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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:27:38 GMT -8
Prologue: "In Search of the Baali"
I was sitting at my desk reading over Xander’s report when I heard his call in my mind.
“Laeldril…” reluctance then pain… “I’m gonna need some help…”
concern, fear… “Xander where are you?”
“…The Great Pyramid in Malas desert… theres a…” deep pain… “abandoned site camp… where I stayed for the
expedition three years ago… just to the East of the pyramid”
“I have never been there, but am on my way…” deep concern… “Xander how badly are you hurt?”
mental chuckle… “I am not supposed to be able to see my leg bone…”
“Spells aren’t healing the break”
“I didn’t bring runebooks…”
“In case whatever the Baali thing is, or one of its Infernal minions were here, and I was caught”
“No trace right?”
anger at herself hidden quickly… “I will take care of you, almost there…”
It took me about twenty minutes to find him, hot baked sands have never been a popular place for me to visit. A trip to the rune library in Luna carefully avoiding the paladins, then I recalled into the Malas desert, activating celerity to run the sands to the abandoned dig sight and to his side as fast as I could. I knelt at Xander’s side as he smiled a little looking up to me. Speaking in his mind I asked where it hurt… his smirk told me the obvious, the bone was protruding through shredded flesh above his knee, I could feel the pain all through him. “Was it a fall, or did something attack you?” I asked gently and he answered, “The Sphinx”. I took off my gloves to inspect the wound as he continued to tell me he was in wolf form when it swatted him, that The Sphinx knocked him across the room against a wall. It took determination to remain calm seeing my second cub in a month hurt. I spoke softly looking to him in earnest, “Xander I don’t know how to set a bone.” Xander wincing while trying to smile told me he honestly didn’t know either. If it were set I could teach you to knit the bone back together, and mend the flesh. After some contemplation I told Xander I would get him to Runescape and we would find someone to aid us in repairing the break. Xander opened a gate home and I craddled him to me taking him to one of the open rooms laying him gently on the bed.
I could feel consciousness becoming a problem, the pain too intense, locking eyes with Xander I told him I needed to call for help, I couldn’t help him alone. Xander forced a smile and nodded, “okay…” he said, “ I’ll be alright…” There was only one person I knew would come when I called, many times Azrael had told me, “ Just call my name.” Azrael had taught me how to contact him, softly I asked hoping he would hear, “are you there?” I couldn’t hide my distress or anxiety. Softly I heard him answer back, “I am… what’s wrong?” My words came out quickly, “Xander is hurt, I don’t know how to ease his pain or how to set a broken bone.” I watched as Xander began to shake, I took a bandage and tried to examine the wound but pulled back horrified as he cried out at my touch, his mind flashing bright white pain for me to feel. Through gritted teeth Xander was apologizing for yelling; as I attempted to comfort him; and Azrael drifted from the shadows his brow arched.
Where Xander looked to Azrael blinking in surprise and a little fear, relief crossed my face, my distress easing knowing help was here. Azrael looked from me to Xander then to his knee studying the wound. I felt fear from Xander quickly however overwhelmed by pain. Softly I spoke to Azrael, “I don’t know what to do…” Azrael nodded once removing his gloves, looking to Xander he uttered one word, “how?” As I tried to comfort Xander and reassure him, he stuttered, “The Sphinx, I was in wolf form, it knocked me several meters into… a wall.” Azrael nodded a bit looking at the wound, tilting his head. Xander looked to me with some fear still, in his mind I could feel his uncertainty mixed with intense pain making it hard for him to concentrate. In our thoughts I asked him to focus on my eyes, sharing the affection I had for him and my confidence in Azrael making things right.
Azrael leaned close breathing in softly near where the bone protruded from the skin. Quickly it was becoming impossible for Xander to concentrate through the pain, I held his gaze focusing on him. Azrael said softly, “it is a relatively clean break.” Xander responded saying, “That’s… a good thing right?” to which Azrael nodded once. “It means I that I can set it without need for surgical measures…” Azrael added, “though…” and he looked to Xander emotionlessly, “this is going to hurt excruciatingly…” Azrael finished with calm honesty, as he nodded once looking back to the knee. Wide-eyed Xander looked to me and I held his gaze telling him, “it will be alright,” nodding gently, reassuring him from my mind. Azrael rested one hand just below the break, the other above; Xander breathed in and out sharply; Azrael spoke softly, “on three…” From my mind I soothed Xander, “hold on sweetie.”
“One…”
“Two…”
Azrael jerked quickly on two snapping the break cleanly back into place with a loud pop, Xander was waiting on three, in surprise and blinding pain he started to yell… Azrael reached up studying the wound calm and still and said simply, “sleep…” A calm spread through Xander, his yell silenced before he could let it out; his head fell back into the pillow, eyes closed and I could sense from his mind he was out cold…
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:27:59 GMT -8
Chapter 1: "A Chance Encounter"
Lael hated the walk from the moongate to Britain, "honestly," she thought to herself, "I need to ask Sian to mark me runes to tedious places I need to visit..." The guards in Britain didn't take kindly to wolves running in the streets, so bipedal transportation best suited this trip. Lael scanned the underbrush as she moved along the road to the city, twitching her ears listening and sampling the air for changes or anything out of the ordinary; just outside the city out of the ordinary raised its wary head... Sulfur and not the ash burned by mages assailed her nostrils. Laeldril dropped low behind a tree scanning the area, inhaling deeply filtering the scents she found blood and a direction to follow. Not a hundred yards from the side of the road in the underbrush outside Britain she found the monk's body, still warm he had not been dead long.
The monk lay spread eagle on his back, his eyes open irises rolled up back into his head. His left arm at his side the right pulled out with the sleeve of his robe pushed up to his shoulder. Like the others there were burn marks on his flesh and clothing as well as the ground nearby. Laeldril began meticulously examining his remains, pulling a kit from her pack she took samples of his scorched skin, and fabric from his robe, hair and nails along with a vile of his blood what little of it remained. In her notebook she sketched the scene, how the body lay, the upturned pentagram on the monks forehead she could barely look at to draw, and a curious new detail. The monk had carved into the flesh of his right forearm a number, "01113". Finally she pulled back the monks robe and revealed his chest, it had been cut open, the ribcage pulled apart to reveal the organs beneath. Something had cut out this monks heart and Laeldril was sure she knew what, all the signs were here... she had found another victim of the Baali.
Once she gathered all she could from the scene, Lael destroyed the body and the evidence, nothing could be left to tie this murder to the clan, or her race, the Masquerade must be maintained. When done, thinking to herself it must be close, this work was recent she activated her sensory augmentation, filtering sound and smell to find a trail to follow, to the south she followed the scent of blood and sulfur, cautious but swift to catch up to who had done this to the monk. The chase ended at a river, the scent trial ending; following up and down stream Laeldril couldn't find the beast to follow further...
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:28:18 GMT -8
Chapter 2: "Murder by Numbers"
Pre-dawn mist blanketed the town of Vesper in a sheen of dampness and cold. Xander Rayne smiled to himself, looking up at the deep bluish-gray clouds that covered the city watching over the rim of his reading glasses as they rolled in from the sea, and pulled his ankle length long coat more tightly around himself. Most despised the constant springtime rains of the port town, but to Xander they were a welcome sight, with many a day spent here growing up under similar skies. They were some of his most treasured memories.
He walked across the southernmost bridge into the town itself, and smiled more broadly as the salty sea breeze drifted in lazily from the darkening skyline on the horizon. He paused, turning to the ocean, and noted on days like this is was difficult to tell where the water ended and the cloud-filled sky began. The sites and smells of the port town waking up had always amused the young thief. Strange spiced scents drifted in from the docks themselves, along with fish of every kind, fresh caught during the night. Xander’s head tilted slowly as an unexpected scent drifted up around him…sulfer.
He muttered under his breath lightly, “what in the nine hells…?”
Carefully he looked around the bridge, and a gust of wind from the ocean carried the scent more strongly up and to him. It’s source now evident, from under the bridge.
Quickly he backtracked to the beginning of the bridge leading outside the town, and hopped the small stone wall descending the hill that led to the causeway below in quick, sure steps, landing lightly, on the small embankment of stone support that ran along the small canal beneath the stone structure.
He blinked, seeing the pale body of a small-framed woman, eyes pale blue , staring out toward the sea. Her body layed, splayed over the walkway, naked, pale, and cold in the light gray of the dawn. Xander slowly brought a gloved hand to cover his mouth, seeing her chest cracked open, and an odd hollow cavity where her heart should have been. The cloud of sulfur smell hung over her like a fetid essence, looming and refusing to withdraw. Burn marks could be seen around her neck and across her shoulders, and On her head etched deeply into skin was an inverted pentagram. Bite marks, two thin and grouped puncture wounds, could be seen all over what was left of her pale corpse, and deep black bruises ran along her inner thighs, telling of the sexual horrors she must have endured before the creature killed her...
He looked down slowly, a mixture of shock, fear, and intense sadness filled his dark azure blue eyes. As he glanced up slowly once more, a strange bloodied wound lay on her right forearm. Xander grimaced and crouched, studying the wound more closely. A series of numbers had been carved, and fear mounted in young Mr. Rayne as he read across each number in the sequence: “0…2…1…1…3.”
The Baali’s second victim, in what was becomming a string of serial murders.
Xander glanced around quickly, summoning an elemental of the earth, following the summons with a quick polymorph to disguise his features in case the killer or one of its infernal minions still watched from afar. He instructed the earth elemental to collect the body, and opened a gate.
Half an hour later Xander stood watching the small pyre he had built in the tropical wilderness near the shrine of Honor, well out of the way of being stumbled upon by any interlopers. Tears brimmed in his deep blue eyes but refused to fall as he watched all evidence of the woman, her life, lift in clouds of smoke and ash.
Masquerade must be preserved he had been told when the murders began. The mortal world must not be allowed to take notice of the Baali vampire, to prevent the witch hunts for any kindred it could spark, while the Clan investigated the murders, and sought the Baali for destruction.
“Masquerade must be preserved,” he whispered bitterly, looking down a moment.
Carefully he looked back up and then skyward to the heavy black smoke drifting away from the nameless woman as even her bones were consumed in fire…
In a saddened whisper he added quietly, “but at what cost?”
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:29:07 GMT -8
Chapter 3: "The Work of the Baali" Kraven leaned back in his chair and gazed around the room again. It was late but the taverns of Britain stayed busy far into the night. Kraven just sipped his wine quietly, watching the staggering and laughter of all those in the room. His eyes gazed from one individual to another, swirling his wineglass in a steady motion. His eyes narrowed suddenly, focusing on a single person. “Found you…” The portly, middle-aged man hobbled into the tavern, his motion implying he was already intoxicated. Friends laughed and greeted him with raised mugs as the door slammed shut behind him. Kraven kept his eyes focused on the overweight man for hours. The man and his friends laughing and joking the night away as this generously proportioned individual ate and drank far more than anyone should in an entire day. Hours went on and Kraven started to glance at a nearby hanging clock impatiently. Three in the morning, the dawn was drawing closer. Finally, saying his goodbyes in horrible slurs, the large man staggered to his feet and made his way for the door. A slow grim crept across Kraven’s face as the door shut behind the large man. “Finally…” Kraven muttered, standing in an eager motion and making his way out the door, following quickly on his victim’s footsteps. It didn’t take long to catch up to this particular target. Kraven follow the man at an annoyingly slow pace, eventually pursuing him into one of the many dark, rat-infested alleys of the large cities slums. The man pressed his hand against a stonewall and panted some, his appearance suggesting that the keg worth of alcohol he drank was trying to come back up. “Allow me to put you out of your misery.” Kraven stated with a dark grin on his face. The man turned just in time to see the wave of fire consume him. Blaze and inferno scorching him from head to toe, his screams silenced as he choked and gagged from the smoke of his own burning flesh. Kraven’s grin only widened, drawing a pair of tongs and a metallic pentagram from his pack as he watched the man slowly die in anguish. Kraven grasped the pentagram firmly in the grip of the tongs, holding the metallic symbol as far away from himself as possible as a small wave of fire was shot forth, the metal pentagram glowing red. Kraven kneeled next to his victim, pressing the searing metal to the victim’s head, and burning the image so that the star was inverted, the tip pointing down on the victim’s forehead. Next he drew a black knife, daemonic figures forged into the handle of the weapon. Kraven hacked and sliced at his victim, eagerly tearing ribs apart to get a clear view of his prize. After much effort, Kraven reached into his victim and drew out the heart, a horrible, satisfied grin donning his face. Kraven ripped the heart from his victim and put the organ away for safekeeping. There was only one thing left to do now, label the victim.  |
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:29:32 GMT -8
Chapter 4: "No Ordinary Shopping Trip..."
She quickly scanned her list to make sure all her shopping was close to done.
Reagents- check
Empty bottles- check
Mortars and pestles –check
Empty kegs- check
Meet supplier at midnight –
Looking at her time piece it would be about a half hour longer before he would meet her at their usual place by the sewer entrance. Reaching into her pack she found the check for three thousand gold and a book she had picked up from the library. Well she did have thirty minutes to start reading and make some notes.
Making her way to the sewer she caught the sent of something foul. ‘Must be a giant rat that got free of the sewers that the guards roasted’ she thought to herself. The smell of burned flesh always insulted her since of smell. To her that was the cruelest way of dealing with a problem.
She drew nearer and the smell got worse. ‘The smell is too strong to be just a rat.’ The smell of vomit now mixed with the burned flesh. Scanning the area as she rounded the corner showed her the source of the smell. Lying just near the entrance of the sewer was the charred remains of a man. His skin black and crispy, his eyes wide in terror, his swollen tongue lulling from the side of his mouth; a scream silenced by death. Nessa covered her mouth drawing nearer looking the man over. His chest was torn wide open the red meat still clinging to his bare ribs. The heart had been removed from his chest; an inverted pentagram was branded upon his forehead.
‘What in the nine hells happened to this man?’ There were foot steps coming from the distance it had to be her supplier and he would reach her with in the next few minutes. She thought quickly ‘For sure he will see this corpse and think that I did this, I have to get rid of the body quickly’ She looked for a spot to get rid of the body. Drawing upon her strength she lifted the body dropping it through the opening to the sewer.
The bodies limp arm dropped as she raised it a number was burned into the flesh 0 3 1 1 3. Putting the number to memory she would find Marcus, Azrael or Lael and tell them of this horrifying scene. For now she had to compose herself, meet with her supplier then get to Istas as quickly as possible.
“Ahh hello madam, I bring fer ye a gift.” A thick accented voice came from behind her, whirling around she quickly smiled her inviting smile.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:29:47 GMT -8
Marcus had left not long before, Xander after comforting Lael had headed back to the Rift in Moonglow. Lael felt someone approach her haven, she moved to the window and saw it was Nessa mounting the stairs. Lael opened the door for the woman with a smile and in greeting said, "welcome to my parlor". The immediate look on Nessa's face told Lael it wasn't a social call... Nessa blinked repeatedly, stammered as she entered and Lael took her hand guiding her to a seat, "whats wrong Nessa?" Lael asked as the women sat beside each other, Lael holding Nessa's hand for comfort.
