New God Rising

Brief prologue to a story I though up while day dreaming. This is a first draft that I posted soon as I typed it. I'd just like to know if it's worth continuing and if it's interesting enough.

Dastel's encounter with Savage the Bandit


"My lord Dastel! You must wake up immediately!"
Dastel heard her words, but it was like an echo from far away. He was in that deep dreamless void between sleep and not-sleep. It was a young women's voice, perhaps a girls. It was familiar, he knew he knew her, but his consciousness was still too far away to make the effort to remember.
"My lord! The carriage is under attack by bandits!"
Bandits . . . what were they again? Bad, right? Very bad for me, seeing how I'm a wealthy young Lord . . . .
Dastel's thoughts were shattered by another whispered shout, this time louder.
"My lord! Please wake up!"
Savis! That was Savis's voice! But why is she in my room?
Reality rushed Dastel all at once. He wasn't in his room, he was traveling in his carriage to the Academy of Magic. He was far further from home then he had ever been before, that thought alone frightened him.
Then he remembered what Savis had said. Bandits are attacking!
"Bandits!?" Dastel exclaimed, obviously frightened.
"Shhh!" barked Conrad, chief of his current guard. "Keep quite if you want to live, odds are they don't know who their robbing."
Dastel obediently nodded his head.
Conrad glared at Savis. "You should have just let him sleep," Conrad said in a quite whisper "He would have been easier to protect that way." Conrad said it in such a way so that it was meant for Savis's ears alone, but Dastel heard.
Conrad wasn't stupid, he knew Dastel would hear. Dastel wasn't stupid either, despite what the clan's gossips said about him. Dastel knew Conrad didn't like him, after all, Dastel was the heir to their clan and, in theory, would one day rule it. Many people saw Dastel and thought him weak. They looked at him and thought 'oh how far the House of Kahl has fallen!'
Dastel knew this, he knew all of this and knew everything that was whispered about him behind his back, and once again he did the only thing he ever could do; he hung his head a little further, to try and hide his shame.
"Get ready" Conrad said to the three other guards.
The hooves of thirty-two horses pounded a circle around Dastel's carriage.
Including Savis, Dastel only had six guards.
"Damn . . ." Conrad muttered "That's a small army waiting for us, to think this was just outside our borders. . ."
All the riders were hooded, faces concealed in darkness. As their horses slowed to a stop, one rider pareted from the others. The leader come to make his demands, Dastel knew what it was already Your money, or your life.
The rider pulled back his hood, revealing him to be a human. They were all humans, the way it looked. Things were looking better for Dastel's side, so long as there were no magi among the bandits they were still a threat and so they might be able to prove they weren't worth attacking. Humans are weakest physically, and tend to group together, but their short lives, rapid reproduction, and efficiency with resources allows them to maintain a larger population then all the Fae combined. It made sense that there were thirty-two of them. They would need that many to be able to intimidate a group of traveling Fae.
Dastel glanced at the leader from his hiding spot in the carriage. By the looks of him, the leader was every bit as young as Dastel was, with respect to their different races. They were so similar, yet so vibrantly different. The young human was calm, with a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The young human looked down at Conrad's keen blade and smiled, unintimidated and unafraid. The very air around him exuded so much confidence that many would call him arrogant just by looking at him. He was a cruel leader, who kept his men in line with fear. Dastel could tell that with a glance. They say that eye's are windows to the soul, this young humans eyes were cold and lifeless. They looked out at the world as if they could not see it.
"We understand you travel protecting the heir to the House of Blood" the young human said. "Give him to us."
So much for them not knowing who their attacking.
Dastel looked at his men, then looked at the enemy and an shivered. This would get bloody. Dastel almost left his hiding place. Almost.
Conrad broke the defensive line that he, Savis, and the four other guards formed in front of the carriage and rushed the young human bandit leader.
I suppose that was his plan, and it really was the best plan for the situation. Take out the leader and the rest will scatter. After all, Conrad was a strong zampire warrior, he had studied the art of the combat for three hundred years, how could any human hope to beat him?
