For your Entertainment (Part 2)
There’s a tower standing in the center of a snow whitened clearing. Standing pristine and pure; not a tall tower to be sure, but one none-the-less. It'd seem innocent if not for the cold aura that surrounds it and the rumors... Rumors made almost fact by the vampire that has appeared before you. Behind Chay. Who so easily evaded your efforts to harm him save one lucky strike from the sith-makar. A weapon shoved into the vampire's side so that he bleeds slow and easy onto the snow, his voice making an odd gravely grinding noise as he takes off after Chay into the night-darkened forest. Chay is quick on his feet driven by fear, but the vampire seems unnaturally faster, haunting his every step with long reaching fingers like some creature from a nightmare.
Mikilos grumbles darkly. He's not much of a fighter, and not great at running... but that seems to be a thing they're doing now. "Serpentine! Use zig-zags to dodge and make yourself harder to follow!" He's a lizard, right? That should come naturally.
"No--no. No, Hunter, no--" Chay grips his bow in hand. Grips it, as the best weapon he has. The best--the best weapon. Flashes of memory--the Hunter's blessing on the wood. The Hunter's howl, faint in the distance. The fierce look of a Hound as it's found the scent.
Chay's own lips pull back, and he digs out something in his pocket. "This one--hears--" he says, pants. Pockets. WHERE?
Sargon dashes after Chay and his pursuer, making an odd three way chase. The darkness doesn't bother him specifically. The cold does, but such intense physical exertion helps. The real concern is that even if he can catch up to the vampire chasing Chay...what can he do. Especially given that the Sith's vampire hunting tactic doesn't seem to be bothering the actual vampire in the least.
Erendriel is more than a bit startled by this. She starts making her way back toward Mikilos, since well, usually the dangerous stuff radiates FROM the powerful rachmage. For now, just running.
The vampire hounds Chay. Trying to grab him when Chay dashes away, and when the vampire catches up a moment later it tries to actually bite him, long teeth; too-long teeth suddenly there where they hadn't been before. He's grinning, flashing those teeth in an expression that defies the chase. He /enjoys/ this. "You smell so /sweet/ my friend. /My sweet/." His burning green eyes piece into Chay's, into the depths of his heart.
GAME: Chay rolls will: (9)+12: 21
Magic. It's a thing. A thing Mikilos is supposed to be good at. He really should remember that detail a little quicker. Slowing for a moment to focus, the magi murmurs a few arcane phrases before gesturing at the running Sith and his various companions, lending a little boost of energy to the effort. Quick, lightning bolt sort of boost.
GAME: Mikilos casts Haste. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21
Deep breath. Deep-- "I'm an inquisitor of the HUNTER, ssslavemind!" --and Chay turns fast-fast into those fangs, and shoves the divine, holy symbol of Gilead UPWARDS, towards the vampire's face. Towards the vampire's face.
Chay stops running. "Sslavemind--the Hunter--the Hunter protects--" He grips the symbol, hard, in his hand.
The Hunter--doesn't protect. The silver light does nothing. His faith crumbles as his will does and once again--Chay is a slave.
There is no recovery from this. None. The sith-makar's arm falls. The holy symbol, and his hope, falls to the ground.
GAME: Sargon casts Thunderstomp. Caster Level: 5 DC: 11 GAME: Sargon rolls cmb: (19)+9: 28
Sargon puts on an extra burst of speed, courtesy of Mikilos' spell. Ironically it helps that Chay has been caught because it makes both he and his pursuer stop momentarily, long enough for Sargon to reach them. Although he himself stops well out of reach. He leaps into the air with one fist raised above his head. Then when he lands he falls into a squat, slamming the fist down against the ground. A ripple of crackling power flows across the ground until it slips beneath the vampire's feet.
Erendriel sees the creature attacking her companions for this trip, and well, doesn't even stop. She runs as hard as she can, not even slowing down to try anything. No good to stop and burning hands if it closes the gap in that time.
