Chapter 28: Book II: Chapter 8: Love and Circles

Chapter 8: Love and Circles

“Gemstones drink up the Aether’s power like sponges do water. Any Magi can squeeze that power out of them to bolster their spells. But a clever Magi can use gemstones to power intricate enchantments. While the cleverest Magi instead asks why Gemstones do this and what can you learn from it. As one of those Magi I can tell you the answer is quite a lot actually.” - First Preceptor Leonid Lupa of Vindabon.

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During their travels, Natalie had practiced night and day to keep her False Life active. Pumping her own heart minute after minute, hour after hour, until it became second nature. As the bustle of Vindabon surrounded her, Natalie was proud of her commitment. Surrounded by a million new experiences, it was painfully easy to lose focus. Yet her unliving heart kept beating as she was jostled about by bustling crowds. Stunned by the sight of Griffin Knights flying overhead and surprised by all the different varieties of people.

As Cole gently pulled her through busy promenades and down lesser-used streets. Natalie tried to commit to memory every strange and interesting thing she saw. A trio of Dwarfs wearing intricate metal masks arguing with a woman in a flowing dress so long its hem was held up by a strange creature made of clay. Two tall men with skin as black as coal wrapped in striped white furs debated which direction they should go. By a tavern, a burly-looking Orc had set up a table and was challenging anyone who’d listen to arm-wrestle. While a gaggle of Clockmonks haggled over the price of copper with an unenthusiastic merchant.

They’d been walking for nearly an hour, Natalie trusting Cole’s experience and letting herself just soak in the sights. When they came upon a market square with a fountain at the center. The fountain was shaped like a huge throne with a marble king seated upon it. Water dribbled from his crown, the top of his scepter, and the tips of his outstretched fingers. On the rim of the fountain sat a man with a fiddle. Gently playing a soft tune as the water bubbled behind him and the crowd of shoppers murmured. Natalie watched the musician playing his gentle crooning melody and wondered at it.

She’d never seen music performed outdoors. Even during festivals, the few instruments in Glockmire were kept inside. Their players fearing the Vampire’s attention. Worried their talent would catch the attention of a Noble or fixed-stars forbid, annoy one of them. Somehow that sight of the sandy-haired Busker and his fiddle made it real for Natalie. Proving to her mind, she’d really left Glockmire and the Blood Duchies behind. That realization made her want to both laugh and cry.

A passerby flipped the Busker a coin, and the young musician nodded thankfully, then played a long sharp note on his violin. Heads all across the square swiveled to the performer, and once he had their attention, the Busker started to play again. Faster and louder this time. No slow crooning but an incredible song that captivated the entire square. The song lasted perhaps a minute, and the Busker ended it with a note as loud as the first.

Scattered applause spread through the crowd, and a coin piece of two. Frowning, the Fiddler tossed his instrument into the air. The crowd gasped, Natalie included, as the expensive instrument tumbled through the air. Then right as it came eye-level with the Fiddler, it stopped, bow and all. Hanging there in the air, gently spinning like Kisitne’s bangle had days ago. With bated breath, Natalie watched as the floating violin started to play. Continuing its earlier song but at a slower tempo. Looking at the Busker, Natalie saw his eyes were unfocused, and his hands were twitching in time with the music. As the second stanza of the song ended, a louder cheer went up from the crowd. Clearly impressed with the flying fiddle. But the Busker held up a hand to quiet them.

Reaching down with one hand, the Busker grabbed a case from near his feet and opened it. Pulling out a second fiddle. The square went silent except for the sound of the first fiddle still playing. Gently the Busker held up the second fiddle. Letting it and its bow roll from his hands. The crowd gasped as the second fiddle plummeted to the ground, stopping a handspan from the cobblestones. Shutting his eyes, the Busker smiled, and the two fiddles started to play a duet. Both orbiting him like planets around a Sun. The fiddles played faster and faster as they whirled through the air.

Natalie pulled her eyes from the spinning fiddles to the musician. His eyes shut, his hands dancing in the air like a weaver at work on a tapestry. The duet continued, the twin instruments playing off each other in a hypnotic melody. A wide smile split the Busker’s face as the song reached its climax. The two fiddle cases at his feet opened up, and the instruments dropped into them with a final note. As the cases snapped shut, the Busker grabbed both bows out of the air and bowed deeply. A massive cheer erupted from the crowd, and soon the wooden bowl before the Busker was overflowing with coins.

Awe-struck, Natalie fished out a silver piece and slipped forward to deposit the coin. The musician saw her and winked. Snorting in amusement, she returned to Cole and linked her arm with his. Moving over to the far side of the market square, Natalie asked. “Wasn’t that amazing?”

Cole nodded. “A little disingenuous but still impressive.”

Looking up at her towering suitor Natalie asked. “Disingenuous? Was he not actually playing or something?”

Shaking his head no, Cole explained. “He was playing. That was what was impressive. Even if Telekinesis is a simple magical art, that level of control combined with musical skill is rare. What he lied about was his origin. Did you see his clothes?”

Natalie flicked her eyes back to the Busker, still collecting his earnings and thanking the crowd. He wore a shabby coat and trousers that might have once been respectable. Confused, Natalie asked. “What about his clothes?”

Cole chuckled. “They are shabby, but not too shabby. While he is immaculately groomed with two expensive instruments in magically locking cases. On top of that, his undershirt is silk. He’s probably someone of Pedigree or Position pretending to be a humble Busker.”

Blinking in surprise, Natalie asked. “How did you notice that?”

Cole’s smile faltered. “Mild paranoia. A threat first presents itself through abnormalities. I looked for discrepancies and found them.”

Sighing, Natalie got onto her toes, pulled down her scarf, and kissed Cole’s cheek. “I wish you could relax. But, still, I appreciate your watchfulness.”

Putting his arm to the small of Natalie’s back Cole found his smile returning. “You are getting good at maintaining your False-Life.”

Chuckling, Natalie leaned against him. “You just say that because you like warm kisses.”

Cole shrugged in acknowledgment. “I won’t deny it. I-”

He was cut off by Natalie suddenly stopping. Worried, he looked to the Vampire and saw her eyes were wide and staring at a nearby food stall. Where a chubby Dwarven matron was selling an odd pastry. The smell then hit Cole. Of warm crust and hearty fillings. Vegetables, venison, and various spices baked into a marvelous creation. Natalie let out a pained whimper as she sniffed the air. “What is THAT?” she asked.

