She was certainly comely enough, dark hair, brown eyes, and brazenly dressed as she called to me, promising warm company on a chilly Moonglow night. I had no time for such nonsense, I am proud of my disciplined, serious mind, and the power that it wields. The scowl and shake of my head was nearly automatic as I stalked past her without further acknowledgement, in a rustle of my dark red robes. Instead I paid attention to my surroundings, which probably saved my life only a few moments later.
I heard the light footsteps behind me, and swung my staff in a wide arc as I turned around. It was the same girl, with fangs bared in a mysterious smile. She was clearly stronger and faster than I was, she caught my staff as if I were a child swinging a stick. Before I knew it, she had wrenched it from my grip with preternatural speed and grace.
Unfortunately for her, my staff is enchanted and warded against the undead. She shouted in pain as both of her hands erupted in flames, dropping it. I had my chance. My first spell caused her entire body to seize in pain, dropping to the ground in near rigor-mortis as her limbs bent at unnatural angles. The words of the spell dripped from my tongue like black poison, and the hissing words of the chant seethed from my lips like a deadly serpent. The vampire's shoulders dislocated with loud popping noises, limbs shattered, and she screamed in that unnatural multi-cadence voice of the Kindred.
A spike of pure hatred pierced my heart and soul, lodging deep into my gut, causing my teeth to clench tight and my hands to quiver as I spat the final words of vile magic. Her soul was torn away as tens of thousands of tiny black wasps erupted from her mouth, nose, ears, and the open, weeping sores that covered her broken body. The monster's unending scream was replaced by an angry buzzing noise that steadily raised in pitch and volume. The wasps swarmed into a churning, dark, buzzing cloud of hatred. Until I freed them, and the cloud dispersed, flying up and out of sight, leaving nothing but an empty, fanged husk.
Two figures in an alleyway up the street turned to flee with an unnatural grace and speed that marked them as Kindred. They had seen everything, and had no desire to share in their fellow creature's fate.
"Lovely" a voice to my left stated. "Though I think the soul-rend spell could have been done more efficiently."
I didn't even need to turn to identify the voice. With no visible emotion, I looked upon the remains of the death I had just caused. My soul shrank back from what I had done. My mind raced to rationalize my actions. Necromancy is a tool. Nothing more. This is war. It's necessary. What foolishness! I had just wrought a horrifying act of pure evil, and a part of me reveled in the dark power.
"Razele" I responded simply, picking up my staff from the ground.
I heard the light footsteps behind me, and swung my staff in a wide arc as I turned around. It was the same girl, with fangs bared in a mysterious smile. She was clearly stronger and faster than I was, she caught my staff as if I were a child swinging a stick. Before I knew it, she had wrenched it from my grip with preternatural speed and grace.
Unfortunately for her, my staff is enchanted and warded against the undead. She shouted in pain as both of her hands erupted in flames, dropping it. I had my chance. My first spell caused her entire body to seize in pain, dropping to the ground in near rigor-mortis as her limbs bent at unnatural angles. The words of the spell dripped from my tongue like black poison, and the hissing words of the chant seethed from my lips like a deadly serpent. The vampire's shoulders dislocated with loud popping noises, limbs shattered, and she screamed in that unnatural multi-cadence voice of the Kindred.
A spike of pure hatred pierced my heart and soul, lodging deep into my gut, causing my teeth to clench tight and my hands to quiver as I spat the final words of vile magic. Her soul was torn away as tens of thousands of tiny black wasps erupted from her mouth, nose, ears, and the open, weeping sores that covered her broken body. The monster's unending scream was replaced by an angry buzzing noise that steadily raised in pitch and volume. The wasps swarmed into a churning, dark, buzzing cloud of hatred. Until I freed them, and the cloud dispersed, flying up and out of sight, leaving nothing but an empty, fanged husk.
Two figures in an alleyway up the street turned to flee with an unnatural grace and speed that marked them as Kindred. They had seen everything, and had no desire to share in their fellow creature's fate.
"Lovely" a voice to my left stated. "Though I think the soul-rend spell could have been done more efficiently."
I didn't even need to turn to identify the voice. With no visible emotion, I looked upon the remains of the death I had just caused. My soul shrank back from what I had done. My mind raced to rationalize my actions. Necromancy is a tool. Nothing more. This is war. It's necessary. What foolishness! I had just wrought a horrifying act of pure evil, and a part of me reveled in the dark power.
"Razele" I responded simply, picking up my staff from the ground.
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