RPG The Children of Sharess [R: Various Reasons]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue]"Especially one that is so implacably human. Even in his desire to be inhuman."

[i]Her smile would have broken a lesser mortal's will to pieces, but to him it would do nothing of the sort. She wasn't making eye contact with him. Either insult or simple injury he could not know. Truth be told, to none but herself, Vajain was secretly, very interested in this human sword for hire, risking his life to journey down to the Underdark. He had released his steed and come to what would assuredly be his doom. And all for money? Of course not. He was looking.

Everyone was looking. Drow and human alike. Looking for a way to find the answers. And those answers were power. Power he so desperately wanted. ....or maybe not. She sensed his deadpan expression before she raised her eyes to his own and let their gaze flicker back and forth. All the while she put her aura to work, formulating something to surprise vampyre and human alike. Even Razel's senses could not carry him that far into her.

Leon gazed into her eyes and saw what had drawn him down to the Underdark in the first place. The pale eyes that had gazed upon him while he was still with the stallion. Vajain grinned at his recognition and crossed her legs in what could've been interpereted as sweet modesty. Razel curled his lip in scorn, showing a single fang. She sensed his gathering darkness and exhaled through pursed lips.

An stream of visible breath blew down upon Razel's neck and Leon's face. Chilling them both to the bone.[/i]

"So.... ....now that you are here...Leon of the Overworld, how my I be of service to you?"

[i]He struggled to keep his teeth from chattering with the cold. Vajain smiled even more broadly and inhaled, sucking the cold from both his body and her knight's. One of the more simple cold spells she knew, and one of the most useful too.[/i]

"Or did you have some deep dark secrets you wanted to uncover with me?"[/COLOR]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=999999][i]Kyn'Dal stood with fear and he had noticed that Kishandri had a blade in her hand. She twirled it in her hand as she had her back turned from Kyn'Dal's. His voice trembled as he spoke, but he tried to cover it.[/i]

"Yes you did, lady."

[i]This time Kishandri was turned to him and his back was to her face. He suddenly turned at the tone of her voice. It was sharp filled with anger and rage. A voice that rarely appeared, but when it did, it stroke fear into the depths of every person's body.[/i]

"Then, why, may I ask, did you disobey that rule and have that poor servant go to Lady Vajain's fortress? Was it because you wished to create your army to overrun me? Was it because you wanted to create your own drider servant? Or was it because you wanted power? Hmm?"

"Lady Kishandri....let me explain."

[i]The blade waited in her hand. It glowed in the light of throne room. Kishandri's eyes shimmered in the light as well, its burning red glaring into Kyn'Dal's mind. He stood motionless with fear. Nothing came out of his mouth, but air.[/i]

"I am waiting for an answer, Kyn'Dal."

[i]Hesitation arrived. Not a word was said. With that, Kishandri raised her blade and with one swift move, her blade nearly touched his neck, until he fell to the ground on his knees and grovelled.[/i]

"Have mercy! All I wanted was to see what her power could do so that I may harness it and use it as my own power to raise an army of driders!"

[i]Kishandri's blade fell to her side once again. Her eyes still burning with rage, she looked down to the male half-drow before her.[/i]

"That's quite interesting, Kyn'Dal. I must say that I am fairly disappointed in you. Good-bye."

[i]Kyn'Dal sat up with horror. His eyes widenend as the blade cut through his neck. Not a sound came from the slashing sword, only the sound of a head thumping to the ground. Her work was down. Blood gushed from his headless body and it created a puddle of dark, red blood.

Ignoring the fact that she had severed a head in her own throne room, Kishandri wiped the blade Kyn'Dal's robe. It was still shining and bright. She knew an apology was in order to give to Vajain.

As she stepped out, servants ran to the body and cleaned it up to create the throne room to be spotless. She walked down the halls and spiders roamed freely throughout the halls. She came upon her drider servant who held her elegant, meeting robe. She quickly changed into that and walked down to a corridor towards a pair of doors which had 5 intricate emblems and designs between the opening. Each represented the clan's fortresses.

Pressing her hand against the top emblem and it sunk in. It opened a bright corridor which led to the Nur'Lograin fortress. Breathing heavily in, Kishandri walked into the light and down the corridor, leading to Vajain's fortress.[/i][/size][/color]

[skedy]

[COLOR=teal][size=1]
Granecourt stepped casually over the lifeless body as he entered the room; it was elegant yet with little exaggeration, it made the vampire feel comfortable. Lowering his left hand from its embrace of his right nestled in the small of his back Vincent began pacing the room, calmly, as one with all the time in the world. To Granecourt the interests of the drow, as with their arts, had changed little during the long years he had spent wandering aimlessly through the endlessly depths of the Underdark.