Some of the humans bandits rushed forward to meet Conrad.
"Wait." their leader said, holding up a hand
Three of pulled back instantly, one kept charging Conrad.
Conrad was on foot, and the bandit on horseback was charging him, a rusty sword held high above his head. This one clearly planned on taking Conrad's head with one blow.
Conrad's dash shifted the tiniest bit. As the rider was came into range with his sword he swung madly at Conrad's neck, but he was no longer there. Conrad twisted from the blade, dodging it, then launched himself up in the air to land a kick right in the center of the riders chest. The rider was thrown from his saddle, and in his place sat Conrad.
On his new horse, Conrad turned to face the human leader. The horse bucked at the unfamiliar rider and screeched fiercely. As the horse reared Conrad looked ever fiercer, the wind caught his cloak and blew it back, and the sunlight caught his sword and armor making them gleam into the sunset sky.
Meanwhile, the dismounted rider scurried back to his master.
The young human was strong. Dastal saw that. He was a leader, pride and confidence abundant. His subordinates followed him, his word was law. He could tell by the way the other men looked at the human, they all trusted his command and knew that they would always win so long as they followed him, and in return he would win them riches. For a moment, Dastel wished he was like him. But only for a moment.
"You disobeyed me Rickel." He said
"But boss, he was right there, so easy to kill! I almost had hi—. . ." The bandit Rickel sputtered abruptly, and with that the young bandit leader ran his own soldier through with his sword. Blood sprayed from the dead man's chest and life left his eyes.
Dastel's own eyes widened with fear, not of the corps, that was a far to normal terror. No, Dastel looked into the humans eyes and felt true fear. The human's face had not shifted up until now, as if it had been carved from stone, but just as he killed his own soldier —just for a second— the small smirk widened on his lips.
"We do not take demands from scum, especially of the human variety." Conrad said, pointing his blade at the bandit leader.
The bandit leader swung his sword wide —flicking off the blood— and smiled.
They charged on horseback.
Conrad clearly expected to defeat the human in a single blow, he had most of his weight behind it, but the human easily deflected the blow, and slammed the pommel of his sword into Conrad's unprotected shoulder as Conrad tried to regain his balance from his blocked blow.
Hugging his shoulder with his left hand, Conrad let out a battle cry and swung his sword in a mighty arc. It was aimed to decapitate the human in that one swing, but the human casually ducked below the sword's arc, which sliced the throat out the humans horse instead.
The human leapt from the saddle, and rolled on the ground. Conrad kicked his heels into his horse to have it trample the human under hoof but then noticed that his own horse was dead as well. Conrad leapt through the air, diving at the human. With the lightning speed of a zampire swordsman, Conrad rained blow after blow on the human, but the human took it all smiling. Conrad couldn't get a single blow through.
It was easy to see from the battle that Conrad was much faster than the human , and could strike a dozen times before the human could strike once, it was also clear that Conrad was physically much stronger then the human, and it was clear that Conrad was furious fighting with every ounce of strength. It was also clear the human was winning. The human, while slower, did not waste any movement at all. With every parry he would knock back Conrad's sword swiftly, with the momentum of the metal, not leaving time for a pushing contest which he would certainly lose. The human seemed to always be ready for the next block before Conrad was ready to deal it, despite being slower. The human spun and dodged with grace, sidestepping or deflecting every blow. Conrad's superior strength would give him no advantage unless he could lock blades, but the human would not allow that.
But even a human in the best of shape would tire long before the weakest among the zampire. As long as Conrad kept up his assault and kept the human on the defensive, the human would grow too weak to fight.
The human deflected one of Conrad's blows with a heavy swing, surprising Conrad and knocking him off balance. The human immediately followed up with a kick at Conrad's chest and widened the gap between them.
