- [The Vampire Lord Inkume] -
The night devours the world once again, casting it into darkness as the stars hang overhead. They shine like the eyes of an infinite spider, looming over everything and everyone thereunder in preparation for a grim feast to come. The waxing half moon floats in the midnight sky, larger than usual tonight, and provides what little glow that it might have left to share with the people of the world.
His black hair and mantle billow behind the Vampire Lord as he stands out on a precariously half-crumbled stone balcony and stares out into the world beyond.
[{Destroyed} The Outer Ramparts]
{Skeleton Archer Spawning Zone} A piece of the castle’s outer fortifications. These extended platforms and surfaces were once the points on which defenders would overlook key areas of the castle.
Room Effects if Reactivated:
• Increases the spawn chance of [Skeleton Archer]s by {50}%!
The room is inactive; the castle is destroyed. No monsters are currently spawning here.
It’s a new world, an exciting one. Magic exists here, and so do monsters, ghosts, and spirits. It’s a world of adventurers and dragons, of beasts and guilds, dungeons and gold, and elves and other things like them — it’s bound to be an astounding place that he would really like to see more of.
— From the comfort of his castle, through reading, without ever actually leaving this place because that is a lot more adventure than he’s interested in, being a homebody.
Inkume wants the library to be rebuilt.
And for that to happen, he needs the magical castle to begin to reconstruct itself. This ancient ruin was once the lair of the old Vampire Lord, some thousand years ago. However, he was vanquished by a great hero. The castle fell into ruin and rubble year after year as the last of his fading magic disappeared, leaving only odd whispers floating through the crooked graveyard below its shattered towers.
Now that he’s been reborn here, the castle is slowly coming back to life. But despite the ghouls starting to rise from the dank forests and the eager murmurs coming from behind shadowy curtains, despite the ghosts drifting from changing corridor to changing corridor, the castle is still slumbering dormant.
It’s alive again, but it isn’t awake. All of these manifestations are but its stirring from within a consuming nightmare.
He needs to reactivate it.
He needs blood.
[Castle Keeper] Passive
• You are a dungeon core, the heart of a dungeon. Your castle is your dungeon. The stronger you become, the stronger your castle becomes. Continue to feed on blood in order for both you and it to grow.
“When will we begin, Master?” asks a curious voice, floating next to him in midair. “— The ritual,” she says, referring to his grand universe-assigned quest to complete an ancient spell that will banish the sun forever and turn the world into an endlessly dark nightmare world ruled over by beasts and monsters.
Inkume lifts a hand. “Yes… about that,” says the Vampire Lord. He presses the tips of his fingers together. “We’re not going to be doing that,” notes Inkume rather plainly, as if explaining a new business decision to an account.
He knows how these stories go. The big-bad villain begins some end-of-the-world apocalypse, and all of a sudden heroes from all around the planet come to end him and save the day — this time literally — before it’s too late. No, thank you. That’s not the plan here anymore. He’s not going to die a second time. Who knows what his next reincarnation might be? This could be the top of the heap. Vampire Lord? That’s pretty good. Next time he might end up as a worm or… a civil servant, or worse, a teacher.
The Vampire Lord shudders.
No. He’s going to be keeping this new life for a long, long time. It’s all downhill from here, so he’ll be milking it like it’s a nice, big, fat, swollen, and happy cow.
“But… but the old Master…” she starts. “— his prophecy. It is your quest to undertake, Master,” explains Snatch. “You must bring about the end of all light,” she explains, hovering closer toward him, her panting audible in his ear.
The Vampire Lord shrugs. “Eeeh…” he starts, raising and lowering his hands as if they were a scale rebalancing itself. “What happens if I just don’t?” asks Inkume, looking at the ghost.
She opens her wide mouth, lifting a finger to explain something and then stops. “I… uh…” Snatch looks around the area for a while, thinking. “It’s… it’s a prophecy,” she mutters. “It’ll happen by itself, even if you try to stop it. That’s how fate works, Master.”
Inkume points at her, his finger pressing against and then through her forehead. She crosses her eyes, looking up at the digit, gnashing with her teeth a little. “So what you’re saying is that there’s no reason for me to rush myself?”
