The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart: Touch of Ash

Credits; Krell, Rea,
Kelvin didn't seem to handle doors well.  He'd crashed through his office door, torn through Vionelle's, and now he was dismantling the portcullis on the local ruler's palace.  It wouldn't have bothered Krell so much if it weren't for the fact that none of them were locked and all had functioning automatic opening systems.  Kelvin was actually holding the door down so that he could destroy it. 
"Maybe a door called him fat when he was little?"
"I think it would have had to do something more traumatic than that to make him hate them this much. You think a door touched him as a child or something?"
"Could just be pent up sexual tension or something, Father.  A sort of Freudian hatred of anything that blocks a portal, maybe he got shunned by one to many virgins and is taking it out on doors."
"Rea, that makes absolutely no sense."
"I win!  You're buying lunch next time Kelvin calms down long enough for us to sit down somewhere and eat."

They followed Kelvin.  He kept a good pace, in spite of slaughtering everything in his path.  But with nothing to get in their way, Krell and Rea were quite able to keep up at a steady walk. 
"Halt!  My master wishes you to end this slaughter, he will see you in his office and you can discuss what you want with him in private."
"Very well then, but it must be truely private."
"Of course, he would allow no other way."

Kelvin sheathed his sword, in as much as one could call placing his sword inside of his chest with the blade sticking out from behind his shoulder sheathing it.  Apparently the whole 'Bladeheart' thing was literal, as with his sword sheathed his heart, lodged firmly on the crossguard of his sword, was precisely where it ought to be in his chest.  It was morbid, to say the least.  Krell and Rea knew not to think about such things to hard, but apparently the guard didn't.  After expelling much of his last meal, and possibly the one prior, he wiped himself off and feebly invited them to follow him. 
It was a nice palace, realtively new certianly.  And a backwater like this didn't have the funds to build anything truely grand.  And of course, with it being humans and all, there was little chance of it being built to code, Villain's Universal or Gravagan Standard.  He hadn't seen a single death trap yet.  A large double door, Wood facade with gold inlay over something stronger, titanium maybe, marked the entrance to the local ruler's office.  Krell stopped them before they entered. 
"Kelvin, real quick, do you mind if I do the talking this time?"
"Alright, if you think you can handle him.  But if you need help just step aside and I'll handle him."

The office contained an ornate desk, lavish blinds, several paintings of the man behind the desk, and a few scantily clad women to each side of the desk, all armed.  Behind the desk was a rather thickly built man, human, between the ages of forty and fifty but he clearly kept active, with a thick mustache and a military looking uniform. 
"Good afternoon, my firends and I have been tracking down a cult on your planet and we were hoping you could be of some assitance, Mr?"
"General Tange, your companion killed twenty of my men, intimidated one of my citizens, and broke my door.  Is he for hire?"
"Not likely, although I do apologize for the men and the intimidation."
"Pity."  The man stood up and stretched his hand across the table.  "Well then it was nice meeting you Mr?"
Krell took his hand and leaned in.  "Father Krell, tell your Great-Grandfather I said hello."
"My what?"
"Touch of Ash."
He swung his hand through the General's remenants.  The best part of touch of Ash was that it left them standing until something disturbed them, which meant people were never perfectly certain when they'd died.  Unless you chose to brush them away on the spot or there was a good breeze.  Krell liked to brush them away on the spot, that way people were never sure if it was the touch from when he was shaking their hand or the touch when he backhanded them that actually delivered the spell.  Kept younger mages guessing. 
"Father!  What did you do that for?"
"Old oaths Rea, old oaths.  Besides, the book on his desk is exactly like the one we found on that last cultist."  He touched the desk and transfigured it silently and without added effect in case any one thought to check.  "Kelvin, it would appear that the cult has sunk its claws into the entire government here.  We should head straight back to the Casat Line and request fleet action."
Kelvin stroked his mustache thoughtfully.  It was funny to see him thinking, it was obvious how hard he was trying to make it look like he was that it was hard to imagine him doing any actual thinking. 
"Krell is right.  There are far to many for us to handle on our own."  A pair of blasts from the General's handmaids struck his armor ineffectually.  He reached behind him and hefted a floor lamp as a mace and proceeded to club them to death.  Krell decided to get a head start back to the ship while Kelvin massacred the palace on his way out. 