Licking his lips, Cole answered. “An Oggy. Dwarven mine pies.”

Humming in delight, Natalie spoke. “Oh, they smell delicious. We’ve got to get-” stopping mid-sentence, she deflated like a burst waterskin. Hanging her head, Natalie continued. “I keep forgetting I can’t eat anymore.”

Putting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, Cole tried to steer the young Vampire away from the delicacy. Natalie had learned the hard way that undeath and food don’t mix. More than once, she’d found herself idly snacking on a piece of bread or jerky during their trip. Only realizing her mistake much later. Anything she ate wasn’t digested, simply rotting inside her stomach like so much garbage. Leaving the poor Vampire with the world’s worst bad breath until she ‘expelled’ what she’d eaten. By the third time, Natalie had given Cole strict orders to stop her from eating anything, violently if need be.

Resisting his attempts to steer her away, Natalie let out a pained moan. “It's not fair. I make it here and can’t even enjoy the food.” suddenly standing upright like she’d been hit by lightning, Natalie turned to Cole and said. “I wanna try something.”

A confused Cole watched as Natalie went to the Dwarven Food Seller and bought an Oggy. Returning to Cole, she handed him the pie. “Here, enjoy”

Skeptical, Cole looked at Natalie and bit into the Oggy. It was better than he expected. The meat and vegetables blended together, doused in some sort of gravy, while the crust was the perfect mixture of fluffy and crunchy. Taking a second bite, Cole hummed his enjoyment and saw Natalie watching him intently. A little confused (and worried), Cole swallowed and asked. “What in the Seraph’s Songs are you doing?”

Shrugging, the Vampire said. “Flavoring you.”

They just stared at each other for a moment before both burst into laughter. The midnight-dark comedy of Natalie’s words hit home. A deep gut-busting laugh roared from Cole as he struggled not to drop the Oggy. Natalie grabbed his arm and steadied it as her own chuckles continued. Finally, when they both recovered, Cole quietly mused. “I don’t think a single Oggy will change how my blood tastes”

Natalie smiled beneath her scarf. “Who said I was talking about your blood?” then waggled her eyebrows suggestively. This time Cole really did drop the Oggy.

Inhuman reflexes compensated for Cole’s shock, and Natalie grabbed the pie before it hit the ground. Returning it to Cole, she patted him on a crumb-stained cheek and, in a sing-songy voice, said. “~Eat up!~”

Cole found his mind instantly going to Natalie's oh-so-soft lips and her very sharp fangs. Sending a mixture of arousal and fear through him. Shaking his head and tentatively taking another bite, he looked at the amused Natalie. He could see the broad smile in the crinkle of her eyes. Leaning against Cole, she kept watching him eat.

“But in all seriousness, I’m trying to eat vi-vi…” snapping her fingers, she found the word she’d been looking for. “Vicariously through you. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shrugging, Cole finished the Oggy, Natalie’s eyes never leaving his face and mouth. Finishing the meal, he looked around the market square. “Is there anything else you think we need, or should we be on our way?”

Natalie mimicked his glances and saw a dozen fascinating sights. Pushing down temptation, Natalie shook her head in the negative. “There will be time for that later. Let's find this Inn. Where is it, by the way?”

Cole looked up towards the nearest Temple tower. A dark-gray column inscribed with skulls, hourglasses, and runes of Rest. The Temple of Master Time in Vindabon. Pointing to the tower, he said. “It's near the Temple. I figured it would be convenient to have our base close by.”

Accepting that, Natalie followed after Cole as he charted a course toward the Temple. With the market square behind them, Natalie looked up at the ominous belfry and swallowed nervously. She was more than a little worried about the Priests of Death and how they might react to her existence. Cole, like always, seemed confident things would work out. Natalie had a slight suspicion that attitude was either a sham for her sake or the coping mechanism of a suffering Immortal.

After half an hour or so of walking, they reached the Temple Plaza. Unobstructed by its surroundings, the full form of the Temple came into view. A monolithic structure of basalt and silver, it sat in the center of a withered garden decorated with hundreds of statues. The main doors to the Temple were carved from some impossibly dark wood and inlaid with an ornate hourglass nearly two stories tall. Giant statues of hooded figures flanked the door. Each holding a Polearm in one hand and a lantern in the other. Glancing at Cole, Natalie wanted to shiver. The grim statues could be the Paladin’s siblings.

While less populated than the Market square, the Temple Plaza still had knots of people moving about it. Some attending business with the Temple itself, others simply passing by. Looking up, Natalie saw the Belfry's shadow falling on the statue garden surrounding the Temple. The shadow lay on a statue of Hound sitting at attention. Glancing at Natalie and following her gaze, Cole remarked. “Oh, it's almost fifth bell.”

No sooner had he said it when dolorous thunder boomed out from the Belfry. Answered in turn by the nine other Bells across the city. As each Temple rang out a different note.

‘BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!’ The bells counted off the hour, Natalie covering her ears as the sound shook her teeth. Looking at Cole, she raised an eyebrow in questioning.

Gesturing to the Belltower and the statues, he explained. “It's a sundial. You can tell the time by what statue the tower’s shadow falls upon.”

Accepting that and giving the tower another glance, Natalie followed after the already departing Cole. She’d never heard something that loud before. Only the worst summer storms and their thunder rivaled the Bells of Vindabon. Judging by the nearby pedestrian’s reaction, this cacophony wasn’t anything unusual or special. Natalie suddenly became very thankful for her odd relationship with sleep. The idea of trying to fall asleep with all ten of those bells going off every hour seemed nightmarish.

Leaving the Temple Plaza, they ducked down a sidestreet and found their destination. A painted wooden sign hung out over the road, attached to a building of brick and timber. The sign depicted a Skeleton drinking from an oversized tankard of Ale. With the words. ‘The Final Flagon’ embossed in bright white below it.

Cole went to the Inn’s door and pushed it open, a small bell tinkling as he did. The pair entered, and Natalie felt like she’d stepped back in time. For a single treacherous second, she thought she was back at the Silly Goat. Not because of the Flagon’s interior. Its stone floors and tapestries could not be more different than the Goat. But the feeling of the place. The warm, inviting atmosphere felt oh so familiar. It felt like a kind hug and a gut punch at the same time. Another painful reminder of the home she’d lost.