Realising that he had been left with Mazukien?s other stone faced guest Vincent finished his pacing and settled himself into the once comfortable confines of a chair, he had little memory of comfort or pain, of hope or happiness. Sitting quietly the vampire said nothing, preferring to wait for Uthegiliel to break his stern demeanour.

?The best I?ve to offer.? Mazukien returned, wine aloft and brandishing three intricate wine glasses. Setting them on a fine oak table, a luxury in the Underdark, he uncorked the bottle and poured the red liquor for his guests. Both graciously accepted the viscous liquid, Vincent wondering how long it had been since he ingested something that he did not require. The seemingly watery fluid held little taste compared with the rich bloods Granecourt was used to drinking but he sipped it quietly anyway, careful to hide his true nature from his host as the elves began talking?

[b]OOC:[/b] Again sorry for the size, its all this damn interaction, lol.[/size][/COLOR]

[Hinata]

[COLOR=indigo][SIZE=1]

She waited within her chambers for what seemed like the longest time ever. One by on the little ones exited the chambers, many of them shedding tesrs of joy some of them crying very hard for they had not been deemed ready by the counsel.

Jo'lianna could sense each of them going in and coming out and often felt sad for the one's who would now be sent home. But her tears were masked by an incredible feeling of relief, they would not have to endure the years of solitude as she was doing now.

[I] What am I talking about,[I] she shook her head as her breian began to think negative thought towards her clan. She loved the clan and most of all she loved the Goddess.

She quickly threw off the robe knowing that anyone could walk in and see her but that didn't bug her her thoguths toward the Goddess were what bugged her and she needed to purify them now.

She kept on the white gon that open in the front. Its showed the midline of her chest to her abdomen but the see through material barely left anything for the imagination.

[I] Sharess, I beg forgiveness in this time of doubt. I doubt myself.... I doubt my clan....... but most of all I feel...That I am doubting you. [/I]

Her thoughts burned into the statue of the Godess that stood infront of her, hoping that somehow Sharess could remove this impure notitions from her head, she continued to pray.

[I] For a long time I have served you faitfully but my life I feel is in solitude and for nothing. I feel I make no difference in the eyes of Orn'Baelen. I feel for the life of the next one to bear the weight of the things I did not accomplish, I do not wish such harships upon them.

I think that none other has had these thoughts toward you for they were stronger than me. More prepared and better knowlegdeable of you. I hope the light of your teaching will shine down on me once more and show me the error in my ways I hope the words reach you and brun within your heart. I pray forgiveness and guidance.[/I]

She stayed knelt in front of the statue as another knock came followed by a person.

"Priestess!"

She looked up to see a face she had not seen before a face of a man. She quickly rose and ran behind the curtain finding something to cover herself with.

"May I ask what you want and who you are, don't you know it is forbidden for men to see me or I them?"

"Yes I do but I was assured that you were covered, so I entered.."

"Well sent in the one who said that for they must be reprimanded." she answered coldy, but then it hit her, the voice. He was the one whom she had heard earlier, the one she did not know. [/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Zidargh]

[color=darkblue][i]"Or did you have some deep dark secrets you wanted to uncover with me?" Spoke Vajain, smirking at Leon's frustrated face. Leon didn't like being played with, not at all, especially a fool, but this was not the time to lose so he breathed a deep breath quietly and continued.

"As you know, I am a Mercenary, mistress. I come looking for work, I do not go so far as to being a mere assassin, nor do I kill 'enemies' without a justifiable reason, but if you can tempt me I will take up the offer."

Vajain's smirk changed into a somewhat sarcastic smile, as she began to raise her right, thin eyebrow. "And what if I do not have a request from you?" She spoke with a more gentle pitched tone in her voice.

"Then I leave." Leon replied hastily, and somewhat strongly, his patience with this woman was fading and he was soon to retire from this location.

"And you walk out, with no appointment, so you waste my time. I do not like being taken for a fool, handsome one." Vajain began to lean forward a couple of more inches into a more interrogative stance and tone of voice.

"You do not seem to be doing anything at all, Mistress, nor do I like being taken for a fool, either. Good day." Seeing that it would be a very good idea to leave now instead of angering Vajain, Leon turned gracefully and paced slowly out towards the other end of the hallways. This was until a loud sound of a mystical reflection occured and a wall that was identical to the other walls appeared a few centimetres in front of Leon, hindering his exit.

Meanwhile, after having began to anger Vajain, the man that had cut off his path earlier, seemed to have found his hand at the hilt of his fine, beautiful sword. Almost about to strike, the man clenched his fist, watching Leon's every moves with a very serious look on his face, it was obvious that he thought Leon posed a threat to his Mistress.