Drawing a flask from her jacket, Nessa sipped it as she described the scene she just came from. Nessa told Lael of the body she'd found and what had been done to it, repeating several times, "Marcus said we were safe..." Gently Lael asked what Nessa had done with the corpse, learning it had been rolled into the sewers, Lael immediately contacted Efanor from her mind, the young Grey Elf who was always silent unless actively engaged in something answered quietly, repeated back the instructions and left to do her will. Still listening to Nessa the two woman then spoke of retainers and the safest place for Nessa to stay. Lael offered the west room to Nessa, knowing there were five other people living in Runescape along with nine retained wolf sentinels to keep those in her haven safe. As Lael showed Nessa around to the craft room, and the guest room a thought played in her mind... "How long before we have to call them all in, to protect them in the city?" Once Nessa was settled, Lael sought out Ilharn, there were too many things playing through her mind for her to sleep with out the focus, and comfort he could give.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:30:27 GMT -8
Chapter 5: "Safety..." She watched him sleep her mind turning from their earlier conversation. She would talk to her father about the idea Marcus had had. She could commune with the dead there has to be a way to do this without the Baali knowing what she was doing. Sliding out of the bed she pulled a chair next to the fire reaching for the sketch book watching his face in the fire light. Her hands moved slowly, making outlines. It had been years since she drew anything. She wasn't that great of an artist, but having to draw out diagrams for experiments. Her hand began to work quickly as she watched him, his hair covering his eyes just slightly. She grinned to herself thinking back to the few meeting they had had. She had noticed him once a long time ago, he was on the arm of Ariana. She had heard through the winds that he was even going to marry her. It was sad that they had both been through the same things in their unlife. They both considered the same man as a father. There was so much in common why had it taken so long for them to meet? He had given her black roses, an ear to listen to her concerns. Now she cared for him deeply and worried that something would happen to him. She knew it was his position in the clan to hunt down any threats. This was a big threat. One to them and one to the mortals, the ones that some of the clan called friends and the retainers. Looking down to the sketch pad her hand had stopped the picture complete. Marcus was sleeping soundly she could sense the the sun was soon going to rise. She would send a letter to her father, to ask for the meeting. To request to be able to see him and explain some things and ask for his guidance. Walking to the windows she drew the heavy curtains to keep the sun out. Her barefeet padding along the wooden floor, she laid the sketch on the table by the fireplace. Then quietly and gently she crawled into bed laying on her side facing the fireplace watching the fire bounce and dance. Fire was used by the enemy, he had to be stopped before he hurt any that she loved and cared about. He ...had to be stopped. Marcus rested his arm pulling her closer to her a quiet growl escaping from his lips.  |
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:30:47 GMT -8
Chapter 6: "Looking for Clues"
Laeldril paced the halls of Runescape the predator in her stalking answers, thoughts of the murders being torn apart every possible variable stripped from them to find any detail she had missed. In hushed tones she talked to herself, “three days… nothing.” At least there were no new victims either she thought as she continued to pace. Lael had spent the past three evenings in Yew, Trinsic and Britain listening to the night crowds, prowling the shadows for any word on the monks, people missing them, any details of their lives that may be an indication as to why they were chosen by the Baali. Someone you would think would have missed them, someone talking of not seeing so and so since the night of the first murder. So far nothing, not a word on who the victims were, their lifestyles or possible reasons for their deaths; Laeldril was growing tired of the cold trail she followed. Xander had not reported finding anything on the woman either from Vesper, how could six people be viciously murdered and no one even notice they were missing? Something had to give…
The call was quiet but clear in Laeldril’s mind when it came, “I need to speak with you my daughter…” came Valas’ voice in her mind, “where can I meet you?” she answered and started out her door, Lael knew her Sire would be in front of his hearth. “I am at the manor,” Valas responded; if nothing else Laeldril knew that of her sire. Laedril approached his haven and knocked gently at the door, entering when she heard his call. Valas lead her to the hearth and the elven chairs they often shared when they spoke. Laeldril hadn’t expected her sire’s words; “I am leaving for the old lands, to re hone my skills for a time…” In her mind flared the words, “leaving now!” Keeping her voice calm Lael began to ask questions to learn more of his decision, in doing so she remembered Valas was not present at the Clan meeting where the Baali was explained. After getting a few details Lael asked him, “You are aware to the dangers brought about by the Baali, are you not?” When Valas looked to her puzzled it was clear he was not informed. Later Lael felt she had been rather blunt and cold, but the truth was, if the situation turned into a crises the Clan needed every hand they had, it was not a time for Valas to be leaving rendering his haven vulnerable if the Clan became targets for this monster.
Walking back to Runescape Laeldril was going over the numbers that seemed to label the past three victims, passing the library it donned on her that perhaps Atalantia the City Librarian might be familiar with the numbers or have some insight into them. Mounting the stairs Laeldril found Ata sitting in the study hall on the top floor. Smiling Atalantia asked, “is this a social call?” Laeldril smiled back and shook her head; “I am working a case I would like to get your insight on part of.” Lael said softly. “What kind of case?” Ata asked, and Lael replied with a single word, “murders.” “I would like you to look into the occurrence of the following numbers, let me know if you are familiar with them or have observed them before.” After asking that Atalantia keep the details to herself; Laeldril then told her of the numbers on the bodies without giving details of the murders other than that they were on the victims’ right arms. Atalantia repeated the numbers back and said the only thing that came to mind is that the next in order would be 0..4..1..1..3, the same conclusion Azrael had made. Atalantia said she would keep them in mind and let Lael know if she thought of anything, but the numbers were not significant to her from her reading or studies. Lael spoke a while longer with Atalantia before leaving, still hoping something may trigger some recognition about the numbers soon.
Reaching her chambers at Runescape Laeldril stared at her desk, there were several case folios lying there, Everthorne, Silverwood, the Freehold… The Rift in Moonglow needed attention, it had been quiet too long with no changes, and no further sightings of the shadowlords only their ethereal forms. The Baali file sat aside from the rest, it had been her main focus for the past two weeks, but as Essess other duties also needed her attention. Donning her leathers and taking to the shadows, Laeldril made for the moongate in Umbra, a patrol of the factions she watched may help clear her mind, or at least tell her they had been successful in keeping the Baali’s butchery out of the public eye.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:31:12 GMT -8
Turmoil of Thought
I was sitting and reading through the books Nessa had recently given me for the library, when Laeldril quietly sifted out from the shadows in the chair next to me. My thoughts were both on the books and other personal matters, so I did not even notice her until she spoke. "Sataa Atalantia" and smiled briefly as I looked up. I smiled back and closed the book after noting my place, "Good evening Laeldril. Sorry I didn't hear you come in, I was reading Nessa's poem."
Laeldril was wanting to see if I could help her with some references to the Baali as it was being referred to. She told me there had been three victims so far and each with a label. With promises not even to tell Valas, she told me that the label was always placed on the right arm.
"Well other than the obvious fact that the first two numbers seem to be in sequence and the next will be 04, 05 and so on, I can't really see anything about them. You said all the victims were mortals so maybe if someone or something else was killed the last three would be different. That is all I can think of offhand. How were they killed?" The question was asked out of a mixture of curiosity and to see if more details might show up something that only having the numbers did not." However, I looked up sharply as Laeldril told me, "I can't tell you that. I can't give out those details, the Seti will when he feels the clan is ready."
"Well, I doubt I will be able to help you then." I said, my tone even and matter of fact. "I've told you all I can think of on the numbers and without any other reference its very unlikely I will find anything in references. I'll keep thinking on it, but.." I shrugged, "numbers are not something I do much with." She thanked me and left and I sat back down and opened the book without looking at it. How was I supposed to help without being "allowed" any information? First the sects of both myself and my mate dissolved and how I find out is to walk into a clan meeting and find my seat gone and my desk back, and now I'm not allowed to know information. Not trusted to know it? Do they think I am going to announce it to everyone? Be so upset I will lock myself in the basement and never come out? I looked down where I was crumpling a page of the poem, carefully smoothed it back out and closed the book.
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I was feeding the fish the next night when Valas came into the library. I looked up and smiled at him. I always like how he looks at me, but tonight concern was mixed with that look. "I had been going to leave a bit for some more training in fighting, but I need to stay now. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."
"Do you think things will be trouble for us here then? I did speak with Laeldril a bit last night." My tone was fairly neutral, but this was one of the things I had been thinking about since my talk with Laeldril the night before. I was a bit pleased he felt that strongly for me.
"I don't know." he answered, "but I'd prefer it if you stay in a place I know of in the old lands. It will be safer for you there since its not known." These words broke the constraint I had had in place on some feelings since the night before. They made me even a bit angry at him.
I looked up at him steadily, "Then perhaps you should move into the library because you can prefer all you want, but I am staying here."
He looked as though he would say more, but just then I heard my Mother call to me telepathically. "I need to go, the Setess wants to see me now." I told Valas and I turned to walk down the stairs.
"I talked with her earlier myself, I did mention you seemed a bit upset with the dissolution of your sect." he said.
"I guess I know what this is about then." and I headed for the door with Valas close behind me in a protective escort that I ignored. My thoughts were on the upcoming conversation. I wasn't really upset about the action with the sects, not like Valas had been, but it did still bother me. Not being trusted by my own mate to know my actions and my safety bothered me. Does everyone really think I need to be kept like a doll or child? Maybe I should be more specific one day on just exactly what kind of creature I called mother for my first nineteen years. I was keeping myself shielded as best I could. I did not want to be broadcasting these thoughts and feelings to mate and sires until I had sorted them out.
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I tapped on the door before just walking in. Azrael was also there with Zendra and I greeted both with a polite "Good evening" and they both greet me back, Zendra indicating I should sit. She explains she wants to speak with me about the dissolution of my sect since her conversation with Valas. I say I know since I had also just spoken with Valas and that really I'm fine with having more time to study again. I am not really sure how to explain to them and I don't think I did it well. "You do realize this was not so much a demotion, as the sect was simply dissoved?" Zendra says "You were not replaced."
I shrug, "Nor would I have been. It's not exactly a demotion, true but it is a change in status that does not seem entirely positive?" Zendra explains her reasons for the change, that the titles has become empty and more insulting to keep them than to disband them alltogether. That I am nothing less than I was before. It's all true but logic and feelings do not always work together and I am still keeping a tight control on my feelings espeically towards the end of the conversation as she says "trusted by us both, and expected to be an example to this clan. Especially in this situation, you must act with grace and dignity. You would not have been initially put in the position if you did not have the Seti's and my own confidence."
I know everything she says is right, its all reasonable, it all makes sense but this grates across everything I have been thinking on, especially the last couple of evenings. "Your thoughts my daughter?" Zendra says
"It is all reasonable." I answer, not sure how much they can or can not sense from me at the moment, but then my feelings well up over the brink of my control and I start in, my tone growing a bit hotter as I speak.
"I talked to Lael last night. I have a puzzle with information I am not allowed to have. Valas wants me to move out of the way until all this is past. And I find myself just a librarian again. Everything is in a bit of a muddle for me right now."
Zendra and Azrael immediatly want to know why and where he wants me to go. I explain he is trying to be protective and just thinks I'll be safer somewhere else. Zendra states simply that I will be safer here than anywhere else and I agree with her. " I have similar frustrations." I say at the end of that discussion and look to Azrael pointedly. "Of course it doesn't help being asked for information and then when I ask questions being told I can't be trusted with the answers. Not knowing if the further information would even help or not, because the Seti will divulge it if he feels like it." For the first time I get a sense of feeling, of understanding. Maybe I didn't before simply because I was shielding my own self that hard.
" I will answer your questions, all you need to do is ask." Azrael tells me as he sits and looks over to me. I tell him what Laeldril did tell me and add "That is all that might be pertinant, but details when your trying to look things up sometimes come together. If it is a math problem, then many are better suited to it than I."
"We talk about the numbers and the thoughts I expressed to Laeldril the other night. He gives me more details about the deaths. How they were killed, how the symbol was left was etched into their foreheads, how they all had their hearts taken and how none of them seem to be related in any way we have found out about. I also learn there were other deaths and how Azrael is sure it is the Baali that commited them all. "I wonder if the labelled ones mean something to the killer somehow then or if they are leading up to something. It could be as simple as he has a certain number of people he hates and is killing them and it will end when they are all dead."
"That would be a conclusion, logical in its reasoning, but I have ruled it out. The Baali are ritualists of a very high caliber. It would not go to all this trouble, simply to kill something it did not like. Great care is being devoted to preparing each body. Ritualists only devote care like this, to a ritual.
I nod, remembering my own birth mother's rituals. "Would they be specific to the Balli, or a ritural that might have been around before?" I ask.
Azrael explain that rituals all seem to have similar patterns. That regardless of the symbolism used to create the energy and spells and says there might be a similar ritual somewhere that could give us a clue. I think of my birth mother's books and notes. "I can look into Her", the word always comes out with a tone of dislike, "books and notes. They are not in good condition but something might make a connection if I can decipher enough of it. She had alot of dealings with deamons."
My thoughts have turned to the puzzle of the Baali, but my feelings have eased during the conversation. With my own shielding tuned down I can feel more from them. I might not be sanguine about the sects situation still, but at least my other worries now seem unfounded and actually a bit embarrassing. I look up to them both. "I'll leave you both tonight then, and let you know if I happen to get any ideas." I smile as I stand to go and this time its genuine as I thank my parents and bid them goodnight.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:31:49 GMT -8
I sat back, my eyes briefly clouded by the dust and then coughed as I make the mistake of taking a breath. Shoving the notes aside in disgust, I rub at my eyes and then lean on the desk. Nothing that was readable in those notes matches anything here well enough. Plenty of uses for pentagrams.. even plenty of uses for removing hearts... but nothing that really gave any ideas.
I write all three of the numbers down and just stare at them. Assuming that the 01, 02, 03 are a sequence I pull them out and that leaves only 113. A label of the type of kill? I try writing it backwards. 311 maybe it isn't numbers but a symbol? I take the paper and hold it sideways, upsidedown and even at an angle before putting it back on the desk and just staring bleakly at it. A symbol would have made sense. Everything here seems full of symbolism after talking to Azrael, so this obviously has to mean something...
I doodle a pentagram on the paper by the number, and a heart, both things that came up in the notes frequently since my birth mother delt often in demonic rituals. I make a few other markings I had seen in her notes and the number l3, which also turned up alot. That catches my attention and I turn back to the number... 0lll3... 01 is the number of the victim we think, what if the 13 is also a number by itself? 0l l l3. So one one thirteen, or 01/13 in meaning? A mark of separation?
I never actually saw the numbers to see how they were written out, but this might be something to point out to Azrael and Laeldril.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:32:09 GMT -8
Chapter 8: Of Monks and Men - Part One
There was only one place left to seek answers in Lael’s mind, The Abbey in Yew as not a favourite place to visit, but as long as she avoided the altar room she could feign comfort in the building. A refined woman would not be out too late after dark so preparations needed to begin the morning before. Laeldril would sleep through the day and head out soon as the sunset and she awoke. Sol made no compromise in his presence; sleep crept up on Lael as he approached the horizon, becoming more and more demanding as he crested it bringing on the day. Lael’s morning ritual of heat and colour to remember the beauty of Sol’s arrival would have to be forfeited today to dye her hair and dress for the evening ahead. Lael summoned Efanor, of anyone in her pack; Efanor filled the role of non-threatening assistant, one she appreciated very much. Efanor was the only man she knew who didn’t feel anything for her outside his unswayable devotion and loyalty. In preparing for a role as Essess, Efanor was called on to dye her hair, bind her chest, paint her skin then later help wash it all off. “This one hears and obeys…” was his response always.
Tonight Laeldril donned the guise of Paedoewyn, refined, well mannered and well dressed. With soft coal hair, and powdered coal coloured skin to reflect a grey elf rather than her drow heritage. Lael laid against the edge of the tub as Efanor worked the dye into her hair, later she would have him shave it off and allow a days rest with her vampiric regeneration to re-grow her long silver-white main. Once dry Efanor wove Laeldril’s hair into a herringbone braid down to her waist. Lael dressed in the ice blue skirt and elven blouse Efanor had laid out and carefully laid in her bed to rest the day, unmoving so she would be in perfect, unwrinkled order when Sol set and she could head to the Abbey in Yew. When Laeldril awoke, a goblet and decanter of vitae waited on her desk with a rune to Yew and a stack of freshly scribed recall scrolls. Efanor she could sense was fast asleep; however his thoughtfulness would see her through the night.