Refocusing, she looked to realize Cole was looking at her, a worried expression on his face. Gently he asked. “Should we just go to the Temple? I’m certain I can explain the situation to the Priests, and we can-”

Shaking her head, Natalie cut him off. “No, I’ll be fine. I can’t let myself wallow.” Pushing down her emotions, she examined the Inn for a second time. Ignoring her initial feelings and trying to examine the place objectively. Tables and benches crowded up next to a fireplace. Four Vindabonians sat at one table engaged in a lively discussion. A large bar dominated one wall with a staggering collection of liquor on display behind it. In one corner was a staircase leading up to the Inn’s rooms. At the center of the dining space was a large slab of marble with wilted flowers near its base.

Nodding towards the marble slab, Natalie raised an eyebrow quizzically. Cole shrugged. “Some Northerners have funeral feasts. With the body laid out as part of the celebration. Considering the place's location, they probably host lots of those feasts.”

Half-glaring at Cole, Natalie sighed. “You take me to the most lovely places.”

Sheepishly, he just shrugged and headed over to the Bar-counter. No one was there, but a small brass bell sat next to the counter's edge. Cole reached for it before he could even touch it, a loud voice called from somewhere in the Inn’s kitchen. “Be right out!”

Moments later, a short middle-aged woman bustled out from behind the swinging door leading to the kitchen. Straddling the line between curvaceous and plump, she had long blond hair and an even-tempered smile. Looking over the pair of newcomers, the Barkeep paused mid-stride on seeing Cole’s appearance but quickly recovered. “Welcome to the Final Flagon. I’m Aunty Alissa. What can I get ya?”

Trying to smile in a way not easily misconstrued as a threat, Cole asked. “Do you have any rooms available?”

The Innkeeper nodded. “Aye, will that be one or two?”

Before Cole could answer, Natalie butted in. “ONE!” Both Aunty Alissa and Cole looked at Natalie with surprise, and the young Vampire wilted slightly. Embarrassed at her abruptness. She’d been looking forward to getting Cole in a warm bed with some privacy for literal months now. Natalie wasn’t about to let his awkward sense of honor spoil this opportunity. Even if it meant a tiny bit of awkwardness.

Amused, the Innkeeper remarked. “Well then, how long will you be staying? And is there anything I can get you two? Food? Drink?”

“Just two nights for now. But that might change,” answered Cole. “As for anything else, do you have any news about the city? We’ve just arrived, and I’d like to know how things are.”

Aunty Alissa’s smile faltered slightly. “Sure, but little of it is good unfortunately. The war with the Leeches is starting up again, and that's got the Nobles all in a fuss. They’re all distracted with the fight and not paying nuff attention to things round here. We’ve got a Werewolf problem, see? And the Guards have done bugger all to deal with it.”

Cole and Natalie looked at each other before asking in unison, “A Werewolf problem?”

The Innkeeper nodded. “We’ve had murders over the last month. Something been stalking the night, ripping out the hearts of people. It started right when the Werefolks started showing up. So people saying one of them lost it. Got everybody on edge, and the Guards have been busy stopping idiots from attacking any Werefolk instead of catching the right one.”

Pulling out a pipe from a pocket, Aunty put it in her mouth and ignited it with a snap of her fingers. As smoke started to bloom from the pipe, she continued. “It’s probably a good thing this is happening while there is fighting. Every stupid youth with something to prove is off playing at Soldier. Not looking to stir up trouble with the Werefolks. Still, it's been tricky; most of the killings have been here in Weinstadt. My night crowd’s been shit. People not wanting to risk being out at night.”

Pausing for a second, she blew a cloud of smoke out of her nose and remarked. “I probably should have told you that after I got your coins. Oh well.”

Cole paid for their rooms and thanked the Innkeeper for her honesty. She gave them both a key and directions. “Third floor, right hallway, second door. No neighbors, so you two can be noisy. “

Slightly confused by the Innkeeper’s words, Cole took his key and headed towards the staircase. Natalie, on the other hand, understood the Innkeepers words and was torn between thanking the worldly woman and looking for a small hole to hide in. She compromised by murmuring a word of appreciation while hiding her face in the folds of her scarf.

As the pair retreated up the stairs, Aunty Alissia chuckled to herself. In the thirty years she’d spent tending bars and keeping the Inn, she’d seen nervous newlyweds, youthful trysts, scandalous affairs, and every other form of romance under the stars. It was part of life and, when done properly, one of the best.

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:: Sexual Content starts Here::

The couple found the room easily enough. Dim glowstones and curtained windows illuminated a large four-poster bed, a washroom, and a cabinet. Cole set his pack down by the cabinet and took off his cloak. Finding a hook on the wall to hang it. Suddenly he felt warm breath on the back of his neck and a soft body pressing to his back. Natalie’s arms snaked around him, clutching his chest as she nestled into him.

Softly in a nervous voice, she whispered. “Hey, Cole…”

His own voice thick with tension, he answered. “Yes?”

Slowly slipping around Cole so she could look him in the eyes, but never breaking contact, she said. “I want you. Do you want me?”

Nodding slowly, Cole rasped. “Yes.”

His heart was pounding like a galloping horse, and every muscle in his body tight with nervous tension. Cole knew he wanted this with all his soul. Natalie’s soft fingers moved to his face, her lips soon following. They kissed gently at first before moving into something stronger and more intense. Sparks flew between them as Cole reached up and gripped Natalie’s hair, her own hands clutching to him with abandon. Eventually, Cole broke the kiss, the need to breathe overpowering even the sheer desire coursing through him.

Kissing his neck, Natalie whispered. “Hold still.” then sunk her fangs into his throat. Cole gasped in surprise, not just at the sudden bite but at what Natalie’s wandering hands were doing. She’d found his length and gently stroked it through his pants. Licking her bite close, Natalie pushed Cole onto the nearby bed. The eternally watchful and careful Paladin flopped onto the mattress, utterly blindsided.

A coy smile playing across her red lips, Natalie licked the last few drops of Cole’s blood from them. “A little something to get us both warmed up,” she whispered, giving him a wink. While Natalie was fairly confident in her ability to keep False-Life mid-coitus, she preferred to let a little snack mute her hunger and do the work for her.

