The Ascendancy of the Vampire

1. Abducted By Tentacled Freaks

Astor gasped, awaking with a jolt. All his senses snapped into place at once. On instinct he attempted to stand up, only to slam his head against a cold, smooth surface. He immediately stiffened, realizing he didn’t know where he was.

What’s going on?

As he searched his memories, he rubbed his head. His fingers combed through his short hair, which fell in sculpted silver curls, though the shorter layers underneath were a darker grey. Longer waves hung low on one side of his forehead, and he swept it over his long, pointed ears.

The last thing Astor remembered was walking down the dim, lantern-lit streets of Baldur’s Gate. He looked down, his red eyes glowing with darkvision. Upon seeing that he wore the same outfit he last remembered donning—casual strolling attire befitting a noble of the Upper City—he exhaled in relief. His fingers deftly smoothed the wrinkles on his dark blouse, feeling the intricate, familiar embroidery.

There was a flying ship, he thought as his memories surfaced. He remembered the commotion that the nautiloid had made as it cruised over the city, its giant tentacles weaving through the streets, teleporting people on contact. Screams and chaos had filled the night sky.

He guessed he was abducted. He had read about such ships and the mind flayers that piloted them. Memories suddenly flashed of a slimy mind flayer shoving a squirming tadpole through his eye. He shuddered deeply.

Through the translucent lid of the pod, he saw the room beyond, dimly lit by a violet glow. The walls were lined with pulsing flesh, and what looked to be metal beams jutted out randomly. There was no movement in the room—it was silent beyond the steady rhythm of the nautiloid’s pulse, like the ship itself needed to breathe.

Luckily for him, he didn’t seem to be injured. Unluckily, he had nothing on him but a handful of copper coins in his pockets. He quickly formulated a plan.

Bracing his back against the seat, he raised his legs, planting his fleet flat against the lid. Using all of his strength, with one sharp push, the lid snapped open with a loud crack, swinging upwards on its hinge.

Silently, Astor climbed out of the pod and looked around. There was a person on the ground near him, a corpse missing its head. Astor swallowed hard, thankful that this wasn’t him.

His eyes scanned the body and settled on the dagger clutched in its hand. Perfect, he thought. He pried the dagger free, swinging it around a few times to get a feel for its weight. Then he pulled the thigh strap from the corpse, taking it for himself, sliding the dagger into place on his leg.

He headed for the entrance, a mesh of membrane that retracted on approach. Interesting, he thought. And absolutely disgusting.

After combing through a maze of narrow, pulsing hallways, Astor finally arrived at the entrance to a large chamber. He was covered in fluids and guts, having encountered and disposed of numerous little brains on legs that called the ship home. He wiped the blade of his dagger on his trousers.

Peeking into the room, he saw there was an ongoing fight. A red dragon filled the space, its wing span almost reaching the ceiling, its prominent horns swept back in sharp, crown like curves. A ridge of jagged spines ran down its back all the way to the tip of its long, thrashing tail.

The dragon charged towards a group of imps, its jaw and claws shredding through its enemies with ease. Screeches and the scent of blood filled the air, and Astor instinctively ran his tongue over his fangs.

Past the skirmish, the room opened up to the world outside. The sky was a dim red, soot and burning debris flew in the air. Low mountain ranges framed the distance horizon, and the landscape was mostly barren, with the occasional river of lava. Several random fireball soared through the sky. The smell of brimstone and smoke floated in from the breeze.

His eyes widened as he processed this information. This looked like Avernus, the first layer of the Nine Hells. He was in a completely different plane. How was he going to find his way home? He couldn’t Plane Shift.

His spiraling thoughts were cut short as the red dragon finished off the imps, and then snapped its head in Astor’s direction, alert and curious. His eyes met the dragon’s and he felt a thick wave of bloodlust directed at him. Panic surged. What could he actually do against a dragon?

The monster charged across the room, baring a maw of sharp jagged teeth. Having nothing to lose, Astor poured enchantment magic into his voice, shouting a single, command word across the room. “Trip!”

The magic latched onto the creature, its eyes flashing briefly pink before its legs crossed and it charged face first into the ground. Its body came to a stop several paces away from Astor. Debris kicked up, and suddenly there was silence.

Then, the dragon stood up and swung his head back. “Ahahahaha!! I didn’t expect that,” it roared, cackling loudly, its form towering over Astor. “You got me good.”

