The Homunculus Knight

"Knives, spears, axes, these are pretty trinkets, but none of them make you a warrior. A warrior doesn't need tools of worked iron and sharpened stone. He, like any true craftsman, merely needs a mentor. To learn to be a warrior, to be a killer, look to the masters of that art. No, not me, you daft boy! I've spent a mere lifetime taking lives. The true masters have been plying their trade since before the mountains were born. I speak of the crocodile, for they are murder perfected. See them and know what strength is, what any warrior should aspire towards." - words of Jedkare, a paragon of the Scaled Brothers martial order.

Hierophant Morri had always stressed that when fighting a vampire, one must be keenly aware of the enemy's physical superiority. Mundane muscle and bone simply can't compete with the raw power and endurance available to even a young leech. So any restbringer who hoped to survive, let alone win against the undead, must be cautious and resourceful, scrounging up every advantage possible. Traditionally, holy magic and an extensive education on the different kinds of undead were the most potent of these advantages, but Mina Vrock now believed allies were just as important, particularly if the ally in question was a pissed-off catblood with very sharp shortswords.

As another volley of onyx flechettes cut through the air towards Mina and Alia, the city warden jumped up and towards the right, springing nearly two meters into the air, and then kicking off the nearest tree trunk, turning herself into a shadowy blur. While the priestess had seen her girlfriend clamber up buildings and leap between rooftops before, this new display of agility was something else. In less than a second, Alia had shot herself through the low canopy, bouncing between bough and branch before landing right next to the surprised vampire. Clearly, the leech was also used to having a decisive physical advantage.

Blades flashing, Alia went low, aiming for the vampire's leg, but it regained its composure and spun away, using its bat arm to deflect Alia's follow-up attacks. All while this was happening, Mina traced patterns in the air with her mace's glowing head, drawing an arcane array. Normally, she preferred 'pure' casting without runes, as it gave her better control over the spell, but with her attention busy with the warding barrier and other workings, this would simplify things. As the last swirling line of the sigil settled into place, the silver sparks making it up suddenly condensed into a sphere of white fire that lanced forward towards the vampire.

Focused on Alia's assault, the leech barely noticed this new threat in time. Twisting its body beyond what any mortal might manage, the vampire avoided the brunt of the attack. Still, what little grazed the monster didn't go unnoticed. A high, inhuman shriek escaped the vampire as a strip of skin and muscle along its lower back turned to ash.

Literally leaping at this opportunity, the city warden lunged at the vampire, ready to sink steel into its chest. But unfortunately, their opponent wasn't some spoiled courtier and didn't lose nerve so easily. The veins running along the vampire's giant bat fingers exploded then, sending out a web of black blood that filled the space between digits with an oily film. Alia's blades stabbed into the pseudo-membrane but didn't puncture. Now it was the catblood's turn to frantically dodge as a ruby-hilted rapier came her way.

The sound of metal striking metal cut through the night, and Alia tumbled away. Rolling to her feet and retreating back towards Mina, the catblood clutched at her chest. There was no blood, but her uniform had been torn open, revealing one of the small steel plates sewn into the garment. Mina took a mental note to thank Captain Ironteeth for making sure his subordinates were always well equipped.

"Bitch stabbed me in the tit." snarled Alia as she rubbed her injury.

"I think she was aiming for your heart."

"Yeah, well, she can't have it. So any ideas how to deal with Batty over here?"

Holding her mace up, Mina whispered a prayer. "The light of faith spreads through our deeds; let our actions fan the flame and inspire others to take it up; and woe to any who'd snuff it out, for our righteousness burns hot!"

The mace shone brighter, and Mina held its tip out. "Touch your weapons to this."

It said a lot about the situation that Alia didn't jump at any of the opportunities for entendres and instead complied silently. Silver light spread along the twin shortswords' blades, cloaking them in a faint nimbus. Holding them up, Alia smiled and flourished the blades, leaving trails of sparks in her wake.

