Drahkuhl
Drahkuhl waited for the return of the Jinn-Magician. And when he returned, in a puff of red smoke, Drahkuhl was pleased. He explained that he had not been able to retrieve the Red Phoenix, or the girl who wielded the Phoenix, but had instead returned with the girl’s father. The Pharaoh was proud as he stood before Drahkuhl. He did not show fear. But Drahkuhl would drill the fear into his bones.
Drahkuhl had found many servants on this island, once known as Horse Hill. The shepherds and townsfolk had been easy victims. Their blood had also replenished his powers, that he had fed to the Jinn-Magician, to allow the demon to recover from his failure in capturing the Snow Wolf.
He was surrounded now by a host of Vampire Guard. Men and women of the island that he had taken as his servants. Their eyes were now cast with the dead blackness of vampire souls. Their fangs desperate for human blood. But he had only allowed them to drink from the animal stock, sheep, goats and even rats as he saw fit for them. They would be loyal, as his control over them was explicit. Yet without a sufficient supply of blood, they would eventually become decrepit.
He faced the Pharaoh, speaking the words, ‘You shall bring them to me.’
‘They will defeat you!’ the man sputtered, spitting at Drahkuhl’s feet. Well, he would learn to be more respectful. For now, he would drill the man for information on his people and their ways. This world was all new to him. He would need to learn fast if he hoped to survive. His enemies would be coming for him soon. But he would be ready.