Jared moved through Ulundin’s busy shanty streets, passing between rickety stalls and shelters. Hawkers shouted their wares for all to hear, competing with the calls of others. A Chaos Legion patrol walked by and Jared paused. He watched as they were eventually lost among the busy hive of activity further along the street where a team of pickpockets worked on a blissfully unaware merchant.
Another pair of soldiers appeared nearby, separated from the main patrol and dallying beside a food stall. Jared cursed beneath his breath. They were going to make him late if they tarried much longer. He grabbed the arm of a young boy and pulled him close.
“See those soldiers over there,” he whispered. “I want them out of the way. There’s a piece of silver in it for you.”
The lad’s eyes widened, first with fear, changing quickly to greed when payment was mentioned. Jared slid a silver coin into the boy’s hand and waited.
Quickly gathering his friends, the boy pulled them into a huddle. Seconds later they dispersed and encircled the two guards who were taking food from a frustrated pedlar and scoffing their faces in front of him.
“You should pay for that, you bully!” the boy shouted as his companions set to work on the distracted soldiers, lifting the money pouches from their belts.
“Clear off, you little gutter rat,” a soldier replied, “or we’ll take you to the dungeons for a good thrashing.”
The boy’s face split with a cheeky grin. “I haven’t done nuthin’. You should be more bothered about that lot that just lifted your money pouches.”
The soldiers hands dropped to their belts in unison, followed by angry cries when they realized their money was gone. The stall owner hid a smile as he watched their discomfort with delight.
“You’ll catch ‘em if you’re quick!” The boy ducked behind a small wagon and quickly disappeared.
Jared chuckled as the soldiers charged along the street, shouting at the children and bawling at anyone who got in their way. Waiting until they were swallowed by the milling crowds, Jared continued across the street, flanked by his two bodyguards.
The entrance to Amberstone Burrow was a discreet affair. If you blinked, you’d miss it. A small alleyway between ruined buildings on either side that had been decorated with an untidy mess of boards and canvas, vaguely resembling shelters. Jared nodded to the guard in front, who was disguised as an old beggar in a filthy cloak, as he moved into the alley. He followed the path downwards, the ground quickly dropping away. Gradually the stench of squalor left him, and the air was filled with a pungent scent of incense. Turning a corner, the narrow passageway was suddenly lit with bright lights, pulsing steadily in the shadowed gloom.
Jared stopped. “Ahh, the Amberstones,” he murmured, a smile cracking across his wide snout. “I never tire of watching their show.”
Large, chiseled blocks of amber held tall display tanks filled with water on either side of a broad door. A fanged medusae floated in each tank, slowly bobbing in the still waters and gently throbbing with a variety of neon lights.
“Now aren’t they a marvel?” Jared whispered to one of his bodyguards. They did not reply. “They create such amazing patterns of light when they dance.”
After an appreciative pause, he continued towards the doorway. As he got closer, the medusae saw him and darted about their tanks. They flashed a myriad of colors, long tentacles flailing behind them. He could see the silent rage behind their eyes, the indignation of being held captive outside the den of their enemy. Jared didn’t care. In his opinion, it made his expensive living trophies even more enchanting to behold, adding a certain opulence to the hidden den he’d built following the Chaos Legion’s invasion.
Rapping twice on the door, a shutter was whisked to the side and bright eyes appeared in the gloom. “Evening, Mr Scar. Won’t be a moment.”
The sound of sliding bolts filled the alley, and the door swung inwards allowing him entry. He walked into the room beyond, followed by his bodyguards. The door closed shut. The bolts slammed back into place.
A robed man met him in the hallway and produced a scroll. “It would seem that not everyone could make it, my lord.” The man squinted at the parchment in the low light.
“Is Baron Kutziq Neculai here?” Jared asked.
“Yes, my lord,” the attendant replied.
“And a representative from the Bloody Envoy?” Jared flicked an inquisitive spider from his ear.
The man paused briefly, scanning the document. “Yes, my lord. Venator Kinjo himself is here.”
“Then that is all that matters for now. One battle at a time, Oswald. One battle at a time. The others will fall into place. Have faith in that.”
“Yes, my lord.” Oswald bowed low, moving aside to let Jared pass.
The hallway led into a corridor lit by oil lamps positioned in hollowed alcoves. Shadows crept around the walls as Jared passed them, almost as though they were trying to avoid the bulk of the Ulund. He paused at the next doorway, hearing the noisy clamor beyond. It sounded like the meeting had already started, and the ill-feeling literally crawled under the door to assail him. He shook his head and pushed the door open.
Silence fell about the room, and heads turned to see who had arrived. Jared did a quick count—four out of the seven invitations had been answered. It was better than no one he supposed, though the disappointment still niggled at him.
