Daniel Mitchell

The Vlishgnath Chronicles


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Alexanders scoffed, waving their hands in a dismissive gesture. “Spare me your meaningless attempts at insult. Soon you and your fellow church knights will be dead, and over time your names forgotten. I am to become timeless, a chronicler of events as history unfolds before me.”

      With another gesture, a lightning bolt issued forth from the Alexanders’ fingertips, this time catching Thunderclese off guard. Striking him in his right side, the electric energy coursed through his armor, bringing him to one knee.

      Grunting angrily, Thunderclese rose to a standing position once more, continuing to walk about slowly, eyeing each of the images in turn. “You and your father are nothing more than a stain, an unsightly blemish to be removed before it causes infection. With the portal closed, you no longer have access to the outside world. I would say your mission has failed.”

      “Ah, but that is where you are wrong, church knight. The close of the rift is only temporary; soon, father will perform the final rite and establish a permanent link to the material plane. Then, Belphegor shall claim the realm of man as his own. Those who prove themselves of value shall be exalted, while the rest shall fall victim to Belphegor’s eternal hunger.”

      Raising both hands above their heads quickly, the likenesses of Alexander spewed forth more lightning, this time in a condensed sphere form that honed in on Thunderclese. Brought to both knees and forced to lurch over in pain, Thunderclese took a longer moment before standing up again, continuing to watch the figures as they circled him.

      “And you truly believe in this evil god of yours?” Thunderclese asked. “You think you shall be spared while all others fall victim to a herald of total destruction?”

      “I do not deal in beliefs as you do, church knight. Beliefs are for those incapable of discerning the truth on their own. Clergymen grow fat on the offerings of the mindless masses, peddling beliefs as a way of extorting wealth. I have seen the elder god Belphegor with my own eyes. Take comfort in the fact that when I kill you, your soul shall join the countless others father has offered up as tribute, and you will see firsthand the might of a true deity.”

      “So he finally swayed you then.”

      The images of Alexander scoffed one final time. “I’ve had enough of you.”

      And at that, they drew up their hands, gathering what looked to be a particularly deadly amount of raw arcane energy.

      It was then that Thunderclese took off running, straight at one of the figures that had been circling him. A sudden look of sheer terror came over all eight faces at once. Alexander was unable to break the spell he had been preparing, forced to watch helplessly as Thunderclese charged right at him, leaping into the air and drawing back his sword, driving the point down into the spot between Alexander’s neck and collarbone and cleaving effortlessly through flesh to sever his heart from its major arteries. The seven other images of Alexander blinked out, and the one remaining quickly began to grow a dull gray, sinking to his knees.

      Thunderclese withdrew his sword, blood gushing from the massive hole above Alexander’s collarbone as the wizard’s heart frantically pumped blood in a desperate attempt to supply his body with oxygen.

      Alexander coughed and sputtered, able to only get a single word out. “H-How?”

      Thunderclese nonchalantly took out a rag, wiping the blood from his sword, not deigning to look at Alexander as he spoke. “I paid attention to which direction I was being struck from. I was almost certain after the first time, and the second one confirmed your true location.” Then, turning to look at Alexander and taking on a tone of mock surprise, “Oh, you didn’t consider that?”

      Alexander stared blankly at Thunderclese, blood flowing from his gaping mouth. Then, with one last gurgle, Alexander LeFay slumped over onto the floor, his body going completely still.

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      Vlishgnath walked slowly but purposefully down the eastern walkway, where Jonathan stood in front of the doors to his study.

      Still scowling in disgust, Jonathan called out to Vlishgnath. “You don’t honestly think you can best me, do you boy?”

      Vlishgnath, carrying Retribution at his side with the tip pointed at the ground, continued his march towards the baron.

      Jonathan took a few unnerved steps back towards his study. “You’re a fool to think you can withstand the power of Belphegor! Behold how I can command his army of demons from the ancient times!” That being said, Jonathan held out his hand with his palm facing upward, making a rising gesture.

      Five pools of shadow formed on the ground, each one spewing forth a grotesque purple demon like the ones they had encountered outside of the church back in Drenton. The demons howled and hissed as if painfully being wrenched from where they came from.

      Then, pointing his finger at Vlishgnath, Jonathan barked his command. “Feast upon his flesh!”

      The demons growled lowly, sniffing at the air like feral animals as they caught Vlishgnath’s scent, then began charging down the walkway on all fours towards him. The one furthest from Jonathan reached Vlishgnath first. Leading with his shield, Vlishgnath hurdled the demon, doing a forward roll over its back and landing on his feet behind it. Simultaneously, the demon spun around and swung wildly with its claws, meeting the carefully positioned front of Vlishgnath’s kite shield. At the same time, Retribution found its first mark, burying into the shoulder of a second demon in front of him, right beside its neck, the creature too startled from suddenly being face to face with the paladin to properly defend itself. The third demon in line hastily scrambled over the dead body of the second, Vlishgnath spinning about to bring his kite shield around in a powerful bashing motion, slamming into the third demon and knocking it back into the fourth, while at the same time bringing Retribution around in a powerful vertical upward slash, catching the first demon in the torso and letting Retribution slide through its flesh as it seared the creature with its radiant energy.

      As the first demon fell to the ground howling in pain, Vlishgnath turned back to face the third just in time for its recovery. The creature raced towards him on its feet and knuckles, Vlishgnath continuing his dance-like maneuvering and bringing the point of Retribution down in a strong thrust, catching the creature between the shoulder blades just as it lunged towards him, effectively pinning it to the ground. The fourth demon was right behind it, however, and with his kite shield already drawn back, Vlishgnath brought the edge of his shield forward in a punch, catching the fourth demon in the bridge of its nose and sending it reeling back.

      The fifth and final demon sought to take advantage of Vlishgnath’s prone position, leaping straight forward at him and wrapping its arms around his neck. Vlishgnath stumbled back, struggling with the creature as it tried to pry his helmet from his head. Leaving Retribution sticking out of the third demon for a moment, Vlishgnath deftly drew a dagger from a sheath in the back of his belt, bringing his arm around and plunging it into the back of the demon that had latched onto him. The creature let out an inhuman scream, falling from Vlishgnath as it frantically tried to reach for the dagger in its back to no avail.

      Reaching down and grasping the handle of Retribution, still searing away at the insides of the demon it had impaled, Vlishgnath retrieved the blade and advanced on the fourth demon, which clawed weakly at his plated boots, most of its face caved in from the previous shield impact. A forceful thrust and a sudden twist provided it with a quick, merciful death.

      Jonathan watched on, his face etched in anger as his demons were slaughtered. Vlishgnath paused after finishing off the fifth demon, plucking his dagger from the creature’s back and looking up at Jonathan in stern warning before he resumed his approach.

      Standing on the walkway in front of his study, Jonathan reached out with both hands, a sinister shadowy mace materializing in his right and a round shield made of an ebony metal in his left. Shifting his right foot back, Jonathan brought the mace into a high back position, perched dangerously in the air behind his head, ready to strike.

      As Vlishgnath drew near, he stopped, pointed the