“That’s… I mean… yes, Master,” remarks Snatch, rubbing the back of her head as she thinks about the logic involved. “If that is what you wish?”
She seems confused.
But, after all, if it really is a prophecy that this ritual is going to be completed, then it will come to pass all by itself no matter what one day, right? So it doesn’t actually matter if he forces it into place now or if it just starts happening by itself in another odd few thousand years or so — whenever fate is ready for it.
Inkume dusts his hands of the matter. “It’s not my problem,” says the Vampire Lord. “If the old Vampire Lord knew what he was doing, he wouldn’t be dead, would he?” asks Inkume.
He thinks it’s a fair question, really.
Snatch looks around, as if terrified that someone had heard him say that.
“But I will fix this old place up a little, I think, if we’ll be stuck here for eternity and all,” he explains, looking back at the castle behind them. Snatch nods excitedly, seemingly happy he’s engaging in at least something vaguely Vampire Lordy. “You said it needs blood?” he asks. She continues to nod feverishly. “How much?”
“Enough to paint every brick and fill every basin,” explains Snatch.
“…Ah…” That’s a lot of blood. Maybe it’s a bad look. He winces with one eye, looking at her. “Let’s go to the treasury,” says Inkume, the fabric of his clothes flowing behind him as he walks off down the way, only realizing halfway there that he’s strutting like he’s on a catwalk with one foot directly in front of the other.
A heavily breathing ghost follows him, giggling like a jackal on the prowl.
Damn this new body.
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Inkume grabs the treasury door, opening it wide.
The heavy, iron-studded thing creaks and groans as it lumbers open with great difficulty, revealing a grand chamber full of rocks.
[{Destroyed} Castle Treasury]
{Mimic Spawning Zone} The castle’s secure treasury room used to house its and your most valuable possessions. Like a stomach, the treasury will expand automatically depending on how much is stored in it. However, the castle has starved for so long that it has shrunk to little more than what you see now.
Room Effects if Reactivated:
• Defeated adventurers’ valuables, collected by the castle, are stored here.
The room is inactive; the castle is destroyed. No monsters are currently spawning here.
— A squeaking rat runs out, escaping through his legs. Snatch lets out a snarl, turning to chase after it. But she doesn’t get far before Inkume grabs her, pulling her back. “Snatch,” says Inkume, looking around the empty room that doesn’t even have cobwebs in it. “Where is all the gold?” he asks, looking at her. “We have gold, right?”
Snatch, panting, looks after the rat and then back at him. She shakes her head. “The old gold was stolen after the old master was killed.”
His eye twitches.
“Gems? Rare metals? Magical items?” he asks and she keeps shaking her head. They don’t have anything except the castle. This is bad. He’s… He’s… HOUSE-POOR. He’s been reincarnated into a lower middle-class lifestyle. Oh God.
Inkume hisses through his teeth, clenched as tightly as his fists. “Do we have anything here at all?” he asks. “Any treasures of value anywhere?” asks the Vampire Lord, looking at the spirit.
She pants heavily, looking around the area, and then gets an idea, gesturing for him to wait. “Yes, yes!” says Snatch quickly in growing breathy excitement before she pops out of existence.
…Oh, thank the heavens.
Inkume sighs in relief. He was terrified there for a second. The old castle being a pile of crap is one issue, his powers being a little iffy and pseudo-useful at best is another matter, but if they have a little money, he can fix all of this. No biggie. He just needs something to trade to the villagers to buy a few animals and maybe a few favors from some local craftsman, and then by the end of this week, this whole mess will be right as rain.
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He stands back upright.
Maybe it’s all not that bad after all? He just had a momentary lapse of weakness there.
[Cold Hearted] Passive
• The longer you remain undead, the colder your composure becomes regarding matters you would have once found shocking or of emotional note while alive.
