- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
The air is heavy in the tunnel, suffused with the musty scent of stone and the faint, unsettling odor of something left too long in the shadows. Flickering torchlight casts an eerie glow on the damp walls, revealing patches of moss that cling tenaciously to the ancient bricks. The cold seeps through the stone, biting into skin and bone alike — a chill that no mantle can fully ward off. Inkume, the Vampire Lord, strides purposefully through the gloom, his dark cloak whispering against his heels. He carries Agnis, the knight, cradled in his arms. Her ears twitch slightly inside the helmet as she adjusts herself, feigning discomfort.
He can only imagine that they’re all clumped and folded together inside of the helmet — her ears. It can’t be a comfortable matter.
Inkume glances at her. Despite the darkness, his eyes gleam with an unsettling light, reflecting the golden glow of the torches.
“You know,“ Agnis starts, breaking the silence with a firm voice that carries a hint of pride to itself. “ — I could have managed on my own. But I guess it's nice to have someone else strong around to help for a change.“
Inkume raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “Is that so?“ he replies, his voice smooth and rich. “Your ankle seemed quite troubled back there.“
She offers a nonchalant shrug, her eyes darting briefly to meet his before flicking away. “Well, sometimes it's good to let someone else take the weight,“ she admits, adding quietly, “Even if that someone is a vampire. Consider this a test to see if I need to put you down or not.“ Agnis shifts slightly, her ears fluttering with a restlessness that belies her calm facade. There is tension in the air.
“Scary,“ replies the Vampire Lord dryly as he looks around himself.
What is this place? Is this supposed to be here?
The tunnel — gnawed open by thousands of rats — stretches on, winding deeper into the bowels of the castle, like a hidden artery.
Rat-chewed and secret, the crooked walls bear the scars of time, etched with grime and mildew. Water drips slowly from the ceiling, leaking as they move past a wall that he assumes sits on the other side of the castle’s water channels that he has yet to explore.
The air is thick.
Agnis shifts her gaze to the flickering flame of a nearby torch, its light dancing across her helmet. “What's down here, do you think?“ she wonders aloud, her voice a murmur in the dark.
Inkume pauses, his head tilted as he listens to the silence. “Some esoteric nonsense if I had to guess,“ he muses. “Seems par for the course. You know. The usual. Giant monster. An ancient, horrific secret. Really, some pain in my ass is the usual result of these things,” explains the Vampire Lord, looking down a branch in the tunnels.
Agnis allows herself a small smile, a fleeting moment of levity amid the shadows. “You don’t know what’s below your own castle?” she asks.
Inkume looks at her, almost distraught, if not for the raging empty numbness this life has instilled in him up to this point regarding these matters. “Lady, I don’t know what happens in here half of the time, and plainly, I don’t want to,“ he promises, resuming his pace. “This whole damn place is a madhouse.” He shakes his head. “So what happens below it is, I would hope, not my problem,” he explains, sighing. “…I expect it will be, though.”
“You have a very blunt personality for a lord,” replies the knight.
Inkume raises an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah. I’m the Vampire Lord, but what does that even mean?” he asks dully, his eyes rising to the ceiling as he keeps walking. “There are like… three other vampires here in total who I just met. Otherwise, it’s just me. I’m more of a Ghost Lord, or maybe just a Spooky Castle Lord,” he muses. “Zombie Lord? No…” He muses. “What I’m getting at is that it’s really more of a ceremonial title than anything.”
She laughs.
The tunnel presses in around them, a living thing, like the rest of the castle. It breathes and presses in and out in a rather uncomfortable manner. The ridged edges of the stonework give him unflattering impressions of what he’s actually walking through, as if they were the bowels of a greater organism. Inkume's mind wanders as the metal armor of the knight Agnis rattles, nestled in the crook of his arm.
She exhales softly, a warm breath that mists in the chill air. “You know,“ she says, “I still don't trust you completely.“
“Is it the glowing red eyes?” he asks, his tone devoid of malice. “It’s the glowing red eyes, isn’t it?” Inkume glances down at her. “Anyway, big words for someone letting me carry them,” remarks the Vampire Lord.
