Apostles of Doom

Verigas felt a deep-seated gnawing begin in his gut. This was no wolf; no beast had done this! This could only have been the work of a vampyr, or perhaps a vampire. However, from his limited understanding of the undead, the savagery would lead him to suspect a vampyr.

Verigas grasped at his chest, pulling his Sword and Shield of Tiernon amulet outside his robe. Did he have Holy Water? He grasped at his belt in vain. Who carried vials of Holy Water around with them outside of stories?

Now he could see before him what had to be the monster’s trail. Disturbed leaves and twigs, spattered with drops of blood, leading further into the forest and uphill. Cold fascination took hold. Despite the pleas emanating from the back of his head, he knew he had to see, had to confront this monster!

Verigas marched forward, following the trail upward and further into the darkening forest. Suddenly he heard the sounds of fighting. Heavy breathing, muttering and snarls of low rage came from a clearing up ahead. Verigas proceeded cautiously to the edge of the clearing.

It was a clearing at the base of a large rock formation. A giant boulder, perhaps thirty to forty feet in diameter, surrounded by smaller rocks and boulders as well as rock fragments. The fragments appeared to have fallen from the top of the boulder. This was made more obvious due to the fact that the large boulder was riven in twain, as if split by an axe, or perhaps lightning; the shattered pieces of stone lying scattered at the base of the large rock.

A scream of rage drew Verigas’ attention to the battle below the rock. Vampyr! He had been right; there was a tall, thin, ragged vampyr snarling viciously, exposing its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. The vampyr and its opponent, a good-sized woman wearing the habit of a Sister of Tiernon, were circling each other in battle.

The vampyr lunged, swiping with its deadly sharp claws, and the Sister of Tiernon dove to the left far faster than one would have imagined. This threw the vampyr off-guard, and it overbalanced. It stumbled, trying to recover even as the large sister dove towards the vampyr’s chest, both hands wrapped around a large dagger radiating the Grace of Tiernon.

The Sister plunged the blade into the vampyr’s breastbone with what had to be incredible strength and shouted, “By the power of Tiernon, I condemn thee to eternal damnation! To true death! Return to haunt the living no more! By the power of Tiernon, I end thy vile Unlife!”

There was a flash of bright light and suddenly the vampyr exploded! It burst thunderously into a spray of bloody gore that splattered Verigas’s white robes. With a start, Verigas realized he was only about ten feet from the Sister and where the vampyr had been.

The large woman was clearly winded. Her hands, the right still gripping the hilt of the blade, rested on her knees as she bent over, trying to recover her breath. Verigas shook his head, suddenly glancing up to the riven rock, where a full blood-red Uropia was perfectly framed at the top of the split. As if a dark ruby in a setting.

“Verigas?” the woman suddenly asked.

It took Verigas a moment, but he suddenly realized that the Sister had be the legendary vampyr slayer Hilda of Rivenrock, who had perished some four hundred years ago defending the Orphanage of the Sisters of Tiernon at Riven Rock. When he had first heard the story as a youth in the seminary, he had spent several nights in terror under his covers.

“Verigas.” Saint Hilda was standing up now and looking directly at him. How could that be? He had never even been to Riven Rock. He had no idea where it even was.

“Yes,” Verigas replied, still in shock over what he had witnessed and at being addressed by a saint in a dream. Dreams were generally not this lucid. Verigas felt a new chill run down his spine. This dream — he knew it was a dream now — was just a little too lucid.

“Where are you?” Hilda asked.

“Keeper’s City in Oorstemoth,” Verigas replied.

“Why are you there?” the saint asked.

“I’m here to support the Church’s mission, our alliance with Oorstemoth.” This really did not make much sense. Why would a long-dead saint from Eton want to know why he was in Oorstemoth?

“What is the purpose of the alliance?” Hilda asked.

How would a saint not know about the holy mission? Verigas wondered.

“Uhm, to rescue Talarius, Knight Rampant of Tiernon, and bring to justice to the foul fiend who abducted him and caused untold damage to the Church, the Rod and Oorstemoth. To ensure that the foul creature who dared to steal Tiernon’s Holy Mana can never do so again,” Verigas said.

Verigas blinked at the expression on the saint’s face. He could not quite determine what it meant.

“And how exactly do they propose to do this?” the saint asked.