He arrived, less surprisingly than it had been in the past, to find Rea already waiting on the entry ramp. 
"What are you playing at Father.  There's no cult here."
"I have to keep him occupied for three years.  I know perfectly well that Lizzie, I mean Admiral Casat, won't dedicate troops to this.  If I can make the negotiations last a few months though I won't have to spend as much time ushering him around."
"And what if 'Lizzie' does send troops?"
"She won't, because I'll tell her not to."
"And what makes you think she'll listen?"
"A very good hunch." 
"Not good enough."
"It's not for you to know why, just that she will."
"Very well then Father, but if you're spending a few months sitting around 'negotiating' then you'l be spending a few months stuck with me and I'm not going to give up on this."
"I expect nothing less."

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart; Two Admirals

Credits; Krell, Rea,
"Admiral, We've found the cultists on Haranthor.  Your information was spot on, but it seems the cult has its fingers deeper than we'd realized."
Admiral Elizabeth Casat, fourth commander of the line and de facto ruler of its constituent worlds and citizenry, was..well she was not normally the most expressive person so it was hard to tell how she was actually taking the news. 
"And how is that any of my concern?  You think I have time to worry about a cult with the quarantine regulations and the labor restrictions and all these visits to parties thrown by local aristocrats?"
"Haranthor's military is under the thumb of the death cult!  If you don't act then none of it will matter and your great-grandfather's work will have been in vain.  You must act before they do, or it will be to late."
She curled over her desk, tracing the grain of the wood absentmindedly.  She was thinking, and doing so in such a way as to make it clear she wasn't thinking hard.  "Very well Master Bladeheart, I will consider your analysis with the utmost deliberation.  How long do you think we have?"
"Months, maybe a year if we're lucky."
"Come back in two months, I will have my men gather as much information as I can in that time and if I find the threat sufficent you shall stand at the head of my men in battle.  In the meantime there is a matter of some local importance I'd be much obliged if you'd attend to."
"Will it make you more likely to act?"
"It will free up some of my men at the very least, and some of them may feel grateful enough to help you regardless of my verdict on the situation on Haranthor."
"What's the job?"
"I hired some workers to fix up the eastern portion of the base a few months ago.  It turns out that someone in personel buggered up the screening process and I've got a bunch of Secloran troops running around my base.  They've got mages and have been teleporting reinforcements in.  My men have been able to contain them easily enough, but if someone could eliminate the mages we'd be able to wipe them out.  It would be a vaulable service to the empire if you would be that someone."
"Say no more, by her majesty's honor, I will defeat these foul magicians."
Kelvin charged off without another word.  The Admiral turned to her secretary. 
"Jennen, make sure to direct him into the simulation chamber.  The men know the program, have them run it on it full drill."
"Yes Sir."
"Ma'am, Jennen, Ma'am."
"Sir."
"I'm not hitting you."
"Yes Ma'am."
Jennen left to attend to his responsibilities.  Krell and Rea watched as the door locked itself behind him, a series of enchantments activated as soon as it clicked.  Clearly Lizzie had every intention of keeping their conversation private. 

