Fiction Count Renliss' Journey to Lustria (Storm of Magic backstory)

Part One


The plan to redirect the meddlesome witch hunters towards the Lhamia holdings backfired. Now two of their own thralls were dead by the witch hunters’ hand. Worse, the Lhamia were aware of the betrayal and were most displeased. Elaine’s undead hordes were arranging themselves for battle while Renliss did likewise with his own forces. His sire watched disinterestedly, showing no sign of worry about the battle nor upset over his failed manipulations. Finally, he spoke.

“Our forces are about the same size, but Elaine is relying too heavily on zombies, our warriors outclass theirs on the whole. This battle will be short.”

From their view on the hill overlooking the assembling troops, saw the Lahmian lines parting to allow a figure on a nightmare riding towards the front lines.

“Elaine never led from the front lines before….she detests doing actual fighting herself….she’s up to something order the attack now.”

As the front lines converged, Elaine pulled a snake headed staff of Nehekaran origin from her cloak and raised it high. All of the skeletons in the front ranks of Renliss’ force nearest to Elaine buckled and swayed. After a moment, they calmly walked forward and insinuated themselves into the Lahmian lines. Everywhere Elaine rode the opposing skeletons defected towards her side as if Renliss’ control meant nothing. He could sense his sire was using all of his concentration just to keep the Grave Guard following his orders but they could not hold against the superior number of skeletons and zombies swarming them…Renliss watched as the wight holding his sire’s standard was pulled from his steed…


Week One in Lustria


“Master you must wake up immediately!”
“How dare you wake me peasant!”

Renliss was secretly relieved to have his vivid reverie reliving his worst defeat cut short. He did not like dreaming about the battle that eventually led to his exile. He couldn’t let his thrall know that. It could lead Mordrek to believe he could disrespect him.

“Master, we are under attack!”
“We haven’t even landed yet, who could be attacking us?”

A small cannon ball burst through the wall of his cabin, then collided with the opposite wall making a large dent in the wall of his cabin. Renliss groaned and sleepily clambered out of his coffin. He peered through the new impromptu “window” in his cabin to see a small ship, beyond which the shores of Lustria occupying the whole Horizon. He extended his lifesight to try to get a clue on who was attacking them. He focused on the blurry auras visible at a distance and estimated how many human sized beings were likely on the ship.

“Did you wake my sire yet?”

The necromancer winced.

“I…was hoping…you could master” Mordrek replied nervously. Renliss bristled inside.

He knew his sire was far more powerful than him, but he still wished for his thrall to fear him with the same intensity as his sire.

“No point in waking him for something this minor, there aren’t even a score of men on that ship. A skeleton crew….metaphorically speaking.”

Renliss dispatched his fell bats to examine the ship and extended his power to see through the creature’s eyes. Tilean ship, only one cannon but the ship was nimble enough to sail circles around the stolen Imperial cargo ship that the vampires were using letting them circle them over and over again till the one cannon took them down. The Tilean ship was only nimble when the helmsman wasn’t being ripped into pieces by giant bats anyway. The battle was short.

Renliss’ sire was fairly uninterested in the prisoners and Renliss could speak Tilean, so Renliss had full autonomy for interrogating them. Back during his breathing days, Renliss served the Empire in their border regions where he was forced to work with Tilean mercenaries fairly often. Thus, he was given full autonomy to set the terms for their newest living subjects. Currently the Tileans were the vampires only living subjects. The Tileans had no need to know that their ancestral lands were stolen by the Lahmians. Renliss released the ship’s wounded ship’s captain from his temporary Mesmer.

“Your ship’s captain informed me that after the leaders and your sponsors take their cut. Your share is one third of all spoils split evenly between yourselves and the fellow members of your expedition already exploring the jungles looking for lizard gold.”

The Tileans nodded nervously not expecting the vampire to open up talking about money.

“You are mercenaries. I wish to hire you. If you join my expedition willingly and obey my orders, you will receive the same third of our spoils, but you will not have to share it with the fellow members of your new expedition, on account that the current members of my expedition didn’t ask for any pay.”

Renliss gestured at the skeletons brandishing weapons at the surrounded Tileans. He was willing to let them keep all of if it, but he figure they’d be suspicious if the terms were too good. Well more suspicious anyway.

“Either way you are taking your ship. If you don’t choose to join our expedition, you get to join our ship’s skeleton crew.”

Renliss pointed at Mordrek. The dead Tileans piled within sight of the captives rose from their feet and the flesh fell off their bones.

“Serve us willingly for the expedition and not only live, but return home rich. Oppose us and you will serve us eternally, with no pay and no chance of seeing your homes ever again.”

The captain though unable to stand, worked up the strength to laugh defiantly.

“What a generous offer! To allow us the freedom to be worked to death over several weeks before you add us to your undead horde!”

The captain punctuated his last sentence by pulling the concealed pistol he probably believed Renliss didn’t know about. Renliss knew what was coming. The captain’s reflexes were slowed by the blood loss from his leg wound. After sidestepping the clumsy shot, Renliss proceeded to rip the pistol from his hand and beat him to unconsciousness with it. Then he drained him of his remaining blood and instructed Mordrek to imprison his soul in a jar. Renliss calmly turned towards the other prisoners as if he merely had a minor argument with the captain.

“Anyone else refuse my offer?”

* * * * * *

Renliss gathered what information he could from his new subjects. The captured Tileans were original part of a much larger expedition that landed a few weeks prior. They were left behind to guard the ship while the rest of their expedition sought Lizardman gold. The Tileans saw what they thought was a large ship with rival treasure hunting expedition. A ship with no guns that they thought they could bring down easily, thus eliminating the competition before it arrived. The Tileans were not expecting it to be filled with the undead. The ship they were using was stolen from Empire traders. Renliss’ sire insisted on traveling incognito instead the stereotypical husk of floating corpses that vampires never really used for long voyages and just used for shock value. Renliss and his sire agreed that the Tilean ship was a vast improvement on their hastily stolen ship, and it was nice to have functional cannon on their side.