Snatch pops back into existence, holding something behind her melting back. It’s metal and square. He can tell because she’s translucent in many places. The ghost looks at him feverishly, panting heavier and heavier as she struggles to breathe because she’s just too excited. If Snatch had a heart, he’s sure he could see it about to burst out through her chest. “We… we…” she says, trying to string together a sentence, but she’s too giddy and is nearly wheezing at this point, unable to get past the start of her explanation. Her legs twist together tightly below her, wrapping around one another in a boneless spiral until it looks like she just has a single, long, wispy tail as a lower half.
Snatch holds out the bronze mirror from behind her back. A spider web of cracks runs through it. It was broken, but somebody put all the pieces back in and stuck them with some sort of paste to the back of the frame. She holds it up toward him. “Master is the greatest treasure of them all!”
It’s quiet, apart from her heavy breathing.
Inkume stares dryly, looking at the glass in which he can’t even see his own reflection, and then stares back up at the wide, googly eyes of the dripping, sweaty ghost that leers at him from just above the back of the mirror frame she’s peeking over.
Inkume opens his mouth to speak as he places his palms and fingers together in front of himself. At first only a sort of tsk comes from him as he begins to want to voice his obvious disappointment, but then he finds some other words, looking at her glowing face. He just doesn’t have it in him. “…Thank you, Snatch,” says the Vampire Lord dryly before angling them lightly to point her way. “But do we have anything of monetary value, though?”
She quietly shakes her head, her breathing slowing. “Do you want me to catch you a rat again?” asks the ghost.
Inkume ponders the logistics for a moment. How many rats would it take to paint a castle’s worth of bricks with their blood? He probably doesn't have enough.
No, no, that’s silly.
Well. There’s nothing else to it. He’s just going to have to maybe ask for a favor from the villagers as is. Surely saving the priestess’ life is a fair trade for, like, a cup of sheep’s blood? That seems like a low-ball request. But he’ll start from there until they establish a little back and forth with each other.
What a mess.
The Vampire Lord holds his face in his hand as he walks off, muttering to himself.
“Master?” calls a voice after him, Snatch floating in pursuit. “May… May…” she starts, gasping in his ear as she comes too close for comfort again. “May I make a suggestion?” she asks in a tone that suggests that she knows that this is an absurd thing to say. He stops, willing to listen.
“Please,” says Inkume
She covers her eyes, seemingly surprised at this being accepted. It seems she didn’t get to give much input in the past. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t simply eat the people of the village yourself, like the old master did?” she explains, starting to melt. “But perhaps you… perhaps you…” she wheezes, getting excited again. “— Perhaps you could bring them wolves instead? The wolves will do it. Snatch will… Snatch will get them for you,” she offers, smudging her face against the metal frame in embarrassment. “— Anything for Master.”
…‘Wolves’?
“Of course!” remarks the Vampire Lord, hitting his fist into his palm. The wolves!
The forest is full of monsters and dangerous wild animals, like the wolves that almost ate Azalea, the priestess. He has some moral issues about killing innocent humans — that seems fair to have for someone who was literally a human only just the day before yesterday. But dangerous wild monsters? That’s fair game.
“Will you do that for me? Is that safe?” he asks, and she feverishly nods, her yellow eyes widening massively in excitement about being asked to do something. “Then that’s perfect! We can get all the money and blood we need this way!” he says, finding the solution surprisingly effective.
He has an entire legion of spirits and undead at his behest. Why not put them to work? If she can get a bunch of wolf pelts for him, he’ll trade those. This seems like a low-tech fantasy world. Animal pelts are surely always needed and of value. As for Snatch, well, Snatch is a ghost. She probably has all sorts of magic he doesn’t understand yet. Given that she’s an ancient spirit, there’s probably some powerful stuff there. So he’ll take her up on her offer to clear the forest out of dangerous things, making it safe for the villagers who live next to it! They’ll love him for it! Plus, he can have his undead minions gather all sorts of things in the forest, like, uh, more wolf pelts, and… — he isn’t sure — slime goo… or… you know, harpy feathers and stuff like that. Herbs? Whatever. Magical forest stuff.
Excited, Inkume reaches out, spinning the mirror in her hands back to face her instead. “You’re the real treasure, Snatch! Great idea!” he calls excitedly, running down the way and turning into a bat. “— I’m counting on you!” adds the Vampire Lord, leaving in a hurry. He has to go to the village now, or he risks getting stuck outside during sunrise, and he still has to skim through a few pages of his book to figure out what he’s actually supposed to do there to smooth this mess out.