"Pervert.  Father, and forgive me for assuming, Miss?"
"Miss Rea, young maid for a very long time."
"Could have fooled me, I don't think I've ever met a tight-moraled assassin before."
"What makes you think I'm an assassin?"
"I've killed a few before, you learn to recognize a Ukown when you see one."
Rea laughed.  "Trained and equipped yes, but never a member.  Dad saw to that."
"If you insist, I'll make no move against you unless you move first.  After all, playing host to interesting travellers is one of the few pleasures I have around here.  So what is Kelvin going on about this time?"
Krell spoke up first, not that Rea's determined stare would have been broken long enough for her to answer anyways. 
"I ran into a relative of an old enemy and fullfilled an old oath.  I justified it to Kelvin by telling him that General Tange was a member of the cult he thinks he's pursuing, instead of just being a student of the philosophy he's actually pursuing."
"So you finally caught up with the last of them?  Good for you old man, nice to know it didn't take you a full thousand years."
"When a man swears an oath, he better be ready to do whatever it takes to fulfill it.  Not like its the worst thing I've done anyways."
"What is the worst thing you've done?"  Rea piped in.  She may have jested with Lizzie, but ever since he'd killed the General she'd been giving him this look.  It was hard to describe, something between curiosity and disdain, but with a definite non-violence that made him worry.  Hatred, being despised, those he was used to; having someone want to not-hurt him, now that was reason to fear. 
"He killed a lot of people, got his soul burnt out by the Empress, and had to kill even more people for her to prevent her from doing the same to his family.  At any moment the Emperor could choose to call him back into the service and do it again, and because they use his soul for a seat cushion he has no choice but to do it for the rest of his unnattural life.  Why do you think he became a priest?  He feels genuinely bad about having to live forever and being an unstoppable weapon of death and destruction."
"Why Father, you never told me you were a Lich."
"Just lich actually, the last Lich rules a nice little settlement/colony/space station thing called Star's Rest with Katrina, his wife.  They have several children and most of them have gone on to lead prominent and succesful lives.  I'm just a lich, a being with his soul bound to a physical object to prevent its own death.  If my body is destroyed I regenerate at that object and get to go try whatever it was again.  Its not fun, it hurts like you won't believe..."
"I would."
"...And frankly I didn't know it could even be done to you against your will until my best friend's 'whatever it takes' daughter went and plucked me out of a happy retirement and sent me back out into the field."
"That would explain Lizzie then, Admiral Krell Casat of the Last Living Fleets."
"Sod off you runty little immortal.  At least I knew better than to try and live forever, messes with the natural balance of things."
"Well, at least your heart is still in the right place.  Maybe one day it can invite your soul over for tea and scones, wouldn't that be luverly?"
Before Krell could come up with a witty retort Rea had left.  She probably headed to the ship, if not to her room here on base.  Lizzie had already arranged quarters for all of them.  He felt bad for having lashed out at her like that, but she was being disrespectful.  Besides that, he'd been going out of his way to keep people from knowing who he was, and it was aggravating to know that she had figured it out so quickly.  He went ahead and took his leave of his Great-Granddaughter and headed to his own room, contemplating how he could either get back at Rea or make it up to her.

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart; The Downside of Bullet Time

Credits; Krell, Rea,
"Tell me who sold you this!"
"What the H**l man?  I never did anything to you."
"Tell me or I'll gut you like a stuck pig!"
"I'm calling the cops dude, you can't just barge into my house and start waving a book around making threats at people.  It's like, against the law."

Krell and Rea stood a safe ten feet away from Kelvin.  He'd found one of the books that Vionnelle must have told him to look for and tracked down its owner, who he was now intimidating. 
"He does know that's the dumbed down version of the Essential Generalization Theory, right?"
"Probably not, from what I know of Kelvin he wouldn't know the Essential Generalization Theory if it  introduced itself with a flashing neon sign and a personalized telepathic broadcast." 
"At least he means well."
"Chaotic Good might save the empire today, but it makes us hated for the next ten years."
"Eh, to each their own."
"True, I'll take Chaotic Good over Lawful Evil any day."
"Freeze!  Put your hands in the air."
Nobody put their hands in the air.  Krell stepped to the side of the hall, leaned his head on the wall, and laced his fingers behind him.  Rea chuckled and followed suit.  Kelvin didn't even notice the arrival of the, what was it that humans called them?  Police?
"You there, put that man down and get down on the ground."
Kelvin noticed them.  He didn't listen to them, but he did notice them.  You could tell because he made a sort of agitated grunt. 
"Put down the hostage, and get down on the ground, or we will stun you."

"Stun him?"
"It's like shooting someone only they don't die.  Humans use it when they want to take prisoners."
"Oh, you mean shoot him in the feet, hands, and then hit him a few times for good measure."
"No, the effect is simmilar only they use a lower power setting instead of careful aiming."
"But that'll just get on his nerves."
"Why do you think I'm got out of the way?"
"Alright buddy, you asked for this."