The Tileans were instructed to make a wagon to be pull the cannon through the jungle and repair the two ships. They also needed to prepare wagons for supplies, both for the living and the dead. Originally they only planned to haul the accoutrements the snobbish vampires felt they couldn’t live without. With living mercenaries, they now had to pack food and drink for their new troops, an inconvenience the vampires detested. What few skeletal horses they had left would all be needed to pull supplies. All the construction was to be done under the theoretically capable of supervision of Modrek. Renliss had a lower opinion of Modrek’s cunning than his sire did. His sire seemed to have become reckless after their defeat at the hands of the Lahmians. Renliss publicly instructed the skeletons left behind to kill all humans in sight if Mordrek was died. That dissuaded the Tileans from trying anything.

Renliss bloodline was known for being able to see the auras of the living known as lifesense. Renliss could even follow the spiritual trail left by a human aura’s passing to track someone miles in the barrens of Sylvania. Lustria’s jungles were too rich with life for Renliss’ power to work with that level of finesse. Too many scurrying critters with their own small auras created “noise” interfering with his ability to find anything useful in the teeming jungles. His sire could track humans down though. Using a combination of information from the Tileans on the ship, his own more refined lifesense, and undead tracking hounds, the vampires’ forces were able to locate the rest of the Tilean expedition. Renliss thought it was risky bringing the Tileans from the ship with them, but his sire said it would test their loyalty.

The plan was simple. Surround their camp while the bulk of them were sleep, kill the sentries with magic and surround the rest. The skeleton swords pointed at their throats rudely awakening them would hopefully get a speedy surrender. One of the Tileans from the ship decided to complicate things though. He shouted a warning to the sleepers after the sentries were dispatched. This turned a surefire surprise attack into a desperate melee. Most of the Tileans couldn’t get their full armor and armaments in time, but they managed to bring a few skeletons down before being slain. Those in the center of the camp were able to get all their gear and mobilize into a desperate circle. The survivors of the camp were rallying around their paychest completely surrounded. They had their pikes and crossbows at the ready. Their desperate faces showing equal odds of either surrendering or fighting to the death.

“For the benefit of those I’m meeting for the first time, my name Count Renliss. I don’t know what your name is boy, but your attempt to save you comrades failed spectacularly. If my plan went off without a hitch most of your friends would have been taken alive and be given the same generous offer you received. Now most of them are dead and since they resisted me in life, they will have to serve me in death. You will fare far worse then that.”

The Tilean who gave the warning, now restrained by four skeletons, let loose a pathetic whimper.

“Mordrek take him out a ways, but not too far. I want everyone present to be able to hear you at work.” Renliss added quietly.

Renliss waited till screams could be heard in the distance before continuing with his new captives.

“You’ve done well guarding your paychest. I am not seeking your paychest’s treasure, I am seeking the Lizard’s treasure. If you assist me you will get a fair share. The paychest will have more treasure in it than you would have otherwise received.”

Renliss paused to let more screams from Mordrek’s victim reach them.

“An unintended benefit of your side’s unfortunate losses is that you now have fewer men to share your treasure with. You can see that those who willingly serve me are treated well”

The paymaster motioned for the men to put away their weapons.

“Very well. Men, please excuse me while I negotiate the particulars of our contract with our new employer here. With your permission of course, your Excellency.”

The thinly veiled defiance shrouded in politesse amused him. The boldness to set terms from a position of weakness impressed him. Renliss saw his old living self’s mannerisms before him and smiled inwardly.

* * * * * *

“Almost two hours of negotiating rates, I think we should stop beating around the bush your Excellency.”
“Oh?”
“We’ve been dancing around two things. First, you promised not to turn those who serve you into undead, but you never promised to let us go home, you just vaguely insinuated it. Second, you never told me what you want”
“I want the assistance of your men in gaining the treasures of the Lizardmen”
“Your haggling was just for show. I know you didn’t sail this far for mere gold. I think I can help you get whatever you really want. In exchange, I’d like some assurance to let myself and a few other survivors return home. Now tell me what you want?”
“Not all treasure glitters, Antonio.”

 

Re: Count Renliss' Journey to Lustria (Storm of Magic)

Part Two


Renliss stared over the largest horde of zombies he had ever seen. Both he and his sire traditionally avoided zombies and ghouls in favor of skeletons. Elaine had wrested control of nearly all of their skeletons by this point. Now skeletons were a liability. Renliss was livid.

“I can’t believe Elaine got the Staff of Heirenhotep! According to legend, the Tomb Kings have hunted down and slain every vampire foolish enough to try to use it.”
“Unless the Nehekarians decide to smite her in the next few days, we will need the zombies to cover our retreat. We have to follow my plan--”
“If the Empire wasn’t so occupied with the greenskins and everything else, they could crush us all! We should be working WITH the Lahmians, not against them.”
“The Lahmians won’t stop till we are locked underground like common vargheists!”
“Because you sent the witch hunters after them!”
“How dare you talk to me that way childe! If we don’t carry out this plan the Lahmians will take everything we have left.”
“What DO we have left, sire? All our peasants either swore fealty to the Lahmians or have been turned into these pathetic shambling--things! You haven’t told me your plan. You may be my sire, but I’m not a fledgling in anymore. You can’t expect me to apply scorched earth to our holdings and not be curious what your mysterious grand plan is.”
“I thought I could handle any vampiric rival with enough soldiers and tactical acumen. I’ve been neglecting my magical development for too long. I’ve noticed I’ve had magic abilities augmented weeks each time I drank the blood of neonate wizard….”
“The Necarchs have been barking up that tree for centuries….you yourself told me that when that one got the blood of the elder wizard from Hoeth. The payoff was both very small and very temporary”
“If a fraction of the stories are true, the rulers of the Lizard creatures of Lustria make the elders of Hoeth look as mystically weak as the matron in the village…making charms to repel the undead” He smirked derisively towards one of the newer zombified women still wearing a talisman necklace meant to ward off the undead.
“You want us to leave our lands to chase a fanciful legend.”
“The staff of Heirenhotep was a fanciful legend too, and it has crushed us. We are out of non-fanciful options”


Week Six in Lustria


“Wake up Renliss, we are wasting time!”