Leon was taken aback at the shock of the blockade, and began to hit the wall with his two fists, clenched. Without turning back he spoke, "Let me out."

"Oh? Didn't my guardians tell you of the risk it was coming here? I'm not going to let you go, THAT easily." Vajain sat back again, almost as a spectator, with her head cocked, smirking once again as she spoke.

At his most vulnerable, cornered like an animal, Leon raised his arm to hole of where his spear laid. Gripping the staff-part of the spear, he pulled it out slowly until he had the spear in both of his hands. Turning around, he squatted his right leg, pointing the blade at Vajain's, high-throne. "If this is what it has to resort to, so be it."

Leon began to charge at Vajain, head on, it was a foolish move but he had no choice, reaching nearer the throne he was ready to simply strike at Vajain's foot, nearly reaching contact until a TING sound occurred. The man seemed to have blocked his path once again, this time holding his sword with one hand, with such strength to completely halt the spear's blow. Both pressed on with their maneuvres but Leon stared directly at the man. "Such power?"

Breaking off contact, the man turned his blade to the right and twisted it so the blade was pointing at the floor whilst he held the hilt elegantly as any swordsman would. Stepping back three times and also pointing the blade to touch the floor, Leon leant on the hilt waiting for the next move. He was holding the spear too heavily and carelessly, or so he thought and so he held the spear horizontally to decrease the mass that weighed down upon his palms. "At this rate, I am going to perish."

The highly-skilled man then turned his wrist to point the blade to the ceiling and then held it diagonally across his pelvis, he then gently light footedly, ran at Leon, at a super-human pace, after reaching Leon he let out a quick swipe but Leon stepped back, barely evading the blow. "Hmm." The man spoke. "You're a harder target than I thought, I've underestimated you. But it is quite obvious you are not going to win, you are going to cause no harm to my Mistress."

Staring, Leon knew he had no choice, he had no route of escape, and he was not going lose his dignity of pleading. "Then, so be it."
Vaulting himself with his spear, Leon let go and had soared to a height of at least 16 feet, still no way nearly reaching his halls. At the peak of his height, Leon reached at his thigh, pulled out a black and dark blue, star shape object and threw it directly at the man. It's four blades spun at a speed rivalling the man's and with a grunt, the man jumped out a metre to the left, avoiding the star barely. As he did so, his top right part of his lip raised revealing a single, fang, incredibly shot. Leon caught sight of this and his heart's beat increased drastically. "A vampire!?" Leon called out as he landed onto the ground gently, and removed the shuriken impaled into the ground, rock shards scattered around it.

"That would be correct." With that, the man threw his sword pointed directly at the tip of Leon's hood, it's flight pierced the hood and caused Leon to sail with the blade as it pierced one of the walls, causing Leon to be held to the wall with his spear left on the ground with no master. The shock revealed Leon's head, a handsome, young man with dark brown hair and a thin bandanna wrapped around his forehead. Vajain fidgeted in excitement at this, she seemed to have found her 'mercenary' quite an attractive person.

The man smirked and picked up both the dropped shuriken and spear in each hand, "And the name's Razel."[/i][/color]

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue]"Stand down Razel. And return his effects."

[i]She was purring, open mouthed, wide eyed with what could be interpreted as wonderment. Her knight obeyed without question, removing his blade, sheathing it exertly, then handing back the things he had so easily taken. Leon pulled his hood on once more and grasped his weapons almost sullenly. Vajain stood, the amythest colored gown trailing down her legs, melting away into nothing at all. Leon did not gaze up at her, instead he held onto the haft of his spear and gritted his teeth. Razel snorted and returned to her side. Vajain's eyes snapped and sparked dangerously.[/i]

"One who would not make eye contact with me, must also realize that that would spell his weakness."

".....why would it be as you say?"

"I suppose.... ....I could say that I have the answers."

"I have no way of knowing."

[i]She tilted her neck to one side, her former white robes returning to cover almost every part of her. Vajain walked forwards slowly, her steps slow and steady. Her eyes were glowing, but again, Leon was not looking. Se reached out her hand to him. He was half tempted to cut it off, but then realized that her hand was changing into the claw of a wolf. His eyes grew large, and he began to realize just what was standing in front of him, and coming towards him.[/i]

"If you swear fealty to me, I will answer all of your questions before your death."

"And if I do not wish to swear that to you?"

"Then you will be free to go. And be free to be slain under any other clan's whim."

"........ ....."

[i]She was smiling now, her hand had dropped down as she had spoken, returning to its natural form.[/i][/color]

[Ben]

Uthegiliel sat quietly in his chair, absently sipping at the wine. It wasn't bad, but its age was flea-like in comaprison to his own. Uthegiliel was 4863 years old, and he had seen quite a bit and known many people.