Carefully she removed her hairpin, using her raven locks as insulation against the silver. As the heirloom clattered to the floor and her hair billowed out. She smiled, running her hands over her body and watching Cole’s eyes follow them. Slowly she started to undo knots and let her dress fall away. The fabric catching on her stiff nipples before pooling to the ground around her feet. Cole’s eyes were impossibly wide, and he looked half-hypnotized by the sight.

Exactly the effect Natalie had been hoping for. No stranger to sex or foreplay, Natalie had spent some idle time planning out exactly how’d she would do this. Cole could be so stiff and nervous, so she’d decided to take the lead on this. Thankfully Cole had proven more than receptive and was, well…stiff in all the right ways. Thinking to her earlier ministrations, she couldn’t help but notice he was rather…proportional in these matters. That didn’t worry her much; months of unfulfilled desire and a little bit of blood had Natalie heady with lust.

Slipping her underwear off, Natalie walked towards the bed. Hips swaying with all the seductive charm she could muster. Slipping onto the large mattress and crawling towards Cole, she ran a finger along his chest, making him shiver. Gripping the fabric of his tunic, she spoke in a husky whisper. “I think you are a little overdressed, Love. Would you like me to help you with that?”

Cole glanced down at his clothes and seemed to register they existed. A fierce internal war was going on inside Cole. Twelve years without sex or anything close to it left him starved for it. He wanted to pounce on Natalie and slack that hunger. To make love with all the passion, he could muster. He was also terrified of hurting her and, on some hidden level, of being hurt by her. His times in the Dungeons of the Voivode had been replete with all manner of torture and degradation. The Vampires were eager to sample the exotic “Homunculus Knight” in all manner of ways. Many of which left him with nightmares he’d wake up screaming from.

But those painful memories were more than a decade old and would not break him. They could not break him. Natalie wasn’t a monster in the dark desiring a quick snack and a cruel fuck. She was his lover, his companion, someone he trusted. Slowly, Cole gripped his tunic and started to peel it off. Natalie helped, her gentle fingers tracing his exposed flesh.

As she drank in his imposing physique, she cooed. “Gods, you really are built like a statue.”

Cole blushed at that as he sat up and started to slip off his boots and pants. Natalie snuggled in next to him as he worked. Her hands traced his back and chest. Still tense, Natalie gently shoved the naked Cole back down onto the bed and took his hand. She guided one to her breast, his calloused palm encompassing the soft, warm flesh. By instinct, he squeezed, and Natalie let out a small moan. Before Cole could react or do something stupid like apologize, she set his other hand on her hip. Then came in for a kiss. They locked lips, Cole kneading her breast and enjoying the curve of her hip.

As the kiss ended, Natalie said in a breathy whisper. “I like touching you, Cole. I like touching you a lot. I know you like touching me. So touch me more.”

Then with a wide smile, she added. “I can smell your arousal. I can also feel it.” she wiggled her hips, Cole gasping as his member slid against warm slick flesh. Sinking down, her lips at his clavicle, she whispered. “I know you can be more… assertive, and I bet you want to be. Go ahead, I don’t mind; in fact, I’ll enjoy it.”

That did it. That broke the dam. In an explosion of movement, Cole flipped Natalie onto her back and pounced on top of her. A mix of a laugh and a squeal escaped Natalie as she landed in the soft blankets. Strong hands gripped her hips, and Cole’s mouth nipped at her neck, making her shudder. His lips traveled lower, finding one of her nipples and sending a note of pleasure through her. He continued his downward exploration reaching her stomach and eventually her inner thigh. Natalie’s eyes widened as she realized what he was about to do. A throaty gasp escaped her lips as Cole started to lick.

Shaky fingers found the back of Cole’s head as Natalie writhed in enjoyment. Delirious with pleasure, Natalie tried to understand if unwilling abstinence was to blame or if Cole had some knack for ‘The Paramour’s Kiss.’ As a long moan escaped her lips, Natalie hoped it was both. She could definitely get used to this sort of treatment. Feeling the Peak coming, she shivered and rasped. “A-a-almost there.”

A few seconds later, the avalanche hit, and Natalie was reduced to a twitchy loose-limbed mess. One final lash of Cole’s tongue sent her spasming, and loosed a whimper from her mouth. Blinking away tears of pleasure, she looked up at Cole’s imposing form. His muscled chest heaving. His face split in a wicked smile. Recovering slightly, Natalie let out a weak laugh. “If…If… I wasn’t already in love… well, that would have done it.”

Cole snorted in amusement. “Do you need a moment? Or are you ready…?” he asked.

Rolling her hips and clutching her breasts, riding the ripples of pleasure, Natalie chuckled. “More! By Sister Sun, that was wonderful.”

Smiling, Cole reached down and cupped Natalie’s face. “I really love you Nat; thank you for being part of my life.”

Natalie’s already flushed cheeks ignited, and she whimpered. “Oh, that just isn’t fair.”

Clutching her hands in his, Cole leaned down and kissed her. Positioning himself to enter her. Shaky with excitement, Natalie gasped as she felt him brush against her sex. Then her world went black. Bone-deep cold exploded through Natalie’s body, and she let out a scream of pain.

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: End of Intimate Scene:

Panicked, Cole looked at Natalie and saw she was shaking and shivering. Pulling back, afraid he’d hurt her, he saw frost billow from her lips. Natalie’s eyes rolled back in her head while strange black runes started to form on her skin. Runes Cole recognized. They were rest-markers. Things carved on tombstones or at the gates of a Cemetary. Designed to trammel the Undead and weaken Necromancy. This was an attack; someone was attacking Natalie!

Lust and love bled away into rage. Cole called Natalie’s name as he looked over her body, seeing the marks spread with every second. Just then, Cole heard shouts from downstairs and the thunder of boots on the staircase. Someone had found them and sought to take Natalie. Snarling in anger, Cole found his pants and his axe. Lengthening it to a Halberd, he held it at the ready. If the jagging Vampires were brazen enough to attack in Vindabon, they must truly be desperate or arrogant. It mattered not, Cole would keep Natalie safe and make them pay.