Renliss couldn’t remember a single instance where he woke up after his sire in Sylvannia. In Lustria, he seemed to wake up first every evening. In addition, where once he rarely dreamed about past memories, now it seemed he couldn’t sleep without reliving the events that led him to this forsaken jungle. Despite the fact that the Tileans claimed to have been harried by Lizards wielding poisonous darts repeatedly, neither Tilean or undead have caught the sight of so much as a clawed footprint in mud. Renliss would have liked to say that wandering around the jungle WAS wasting time, but he knew better than to express his true feelings to his sire.

“My apologies, sire.”
“I wasn’t sure yesterday, but now my senses are clear. A large army is moving towards us. They should be on us in a few hours. I can sense very large creatures among them, it must be the lizards and not another human expedition. Remember the toad-like beings are the target, if one is leading the force we need to take it down spilling as little of its blood as possible.”

Renliss was losing more respect for his sire every day. He wanted to remind his sire that he was briefed on all the lore his sire knew on the so-called Slann dozens of times over the past six months.

“Of course sire, we won’t waste a drop of the Slann’s blood.”
“Give the Tileans their weapons back and tell them to set up the cannon in that clearing. Then form the rest into a firing line with their crossbows…and tell your thrall to reanimate the scouts”
“What scouts?”

The ancient vampire turned his head to the side and flicked his wrist casually towards the tree line. Six formerly camouflaged forms melded out of the foliage, clearly visible now that their flesh was blackening in death.

“Look with your lifesense, not your eyes, childe.”

The battle lines were formed. The Tileans were well positioned to shoot in any direction. The undead were positioned around both to protect the missile troops from enemy charges while simultaneously making sure the humans didn’t flee from their vampire masters during the battle. Renliss didn’t normally have ranged support in his army, and he didn’t want to lose this rare resource. Also, he figured the undead would be a good buffer against the tiny poison darts the Tileans talked about. What’s deadly poison to humans should no affect on a corpse.

Renliss was to direct the bulk of their forces, so his sire could concentrate on enemy wizards. Renliss didn’t like being chided about his senses like a newly turned fledgling, but he tightened his focus as suggested. He could sense several of the smaller Lizardmen similar to the scouts that came in earlier coming at the right flank while the bulk of the enemy army was hitting the front, some with auras so mighty, they would make ogres look small. He tried not to picture what lizard creatures that massive might look like.

The skinks were surprised to be facing a volley of crossbow bolts after emerging from the foilage. Renliss was more surprised by what the skinks did. They fired their tiny darts at the nearest skeletons. Very few of the darts hit with enough force to penetrate bone, but each skeleton that was hit was rendered into an inert pile of bones. The necromantic bindings to the vampires dissolved in an instant. Realizing the darts weren’t harmless, Renliss redirected his Fell Bats to keep the skirmishing Lizardmen occupied. The bigger threat was still from the front lines and he couldn’t afford to deal with the skirmishers personally.

A line of Saurus charged the front lines at the same time and Renliss saw what could make such a large auras as two Stegadons thundered into the undead line. Renliss was livid as he saw the Stegadons crunching skeletons into the forest floor. He turned to the Tileans and shouted.

“Forget the smaller Lizards, shoot the cannon at the horned beasts!”
“But the warriors in front…” a Tilean stammered.
“You have my permission to shoot through the damn skeletons!”

Renliss saw his sire was even more furious, abandoning his position, he unfurled his wings and flew forward towards the enemy lines cutting a swath of destruction through the Saurus warriors.

“There is no Slann here! The Lizard spellcaster I sense is so weak, even your stupid thrall could hold it off without help. About all he’s doing his disrupting my lifesight. Who is leading these scaly vermin?….The disruption—its hiding a flanking force!”

The approach of the flanking force was unheard due to the din of battle at first, but now thunderous footsteps were audible to all. A bellowing roar from a titanic beast let all know who was leading the force, and it was not a Slann. A massively muscled Saurus on a titanic primeval beast strode forward in the flanked by dozens of Cold One riders. They proceeded to tear up skeletons with even greater efficiency than the Stegadons. Renliss saw his sire disengage from the nearly obliterated Saurus unit he was fighting to fly at the enemy general in a greater fury than Renliss had ever seen.

Renliss wasn’t sure if his sire could handle the enemy general and the beast but knew better than to interfere, so he turned his attention back to the front line. After the cannon wounds, the Stegadons were finally dropping, finished off by the ceaseless volleys of crossbow bolts from the Tileans. The Cold Ones on the flank were pressing rapidly towards the center though. Renliss decided that was where his attention was needed.

“Mordrek release the hosts!”
“They aren’t fully bound yet master!” the necromancer replied…as if Renliss didn’t know that!
“Just do it!”

Mordrek released his jar of souls towards the Cold One riders while Renliss followed to attack any cavalry that slipped by. The sprits were doing an admirable job taking down the lizards but Renliss saw an especially ferocious looking one wielding an obsidian blade shrouded by blue flame shredding every spirit within reach. If my sire is dueling the enemy general, it’s only fitting I duel the general’s second. Renliss chopped the head off a Cold One approaching and then disemboweled it’s rider, finally he got the lieutenant’s attention. The Scar Veteran noticed the only non-incorporeal being approaching him. They made eye contact. Despite no language held in common, a challenge was understood.

Both combatants sped towards each other full tilt. Renliss didn’t want to feel what the blade of blue fire could do to him. He deftly dodged the attack and thrust his blade in a small opening drawing a small amount of purple blood from his attacker. Damn if that creature’s hide wasn’t thick though! Unfortunately for Renliss, he was so fixated on avoiding the magical blade that he wasn’t paying enough attention to the Cold One. The steed bit into his chest right through his armor. Fine, I’ll take out the beast first.. More carefully this time, Renliss pushed forward focusing on parrying attacks until he got an opening to stab the Saurus’ steed through the chest, quickly pulling his blade out, so he could parry the Saurus counter attack. As the Saurus regained his footing on the ground, Renliss nicked the mighty Lizard again. A sound halfway between a battle roar and restrained vomiting was heard. Both Renliss and his opponent paused briefly watch their masters’ fight.