The only race he had seen that possessed no reflections were vampires. And Granecourt most certainly was missing on. There was a large mirror mounted on the wall further down the room. Granecourt either did not care that they find out who he was, or he had not seen the mirror. Uthegiliel rose to his feet, motioning for Mazukien to follow him.

"We'll be back," he said. "Mazukien and I have private Dra'Coryul business to discuss."

"Of course." Granecourt politely nodded.

Uthegiliel took Mazukien several rooms away from the vampire, then closed the door behind them. "Granecourt is a vampire." he said shortly.

"How can you be sure?" asked Mazukien. "He seems like an ordinary man. A little odd, perhaps, and arrogant,; what makes you think that he's a vampire?"

"The mirror in your sitting room. He was sitting right in its path, but he didn't have any reflection! I saw the chair he was sitting in well enough, but his appearence was absent from the mirrors depths!" he said hoarsely.

"Calm down, Uthegiliel." replied Mazukien. "So we now know that he's a vampire. What difference does that make?"

"Vampires are not like ordinary men, Mazukien." Uthegiliel said solemnly. "They feed off of the living, and they possess incredible strength and speed. They are also of the undead, which makes them exceptionally hard to kill."

"I know all of this already, Uthegiliel, why are you making such a fuss about it?" asked Mazukien.

"Because boy, you've got to realize that he [I]is[/I] dangerous. You can't just brush him off as some haughty nobleman."

"I think you're overreacting. Let's go back now; we wouldn't want to leave him alone with that corpse too long."

"Vampires don't feed off the [B]dead.[/B]" Uthegiliel muttered as they walked out.

[The Vampire: Ed]

"Vajain." A voice hisses from afar through the darkness watching the Nur'Lograin castle. "My judge, and jury. My creator. Banishing your greatest creation just because he was not willing to do things as you wished. I'll have my revenge for damning be to that infernal prison of lava and brimstone."

A large creature steps from the shadows, it's skin pale and almost transparent, with the lower extremities of an arachnid. It's long white hair flowed down it's spine, and it's eyes glistened of pure white. It donned an almost tribal face paint, two triangular shapes beneath his eyes paint of blood. It was what was known as Drider, a breed of a largely feared species, however this one differed slightly in the usually appearance due to being transformed into a Drider, rather than born one.

He grinned, and chuckled to himself realizing his dream of revenge was about to come true. The Drider crawled along the walls towards the gate, his pace slow at first, but soon became quicker as he spotted one of the guards returning to their post. He leapt off the wall pouncing on the guard dragging them back through the front gate, and with a small curvy dagger swiftly slit her neck before she could call for help. The Drider relished the feeling, but returned to his mission at hand as he scaled the castle walls climbing in through a large window in a hallway, then crawl upon the ceiling. Turning a corner he found himself looking down at another guard patrolling the corridors, slowly creeping over him the Drider impaled the guard through the skull with a tremendous downward stab.

Back in Vajain's thrown room, Leon stood watching Vajain and her willing, and faithful knight, Razel. It was then that Razel began to smell a familiar aroma, one he had lusted for his entire vampiric life.

"Blood..." Razel mutters as he steps forward watching the door as Vajain looked to her knight. "Someone has spilled the blood of a Drow in the corridor, trouble is close."

Leon's looked confused forgetting that vampires had an enhanced sense of smell among their other qualities, but realized Razel was indeed correct as he hurt screaming of the doormen outside of the throne room. It suddenly became quiet after the sound of two bodies collapsing against the stone floor, then the door is suddenly knocked down tearing it's steel hinges from the wall. The door crashed against the floor as the Drider most in slowly out of the dim lit hall grinning evilly at Vajain as she immediately recognized him.

"You!" Vajain said as she stood looking angered. "Malvo! How dare you come here?"

The Drider revealed to be Molvo, a creation of Vajain, shook his dagger with the still fresh blood of her guards splattering the stone floor. "You make me what I am, then banish me for now bowing to you like some mindless slave. How dare I? How dare you?!" Molvo yelled as he moved closer with his eyes looked onto Vajain totally oblivious to the other two being in the room with them.

"I created you, and you killed my guards, my servants, and my slaves. Your addiction of murder forced me to banish you. If anything I was far too lenient with you, Molvo. I suppose I'll just have to destroy you like I should have so long ago." Vajain stated boldly with the large beast standing before her.

Vajain took a step down, but only made it that far as Razel quickly stood in front of her to protect his mistress. "No, you should not dirty your hands on scum like this. I shall take care of him for you." Razel said staring a hole through Malvo as he began to return one of his own.