Astor eyed the dragon’s suspiciously, his dagger in his grip. Dragons were intelligent creatures and could be reasoned with. So he chose the diplomatic path, straightening his back. “I’m…Astor. Who are you?”

“My name is Kalsarin!” the dragon boomed, its loud voice bouncing off the walls. A sudden red light surrounded the dragon and its form quickly shrunk. Soon, a tanned man with short, red hair stood confidently where the dragon was mere moments earlier. “But you can call me Kal.”

He regarded Kal’s humanoid form. He considered himself quite tall, but Kal was half a head taller than him.

Straight messy bangs fell across Kal’s face, almost covering his piercing yellow eyes, his pupils thin slits. He had a solid build, and his broad arms were accentuated by a rugged sleeveless shirt. His loose trousers were frayed at the hems, and the dark flip flops he wore were covered in dirt and blood.

Suddenly, Astor’s mind tilted as his vision blurred, a piercing pain shooting through his head. Visions flashed—pools of blood and gore, piles of charred bodies, a bloodlust so visceral it made him dizzy. A chorus of screams filled his ears, a million voices all at once.

When his sight returned to normal and the pain receded, he saw Kal was also shaking off whatever had just happened between them. Their eyes met and they shared an incredulous look.

“What was that?” Kal yelled, looking around. “Who did that?”

“It…was probably the mind flayer tadpole’s psychic abilities,” Astor guessed, pointing to his head. “It looks like they put one in you too.”

“Those tentacled freaks put something in me?” Kal yelled. “I’m going to burn this damned ship to the ground.”

“I saw your memories,” Astor said, eyeing Kal cautiously. “There is so much carnage in your past, my friend.”

“Hmm.” Kal crossed his arms and closed his eyes, tilting his head. “I saw Baldur’s Gate. I was stabbing someone in an alleyway. Those weren’t my memories, so they must be yours.”

Astor smirked sheepishly. “Ah, well, it’s nice to meet a… kindred spirit.” He gave a small bow.

“Hah!” Kal laughed loudly. “Likewise.”

“Still…I didn’t realize your type disguised yourselves like this,” Astor considered thoughtfully. “Where are you from?”

Kal shrugged. “I’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate, and other cities on the Sword Coast. I move around.”

“Really? You’ve lived in my city?” Astor gave an exaggerated look of surprise. “I thought dragons preferred to live in lairs with their treasure hoards. Don’t red dragons build homes in volcanos and tall mountains?”

“You sure know a lot about this.” Kal laughed again, and he patted Astor on his back a bit too hard, causing Astor to stumble forward. “What else do you know?”

“A little bit of everything,” Astor replied coolly, dusting off his shoulder where Kal touched him. “You should join me. We both need to find a way to get these tadpoles out of our head, before we turn into mind flayers.”

“We’re going to grow tentacles??” Kal yelled in disgust. “That is NOT happening. What do we do?”

“First, we need to get off this ship. Let’s get to the helm and see if we can land this thing,” Astor suggested.

Kal nodded gravely. “Lead the way.”

Astor and Kal stepped into a wide, circular chamber at the very front of the nautiloid. Various organic looking furniture were scattered around the room. On the far side, there stood a group of mind flayers, huddled intently over a console. The organic interface was full of buttons, levers and lights. Gently swaying tentacles dangled above the console, connected in various patterns.

One of the monsters detached some of the tentacles, forming a new connection between two of them. The ship groaned, and then it lurched and warped. The scenery outside abruptly changed as the nautiloid crossed planes.

Gone was the red, ash filled sky of the Avernus. The outside now was a more familiar sight, though still not one Astor saw normally—the bright blue of Toril’s daytime sky. Sunlight streamed in from the wide glass windows that lined the walls.

Astor gulped audibly, his panic rising. They were back in Toril, but the sun was out. He was knocked out for longer than he thought. This is bad, he can’t stand in the sun without burning to ash. How will he get back to Baldur’s Gate? Seeing the sunbeams drawing close to his foot, he took a step back.

“What’s wrong?” Kal asked curiously, watching Astor’s hesitation.

“Nothing,” Astor deflected, gritting his teeth. “Those mind flayers, we need to kill them so we can take over the controls.”

The monsters turned around in unison, noticing them at the entrance platform. They levitated as a group, approaching Astor and Kal, their mouth tentacles thrashing viciously.

“Ew…” Kal winced. “They’re so…writhing.”

