Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Dragna the Claw 08-18-05, 10:27 PM	Soziel Lorfeign moved through his battered human lines, forty deep and bloody, with lazy chops of his spiked gauntlet. They hardly flinched anymore, even when he purposely struck hard. If he didn't cripple them with his unnatural strength, they slowly rose, swallowed their pain, and awaited the next order. The price one paid for obedience were broken animals. How boring... They never awed anymore, either, as he strode in his newest gold plate with great ram horns spiraling from his back. It was a hell of time sitting down, but the added looks of insignifgance his enemies showed were priceless. Price, price, how father had fumed at its price. Yet war was as much a statement of fashion as it was numbers or skill. An army behind in the times would quickly find itself pitching clubs against claymores and supple leather against steel bolts. His armor had been sculpted of the latest steel alloys, light and strong and devilishly unique. The craftsmen had been silenced and risen for the zombie branch of House Lorfeign's army. Thank the goddess two men had enough presence of mind to snatch the ends of his crimson cape before the post-battlefield gore soiled it. If a trained unit wasn't so damned expensive, he'd gut the lot right then and there. They all were past boring, they were absolutely unfashionable. Yet The Cliffside War was far from over and every house had to remain well stocked. A bulky human named Daal, who cost Soziel more than twenty thousand gold marks alone, hurriedly bowed and reported. The small fortune hadn't been ill spent. "My Prince, House Al'Zareef has sent word of their surrender." Soziel grinned, flashing his long canines, "So the great house of summoners is spent. Excellent, commander." Daal bowed again, "Our lossess are severe, Lord, and..." Waving through the blather about lossess, Soziel simply nodded till he could take no more. "Men can be replaced, new weapons forged, armor repaired. What else?" The commander motioned toward the edge of the ranks where a four-headed creature from the Pit tore through human after human, spurred by several dark figures. "Many of the Al'Zareef nobles are resisting capture. Twelve men-," he cut himself off from reporting any more casualties. Soziel removed his gauntlet calmly and backhanded Daal, "Who told you to take noble prisoners?" Daal's head lolled and after recovering from a his daze looked fearfully up at his master, "Lord, I don't understand. We've never killed nobles before. Your father-" Serenity slipped from Soziel's face and he clenched his other, gauntlet-sheathed hand threatenly, "My father is not overseeing this army! I am! Take none but the surviving human enemy alive. They can be reeducated or sent to the necromancers for zombification." Daal scrambled back a few paces stammering, "Yes, Master. Yes, Lord. Yes, Prince of Princes." As the commander ran off to order the archers into position, someone else approached him from behind. He turned to kill the human for his insolence, but was caught at the wrist by a pale, delicate hand. It hid a strength, however, past even his own, and he smiled before bowing slightly at the vuluptuous woman. She dressed in barely anything but the thinnest indigo silk and a golden scaled veil. "Naphira." "I see the battle has gone in our favor, Brother." She slowly walked a circle around him like some low-flying vulture. Soziel removed his other gauntlet slowly. He was no prey. "You speak as if you had a doubt." Naphira smiled and ran a finger down the side of his plated arm, "House Al'Zareef is a powerful family, with more than a few demons and evil djinn in their debt." Soziel shrugged her off, "Was a powerful family. The last of their pureblood nobles are being dealt with as we speak." For once in his life, and long had it been, Soziel saw Naphira's brow arch in surprise, "You're killing them?" He nodded, sweeping a vambraced arm at the carnage in the far ranks. The four-headed demon had been put down by a team of vampiric soldiers, and the bulk of the humans blindly charged the Al'Zareef nobles. The Lorfeign humans' death toll was so high a mass heap of the dead began piling up. Even so, slaying men and dodging hails of arrows was taxing and slowly the summoners succumbed. Naphira's eyes narrowed, an obvious scowl even from under her veil, "Do you know what you're doing?" Soziel chuckled, "Playing war." His sister slapped him hard across the face, "You may have cost the lives of our family, our very name! When the other houses get wind you've destroyed the Al'Zareefs, truly destroyed them, what's to stop a crusade against us?" The prince sighed, "Fear, my dear, fear. I've made an uncalculated move, stepping up the ante of this war, and no house will know who else is playing for keeps. In a way I am Cliffside's savior." Naphira stepped backward, "You're mad. This may lead to the full out war of every house, vampire against vampire. You're bloodlust might have damned us all." Soziel handed his gauntlets to a slave attendant, "A bit overdramatic, don't you think? The houses won't have the stomach for this kind of war, real war, with families dissapearing overnight. Bygones will be bygones and all the houses will make peace. Of course, House Lorfeign will confiscate all the spoils of House Al'Zareef as is only fitting." Naphira scoffed, "And if they do have the stomach?" He shrugged, "Well then may the best vampires win."
Dragna the Claw 08-19-05, 03:03 AM	"I love this full moon! We don't get the moon down home. Makes you feel all mysterious. And its the perfect nightlight, too." Brak mused, a thirteen-inch imp like some bloated, charcoal cherub. He flew a wooded trail on furiously pumping bat wings. They were so tiny, if it were up to natural law he'd plummet into the wet soil. But it wasn't Nature that governed Brak, quite the opposite, the unnatural, the arcane, the abyssal. "Quiet you gluttonous lout and lead on." Kristos Gyhenna snarled, the vampire wizard who'd summoned this imp. It was unusual for a creature from Below to so desperately want to be bound as a familiar, but Kristos realized more and more that Brak was not the usual imp. He had a free will that astounded Kristos. Since his conjuration, Brak had been chased by three separate women for peeping, almost lost his head for an astronomical bar tab, and nearly gotten the both of them flayed for insulting a high priest's manhood. He also had a passion for cigars. However, what the imp offered was sweet enough to risk life, limb, and eccentricity, "How much further to the Pillars of Al'Zareef?" A gurgling chuckle and, "Not much farther, now. My old master used them a little too much back in the day. I could fly there blindfolded." "How about gagged?" Kristos retorted, tired of his familiar's prattling. Again he reminded himself of the glory that awaited. How, thanks to those brazenly overzealous Lorfeigns, the absence of the summoner house would make way for a new line of conjurers. House Gyhenna was well known for its pyromancers, but the addition of summoners to their ranks would put them on par with the mightiest houses. And who better to lead this new age than he, Kristos Gyhenna, the one-day Lord of House Gyhenna and perhaps even King of Cliffside. All he needed was the location of those damn pillars. The two ventured further into the night, the darkness of the canopy a welcomed companion. It seemed to fold around Brak like a second skin. The thistles and branches reacted as well, shrinking at the imp's presence, as if the natural world sensed Brak didn't belong. Kristos envied such a power, not being the outdoors type. He'd stumbled over enough roots and deadfall to appear human for all his clumsiness. Brak paid no mind. When the moon was nearly set, Brak stopped midair and howled. Kristos drew back and looked around, "We're here?" The imp howled again, then turned to his master, "Nah, I just always wanted to do that. It's still another mile." Kristos' fingertips lit like candles, provoking a small squeak from his guide. He spurred Brak on by flicking a flame at a time onto the imp's bare ass. In minutes they stood before the Pillars of Al'Zareef, famed site of the first demon binding. Over five thousand years ago House Al'Zareef's ancient sire Ghul managed to call a mighty archfiend and bind him to his will. Ever since, key members of the Al'Zareef family sojourned to these same pillars to commune with demons, djinn, and spirits. Unfortunately, with all their purebloods dead, the site of the pillars was thought to be lost. Luckily a few still remembered... Brak winged around the five pillars, each a rust-colored cairn in the likeness a grotesque face, and huffed, "See, I got you here. What a great familiar I am. Oh don't thank me, Kris, please, please, it was the least I could do. Show you the most secret and sacred site of the Al'Zareefs. No problem." Kristos carelessly flung a flamebolt at him, only half wanting to incinerate the imp. On the other hand, "Now show me how to commune with the dead. Using these cairns I must conjure the ancient sire of the Gyhenna line." Brak snickered, despite almost being destroyed, "You mean old Yazzy?" Kristos flashed his familiar a wicked look, "His name was Lord Yazzush "Black Mountain" Gyhenna. And yes, what of it?" The imp shrugged, slowly floating upside down in front of his master, "Only that your forefather is in a pretty nasty part of Hell. Right now, oh, I'd say he's getting his eyelids peeled off again. He'll be really, and I mean really hard to conjure." The wizard nearly fell to one knee. He knew his sire was particularly evil, and yes he supposed he'd have ended up in Hell, but it never really meant anything to him until Brak mentioned eyelid-peeling. A sudden curiosity of what awaited him sent a shiver down Kristos' back, "Fine! So if not Lord Yazzush, then what about-" Brak clapped and turned right side up, tee-heeing in Kristos' face, "I have the perfect choice. Someone respectable and more importantly readily available." The wizard nodded, "Who?" "An old demon pal of mine named Belial, used to get summoned all the time for advise. He should be a pretty easy conjuration for you. Through him you could learn volumes more than I could teach you." Brak perched on his master's shoulder. Pondering it a good minute, Kristos eventually conceded, "It's true I'll need a teacher and what better proof I am heir to the summoners than a demon under my command." He rolled up his sleeves and tapped into his arcane, "Are you sure he'll be docile enough to tame? This IS only my second summoning." "Docile as a cat," Brak reaffirmed. Kristos reached over and clamped his hand around Brak's throat, "If this is some trick, I will do worse than banish you, I'll stuff you into a bottle and throw you out to sea. It might take a hundred years before someone finds you, a thousand, maybe never." Brak choked, "No trick. Docile as cat." The wizard nodded and began to call his magic. At first it was the familiar burn of his pyromancy, but with Brak whispering directions it grew cooler and more alien. Exhilarating at the same time, as Brak motioned the hand movements with him and pointed toward which cairns to touch. A sanguine glow soon encircled the Pillars of Al'Zareef followed by a strange euphoria. "It's working!" Kristos laughed. Brak only grinned and continued instructing his master. Finally, "Now say his name. Call Belial." Kristos, feeling the surge of climax he could only relate to orgasm yet a hundred fold more, body and soul and magic as one, he yelped, "Belial." The full moon, just a sliver left peeking over the horizon, lurched back up into the sky. Kristos gasped as it washed over red and began to spin its cycle backward. Once, twice, until it spun from the west to the east so fast it became a red streak against the blackness. Soon the blur filled all the night and then all Kristos could see was red. He stumbled backward, clawing at his eyes, until it was done. Cross legged in the center of the pillars sat an unnerving "man". If he bothered standing, he'd reach well over nine feet, and his arms and legs were sickeningly long. He dressed all in red, a finer robe could not be found in all the world, and a black top hat to match. His face was a little longer than any vampire, especially near the mouth and bearded chin, and his eyes held a sharp gleam. When he spoke, the entire woods seemed to cower, "You rang?" Kristos nodded, at first without having comprehended what the demon said, then more assuredly, "Yes. Yes, I did. Kristos of House Gyhenna." Belial extended a long finger and picked between his teeth. He had four tongues, each forked and made of silver, "I know your name, dolt. What do you want?" Brak fluttered off his master's shoulder and maintained a safe distance while Kristos dared a step closer, "I command you to teach me the ways of summoning." The imp rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead while Belial, in partial shock and amusement, fell onto his side with laughter. "Command me? That's priceless. Where did you find this guy, Brak?" As Kristos' betrayed and hate-filled gaze fell over him, Brak shrugged and flew up onto the top of the third cairn, "Oh not many of them really know the heirarchy back home. Never suspected he conjured a prince." Belial ground his teeth, "A king, Brak. An emperor, in fact. Lord of all Lords." The imp nearly died of fright, having forgotten the ego of the high ups, "Yes, my lord, how stupid of me. You truly are the might of all Below. Why else would I trick this fool into calling your most unholy name?" The demon in the circle grinned, "That's better, imp. Now, what would you have me do with him?" Kristos evoked two lances of fire, "Wait. Just what is going on here? Do with me? I am your master! And you, you little ball of lard, are going into that bottle." In less than a blink of Kristos' eye, Belial was on top of him, his wiry hand like a noose around the vampire's neck. His fire lances extinguished and any other attempt to call on fire failed. Belial turned to Brak, "Now what would you have me do?" The imp bowed, "Return Zek Al'Zareef to this world." Belial sneered, "I see. How touching, Brak. We'd love to keep your old master longer, though. Sure I can't do anything else?" Brak sighed, gathered up his courage, and pronounced, "In the name of Ghul, Bender of Demons, I comman- err politely request you fulfill your debt." Squeezing till Kristos' head popped off, Belial snarled, "Careful, Brak. You'll have to come home sometime." "In the name of Ghul, Bender of Demons, I command you fulfill your debt!" Brak shouted. Belial tore Kristos' body to shreds in his fit then rushed up into Brak's little face, "So be it. But I'll be waiting you, you little ****. I owe you for such insolence." He turned away with the remains of Kristos and toiled in the center of the cairns. Brak didn't quite understand what was going on, but he felt near-godly amounts of magic working, and smell of flesh and blood. The imp could only imagine how strong Zek's ancestor Ghul must have been to call and trap a creature like Belial. More over, how insane had he been to free the archdemon after only a few short hours of conversation. It was the show of mercy, however, that Brak used now to return his true master. Belial worked until dawn, when, as the first ray of light struck the Pillars of Al'Zareef, he stood and turned to Brak. Zek Al'Zareef was curled naked in a ball at the demon's feet. "Be seeing you, " The archdemon winked and dissapeared from mortal existence, leaving the imp with his one and only master. Brak quickly flew down to him, suddenly remembering what he'd told Kristos. "Yeah, he's docile as a cat. A ****ing sabertooth cat..."
