The Master (Encounter)

The Master is the final boss encounter in Where Dead Men Walk.
==Enemies==
*Putrid Zombie (1235 Gold, 152 Xp, 95 Energy, 7 HP)
*Zombie Brute (1235 Gold, 152 Xp, 95 Energy, 7 HP)
*Zombie Lunatic (1235 Gold, 152 Xp, 95 Energy, 7 HP)
*Zombie Master (1950 Gold, 240 Xp, 150 Energy, 1 HP)
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
The path yields to a wide expanse of moonlit ground. Misshapen blocks of ancient weathered granite are strewn about, near the truncated cylinders of broken columns that stand haphazard vigil over the ruins of whatever temple once rose here. Only its floor remains intact, albeit worn and scarred -- a series of stone slabs sunk into the ground, arranged in concentric circles.
It must be centuries since worshippers last called out the name of whichever deity the shrine was dedicated to. But the ruins aren't untenanted. There are more zombies, standing and shuffling on and amid the stone. And one particular creature who draws all of your eyes.
That zombie stands in the very center of the granite circles, clutching a vicious scythe that was surely crafted to reap flesh and bone rather than corn. There's a strange contraption around his head, a metal framework that supports a number of...
"Braaaaains!" the zombie moans. "More Braaaaains!"
He points towards you, then at the collection of the aforementioned organs fastened together atop his open skull.
"They have spellcasters! Clever! Cunning! Their brains must be mine!"
"I think we've found the master," you observe.
An arrow flies from Tessa's bow, as true and unerring as all her missiles. It makes straight for one of the zombie's exposed brains. But there it stops, just before the dead cognitive flesh, and falls to the stone.
"Protected by magic," she says.
"Then we'll have to do this the hard way," you reply, as the crowd of zombies shuffles towards you.
===Conclusion===
[New Brawl boss unlocked!]
"Braaaaains!" The zombie master hisses the word in your face, as though it were an act of defiance.
He swings his scythe. But whatever he might have been in life or after, he's no warrior. First you block the weapon, then you hack at his hands until he drops it along with his fingers.
"Braaaaains!"
"Yes," you agree. "About those..."
You allow the shield to fall from your left arm. It clangs against the stone. Arcane energy coalesces around the freed hand, shrouding it in a gleaming golden aura.
"Brains?" the zombie murmurs, his eyes widening.
"Not for long."
Your hand lashes out. Magic-sheathed fingers plough their ways through his eldritch protections, and deep into the wobbling flesh of his brains. You're forearm-deep in the abominable mass of thinking-organs when you detonate the spell. Chunks of quivering grey matter explode in all directions.
There's one final chorus of groans. Then the zombies collapse.
***
"I wrote a poem in honor of your beauty, milady! Would you like to hear it?"
Katrina von Malhaven rolls her eyes. The noblewoman invited this one into her chambers for blood, not conversation. She's about to tell him as much, but the earnestness on his face stays her tongue. It would be like kicking an eager puppy.
"Very vell," she says.
"Her skin is fair, like the light of the moon,
To stare at her lips is a wonderful boon.
'Twould be..."
His verse trails away. He takes a long blink, as though his lids are tired and heavy.
Katrina sighs. When she feeds from the willing, she prefers their minds to be sharp and aware. But his poetry was proving intolerable. Thankfully her mesmerizing gaze silenced it.
The man's brow furrows.
"What was I saying?" he asks.
"You asked me to kiss you. And I shall..."
A soft, cool hand takes his wrist. Another clasps the back of his neck and pulls him towards her. He flinches when her mouth opens, grows terse in her grasp. They often do, the first time. But he makes no demur. And thus he accepts the crimson kiss. Her fangs pierce the side of his neck without a qualm.
His blood is warm and sweet. There's little remarkable in it, but it's pleasant all the same. It slakes her thirst and satisfies her desires -- or at least their sanguine portion. The rest shall be tended to soon enough.
"Twould be beyond my imaginings..." he murmurs.
"Another knight, Katrina? Soon you'll have tasted all of our chivalry."
Her mouth pulls away from the man's neck. She turns to the doorway with a soft hiss on her lips.
"Markgraf!" the knight gasps.
"I'm feeding, Otto!" Katrina says.
"So I see... And what an interesting vintage it must be. Rough but strong, perhaps? Let us find out..."
The markgraf glides towards the pair. Katrina's eyes flash.
"Wait!" the knight says. He takes a step backwards, presses a hand to the trickling, glistening crimson on his neck. "Markgraf, I-"
"This one's mine!" Katrina's eyes narrow.
The markgraf grins.
"You know our laws... It is my right to sample all morsels brought into our castle."
"Milady!" the knight pleads.
He takes another back-step. But Otto von Malhaven is far swifter. In a moment he's in the markgraf's embrace, and his hand is pulled away from the wound. The man's eyes stare into Katrina's over Otto's shoulder. There's fear within their depths, but also disgust.
"Milady..."
Otto's mouth touches just where Katrina's did. His fangs find the same channels. The same blood washes along his tongue and tantalizes his palate.
The knight staggers backwards when the markgraf releases him. A trembling hand quivers against his violated neck. His face trembles as well. It makes him seem younger, a mere child on the verge of tears.
"Most bracing..." Otto says. "Pray, continue..."
The patriarch of the von Malhaven family gestures towards the man as though ushering Katrina towards him. But her appetites have been ruined. And as for the knight...
He takes one last distraught look at her, another at the grinning markgraf. Then he runs across the chamber and disappears through the doorway. He's still within earshot of their vampiric sense when the first sob escapes him.
"Something I said, perhaps?" Otto asks.
Katrina glares at him.
"I didn't expect you to return from Dracoshire so soon," she says.
"Alas, other matters summoned me back."
"Nothing unpleasant, I trust?"
"There are rumors, Katrina."
"There are always rumors in this castle, Otto."
"Ah, yes... But these rumors speak of interlopers wandering our lands. In these debased times, even the territory of the von Malhaven's is no longer respected as it once was... That's why I've given the order to raise the bones."
"The bones..." she says.
"No doubt you're pleased that the sanctity of our domain shall be protected."
"Of course..."
The markgraf's grin widens, exposing each of his bloody teeth. His red-lined cape sweeps around him when he turns, the material flowing in elegant curves as scarlet slips from sight and gives way to shadowy blackness.
He licks his lips and strides from the room. She can hear the blood trickling down his fangs.
Category:Where Dead Men Walk