Creations of the hunters
soldiers, and heard the footsteps of a fleeing man receding down the corridor. The body of En'esh was nowhere to be seen.
Haqim gave chase, for he knew that Khayyin was the one who had struck him down. The din of battle outside the palace told him he must hurry. He raced down the steps and through the carnage that soaked the palace gardens with blood, snatching up a spear and a handful of javelins from his fallen troops. In the distance, he saw the fleeing form of Khayyin with the body of Prince En'esh across his shoulders. Haqim halted and cast his first javelin, taking the demon through the knee, and Khayyin fell.
Before the outlander could stand again, Haqim was on him, striking again and again with his great spear. Yet Khayyin did not die, despite his grievous wounds. With one hand, he cast Haqim aside like a pebble. And then, as the lord of the armies watched in horror, the demon's rage took him and his blood boiled. With a single stamp of his foot, Khayyin shook the ground, and the buildings of En'esh toppled. With a mighty howl, he breathed out a firestorm and scorched the city's fields. He spread his arms wide and drew in breath, and the blood of the people of En'esh flowed into him like a river.
"Enough!" cried out Haqim. "I will end this now!" He rushed at Khayyin, spear raised high to strike at the demon's heart. But Khayyin grasped Haqim by the throat and shook him like a dog.
"Attend and hear, presumptuous creature," the demon hissed. "I am the scion of a line older than you can imagine. My god cursed me, yet I found older powers than him and made their strength mine. I would have made this city the heart of an empire of the night to last ten thousand years, and your rulers would have lived forever had you not interfered. Yet now your city lies in ruins, for you thought to oppose me. Remember this, in your final moments: you have failed, and I will begin this work again elsewhere, for the strength of a mortal is nothing against that of my blood." And he sank his fangs into Haqim's throat and drained him of his life's blood. Then Khayyin cast the general into the ruins of the palace and fled into the night, carrying the limp form of Prince En'esh.
Haqim's few surviving soldiers gathered around the broken body of their leader. Haqim still breathed, but his life was ebbing quickly. He beckoned his three remaining lieutenants closer. As they knelt beside him he whispered to them:
"I have seen to the heart of the evil that is Khayyin. He and all he would beget are forsaken by the gods, and yet that very fact gives them great power. Blood is their strength, and it is the dark magic of that blood that makes them what they are. I cannot allow Khayyin's vision of his empire of the night to go unchallenged - though the only path I can see to oppose him may result in my own soul being forfeit. Now, bear me to the throne room, that I may request one last boon of my king and queen."
The soldiers lifted Haqim up and carried him to the throne room, where the bodies of the king and queen lay where they fell. Haqim knelt before them and whispered a blessing upon their souls, for they had been good and just rulers before Khayyin cursed them. Then he opened his wrists with the sharp edges of the king's crown and, as his life flowed away, he lowered his hands to the pool of blood in which he knelt and drank deep of the water of eternal unlife. When Haqim arose and looked upon his soldiers again, he was no longer mortal.
Then Haqim gathered his soldiers and the last citizens of En'esh and led them from the ruins of the city. They traveled into the mountains to the southeast, and it was there that they made their homes. As they traveled, Haqim wrestled with the taint that he had taken into himself, but the strength of his soul was such that the evil of Khayyin, twice removed, was no match for Haqim's will. Eventually, he mastered it and began to learn the power of the Blood. And when he was strong in the Blood, he raised up the fortress Alamut and his people settled in the valleys beneath the Mountain. And then Haqim began to hunt Khayyin and the gods-forsaken brood that the demon created.
In time, Haqim's most loyal lieutenant approached him and asked to be given the Blood, that he might hunt at his lord's side. Haqim studied the man's soul carefully, for he knew well the dangers that lurked in the Blood, but the man's soul was strong. And so the first Child of Haqim strode out from Alamut that night to hunt at the Ancestor's side.
In time, others came to Alamut, and Haqim gave the strongest and most worthy among them the gift and curse of immortality as well. Those whose spirits needed guidance became lesser servants until such time as they gained in strength. And the Children of Haqim learned well how to hunt the Khayyinin, and how to deceive them, and how to drink the Khayyinin's heart's blood in order to gain their power and remove their evil from the world.
