Fath Nilkinem immigrated to the fortress Ambertown in 153, fleeing poverty and corruption in the mountainhomes with his family. He had been a member of the militia for several years in the mountainhome, and still remembered some of his training. He knew he was no match for a trained soldier, but he still had more experience than any of the other citizens of Ambertown. The blacksmith used nearly their entire stock of iron forging a suit of platemail and a finely crafted glaive for Fath, gifting them to him on the day he accepted the position of commander in the nonexistant militia. From that day, he dedicated his days to training tirelessly, alone. In his few spare moments, he assisted in the ongoing construction of the walls and keep.
In the spring of 154, Ambertown was running dangerously low on food. Attempts to barter with the elven caravan had failed when a mason accidentally offered a wooden bin full of stone harps; the pointy-ears left in disgust. The westerling merchants, with typical human pride, turned their noses down on what few products Ambertown had to offer. Fath met with the expedition leader and several prominent members of the community, and they regretfully concluded that drastic measures were required. Fath donned his armor, hefted his glaive, and strode up the ramps to the trade depot, only to find it empty. The westerlings had already departed. Fath rushed to the outer gates, and, with a mixture of shame and relief, saw that their wagons were only a short distance away. He crossed the ground in moments, and cut down two of the guards before they knew that he was upon them. The others turned to face him, shouting in their barbaric tongue. He ignored them, dodging towards his true target. He struck down each of the merchants in turn, their draft animals fleeing the scent of blood. Atop one of the halted wagons, he returned his attention to the outraged guards. He dispatched one, then another, in quick succession. The final three eyed the bodies of their comrades, and broke for the border of Ambertown's territory. Fath gladly let them go, and motioned to the civilians that they could collect the food from the westerling wagons. As hungry children clambered up, prying open barrels stuffed with fruits, meats, and cheeses, he sunk to his knees, soaked in the blood of the innocent. That day, he took the title Bothonthukkan, "Murky Amber". He was the blade of Ambertown, stained with blood shed in impure actions that others may live in peace.
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Several months later, Fath was returning from his pursuit of a daemonic ambush. Thankfully, few of the others had been outside, and the daemons had been spotted by a lookout. He had slain two; the others had fled, though one took a bolt to the throat as he rushed past a returning hunter, and had swiftly bled out on the rough granite cobbles. As he approached the gates, Fath noticed a strange figure walking alongside the lead human wagon. The... human? was shrouded in a black cloak, and seemed rather pale. His arms were coated in layers of bone jewelry, crowns of bone sat upon his shapely head, and the lobes of his ears were stretched nearly to his shoulders by the sheer weight of bone and hair rings piercing them. Fath motioned one of the human guards over, and gestured towards the tall human.
"Who's that bloke, then?"
"Oh, that is His Grace, Lawgiver of the Confederation of Flowers. He's basically a king, only he isn't called it."
Fath mulled this over for a moment, but was broken from his thoughts by a rather toothy grin from the lawgiver. Fath's thoughts raced, and he hit upon an old memory, from long ago, when he was nearly a child. A string of deaths in the mountainhome, ending with a confrontation with a dwarf weighed down with bone jewelry, who fled into the night. Whispers in the night for months later. 'Vampire', the adults had called it. Fath's face tightened as he strode back into the fortress. The lawgiver would be here to meet with the Baroness, of course.
He turned to one of the farmers working the outdoor fields, "You wouldn't happen to know where Etur is, would you, Obok?"
"Ah, the last I heard, she was helping the other miners with the new workings near the hospital."
"Thank you!"
"Wait, what did yo-"
"No time!"
Fath pushed through the crowded halls of the keep, past human merchants and guards, dwarven workers and children, jumping down the first level of the central spiral. With a hand on the column, he quickly slid down the ramps to the hospital level, jumping out towards the freshly dug tunnel. Fath ran down the narrow passage, literally climbing over a miner.
"Datan, did that human come this way?"
"Yeah, he chased me out, told me not to spy on his meeting with Etur. Lousy humans, some times I wonder why we bother treating with them at all."
Fath continued down the tunnel until he reached a branching point. He hesitated for a moment, but turned down the left fork, following the sound of a pair of voices.
"I told you, we can meet after I finish work here, human."
"Baroness, this is most important for the future of our peoples. I must insist."
"Later, I said. Are your ears clogged, human?"
"Very well. I believe we are finis-"
The lawgiver cut off with a yelp as a dwarf clad in bloodstained armor leapt over the Baroness. Fath thrust his glaive home, splitting the lawgiver's head nearly in two with a single motion.
As the dead "human" fell to the ground, a veritable explosion of human bone and hair jewelry flooded the tunnel nearly halfway to the ceiling.
"Damn vampires."
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Just a short little thing I felt like writing up. I hope someone enjoyed it. Let that be a lesson to vampires: at least bother disguising yourselves, or a short, bearded little man might stab you in the face.
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Topic: Fath Nilkinem Bothonthukkan (Read 4578 times)