Conquest

Against all the odds, you found your left eye open, just a crack.

Blood splashed out of your cracked lips, seeping from the torn corners of your mouth. You lay buried in a furred mound… its slow laboured breaths made your back ache as you lay, partially sat up on the creature’s side.

You were unable to turn your neck to peer at whatever you lay on, but a huge wet snout nudged your cheek and yellowy hazel eyes gazed down weakly at you. Flora was still badly injured, regardless she could have ended you right then and there… but an altogether different threat had captured her attention.

Lady Morrigan picked herself up a few yards away, she was darting and looking around as if in panic.

The entire battle had been halted, by a sight beyond the realms of your most vivid imagination.

Planted deep into the earth, within a small crater which consumed the space that was once your driveway, was planted a colossal mass of intricate black stone.

Its image was profane, a rectangular slate carved with the frightening imagery of a thousand faces in their **** cries. Its edges glowed with an otherworldly power, etched with eldritch runes which hummed brightly before settling back into a quiet grey.

Upon its massive face was a great sigil, one which induced terror within all who were unfortunate enough to bear witness.

A gleaming scarlet dragon with four widely outstretched wings and twelve tails whipped in an all-encompassing spiral, upon the head of this dragon sigil was a crown black as night, blacker than obsidian.

Although this alone was enough to send shivers down your spine, because of what it implied… the true horror of this sudden arrival stood perched atop this huge mass; which drummed up imagery of a tyrannous gravestone.

Two figures stood upon the Gravestone. The sensation which blasted from their presence alone violated everything it touched. So thick and cold and cruel was the aura that oozed from them that you at once felt the strange urge to curl up into prone and pray for help.

Everyone else who inhabited this battlefield, were petrified… only for a moment.

“RUN!” Cried Regina grabbing her mesmerized sisters and going to flee.

A few werewolves snarled at the two figures but stumbled, like a dog baying in fear at a charging elephant.

Requiem and his Crusaders shuddered at the otherworldly pressure which consumed the space.

The Noxium did not even try to run, they were in a state of complete shock. “No… it… it cannot be…” You heard Cleo whisper from above.

Lady Morrigan reached up to her face and removed the mask which covered it. It revealed a visage twisted with anxiety.

And then it came.

The Taller of the two figures on the Gravestone raised a hand and spoke.

“NEIG’HYL!!”

A crushing, overwhelming power pushed down upon you. Like a tsunami crashing upon all your heads, every single person, man, monster and everything in between was **** to their knees by this single torrent of absolute authority.

Some strained against this command, but it was for nothing. It was simply beyond resistance.

The Two figures vanished from atop the gravestone and appeared as if they had teleported, to the crested face of the Mansions’ porch.

You and all others could see them now in earnest.

The first, who padded forward was unlike any creature that you had ever seen. It resembled a woman in only the most basic of ways. With bone thin spindly arms it stalked across the ground on all fours. Its body was covered in filthy yellow rags. On its hands and feet were clawed gauntlets and boots which formed iron claws, dragging threateningly across the stones.

The head was the most disturbing, enclosed within a crude iron helmet which was visibly riveted shut. The mouth piece was a ribbed muzzle from which a thick pale gooey drool spilt. And from the tiny circular eyeholes shined a disturbingly tender pinkish/red glow. From the open back of the helmet spilt a ridiculously long mane of matted dreadlocked hair which covered the creature from its pale ankles to its skeletal arms.

This monstrous thing made absolutely no sound, staring through every thing that it could see like an eagle taking note of prey.

You knew at once that it was this creature which was the source of the primal terror which oozed into every crevice of yours and the others’ beings.

The Second figure was much more refined. A man dressed in a beautifully intricate if not slightly archaic garb. The steel toed Black loafers shone with careful brogging, the perfectly straight black and red striped trousers lead to a shining black belt. He wore a beautifully crafted suit, complete with crimson swirling patterned waist coat, a long tailcoat engraved with golden lining and sharp collared black shirt. Tightly holding at his thin neck was a Bolo tie with a shining twelve-tailed sigil engraved on its face.

He stood in a stance strangely uniform and slightly relaxed. He was thin and lean like an arrow. Upon his head was a gleaming gilded helmet in the shape of a perfect sphere. No eyeholes or mask was present, giving him a distinctly nebulous air.

This man… you could barely even call him that. You struggled to even find the adequate words to describe his vibe… he was simply: Pure, resplendent dark, the encapsulation of authority.

The Man said nothing at first, merely staying still, although you got a horrible chill as you felt his eyes sweep over you.

Only once the moment had passed did he very slowly and deliberately reach up and remove the gilded spherical helm from his head.

He was completely blemish less, and although he had no wrinkles, his face was sharp and bold, with an air of a refined maturity. Completely stark white in complexion, his curled moustache and slicked back hair was a blonde so pale that it gave off a kind of platinum shine from the flat scalp all the way down to the French braid which was relaxed on his shoulder, hanging down beyond his waist.

“M’halia.” With a click of his fingers, the helm vanished in a splash of crimson.

Suddenly a wide, slightly sinister smile curved across his handsome face and in a flamboyant gesture, he swept aside his arm and gave a deep bow.

“A’rs eth’raak mi’gaool. (Such lowly creatures about.)”

You shivered as the strange tongue he spoke in felt oddly familiar, and completely understandable.

“Et’tweq viliz kombalum. Varaas murook miyal, telet A’rs skolostys (We shall converse in the mortal tongue so that all may hear.)” He spoke, standing straight. The Man swept out his arm theatrically as he spoke in a crisp slightly accented tone.