"Now, even if you can't cut her, you can still burn her," muttered Mina as she readied more spells. Unfortunately, she wasn't alone in preparations, as the vampire hadn't given them the time to regroup out of the kindness of its dead heart. Two new limbs now extended from the monster's shoulder blades. Like the first mutant arm, these additions resembled skinned batwings, except each finger had far too many joints and ended in a needle-sharp tip. Glancing between the vampire's rapier and the ten new killing edges haloing it, Mina got a sinking feeling in her gut. A vampire duelist was already bad enough without a phalanx of extra blades at its disposal.

Glancing between the monster and Mina, Alia whispered. "So, uh, what else have you got?"

The priestess paused, looking at the swords she'd just enchanted. Despite training to be a restbringer, Mina had never specialized in the signature offensive spells of her temple. Instead of cryomancy or entropic attacks, her talents lay in defense and support magics. A fact that had gotten her assigned to the Vindabon city watch, instead of more traditional duties. But that didn't mean she was useless in a fight, far from it in fact, especially if she had capable allies.

"Hold still."

Knowing she'd only have moments to do this right, Mina crouched down and put the head of her mace into the dirt while holding her free hand up in the air. Preparing and casting two spells simultaneously wasn't easy, but Morri always said anyone who couldn't even manage that wasn't cut out for being a restbringer. Fingers splayed against the night sky, Mina shouted a bellicose line of scripture. "A second Sun rose upon the sands, and where its light touched, the corruption was banished!"

A sphere of silver fire manifested in her palm and shot into the air, growing in size and luminosity as it did. The riverbank copse became a mix of deep shadows and blinding light, exactly as Mina intended.

Seeing the sphere of light, the vampire leapt back, clearly fearing a scouring detonation. But that wasn't the spell's purpose, instead, the shining sphere gently hovered in the air, above the vampire like a tethered lantern. Floating six meters in the air, the globe shone bright as the noonday sun, but its rays did little more than irritate the leech's eyes. Originally meant for signaling and marking, the spell made an excellent distraction.

Using the moments bought by the sphere, Mina moved in a wide circle, dragging her mace through the loam around her and Alia. Once she finished, tongues of blue flame erupted from the furrow, forming a ring of holy fire around the pair.

Eyeing the flames, Alia muttered. "Okay, so I take it she won't be crossing that anytime soon."

In answer, she gently pushed her girlfriend to her knees, keeping one eye on the vampire as it cautiously tested the sphere harassing it. Placing a hand on Alia's head, the priestess cast another spell.

"The saint laid her fingers upon the shepherd boy's brow, and she washed away his weariness. Blessed by the cleansing light, the boy ran night and day, warning his kinsfolk of the roused wyrm."

Alia chuckled. "An endurance charm, that'll be useful."

As the magic settled onto the catblood, Mina continued casting. "Behold, Tilius, who walked through the forest of knives in answer to the Sidhe's challenge and emerged unmarked."

This would seal most cuts the vampire inflicted.

"Staring into the Seraph's mask, the sinner wept, for within its silver depths he saw the truth of himself and it was ugly."

The air around Alia started to shimmer slightly, somehow resembling both a heat haze and icy vapor; now looking at her directly wouldn't be easy.

Letting out a nervous laugh, the recipient of all these spells said. "This feels weird. I've never had so much magic cast on me."

A little way away from them, the vampire had decided the sphere wasn't a threat and was cautiously stalking towards them. Mina was confident in her ward work, but didn't want to give the enemy time to test the circle's protection; the little reprieve earned by the false star was over.

"We need to finish this quickly, I can't keep these spells powered forever."

Nodding, Alia got up and brandished her shining blades. "Got it."

The vampire stopped its slow approach and spoke. "You aren't from the barge. Who are you?"

Alia smiled and stepped out of the circle of flames. "I'm the next owner of that nice rapier of yours."

Both the city warden and vampire became murderous blurs, charging each other with primal aggression. The air whistled and cracked as lightning-fast blows cut through the night. This time, there was no clash of blade and bloody bone; both combatants dodged and danced around each other, each clearly unwilling to risk even a glancing blow.

Mina watched the duel, seeing how her false star bobbed through the air, sending wild shadows careening around the woods. Keeping it and all her other spells active was difficult, and the priestess doubted she'd have managed the feat back at Vindabon. Adversity had honed her skills; there was no denying that, but would her new strength be enough?

