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Description

"The bloodsucker can’t have gotten far," the ironclad clergyman exclaimed, rubbing found blood between thumb and forefinger. "We’ll raze this forest if we must and finish what we started. Take heed, the Flame will keep us safe. To the cinders returneth all.” "To the cinders returneth all." Bishop Harold’s words sparked new vigor in his men, unknowingly to himself as well. They had gotten the jump on the vampire earlier. It had lost so much blood, returned from the veil a myriad of times, all that really remained was severing the head. Vampires were indeed immortal, but night invincible. Like a battle of attrition, the vampires would always win. But given the cunning and the wit a group of well-trained men could best them. Still, the task remained a dangerous one. The Bishop's anxiety beaded across his forehead. Tensely turning the nozzle, the burner released an emissive glimmer of hope.

The forest was choked with silence, the wind had such palpable stillness, one could hear a petal graze the earth. "We'll split into two groups. Bishop Oswald will take you three," Bishop Harold pointed. "The rest will come with me. We can't break line of sight, the forest is too thick for signal flares. Stay close. Upon contact, we'll flank him and pincer the wretch." The Order of Pyre has dealt with vampires before. The blasphemers terrorized the people of Purgareth since time immemorial, kidnapping men, women and children. Humans were like lambs to slaughter, even with the Order of Pyre barely clutched humanity from extinction. All of that changed when the rifts began to open. Now the vampires weren't the only alpha hunters, and now, became one of the hunted.
The deeper the clergy delved and searched, the thicker the fog, like a cobweb slowing their movement and impairing their vision. A cold dread crept up Harold's spine, it had been too long since they found their prey. They should have found him by now. That dread was realized manifesting into a hulking, shrieking black flash. It swept up Oswald and his men. The candles upon their burners and helmets, devoured by the darkness. Squinting through the metal slit, the bishop could make out nothing. Darkness. A churning medley of crunching, clawing and screaming. The conviction to act and the will to live warred in the minds of the surviving group. Within the darkness, two unwavering white glowing spheres shifted toward them from the shadows. Those eyes and sockets bore an unsettling structure, not unlike a human's. The sound that followed next, like a dying animal bellowing, stifling whatever resolve the men had left. " You seeee what we must do noooow?" It said with a trailing sigh followed by a death-rattling inhale. " Hearrrrtsss....yessss the hearts of those mighty creeeeaturesss were the keeeeey. Noooww, we feeeed....we must....FEEEED!" It spoke? Harold mused, much too long. The thing lunged out of the darkness toward them. The trees obstructing its path, splintered against it. "Burners!" The three remaining men set the brush ablaze. Unfazed, the monster emerged from the blazing inferno, its hands grasping toward them. The bishop dove, as much as one could with armor and burner tank in tow. The two men beside him were snatched as the creature unfurled its wings and lofted into the canopy. The screams were squelched and it was quiet. "Run, run now you fool!" The bishop berated himself. He rose to his feet and made for the edge of the forest.

Twisting and turning, all bearing was lost. Crackling branches and rustling leaves grew louder and louder. Bishop Harold pressed himself against a nearby tree, echoing heaving breathes within the helmet almost drowned out the sound from the forest. A crashing thud, complimented by crackling breathing. Closer and closer. He could hear the thing, creeping around the tree. This forest was his tomb now, he knew. No plea, no prayer or bargain would save him. If the shadows were to claim him tonight then let his light burn brightly, and fiercely. He inhaled, and with collected resolve, he uttered, "To the cinders returneth all." And he turned...to face his fate.

Description

"The bloodsucker can’t have gotten far," the ironclad clergyman exclaimed, rubbing found blood between thumb and forefinger. "We’ll raze this forest if we must and finish what we started. Take heed, the Flame will keep us safe. To the cinders returneth all.” "To the cinders returneth all." Bishop Harold’s words sparked new vigor in his men, unknowingly to himself as well. They had gotten the jump on the vampire earlier. It had lost so much blood, returned from the veil a myriad of times, all that really remained was severing the head. Vampires were indeed immortal, but night invincible. Like a battle of attrition, the vampires would always win. But given the cunning and the wit a group of well-trained men could best them. Still, the task remained a dangerous one. The Bishop's anxiety beaded across his forehead. Tensely turning the nozzle, the burner released an emissive glimmer of hope.

The forest was choked with silence, the wind had such palpable stillness, one could hear a petal graze the earth. "We'll split into two groups. Bishop Oswald will take you three," Bishop Harold pointed. "The rest will come with me. We can't break line of sight, the forest is too thick for signal flares. Stay close. Upon contact, we'll flank him and pincer the wretch." The Order of Pyre has dealt with vampires before. The blasphemers terrorized the people of Purgareth since time immemorial, kidnapping men, women and children. Humans were like lambs to slaughter, even with the Order of Pyre barely clutched humanity from extinction. All of that changed when the rifts began to open. Now the vampires weren't the only alpha hunters, and now, became one of the hunted.
The deeper the clergy delved and searched, the thicker the fog, like a cobweb slowing their movement and impairing their vision. A cold dread crept up Harold's spine, it had been too long since they found their prey. They should have found him by now. That dread was realized manifesting into a hulking, shrieking black flash. It swept up Oswald and his men. The candles upon their burners and helmets, devoured by the darkness. Squinting through the metal slit, the bishop could make out nothing. Darkness. A churning medley of crunching, clawing and screaming. The conviction to act and the will to live warred in the minds of the surviving group. Within the darkness, two unwavering white glowing spheres shifted toward them from the shadows. Those eyes and sockets bore an unsettling structure, not unlike a human's. The sound that followed next, like a dying animal bellowing, stifling whatever resolve the men had left. " You seeee what we must do noooow?" It said with a trailing sigh followed by a death-rattling inhale. " Hearrrrtsss....yessss the hearts of those mighty creeeeaturesss were the keeeeey. Noooww, we feeeed....we must....FEEEED!" It spoke? Harold mused, much too long. The thing lunged out of the darkness toward them. The trees obstructing its path, splintered against it. "Burners!" The three remaining men set the brush ablaze. Unfazed, the monster emerged from the blazing inferno, its hands grasping toward them. The bishop dove, as much as one could with armor and burner tank in tow. The two men beside him were snatched as the creature unfurled its wings and lofted into the canopy. The screams were squelched and it was quiet. "Run, run now you fool!" The bishop berated himself. He rose to his feet and made for the edge of the forest.

Twisting and turning, all bearing was lost. Crackling branches and rustling leaves grew louder and louder. Bishop Harold pressed himself against a nearby tree, echoing heaving breathes within the helmet almost drowned out the sound from the forest. A crashing thud, complimented by crackling breathing. Closer and closer. He could hear the thing, creeping around the tree. This forest was his tomb now, he knew. No plea, no prayer or bargain would save him. If the shadows were to claim him tonight then let his light burn brightly, and fiercely. He inhaled, and with collected resolve, he uttered, "To the cinders returneth all." And he turned...to face his fate.