#45 The Downfall of General Prumt

March 14, 2021

#45 The Downfall of General Prumt

"Mr General sir? Are you quite well?" Colonel Pfennig eyed Prumt with concern. The general's skin had turned a strange rusty colour and he looked distinctly unsteady on his horse. It was clear, at least to Pfennig, that his commanding officer was infected with the pox that was keeping most of Glymmsforge behind closed doors.

"Oh I'm fine, Michel - I'm great! My health is astonishingly excellent. I'm the healthiest general ever to lead the Glymms–" he broke into a coughing fit, startling a pair of crows which flew up into the pale mauve sky before settling again on a memorial stone.

The Colonel raised his eyebrows, held his tongue and resumed scanning the mausoleums that lined the road taking them deeper into Barfunweltz Cemetery. Another three crows watched them from atop an ornate tomb. Pfennig would never admit it to the General, but he was extremely uneasy about this excursion.

Prumt had become obsessed with the ongoing disappearances of Glymmsmen patrols, particularly after Lord Celestant ven Denst had dismissed the issue as insignificant. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, the General had ordered his entourage to gather their handguns, saddle up and accompany him to the cemetery where the soldiers had been going missing. To take such a small force into Barfunweltz (however well-armed) seemed deeply foolish to Colonel Pfennig but he knew there was no reasoning with his Commander-in-chief.

Another crow was cawing loudly, the harsh sound echoing eerily between the sepulchres. The Colonel was more concerned about undead ghouls than living corvids but the noise still amplified his anxiety.

Suddenly General Prumt let out a groan and slumped forward onto his horse's neck.

“Mr General sir? General Prumt?” There was no response - he had lost consciousness.

"Halt!" commanded Pfennig. "Help me get him down Kruschner!"

It took the Colonel, the Lieutenant and two aides to ease the general’s bulk from his mount onto the ground. They propped him up against a grave and stepped back panting. Another crow immediately alighted on the headstone, tilting its head to watch them with a beady black eye.

"What are we going to do sir?" asked Lieutenant Kruschner.

The Colonel scratched his beard as he tried to think. Another crow appeared and hopped onto Prumt's shoulder. Pfennig shouted at it but the bird didn't move; neither did Prumt.

"Check he's still breathing Lieutenant."

Kruschner stepped forward, using his sword to waft away the crows, which had been joined by three more. He checked the General, then turned and shook his head.

"Curses!" exclaimed Pfennig. "Get him back on his horse and let's get out of here." Five more crows landed on the ground and strutted around the General's body. Chasing the birds back, the officers started to manhandle Prumt's bulk back towards his horse.

Hauling the deadweight of the corpse back onto the general's mount was no mean feat for the small entourage of officers. By the time they had managed it, their corvid spectators had been joined by another black-feathered pair. Michel Pfennig and his men were sweaty with exertion and, he suspected, fear. The noise of cawing was loud enough to wake the dead, which was precisely what they needed to avoid in this situation.

Yet another crow landed on the general's head as it hung limply by his horse's flank. How many was that now?! The bird seemed to look straight at Colonel Pfennig then promptly bent down and pecked out Prumt's right eye.

* * *

The crows were not the only beasts watching the freeguilders. Lying flat on the wet grass in the shadow of a tombstone was a lupine form, its grey fur perfectly blending with the granite around it. Two yellow eyes silently observed the commotion.

The wolf had been following the officers since they entered Barfunweltz. Weaving between the sepulchres and gravestones alongside the road, it had remained downwind and just out of sight, but had easily kept up with the officers' horses.

A few sepulchres behind the animal, Lord Castellant Tarnos Greybound was running to catch up. He closed his eyes, trying to discern the wolf’s thoughts. Through their connection, he could tell Thorn was still stalking the Glymmsmen officers, but had been stationary for a while now and was becoming slightly tense as if sensing possible danger. Tarnos ran as quietly as he could towards where his wolf was hiding.

As he peered around the side of a towering mausoleum, Greybound fianlly saw the General’s entourage. They seemed very agitated as they tried to chase a flock of crows away from one of their mounts. The birds were fighting over a black and mauve mound of furs, silks and feathers. It took him a moment to realise that this was in fact the body of General Prumt. The victorious crow flew off, up over Greybound’s head, where it perched upon a dead tree and gulped down what appeared to be an eyeball.

In the distance, another human figure suddenly appeared among the tombs close to the soldiers. A pale, elderly woman, elegantly dressed in scarlet and white with red roses embroidered on her gown. The officers turned to her in surprised recognition, and then bowed awkwardly.

"Marchioness Weiß! What brings you here?" Tarnos could just make out the officer’s words over the raucous cawing of the crows. "You had best avert your eyes ma'am - this is no sight for a gentlelady like yourself."

The noble smiled faintly. "Greetings Colonel Pfennig. Is the General unwell?"

"Sorry to say, he is dead my lady! Taken by the plague which has killed so many in Glymmsforge these last months."

"Oh excellent," replied the Marchioness, "unspoiled."

The Lord Castellant shared the surprise he observed on the officers' faces. What in the realms did the Marchioness mean? And what was she doing out here among the tombs of Barfunweltz Cemetery anyway?

But in that moment of hesitation, all was revealed: In an instant, with supernatural speed, the dowager lunged at the Glymmsmen. With blade and fangs she had slaughtered the general's entire entourage before they knew what was happening. Tarnos and Thorn were too far away to reach them in time, and watched helplessly as she calmly proceeded to dispatch the horses too. Finally, she sank her teeth into Colonel Pfennig's neck and drank deep. As she did so, hundreds of gheists materialised from among the sepulchres around her. Greybound shook his head in astonishment, even as he mentally prompted Thorn to fall back with him.

So, the eccentric socialite Marchioness Weiß was a vampire! And the General of the Glymmsmen was dead. Greybound felt gratified he had monitored the Glymmsmen in spite of his Lord Celestant's disinterest - following Prumt today had proved invaluable. He turned swiftly from his hiding place behind the mausoleum and started back towards Glymmsforge. As the grey shadow of Thorn overtook him to scout ahead, Tarnos wondered vaguely why the aristocratic vampire had bothered to kill the horses too...