- [The Banshee’s Blood — Adventurers’ Guild] -
Shadows coil around the flickering lanterns, painting the adventurers' guild in hues of amber and charcoal. The Banshee’s Blood — the adventurers’ guild outside of the Vampire Lord’s castle — is thick with the scent of spiced ale and roasted meat, a comforting aroma that clings to the dark, groaning wooden beams overhead.
A thief stands at the center of the room between the tables, disheveled and frantic, her voice cutting through the jovial din. Her eyes — wild and pleading — scan the faces of those who gather at the long tables, mugs in hand, laughter frozen on their lips. "He hasn't respawned!" she cries, her words hanging heavy in the air. "I’m telling you! Something got him in the underground of the castle, and now he's just fucking gone!"
The crowd shifts, dismissive murmurs rippling through the room like a lazy breeze. A grizzled warrior raises his cup, tipping it back with a grunt. "Been in the castle myself," he mutters, wiping froth from his beard with a calloused hand. "Died every day so far. Respawn fails? Sounds like nonsense."
The others around him murmur and nod in agreement.
“I died an hour ago,” notes an elf, raising her hand. “Fell into a pit of slimegirls.”
“Floor three?” asks a voice. She nods. “Nice,” adds the man, the two of them exchanging a fist bump as they laugh.
The thief's heart races, a drumbeat of desperation echoing in her chest. Her friend, her companion through countless quests and skirmishes, vanished without a trace. She fucking left him behind, but that’s just because she was sure he would respawn. But he hasn’t. She got out of the castle, expecting him to be here. But he isn’t.
People return to their merrymaking and fun, passing her off as a confused drunk.
A bard strums a lute in the corner, fingers deftly plucking strings as he hums. His voice is soft, nearly drowned out by the clinking of metal and the occasional burst of laughter as people go about their night, not taking her seriously.
The thief’s shoulders slump.
A hand reaches over from behind the counter. A soft, whispering voice hisses into her long ear as the guild's barkeeper leans over the thief's shoulder from behind. “Precious thing. Why don't you tell me all about it?” hisses the cold exhalation of the guild head, Miss Schwester, quietly. She hadn't heard the barkeeper approaching her.
The thief looks nervously behind herself at the shrouded, dubious, and deeply suspicious face.
Immediately, she lights up, relieved. “I can always count on you, Miss Schwester!” exclaims the thief, turning toward the ominous, hooded figure who holds the bony, pale tips of her cold fingers together and begins cackling in a raspy, extremely trustworthy voice.
— As one does.
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- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
A biting chill permeates the air, wrapping around everything in a suffocating embrace. The frozen expanse stretches beneath an arched ceiling, glistening with icicles that drip slowly, only for the droplets to freeze at the tip of the drop, creating a cascading ladder of frozen dew. The underground lake, a vast sheet of ice, reflects the dim light of flickering torches set into the walls.
— He doesn’t know who places these around the castle. They must just be an innately spawning feature, like the walls or the floors. It might just be the castle itself.
Vampire Lord Inkume, his pale skin almost luminescent against the dark backdrop, faces the monstrous six-armed naga coiling and slithering with serpentine grace. Each arm brandishes a weapon, glimmering menacingly as it lunges toward him with deadly precision. The clash of ice crashing into ice rings with each strike, echoing in the cavernous void around them as he dives out of the way, dodging through a collapsing mess of fragments in the form of a black animal.
“Snatch! Why the hell is my own monster attacking me?!” asks Inkume, jumping into the air just in time and twisting, his form weaving through a closing scissor of two black, frozen blades that crash down behind him, sending shards through the air. Snatch sticks to him, glued to his form.
"This is a bad place, Master!" Snatch cries into his long, sharp ears, her incorporeal form flickering beside the Vampire Lord as she wraps around him like an oozy cloak. "This is the entryway between the physical and the spirit world,” explains Snatch quickly as Inkume ducks down, sliding over the ice as an axe the size of a house flies over his head that grazes just beneath it as his claws scratch over the ice to maintain traction. “The old master dug it out himself for the ritual,” she explains. “— to start the Night that Never Ends! That damn snake isn’t from the castle; it’s something else — an intruder — from the spirit world!"
Inkume glances down below the ice as he runs, looking past his reflection and the darting schools of bodies as he realises what he’s looking at.
It isn’t a lake.