Laeldril recalled into Yew, then road horseback to the Abbey, tying her mount up outside near the vineyard she went inside to find someone in charge. Entering what looked like a private library, Laeldril cleared her throat gently to attract the attention of an elderly priest standing at the bookshelves with his back to her. Bracing herself for when he turned around, Lael exhaled relieved that the priest was not adorned with any symbols of his faith. A simple raw linen cassock tied at the waist with a thin rope was all he wore. Softly Laeldril introduced herself, speaking to the priest in slow patient tones, explaining that she was looking for a monk she had been in contact with, to make a donation to his order. Father Ashelton listened to Lael’s description and nodded after a moment saying, “you mean Father Harron?” Father Ashelton went on to explain that the monk had been missing over a week now and they in the Abbey were a little concerned. Laeldril and the priest spoke for a short while, the priest explaining that Father Harron had left the Abbey in the past year and lived in a shack on the outskirts of Britain near the crossroads between Yew and Skara Brae. Father Ashelton was only too pleased to accept the donation from the young grey elf, and said that he would make note to let her know if anything turned up about Father Harron, should she visit him again…
Lael mounted and rode out of Yew before recalling to her safe house on Occlo. There she cropped her hair short and dressed in her leathers taking to the shadows to find Father Harron’s shack. Laeldril recalled to the moongate in Umbra then used the gate to travel to Britain on the Trammel facet and began her search for the shack. A little after midnight Lael entered a shack left silent in the night, no light from candles, no heat in the cool spring evening, no sound separating it from the other similar homes in the area. Lael’s drow eyes let her search the shack in the dark, a small cot with a single wool blanket, a single table in the corner with stool, no chair with any back or arms in the shack. A small coffer at the foot of the bed contained a well-worn Monk’s cassock and a pair of worn out sandals. The remains of some bread being shared by two mice and a half-empty bottle of cheap wine lay set on the table. Finally Laeldril lifted the mattress and found underneath a small leather folio. Inside the folio a ledger along with bank statements from the Bank of Britain with the monk’s name on them told Lael she had indeed found the right shack. The ledger showed the monk as having collected a sizable income and who knew what the small key in the bottom of the folio would reveal. Laeldril collected the items together and cloaked in shadows left the shack and headed home. Once cleaned up Lael could go over the information more closely, and prepare for rest and another night in disguise.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:32:27 GMT -8
Chapter 8: Of Monks and Men - Part Two
Laeldril sat on the edge of the tub, hugging her knees to her chest, resting her forehead to her knees as Efanor combed out her wet hair. She felt him bind it at the base of her neck, felt the blade slice off the gathered hair, smelled the repugnant odor of it burning in the brazier he set up in the bathroom. Slowly he worked his hands over her scalp cropping the hair short before taking the straight edged razor and shaving the last of the soft coal locks from her head. Once done Efanor massaged her skin with oils scented with benzoin and juniper; he then tied the red silk scarf around her bald head, as he always did. Efanor bid her good day and left her as she entered her room, smiling Laeldril saw the goblet of vitae on her desk, the sliced pear for her to smell and her silk robe lying across the foot of her bed. Slipping the robe around her she cupped the goblet in both hands sipping it as she looked over the files on her desk. The vitae was delicate on her tongue, not so sweet almost calming like a warm cup of tea; it was what she came to expect when Efanor was summoned to assist her… If she thought about it further she would have realized her soft spoken grey elf assistant provided more than his time and effort, but his lifes blood to her, maintaining the masquerade, keeping her fed at home.
Laeldril sifted through the bank receipts and ledger, since leaving the abbey it seems Father Harron was doing Virtues work collecting tithes and donations for his Order and depositing them safely in his own account in Britain. The longer he was away from the abbey the greater a percentage he kept for himself. Laeldril picked up the key and turned it over in her hand. Instinct told her it was to a deposit box at the bank, she would go at dusk and find out what the good monk was keeping locked away. “The saintly bugger’s fallen from grace…” Laeldril said to herself smiling as Dez tapped her on the shoulder wanting to come out and play. Dez was a role Lael loved, she was the most fun to play. “Bet breads better than gold to the Gov., wouldn’t want share the wealth ta get ‘is work done.” A grin crossed Lael’s face, Efanor almost bristled when he assisted her dressing to play Dez, the one role that almost created and emotional response. Spiked hair, nickers, tight shirt and short boots, Dez’s jargon and effervescence was either loved or hated; her personality was extreme and never allowed for any middle of the road response. Todays rest and regeneration would set her right to prepare for becoming Dez later.
Laeldril entered the Bank of Britain as darkness had fallen completely. Activating her ability to read aura’s she studied the bank tellers choosing one who reflected a sense of guilt, his furtive eyes and body language made him look like he had something to hide. As Dez, Lael walked up to the teller pulling the key from her pack on her shoulder and requested the box it belonged to. The tellers face tightened, he looked from Dez to the key and back again before whispering, “he doesn’t usually send a woman,” the teller eyed Dez curiously waiting for a response. “Gurls gotta eat too Gov. the Father’s been right saintly in sharing ‘is bread with me; ‘e’s got a warm blanket on a cold night too. Least I can do is getta wiggle on and run an errand or two for ‘im.” Dez rolled her eyes at the teller, who hesitated a moment longer then nodded before directing her to the back room and fetched the box.
Leaving Lael alone in the room with the box, she turned the key and looked inside. Lael’s eyes widened seeing what Father Harron had stashed away, heirlooms, coins from various cities, there must have been a decent fortune in tithes people had made, thinking they were going to his Order and not his bank box. Shaking her head, the death of Father Harron didn’t seem as much of a loss knowing he was not as pristine as his Order would have believe. It still was very urgent to stop the Baali, no matter who he killed ignorance, speculation, and fear could direct retribution from the masses on the Clan. Laeldril closed the box, locking it and returning it to the teller. “Cheerio Gov.,” she said brightly heading on her way. Lael walked the streets a few blocks then rounded a corner into an alley and took the shadows to leave the city. Her mind wandered to Xander and his pursuit of the female victim he found. There had to be a connection some how, something to give them a trail to follow. Back at Runescape Laedril dressed in her black cotton Neijia uniform, meditation would help her sort the information she learned and decide on a course of action.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:32:47 GMT -8
Chapter 9: Paper Effigies.
The rain poured in a steady sheet over the rooftops of the city of Vesper. No lightning, no thunder, …just the steady pouring of the rain. Native Vesperan’s called the rainy season simply “the wet” because nothing could stay dry during the springtime torrents. It soaked into the clothes, into the skin, and into the soul of everyone in northeastern region and port town. The soft glow of the city of Vesper could be seen in the distance almost a mile from the high bough of a tree limb where Xander Rayne perched.
He wore a skin tight leather suit specially made for him a few years ago. The thieves guilds called it a “katjatti” or cat suit. The leather was soft and form-fitting against the lightly muscled frame of his body, with sewn in specially constructed pouches, near seamless, and of deep coal color. Made for ease of movement in the shadows, rather than devoted to protection, the suit covered Xander’s body from the top of his neck, down to his feet, where he wore an equally thin pair of split-toed leather boots, whose padded soles were woven over and over in webbing stitches on their interior, in the design of the Tokunese tabi to distribute weight so that silence could be maintained in all movement.
Xander leaned to his right leg testing his weight on the bone and muscle that had , nearly two weeks prior, been freshly set after snapping. He smiled slightly, and brushed his dark hair from where it stuck wetly to his face, behind his ear. Bloodhealing was by far one of the most extraordinary of his newfound powers as a retainer. His reagent had taught him to use the technique only a few hours after he received the injury, and what should have taken weeks to heal was healed in moments. So much had changed in these past months, coming to Istas, and he learned daily the secrets of blood from his vampiric benefactors.
The strangest dichotomy of his retained stasis was that he would be ageless, yet still very much alive, though he enjoyed the idea of never receiving The Embrace, and becoming Kindred. Life was far too precious a thing to young Mr. Rayne, to give it up. His thoughts brought him to his reason for being in this moment.
It had been a week since his discovery of the second body left by the Baali beneath the southernmost entrance bridge to Vesper. A week of searching, and paying for information in the thriving underworld that operated in the nighttime streets of the rogue city. Her name was Julia, and she was a prostitute. Twenty-five years of age, with no surviving relatives. Xander had been discreet in his inquiries, but it seemed that none really missed the young woman…just another “unfortunate” gone missing, in a city of hundreds. The closet of a room in which she lived, contained nearly nothing; a bedroll, one spare dress, and a few meager belongings. But under her bedroll, Xander had noticed a footboard was loose. He had opened and investigated the contents of the compartment and discovered a small cache of jewelry and gems, one that was very out of place considering her profession and squalid living environment. Along with the gold and gems, there was a signet ring belonging to a Noble house, one of the few that ruled over the Vesper region.
He could have filed his report to the Essess, he already had discovered the facts about her life and who she was, but the ring ,made him curious. Why did she have it? Where did the small fortune she hid away come from?
Xander peered through the heavy rain, to the soft glow of the gatehouse a hundred yards from the tree in which he now perched. It was nearing midnight, and the guard would be changing soon, he knew, as he squinted to try to catch a glimpse of the Manor house that lay beyond the wall. The ring he carried in a small pouch at his hip belonged to a Count Benjilistus II…though Xander couldn’t understand why after the tragedy of his grandparents naming his father “Benjilistus”, it had in turn been inflicted upon his son as well. Noble families never seemed the brightest of population. The thought brought a brief grin to the young thief’s lips.
One hundred yards, two guards, thirty seconds for shift change…his mind began to prowl the numbers involved in making it within…ten foot wall, thirty yards to the manor house…three story climb to the only window he had not seen movement behind during his dwindling daylight hours of reconnaissance…his answers to the puzzle of Julia’s life lie within.
He saw the flicker of the dim glow of lamplight bob a moment and then move, the shift change was occurring soon…and in a flash he was down the tree weaving his way to the foot of the gatehouse window. He paused, with his back against the wall below it’s windowsill, and slid a small mirror with a twig thin handle from a thin sheath, sewn in, on the leather sleeve of his forearm. Carefully he lifted the mirror to the lip of the windowsill, angling it so that he could dimly see through the pouring rain, two shapes greeting two more at small wooden door on the far side of the one room gatehouse.
The rain would be on his side, obscuring his movements, and diminishing any sound.
Xander stepped foot over foot, still crouched, down the length of the wall, tucking the mirror back into its sheath, and peered around the corner discreetly.
Again he was off in a flash, like a cat slipping through the rain, and toward the gate. The large opening of the gatehouse window on the side he was currently moving was unmanned as the guards within exchanged greetings and goodbyes in the midst of the change. Xander pressed himself flatly to the old stone, within a small triangle of shadow nearest where the gatehouse and wall met.
He breathed in slowly and closed his eyes, feeling the droplets of rain running down his face, and used the dull roar all around him to focus his mind once more. He opened his deep sapphire blue eyes slowly and crouched before leaping up and turning in mid jump to let the tips of his fingers catch the lip of the top of the wall, carefully and easily pulling his body up. Xander laid atop the wall for a moment, eyes scanning the grounds and then rolled off its narrow width, landing in a somersault and rolling to his feet behind a small hedge on the wall’s interior, and again paused, peering through the rain for any sign of movement. His eyes prowled the yard coming to rest on the long pipe acting as a rain gutter release running down the length of the brickwork of the house, near a side corner.
“Nobles have really never been the brightest of the populace.” He muttered, smiling once more. In moments he had crossed the yard, and was climbing the pipe, using his feet pressed to the brick, and his hands gripping the piping brackets firmly as leverage against the wet surface. It took only a few minutes of careful climbing to make it to the shadowed window ledge of the room he had marked in his mind as an entry point, and only a few more moments to slide a thin metal tool between the window panes, lifting the latching hooks within. The roar of the rain dulled considerably as he closed the window, and used the inside surface of the drapes to dry himself as best he could before moving into the dim room.
It was a large office, with a fireplace not in use to one side, and a dark oak bankers desk with several drawers and compartments sitting near the window. Carefully Xander slipped his thin reading glasses on, and touched their earpiece, activating an enchantment that parted the darkness of the room, giving the illusion of light and allowing him to see.
Nearly fifteen feet above him hung large yew wood rafters, with several iron candle chandeliers bracketed in place. Xander started to the desk, when he heard the distant conversation from the other side of the room’s double entry way doors. He froze, lowering the glasses so that his eyes would be drowned in darkness once more, and beneath the inch high space under each door he could see light, growing brighter as the two speaking approached.
“Son-of-a” – but Xander’s mind didn’t have time to complete the thought as the door began to open. In a quick hop Xander bounded to the desk, toes catching the edge and vaulted up with one leg. His arms wrapped tightly around the support beam rafter ten feet above the desks surface, and had just enough time to curl his legs up and around before the two men walked into the room, candlelight rolling softly in a wide radius around them.
One was a younger man, dressed in light studded leathers, with a longsword strapped to his side. The other man, who’s girth was nearly that of his height wore a long striped sleeping robe. Xander froze, pressed to the beam, and closed his eyes, hoping neither had the mental fortitude to look up.
The younger of the two, in leather armor, spoke first as he closed the door behind him.
“We’ve searched everywhere, still no trace of her in nearly a week my Count.”
The Count grumbled and sat the candle on the desk before saying flatly, “she must be found, if she goes to the council, or worse…” his words trailed off, but were finished by the younger man, “The Countess.”
Count Benjilistus nodded gravely, turning to the young man. “My Wife would have my head. And Im tired of squandering my finances on the little harlot to keep her mouth shut.”
The younger man nodded a bit, and asked curiously, “Why did you tell a street whore, not only that you would kill your wife, and marry her, …but also describe how you plan to dispense with your brethren making your rise to Dukedom certain?”
The Count grimaced and sighed, as Xander arched a brow, and leaned his head down, arching his neck to watch the two beneath him.
Benjilistus grumbled a bit more and said low, “ I would have done anything , told her…anything.” To which he added quickly “she must be found! And when you find her, silence her.”
The younger man sighed and rubbed his temple nodding, “We’ll send out another patrol into the city again in an hour or so. I’ll go with them this time, to make certain there’s nothing they’re overlooking.”
“Good, and while you’re out, I’ll need a new one, so find something young, and pretty…”, the Count said with a terrible grin. The younger man winced and simply nodded a bit, before turning on his heel and heading back through the double doors.
Xander frowned above him in disgust, and then blinked as his eyes widened, feeling the bead of sweat roll down his brow to the tip of his nose, hanging precariously for a moment before beginning its slow plummet to the top of the Count’s head.
Xander held tightly to the rafter with one arm, as his other hand shot out in silence, fingers curling around the descending droplet just before it had fallen out of reach.
The young thief held his breath, frozen in place…moments seeming like hours as he waited vulnerably on the rafter for what was sure to be his discovery.
The Count frowned and looked around the room as though something was out of place, and young Mr. Rayne watched in fear of being caught. Nobles didn’t tend to ask questions before having their guards explain with their blades the folly of intrusion.
Despite his scowl the Count seemed satisfied after a moment, and turned as well taking the candle with him, back through the doors. Xander exhaled shakily, waiting several minutes before carefully lowering himself from the rafter, and dropping in catlike silence to the floor.
He had much to report now, and there was much more to this victim than he had thought. It always took less time to leave an infiltration than it did to actually get in, and in less than half an hour Xander was stepping through an opened gate far outside the streets of Vesper to the ice swept city of Istas.
He frowned, making his way quickly into the museum, and locking the door behind him.
How long before the Baali took notice of those cleaning up after him? How long before this city and its inhabitants were the next on the list of victims…?
Julia had been much more affluent in the workings of the underworld politics than Xander had previously imagined. Did her bribery, blackmail, and extortion have something to do with the Baali choosing her?
Flashes of memory filled Xander’s mind. Julia’s body drifting away in smoke and ash.
None would remember her, …but he would carry the image of her corpse consumed in flames he created for the rest of his life.
Xander sighed, closing the door of his upstairs office, and grabbed a towel to dry his face and hair, before staring blankly at the parchment that would carry his report to the Essess. He sat in the chair at his desk, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.
Lives reduced to parchment, murder reduced to words…
And in this moment, he had none.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:33:11 GMT -8
Chapter 10: Family and Learning
Walking through the snow she was not even cold; she made her way through the maze of building to the one nearest the back. Father was home she could tell; now just to find him in the many rooms of his sanctuary. She made her way up the stairs; looking to the doors in front of her she knocked on the center one waiting on the word to go in.
Opening the door she spied her father standing looking to a map upon the wall. His gaze was intent as if waiting for something to jump out at him. She stood there watching him not wishing to interrupt his train of thought.
“Hello Father” Speaking quietly her eyes watching him.
“Sataa Dathir” he turned smiling slightly looking at her.