Renliss sire was flying in the air attempting to get a solid hit on the enemy general. He had inflicted a score of light wounds on the Carnosaur, and the vampire finally took his first wound. The Carnosaur bit into the vampire—and it didn’t find undead flesh at all appetizing, turning away and retching. While the Oldblood fought to regain control of his mount, the vampire scored more telling wounds into the titanic creatures neck. The Carnosaur began to slump to the ground, still alive but staggering from its wounds. Renliss had to refocus on his own fight because the Saurus was distracted far less than he and was attacking once again.

Renliss blocked the Scar Veteran’s blade barely in time. Now that the Saurus lost his height advantage, Renliss had the edge. He was much faster and more agile, it’s just that he seemed none of the wounds he inflicted on the Saurus were very deep. Finally the Saurus slumped over bleeding from over a dozen cuts. Not wanting to take any chances, Renliss prepared to chop off the creatures head just to be sure, when he was struck in the neck by a small dart.

Who dares! Renliss thought as his knees buckled. It was as if a small part of his blood became as living blood and the living blood fought to take over his dead heart threatening to undo the dark magic which sustained him. Vision blurring, Renliss fought against unconsciousness; he willed the dart’s unorthodox poison out of his system. Renliss briefly glimpsed a thunderbolt come crashing down towards Modrek’s corpse cart only to be harmlessly absorbed by a dark cloud. Renliss hoped his sire was right that Modrek could handle a magical duel versus the Lizard neophyte by himself. Neither Renliss nor his sire was in any position to bring their magical might to bear at the moment. Still fighting inwardly to purge the strange poison from his system, Renliss searched around. There was no sign of his shooter, the dart came from amidst a veritable cloud of spirits, Renliss figured a lack of further attacks meant his shooter was overcome by one of the Spirit Host.

Renliss noticed that the battle between his sire and the enemy general had progressed significantly during his Renliss’ brief lapse fighting the poison. The carnosaur was slain and both the Saurus general and the elder vampire were striking and parrying faster than most humans could even follow with his eyes, not slowing down despite their many wounds. Most of the Lizard soldiers were slain or driven off by now but the two leaders fought on heedless of what their minions were doing.

Renliss took a moment to tend to his own wounds. He knelt to feed from his slain foe.
The cold blood was not to his liking, but in his desperation he had no other option. He was reminded of a time in living days fighting for the Empire when his regiment’s supplies were disrupted and they had to scrounge amongst the greenskin camp they destroyed to see if any of their stores were fit for human consumption. A mere ten years of drinking this reptilian swill will leave my looking like a Strigoi! he thought.

Renliss raised his head from his desperate meal just in time to see something horrible and unexpected. He watched his sire turn to dust as the Oldblood finally struck a killing blow. The Saurus then turned his gaze to the depleted skeleton unit in front of him and the humans behind him. Renliss steeled himself to avenge his sire’s destruction or die trying when a crossbow bolt flew right into the wounded Saurus’ eye and brought him down. Renliss wasn’t sure whether to be angry or relieved that a Tilean had robbed him of the opportunity to avenge his sire’s destruction with a lucky shot.

Renliss wanted to gather his sire’s remains immediately but he had to address an immediate concern first. Where once the Tileans were outnumbered by the undead over ten-to-one, they now were barely outnumbered four-to-one. After witnessing the death of their new ruler, they would have to distracted or they would surely try something foolish.

“Well done men. As a bonus you can take all the gold jewelry or valuables you can find on the soldiers. Just save the leaders for me. Then make a pile of the reptiles’ weapons and another of their shields and arrange their corpses in a line.”

Once the Tileans were occupied he bade Modrek to fetch his sire’s coffin then set Morderek to work gathering their own forces casualties and reanimating the undead fallen that were not damaged beyond repair. Renliss wanted to gather his sire’s ashes into the coffin personally. He was about to begin so immediately he remembered his master’s reason for coming to Lustria in the first place. He spied where the neophyte Skink wizard corpse lay. I suppose now is as good a time as any to see what the blood of a spellcaster does, even a weak one. The Tilean paymaster watched him out the corner of his eye while inventorying jewels gathered.

“Now sir?” the warden whispered to him.
“Now is not our moment, the Count is expecting us to try something. Gather the valuables from the fallen lizards, and see if you can collect some of those darts while the vampire and necromancer aren’t looking, we should add them to the paychest as well”
“The darts?”
“Not all treasure glitters, Marcus”

* * * * * *

Teyish quickly rode through the streets of the temple city startling the skink workers as he passed. The worker caste was unaccustomed to seeing dignitaries rush like that. Teyish dismounted from his Horned One and left his mount in the capable hands of the stable master before proceeding on foot. Still reeling from all the loss of life he witnessed, he decided stopping for some grubs to eat would be a good idea. He was currently flustered by recent events and some fresh food would calm him down. He needed to be calm to make a better presentation to his lord.

Once composed, Teyish headed to the temple. The Saurus guardians parted respectfully to allow him through. Teyish presented the urn on the floor in front of him and bowed low, not looking up till the Slann nonverbally motioned for him to rise and speak.

“My lord, Both deeds are done, as you commanded. Losses were much higher than expected though. We lost both General Ralesk and priest Karik of the Temple of the Stars, as well as most of the soldiers they were leading. The undead had living human slaves and were able to combine their augment their undead soldiers abilities with powerful ranged attacks”

After a long pause, the Slann responded.

“You have done well. Place the urn in the Temple of the Moon and tell them to double the guards. Then debrief the survivors with a scribe and compile a report on the undead army’s capabilities. Tell the scouts to keep me appraised of the army’s movement, but do not engage the undead at this time.”