This frozen surface is lying atop the underworld. It’s a cork in a bottle. And below it is the very same black, bleak, empty soup that he was floating in after he died. It’s that void, that place — the spirit world? The well of souls? Whatever it is, it’s the place people go when they die, but before they go somewhere else after that.
But how is that related to his own unwanted quest to end the shine of all daylight?
The nagas’ hissing breath mingles with the sound of cracking ice.
Jagged formations of ice loom overhead, sharp enough to rend flesh, while the swirling mist clings to the ground, swirling around his feet like restless spirits. The air is thick with the scent of damp rock and the metallic tang of blood, frozen into the ice.
"He wanted to send the sun to the spirit world, Master!” explains Snatch, yelping and then spinning around to dangle from his belly between his four legs as a blade of ice cleaves just past his head.
“What the hell?!” yells Inkume.
That’s an insane plan. The old Vampire Lord wanted to get rid of the sun, so he wanted to just… send it straight to the spirit world, where its light couldn’t touch the surface of the planet anymore. Honestly, it’s almost an impressively grand idea. He’s a little jealous he didn’t think of it first. It’s genius. That weak wretch tainted the idea by hoping to use it, though. He — a true Vampire Lord — will bring about an era of desolation to the world in his own manner, using his own ideas. First, he’ll kill this traitorous, scaled wretch, and then he’ll…
— Wait, what?
He had one of those evil ideas again. Inkume blinks, realizing he was going down a weird road of thoughts for a moment there.
The air crackles with tension, the icy chill seeping deeper into Inkume’s bones as he faces the monstrous naga, its six arms poised to strike.
“Let’s kill it!” encourages Snatch.
Inkume slides across the ice, coming to a stop as he stares down the boss monster. The giant, many-armed demon roars his way. “Is that the best you can do?” it asks mockingly as the ice around them cracks and crumbles. Chunks of it sink away into the black depths as the frozen island breaks around the edges, becoming smaller and smaller with every strike of the monster as its impacts run along the faultlines carved by the damned below them.
“The Master will eat your soul!” yells the ghost from his hide at the towering naga.
Hopefully not.
He needs to collect himself to put an end to this. If there’s anything he’s learned, it’s that he is not a fighter; his true power lies in charm. The cold expanse around him transforms into a stage, the frozen lake beneath his feet a platform for an unexpected performance.
Matthew-Cray-Anthony, give him strength.
With a graceful step back, Inkume adopts a tone smooth as silk, weaving his words carefully, each syllable dripping with allure. “Hey,” he begins, his voice softening against the harshness of their surroundings. The naga looks at him, shifting its eyes as he approaches slowly. “It must be hard,” says Inkume.
“What do you speak of, worm?” hisses the entity, raising its six arms and all six weapons of black ice to strike him down as he approaches, his shape changing from that of a large cat back into that of an elegant man who strides across the slick ice without so much as a slip or a graceless slide.
Inkume struts toward the towering, hissing leviathan, stopping only to pick up a chunk of ice in his hand that he holds up toward it.
“— To be so hot in a such a cold place like this,” says Inkume, staring into the dripping monster’s slit, glowing eyes that recoil.
“W- what?” asks the Naga, its six arms frozen in the air as they pause their descending strike.
Inkume nods, staring through the frozen orb in his hand. “All alone in such a dark and desolate hole like this… It’s a shame,” says the Vampire Lord. “You possess a beauty that could enchant even the stars, if only they could see you,” he recites from Enfangled, letting its words slip from his lips. The dripping orb of ice in his palm sparkles and glistens like a full night’s sky.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“I… I don’t know what you’re…” it starts stumbling over its words. “— DIE!” shouts the monster, plunging its weapons downward.
“— Come back with me,” says Inkume, not moving an inch as the sword drops just above his head and stops.
“What is this?” asks the Naga, pulling back.
He lifts his eyes, looking at it. “You’ve been here so long, watching this place by yourself,” explains Inkume. “Because they made you do it, right?”
“I… I don’t… Guarding the gate is a great honor!” argues the spirit world guardian.
“You never wanted it!” he yells, suddenly and powerfully raising his voice. His other hand reaches out, lying on top of the giant, scaled, and webbed hand that holds a black ice blade just over him. His palm runs down along its length as he shakes his head, his eyes never leaving its eyes. “You wanted so much more — to see the world,” says Inkume, his fingers wrapping around a single, massive digit.