For her part, Alia held her own, an incredible feat considering her opponent had a sixfold advantage in weapons alongside all the other dark boons afforded vampirekind. Mina wanted to be proud of both her girlfriend and the magic she'd worked, but growing concerns wouldn't allow that small joy.

Fighting the undead to a standstill was more often than not just delaying defeat. The vampire could fight until it ran out of blood, and there was no telling how many stolen lives filled its cistern. So, unless Alia could land a decisive blow, this stalemate would inevitably default to the monster. As much faith as Mina had in her partner, she wasn't willing to gamble both their lives on a lucky strike against such an opponent. Alia needed an opening, and the priestess had a few ideas on how to make one.

Swallowing down a nervous lump, Mina took up her amulet, holding it up as she prepared yet more spells. Eyes shut, trusting in both Alia and her wards, she prayed. "The tribe fled across the broken steppes, guided by the new star that hung low in the sky."

The Aether thrummed with barely contained power as the priestess channeled Master Time's might into this newest spell. With a loud whoosh, the circle of flames grew taller, fed by the excess energy cascading off Mina. Opening her eyes, she found the false star and stared into its blinding radiance. While the spell had made an excellent distraction, that wasn't the only reason she'd cast it. Created for battlefield use, the working was meant to signal allies and mark enemies; it achieved this by creating a beacon that shone on both sides of reality. Just as the bright light caught the eye in the Mundane, its arcane mass attracted kindred magics in the Aether.

Amulet glowing bright, Mina drew a ten-pointed star with it, each tip coalescing into a crackling mote of sanctity. Then with a thought she loosed, sending a volley of shooting stars right at the vampire. All ten bolts whizzed through the air, leaving trails of mist as they shot towards the shining sphere and then changed directions at the last moment, raining down upon the vampire like an archer company's perfect volley.

The leech brought some of its limbs to bear and tried to swat the oncoming projectiles from the air. Where each mote struck, it burned like holy oil. Unliving bone and hardened blood broke as it froze and ignited at the same time. Six of the falling stars were spent against its wings, and the remaining four went for the monster's chest. Twisting to the side, the vampire avoided three; these were unable to turn in time and splattered against the ground in a plume of frost, but the last reached its target. Silver fire flashed as the vampire's shoulder was struck.

Reeling, the monster tried to pull back, but Alia didn't let it. Shining knives flashing, the city warden struck out, taking the vampire at the wounded arm's elbow and then stabbing it in the gut. A severed forearm tumbled to the ground, its hand still clutching the ornate rapier, while icy ash sprayed out from the leech's belly. But the vampire wasn't finished; it contorted its abdomen, somehow yanking Alia's blade free from her hand and then bringing its giant claw arm up to bare. Multi-jointed fingers as long as spears wrapped around the city warden, cocooning her in an oily black wing membrane. Alia tried to turn, to use her other blade to cut herself free, but the vampire was incredibly fast and brought its wing down on the ground, once, twice, thrice before hurling the city warden at Mina.

"FUC-"

The priestess didn't have time to swear before her girlfriend's bleeding body smashed into her, knocking them both backwards and into the warding flames, breaking the circle. As the defensive spell guttered out, Mina quickly flipped Alia onto her back and let out a gasp of shock. More than a dozen onyx darts stuck out of the city warden at different places, bloody shrapnel imparted by the wing when it enveloped her. Working quickly, the priestess started to remove the worst of the darts, letting soothing magic flow into the wounds. Thankfully, when combined with the blessings already heaped upon Alia, the injuries were shutting quickly.

"I've killed dozens of priests and paragons in my time, but you two have proven exceptionally annoying to deal with," growled the vampire as it stalked closer, using its bladed arm to excise the smoking flesh touched by Alia's enchanted knife.

Somehow still conscious, the city warden let out a gurgling laugh. "Not… Not even a paragon, you stupid winged rat."

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Trailing ash behind it, the vampire finished its amputations and approached them, face contorted in a vicious snarl. Mina held up her amulet, letting power flow into it. The monster flinched but then said. "I'd stop that if I were you."

Alia let out a pained shriek as one of the darts sticking into her leg suddenly lengthened, driving itself deeper into her body.

