Ah, I see. One more question . . . is this altruism for me . . . or for you?

For innocent people in general. I don't needlessly risk my own life (if you read that encounter I had with werewolves, although acting in partial ignorance my intention was not to be in any fight at all, and my trap did work.)

Bert_the_Turtle wrote:For innocent people in general. I don't needlessly risk my own life (if you read that encounter I had with werewolves, although acting in partial ignorance my intention was not to be in any fight at all, and my trap did work.)

Don't let that encounter diminish your caution when dealing with such creatures, werewolf or otherwise. I merely used the werewolf as an example. There are other supernaturals far more cunning and predatory than werewolves . . . vampires, for example. I certainly appreciate the trust you have shown me, and look forward to meeting you (peace, Mr. Caliburn, if that does happen, it will be under the condition of whatever measures Bert the Turtle decides to arrange in order to feel safe).

I suppose I should just simply say: don't believe every supernatural that claims to be a good guy. Being stabbed quietly in the back is just as deadly as being torn apart.

Part IX

But Dante had reached the last spiral by then, stripping away the large cultist’s chance by a flying tackle that hurled the brutish fellow well beyond the dagger’s range. Spinning like a cat on the hunt, Dante whirled back to his feet and dived for the stone weapon.

“Well, I’ll take the thing then,” Dante stood, brandishing the stone weapon expertly. “But ya can keep the bloody ‘honor’ mumbo jumbo!”

“Infidel!” the Standing One shrieked, another jet of lightning streaking forth.

“Infidel yerself,” Dante grunted, catching the bolt on the intersecting cross of his ankh, straining to keep the energy away. “Ya old goat!”

I returned to my feet and launched myself at the disguised succubus. The other cultists fled at the clash, their leader at a standoff and two supernatural beings wreaking havoc in their sanctuary. Lashing and tearing at each other, the succubus was slowly transforming into her demonic persona, jowls lengthening, back hunching, and clawed climbs flexing. Dante, shielded by the ankh, was slowly drawing the Standing One away from the girl. No cultist dared interfere in the battle; I could sense their fear of their master’s ire and their fear of crossing a vampire and succubus locked in combat.

The Dar’ota was the first to draw back, great jaws and chest heaving with exertion, wounds leaking a grayish, filmy blood. I had not given it a chance to recoup, attacking at every angle, offering no quarter. But the Dar’ota’s fighting skills were lacking compared to mine. The creature was far more agile than its bulk suggested; but its size was detrimental, and its wounds were far more numerous and deep than my own.

However, even a vampire must drink her words on occasion. She charged me faster than an alligator’s rush, and while I had done the same; its immense bulk was the deciding factor this time. Its crocodilian jaws clamped down on my right arm and its charge knocked me against the wall, where it jerked and twisted an attack of suffocation and tearing at my arm. Ignoring the static pain, I hammered its eyes and head with my fist, trying to dislodge its terrible grip. Soon both its eyes were gone, crushed by my blows. It gave one last wrench with its jaws just as I struck my last, and strongest, hit yet against its face. My arm came away at the elbow with the monster, and it instinctively swallowed it. The succubus fell to the floor and shimmered, the slimy, scaly bulk dissolving into a badly battered, beautiful woman.

I propelled myself at her throat again; she gagged and whimpered when her larynx was crushed in my remaining hand. I glanced about, seeing Dante and the Standing One circling each other warily, a long gash across the robed man’s shoulder.

“Dante!” I called out. “Brace the dagger!” He gave a quick look in my direction, and instinctively saw my next action. Bringing up the dagger, he jumped away from the clergyman’s line of attack, setting the hilt against the stone wall and bracing it. Forcing the woman in front of me, I charged with all my speed and might at the dagger, setting her back in line with the dagger’s wicked point.

She screamed once on the point of impact, and then she disappeared in giant a cloud of mosquitoes, which swirled madly before vanishing. “Untie the girl,” I hissed, jumping at the old man. The lightning robbed me of my momentum, and I thudded to the ground. The Standing One watched me warily, his brow furrowing as Dante cut the girl free with a single swing of the dagger. But he knew as well as I did that if he turned his attention away from me, he would be a dead man.

But then he suddenly relaxed, backing up slowly and raising his hands as though conceding defeat. But he had a maniacal grin on his face. A storm of feet sounded in our ears as more than three dozen cultists pounded down the stairs. The little girl instinctively clung to Dante, sensing he was there to help her. I backed away slowly as the robed members crowded into the room. Their weapons consisted of heavy iron and silver cudgels shaped as some standing saint, some of them wreathed with hawthorn, wolfsbane, and other anti-vampire plants of yore.

“Surrender,” the Standing One demanded, surrounded by his followers. “You cannot win. Surrender the girl and the vampire, and we will set you free. Do so willingly, without dissembling, and I will also personally guarantee you a seat of highest honor once Aidacoel has been freed.”

“Aye,” Dante sneered, holding the dagger before him protectively. “I’ll surrender when pigs fly and turtles wear bloomers.”

“So be it,” the Standing One nodded gravely. “Then you will die with them.”

