Thaland of the Walk Part 3

A sudden sense of impact through his entire body jarred Thaland’s mind into awareness. His eyes reluctantly opened, giving him a close-up perspective of slightly mildewed boards resting atop rough-fitted stone. A short moment of disorientation passed before Thaland realized he was exactly where he had ‘died’, lying face-down on the stone floor of the warehouse basement.

So, the job did not come with any special perks like physical comfort or soft beds. His entire body, every muscle, tendon and bone seemed to with excruciating pain. Thaland groaned softly and moved his arms experimentally. His limbs refused to obey at first. Only deliberate focus forced them to slowly, reluctantly, respond to the commands his mind was sending. He slowly dragged his right hand to his head as he also forced his neck to bring his face toward it. A silvery-gray ring with subtle, complex engravings was on his middle finger.
So it was real, he was a Justicar!! The guard captain literally smiled painfully as he slowly forced the rest of his pain-wracked body to obey his commands. After what seemed an eternity, he rose to his hands and knees before crawling to the stack of crates Grandfather Bones had been hiding behind. After a brief rest, Thaland’s screaming muscles eased their complaints, allowing him to use the crates’ external framing as a ladder to climb to a standing position.
“I am surprised to see you moving, guardsman,” came Grandfather Bones’ voice from the direction of the trapdoor. “Every person, cat, rat and roach in this building is deceased, yet you still move. You shall have to tell how you have accomplished this before I replenish myself on your blood.”

Thaland stiffened at the vampire’s words. His mind was curiously both paralyzed with fright and contemptuous of the undead creature’s promises. He drew a deep, steadying breath and was startled to not feel air moving through his windpipe. He exhaled forcefully with his left hand in front of his mouth and detected only a wisp of air caress his fingertips. He put his hand to his neck to check his pulse; nothing. Nothing? Was he then truly an undead? Thaland was just about to pull his finger away when the slightest thump of blood passed through his artery.

Somewhere between life and death then? As odd at it seemed, it also made sense for the judgement passed during the passage from life to eternity. Thaland’s mind reeled as it tried to accommodate itself to his sudden change in perspective. He was startled to find himself chuckling, which only served to make the situation more ridiculous. How he could make the sound without truly breathing, he didn’t know, but it was there. The chuckling grew into raucous laughter that threatened to dissolve in hysterics. Thaland clung to the boxes for support as his body threatened to collapse.

“What is this?” Grandfather Bones asked in a truly surprised tone. He was used to inducing terror and begging from his intended victims, not mirth. “Why are you laughing?” the undead being demanded when Thaland’s hysterics continued.
Thaland waved his left hand in acknowledgement of the vampire’s words and struggled to restore reason’s control of his mind. “I am laughing Grandfather Bones, because you can no longer threaten me. You may damage my body, but you cannot kill me…I have already died.”

“How is that you move, then? What do you mean?” Grandfather Bones demanded incredulously.

“The spell, whatever it was, killed me. My spirit went to the next world,” Thaland replied as he steadied himself and turned. “At the gates of eternity, I was offered the chance to come back and work justice on the world.” Thaland raised his right hand, exposing the ring, “I took it.”

“A Justicar,” Grandfather Bones breathed in horrified awe. “The legends of old speak truly.”

“Aye,” Thaland replied, suddenly sure of himself and his duty. “You have much to answer for, Grandfather Bones. Your very existence is a blight in White’s eyes and your role as a hand-fed executioner is an insult to the powers Blood gave you upon your transformation.”

The vampire recoiled from Thaland’s vehemence, then bristled in rage. “You dare to judge me? You, who were quaking before my presence this very Turn?” Grandfather Bones quivered in rage. “I have been killing and feeding on the living for nearly a millennia!”

Sudden knowledge sprang unbidden into Thaland’s mind. “Just as you, after you wandered down the wrong passage in a forgotten crypt, I am no longer who or what I was.” Thaland countered, advancing a step toward the vampire. “The difference is, The Scale-Bearer is particular who he bestows his powers upon, Blood’s depravity is splashed about like paint from a shattered pot.”

Thaland stooped to retrieve his sword from the straw-flecked floor, noting the changes worked upon his sword with interest. The plain, round pommel had transformed into a highly-detailed skull. The simple bar of the cross-guards now resembled a balance scale and the silvery steel of the simple blade was now a charcoal-toned wave-like flamberge-style blade.

The new Justicar held the blade in ‘guard’ position and advanced another stride, drawing great satisfaction from watching the vampire shrink away. “You are a shameful thing, Grandfather Bones. The evil you have done since your conversion to the undead blots out your former honest pursuit of knowledge.”

“Grant me your benevolent mercy, Justicar,” the vampire pleaded in a slightly quavering voice. “I destroyed any semblance of symbiosis with the Guilds when I killed their servants just now.”

“That does nothing to atone for the people you’ve killed as the Guild’s pet assassin,” Thaland replied brusquely as he advanced another stride. Faint traces of blue and white sparks traced the cutting edges of the blade as he prepared to strike.

“Wait, wait!” Grandfather Bones wailed in terror. “I have gathered and stored treasure, scrolls and valuable artifacts in my dwelling! I shall give it freely to you to distribute to those who need it!”

“You trust a lowly Captain of the Watch with your fortune?” Thaland relaxed his stance from ‘attack’ to ‘guard’. He was taken aback by this apparent show of trust (or was it desperation?) but refused to trust the vampire now any more than he would have as a mortal.