Savael 08-19-05, 07:26 AM	OoC: Hm. This looks interesting. I might just give it a try... BiC: House Name: Maethalon General Info: House Maethalon's control over the city of Colthorn, the Gem of the West, has made it extremely wealthy over the past few centuries. (More to come on this later). The news of house Al'Zareef's near total destruction has not gone down well with the rulers of house Maethalon. Who knows if their final nights are not upon them now that the full extent of the bloodlust of House Lorgfein's new Prince have come to bare... One thing is certain at least: should that fight come, it will be bloody, brutal and bitter. Threat: ? * * * Character: Culwen General Info: The third heir in line to the Maethalon throne, Culwen currently seeks to prove his worth and capability to his house by acting as an intelligence gatherer and troubleshooter for his superiours. OoC: I guessing the setup for each player would look something like this? In any case, as I'm not yet quite sure what other Houses excist, I'll wait just a bit with declearing House Maethalon's greatest threat just yet.
Dragna the Claw 08-19-05, 12:17 PM	((OoC: Maybe I jumped the gun a little. Bios would help shed light on everyone's character and maybe make it a little easier for everyone to start roleplaying together. Good call, Savael.)) House: Al'Zareef General Info: Founded by Ghul over five thousand years ago, House Al'Zareef is one of the original nine vampire houses, known collectively as The Covenant. They're called the House of Summoners because all pureblood and important Al'Zareef nobles are conjurers. House Al'Zareef resides in the capital of the vampire nation, Cliffside, where The Covenant bickers and wars for ultimate control. Since Prince Soziel's new take on war, House Al'Zareef has been totally destroyed and their assets seized. Any who managed to escape are a vagabond lot, though some may still prove loyal (see Brak post hehe). Threat: House Lorfeign is another of the original nine houses, rumored to have been founded by Toteag, a son of the vampire goddess Lithna herself. Their holdings in Cliffside and several other cities have made them powerful and perhaps a little too arrogant, even by vampiric standards. Prince Soziel Lorfeign has recently taken his house's power to new heights, yet in the process crushed all who have gotten in the way. His four siblings are no less dangerous and all agree House Lorfeign is one of the greatest threats in all the vampire nation. Character: Zek Al'Zareef General Info: To be revealed later...
Lectus 08-19-05, 01:45 PM	BIO: Lectus is the last known survivor of an unnamed house that was eliminated shortly after his birth during a religiously charged civil war between conservative magi and the newly emergent, supposedly profane blood magi. When he was discovered within the ruins of his family's home, a lone, merciful templar saw fit to spirit him away and have him raised according to the strict doctrines of the Unmother. Thus, he became a monk and shrine sergeant in the Unmother's service. Thereafter he became embroiled against various, clandestine plots to weaken vampire kind and lived to report on each one. Occasionally he was at odds with the Temple, but always invariably was drawn back to the Unmother's service, whether in an official capacity or not. Recently, however, during his recent foray to Gibber Peak (A rough, gritty city in the mountains to the far north, beyond the many human kingdoms.) began to discover the secrets of blood magic. Since blood magic is mutable, and almost organic in the way it is learned, he needed no formal training. It simply came to him, as he improvised his magic, and began to use his own blood as a reagent. Threat: House Huma, a house of necromancers and warlocks. For centuries, Huma has been at the forefront of necromantic research and magical discovery. They even secretly plundered the knowledge of the blood magi during their service in the aforementioned civil war. However, since the death of their leader, Alistar, at the hands of a band in the service of the Temple (which included Lectus), their power has slowly begun to wane. (More to come on their role in the story.)
Dragna the Claw 08-22-05, 07:36 PM	Zek moved down Main Street with the fluid gait of a vampiric noble, dressed in a flowing, crimson thobe and a tight, black ghutra. Brak objected to his master's clothing, such a robe and headcloth traditional garb only to the Al'Zareef's, but as the pair entered the city limits they found hundreds of people from every house (minus Lorfeign) dressed the same. Some said it was in mourning of the Al'Zareef family, but Zek knew better. Vampires were the only creatures able to turn a genocidal wake into elite fashion. He was certain the fad would end in a week or two, but until then he was just another mourner in the crowd; The only true mourner. Brak gaped as they slipped past alpine castles and aggrandized temples, vampires rushing like blood between them. Old alleys had become highways, others didn't exist at all. Familiar holes in the wall were boarded up and a slew of new establishments since founded. The names of inn signs were alien to the two and even the smells and tastes in the air strange. The imp watched stranger after stranger pass, realizing suddenly what Zek had known since his first step into Cliffside. The world they'd known, their home, was gone. Since the time both were sent to Hell, things had progressed, grown, darkened and there wasn't a friendly or even familiar face amongst them. "Where's Kayle, or Lilith, The Fellowship and The Brotherhood of the Sanguine Curtain? Didn't that used to be Human Gardens?" Zek frowned, "We've been away a long time, Brak. I had hoped to renew old alliances, but I'm afraid there may be no old allies left." The imp sighed, "Too bad. That Lilith, oh that Lilith. She had an ass like a-" Zek's shoulder tensed and Brak swallowed the rest of his long recollection. They had reached Al'Zareef Manor, or what was left of it. During the summoner's time in Hell, Bamunphet, Lord of Bones and his personal jailor, showed Zek each excruciating defeat his house experienced up to and including their demise. It was like he'd been there himself, feeling the heat of the fires boil his skin and every axed door and crumbled wall like blows to his own body, yet powerless to change any of it. The mansion looked more like a great barrow to him now, just as unfamiliar and painful as the rest of Cliffside. "My family's time is over, but in the name of Ghul I will wreak horrible vengeance," He muttered low, each word tinged with arcane force. Vendetta was upon Cliffside and no house, however high or low, would go unscathed, especially House Lorfeign. Brak gathered as much from Zek's eyes, which burnt over white with the tell-tale signature of summoning magic. His master's thobe billowed violently and his veins pushed hard against his skin. "Master, perhaps we should wait. We're out in the open. Any noble could see!" Zek continued, the sun-hot fires in his eyes now mirrored on the ruined mansion's apex. A few heads turned, but, for all their knowledge it was just another debasing by the Lorfeigns. A few of the curious stopped to watch, though, wondering what new disgrace might be in store. From the tip of a collapsed minaret burst a massive, black fist. Then another, and another, till the six-armed great ape was free. Or something like a great ape, only three times the size and with a mug that'd melt iron. It roared, a primal rage born from a forced, magical servitude and from the burning heart of its caller. Zek welcomed the drain. This demon lived off anger and hate, drew it until its caller died or dismissed it. In the past Zek could never keep it out long, but when it tore a noble in a green thobe in half, the dark satisfaction inside rocketing, he knew this might last long, ferocious hours. Zek moved under the broken outer wall of his mansion, folded over like a giant stone tent, and whispered, "Go, Rig Tvash. Go till we get sick of screams."
Lectus 08-25-05, 10:22 AM	Ashlar strode humbly through the walk of summoners, covered in a pale blue cloak, his hands folded before him in the typical mode of contemplation. His skin was greyish, with the fierce countenance of the beast just beginning to touch his face. It wasn't an uncommon sight in Cliffside in those days, which was one of the reasons Ashlar decided to fast before making the trip. Hungry vampires gave off a strange mixture of foreboding and non-threatening vibrations. And they usually made unsatisfactory, if not dangerous, victims. Soon, Ashlar found himself at the old, run-down gates of Al'Zareef manor. The place was small in perimeter, but made up for that in the impressive height of it's walls and spires, which, since the family's decline, had begun to crumble. All at once, the young vampire was startled by what seemed to been a collapse of one of the manor's minaret. A large demon emerged from the wreckage, and made it's way quickly into the streets. That it barely gave a glance to the vampires around it made it apparent that it had a mission. Very typical of bound, demonic servants. Lorfeign wasn't known for binding demonic servants, certainly not of the calibur of the simian monster whos summoning he had just witnessed. Apparently the Al'Zareef family wasn't all gone. "Well then," Ashlar murmured softly to himself, "So the spirits weren't confused afterall." The vampire steeled himself for what might be a tense encounter, and then entered the ruined manor of Al'Zareef.
Dragna the Claw 08-26-05, 06:26 PM	"Did you see that?" Brak pointed to the back of a stranger as he slipped into the Al'Zareef ruins. His master gave a jerky nod, busy maintaining the chains that kept Rig Tvash bound. Zek was a vampire out for vendetta and his fury burned deep, but not even that intense hatred properly sated the demon. This creature hungered for a level beyond mortal capabilities to feel, rage akin to the seismic birth of planets. His control was already slipping and if Rig broke loose he'd seek one final murder, that of his caller, before returning home. Zek was a fool to bring such a mighty creature for such a simple message, his contempt for the new Cliffside overtaking good judgement, yet his goal was met. The surviving crowd understood that one last summoner still lived and the rumor would spread like plague. He glanced at Brak and grunted, "Follow." The imp flew after this stranger in the ruins, hoping for his master's sake it was a survivor of the Al'Zareefs, but being born and raised in Hell his expectations tilted toward the pessimistic side. It was probably a Lorfeign come to **** on the ashes.
Dragna the Claw 09-06-05, 02:12 PM	Soziel adjusted the velvet sleeves of his hunter green tunic, pressed down any lingering wrinkles in his black leather breaches and stepped through the towering double doors leading into House Lorfeign's audience chamber. They were crafted from solid bronze and almost a foot thick, heavy even for the prince, whose muscles were corded steel after seeing so many campaigns. The relief was particularly beautiful, a horned vampire far larger than any other figure in the depiction with thousands under his heel in a great mountain of dead. Soziel would have complimented the artist, never having noticed till now how each corpse's face was perfectly rendered in an expression of anguish. It was quite something entering through this end, the end of the accused. The room could fit several military divisions or host a grand ball, which it had done both many times over, but tonight it was empty save four shadow-masked figures on thrones attached to an elevated dais of black marble with copper veins. The white stone of the walls were carved with skull motifs and hellscapes. Evenly spaced banners representing branches of House Lorfeign stirred slightly with the air let in by the open doors. Among the banners hung a golden strip of fabric the length of two carriages of a ram's head with bleeding eyes, Soziel's banner and that of the Lorfeign's army. An attendant stepped out of the shadows, cloaked in deep indigo and carrying a black staff. His face was covered in a tight, black leather mask, encompassing all but his mouth. It would have troubled any creature that needed to breathe. The attendant struck his staff three time on the black marble floor, "Prince Soziel Lorfeign, Third Heir of House Lorfeign, First General of the Lorfeign Armies, you are here by accused of the crime of warmongering." Soziel grinned, provoking Ameroza, sire of House Lorfeign, to leap up. He looked remarkably like Soziel, but older, with a long stretch of beard and hair down to his mid-thigh. His robes were the deepest black fabric could mimic, though somehow the old vampire's eyes were darker, "Fool of a son! You've broke the Covenant. Destroyed the seventh house! If Lithna does not punish us, surely House Dir and her allies will." The prince bowed, "Milord, I did what was necessary." Ameroza opened his palm and a violet bolt shot from it, aimed for Soziel's rising head. The prince had only enough time to gasp, but the brilliant missile was deflected at the last moment before impact by a shield of concentrated air. "I did not suffer birth and one hundred years of grooming for nothing," purred a voice from the shadows of the second throne. The darkness surrounding Lady Ismair spilt from a place not even vampiric eyes could pierce, though she peeled it back enough to reveal the most beautiful face he'd ever seen in all his wars and travels. Succubi were darkly alluring, especially royal succubi from which Ismair was a queen. Her face pained him in its perfection, creamy skin and soft, black lips and vibrant purple eyes. She lit a barely-controllable lust in Soziel, though he'd had practice containing the beast. Ameroza would kill him if he ever touched his wife, and more so Ismair would snag him for all her dark intrigues. Even still, it was all almost worth it. "My Lord Ameroza, I beseech you to take pity on our son, foolhardy though he is." Ameroza growled, conjuring up a second bolt, though letting the energy smolder in his fist, "What say you, Kaz?" From the shadows of the third throne, Soziel heard a shifting of metal and bones. So they'd woken his eldest brother for the trial, how impressive. A nine foot tall skeleton stepped out of the dark and down to the foot of the dais, outfitted in classic Lorfeign plate from over three thousand years ago, what some said belonged to the original sire of House Lorfeign, Toteag, demigod and son of Lithna. It wrapped around his body like a great, iron fist, yellowed with age but somehow radiating a strength even Soziel's gold plate lacked. It was ancient, burdensome, and underlined the great legacy its wearer must uphold. Kaz's eyes burned red, the remnants of a soul imbued in his bleached skull, from behind his half helm and its two, black antlers. His voice was as loud and threatening as a cave in, "Cut off his arms." Soziel sneered, "I suppose that won't rend me too useless, hm mother?" Kaz groaned as he unlatched the claymore from his back, "I will exact the punishment myself." "No," the final throned figure said, stepping out to reveal herself. Naphira wore more than she had on the battlefield, now spun in orange linen and with a black veil. "Whatever his crime, it is done, and in these hard times House Lorfeign will need Soziel's strength and limbs." Kaz had a practice swing, "Then we leave him unscathed?" Naphira smiled from behind her veil, pushing Soziel into a slightly defensive stance, "Oh brother, brother, no. We scathe, but where it really hurts. We scathe his pride." Ameroza smiled, nodded, and stepped back into the darkness of his throne and to the whispered council of his wife. Kaz put back his claymore. His mother would not spare him from Naphira's judgment, which curled Soziel's hands into tight balls. "Do what you will, but I have won a great victory for House Lorfeign. Perhaps you should host a feast in my honor at this hall and not a trial, commend me and not condemn me." Naphira stepped down to Kaz and rested her head against his elbow playfully, "This trial is over, brother." She pointed to the attendant, "Bring me Lithna's Choker."
Lectus 09-06-05, 09:23 PM	As soon as Zekh crossed the threshold, he was met with a voice, from the shadows to the side of him. "I seek only an audience with his greatness," The voice said in an almost mockingly humble tone, "The Lord of Al'Zareef..." If Zek would turn to his side then, he would see the pale figure kneeling before him, whatever skin was showing seemed drained of vitality, almost given over to the beast, yet the vampire showed tremendous retraint, and didn't seem the least bit bothered by his weakened state. On the chain of his cloak was hanging the unmistakable mark of House Huma. "...To discuss the means of his vengeance." (OOC: Short, I know, but I'm going somewhere.)