But this is good news!
By tomorrow night, he’ll be kicking his feet up in his freshly rebuilt library and reading his first book of the million he’ll read in his new immortal life, sipping on some wolf’s blood, if it isn’t too bitter.
Although maybe he’ll stick with the sheep?
He isn’t sure just yet.
----------------------------------------
- [Snatch] -
Melting into ooze, Snatch clutches her face and screams, looking at the mirror that then falls down to the ground in a clatter. A wailing, foggy swirl of mist spins around the broken glass like a snail circling a rock. “Maaaster~” bubbles the howling liquid floating around the broken glass, wrapping itself around itself over and over again like a dough being kneaded by steady hands.
But only for a minute. She has to get to work right away after that.
Master is counting on her to help him restore the castle. Tonight is the big night where it all begins. The new Master does things in a different way than the old master, but she will not question it because he is so nice to her. Nobody was ever nice to her before. Plus, he’s right. The old master rushed to complete the ritual, and it got him killed. It is clever to build the castle first, to make it and its monsters strong, and then start the world-ending ritual after their defenses are impenetrable.
The humans and their ilk will pay soon enough.
But right now, Master needs her. Nobody has ever needed anything from her before, except for her to go away. The old master used to trap her in dirty jars and throw her into the old well because she was so annoying and useless, but the new master isn’t like that! She’s sure that he would give her only clean jars to be trapped in!
The very sweaty ghost clambers up and out of the glass and scurries away on all fours like a gremlin down a dark corridor that leads to the outer castle grounds as she sets to work without wasting a second more.
She won’t let him down!
— Even if it means that she has to go there.
She did lie to Master when he asked if she would be safe. It isn’t safe. But she’ll do it for him.
The spirit vanishes into the deep forest, following the sound of howling.
----------------------------------------
The forest looms heavy around her. The spirit drifts through the tops of the trees, floating from black crown to black crown as she knows better than to stay low to the ground. The ground is where the biting things are — things with special teeth that can hurt even her. This forest is old, very old, and it is full of creatures in its deeper core that defy the common laws of monsters and beasts.
Her eyes reach a cave, nestled into a rocky outcrop close to a tepid, almost black sprout of the big river. Bones of many shapes lie scattered all around it.
She would never come here normally. It’s dangerous. But what is she to do? Nobody has ever asked her for anything, and now a new master has finally arrived, and he needs her. So she will do this. He accepted her plan too. She has to. She can’t back out now.
It wasn’t what she expected when she suggested the plan, but she can see that the master is very clever and keen. This is his test for her. She has to do her best.
The ghost drifts down, exiting from the trees as she lands on an old stone altar before the cave. The altar was once covered in sacraments and offerings for the beast of the cave, a long, long time ago. Back when the forest wasn’t so deep and thick, back when people used to live even here, surviving only because of their reverence to the beast that kept them safe from the monsters of the forest.
But then the old master came, and he took the forest and the people, and not even the wretched beast of the cave — as powerful as it was — could save them.
And the altar, now it is worn flat by wind and rain and is little more than a nub hinting to a scarred history forgotten by all except the damned who reside here within the kingdom of Vampire Lords come and gone.
Already now, she can see them all around her — eyes. They’re on the cliffs, behind the trees, below the stones. The eyes of the pack are watching her, the wolves who have drank from the river of the Vampire Lord’s kingdom and become stronger and more cunning than any of their kin anywhere in the world. They are very unusual wolves.
“Beast!” calls Snatch out loud, her gravelly voice echoing out throughout the night, carrying off into the dark forest behind and around her that almost seems to swallow her words and make them vanish. “Come out!” calls the ghost.
A rumbling — a shivering — fills the air as a minor quake rattles the river and the trees. “…You…” snarls a heavy, deep voice, coming from the hole in the world with a reverberance that suggests it has risen from the very deepest pit there is. A gust of heat rushes out of the cave, like the exhalation of a great dragon. “I recognize your smell,” it growls, its tone growing more cruel and fierce. “— Your stink.”