Gripping his weapon tight, Cole spared a glance at Natalie and thought back to Isabelle’s death. Of how she’d screamed when they set her on fire. How utterly jagging useless he’d been, lying there, his arms torn off and his life-blood pooling out around him as his lover died. Turning back to the door and approaching footsteps, the Paladin of Death left, and the Homunculus Knight returned. Growling, he made an oath. “Not again, never again!”

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Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth ground his titular teeth together in frustration. There had been two more murders since the Cemetary incident, and progress was negligible. One of the killings had been in the Fourteenth District, so now he had the other district Guards causing problems. More than one Guard-Captain had a grudge against Iron-Teeth. His status as an immigrant to Vindabon made his appointment a sore subject. While far more cosmopolitan than most places, Vindabon still got prickly about outsiders gaining any sort of internal power. It was less about him being a Dwarf and more about him not being native-born. Iron-Teeth couldn’t tell if that spoke well or poorly of the city.

Mina’s lead about the killer being Undead had helped and at least gotten the City Guards to stop sniffing about the Werefolk. A closer examination of the bodies by Mina and one of her superiors confirmed the bite marks all came from a human. They lacked the sharpness you’d expect from Werefolk. This superior was apparently a retired Rest-Bringer who’d been happy to bring his knowledge of fighting the Undead to bear. Knowledge that eliminated possibilities but did not get them closer to the killer. For example, they knew they were looking for an intelligent and probably magically adept Undead. Something capable of hiding its tracks from the Temple’s Arcane Wards.

You are reading story The Homunculus Knight at novel35.com

Iron-Teeth had insisted on being involved every step of the way and, in the process, had learned a great deal about the Temple of Master Time and its duties. Apparently, each of the Ten Temples protected the city from a different threat, with Undeath suitably being under Master Time’s purview. A job the Temple took seriously and was apparently pretty good at.

Massive wards covered the city, designed to repel lesser Undead and trap their masters. While the Temple kept a team of Rest-Bringers, who worked hand in hand with the Ivory Tower to crack down on Necromancy in Vindabon and Norica. These were just some of the more impressive resources the Temple could muster. Unfortunately, most of those resources were busy facing the Army of Skeletons and their Vampire masters in the southeast.

Leaving Iron-Teeth with an overtaxed Temple barely capable of keeping up with the Funerary demands of a large City. Still, despite all this, the Temple had proved far far more cooperative than the Ivory Towers and the city government. With them scrounging up what they could to help him. Leading to Iron-Teeth's current location and nervous frustration.

The Guard-Captain and his inner circle were standing in the Arch Sanctum of the Temple of Master Time. A huge domed chamber large enough to fit a normal town’s temple easily. Twin arches stretched over the Sanctum creating the dome, while bands of colored glass filled in the empty space. Creating a hypnotizing pattern of shrinking circles that met where the arches intersected. A huge piece of polished black stone hung down from the dome’s peak on a long silver chain. Creating a pendulum the size of a bull Frosthorn.

Numerous grottos lined the Arch Sanctum’s walls. Each devoted to a different Saint or Hero of the Temple. The largest, of course, belonged to Saint Mira, the only figure with shrines in all ten city Temples. The walls between the grottos and doors leaving the Arch Sanctum were covered in murals depicting important events throughout history. While the floor was broken up by ten small pits. Each was ten meters across and ringed by small stairs. The pits were only two steps deep and were each a ritual space. A silver circle marked the bottom step and divided the pits from the rest of the temple.

Iron-Teeth stood at the top of one of these ringed stairs, looking down into the pit below him. Below him, half a dozen Priests and Priestesses were hard at work. They’d lain lines of salt and ochre onto the granite floor of the pit. Creating mesmerizing patterns and glyphs. Now they each stood equidistant from each other, forming a six-sided star as they murmured words in Saint-Speech.

The nervous Guards watched as the seventh member of the ritual walked around her elder colleagues. Mina, dressed in a white robe, held a bowl in one hand, and an unlit oil lamp in the other. As she whispered incantations, Mina pulled items from the bowl and dropped them into the center of the circle. Most were vials of some black fluid, with a Soot-stained Rag and what Iron-Teeth swore was a molar the exceptions. Once they were placed, Mina held up the lantern, and the chanting grew louder and louder.

Iron-Teeth felt some cold pull dragging him towards the ritual circle. Like some titan of frost was sucking in a breath and hoping to pull him into its maw. He glanced at Darvy and Cat-Eyes, seeing they were also feeling it. Darvy had his feet spread out like he was trying to keep his balance. While Cat-Eye’s eyes were wide in what might have been fear. The sensation grew worse and worse as the chanting reached a crescendo.

Brilliant silver light burst from the lantern Mina held, and its light cut through the air like million shining blades. Iron-Teeth flinched back from the light. Feeling its unyielding power press against his very soul. The light started to dim, taking on a slightly bluish hue as it did. Matching a mundane lantern in intensity, if not color.

A shaky Mina, still holding the lantern, left the ritual pit and nodded to Iron-Teeth. “We got it. I can get us close, then we can activate the binding.”

Iron-Teeth actually smiled then, metallic teeth reflecting the blue light. It had taken nearly a week of planning and cajoling for this moment. Now finally, he’d get some results. Vindabon was a city under constant threat of Vampire infiltration. Its wards could do much to stave off lesser Undead but had a more difficult time with more intelligent monsters. If a clever Undead horror didn’t use any of its magical powers and kept on the move, it would be difficult to locate. To compensate for that weakness, the Temple had created the ritual Iron-Teeth had just witnessed.

Shutting her eyes, Mina focused on the lantern. Letting her mind touch the intricate spell woven into it. Information flowed into her from the City’s wards. Instantly she found what she sought. Eyes flying open, silver-blue light dripping from them, she yelled. “IT'S NEARBY!”

The Guards moved into action. Mina, flanked by Iron-Teeth and her superior, a Senior-Priest named Morri, left the Arch-Sanctum. Collecting the three squads of Guards waiting at the Temple’s exterior. Iron-Teeth, Darvy, and Cat-Eyes grabbed their weapons from the Guards, and Morri pulled out a surprisingly large Mace from beneath his robes. Following Mina, they rushed down a side street near the temple and found a small Inn.

Pausing for a second, Mina sucked in a deep breath. “It's on the third floor, second door on the right. I’m going to activate the binding now.”