His eyes glowing a bright silver; she stepped around the desk to stand in front of him her veil being removed as she had entered his office. He placed his hands on her hips before looking her over smiling. He pulled her into a hug and she hugged him in return. They exchanged pleasantries; but it was time for why she was there. She exhaled slowly; taking her time to arrange her thoughts. Her father watched her sensing there was something she wished to speak of.
“Father there is a reason I came to speak to you tonight.” She smiled her innocent smile.
“There always is a reason for you to visit; you don’t come for a visit otherwise.” He grinned to her.
“I want to help father with the Baali, I know there is not much that I can really do; but I would like to speak to the spirits of the victims.” She looked to him searching his face for a sign of approval.
“I was thinking the same thing.” He spoke softly.
He told her what she would need and to speak to Lael and Marcus and see if any of them would have something of a personal nature from each victim to use. She knew she would see Marcus tonight. Warm emotions flooded through her; love, longing, desire, and passion.
Her fathers gaze was once more upon the map, grinning she looked to the map her mind on other things for a moment jokingly she remarked to him about Marcus being able to focus when she was present. He took it seriously and was a bit unnerved. Nessa had wished she could just melt into the floor and get away at that point in time.
Trying to distract him from her playfulness and joking manor she looked back to the map. She had hurt her father some how by trying to lighten the mood. She asked questions about the attacks where the victims had been found and where the first attack had been. She saw no pattern, and could find no logic, she had a hard time thinking like a killer even though naturally now she should be one. She had only fed three times in her unlife off of a living mortal. How would she ever make a childe if she feared feeding from anyone? He mind had wondered, she wanted to be the smart one and figure out the next clue, get them one step ahead. But she was just a scribe, alchemist and had knowledge of the magicks, she had the ability to speak to the spirits as well. That would be her strength this time; that is where she would be able to help.
Leaving her fathers she head back home to see if Marcus had woken up yet and to tell him everything that Father had told her would be needed before he would show her what she needed to do to summon the spirits of the victims.
The night would be long but she would still have to work fast to get the things she needed.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:33:39 GMT -8
Chapter 11: The game begins.
Kraven dropped the body to the ground with a thud, scowling to himself slightly. It was late at night, near an entrance to the Britain sewers. A feeling of worry was starting to crawl into Kraven’s mind. It had been some time since he started his gruesome murders, and yet someone, or something, had been managing to cover his tracks. The townsfolk were obviously ignorant of his work, they went about their daily business as normal without the slightest gossip of murder. Perhaps the guards had been finding the bodies, keeping it wrapped up so as not to worry the public? No… The patrols would have increased enormously by now if the royal guard were aware of the killings. Something supernatural was trailing him, covering up every murder. Kraven decided it was time to find out who, or what, was flattering him with this kind of devoted attention.
Kraven kneeled next to the body and carved the usual pentagram into the victim’s forehead. Next he withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and read over it carefully.
“Make the pick up from the Britain sewers entrance. Then bring the product to me at the abandoned outpost on the south-east end of town.”
Kraven nodded slowly and placed the paper in the victim’s right hand. Kraven then gripped the victim’s forearm, just a few inches below the wrist. Squeezing tightly, Kraven forced a reflex on the dead body, the pressure causing it to grip the paper tightly, as though the dead individual had been clutching it at the moment of death.
Kraven pulled out his runebook as he spoke to one of his blood bonds mentally. “Get into position”.
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The small pack of hellhounds paced back and forth impatiently. Only the largest of the pack, the alpha male, and Kraven’s blood bond, sat and observed the watchtower from a distance patiently.
“Tell them to keep it down” Kraven commanded, responding to the noise of their impatient whining as he listened through a communication crystal. The gem was hanging from a piercing on the alpha males left ear, its twin grasped in Kraven’s hand at some far away location.
The alpha male turned his head back at his three lesser hounds and snarled in a low tone, the impatient creatures slowly stopping their pacing and whining with their tails between their legs. The largest hellhound jerked his head back towards the tower, a man in dark armor was approaching. The hellhound barked twice inside his mind, sending the message to Kraven without alerting the approaching suspect.
“Finally” Kraven responded. “Attack him, now.”
The hellhound barked fiercely as he jumped to his feet, bolting from the cover of the bushes and charging towards the tower with an unnatural speed, the other three following eagerly. The man turned just in time to see a ball of fire blazing towards him, and he raised his shield just quick enough for the smoldering flame to explode against the metal of his shield rather than his body. Before he could react further, the ambushers were already upon him. One of the hounds bit and jerked at his ankle as it ran by, yanking the warrior to the ground with a loud thud. In a flash, a second hound jumped onto his torso and growled down at him threateningly, boiling saliva dripped from the creature’s mouth and sizzled as it landed on the warrior’s helmet. The man stopped all movement, not daring the even flinch less the creature make a move for his throat, but still he did not cower, merely glare at the creature through his helmet.
The three other hounds circled their prey slowly, the fourth remaining on top of the warrior and threatening him with snarls and growls that no natural creature could create. The leader of the hounds approached slowly, the gem hanging from his ear echoing the sound of mild laughter.
“Tell me, who are you?” Kraven’s voice echoed from the hound’s earring as he mentally commanded the creature to move closer.
“I am Darken” the warrior responded, keeping his eyes locked on the hellhound hovering over him.
“Why are you covering the murders!?” Kraven’s voice boomed from the crystal, his voice becoming almost more daemonic than the barks and snarls of the hellhounds.
“Why are you killing those people!?” Darken snapped in response.
The hellhound upon him made a noise between a growl and a whine, impatient for the kill. The creature moved its eyes from Darken and looked to the pack leader, pleading for permission to go for the throat. As the creature made the foolish mistake to take it’s eyes off it’s prey, Darken’s right hand curled into a fist and swung at the creatures face with unnatural speed and strength. His gloved hand smashed the creature’s skull in one swing, killing the creature instantly and flinging its body yard after yard up and away from him. The creature flopped onto the ground and rolled several times before finally coming to a stop, the distorted features of what was once the creature’s head now poured crimson blood onto the ground around it.
The other hounds stood frozen in shock, unsure what to do next until Kraven’s voice shouted from the crystal. “KILL HIM, NOW!!”
Darken jumped to his feet quickly, the alpha male charging at him first. The creature leaped at him with open jaws, Darken raising his shield just fast enough for the creature to miss its mark. Rather than landing its teeth around Darken’s head, the creature landed on the shield and rebounded up and over Darken entirely, leaving a dent on his shield and landing a good distance behind him. The creature stood upright slowly, staggering from the impact against Darken’s shield.
The other two hellhounds were slower to react, and Darken already had his sword drawn when they charged in for the kill. The first leaped, its jaws flinging open much further than any natural creature could. Darken brought his sword forth quickly and speared the creature in the neck, sliding it all the way through the creatures neck. The creatures open maw lay over the warriors forearm, its dead gaze less than an arms length from Darken’s head, the intent of murder still frozen in the monster’s dead stare.
The next hound was only a second’s distance away from him, this one charging low. The creature opened its jaws as it was almost upon Darkens ankle when he brought down his shield. The tip of his metal shield cracked into the creature’s skull, stopping it dead in its tacks, literally. Although not going for something as vital as the neck, this hound had come even closer to reaching its mark than the last; it’s open jaw leaking a waterfall of blood as it sagged to the ground only a foot away from Darken’s ankle.
Darken’s eyes widened as he heard a sizzling noise behind him. He quickly turned and with the momentum, swung his sword and flung the dead hellhound from his sword and at the source of the noise.
The pack leader shot the fireball from its mouth, only to have it impact against a dead comrade. The dead hound and the orb of fire met halfway between Darken and the pack leader, the creature’s flesh igniting as the blast impacted against its dead hide, falling to the ground afterwards in a burning mass.
Darken jerked his shield free of the other dead hound and charged, the pack leader snarling furiously at him. Darken raised his sword and brought it down quickly as he closed the distance between him and the hound. In an instant, the hound rotated its head at an absurd angle and bit down on Darken’s blade, catching the warrior’s blade in its jaws. Darken’s eyes widened, blood pouring from the monsters mouth as its teeth bit down on the blade. Light reflected off the warrior’s eyes as a red glow beamed from the creature’s mouth. A sizzling noise could be heard as sparks shot out from around the sword, the metal starting to glow red-hot. The monster was getting ready to shoot another orb of flame.
Quickly, Darken raised his arm in the air, taking the sword and hellhound with it. Darken brought his hand back down with powerful force, slamming the hound against the ground. The hound yipped, the sparks and glowing becoming weaker as the creature lost focus. Darken repeated the motion, raising the hell hound high in the air then immediately flinging it back towards the ground with powerful force. The hellhound released the blade as its body smacked against the ground a second time. Darken drew his sword back, the metal still glowing red. Without hesitation, Darken thrust the blade into the creature’s flesh, a horrible howl screeching from it as the burning metal seared the creature’s flesh and organs from the inside. The monster choked and gagged, smoke and blood flowing from its mouth. Darken drew the sword back out and kicked the monster, bringing it to the ground, never to stand again.
A mock laugh echoed from the creature’s earring. “Well done…”
Darken slid the tip of his blade through the ring of the metal piecing, tearing the earring from the creatures flesh in a quick motion. Darken held his sword out in front of him, glaring at the gem hanging from the tip of his sword.
“I have worked hard to keep my nature hidden from the mortals…” Darken said in a low voice.
“So you hide from them? Mortals feed on cows and birds, but do they hide from animals? Why would you hide from something below you on the food chain?” Kraven’s voice echoed from the crystal.
“An interesting question, which makes me want to ask one as well. If you don’t think we should hide, then why aren’t you here?” Darken asked with a smirk.
“I’m not hiding from mortals.” Kraven said.
“You’re hiding from us” Darken said, the smirk still on his face. He glared downward as the pack leader made a whining noise, the daemonic beast still barely holding on to life.
“A cautious tactic that anyone with common sense would make” Kraven said.
“What you call caution others would call cowardice” Darken said just before bringing his foot down on the pack leaders skull, finishing it with the sound of a gruesome crunch.
“Call it what you will, but no respective chess player moves his king into the middle of the board. Notice that your own leaders did not come here themselves, either. We both sent someone expendable.” Kraven retorted.
“You think I’m expendable?” Darken asked with a smirk.
“I notice you didn’t deny that you do indeed have leaders, that you answer to a higher power…” Kraven asked with some amusement at his possible discovery.
“I have family” Darken responded firmly.
“You will be punished for getting in my way. By doing so you are committing crimes against the Dark Lord himself…” Kraven said darkly.
“If that is what it takes to protect my family…” Darken said.
A faint laugh echoed from the crystal. “Tell your leaders that their knight managed to kill off a few pawns, and I congratulate them. Oh, and could you clean up the mess for me? I’m sure you don’t mind.” A strange sound came from the crystal followed by silence. The crystals twin had been destroyed.
Darken glared slowly and looked around. He really did have no choice but to clean up the Baali’s minions as he had cleaned up the victim outside the sewers, left as bait. It was going to be a long night.
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Kraven glared darkly at the shattered pieces of crystal in his hand. He tilted his hand slowly pouring what was left of the gem into a brazier. Kraven made his way back to his throne, sitting in it slowly with a look of utter annoyance on his face. “Mischief, Rumor…” he called both aloud and mentally. A pair of small imps, neither of them taller than a foot high, flew into the room and landed on the desk in front of Kraven’s throne. Kraven reached into a bag near him and drew out a dead cat. The imps grinned gleefully, Mischief licking his lips and Rumor rubbing his hands together. Although effective minions when doing their job, imps were difficult creatures to control, even with a blood bond. Kraven had guaranteed the loyalty of the hellish minions by cursing them. The pair of monsters could only feed when food was given to them as a gift or reward, from their master himself. Any food acquired through other means would turn to ash in their mouths.
Kraven drew a knife from his desk and cut the cat open, slicing his own wrist next. He held his wrist out over the cat and let blood pour into it, before sliding the dead animal to his imps.
The two bite and tore flesh eagerly and Kraven healed his wrist and put the knife away. He waited until the two had reduced the animal to scarps before speaking to them.
“I have a job for you.” He said simply as the two looked at him. “My suspicions have been confirmed. Someone is indeed cleaning up after me. I want the two of you to patrol Britain and Vesper. Find out anything you can about those trailing me, and keep an eye out for our next target, as well. Come back once every two nights for your next meal. But as a warning in advance… if you come back without any information to give me, you’ll be lucky to get more than a cockroach from me as your rations.”
Rumor stood upright and saluted sharply with sarcastic respect, Mischief snickering in response to this. Kraven growled lightly and the two quickly turned, their wings fluttering like that of a bat as they flew from his presence as fast as possible, off to their next assignment.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:34:03 GMT -8
Chapter 12: Infernal Pawn
A snow flake fell past him, he looked over as it did his eyes growing sharp and clear...and then he saw it..heard it..felt it...
“No!”
The scene was something that one would imagine of a mortal version of hell.... Flames engulfed the street, body torn to shreds littered the streets and the blood glowing crimsons in the firelight. High above the city in a great tower an older man in king’s robes held a young girl down to the floor. She screamed and tried to kick him off of her, but her attempts only deepened the unnatural lust that burned in his eyes.
Above the city two creatures as old as time itself waged war. One of them glowing in flames and shining brilliant light from every aspect of it’s being. The other a stunning image of true beauty, the perfect man.
The flaming angle yelled as he beat at the fallen’s blade with his own.
The angle pushed at the fallen with all his force trying to break by his guide to reach the tower. The fallen weakly tried to hold him off his eyes showing the growing weakness from the celestial light emitting from the angelic figure before him. This couldn’t last much longer... the fallen faltered one to many times the angle slinging the rebel angle’s sword into the night sky.
He did not remember what exactly happened, but when it was over the angle lay on the city streets, its essence fading into the wind. Around him above the tower floated various figures, more of the rebellion. Someone put a hand on his shoulder, and a female voice whispered into his ear.
“You have done well..to cause this, and hold off one of the first house for so long, now gaze on your handy work, and the fall of the mortals who still follow the Host...”
They loomed there above the carnage as mortals ripped each other to shreds in the streets, all the while the screaming and sobbing of a young girl filling the air around them....
The fallen who had fought the angle looked over to the edge of the tower, a lighting bolt lighted the sky so that he could see himself in the tin siding of the structure. A face much like that of Adriel peered back.
The snow flake fell past him, and with it the image it held.
Adriel sat upon the top of Aravis's keep peering into the sky, watching as the snow fell softly around him, rays of sunlight trying to push threw the clouds. Tears ran down his face as his eyes seemed dull as if lost in thought. His wings slowly reached around him the tips looking towards him.
“What . . . have I done..” he thought to himself.
Did...what you did...and it was what was needed.
The thoughts where his own, but at the same time seemed different, more cryptic and old, he knew that it was his power and heritage speaking.
It was hard, and difficult. Aravis had ordered him not to speak of himself in two different forms demonic and human, and of course he obeyed, still at times his own thoughts seemed not his own. It was getting easier though, each day he felt as if the two blended into each other more and more, as his past slowly reentered his memories.
He had received orders to hunt down and destroy the Baali. A creature that worshiped an drew power from his kin. A creature that more then likely knew more about what he really was then himself. More importantly a creature that threatened Aravis and the other of the clan. But still...
“How can I defeat something like this...”
The same way you defeated the things in the past... it is not a demon..just a puppet, burn it, rip it, dominate it..make it know fear...then take it for yourself...
Adriel shook his head looking down at the roof he sit on.
“I will take it back to the elders as ordered.”
If I take it under my own control though, enslave it, it could force its master’s name from it, and find it...and devour it...isnt that what I want..to find its master and gain its power...to protect Aravis..
“No!” he sat up closing his eyes as he shivered. A strong force seemed to press around him as the bat tips inched closer to his face.
“No! I will defeat it and return it to the elders...they will decided what to do with it!”
I am risking too much!!
“Silence!”
Adriel opened his eyes, the wings had sunk back into him, as he breathed heavily sweat running down his back..
“I murder...I lead people to force women..I cause wars...I am a monster...but I am not going to betray them..not her...”