"So you made yourself another little toy, huh, Vajain? Fool, I'll crush you. Whatever it takes to get to her." Malvo said as he pointed at Vajain admonishing him with a look of her own. "I assure you, Malvo, I fully trust Razel to be capable of putting you out of your misery." Vajain replied with a smirk, which in turn brought a sinister looking grin to Razel's face.

Malvo sneered at the both of them ignoring the other man in the room, then quickly charged at Razel. Razel ducked the dagger smashing Malvo across the back of the neck with his gauntlet clad left hand. Malvo showed little emotion from the blow, and answer with a backhand of his own almost knocking Razel off is feet. Razel was taken by surprise at Malvo strength, never having faced a Drider before he realized he was underestimating Malvo's abilities. Ravel drew his sword in time to block Mavlo's dagger in mid slash, but was once again taken off guard as Malvo lean back slightly kicking him with his front legs.

Malvo slashed again, this time striking Razel across the cheek bringing forth a small stream of blood running down his face. Razel's rage began to build as he retaliated, leaping into the air he struck Malvo over the head with his gauntlet again, then followed up with a cross slash to his chest. Both having all ready struck their first blows just went into a frenzy of swinging blades, kicks, and punches. They missed more than hit due to their speed, but still did a significant amount of damage to each other, but it was Razel on the short end of the stick as a Drider posses a much higher pain threshold.

Malvo leapt forward kicking Razel in the chest sending him flying back through a table in the corner, leaving him immobilized for the moment. Malvo quickly turned his sights to Vajain now vulnerable to attack, and charged at her with his dagger pointed towards her chest. Vajain stepped back and turned her head as the blade was about to pierce her flesh, but when it didn't she looked back to find Razel impaled in her place. He had leapt from the debris in time to take the blow in her place, the sharp dagger somehow managed to pierce his tough armor. Razel grunted, and gritted his teeth as Malvo mocked him laughing in her face at his loyalty to Vajain.

Malvo pushed the blade in even deeper, the tip brushing against Vajain's arm leaving a streak of Razel's blood on her flesh, then he twisted the blade to further damage Razel. Razel's eyes flashed a dark crimson color as he retaliated shoving his blade through Molvo's stomach, then headbutted him as he leaned forward in pain. The bridge of Malvo's nose almost snapped under the pressure of the blow, but somehow withstood it however not without drawing more blood. Malvo's blood splattered the face of Razel as they shoved each other around with their blades impaled into the other one. Razel's began to weaken, but not as much as Malvo. For some odd reason he began to weaken rapidly, but then realize Vajain had begun to interfere by attempting to transform him back to whatever he was before she turned him into a Drider. An aura, dark, began to surround Malvo, but before it could take effect shoved Razel as he pulled away and fled through the window like the thief in the night.

Malvo had escaped that time, but her would be back eventually to kill Vajain. However, he had not escape without doing major damage to Razel. The gaping wound from Malvo's blade in Razel's chest caused a massive amount of blood loss especially after being removed. Razel became weak as he stumbled to his mistress and attempted to kneel before her, but simply collapsed and then fell unconscious.

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]Vajain, her arms holding her knight steady, turned her head to glance at Leon, who had swiftly removed himself and stayed in the shadows, well out of danger. Her eyes flashed a brilliant silver and she inclined her head.[/i]

"If you are done.... ....and have no further requests of me, Leon the Mercenary, please take yourself elsewhere until a more suitable date."

"Are you asking me to leave the fortress?"

"If that is your wish, you may. But if you desire to replace the guard that was slain by Malvo, you may. And take my colors with you."

[i]He narrowed one eye, then nodded. Vajain pointed two fingers at him on her right hand and whispered a swift incantation. Instantly, the sign of the pentacle burned itself onto his shoulder, through armour and clothing and flesh. He winced, then grasped his spear and left the throne room.

Vajain Nur'Lograin held Razel, concern written on her face. Klian, in his own throne room, turned his own head and listened to steps down the corridor. The Vas'Nurnae representative would be bidden to speak with him and not his mistress.