“How… how do you know?” The naga hesitates, its multiple heads tilting in confusion, the weapons lowering slightly as it processes his words. Inkume feels the tension shift—his charm weaving a delicate thread between them, a whisper of something other than violence. The icy air seems to soften, swirling gently around him, as if even the elements are intrigued by this unexpected turn. “This is a sacred task! My family will -”
“- Your family left you here to rot!” snaps Inkume, raising his voice. He shakes his head, grasping its hand with his second one. “And I know because I’m from the world,” explains the Vampire Lord. “ — So I can tell you how empty it feels without you there with me.”
The frozen environment mirrors the conflict within the naga — sharp icicles drip slowly, echoing the creature’s uncertainty, while the distant crackling of ice sounds almost like the soft flutter of a butterfly’s wings within a black, oozing heart. Inkume allows a smirk to form on his lips, sensing the monster's shyness growing. The once menacing serpent begins to retreat, its powerful form unwinding as it slips back.
“I… I need to think about this…” says the monster. “This is very sudden.”
The naga, now visibly flustered, retreats further, its eyes flickering with a blend of intrigue and hesitation as it slowly lowers its arms and then begins to sink back beneath the water.
And then it vanishes.
The dead below the frozen lake drift down and vanish, all of them closing their eyes as they sink deeply into the abyss — calmed and placated.
Everything turns quiet.
He sighs in relief.
“M…M…Master?” cries a snotty voice from his back.
Inkume turns his head, looking at the wet, googly eyes that stare at him questioningly from over his shoulder like a soggy mushroom with a face. “I thought… I thought that- That-!”
“Don’t worry, Snatch,” consoles Inkume, looking at the ghost having a breakdown. She’s more than the jealous type. “You’re obviously my favorite,” says the Vampire Lord. “But sometimes I have to, you know, talk shop,” he notes, holding out a hand for her to drip onto. Snatch oozes over and then slowly reforms.
“Really?” asks the ghost quietly.
The Vampire Lord looks down past her at the black, empty abyss that leads to the infinite spirit world.
What is he supposed to do with a pit to the underworld below his home?
His eyes look back at Snatch. “Of course,” he promises, getting another idea for the castle. “I trust you the most out of everyone, right?” he asks. She nods to him as he walks off, carrying her in his arms.
“Am I hot too, Master?” asks the dribbling spirit.
“You’re a ghost, Snatch,” replies Inkume dryly. “You don’t have a body temperature.”
She bites him.
— He probably deserves it.
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‘Enfangled: Chapter 19’
Sarah-Sarahbellum shivers, holding herself tightly as she stands by the frozen window of the family's generational kiwi-fruit farmstead. It's deep into winter, and she’s been sent here by her father to help run the farm.
But her heart wants to be elsewhere.
“It must be hard,” says a familiar voice from the other side of the window. “— To be so hot in a such a cold place like this.” She her head around, surprised, looking at the radiantly purposeful eyes of Matthew-Cray-Anthony on the other side of the glass as he stands out in the snowstorm, unphased by its chill that bites like the jealous fangs of a dentist's widow.
“Matthew!” says Sarah. She hadn’t expected to see him anymore after he vanished in that avalanche, saving the puppy farm and a parade honoring war orphans from the snow. She leans against the glass toward him, her heart beating like the fists of a man buried alive against the lid of his coffin.
He looks at her and then away — that breaks her heart the most. “All alone in such a dark and desolate hole like this… It’s a shame,” he says. “You possess a beauty that could enchant even the stars, if only they could see you,” explains Matthew-Cray-Anthony, his fingers running down the glass of the window pane, the squeaking mimicking the screaming agony of her soul. “— Come back with me, Sarah,” he asks, looking at her through the window. “You’ve been here so long, watching this place by yourself. Because they made you do it, right?”
“I… I chose this,” she says, shaking her head, her hand against the frozen glass to touch where his is.
“You never wanted it!” he yells, suddenly and powerfully raising his voice in a way that is dangerous and yet alluring. She loves it when he raises his voice and yells at her. It shows how passionate and caring he is.
His palm runs down along the window as he shakes his head, his eyes never leaving her eyes. “You wanted so much more — to see the world,” says the vampire.
“I know, Matthew,” replies Sarah-Sarahbellum. “But I belong to this world, my family -”
“- Your family left you here to rot!” shouts Matthew, the glass cracking beneath his fist like spidering ice. “I’m from that world,” explains the vampire, stepping back into the shroud of darkness that is the night. “ — So I can tell you how empty it feels without you there with me,” he says with a pain and solace in his eyes that only she can fix. But is she brave enough? Is she strong enough? Is she special enough to be the one to mend his broken wings?