For an instant as Chay shoves his icon forward the vampire reflexively jerks backwards, hissing in the face of his faith. But the creature's magic knows no such boundary and Chay's hand and his holy item fall to the ground. The whole action leaves Kol unbalanced, and he falls forward, as Sargon's spell hits the ground beneath his feet. He should hit Chay... but he doesn't. No, there's a bright white light around Chay. Something... beautiful and it pushes the vampire to the side. There's a sizzle and as the vampire rolls away from the light you can see that he's been burned. The vampire darts to his feet, the side of his face blackened by the impact with the light but it begins to /heal/.
The light pulses around the sith-makar and then it fades, leaving Chay alone inside his head. Leaving him somehow; impossibly - free - of the vampire's mental influence. The vampire himself doesn't seem to realize this, moving closer to the sith as though they are companions now, not bothering to defend himself from Chay as he moves to lay one arm across the other's shoulders
GAME: Mikilos rolls 1d3: (3): 3 GAME: Mikilos casts Summon Monster IV. Caster Level: 12 DC: 22
Mikilos is himself unaware to Chay's freedom. He just knows he's poorly equipped to deal with a vampire. So, get help. Angelic help. Well, okay, technically Arcons. Murmuring a few quick words, the mage gestures, and reality itself swirls for a moment as planar boundaries are crossed. A trio of brightly glowing balls pop out of the swirl, their glow flicking with their high chirping voices. "We are here to Help! Helping! Oh! Oh bad! Bad guy! Stop bad guy!" The Lantern Arcons swarm towards the vampire, beams of bright energy bursting from them. <celestial>
Chay stares. It's all he can do. And then he--raises his hand. Stares at that, too, as though unbelieving it could move. And reaches back--and slams his fist home, into the vampire's face. His fist glows with a silver light--the Hunter's Bane--and his lips pull back, revealing fangs like a Hound's!
Sargon rises to his full height. He looks surprised when Chay punches the vampire. In the face. His face flashes the briefest expression of approval and then he leaps forward, with one knee rising in an attempt to slam it into the enemy's kidney, then lashing out with an elbow as he lands.
The vampire steps slightly behind Chay as the celestial bodies appear, but it only puts him more in line with the hunter's fist when it comes around. There's the solid sound of flesh on flesh and something harder. There's the tiniest snap. Kol reels back from the punch with a clearly broken nose that is running blood all down his face. He /grins/. He grins like Chay just gave him the best present in the world. "/My sweet/."
Sargon attacks and the vampire almost seems to ignore the blows. Swaying away from them like a willow tree in a breeze though nothing so beautiful. His movements are jerky and odd. Kol slips forward, reaching again for Chay. Drawn to Chay. "Thank you for this." A motion toward his face. "Let me return the favor." And then he attacks. Moves like lightning and strikes again, and again.
Mikilos hesitates a few moments, pondering over the brief list of what he still -can- do before moving closer to the vampire. Not a normal vampire. No by any stretch. But -something- has to work. The wizard gestures, and a trio of firey bolts leap from his hands, striking three different trees, setting them alight, with coils of arcane fire clinging to the branches. Preparation.
GAME: Mikilos casts Contagious Flame. Caster Level: 12 DC: 24
Sargon reaches out with both hands, still moving in that slightly-too-fast fashion of one who's been treated to a spell of Haste. But instead of punching the vampire, Sargon instead wraps both arms around, trying to interlock his fingers to form an unbreakable hold. "The stake!" he urges, eyes boring into Chay. "Hunter, the stake!"
Chay tears his eyes away from Sargon, to the--
The--
From young years on, the scaled take to caste. From caste, they learn to work together, pieces of a whole. Like a jigsaw. Like family. Like--
'Hunter! The stake!' Sargon could have used no better phrase. The hunter-caste grasps his hand around the stake in the vampire's side. Pulls it out.
"We missed the heart, lasst time," he rasps. And as Sargon holds him still, as the archons fire, aims for THAT!
