“Stop! There are no weaknesses, the circle is complete. Be alert, fool! The vampire is here tonight, I feel it! Stop, or I’ll rend you!”
Milarra held aloft and unfurled a scroll, written in liquid gold mixed with blood. The lettering glowed a faint green. The erinyes mark was scrawled at the bottom. Tiyru kept smashing the walls of her arcane prison, looking for a weak point. She beat her black wings to no avail, hoping to scatter the powder that made up the summoning circle. Milarra gently dragged her nails down the back of the scroll. A wracking, psychic pain doubled the devil over. She fell to her knees and slammed her mace on the floor in pain and frustration.
“Silence! I’m telling you he’s here. He’s come for my blood!” Milarra raked the scroll again. Tiyru rolled over on her back, screaming in pain. She stared through the arcane bubble that held her prisoner and focused on the chandelier. Something moved. Was it a shadow? The pain subsided and she narrowed her eyes, scanning the ceiling. Nothing.
Tiyru got up. She watched the mage check her holy symbol, reposition it neatly around her neck… once, twice, three times. Milarra checked the position of the stakes she had lined up on the alchemy table. Each of the stakes where round, of equal length, and arranged in neat parallels. The entire summoning room was arranged in geometric perfection, clean and orderly. Event the floorboards she stood on were buffed to shining perfection. This is going to be fun, the she-devil smiled to herself.
“Are you ready, erinyes? I will free you and you’ll abide by our contract. Our deal is still intact. You will search my home and kill according to our contract. Once you’re done, I will dismiss you back to your smoking hole.”
“Yes, our deal in intact but no, I’m not ready. Just a moment.” The erinyes set her mace on the floor by her feet. She adjusted the cinches on her belt and drew her longsword. Focused intently on the mage, Tiryu smoothed out a tangled kink in the chainmail on her sword arm and watched. There was a moment of obsessive approval from the mage, she lowered the scroll.
With a quick, fluid pull the erinyes yanked a cinch free from her belt. A section of her chainmail shirt dropped to the floor, revealing the devil’s milky white skin and a distended belly. The bulge expanded grotesquely. Tiyru drew her longsword across her belly in a quick slice. A smoking, hideous mixture of blood, tar, and infernal amniotic fluid erupted from the she-devil and spattered to the floor. There was a faint squeal and a wet plop as something fell from Tiyru’s gaping belly and hit the floor.
“Ha! Mage-bitch, your floors are dirty!” the erinyes screamed. The mage looked on with shocked horror and disgust. With a flick of the wrist, the wavy longsword sheared through the scaled umbilicus. Tiyru edged a toe under the squealing mass of flesh on the floor and skidded the infernal infant across the floor. Leaving a smoking trail of blood and slime, the devil-baby slid across the floor and bounced off a leg of the alchemy table. It’s back was covered in the binding powders of the circle: silver dust, ash, and salt. The tiny half she-devil growled in annoyance.
The glowing hemisphere of arcane magic shimmered and cracked. The circle had been broken; Tiyru was free of her prison. The erinyes drew an enchanted dagger and hurled it at the agape mage. Milarra reflexively threw her hands up and stepped back, dropping the scroll. The dagger bounced off a shield of force the mage had conjured to protect her. Tiyru’s dagger had been prepared to store a powerful dispelling enchantment. The mortal mage felt the impact of the dagger dissolve several of her protecting spells and defenses. She took another step back and began the incantations of a spell. Tiyru had picked up her mace and was bracing her wings for a leap that would cover the distance to the hated mage in one swoop.
Stepping back, Milarra slipped on one the wooden stakes she had prepared for her vampiric stalker. Her foot flied out from under her and she landed on her back. She looked over at the growling devilish infant that had bumped into the alchemy table. It was a girl… a girl-thing… a girl tiefling. With flaming red hair, tiny vestigial horns, and fiercely green eyes, the tiny half-devil smiled and cooed as if it were amused by the mortal’s predicament. Another stake rolled off the table and bounced off Milarra’s forehead. The mage winced and blinked, her eyes watering enough to cloud the twisted, hideous, descending face of the erinyes, Tiyru. Tiyru fell on the mage with both her mace and longsword. It was over much quicker than the vengeful erinyes wanted, but… she had to get back to class.
She severed the tiny mortal mage’s head and collected the section of chainmail left in the binding circle. The devil stopped and looked over at the tiefling, her daughter. She had the Illrigger’s red hair. The mage Milarra’s blood was starting to pool around the tiny thing. Tiyru sighed, walked over and set the infant on the alchemy table. Taking one last look at the headless body and the tiny infant, she began the incantations to return to Dis. After a few syllables she thought better of it… drew her mace and set to pulverizing the mage Milarra’s cooling corpse. After a few minutes of screeching and infernal curses that would make a lamia’s ears bleed, all that remained was a mushy pile of pulped organs and jutting ribs. Refreshed, the erinyes completed her incantation and disappeared in a cloud of smoke back to the city of Dis….
Minutes later, a dark form moved across the ceiling. It floated silently down and on its hands and knees over what was left of Milarra. After a few minutes of quiet lapping the form stood up and moved to the alchemy table, where the tiefling sprawled helplessly. A pair of cool hands picked up the tiefling babe and held it aloft. Red eyes hungrily examined the child. A tiefling babe, the vampire thought with greedy anticipation. The little half-devil stared directly into the blood smeared face of Lord Orbakh, vampire, Lord of the Night Masks and clone of the megalomaniacal arch-mage, Manshoon.
He brought the oddly calm infant to his mouth and his fangs gleamed in the dimly lit summoning chamber. His mouth had nearly closed on the baby’s arm when something struck him lightly on the shoulder and fell to the floor. A candle from the chandelier. He stopped and scanned the whole room. He searched for enchantments that he hadn’t already discovered. His eyes penetrated the darkness. The room felt warmer… his hair was on fire.
Shouting in alarm, he dropped the tiefling to the floor. Orbakh swept his cloak up over his head and stifled the flames. He stopped and listened… only the breathing of the tiefling babe and… what else? The vampire lord couldn’t remember the last time he felt genuine alarm. He looked down at the infant and picked her up again, watching her intently.
“Your mother left you here with me. She could have worked for me, pity. She had lovely skin, the color of the moon. I could perhaps put you to use. Less than an hour old and you’ve had your first kill. Almost two. Poor Milarra… such bad luck to slip on that stake.”
He waited, almost as if he expected an answer from the green-eyed half-devil infant. She giggled.
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