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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 2728962" data-attributes="member: 22792">Chapter 5: Nightfall Part IIHmmm...anyone think I should call this an update rampage?  <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f600.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":D" title="Big grin    :D"  data-smilie="8"data-shortname=":D" />And Halforc Halfbiscuit, I couldn't agree more--but I think it makes for good writing/reading <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f609.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=";)" title="Wink    ;)"  data-smilie="2"data-shortname=";)" />~Fune-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The warlock smirked into the night.  He shifted slightly for a better footing; the hill he stood upon was covered in a week’s worth of heavy rain.  The grass had been forced down into the muck beneath, fornicating with the mud until it had become a slippery mass of gunk any human would’ve had problems traversing.Rhynos was no human, though.His scowl increased with the passing of minutes, with old memories long lost to the time-devouring darkness.  Lillith had been correct about that at least:  Time meant nothing in the darkness.  Years had passed, was it five, ten or twenty?  Rhynos couldn’t say for sure.  Existence had become mindless and numb—as numb as his unnatural body.  Of course, slavery must seem mindless to the slave, he thought.He bent down, stretching the tips of his fingers out into the dark.  The familiar pain tingled and danced through the tips just as the flesh parted to the ragged, bony daggers.  The wounds quickly healed, another benefit of this damned body.But then the hunger—the demonic, never sated hunger—clawed at his breast again.  It was always there, always lurking beneath the false surface of human flesh and bone yearning to be unfettered.  Yearning to devour the world whole.  It awoke every time blood was near, living or dead, it did not discriminate.  Now, it craved Rhynos’ own blood, the few droplets he had sprayed into the mud-cloaked earth.He focused, pushing the craving down and away from the here and now, away from his task.  A scent drifted upon the night air—a putrid, death-filled scent of rot and immortality—but it was a scent only an animal or Rhynos would notice from so far off.  Another vampire.  Another beast bold—or stupid—enough to tread upon Lillith’s demesne.  Another notch on Rhynos’ near-infinite list of kills.The warlock shot upward, his legs extended fluidly and launched his body higher than any possible mortal.  Silently, his body passed through the tight branches above, each sliver of wood bent away momentarily as if afraid to catch plague.  He pierced the prison-like crossing of branches and landed upon a sturdy limb without a single scratch upon his perfect body.Waiting for the walking corpse to near, he dropped into a sitting position and continued to traverse his mind’s memories.  Memories of being naught but Lillith’s servant and occasional lover.  Memories of being a beast in the dark, death incarnate for so many.  The memory of Lillith whipping him incessantly and her light, airy laughter mocking him as the many open wounds sealed closed again.  But there were memories of his life before; leading so many men in the King’s useless army.  Not that there were that many men in his unit—mainly goblins, orcs and the halfbreed orcs.  “No, my life is better now,” he determined.  “Or would be if…”.  The idea was ludicrous—so insane it just might work.  If he could be free of Lillith, yes this life would be worth living.  But he would need to enlist the aide of a priest—no minor task for a creature with his proclivities.Rhynos spun backward over the limb, an unconscious reaction, and plummeted again through the branches that avoided his form.  The beast—the vampire was below now, a perfect target for his hate, rage and constant hunger.  But, he wouldn’t let it take him from his thoughts.There is a town not so far from here—his ragged bone claws pierced flesh, wrapping—along with his fingers—around the beast’s collarbones.  His feet slammed into its back and with an immediate kick, he flipped forward.  The vampire shrieked as Rhynos’ momentum shattered its bones and launched it easily into the air.And there is a priest and priestess—husband and wife, if I recall correctly.  The warlock closed the eighty-foot gap in less than two blinks of an eye, his target howling in fear, anger and agony.  Rhynos’ claws flared green—channeling the energy he had always been connected to—as he launched into a flurry of blows to throw his opponent off its guard and push him back.They could help—but the planning alone would take years.  Rhynos’ left arm slammed through the sternum—piercing the bone, atrophied flesh, and black heart.  The vampire screamed futilely as the warlock used his right arm to snap its neck.  He leaned it, the beast’s healing slowed, and jabbed his fangs through its neck.Cold—yet still invigorating—blood flooded his mouth.  It, the vampire, twitched and tried to yelp.  Rhynos just wrapped tighter around it, drinking in every potent drop of its unlife.  After a few moments, Rhynos detached himself.  The body of his foe was quickly turning to a well-sculpted pile of ash, a monument that would blow away with the first kiss of a breeze.  He stood, turning toward the small down and stalked forward—his path set.Time means nothing in the darkness.</blockquote>

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