Older energy weapons always sounded kind of funny.  And on the lower power setting, the police blasters made a sort of angry burping sound.  The blasts weren't particularly accurate, rolling through the air as they flew.  They were probably moving pretty fast, but as powerful as he was Krell could feel the way time stretched itself for him.  FOr Kelvin, this was probably pretty fast, but he could have probably picked up one of the policemen and used them to block both shots, then set him back down exactly where he'd started in the time it was taking for them to hit Kelvin.  He glanced right to see if Rea was feeling as bored as he was.  She had somehow managed to procure one of the magazines she'd left on the ship, and had brought a chair in from the kitchen to sit in while she watched.  And judging by the speed she was flipping pages, she'd probably be able to meander back to the ship and put it back before the shots hit. 

Sure enough, she did.  He wasn't certain when she left, but she had drawn a mustache and a a full anatomical diagram on each of the policemen on her way back.  Darn good diagrams too, not that Kelvin would know what half of them were.  Although she must have thought of it since all the essential organs were given labels like 'stab here and cut to point B) for maximum effectiveness' or still worse 'kick me, I'm a spleen'.  Not that he could prove it was her, since he had seen her go from sitting in a chair with a magazine to leaning against a wall without so much as blinking.  Must be why she kept all those magazines, it probably really sucked to get into a combat situation and have your ability to percieve and react enhanced so significantly.  Useful if you were facing a few hundred men maybe, but against two police officers it meant a lot of extra time. 
Actually, that led to an interesting idea.  He'd never really experienced this time slowing until the war, maybe this was a side effect of immortality.  He'd never heard of it happening to mortals.  And it would certainly explain a lot of the stories he'd heard about them defeating entire armies, besides the vast magical capacity that came with being unable to die.  Assuming of course that Rea was immortal. 

The shots finally hit, Kelvin grunted and threw his hapless victim across the room at them.  He whipped his sword from beneath his ribs, which because of his armor and empty chest cavity sounded worse than it looked.  He roared and lept over the half wall that seperated the kitchen from the living room and upturned a sofa as he charged the, now rather wisely panicing, police.  It was a shame to see officers of the law disembowled so efficently, but he wasn't about to get in Kelvin's way. 
"I think the cultists must have subverted the local government.  These men were equipped like local guards."
"They were local guards."
"We should find the local magistrate and find out how deep this conspiracy goes."  Kelvin thrust his sword back into his chest and took off down the street.
Rea turned to him, acting as though it had all happened in an instant.  "I have the feeling we're about to destabalize the governement in this region.  Want to bet this 'cult' has made it into the military?"
"If it does, will we be required to intervene or can we just go back to the Casat line and ask them to look into it?"
"Intervene of course Father, what's the fun in getting those fuddy-duddies in the navy involved?"
"Those fuddy-duddies in the navy, as you so politely refer to them, have military grade weaponry, combat training, and salaries."
"Exactly, more fun for us if we get to do it without those things.  Come, the dour ditz will need his audience."

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart; Deep Space

Credits; Krell, Rea,
"This is your ship?"
"She's a beauty, isn't she."

Normally that line would have been a dead giveaway that the ship was a piece of crap.  But their new companion wasn't kidding, the thing was brand new, shiny as a fresh deca, and in spite of her apparent taste and personality it wasn't hot pink.  He didn't know much about small craft but it looked to him like...
"The latest in interstellar travel, Cystech Systems latest in personal transportation.  A customized Phastocruise mark V intergalactic yacht, fully out fitted with jump drive, star drive, gravity manipulation field, full spectrum energy dispersal field capable of resisting temperatures more than a half million outside of the livable range and direct hits from energy weapons up to forty million kilojoules, a responsive defense AI-guided missile system with self replenishing enchantments, an on-board waitstaff including personal masseuse, pilot drone, four-star chef, and two waiters, and best of all, it has heated seats!"

...Took the steam right out of his analysis.  He'd have guessed it was a four-year old MrocoMotors Type-Eight.  He'd been right about the heated seats though. 