“Friends,” he greeted, his arms wide as he walked to his chair at the table. “How good it is to see you all here. I hope my servants have seen to your needs?”
The Tide Biter Captain, Tilden Paine, leaned back into his chair and gave a wide smile before taking a generous sip from a golden chalice. His pirate frock coat shifted, revealing his cutlass beneath. Jared recalled the tale of the great sea battle his friend had won the infamous blade in. “When haven’t they, old friend?” He smiled, blood staining his teeth.
Jared looked to the Blood Maker, Kninker Paabkut. The gnome ignored him, toying with a small gadget, a puzzled look on his face. You would have been forgiven for thinking he had recently been struck by lightning, his hair was so wild and unruly–a shock of orange against the white robe he wore.
Venator Kinjo, meanwhile, glared at Baron Kutziq, eyes unflinching. Kinjo’s monk’s habit was well pressed and neatly tucked into a woolen belt, but there wasn’t a single muscle that didn’t look taut and rigid though. There was tension between the two of them, of that there was no doubt. The Baron might have tried to hide it, sitting casually in his own exquisite robes that were probably more expensive than the chandelier that hung above him, but Jared could see right through the façade. He noted the vampire’s long, sharpened nails finger-tapping the table, looking more like an eagle’s talons waiting to snatch its prey. It would seem that the eternal feud between the Bloody Envoy and vampires had not improved.
“Jared Scar,” the Baron started, his red eyes simmering beneath a heavy brow. “It has been a long time since we last spoke.”
Jared sat in his chair, offering a warm smile in memory of the long summer nights he had spent at Kutziq’s vineyard villa in the Blackworth hills. “That it has Baron, that it has.”
“I must say, I was not expecting a vampire to be present at such a meeting.” Kinjo interrupted, the disgust clearly evident in his voice, his gaze still fixed on the Baron. “The order of the Bloody Envoy would not be pleased if they were to hear we are sitting at the table with our enemy.”
“You are privileged to sit at a table with a pure blood. You should think yourself lucky, food trough.” The Baron smiled, showing his long fangs.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen.” Jared’s voice interjected. “Let us put aside our differences, for there are more important matters at hand.” Silence once again fell over the room. “As you all know, Praetoria has suffered greatly during the recent conflict and we now live under the yoke of this Legion of Chaos that believes it has the right to rule us. Many Praetorians have died as a result, and I have been told the situation is just as dire throughout the other continents,” he paused to let the weight of this information sink in. “It is time we came together, vampire and dhampir alike, and take up arms against this usurper. Each of you holds a great deal of weight among the circles you move in. I see a perfect opportunity where we could become the tiresome gnat that harries and infuriates its foe, striking at them and causing bedlam before sliding away into the shadows.”
The high-pitched laughter of Kninker danced about the room. “Fight the forces of chaos?” he asked, looking up from his gadget, the high lapels of his robe flicking his long braids across his shoulders. “How is a ragtag band of dhampir and vampire misfits supposed to fight back against the chaos hordes that have assembled on our world, may I ask? I think you’ve been drinking too much unicorn blood, Mr Scar.” The gnome pushed his chalice away with the back of his hand, turning his lip up at it, a crazed expression in his eyes. “Why don’t you employ some of your battle mages from the arena, maybe they could haunt the enemy with their conjured specters?”
“Just the sort of response I’d expect from a Gnome. He’s probably not been paying proper attention, Jared, too taken with fiddling with that gadget of his no doubt,” Tilden scoffed, tapping the side of his head with a finger. “Small things please small minds.”
Kninker glared at the Captain. “And this is what scurvy can do to a man, muddle his brain and addle his wits.” He turned his glare upon Jared. “You really expect me to work with that? Besides, you’re worrying about nothing. This Chaos Legion is no problem, we stay out of their business and they stay out of ours.”
Jared was about to answer when Kinjo jumped in. “The Bloody Envoy will never work alongside a vampire. They are a scourge that should be wiped from the Splinterlands. They carry their affliction with pride, passing it on to the innocent and infecting them with the curse. They’re really only leeches that feed from the weak and should never be trusted.”
Baron Kutziq stood, sending his chair clattering to the floor behind him. “How dare you speak of my line with such disdain. I would suck every last drop of blood from your pathetic body if it wasn’t such diluted gutter water. Just give me an excuse to snap that brittle neck of yours, please…say another word.”
“Enough!” Jared bellowed, his face red with anger. “I did not bring you here to watch you spar like the recruits in my gladius. This problem is about as real as it gets. We can either work together or be slowly killed, one by one.
“Kinjo, you think the legion scum will let your organization continue to operate now it has won? They will root you out and crush every one of you. And Baron Kutziq, your lineage may stretch back to the beginning of all time, but it will have no room to flourish in a future filled with chaos.