Head cocked to the side, the vampire mused. "It missed the femoral. She's lucky. Now put away your trinket before we see if her luck holds."

Letting out a shuddering breath, Mina complied, hating how she kept getting into this same fucking situation. Apparently, Alia was thinking similar things as, between ragged breaths, she managed to mutter. "Deja vu. Least no geas this time."

Squatting down beside them, the vampire levelled its remaining blades at the pair as it spoke. "You two fought well, so I'm going to offer a little mercy. Answer my questions truthfully, and I will kill you both cleanly. If you refuse, I'll get what I want through more… complicated means."

Rivulets of black blood pooled along the vampire's wing tips, congealing into a series of wickedly sharp hooks. "Do not make me hurt you more than I-"

The vampire froze. Its eyes wide in shock as a wet sound split the night. Something was pressing out of the monster's chest. It was the end of a blade.

As the leech collapsed into a bundle of still limbs, both priestess and city warden stared up at their savior. Looking even more stunned than the vampire she'd impaled was a trembling redhead; her hands still clutched around the hilt of the dagger buried in the vampire's heart.

Voice high and tight, Yara Algal half-whispered, half-whimpered. "My mistress wouldn't want you two to die."

A laugh exploded out of Alia, and she slapped her hand against the dirt, cackling madly. This was enough to shock Mina out of her surprise and get back to work healing her girlfriend. Moving quickly, she plucked the last of the darts free just as Alia said. "Well damn, I think the rapier is yours then."

Cole's breastplate rang like a gong as he tumbled backwards head over heels. Snagging a gnarled root with Requiem, he arrested his momentum and managed to roll to his feet, just in time for a bloody cloud to lunge at him. Swinging out with his frost-wreathed halberd, he cut through the sting-tinged vapors, forcing the monster hiding within them to roll to the side. Staying low to the ground, the moroi lashed out with twin knives, trying to take Cole in the ankle tendons. In answer, Cole lunged forward with a brutal kick, striking the vampire in the face as its spoiled strike clanged against his armor.

With an annoyed yelp, the vampire exploded into a cloud of red mist and swirled about Cole, staying close enough to obstruct his vision, but not enough to be affected by the cold radiating off him. Before the paladin could prepare a countermeasure, a scaled leviathan pounced at him through the cloud. A long, many-toothed snout clamped around Cole's forearm and bit down hard enough to make his armor groan. Then the world became a blur of shadows and smoke as he was spun about and slammed into the ground.

Shoulder socket smarting, Cole tried to get his bearings just as a bipedal crocodile landed its full weight atop him. Before he could even reclaim his stolen breath, the paladin took two anvil-cracking punches to the chest. Armor humming, frozen flesh creaking, Cole managed to bring his weapon up into a guard, deflecting the third punch. Then, with his free hand, he put a wild haymaker into the crocodile's snout. A few teeth sprayed across the dirt, and Cole brought his knee and hips up, dislodging the grappling monster. As both hulking warriors scrambled to their feet, the moroi struck again, driving a dagger into Cole's back and then vaulting over him.

Having had enough of this acrobatic bastardy, Cole managed to catch the vampire's hand and yanked him into a vicious headbutt, driving the glowing hourglass on his brow into the leech's nose. Before the strike could do more than break cartilage, the vampire dissolved again into mist, quickly reforming next to his strigoi colleague.

Groping at the patch of ashen necrosis that had been his nose, the vampire squealed. "Wy mi ace!?"

Cole, meanwhile, reached for the dagger stuck into his lower back. It had slipped between two armor plates but not gotten very deep, having been stopped by his cold-hardened flesh. Snapping the blade over his knee, the paladin discarded the jeweled hilt and prepared himself. The purified power of preservation was flowing through his body and armor, making him incredibly durable at the cost of offensive potential. Cole couldn't channel entropy into himself or his weapon without disrupting this improved elemental casting. Deborah had said with time he'd managed such twinned workings, but for now, he was restricted to preservation, mundane cold, and what little sanctity his holy symbols might invoke. Still, the increased efficiency of his magic was giving the paladin new options

Taking a breath, he poured more of his soul into the cold of preservation, wreathing himself in bitter clouds of icy vapor. All around him, grass froze and soil hardened as the air turned arctic. Pushing off the crunching ground, Cole charged the moroi, bringing Requiem down in an overhead chop. The vampire dissolved into mist, but Cole simply stepped into the reddish fog, the cold surrounding him rapidly drying the air, covering the forest floor in thick hoarfrost and forcing the moroi to reform awkwardly.

