David Wise - Tales of Ravenloft

"Why is it always the center one?"

As he had expected, skeletons, zombies, and ghouls leapt out at him as he approached the vampire's lair, but his sword of magical flame made short work of these lesser foes. Holding his flaming blade aloft, he charged the crypt door with quick steps and an armored shoulder. The ancient wood gave way with a splintering crack, and he was inside.

"Crave! I've come to kill you!"

The light of day and the fire of his sword revealed a huge stone sarcophagus in the room beyond, and on the far side of the room, a set of stairs spiraling down into the depths. There was no doubt where those stairs led, but a sound of crying came from beside the stone coffin, in this very room.

As Tenet carefully maneuvered the area, heading toward the sound, he noticed that the lid of the coffin was carved into the shape of a warrior at rest. The stone man in plate mail had a comely form and bold manner. Tenet couldn't help thinking it was in just such a noble coffin that he would like to be buried when the gods saw fit to grant him death.

He rounded the corner of the sarcophagus and discovered a little girl curled up into a ball, sobbing, her hands covering her face.

"Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!" She screamed in panic.

"The vampire must have been keeping you for a snack. You're not large enough for a full meal." Tenet sheathed his sword and tried to get the spratling to uncurl. "There, there, little one. No one is going to hurt you. We'll get you back to your parents, but first let's get you into the sunlight, where you'll be safe."

A gravelly voice erupted from the tiny fanged maw," No!" Talons reached for the knight.

Suspecting something like this, he'd kept a stake in his hand. Lashing out, in one strike, he put the little one to rest for eternity.

"You won't find me so easy to destroy."

Lord Tenet whirled as Crave floated into view from the stairway. The foul stench of rotting flesh and ancient blood wrapped around the monster in a dusky mist while dark clouds rolled out from it and blocked the sun's rays.

Twirling in the air, the vampire floated to the top of the arched vault and glared down at Lord Tenet.

The knight drew his sword and blasted flame at Crave.

"I thought we'd decided your magical fire couldn't hurt me," the creature hissed with a smile. "Now it's my turn."

With a few gestures and words, the vampire cast black bolts of energy from its talons, striking the knight in the chest. His armor glowed white for a second, then dimmed. The knight appeared unharmed.

"A magical sword and magical armor? I had no idea you were such an enchanting fellow. I guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. "The monster hurled itself down on the knight. As it fell, its talons, muscles, and fangs grew larger and larger.

Flaming sword out, the knight pierced the breast of the monster as its talons ripped and tore at his armor. With every blow, the vampire raged at Lord Tenet, but the knight grasped his sword with two hands, causing it to tear and burn at the vitals of the undead thing.

"Yes, it hurts! Yes, it burns! But you'll be dead before your blasted weapon kills me!"

The vampire ripped off the shoulder plates and helm of the knight and sank its fangs deep into his throat. New energy filled the vampire as it hurled away the sword that had caused it so much pain and ripped apart the body of the human who dared to use the weapon.

In one gruesome moment of raining blood, the knight was unmade.

For hours after the battle, the vampire lay gasping for life on the cold stone floor. Shards of the sword were still buried in its flesh, preventing it from regenerating to full health.

Crave could hardly think, the pain was so terrible. It needed more food; it needed the sister and knew where to get her.

Many hours later, it gathered enough energy to turn into mist, then floated into the city, seeking a meal seasoned with revenge.

Sitting by herself at the funeral, Lady Larom seemed fully recovered from the previous day's attack. Several congregation ladies had donated their clothes and other accoutrements to properly outfit her for the temple service. An ivory shawl draped a snowy blouse and creamy, form-fitting skirt. It was obvious to the women that Lady Larom looked good in white things.

Many had sadly shaken their heads at her hair. The lustrous, dark tresses of yesterday were peppered with gray today, and the sheen of her hair was also gone.

"It must have been the horror of the attack," some had said behind concerned hands.

"The loss of a loved one can often do that, too," others had added, thinking of times when the friar had come to their houses.

But now, all the voices were silenced, for Friar Whelm was beginning his eulogy.

"We are here today to honor and mourn a brave man. Some would argue a foolishly brave man, but I would never say that. "Whelm's hand reached out and touched the now-graying hair of Lady Larom.

Looking up, her devotion and respect plain to read in her face, Larom shed a single tear.

"This wonderful lady took up the faith of hope and light, taking it into her bosom. That strength comforts her in this sad hour. The vampire must have taken her brother as it has taken others down through the centuries. But she sits here, a shining example of what hope can do. Pray with us, brothers and sisters."

The service was simple and quick. Friar Whelm made sure Lady Larom went home with respectable people, people who would feed her well and take care of her, people who would show her the ways of the city and help her learn how wonderful it was to be a part of the temple.

Friar Whelm wanted her around for a long, long time.

Filled with vigor it hadn't known in centuries, the friarcoraltan closed the doors of the temple, warding them from entrance. The portal wasn't locked, but anyone coming to the doors would suddenly find something else to do.

It needed to rest after feeding so well. It wondered if it should have used an energy spike on the woman: the herd expected such things. But the undead thing was so full that the thought of taking more energy during the normal feast time made it nauseated.

Then it felt a presence in the warded temple, an energy source it hadn't felt for centuries.

"Crave?" the coraltan asked the empty air. "Didn't I tell you never to come in here after your first foray into the city?"

Turning from mist into monster, the vampire gasped in pain while leaning against the altar.

"I had to!" Fear and anger mixed with a plea for help in the sound of the vampire's voice. "Part of that warrior's blade is still in me. It burns; the pain is unbearable. Do something, or I'll perish and you'll be left to your own devices."

"Perish? You can't do what you've already done, and perishing is something we all do but once. Go back to your comfortable dirt before I become angry."

"I want the sister. You've sensed the energy in her. I must have her, and I will. Today. Now!"

The coraltan shed its robes like a snake shedding its skin. Standing before the vampire, the creature revealed its true, undead nature, its desiccated and worm-infested body, and the vampire knew itself for the puny thing it was. Crave curled up before the transformed friar, much as the vampire girl before Lord Tenet.

"I won't hurt you while you remain useful. Come, let me heal your wounds and show you the light of truth."

A spark spewed from the tangled maw of the coraltan and sucked energy from the vampire. It used that energy to heal the wounds the magical sword had made. Judging from the damage done to the vampire, the warrior would have made a nasty foe. The monstrous friar was glad.

"Did you turn the knight into a minion, or drain him dry? "

"After the pain he caused me? His body is in pieces all over my lair. His weapon and armor hide forever in a sarcophagus ten men couldn't open. Now, may I have her? "