In order to satisfy my endless need for new projects, I’m writing another fanfic. This time, it’s for the second LoK game, Soul Reaver (aka the second best game in the series). Whether it’s an RPG is even more debatable than Blood Omen, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, let’s enjoy the show.
Prologue: Execution
Kain is diefied. The clans tell tales of him. Few know the truth. He was mortal once, as were we all. However, his contempt for humanity is what drove him to create me and my brethren. I am Raziel, first-born of his lieutenants, Kain’s first-born son. I stood with Kain at the dawn of the empire. We have served him for a millenia.
After several hundred years, Kain had amased a great army of vampires, and Nosgoth fell quickly. The human kingdoms were wiped away, replaced by Kain’s own image. The humans were quickly domesticated, although a few went into hiding. The fools took it upon themselves to hunt us down, fighting a battle they could not hope to win. They were tolerated; they made the lives of the fledglings more challenging.
The humans think that it is a poison in our blood that makes us what we are. Fools! These bodies are merely vessels, the blood we drink is merely to sustain them. It is our souls that hold our gift. In order for a vampire to be created, its soul must be removed from the underworld and returned to its body. The underworld itself shapes the soul, giving it power beyond human recogning.
After the humans were defeated, our real work began: shaping Nosgoth to Kain’s will. The first task was a shrine at the site of the Pillars of Nosgoth, twisted and destroyed a millenia before our creation. The human slaves worked feverioushly, and soon the Sanctuary of the Clans was complete. As a reward, they became a feast for us. As we passed our gift to younger generations, however, we noticed a noticible flaw; the vampiric weakness to sunlight grew ever greater with each generation, and soon the fledgings would be destroyed upon contact with any form of sunlight. To combat this, Kain had an eternal furnace built in Nosgoth’s highlands, with endless smoke belching out the sky. Never before had the land known such a time of beauty.
Alas, we grew bored as the centuries passed. We allowed the lesser vampires their intrigues, as they provided entertainment to an otherwise uninspired court. As faction after faction fell, we bet on the outcome. We helped and foiled plots at our whim. We were the Council and Kain, our only master.
Over time, we became less human and more…divine. Every few centuries, Kain would enter a state of change, and emerge with a new gift. We would then follow in suit, from myself down the chain. Nothing seemed wrong with the process.
That fateful day, I entered the Sanctuary of the Clans behind schedule, after the meeting had begun. In the circle stood my five brothers: Turel, Dumah, Rahab, Zephon, and Melchiah. Each were given their own territory to control, as an appeasement for their service during the conquest of Nosgoth. Our clans rarely communed with each other; they stayed loyal soley to their masters. This was yet another area where we bested the humans. And at the end, resting on his throne at the base of the Balance Pillar, sat Kain himself. He eyed me angrily, but his eyes soon turned to curiosity, as did those of my brethren.
I kneeled before my lord, listening to the shocked gasps of my brothers with joy. I had the honor of surpassing my master; I had evolved before even Kain. I revealed my new gift, and unfurled a pair of bat-like wings on my back.
Kain recoiled in shock, then approached me. He circled behind, feeling my new wings. I did not expect what would happen next. I heard Kain shout, “Traitor!” and felt agony surge through my very being. I fell to the ground, and looked at my master. In his hands were the bloodied bones that once sat in my wings, and in his eyes were nothing but pure hatred.
For my transgression, there was only one outcome: my eternal damnation. I, Raziel, was to suffer the fate of traitors and weaklings- to burn forever in the Lake of the Dead. I was dragged, to the ledge overlooking the swirling abyss by Turel and Dumah, as my other brothers followed from a distance. Kain observed the vortex that awaited me, then turned his back to us all and started away. I looked at my brethren, hoping for sympathy or compassion. All I saw was excitment, exileration at the thought of something new. They had betrayed me, as well.
Kain stopped briefly, and uttered a single order. “Cast him in.”
Turel and Dumah were more than willing to obey. They saw what had happened when I had transgressed against my master; they did not wish to share the same fate. I fell over the side, screaming until I hit the water. White fire burned at every inch of my being. I fell into the abyss. Unspeakable pain, relentless agony, time ceased to exist. Only this torture, and a deepening hatred for the hypocrisy that had damned me to this hell.
An eternity passed, and my torment receded, bringing me back from the precepice of madness. As I felt death begin to take me, I recovered. I now stood at the bottom of the lake; indeed, it wasn’t bottomless as my brethren believed. I examined my body, unprepared for the shock. My skin had completely burned away, leaving only a skeleton and some muscle. The water had also altered my bones, leaving them a dark blue. I tried to speak, but no sound came. I felt my mouth, and learned that my lower jaw no longer existed. The only article of clothing that survived the fall was my clan banner, which I wrapped around my face like a cowl. The fall had destroyed me, and yet I lived.
“Raziel…Raziel.” I looked around anxiously, and found that I was now in a large antechamber. At the far end stood the most revolting creature to have exer existed. It resembled a giant squid, with hundreds of eyes and thousands of tentacles. It was the only possible source of the words. I stared at this new creature.
“Raziel, you are worthy.”
(to be continued)