Vorador slowly exited his chamber, breaking the spell that had kept his doors sealed while he rested and regained his strength from the battle.    As the doors of his chamber closed behind him a look of anger and curiosity crossed his face, “Where are the demons I summoned to guard my chamber!” he proclaimed load enough for all in his great mansion to hear.  Yet when he said this no one responded.  In fact he heard nothing at all.

        At this he immediately grew impatient.  Although he guessed that many if not all of his war chiefs would probably still be resting, where were the protectors of his sanctuary.  Vorador walked out of the elegant great hall that lead to his resting chamber and headed to the door of his chief lieutenant Lesitabah.  As he traveled down the dimly-lit corridor walking on a golden trimmed rug that ran the entire length of the hall, his mind raced wondering why there was such a dead silence.  He arrived at the door of Lesitabah’s room, and remained there glaring at the door that was left half open.  He refused to even  look inside already knowing his lieutenant was missing, for no vampire would leave the door of their own rest place open and lacking protection.  Vorador did not bother to continue down the hall and check the rooms of his other warriors, instead he crossed to a great stairway that wound down to the lower floor.  He began his decent on a stairway that easily had room for more than one to use at once but Vorador occupied the entire stairway, just as he always did.  He reached the lower level of his mansion and entered his pantry.  Normally a room full of death and blood, Vorador’s pantry was now empty.  No human remains or their bodies were left, only the stain of blood from where they once were.  At this site Vorador immediately knew his mansion had been intruded upon by humans.  But who had the courage and motive to enter what he considered the most dangerous place for any human.  He could now see his mansion was almost completely devoid of any form of life.

        The demons, the lesser vampires, the specters, the wraiths, and all else that usually wandered the lower levels of his mansion were gone.  Now traveling at a more rapid pace, Vorador exited through room after room until he arrived at the entrance of his sanctuary.  Gripping the skull handle, he forced open the immense door and stepped outside.  It was morning, of what day he had no idea.  The fledgling vampires would not last long in the burning rays of the sun if any still remained alive from the assault that had obviously occurred recently on the mansion.  He must find at least one survivor who could describe to him the events that had taken place.  Pulling open the skull handled door, Vorador again entered his rest place but with intentions to search its entirety for survivors.

        After scouring the entire lower level, Vorador once again found himself traveling the stairway.  He reached the top but turned left heading away from his lieutenant’s and his own room.  Walking past the doors of his other vampire warriors, he could see they had also been opened and violated.  But one room towards the end of the hall remained locked.  His trophy room, the room that held the information, artifacts, and relics Vorador had gained over his great life-span.  He approached the door and silently lifted the guard spell placed upon it.  As he entered he noticed several figures cowering in the corner, while others were sprawled across the floor.  But his gaze rested on the figures standing proud directly in the center of his glorious room.  He recognized these four.  Vampires all of them, they were members of his war council, which was composed of some of the strongest vampires across Nosgoth.  Although none came close to rivaling his own power, they still were powerful warriors.  Vorador at once recognized his chief lieutenant, dressed in full armor, Lesitabah stood with severe wounds to his shoulder and hip.  The three that stood with him also showed signs of injury and battle.  Vorador looked at his lieutenant saying, “Lesitabah, what has happened here…why has my sanctuary been intruded upon and why was I not raised from my sleep?”.

        As he kneeled, to show respect for Vorador, Lesitabah responded, “Great Vorador, we have been attacked by the Sarafan while we recovered from our last battle.”
        Shocked Vorador replied, “The Sarafan? But I defeated Malek, who would lead them?”
        Rising from his knees Lesitabah now looked directly at Vorador, “It was his lieutenants, Raziel, Turel, Dumah, Rahab, Zephon, and Melchiah who lead the attack.  They attacked during the day, while even our guardians rested.  I was awakened by a servant who alerted me to the presence of the Sarafan warriors, who were at that moment entering and attacking our forces.  I quickly raised our forces to counter their attack.  I did not wish to disturb you unless the situation became out of our control.  We met their forces at the main hall.  Their numbers were overwhelming but still we battled and succeeded in killing a great deal of their numbers.  I even managed to slay Melchiah, one of Malek’s lieutenants.  He was very skilled and dealt to me a great deal of damage.  Our forces began to quickly diminish and theirs only seemed to become stronger.  I sent Greseph, another of our stronger warriors to awaken you.  But before he could reach your door the Sarafan warrior they call Dumah slew him.  Our forces were trapped, so I had no choice but to pull them back into the only room remaining with a protection spell strong enough to hold off the holy.  I knew they would be unable to enter your resting place, so I remained here awaiting your arrival.  We are all weak, tired, and in need of blood.”