“Test of your c-”
“- Test of your character. Got it, got it,” he replies, cutting her off as she repeats herself.
Their journey continues, marked by the steady beat of Inkume's footsteps and the quiet hum of Agnis' thoughts. The air grows colder, the darkness more profound. The scent of damp stone and stagnant water pressing in from all sides.
Their footsteps echo faintly, swallowed by the shadows that seem to stretch on forever, drawing them deeper into the castle's hidden heart.
They come upon a branching path, the tunnel opening into an expansive underground chamber — an unexpected hollow beneath the weight of stone. Water channels thread throughout, their surfaces glistening under the dim light of flickering torches that line the walls. The air is heavy with the metallic tang of moisture, mingled with the faintest hint of decay. A low hum permeates the space, like the distant murmur of voices or the pulse of some unseen force. The chamber looms vast and secretive, its stone walls slick with condensation and fungus. Streams of water snake through the room, converging in a pool at its center.
It’s runoff from the water channels.
The glow from stolen lanterns, crystals, and haphazardly strewn torches dances upon the surface, casting ripples of light that flicker and fade into the depths. Above, the ceiling arches high, its shadowed corners obscured in darkness — a cavernous vault.
They are not alone. Movement stirs the air — a rustling of fur and claws.
“You have finally come,” says a new voice, guttural and rough but high in pitch.
Yup. There it is. The inevitable thing that’s come to be a pain in his ass.
From the murky depths of the chamber emerges a monstrous force — a giant rat with nine heads, each turning in erratic, unsettling rhythms. The creature's eyes glimmer with madness, a deranged intelligence that cuts through the gloom with a feral intensity. “Too weak,” rasps one of the heads, its voice a harsh, chittering sound that echoes through the chamber. “Too weak to be the true master.” Another head sways, its beady eyes fixed on the cloaked figure. “Corrupted,” it hisses. “Your castle is tainted. Foul.”
There's a pause, a moment of silence broken only by the soft drip of water. The accusations hang heavy in the air, a challenge that demands a response. The cloaked figure steps forward, unperturbed by the creature's manic gaze.
“What in the name of Heaven is that?” asks Agnis as the two of them look at the dripping, sludge-covered rat hydra with nine tails, nine arms, and nine heads, but only one body.
After a moment of quiet staring, Inkume turns his head down to look at Agnis again. “See?” he asks. “I told you,” explains the Vampire Lord dryly and without much emotion. “It’s always like this here,” he sighs, as if more tired than impressed.
The rats’ heads shift, snapping at one another with frenetic energy. “We are the guardians,“ they proclaim, voices overlapping in a discordant chorus. “Sentinels of the hidden paths. The King. Yes,” says one of the heads, but another one snaps at it angrily. “The king!” says the second head before a third one snaps at it, and they begin hissing amongst themselves, each more eager than the last to claim the title as its own, despite them sharing a body.
~ [{Secret Boss} The Rat King] ~
The Rat King.
Master of all rats, the rat king is a horrific amalgamation of flesh and gnawing teeth created by the powers of a mess of rats fused together by toxic magical runoff from the Vampire Lord’s castle, pushed through the veins of the world by its many water systems.
It claims to be the king of all rats and will fight ferociously to defend its title and honor, despite its appearance as a grotesque monstrosity.
Type: Beast {Mutant} Rank: S- Common Drop: Knotted Giant Rat’s Tail Rare Drop: The Rat King’s Crown
The figure regards them with a calm that belies the tension of the moment. Thoughts flicker through the mind, weighing the weight of the words against the reality of the situation.
“Hey,” says Inkume plainly. “Vampire Lord. Nice to meet you,” he says, looking up at the towering, shaggy mess of knotted fur and claws, adorned with a crown that is made out of shards of its own broken teeth. He looks around himself, staring at a puddle of sludge that a stolen skeleton’s skull drifts through and… some of his own socks? “Looks like you’re doing a good job. Keep up the fine work,” he says, looking back at the massive thing that was perhaps once a rat — or several.
The air is charged with the potential for conflict, the electric anticipation of what might come next.