Dragna the Claw 09-07-05, 08:49 AM	Zek Al'Zareef, still exhausted from the banishment of Rig Tvash, wearily crossed into his old house to find a lurker in his midsts. The stranger spoke in a tone that prickled Zek's skin and the creature's mouth seeped a sour reak of hunger. When the summoner finally noticed the crest of Huma, he reflexively took a step back, even as the creature shifted forward, "...To discuss the means of his vengeance." Zek scowled, "I am the last Al'Zareef, though I don't claim to be its Lord. That was for better men and women. I am its avenger." Brak flew down from an enduring buttress above the pair, landing hard on his master's shoulder, "So how are you going to help?"
Lectus 09-07-05, 01:17 PM	Ashlar stood surreptitiously, then rose his gleaming, yellow eyes to meet with Zek's, "We have ways, little Brak, the Humas do." "For instance, have either of you heard Zek mentally filed through the lists of demons and djinn he knew, either through summoning or study, and fell short. Brak shrugged his pudgy shoulders, "Un-who?" Ashlar turned toward the entrance to the ruin, walked over to check that nobody was listening in, and then turned to Zek, "I'm sure you're aware why this war is happening. The nine of Lithna beg to be reunited." Another look outside, and then the vampire closed the distance between himself and the summoner, "As you know this is not good for our people, but for more reasons than just this war." Ashlar lowered his voice considerably, "You see, the nine blood artifacts were the remnants of a being older than Lithna, something larger, more primal. Lithna is simply one part of a whole, the rest of which this something, the Unmother, comprises of." "You see, the details are quite obscure, thanks to the Church's deception, but the peices of 'Lithna's Nine', were separated to keep this Unmother from reemerging. Lithna enjoys the fruits of our labours, our feedings, our highest thought processes, while the Unmother wallows in a haze of bestial fury... Does this sound familiar?"
Dragna the Claw 09-07-05, 04:46 PM	The summoner frowned, “I’ve heard tell of Unmother, though djinni call her Ahzar Dakaha, simply translated The Cosmic Hunger. She is the force behind the beast within us all, the enemy of civilization, a creature beyond the hierarchies of Above and Below…” Brak chuckled in disbelief, “Beyond Hell?” Zek shrugged the imp off his shoulder and he plummeted, Brak’s wings barely catching him in time from landing on his head, “Unmother spawned Lithna, if what Huma here says is true. Something that can create gods surpasses any entity I’ve ever encountered.” Ashlar Huma only nodded, seeming to get some amount of pleasure from the explanation as Zek continued, “I didn’t know the nine blood artifacts were tied to it, though. In the beginning of the vampire nation, at the start of the Covenant, the nine original houses were each given a piece of armor from the goddess herself. Because of vampire nature, each house coveted their piece and denied any other family from using or even seeing it. Few have ever dared use them, as each artifact holds with its great power a horrible price. Most often wielders of the nine die after one usage. There was one vampire, I recall, Ver’Dir of House Dir, who wielded Lithna’s Vambrace successfully... though how is beyond me. He disappeared before I, err, before I left Cliffside.” Brak began crawling around Zek’s feet after a choice cricket, “So what blood artifact did the Al’Zareefs have?” Zek’s eyes widened, “Lithna’s Crown. We can only assume the Lorfeigns stole it.” The imp groaned, even as he rose the kicking insect to his lips, “And what happens when you start putting the blood artifacts together?” Zek turned to Ashlar, his expression like the wince before a blow, knowing whatever happened with the reunion of the blood artifacts it wasn’t good. XXXXXX Across town, Noaka Gyhenna carefully slipped a vial of nitroglycerine into her hand from a hidden pocket on the inside of her baggy, red coat sleeve, which draped a foot over her hands. She had on tight, brown shorts that strangled her inner thighs and knee-high leather boots. Wriggling in her scarlet corset, Noaka made sure to flaunt her ample cleavage, hoping distraction would serve her better than coin she didn’t have. While not exactly ugly by human standards, she lacked in a society of vampire princesses and half-demon temptresses. With the way she dressed though, few bothered looking her in the face much. She currently stood with her back to a wall in The God In the Bowl, a Cliffsidean inn famous for its information network. Four suspicious informants closed in, knives flashing, after she asked one too many questions about recent happenings. She sniffled meekly, "I just wanted to find my brother." "You found something all right, but it ain't Kristos," One of the vampires chuckled, juggling his knife like an expert. No doubt he could cut her in ways she never dreamed. She lifted a coat sleeve to her face, rubbing her nose and half hiding her smile, "But you didn't listen very well." Another of the men lunged at her, but Noaka had some experience dancing, and was able to grab a thin banister supporting the roof and spin away, "I'm Gyhenna and we should never be taken lightly." The knife expert sneered, "Yea, yea you're all pyros. Good for you." Noaka grinned, flinging the vial at her would-be attacker, "Something like that." The explosion tore through the vampire informants like an avalanche through ants, with such overkill it sent half the floor into the cellar, cracked the ceilings, shattered the surrounding tables, and dismembered at least seven bystanders. A great, billowing smoke cloud covered everything, and the inn was filled with screams, choking, and angry calls to arm. Noaka found herself underneath the fragments of a table and a woman, "Idiot. Used too much... can't waste it..." She grunted and pushed her way back into a stance as the smoke just began to clear. Before the city guard or a furious innkeeper could assail her, Noaka ran into the street, pretending to be just another panicked stranger in the growing crowd. People murmured things like revenge and summoners and Al'Zareef, all the better for Noaka, but she was no closer to finding her missing brother or that gross little imp, Brak, who she caught watching her in the shower twice. Somehow this all tied in with Brak, Noaka was certain, and when she found that plump, little demon she’d ring the answers from him or make him swallow one of her vials.
Lectus 09-08-05, 03:28 PM	"I don't know." Ashlar simply said, if only to kill the suspense. "But that's where House Huma comes in. There's chatter in the Netherworld, and much of it surrounds the events of this war. Something is kicking up old vampiric dust, in particular." Ashlar's face seemed to lose some of it's previous urgency as he began to pace about the room, "We do know that the vambrace was destroyed. This much is certain. Ezariel himself dealt with Ver'Dir, and the vambrace with him. But when that happened, something was released." Ashlar paused and regarded Brak inquisitively for a second. The irreverent imp merely stared back mockingly, bug-eyed. "To forge ahead, the remaining artifacts must be destroyed, starting with those belonging to Lorfeign, and that's why I come to you. Only I know how it can be done."
Dragna the Claw 09-08-05, 09:55 PM	The corpulent black cherub with bat wings laughed, "How do we know we can trust you? You're Huma! Everyone knows the nutjobs that came out of your sire's loins." Zek sighed, "As blunt as Brak can be, he has a point. Why do we trust you? You might very well divulge our presence to the authorities. Or maybe you're working for the Lorfeigns. It might be in my best interests to call Rig Tvash up from Hell again for your head."
Dragna the Claw 09-09-05, 12:21 AM	In House Lorfeign’s deepest dungeon, Kaz braced an iron door with his hulking frame, though it was off its hinges and pierced by a dozen, fist-sized holes. To Naphira’s surprise, her undead brother was having some trouble keeping it in place, even with his unhallowed strength. In his metallic voice, like the echoing scrape of a dozen millstones, “Lithna’s Choker has made him powerful.” Naphira only nodded, arms folded, observing in the shadows. “Yes…” Kaz grit his naked teeth, bear of lips and gums, as Soziel struck the door his hardest yet, “Was this a proper punishment? He is more dangerous now than ever.” She waved his comment aside like a gnat, “In strength, yes. In speed, yes, but he is more in our control than ever before.” A primal howl from within the cell caught Naphira off guard, its sound making her stiffen. Kaz picked up on her base, mortal reaction, “Do explain, sister.” She swallowed her apprehension and approached the door. Lifting one thin, pale wrist, Naphira smiled from under her black veil, “Get ready.” In a quick, fluid motion she produced a knife and cut a sliver down her wrist. As soon as blood touched air, Soziel howled in mad fury and threw himself against the door with all his might. The first blow knocked Kaz back a full four feet, almost allowing Soziel freedom, but the first born quickly recovered and plowed the iron door like a shield against his ravenous little brother. It took several minutes, till Naphira’s natural regeneration closed the wound, before Soziel stopped. While Naphira always assumed Kaz incapable of tiring, he slouched against the door, one hand braced against the stone wall, “Foolish. I wouldn’t advise that again.” Naphira shrugged, “Perhaps, but don’t you see? The bloodlust in him has taken over. He is the perfect beast. Lithna’s Choker is starving him, using every last ounce of blood in him to fuel this phenomenal strength and speed and of course his heightened senses. He is past pride and plotting. He’s focused only on feeding now and the great tax of the choker will require him to kill in the scores to be sated… if he can ever feel bloody satisfaction again.” “I’ve underestimated you, sister. You are as every bit cruel and intelligent as your mother,” The giant skeleton said, inclining his antlered head slightly. Naphira bowed ever so little, “Through the impending feuds he helped create with his elimination of the Al’Zareefs, Soziel will sustain his new, hollow, bloody existence.” “And when House Lorfeign eventually triumphs?” Naphira Lorfeign, half-demon, Princess of House Lorfeign, drew all shadows to her in the similar fashion of her mother, her height seeming to triple and her eyes filling with a darkness deep as the abyss, “Maybe then we’ll cut off his arms and legs, let him feed on himself till he expires.” Kaz had no objections, even as Soziel punched another hole through the door.
Lectus 09-09-05, 08:40 PM	Ashlar sighed, "I can see that you need time to consider my offer. That a matricide would question my credibility is something, but I'll let it pass, for the greater good. Think on this. I'll be back." With that said, Ashlar faded into mist. --------------------------------- The sea crashed against the bow of the in-bound Jungle Bat, spraying some residual water onto Tiber's dorsal fin as he swam along side. The journey back from Northvale had been swift, barring the routine pirate raid, whereby the inhabitants of the JB welcomed the raiders with open fangs. Unfortunately, Tiber hadn't a chance to partake in the carnage, as all of the bodies were rudely thrown overboard, drained as they were when dinner was concluded. It took only moments after the Jungle Bat was docked for Tiber to revert from shark form to humanoid, and then the seasoned sailor was climbing the docks. He was greeted by a vampiress in plain peasant garb. "Evening milady," He said with a mock bow, "How does it greet you?" "Tiber!" She gently chided, staring up and down his unclothed form, "How dare you approach a lady in such state of affairs. I shall have father flay you alive." One of the hands from on deck threw a small burlap tarp toward him, which he then used as a makeshift toga. "Did you find anything?" "No, we only know that the one with the blood sigil can tell us where it went."
Dragna the Claw 09-11-05, 12:41 PM	When Ashlar changed into mist and vanished, Brak traced a line across his neck, "You killed your mother?" Zek finally sheathed the dagger hidden under his thobe's right sleeve. It had been out and ready the entire meeting, "Apparently he knows more than I gave him credit. Times are too dangerous to blindly trust a Huma, no matter how well-informed." "Then what'll we do? One vampire and his imp can't take vendetta on an entire house, especially the Lorfeigns. And what about those blood artifacts?" The imp clumsily fluttered onto the neck of a headless statue. The summoner waved the imp to follow and walked down the ruined main hall, a long, tall corridor of broken things. Its ceiling stretched higher than a young boy's imagination and was decorated with thousands of demon and djinni paintings. Most were destroyed, but for reasons beyond explanation the depictions of the greatest archfiends and royal djinni were untouched. Perhaps they survived as testaments to the Al'Zareef artisans, but more likely they remained as mocking idolizations of creatures better left in the dark. Zek had spent hours each day staring up at the murals and waving a backyard stick, pretending to call on the tenebrous Que'Nihal or the mighty Kal'tas. In the center of the mural, now just a gaping hole of overcast sky, Ghul had stood, the Al'Zareef sire, greatest summoner that ever lived- or so a boy had believed. That boy still believed, which is why he went to Ghul now. He took a door at the end of the main hall and flew down half a dozen stairwells, digging deeper and deeper into Cliffside's roots. Finally reaching the cellars, he found what he'd expected, hundreds of bottles of bloodwine broken, shelves shattered, paintings defaced, and several rotting family guards. Zek said a quick prayer and moved into the center of the floor. He knelt and started feeling over the floor, provoking a strange look from Brak. Eventually Zek grinned victoriously. The summoner dug his nails into the earth and yanked up a dun-colored rug. Beneath it was a stone portal, about the size of a manhole cover. Brak wrinkled his nose, "The sewers?" Zek twisted the portal open, "The catacombs." The pair made their way down a ladder piercing a wide, open shadow. Two hundred feet down Zek finally touched ground, wasting no time and leaping to the left then the right then the left again to avoid pitfalls, though falling any deeper than he was right now seemed ridiculous. He felt he was in the bottom of the world, and perhaps he was, though grim flashes of a place deeper and darker still haunted him, the torture chambers of Hell. Much of his time there had been blanked out, a weak defense by his own mind, but the inescapable feelings of dread and pain never really left him long. In places like this, cold and quiet and pitch black, Zek remembered all too much. He finally came to a round, stone door twenty feet high and stopped. Brak nearly flew into his master's back, desperate to keep up and hard-pressed to stop. The summoner lifted his hand, wrist facing out, and with the nails of his other hand drew blood. Almost immediately the thin trickle of red lifted off his arm and shot to a small sigil on the door, as if drawn by magnetic force. It filled out the insignia of Al'Zareef and with several ancient groans the door began rolling back. "Stay here. Only Al'Zareefs may enter." Brak groaned, "You mean you dragged me all the way down here and I can't even-" A dark look from his master changed his tone, "Have fun." Zek crossed the threshold and immediately felt a million eyes, the strength and intensity of every member of his line since the beginning, bearing down on him, examining each cell and atom to ensure he was one of them. After a minute of feeling naked, beyond clothes but naked of skin and soul, a strange euphoria washed over him. He was home, among family, and the ancestral spirits that lingered in some form or another were pleased with his appearance. No doubt the Netherworld was as well informed as the material, more so. They knew what had befallen House Al'Zareef and Zek could almost touch the tangible relief in the air around him. He passed many coffins and catafalques, all jeweled, some painted gold, and some even solid gold. Further in the darkness and cobwebs he went, past shelves of his ancestors, until he came to a sarcophagus of solid platinum. Every jewel in the perfectly wrought shell was flawless, beyond precious and each worth a house's coffers, especially the red diamonds that shown like sanguine suns in the eye sockets of Ghul's mask. Zek fell prostrate before it, bent till his forehead hit the dirt, and prayed. Zek wasn't a necromancer and could never speak with the dead, though he yearned to hear the words and wisdoms of his sire now, but despite the fact he was deaf to Ghul's spirit he could still feel a presence. It was strong and comforting, but firm and angered too. Zek's skin prickled and his hackles rose. No doubt Ghul looked on him now. "Many-Father, it is your lone son Zek. Long have I worshipped your memory and followed in your footsteps, though I'll never summon as well as you. I need your help, Sire, to call upon a creature that can shed light on what to do next. Enemies are everywhere and I stand puzzled about who to trust and who to forsake. This creature is beyond my power alone to call, so help me Many-Father. I beg of you." When a ghost enters a mortal body, usually that body is forfeit to its will. Yet when Ghul entered Zek, it was as if they became one, and for a few moments Zek felt like a god. Through the joining of ancient past and dark present, the great summoning magics of Al'Zareef were fully unleashed. Zek, fighting the drunk of such power, felt nearly able to call up the goddess herself, yet with the overwhelming power lingered a steel-firm sense of duty. Ghul was with him, in him, and with pride Zek began the motions, his words echoing the deep, sure voice of his sire. As the ritual neared its end, the platinum sarcophagus radiated a heatless light that seared Zek's eyes and burned away every shadow. The coffin grew brighter still and a strange sound like infinite chimes echoed down the catacombs. A creature moved in the light, something able to live in such pure power and exposure. He was brilliant, but near-impossible to see beyond quick glimpses Zek caught in his peripheral vision. In a low, almost revenant voice, the summoner whispered its name, "Ezariel."