The Slann dismissed him with a wave. Tayish was not used to this many explicit instructions, but hurried out to carry out his lord’s instructions without showing his surprise. After Tayish left, Mage Priest Desserex motioned for his attendants to help him into his palanquin and he began to his journey to his personal eternity chamber. Once there, Desserex took a deep breath and transferred his consciousness outside his body, astrally reaching out to his own lord. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long as usual to make telepathic contact with his elder.

“Desserex you seem agitated.”
“The plan is proceeding, but losses were high.”
“The plan will save the lives of more of servants in the long run.”
“Ralesk is dead, Our temple will not know another Saurus leader of his ability for centuries, that’ll sure cost us blood of our soldiers in each battle we fight without his leadership and ferocity.”
“That is unfortunate. We still need the ‘dark magic of death wielded indirectly to combat an even greater evil’ as the prophecy dictates”
“I still believe the Plaque means we need to use the Death magic of the Old Ones, not the perversion of it that the undead use.”
“Well you are the only one among your generation of the Slann who disagreed with my interpretation.”
“Others disagreed. They just habitually swallow their misgivings and choose not to voice their disagreements with you. This can’t be what the Old Ones intended for us to do, foul deeds do not lead to good results. If the power you seek to control slips your leash it will come back to harm us”
“You need to swallow your misgivings for the time being as I am placing you in charge of the vampires. If you believe the prophecy requires the use of traditional Old Ones taught Death magic, you should wield that magic during the Storm of Darkness while overseeing the vampires. Then both interpretations of the prophecy will be fulfilled simultaneously”
“I foresaw that you would put me in charge of the dark ones, but hoped I was mistaken. Why don’t you put one of my brothers in charge of this who ISN’T disgusted by this undertaking.”
“Because you will work harder to make sure the dark power doesn’t slide from your grasp. One of the Slann who believes wholeheartedly in my interpretation is more likely to grow complacent and let their guard down. I know you will try harder because you won’t take success for granted”

* * * * * *

A swirl of images assaulted Renliss’ mind. He saw himself swimming in square ponds, supervising the construction of a massive stepped pyramid, and frequently time spending contemplating the constellations. His life flashed before his eyes, though it was not his life, it was the life of the skink priest whose stolen blood was flowing through his veins. He knew it was not a mere neophyte wizard he drank, but a highly respected priest. Well below a Slann though well above the other Lizardmen. This was the least of the knowledge he gained, but he had no idea how long he was in a trance.

As he regained awareness of the world around him, he stumbled to his knees. Mordrek was standing above him and had extended a hand offering to help him up. Renliss first became aware that every undead soldier he had was now connected to Modrek and not him. He also saw that the taller undead was blocking his view of the battlefield. Renliss batted away the Necromancer’s hand and snarled.

“Are you okay master?”
“What are you up to Modrek! I’m distracted for a few minutes by the wizard blood and you try a coup!”
“Master, you were in trance for hours going in and out of seizure fits. The line of soldiers was to prevent the mortals from seeing”
“How many hours?”
“Four, maybe five”
“Okay the Lizardmen are about a day at their best pace to reach the nearest Temple City, and some of the skinks escaped. They have a faster pace than the Saurus, so it’s possible we can they can send reinforcements at us in less than two days. That’s if they have another army assembled, which is unlikely. How is our reinforcement process doing?”

Modrek wanted to ask a score of questions ranging from how his master knew where the nearest Lizardmen city is to which Lizardmen are Skinks and which are Saurus. Instead he answered the question given him.

“I’ve raised all the dire wolves and fell bats that weren’t damaged beyond reanimation, as well as the skeletons. About half the wolves and a fifth of the bats could not be restored. The large beasts pulverized enough skeletons that we can only recover about three quarters of them. The Tileans have separated out the Lizard corpses and their weapons and are currently burying their own dead as we speak, ostensibly in a secret location, but it can’t be far. I can find them easily”

“Don’t bother, I don’t feel like provoking the Tileans just for a small number of skeletons. You should probably focus on repairing your cart. I see you couldn’t block the lightning bolt after all.”
“I blocked the first two, but it only takes one to do this kind of damage. Now the draft zombies are slain and I don’t know what I’m going to do”

Renliss stared open-mouthed at his thrall. He gestured impatiently at the massive piles of reptilian corpses.

“I….could use….Lizardmen corpses master”
“How many spirits did you recover”
“…..seven master….”
“Seven?”
“They weren’t properly bou—“

Renliss raised a hand to silence his thrall.

“Never mind, what’s more important is that we get my sire’s remains on a conveyance worthy of him.”

Renliss saw his sire’s ashes had a very large knot of undead soldiers surrounding it. At least Modrek can make some good decisions on his own.

“Master, we don’t have near enough components to form a proper Black Coach out here.”
“We will raise THIS.”
“We don’t quite have all the components to raise a zombie dragon either. Even if we had them we can’t guarantee it would work, this horned beast is not actually dragon.”
“Take what we have. Then take the bones of the Stegadon rider with purple and yellow feathers, powder the bones and add them to the animating components. The feathers signify that he was the primary caretaker of the Stegadon while it was alive. Adding his bones to the reanimation spell will transfer the rider’s mastery of the beast to me. Find several flowers with very dark purple petals dark and red thorns growing in bogs. They have properties sympathetic to death magic and should make up for some of our missing spell components….”

Modrek was in awe as his master displayed an encyclopedic knowledge of the Lizardmen culture, the flora and fauna of the jungle, and the time of during the nightfall that was most auspicious for raising the Stegadon. Once Renliss had returned his sire’s ashes to his coffin and Modrek was busy searching for supplies, he informed the Tileans of the location where the Lizardmen had hidden a large cache of supplies. Enough food and even fermented juice to keep the Tileans healthy and inebriated for several weeks. Once all his minions were out doing their errands. Renliss knelt before his sire’s remains.