The rat-king's heads turn in unison, a grotesque ballet of motion. “You do not understand, false lord,” they insist, voices rising. “You will be the death of us all,” it says.
“Heard that one before,” he remarks. “Hey, is this gonna be a thing?” asks Inkume. “Because I really don’t want it to be a thing, you know?” He tilts his head. “Can we just skip the vague cryptic nonsense and you tell me why I have a secret hive of rat tunnels below my castle?”
The figure stands firm. The creature hesitates, eyes flitting between the pair. There's a moment of stillness. Its fur bristles. “A fool,” hisses one voice. “It would be suicide to follow him,” says another one. “The death of many rats,” says another. “— Of all rats,” adds the next, as they communicate amongst themselves, becoming more and more agitated.
“I can hear you, you know,” mutters Inkume.
Agnis shifts in his arms, her gaze flicking. “I think this is going to escalate,” she says, nodding her head.
“I appreciate someone who doesn’t use non-descript prophecies as their primary form of communication,” remarks the Vampire Lord, setting her down. “Oh, would you look at that?” he remarks as she stands on her ankle, which seems to be perfectly fine. “The all-powerful Vampire Lord does it again.”
The knight hits him with her elbow.
The rat-king's heads bob and weave, a monstrous hydra of fur and fangs caught in the throes of its own insanity. “We have been watching and waiting for a long time,“ the heads declare, a promise and a threat entwined. “My children love you,” says a head. “Our children,” corrects another. “But I do not,” says one. “We do not,” adds another. The giant thing bears down over them, Agnis’ hand resting on her sword. “Many rats fight to become the king,” says the one in the middle. “Worthy,” says another one to the left, lifting its head in pride. “But you have fought nothing to become Lord of this castle,” it says. “Weak,” hisses another. “Weak rats make bad tunnels that collapse.”
The figure's eyes gleam with determination, a silent promise of resolve. The many smaller rats alongside the chamber watch, and the castle itself is a witness to the unfolding drama.
“So… you wanna duke it out?” asks Inkume, hoping this isn’t the case. He just had to deal with that naga a week ago, and now this? He didn’t know there were so many insubordinate stragglers in his own rank and file.
Being the Vampire Lord really isn’t as glamorous as it sounds. It’s a lot of middle management and handling social infighting. He’s more of the Vampire Middle Manager than anything.
But he definitely isn’t going to seduce this thing, like the naga. Sorry, Matthew — hallow be his name — but he’s out this time.
Besides, Agnis is cool. He doesn’t want to look like a rat kisser in front of the knight.
The chamber vibrates with a sinister energy, the air suddenly alive with a tension that prickles against the skin. The rat-king's laughter fills the space — a cacophony of voices that echoes off the stone walls, mocking and triumphant. The creature's nine heads writhe in a grotesque dance, each voice overlapping the other. “And so you prove yourself to be an imposter,” it hisses with one head. “A true king has soldiers to fight for him,” the central head sneers, its eyes gleaming with a malevolent light. “My rats have been busy, gnawing through the castle's veins, creating paths for those who seek your end,” it explains.
“Uh… huh,” replies Inkume, still not sure what’s happening.
Agnis has her sword drawn, her back against him as she scans the room, her eyes jumping from one hole to the next in the walls — the rat tunnels.
There are dozens of them, leading all around the castle.
There's a rumble beneath the floor, a deep growl that builds and crescendos into a roar. All around the chamber, the hidden passageways burst open, spilling bodies into the space like a flood.
It isn’t rats.
It’s people — adventurers from all around the castle.
Humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, and fairies — each one armed and eager, their eyes alight with the promise of treasure and the thrill of the hunt.
“It’s him!” calls a voice, lifting their head after flopping out of a tunnel.
“The Vampire Lord!” calls an excited wizard, pointing their way, the bauble on her staff bouncing around as she shakes it excitedly.
“No way!” comes a cry from the nearby crowd.
Inkume looks around himself, taken aback as his eyes land on one person after the next, dusting themselves off as they enter the room via the rat tunnels and see the commotion.
This place, the rat tunnels — It was a trap.