"You're the best I've faced in a while. I think it's time we get serious." As the human said this, he rubbed the cheap gemstone embedded in the guard of his sword. "Bite." he said, the keyword for activating the enchantment.
"Dirty human magic." Conrad snarled, getting up off the ground. He snarled partly because he was disgusted by the human, and partly because he had activated his animal magic, making his face change into that of a wolf.
One of Dastel's guards tossed Conrad a second sword. He was half wolf now, taller and stronger than before. Conrad deftly caught the sword and crouched. He was much bigger now, so even crouching he still stood taller than the human. Once again Conrad charged the human.
Conrad extended both arms to either side, with a sword in each arm he clapped his arms together, intent on cutting the human into peices. But the human dove into Conrad's swings and plunged his sword deep into Conrad's exposed stomach, then dived out of Conrad's grasp before he could react, and made a mighty slash across Conrad's back.
Conrad howled in pain.
"I can't believe you attempted something so amateurish. You fight with anger, nothing more. Anger does not give you power, only strength. You can only gain power from your anger if you use your will to direct it." the human lectured his bleeding zampire student. "Perhaps you aren't as good as I had hoped. A pity."
Conrad wasn't finished yet. It's hard to kill a zampire, especially one who's angry, and especially especially one who's deep in the throws of the Zarif, the Fae people's magic.
Conrad stood up again. The bleeding had slowed significantly, thanks to his magic, but that still left a gaping hole in the middle of his torso. In truth the Zarif should have made Conrad's skin like thick hardened leather, nothing short of a lance or a ballista should have been able to piece it. The enchantment on the humans sword must have done that.
The human frowned. "Can't have you bleed to death, we're not done playing." With that he launched a column of flame from his fingertips right at Conrad's stomach, searing the wound shut.
Conrad howled again, rage fresh and boiling. He swung his sword's down at the human, raining blow after desperate heavy blow. The human didn't even attempt to block these strikes, choosing to nimbly dodge them instead. Smart of him. Conrad's strength, supplemented with the Zarif was not a force that can be matched by human muscles.
"So. . ." panted Conrad "You're a Magician?"
"Goodness no!" the human exclaimed in mock shock. "If I was a Magician I would be living the easy life. Boring as it is. I only wield one magic art, fire, so I'm just an ordinary human. I can't enchant. As for the sword, let's just say it's on permanent loan, as I don't think the owner will be coming to collect it any time soon."
Conrad lifted his arms for a powerful slash, but the human had already slipped away, slashing Conrad's left calf as he went.
Dastel looked up from the fight for the first time. All of the humans bandits were dead. Savis's work by the looks of it. They probably hadn't expected them to have such a capable zampire sorceress with them. Dastel quickly scanned the battle field, he found Savis lying on the ground badly wounded, his other four guards appeared to be dead. By the looks of it they had been beaten early, leaving Savis to defend Dastel all on her own. It's hard to believe that she's the same age as Dastel, and yet already so strong. With Savis unconscious, Conrad was the only thing standing between Dastel and the bandit.
At that moment, Conrad fell to his knees, gasping. The human had ran his sword through him a dozen more times. The human was matted in blood, though not a single drop of it his own. He looked for all the world a red-painted demon from hell.
"I would ask you if you've got anything to say before you die." the human said to Conrad "But I honestly don't care enough to bother."
"What. . . are you?" Conrad gasp.
The human grinned. "They call me. . . Savage" and with that Savage, the human who takes blood from zampires, ran his sword through Conrad's heart.
Conrad fell, and died.
Taking in the site of slaughter before him, Savage grinned again. That sorceress of yours did her job well, Dastel. I had told them this was a kidnapping that would make us all rich, but I have much bigger plans then extorting gold. They were starting to hold me back anyway, it's about time I got rid of them.
That was all the words he had for his fallen comrades.
Savage looked at the carriage, "You're a shame really. Every one of your ancestors would have killed me a dozen times over by now. Up until you, every single leader of your family was not only a skilled leader, but a mighty warrior and conqueror. Masters of magic and the blade, they would reign terror down on their foes. As the stories go, your grandfather was once so great and terrible that he could cause an armed man to drop his sword and run in fear just with a glance."
