The bats filling the night air above the swamps flew as one, flying in between the pines of the evergreens. They flew with purpose and direction directly north east, skimming the low lying forests to the south before entering the misty and shrouded acres of the Termogent Forest.
They broke the silence of the swamp, their high pitched screeches echoing with no competition through the dim evening.
Then in one motion, they condensed together and became one. Out of their union, the form of a wolf bounded forth leaping from branch to branch as swiftly as possible bounding forth not stopping for an instant. Its speed, caused by the urgency with which it travelled, propelled it on faster and faster.
Then when it came to rest on the relative dry ground just before the valley in which laid the mansion of Vorador, it changed yet again and Kain stood there holding the severed head of the mansions lord in one hand.
Before him, the hidden reaches of the swamp concealed by the trees were alive with noise; yells, screams and the clash of sword on sword.

“T’would seem my return to this stagnant swamp is not before time.”

Advancing through the brush, Kain kept low to the ground as he moved, treading on soft and silent feet. The earth was damp, not enough to burn his skin, but it made the ground soft and he made no sound as he walked.
Through the occasional gaps in the trees he could see the outer walls of the mansion. Nearer still he beheld the unmistakable movement of many men. Sneaking closer, Kain managed to see a few of them.
There was no mistaking them for anything but hunters, all of them mercenaries from the east with the same foreign angular features. These hunters however were better armed than those Kain had encountered in the swamp recently. They had mortars and crossbows, their bodies armoured with iron plating clearly given to them by professional blacksmiths.

“The forests and marsh were crawling with hunters, each one of them exchanging their hourglass insignia for the icon of the new Sarafan order.”

Kain knew better than to confront this many of them head on, especially while carrying so important an artefact.
So instead he kept on moving, keeping as far away from the hunters as he could, threading through the brush and even resorting to his mist form once or twice to keep himself from wading through stagnant water.
The hunters were out in force in this swamp and Kain soon realised that they had Vorador’s decrepit home completely surrounded as they hunted down and killed any of the robed vampire worshipers foolish enough to be found outside the mansion.
It would not be long before they raised the mansion itself to the ground.
Clutching Vorador’s head a little tighter, Kain picked up the pace and soon the spires of the mansion were visible through the trees.

“I must be swift and deliver the head to Umah so that she might raise Vorador before these cretins overran the estate.”

Approaching the mansion from the west side, Kain came into a clearing. Just beyond it he could see the half broken wall of the mansion’s outer reaches and through its cracks the inner courtyard and the buildings themselves.
More immediately however, he stood facing a small encampment. Several tents were erected around stacked wooden crates, bottles piled on top. A small campfire was lit off to one side, with three hunters, one woman and two men warming themselves by it and helping themselves to a large quantity of the whisky in the bottles.
The woman looked up first and when she laid eyes on Kain, she scrambled back kicking sparks from the fire. She grabbed her weapon, a spiked trident laid off to one side.
“There! Vampire!” She cried out.
The two men, one of them a large man armed with a blade and the other small but with a far larger axe looked over their shoulders and then they too scrambled to their feet.
“How observant.” Kain remarked, watching them with a cold smile.  He made no move to reach for the Reaver but instead he walked calmly towards them. The Reaver was a claymore, a two handed weapon and it would be cumbersome to use while carrying Vorador’s head.
“Get him!” The little man spat, swinging his axe around as he made a lunge at Kain. Kain easily dodged the axe blade and then grabbed the axe hilt just above the human’s hands. With an easy twist, he tore the weapon out of his opponents grip.
“That’s not how you swing an axe.” He sternly and disapprovingly told the surprised human. “This is how you swing an axe.” With professional movements, he brought the axe whistling sharply across. It cleaved the human’s torso completely, moving through flesh, sinew, muscle and bone, slicing the entire man in half at a sharp angle.
The two halves fell to either side into the mud, blood spraying out from the cut veins and arteries.
The woman attacked next, jabbing at him with her trident attempting to stab him directly through the chest. Kain batted her weapon away with one hand so it lanced off to the side. Then he lashed out, throwing the axe he was holding and sending it spinning through the air.
Thrown at such force, the axe bit through her face and sank so deep into her skull that the blades emerged out the other side. Her face collapsed into itself with a sickening crunch, an eyeball and dozens of broken teeth flying out with the spray of gore. The body remained on its feet for a moment before it slumped forward and collapsed.
“Die you murdering fiend!” The remaining hunter spat, charging at Kain with clear psychotic rage. Anger made his movements clumsy and poorly coordinated. The brute’s sword swung around so randomly Kain almost didn’t need to move to avoid it.
Before the human came within striking distance, Kain tossed Vorador’s head up high into the air. While it was still ascending, he met the human head on and slammed his talons directly through the man’s breastplate. When his hand emerged out the back, it clutched the human’s quivering, bleeding heart. The human collapsed instantly, blood boiling from his mouth and the corpse falling onto Kain’s shoulder.
Kain kicked the man off, letting him fall backwards to crash into the concealment of a patch of tall grass. Still looking at him, the vampire reached up and neatly caught Vorador’s head as it descended back down.
He paused just long enough to tuck it under one arm before he turned back to the corpse. He much preferred to drink the warm blood from fresh victims but he was pressingly hungry from the long flight back and forth between here and the stronghold and so he summoned the blood from the dead body. It flew from the gaping wound in the chest directly to Kain’s mouth, only barely warm and a lot of it had been lost to seep into the ground but there was just enough left to satisfy his hunger.
The way to the mansion lay open and Kain made his way towards the walls. He cleared them in a single bound and stood on their precipice for a moment to look across the estate and survey its state.  The shouting and sounds of battle were coming from the far side and from this vantage point Kain could see signs of frantic movement by both figures in robes and others in armour plating.

