Slann
Scalenex
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Most of my fluff pieces are tied in the same narrative and build on each other. Despite this I have done my best to make all my stories capable of standing alone. This one does not stand alone very well. This sequel is so closely tied to Legacies that reading this story will probably be unsatisfying or confusing (and spoil Legacies like crazy if you read this one first)
To a lesser extant, this builds on Count Renliss' Journey to Lustria and the Fall of Turochlitan but all you really need from that is Renliss = scheming Lustrian vampire lord and Kayishen = Spiteful banshee well versed in Lizardmen culture
I would like to thank Spawning of Bob for his help on this story. He has been helping me edit a lot of my pieces, but he went above and beyond to help me with this. Not only did he proof read this, but he came up with a number of the supporting story elements.
Without further ado, please enjoy Dead Water.
Part One: Reconnaissance
Grand Commodore Harkon paced the deck aboard a beached vessel. The ship he was on was probably a very impressive vessel years ago, but the gaping hole in the hull revealed it would never sail again. Despite this, the ships rigging was set and a full contingent of crewmen stood completely silently and flawlessly at attention, the way only statues and the undead could pull off. The vampire turned to the nearest officer, a zombie distinguishable from his fellows by gold trim on his clothing and a less visible state of decay. His sword was even rust free, implying it was either magical or Harkon bothered to have it cleaned regularly.
“Mr. Anders have the sentries detected anything?”
The zombie stood silently. After a few moments, Luthor Harkon spoke again.
“Very well, have the men keep searching.”
He paced the deck some more.
“Mr. Wilson, how fare our provisions?”
The zombie stood silently. After about ten minutes, Harkon spoke again.
“Very well, cut the grog rations by a quartile until we can restock the supplies.”
He sharply turned to a rank and file zombie in the third row.
“I heard that! Insubordination! Mr. Wilson, I want this man flogged a twenty times come sunset!”
Huan-kai sat in a tree and continued to watch the odd Human vampire yell orders and reprimands at his nonresponsive crew. Chameleon Skinks can stand perfectly still for hours. Since becoming a vampire, he could stay perfectly still for days. Moving only to fend off the coconut crabs, which alone of all creatures in the animal kingdom seemed not to be repulsed by the undead and highly interested in eating his toes.
As time wore on, Harkon’s one-sided conversations only got more confusing. He wondered if he was mistranslating the vampire’s Reikspiel words. Sometimes he talked about supplies the zombies weren’t using. Sometimes he talked about raising or lowering their pay. Huan-kai was only vaguely familiar with the Human concept of currency, but he was fairly certain that reanimated dead men do not normally get paid.
Renliss could command his basest minions with his mind alone. Even Kayishen rarely needed to speak commands to could get modest numbers of undead to follow her lead (though she seemed to like speaking commands out of nostalgia for her breathing days). Huan-kai was just beginning to learn to command lesser undead, and he didn’t ever bother speaking to them. He didn’t like using Reikspiel if he could help it, and talking to zombies in Saurian seemed weird, or even blasphemous. He had enough experience with telepathy that issuing mental commands just seemed more natural though it made him feel a bit like a Slann. That both excited and disgusted him.
It also seemed to be easier. No reason to talk to something without a true mind. These zombies were all mindless…or were they? Vampires only needed to speak to their sapient minions: other vampires, necromancers, some spirits, and some wights, yet Harkon insisted on having lengthy discussions with zombies which were barely sentient, much less possessing any semblance of will.
The zombies were mostly Human with a few Elves and Ogres mixed in. They showed considerably variety in how they were dressed and their post-mortem state. Some seemed dried up like leather while others were completely bloated or waterlogged. The zombie ranks held every permutation in between. There was a relative lack of amputees for zombies. A few had peg legs or hook hands, but Harkon’s men looked a lot more together than Renliss’ men. There were also some wolf zombies…no dog zombies. Renliss had explained the difference between dogs and wolves when he commented on how similar dogs and huagerdons seemed to be. The dogs milled around the Humanoid crews while sniffing things and wagging their tails. The dogs acted closer to their original living selves than any undead Huan-kai had ever seen before.
Huan-kai wondered if Harkon was a strong necromancer or just a stickler for complete zombies Even Renliss would abandon zombies mutilated beyond a certain point and Harkon could have simply set a stricter threshold. Then Huan-kai saw one of the sailor zombie’s arms fall off. Harkon ordered it beaten for its insubordination because of this. Then the mangled corpse pieces were tossed into the surf. Over the course of about twenty minutes the pieces came together again and the newly re-reanimated zombie joined a column patrolling the beach. Weird.