Before the paladin could capitalize on this, the strigoi reentered the fray, fanged snout open wide, clawed hands seeking purchase. Redirecting his halberd, Cole tried to decapitate his foe with a broad horizontal stroke. To his utter shock, the vampire didn't dodge or parry but brought its head to bear, snapping its jaws shut around Requiem's head. Twisting about, the vampire yanked the weapon straight out of Cole's hands before coming around with a spinning kick that caught him in the hip. Stumbling from the blow, Cole brought up his guard, taking two more punches on his armored forearms, each knocking him slightly off balance. Scaled hands wrapped around his hips then as the strigoi picked Cole up and slammed him back onto the ground with enough force to crack the frozen earth.

Looking past the stars dancing in his vision, the paladin saw the strigoi pause to extract the halberd stuck in its mouth. The vampire had stopped the weapon through sheer bite force, but not before some damage could be done, and now bits of ashy flesh and shattered teeth fell away as it discarded Requiem. Gripping onto its ragged snout, the strigoi pulled on both jaws, peeling them back like some oversized scaly hood to reveal a ritually scarred face wearing a fanged sneer.

"You alive, paladin? I can't normally use that move on mortals, they go splat," growled the strigoi.

The moroi stalked closer, daggers ready. "If you're going to play with him, Faiyum, then at least share."

"Bah, you had your chance, Diego."

"I didn't expect him to be immune to my sting," replied Diego, with a dismissive sniff. "Now let's peel him out of that armor and see what one of the Enemy's servants is doing here."

Cole started to struggle to his feet when Faiyum the strigoi exploded forward, bearing him back to the ground in a vicious grapple. Scaled hands wrapped around the paladin and started to twist his right arm out of its socket. As Cole struggled against the vampire's strength, it cursed in an unfamiliar language before saying. "Like trying to snap a steel bar. Your magic makes you tough, paladin."

Yes, it certainly made him tough, but he'd prefer to be lethal. The icy cold surrounding him was freezing Faiyum's scales, but not fast enough to really damage the vampire. Cole thought about simply giving up on Deborah's technique and returning to his old method, but with three potent vampires to face, he couldn't surrender the advantages in durability and efficiency conferred by it. Looking around desperately for any way to turn the tables, the paladin's eyes settled on his halberd lying nearby.

Left hand pinned to the ground, Cole started to frantically flex it, activating the enchanted runestone Rellim gave him and slowly dragging Requiem closer. Unable to use his arm's full strength, all he could do was force the weapon to scoot over the ground, centimeter by torturous centimeter. Then, right as the tips of his fingers brushed the haft's bottom, a leather boot kicked the halberd away.

Smirking, Diego said. "Clever bit of telekinesis, but a tad obvious. Now, Fayium, could you hold his jaw open so I can flow into him. We'll see how resistant he is to my sting once it's all he can breathe."

Cole was running low on options; he needed to turn this situation around quickly. Perhaps he could switch the polarity of his powers and expel the magic within him, freezing himself and these two leeches to death in one great burst of entropic cold? No, he needed to stop with the suicide attacks and grow beyond the ideating idiot whom Master Time took pity upon. But even as he dismissed the notion of summoning entropy, part of his idea refused to leave him. So far, he'd only used preservation internally, reinforcing his body, dulling pain, nd generally staying alive. But why couldn't he direct some of that power outwards? Perhaps in a more damaging way?

Fingers scrabbling, Cole wrapped them around Diego's boot, his mind busy with old, painful emotions. All this time, he'd thought of preservation as a thing of protection and order, but it had another side to it, one kindred to entropy itself: stagnation. In an ever-changing world, those who stay the same are always left behind, just as Cole had let himself be for five years. He'd wasted half a decade, playing at being a shitty restbringer, when the world needed a paladin. Grasping onto those thoughts, of the memories of long, lonely treks where he wallowed instead of lived, Cole poured some of the magic infusing him into the vampire.

