Soon, as the dead of the night creped in, an unholy chorus echoed from the mist, aiming to tear the pass, as twisted creatures lurked dark in the mist with their wordless chant.
"Life fails! Deaths awaits! Yield for a merciful feed!" A shrill voice wailed, gender indeterminate. "Offer and be a worthy feast. Honour of wetting our thirsty lips shall be yours."
Eyes wielding a knife-sharp hard squint, my gaze fixated at Maapu, who struggled desperately to wake himself. The hobgoblin warrior lifted his head and found the strength sapped. Silently, he fell down. Either the spell or the fatigue had played its part.
Even as my hands instinctively curled around the handle of Adjuration, the pale moon shed its light on the pass. With that Maapu's deliverance came, in the form of a stone ravaging howls from Rodo and his pack. A sleek stream of gray fur flowed down the pass, while Rodo himself, stalked behind. His powerful forelimbs with claws razon sharp and long as extended dagger, scaring the rocky grounds in his wake.
Some of the pack members rushed forward, forming a neat protective circle around Maapu. A sentinel, they were for the hero of Dawnmire.
Maapu's neck rose above, eyes staring at the mangy fur covered beings. The hobgoblin met the canine stare for a still moment, then recognition crossed his features. Wordlessly, Maapu pushed himself up and walked away letting the two nightmarish creatures of the night decide the outcome.
The first of the vampires materialised from within the fog, baring their fangs in a cruel and contemptous look. While the vampires hovered in the air, lightning sizzled, releasing pure terror. Then every pair of vermillion hungry eyes filled with malice hawked on Maapu's neck.
In response, the werewolves took a crouching postion and shifted into protective stance. Letting a wild howl, a young male in light gray fur, charged and soon the others followed.
Dark red vermillion eyes locked gazed with bright yellow eyes, then the lips and maws bared, fangs bared against fangs.
Leaping, the werewolves surged into levitating vampires, preventing their flimsy attempt to invade. Screams filled the air and lightning flashed through striking the grounds too close to the retreating Maapu. The thunder filled my ears, almost drowning the threatening howls of the werewolves and the shrill shrieks from the vampires.
Soon, the marauding vampires swarmed the wolf pack. They fangs sinking deep into the fur, seeking blood vessels. Overwhelming will of the vampires waged against the bestial feral nature of the werewolves. But it is the lightning strikes that scattered the pack in the end.
Only Rodo made it clear with his scent and commanding presence, enforcing his will as the alpha upon his pack. With the nearness of Rodo, the scatterd pack mates quickly regrouped and the lethal canines snapped back. Yet, despite their powerful crushing snap, their maws only met thin mist.
Circling, the vampires, dispersed as mist, attempted to find an opening, to goad a stray pack member. But, they found no such easy prey. Before Rodo's commanding presence, his pack moved with singular intention and consciousness. Enhanced by Rodo's alpha aura, the brute power of the werewolves shattered any hope harboured by the vampires.
Assured that their mist form would protect, the vampires still loomed menacingly over their werewolf pack, desperately hoping for a singular mistake to capitalise on. Yet, Rodo sundered their hope with his howl. His howl , A call for the pack, violated the still silence, ravaging the rocky walls of Dawnmire. Soon a chorus of howling followed, dispersing the blood seeking mist. Before the supernatural howl of the pack, the will of the vampire failed, forcing them to fail. Soon, the first of the vampires coalesced from the mist form into the shattering maw of the werewolves. And then more followed.
The blood of the blood suckers anoninted the grounds of Dawnmire.
The carnage was raw, untamed and brutal, even to my battle hardened senses. Viscera and entrails tossed aside like broken toys. Bones snapped like twigs under a mammoth feet.
In desperate struggle, the vampires called out to their thralls and guardians. In response, a swarm of huge wings covered the pale moon and soon their guardians descended on the field. Creatures, terrifying and equally nocturnal -- Gargoyles.
If Sanguine Lord Volinaris's strategem involved using the gargoyles to overwhelm Talus, the raw unchained savagery unleashed by Rodo's pack pierced through the chink in his armour.