Astor prepared to fight, keeping half his attention on the encroaching sun rays. As the ship made a wide turn in the sky, patches of sunlight moved around the space, and he had to ensure they didn’t fall where he stood.

Kal assumed an offensive stance, growling in anticipation. His form shimmered, his body growing quickly in an explosion of heat and flames. Standing tall in his true form, his massive wings unfurling, he darted towards the aberrations in a blur of red scales and horns. His jaw opened wide, shooting a projectile of molten fire.

Some of the mind flayers managed to dodge his attack, but the ones who were hit fell quickly. His blast cut through the side of the navigation console, melting the corner. A loud alarm started sounding overhead, and soon they heard explosions setting off in other parts of the ship. The entire nautiloid trembled and shook.

“KAL! WATCH YOUR FIRE!” Astor hissed. The dumb dragon was going to cause the ship to explode!

The remaining mind flayers screeched at Kal. One threw a spell toward the dragon, freezing him where he stood, his wings half open, his body trembling. Kal’s yellow eyes glowed pink, and he relaxed. Slowly, he turned on the spot toward Astor, his eyes dazed.

“What are you-“ Astor began to ask, but he was cut off as Kal charged towards him, forcing him to roll to dodge. He came to a stop way too close to a ray of sunlight, and he yelped, scrambling desperately underneath a nearby workbench for cover.

The mind flayer’s magic had enthralled Kal. Cursing under his breath, he peeked over the bench and identified the mind flayer concentrating on the domination spell. That was his target.

From the side, a torrent of flames flew towards Astor, and he rolled again to hide behind the next table. Then he stood up, enchantment magic infusing his voice. He glowered at the target mind flayer and yelled a suggestion: “Stop dominating the dragon.”

The mind flayer seized, the glow in its eyes fading. Kal snapped out of his stupor and shook his head, the crown of horns on his head scrapping the ceiling. The dragon realized he had been controlled, and he grew enraged at the group of mind flayers. His wings flapped aggressively, propelling him into a running tackle towards the aberrations, a blur or claws and teeth and fire. The monsters’ shrieks were short lived, and soon they were reduced to nothing but charred limbs and tentacles.

Astor surveyed the damage around them. Most of the furnishings were damaged or burning, including the console at the front.

Suddenly, numerous explosions went off around the room. The ship was detonating in flames, blowing holes into the walls of room. Sunlight streamed in, strong and bright, and Astor hurriedly crawled into the remaining shadow.

The ship veered sharply downward, the white clouds outside passing them quicker and quicker. Smoke filled the air as the fire spread.

“Astor! We need to get out of here,” Kal roared from across the room. He ran towards the largest hole in the wall, and spread his wings wide, ready to jump. “Get on!”

Astor came out of hiding and looked at Kal wide eyed. “I-I can’t.” He gestured toward the sky. “The sun. I’ll burn.”

“You can burn, or you can die when this ship crashes. Choose!” Kal growled impatiently. “Last chance!”

Astor didn’t give himself another moment to hesitate. He jumped up and sprinted towards Kal, jumping onto his back, sitting snugly between his wings. He wrapped his arms around Kal’s neck.

“Hold on tight,” Kal exclaimed. He beat his wings and jumped off the falling nautiloid. The cool breeze hit them both as Kal caught air in his wings, found his rhythm, and soared majestically through the sunny skies.

Astor held his breath, shutting his eyes tight as he prepared to be reduced to dust. He waited and waited for the familiar burning of the sun, and yet nothing happened. He opened one eye in confusion.

The bright blue sky stretched endlessly in front of them. The landscape of the wilderness under them, an infinite sky with white wispy clouds, and the bright sun above.

Sunlight fell on Astor’s body, warm and foreign in its intensity. He hadn’t been in the sun like this since he was first turned into a spawn, centuries ago. He looked down on his exposed forearms. They were a familiar pale ivory, but now shone brightly where the sun struck. His skin looked strange in it.

This can’t be possible. He was sure he was still a vampire. The blood hunger is still there, sharp and insistent in the backdrop of his mind. It must be the tadpole, he deduced.

His thoughts were cut short as Kal swerved sharply in his trajectory, flying in haphazard patterns through the air. He roared happily, enjoying the breeze and the heat of the sun on his wings and scales.

As the wind rushed through Astor’s hair, the same excitement tore through him. He had never flown like this before, never seen such sights of the world he existed in at this scale. He raised his voice and joined Kal in his roars, screaming into the wind, laughing in exhilaration.