Lectus 09-11-05, 01:22 PM	Zek quickly had to take cover, as a burst of what seemed to be pure sunlight radiated from a point above the venerable master's sarcophagus. A few moments later, and the sunburst faded, leaving only the ambient glow radiating from Ezariel's angelic form. Ezariel wore a robe of pure white, the highest color granted in the order he'd founded, the Inquisition. "Come out, foul creature." Ezariel uttered, his voice reverberating from wall to wall. Zek unwrapped his head scarf and wound it around his eyes, but the light was still too intense. On his hands and knees, the vampire crawled forth. He couldn't help thinking how lucky Brak was not to have come, as the light would have flayed him on the spot, "I seek your wisdom, Sunborn." "Say your words, small monster. Then you will hear mine." "I seek answers. Why was House Al'Zareef destroyed? What does the Unmother and the blood artifacts have to do with it? Who can I trust to help me avenge my family and save Cliffside from the bloodlust of the Lorfeigns?" Zek's tone was bold, but his heart fluttered. He felt light-headed in the presence of the angel, like a human without enough air. "Now you will hear your answers, Zek of House Al'Zareef." The Angel drifted forward, and stopped just a few feet from the quivering vampire, "A boiling current runs through the souls of your people now. With the destruction of the foul trinkets found on the one called Ver'Dir, the vampire race is becoming hungrier and hungrier. Hungrier for what? For whatever it is that they desired in the first place. This is why Al'Zareef was destroyed. Lorfeigns desire power. I need not tell you why it was the Al'Zareefs. They were the most vulnerable." "As for who you can trust to seek vengeance, trust me. If it is the death of the Lorfeigns that you seek, do nothing. Events have been set into motion that will ensure the death of every vampire in Cliffside. Interfere, meddle with destiny, and the results will be less certain. This I have observed." Ezariel floated upward then, filling the catacombs almost to the roof with light. "I have answered your questions, and now I must go. Do not call me again." And with one last burst of light, Ezariel was gone, leaving Zek in the darkness. (OOC: Now would be a perfect time for anyone who wishes to join to do so. The plot is just getting started. Don't worry too much about filling us in on your char's background.)
Lectus 09-12-05, 04:23 PM	Cecilia Callalas gave a friendly smile to the human crewmen aboard the Jungle Bat. With the lack of vampiric manpower these days, it made more and more sense to put their human cattle to work. All told, even though they were psionically impaired, (making it a simple matter to monitor their thoughts) they were actually fast learners. It never ceased to surprise Cecilia to see them performing tasks that had, at times, confounded the vampire workers. As well, they could be made to work efficiently during the daytime, making it unneccesary for vampire officers to brave the sunlight. The change in policy helped vampire nobles, while impovershing commoners, driving them to steal their food. About time we had a good culling Cecilia mused as she descended the lower decks. Any later, and we might've had rebellion on our hands. The lower deck was pitch black, as might've been expected of a vampire vessel. The human cattle were forbidden from entering, and for more reasons than one. On the other side of the room, the last remaining bearer of Lithna's sigil lay chained to the wall, grey with a tinge of the gangrel emergent in his features. By the time he noticed her, she was already wearing her sad, sympathetic smile. "Poor Lectus," She murmured, closing the distance, "Won't he have his lunch tonight?" ------------------------------------- A moment later and she was kneeling beside him, too close, much too close. She'd just fed tonight, he could tell, the blood in her jugular swelled. How could he do naught but tear into it? Cecilia seemed to sense his desperation, and leaned closer, "She was young, a gajiana, only a child." The vampiress whispered, "So pale, and sweet. Won't you have a taste?" It'd been days now since they'd kept him chained there on the wall, with barely enough bread to satisfy his hunger and bloodwine to slake his thirst. The blood mage's was becoming hungry. It would only be a matter of time before their offers of the sweet blood of nobility succeeded in betraying the knowledge that he fought so furiuosly to contain. To share blood with that demoness meant to betray the location of the blood sigil. "No?" She gazed softly into his gleaming eyes, "I thought children were your favorite? Perhaps I was misinformed. No matter." Cecilia smoothed out her skirts as she rose to leave, "I'll be back again tommorow with your lunch, love. Til then."
Dragna the Claw 09-12-05, 08:38 PM	Zek finished packing the few meager trinkets he'd collected from his house: a bronze plaque of Ghul, a handful of gold jewelry, silk thobes and head-scarves from his cousin's closet, two surviving bottles of bloodwine and an ivory comb once belonging to his mother. He took special care putting away the first and last item, the rest taken out of necessity. Twenty pounds maximum he lugged down the ruined hallways and over broken-down doors, yet countless memories forced him into a near-crawl. That and overwhelming regret, the knowledge his personal vendetta had failed, which weighed so heavily on him it threatened to sink whatever ship bore him away from Cliffside. A doomed Cliffside, Ezariel had prophecized. The death of every vampire in the city was something Zek had wrestled hard with since the long hours after his meeting with the archangel. There was a time he'd have jumped at the chance to save vampiredom. He was younger then, hungrier, and full of a misplaced confidence in his novice skills. He'd cheated the training, read the names and the motions for higher demons than he could manage, and at the very least looked a fool to his peers and at the very most cost lives. Yet now, with the knowledge of this impending doom, clues leading to its possible cause, and perhaps enough power to make a difference, Zek chose to do nothing. He left the manor without looking back, moving down the nearest street under a heavy cloak in the early morning. "Let them rot. **** the houses. This new Cliffside only shames the legacy of its sires," Brak grumbled along every back alley and side street to the docks, clinging like guilt to Zek's shoulder. Even the imp couldn't bullstiit that well and he looked about as glum as Zek when the salt air and gull cries heralded their arrival. Zek didn't care which boat he left on, picking the first one he saw. He walked up quickly, jingling the gold in one pocket and keeping deathly still his dagger in the other. A few crew were unloading some crates. One turned after tossing a heavy box, "What do you want?" "I'd like to buy passage onto the," Zek squinted, "Jungle Bat." The man laughed, but didn't openly refuse, only jerked his head toward the gangplank. Zek nodded and stepped aboard, looking for the captain or perhaps the owner if he was lucky.
Lectus 09-13-05, 08:45 PM	Tiber had just returned from his foray into Cliffside, when he noticed a newcomer boarding the Jungle Bat "Just a minute," Tiber ran to intercept the new arrival, "You're looking for passage on my ship? Let's get a few things straight, the cost of my hospitality is steep. Five hundred blood for a one-way trip to wherever we end up. If you can't pay, you'll work. We don't take tramps on the Jungle bat. What's your name?"
Dragna the Claw 09-14-05, 01:01 PM	Brak's bulbous head sprung from under the summoner's cloak folds, "Five hundred blood! One way? The Church of Lithna couldn't afford that price." Zek roughly readjusted his cloak, covering Brak back up, "My name is David and my imp is called-" "Belial," Brak chuckled. Zek sighed, "We accept your terms. I have some gold you can take now and the rest we can work off." "You can work off," Brak's muted voice snarled from under the cloak. The summoner fished around his pouch and relinquished his small golden cache, a few rings, a pendant, and several vintage coins from now-forgotten vampiric outposts.
Lectus 09-15-05, 12:07 PM	"Alright," Tiber said in a very business-like fashion, "That'll cover the daylight shift at least, so you won't work in the sun." "Oh," The vampire turned around suddenly, "You can bunk in the cabins, but stay out of the lower decks. If I see anyone going in or coming out of there, I leave them out to dry." Tiber began giving orders to his crew to prepare for disembarkment. The ship would sail for Tirbuk within the hour.
Dragna the Claw 09-15-05, 07:15 PM	Zek hardly needed to unpack. He removed the bottles of bloodwine and tossed his bag onto the floor. Taking a seat on the edge of his cot, he popped a cork and downed a long swig. Brak hopped next to his master, “Oh, don’t tell me you’re getting drunk.” The vampire shook his head and took another long drink, “No.” The imp chuckled nervously, stomping on the mattress, “Might as well sleep on iron.” Zek didn’t respond, having half emptied the bottle. Brak coughed, “What’s with that guy Tiber, huh? Why can’t we go below deck?” The imp wasn’t expecting an answer, “I bet there’s a full harem down there. You know, like in the old days. Filled with all sorts of women, elves and humans so delicate and beautiful it’d burn a man’s eyes out.” Zek opened the second bottle and shed his heavy cloak. Brak grinned, “An imp’s eyes, too.” The twisted anti-cherub slipped into the shadows and out of the room.
Lectus 09-16-05, 10:54 AM	At first Brak's quest was hard going. Daylight above ensured that there would be plenty of vampiric traffic in the cabin and levels below deck. Brak snuck behind a load-bearing beam, and stole a peek at the door leading to the lower deck. A few vampires entered, only to come out moments later. "That was quick. Selfish lechers..." The damned quitos were probably hogging the harem to themselves, and they had the nerve to deny a humble little demonite of some action. Poor Brak. Couldn't an imp get some once in a while? Well, it was settled, he was determined to get into that door. But how? Then he hit on it. His master knew a few cold spells. He could just summon up a bit of a cold aura around his chubby little body, an old trick for avoiding vampiric infravision. Then, if he was quiet enough, he might just be able to sneak in. Brak did just that, and then hovered quietly over to the door. When he was sure nobody was looking, he opened the portal just a crack, squirmed into the space, and then shut it. "Alright ladies," He said, rubbing his greasy little claws together, "get ready for the Brakster." Heedless now of drawing any attention from the cabin, Brak descended to the ground and began proceeding on foot. 'A little dark for a harem, but whatever gets those vampies going. He thought to himself as he navigated through the little maze of crates. Finally, he hit paydirt. Brak could make out a figure chained to the wall. 'Hmmm, a little kinky, but I'm game.' Brak conjured up a pair of shaded glasses to prepare himself for the overwhelming sight of the naked harem girl, slipped them on, and strutted over to her. Cept, as he got closer, he realised that it wasn't a her. And what a non-her, it was that Lectus guy that nearly got his master killed in their last outing. "Oh." He muttered, with utter disappointment saturating every syllable he spoke, "It's just you."