"Come on, it's even bigger on the inside thanks to the 'Hull of Holding' enchantech."
Kelvin leaned in and whispered, "Looks like a MrocoMotors Type Eight to me, and not this years model either."
"I'm still wondering why it needed the missile system.  With shields that strong you'd need a battle station to scratch the paint."
"Would you rather I make it look like something else?  I'd be quite happy to make it look like a HrowLaine Mark CIX, or a Cresteil LV Nova; maybe a telephone booth would be more to your liking?  It can do that you know." 
"Does it do police boxes?"
"No, Cyssie said something about licensing issues."
"With who?"
"Yea, that's what I figured."

Krell looked at Kelvin, who simply shrugged and ascended the ramp into the ship.  He shook his head, crossed himself, and followed suite. 
She was right, it was bigger on the inside.  No real surprise there though, against the backdrop of the Gascan mountains any personal yacht looked small.  Despite the size it still felt somewhat cramped, the sides of the halls tended to be messy with stacks of crates and random articles of clothing lying around.  It smelled bad, and from the looks of things the only droids that hadn't been included were maids.  Otherwise, it looked like the ship was mechanical...was that a shoe sticking out of a crate of canned soup?  He stepped over and picked up a lone red, high heeled shoe.  Sure enough a number of dented cans of soup were underneath, sitting on top of several rather tawdry magazines.  How in the world had he gone from his nice, clean little chapel in the country to this...pig stye!
He backed up slowly.  And then spun about just in time to watch the ramp seal behind him. 
"Are you coming Father?  You need to be seated for takeoff."
By Kevand's whiskers, what had he gotten himself into?

He ran up the hall to the cockpit, found an empty chair and strapped himself in. 
"Mind explaining the mess in the halls?"
"What mess?  Sit back and relax, Neimath ho!"
The ship rose, accelerating quickly as it rose.  A brief rumble as they hit the atmosphere and then the vastness of space rolled out before them. 
"Why did I have to be seated for this?"
"For that?  We've got inertial dampeners and energy shielding to deal with the atmosphere, this is the part you want to be seated for."
She pushed a lever forward, and the ship lurched through space.  The stars faded as the entered the plane of travel, and the windows tinted to block out the black speckled white that took its place. 
"Well, that gives us four days to wander about and enjoy the ship.  Have fun."

Kelvin wandered off without a word.  Krell stayed, mesmerized by the slowly moving black pinpoints in the plane of travel. 
"What, never been off world before?"
"Not with a window, not for a long time anyways." 
"Trust me, it's much more fun this way.  Ex-military?"
"God needed me to serve my people in a different way, the Emperor understood."
"You know, my father once told me that the greatest heroes are the ones who know to stop fighting when the war ends."
"And you?  From the looks of it you've seen a fight or two in your time."
"I prefer to avoid fights, they get messy.  But I can hold my own."
"Magic?"
"Witch-Errant, first class; my liscense is long expired though.  Spent more than a few years at the Arcane Academy too, that diploma is still valid though."
"Weapons?"
"Well, the academy weapons program was a complete waste.  But I did a stint fighting on Anatolia for a while, a very nice man showed me how to use a sword and my father taught me how to fight properly soon afterward."
"What's your name?"
"Call me Rea, it's short for reaper girl.  It's a nickname, and it's all anyone living knows.  Pray you never know more."
"Then Anonymity is the name of the game Ms. Rea.  Call me Father Krell, no one's called me anything more in nearly four hundred years." 
"Forgive the mess, I'm still moving in.  My last ship had a bit of an on-purpose."
"I know the feeling, done it a few times myself."
Complete silence, she wasn't kidding.  Admittedly he wasn't either, but something about the silence seemed to express a much greater seriousness.  Rea was a lot deeper than she let on, other than her cleaning habits anyways.