The idea that hundreds of zombies could be sapient and telepathic was absurd, but Huan-kai had to know for certain. He reached out his mind to contact one of the first officers and nothing happened. When he first became a vampire, Huan-kai often had mishaps using his old spells and cantrips, but that awkwardness with spellcasting had gone away long ago, or so he thought. Reading minds was one of Huan-kai’s most intrinsic powers and his cantrip still fizzled. Glad Kayishen can’t see my failed attempt, I’d never hear the end of it. He tried reaching out once more. Again nothing happened, although this time he was pretty sure the spell worked. The zombie’s mind was simply not capable of forming coherent verbal thoughts.
Huan-kai noticed his scales turning back to dark grey. He had lost his natural color change ability when he died, but as soon as he got a renewed grasp on his Shadow magic, he tirelessly worked on developing a camouflaging cantrip which he had been maintaining since he began his stakeout. Now even that simple magic was failing him too.
Fortunately, it was a few hours till sunrise, so his dead gray skin still blended in reasonably well with his surroundings in the dark. Huan-kai still shivered nervously, a body reflex he rarely experienced when alive. One impulse from his living days that he had yet to lose was a strong desire to remain hidden at all times. If a Chameleon Skink finds himself in a situation where his camouflage doesn’t work the first instinct is to flee immediately. He tried to reactivate his color change cantrip. Again, nothing happened.
Mystical senses are different from one caster to the next, Huan-kai usually felt mystic awareness tactilely as a second kind of moisture. As he understood it, the magic had gone dry around the strange vampire. Magic was second nature to him, so he felt even more exposed without his sorcery than he did without his concealment.
Huan-kai tried to gracefully exit his tree, but he knocked a branch on the way down which made a fairly audible thunk on the ground. At least a hundred zombies snapped to attention and turned towards him as one.
Mahrlect!
Even a wet worker caste Skink should be able to quietly climb down a tree. Huan-kai’s senses were sharper and his body was much stronger and more resilient than before, but his new (old?) body felt clumsy now. Hopefully these zombies aren’t any faster than their landlocked cousins. He sprinted away from Harkon’s makeshift port. Huan-kai couldn’t manage an all-out sprint like he could while alive, but now he could run at a moderate pace for a very long time without tiring. As soon as he felt the magical dryness dissipate, he concentrated as hard as he could and was soon carried away in the dark talons of a Shadow construct Terradon.
Once back at Renliss’ camp the various undead soldiers parted to make a path for him. Normally Renliss didn’t bother with things like that.
Great, he’s impatient! I was the one crouched in a tree for three days fending off coconut crabs…
Huan-kai gave a mental sigh and trudged forward (physical sighs went away long ago since he only needed to breathe to speak). Renliss looked at him expectantly.
“Well? What have you learned?”
“Lord Renlissss, I have learned that Luthor Harkon’ssss mental canopy is missing some leavesss.”
To a lesser extant, this builds on Count Renliss' Journey to Lustria and the Fall of Turochlitan but all you really need from that is Renliss = scheming Lustrian vampire lord and Kayishen = Spiteful banshee well versed in Lizardmen culture
I would like to thank Spawning of Bob for his help on this story. He has been helping me edit a lot of my pieces, but he went above and beyond to help me with this. Not only did he proof read this, but he came up with a number of the supporting story elements.
Without further ado, please enjoy Dead Water.
Part One: Reconnaissance
Grand Commodore Harkon paced the deck aboard a beached vessel. The ship he was on was probably a very impressive vessel years ago, but the gaping hole in the hull revealed it would never sail again. Despite this, the ships rigging was set and a full contingent of crewmen stood completely silently and flawlessly at attention, the way only statues and the undead could pull off. The vampire turned to the nearest officer, a zombie distinguishable from his fellows by gold trim on his clothing and a less visible state of decay. His sword was even rust free, implying it was either magical or Harkon bothered to have it cleaned regularly.
“Mr. Anders have the sentries detected anything?”
The zombie stood silently. After a few moments, Luthor Harkon spoke again.
“Very well, have the men keep searching.”
He paced the deck some more.
“Mr. Wilson, how fare our provisions?”
The zombie stood silently. After about ten minutes, Harkon spoke again.
“Very well, cut the grog rations by a quartile until we can restock the supplies.”
He sharply turned to a rank and file zombie in the third row.
“I heard that! Insubordination! Mr. Wilson, I want this man flogged a twenty times come sunset!”
Huan-kai sat in a tree and continued to watch the odd Human vampire yell orders and reprimands at his nonresponsive crew. Chameleon Skinks can stand perfectly still for hours. Since becoming a vampire, he could stay perfectly still for days. Moving only to fend off the coconut crabs, which alone of all creatures in the animal kingdom seemed not to be repulsed by the undead and highly interested in eating his toes.
As time wore on, Harkon’s one-sided conversations only got more confusing. He wondered if he was mistranslating the vampire’s Reikspiel words. Sometimes he talked about supplies the zombies weren’t using. Sometimes he talked about raising or lowering their pay. Huan-kai was only vaguely familiar with the Human concept of currency, but he was fairly certain that reanimated dead men do not normally get paid.