The giant rat laughs, diving back into the water as all the rats along the edge scurry away into hiding as adventurers stream down the many tunnels all around the room. Inkume grabs the edge of his cloak, lifting it up to get the two of them out of there by warping them to the treasury.
— Or he would, if his fingers had anything to grab onto.
A pair of rats, having undone the fastenings in secret, scurry away with the black fabric.
The cloaked figure stands amidst the chaos, unflinching. There's a moment, a heartbeat of stillness, where resolve hardens into something unbreakable. The eyes are dark, filled with a calm fury that promises retribution. Beside him, the companion draws a sword, the blade singing as it slices through the air.
“Nice shoulders,“ Agnis observes, voice edged with grim humor. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen them before,” she remarks, glancing over toward his dress shirt.
The figure nods, a silent acknowledgment that speaks of shared resolve. “Thanks. I got them for free,” he replies, looking around them.
This is bad.
The adventurers hesitate, forming a loose semicircle around the pair. There's confusion in their ranks — whispers of doubt amid the clamor, uncertainty that tempers their aggression. But the sight of the cloaked figure galvanizes them, a rallying point for their shared purpose — to get filthy rich and powerful.
If killing a boss monster in this place is lucrative, then killing the dungeon core, the Vampire Lord, will mean bountiful riches for whoever does the job.
Of course, the dungeon itself would then be destroyed and inert, rendering it useless as a place of wealth generation. But for the one who got the final treasure of such a place, that thought matters very little, and currently everyone here in this room thinks they’re about to be that person.
“That's really him!“ shouts an orc, his voice a booming war cry. “The Vampire Lord!” he says, holding up a drawn poster from the village showing a ridiculously handsome man with a chin like mooncut steel.
Very flattering.
“But why is he hot?” asks a wizard from the side, a few others nodding in silent agreement.
A necromancer runs out of the crowd, waving their arms only for their party to pull them back. “Please step on me, dark lord!” cries the desperately sweaty caster, getting thrown back behind the line.
Inkume doesn’t respond to that. It wouldn't be befitting of his image.
The title of his throne nonetheless hangs heavy in the air, a mantle of power and fear. The adventurers press forward, their weapons gleaming menacingly in the dim light.
Well, shit. Inkume looks around himself. He’s stuck here now. He could transform into a bat or something and fly off by himself, but he can’t just ditch Agnis to get hacked to pieces, as she — standing next to him — has likely been associated by the intruders as some castle insider or minion. That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him, and it would also be disastrous for his image.
He doubts Matthew’s teachings will help him against this many people at once, so maybe he’ll have to be someone else instead tonight — the evil Vampire Lord.
— But not too evil. Agnis is watching, after all.
So he’ll be the… smarmy, lukewarm, pleasantly threatening Vampire Lord instead.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Stepping in front of Agnis, Inkume holds out his arm, loosely unsheathing his black rapier from his belt as if he were unbothered by the intruders. “Welcome, dear guests, to my home,” says the Vampire Lord, his voice rising above the crowd that falls silent in an instant as he speaks. Some fifty to a hundred boots stand still for a moment, all eyes on him as he steps up onto a stone, presenting himself to the crowd. A subtle, ever-present breeze immaculately blows through his hair and shirt, a wayward sparkle of fairy light glistening past his eyes as he looks over the adventurers. He flourishes with his free hand, bowing slightly toward them in formal greeting. “I am pleased to make your acquaintances, but you’ve come at an inopportune time for me.” His eyes wander over to a smaller crowd. He winks. A few faces turn red and look away. “If you’ll come back to see me in my throneroom later, I’ll offer you a proper welcome to the castle.”
The necromancer in the back of the crowd jumps around, wildly waving their arms and screaming like they’re at a concert.
An adventurer nonetheless steps forward, making a choice as the first of the group. Inkume’s sword points his way.
“But if you insist, then know that you’ll die tonight,” warns the Vampire Lord, before the man’s other boot sets itself down fully, the tips of his toes still up in the air.
The two of them stare at each other from across a pace of ten steps’ distance.
The room is quiet as everyone watches.
“…Don’t,” warns Inkume in a stern tone.