The ground rumbles as something moves.
The wolves all around the boundary recoil, pulling back a step deeper into their places of lurking, as the dark thing begins to stir inside of the cave — a thing that has slept for hundreds of years now in a wash of night terrors and bleak visions that haunt its mind’s eye day and night.
“A master has returned to the castle,” explains Snatch, keeping her arms held out at her sides as she does her best to hold her composure still. If she runs or her body twitches like she’s going to, their hunting instinct will kick in. Her wide, sharp teeth snarl in a wicked smile. “The Night that Never Ends is promised to come soon.”
A great rumble fills the air, which then turns into a howl so deep and dense that her teeth rattle against each other, and the river itself starts to stir and bubble as a shape lumbers out of the darkness of the cave. Its eyes are massive, each bigger than she is alone; its gray, matted fur is knotted and full of roots and branches that had gotten stuck in its pelt during its centuries of sleep. A wolf — beyond giant — lumbers out of the cave with the shuffling gait of a freshly awoken sleeper, snarling at her.
“Perhaps I will have the pleasure of killing this one myself, then?” asks the monster, shaking its shaggy body. Bones and dead bark fly off in all directions, wolves whining and running away as they try to avoid the lost debris. “Before the humans do this time.”
Snatch gulps, keeping her arms held out at her sides. The ghost shakes her head. “You lived with humans for a long time, Beast, but those days are over now. So how about —”
The giant rushes forward a step, opening its massive maw and snarling at her, the stink of its breath washing past the ghost and toward the shaking trees at her back that almost seem to recoil in fear themselves as the growl shakes the world. “- They were stolen from me!” screams the wolf in anger, glaring at her. “By your keeper. Not mine,” it says, as Snatch keeps her hands lifted. “We have no such thing, and I have no interest in your cursed prophecy.” It lowers its rumbling snout down before her, gazing at the spirit with hatred in its eyes. “Why have you come here?” it asks, its massive black nose tip alone the size of her entire body. It towers over her. “Just for this? Wretch. I’ll chew on you for a hundred years before I swallow the first bite.”
Snatch laughing weakly through her desperate panting shakes her head. “The new master has called for your pack,” says the spirit. “He is going to the village now and has said for your wolves to come to him. You’re coming. Master does not ask. He orders,” she explains.
The massive beast glares at her and then lets out a sharp grunt that then turns into a laugh, coming out disturbingly from a mouth not meant to make such sounds. There are old chains of broken flails and the tips of shattered spears jutting out from in between the giant wolf’s yellowed teeth, stuck there from battles long ago.
“…And tell me, whelp,” it says, stepping forward toward her. Snatch steps back, keeping her hands raised. “Why would I do that instead of just eating you right here and now and then going back to sleep?” ponders the wolf matriarch. Snatch looks around herself, watching as the other wolves start to close the circle around her. “Your pathetic ‘master’ will die like the last one did,” it says. “Do you know why?” asks the wolf, raising itself back upright to look down at her. Snatches shakes her head. “Because I have both a pack and a territory, but he has nothing except a broken hole to live in and a useless runt like you,” explains the beast, looking down at the ghost in disinterested disgust.
‘Useless’.
That word runs through her head a few times; the dead leaves around her crunching as wolves come close enough now to leap and take her. That debilitating word floats through the ghost’s thoughts, paralyzing her, and that seems to be it. It’s over. But then the sound echoing around her mind strikes into the fresh memory of the new master and the nice things he said to her even after she botched his welcome.
He believes in her, and they just met. She can’t let the first person down who said that to her, because if she does… then everyone else will have been right, or?
“I said…” starts Snatch, stepping forward, her chest heaving as she looks around at the growling wolves coming closer on all sides, step by step by step. She exhales, looking back at the giant towering over her with firm eyes. “— you’re coming,” growls the ghost before lunging at the ancient wolf of legend that is twenty times her size with her arms outstretched to grab it. “— SNATCH!” yells the ghost, lunging forward in the same second as the pack dives at her.