Dragna the Claw 09-16-05, 04:40 PM	Noaka slipped into The Magus unnoticed, passing behind a group of hirsute mercenaries come back from a skirmish. From their gutteral laughing, bloodied weapons, and fists full of treasure, their side had won. Two were enormous, standing well near seven feet, perhaps mixed with ogre blood, while the other three were pureblood, allbeit ugly, vampires. All lacked family crests or house indications, marking their low station, yet each seemed overly content with their simple life as muscle for the more complicated Cliffsidean nobility. Noaka half agreed with their stance, never much having a taste for politics. Yet she'd come from a recognized house and was often forced to mingle with medium and upper scale aristocrats. It was tedious, frustrating, and often demeaning. Her father had neither the know-how, charm, or riches to bed a demoness. Noaka's mother was a human scullery maid, raped on a whim, and Noaka was made never to forget it. The patrons of The Magus were a mixed lot, so much so as to allow the raucous mercenaries a table and quick service. Noaka broke off from their boasting and sat at the bar. She'd let her red hair down since the incident at The God in the Bowl, hoping to throw off recognition, and undone another notch in her corsette to allow almost everything to bulge from her chest. Noaka wanted no questions and looks aimed from the neck down. She quickly got one from the barkeep, gaunt even for a vampire, with unusually large lips, "What'll it be, miss?" "Bloodwine. A deep glass," She muttered, placing two silver onto the counter. The man took the coins, "Bloodwine is one blood." Noaka's voice snapped like a lash, "What! That's upsurd. No inn is charging that." He shrugged, smiling slightly with his swollen, nightcrawler lips, "These are hard times in Cliffside. The war is driving prices up. Heard they're even fighting in inns. The God in the Bowl was destroyed lastnight and I'm not taking any chances. One blood or the door." Her face contorted angrily, then just as quickly fell into perfect serenity, "Couldn't you make one exception for a girl?" He chuckled, "Blood, miss." Noaka smiled, shrugging just enough to force a glimse of her nipple out of the corset, "Miss Noaka." He licked his lips, "Perhaps a one whole blood is a bit much. I could get Borlis to take over and we could discuss prices." She sat up, the nipple disapearing, and shook most of her red hair over her face to hide the plainess, "Yes, after a drink. I am parched." The barkeep nodded, turning to the shelf and grabbing a glass and bottle. A cloaked figure sitting next to her laughed softly, "Very entertaining, Miss Noaka. Is that Noaka Gyhenna?" She turned and leaned in to get a better look at the man's face, "It is. And you are?" The stranger pulled back his hood. He was a human, that she could tell immediately, too much color in the cheeks and something strange in the way sweat and light played off his face. Somehow she could see a part of herself in his average features, mostly in the imperfections. She almost turned away, even considered knocking him off his stool, but a small scar on the side of his cheek stopped her. It was an L brand, the mark of a slave of House Lorfeign. Noaka folded her arms under her breasts, "I'm surprised your masters give you such free reign of the city." He grimaced, "They don't usually. My name is Daal. I am personal attendant to Prince Soziel Lorfeign." The barkeep slid the bloodwine over the counter to Noaka, his fingers reaching a little too far and brushing against her chest. "Your wine, Miss Noaka." She inclined her head, "Much thanks. Give me a few minutes and I'll gladly discuss, what was it, prices?" He nodded hungrily and went back to work, leaving her and Daal in peace once more, "Most certainly." Once he was far enough away and she'd drunk about half the deep glass, she glanced sideways at Daal, "He must think me quite easy, to give myself over for a discounted glass of bloodwine." Daal, a human trained by vampires, held his tongue, forsaking his thoughts and instead saying, "As the lady pleases." She grinned, "Oh it will please me, once I slip a grenade in his pants." The human was quiet a moment, making her think he might actually warn the barkeep. Finally he reached into his cloak and removed three blood, "For you, Miss Noaka. Consider it a peace offering on behalf of the Lorfeigns." Noaka snatched the money as quickly as he gave it and flung it all back in his face, one coin catching him in the eye. "How dare you!" A few heads turned, including the barkeep's. Noaka didn't care, "Such insolence!" Daal shook his head frantically, "No, mistress. No! I didn't mean anything by it. I simply wished to buy you a drink. In good spirits." She grimaced, removing a vial from her longcoat, "I hope you know a few good spirits, Daal, because you're going to be one." "Wait! You were at The God in the Bowl!" Someone shouted from across the room. Noaka froze, carefully letting her sleeve consume the vial once more. She turned, "Excuse me?" Someone else stood up, "Yea! It was you. Surrounded by four guys, right before the explosion." The barkeep snatched the half-drunk bloodwine, "Get out of here!" Noaka turned to face the fat-lipped man, "No, it's not true. Just a mistake." "Get out!" A patron roared, one of the ogrish mercenaries she'd come in behind. Soon the whole inn was yelling and chiding her, until she could take no more and stormed out. Her face was brighter than her hair. How horribly embarassing. Someone had thrown soup-soggy bread onto her coat and another man a full beer. Had she not been identified, Noaka would have happily thrown another ten vials into their midst, but reason stayed her hand. She couldn't believe it when Daal chased after her, a hand over his left eye, "Miss Noaka, wait! Wait!" Noaka turned on her heels just as Daal caught up, snagging him by the throat and squeezing tightly. "I'm going to kill you, Lorfeign or no Lorfeign." Choking between words, "Miss Noaka, please! I followed to ask your help." Lifting him off the ground and pulling him close to her face, she sneered, "Oh, on whose behest?" "Prince Soziel's." She held him suspended a few more seconds before tossing him to the ground. As he fell, something wrapped in burlap fell from his grasp. He quickly recovered and scrambled after it. Only when it was safely cradled like a babe in his arms did he look up, one eye bloodshot and swollen, "My Prince can offer you all Cliffside." Noaka readjusted her coat, "Go on..."
Lectus 09-18-05, 01:50 PM	It took a few moments for Lectus' senses to adjust from sleep, but when they did, it happened at the same moment that Brak accosted him. At first his expression hinted at something resembling surprise, but was quickly overcome with indifference. "Oh," He heard him mutter, "It's just you." "Why so disappointed, Brak?" Lectus muttered, his voice husky from hunger, "Just what did you expect to find in the brig of a vampire's ship?" "Nevermind that..." Brak said, twisting his mouth as though he tasted something sour. "What are you doing down here..." He sniffed the air, "And what's that SMELL?" "Hungry vampire hormones," Lectus said, deflecting the latter, answering the questions with inverse order, "And I'm a fugitive from the Church. You're on Calalas' ship. Did they not teach you arithmetic at perverted imp school?" "HAH," Imp laughed hollowly, "Priceless. Anyway, if you're hungry, I guess that means I'm outta here. Cya." And with that, the imp left Lectus in silence, to wonder about this strange, chance encounter.
Dragna the Claw 09-19-05, 07:12 PM	"Who!?!" Zek choked, finishing the third bottle of bloodwine he found miraculously hidden under his bunk. "Lectus," Brak confirmed, "You know, that bloody wizard guy. Always souring parties. Something of a downer. Come on, you remember." The summoner nodded quickly, though from his drunken state it seemed his head was thrice too heavy for his neck, and he oggled like a poorly-strung puppet, "Yes, yes. Lectus. That was ages ago, when Al'Zareef was intact. Al'Zareef..." The imp rolled his eyes as Zek began remisicing in a slow and laborous fashion one hundred different memories pertaining to his family and their Cliffsidean manor. When Brak could take no more, he flew across the room and tackles Zek's drooping face, "Enough!" The vampire nodded again, "I think I'll have words with him." Brak laughed, "What? You must be ****-faced. You can't go down there. I barely managed it and I'm a fraction of your size. Don't be stupid... how bout you pass out?" Zek chuckled, "I'm going to see him." The summoner left the room quicker than Brak could intercept him, half way down the hall and to the stairs before the imp finally clasped his shoulder, "No! No!" "Yes!" Zek yelled, "Yes!" He closed the gap on the final door, unusually unguarded, and entered quickly. It took Brak's full strength to close the door back up, so no straggling guard would see it ajar, and then he took flight furiously after his master. Zek ran without abandon, laughing and running into a few crats along the way. Eventually he came to the chained blood mage and stopped a few feet from his reach, "Lectussss...." He hissed.
Lectus 09-19-05, 08:22 PM	(OOC: Thanks to dragna for the zek bits) "Well," Lectus looked up to Zek, reclaiming bit by bit of lucidity as the stream of visitors roused him from his blood haze. "I should have expected that you wouldn't be far behind Brak. Just how is it that you two have returned to the realm of the living?" Zek grinned, if only because of the alcohol, "That, my friend Lectus, is a long story. Suffice to say we're back." "Strange that you're still with Brak," Lectus crossed his chained arms as he leaned against the wall, "Rumour had it that you were murdered by him.Then again, I should know better than to give credence to such tavern talk." Zek grinned, the liquor heavy on his breath, "Leave it to you to bring up bad blood. What's past is past. I'm of a mind for the future, which is why I'm leaving Cliffside." Lectus cringed slightly at the scent of bloodwine, "Always were, as I remember it." Lectus smirked humorlessly, "So how is it that this self-imposed exile that finds you aboard the Jungle Bat?" "Oh, you know... a power-hungry vampire prince, a prophecy from the archangel Ezariel... Cliffside and all its citizens are, how do I put this... ****ed, and I'm trying to preserve what's left of the Al'Zareef." He nodded cooly, unmoved by the summoner's melodramatics, "And this is news?" "For the amount of times you saved vampiredom, perhaps not. But I have it on good authority this is the end of Cliffside. I'm only mildly saddened, though. It's not like it used to be, eh Lectus?" "Indeed," He replied, rattling his chains a bit, "No convocation to magically appear and get me out of these chains... Unless you would do the honors." "Heh, and what reason would I have for that? To save a Cliffside that nere deserves it? Or perhaps to save a fallen disciple of Lithna that clings to life like a human? I've been dead before, Lectus. It's rather liberating." "Always about what would be best for the scion of House Al'Zareef." The smirk left Lectus' face in an instant, "Very well, I'll give you a reason along those lines. If you choose to leave Cliffside to it's fate, your soul, and the souls of your ancestors, will be forever at the mercy of the Lorfeigns." Zek scoffed, "What makes you an expert of spirits and the afterlife? For all I know the Al'Zareefs triumph eternal against that Lorfeign scum. Scum! You hear me, utter filth!" "Keep your voice down," Lectus muttered through his teeth, "You need only break a link from the chain. a simple cantrip could do it..." The blood mage was becoming desperate, and running out of patience. Zek inclined his head, "Well, you make a good argument. It is indeed within even Brak's power to free you. But tell me, what will you do when you're free?" Brak landed on Zek's shoulder, curling his fists in frustration at not being able to reach his master in time. Surely the vampire shamed himself with his foolery, "By all the archdemons…" "The only thing I can do to ensure that a certain secret remains buried. If I only expose myself to the sunlight in the state that I'm in, and I'll be immolated." Zek shook his head violently, "No, no. No conflagaration for Lectus. Not yet. Cliffside needs saving and there's time yet to save it. Ugh," Zek punched the boards next to Lectus' ribs, "I can't say it sits well with me, leaving Cliffside to doom. Even a capital without Al'Zareefs is still a vampire capital... Make a pact with me, blood mage. A blood pact. I'll free you. Better yet, I'll even feed you. In return come back to the city with me. Help me save it from Ezariel's blasted prediction. I'd almost rather see a Lorfeign in rule than the end of vampires' beacon of civilization. What say you?" A few moments later, before Lectus could answer, Zek demanded, "Speak!" "I can only do so much." Lectus' voice was almost mournful in it's tone, "This situation is beyond my power, far beyond vampire's. Lorfeign will become a king, but I will prevent him from becoming a god." Zek turned his head away, angrily, almost shamefully, "If that is all I can muster from you, so be it." He lifted his hand and invoked the power of death cold, deeper than the summits of the Rutoks, far darker than the shadows of the abyss, an arcane cold that could chill lava brittle and change the vigor of the most devote humans into a frigid, hollow fear. Lectus' bonds broke away in the summoner's grasp. "I could easily acquire you a human meal, with the way these Calalas keep slaves about." Lectus's wrists shook with his newfound freedom, still giddy from his blood shortage, "What will you do when I'm gone?" Zek sneered, "Gone? I plan to follow you like a shadow, till your debt is paid, and this wretched Cliffside is safe." "You're just as whimsical as I remember you." Lectus wasn't amused, "Very well. Do you know where this ship is going?" "Tirbuk," Brak answered, far from pleased by this drunken show from his master. "Fine then." Lectus resigned his notion of consigning himself to the sun, at least for the moment, "You may provide me with blood... And just how do you intend to do that?" Brak laughed loudly as Zek flew like a night wind out of the ship's bowels and into the shaded halls where the human guards roamed.
Dragna the Claw 09-22-05, 02:26 PM	Galen’Dir yanked his knee up, catching a low-lunging ghoul in the face. He grabbed its neck and stabbed his left punching dagger under the creature’s chin. The blade shot through its soft palate and stirred its black brains. The ghoul slumped in his arms and he tossed it aside. No time to rest. Two zombies rushed from his either side of him, yellow jaws gnashing, dead hands reaching. He dropped to one knee, extended both arms, and impaled either monster in the gut. Calling on his great strength, he lifted both husks off the ground and slammed them together in a wet thud. Before either creature could recover, he dumped them onto the blood-swamped street and decapitated them with two deft chops. Their heads rolled even as he stood and felt the burning rake of a vamgrim. He spun and tried catching the undead vampire in the face, but only cut the edge of its black hood. Galen turned again and again, working a dervish style, each swipe cutting deeper into the cloak, the flesh, and eventually the bone. When he pulled back from his attack, the soul-feeder was in pieces. He’d not seen one living vampire during the entire fight, besides his three hundred family members who worked furiously but with great skill in dispatching the undead. House Lorfeign underestimated the Dir bloodline greatly if they thought only to send these monsters. However, it wasn’t like the Lorfeigns to leave things to chance. The strategists at House Dir had expected to see the brunt of the Lorfeigns’ army, not their lone vanguard. Dir spies and assassins scouted a twenty block radius twice and still found no sign of further vampiric forces. “What a waste of troops,” Galen’Dir remarked, engaging a group of seven armed skeletons. Before he could finish the fight, a shriek of such pain and violence forced him to turn back, despite the rushing skeleton with its sword bared. Galen easily sidestepped and the skeleton stumbled off balance. The vampire stomped on the back of its neck, killing it. Galen barely noticed, too busy gaping as two of his cousins were torn in half not thirty yards ahead. Amidst the crowded streets where Dir fought undead, in front of a half-ruined wine shop, Soziel Lorfeign broke a Dir in half and ravenously drank the blood and ichors that spilled from the torso. Most disturbing off all was how the blood seemed to stream into his mouth, all of it, leaving not one fleck on the street or on his naked chest. It must be magic from that strange choker he wore, which pulsed furiously as the blood poured down Soziel’s throat. Galen’Dir choked down his apprehension. His courage had been tempered in a thousand battles, fighting saris crusaders and ancient red dragons, yet the sight of a vampire devouring a vampire seemed… demonic. Three more Dir fell even as Galen rushed through the fighting crowds to Soziel Lorfeign, or what had been Soziel. Galen’Dir had the displeasure of meeting the prince once at a gala in honor of his mother, Queen Ismair Lorfeign, on her seven hundredth birthday. The prince was arrogant to the extreme, even for a vampire, and often struck or berated his servants. He drank more blood than most others at the party and seemed to always be licking his lips. This was not that prince now, who took a vampire by the face and literally tore the front of the poor bastard’s skull out. This was a machine, an engine fueled by bloodlust. Galen’Dir entered his dervish spin even as Soziel turned, choker pulsing, and charged.