Iron-Teeth looked at the thirty-strong force he had. “Here’s the plan. Darvy and I will go in first, with Priest Morri backing us up. Cat-Eyes, you and Mina circle around back with Dorick’s squad. You watch all the exits and signal us if anything tries to run.” Rolling his Krazkrak between his hands, he added. “Remember, we don’t know what we’re dealing with. Play this safe and stay close to the Priests. Got it?”

A small murmur of confirmation went around, and Mina put her hand over the oil lamp's strange flame. Instantly snuffing it. Black smoke billowed out from around her fingers and formed into the shape of Runes as it faded. Mina’s eyes lost their glow, and in their place was fear.

“Sir, whatever it is, it's powerful,” she whispered. “The binding will hold, but whatever we caught, it’s dangerous.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, Iron-Teeth pointed to his two fastest Guards. “Rake, head to the Fourteenth District Station and tell them what we’ve found. Andria, head to the Twelfth and do the same. Get them to send that Battlemage of theirs.”

Then the raid began. A big quarter-Orc Guard named Temir shoved open the door and bellowed in his brassy voice. “HANDS UP AND FINGERS SPREAD! THE CITY GUARD IS HERE!”

Two dozen or so early patrons looked startled. They quickly complied. Ensuring no weapons or spells were at the ready. The Guards piled through the doorway and charged towards the staircase. The Innkeeper screamed a mixture of questions and obscenities at them as they went. Reaching the third floor, they found the room in question. Iron-Teeth didn’t even slow down but slammed his weight into the door. The lock splintered, and the Dwarven Captain roared out a battle cry.

“LEX AETERNA!” The motto of Guards and Judges the Continent over in Old Imperial. Behind him, his troops answered in Western. “THE LAW FOREVER!”

Entering the room, Iron-Teeth’s eyes widened in surprise. A monster of ruined flesh stood before him. Two meters tall, covered in horrific scars, was a deathly pale Flesh-Golem. Behind the monster was a nude woman on the bed twitching. Iron-Teeth felt a mixture of elation and horror. The monster wasn’t bound, but they’d stopped it from taking another victim.

Any other emotions or insights had to wait as Iron-Teeth realized what the Flesh-Golem held, a huge dwarven-steel halberd. Somehow the idea of this thing using something his people made only enraged Iron-Teeth further. “COME ON, YOU BIG BASTARD! THIS HAS BEEN COMING LONG ENOUGH!”

The Flesh-Golem roared and swung its weapon. Iron-Teeth rolled beneath the strike and came up with his krazkrak, the weapon's hammer side reaching for the monster’s kneecap. The Flesh-Golem dodged but didn’t see Darvy’s spear coming. The speartip rammed into the Flesh-Golem’s chest, catching on a rib. The Monster didn’t even notice, spinning its halberd’s haft and cracking Darvy on the chin. Teeth went flying, and the Lieutenant stumbled back. Three more guards took his place alongside the Priest. Swinging his weapon again, Iron-Teeth brought it down on the Monster’s foot. This got a scream from the Flesh-Golem as its barefoot took the hammer blow.

Guards piled in, each swinging their weapons at the stumbling Flesh-Golem. Many hit, and it barely reacted. The halberd struck out towards Iron-Teeth, the Dwarf coming in closer to catch the shaft on his side instead of the axe-head. Even through his breastplate, it snapped two of his ribs. Seeing Iron-Teeth fall to a knee in pain, Temir the Orcblood roared and charged in. Dropping his club, he went to grapple the Flesh-Golem, whose weapon was busy fending off four different spears. With its free hand, the Flesh Golem reached out and grabbed Temir by his beard and swung the hulking Orcblood like a sack of produce. Temir’s head met the bed’s frame with an ugly crack that splintered wood.

Iron-Teeth took the distraction his subordinates had created and went for the Flesh-Golem’s knee. The blow connected, and cartilage audibly crunched. The monster collapsed to the ground, its leg unable to support its weight. Looming over it, Iron-Teeth raised his weapon high and prepared to splatter the walking corpse’s brain all over the carpet.

“STOP!” bellowed a voice from behind him and silver light came with it. Iron-Teeth whirled around to see Senior Priest Morri holding up a magically shining hourglass pendant. Looking at the Flesh-Golem, the Priest asked incredulously. “Cole? Is that you?”

Grunting in pain, the Flesh-Golem answered. “Morri? What in the Infinite Hells is going on!”

Confused, Iron-Teeth looked back at the Flesh-Golem and blinked in surprise. With the haze of battle fading, he realized the “Flesh-Golem'' was breathing and bleeding. He wasn’t Undead but the single most scarred person Iron-Teeth had ever seen. This Cole fellow looked like he’d been sewn together from scraps. Pulling himself up to his feet, using his halberd as a walking stick Cole looked over the Guards. Confusion and worry in the scarred man’s eyes were replaced by anger.

“What have you done to her, Morri?” he hissed. Confused by the giant’s words, Iron-Teeth looked at the girl on the bed. While he much preferred a stout Dwarven gal to any long-boned human lass, Iron-Teeth had to admit she was perhaps one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever seen. Looking past his initial assessment, he saw the thrashing woman was unnaturally pale and covered in dark runes. The same type of runes the Lantern’s smoke had made.

Things clicked into place, and Iron-Teeth pointed his krazkrak at the thing on the bed. “IT'S HER! She’s the Undead!”

Cole hobbled between Iron-Teeth’s outstretched weapon and the creature in his bed. Glaring at the Guard-Captain then at the Priest, he said. “Again, I ask what you are doing here Morri?”

Morri approached the creature, still holding his amulet high, its light shining down on the she-thing. The monster started to spasm and thrash harder as the light got closer. Lightning quick, Cole grabbed the amulet and shut his fingers around it. Blocking out the light. Morri hardly noticed, too busy looking at the fangs present in the girl’s mouth.

“What are you doing with a Vampire?” Morri hissed. The old priest jabbed an accusatory finger at Cole.

Grimacing, an expression that stretched his many scars, Cole looked at the now very nervous guards in the room. Shuffling over, he wrapped up the Vampire in the blanket to preserve her modesty, before answering. “It’s a complicated story. One I’ll be happy to tell in the privacy of the Temple and once whatever binding you cast is undone.”

Iron-Teeth growled. “Bugger that! I have nine innocents dead and a bloody Vampire loose in my District.”

