Context: The following story occurred during the vampiric phase of the Aggressive Expansion Era, from the year 618 to 631
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No blades, no guns, only fists.
These were the conditions set out by the Vampire Alshibad. Nothing so simple as a gentleman’s agreement, these rules were parameters created through a contract with dark forces. If anyone wanted to kill Alshibad -and everyone in the Protectorate wanted to claim his head for the enormous bounty- they would be forced to challenge him head on. In exchange, should Alshibad refuse a challenge, his blood would turn to ash, and he would die without question.
For eight years, Alshibad freely walked the twisting, winding caverns and tunnels of Esconderse. He slept where he wished, he stole the food he desired, any who saw him reported his face as soft, calm, and free of worry or doubt.
In the first year, assassins found it simple to approach undetected, but they always watched their blades or poisoned needles shatter against his flesh. Firing squads watched in horror as their bullets plinked against his skin and fell to his clawed feet. A tank’s main cannon aimed at the vampire, and Alshibad even spread his arms to give the soldiers a better shot, but when the smoke and fire dissipated, the tank crews found the vampire’s body and clothes unharmed.
In the second year, hordes of bounty hunters flocked to the caverns of the world. Alshibad made no attempts to conceal himself, and so hunters challenged him one after another. Each attempt resulted in a broken neck or spine, and the veins of the loser were sucked dry.
The third year saw Alshibad beset by the peldaks. Towering monstrosities of flesh, natural warriors, each covered in the scars of a hundred battles. Despite Alshibad’s comparative weakness, he proved to be a cunning warrior, far more skilled in martial arts than his brutish opponents. Kicking up sand, redirecting weight, using the heavy pincers that capped his head-tail to either secure himself to the ground, or coil around and rip chunks of flesh from their backs.
The fifth year finally saw the rise of tactics. Alshibad’s bounty had grown so large that an army of 500 zweihorn organized a gauntlet. Each man, all of them warriors, would challenge the vampire, then fight him one by one. Eventually, their plan was, they would wear down Alshibad, someone would kill him, and then the remainder would split the bounty. When Alshibad killed his 125th zweihorn in a row, sucking the blood of the fallen to renew his strength after each match, the remainder lost heart and fled. But the 500 challenged Alshibad as a group, and since the 375 were abandoning the challenge, that gave Alshibad the right to use the full breadth of his vampiric strength to hunt them down to the last.
The eighth year of Alshibad’s dominion over the cavern networks saw him napping in the fountain of an underground city one day. A young cirathan approached.
“Alshibad the Mighty! Alshibad the Immortal! I don’t think you’re so tough. I challenge you to fight my champion!”
“I would never deny a challenge. Go, call your champion so I may kill him and enjoy my breakfast.”
The nameless cirathan turned and whistled sharply, prompting a giant to walk out from behind the corner of a building.
A cousin to the peldaks, he stood twelve feet tall, legs like tree trunks, hands thick with muscle and callouses. Each footfall was heavy, cracking the paved road beneath him.
“This the guy, boss?” His voice was inhumanely deep, a softspoken man who’s voice nevertheless reverberated like thunder.
“Yeah, that’s him. Rip off his head so we can use it as proof, but don’t damage his face.”
Alshibad tensed, yet didn’t run. “You think I’m afraid of some freak? So what if he’s a little big? I’ve never lost a challenge before! And since you initiated the challenge, I’ll kill you once I’m done with your pet. Now come, you lumbering oaf! Come and be my next victim!”
Alshibad figured he could out-speed the giant, and so lept forward like a bullet, cracking the ground where he launched. Twisting his torso, his head tail-shot around, the pincers on course towards the giant’s jugular!
But he had no way of knowing the giant was fast enough to grab the length of his head-tail out of the air.
After the giant crushed Alshibad’s appendage with a crunch, a single skull-sized fist to the chest was all it took to make the two men rich.