“And you pair,” Jared turned on Tilden and Kninker. “If you don’t put your elemental differences aside, you’ll end up doing the Chaos Legion’s job for them. Who’ll have the last laugh then, eh?!
“The Scarred Hand pledges its service and numbers for the greater good, to fight these invaders and start to take back what’s ours. There are those out there that can’t fight for themselves or their families. Think on that. Who is going to protect them?”
“I hear what you say, Jared.” Kinjo rested his elbows on the table and pressed his fingers together looking across at Kutziq. “But the people are just cattle to the likes of him. He won’t care what happens to them.”
“My people are everything to me, the loyal citizens live under my protection,” Kutziq snarled between his long fangs. “They have minds of their own unlike the enthralled chickens and rats you monks feed upon.”
Jared slumped back into his chair and looked up at the exquisite chandelier he had acquired from a Khymerian merchant. He had placed too much hope in being able to control such a meeting, let alone steer its members in the same direction. The despair began to feel very real as he heard Tilden and Kninker join the argument. He closed his eyes and desperately sought a solution in the subliminal darkness, but there was nothing there apart from the seed of a headache that was threatening to grow into yet another problem for him. He would give it one last attempt.
Opening his eyes, he was about to speak when he caught movement on the upper balcony that circumvented the vaulted domed ceiling and stone statues. Moments later something fell onto the center of the table and exploded with a hiss of black smoke. Before Jared knew it, the assassins surrounded them, dropping from the balcony with curved blades and baying for blood.
The monk Kinjo jumped from his chair, unleashing a thundering kick into the chest of his foe, sending the assassin staggering back. Then the outline of the monk flickered, and he vanished from sight, leaving his assailant standing in shock.
“Typical monk, fleeing when the enemy attack!” Kutziq shouted, vaulting over the table with surprising speed for one so ancient. He fell upon one of the attackers, brushing the blade aside and sinking his fangs into their neck before ripping their throat out. Two more appeared behind him. He spun around, grappling with one whilst the other tried to stab him.
Jared reached forward and snatched the man’s leg from beneath him. The attacker quickly stopped trying to kill Kutziq and turned his attention to the hulking Ulund. The exchange was brief, as Jared slammed his giant fist into the man’s face, smashing it to pulp. He tossed the body to the side as Kutzip got the better of his own opponent.
“You scurvy dogs,” Tilden barked, cutting with his blade and opening the belly of his opponent as another dashed in and sliced a dagger across his shoulder. The pirate rammed the cupped guard of his cutlass into the attacker’s face before picking him up and throwing him across the table. The assassin landed hard but rolled and came to his feet, ready to rejoin the fray when Kinjo suddenly appeared behind him, flicking a wire garrote over his head and pulling tight. The man’s feet flailed about, knocking chairs over and banging against the table.
Kninker darted in front of Jared and let up a high-pitched shout. “Take cover!”
The gnome threw a small device into the air, its fuse whipping about, hissing like an angry snake before the gadget opened with a dull clunk. A net flew out, expanding in the air and catching another assassin as he jumped at Jared. It pinned the assassin against the wall, the sharpened metal braille lines tightening and slowly slicing through his body as he cried out in pain.
Jared looked around, clenching his fists and searching for any more threats, but the attackers were all dealt with. His hall was a bloody mess. He tensed as a narrow oval door leading to the balcony above, opened with a creak. It was only a bodyguard of his, though, and she came through hauling a cloaked figure behind her.
“There is your proof,” Jared spat his fury.
“Proof of what?” Kninker frowned.
“The proof of the danger we are all in!”
Jared turned as the captive was dragged towards him, legs desperately kicking against the stone flags. His bodyguard grabbed her quarry with both hands and threw him into the empty seat. Her counterpart appeared with a rope and looped it around the wriggling intruder, securing him tightly in place.
“They attack our gathering and try to murder you where you stand and you question me?” Jared grabbed the hood of the cloak and drew it back over the head of this new arrival. He rested both his hands on the arms of the chair and looked directly into the creature’s red eyes. He had never seen them before, only heard of their subterfuge. Dark purple skin covered its shaved head and a protruding lower jaw revealed sharp, canine teeth that curved upwards.
“He has no weapons,” his bodyguard said confidently.
“Hmph,” Jared grunted, “apart from his silken voice.” He backhanded the agent, striking it in the mouth and shattering his jaw. He turned back to the table. “This is what I was talking about, my friends. The Chaos Legion are everywhere. The threat is real. Why would an agent of chaos be loitering in the dark shadows of the Burrow? To report back to his masters of our demise maybe?” He pointed a finger at each of his guests in turn. “Every one of you had his card marked today. With their attack foiled, you would have been followed from this place and your homes revealed. Not one of us is safe while this conquest continues.”