With steady hands, no longer shaking from worry, the female Drow placed her body against his, putting pressure over the gaping wound. She could hear his heart beating, and she laughed aloud. The wound had barely grazed the edge of his weakness, and was easily repairable. Blood poured from the wound, then swiftly slowed down to nothing much at all. Vajain lowered her head to the wound and slowly licked the disarayed jagged edges of flesh down, her saliva acting as a sealant. Before long, the wound on both sides had scabbed over and sealed itself, leaving a very minor scar. A scar that was more from Vajain's body than Malvo's. Razel's color was still not right, and Vajain raised her arm to her lips, bitting the inside of the wrist. She placed it gently at her knight's lips, her fingers caressing the sides of his face. Then she lowered her lips to his ear, and his eyes flew open at the sound.[/i]

"....Razel, awaken. Feed and renew yourself."[/color]

[Zidargh]

[color=darkblue][i]After the words Vajain spoke, Razel almost in a spasm, bit onto the wrist of his mistress, sucking the blood out of her arteries to quench his thirst. Meanwhile, Leon could be seen stepping onto the fallen door to exit the throne room as he applied pressure with his right hand, the burning was reducing in pain but didnt seem to cease. Removing the hand, Leon, with both hands placed the spear into the back of his armour which made a clicking sound. Feeling his armour with the few scratches left by the fallen Razel in their conflict, it appeared his robe had been cut off, but it didn't matter, Leon was now an equal to Razel, he was now Vajain's.

In the archway where the door stood, over a trail of blood left by Malvo, Leon leaned on one of the sides and crossed his arms. Looking to the left he could see two fallen guards, both sliced at the torso gruesomly, faces on the floor as their helmets laid splayed, still rolling from the attack Malvo caused. Closing his eyes, Leon tried to regain whatever memory he had of the sudden incident that had occurred, it was all too fast, he had only come for a job and now he is at Vajain's bidding, however, at least it declared a shelter and safety.

Turning to the right, he noticed Razel still feeding on Vajain's arm, slurping with what little blood drops were allowed to escape while Vajain's silver eyes stared straight at her knight cradled with her. It was surprising, Leon felt a connection with Vajain, he did not understand, nor did he know what this connection could develop into, but it led to confusion.

The air was now cold, while a small breeze blew through the halls, swaying spikes of Leon's hair, supported by the bandanna. Looking down at the rubble and dust beneath his feet, Leon raised his hands and untied his bandanna, resting it in his hands until he looked to the right again, at the beautiful woman of which he now served. Regaining his balance, Leon turned to the right and walked towards the feeding knight and his mistress, trying to avoid whatever blood spatter in his path. Once he reached the duo, he kneeled on one knee and waited for Vajain to finish the feeding.

The woman looked up as Razel laid down, silent and still as Vajain placed him on the floor looking at Leon with the bandanna in his hands.

"Here, my Mistress. Let me heal your wounds." Leon spoke gently looking into Vajain's silver eyes.

Grabbing the blood drenched arm, Leon gently wrapped the bandanna around the wound and knotted it firmly as he placed his hand on the knot, still holding Vajain's hand, he then looked up. "It may not be much, but I'm only human."

Leon, then stood up and headed back towards the doorway, until he stopped and turned his head to the left. "Call for me Vajain, and I will be there, I trust that you will tell your people of my place in your clan, I will just be outside the doorway, putting your two servants to a peaceful rest." Leon, then continued walking.

Vajain still looked on at the man, curious and somewhat infatuated as Leon walked to the slaughtered guards and knelt down to clean them up.[/i][/color]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=999999][i]Kishandri stood at the doorways of the fortress. With one hand pressed against the door, she said a quiet greeting and let it flow from her lips. It sounded through the halls and hoped it would reach the ears of the female drow that stood in the fortress.


It had. Vajain looked abrupt and around to hear what she had heard. It was Kishandri's voice that had reached her ears. Her voice was soft, smooth, and yet it had a hint of the fierceness of a drider's roar. She knew what she had heard and looked towards someone and nodded. They left for the large, wooden doors and opened it to let in a slender drow with hair that fell to her waist and gleaming nails. They led Kishandri to where Vajain had been and she was found.

Kishandri looked to Vajain and gave a small bow of respect and walked to her. Guards had been killed, knights had been murdered, and there stood a creature that Vajain had created that went by the name of Razel.[/i]

"Kishandri. How good of you to see me."

"Do not take this quite to heart, Vajain." [i]Kishandri looked around the slaughter that was created around her.[/i] "Might I ask what happened here?"

".......Molvo."

[i]Kishandri's eyes widened and looked into Vajain's silver eyes that shimmered in the light.[/i] "Molvo? Your drider?"

".....Yes. He disgusts me. Do not worry not all driders disgust me. Only those who disrespect and rebel against clan leaders disgust me. So, what is the reason you are here for? It wouldn't be about the messenger would it?"

"Alas, it is. I came to give my apologies. His master knew he was not to send anyone or even talk to the clan leaders without my consent and yet he had wanted power so he came to you. With that, I give you my deepest regrets."

"Quite alright, child. It is not entirely all your fault. I hope that you have dealt with the... infedel."

".......Do Vas'Naurnae drow women let idiocy run amuck in their halls?"

"Hmm. Then you have done what you were to do. But, I think it would have been best if he were to speak to Klian instead of you."