"Surely you're not as weak as the rumors say?" Savage continued "Why don't you come down from there and test your blade against mine?"
Dastel froze. He had spared with once. Dastel had not been able to land a single blow while Conrad was unarmed without the Zarif. There was no way he could fight with this human.
"Sure, you might not be able to wield a sword very well, but just use your magic the — what is it you heathens call it? The Zartif?— instead." Savage said, as if reading Dastel's mind.
He had hit Dastel right in the sorest spot of all. What he hated most about himself. He didn't have a lick of magic in him. Something totally unheard of anywhere in anyone. Everyone, even humans, all possessed at least one magic art, though it took at least three to be a magician. Dastel had nothing. It was the reason his family was sending him to the city, to hide their shame. There was also, just maybe, the small hope that one of the masters at the academy would be able to awaken some tiny amount of dormant magic.
Knowing Dastel had didn't plan on coming out, Savage shouted once more "You know, that sorceress friend of yours is quite pretty, even among zampires. She killed thirty-one of my soldiers, which means she's just my type. Maybe I should take advantage of this situation?"
No! Dastel though silently. He woulden't. Not in the middle of all this gore. Dastel pushed the curtain aside a little to peer out and get a better view. Savage was right behind it, staring him in the face.
"Fooled 'ya." Savage grinned. He grabbed Dastel by the collar and tore out of the carriage, heaving him onto the ground.
"What. . . What do you want with me?" Dastel asked nervously.
"Simple." Savage said "I want to be the heir to the House of Blood. One of the strongest of all the Fae clans. You don't realize what you've got do you? Every other clan in this region is affiliated with yours. You're a zampire. One of the strongest races among the Fae. Hundreds of other clans of other races look to yours for protection. The Zampire clan is strong, it could conquer the world, all it needs is the right leadership."
"I don't see how kidnapping me will help you, I can't give away my position as heir, and the clan would never let a human lead them. None of the Fae would except it." Dastel said, confused.
"Didn't I just say this isn't a kidnapping?" Savage said exasperated. He pulled two black stones from his pocket and tossed them in the air. "You'll figure it out soon." Savage said, and as he did, he shoved one of the stones into Dastel's mouth, and put the other stone in his own.
"Wuf. . arg . .. tuu . . . dooing?" Dastel tried to say, attempting to spit the stone out. But Savage had already clamped his and around Dastel's mouth.
Savage swallowed in a audible gulp. Savage paused to remembers something. With his mouth clear he began to chant in some strange, disturbing tongue Dastel had never heard before.
"A'em sh-ke neva'tlew nehar'gu tallru-mahn se'veth tul. " Savage chanted this over and over. Dastel felt some strange force emanating from the rock in his mouth. It pulsed with the beat of his heart, by the third chat Dastel felt as though something was pulling at his very soul, like his mind was being ripped apart, then put back together again. He felt the hand slip off his mouth, and knew Savage was experiencing the same thing he was. He attempted to spit the stone out again, but found he couldn't control his body.
Arcs of black and crimson flashed across his vision, stars swirled around in his head. Through it all Dastel was vaguely aware of Savage lying on the ground next to him. If it was for the fact that his mouth was still chanting, one would think he was a corps. Suddenly Dastel realized that he had swallowed his stone as well, and that his mouth was chanting right along with Savage's of its own accord. Dastel panicked. He knew this was a spell, a very old and very powerful spell. How this bandit came across such a powerful mystic artifact was beyond him, but he did know that whatever was happening, it wasn't good for him. He pressed what will he had left against the walls of his mind, but the spell was already rooted too deep. He felt it slip in, and began to take over.
Perhaps it's better this way. . . I wouldn't have made a good Patriarch anyway. . .
Right as Dastel thought this thought, he felt his mind get swallowed, and darkness enveloped him.