Hrmp
The sun was setting, it would soon be nightfall, and with it the haven would come alive with its denizens. Adriel stood, the snow blowing around him lifting his cape in the cold air, his eyes a sharp and clear emerald. Something was playing a game with a devil, it was finally time to place his own piece on the bored....
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:34:31 GMT -8
Chapter 13: A nasty prank
Kraven pinched another bit of sulfur, sprinkling it onto the jacket laid out in front of him on the desk. He began to rub the substance into the fibers as Mischief flew into the room.
“Boss!” The small imp cried in his high-pitch, almost childish voice. “The sun just went down!”
“Excellent.” Kraven stated as he lifted the jacked from the desk, carrying it over to its late owner. Kraven propped the corpse upright and slid the jacket back onto his shoulders. He then released the body so that it fell backwards onto the cold stone floor, the dancing fires of torches and braziers that lit the room reflected in the corpse’s dead stare.
Mischief glanced to the corpse. It had the pentagram on his forehead, and “04113” carved into the right forearm. An open hole in the chest showed his heart was missing. The corpse’s mouth was also sewn shut; thick black stitches were spread across his mouth with stains and trails of blood apparent from where the needle pierced in and out.
“So what’s the plan?” The small imp asked as he turned his gaze back to Kraven.
“We’ve been over this before, Rumor.” Kraven stated as he carefully poured a purple liquid into a glass flask, filling it to the very brim before corking it with some cloth.
“Uh… I’m Mischie-“
“Like I really give a damn.” Kraven said sharply as he interrupted the imp. “You are both an equal annoyance to me and are lucky I even acknowledge the fact that you have names”. He lifted the glass flask to his ear and shook very carefully. There was no air between the explosive liquid and the tightly packed cloth, and so the flask made no noise upon being moved. Kraven nodded once before moving to the corpse again, sliding the flask into an inner jacket pocket on the corpse’s person.
Mischief’s wings began to slow in their rapid flapping, slowly lowering himself to the floor. He sat there watching Kraven with a scowl. Kraven spent the next few moment filling similar flasks, all made of thin glass and filling them so little or no space existed between the liquid and the cloth, for some reason he wanted the flasks to be silent when being shaken. One by one he fit them into pockets on the corpse’s person.
Kraven looked over the corpse slowly and nodded to himself. “Get into position. I’m going to give you step by step instructions so that you have no possible way of messing this up.”
“You don’t have to act like we’re idiots…” The small imp scowled at him.
“Your species is not stupid by any means, but you put your own amusement before all else. It wouldn’t surprise me to have you stray away from my orders if you saw a good laugh in it, a prank to be pulled against the local guards with such a gruesome body in your possession. Make no mistake, I have no doubt the two of you will get quite a kick out of this one. But you will do exactly as I tell you, exactly when I tell you to do it. The last time I trusted the two of you with a task you got side tracked when you found a flock of pigeons and had a contest to see who could shoot down the most…” Kraven ranted as he very carefully lifted the body over one shoulder.
Kraven held the body carefully over one shoulder and made a gesture with his free hand. A moongate opened in front of him.
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Marcus walked about the dark town of Britain unnoticed. It was very late at night and only a few windows were still lit. His eyes carefully examined everything he passed. The majority of the Baali’s murders had taken place in this town. Marcus was looking for anything that could be a clue, anything that could have to do with the Baali, and he found it. Marcus quickly turned his head to the direction of the smell as the scent of sulfur reached him. Marcus quickly turned and pursued the source of the smell, his movement fast but swift and silent, more like the movement of a man’s shadow than the body itself.
Marcus turned a corner sharply, and there it was. Laying face down in an ally with the stench of sulfur thick in the air. Marcus moved to the body and knelt next to it, slowly turning it face up and narrowing his eyes at the stitching across the man’s lips.
“HELP!! MURDERER!!” A woman’s voice cried out sharply. Marcus’ eyes widened and turned his gaze to face the source of the noise. Two imps were snickering at him from a nearby roof top. Rumor took in a deep breath before screaming again, perfectly imitating the voice of a young woman. “PLEASE, HURRY!”
Windows all around began to glow as citizens were awakened and lit their candles and lamps. Marcus could hear the sound of clanking armor as every patrolling guard in ear-shot began to sprint furiously in his direction. Marcus turned his glaring gaze from the imps and back to the corpse. The body alone was a betrayal to the masquerade; he couldn’t let it be found. He only had one choice. Marcus lifted the body over his shoulder and invoked auspex. Immediately he began to run in the direction with the fewest auras.
“He’s getting away!” Mischief said to Kraven through their mental link.
“Then follow him.” Kraven responded sharply from a far away, safe location.
The imps began to flap their wings rapidly and chased after Marcus. It was difficult to keep up with him but Marcus had to make maneuvers and turns around buildings where as the imps could merely fly over them. The imps were able to keep on his trail by literally cutting large corners.
Marcus turned a corner around a dark alley way and stopped. The guards had not been able to keep on his trail. Moving his eyes to the imps flying above, he reached for one of his various throwing knives.
“I found him, he’s this way!!” Rumor shouted, now taking on the voice of a male to imitate a guard.
Immediately the sound of clanking closing in resumed, the guards charging towards what they thought was a fellow guard. Marcus growled in a quiet, annoyed tone as he began to run again. There was still time to make the shot, but not enough time to search for the imp’s bodies when they fell to the ground. If he killed the imps now the guards would find the bodies and wonder what creature could have possibly hit such small targets with a knife, another betrayal to masquerade. The imps had to be tolerated, for now…
Marcus dodged around corners and alley ways, carefully maneuvering pursuing auras as he made his way for the town boarder.
“He’s leaving the town now…” The imps said using their link to Kraven.
“Good, now get ready to blast him, fire the orbs exactly where I tell you…” Kraven responded.
Marcus was making his way into a forest near the town, carefully maneuvering through the underbrush. A tiny orb of fire flew at him, missing his own body entirely and striking the corpse. Immediately the sulfur grinded into the corpse’s clothes lit up and the fire spread across the entire corpse in an instant. Marcus began to release the flaming body by reflex as the fire traveled through the cloth corks of the flasks. The fire reached the explosive liquids and caused the flasks to ignite. The flaming body exploded before it even hit the ground, flaming chunks of bone and flesh were blown apart all around Marcus and flung him back against the ground, injured from the explosions and fire the caught his own clothing.
Marcus shouted in agony, rolling about the ground furiously to put out the flames. Much of the armor on the upper right side of his body was gone, much of his skin in the area was also missing and the exposed muscles badly burnt. Marcus rolled about the ground fast and angrily even after the flames were put out, the sting of the burns still fresh and causing him horrible agony.
The imps circled him above, cackling with amusement as they closed in and shot more orbs of fire into the underbrush around him. In moments the forest around him was blazing, flickering a red glow and sparks all around Marcus. Marcus looked to the imps, his fangs becoming bare and growling hatefully as he forced himself to his feet. He charged, jumping with inhuman ability up and onto one of the few branches in the area that had yet to catch flame. He immediately jumped from the branch and towards the imps. His nails became talons as he soared at them, making a slash at Rumor.
The imp drifted to the side quickly as he saw Marcus coming. The attack missed anything vital but clipped one of his wings, causing him to wince in pain and slowly descend downward.
“Ack!” Mischief said as he flew towards Rumor and grabbed him, helping him fly with the damaged wing.
“What the hell was that!?” Rumor said, looking around. Marcus was nowhere to be seen.
“Well?” Kraven’s voice echoed to them.
The two imps began to quickly fly away from the scene, keeping a tight grip on each other as Rumor could not fly without the assistance. “We uh… we got him!” Mischief replied mentally. Neither of them was sure where Marcus had gone. Rumor had barely dodged the first attack when Marcus was in plain view. Would it be possible to survive a second attack, if he leaped at them from some unseen location? They silently agreed it was better to assume he would die in the fire. “But uh, Rumor needs to try that blood healing thing you said you could teach us…”
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Kraven grinned slowly. “Very well then. Go lay low for a few hours then make your way back here.” Kraven said firmly.
Kraven leaned back in his chair. He was pleased that he had now properly thanked his enemies for dispatching his pack of hell hounds. But was it the same vampire as before? He decided to shrug it off and that the matter was inconsequential. He would find his next victim, and if the body was to disappear as before, he would punish them again.
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Marcus groaned, slowly opening his eyes. His eyes shot opened wider and looked around. He was in a dark cave and didn’t know why. He winced sharply and gripped his right arm, noticing the pain still lingering in his burns. The skin had grown back some but not properly. Burns rarely healed well with vampires, and this one seemed to have left a horrible scar of twisted, burnt skin covering his entire right arm and shoulder. But why was he in this cave?
Marcus went over his thoughts carefully. He remembered escaping the city, and then… fire. His eyes narrowed some. He remembered the imps cackling laughter as the shot orb after orb of fire and turned the underbrush all around him into a blazing inferno. Everything after that was a blank…
The beast. It must have taken over… A memory of Azrael’s words reached Marcus’ mind as he thought over it. “The beast inside you does not want you dead, remember that.” Marcus recalled Azrael’s words. The fire must have caused him to frenzy, and the beast took whatever means were needed to escape the fire and the imps. He could only hope the beast hadn’t caught the attention of any guards during the escape. Hopefully the smoke had hidden the image of a creature so burnt that it should be dead or unable to move, fleeing the scene with inhuman speed.
He could also taste blood, faintly. It was somewhat foul and unpleasant to his taste… the beast must have slaughtered and drained a few animals while in control. All the better, he wouldn’t want dead humans on his hands during a time like this. Still, drinking the blood of animals was far below his usual standards, and the lingering taste was unpleasant.
His thoughts drifted to the clan as he looked to his arm again. He had a lot of explaining to do… Especially to Nessa.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:34:49 GMT -8
Chapter 14: The Pain of Love
Her eyes moved along the pages as her hand moved quickly making notes in her notebook. The potion bottles boiled as heat from the flames licked at the smooth surfaces. Her white hair tucked behind her ear, looking up and down at the vial and her notes. It was going to be a quiet evening Marcus had gone out to search for the Baali and to get her mind off him being gone she had decided to do work in the lab.
Her mind drifted to Marcus, she worried about him being hurt. This monster that betrayed all rules and hunted openly leaving evidence. What is going to stop this monster from killing one of them?
Before she could clear her head pain shot through her, it was not her pain. Grabbing her ahead with her hands she covered her eyes trying to clear her thoughts. Give it a moment then call to him she thought, she focused moving the pain from her mind. She searched for him he was alive but the pain was so intense. Anger, rage, pain, they must die! Her thoughts and feelings were his. She stood and soon drop to her knees upon the cold stone floor. She closed her eyes and called out to him. ‘Marcus, my love are you alright?’ there was no response just the feelings of rage coming from him. She tried again ‘Marcus, please answer me tell me you are alright.’ No answer again.
She quickly gathered her belongings blowing out all flames. She needed to get home and wait for him there. He would come home soon and she would be there to take care of him. She would try randomly to reach him.
The night would turn into day and she would not rest, she could not rest. She would touch his mind briefly to see if he was still with this realm. He was alive and for now well, how well she did not know. She could not rest. She paced the house as much as she could trying to relax she could not even sit still. He would return to the haven soon and she would know what happened and how hurt he truly was.
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Continued ...
She knew he was suffering and in pain but he would not share it with her, he was blocking the pain and suffering. She had told him she did not care what he looked like she would love him no matter what. The words she had softly whispered to him that night ..were they true? Or was it the blood bond that spoke? Was it true she did not want to continue without him if anything happened? Her mind reeled debating whether it had been their bond making her feel this way or if it was truly how she felt.
She had loved few, and the few she had loved it all turned out bad. They all left her or turned out very insane and murderous. If any had truly known her past many would wonder if she was as she seemed. The damsel in distress suited her well and masked many things hidden in her thoughts and her studies. She knew how to play the lady and she was the lady. But if any came from her past to speak of the things she had done she would have a lot of explaining to do. She ran from that past and from the influence of her sire. Marcus had seen a side of her no one in a long time had gotten to.
The clan had gotten so much bigger since the days of when she first found Zendra. She did not need to be so protective now since father was here and the others found their way here. She could crawl back into the dark recesses of her study and her lab. But then again that had caused problems before in her life. It had caused her to lose one she had been bonded with. Now she could not allow that to happen again, little had she known back then that another had been watching her and was curious of her.
A forgotten feeling was being slowly boiled inside of her; one she had hoped was gone. The Baali and his destructive path was bringing about the sleeping anger that had long slept. She would need to seek out father and find out if the plan could go on, if the items she had needed had been found. She had to do something, the anger and fear would only rise higher and burn deeper if she did not do something soon to help.
Her mind wheeled and she did not hear him approach her from behind, his hands gently resting upon her shoulders. She jumped in surprise; turning and smiling ever so softly to him. The love for him flowed over like a dam ready to burst, extinguishing the fire of anger that had been growing quickly. Now was not the time to allow this anger to over take her and burn her from within. Now was the time to bask in the love of the one man who had won her heart.
Finding father could wait just a bit longer ……
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:35:09 GMT -8
Chapter 15: The New Guard
*Reposted for Tacarra*
There was a gentle knock on the door as it opened slowly light filtered in from the small room adjacent. Someone crept closer to the side of the bed closest the wall, not a foot step could be heard or a creak of the floor. A hand reached out gently touching Nessas’ arm shaking her ever so lightly. Crystal blue almost white eyes opened and looked to the person touching her; flaming red hair hung loosely about the dark figures shoulders, gold eyes peered at her.
“Nessa can we talk?” a whispered feminine voice asked.
Nessa nodded and moved gently from the bed trying not to wake Marcus. He stirred just slightly and rolled to his side. Nessa walked quietly from the room with Tacarra following silently behind her. They shut the door as to keep sound from carrying as they talked. The look one Tacarras’ face told Nessa this was something urgent.
“What is it Tac?” Nessa asked as she searched her eyes.
“Nessa I wanted to ask you besides the times you and Marcus come here once or twice a week. Are you guarded in the morning when you sleep?” She chewed her lip watching Nessa for a response.
“No one that I know of, I don’t have any retainers my self and I do know Marcus had one, but he has not been seen in some time.” Nessa sat in the chair looking at Tacarra.
Tacarra nodded listening.
“Why do you ask Tac?” Worry creased the young forehead worry played at the corner of her soft lips as she asked.
“Nessa I ask because I care for your safety and the safety of those you love. As well as it was brought to my attention that you had no one to watch over you while you slept.” Tac kneeled down in front of her friend.
“I would have to speak to Marcus about this and see if he will meet with you and agree to it, but I do not see a problem if it were you to guard us.” She smiled widely.
Tacarra nodded and hugged her friend. She was not going to tell her that the man they both loved and cared for had approached her about watching over Nessa and Marcus. Tacarra had listened closely as he had told her of Marcus being attacked and hurt. She could see the concern in his silver eyes and hear it in his voice.
She did not know of the Baali per say but she had heard from Nessa what this thing was. Any that had planned to enter Marcus haven would be in for a surprise when others were alerted.
It may have been to guard others then the one she was retained to but she did not care. It would give her a reason to be around in Istas more. Maybe run into someone that had been running through her thoughts more often now then before. During the day she would stand guard, when Nessa woke she would sleep briefly then return.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:35:27 GMT -8
*Reposted for Tacarra*
Chapter 16: First Night
The cold wind blew her hair from under the kasa, she stood guard from beside the door. Only on occasion did she move from her spot. Watching so that her feet left no marks in the blowing snow. Nessa had told her to come in if she got too cold. She would not risk moving to open a door to go inside anywhere; she could not give away her location. This was her most important job; her mind clear and her senses sharp. She would not fail them.
Her mind had wandered earlier in the night but others had moved around her she had known most that had walked by. None drew near the door or the house accept in passing. Lael had told her that night that everyone else had someone watching over them. So her job was this building and the occupants inside that rested quietly.