"I understand. But, what's done is done. And while I'm here, is there any matter that you should speak to me about?"[/size][/color]

[Raiha]

[color=royalblue][i]Vajain reflected quietly, seeming to observe the rappidly healing skin that spread gracefully over her wrist, visible through the soaked bandana. She grinned and looked up, her eyes snapping with amusement. Razel eyed the Vas'Nurnae with a cold eye. He had risen to his feet sometime during the verbal exchange and appeared to be darkening once more. His eyes glimmered faintly as he took a step forward. The female in question glared back at him. They exchanged in a battle of wills...... ..which was abruptly cut off by a smooth cultured voice that could've only belonged to Klian Nur'Lograin.

He had put on his circlet, adjusted his robes, and entered the room without a sound. Then he took a step forward, the swish of his robes bringing both Drow lady and Vampyre man back to reality. Razel stood his ground, still eyeing the woman.[/i]

"I sincerely hope I'm not inturrupting anything."

[i]The female leader of the clan would've breathed a sigh of relief, at his perfec timing, but it simply was not the right time for that. Instead she stood as well, any traces of pain removed as the bandana fell to the floor. To come between the two would've certainly been interesting, if a waste of her power.[/i]

"Oh surely not. .....I was hoping you could escort the Lady of the Vas'Nurnae to your chambers for refreshment and conversation."

"But of course."

[i]He turned, a model of courtly manners and chivalry. He offered his arm to her, his eyes sparkling with what could've been sincerity.[/i]

"Milady?"

[i]Kishandri's eyes narrowed, and she broke the connction betwen herself and Razel. With a similar swish of her robes, she took her leave, the throne room doors opening easily. Klian played his part perfectly and took her arm up with his.

Vajain snarled as the doors reappeared, her fists tightening ever so slightly. Razel bowed at her feet, picking up the bandana and handing it to her. She took it up in her hands, gripping it tightly, almost ripping it to shreds with her nails as she vented her spleen.[/i]

"That lying bitch. Coming here like that...... ....Leon!"

[i]He looked up from his task and entered the throne room. Vajain composed herself and handed him his bandana, being carefult to hold it with the arm that had been wounded.[/i]

"My thanks. ......... ....."

[i]He accepted it gratefully, looking at the recently scarred flesh.[/i]

"Are you healed?"

"I am quite fine... ...watch Klian and the lady Kishandri please. And watch yourself. That Vas'Nurnae is not a safe person."[/color]

[skedy]

[COLOR=teal][size=1]
Granecourt rose gently to his feet and continued browsing the room in his hosts? absence, learning all that he could of the changes their race had undergone during his long wanderings. Crossing to the elegant mantle crowning the flickering fire Vincent peered curiously at the numerous ornaments and oddities kept there, it was as he stood there that the door opened and the elves reappeared.
One arm on the mantle the vampire looked to his hosts using the mirror occupying the wall above, it took the ancient being a moment to realize that he was looking through himself at the elves, surely revealing his true nature to those keen enough to see it.
The change in the drows? demeanors was obvious to the vampire, though small it was there. They had surely discussed what he was but neither reacted different to him, both returned to their seats and reclaimed the glasses of the fledgling wine, continuing to sip the water liquid slowly.
Granecourt returned to his chair, suddenly cautious of the elves, weary of their intent?[/size][/COLOR]

[The Vampire: Ed]

Razel held his hand over his chest still in pain, but he hid it well. The wound had been sealed shut, and it would take a little time for Vajain's blood to revitalize him after the massive blood loss in the battle with the Drider, Malvo. Razel looked back seeing Vajain giving Leon an order, and became jealous that another was there to do part of his job, his life. The guards were nothing compared to the likes of Razel, so it made him all the more depended on, but with a man like Leon around Razel knew he had competition. Every time Leon even batted an eye at Vajain he felt a bit of rage slowly boiling within him, but to please his mistress he would attempt to put his pettiness aside for her sake.

"Malvo..." Razel whisper to himself expecting one day to meet him again, but the next time he hoped he would be strong enough to dispatch of this creature that vowed to murder Vajain.

Vajain looked towards Razel seeing him staring at the floor with a look of disgust, and anger on his face. "Calm yourself, Razel. You did well." Vajain said as Razel return his eyes to hers attempting to look as if she had been able to cheer him up. "I did well?" Razel thought to himself. "No, I must do better or the next time..."

Elsewhere in a large cave dimly lit by pools of lava scattered about, Malvo return to his lair holding his stomach blocking of the blood flow. It was only a minor wound really, especially for a creature of his magnitude. He was once the true testament to Vajain power, excelling in nearly all physical attributes compared to most being, but it was his rebellious natures, and murderous addition that caused his banishment. Truth be told, if he had been loyal and obedient Razel would never have been created most likely for his services we never have been required. Malvo would have been more than enough as her guard.