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart; Flight Plans and Fangirls

Credits; Krell, Rea,
"Alright, so I get the impression we're going offworld.  Why?"
"Vion informed me that the cult responsible for our deaths has been reforming.  Using a set of illegal books they are spreading their beliefs and building their numbers.  Soon they will have the strength to attack once again, we are going into human space to find the books, kill the publishers, and decimate the cult once and for all."
"This is the same cult that Admiral Casat led the last living fleets against five hundred years ago, exterminating them, destroying their every asset, and enchanting the blood of their fallen into hunter golems dedicated to hunting down all hundred of them that escaped?  And Vion thinks they're reforming?"
"Yes."
"It has been a few hundred years, I suppose that the humans could have forgotten about the blood hunter golems, the dead regions of space, the Casat Line, or the ongoing war between us and the Seclorans.  It does sound like the sort of thing they'd forget."
"Wait, what is this'Casat Line'?"
"You mean the buffer region that Admiral Casat and the Last Living fleets established after they crushed the perpetrators of our undeath?  It's a region of planets along the eastern border that were caught in the crossfire and were left a zombie wasteland.  They cleaned up the zombies and built a militarized zone of living Nielda, still loyal to the Empire but self-governed.  They've been working to undo the damage, halt future invasions, and keep some vestige of the Empire alive."
"Why?"
"Loyalty, a sense of Honor; they could have just left.  They could have settled in the Upper North of space, many survivors did.  They could have joined the Seclorans and worked to purge us for our new undeath, a lot did.  But they chose to stay, and we're all quite glad they did."
"We should start there then.  If these 'blood hunter Golems' are mage's craft, then someone will have to know where they are and what they've seen.  With their magical senses they'd be the most effective way to tell if someone is a member of the cult or not."
"Ok, but I doubt we have the..."

He'd walked off again.  Krell glanced around the crowded transit station, Tala of Gasca Royal Spacport.  Somehow the tall, gray haired warrior had managed to vanish into the throng.  He muttered a few choice words, and then chose another to give him enough height to see Kelvin amongst the crowds.  He began to hover a few feet off the ground, brown sneakers dangling from under his robe.  It quickly became unnecesary when he heard his companion's voice from the ticket counter. 
"I'm an agent of the Queen, and I need two tickets to wherever the Casat Line is comanded from."
But before he could hear the response, probably an underwhelmed counter attendant asking for his ID, he felt someone tug at his robe.  His concentration interrupted, he collapsed to the ground. 
"Sorry father, are you ok?"
"Yes, yes, fine, never better."
Krell stood back up, brushing what he hoped was only spilled soup from his robes.  He glanced around, looking for his shoe, which had fallen off while he'd been hovering. 
"Here."  His shoe was thrust out in front of him, a thin gray glove holding it delicately by its toe.  "You'd dropped this, I wanted to make sure you didn' lose it."
He followed the glove up to the woman wearing it.  Not an inch of skin showing, she'd bound every inch of herself in gray cloth, as though it were a single bloodless wound.  From the way the cloth conformed around her..torso she probably wore armor under the cloth.  Even her head was bound, with a pair of metal goggles over her eyes and a few patches of auburn hair sticking out between the wrapings. 
"Thank you."
"I saw you with the warrior.  Was that Kelvin Bladeheart?"
"Yes, you know him?"
"I know of him, Do you know where he's going?"
"We are headed to the Casat Line, we're investigating something and he wants to start there."
"Take me with you!"
"What?"
"Take me with you!  I've always wanted to go on an adventure with a hero like Kelvin, ever since Mom told me the story of his duel with Archos, the scourge of Aquitae.  And here he is, on an adventure."
"I don't know, he doesn't seem like the sort to travel with women.  I bet he gets really chivalrous and ultra defensive, you could be a liability."
She dangled a set of keys.  "I have a ship."
"Sold!  Kelvin, I found us a ship."
"Just as well, I think the attendant fainted when she realized the magnitude of the threat we face.  You must be our ride, it's an honor to make your aquaintence."  Kelvin knelt in front of her and kissed her hand with the full flare normally reserved for a court noble.
"SQUEEEE!"