Matthew-Cray-Anthony falls quiet and turns away, starting to walk into the night, and she knows that if she lets him go, she’ll never see him again.
Sarah tears open the window. “Wait, Matthew!” she shouts after him.
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- [The Pit of Bones, Elsewhere below the Castle] -
Blades flash in the dim light, cutting through the air with a whistle. Shields clang against bone with a resonant thud, the impact sending vibrations up the arms of their wielders.
Amidst the chaos of the battle against a legion of undead, a sudden stillness descends — a moment of unnatural calm as all the reanimated skeletons of the swarm freeze in place.
The bones, scattered across the pit, begin to quiver as if stirred by an invisible hand. A low rumble reverberates through the ground, shaking loose dust from the ceiling, and the adventurers pause, eyes wide with a mixture of dread and curiosity.
The bone fragments move with purpose, clattering together. They rise, merging into a colossal form — a skeleton of monstrous proportions, pieced together from the remains of a hundred corpses. Its hollow eyesockets blaze with an eerie light, casting an unholy glow across the pit. A hundred skeletal bodies melt together into the shape of a cudgel. Somewhere, an undead lizard runs along the length of a dozen broken femurs.
The adventurers step back, hearts pounding in unison, the enormity of their new foe sinking in.
“What the hell is that?!” yells a man.
“BOSS FIGHT!” shouts a wizard as the pit itself seems to exhale, a cold breath that saps warmth from the air, leaving only a biting chill that creeps into the soul. The giant skeleton stands tall, its form towering over the adventurers, casting a long shadow that engulfs them in a darkness so heavy that even the torchlight is crushed by it. Half-fused skeleton mages protrude from its sides, magic glowing in their hands as other bony arms holding taut bows line its sides like ridges of a hill.
A single, long, high-pitched shriek that does not match the undead titan that rises out of the chamber fills the air as a massive hammer of bodies strikes down to flatten them all.
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“What do you think, Snatch?” asks Inkume, standing on an inner balcony above the boneyard and watching as the new titan crushes down the world with its hammer. The fabric of his shirt reweaves itself together as she finally lets her teeth release from him.
— She has been gnawing on his chest for the last ten minutes non-stop.
“It’s beautiful, Master,” says Snatch. “He has your eyes,” praises the ghost, as a giant skull the size of the moon in the sky crashes down past them — a flash of ruby red in its hollow sockets.
The first boss monster of the Vampire Lord’s castle has been created.
{Boss} ~ [Giant Skeleton] ~
A Giant Skeleton.
While its name seems rather simplistic, the description does little to provide context as to what this creature actually is. Standing as tall as a watchtower, this amalgamation of the bones of countless dead people and species is an exceedingly violent and brutal defender of the Vampire Lord’s castle.
Pieced together out of the merging and melting out of thousands of bodies, the giant skeleton is capable of changing its shape into a flood of bones that can fit into any tunnel and crevice, but prefers to stay in a leviathan recreation of a human skeleton made out of a jumble of endless broken and old bones.
Apart from its sheer might brought on by weight and force, the giant skeleton draws its power from its composition. The more bodies of unique type that are added to the Vampire Lord’s castle, the stronger this entity will become as it absorbs and makes use of their unique traits and capabilities.
Given the magical power required to maintain them, once a boss monster is defeated, it will take some time to respawn. This makes them exceptionally powerful but also dangerous to field.
Boss monsters are unique creations that will fight in dedicated phase patterns.
Phase 1, Titan Phase: The towering skeleton giant will focus on heavy, brute physical attacks, assisted by long-range low-intensity barrages from its supplementary growths. During this phase, it’s legs and ankles are weak spots.
Phase 2, Flood Phase: After taking sufficient damage, the skeleton giant will strategically collapse down into a pile of bones, spreading itself out flat and wide. Its supplementary mages and archers will rise up on dedicated bone pillars all around the arena with greatly increased damage.
Phase 3, Reconstruction Phase: The skeleton giant will begin to regrow into its original shape, adding any bones in the environment to its mass in order to repair any taken damage.
Secret Tactic: The skeleton giant can be weakened by introducing pre-readied, damaged bones to the arena. It will absorb these into its composition, offering potential high-damage vulnerabilities to any clever assailants. Type: Undead {Amalgamation} Rank: B- Common Drop: Enchanted Bone Fragments Rare Drop: Undead Lizard Pet