And down through the ages, this is what we have become. Our skins grow black with the accumulated evil we have absorbed from the Khayyinin, but this outward blackening shows that our souls are not poisoned inwardly. We are tripartite now, the marvel of geometry, the least number of legs that can stand alone: viziers, to tend to the mortals; sorcerers, to ward us and our charges from the Khayyinin's masters; and warriors, to strike at the rot that has become too great for them to merely judge and punish selectively.
The blood of demons flows in our veins, but it is also the blood of the first nobility to walk the Earth, and it is the blood of Haqim. Those latter legacies give us the strength to shrug off the poison of the gods-forsaken. We are the Children of Haqim: his inheritors, his loyal soldiers, his spears and his hunting leopards.
And we will not fail him.
Interestingly enough, there is some independent support for this tale. Archaeological excavations conducted by a British expedition in 1931-33 indicate that a city existed approximately eleven millennia ago in the area in which legend places En'esh. The ruins do appear to have been destroyed in a localized earthquake and the subsequent fire. The epicenter of the quake was in the approximate location of the palace, judging from the directions in which the walls of other buildings fell.
The few scattered tales of Enoch, popularly held to be the first member of the Second Generation, do indicate that he was of royal blood (as such things were reckoned so long ago). One tale does indicate that he held a particular grudge against Haqim for an incident immediately before or after his Embrace.
One tale passed down by Nosferatu oral historians names Enoch as the youngest scion of the "First Brood." According to this story, Enoch's was one of a trio of Embraces that Caine performed around the same time. Of these three, Enoch was the only survivor; the other two were destroyed by an unspecified "hunter of demons." Zillah and Irad, the other two traditional members of the Second Generation, came some time later.
Contrary to the claims of some ill-attentive clan members, this story does not depict Haqim as a member of the Second Generation. His self-given proxy Embrace from the blood of one of Caine's childer was not an act of diablerie, and this would place him at the Third Generation.
Those who believe this story use its allusions to Caine as a "demon from the east" to support the Children's millennia-long grudge against the Baali. These individuals believe that the Baali are the truest children of Caine, as they are closest to the unholy root of the first vampire's powers. Some hold that Caine sired one or more members of the Second Generation whose names are now lost; these, in turn, sired one or more members of the Third Generation, and these lost ancients and their descendants collectively form the Baali clan. The distinct lack of one cohesive story of Third Generation origin among the Baali themselves (at least, those who the Children have managed to interrogate over the centuries) can be taken as further support for these claims.
Haqim gave chase, for he knew that Khayyin was the one who had struck him down. The din of battle outside the palace told him he must hurry. He raced down the steps and through the carnage that soaked the palace gardens with blood, snatching up a spear and a handful of javelins from his fallen troops. In the distance, he saw the fleeing form of Khayyin with the body of Prince En'esh across his shoulders. Haqim halted and cast his first javelin, taking the demon through the knee, and Khayyin fell.
Before the outlander could stand again, Haqim was on him, striking again and again with his great spear. Yet Khayyin did not die, despite his grievous wounds. With one hand, he cast Haqim aside like a pebble. And then, as the lord of the armies watched in horror, the demon's rage took him and his blood boiled. With a single stamp of his foot, Khayyin shook the ground, and the buildings of En'esh toppled. With a mighty howl, he breathed out a firestorm and scorched the city's fields. He spread his arms wide and drew in breath, and the blood of the people of En'esh flowed into him like a river.
"Enough!" cried out Haqim. "I will end this now!" He rushed at Khayyin, spear raised high to strike at the demon's heart. But Khayyin grasped Haqim by the throat and shook him like a dog.
"Attend and hear, presumptuous creature," the demon hissed. "I am the scion of a line older than you can imagine. My god cursed me, yet I found older powers than him and made their strength mine. I would have made this city the heart of an empire of the night to last ten thousand years, and your rulers would have lived forever had you not interfered. Yet now your city lies in ruins, for you thought to oppose me. Remember this, in your final moments: you have failed, and I will begin this work again elsewhere, for the strength of a mortal is nothing against that of my blood." And he sank his fangs into Haqim's throat and drained him of his life's blood. Then Khayyin cast the general into the ruins of the palace and fled into the night, carrying the limp form of Prince En'esh.
Haqim's few surviving soldiers gathered around the broken body of their leader. Haqim still breathed, but his life was ebbing quickly. He beckoned his three remaining lieutenants closer. As they knelt beside him he whispered to them:
"I have seen to the heart of the evil that is Khayyin. He and all he would beget are forsaken by the gods, and yet that very fact gives them great power. Blood is their strength, and it is the dark magic of that blood that makes them what they are. I cannot allow Khayyin's vision of his empire of the night to go unchallenged - though the only path I can see to oppose him may result in my own soul being forfeit. Now, bear me to the throne room, that I may request one last boon of my king and queen."