How had this come to be a circle once again? Here she stood guarding one of her dearest friends; one she had guarded many many moons ago. Her thoughts turned to Nessa resting inside Tacarras small log cabin. Nessas’ heart had broken so deeply she wished to die. Instead she sat in one place in one chair slowly wishing she would rot away. She had given Tac a silver stake and begged her to pierce her heart with it and let her die by removing her head and casting her body into the sun. Tacarra could not; something inside her would not allow her to do that. Seems as she looked back on it that there was a very good reason. Nessa had helped to bring Azrael into her life and also became her closest friend and secret keeper.
But as time went on the less they spoke and the more Nessa withdrew into her own lab and her own life. Tacarra sat by helplessly as she saw Nessa get her heart broke repeatedly, and even stalked. Tacarra taught her what she could about mage. Nessa knew the ways of the scribe and the alchemist long before they ever met so she had caught on quickly to magic. The rest of her other skills Tacarra never asked how she learned them or from whom.
She felt the cold nipping at her finger tips snapping her back into the now. Clenching her fists her focus on the blood that was within her, she would burn just a little to warm up. Since staying out of trouble for the most part, and not getting hurt as much as she had in the past she had no need to burn blood to heal …or for that matter anything else.
Now there was only one thing she should be focusing on. The sun would not be up for a few more hours. She had enough sleep the night before, her social life would be cut short until this threat was over. If she had a social life. Time between the rift and bringing things to the museum for Xander was what amounted to her social life. She had realized the other day that her mind had not even turned to Tholden the man she had married even once in the past months. She did find her thoughts turning to someone else; his life was a great curiosity to her. She would love nothing more then to spend a night talking and learning more about him. Her curiosity had not been peaked in sometime. It helped that he was pleasant to look upon as well.
There was crunching noise in the snow and horse hooves. Tacarra watched coolly as the hooded rider approached and rode right past. The cloaked figure not even turning its head looking.
She would be ready if the need for it arose.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:35:55 GMT -8
Chapter 17: Infernal Rook
Adriel head lowered suddenly as he grabbing his face as it began to twist in pain and horror; images flashing before his very eyes, rushing out of his subconscious unannounced to strike him.
A woman screamed as a man placed his hand over her mouth, pushing her back into a stone wall hitting her head hard against it. The woman coughed from under his hand her head dizzy as looked up to her attacked as he slowly ran a dagger up and down her stomach softly, not cutting the flesh. Pure desire, and animalistic lust filled his eyes. She slowly started to sob tears running down her face as he used the dagger to cut the chain of her pendent throwing it down. In the rain the symbol of the early Christians, the cross reflected something unseen to the human eye, a man with angelic features and two prefect white wings standing behind the man, whispering softly into his ears, his eyes glowing like perfect emeralds...
Adriel coughed violently as he buckled over falling to his knees, the snow of the mountains lifting around him softly. Blood ran from his eyes spotting the white ground like red rain as he looked down to it. The visions where no longer haunting him at night in his dreams, and they where becoming more clear...more terrifying.
“Am I nothing more...them a monster of death and molestation.”
“No, No I am more, I am only seeing the bad of me,”
that was from deep within him, as it spoke he felt his blood shift..
“Men are right to hate us, we deserved to be in the abyss...”
his tears started to mix with the blood, long wet red streaks running down his face.
“We did it for them, for men, if we hadn’t they would all have been nothing worthy of life.”
he coughed again, as he looked up the logic settling in, the images of the war, the degree of God stirring behind his eyes.
“If they would have accepted us, chose us, it never would have happened, I would not have to be alone, everything would have been as it should.”
“Humans..” he looked sternly to the ground gritting his teeth.
“They betrayed me, they betrayed all of us...”
“But...it’s not their fault...they where made imperfect, I cant...hate them can I?”
Adriel looked confused, his eyes now where as pure emeralds shifting looking into the bloody snow for answers, but he didn’t see the truths he wished.
“I could...show them what they could be...couldn’t I?, didn’t I go to war for that?”
He felt odd for a moment, as if the evil in him was turning on itself, for a moment he thought it was gone all together, that he was human, before a thought entred into his head like a dagger splitting a stone.
“That..is a possibility...I will need my name for it, I will need more power...”
“Power...”
“The Baali... and it’s cursed master...”
He felt it, and he accepted it, that hatred, utter and pure.
“If it were not for them...I could focus more on my goals...”
“I wonder which one it is, pulling this vampiric puppet’s strings...”
Adriel remembered the wraith summing of Lord Azrael and Nessa. The answers they got, he should have spoken up..what he knew of demon nature at least..but he was sure it was nothing that Azrael didn’t know already.
“It is hunting for those of the certain sins...”
“But why?”
“Maybe...the faith of sinners of high degree is different...it needs the variation maybe?”
“But I don’t...it is just fuel...”
“But I am just surviving and using it now and then to remember...”
“Something bigger...?
As if both sides sounded at one time.
“A ritual....”
“But...I don’t remember any rituals like this...”
“But... I haven’t been awake that long, and a lot is still unclear.”
“I need to remember, for everyone...”
“I know what I must do...”
Adriel stood up slowly looking to the sky...he knew something was stirring, a large portion of himself longing to be remembered, something strong enough to take him to another level all together.
He slowly faded into the snow, opening his eyes anew in the glass room that Dante had showed him in the Abyss... he shivered as his wings and tail sprung forth and he sit on the floor. Slowly he steaded his breathing as he listing to the never ending flow of whispers molding the faith within him to began his training....
He would have the power he ...desired... In the darkness his emerald ear rings shined softly, a image of a staff glittering within them.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:36:19 GMT -8
Chapter 18: Soldiers
Shadows flickered around the cave. Kraven held an orb of fire over his head, the flame hovering just a few inches above his open palm.
"This should do nicely..." Kraven said as he turned, facing a large group of hell cats. He normally preferred hell hounds to do his bidding, but this terrain would demand extreme maneuverability, and the hell cats could move very easily in this chaotic terrain.
"Get into position" He commanded them. In an instant they scattered, the large felines extending grotesque claws that allowed them to impale and climb their rocky surroundings. As soon as they were hidden from the flickering light, Kraven turned again and slowly made his way deeper into the cave.
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Kraven circled the ditch slowly, measuring it up in his mind and hoping it would be big enough. This area of the cave had been fashioned into a room of sorts. Wall torches lit the area, with the massive pit in the center. Kraven turned his head to the path leading upward with a grin. He could hear screams of horror followed by frantic fighting, and finally, the silence of death.
He knew the mercenaries wouldn't stand much chance against the group of hell cats. The location of the ambush was exceptionally ridged with rocks and stalagmites, giving the four legged creature a firm advantage. The felines also had adept sight in the darkness, whereas the human mercenaries where relying on torches which were likely dropped upon the initial attack. The ambush had worked nicely, Kraven thought to himself.
His grin only widened as the hell cats entered the room. Each of the large creatures was dragging a corpse into the room with them, biting the dead body by either an arm or leg and dragging them to the edge of the pit.
Kraven had hired the mercenaries to eliminate a group of brigands that were supposedly hiding in this cave. He had almost hoped they would have put up a better fight against the trap he had set.
"Push them in" Kraven commanded. Each hell cat lowered their head and nudged the body forward, rolling them into the darkness below.
Each body rolled into the ditch below until a decent pile of corpses filled the pit. Kraven trailed his eyes along them slowly. Some vampires would almost be disgusted or worse at what he was doing. But the Baali simply had a different way of siring.
Kraven bit his wrist and drew blood. He then flung his arm in a half circle in front of him, from left to right in a quick motion. Drops of blood flew from his wrist and fell into the pit below. This was the ritual of siring for the Baali. The strongest among the dead would claim the blood, and be reborn.
After a few moments, hungry growls began to emerge from the ditch. Corpses sprang back to life, digging their fangs eagerly into their fallen comrades and feasting on those so unfortunate to have not claimed some of the vampire vitae for themselves.
Kraven watched with his usual smug grin, the torches around the room casting a flicking glow in his evil stare.
Kraven's small band of childe clawed their way up, slowly climbing out of their collective grave. They looked to him with confusion and dismay, not a one of them could find the words to ask what was going on.
"Be still and listen carefully" Kraven said as his eyes moved from one Baali to the next. "You have been chosen to help in a war. Two, eternal realms, are fighting in a war that appears as though it could last until the end of time. However... A determining factor was created. A crucial third realm was born... THIS realm... and the side that controls this world on judgment day will tip the scale. Sin flows in this world as if it were the planets very blood. This world is already damned, fated to serve the infernal realm. However... lingering forces of virtue still try to claim that this world can still be saved. Sooner or later, the infernal forces WILL win. I am going to ensure that this world is claimed sooner, rather than later." His eyes traveled from one childe to the next, each of them was helplessly captivated by the speech he was feeding them, his hold over his own childe was one of supernatural proportion.
"We will be rewarded. When all three realms are under the control of the infernal army, those who helped bring about the final victory shall be given power like humans could not even dream. Each of you-"
"But how can we trust you?" One of his childe broke in. "You... did this to us... You had us, killed... What are we? What are YOU? What did you do to us?" Kraven's grasp on them had been broken as the impact of their deaths reached them. They had indeed been killed, and it was obvious their employer had set it up.
Kraven walked to the defiant childe, staring directly at him. Kraven made eye contact, and in an instant, all of the childe's greatest sins flashed before Kraven's eyes. He leaned close, and without the others being able to hear, whispered everything he was seeing. The childe's eyes widened at every word.
"You, my troublesome little childe..." Kraven said as he spoke in a louder voice, allowing the others to listen. "Have been damned for quite some time. As I said, the majority of this world is. Those who have embraced sin WILL serve on the side of the infernal master, or they may suffer a traitor’s fate for eternity."
Even if Kraven's words were untrue about the severity of his childe's sins, he was burning blood to invoke yet another power of the Baali. The ability to invoke supernatural fear into his victims. By learning the childe's sins, he could burn yet more blood to invoke a supernatural level of fear in his target, a fear of damnation.
"But... I, you... we were murdered, and..." The childe was still clinging to some level of defiance, the concept of his own death was still enough to invoke distrust of Kraven.
"Very well, then" Kraven said firmly as he took a step back. With a snap of his fingers, a wave of fire shot forth and impacted against the childe's torso. With a howl of dismay, the young Baali was thrown back into the pit, his flesh a lit with fire that was quickly consuming him. He landed against the pit of corpses with a thud, sparks and embers blasting from his burning body. He rolled and squirmed among the bodies, yelling and growling in horror until finally he laid still, his echo slowly fading from the cave walls and leaving only the sound of burning embers among the corpses.
"I hope the rest of you can understand what I am offering..." He said, still observing the burning corpse while the others watched in silent horror. "I have already given you a great gift. Immortality".
The remaining Baali looked to one another, Kraven's words had indeed peeked curiosity.
"It is true, you can still be killed, especially if I wish it, as you can see" Kraven motioned to the fallen Baali in the pit a final time before turning and walking some distant away from the ditch, then facing his group of childe again. "But age and sickness no longer exist for you. I have much to teach you all and will explain what you have become. I can turn each of you into something more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Do I have your loyalty?"
They submitted, each of his childe was either tempted by bribe of frightened by threat. One way or another, Kraven had recruited his first band of Baali. But he would need more than this.
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"Hm..." The man rubbed his chin slowly, considering.
"I can pay handsomely" Kraven said assuringly.
"Brigands, huh? Well I normally only have my men go after orcs and the like, but I guess given the circumstances these thugs have it coming. We'll make sure your brother will be the last of their victims. Where did you think that they're hiding, again?" The mercenary captain raised a brow as he questioned Kraven.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:36:38 GMT -8
Chapter 19: Questions for the Dead
I awoke in the guest room at Nocturne, comfortable I could feel the warmth from the hearth against my back. My ears perked at the noises in the haven, people moving about. I dressed quickly returning the jacket Stygia had made for me to wear back to the armoire. Leaving the room I met Azrael in the hall, with a soft greeting he told me Marcus and Nessa sought to speak with him, he presumed about the objects obtained from the Baali victims. I followed the Seti down to the kitchen to meet Marcus and Nessa, where we discussed the objects as suspected and arranged to meet in the cities Ritual Room in the Community Hall; The Seti would guide Nessa though a summoning ritual so we could question the Baali's victims.
Tulia joined us from Nocturne, and Adriel as we entered the Community Hall. Those of us not accustomed to the rituals of blood necromancy waited as Azrael and Nessa prepared for and began the ritual, once ready through Tulia, the Seti summoned us to the chamber. As we entered the chamber, the air hung heavy and cold, colder than the air from the valley out side; though candles were lit their light was barely visible. Azrael and Nessa stood in the protection of the abattoir, across from them two shadowed forms hovered in the air in the summoning circle, each above their respective items. Azrael and Nessa focused unerringly on the circle across from them in near trance. Blood ringed both circles glowing a soft violet as if it had been traced around the edges... I could smell the blood and recognized Azrael's scent.
Without looking to us Azrael commanded us not to break the circles, then softly he spoke, “Essess, Scourge, each wraith may be asked three questions... only three...” Marcus clarified that we would indeed have six questions in total and we conferred as to what to ask. Marcus asked me if I felt our ability to sense other vampires would be enough or should we seek a description of the Baali, to which Azrael responded speaking slowly with a slight smile, “They can be made to take their attackers shape,” he finished with a nod. As he finished the male wraith opened his mouth filling the room with whispers, Azrael told Nessa to silence him and in a low commanding voice she commanded his silence. Marcus explained that he could try to pass himself off as a caitiff that a visual reference would help and so that became our first question to the wraiths.
Azrael stepped forward and in a loud voice said, “Iram enuma Elinas! Untah abrigas!? [Hebrew: You will assume the shape of your killer, what was their appearance?] I turned to face the wraiths, and after a fiery flash both portrayed a man in his twenties, with short brown hair and a lean figure. The man's skin was pale, his clothing expensive. Black fire flowed around his hands and forearms, his eyes reflecting a twisted joining of hatred and amusement, a confident grin on his mouth. After a moment the Seti asked if we had his features memorized and Marcus and I both answered yes. Focusing on the circle before him Azrael told Nessa to command them to revert, with authority she told them to change back and they assumed their previous shapes. Softly Azrael said, “you have two more questions of each.”
Marcus turned to me and asked if I felt they would know why they were killed. As I thought about this Marcus asked Azrael, if they did not know the answer what happened to the question? Azrael answered softly, “the the question is lost...” I responded to Marcus stating, they would know if they were told, then asked if he thought he would tell them? I followed that with saying we could ask one of them and save the extra question for something else. Marcus asked who we should ask and I shuddered looking at the woman's wraith, “the man,” I answered him quietly. After further discussion about who to pose the question, Marcus told the Seti, “we would like to know why the man thinks he was murdered.”
Azrael spoke gently to Nessa, “Inquire of the male, his thoughts on the reason he was killed...” Nessa stepped forward, the socket eyes of the male wraith widened then narrowed at her, Azrael continued, “know he must obey... know he is an object... nothing more, yours to use as you see fit...” I lowered my gaze hearing his words, my mind flashing to Bruhae my twin sister, her wraith that now residing in my haven. Nessa spoke, “You male will give your reason why you think you were murdered,” as she spoke the male wraith shook his head and pressed back against its bonds. Azrael whispered, “it must be a question childe...” Nessa spoke again, “why do you think you were murdered?” The male wraith explained that the Baali looked like a creature of hell, that he believed he was being punished. Azrael then spoke softly to the wraith, “I can make certain you will feel hell, eternally... I have nothing but patience and time...” The wraith paused then continued to explain, the Baali was relieved to finally find him, calling him “The False Worshiper”, and that he could finally begin. As the wraith fell silent, Nessa stepped back beside Azrael. I lifted my gaze to Marcus, “not just any false worshiper” I said to him, Azrael whispered nodding, “The False Worshiper,” I continued, “so the victims are specific.”
