The once prosperous town of New Karindi had become little more than a macabre ghost town. The corpses of many great warriors lay strewn about. A sea of white tabards draped the landscape. The Draculites laying before me had fought long and hard. For every one of them lying about dead, there were two or three of Acre's acolytes impaled upon their weapons. The battle had been a close one for sure.
If only I had been quicker.
I had stepped off of my horse to more thoroughly examine the damage, when I heard the familiar sounds of a struggle coming from down the road. My boots bore loud noises as they crunched over the chainmail laden torsos of the corpses. By now the blood of my comrades had soaked my boots, and the lubrication made my sprint even more difficult than it already was on this treacherous and morbid terrain.
I rounded the corner of a lodge to see a circle of crusaders prodding at something with their weapons. I let loose my Langes from her scabbard, and the dawns light gleamed from her blood groove. The blood soaked mud would not detriment me this day. With all of my momentum, I picked my legs up off the ground, and slid forward, ducking under the swing of a poleaxe. My blade wrought havoc upon the mans leg, and he fell forward, clutching at the severed tendons. Now apparently pissed off, the others descended upon me. I scampered up onto my feet, but as I did, a well placed blow to my hand knocked my sword from my grasp. A foot came hurtling towards my abdomen. I grabbed the boot with both of my hands, and twisted the mans leg half circle. With a loud snap, his bones popped out of place and ripped out of his flesh at awkward angles. As soon as I could turn around, another blade swung upon me. I propelled my fist upward, deflecting the blow with my gauntlet. A wound up punch from my right hand then made love to his face, and scattered his teeth throughout the mud. A quick elbow followed, striking his temple, and it sent the back of his head whirling into the stone wall of the building behind him. His body slumped down the wall, a vibrant streak of blood tracing his descent.
Yet another blade was slung at me, a longsword no less. I jumped out of its initial arc, and while ducking down I drew my langes from the ground. An overhead strike soon followed, but I was ready. I parried the blade away, and sent my foot forcefully into the longswordsman's knee joint. He lost his footing, and I buried my langes messer deep in his clavicle. The blade pulled out with a slurch, and blood spewed from the wound. The pommel of my langes met his forehead with a loud crack. He hit the floor like a sack of hammers.
Severed Leg Man(TM) writhed about the floor in pain. I stuck my sword deep into his sternum, pinning him to the floor, and twisted the blade deep through his flesh. His comrade had made it a few meters away from me, crawling through the mud like a dying dog. I curb stomped his contorted leg, and he yelped in great misery. I then hefted him up against the wall and held him by his shoulders. The expression of fear on his face was a priceless thing in deed. I could feel the fear in his eyes. What a brilliant idea it gave me. I forcibly plunged my thumbs deep into his eye sockets, and continued applying pressure until his pathetic screaming had ceased.
I could hear a gasp coming from behind me. I turned to see a fellow Draculmancer laying on the ground before me.
It twas Necrowave, the leader of this expedition. I knelt over him and held his shaking head still. His mouth opened, and he spat a tablespoon of blood. "Deltah, pull it out."
"This is no time for your eroticisim, you asshat." I replied.
"I meant the crossbow bolt."
Sure enough, a well aimed bolt lay stuck in his groin. No doubt a trademark shot of the infamous dbrookz.
I grabbed ahold of the shaft, and pulled the sucker out.
"I suppose no more late night romps with the lads for you then, my brother."
He chuckled. "You can't get rid of me that easily. My phallus was too small of a target for the bolt."
If he wasn't bleeding to death in my arms, I would have slapped him.
"So, Coach, am I gonna make the big game or what?"
I slapped him anyway.
By now, my staff had finally caught up with me. They marveled at the mayhem that lay in my wake.
I called for one of my captains. "Go get the Apothecary and tell him to bring the salve of herbs from the Old One's garden." He rushed off, post haste.
"You think you can keep your lights on till he gets here and patches your ass up, Necro?"
"Only if you twiddle my noodle while we wait," he replied.
I let go of his head and stormed off to go get my Langes.
The rest of my personal guard and lieutenants stood before me, anxious for orders. I pulled the blade out from the corpse, and held it up to the dawn.
" Tonight their hearts will quake with the sound of our boots. They will know fear. For we shall drag these self-righteous sons of bitches down to hell, and show unto them the true meaning of Christmas."