The adventurer’s boot sets itself down toward him and then doesn’t take a single step more as the ground below him explodes apart, rocks and dirt flying in all directions. The silhouette of the encroacher vanishes, replaced by a block of solid stone that slams shut as the doors of the Vampire Lord’s sarcophegous slam shut around him.
Inkume has used: [Summon Sarcophegous]
The deeply resounding hammering clap of the stone against stone acts like a signal bell, and in an instant, dozens of bodies spring into motion.
The battle ignites with a violent grace, a dance of magic and metal that fills the chamber with light and sound. Immediately, a barrage of spells of many schools of magic fly his way, weaving through a wash of arrows.
Inkume has used: [Animate Minor Object]
All around him from the murky water, broken shards of mirror glass and old frames appear in an instant, floating in the air like a maze of ghost-held shields in the path of every projectile. The mirror glass absorbs some of it, and others bounce the spells back toward the intruders, blasting their immediate line apart into a chaotic mess.
Agnis moves with fluid grace, the sword a blur as it catches the edge of an axe swung straight toward his chest. The knight doesn’t need more than a second to disarm the man with a riposite before her knee strikes into his gut and sends him spiraling through the muck.
“Watch your back!“ she shouts, deflecting the blow.
A fairy darts in from behind, her wings a blur of color. She aims a hand at him, magic crackling at her fingertips. “Die, foul creature!“ she cries, unleashing a bolt of energy.
His eyes flash wide and crimson. “Go, home,” says the Vampire Lord, staring into her eyes as the magic still cracks around her hand.
Inkume has used: [Beastfather]
The readied spell fizzles out. The fairy stops, almost freezing in place. “…I will go home…” she says in an almost monotone voice before turning around with glazed eyes and flying away as if nothing had happened.
Interesting?
Oh wait. Of course! He has the passive ability to command all beasts. Obviously, if one considers people to be animals — like he does — then this quirky-yet-moderately-useful-at-best-ability applies to them as well, becoming instead an exceptionally powerful tool of control over the feebleminded mortal wretches of this world.
…Wait…
He doesn’t think that?
Inkume stares blankly for a moment too long as he tries to dispel that weird notion. The air is charged with power, a storm of energy that crackles and seethes. The adventurers press forward, their assault unrelenting. Swords clash against shadows; spells shatter the air with bursts of light. The noise is deafening — a roar that drowns out thought and reason.
He snaps out of it and twists his hand.
Inkume has used: [Castle Manipulation]
The floor of the castle twists, turning in and around on itself as it spirals together like a wet towel being wrung out by a strong grip. People fly, losing their footing and crashing into each other as the castle’s stone entrails weave in and around themselves to create a mess of the arena.
“Hey!” says Agnis, calling to him. “Cover me!” she calls urgently. “I need a second!”
Inkume looks at her and then nods, his black rapier making contact with the metal of an adventurer’s longsword — the first man to ever fight the Vampire Lord in person.
— His name isn’t relevant, because an instant later, a pair of ghostly hands snatch him from behind and make him vanish.
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- [Agnis, the Knight] -
In the midst of the chaos, Agnis finds a moment's respite. She edges away from the fray, her heart pounding in her chest.
She wasn’t paying attention.
There's a weight that presses upon her — something greater than the immediate threat of blades and spells. It's an unseen force, a malevolent presence that gnaws at the edge of her consciousness. She fumbles for the small pouch at her belt, fingers trembling as she quickly retrieves a bundle of incense. Her eyes dart over, watching as the Vampire Lord holds off a group of adventurers. He’s a great duelist, from the looks of it.
One would expect as much, given that he had an eternity to practice the blade.
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- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
He has no fucking idea what he’s doing. What the shit?
Inkume parries a second man, easily — as if it were a joke — dodging out of the way of an axe that swipes past him from the side, a playfully amused smile on his face as if he were playing a game with some children.
[Dude, Hold my Blood] Passive Ability • In order to preserve your immaculate appearance in front of others so that they know their place at your feet, you will never lose an honorable duel when watched by an admirer, unless doing so would make you look even better in their eyes.
His eyes twitch.
God help him if Agnis has a thing for dramatic death scenes.