“It appeared as if I were in time. So far Umah’s followers had kept the hunters at bay. But this could not last, for as isolated as they were and without supplies, their limited numbers would not withstand a siege.”

With that depressing thought, Kain made his way inside. The clouds overheard had been gathering, growing darker and oppressive and the distant roll of oncoming thunder made itself known. As Kain stepped through into the carpeted and luxurious hallways of the mansion, it began to rain heavily. The drumming sound of raindrops pelting the windows filled the background.
Coming down into a large entrance hall, Kain was suddenly confronted with one of the many ravens that made this old house their home. It flapped down in front of him, cawing loudly and beating its large wings in the vampires face.
Kain’s own rigid self control was the only thing that saved the stupid bird from getting a telekinetic bolt slammed into its small body.
Without invitation it landed on Kain’s forearm and lowered itself to look directly at the head Kain was carrying. It studied it for a long moment before letting out a soft, melancholy call.
It took off again and flew directly up a flight of stairs and through a curved arched door at the top.
Acting on impulse, Kain followed it.
As he half suspected, the bird guided him, flying through the corridors of the house, occasionally glancing back to see if Kain was keeping up. As ludicrous as the idea was of being led by the bird, Vorador’s ravens were not the usual sort of carrion. They were birds trained to be the perfect spies and agents for their master. While Kain had no idea exactly how Vorador had bred such birds as their connection to him, even in death, seemed beyond doubt.
The bird led Kain down into the vaulted catacombs beneath the mansion itself. Here Vorador had lain to rest the recovered remains of many of the vampires who had been slain by both Sarafan and Hunters. Vorador had also built into the underlying stone, a framework of pipes to drain the water away from the estate and into an underwater canal that connected with the catacombs. 
Down here, at least a dozen of the robed vampire worshipers were gathered around a stone circle in the centre of the chamber. Beside them, protected and lifted by four of them, was a coffin like box covered with a white cloth that no doubt held the rest of their master.
 When they saw him, all but one of them bowed respectful to him. Not a grovelling sort of bow but the kind due to noble visitors.
Now, Kain wondered, why couldn’t all humans be so well mannered like these good examples?
From in their midst, Umah stepped forward. She raised her arm and the raven flew to her obediently, perching there on the silent command.
“Priestess.” Kain greeted formally.
“You’re timing is impeccable vampire.” She replied, stroking the bird to calm across its black beak. “The hunters have us cut off. We lost many of our number taking this mansion back from them in the first place. We can not fend them off if they press their counterattack.”
Kain nodded, having seen as much out in the swamp.
“So I observed.” He remarked. “However I return with good tidings.”
Her eyes darted to what he held in his left hand, her expression turning hungry. Kain managed an ironic smile as he lifted his prize up, revealing to her Vorador’s head.
The other worshippers gasped at the sight, but Umah remained rigid in her expression. Slowly she crossed over to him.
“May I?” She asked imploringly and without a word Kain past to her the head, handing it over.

“As I presented her the head of her former master, the expression on Umah’s face was a conflicting multitude of emotions. Horror, joy, hope, rage and grief played across her face all in the space of a moment before she regained control of herself. She held Vorador’s head tentatively, almost cradling it.”

She seemed lost in thought for a long moment, her eyes only for the head and Vorador’s face. Then she took a deep breath and remembered herself.
“Then come… we do not have much time.” She about turned and directed the other worshipers, who obeyed her commands and began work on the stone circle in the floor. Two of them pulled at a metal handle set into the stone, each pulling aside two halves of a stone platform and Kain realised it to be a trap door.
The door itself looked like fairly recent construction, probably no more than a century or two old. The tunnel leading down from it was anything but recent, the stone work matching those Kain had seen many times in the ruins from the ancient vampire civilisation.
“Where are ‘we’ going?” He asked, watching Umah sidelong.
“To the reason why my master chose this place as his dwelling, so surrounded by water and isolated from true civilisation.” She replied, leading the way down. Kain followed close behind, the worshippers after them carrying torches to light the way. Between four of them, Vorador’s body was lifted down the tunnel after them all.
The tunnel did not descend far and the chamber it emerged into confirmed Kain’s suspicions.

“The ancient room she led me to was clearly not of recent origin. The vaulted architecture included platforms with no stairs and lofty aeries where only those gifted with flight might reach. With dawning realization I surmised that Vorador had built his mansion right over the submerged ruins of some ancient Vampire complex.”
 
“These ruins were made by the very first vampires eons ago.” Umah said, confirming his thoughts, her voice echoing in the vaulted chamber. “This temple is what attracted my master to this place, for its unique function.”
Kain glanced around the large stone room sceptically. It was round with ten pillars holding up a domed ceiling.
“Function?” He repeated. “And what function is this?”
Umah pointed to the centre of the room with a strange smile parting her lips. She held up her arm and the raven, with a short cry, flew to a balcony to watch them from its suspended perch.
“There vampire… behold.” She said and Kain followed her gaze, staring for a while not quite sure what he was looking at.
“What is this?”
“The Blood Pit of the Ancients.”