        Vorador now looked across the room and could see that only about a dozen warriors remained and most were weak fledglings, “You should have awoken me Lesitabah, your incompetence has caused us a great loss.  But no matter.  Who of our greatest warriors still remain?”
        Motioning to his left Lesitabah spoke, “Only four of us remain.  Myself, Drefron, Revinath, and Hafiseph.  The rest were slaughtered, carried away on Sarafan staves.”
        “These Sarafan have caused us too much grief!  Rest now, heal your wounds, for later tonight we will hunt down those who aim to destroy us.”  Vorador swiftly turned out of the room overwhelmed with anger, and headed for his chamber.
        Turning to those remaining in the large chamber, Lesitabah spoke out, “Go to where you can find rest, we must prepare for battle to avenge those we lost.”
        They exited, each of the war chiefs going to their chambers and the lesser vampires going to down to the lower level to resume their rest.

        Vorador called together what remained of his war council.  Lesitabah, Drefron, Revinath, and Hafiseph all gathered back in Vorador’s trophy room.  They seated themselves around a large square table.  Vorador and Lesitabah sat at the heads of the table, while the other three warriors centered around the middle.  Vorador rose, and pointing to a map of Nosgoth he said, “Here is where we will strike (motioning towards Malek’s stronghold).  When night falls a few hours from now we shall descend out of the forest and destroy those who seek to lead the Sarafan.  They shall all join their master in the abyss soon enough.”
        Revinath stood to meet Vorador’s gaze, “Lord, what of our sanctuary? Who shall protect it while we are gone?”
        “The fledglings and guardians who survived the Sarafan’s attack shall remain here.  Most have not mastered the ability to fly as a bat, and without that they will only slow us down.”  Vorador responded.  “Now go arm yourselves for battle, we shall depart soon.”

        All exited the room except Vorador, who began walking towards a corner of the room.  As he approached the side wall his form began to change.  His arms, legs and then chest turned to mist, and soon none of his features were recognizable.  The mist he had just become passed through the wall, and into a room visited only by himself.  As he passed through the wall his vampire form began to take shape once again, and then no trace of mist could be found.  
The room was not large but elegant in appearance.  A single but masterful chair sat towards the center of the room.  Surrounding it were the treasures of countless battles he had won.  Relics and books twice as sacred as those found in the previous room littered the walls.  Hanging safely were Vorador’s vast amount of weapons, patiently awaiting his grasp.  He took hold of a sword resembling a soul reaver.  Vorador preferred to have the use of magic at his disposal, and therefor had no use for a sword such as the true soul reaver.  To his left were artifacts and trinkets representing each guardian of the circle of nine he had slain.  The pillar of Conflict, Nature, Energy, and States could all be found there in that room.  But to Vorador those most important were missing.  Although he had no real desire to destroy the weak and feeble guardian of the pillar of balance (therefor plunging the world into uncontrollable chaos), he did wish to destroy the most powerful members of the Circle…Moebius and Mortanius, the guardians of the pillar of Time and Death.  Although disappointed, Vorador planned to one day destroy the entire Circle, including those who had evaded his wrath.
        But for now he was focused on the task at hand, locating and destroying those who still pledged allegiance to Malek and his “holy war”.  He passed back through the wall, and exited the “trophy room”, ready to commence with the attack.

        Vorador, Lesitabah, Revinath, Drefron, and Hafiseph gathered just outside the great mansion’s door.  It was dusk, and the sun was beginning to set.  At once all five warriors turned to bats, and flew off into the night, headed for the Sarafan’s stronghold.
        Their bat forms flew swiftly across Nosgoth.  Passing over towns and monuments, they flew with amazing speed, as if energized in anticipation of the battle to come.  Soon the keep was in sight and each bat began its decent into the cold mountainous region.  One by one the bats landed at the entrance of the towering stronghold and once again took on the form of vampires.  Hidden by the night, Vorador and the others entered the Sarafan’s keep, and began their search for Malek’s followers.

        They found themselves in a large hall, which seemed filled with warmth, luxury, and a false sense of security that only ignorant humans could posses.  With having defeated several of the Circle members here Vorador possessed a slight knowledge of these corridors.  As they traveled further down the hall a Sarafan warrior began exiting his room and saw the five fearsome vampires.  He immediately drew his weapon, a light sword that was used by the Sarafan only if their staffs were lost in battle, or in his case was left behind in his room.  He ran at Vorador screaming a horrifying war cry that was used for intimidation and to alert others of the vampires’ presence.  This weak attempt was quickly silenced as Vorador cut off the warrior’s head with one swift swipe of his sword.  Vorador looked at those who were with him and said, “Conserve your magic as much as possible for you will need it, do not waste it on prey such as this.”  The others simply nodded as they continued down the hall.

        They eventually arrived at the doors of a large circular room at the end of the hall that contained a long square table in its center.  They could see inside sitting at the table were eight Sarafan warriors and Zephon, one of Malek’s lieutenants.  Drefron smirked as his hand went to his lower chest and he remembered the blow and injury this “holy priest” had inflicted upon him.  “Vorador, let me have the privilege of destroying this lieutenant, he and I have not finished our fight.”
        “Very well Drefron, but do remember his stature in the Sarafan ranks.  Although lower ranking he is a lieutenant non the less, I can not lose anymore warriors to these priests.”
        Aware and obviously pleased Drefron responded, “Yes of course Vorador.”