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- [Agnis, the Knight] -
It's a ritual she's rehearsed countless times, a protective charm meant to guard against the thing that has haunted her since she was a girl — a creature, a terror.
The incense, Weihrauch, is fragrant, a sweet balm that cuts through the stench of battle. For a moment, there's calm — a quiet space amid the storm as the vapors rise up to her helmet and she inhales, letting out a long sigh of relief.
That was close. She almost lost track of time there for a moment. She has to do this twice a day, or else.
But the reprieve is short-lived.
A spell explodes nearby, a burst of arcane power that sends her flying. The world tilts crazily, a blur of stone and shadow as she crashes to the ground, tumbling and her armor battering in against the stonework as she splashes into the water.
The bottle of incense scatters, its soothing scent swallowed by the acrid smoke and dust that fills the air
Her ritual is undone.
She gasps, struggling to regain her breath, her vision swimming with sparks of light as she struggles to rise up, but her armor is too heavy. The muffled noise of the battle rushes back in — an overwhelming tide of sound that threatens to drown her.
She chokes, gasping for breath underneath the black water.
A hand reaches down, grabbing her through the surface of the water. It grabs a hold of her heavy chestplate’s rim, and a second later, she finds herself being hoisted up. The knight splutters out a lungful of water, dazed.
“Are you okay?” asks a concerned voice. Confused, not sure where she is, Agnis, in a daze, looks around herself.
She’s on the water.
They’re on the water.
The knight looks at the Vampire Lord, who has her in his arms again like before, his shoes standing on the black lake as if it were solid ground. “Devilry,” she says. “How?”
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- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
The truth is his socks can’t get wet because of that ability he got a week or so ago.
What that means in practice is, well, that his socks can’t get wet. The only way to avoid this happening is that he literally can’t step into any water. The magical force of the passive ability is keeping him up over its top.
He thought he was retired, but somehow life keeps putting this nonsense his way.
But he can’t tell her that.
This one is all yours, Matthew.
Inkume narrows his eyes, rising to his feet. “For the people I must protect, nothing is impossible for me.”
Behind them, the crowd murmurs.
“Is this phase two? Did someone hit him?” asks a man, as the adventuring raid party looks at themselves confused — as if this were some standard mechanical boss battle.
A man raises his hand. “I hit him!” he calls out.
“You did not,” chimes in a wizard to the side, annoyed.
Suddenly, a blur comes from in his grasp as Agnis jolts together. “MY INCENSE!” calls the knight, abruptly trying to escape as she looks around in panic through the smoke and the mess, her eyes eventually landing on the water below them. In a hurry, she pats herself down, tearing at her armor to try and find a scrap of anything left. She looks at him, grabbing his collar. “Inkume! I need my incense!” shouts the woman, her eyes wide and frantic in a way he’s never seen of the cool-headed knight.
“Why?” he asks. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You don’t understand!” she yells, her voice overpowering the adventurers as the castle around them starts shaking, rumbling, and quaking — not of its own power, but because of that of a thing that comes from far away.
— A thing that will find her.
“Listen to me. You need to get everyone out of here. Now,” says the knight.
She turns her head, screaming at the crowd. “GET OUT OF HERE!” yells Agnis at the top of her voice.
But nobody listens.
They just think that this is a part of the in-built Vampire Lord’s Castle experience.
It is not.
“PHASE TWO!” calls out a man as the adventuring parties form together, preparing themselves for a greater stage of the fight that they think is coming.
----------------------------------------
- [Agnis, The Knight] -
There are things in this world that are… different.
In this world, there are people. There are animals, monsters, and creatures. Within the spectrum of these many different forms of life and even undeath, there are so many different variations of the concept of an entity that, even for the scholars of the world, it becomes hard to define exactly what makes up a being. Their origins are muddy and complicated in some cases and quite straight forward and simple in others.
People come from people, and so on.
However, sometimes in the history of this world, things fluctuate. They say that this world is constantly changed and altered. Every few hundred years, the gods seem to completely overhaul the way things work. Crises come and go every hundred years, as if to constantly remind the living that they are always on the edge of the abyss.
