"Eh, Catten, y'sure this is a good idea?" Ushat said as he stared up at the towering fortress, the setting sun casting a shade that dyed the hateful architecture black, as if built by Slade. A dead kea laid on a bald spot of ground, likely a landing for the drawbridge. "B'side, how in Anoth's name ar w'supposed ta git in?"
"Bah" the tall markdwarf sneered. "I dun't see any broken wagons or dead merchants around. Shur'ly tha let visitors in. Jes that they dun't let them out."
'They', only Anoth knows who they are. Seven dwarves were sent out to build the fortress of Nulomshash, and with their toil, their fortress prospered, and turned into a Barony. Then, just as that, everything went quiet. Migrants avoided the cursed place, and merchants never returned. Soon, stories begun to circulate throughout Inod Zolak. The fortress was taken by demons, some say.
"Ay! Let uss'in, yer redskins, greenskins, w'ever yer are!" Catten yelled out. The fortress was an island, surrounded by deep, abyssal hills. Ushat gripped on his axe, and nudged the other five hidden in the cart to prepare.
Silence reigned, then a whisper came. It was a warped voice, nothing like a living being's. It was artificial. "Come and face your doom, fools." it rasped, and the great drawbridge heaved, crashing down in front of Catten. There was an awed silence, then he beckoned the other dwarf to follow. "W'see whose doom it is, yer monstrosity!" the reckless captain shouted again when they were finally inside. The drapes over the wagon was removed, and the others jumped off from it. They were all deathly quiet.
As they traversed the hallway, eyeing everything suspiciously to sense for traps, they found the passage devoid of danger. Intricate carvings can be seen, depicting the creation of the fortress.
Then, suddenly, as they moved deeper in, past the depot, the carving's subject suddenly turned into cats.
Lots of cats.
Cats and mechanisms.
It might be Ushat's imagination, but he could sworn he heard 'meow' in the distance. The humming of the machinery, though, was clearly heard. Then another remark from the mechanical voice broke the monotonous droning. "Servants of Anoth. Pah. Dwarves, to fall to such human lies. You shall see the face of true God soon enough."
"Who'd da hell are ye?" Catten said, seemingly the least scared of the group.
"Armok." it said tersely.
"A-armok?" Ushat suddenly stops, everything clicking into his mind. "Catten! We must leave!"
"Leave? What are ye talkin' abo-" the markdwarf never got the chance to meet his unseen assailant. A section of the walls snapped at blinding speed, and grounded him into red paste. As the wall relaxed again, red smears were lathered on them, Catten had been quite literally beaten to a pulp.
That was enough. The expedition ran in their own accord, and as if on cue, the fortress began to disassemble. Mechanical hands pried the stones apart into smaller blocks, and all the dwarves fell into the darkness.
Ushat woke up later, and pain wracked every parts of his body. He gradually rose, in agony. "Hm. A living one. Interesting." a voice said. It was definitely a dwarf, and his voice was weary. "A living one indeed, my dear Mosus." the mechanical voice piped in, and as Ushat's cave sense kicked in, he began to see an emaciated dwarf in a cage. His fangs were obvious, and only a fool wouldn't know it was a vampire. "Who are you?" he asked him, and 'Armok'.
"One of the lifeblood of my creation, of course. Mosus Gusilruthosh, the Vampire Baron of Blamedhells. And you, are the dinner of my children."
The mechanical being was blunt. Why else would he have piled corpses over here. But, what, are his 'children'? Demons?
Then his sense made him see, a pressure plate far above the vampire. He heard the some of small paws, and a click, then Mosus was lifted off.
The gates opened, and he could see their glowing eyes.
Cats.