Nephalim

Chapter 1: Cain

I laid upon my makeshift bed in my ransacked apartment. I had not the energy to clean after the day's events. Confident that the warding magic on my door would hold, I closed my eyes and allowed my self to drift off into a dream...

.       .      .

The blood moon rose over the horizon, giving a red tint to the bloodied field of battle. All around, friends and foes alike lay dying. I stood amongst them, broken wings folded neatly on my back. In my hand, I clutched an aptly named, and bloody, bastard sword.

The battle against the undead horde, and those whom thought it wise to fight along side them, was far from over. However, a moment of reprieve exists now, and now I take it.

"Cain," said a voice behind me. I turned and saw Kilan, Dwarven prince of the black hills. A stoic dwarf with a long black beard. "Don't 'cha know it's bad luck to be standin' around the dead like that?"

I smiled. "What's even more bad luck is sneaking up behind a Nephalim groomed for war."

"Well," he said, dismounting from his war ram. "They say to counter that luck, you drink ale until you forget your sister is blood." We laughed, and embraced each other.

"What brings you to the front, old friend."

"General 'Feratu want's a word with ye. Still don't trust that filthy blood sucker, but he does hate that curseded Necromancer more than I."

"Well then," I said, wiping my sword on a corpse before sheathing it. "Let's not keep the old man waiting."

.      .      .

I woke from my slumber to a loud bang on my broken door. I sat up and saw Markus, wearing the same coat from the night before, trying to figure out how to get around the ward. Behind him were Orsha and Borrin.

"Enter," I said waving my hand. The ward shimmered, allowing the trio access to my apartment.

"Fucking gods Cain!" exclaimed Markus. "What the fuck happened?"

"I'll explain soon," I said, standing up. I began to rummage through the debris in hopes that the blasted Golem didn't break my last bottle of booze. "Any word from Lo'rran and Miguel?"

Markus lit up a cigarette. "Miguel is in lock up. Cap didn't like his little field trip last night. As for the elf, well, who knows where that knife eared fuckwit went off to."

"If you are referring to me," said Lo'rran, apparating into the hallway behind him. "I can assure you that my ears are slightly more rounded than my other kin. Perks of being from the dark forest I suppose. As for your question, Mr Adamson, I was weylaid by the Elder Council of Magi."

"And what, pray tell, did those upmost and most powerful people say?" asked Markus sarcastically.

"They demanded time to meditate and collaborate an appropriate response."

"So next to fuck all, as usual."

"Enough!" I barked, feeling fire rise up in my voice. "We have enough to worry about without you demanding a dick measuring contest, Markus." Markus backed off, rising his hands slightly before placing them in his coat pocket. "And Lo'rran, why did you rat us out to the council?"

"Well, Mr Adamson, it is imperative that I keep the council informed. This clearly has to do with something far greater than you and this motley crew, my self included, can deal with in our current capacity." He then gestured to the door, "Case and point, as the mortal races say."

"That's... actually quite rational." For fucks's sake, can't believe I agreed with an elf.

"You're surprised?"

I ignored the question. "Right, well, that settles that then."

"Whoa," said Markus, "did I just hear the great Cain agree with an elf?" He rubbed Borrin with his elbow, "So much for Cain, the scourge of the elves."

Lo'rran looked towards Markus then back at me. "Scourge of the elves?"

"Another time," I said bitterly. "Right now there are two things we need. One, booze, and two, a plan."

. . .

After we got booze, we spent the next couple hours coming up with a plan. Orsha, Borrin, and Markus all had to go to their normal jobs, and Lo'rran, he went back to question Miguel some more. As for me, I downed the last bit of booze and drifted off to sleep.

. . .

Flags, and unsecured tent flaps, rustled wildly in the wind as me and my dwarves companion made our way into camp. Though it looked small, thanks to some magic, this camp housed more then 200,000 troops from all races, and creeds. In the center of the camp, was a large command tent, were the officers, myself included, would talk strategy with our general, Nosferatu.

As we stood in the doorway of the command tent, Kilan clasped a fist to his chest and bowed low. I did the same. "Enter, and close the flap," said the ancient vampire.

I approached the old man, wings folded and a smile on my face. "I don't know, you could use a bit of sun."

Nosferatu looked up from the war maps and met my gaze. Suddenly, he broke out into laughter and hugged me. "It's good to see you boy, though dark these days might be. Come, come, I am sure you are acquainted with Ju'tyr Stonemouth, head of the Torntooth clan," he said gesturing towards a muscular grey haired orc. "And Ana'tuu, head of the wood land elves, and Alexandar, head of the -

"And that is Kilan, tallest dwarf to ever have lived," I said sarcastically, cutting him off. "I am well acquainted with my blood brothers." He chuckled. "Have you been drinking through out the day again old man?"

"Perhaps," he said mischievously. "But if I did, it was to celebrate." The other officers nodded in agreement.

"Celebrate?" said Kilan angrily, tossing his bloodied helmet onto the table. "This be the worst day of battle, and here you are, celebrating." He spat on the ground. "Should I go tell the men to celebrate the death of over half our forces? Shall we sing songs of victory as we burn their corpses tonight, just so that blasted necromancer defile their bodies and use them against us?!"

Nosferatu stroked his chin. "You know," he said, "we should tell the men the news as well, so that they too can celebrate."

Kilan started forward, I placed a hand on his chest to hold him back. "Now Kilan, before we disembowel this, clearly deranged vampire, why not wait for him to tell us the news?"

"We captured him!" said Nosferatu.

. . .

I awoke sometime before sunset. After taking a while to find my gear, and checking that I have silver bullets, I grabbed my coat and walked out the door.