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart: The Hall of Vion

Credits; Krell,
"VION!"  Kelvin struck an accusatory pose in the middle of the hall, blade directed at the seated figure at the other end.  Krell glanced about and saw no additional drones, no windows, and no other ways out of the room.  They were trapped together if the door behind him were to be cut off, every sensible part of him screamed to leave before another fight started. 
"KELVIN!  WHY ARE WE YELLING?"
"OUR PEOPLE ARE DEAD ABOUT US AND YOU SIMPLY SIT ON YOUR THRONE!  I DEMAND ANSWERS!"
"What, dying again?  When did this happen?"
"I was hoping you'd tell me."
"Well, when did you notice that people were dead?"
"About three hours ago when this priest informed me of it."

The figure on the throne stared drectly at him.  He watched the black robe rise and come down the stairs to him, it was only as it drew close that he realized that it was a rather unflateringly garbed woman.  Save her hair, which in the dim light of the hall didn't even shine enough to distinguish it from the fabric of the robe. 
"Tell me what you told him."
"I told him that he was dead.  He informed me that someone had put a sword through his heart and then put the sword on my desk, his heart still on it."
"Then he really just now found out about the whole undead thing?"
"Apparently."
"Doesn't surprise me, he thinks I'm a very old man who uses youth potions and wears a black robe with the hood up."
"And what are you exactly?"
"Dame Viondelle Yellsdana, ambassador to the court of Gasca, appointed by the countess herself some five or six hundred years ago."  She somehow managed to roll her eyes seductively as she said it, a gesture Krell found both confusing and deeply unnattural.  Only a vampire could manage to pull it off without looking stupid, so it seemed she was telling the truth. 
"Well, milady, perhaps he'd be willing to listen to you if you told him, he doesn't seem willing to stand still long enough for me to explain it."
"Very well, on the condition that youfollow him around for the next decade or so and not come back unless its something truly important.  It's been positively ages since I've seen him and I already want him to leave." 
"Yes yes, just tell him that we're all undead and the government took care of it already."

She ignored him and turned back to Kelvin, who hadn't even seemed to notice that she'd moved across the room. 
"Well Kelvin, it appears that there has been some misunderstanding."
Kelvin snapped around to face her.  "Misunderstanding?  You mean the priest lied to me?"
"No, he just didn't explain it very well.  You see, we've all been dead for around five hundred years or so now."
"That's impossible, I'd have noticed."
"There was some very tricky spellwork involved, the people responsible wanted to make sure no one knew about it.  In fact, most people still don't.  It would be best if you didn't mention it to them, they would refuse to accept it and might think you're a bit crazy."
Kelvin nodded knowingly.  Krell couldn't help but admire the way she handled her words.  And the more he listened to her tailor the tale of the plague's arrival the more he began to notice the way that her robes actualy fit rather nicely. 

"And so you understand what must be done?"
"Of course, these cultists must be destroyed.  Any threat to the Empire is a threat to her Majesty the Queen, and anyone who threatens her had best be ready to suffer the wrath of Kelvin.  Come Father, we must make haste to find the source of these foul publications."
"But I was just..."
The vampire gently spun him about to follow the mad warrior back out of the castle.  "Yes Father, you should make haste lest those wandering eyes of yours be noticed by an unintended audience.  And we wouldn't want the good warrior thinking you were interested in young men, now would you?"
"Tricky vixen."
"Lecherous dead, run along."

He glanced back and saw her wearing a low-cut black gown with matching gloves.  As he followed Kelvin's widely spaced footsteps he couldn't help but wonder if the robe or the gown was the illusion.

Kelvin Bladeheart; he took death pretty well, eh? They say that under his beard there is only another blade(technicaly they're wrong, it's all mustache)

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart: A Cold Welcome

Credits; Krell,
"Where are we going?" called Father Krell as he stumbled along, habit still firmly in the grasp of the warrior Kelvin.  Since the warrior had pulled him over his desk an hour ago he had barely touched the ground.  The man may be thick as a fortress, but he moved like the wind. 
"The usual, lots of people are dead, and I know a guy who might know where to start."
He looked forward, to try and see where they were going.  His hood inflated but stayed in place, and he could feel the wind moving over his eyes.  It blurred his vision, but a muttered word diverted the wind away.  As his vision renewed he spotted their destination.  At the top of a hill there was a castle; a small one, but still a castle. 
"Up there is a man called Jaive.  No better man in the empire when it comes to information.  He has contacts all over the universe, from South Seclora to the Dwarves of the Far Up."
"Oh, then he definitely knows who killed us all."
"Exactly!" 

