Fifty One
Micah and Vlad, Periphery of the Dead Lands
The horizon was ashen, gray and lifeless as Micah & his vampire guide arrived in The Deadlands.
Lifeless barren badlands devoid of any life or features, it was just a gray dustbowl and a handful of frontier trading posts.
Supposedly, a great Primordial of death had cursed the land to wither into its current sorry state, others blame The Demonic Legion, or even a wrathful Maker.
Whatever the cause, the dead reality was the same.
Vlad led his master into the gray barrens, his destination an abandoned mining town, a relic of his former life with a dark secret lurking below in the depths.
Micah could feel a sinister presence permeating the gray ashes, something truly awful happened here.
"We need to pass through Ferus Town on our way, but let's keep ourselves inconspicuous," Vlad explained, no longer needing to hide from the sun in the Deadlands.
The sun itself seemed to hide in a gloomy haze above.
Vlad drew back his black shroud, taking a deep breath. His eyes looked sunken; his skin more pallid than usual. He needed to feed.
Don't you even think about it. Micah projected his words into the vampire's mind in a threatening tone.
"But Master!" Vlad protested.
Micah frowned. "I'll consider it. Now let's get moving," he ordered.
It would be easy to get lost in such a featureless barren, but Vlad knew the place intimately from his mortal life centuries ago.
Vlad had been careful to mentally hide the location of their destination lest he would become expendable.
Later...
After trudging through the vast gray barrens for what seemed like a lifetime, the two dusty travelers reached the outskirts of Ferus Town.
A shabby excuse for a town, it was an old frontier trading post, a few bare streets, a rusted-out water tower and old wooden buildings.
A relic of a more lucrative past when a gold rush in the north brought wealth. Back in the days when The Deadlands was instead a lush valley teeming with resources, the trade roads were bustling, traders eager to peddle their wares.
Ferus was an ancient town, experiencing periods of prosperity and recession. The people too, were hardy, clinging to their home despite its slow death.
Now just a shriveled husk of a settlement.
Not much was going on when Micah and Vlad arrived in the dusty town.
An old woman batted the dust out of a rug on her porch, a seemingly futile gesture in The Deadlands. Another sleepy drunk was slumped over the hitching post. Even the horses tied up here looked pale and sickly.
A few poor children were playing in the dirt, tossing pebbles.
Micah scoffed at their miserable existence. They are too stubborn to move on, basically lingering spirits.
There was very little to see in this hollow town. "Why did you bring me here?" Micah inquired to his shrouded guide.
"We need a few supplies, there is great darkness ahead," Vlad replied cryptically as he eyed Souldrinker, coveting it.
An old saloon beside some boarded up stores and a once-vibrant now extinct marketplace was all there was to see. Tumble weed balls rustled past abandoned stands.
The few citizens they passed were shrouded in rags to fend off the dust storms.
Vlad was licking his lips as a young tradesman staggered past with a large rucksack on his back. With his black shroud over his face the locals were spared the horror of his corpulent complexion.
Micah glared at the vampire.
"Let's get what we need and leave," Micah demanded.
Their stop was the bare-bones excuse for a general store.
"What'll it be, boys?" the peculiarly creepy old owner asked. His raisin complexion matched this decrepit store.
"Two lanterns with oil," Vlad hid his face while he spoke.
The owner complied and fished through his old mining gear for the lanterns.
"Hate to ruin your plans, boys but there is nothing to mine around."
'Boys' that word stung Micah just like it did every time Lady Crow chastised him with it. He didn't like this man.
The owner eyed Souldrinker sheafed over Micah's shoulder.
Fixated on it, and knowing the value of such a weapon could turn his life around. "That's a nice sword, I'll trade that for the gear you want, that or Four gold," the shopkeeper smirked, clearly not reading the room.
Micah exchanged looks with Vlad. An outrageously extortive price for two simple lanterns.
"You won't find them anywhere else," the snarky shopkeeper crossed his hands, willing to scam anyone he met.
"Two silver, final offer," Micah leaned on the table fishing what little coin he had out of his pocket.
"Four gold or that sword," the seller replied stubbornly.
Kill...
The wretch...
"Counter offer..." Micah nodded to his companion.
Vlad leaned forward; his fangs drawn. "Thank you, master."
"Don't leave a mess," Micah added as he walked over to the shop doors to close them.
Micah ensured there were no witnesses to impede their progress, they still had further to travel.
He helped himself to the lanterns and turned away as he saw the seller backing into the shelves behind him.
The man was getting ready to cry out for help. Micah had to act fast.
Micah clicked his fingers magically sealing the shopkeepers mouth shut.
Weeks of hunger had made Vlad a crazed animal as he ripped his prey apart. Silenced by Micah, the shopkeeper could do little to stop the vampire consume him completely.
Micah held out Souldrinker.
good...
feed....
it urged him.
Micah felt the sword tug towards the fallen shopkeeper. The hungry presence within wanted to feed.
Micah was entranced. Almost as if puppeted by an external force.
Hanging onto his memories of his sister Lydia as an emotional anchor, he snapped himself out of the trance.
Soon... Souldrinker whispered ominously.
Micah tapped on the door. "Are you done yet, vampire?"
Vlad was slurping away greedily, savoring every drop of the poor victim's blood. He ripped and tore, sparing no drop of blood, ravenous like a starved wolf.
By the time Vlad's bloodthirst was sated, the victim lay dead and deathly white like a dried fruit.
Finally, he stood up, his face saturated with crimson. His face looking fuller and eyes lively, he almost looked human, albeit a corpulent one. "I'm ready master."
Micah kicked open the door into the dusty street below, marching out, his black cloak flapping behind him. "Show me the way, servant."
Vlad bowed, "Yes master,"