Lectus 09-23-05, 01:27 PM	The rest of the voyage, went smoothly. Thankfully, Lectus' visits from Cecilia were halted while they were assail, so he could find a spare set of manacles to wear in case they came in. Zek held up his part of the bargain, sneaking human cattle into the lower decks so that he could drink. It was doubtful the Calalas' would notice their absence. All humans looked the same to them. As soon as the ship disembarked, the travelling party left the ship, with Lectus in tow, Zek and Brak following not far behind. (OOC: I'll have more to write once I get something to eat.)
Dragna the Claw 09-23-05, 01:55 PM	Zek and Brak defined stealth as they slipped off the boat after Lectus. Vampires had a knack for moving quietly and imps, well, could only be quiet when they had something in their mouth. Even with a fat cigar, Brak hummed lightly to himself. Passing into Tirbuk was a very different experience than moving into Cliffside. For one, the city notably smaller and less populated. Any families here were moderate at best in the way of power, though many Tirbuki merchants-princes frequented Cliffsidean affairs. Besides the encroachment of the jungle fauna, Zek picked up immediately on the drastic change in architecture, away from the gothic spires of the capital and much more subdued, sun-faded and washed out homes along narrow streets and half-dry canals. Gondolas, longboats, and small rafts riddled these waterways and on land dozens of odd stands and shops spilled over their hovels and into the roads. Then there was the heat, sticky and unrelenting, starkly different from the cool breezes off the mountains surrounding Cliffside. Tirbuk was built on the ruins of an abandoned temple-city of the ssslik, a race of lizardmen and staunch enemies of the vampire. Under the relatively new façade vampires draped over Tirbuk, these stucco lofts and wood lodges, notable pieces of intricately-carved temple stone and ancient gargoyle relief remained. It lent the place a certain mystery and it was said many of the deepest catacombs beneath Tirbuk were still unexplored. During daylight hours vampires used the shallowest tunnels to move about, but further down most didn’t tread. Something Zek picked up eavesdropping on the casual conversation between a priest and another woman was the sewer system. What acted as gutters for the intolerable rainy season in the modern day, ironically, once trafficked large flows of blood from the hundreds of temple altars back when ssslik made human sacrifices to their greedy goddess. The temples had since been converted to Lithna, yet even the Church had trouble properly filling these blood-channels. It was a testament to the ancient slaughter of the ssslik’s ancestors, Zek thought, before their race shifted into neutrality. An old goblin, too haggard and rank to even think feeding off, stood on the corner rattling a rusty, iron bell. On his threadbare tunic, baring a large red D on the chest and made for someone of human size, he’d painted in dried blood or some red berry a large number three. “Prepare! Prepare!” A few vampires turned and rolled their eyes, one man sighing, “This filth’s on every street of every city these days. I was in Tazoon not two weeks ago and heard four of these doomsayers ranting about Lithna knows what. Some end of the world babble.” The goblin raised his chin, pointed nose high, and wailed, “Third coming is upon us! Lord of Sky and Flame returning. Bad news to all his enemies.” Zek kept his head down while walking by, though Brak couldn’t get enough of this little creature. Flicking the remnants of his stogie into the street, he fluttered off his master’s shoulder before Zek could say anything to stop him. The imp dodged a few vampires in the passing crowd and landed in front of the goblin, “Whose coming?” The goblin looked down, strange for his kind to ever have to do when speaking, and whispered, “Dominus Skyblinder.” Brak fell on to ground laughing, hugging his sides and slapping his tail on the stone, “Oh stop! Stop! The Great Red Dragon? He’s been dead for YEARS. I remember half the known world put him in his place, maybe the only time vampires were the good guys.” The goblin scowled, “Say what imp want, but third coming here! Dominus knew how to bind cloak-head demons, much greater than imps.” Brak growled, standing up and kicking the goblin in the shin. The blow was meager, even to a goblin, “Yea, keep talking buddy. We know all about Dominus in Hell. Yea he stirred things up in his day, but I know for a fact he’s dead.” Brak sneered, “I know.” The goblin rang his bell right in Brak’s face, the ancient iron repelling the imp like a blow to the face. “Go, go, go! Jasper old servant to Great Red. Jasper will remember imp’s face and imp’s words. Pray to your cloak-heads Jasper never see you again!” Brak began the initial movements for an ice spell, but Zek caught him by the wings and dragged him down the street kicking and cursing. “We have more important matters,” Zek scolded as Lectus and the Calalas children turned a corner.
Lectus 09-24-05, 11:50 AM	The ancient library of the Humas seemed to stretch for miles in each direction underneath the cavernous expanses of Cliffside's underbelly. There, Ashlar was seeking a single tome, one entry into the journal of his deceased sire's that would allow him clarity. It was certain that Al'Zareef had departed Cliffside, quite unexpectedly. Ashlar thought him foolish enough to actually carry out his crusade, but someone else must've gotten to him, someone that the brash summoner took seriously. Must have been a rare breed of someone to pull off such a feat. No matter, things would proceed as planned, just not as quickly. So long as house Calalas was on page with house Huma, everything would proceed as planned, and the blood sigil would soon be in his possession. Ashlar... The hissing voice filled his ears, heating the blood and tickling the nerves at the back of his neck. He knew then where he had to look...
Dragna the Claw 09-24-05, 12:23 PM	“Retreat!” Galen cried as Soziel’s blurred fist struck him full in the chest and sent him sprawling a full city block. He landed through the stone wall of a church, which would have shattered lesser vampires. Galen stirred in the rubble, dazed, feeling around the fist-sized hole through his chainmail. If it hadn’t been enchanted, there’d be a gaping hole in his chest right now. House Dir had taken heavy losses, perhaps a fourth of their strength thanks largely in part to the killing machine Soziel Lorfeign, who looked emaciated but had easily drained thirty-one vampires at Galen’Dir’s last count. Many of them had been close to Galen, including his nephew Das’Dir and even his sister Mish’Dir’a. Though he’d only fought Soziel for ten minutes at the most, it felt a lifetime, constantly on the defensive, never once landing a blow against the blood-crazed berserker. His punching daggers were broken off, half the bones in his body struggled to regenerate, and it took all his mental fortitude just to stay conscious. Through some miracle Galen rose, even as screams of the living grew louder and louder. Soziel was coming for him, he could tell in the rising pitch of death. Galen’Dir glanced at the effigy of Lithna, arms folded over her chest in a classic vampire stance, and fled through the front door. It wasn’t becoming, especially in a holy place of Lithna, a goddess who despised failures, but self preservation was utmost on Galen’s mind. That and how exactly his family was going to survive this war.
Lectus 09-25-05, 05:22 PM	A wet branch hit Lectus square in the face as they pushed him forward, braving the wilds of Valriaku. "This blood sigil must be something for them to hide it in the middle of Vampire hunter territory." Tiber said, as he lead up ahead of the rest. Cecilia and an unnamed vampire flanked Lectus to either side. Cecilia looked at Lectus as she responded, "If it's even here. We might be searching for weeks, if not months." "That's fine." Tiber said, unconcerned, "The more time we have with our friend, the hungrier he gets. Then we'll know for sure where it is." The sound of rustling leaves sounded from behind them, and then a growl, followed by the appearance of a feral vampire. Tiber drifted subtly but quickly to Cecilia's side, unshouldering his spear to face the monster. "In back of me, guards, take up flanking position."
Dragna the Claw 09-25-05, 05:36 PM	Zek and Brak pushed through the last wall of fat, man-sized leaves and almost strolled into the middle of a fight. The summoner quickly leapt back behind the cover of jungle foliage, his imp clinging tightly to his shoulder. Goddess willing they remained unseen. "What's going on?" Brak whispered. Zek shook his head, then peered between a veil of meaty vines to watch. Lectus and his jailors stood on one end of a narrow clearing and a vampire, well-fed but still acting like the beast, snarled and paced. The savage hissed, "Tresspassers! This is Vanir'i territory. You're not welcome here. Turn back or prepare to meet Lithna."
Lectus 10-03-05, 05:32 PM	Vanir'i... Could they be related to Vanir? Lectus knew better than to think otherwise. He'd lost track of the youth while they were fleeing the wilderness the last time he'd been here. And to all appearances here in this strange, chance meeting it would seem that the youngling had developed quite the following for himself, albiet his choice of territory was a bit gamey. Perhaps the blood mage could use the situation to escape, and get a meeting with his young friend into the bargain. "Wait," Lectus said, halting Tiber in his stride to engage the wildling, "I believe I can parley with them." Lectus stepped forward to the surprise of both the Calalas siblings, "We have no wish to fight, honorable Vanir'i." He said with a cautious bow, "We only seek an audience with your sire to procure our passage through this wilderness."
Dragna the Claw 10-04-05, 01:14 PM	(w/ help from Lectus) The Vanir’i nodded, “Very well. Our Lord does not receive many guests, but he has never denied a vampire the right to speak.” Never quite turning his back on the party, the lone barbarian led the group through the dark jungle. Its sticky air and oppressive foliage snagged and wore on the party (and the pair following the party), but it hardly seemed to brush against the Vanir’i. He moved as uninhibited as one walking through an open field, even glancing back impatiently a few times at his charges’ lack of pace. The trek ran the better part of the day, along routes the Tirbuk group would never have dreamt of going. Under several cave tunnels almost completely disguised by overgrowth, across a wide rapid via a secret bridge carved along a rock face, and through patches of jungle nearly on top of enemy camps. It was treacherous, to be sure, but again the barbarian seemed unphased. If the journey proved anything, it was that the dangers of the Valriaku had hardened him and his brethren against fear. Their skills in battle should a roaming giant or hunting party came across them remained to be seen. The Vanir'i suddenly slowed his pace, falling back to where Lectus walked in front of his captors. Tiber eyed the move suspiciously, but dared not risk losing their only guide. The barbarian kept his eyes forward, "Why are two others following? Do you think me a fool?" "Explain?" Lectus requested. "Six of my men shadow us right now, weapons ready, willing to die to defend Vanir. I’ve known of the vampire and the imp since we started. Why do they not move with your group?" "We're being followed?" Tiber looked behind the party and squinted "If it offends you, we will allow them to travel with the rest of the group, but they are outcasts from society. A matricide and a matricide's familiar." "Blood mage!" Tiber growled, and leveled his spear with Lectus' neck. The Vanir'i snarled and swung his bare hand down with such force to strike down the spear, Tiber thought it might have broken. "No bloodshed! Not till we meet with Vanir." The trees rustled with unrest. From behind some bushes, Brak cursed softly and Zek held his breath. Lectus took the opportunity to distance himself from the Calalas'. "Forgive my companion's manners, he's been on edge since entering the wilderness." "Ah!" Lectus gasped, "I almost forgot my own. I'm Lectus. This is Tiber and Cecilia Calalas. The names of the ones following us are of no concern." The barbarian held Tiber’s gaze a few seconds, then turned to Lectus, “Oba. Now let’s run. It isn’t much farther.” They picked up the pace, though much to the dislike of Cecilia. Brak and Zek barely managed to keep up either, though knowing unseen eyes were watching was like a prodding iron. By nightfall they reached the threshold of an ancient temple. A massive dome of stone rose in the background, covered in mist and swollen vines. A wide radius of ruins, statues, and strangely twisted trees separated the jungle from it. The floor was paved, though grass and roots broke through many parts, and half the grounds were flooded by natural springs and depressions that retained rain water. Lizards moved in the water and strange sorts of apes in the trees. Birds shrieked from every direction, new to vampire ears yet strangely familiar in their predatory sound. The six shadows emerged from the jungle just after the group, warriors looking very similar to Oba, dressed in hides and leather and carrying no discernable weapons. Wolves walked with them and one panther. They held Zek and Brak in custody and pushed them in with the others. Oba led fifty or so yards into the temple grounds and howled. He closed his eyes and waited. A howl soon returned and twenty more vampires appeared from various hiding spots across the temple grounds. They gathered before Oba and performed a strange greeting with their hands, like the swiping of two tiger claws. They began parting and one walked to the foreground. He was young, very young, only about twenty or so, lean and tall with shaggy black hair past his shoulders. His eyes were green fire and his skin badly freckled and dark from prolonged exposure to the sun. His face reflected a strange excitement, like he was always ready to fight or flee, and took on an added dimension of familiarity when he saw Lectus. “Well,” Vanir said, “I knew you’d be back one day.” He reached for a strap behind his back and drew a brilliantly crafted short sword with a wolf’s head hilt.
Lectus 10-05-05, 01:38 PM	Lectus had a haggard look about him as he made his way through the wilderness. The anguish lines on his face almost made him seem middle aged. Oh and not to mention his ratty robes. Cecilia could never abide these adventuring types; They aged much too fast. Suddenly, as she criticised him mentally, a thorn-vine tripped her up, catching on her skirts and pulling the vampiress down. She cried out for help, but went unheeded, even by her brother. After a moment or two of sulking, she saw the horrible face of one of their savage wardens, staring at her through the brush. After that sight, she got up without so much as a whimper, and skipped ahead to catch up to the others. There was something vaguely obscene about the appearance of a dome in the thick of the wilderness. As it came into view, Cecilia couldn't help but blush a tad. The red remained on her cheeks as the apparent lord of these wildlings appeared from the temple grounds, with flowing black hair, green vibrant eyes and the musculature akin to the dashing figure of one of her romance novels. Cecilia's heart fluttered at the mere sight of him. The blemishes on his skin went unnoticed, to her he seemed dashing. She made eyes at this Vanir as Lectus had an exchange with him, something boring about old times and a magical stone or some idiotic nonsense. Finally, after a fashion she lost her patience, "Uncle Lectus," She murmured piteously, "Won't you introduce me to Lord Vanir?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "It was inevitable, it seems." Lectus looked at Vanir. He seemed so different from the unspoiled, but savage youth he'd left behind at the temple. "I should have done away with myself long ago, or else it never would have come to pass. Nevertheless, here I am. I would like to see the envoy." When Cecilia asked to be introduced, the vampire merely looked at her for a moment, and then turned to Vanir, "I suppose I should introduce my companions. These two are Cecilia and Tiber Calalas, I believe you've met Brak, but not his master Zek."