The door was guarded, a set of basic watch drones.  Light armor, a few blades built into the arms, probably had a small blaster mounted in the forearms nothing much as far as threat level. 
"Say Kelvin, does this guy know your coming?"
The warrior had already vanished from his side.  He saw the two drones in a pile to the side of the door, which had already been ripped from its hinges. 
"I'll take that as a no."  The priest muttered as he pulled up the hem of his robe and followed the trail of destruction into the castle.  Bits of drone littered the floor, and sections of the floor had been cut, gouged even.  He heard a small explosion and the room ahead illuminated briefly. He ran in just in time to watch Kelvin kick the next door off its hinges, as a rather larger, better armored drone began sliding apart along several diagonal cuts.  Apparently he fought as fast as he ran.  He pulled himself through the splintered remains of the door and got his first look at the warrior in action.  Kelvin was charging a trio of well-armed mercenaries with nothing but his sword.  One shot after another glanced off of his ragged chainmail, and still more simply tore through the gaps in his armor and continued into his surroundings.  Nothing stopped him, the closest mercenary had only enough time to bring his gun up to block the warrior's blow.  It availed him not, for the sword tore through the weapon as easily as a grain of rice and the armor fared little better.  The second mercenary fled at once as the black blood of his undead brother oozed from his headless trunk.  But the third drew his own sword and took a defensive stance, preparing himself for the fight ahead. 

Krell began to consider which of his spells would most benefit the swift warrior in the fight.  But before he could fortify his apparent companion, Kelvin unleashed a spell of his own.  With his hand outstretched he incanted a call for the doom of rime.  A powerful blast of wind, humid with a glacial cool, flowed forth from his hand and left only the man's imprint upon the door ahead unfrozen.  Even safely behind Kelvin and his frigid gale, Father Krell could feel the deathly chill.  He muttered the last rites for the fallen mercenaries as Kelvin stepped through the arctic aftermath and into the chamber of the mysterious man they sought.

The Continuing Adventures of Kelvin Bladeheart; Everyone's Dead

Credits: Krell,
"Help!  I have a sword in my heart."
Father Krell looked over his glasses at the long bearded warrior that had barged into his office uninvited. 
"Lets see it then."
The man set a sword down on the desk, sure enough there was a heart at the junction of the hilt and blade.  How it could have taken him so long to notice this he had no idea. 
"Well Mister...?"
"Kelvin."
"Well Mister Kelvin, i hate to be the one to break it to you but it would appear your heart has been impaled.  there's nothing I can do."
"But it's still beating, look at it."
The middle aged priest took a pen out of his desk and poked the heart cautiously. 
"No Mister Kelvin, this heart has probably been stopped for quite some time.  I'm afraid the owner of this heart is dead."
"But..But that's MY heart."
"Then it is my unfortunate responsibility to inform you that you are dead."
"Nooooooo!"

Krell stared at the howling warrior.  Torn chain tunic, beard seemed to go from the bottom of his nose to the base of his neck, and a single short braid on his back all indicated that he was almost certainly from one of the high mountain towns.  But the mark he bore was that of the Royal House of Gasca, the only mountain folk who'd wear that mark were the Queen's bodyguards.  If this was who was guarding the Queen's life then...Oh right, that explained a lot. 

"Well this won't do at all.  Doctor, which way to the nearest priest or witch?"
"I am the priest."
"Really?  Well then, I need an imediate resurection.  I'll pay you double your regular fee."
"Why would you need to be ressurected?  Everyone's dead."
"Everyone's dead!  What monster is responsible for this?"
"Well actually we've all been dead for quite some time.  I'm surprised that you haven't.."
"Come Father, we must avenge our people."
A chain-backed glove shot up and grabbed him by his hood and yanked him over the desk.  Next thing he knew he was flying through the pews carried at an almost imposible speed.  His last thought before the door hit him on the way out was that he'd just been sucked into a pointless adventure with a complete idiot.