“The life here is rich, you will be restored soon master”

Renliss could have sworn he heard the coffin reply.

Well done, my childe.

Renliss had moved his now stronger forces out in under two days. Once he we was fairly certain the Lizardmen were not in direct pursuit, he completed the spells and bindings to give his animated Stegadon the full powers of a Black Coach. Only a few hours after that ritual succeeded, he felt his stolen knowledge from the skink priest slipping away like water dripping through the spaces between cupped fingers. Realizing his will alone couldn’t hold the knowledge in. He pulled out some parchment and tried to scribble down the most useful tidbits before everything was forgotten.

Once able to gain a moment of privacy, Renliss spoke once more to his sire’s ashes.

“Our forces are stronger than before, I know where the nearest city is. It’s sure to have a Slann in it. When you are restored, the blood of the Slann will await you.”
No my childe, our forces are not near strong enough to fight the Lizards directly. You need to build our forces up on the lesser beings in Lustria.

 

Re: Count Renliss' Journey to Lustria (Storm of Magic)

Part Three


Week 30 in Lustria


Renliss torpid form lay in his coffin while Modrek personally guarded it. Antonio the paymaster had gone out with a group of Tileans to collect water and firewood. Modrek was mildly suspicious that Antonio didn’t delegate this task to lesser humans, but he couldn’t exactly follow the Tileans and watch them while still keeping vigil over his master.

Once a good distance away. The Tileans sat down on a fallen log and discussed things. Before Antonio could open his mouth to speak, one of the soldiers erupted.

“Why are we still toadying for the damn Count! He’s not making us into skeletons, but jungle maladies and all these battles are slowly wearing us down. We’ll die of old age before the vampire decides it’s time to return home. You’ve said he wanted something from the Lizardmen, but we’ve been fighting every army under the sun except the Lizards! The last battle could have gone either way in the middle. If we turned on the count we could have joined the other side and be free!”

“The dark elf raiders! Is this your first campaign? Because if you think being their slaves is better than being the count’s mercenaries I’ll kill you right now and spare the rest of us your stupidity. I suppose you wanted to join with the two Skaven armies we fought too.”
“I didn’t say we should have joined the Skaven I’m not stupid…”
“Then you know we can’t just change sides and join anyone unless they have the right combination of honor and pragmatism to see us as allies, not food.”
“Then we turn on the vampire and flee to our ship before whoever we are fighting decides to snack on us.”
“This is why you’ll never be in charge. I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you that we are weeks of marching from our ship. Assuming we don’t get lost. We can’t just cut and run till we are closer to shore”
“What’s the difference? We’ve been marching for weeks with the undead.”
“Remember all the men we lost to the various biting swamp creatures? I don’t suppose you noticed that since joining the undead, all the jungle predators have left us alone? The walking dead repel lesser animals, and I say that makes them worth tolerating. If we want to flee on our ship we need to be able to not just survive the trip but have the numbers to overtake the skeletons guarding it and have enough men alive after that to fully crew the ship”
“We have our secret weapon, the skeletons on the boat will be no problem.”

The soldier pulled out a crossbow bolt with a poison dart tied to it.

“We need to save as many of those darts as possible for the leaders, we have take out both the count and his pet necromancer or we’re worse than dead. We don’t do anything unless I signal it. We need to get back to camp before the Count wakes up and suspects something”

The last surviving fell bat hung upside in the trees above the gathered Tileans. Renliss hadn’t woken up yet because he was not asleep. He was projecting his will elsewhere, perceiving everything Fell bat’s eyes and ears could tell him. Were his mind inside his body at the time, he would have been smiling.

Unbeknowst to the spying Renliss and the Tilean troops alike, a matter weighed heavily on Antonio’s mind. He knew they’d have to time a betrayal carefully, but for the past week, every night a single notion kept dominating his dreams while he slept.

The vampire will no longer want you alive if you lose the cannon. Better to act quickly.

Renliss rose from his fake sleep. The stolen knowledge from the Naggorthi sorceress had faded from Renliss mind a few days ago. Just as well because while it was coursing through him, he found his violent urges closer to the surface. During that time, it took all his restraint not to slay half the Tileans for imagined slights, now he heard them actively plotting against them. Even without a dark elf witch’s murderous instincts coursing through him, the temptation to kill them all now was strong. As satisfying as that would be, they were most useful alive for the time being. Perhaps when he decided he wanted some more palatable blood. For now the elven blood was a welcome change from the bestial blood he was subsisting on. As distracting as the sorceress’ blood was, it was not nearly as mentally jarring as the skaven wizard’s he had earlier. In both cases the sheer exhilaration of tasting their power even briefly made all the hassle worth it.

He watched disinterestedly as the Tileans practiced using the slain dark elf’s repeating crossbows. They couldn’t operate them as efficiently as the elves of course, but they were very low on their own crossbow bolts so they had to make due with what they could find. Most of the Tileans had swapped their own swords for elven blades too. The dark elves rations were a welcome boon to the Tileans as well, though they preferred not to think too hard where the salted meat had come from. They even had something for Renliss, since the sorceress had brought a stash of fermented blood with them. Renliss was happy to use the Dark Elves’ supplies but new better than to leave any survivors and try to conscript them as he had with the Tileans, not that any asked for quarter.

Renliss decided to consult with his sire’s remains again.

“Our forces have grown once more with the corpses of the Naggorthi, despite the damage they inflicted upon us. We only have enough gunpowder for two, perhaps three more rounds from the cannon.”

Don’t bother rationing the shots, childe. Use it at the next battle then abandon it. The act of hauling the cannon around has been slowing down your forces needlessly.
“Next battle?”
You are still a long ways from having the strength to challenge the Lizardmen directly. You said the elves were aware of a small tribe of orcs, not far from your position, yes?
“Orcs? I don’t think their weakling shamans’ blood wouldn’t contribute much.” Renliss had begun to weigh all enemies by the blood of the wizards with them.
Perhaps not, but their bones are durable relative to most other beings and would make excellent conscripts.