"What the!" cried Diego as ice spread up his leg. Squeezing harder, Cole felt the undead muscle and bone beneath his fingers become hard and stiff as stone. The moroi tried to pull back but tripped over his now frozen foot. Not letting go, the paladin poured more power into both vampires, turning Fayium's grapple into a trap.

Clearly not a stranger to countermeasures, the strigoi released Cole and tried to escape the numbing cold, but it was too late. Arms and chest marred by patches of paralytic frost, the vampire attempted to stand, but found himself unable to. Watching as the pair of monsters fight their uncooperative body, the paladin gained a better understanding of exactly how chaotically he'd been using his powers. All those bursts of killing cold he'd been summoning were an unorganized morass of elements. The intended entropy and ice mixed in with stagnation, sanctity, and other concepts he was still grappling with. Sure, those attacks had been effective at the time, but now, now, Cole could do better.

Getting to his feet, the paladin summoned Requiem with a telekinetic yank, catching the halberd and stalking over towards Fayium. Staring up at Cole, the strigoi laughed, a rumbling hissing noise that itched at some deep-seated instinct Isabelle had left in the homunculus's brain. "If I ever intended to die, your hand would be a worthy one."

A spasm ran through the vampire's body, and Cole brought his halberd down, splitting Fayium's skull down to the throat. Dislodging his weapon, the paladin prepared to strike again, unwilling to face a repeat of Tallclaw, but before he could, something thin and fast poked out of the vampire's exposed esophagus. It was a snake, with mottled arrowhead scales and large, red eyes. Fast as lightning, the adder launched itself at Cole. The paladin swung Requiem, yet mistimed the blow thanks to the serpent's speed. But bizarrely, the snake didn't sink its fangs into his throat and instead sailed past him.

Spinning about, Cole caught sight of the adder moving towards the tall grasses; it intended to escape into the river.

"No you fucking don't!" growled the paladin as he drew and hurled Alia's gifted knife fast as he could. The snake juked and avoided the knife, but not Requiem, which came right after in the form of a hatchet. Cold steel split the back half of the snake's tail, and it wriggled forward a little more before a cloud of black and red mist erupted out of the wound, enveloping the serpent.

Fayium stood up out of the cloud, one leg sporting severe lacerations, his arms and chest covered in patches of stiff ice. Cole tried to summon Requiem, but the vampire caught the weapon mid-air. "That's the problem with using blades, you can always lose them."

Bending the bone-steel hatchet into a knot, the vampire tossed it behind him into the river with a loud splash. In response, Cole drew his boot knife and growled. "I carry spares."

Nodding in approval, Fayium said. "True, but I don't like your odds in a knife fight against Diego."

Cole glanced over at where he'd left the vampire in question, finding a severed foot sitting alone in an ice patch. Movement from above caught his attention then, and the paladin sidestepped as Diego came down from the canopy, short blades in both hands. Landing on his intact foot, the moroi lashed out with his blades, getting past Cole's guard and striking the gaps in his armor. Each cut barely got past the skin, despite the speed and sharpness involved, a fact that was clearly annoying the vampire.

"Going to need new knives when this is fucking done!"

Fayium skirted around the clash and came at Cole from behind, landing a punch right into his lower back, the same spot Diego had put a dagger earlier. That was enough to make even the paladin wince, and he shifted stance, trying to keep both vampires at bay.

The strigoi had changed tactics and with them his flesh. Heavy layers of armored scales covered Fayium's hands and forearms, giving them the appearance of crocodile-skin cesti. As Cole watched, patches of the thickest scales sloughed off, taking their frostbite with them, and being rapidly replaced by fresh growth.

Seeing the paladin's growing concern, Fayium smirked, revealing a mix of vampire fangs and crocodile teeth. "It pays to have allies, no?"

A noise split the night then, a harrowing cry that inspired bone-deep fear in most humans, but had the opposite effect on a certain homunculus.

The howl of wolves.