Cole looked to the irate Dwarf, and understanding dawned on the scarred man’s face. “The murders? You are here about the murders?”

“YES!” spat Iron-Teeth. “I don’t know what connection you have with Morri. And I don’t care, I’m bringing you and the Vampire in.”

Cole leaned against one of the bed posts and let out a breath. “I can’t do that, Guard, but I can tell you we had nothing to do with these crimes.” before Iron-Teeth could snarl something in response Cole continued. “We just arrived in the city. We’ve been on a barge for the last two weeks and on the roads of the Southern Marches for the two months before that.” Sliding down a little onto the bed, Cole added. “You can check with the Stream Skipper’s crew if you don’t believe me.”

Just then, Iron-Teeth realized the scarred man was bleeding badly. He’d taken a dozen spear hits and half a dozen other ugly strikes. Morri went over to Cole and put a hand on the worst of the wounds. Murmuring a spell, Morri’s hand glowed, and wherever it went, pink skin covered Cole’s wounds.

“These will probably scar, but I don’t think that will bother you much,” the Priest remarked

Cole snorted in laughter, weak laughter. “No, it won’t, but I’ll be okay. Undo whatever spell you cast on Natalie.”

Morri shrugged. “I can’t without harming her. But it will run its course in twenty-four hours.”

Cole seemed to accept that as Morri continued the magical healing. “The knee will need someone better than me to fix it. But I should be able to make it usable.”

Iron-Teeth came over to the Priest and Scarred-Man and asked. “Who is he, Morri? How do you know him?”

Bizarrely the old priest looked to Cole for permission before answering. Upon getting a nod, he looked to Iron-Teeth and answered. “This is Cole of Atredia, Paladin of Master Time.”

Iron-Teeth and every other (conscious) guard in the room took an involuntary step back at that. Few people inspired more awe or fear than a Paladin. The true Knights of the Gods, they were harbingers of Doom. Only appearing when the Gods themselves needed to intervene.

Scratching at his beard, Iron-Teeth sheepishly remarked. “Sorry about the knee Sir Paladin.” pausing for a second, he then added. “And the foot as well.”

Standing up, Cole brushed off Murri. “Make sure none of these Guards are badly wounded. I’ll be okay.” turning to Iron-Teeth he said. “Call me Cole, no need for titles. What can I call you?”

“I’m Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth. Captain of the Thirteenth District Guard and currently no step closer to finding my killer. While also getting myself neck deep in shit involving a Paladin and Vampire.” he answered

The Paladin actually smiled at that and offered his hand to Iron-Teeth. Before they could shake hands the clatter of footsteps pulled everyone's attention to the door. Where a confused City-Warden Alia Cat-Eyes, had arrived. A small crossbow crooked under one arm, a dagger in her other hand. Alia looked around the room and asked. “What the Hells is going on?”

Iron-Teeth grunted. “A false lead and a whole mess of trouble. Hey! Didn’t I tell you to stay out back and watch for trouble?”

Cat-Eyes shrugged. “You were taking too long; we were getting nervous. So I elected to come and find out what was happening.”

After a second, the City-Warden sniffed the air and asked. “Why does this room smell like sex?”

All eyes went to Cole and then the twitching Vampire. A blush came along the pale-skinned Paladin’s face, and he muttered to Morri. “Maybe it's a good thing you can’t wake her.”

---

A dressed Cole wrapped Natale up in a blanket, grabbed both of their packs, and started down the stairs to the inn lobby, Trailed by two dozen guards in various shapes of injury. While Cole had been focused on Captain Iron-Teeth, he’d also managed to get glancing blows on most of the other Guards who’d piled into the room. Morri had managed to patch them up, but more than a few were nursing tender spots. The Orcblooded guard had a nob the size of an egg on his head while Lieutenant Darvy was stuck carrying two of his teeth.

Auntie Alissa and the remaining patrons gawked at the strange procession as they passed by. Cole stopped, went over to the Innkeeper, and put some bronze coins on the bar. “For the blanket, I assume you can bill the City over the damages to the room?”

Both Cole and Alissa looked at Iron-Teeth, who grumbled in confirmation. The annoyance the Dwarf showed made Cole feel a little better. While he knew intellectually, the Guard Captain had just been doing his job. Getting hit in the toes with a bloody hammer was enough to sour even Cole’s attitude some.

The streets were empty and dark. Heavy cloud cover and the season had robbed the city of any natural light. The glow of windows and street lamps the only source of illumination. No one except the strange procession was on the streets either. Alissa was right, it seemed, people weren’t willing to brave them with a killer on the loose. As they approached the Temple, Guards broke off from their awkward parade. Returning to posts across the district, seeking further medical treatment, or just going home for the night.

Leaving Cole, the unconscious Natalie, Morri, a Priestess named Mina, Iron-Teeth, and a Werefolk woman apparently named Cat-Eyes. The odd group entered the Temple through a side door, Cole taking time to check on Natalie to make sure the Temple wasn’t harming her. She was still twitching occasionally, but other than that, she seemed reasonably fine. Morri took them down cold, clean hallways illuminated by pale Glowstones until they reached a spare chamber with a bed and desk.

The old Priest sat behind the desk and gestured for Cole to set the Vampire on the bed and for everyone to sit in the chairs scattered about the room. Gently, Cole set Natalie down, glad to see her eyes weren’t rolled back anymore. Sitting on the bed next to her, Cole looked to see everyone in the room looking at him. Morri looked annoyed, Iron-Teeth frustrated, Mina confused, and Cat-Eyes bored.

Sighing, Morri glared at Cole. “So do you care to tell me why you, a Paladin of our God, is not only traveling with the enemy but sleeping with it?”

“Her,” Cole corrected. “And as I said, it's complicated,”

Iron-Teeth grunted. “Not if it's any different from how Dwarfs do it. A little in and out and boom, a new generation of younglings born in fourteen months.”

Cole glared at the prickly Guard-Captain. “I mean no offense, but the information related to this is sensitive. I’d prefer to only share it with my fellows of the Temple.”

Iron-Teeth massaged his patched ribs and bit back. “If you are going to be staying in Weinstadt, you are my problem. You smell like trouble, Paladin. I need to know exactly what type.”