Celeste Darken

"Don't let that encounter diminish your caution..."

I wouldn't dare. You should see the amount of preperations I make before tackling any kind of threat. That includes research.

"I suppose I should just simply say: don't believe every supernatural that claims to be a good guy."

I believe we've allready established that.

Three Dozen Cultists?! What happened next?!

Bert_the_Turtle wrote:I wouldn't dare. You should see the amount of preperations I make before tackling any kind of threat. That includes research.

Good. It is far better to over prepare and find yourself with extra ammunition than to under prepare and find yourself dead.

Bert_the_Turtle wrote:I believe we've allready established that.

As do I. But sometimes other readers may not be as aware of past discussions.

Bert_the_Turtle wrote:Three Dozen Cultists?! What happened next?!

I'll show you.


Conclusion

I quickly stepped forward and put my remaining arm in front of Dante protectively, halting his advance.

“Does the vampire have something to say?” the Standing One derided unctuously. “Will you save the girl’s life by forfeiting your own?” He, like the other cultists, flicked his gaze occasionally between my eyes and the sparks that emanated from the stump of my arm.

I spoke quietly and too low for them to hear. “Tie the girl to your waist, Dante. When I give the signal, get on my back.”

“What for?” he questioned just as quietly, though he did so, pocketing his ankh and carefully sheathing the stone dagger in his belt, using the long rope that had once tied the girl to the altar.

“Just do it.”

Dante gave her something small and whispered to her to eat it. The girl was pale but obedient, chewing on something that smelled like mint.

“What are you doing?” the Standing One objected heatedly. “Release the ceremonial dagger, slime. Only a layman touched by Aidacoel may touch it.”

“What are ya gonna do, Celeste?” Dante asked softly, disregarding the clergyman.

“An ability I have heretofore neglected to mention,” I replied, our tones decipherable only to each other. “Because I found out only a little bit ago.”

“SILENCE!!” roared the Standing One. “I WILL NOT BE IGNORED! Answer me now, vampire! Will you save yourself and the humans at your side? Come quietly, and I promise no harm shall befall them.”

“Do not try to deceive me, mortal,” I replied coldly. “I can smell the lie even as it leaves your breath.” The entire line of cultists backed up in fear, reassuring themselves of their superior numbers.

“Enough!” the Standing One screamed. “Kill the one with the dagger! Bring me the vampire and the girl! I want them alive!”

“Now, Dante!” I responded in kind to the cult leader’s threats, knocking the nearest robed member to the ground. Dante had the girl tied to his waist. He jumped at my back and wrapped his arms tightly about my neck, while I looped his left knee through my remaining arm; the girl was nestled safely between us.

I launched myself at the pillar, finding a purchase where a human would find it impossible and sprinting up the stonework as a runner would run across a track. Gravity had no hold on me while ran up the wall, some mystic adhesive as malleable as air gave me this spider-like ability. I was able to slip in between the stone supports easily. The cult members stared in dumb shock below me for several seconds, when the Standing One was finally able to convince them to shoot at me with silver-tipped quarrels from crossbows. Those that weren’t armed with ranged weapons tried following me from the stairs themselves, but it was too late. They had to navigate a two-foot wide staircase and worry about losing their balance and falling to the floor; I did not. Darting between the scaffolding when it was required, I didn’t stop running until I was past the bell and into the tower. An elbow from Dante decommissioned a surprised bell ringer napping in a corner. Then I leaped the tower, raced across the shingled roof, and catapulted to the grounds below. A few steps more and I bounded over the black gate. I did not stop running until I had reached Dante’s residence.

“Well—I must—say,” Dante was panting as though he had been the one running, “that—was—close.” He unhooked himself and untied the girl, gently setting her on the ground.

“Is she all right?” I asked in concern. She lay unmoving. We knelt beside her.

“Aye,” he nodded, feeling her forehead. “I gave her a bit of something to get her ta sleep. I was’ na sure what ya had up yer sleeve, an’ I feared she might get a fright.”

“Good thinking,” I approved.

“An’ how ‘bout you,” he looked at me. “Are you all right?” I nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “You were struck twice by lightning, lass. An’ not ta mention yer arm just got ripped off. I imagine even a vampire would feel somethin’ of that.”

“The lightning bolts didn’t hurt,” I assured him, looking at my arm and the copious sparks flying from the stump. “And this . . . stings.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“Can you take the girl to a safe place?” I asked. “Perhaps we can look at those books a little later. When we have rested . . . and recuperated.” Dante had blood all across his shirt, most from the butler’s proffered beverages, but some small patches were his own. His left arm was reddened and burnt from parrying the Standing One’s mystical attacks.

Dante nodded agreeably, and then his vision looked past me. “You’ll watch her, then?” he asked, seeing past me. “Aye, when she finds her home an’ beyond. Tell me how she fares after that, eh? Warn me if any change comes over her.” His vision refocused back on me. “I’ll see she gets safely back ta her home. Don’ na worry. Take care, ya hear?”

I nodded, stood up and returned to my lair.

Celeste Darken

Wow. So, how's your, err, stump? And what're we gonna do about the cult now?