Renliss could command his basest minions with his mind alone. Even Kayishen rarely needed to speak commands to could get modest numbers of undead to follow her lead (though she seemed to like speaking commands out of nostalgia for her breathing days). Huan-kai was just beginning to learn to command lesser undead, and he didn’t ever bother speaking to them. He didn’t like using Reikspiel if he could help it, and talking to zombies in Saurian seemed weird, or even blasphemous. He had enough experience with telepathy that issuing mental commands just seemed more natural though it made him feel a bit like a Slann. That both excited and disgusted him.
It also seemed to be easier. No reason to talk to something without a true mind. These zombies were all mindless…or were they? Vampires only needed to speak to their sapient minions: other vampires, necromancers, some spirits, and some wights, yet Harkon insisted on having lengthy discussions with zombies which were barely sentient, much less possessing any semblance of will.
The zombies were mostly Human with a few Elves and Ogres mixed in. They showed considerably variety in how they were dressed and their post-mortem state. Some seemed dried up like leather while others were completely bloated or waterlogged. The zombie ranks held every permutation in between. There was a relative lack of amputees for zombies. A few had peg legs or hook hands, but Harkon’s men looked a lot more together than Renliss’ men. There were also some wolf zombies…no dog zombies. Renliss had explained the difference between dogs and wolves when he commented on how similar dogs and huagerdons seemed to be. The dogs milled around the Humanoid crews while sniffing things and wagging their tails. The dogs acted closer to their original living selves than any undead Huan-kai had ever seen before.
Huan-kai wondered if Harkon was a strong necromancer or just a stickler for complete zombies Even Renliss would abandon zombies mutilated beyond a certain point and Harkon could have simply set a stricter threshold. Then Huan-kai saw one of the sailor zombie’s arms fall off. Harkon ordered it beaten for its insubordination because of this. Then the mangled corpse pieces were tossed into the surf. Over the course of about twenty minutes the pieces came together again and the newly re-reanimated zombie joined a column patrolling the beach. Weird.
The idea that hundreds of zombies could be sapient and telepathic was absurd, but Huan-kai had to know for certain. He reached out his mind to contact one of the first officers and nothing happened. When he first became a vampire, Huan-kai often had mishaps using his old spells and cantrips, but that awkwardness with spellcasting had gone away long ago, or so he thought. Reading minds was one of Huan-kai’s most intrinsic powers and his cantrip still fizzled. Glad Kayishen can’t see my failed attempt, I’d never hear the end of it. He tried reaching out once more. Again nothing happened, although this time he was pretty sure the spell worked. The zombie’s mind was simply not capable of forming coherent verbal thoughts.
Huan-kai noticed his scales turning back to dark grey. He had lost his natural color change ability when he died, but as soon as he got a renewed grasp on his Shadow magic, he tirelessly worked on developing a camouflaging cantrip which he had been maintaining since he began his stakeout. Now even that simple magic was failing him too.
Fortunately, it was a few hours till sunrise, so his dead gray skin still blended in reasonably well with his surroundings in the dark. Huan-kai still shivered nervously, a body reflex he rarely experienced when alive. One impulse from his living days that he had yet to lose was a strong desire to remain hidden at all times. If a Chameleon Skink finds himself in a situation where his camouflage doesn’t work the first instinct is to flee immediately. He tried to reactivate his color change cantrip. Again, nothing happened.
Mystical senses are different from one caster to the next, Huan-kai usually felt mystic awareness tactilely as a second kind of moisture. As he understood it, the magic had gone dry around the strange vampire. Magic was second nature to him, so he felt even more exposed without his sorcery than he did without his concealment.
Huan-kai tried to gracefully exit his tree, but he knocked a branch on the way down which made a fairly audible thunk on the ground. At least a hundred zombies snapped to attention and turned towards him as one.
Mahrlect!
Even a wet worker caste Skink should be able to quietly climb down a tree. Huan-kai’s senses were sharper and his body was much stronger and more resilient than before, but his new (old?) body felt clumsy now. Hopefully these zombies aren’t any faster than their landlocked cousins. He sprinted away from Harkon’s makeshift port. Huan-kai couldn’t manage an all-out sprint like he could while alive, but now he could run at a moderate pace for a very long time without tiring. As soon as he felt the magical dryness dissipate, he concentrated as hard as he could and was soon carried away in the dark talons of a Shadow construct Terradon.
Once back at Renliss’ camp the various undead soldiers parted to make a path for him. Normally Renliss didn’t bother with things like that.
Great, he’s impatient! I was the one crouched in a tree for three days fending off coconut crabs…
Huan-kai gave a mental sigh and trudged forward (physical sighs went away long ago since he only needed to breathe to speak). Renliss looked at him expectantly.
“Well? What have you learned?”
“Lord Renlissss, I have learned that Luthor Harkon’ssss mental canopy is missing some leavesss.”
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