Dragna the Claw 10-05-05, 07:13 PM	Vanir barely seemed to notice Cecilia with a passing glance that returned to Lectus as inevitably as the blood mage returned to this ancient site. “This is a temple, not a zoo. You can’t see her.” He stabbed the blade down with such force it pierced the stone, “Not you. You left her, Lectus. Left her to the agony of Kal’Tas’ possession. By the time I returned with help it was too late. Ryana was gone, replaced by a crazed monster that slew twelve vampires before we could seal her up. She’s in the dome right now, wailing, fighting against her chains and the bloodthorns we transplanted at the foot of her prison to drain her ever-regenerating blood.” He squeezed the grip of his sword and the blade washed over in a red glow. Vanir carved a line across the solid pavement between them, “Worst of all she fights that cursed sigil.”
Lectus 10-07-05, 10:44 PM	"Stop speaking like a child," Lectus said, "You've grown since we've last met Vanir, but..." The blood mage stopped in midsentence. There was a disturbance in the air. It started as though a slight breeze were flowing through the jungle night, then a rumbling like the approach of elephants. The rumbling reached a crescendo, and in an instant, the perimeter of the Temple was alight with holy fire. From amidst the flaming walls, giant crusaders came crashing in, accompanied in the flanks by what appeared to be Saris. In the confusion, a vampire's death cry was heard, "Ambush!" The words were hardly across the clearing when fire began raining down from the sky, the voice of a crazed saris could be heard in the distance, uttering words of magic. Vampire crossed spear with sword against their blood enemies, some were immolated where they stood. Others, more clever, fled to the center, to form some semblance of a band. Lectus didn't waste time with the defenses, looking over his shoulder with a fire filling his eyes, "Zek, into the temple, follow, now!" Cecilia didn't waste much time either, as she was quick to pursue the blood mage into the 'safety' of the temple. Meanwhile, with the battle just getting started outside. A black vested saris, with his fur bleached white, emerged into the thick of it, waving a pair of flaming arcs around in a deadly spiral. "Praise Rasha! Bless Marith!" He hissed, reducing a pair of vampires to ash with a single arcing sweep of his blades. All around, the perimeter of giants and saris closed on the group protecting the temple while fire rained from above.
Dragna the Claw 10-09-05, 04:21 PM	Amidst the explosions, death cries, erroneous clashing of temple defenders and cat warriors, and the giants with their mauls and tree trunks crushing everything in sight, Brak screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Clinging around the neck of his master, the imp could do nothing but watch one near-death after the other as Zek dodged blades and fireballs in a mad chase after Lectus. The vampire forces were being decimated. This was a well planned strike and as he grew closer to the dome, Zek held little hope for victory. The Jungle Bat’s crew had dispersed, back into the jungle or toward the dome’s sanctuary, while the Vanir’i rallied around their master. Some morphed into wolves and jaguars, while others released sharp, primal calls to the strange fauna of the Que’tal, being answered by demon apes and hook-beaked dire parrots. A small army began to form, called to arms in the center of the temple grounds, but even so none could withstand the purifying fires. Zek reached a small door, the only entrance in the mammoth dome, and followed the blood mage and Cecilia inside. It was dark, an abyssal dark vampire eyes couldn’t penetrate. “Demon.” Brak whispered, “I can smell one.” The summoner groped blindly down a long corridor heading directly into the center of the dome, “Vanir mentioned Kal’Tas. He couldn’t have meant…” Brak shivered as they entered a chamber carved like a heart in the ancient structure. Zek stopped short, just feet away from Lectus and Cecilia who stared gaping across a large canyon whose bottom boiled with black, steaming tar. One bridge led to the center of the pit where large disc levitated, overrun by the gorged vines of bloodthorn plants and wound over and over again with thick chains from several ship's anchors. A figure struggled bound by it all, a woman but not, twisted and hideous through five years contending with one of the greatest archfiends known in the material world. Above her floated such a tiny thing, a stone whose color shifted from brilliant scarlet to a deep, brooding crimson. She turned to the group instantly, her face twisting even more at the sight of Lectus, "HHHhhhhhhhhheeeeeelp me."
Lectus 10-10-05, 05:29 PM	There it was. Hovering over Ryana was the blood sigil and, more than likely, the very cause of this war. Lectus had thought that by leaving it in her possession that the collective psionic energy of vampirekind would drive the arch demon back into oblivion potentially saving the envoy. Instead, Kal'Tas had endured and corrupted the sigil, warping it to suit his own ambitions and search for power. Now it had to be removed, and with it, it was likely that Kal'Tas would be set loose, this time with the collective knowledge of vampirekind at his disposal. He would be unstoppable by any earthly force, a match for Meeghus Khan even. When Lectus saw Ryana, he had to turn away for a moment in disgust. It was then that he recognised the cause for Vanir's animosity. This had been their sister, their spiritual leader in a sense. Lectus had seen the very mother of vampirekind in her, with that being the reason he'd followed her so long ago. To have left her in such a state was the height of betrayal. But Lectus couldn't afford the luxury of self-pity or hatred. Not while he still drew breath and the fate of all vampires was resting on his shoulders. With his first step, he set foot upon the precarious ledge leading up to the demon's prison. Zek, Lectus channeled his companion psionically, I ask no small thing of you now. Kal'Tas is about to be unleashed, and I need you to do whatever possible to bind him. At every cost, the blood sigil is to remain out of his grasp. Do this. The blood mage closed the channel before Zek could object, and continued on his way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~ Oh, Zeeeeeeee'eeeek.... Another voice called him, this one whining in a child's tone, seeming to mock him. The blood mage asks this favor of you. Zek could recognise the image of the devil, Que'Nihal flashing in his mind for a half second, before the familiar scene of Lectus walking across the fiery chasm came back to life, And it's so very far from your grasp. But in this case, you need only make the proper wish, and it will be done. [i]Hurry, before the blood mage makes an even greater fool of himself. Then we may discuss the terms of your payment.[i]
Dragna the Claw 10-11-05, 05:50 PM	(w/ help from Lectus) 'Bind who!?!' Zek nearly choked on his heart as it thoomed with the reality he was in the presence of Kal'Tas, but when the archfiend Que'Nihal appeared he reeled, falling to the ground and fighting shock. Mortal minds could take only so much, even a summoner familiar with demonic conversion and a man who spent time in the torture chambers of Hell. But, luckily or unluckily, Que'Nihal had done something to the room. Lectus and Cecilia moved markedly slower, as if the air had turned to clear glue, and even the thrashing of the woman Ryana seemed less violent, almost tantric. "Unholy ****ing ****!" Brak nearly fell on top of his master, somehow immune to the time ebb like his master. He stared through the illusions at Que'Nihal, "What in the Hells and all Ku'shak are you doing here?" "The entirety of vampirekind, with all their desires, most fervent prayers and highest ambitions, all concentrated into one small point above the arch demon Kal'Tas, whose own ambition is more than a match for the likes of Dominus Skyblinder and Meeghus Khan." Que'Nihal's hood flowed as he shook his head, "What, dear Imp, do you think I'm doing here?" Despite it all, Brak smirked. "Yea, well, you caught me off guard is all. So, Queeny, Queeny, just what will this payment be? You can consider me his representative." His master slowly began to stir. Zek swore the two were discussing something impossible, like payment. The arch-devil spread his arms innocently, "What do I ever ask of anyone? You need not play the lawyer, Imp, I only want Zek to get his most precious wish. His satisfaction is payment enough." Brak eyed the King of Lies, "You'll help bind Kal'Tas for free? You? For free?" "Of course, little monster. If that is his wish." Working what little hellish magic he possessed, Brak reached behind his back and pulled back out a contract, "Alrighty. I'll just need you to sign here, here, and here." Que'Nihal seemed to inspect the contract with a cursory interest. After a moment or two, he began to mutter, "Harem rights.... why is there a clause about a lifetime supply of cigars in this deal? This is unacceptable." Brak laughed nervously, "Hehe, right, we'll just take those out. How bout one cigar, though? I could really use it after Zek's jog over here." Que'Nihal shrugged, snapped his fingers, and a cigar appeared... over the flaming chasm of burning pitch. If Brak could fly really fast, he might catch it. "Prick," Brak muttered, turning around and shaking Zek till he was conscious enough to hear most words. "Hey, hey Zek. Come sign this." Groggily, Zek sat up, "Sign?" Brak produced a pen from some extradimensional pocket, the final trick in his hell-born bag, and put it in his master's hand. Zek scrawled his name. By the time Que'Nihal got around to signing the contract, Lectus was already at the threshold of Ryana's prison. The vampiress' flesh contorted and expanded intermittently, violently as he approached, hinting at the demon that lurked within. Heedless of the bloodthorns, he scaled the vines up to the very pinnacle of the prison. At the very moment where he tried to snatch the blood sigil, it was gone, and the chamber suddenly went dark, pitch black.
Lectus 10-12-05, 01:59 PM	It was dark, and cold, and wet, and sticky, and smelly, and furry. Ew! What was that? It moved! Horrible rodents everywhere! But there was also open space, and she had to follow it. She hit her head on the way out, it was a small tunnel, but large enough for her to squeeze through. A rip tore through her skirts, opening a slit that allowed her leg to slip out onto the moist passage. Finally after what seemed to be minutes, a ray of daylight lay just around the next bend. It was a comforting sight compared to the apparent sewage she had to trudge through to get there. A few moments of scurrying like a mouse, and she was out, into the open air. Cecilia was free! She hardly noticed her strength leaving her in the broad jungle daylight. What she did notice, however, was a chaotic mess, the leftovers of the battle they'd fled...which only seemed to be only moments before. It was over, and that much was a relief. How it ended, and which side had won was less certain. Saris bodies as well as vampires lay on the ground, dead. A few giants here or there as well. Cecilia had to step over one of the collosal beasts just to backtrack from where she believed their group had come. It was hard to judge now, especially since Vanir's group had led them so far off the beaten track. But she kept going, hoping that the way might become clear. She double checked the blood sigil in her belt pouch, nodded, and continued on her way. Unbeknowest to her, a tiny figure stalked the brush, just meters behind...
Lectus 10-15-05, 12:19 PM	Kal'Tas had been writhing. Boundless power locked into such a measly vessel, teasing him with the potential he had to change, to affect change, and yet limited to that one small peice of space. This is the fate that Kal'Tas suffered for that decade, ten years of eternity, squandered, while the conflicts power shifts and spirals to power of an entire race, nay, the blood of every race, wracked his demonic mind. All of that potential at his very fingertips, and he could naught but extend an inch from his fleshly prison. It was a slight bit frustrating. Then, at the end of his term, that meddling vampire lackey of Ver'Dir's had scaled his prison, just out of his reach, about to steal his lifeline to the world, the one thing that kept him bound to that earthly prison. And when it was gone, he was free, freer than he'd ever felt, in all the eons when he'd been but a larva, chained in the highest echelon of Meeghus Khan's Hell, to the time when he'd finally descended to demonhood, and begun his dominion over the Dir Clan of vampires. Never had he felt or possessed such a boundless presence. But then he felt something else, another. But how could there be another? Kal'Tas embodied power and egoism in it's purest sense, and could hardly fathom the idea of another. The other came into being before him, casting a familiar image before his vision. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jasper, you little fiend, A booming voice resounded in the goblin's head, have you got the sigil yet? The goblin shook his head frantically while pressing through the temple ruins, his old eyes whelling with tears, "No, no, no. Not yet." Of all the indignities, trusting my fate to a little peck like you. It growled, Get the sigil, kill her, do whatever you have to do. Then bring it to my servant. There, he will ensure my ressurection. Jasper tightened his fists and grinned, breaking into a run. "Yes, master. Jasper no fail." Que'Nihal let the goblin go to it's work. In the meantime, he had greater concerns. The effect of his so-called binding of Kal'Tas had had an unexpected effect. One that needed seeing to. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The image was that of Que'Nihal, and it merely spoke a few words before disappearing into the ether, "We must ally if we're to complete our triumvirate. I need you to appear in Cliffside, to the King. He needs our help. I'll see to our other."
Lectus 10-23-05, 08:42 PM	Ashlar's attutide was quietly exhultant as he walked through the halls of Lorfeign manor. Just as Que'Nihal had predicted, the revelations of Ezariel the Watcher had driven Zek beyond the limits of despair and away from Cliffside, content in the knowledge that all of vampirekind would be doomed, along with the Lorfeigns. Along the way, Ashlar did the dirty work, calling in favors to keep the Jungle bat at Harbor at sundown, when most of the ships would be setting out on their nightly runs, thus increasing the chance that the summoner's sojourn would coincide Lectus' prison. From there, it took little work for Que'Nihal to influence the meddling imp's desires and lead him into the dark confines of the lower decks. The rest was up to the two vampires and, thus far, Que'Nihal's predictions hadn't strayed far from the way they played out in time. Ashlar had truly chosen the best of allies. Now the Blood Sigil would be on it's way northeast, to Cliffside. In the meantime, Ashlar had to make his meeting with a king in the making. A pair of guards stopped the necromancer as he came to the threshold of Lorfeign's great hall, "What's your business with house Lorfeign?" Ashlar cleared his throat before replying, "I've come to have a parley with the princess. Is she available?"
