Militia Of The Lost

It has come to my attention that most people are unaware of the story of Grandomina. It's not well known as stories go, I will grant you that. But let me tell you of it now. How could one resist a tale of monsters, and flames, and love?

A long time ago, in a long forgotten land, there were five men. Young men, barely past the age of adulthood, still without facial hair, voices higher than those of their fathers. Five men, completely unaware of the others existences, until inevitably, their paths met, and intertwined.

The Pilot

A man who went by the name Luke Illingworth. Pilnanh, to his friends who were few. The other four prayed to the God they didn't believe in for blessing them with such a gloriously intellectual human being. His father a man of the high seas, he grew up surrounded by ships and boats, and the water of the seemingly endless sea touching the east border of Grandomina. He learned to be a water pilot, and with ideas that advanced the technology by centuries, he became a critically acclaimed young adolescent. Percussion became his forte, after developing a knack for timing tides by the sound of the sea beating against the cliffs, like a metronome.

The Thief.

Kier Kemp, the man who made his name in magic, or rather illusionism. He would pluck things from his audience's pocket, and due to being completely stunned, they'd not notice when he walked away, pocketing their valuables. But he wasn't a bad man, was Kier. He had an ill mother and his sister to provide for, and he was determined to lessen their struggle any way he could. He travelled away from Grandomina occasionally, and always came back bearing the correct methods and goods to better their lives for the next six months, until he would venture out again. He supplied the other four with as much as he could, as if they were his own flesh and blood.

The Mechanist.

The only boy in the kingdom to be an open believer of Mechanism. His parents killed in a fire when he was just 13, Cyrus Barrone lived with his dearest grandmother until at 16 and two months, when she passed away from a broken heart. He swore he heard her heart stop ticking, just like clockwork he said. Barrone delved in philosophy, and fell in love with the belief that we are mere machines, composed of parts with no real intrinsic relationship to one another. He stood by what he believed, and though he was declared insane by society, he never gave in. Not once. Sketching his way through the remainder of his teenage years, he became dependent on art. And to use a phrase to fit, when he met Luke, they welded, formed a tight friendship, for their shared love of machinery, and clockwork.

The Vigilante.

Eyes like a hawk, Drew Woolnough was a part of a vigilance council. Anointed to survey the kingdom's comings and goings, both his parents asides him on the table of council members, Drew was not only the youngest amongst the gathering, but an expert in knowing everything there is to know, and seeing even what those strain to hide. Lacking in the social skills to make friends from a young age, he became withdrawn. Until the fateful night, where the five met for the first time, he became a selective mute. It was an honest wonder that he wasn't declared clinically insane.

And The Prince.

No complicated story to describe this fellow. Son to the King, lived and adolescence in the lap of luxury. But so alone. Despite being next in line to have reign over Grandomina, Laurence Beveridge felt more alone than anyone he could think of. His father was more concerned about the running of his land, and with his mother long since passed, Laurence was left to his own devices, left to stand on his own two feet, alone in a kingdom of so many.

There, you have it. Five barely men, who had never met, and in the disastrous events of one lone night, they became tied to one another.

It was the last day of the autumn season, and the sun had begun to set, slipping down behind the hills without another word. The King had previously declared this something to celebrate, and therefore, he was to hold a ball, and everyone was to attend. No exceptions. Of course, there were the odd few who tried to get out of attending such an event, but of course, it was frowned upon to avoid a Royal ball. Gowns were donned, waistcoats and tailcoats worn with pride. Even those of poorer standings delved into their savings, and the fabricators became swamped in orders for new designs.

By the time the night came, the palace and it's grounds were swarming with people of all social levels. Inside the hall, there were lights, golden lights that illuminated everything there was to be seen. Decorations that hung from ceiling to floor in different shades of acid blue, and mint green.

Laurence remained stood in the corner, black shirt done up to his neck, black dinner jacket left open. He was, unlike near the entirety of the room, embracing the dark colours. Dotted amongst the splendorous golden and ivory clothing, there were few who stood out, and the five boys were all included within this minority.

Kier and Luke had integrated well into the throng of people, both of them finding it simple, almost too easy, to find the pretty women who were willing to dance with the good-looking young men. Spinning and twirling, they became blurs, only visible to their partner's watchful eyes.

Barrone tucked himself away, out of everyone's way, into a staircase. His feet, and one leg remained on view, so he wouldn't be trodden on, if someone where to look where they were going. As always, he brought with him his sketchpad, and a pencil, tucked behind his ear and into the strap of his welder's goggles. He didn't want to be there, but how could he miss such scenes of beauty? He loved to watch how people work, how they operated. Just like machinery.

And Drew just watched from the sidelines, keeping his quiet thoughts to himself, just surveying as the dancers passed him in a flurry of noise and fabrics.

The King smashed a chalice against his table to gather everyone's attentions that night. They say that's what brought them. The monsters. The chalice was sacred. And nobody noticed. Until the windows shattered, fell to the ground and amongst the people of Grandomina. In through the glassless windows came seven people, laughing hysterically. Then the screaming started. People began running. Chaos ensued.

They attacked. They bit. They sucked. They killed. And the King could do no more than watch, horrified.

Luke and Kier teamed up. Fast thinking, on their feet. It was no surprise. With knives from the dinner table, they staked two of the seven, and watched as they writhed, and burst into a cloud of dust. Drew threw knives in their direction, arming them for the oncoming team of four. Nobody stopped them, and all were either too shocked or too afraid to help.

The remaining vampire tried to make a run for it.

Barrone blocked her escape, still sitting, frozen, in the stairwell. Laurence caught her ankle, and dragged her out, snapping a chair to take the leg to her heart. She didn't even yelp in pain, as her body was reduced to fragments of dust.

The five boys were congratulated on their victory, and given titles.

The Fearless Vampire Killers.