His master’s suggestions were essentially commands, even when his master was a pile of dust, Renliss had no choice but to acquiesce.

“We shall begin preparations at once master."

Scouting with the Fell Bat in the direction sorceress was vaguely aware all the orcs were coming from revealed that the orc tribe didn’t live in the jungle outright, but rather in a rocky area filled with geysers and reeking of sulfur. Orcs never live anywhere nice, Renliss mused. Renliss decided to act during the day (though it was cloudy). He wanted to prove to the Tileans (and himself) that he could handle anything at any time. His battle plan required precise shooting and he didn’t want his last few shots to miss in the dark.

The only surviving Tilean scout rode the healthiest still living horse down towards the orc camp all alone. Renliss liked that it only took mere gold to get him to do this role. He rode into the full view of the orc camp, yelled and turned around full speed. The daylight would once again be handy to avoid having the rider have a mishap in the rocky field (not that Renliss cared a lot about the rider’s safety, but he wasn’t above pretending that he did).

True to form, the orcs did not send a mere detachment to chase one human. The whole camp mobilized. That was rash even for orcs, but Renliss didn’t realize that the tribe’s leader was keeping the tribe waiting for an unusually long period of time, and they were getting restless. The rider ran through a narrow gap between two rock outcropping pursued fairly closely by a pack of boar riders as the savage orcs on foots slowly funneled through the bottle neck behind them. The bottle neck was where the cannon was aimed. Barely slowing down, the orcs that weren’t hit by the two cannon shots then found themselves facing a hail of crossbow bolts accompanied by bolts of dark magic aimed by Renliss and Modrek.

The scout rode through the gap in the undead line left for him on the off chance he survived that long. The gap closed barely in time as the savage boar riders chasing him crashed against the skeletons and zombies. With less flora and fauna in the wasteland, to obscure their auras, Renliss lifesense was as sharp as ever. He was easily able to sense the forest goblin unit attached to the tribe trying an unexpected flank attacked over the seemingly impassable cliff side with their spider riders. Renliss ordered the cannon crew to keep their last cannon shot (the one with less gunpowder and a smaller shot) in reserve earlier half expecting this ploy. As the last of the spider riders crested the cliff and began their downward descent, the cannon hit a loose rock outcropping causing a small avalanche burying some spiders and scattering the rest. While most of the spiders were nimble enough to escape, very few goblins could remain on their mounts in those conditions and thus tumbled down the slopes along with the rocks.

A goblin staggered up from the ground, dizzy but unhurt. No matter what happens to a group of goblins there always seemed to be one that survives every disaster. Not pushing his luck, he decided to hide behind a boulder and wait out the battle there, not knowing that a wounded spider, now masterless, was using the same hiding place and needed fresh blood to have the strength to get back over the slope.

Momentarily distracted by the satisfying rock falls, and the amusing fate of the goblin “survivor,” it took a yelp from Mordrek to alert Renliss to a change in the front lines. Mordrek was clutching his temples and wincing from pain. With all his magical defenses trying to keep his brains from spilling out his ears, there was nothing he could do to stop a green hand from picking up a mob of Savage Orcs and delivering them on the other side of the bottleneck. Now hemmed both sides by magically augmented troops, the undead in the front were crumbling in the front lines. Even the Tileans were forced to fight hand-to-hand. What started as a simple slaughter threatened to become a debacle with the arrival of no less than three savage orc shamans.

Renliss parted a gap in his reserves to allow his master’s new conveyance to enter the battle. The massive reanimated Stegadon was brimming with power from all the magic being cast. Now more potent in death than it was in life, it stomped and gored every orc within reach. The Stegadon was finally giving the frenzied orcs pause (and scaring off their weaker-willed Tileans). Renliss reached out his dark power over the battlefield and began reanimating the fallen skeletons and zombies in the frontline anew, as well as the fallen orcs. With the battle once more going his way, it was time to take care of the shamans. Like true orc leaders they had moved to the front, and Renliss wanted to make sure he got to them before all their magical blood was spilt. Renliss pulled the large obsidian sword he won from the Scar Veteran he beat and preceded to the front of the line.

The last of the lesser shamans was squashed flat by the zombie Stegadon just before Renliss could reach him. Renliss was mainly interested in the leader who was surrounded by a growing pile of crumpled skeletons. Mighty as he was, the burn scar covered savage was no match for Renliss. Renliss swung his stolen blade and chopped the shamans hands off at the wrist, to remove the threat while spilling relatively little blood. Renliss finished the job of slaying him at his leisure.

Renliss hated drinking the blood of greenskins as a rule, but he couldn’t resist the power offered by this potent shaman. It was expected that the side effects would be severe, so Modrek was ready to cover for him. The taste was foul. In addition to the normal sensations that hit his palate from drinking orc blood, he tasted a very strong hint of sulfur. The accompanying visions were truly overwhelming.

While a captain of the Empire, he had a general who insisted his captains learn the greenskin’s tongue, to fight them better supposedly. Renliss never bothered. He knew enough of their foul dialect to notice that the greenskins he fought mentioned Gork and Mork noticeably less than others he fought back in the Old World. If he paid more attention to his language lessons he might have been able to make more sense of the deluge of visions going through his head. Perhaps not given the dialect differences between Badlands orcs and Lustrian Savage Orcs. Several dances and ritual fights. Lots of goblins getting kicked around. He saw this tribe worshiped a geyser alongside the usual orc gods and their leaders would run through the boiling eruptions to prove their mettle. They also cooked most of their food by putting their meat on geysers rather than consuming it raw, hence both the shaman’s burn scars and the taste of sulfur in his blood. The greenskins never seemed to venture far from their blighted wasteland. Renliss despaired that he was going to gain no useful information, just replays of their pathetic rituals. There was one thing that shown through. Divinations derived from the entrails of numerous ritually sacrificed creatures.

“The geysers of the sky will split open! Magic storm coming!”

No one heard this garbled pronouncement. Modrek was busy trying and failing to shield his master from view, but he couldn’t hide the regal lord’s flailing and grunting form the Tileans.