Kol doesn't seem dismayed by the fact that Chay has evaded his every attack, but then... He suddenly stops and tilts his head to the side. "What?" He asks thin air, and Sargon's arms wrap around his chest and the grin on his lips fades into a faint smile. He lets lose an odd noise as the arrow is removed from his side, as the little celestials (or one of them anyways) manages a hit on his shoulder. A wound that heals so fast that it might as well have never happened. Kol grins down at Chay, fierce and... adoring. "Another time /my sweet/."
The words are whispered and torn as he lets loose a pained scream. The arrow piercing just below his ribcage, reaching upwards... upwards. And then he's smoke. He's mist. The vampire is a ghost in Sargon's hands and the stake is a bloodied remnant in Chay's fist.
Erendriel runs until she feels shes far enough away to turn around and see what all that Celestial talk was about, from a safe...? Distance.
Mikilos stops, a spell on his lips and Power in his hand... but mist? There's not a lot he can do for that. A gesture of annoyance sends bolts of fire streaming from the trio of burning trees though the mist, doing little more than making it swirl a little. The Arcons bob around uncertainly for a moment. "We helped? We Helped! We are good helpers!" <celestial>
Sargon was straining to hold Kol steady. Now he stumbles at the sudden lack of anything to hold. He reaches out again, arms trying to close higher in the air, even standing on his toes as he tries futilely to grab again, but even a trained grappler can't grab mist. He takes a few steps back, uncertain. "What new trick is this?!" he barks.
GAME: Chay rolls knowledge/religion+4: (11)+8+4: 23
Chay shakes. He shakes and nearly falls to earth. It's only his hand that catches him. "Misst--they can turn into misst. Wolves, bats. ...misst." He mouths a few words, but it's only repeating himself. Only staring off into space.
He drops his hand to the side, and--finds he's gripped the symbol, there. Hunter. Gilead.
Mikilos sighs. "Not that new. It's a vampire thing. One of the tricks that makes them so damn annoying. Start to get an upper hand, they just turn to mist and float away."
The scaled opens his muzzle, and draws in air. The tongue moistens it, draws it near the roof of the mouth, past the olfactory senses. "...he iss headed towards the tower, ssers." Then, "...perhaps we contact the Hunterss of the Dead, ssers." He remains where he is, kneeled and crouched. His hands slowly lower, and bunch in the snow.
Mikilos mutters, and nods. "Contact the military, see how fast they can get the Disjunction Cannon aimed. Likely not fast enough. We should get away before something else comes from the Tower. Kol might be her most common agent, but likely not the only one."
Sargon frowns severely. "We might as well. Perhaps they can tell us the secret to countering his powers, so that we can put an end to him." He raises a clenched fist as he says this. Possibly misunderstanding completely what the Chay has in mind.
"...thiss one can find the Hunters, ssers." Chay lowers his head and stands, slowly. He never looks away from the retreating mist--even when it vanishes, too muddled to see. He stares. Stares. "...when do we go, sshamans? Warriors?"
Erendriel slowly walks up to the others. "So is it gone?" she calls out. "I mean, should I keep running?"
Mikilos says, "When do we go? To attack? Not until we're ready. Kol is just a servant, and had us in serious trouble. The Mistress herself would be every so much worse. Plus whatever defenses of the Tower itself. We still have very little idea of what those are."
Sargon peers in the direction of the tower. As the rush of combat fades, his blood cools. He begins to shift restlessly. Perhaps his monastic training allows him to suppress shivering, but he seems no less uncomfortable. "We can't stay here," he remarks. "Even if some of us were to stay and keep watch while these Hunters of the Dead are summoned...we're not prepared for this cold."
"...thiss one will find the Hunters, then," Chay says. He sounds odd, detached--and looks to Erendriel. "Yes, sser. He has gone to the tower. We are to find the Hunters, now." ...and the hunter-caste does just that. Unless someone stops him, he will head towards the city. Towards the Vardamen.
-End