        With that decided they threw open the door and entered with weapons drawn.  The Sarafan led by Zephon quickly reacted drawing their staves in defense.  Revinath raised his sword to meet the on-coming Sarafan and brought it down across one of their chests.  Hafiseph charged and meeting a warrior’s staff he blocked a thrust aimed at his chest.  Hafiseph then countered, raising his sword and slicing open the Sarafan’s head.  Lesitabah caught his enemy by surprise, shifting to the spectral realm then shifting back to the material realm and positioned to the side of an on-coming Sarafan.  The warrior stopped and barely had the chance to blink before he was sliced open.
Vorador was quick to engage three Sarafan at once.  The first warrior swung his staff at Vorador’s head; Vorador avoided the blow and thrust his sword up into the stomach of his attacker.  He turned and easily decapitated the head of the second warrior attempting to sneak up behind him.  The third was not so eager to attack and decided to stay on the defensive.  Seeing this, Vorador attacked.  His sword was met only inches from the Sarafan’s head but found its mark striking the warriors hip, causing him to fall to his knees.  Vorador approached and kicked his opponents sword out of his reach.  Looking at the now crippled warrior he said, “Where are the remainder of your former master’s lieutenants?  Tell me and your death might be quick, refuse and I will find a place for you in my pantry.”
        With a hatred so deep the Sarafan priest looked at the ancient vampire and said, “You will get nothing out of me demon.  All you must know is that you search the wrong place.”
        Inpatient Vorador summoned the blood out of the fallen warriors body and into his.  He stopped and observed as Drefron began his battle with the Sarafan lieutenant Zephon.
        Drefron called to his opponent, “Zephon, Malek’s lieutenant.  Face me and let us finish our battle that you began.”
        “You are nothing but another vampire to me.  Another demon I must slaughter to rid this world of your kind.”  Zephon responded.

        Drefron raised his sword and swung at Zephon’s head.  Zephon dodged the attack and brought his staff down across Drefron’s leg.  Blood from the gash poured out of Drefron’s leg, as he grimaced in pain.  Seeing an opening Zephon pressed his attack, swinging his staff’s blade toward Drefron’s side.  The vampire warrior swiftly stepped away from the attack and in one hand summoned a blast of lightning that he threw at the Sarafan lieutenant.  The energy struck Zephon in his arm causing him to lose his grip on his weapon.  The staff fell to the marble floor and drew the attention of both vampire and Sarafan.  Recovering and ignoring the pain streaking through his right shoulder, Zephon rolled across the floor with surprising agility for anyone dressed in a full suit of armor.  He grasped his weapon once again and deflected Drefron’s blade that was aimed directly at his head.  Holding the staff in his uninjured left hand Zephon used his body for leverage as he tried to jam his staff up into Drefron’s chest.  Drefron, momentarily knocked off balance when his attack was deflected, could do little to counter the attack.  He was able to move slightly back but not in time to completely avoid the staff’s blade.  It cut into Drefron’s side causing him to fall to his knees as a result of the pain.  Zephon began to rise to his feet and with intentions to finish off his opponent with a final blow he raised his staff high above Drefron’s head.  But before he could deliver the death blow he felt a sword penetrate his armor and sink deep into his chest.  Drefron arose from his knees and removed his sword from the Sarafan’s chest.  Zephon unable to support himself any longer, fell to the floor and died looking up at the vampire that had just defeated him.
Drefron stood over the lifeless body of his enemy, barely able to stand under his own power.  Vorador, Revinath, and Hafiseph, victorious in their skirmishes, approached Drefron with slight concern.  “Are you able to continue on Drefron?”, Hafiseph asked inquisitively.
        Raising his head enough so they could hear him Drefron said, “I am injured but not dead.  I will continue.”

        The others looked at Vorador who decided he must say something, “You are injured, we will search the rest of this stronghold for the other lieutenants but it useless.  I had a chance to read the mind of one of the Sarafan and although he did not allow me much opportunity it did seem that the other lieutenants are away from here.  Return to the mansion Drefron, regain your strength and be ready for our next attack tomorrow night.  Four lieutenants remain and we must strike them fast for they are the four strongest and most cunning of Malek’s lieutenants.”
        “I will do as you command of course Vorador, but…” 
        Vorador quickly cut him off, “No do as I say, you are too weak to even make it back on your own…Hafiseph will accompany you to make sure you do not encounter anymore trouble.”
        Hafiseph, although displeased with being sent away, obeyed Vorador reassuring he would let no harm come to Drefron.

        Hafiseph and Drefron returned to the mansion, while Vorador, Lesitabah, and Revinath continued their search through the Sarafan stronghold.