“We. shalt. converse. My name is Gabriel Balneux, Lord Speaker and Grand Inquisitor of the High Court, foremost servant to your King. My Companion is Ser Antoinetta; the Yellow Knight of Bile…” He said.

‘Antoinetta’, a name that didn’t suit this creature at all, stirred slightly, remaining in its crouched stance.

“I would like to begin with an apology. I am sorry, and I must beg your forgiveness. You see, myself and other members of the Court, mayhaps have not been clear of our expectations.

You see, this… battle, skirmish… war is not only unsanctioned by the crown, but in direct violation of the second, third and fourth of the Dark societies Laws of Totality.

This - mixing of blood and dirt and woe is not only an act of sacrilegious disobedience, but an abomination. Vampires have no right to clash with dogs, nor dogs with tinder, nor tinder with humans… pious humans they may be.

Myself and My agents have been watching you all for quite some time, and of great concern and curiosity was your collective ability to blatantly break the rules which have been in place - before yours or your fathers, or your fathers-fathers-fathers, were ever even born.

Allow me to be clear; Monster kind has clear boundaries set in place. These acts of open warfare and unsolicited mixing are not only foolhardy, but of the most treasonous heresy that one could possibly fathom!” The way he spoke was so strange, his tone carried such weight, such power and yet he flaunted it as if he were atop a stage, performing to an audience.

This was not at all how you imagined an Upir to be, if in fact that is what he was?

With slow deliberate steps, Lord Balneux strode through the battlefield, eyeing down every single being which came into his eagle-like view, skinned and analyzed down to the bone by his pale azure eyes.

Nobody could bear to even look at him, so oppressive was his gaze.

“Look at you, look at all of you. Please, do not be afraid… for as much as you all are the purest manifestation of sin - so deeply entwined in your repugnance, your guilelessness, your childish ignorance, I want - Nay, I need thee all to understand that I adore you for it.

Under normal circumstances, the order for the extermination of all beings, participant or viewer in this act of self-righteous slop, would be swift. However…” He had walked a circle now, through the protracted witches, through the floored werewolves and crusaders, even among the kneeling Noxium who were all quivering under his majesty. But when he had come to a stop, he stood in the space between you and Morrigan.

“Exceptional violations, require exceptional measures. This is true of all of us, is it not, Lady Morrigan? Lord Nox?” He said it… but he never laid his eyes on either of you.

“In truth, while this heresy has been condemned by every member of the High Court, who unanimously voted for all of your final deaths, his majesty remains kind and merciful.

You shall not die by our hands - not today.

Instead, an entirely more fitting sentence has been laid down upon thee. A sentence that I have been dispatched to declare.

With my coming, and the arrival of the Gravestone. From this moment forth, I declare that in place of an honorable ****, you shall instead be sentenced to The Invocation of Conquest.”

The Invocation of… what?

Gabriel spread out his arms wide, beaming dementedly as he shouted in his booming deep voice “THE INVOCATION OF CONQUEST!!! YES. A veritable festival of bloodshed, where all woes may be tested in the fires of ****, be they hatred or fear or vengeance, all shall dance in the shadow of the Gravestone: to the Victor, Mercy.

All who witness here, and in-fact all who do not witness will be inducted into this ritual and will thus have the required sanction to wage war on one another. Within the confines of this city, this once holy place, you may slaughter one another to your hearts content and the one who rises from the ashes as victor and leader, shall be granted solace from the wrath of the High Court.

However… if you were to disobey his Majesty’s kindly decree and spill no blood, then the wrath that shall follow will be beyond the scope of your limited imaginations.

As a note of officiality, I shall declare all members present and indeed not present, do try and stay very still, after all lady Antoinetta has a very nasty bite:

Lady Morrigan, Lord Horus, Lady Fall, Regina Watts, Flora Wulfgar, The humans known as Lacrimosa and Requiem and Angelous…”

Gabriel continued to list the names as everyone was crushed by his will. How was it possible for him to so easily dominate every single monster and human here, like it was as casual as blinking. You had no idea that power like this existed… maybe that was why you were a pile of sundered flesh and bone - how you ended up like this.

The Pain was too much, you felt as if you were bound to pass out again-

“Tut-tut, Charles, no sleep for you.” Gabriel had not stopped listing the names and yet his voice rang loudly in your mind. You saw that his sapphire gaze was fixed unblinkingly upon you… it was like the entire universe had gone dark and the only remnants were the Pale blue stars which cut into your thoughts.

“W-What do you want with me?” You thought.

“What do I want? Little Charles, what an unfortunate question, from one of such prestige, one of such profound blood. We are kin you and I, the fact that you lay down here amongst these mongrel worms breaks my cold dead heart. I in fact have a special message for you.”

“A message? What message, who in the high court would-” You paused.

“Ahhh so you do understand. Good. Listen well young Drake: from this day forth, the doom that you have wrought upon this city will only intensify. Your wager will be lost once again and ruin shall consume you, as well as all those you love. However, you have taken the right steps to providence, given yourself a chance at salvation. This salvation cannot be gathered from the outside, but comes from within.

Mark these words boy, for without them, apocalypse is sure to follow.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean!?

It comes from within?

What a bunch of bullshit, that couldn’t be all she said, after all this time… after she left me thinking that she was dead. What else did she say, tell me! TELL ME!”

Gabriel smiled as he spoke through the list, clearly nearing its end “Rest well, Charles. We will meet again.”

You felt your mind slipping, your body weak, your spirit weighed down. As you slipped into unconsciousness, Gabriel spoke the last words on his list.

“Artorias Drake, Remus Drake, Diana Drake and last but not least, Charles Drake.”

You fell into the blackness, and did not awaken for some time.