From there we began to discuss the details of the murders, the specific acts done to the victims to see if anything would garner clues we could follow up on, Marcus asked if anything would lead us to and understanding of the ritual being done and I asked if the removal of their hearts would be specific enough. We debated asking if they knew details of the removal and decided that would be our next question. “Should we ask one or both?” Marcus asked, Azrael whispered as I considered, “one question remains of the male, two of the female,” “the female,” I responded softly and the question was asked. Azrael stepped forward slowly, his eyes resting on the female, she recoiled back pressed the invisible curve of the circle behind her. The female wraith began screaming, “please let me go!, please!” as she beat on the invisible barrier with her hands. Azrael spoke in a cold even tone to her, “what are the circumstances of the removal of your heart during your slaying?” “It was burning my head... then a knife stabbed my chest...” she replied to him. “You will continue or I will ensure the burning never stops...” Azrael responded. Azrael tilted his head slightly as if judging something as he studied her, nodding once he said softly, “she knows nothing more of this matter.” The female wraith began sobbing in loud echoed tones; Azrael held his hand aloft, and curling his fingers in the air as if around something he stated, “you will be silent.” The wraith gasped and fell silent at his command, Azrael his focus remaining on the circle before him said softly, “one question remains of each...”
As we discussed our understanding of the crimes, and how we could extrapolate the rest of the details of the murders in an effort to find another question, in hopes of a lead, Azrael spoke softly, “all ritual is psycho pomp... my son and daughter... just as this ritual... to arouse emotional energies...for a specific purpose...” Tulia spoke next mentioning how we knew who they were, how and why they were killed but not what they were doing before they were slain. As we spoke Nessa said softly, “father...” Azrael put a hand on her shoulder and told her to focus it would end soon. We discussed a time frame to ask for and Azrael explained the wraiths would try to get away with giving as little information as possible to meet the demand of them. We settled on a week as Nessa swayed on her feet. “Time is a factor now,”Azrael spoke, ask your question.
Azrael looked to the woman once more as he stepped forward, the wraith began sobbing looking back at him, studying her coldly he asked slowly, “what do you remember of your actions in regard to your eventual death, one week, leading up to your ritual execution?” The female wraith spoke, “...buy property far away... it had been my first purchase of real property... they wanted information I had never been required to fill out before, my name, birth, where I currently lived...” she continued, “I went back to check on the deal and the file was gone... they needed me to rewrite it. I thought it was the noble... I knew he would want me dead... I was walking in an ally some days later, trying to avoid the main roads... I heard a snickering almost childish... it was dark, I turned and it.. it looked like a bat... laughing... I got scared and turned to run, and when I did, it was there... It grabbed, it looked into my eyes and stared hard, then it grinned.. Fire...” she began to sob. Azrael nodded slightly and spoke to her, “you have fulfilled the law of the blood and answered... Go now, begone; and pray I never find you again...” As Azrael finished the female wraith dissipated in a wail and the room brightened just slightly.
Azrael then spoke to us softly, “I have a question for this creature...” I responded, “as you wish Seti.” Azrael spoke to the male wraith, “you are a man trained in the holy ways, whether you pursued them or not... Therefore you may have had access to church records... and blasphemous crimes... Comb your mind as I ask priest... for we seek to send your murderer... to you... You've heard the details of this crime, and have fallen victim yourself... Where may information about this circumstances of this ritual be found... if it exists? Remember your answer... will bring us closer to sending your murderer to you.” Azrael studied the wraith patiently, and we all listened. The creature wailed some looking about the room as it seemed to be searching memories. Azrael whispered softly, “dig deep priest, your revenge depends on it.” The wraith finally responded, “Father... Valmar.. He hunted monsters like you... he would spend hours studying the religions of evil... He now lives in Minoc last I heard...” Azrael nodded slightly, the wraith finished, “if anyone knows... he does...” Azrael exclaimed, “begone, and find the woman, together you may piece together the remnants of your shattered lives... while waiting on your revenge...” with his final word the wraith evaporated, and the light of the room returned fully. All traces of blood from the circle evaporated into nothingness and the circles lay dormant once more. Nessa fell to her knees as Azrael said softly, “it is done...”
Asking if it was safe to enter the circle Marcus moved to Nessa, biting his wrist and offering it to her; Marcus supported her and after a few moments helped her to a place to rest. As Marcus and Nessa moved to leave Azrael told her, “you did well childe... in time it will become easier.” Azrael then turned focusing on the summoning ring and the ring and key sitting where the wraiths had hovered now steaming in the returning warmth of the room. “I... will clean this...” he said quietly. Tulia had left before Marcus and Nessa, I offered to help but the Seti, his face expressionless, and his mirrored eyes dim, simply dismissed Adriel and myself. Bowing his head Adriel said, “yes Seti,” as he left the chamber. I lingered a moment longer before turning from Azrael, forcing my thoughts to what we had learned I took the teleporter from the Ritual Chamber and exited the building. Slowly walking back to Runescape in the icy wind of our mountain canyon I contemplated our next move.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:36:59 GMT -8
Chapter 20: Father Valmar - Vampire Hunter
Arriving home from talking to the Seti, I met Xander in our makeshift workroom/kitchen. Leaning my hip to the counter I watched quietly as he put away the making for a sandwich he was eating. Happy to see him we exchanged the affection of a regnant and retainer; Xander told me he was just finishing dinner when he asked what I was up to. “I have a lead,” I told him, “on what," he asked, “the Baali, or at least information on the Baali.” I felt him quickly gain control over the reflexive fear that swelled in him, Xander nodded as his smile evaporated, “whats the situation,” he asked finally. As Xander focused, I shared with him reassurance and my need for him as I explained. “We have learned of a priest that may be located in Minoc," I nodded to him gently feeling his protectiveness. “What's the connection,” Xander asked. “Father Valmar studied the religions of evil sects, he may be able to give us insight into the ritual, or why the victims are being chosen,” I responded. Feeling Xander's uneasiness for the priest, I continued, “we need to scout Minoc to locate him, then see if he will speak to us.” “I'll need a few things from the museum,” Xander replied looking down at the table. I rested a hand on his arm and told him it wouldn't be easy for me; meeting my gaze I felt his intense protectiveness as he said, “it never is...” “The safety of the clan comes first,” I replied and he shook his head; “no, your safety comes first, then theirs.” Xander was steadfast in his belief, I understood his feelings and accepted them, sensing my feelings he nodded gently then told me he'd meet me at the museum.
After getting my gear I met Xander his museum, still uneasy out of habit I reminded Xander we would be in constant contact. I told him I would stay to the shadows and let him approach to evaluate the situation, “I am not really sure... what it is I need to make sure of,” Xander asked. “We need to find him, establish if he will speak to us, how apprehensive he is, what we are walking into...” As I spoke my apprehension increased, Xander picked up on it and I explained the concerns the Seti had about this man. Xander nodded and with a gentle smile said, “Minoc then...” and we were off. Skara Brae first then the gate to Minoc, we started asking locals about Father Valmar as we entered the city limits. In my mind after a short while Xander said, “this wanderer, says he thinks he lives in a tavern, right across from his place... Now he's saying its not a tavern... its a school...” I could feel Xanders mental agitation, “now its a hospital... either way its across from his place...” “Well we can see if he is there and establish the premises ourselves.” I could feel humor from Xander, “and tell the tavern keeper/school teacher/doctor hello?” Grinning I added, “don't forget priest!” I felt Xander focus as he reported back to me, “two visible windows... an old man staring out a window from the north wall.” With some uncertainty Xander asked, ”should I just knock?” “Aye,” I answered in his mind, “if he asks who sent us, Father Harron directed us to him.” I watched from the shadow of a nearby tree as Xander knocked and gained entrance to the cabin. In my mind there was immediate fear and a warning from Xander, “stay out!”
Deeply concerned I asked tentatively in Xander's mind, “what is it?” “He has a crossbow... gimme a minute.” I sensed uncertainty in Xander, and got a sense he was leveling with the man. I asked if he was alright and received back, “I'm... not dead. So its a start.” Xander continued from his mind, “he has a candle, something holy... it can sense your vampire blood in me...though in truth it may just be sensing your presence. He's armed with a silver stake firing crossbow... He's no novice and I've told him I'm seeking a vampire for destruction. He wants to know where you are... because I mentioned an associate who wished to speak with him about the matter” “I am at the healers cabin,” I answered. “He wants me to bring you here...” Xander responded. “This guy is no novice, I don't think its the best idea.” he finished. “Can we feign a reason for him to come here with you?” I replied. “This man isn't going to be fooled by us, he already knows there is a vampiric presence here. He's not leaving the safety of this place...” Accepting the situation after a moment I responded to Xander, “come get me.”
A few moments later Xander opened the door to the healers hut I was in, “I'm not sure how well this is going to work, he's not just some, 'old man'. He's a seasoned hunter, his place is filled with protective magicks.” “Symbols of faith?” I asked quietly? “Only the candle that I could see, but if he can make a holy candle, I'm sure he is wearing several, he slipped a robe on when I walked in.” I closed my eyes and focused intensely on burning the blood needed to fortify my body and prepare if the need arose for enhanced speed or strength. Xander frowned but lead me to the priests cabin, as we entered I saw the triangle of candles on the floor, others lit around the room; the flame of one of the candles burned a darker blue in my presence. Xander took a place between me and the priests crossbow and we began to speak.
“How far could Harron have fallen to make contact with the likes of you?” the priest spoke first. “Quite far actually but it had nothing to do with me...” I responded. “Your kind has no real power of the Baali. Only a holy warrior can truly have an advantage over them...” “Father Valmar,” I countered, “evil can fight evil, to preserve itself; do you remember the last Baali resurgence?” Father Valmar answered no so I continued, “they spread their evil like a disease, but have been stopped by vampires before.” The priest spat out, “As do you...I see a mortal man before me turned into a monster by you somehow...” “They were stopped before by Azrael, and his coterie,” I continued, “we can stop the Baali again!” “Then tell me what you need to know so I can get you out of my sight!” the priest replied.
With a shaky voice, Xander spoke next telling the priest he had studied the Baal cults, and that we knew it must be a ritual for something. I followed Xander explaining the bodies had been marked, we believed there would be thirteen in total. Father Valmar interrupted my explanation accusing us of wanting to conduct the ritual ourselves, that we merely wanted vital information out of the old man. “If I were doing the ritual, I wouldn't need you...” I said growing agitated myself with the situation. Xander looked between me and the man's crossbow as the priest replied, “Tell me you only want the Baali dead. These holy candles can detect sin, including lies...” “I need the Baali dead,” I replied. As I spoke the priest kept his eyes on his candles the pattern of flickering remained unchanged. After a moment the priest spoke again, “how many are dead?” he asked. Softly I replied, “he has four so far.” “The last victim, were the lips sewn shut?” I nodded gently as the priest turned his gaze to Xander. “The next will be a thief,” Xander frowned slowly as the man listed, “then a murderer, a man of pride, an addict, a blood drinker, an executioner, a witch, a traitor and a soul stealer. You best find these people before him and lay in wait...”
I felt a small sense of relief, something to work with, as the priest continued, “The object is to open a gateway between this realm and hell, but it only lasts a brief moment. Killing the victims in a way that reflects their sin, and leaving the bodies for others to find, can provide him with a few extra vital seconds.” “No one knows of their sins,” I told him, “none of the bodies have been made public.” “Then you are preventing him to an extent, although the fact that they are seen at all will count for a small amount.” I nodded gently. “The reason for opening the portal to hell can vary greatly. He may be conjuring a daemon, to obtain an infernal weapon.” I was concerned as I said, “he needs nine more victims.” Father Valmar added, “Lay and wait in places of sin that match his next targets.” Xander then spoke softly, “how do you know about the ritual? Is there a source we can look to, and maybe find some lead? There must be minions of his doing the same. If we catch them...” Valmar replied, “I destroyed all the records I could find. The Baali had a 'bible' in circulation, these new spawn may have one as well... Now get out!” the priest proclaimed, “I have work to do.”
Xander backed up into me nodding to the priest, as Valmar spoke again, “there kind is not to be trusted. Turn away before you are changed into one of them entirely...” Xander said softly, “I can't turn away from something I know is wrong. This Baali, stopping it... nothing else really matter.” Valmar responded, “Both organizations are evil. May both destroy each other in mutual damnation. Now be gone.” Xander nodded a little as I said as we left, “so are most men.” Xander breathed in slowly as we stood outside the cabin, I took a deep breath and rested my hand on Xander's shoulder as he looked down a moment. Softly I spoke to him, “take me home.” Xander nodded and opened the first gate to get us back to Runescape without being followed.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:37:22 GMT -8
--Infernal Training--
The man and the woman indulged in each other before his eyes. He watched them quietly from the shadows, his eyes a dark emerald observing every finite move they made. He could only smile as he implemented new ideas of lust into one of their minds and they leaped to satisfy that new idea of desire with their partner. Adriel sighed softly as he began to sweat, keeping them in this state was harder then he had first realized.
Adriel slowly looked to the table that was on the other side of the room, gazing at his reflection at the woman’s wedding band, would she have done this without him? Would she continue to do this if he stopped weaving them in desire?
He frowned as he felt a soft pinch of guilt deep inside him as he peered down at the floor, his humanity could not take it, seeing what he was doing.
“I am doing this to protect Aravis and our family..the clan”
“But why did I have to pick a newly wed woman...and a monk in training... is this not a bit much, I didn’t even consider their lives”
“A novice can hook up two common day people, this is a challenge, without this I can not get stronger”
“I don’t even have confirmation from Sir. Marcus yet that the elders approved of the idea”
“This is just practice for if they do... and even if they don’t there is no law saying I can not get stronger”
He looked back up slowly to the humans as they rearranged themselves on the mattress, he didn’t have to worry for now of them addressing him, their minds where so far gone into primal lust he could be playing a harp and they wouldn’t hear the noise. Regardless he remained within his human body, his own desire to sprout wings and tail and slowly transform into his true self was strong. He looked to the door and frowned . . . Too many things could happen, too much risk, he would have to hold back his own longing for now.
He shivered softly as the humans minds buckled against what was happening. He frowned as he raised a finger softly pointing towards them, he breathed out slowly letting the faith within him flow into the air and over them, twisting inside of them stirring their burning lusts and desires for each other anew.
They where both young, and the monk had sworn chastity at a young age before he had ever known a woman, and the wife had only been married some few days now and was just begging her physical life with a man. Their bodies had reached and surpassed what they expected from sexual acts, it was only a time before their minds rebelled that something was not right.
“Amelia said I should accept what I am, that fighting it would only destroy me...”
“She also said I must be careful not to become a monster”
For a moment the two halves within him seemed in perfect harmony as the memory of standing before Amelia in his true demonic form her hand on his chest speaking words of encouragement, giving him the idea to weave sinners to trap the Baali into their hands.
Another image of Aravis holding him in his true form speaking of his beauty and the felling of her pride for what he was flowing from her into him.
“I can not let them down,” both sides thought at the same time.
He turned and left the room, cutting the faith he had let flow into the two, whatever fate they would make after realization was no longer in his power. He walked down the hotel’s hall and sighed stopping to get a drink of water. His faith was running low, to low to continue again.
“Thank for you coming sir! Can I get you a room ready?” the voice came from the first floor.
Adriel looked over the rail towards the hotel’s entrance his eyes focusing on the voice.
It came from a young girl, perhaps in her late teens, her skin was tanned dark from hard work in the sun, her hair pulled and tied back to keep dirt out of it.
She was a hidden gem, the girl of beauty whom no one ever noticed, or when they did dare not advanced since she was such a common face to the town. She looked up and noticed him looking at her, she smiled softly and waved calling up in a cheerful voice.
“Is there anything you need sir? I will be happy to get it.”
“Take her...”
Adriel blushed deeply at the thought, and smiled calling down to her he needed another candle in his room.
He would need energy to train, and training to prepare to catch the Baali, all he awaited now was the orders to do so
He smiled as the girl ran up the stares and followed him down the hall way to where he said his room was.
Maybe training would be more fun then he had expected.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:37:42 GMT -8
Chapter 22: Experiments
She pushed the loose hair into the bun she had tied her hair into. She looked down at her notes rubbing one eye with a free hand and writing notes down with the other. In front of her a dish with what looked like blood a green substance and a yellow substance all sat along the edges waiting to be mixed. She scribbled notes as she mixed the a small amount of the blood with the green liquid, nothing seemed to happen.
‘The blood and substance A - no reaction’
She mixed the yellow liquid with the blood, a small puff of smoke appeared. She grinned and placed it to the side grabbing three vials. As she scribbled more notes.
