utter confusion than anything else.
He puts a comforting hand on each of her shoulders.
“I know it’s confusing but you have to trust me, this is my job you know” He chuckles lightly. “Now go upstairs and rest a bit, I will call for you when we’re done ok?”
After a few moments debate and a strong yet gentle push, she slowly makes her way upstairs.
The man turns back round to Riäzur, who is waiting patiently.
“Now, I think we have much to learn from eachother, Brother Riäzur”
…
“GET AWAY” Ankorr screams towards Fadrim as he walks towards him, for the third time today, knife in hand, clean and gleaming.
“You don’t enjoy, I get that. But understand me, I need, no, I desire this. All I want to be is a disciple to your ways, and I will pay the price with my blood and life for as long as need be”
“I DON’T WANT THAT” He screams as if it will push Fadrim away.
“You don’t, but ‘It’ does. I WILL sate your hunger and maybe then, when you have a clear mind, you’ll accept me”
“NO DO-FOOD!!!” Ankorr can only watch as he rips hungrily into Fadrim through the gash on his chest. Only able to stop himself halfway through, and much too late.
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Author's Corner:
...Yeah, i did say i wouldn't be posting anymore...Well apparently it was a lie.
But then again, I got a lovely little comment :* :* so i had the need to write another chapter.
Ok really going to stop for today, might do another chapter tomorrow if i'm feeling up for it.
Until then, Pleaase comment and review because then i know if you like/hate my fiction :D(T_T)
-TRUE NORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD