[WHFRP 2nd Ed] Reign in Blood (IC I)

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Regine left the makeshift herdstone and dead beastmen behind, their images fading into the gloom of the mine as she pressed forward. Was she ascending higher into the crag? Or was she on a descent, slowly traveling deeper and deeper into the earth where the dark things lay? She would be hard-pressed to guess. There were stretches where the vampire had to test and carefully navigate down wooden ladders, old, stale water dripping down from stalactites above, before she would have to round several corners and push herself up internal ramps. But whether up or down or sideways, always was the aroma of decay ever present, inhaled with each breath and like sandpaper against her extra-sensitive olfactory. Nevertheless, she continued, her crimson eyes flickering in the dim light, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement.

As she pressed on, the sound of running water reached her ears, a distant murmur cutting through the silence of the mine. Freezing on the spot, her figure hunching quietly as if she were a great cat on a hunt through the plains, Regine strained her senses to feed her more information, but only the tell-tale signs of the guttural Dark Tongue could be discerned. Sniffing the air, the vampire recognized a scent she would now never forget: more beastmen. But there was something off about this odour, something unusual that the Gor's lacked.

Intrigued, Regine quickened her pace, moving through abandoned mine equipment, dolley's and carved stone until until she emerged into a vast cavern. The space had once served as a communal area for the former miners, as wooden stalls lay tattered on its perimeter while on the opposite side of the enormous room was a yawning, jagged opening to the outside world, in all its night-time starry glory and promises of fresh air. Now, however, the beastmen had made their mark, degrading and utilizing the abandoned amenities in the best way their limited, primitive minds could conjure, and the result was little better than a stoney-floored pig sty that was arranged around a central dais upon which sat a jagged, stone-crafted emblem to the dark gods. Though Regine was unfamiliar with the chaos worshipers, she could detect the presence of magic well enough, and the hulking, carved stone seemed to pulse with a bleak, rotting energy that emanated from its central symbol of three circles banded together. Whatever deity claimed such a sigil the vampire did not know, and nor did she care, for it was the two figures adjacent to the alter that caught her attention.

Both were beastmen, but different. Bigger. Tougher. One possessed the gleam of intelligence in his eyes and would be her most dangerous threat, were he not visibly sickened, wounded and hunched next to his precious alter, hand gripping a deep, bloody gash upon his side and his breath coming in ragged inhalations. Armor of steel and leather banded across the beasts powerful body, its already impressive shoulders expanded by the spiked, dark-metal spaulders and its thick neck protruding from a primitive gorget. But the beastman to his side had no such infirmity, its massive proportions of nine feet expanded out to enormous shoulders and a hulking chest, all draped in dull-copper colored scalemail - a minotaur.

Spotting the direction of its masters attention, the great man-bull turned on the spot, its face covered by the veil of metal scale sheets that hung from its huge head, through which only a single, bright orange eye stared with visible malice. Atop its crown were a pair of horns that curled upwards into vicious points, while even its physical frame emanated pure natural power and brutal savagery, for the axe it gripped would have been the size of Regine herself and capable of cleaving her in two should it catch her in its arc.

The beast snorted, puffs of vapor exhaled through its nostrils to disappear into the night air.

"Out..." the Beastlord croaked besides the minotaur, his voice rising like thunder out of his haggard breathing while pointing an armored finger in Regine's direction.

"Out...outlander! Traitor!" his broken Breton barked.

"W...we will...send you back to...Sul Konarr...broken...!"

The vampire narrowed her eyes at the suggestion. Sul Konarr - who?

A memory of the name flickered in her mind. Something long buried...

"Break her!" the Beastlord snarled at its lone remaining champion.

Unhooking her cloak from her shoulders and undoing her weapons belt, Regine stepped forward with minimal drag and spear in hand as the Minotaur bellowed in challenge - its massive arms held up in in the air, grasping its weapon and roaring in defiance, its deafening animalistic barrage echoing off the caverns.

Then in charged.

Regine felt its momentum through her feet as the ground impacted with each hoof-fall from the massive creature. A ton of muscle, beast and steel barreled down upon her like an avalanche with its axe drawn back and ready to cleave her from shoulder to waist. Her vision shook as thunder and storm rushed forward, her side-step barely managing to evade the swing of the beasts weapon, the passage of air parting with such force that she felt the wake upon her face as he drew herself away, eight foot spear drawn up and ready, where it was immediately tested.

The minotaur was no ponderous, dumb animal. Halting its charge, it spun itself around on one hoof, its weapon coming about in a wide arc that outreached her own weapon. Regine ducked, drawn low to the ground, springing up and stabbing at the beast. The spearhead screamed off of the scalemail, unable to find a softer place to penetrate, as the minotaur's arms were drawing its huge axe in a backswing and stepping forward, its enormous mass filling her vision. Regine immediately saw what it was doing - it was locking her close. With her spear unable to be used to parry and too long to make another attack on an enemy so closely adjacent to her, the vampire would have met her end had she not leapt up and somersaulted backwards, the minotaurs greatweapon passing just inches beneath her body as she did so. Relentlessly, the minotaur surged forward again, swinging widely, then over-head then stabbing with the point atop its axe, constantly putting Regine on the defensive. She ducked, weaved and sidestepped, her cat-hunter like grace saving her each time as she stabbed her weapon against the mountain of iron and muscle before her, searching for any opening. She aimed under the arms, underneath the gorgot, against the throat, even at the furious, single orange eye that focused a herds rage solely upon her, but no opening was available. The clatter and shriek of steel against steel filled the cavern as the massive man-beast constantly advanced, its copper-colored scalemail brandishing more and more silvered streaks where the vampires spear-head was grazed instead of finding penetration.

The thing was relentless! Regine could only think for a second. On and on it surged, that huge axe seemingly a cross-like brandish of razorsharp steel that constantly pushed her back.

Another swing across her midsection. This time Regine gambled and skipped back half a step, the crest of the axe slicing through the front of her clothes as it passed by with the slimmest of margins. Acting quickly, the vampire leapt to the side, away from the swinging axe, landing on the flank of the monster and shooting her spear up like an arrow to catch the beast in the shoulder. The minotaur snarled in anger and Regine could smell blood, but a small win turned to horror as she tried yanking her weapon free, only to see it locked against a steel plate of the beast's armor. The minotaur reacted quicker. Its closest arm let go of the handle of its weapon and swung back with mighty force, catching Regine in the stomach and blasting her off her feet to sail a dozen feet across the room and impact agonizingly against a wall of the cavern. Her head rung, her midsection ached like fire devouring her guts - but at least her spear was free.

But the monster charged again. Bellowing its bestial rage, shaking the floor with its weight, the minotaur slammed forward and the vampire was barely able to duck beneath its unearthly swing. Once again, she leapt up, to somersault back -

The minotaur's huge, armored paw was waiting. Having learned from the prior escape, it had predicted this move. Its massive grip halted Regine's escape and Slammed! her back down onto the ground. All unlife seemed to leave the vampire as her body impressed into the ground an outline of her silhouette, the world ringing and slowing down as stars dotted across her vision.

Its massive hoof compressed came down on her chest, compressing her against the floor, pinning in place as it rose its axe above its head for the swinging decapitation.

Barely able to move, Regine only had one option. She dropped her spear. Her claws slide from all ten of her fingers and she punctured each of them into the knee of the arresting hoof, each black talon piercing the tissue, bone, ligaments and tendons as if they weren't even there. And then she gripped and pulled apart.

Thick, blackish blood splattered down and across the vampires face. The minotaur roared above, a pained, agonized bellow whose power reverberated through Regine's entire body as it stumbled back, barely able to stand. Drawing herself up to her rump, seizing her spear, Regine drew her weapon about, aimed and thrusted upwards - the steel spearhead of her weapon slicing right into the exposed underside of the minotaurs throat.

"Gllrrr...ghhrrr.....ggrrrhhgghll!!" the monster gargled, its lone eye wide, robbed of all fury and power, now only open and helpless as it stumbled forward onto its one good knee. Its other hung in bloody ribbons.

Back on her feet, Regine retrieved her sword and returned to face the armored beast, what muscular flesh that was visible beneath its armored scale-mail quickly paling as its lifeforce bled out from two fatal wounds. For the last time, monster and vampire locked eyes: its one and her two, staring, considering, the once fire of hatred now just an ember, before Regine held her sword in both hands and brought it down on the creatures broad neck, cleaving through the heavy bone and thick meat and cutting the huge head from the monsters massive shoulders.

Were she a mortal, Regine would likely soon join the minotaur in death, as doubtless internal hemoraghing would finish her off where a broken spine and bones had started. Instead, she felt all her tissues, soft and hard, knitting back together in her body as the adrenaline of combat slowly wore off, until she was whole again, staring at the enormous, fallen foe before her.

"Ou...outlander...!" the sickened voice croaked from behind. Turning to face it, Regine spotted the Beastlord and approached, her blood slick blade in hand, her image dishevelled and clothing mauled - but she was cold-eyed and murderous.

"T..r...traitor...all of you...ma...may the Gr...Great Beast...take you as...slave, whore! M...may you ne...never cea...cease giving...him sons....! Beh-heh-heh-heh.." the bloodied, wet cackling heaved up crimson mucous from deep within. Through as he was, the Beastlord tried picking up a battered cleaver next to his position, but Regine easily intercepted the effort, plucking it from his larger hand and tossing it away, bringing her own weapon up against its throat.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Who is Sul Konarr?" she demanded simply.

The Beastlord glared back with tired eyes at the centre of a sick, muzzled face.

"Heh heh heh...human bitch lies...you know who...you his mate...heh heh...we dri...drive out your weak herd...from here...sow...ours now...but this..."

The beastman glared up at the jagged pillar beside them, that triangular arrangement of three circles having overseen the entire ordeal like some delighted, silent spectator. Beneath its image had blood been shed, and few things could have made it happier.

"I...go to...the Great Beast...I...Rakath Blackmane!!" the Beastlord summoned the last of his strength, beating at his chest to announce his name to some unseen arbiter, "I...heh heh...I send....Great Beast many human wives...many human skulls...from Lyonesse to Bourdelex I take - "

A flash of steel decapitated the Beastlord, silencing him forever as his great, ugly head wetly slapped and rolled across the floor.

Regine looked at the dead creature, then up at that pillar, then over at the running stream of water against a side of the cave, its current flowing into the mountain, into the mine. She sniffed the air. Unseen particles told her many stories. The beastmen. The miners. The fresh scent of water hiding something within...the Norscans. They had been here.

The vampire cleaned her sword and retrieved her weapons and cloak. Moving over to the cavern opening, the scent of fresh, pine air washing over her skin in the pale moonlight, Regine cast her gaze across the forested valley and a beautiful fjord that reflected beautiful Luna. But there was something else her binocular vision could detect, something small and hidden and unnoticeable had she not the keen senses she now possessed: the white sheet of a tent. Two miles away. Within a crevice adjacent to the fjord.

Sniffing the air.

The faintest scent of cooking meat.

Norscans.

They were here.

Looking back over at the cave, then back down to the fjord with the small valley offshoot, Regine willed a transformation over herself. Her legs drew in, her body grew longer as she hunched forward onto all fours. Bones creaked and fur sprouted, all tools and clothes made by mortal hands melding into her very flesh only to be covered by a sheet of glistening, blue-black pelt of her wolf form. Huge, but fast, the wolf darted forward on all fours and down the path and into the forest. The night was not yet over.