Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse

I eventually settled upon two plans; one for the immediate term, the other ranging far into the future. My most pressing problem was a need to replace the Trogs I'd forged into war beasts, and to fill out the ranks of my Thralls. I had reduced my Lieutenants to a group of five perfectly formed women, each of which I considered loyal beyond reproach. I needed Thralls to use as commanders in the field below my Aerie, guiding groups of my war beasts to increase their efficiency.

I also had some renovations I needed to carry out on Furystack, and stocks of cartilage beasts were low. The Trog situation was easily resolved; though not as intelligent as true humans, they were cunning and had seen my rise to power, along with the destruction of no less than four Wamphyri that had accompanied it. One of their grunting chieftains came to visit me, with a gift of over a hundred of his debased kind. Most were too old to be of use for breeding, or too young to be bred or war-forged. Still, I was nothing if not patient, and could afford to wait until they matured. Thanking him for his consideration, I had my Lieutenants lift the grovelling, simpering fool from my floor. I ordered a banquet be set whilst I negotiated for more of the flesh I needed. Our deal concluded, I dismissed him and went to inspect my new stock.

They were, as I had surmised from the quick glance that I had spared them earlier, pathetic. I split them into three groups; the elderly, the too-young, and the sexually mature. They aged I sent to the breeding pits to be warped into a form more useful to me. The immature numbered less than ten; instead of waiting for them to attain maturity, I dispatched them to the holding chambers, where I could work their young flesh into the cartilage I needed, taking advantage of their metabolism to forge the great pylons and redoubts I planned to add to the top of my Aerie.

The few who were left of a breeding age I infected with my Vampiric flesh, forcing them to drink a spiced wine laced with my blood. Mesmerising the frightened creatures, I led them to the lower reaches of the Aerie and set them to breeding with one another, the first stock of generations I would raise to fuel my Aerie's needs or trade with other Lords.

The problem of human flesh, however, remained. I cast the auguries, biding my time until the off-axis tilt of my world deepened the Sunside into lengthier nights. Under the cover of darkness and swarming bats, I set out with a great squadron of flying beasts and my Lieutenants. My tactic was risky, for it left my Aerie exposed; if the other Lords discovered my absence, they might attack, taking advantage of my war beasts' lack of control to besiege my home. On the other hand, if I did not accompany the raid, I would not be able to guide my underlings or react to unforseen events, and in the interests of taking only the best Szgany I could find, I deemed that it would be best to accompany them instead.

As it turned out, I managed to steal a march on my competitors, all of whom were waiting for the nights to lengthen slightly more, giving them more time to raid the sun-lit lands across the Barrier Range. Most Lords were occupied with their own preparations, and my former kind were still gambling that Wamphyri assaults were still some time away, still daring to camp nearer to the mountains than they otherwise might have.

From aloft, I spied a great prize- two or more Clans had come together to share in the wealth of water and food in a verdant gully, their camp-fires and rising song an irresistible beacon for my raiding force. Mindful to keep out of the rising moon's silhouette, I ordered my flying beasts down, grounding them at one end of the hollow. I had left two Lieutenants at my Aerie, bringing three others and a handful of Thralls on the backs of fifteen flying beasts; the remaining six had carried some of my smallest war beasts, making up for what they lacked in size with ferocity and lethality. I tasked them to guard the flying beasts, vulnerable on the ground, and used that to anchor one end of the gully. The rest of my force would circle around to the opposite end, harrying the human herd towards the fliers and war beasts, who would capture them as they fled.

For a wonder, the plan worked. We fell upon them completely unawares, killing their pickets as we crept up upon the main camp. I briefly considered the many twists and turns of the futures lying before me, settling on one that held great risks and rewards both. Sending a mental pulse to my distant force, I had them fan out into a great circle and remain aloft, whilst my feral war-beasts raced to join me. Having corralled the Szgany, I signalled the attack. We fell to them, slaughtering their few remaining sentries before they could raise the alarm. By the time the humans realised what was happened, they were beset from without by my patrolling Thralls and Lieutenants, and from within by my slavering, baying war beasts.

I stepped forward, bellowing at the top of my amplified lungs. I told the frightened herd that I would take my fill of their members, and then depart. Should they try to fight, I would unleash my force, devastating them and then taking whom I wished. I reminded them that, if they complied, some amongst them would live. If they resisted, all those who fought would killed, and those I left behind infected with my Vampirism. The threat mollified them; they meekly obeyed.

I ordered them to separate into groups; children, men, women, and the elderly. My Lieutenants worked amongst the women, selecting the most fertile and most comely from among their number. The old were of no use to me, so they were ignored for selection, useful only for the menace the war beasts surrounding them projected, threatening to fall upon the valued Elders, a most effective group of hostages. My Thralls tested the males for strength, determining their suitability for Thraldom or breeding. I moved alone amongst the children, many of whom bawled in terror, unable to control their bowels or bladders. I had hoped to find some with useful gifts amongst them, talents I could control and use in the never-ending war that raged amongst the Wamphyri. Irritatingly, the accursed, mewling horde had nothing of use. Absent-minded, I picked up one particularly shrill member of the packed mass, snapped its neck, tore its chest open and feasted upon its heart. Gratifyingly, the herd fell silent at that, each fearing that they too would meet such a fate.