The first of the gargoyles, with skin dark and drab, descended, harbouring the hope in their stone skin. Yet, the powerful swipe of Rodo's claws raked across its stone skin, leaving deep gashes. Two more swipes followed and despite his primal beast taking control, Rodo realised the futility of such a superficial scratches. In the end, it was not his claws nor his canines but the combined howl of the pack, setting ripples that grew with each howl, undulating through the gargoyles frame that shattered the gargoyle.
Undeterred by the demolition, more gargoyles swooped low, ready to tear through the pack. But their speed and surprise was cut short by the repulsing power of the werewolves howl. Their cry ever pierced the stone armour of the gargoyles striking fear into their unbeating heart. The overwhelming power of the werewolves left the stone beasts quaking in fear. Each gargoyle shattered broke the resolve of the vampire further.
It was before mid night when only the howl of the Rodo's pack proclaimed Dawnmire for their own, amidst the broken shard of gargoyles and the freshly spilled viscera of the vampires.
For a while only still silence answered in acknowledgement to the claim of the werewolves.
It was a short while before the twilight, when the last threat of the night finally lingered. A thicker fog, almost tainted vermillion, carrying a scent of all things rotten and decay, rose.
Even werewolf staggered and warned by their primordial instinct, slowly took step backwards. Only Rodo, in his capacity as the alpha, stood undaunted.
A pregnant silence, the harbinger of all things dread, slowly dispelled the fog and soon enough the fresh veil of mist parted to reveal a single lone figure standing. A rich velvet cloak regally flowling behind while a single admantine crafted rapier, unsheathed and glistening in the moonlight was all the visible weapon the figure carried.
Lifting her baleful eyes, the vampiress cast a penetrating gaze at Rodo and then her lips parted with a small smile, needle sharp fangs peeked in hunger. "An unaligned pack of mongrels." Her purr rolled into tone laden with humour, yet the coldness reigned supreme.
She took a step forward and her expression turned grim. She flicked her rapier twice in successive motion, making a point. The sound her rapier cutting the thin air echoed across Dawnmire. She flicked one more time, before pointing the tip toward Rodo.
Rodo roared. "You dare to step inside our territory!"
Her eyes sparkled at his words. With a flourish, she spun the rapier in her hand, showing off the pristinely cut ruby set in the handle of the rapier. She flicked the blade again. With her rapier slicing gracefully, she swept past Rodo. The rapier never touched his flesh.
With every swiftness of his primal nature, Rodo defly sidestepped the surprise attack.
"So the mongrel is not all bark and no bite," taunted the vampiress. "You do possess the skills to complement your words. I commend you, this much." With an enigmatic nod of approval, the vampiress slid her rapier back into the sheath of her belt. "Though you overstep your bounds by calling it your territory."
"You are an invader," growled Rodo.
Ignoring Rodo's growl, she continued contemptously, "Is this what Sanguine Lady Cedrivelle has allowed her land to fall into? Beasts who should be chained, now roam free and even have developed the audacity to claim them theirs."
Indigantion lit her features and like shadows it slipped slowly, even deeper in her eyes. "Answer me Alpha...no...nascent beast, by what authority to you claim to defend this place?" Her voice was cold, like the hoarfrost spreading on a mirror. "I demand an explanation."
"No one chains us. No one touches us!"
Shaking her head, the vampiress smiled at the disdainful remark.
As if to highlight a fact, Rodo once more swung his body around, closing the gap, meeting the vampiress eye to eyes. For a moment, the hatred seething between them flared higher. A cold glint, like the sharp edge of a razor skimmed along their skin, lancing from their gaze.
"You have slaughtered our brethren," she finally spoke directly. "The mercy of Sanguine Lord Volinaris will be denied to your pack, but to your commander, he still extends his invitation."
By then, I have closed the distance enough to directly address the vampiress.
"Tell Sanguine Lord Volinaris...no...Inform The Sangunaris that your ruler should train their hounds better."
"Dark Elf," she spat, words seething with venom, "We are the true masters of the night. Your bravado is as cheap as the company of werewolves you keep."
"True masters of the night" I chuckled repeating her words. "And silver is expensive but wooden stakes are cheap. Now leave." With that the onset of dusk began and she withdrew, yet something stirred in me. This will not be the last time.