And one thousand years ago, the world came closer to the edge of eternal darkness than ever before, during the era of the great and horrific Demon King.
People make people.
Monsters make monsters.
And the Demon-King made something else — he made… things. These things do not fit into the conventional categories defined and understood by the living of this world. They were horrific things that the living, even in their deepest nightmares, could never really understand because of the sheer horror and gore involved in their ambulations upon the world.
In that day and age, these special creations were called Terrors.
After the Demon-King’s defeat, most of the terrors would be wiped out by the magical cascade of his fall. Others were hunted and purged from this good world.
And to this day, they say — officially — that every last one of them had been cleansed centuries ago.
That’s the official stance of all nations and institutions worldwide.
But Agnis knows of at least one that remains — and she suspects there are others still too that hide and wait for the return of the darkest of nights, when they may once again prowl and roam the surface of the world in their endless, wild hunt.
As for the one — it found her when she was a girl, and she only escaped it by pure happenstance, or as she would later define it, divine intervention. That brought her to the church and to her protection — the weihrauch. It was the only thing that could keep her safe from a thing that obsesses.
That was her great misfortune. Other terrors would lose interest and simply chase the next prey on their way.
But she encountered one that wanted nothing else except her — forever.
Ever since that day, every since that moment it first laid eyes on her, it wanted. It does not have a name.
It is simply a Thing that Hunts.
And now that the incense has faded, even for a second, that is enough for it to find her. Perhaps it was still halfway across the world, where she left it back then, just waiting. Perhaps it was wandering and skulking, tracking her footprints and shadow for years and years. Perhaps it was always just next to her, but never quite there where she was. But now, it is here.
The lake behind them erupts, exploding as a mass bursts out from below — the screaming Rat King impaled on its head.
----------------------------------------
- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
…The fuck is that?
Inkume, standing there on the water, lifts his head and looks up behind him at the towering monstrosity.
----------------------------------------
- [An Adventurer] -
Hell fills the air as panic breaks out.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!” screams a man.
Summoned Entity A Thing That Hunts
With legs like those of ancient beasts,
And long teeth of shards and thorns,
A Thing That Hunts comes through the night,
Its crown with prize — adorned,
Ten thousand screaming faces, and ten thousand screaming more,
Beckon on the hunter’s call to start a game, majeure,
For once the note is blazen,
And once the flag is flung,
The Thing that Hunts has chosen,
— You.
And you should run.
RANK: SSS+ Category: Entity Level: ??? Classification: Terror* Element: DARK *Terror-Type entities are monstrous beings that defy classification within the normed schools of monsterdom.
The thing is giant, standing up high to the cavernous ceiling on a sea of legs — not like a spider’s, but rather many knuckled and jointed like those of a degenerated horse. Except there are far too many of them, twisting in and around themselves for lack of space like the clustered tendrils of a sagging mold. A drape of flesh covers its upper exterior, as if it were a saddle blanket, made out of skin folds. Protruding from its front and hanging down over the world below is something that might be a human in mockery at best, but in reality is only vaguely adjacent to the shape of one as it hangs over forward, its long arms holding its head in place — as the latter is not attached to the neck.
A cracking fills the air as its joints move and its head disconnects, the arms reaching to its side and pulling off a different one — that of a beast — and holds it in place instead at the base of its stump, clotted neck.
The eyes look down at the world below it.
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- [Vampire Lord Inkume] -
Hey. Fuuuck that.
Inkume has already left, knowing to take a hint. Being the evil Vampire Lord is one matter, but ancient hydraulic-press-flattened spider centaurs with a collection of giant’s heads is beyond his paygrade.
He just works here, after all.
Thankfully, the adventurers are distracted by, well, you know, the thing. Agnis is essentially catatonic, which is great because he’d be worried about looking lame in front of her. But she seems to have fallen into a hyperventilating daze.
— Behind them, a fight breaks out as adventurers continue flooding into the tunnels from above, pouring into the arena as a grand fight begins.
Standing in the shadows of a raised alcove on the edge of the arena, Inkume looks back over his shoulder as some easily forty to fifty adventurers of varying levels scramble. The titanous thing, the creature, roars.