“Yes. This is most disconcerting.” Kutziq wiped the blood from his mouth and rejoined the others at the table. “But you brought us here, right into the midst of it, Jared Scar. They wouldn’t have known who I was before today.”
“Are you truly that naive, Baron, to believe they didn’t already know of you?” Jared asked. “But yes, I summoned you all here for this meeting and now you have been marked. Would the Chaos Legion have left you alone if we never would have met? Maybe? But any of you want to take that chance? We are dealing with a very powerful and dangerous enemy. I believe it was only going to be a matter of time before they came for all of us.”
“And by putting us all in the same room together, you just sped up the process,” Tilden noted.
“There’s no turning back now,” Jared said gravely.
“If I were to join you, I know there are others of my kind that will not.” Kutziq looked at Jared and paused.
“That will be a decision that they must live with, for we will eventually be triumphant, of that I have no doubt.” Jared looked over to Kinjo and waited patiently.
“We are not known to work with others,” the monk started. Shifting light from the still swinging chandelier highlighted the red mark of the Bloody Envoy on his forehead. “But neither are we an order that would stand by and let the Praetorian innocents needlessly die. When I speak with our abbess of what has happened today, I believe she will direct our efforts towards a common goal,” he looked back at Kutziq. “And I’m sure one of her mandates will be to dispose of any vampire that joins with our enemy.”
Kutziq slowly eased himself back into his chair. “In war there are always sacrifices that must be made. I would not prevent you from such an undertaking.”
“Good, good.” Jared clapped his hands together enthusiastically. “And Tilden? Kninker? How about you?”
Tilden rolled his shoulders, shoving aside the dead body from where it was slumped across his chair. “Nobody attacks me like that and gets away with it. They’ll rue the day they tried to take my life. I’ll string every single one of them up on my yardarm and leave ‘em hanging for the gulls. I’ll even fight alongside this fiery little gearhead.”
Kninker grimaced and shook his head as Tilden sat down next to him. “As much as it pains me, I will fight with the water lovers. I cannot simply stand by and watch my brethren get slaughtered.”
“Excellent.” Jared’s passion echoed about the chamber. “We should seal this agreement in blood.”
Snatching his fallen chalice from the floor, he flung the remnants across the table and held out his hand. The bodyguard moved forward and handed him her knife. He moved to stand before the prisoner.
“Do…what you will…gro—tesque monster,” the agent drooled blood down his chest, his broken jaw clicking as he spoke. “Your wwwworld…is deeaaaddd.”
Jared stooped to the agent’s level and looked him in the eyes. “Our world hasn’t even started yet—you piece of filth.” And he drew the knife across the creature’s throat, catching the blood in his chalice as it sprayed from the wound.
“With this offering.” Jared spun around to face his guests. “We will pledge allegiance to one another, to fight and begin the long journey that will one day purge this chaos disease from our land.” He drank from the vessel before handing it Kutziq.
“My kin will stand with you, Jared Scar.” Kutziq drank deeply from the offering before sliding it across the table to Kinjo with a wry grin.
“Alas, I am only permitted to drink from the blood of beasts, but I shall mark our allegiance with this union.” And he dipped his fingers into the blood, tracing the gore across the symbol on his forehead. “The Bloody Envoy will stand with the Scarred Hand and its allies.”
Tilden took the proffered cup and handed it to the gnome with a respectful nod. Kninker received the chalice and lifted it to his lips, taking a delicate sip.
“The taste is not to my liking.” He wiped a sleeve across his mouth and quickly handed it back. “But I will speak with my people and with our agency, Talon and Gorst. The gnomish Blood Makers will fight with you, may our gadgets maim the enemy and send them fleeing in terror.”
Tilden gave a hearty laugh and gulped down the remainder of Jared’s offering. “They won’t know what hit ‘em. Chaos blood will run like a river through Praetoria and both dhampir and vampire will drink their fill.”
“My friends.” Jared lifted his arms. “Not only have we made a stand against the tide of chaos today, but we have brokered a pact never before heard of in the history of our peoples. There is much pride to be taken with you from this moment. Now go. Speak with your assemblies, and rally your houses, for tomorrow is a new day, when our small but deadly thorn will be pressed deep into the side of the Chaos Legion and their nightmare will begin.”
Collect special Limited NFTs related to this story at https://www.splintertalk.io/nfts/
Credits:
Story: Daniel Beazley
Editor: Sean Ryan
Narrative Lead: Joey Shimerdla
Character Art (cover): Candycal
Illustrations: Aleksandra Shiga
Graphic Design: Tamer "Defolt" Oukour
Voice Acting: David Dahdah
Ending credits song: AfterSound
Music/SFX: Blaudiss
Audio Manager: Isaria
Post Production: Ian
Creative Director: Nate Aguila
