The vampire rubbed his narrow, clean-shaven chin. Though Malkom and Kallen both were fluent in the language, they refused to speak anything other than their native Demonish - even as the use of that tongue was now punishable by death.
"Ah, my two new prisoners," he said in Anglish. When the vampires had con"uered Oblivion and turned it into a colony, they'd dispatched the Viceroy, their most malicious leader, to act as ruler of the plane. His eyes were wholly red, his visage twisted by madness. Clad in costly silk robes, the male was pallid, his skin untouched by Oblivion's blistering sun. Without warning, a vampire traced into the room, teleporting directly onto the throne. As he was neither noble nor good like Kallen, his retribution would be far more vicious than the prince could ever envision. Malkom had already planned his own revenge. The Trothans' beloved prince had been captured.īlinded by his hatred for Malkom - a slave turned commander - Ronath had unwittingly doomed Kallen and all the Trothans. But without Malkom's unwavering defense, Kallen's fortress had fallen just a week later. 'Twas Ronath who'd turned Malkom over to the vampires. "The traitor will not see another night." He'd once been Kallen's favored commander. Ronath the Armorer was a seasoned warrior, the strongest demon after Malkom. "Ronath will pay for this once I get free," Kallen grated. The guards shoved Kallen and Malkom to their knees before the grave. Without fail, he figured his way out of seemingly impossible predicaments. Kallen muttered, "Can you see a way out of this?" those whispers of the Scarba - the abominations. In the back, a black-robed sorcerer worked at a vial-cluttered table. More guards lined the walls, with swords at the ready. Ahead, a pair of winded demon slaves stood beside a freshly dug grave. Rare crystal and glass adorned the room.Īt once, Malkom began analyzing every inch of the area for an escape. Though the floor was of packed earth, the walls were hung with rich silks and tapestries. But his bonds were mystical Malkom was unable to teleport or break free.Īt the base of the stairs lay a subterranean chamber with an ornate throne on a dais. "The rumors are likely untrue," he lied, putting up a renewed resistance as the dozen guards forced them down a flight of stone steps. Malkom Slaine gazed over at his best friend, Prince Kallen the Just, wishing he had a better answer for him, anything to ease the apprehension in Kallen's eyes.Īs the vampire guards shoved them along, deeper into their stronghold, Malkom suspected death might be welcome before the night was out.
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