‘The blood and substance B - Small reaction
Setting down her pen she placed on the thick fur lined gloves she had commissioned, another layer of clothing, a mask and glasses she had asked for. She made sure the door to the lab was locked before picking up vial that was locked within a chest. Placing the vial in an empty rack she grabbed the metal spoon that had been placed delicately over a high burning candle hours ago. The silver substance it the spoon had turned liquid, she prepared and empty vial pouring half the clear cool liquid in first as waited for the silver to cool enough to pour into the vial.
Watching she slowly poured the liquid silver into the vial; as it touched the clear liquid the silver hardened. Putting the spoon back over the candle she placed another small silver pellet on the spoon to melt. She moved to write notes in her book.
‘ I need to delude the silver as it melts reaction to substance C caused the silver to harden again.’
Her frustration grew more, she slammed her quill down and stood. She removed the gloves and placed them on her chair. There was something missing. She knew that not all vampires were affected by silver or blessed water, but the Baali was something that would be affected by blessed water wouldn’t he?
Her head was about to explode with all the thoughts that swirled and the measurements and requirements. She needed a break, and someone else perception. Father would be the best for this, and she had another important question for him.
Pulling on her veil dropping the rest of her lab garb on the floor, she needed fresh air and to find Father.
____________________________________________________________________________________
She knocked gently on the door to the office; she heard a gentle response to enter. He was bent over looking through scrolls. His spectacles perched on his nose; she could not help but grin and hold back a giggle. He always looked so serious when he wore his glasses. She felt as if she had been bad when he looked down his nose with his glasses on at her.
“Hello Father” She smiled as she stood on the other side of the desk.
He turned and smiled to her and greeted her in return.
“How are you?” He asked turning from the papers.
“Frustrated.” She told him with a partial grin
He asked for to come around the other side of the desk to speak to him as she explained what Marcus had asked her to do and what she tried to achieve. He nodded in understanding then explained a few things to her about developing weapons and potions against their own kind. She had already known just by common sense that she could not create a weapon or a potion that could harm or kill one of their own without permission. She had to explain that this was to affect the Baali.
Her guess had been right that blessed water would affect him due to the nature of what he was. But how to get it into his system? She had thought of tiny needles that could be thrown into the body with some sort of explosion. And as happens often, father brought up another good point. Fortitude. The pins would not do much at all. She could feel the frustration building again.
Then an idea was brought up for a special bladed weapon, Nessa perked up. Of course, how could she have been so blind? Marcus and most everyone was a warrior of sorts. But Nessa was not and did not know of any smiths. Father being who he was gave her a small list of smiths and he made his own recommendation.
This made her night, she felt some frustration lift from her as he explained the best way the bladed weapon would work and release the blessed water. She would speak to Penny and the monks at the Abbey for the blessed water. This would work and Marcus would be thrilled.
Now came the next questions. How could she bite Marcus without causing him pain. Father asked her if they were both bonded to each other already. Nessa looked down and told him yes. He said nothing but began to explain that it was going to take practice and it would cause Marcus pain when she did bite him. He gave her directions on how to practice. She was not too sure if she ever would bite him, it was a great thing to think over. She would speak to Marcus as well.
She thanked her father and left him to his papers she would go to Laels and leave a message to speak to Penny about a design for a bladed weapon that would be designed well enough to release the blessed water.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:38:04 GMT -8
I was walking through the stair hallway when I heard the front door open and shut quietly. I moved through to the doorway and looked into the main room to see a blonde woman standing by the front door and looking around. I stepped into the main room myself and greeted her, adding that Laeldril was not at home at the moment if the woman needed her. The lady shook her head and said yes, but that actually her real business was with one who was Laeldril's, the smith named Penny. I smiled at her then and told her at least that much I could help with as I was Penny. The lady smiled back and introduced herself as Nessa, a name I had heard at least, and that she stayed with Marcus in one of the houses behind Laeldril's. Nessa wondered, would it be possible to make a dagger that could also inject something like say, holy water when it was used.
I looked at Nessa a brief moment and then said that that seemed a rather unusual request for someone in this town. "It is" Nessa agreed, "but it is for use against the Baali." That was another word I had heard just enough of around the town, but I was already trying to think of ways I could make this dagger. I went on to ask Nessa about a few details on the dagger, frequently interrupting both of us to mutter to myself as possiblities came to me in the design. I learned she was commissioning them for Marcus and would actually prefer a pair, in case he wished to give one out to someone.
So here it is a few days later and I sit polishing the last of the set of daggers that is finally made. It is a nice dagger even if I do say so myself. The blade is slighty odd as the tip is actually formed around a small hole that runs all the way through the blade to the handle, but you still really need a good sharp tip for piercing, or at least I think so and I'm the one making it. The blade is also formed with some serrations designed so that it will go in smoothly, but be a bit rough coming out. That will not only do more damage, but will give just a bit more time, even if only a couple seconds, to remove the dagger and let whatever liquid reach its target. The reservoir is in the handle and the liquid will be forced out with some applied pressure. I gave the handle two methods for that pressure since you never know what angle your going to have to hit from in a tight corner.
I sigh slightly as I finish the handle and move on to polishing the blade itself. I have not seen Laeldril while I was making these to talk to her about it all. I know she has been around because I am never short on food, in particular the pies and wine, but I miss her. After the night of my misadventure in Cove and what she taught me, I am so very curious about what else I might be able to learn. I cut the tip of one finger slightly on the edge of the sharp blade and automatically stick it in my mouth. A typical and common reaction to cut fingers I have noticed, but this time the slight metallic taste makes me stop and think.... Would it really be so bad after all if I had to rely on Laeldril more directly than through her additions to my food? I look back to the pair of daggers on the table, and then to the unrequested third in my uncut hand. Maybe, just maybe I will ask her about it when I give her this new little present.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:38:26 GMT -8
Chapter 24: Dark Assumptions
“There are thieves all over this town… why does he have to be so picky?” Armand snarled under his breath.
“I’m sure he has good reason, let’s just keep searching…” Damian whispered in response.
The two Baali glanced from left to right as they walked down the quiet streets of Britain.
They were making their way into a poorer part of town, each building the past looked more unkempt than the one before it. Both Baali were keeping their eyes open for street urchins hiding among the slums. Armand looked over his shoulder slowly, his eyes narrowing.
“Damian…” He snarled quietly. “We’re being followed…”
“What?”
“Some human… I tried to ignore him before but he’s stayed on us for the past three streets…”
Damian shrugged slightly. “I’m sure it’s nothing…”
Armand shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pick up his pace. Damian frowned and with an irritated look began to walk faster alongside Armand.
The sound of the footsteps behind them grew faster in turn. Armand snarled louder, his fangs visible. “He’s starting to piss me off…”
The sound of footsteps grew faster. The stalker was no longer following the two Baali; he was catching up to them.
“That’s it.” Armand said with a growl as he turned around, facing the mortal who was now within arms reach.
A hand shot out and grabbed Armand by the forehead, pressing a metal ankh against his skin.
Pain shot through Armand’s body like fire, crying out in an echo of pain as the ankh burned against his skin. Damian took a step back slowly, his eyes going wide. Armand grabbed his attacker by the forearm, writhing unsuccessfully to get free.
Valmar narrowed his eyes at the helpless vampire in his grasp. With his free hand, he slowly drew the sword from his side. Valmar began to turn as he released Armand’s forehead. Turning in a complete circle, Valmar struck his sword against Armand’s neck with the full momentum of the three-hundred and sixty degree swing, decapitating the Baali in a single strike.
Damian’s eyes grew wider as Armand collapsed to the group, blood spurting from his neck, his head falling to the ground and rolling a short distance away from his body.
Valmar turned to Damian and held out the ankh he had used to weaken Armand. Damian’s eyes locked on the symbol and his body froze, paralyzed and unable to break free.
Valmar approached Damian quickly and thrust his blade forward, cutting cleanly through the center of his chest and piercing out the other side, blood dripping from the end of the blade. Valmar released the blade and Damian collapsed to the ground, unable to move with the blade stuck in his heart.
Valmar looked back and forth between the two vampires. There was only one thing left to do now. Valmar reached into his robe and drew out a large flask of flammable oil, opening it and slowly pouring its contents over the vampires.
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“Uh, boss…. We may have a problem…” Rumor said in his mind as he circled high above, watching the scene as Valmar lit fire to the two vampires.
“I’m well aware, I –felt it-…” Kraven snarled in an annoyed voice, speaking to Rumor mentally.
“I don’t think it’s a vampire though… I think it’s a human…”
“Follow him.” Kraven commanded. “Keep as high in the air as you can without losing sight of him.”
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Valmar entered the shack in silence, closing the door behind him gently. Moving to the desk he reached for a match and lit a candle. The shack had once belonged to the late father Harron, and now served as Valmar’s haven while investigating the Baali. Valmar sat at the desk and watched the flickering candle light, lost in thought.
It was only a few minutes before Valmar was called from his calculating thoughts. The candle in front of him began to turn blue, and flicker wildly.
Valmar’s eyes began to widen as a loud blast shout out behind him, the wooden door turning to flaming splinters and scattering across the shack. A dark figure slowly emerged into the room, his eyes moving to Valmar and reflecting a twisted union of amusement and hatred in his stare.
Valmar drew his ankh pendant from his neck and held it in front of him. Kraven looked to the pendent a moment before spitting and looking back to Valmar. Although the power of Valmar’s virtue could manifest and incapacitate any of Kraven’s fledgling childe, Kraven’s own faith in his dark religion was on par with that of the old priest. Kraven’s faith could manifest and counter Valmar’s, regardless of who’s deity was more powerful.
Valmar’s eyes began to widen. Kraven spread his hand out, facing his open palm toward’s Valmar. Valmar reached for his sword and began to move forward. Before Valmar could attack, an orb of fire manifested in Kraven’s hand, firing at the old man and striking his face.
Valmar flung back and screamed in agony, the fire searing against his skin, causing disfiguration of his face and instant blindness. A pair of hell hounds charged into the room, running past Kraven and sinking their teeth into the dying priest. Kraven turned and walked out of the shack, the dying cries of an old man echoing behind him.
Kraven faced a group of about a dozen Baali, circled outside the shack and waiting for orders. “Search it, leaving nothing unchecked. If someone should walk by, kill them before they can have the guards interrupt you.” And with that, Kraven drew a runebook from his pack and departed.
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A faint knock echoed from the door, causing Kraven to look up from his desk. “Enter”.
The door opened slowly and one of Kraven’s childe entered the room, a file with papers in hand.
“Well?” Kraven asked, raising a brow.
“We found something…” The childe said, approaching the desk slowly and laying the file down.
Kraven nodded once. “Good, now let me review this in peace.”
The childe turned slowly and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Kraven looked to the file, withdrawing its papers and scanning across them carefully.
I don’t want to believe it… but if the Baali really have returned, I can’t take any risks… I have to put retirement aside.
On June 14th, two vampires entered my home, seeking information of a ritual I believe was called “The Unholy Descent of the Thirteen Sinners”. At first I believed they only wanted the information so as to perform it, but they claimed they were trying to stop a Baali…
The first to enter my home was possibly not a vampire, but merely a mortal slowly being corrupted by them. My candles detected his presence and any lies he was planning to feed me were quickly abandoned as I drew my crossbow. He was young, with long dark hair and a well trimmed beard. What I believe was a true vampire entered next… a seemingly young drow woman with long white hair fashioned into a tail. I don’t think they were going to leave until they had the information they wanted… If they were truly Baali, they likely would have already known more than me about the ritual. I still regret humoring them… They claimed a vampire by the name of Azrael was the one to destroy the last plague of Baali. Azrael… the name is not unheard of to me, still, I know little of him, other than I have heard of a vampire by that name before. Why do they seek each other’s destruction? The young man said he is doing this because he cannot turn away from something he knows is wrong, that he truly wants to destroy the Baali… There has to be some gain in it for them. They cannot seek to destroy the Baali for the sake of mankind. I have seen these creatures perform acts that would make a grown man ill. Perhaps they believe the Baali are going to destroy the world, and so they wish save mankind only so they can continue to believe they control man in their evil grasp.
I have to do something. They told me Harron is dead… could he really have been killed as the False Worshipper, the first sacrifice of the ritual? Tomorrow morning I shall ride to the abbey and find were Harron was last stationed. Perhaps the Baali are still operating nearby, it is the only clue I have…
Actions to take,
X Find where Harron was last stationed
X Establish a safe location to review my notes and rest between hunts of the Baali
X Confirm that vampires are active wherever Harron was last stationed
Confirm that any vampires in the area are indeed Baali
Weaken their numbers then begin searching nearby caves for their “Queen”
Employ mercenaries if necessary
Destroy their Queen at all costs
Kraven set down the file slowly, looking to the chessboard on his desk.
“Azrael…” Kraven closed his eyes and pondered the name. “A single vampire… given credit for destroying my predecessors? No, impossible. No one vampire could defeat an entire nest of Baali. But…” Kraven opened his eyes, his mind racing to piece the puzzle together. “Soldiers aren’t given credit for such feats. No single soldier ever won a war, and no single soldier was ever given credit for such. The general… the one pulling the strings, is the one who is praised for victory, even if he never saw a glimpse of the front lines.”
Kraven looked to the king piece on the opposite side of the chessboard. “If Azrael is the one leading them… it would explain why he was given the entirety of the credit for defeating the prior nest of Baali…” Kraven’s eyes moved from one chess piece to the next as he slowly connected the mental strings. “And… They spoke of Azrael… neither of them claimed to be him…” Kraven recalled his own words, ‘No self respecting chess player moves his king into the middle of the board’.
Kraven lifted the black king and set it in the middle of the board, then lifted the white bishop and set it near the black king. Kraven looked at this a moment before shaking his head, it wouldn’t take a brilliant mind to tell that this didn’t look right. Kraven lifted the black king and set it back where it belonged, hidden safely behind his subjects. Kraven then lifted two black pawns, setting them next to the white bishop. He nodded to himself slowly. Azrael wouldn’t have approached the priest if he were the one pulling the strings, he would have sent pawns.
Kraven lifted the black king again, eyeing it in his hand. “Is this you, Azrael?” Kraven asked, setting the black king back on the board.
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:39:03 GMT -8
Chapter 25: Power and Blessings Her fingers lightly traced over the dagger; she could not wait to give them To Marcus. And she could not wait for father to try one out. They had come up with this idea together and Penny had made the idea a reality. She would go see the monks tomorrow and get the blessed water and lock it away until it was time to use it. Lael had brought the gifts to her, but listed two conditions. Nessa listened to the conditions and nodded making note that the second part was to tell Marcus. Lael had said she had one as well, but she could not fill her dagger with blessed water, she needed something else. Nessa told her of experimenting with silver but found no real way of liquifying it. Nessa gave Lael a glass bottle containing a potion. She explained to Lael that she had to b very careful when holding it. It was liquid fire, if dropped it could burn up to ten people at once. Lael understood and thanked her leaving her to her work in her lab. To activate it all that needed to be done was the jewel pressed or the helm pressed would release the fluid into the victim. Nessa would need to get a special box to place the daggers in and a special crate to lock the blessed water in as well. Her mind turnng to needing to speak to father about more lessons, after what they had done together summoning the wraiths she wanted to know more wanted to learn more. There was so much more to learn it was a hunger that was inside her that was begging to feed. Hunger for knowledge. Her fingers ran along the dagger once again. This had to work against the Baali.  |
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Post by Angelique on Apr 12, 2012 13:39:28 GMT -8
Chapter 26: Results
Results and Notes from test 3 of Blessed water
It took 1 minute and 02 seconds for the blessed water to take affect after being injected into the flesh through stabbing of the arm.
Eyes went wide then fell to his knees
Bleeding from nose and ears
Subject described:
Burning in stomach
Pain spreading
After about fifteen minutes subject was able to regain composer
Subject stated
"Burns away the blood acting against the blood in the system
The Blood that was there ...simply is not anymore"
It was determined that affects of dual blades would render object into Torpor or even possible death.
Used blade had to be cleansed and will be prepared once blade is cooled.
*Notes made in a black leather bound book, page marked by a dark blue ribbon*
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