— At least the one head that looks like a lion’s does. The others are just mutely quiet, all of their glassy, fogged-over eyes staring their way from afar. It tries to move toward them but is blasted back by a barrage of spells.
The fools. The adventurers think that this is just some castle boss battle like any other.
Next to him, Agnis stirs. “Where…?” she sits upright, letting out a sharp scream as she sees the creature. Inkume holds her back.
“Easy,” says the Vampire Lord. “Take it easy.”
Great. Now he has to play this off without looking like a dweeb. He just didn’t want to be caught in the middle of that mess. Is that so wrong?
— The creature tramples a dozen people, swiping out to pick up a man and pluck off his head for its collection. Yeesh.
“We need to help them!” says Agnis immediately, rising to her shaking legs, her hand on her sword.
It’s random bullshit time.
“No,” says Inkume, casting his arm out to the side in dramatic fashion, blocking her from going on forward. He turns his head, looking at her. “Agnis, why do you think I brought you here?” asks the Vampire Lord.
She looks at him, confused. “What? What are you talking about? It was a completely random -”
“— Nothing in my castle is by chance!” declares Inkume, cutting her off as he holds out his arms. "I brought you here to both expel a rebel from my kingdom and to teach you a lesson."
By good fortune, a massive explosion rocks the castle as several mages combine their efforts by collecting their magic together into a singular, massive, channeled blast against the entity. “Look at them. What do you see?” asks the Vampire Lord, staring down over the battle as the titan lashes out with the body of the killed rat king that it tears off of its own head and uses as a whip. The arc of the swing tears the monster’s body apart in a rain of gore as it lashes out once against a crowd.
“People who need our help!” she says. He puts a hand on her shoulder.
“They seem fine to me,” replies the Vampire Lord, as the dust settles and a new wave of magic comes lashing out from the crowd as the assault continues. Agnis stares, confused and lost. “Your soul desires to protect others because of the fear you were running from,” he says, his hand knocking on her armor. “So you worked to become strong. But Agnis,” says the Vampire Lord, narrowing his eyes as she looks over to him. He points an accusing finger at her. “You are the weakest person in this castle!” declares the Master of the dark lands.
Agnis, shocked, takes a step back. “Wh- what?”
“— Because you can’t see it,” says Inkume, folding his hands behind his back as the light of an explosion casts shadows over his face. “Just like the old Vampire Lord couldn’t see it.”
A horrifying scream fills the air as the combined magical blast from the raid party — who seem to be confused as to the nature of what they’re fighting — presses on against the body of the melting titan.
“See what?” she asks.
His ruby eyes turn away, his torso following as he flicks a finger through the air. A second later, Snatch appears, pinning his lost cloak back onto his shoulders as he walks away. “Look how easily they’re solving your problem. It doesn’t matter how strong you are,” explains Inkume, stopping to look back over his shoulder at her. “Because you’ll never be as strong alone as good people together.”
Inkume lifts a hand over his shoulder to wave her off as he strides away with Snatch billowing his cloak for him to make it look better. Just in that second, as if timed by fate itself, the spell pierces through the heart of the terrible beast and then through the back of the castle wall. A blinding light fills the chamber, the drone of it overpowering the scream of an ancient entity that vaporizes away into a flashing ball of smoldering light as its body crumbles and falls apart into an ashen heap. The underground stone wall behind it melts, superheated rock dripping down and hissing as it hits the water.
A loud, thunderous cheer comes through the crowd as people go wild.
Above them, a mirror appears, and from it suddenly floods out a bounty of golden coins and jewels, magical items, and… socks?
The castle’s treasury is emptied out as a prize for the conquerors, whom he owed for solving Agnis’ lifelong problem in a minute flat.
They think they defeated a secret boss in the castle after an exciting encounter with the Vampire Lord himself, but in reality, they’ve done him a huge favor. Agnis thinks he set this entire spectacle up in order to teach her a lesson about the power of being able to ask others for help with a problem instead of just trying to out-brute it.
But in reality, he just looked super cool just now.
Nailed it.
The Vampire Lord, successful as always, retires for the night.