The Stegadon was already resting and they were relatively close to the boats. Antonio figured this was their best chance now that the cannon was empty.

“Strike now!”

Modrek was struck by three bolts and crumpled to the ground. A number of skeletons were struck. Once most of the skeletons nearest to Renliss were struck down, Antonio personally aimed a bolt with five darts tied to it and pierced Renliss chest. Renliss slowly slumped to the ground. All the undead soldiers froze and stood still. The Tileans began to cheer.

“They should be crumbling. I’m going to chop his head off to be sure.”

Antonio drew his sword and walked to Renliss’ prone form only to find his foe almost float to his feet straight backed and grinning widely. He plucked the crossbow bolt from his chest.

“Antonio, did you know that to make their poison dangerous to undead the Lizardmen bless it to their god Chotec?”

The Tilean paymaster stood silent, his mouth gaping open in shock.

“No? Then you probably don’t know that the enchantment only lasts a single lunar cycle. I know this, and now you know it too.”

He pulled the parchment out on which his hastily jotted down notes from the memories of the skink priest he drained and tossed it to the ground. He then thrust the crossbow bolt into the Tilean. It took a lot of patience to set up the needlessly dramatic reversal of the betrayal. It was even harder to set it up as planned while he was fighting the savage orc’s impulses. Now that the subterfuge was over he stopped restraining those impulses and mashed every Tilean to a pulp he could reach.

Afterwards, Renliss forces had increased dramatically in size. All the more or less intact orc and Tilean corpses were animated. The rest replenished the corpse cart. Renliss’ blood lust was fully satiated for the time being so the few surviving Tileans were ritually sacrificed to feed Modrek’s life force and help him recuperate from his wounds faster. Calmed down considerably, Renliss decided to consult with his master’s remains again.

When the Storm of Magic hits is the time to strike against the Lizardmen!

“But if the orc saw this coming, surely the Slann did as well. I’m guessing they can harness the power far better than Modrek and myself.”

They are so used to casting magic in normal times that they will be more vulnerable than usual. The Storm will aid you more than them. Wait three days and nights and then begin a march southeast that will take you to the nearest Temple City at the moment the storm will hit
“How do you know that”
My mystical senses are stronger than they have ever been while my body is absent. I can see things you cannot imagine my childe. Rest, then prepare your forces for battle.

* * * * * *

Renliss had never seen a storm of magic, but he heard about them. He was not surprised to see strange ripples taking the forms of leering faces in the sky. He was not surprised that the sky’s hue was shifting between dark purple and green and back again. Then he heard his master’s voice from his casket resting on the re-animated Stegadon. Weaker and less confident than the other times.

Renlissssss…..hear me….the storm of magic gives me the strength to let me speak to you
“Master you have been speaking to me for weeks!”
Not me speaking…..you have been trickeddd…..The Slann impersonated me.

What happened next surprised him even more. For the third time since he became a vampire, Renliss felt his heart beat.

Even more unusual than the beating of his heart. While he could feel the lone beat as easily as ever, he could also feel his heart was not in his chest. He knew his heart was in an urn being held by a skink in front of a Slann. As the storm intensified he felt a foreign presence invade his mind. He fought back with all his strength, he knew he couldn’t prevail but all the experience plundering memories from the blood of wizards gave him some ability to handle the mind-to-mind contact better than his foe anticpated. He gained some tidbits of the memories of what could only be a Slann. Mostly incomprehensible flashes but he was able to understand the Slann’s tongue via their connection. A connection the Slann had forged to speak to Renliss in his master’s voice and language.

Renliss saw a Skink priest before him. He saw flashes of the past. Renliss was knocked unconscious by the poisonous dart and the priest had removed his heart with something he called the Fang of Tepok. Now it was in an urn held by the Desserex’s attendant.

“Keep me appraised of the movements of invaders, but hold our troops back, I don’t want to lose any more soldiers needlessly. I will direct the vampire towards them to break this force as well. Only use our soldiers to hunt the survivors.”

That was the last he got before he lost his struggle with the Slann completely. The Slann chose to speak to him in the voice of Renliss’ sire

I see you are no longer an ignorant pawn, my childe, The last two words were dripping with contempt and irony.

“Your charade is over, TOAD!”

It matters not that you know who I am, you can no more resist my commands than the skeleton soldiers can resist yours. You never would have been able to march around with an army of undead Lizardmen if I hadn’t allowed you to. You liked drinking the blood of elves before, now I am ALLOWING you to do it again. Your forces will take point. Tell Modrek to form a defensive formation with the zombies around the fulcrum I’m guiding you towards. Then we’ll see which targets are worthy of your personal touch.

Renliss would have scowled but the control over him was absolute and his expression didn’t show his horrible fury. He even intensified his mystical and psychological hold over Modrek when he was questioning his unusual orders. Mentally he was screaming at the Slann.

“I will beat this! Then I will feast on your blood!”
You have to survive the battle first to get revenge. Start with that hydra. Oh, while I can’t really be distracted by your infantile railing, I’d prefer not to deal with it. I order you to silence your insolence. To get the blade you are using to enflame itself, say ‘Chotec kas-nar.’”

Unable to maintain his focus on revenge, Renliss pushed it to the back of his mind and concentrated on the battle again. He would survive this and find his opening, just like Antonio did against him, only HE would succeed.

 

Glad you like him. Renliss is my main recurring character. In fact, this is the FIRST fluff piece I wrote for L-O. I am pleased that it still draws traffic. Renliss gets a cameo in The Fall of Turochitan, Divided We Fall, and Legacies. He has a major supporting role in Dead Water. He also gets mentioned in passing in other stories, he was a minor red herring in the "Orphaned Temple City".

 

That does go along with my original plan. Whenever there is a Storm of Magic Renliss goes into puppet mode. Tabletop wise every Storm of Magic game I play will include my Renliss model. Fiction-wise, I don't intend to overuse Storms of Magic. They are a major deus ex machina.

 

Love it!