The soldiers lifted Haqim up and carried him to the throne room, where the bodies of the king and queen lay where they fell. Haqim knelt before them and whispered a blessing upon their souls, for they had been good and just rulers before Khayyin cursed them. Then he opened his wrists with the sharp edges of the king's crown and, as his life flowed away, he lowered his hands to the pool of blood in which he knelt and drank deep of the water of eternal unlife. When Haqim arose and looked upon his soldiers again, he was no longer mortal.
Then Haqim gathered his soldiers and the last citizens of En'esh and led them from the ruins of the city. They traveled into the mountains to the southeast, and it was there that they made their homes. As they traveled, Haqim wrestled with the taint that he had taken into himself, but the strength of his soul was such that the evil of Khayyin, twice removed, was no match for Haqim's will. Eventually, he mastered it and began to learn the power of the Blood. And when he was strong in the Blood, he raised up the fortress Alamut and his people settled in the valleys beneath the Mountain. And then Haqim began to hunt Khayyin and the gods-forsaken brood that the demon created.
In time, Haqim's most loyal lieutenant approached him and asked to be given the Blood, that he might hunt at his lord's side. Haqim studied the man's soul carefully, for he knew well the dangers that lurked in the Blood, but the man's soul was strong. And so the first Child of Haqim strode out from Alamut that night to hunt at the Ancestor's side.
In time, others came to Alamut, and Haqim gave the strongest and most worthy among them the gift and curse of immortality as well. Those whose spirits needed guidance became lesser servants until such time as they gained in strength. And the Children of Haqim learned well how to hunt the Khayyinin, and how to deceive them, and how to drink the Khayyinin's heart's blood in order to gain their power and remove their evil from the world.
And down through the ages, this is what we have become. Our skins grow black with the accumulated evil we have absorbed from the Khayyinin, but this outward blackening shows that our souls are not poisoned inwardly. We are tripartite now, the marvel of geometry, the least number of legs that can stand alone: viziers, to tend to the mortals; sorcerers, to ward us and our charges from the Khayyinin's masters; and warriors, to strike at the rot that has become too great for them to merely judge and punish selectively.
The blood of demons flows in our veins, but it is also the blood of the first nobility to walk the Earth, and it is the blood of Haqim. Those latter legacies give us the strength to shrug off the poison of the gods-forsaken. We are the Children of Haqim: his inheritors, his loyal soldiers, his spears and his hunting leopards.
And we will not fail him.
Interestingly enough, there is some independent support for this tale. Archaeological excavations conducted by a British expedition in 1931-33 indicate that a city existed approximately eleven millennia ago in the area in which legend places En'esh. The ruins do appear to have been destroyed in a localized earthquake and the subsequent fire. The epicenter of the quake was in the approximate location of the palace, judging from the directions in which the walls of other buildings fell.
The few scattered tales of Enoch, popularly held to be the first member of the Second Generation, do indicate that he was of royal blood (as such things were reckoned so long ago). One tale does indicate that he held a particular grudge against Haqim for an incident immediately before or after his Embrace.
One tale passed down by Nosferatu oral historians names Enoch as the youngest scion of the "First Brood." According to this story, Enoch's was one of a trio of Embraces that Caine performed around the same time. Of these three, Enoch was the only survivor; the other two were destroyed by an unspecified "hunter of demons." Zillah and Irad, the other two traditional members of the Second Generation, came some time later.
Contrary to the claims of some ill-attentive clan members, this story does not depict Haqim as a member of the Second Generation. His self-given proxy Embrace from the blood of one of Caine's childer was not an act of diablerie, and this would place him at the Third Generation.
Those who believe this story use its allusions to Caine as a "demon from the east" to support the Children's millennia-long grudge against the Baali. These individuals believe that the Baali are the truest children of Caine, as they are closest to the unholy root of the first vampire's powers. Some hold that Caine sired one or more members of the Second Generation whose names are now lost; these, in turn, sired one or more members of the Third Generation, and these lost ancients and their descendants collectively form the Baali clan. The distinct lack of one cohesive story of Third Generation origin among the Baali themselves (at least, those who the Children have managed to interrogate over the centuries) can be taken as further support for these claims.