Hmmm, I skipped Shadow Wolf last week because I was releasing Bloodlust: The Blades of Khazak Khrim, my apologies to anyone who was looking for it. Late but in earnest, I suppose.
I felt my axe connect, the shock of the blow running up my hand as it bit into a huge, shadowed form. Then, before I could follow up, one of the others jumped on my from behind.
I kept my feet, staggering a little under the sudden weight. I did not elect to throw my newest assailant to the ground, but rather turned so that he, or she, I could not tell, acted as armour of a kind while the third and fourth vampires came at me. A swift-moving form, screamed out of the shadow, motes of dust framing a gaunt face with a mouth like a needle shark as he passed under the hole in the deck. I rode the impact as number three hit me from behind, just then, shacking the bloodsucker on my back off. Needle mouth leapt at me, swift and strong, but not skilled enough. I read his movements, sidestepped, tripping him. As he slammed into the deck, I brought my axe down on the back of his neck. Blood, far more than one would expect, shot out from the wound.
I have always wondered how Vampires can store more blood in their systems than an equivalent being. Once, we killed an old one in the depths of Blackwomb and the room was quickly awash in blood.
As I finished that thought, the big one hit me. This time I was lifted off my feet and slammed into a pile of crates, barrels, and bones. The impact drove the breath from my lungs, but my armour prevented any damage from splintering wood. In the dark, the ogre-vampires teeth glittered as he loomed over me, a heavy barrel raised above his head.
The groan of tortured wood presaged Bull cutting another hole in the deck above. The Ogre Vampire, huge and grotesquely muscled in the sudden light, blinked, giving me time, I rolled to the side as he slammed the barrel down showering me in wood and the foul contents of the barrel — which smelled like tripe. His fist slammed into me as I tried to stand and I caught movement from the corner of my eye as one of the the others swung at me. I raised my gauntlet, catching the blow on my bracer, hard, as I turned my shoulder to blunt the impact of the Ogre’s kick. The strength of the attack lifted me to my feet, and I lashed out with the backspike of my pick, spearing one of the smaller bloodsuckers and heaving him into the ogre. There was a step from behind me just then and I ducked, twisting around. A bloodsucker, swift as a striking serpent, clawed at my throat.
“Not bloody likely,” I said, grinning as his nails snapped against the tempered metal of my gorget. Before he could recover I nailed his foot to the deck with my pick and then pulled his other leg out from under him, throwing myself forward to bury my axe in his face as he hit the planks.
“ENOUGH!” roared a voice from behind me, as I gained my feet.
Turning, I saw the Ogre-vampire, with Bull struggling in his grip.