So this was my initial draft. There's going to be a lot of editing and stuff, e.g. Jackal will be the hero of legend, which makes a lot more sense.
The legends say that in the year 250, the Last Queen drew all the evils from the world into one fortress, even going there herself to ensure that none of the demons contained within could escape to wreak havoc on the now peaceful lands. The place was named Steelhold, for the spells the Last Queen used to bind the demons were stronger even than the great dwarven metal, second only to the blue walls of Armok, and it seemed for a time that all would be well. But the archfiends of Steelhold were sly and desired freedom. The Baron posed as a friend, luring the Queen into the fortress with tales of escaping prisoners and fractures in reality itself. Her loyal companions were turned to the side of evil by the Witchdoctor, who granted them eternal life and eternal damnation. Among them was the Chainlord, he who steals children in the night, binding them with metal and magic to be his slaves and his meals until the end of time. It seemed the Queen was defeated and the archfiends would regain their freedom, but Armok himself was moved by her plight to send four of his champions to destroy the fortress. It is said that the battle lasted for hours, but the demons could not withstand His holy might and they were cast down, and Steelhold was engulfed in magma and obsidian.
What is known is that after Steelhold was mysteriously destroyed, three new creatures of the night appeared, each similar but distinct. For perhaps a hundred years they fought against the civilised creatures of the world (and the elves), but were repelled by a combination of superior numbers and better focus. The first recorded appearance of what can definitely be identified as one of the Bloodkin was in the year 375, though it is likely they were around much longer, their tendency to kill everyone involved in a battle being unhelpful when attempting to document them. Since that time, they wiped out almost all life on the continent. Those that could flee did, and those that could not died.
Their advantages appear to include agelessness, superdwarven strength, toughness and agility and an ability to heal that grants them near invulnerability. Their weakness, if they have one, is that they are often distracted by the blood of their victims, allowing others to escape once they have begun to feed. This, it goes without saying, is of little comfort to the victim. Faced with a seemingly invincible foe, the few that were able to flee did so, crossing the oceans in search of a new home. We can only hope that the Bloodkin will be satisfied with the lands and prisoners they have, for if they come again, only Armok himself can save us.
The king closed the book with a sigh. “This is what we must be prepared for.”
“But they’re just a children’s story!” the general exclaimed. “Lies that the refugees from the east told us to make us feel sorry for them!”
“My mother was one of those refugees, if you’d care to recall,” the king said quietly. “And if the Bloodkin are just her deranged fantasies, then explain the report your own scouts gave us.”
The general snorted. “A lone dwarf covered in scars. It was probably just some shell shocked veteran who was thrown out of his home.”
The king’s eyebrow arched magnificently. “The report claims he was twice as strong as a normal dwarf-”
“Vampire, then.”
“-and when they cut off one of his hands, it continued trying to kill them-”
“Vampire necromancer. I’ve seen it happen, a hero drinks the blood of a vampire accidentally, then decides to climb a tower once he realises that zombies aren’t so eager to attack him anymore.”
“-and though they cut him many times, he healed nearly instantly.”
“Vampire necromancer werebeast, then.”
“I don’t think that’s very likely, general.”
“No, what’s more likely is that some recruits with no experience panicked the first time they came across an enemy that was actually trying to kill them! If these ‘Bloodkin’ are so dangerous, how did it only kill one of the scouts?”
“The report claims that the others fled while their foe was busy devouring their comrade,” the king said, glancing at the battle report. “And I don’t plan to let these creatures take our lands because we were too busy arguing amongst ourselves to fight back.”
“Arguing amongst ourselves!?” the general spluttered. “The greenskins are getting bolder in their raids every year now that the elves think they have a peace treaty with them! We had three border disputes with the humans in the last year alone, and as for the treehuggers,” he turned to spit in disgust, then realised the king probably wouldn’t appreciate his golden floors being tarnished. “They smile at us and talk of peace, plotting ambush parties all the while. Your grace, we just don’t have the resources to waste building a stronghold against a threat that mightn’t even exist!”
“You’re right, of course,” the king nodded. “So I’m sending a group to strike the earth here,” he pointed at the gem encrusted map inlaid into the surface of his desk. “Seven dwarves in a strategic bottleneck can accomplish what a thousand couldn’t on an open battlefield. And even if I’m wrong, an extra source of income wouldn’t go astray.”
“But you think that they’re going to die there,” the general frowned.
“I’ve told them all what the situation is, and they seem eager for the challenge,” the king shrugged.
“And if they fail?” the general asked.
“Then we can only pray there are more lands to the west,” sighed the king.
* * * * *
Welcome to the Demon’s Gate; You Shall Not Pass.
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Topic: The Insidious Sons of Steelhold -- Revival Succession Fortress (Read 282211 times)