Dragna the Claw 10-24-05, 09:58 PM	It wasn't an easy argument to win entrance into House Lorfeign under the simple and impossibly arrogant wish for an audience with Princess Naphira. However, Ashlar was no stranger to the arts of diplomacy and misdirection and even the staunch bastards of Ameroza Lorfeign acting as doormen gave in time. Whatever influence Ashlar's demonic ally had on Huma's passage may always remain a mystery. Needless to say Ashlar found himself in a private sitting room, waiting for her arrival. It was a lavish room, draped and laden with golden things. Naphira entered in a fluster, her cheeks flushed though the rest of her features hidden under a crimson veil. She was wrapped in black silk, a gown of magnificent quality comparable to a spider's web or the intricate laces of a snowflake. She was equally unique, shapely, untold beauty hiding behind a thin lair of cloth. Her eyes betrayed her softness, hard and black as a shark's. "What brings the fallen of Huma to my door, much less my sitting room!?! Someone will be punished." She slammed the door behind her, the shifting form of Kaz just outside. Waiting. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Zek scrambled out of the temple without thinking, allowing the primitive side of him, the beast, to take over. It only worried about survival. Not Brak. Not Lectus. Not that screaming envoy Ryana or the mocking cowl of Que'Nihal. He wasn't sure just how he made it out, needless to say when his claw slipped and his face struck mud he realized he was far enough away to rest. "You flew out of there like... well you know, the whole bat out of Hell thing," Brak said, hovering off to his right. The summoner snatched his imp from the air and yanked him down, "What in all creation did you make me sign? Didn't you see I was half-conscious? Didn't you know that was the First Liar!?!" Brak gulped, "Well, he offered to help and we both knew you couldn't bind Kal'Tas, not with all the summoners of Al'Zareef. It'd have taken Ghul himself." Zek slammed the imp into the same mud his face had stamped, "You idiot. You little, stupid thing. You may have damned us all." Bubbles rose from the mud as Brak cursed and explained all at once and without lifting his head out. Zek sighed and tore his familiar up, even as he kept talking, "So I wrote the contract and he didn't sneak any extra clauses over me. Don't you worry. So he got the blood sigil. We got our lives! And we didn't have to fight Kal'Tas, the meanest mother--" Zek rammed Brak back into the mud.
Lectus 11-01-05, 11:38 AM	"I thought I might lighten her greatness' spirits with the promise of a gift." Ashlar said, not daring to meet those black eyes with his own. Instead, he held out a rolled parchment. If Naphira had cared to take it and glance at it's contents, she might be surprised to see research conducted by ancient Huma necromancers on the blood sigil, and it's potential power. Especially if combined with choice artifacts of Lithna's Raiment. "I've located this artifact, after much soul searching, and it will soon be in my house's possession." His eyes finally rose to meet hers, "I thought it might interest you to know that."
Dragna the Claw 11-03-05, 12:57 PM	Naphira scanned the papers quickly and met Ashlar's gaze without pause, "If you're playing me false, Huma, I will show you new meaning to the words pain and loss. However," She walked past him, brushing against his shoulder ever so slightly before reclining on an overly-cushioned chaise, "I am most interested. Though why grace such a boon on me, praytell?" "Ahh, I see there's no fooling you." Ashlar bowed. "It is not so much a gift as a dowry. House Huma would join their house to yours." Naphira laughed, so hard she nearly fell off her seat, "You're not proposing a marriage, fair Ashlar, are you?" Ashlar smiled, "If that's what it takes." The room darkened, cast shadows from the drapes and commodes stretching across the room and gathering around the Lorfeign princess. Her eyes rolled over from black to something worse, "How bold. Amusing, but bold. Perhaps a formal alliance is more in order, unless you crave one of my useless cousins." "A useless cousin in return for the key to the vampiric mothermind?" Ashlar didn't seem disturbed in the least by her show of ire. "And what more would you ask of me for a shadow of a promise? Many say this ancient relic does not even exist, people I trust more than you, and yet here I am sitting in my parlor listening to your claim." Ashlar quirked an eyebrow at this, "Very well then. I only ask a shadow of a promise in return. Let it be official when we have that nonexistant artifact in the room. But for now we must negotiate and come to a geas. I've no desire to bring it here, only to be torn apart by a demoness." She sat up and crossed her legs, "Then speak plainly. What is it you want from me as payment for this most precious item?" "A marriage between the prince of our house and a princess of yours, it must be." She sat quiet a moment, "And what prince of Huma still lives?" "This one." She smiled, "Well then, Sadir Lorfeign is yours should you deliver the blood stone. Granted, she is only nine months, but she is the only princess left to offer you." Ashlar bowed again, "I thank you, but what use does a nine month old have of the blood sigil? It would be years before your house could make use of it." "Well, of course I would safeguard my sister's dowry till she came of age." "I think it would be more appropriate for her betrothed to possess it. The very least I can agree to is joint possession." After a moment, he added, "And that's cutting my own teeth." "A joint possession, then," She purred, "As long as the sigil remains in my house. I will supply the libraries, the labs, the tools, the guards, and all manner of service we might need to study it." "Generous!" Huma bowed yet again. "and I will supply the blood sigil." She stood, "Then we have an agreement?" Ashlar nodded his assent.
Lectus 11-04-05, 05:22 PM	As he left, Ashlar couldn't have felt better about the way things had gone with Naphira. Although he'd intimated that he wanted a marriage with her, it was only to satisfy her pride. He would sooner bed a fire-breathing dragon than that demoness. He would've gladly settled for one of the useless cousins, but a princess, one that was barely out of her mother's womb would be perfect. Someone to mold in his own house's image, and then a potential scion to the throne of Cliffside. Yes, the little princess would do just fine. Of course, Ashlar knew that Naphira would take it upon herself to try and dispose of him at every possible opportunity, but the necromancer wasn't too concerned with this. Years spent trafficking with the spirits of the underworld left him numb to the possibility of joining that august body. Such a fate hardly seemed to slow the Huma's down, afterall. Even after the death of three princes or four princes of their house, they were still scheming and outpacing the rest of the vampiric race. It was just that nobody noticed it. That always seemed to Ashlar, and the rest of House Huma, the best way to dominate. (OOC: Sorry for the short. Will post on Lectus later.)
Lectus 11-09-05, 05:20 PM	(OOC: Didncha know? Later = 5 days) Five years of an eternity; she spent them in the throes of demonic possession, a literal living hell. The questions of her childhood, her uncertain parentage and years of abuse at the hands of the filth of Gibber's Peak were cast aside like minor sensations would be in the midst of an intense, cosmic pain. The fallen of her vampiric bretheren shared their pain with her, their miseries in the deep, bloody abyss that was Lithna's womb, the blood sigil. The experience might've broken others, might have shattered a softer psyche in it's least agonizing moments. But it was through that period that the Envoy realised the pettiness of her earlier pain in comparison to the constant woes that her race was enduring, in the very process of being purged as it was, being immolated from within. The Envoy realised her place then, should she ever escape the hell she was in. It was her duty to counsel the vampire race, and bring Lithna's message, her plea that they cease their endless quarrels and recognise the true enemy threatening to swallow them whole. After she learned to master her pain, and use it to galvanise her efforts to break free, she found a way to tap into the soulstream of spirits inhabiting the blood sigil, or stone, or whatever the mage had left on her before he departed. She tried to counsel them as Lithna might, prod them to see what laid beneath the surface of their thoughts. In time the Envoy came to recognise a cosmic flux of insidious, brooding and demented intentions. A force bent on destruction, domination, and chaos, slowly corrupting the living of vampirekind, while already having claimed dominion over the dead. It would seem that things were indeed getting out of hand, as Lectus made his way back to that temple in the Valriaku wilderness, to the precipice where her long-tortured body was held ransom by the arch-demon, almost within reach of the blood sigil before it was gone, snatched at the last moment by an unlikely vampiric courtier. After a moment or so, past the time that the courtier took to flee the compound, the Blood mage arose, his eyes straining to adjust to the darkness. He'd seen his share of pain, and had indulged in more than his share of self-pity, but at least he had the virtue of being true to the Vampire race, albiet to the point of suicidal fanaticism. Something less was to be said of his companion, the summoner, who at that very moment was quarreling with his familiar. There was a creature of chaos if the Envoy ever saw one. She might have scowled if she wasn't a disembodied spirit. As if sympathising with her, Lectus scowled himself as he stared at his empty hands, and the scene all around him. After a fashion he rose, and turned to face his companion. "The blood sigil is gone" He said, very matter of factly, "As well as that tormented soul you saw suspended on the precipice. Conjurer, do you have any idea what happened?"
Dragna the Claw 11-09-05, 08:24 PM	It was an oneiric response, like he was outside his body watching himself speak. He lifted Brak and shoved him in the pack before the imp could say one more damning word and looked up at the bloodmage. "A demon intervened, too quickly for any of us to react. He stole the sigil. I'm not even sure how I saw him, perhaps because of my training." He fought the sudden urge to run into the jungle, hunt and feed and be satisfied like he imagined those ancient ancestors of the Vampire had once done, before houses and artifacts. These politics were becoming draining and every move he made led him, his house, his very race down deeper and darker holes. "So what now?"
Dragna the Claw 11-10-05, 04:25 PM	It felt like she’d been underground for weeks. Noaka Gyhenna had all but given up the search for her brother’s killer, but in doing so found a new enterprise, one much more profitable. She accepted Daal’s offer and the two fled into the sewers. After twenty minutes in the darkness and offal, Noaka considered killing the human and going back home. She told him as much, remarking she’d use her bare hands since one flicker of pyrotechnics would ignite a holocaust and blow every manhole cover in Cliffside thirty feet high or more. “That’s the plan,” Daal said. “Sort of.” He led her on further, through the ancient sewers that spilt into deep catacombs and natural cavern systems better left forgotten, under a shadow that had lasted for thousands of years. On they went, almost an hour, before Noaka stopped short. “I must be a fool to have followed you so far. Dieing time, Daal.” She cracked her knuckles. “Hold,” Daal shrieked, turning to reveal the bundled crown under his arm. “Do you know what this is?” She frowned, moving closer. “Mine?” He shook his head quickly and backed away. “I wouldn’t advise wearing this. You’d be cursed. This is the Al’Zareef’s blood artifact. This is the Crown of Lithna.” Noaka had heard tell of these artifacts, alone horribly cursed, but united the most powerful set of magical armor on the planet. Even in the pitch, it seemed to be darker, an onyx band with five, foot long spikes. “Fascinating. And why aren’t I killing you and stealing it for my own?” He turned his back and traveled deeper. “I will show you.” Groaning, she followed on, until they turned enough corridors and crawled – crawled – through six inches of pea-colored gelatin to reach a solid, stone wall. Daal flourished his arms, “Here.” Noaka grabbed the human by the throat. “Tell me you’re joking. Please. All this for a dead end?” He choked out, “No. My *cough* lord *gasp* is within.” When his face took on a blue hint, she released him. “Then let’s find a good team of sappers and break him out.” “The wall is warded from steel and stone. Naphira is no fool. She knows I will attempt something, I or one of her brother’s other servants, but in her arrogance she has overlooked something.” Noaka began to catch on, smiling and walking up to the stone. She ran a hand seductively down its smooth face, “She forgot the Gyhennas. And forgetting a pyromancer, dear Daal, is always a mistake.” They retraced their steps to get the proper explosives.
Lectus 11-11-05, 03:10 PM	Lectus rubbed his temples, apparently in the throes of laborious thought, and in the process of combating his own blood hunger. "We find the blood sigil, or might as well perish." After a moment, the blood mage looked up at Zek, "Where is the demon that possessed her," He pointed over toward the precipice, and the smoking pile of vampiric bones, "Displacing the blood sigil should have set Kal'Tas free. I know he wouldn't have fled... Is it possible that he was destroyed?" (OOC: I'll try to be on later for a collaboration. I didn't think I should post with the Envoy intervening just yet without some dialogue and action between our chars.)
Dragna the Claw 11-12-05, 05:10 PM	"Kal'Tas was a powerful demon. I find it hard to believe he was destroyed, though," Zek shivered, "There are greater powers of evil." "From what I learned of Ver'Dir's encounters, I find it hard to believe that he would flee in the event that he wasn't destroyed." Lectus replied. "More than likely he would've smashed anything within the vicinity of this temple. I see no other suitable explanation, although... you are the conjurer." Zek nodded. "Then he must be dead. I am relieved, but a little dissapointed." The summoner turned and began stepping over bodies to exit the temple grounds. "It's not very often I get to meet the truly dark ones. Far be it that I could presume to summon them on my own. Still, had we seen Kal'Tas freed, we'd have not lived long." Lectus took up step beside him, "True." He paused for just a moment, "But I wonder what this means for the blood sigil... Could it be that Kal'Tas merged with it? Surely something would give if it were inhabited by such a creature of chaos." "Anyway," Lectus began as he ascended the moonlit stairs into the jungle above, "All might as well be lost. The Blood Sigil is gone." "And your former friend." Zek added. "If we may assume the demon that stole the sigil is an agent for chaos, as ultimately all their kind are, where would he take it? The place where it would cause the most damage, I would think." "And where would that be?" Lectus sighed, "At times I wonder whether the race would be worse off with a king like Lorfeign." Zek scowled. "How could you say that? Lithna intended the Houses, not that monster sitting a throne. There must be balance and the Houses once maintained that... though now I fear the goddess' system is broken." He turned to Lectus and grinned, even as Brak fought his way out of the pack with a similar sneer. "But you and I will fix it." While Zek was speaking, Lectus stopped a few inches from a battle-scarred corpse. After a moment or two, he crouched beside it and began fiddling with it's hand, trying to pry off a ring. The summoner glanced back. "What are you doing?" With some apparent effort, Lectus finally removed it, and took a closer look, "I believe I've found the means to do just that." He held up a signet ring, of the House Calalas. The high priest's own seal. "That was our friend Tiber. Pity he's dead, but we'll put this to better use than he would." Brak snickered. "Never much cared for that guy." The imp crawled up to Zek's shoulder, sitting backward, tiny legs dangling, staring at the bloodmage. "So we're going to save the world?" "Yes, Brak." Lectus said, pocketing the trinket, "Once again it seems."