Morri shrugged and ran his fingers through his receding gray hair. “The Captain has a point. You brought a Vampire into his district without informing the Temple or the City. Whatever is going on, it's best if we’re all on the same page.”

Grimacing, Cole looked back to Natalie. He could trust Morri; in fact, he’d been the Senior Priest he intended to meet upon arriving in the city. They’d met when Cole first came to Vindabon nine years ago. Morri being Cole’s chief connection to the wider Temple organization. If Morri vouched for this Iron-Teeth that should be enough, but Cole still disliked the idea of sharing everything that had happened with a stranger. Especially one that had smashed his bloody toes.

“Alright, I’ll share what I can,” Cole said. “About three months ago, I was in the Blood Duchies. Trying to pick off Undead where I could and looking for information about a certain Vampire. In the process, I was Called to a small town in Zaubervold. Something bad was brewing there, and I got involved.”

Nodding back at Natalie, Cole continued. “She helped me, and I-”

Iron-Teeth interrupted Cole, “Wait-wait-wait? A Vampire helped you? A Paladin of Master Time?”

Finding himself increasingly annoyed with the Captain, Cole explained. “She hadn’t been turned yet. Which I would have explained if you let me. But yes, she was a local human who helped me. See, one of the local ‘Nobles’ had gone rogue and was amassing an army of dangerous Undead. I started hunting them, and Natalie’s knowledge of the area proved crucial. So when the rogue Vampire got wind of me, he attacked us both. Natalie was infected, and I was captured.”

Cole had told Morri many things, but his immortal nature wasn’t one of them. So he skirted over some details. “My hunt got us both caught up in the local power struggle. This rogue Vampire was trying to supplant his Sire and steal a powerful… artifact. The artifact was somewhat bound to the Sire and his bloodline, and it needed a new host. I couldn’t let it fall into the usurper's hands, and the Sire was dying. So a third option was required. Natalie inherited the artifact, and we killed the Usurper and most of the local Vampires.”

Stunned silence filled the room at the matter-a-fact way Cole described cutting his way through a dozen Vampires. Cole continued, not noticing the shock. “If she were to die, the artifact would…well, it would cause problems. Having her host its power while being in my custody was the best option available. Master Time seems to agree. So we left the Blood Duchies to come here. The goal was to hide her in Vindabon from any pursuing Vampires and try to gather information about the artifact.”

Morri clicked his tongue in disapproval. “You should have come to the Temple straight away and avoided this whole mess!”

Cole shrugged. “We planned to make contact after settling in at the Final Flagon. Both Natalie and I were concerned about how the Temple might react, so we agreed I’d come here by myself before bringing her.”

The Catblood Werefolk woman snickered. “Settling in? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

The Priestess Mina playfully slapped Cat-Eyes’s side and gave Cole an apologetic look. Iron-Teeth spoke then. “I have some questions. Like, for one, what possessed you to try and smuggle a bloody Vampire into the city. Especially one hunted by the Arch-Leech's minions?”

A little confused, Cole said. “Precedent. She wouldn’t be the first Vampire to seek asylum here.”

Iron-Teeth's granite-gray eyes bulged in anger. “You can’t be serious! There aren’t any Vampires in Vindabon, not until you brought your pet one!”

Cole looked at Morri and raised a tattered eyebrow. The Senior Priest cleared his throat, and Iron-Teeth looked his way. A stunned Mina spoke. “Elder Morri, you can’t be serious?”

Morri absently started playing with his hourglass amulet as he spoke. “The Paladin is correct. It's something of an open secret in certain circles. Vindabon is home to a small population of Greater Undead who, by some means or another, have proven their value and loyalty to the city.”

Iron-Teeth snarled at the old Priest. “You’ve been hiding this from us this entire time! Why did you bother with the bloody Lamp ritual if we could just round up the Monsters already in the city? We’ve been scouring the city for Undead, and you have a list of them!”

Giving Iron-Teeth a warning look, Morri explained. “We servants of Master Time are not exactly pleased with this arrangement, but we abide by it,”

Cole spoke up then. “We do more than that, actually. The Temples of Master Time and Sister Sun are tasked with keeping the ‘Refugees’ in line. I find it doubtful any of them are behind your killings. They have too much to lose and are watched too closely.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, Iron-Teeth remarked. “I’d still like to take a look at these ‘Refugees.’ It's the only lead we’ve gotten from this whole useless night.”

Clearing his throat, Morri interrupted Iron-Teeth's worries. “Actually, that might not be strictly true.”

The Senior Priest gestured to Cole. “One of the premier Rest-Bringers on the continent is here. If anyone can help you track down the killer, it will be him.”

Iron-Teeth started to object, while Cole just shut his eyes in acceptance. He knew what was about to happen. The pieces were falling into place. Morri cut off Iron-Teeth. “The Prince’s Court and the other Temples would not react well to the knowledge one of our Paladins smuggled a Vampire into the city. While they might act directly against Cole, they would certainly move to have the Vampire executed or entombed.”

“However, the presence and support of a Paladin in the city, especially one who has done the city a service in stopping these killings, would be enough for this Natalie woman to be accepted as another Refugee.”

Letting out a sigh, Cole murmured an old saying favored by the devout and the paranoid. Categories he both belonged to. “Coincidence is the God’s domain.”

Morri smiled. “Exactly, I don’t think it's mere happenstance that all of this has occurred. Master Time has taken an interest in helping us here in Vindabon. His Paladin is here to aid you, Captain Iron-Teeth, and with him are the Tenth Temple’s resources.”

Getting up from the small bed, Cole rolled his shoulders and knelt before Iron-Teeth. Any annoyance at the Guard-Captain vanished behind the mantle of duty. Intense ice-blue eyes met the Dwarfs, and the Paladin of Death spoke. “Guard-Captain Arkaz Iron-Teeth, will you accept my aid in this endeavor?”

Looking into those cold hard eyes, Iron-Teeth felt a tiny flicker of fear. Some long-buried instinct telling him he was in the presence of something great and terrible. The scarred warrior bent on one knee before him was bound and armed with terrible purpose. To fight and die as a God demanded against every manner of horror that threatened the World. That idea frightened Iron-Teeth more than any Flesh-Golem or Vampire could.

Jerking his head in a nod, Iron-Teeth accepted with an old Dwarven saying. “Aye, I’ll add your Steel to my Armory.”

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