Shifting his grip on his knife, Cole answered Fayium's smile. "It certainly does."

Six spectral wolves exploded out of the underbrush, joining the fight in a whirl of ectoplasm and teeth. Diego turned to the oncoming pack, eyes widening as snarling jaws clamped around arms and working legs. Rushing the shocked moroi, Cole drove his knife towards the vampire's neck. Pinned by the wolves, Diego could only lean back from the blow, saving himself from possible decapitation, but not a dagger to the trachea.

With his free hand, Cole grabbed the back of Diego's head. A whistling sound escaped the moroi as it tried to scream, but it was too late. With one final jerk, the paladin yanked the vampire forward, letting the dagger sever his spine. With a thump and a hiss, the moroi's headless body fell to the ground and turned to ash. Pulling his knife free from rapidly disintegrating nervous tissue, the Paladin dropped Diego's soot-stained skull to the ground and turned to finish the fight.

Fayium was desperately trying to escape the wolves, who'd grown both in number and ferocity. Nine of the lupines harried the strigoi, sinking fangs into him and delaying his escape.

Cole stalked towards the vampire, reaching for his amulet as he did. Eyes flicking down at the shining hourglass, the paladin nearly paused his advance. Memories of the Alukah's screams and thrashing beat against the inside of his skull. Fighting down the pain that had left him reticent to use this trinket on a vampire, even a deserving one, Cole wrapped the amulet around the knife and joined the wolves.

Seeing the paladin's approach, Fayium let out a snarling bellow, loud enough to hurt Cole's ears, and swung a clawed arm into two of the pack, scattering them into swirling fog. There was a frantic desperation in the strigoi's movements, a fear that hadn't been present before. Lupus's arrival had shaken him; gone was the confidence of a seasoned killer, in its place was the fear of a predator out of its depth. Discovering Yara, facing Cole, and then being attacked by the wolves was a cascade of outside context problems. The paladin could almost sympathize, having suffered on the other end of this sort of madness before.

Stepping into the gap in the pack, Cole tried to block the vampire's escape. A snarl escaped Fayium, and his right arm visibly swelled with extra muscle. That was all the warning the paladin got, as split-second later, the strigoi unleashed an uppercut capable of turning mortals into mist. Cole caught it right on the breastplate and was sent flying, his armor ringing like a temple bell.

Bullrushes slashed at the paladin's back as he sailed through the air before landing in the river like a piece of broken pack ice. Dark water swallowed Cole, and he, in turn, struggled not to swallow the dark waters. Chest numb, lungs burning, he scrambled around in the churned shadows, trying to find some way to anchor himself. But instead of a sturdy stone or tough root, he grabbed something sharp enough to open new lines of frozen blood on his fingers. A waterlogged smile split the paladin's face as he clutched at his discovery, letting his new wounds rub along its warped metal surface. Requiem drank greedily, reforming itself back into a hatchet and then a halberd.

Driving his trusty weapon's bottom into the silty river bottom, Cole pulled himself upright. Surfacing with a spray of icy slush, the paladin trudged back towards the bank, arriving just as Fayium had broken free of the wolves. Covered in open wounds and ash, the vampire was wracked by constant spasms, having drained his cistern in the fight.

Reaching the tall grasses, the strigoi froze, eyes wide in shock as he saw Cole. One shoulder slumping, the other kept stiff by rigor mortis, Fayium rasped. "You kidding me?"

"Nope," muttered Cole as he swung out with Requiem, taking the exhausted vampire right at the neck.

As the second headless corpse hit the dirt, the paladin hauled himself onto dry land and then gave Fayium's ashen bones a few more strikes just to be certain. Trying not to sag against his halberd, Cole sucked in a breath and shouted. "Natalie?"

In response, the wolves clustered around him protectively. Scratching one behind the ears, Cole guessed his lover had sent her familiars ahead and was still a ways out. Noise from the nearby brush suddenly pulled his attention, and he leveled his halberd in that direction.

Mina and Alia came into view, the former supporting the limping latter. Behind them followed Yara, who wore a stunned expression and clutched an ornate rapier to her chest.

As Cole examined his allies, Mina let out a tired breath and said. "Well, that was horrible."