The Nightlands were just as Victor had imagined them to be: dark.

Ever since the powerful vampire Orlock had cast a dark ritual over the land, the entire country had been trapped under a veil of eternal twilight. While it was noon, dark clouds obscured the skies and dimmed the sunlight. The flora on the ground looked twisted enough to survive in this kind of environment, from forests of black thorns to roses with eyes.

They had noticed a lot of giant bats and wolves on the roads below, as the duo flew further north; they didn’t seem to attack anyone though, making Victor wonder if they were vampires in disguise.

Every crossroad also had a small shrine dedicated to Mithras, and all villages had a statue of the deity. From what Victor had gathered, King Orlock believed the light god would grant vampires a reprieve from the sun if he made his country pious enough and stamped out all the ‘heretics’ he could find. The deity never answered the vampires’ prayers, but Orlock never got the memo.

Their inability to find a quest, and the revelation that someone tried to kill him in his sleep, had soured Vainqueur’s mood for the trip, making him crankier than usual. “Minion, are we there yet?” the dragon complained, as they flew over a castle straight out of Dracula’s Remake. He carried the bag full of Renoir’s coins and cows in one hand. “This place stinks of meat, blood, and garlic.”

“The map says the next member of the legion is…” Victor stopped above a graveyard, between the castle and a nearby village. “There.”

The chief of staff landed among gravestones, his dragon partner crashing loudly nearby; and unfortunately, their arrival immediately awakened the citizens of the graveyard.

An army of ghosts and wailing specters emerged from the gravestones in a nightmarish procession, swarming the dragon first with hate in their empty eyes.

Vainqueur slapped them.

Victor’s eyes widened, and so did most of the ghosts’, as the dragon backhanded the closest specters as if they were mosquitos. “Your Majesty can slap ghosts?” the vizier asked, astonished.

“I have a Gladiator Perk for that,” Vainqueur replied. “I am Vainqueur Knightsbane. I can poke everything.”

The specters immediately collapsed into white smoke.

“Come back!” Vainqueur ordered, disappointed. “Give me treasure!”

Victor doubted ghosts would have dropped anything, instead checking Mot’s map. The document led him right in front of a random marble, gravestone.

  Ming the Gnome.