"Damn that witch!" Malvo roared as his shuffled quickly carrying him across the cave before a small pool of lava. "This Razel must die for coming between me and my goal. Next time we meet I will not hold back, I will not underestimate him. Razel, and Vajain will join my collection."

Malvo lit a torch holding it close to one of the cavern walls exposing thousands of corpses, bones, and remains attached to the wall. Malvo had only been free for about a month, and his addition to destroying life had all ready given him the body count that of an army. He was a menace, not only to Vajain, but to all living creatures. He would have to be stopped to prevent his on going campaign of death.

Malvo held the blade of his dagger under the flame of the torch, then as the blade's tip began to turn a bright red he touched it to the wound on his stomach. He roared in pain for but a moment, then slipped into a feeling of euphoric bliss feeling his flesh being mended together under the intense heat of the blade.

Slowly Malvo turned his head moving the torch towards a darkened corner revealing a Drow women bound and gagged. Malvo smiles sadistically as he approaches the girl. "Miss me? We've got a little time on our hands, what say we have a little fun?" Malvo grins as he holds the blade of his dagger in front of his face staring at it blood cover edges. The girls muffled screams can be heard through out the cavern, follow by the hideous laughter of Malvo then that unquestionable sound of flesh being torn.

[Dagger]

As Renier turned to leave, he found himself facing a white-robed Drow woman, only an inch or two shorter than he. She smiled at him, yellow eyes flashing in amusement. "An admirable effort, Ambassador. Our clans can be so stubborn."

Wondering why she seemed familiar, the vampire took note of her flame-colored hair and scarlet tattoos. The Holy Eye of Sharess had been etched upon her forehead, and though something about the symbol unsettled him, it clearly marked her as a Kai'Belborun mage. An instant later, he realized that the tattoo was inverted, drawn upside down as though to mock the Goddess.

"And you are...?" Renier inquired, watching the woman closely.

"Lady Arciela of the Kai'Belborun," she replied. "I'm sure you've seen my face before." [i]The necromancer. Of course.[/i] He offered little sign of recognition, but Ciel smiled nonetheless, lips curving in a gentle, half-teasing sort of expression. "May I ask a favor of you?"

Though the board room was nearly empty, ministers still whispered in its doorway. His heightened senses allowed him to sift through their dissatisfied murmurs, listening for interesting phrases or unkept secrets. Renier tore his attention away from these sibiliant sounds and glanced back at Lady Arciela. Identical crimson marks streaked from her cheekbones to her jaw, glistening like bloody teardrops in the light.

For a moment, the hunger surged within him; he suppressed it with the self-control that came from nearly a millenia's worth of living. "That depends on what you desire."

"Oh?" Ciel raised her head to meet his eyes. "If you're not tied up this evening, I'd like to have a spar. I haven't dueled anyone decent in at least two hundred years, and the Vas'Naurnae are growing too predictable."

[Doukeshi]

Renier raised an eyebrow, inclining his head slightly as he absorbed her proposal. The great necromancer Lady Arciela had challenged him to a duel, a spar of sorts. It was an intreuging proposition and one he did not consider lightly. Of course there were the diplomatic benefits of this encounter, for if he accepted then their interaction may spur easier negotiations between their two houses. On the other hand, he himself was quite willing to agree on the grounds that it too had been many years since he had felt himself adequetly(sp?) challenged. He was part of a peaceful house that prefered talk over action, of course. Though, the apprehension he felt at being offered this by one of such an infamous nature could not be ignored.

Resting his hands deep into the expansive sleeves of his Ambassadorial robe he bowed regally towards the lady, a faint smile playing about his lips.

"I would be honoured to accept your request my lady." Reaching forward he took her graceful hand in his own and brushed his lips across the skin in a delicate gesture.

A broad smile stretched across Ciel's face.

"Excellent, I shall have my servants escort you to my chambers when you are ready." Her voice purred it's appreciation and she inclined her head to him in recognition before sweeping through the door of the board room, leaving a crowd of murmering officials in her wake.

Renier shot annoyed glances at the diplomats who scurried away under the intensity of his gaze. For certain this would be an interesting encounter. One, it would seem, not soon fotgotten.

[Domon]

[COLOR=darkred][SIZE=1][i]Sitting back into the armchair in his sitting room, Mazukien finally looked up at the large mirror sitting behind Granecourt. Uthegiliel was right, the man was a vampire. Smirking Mazukien stood back up with his glass in hand, his leather gloves now off and on the cabinet sitting near the room's doors and above that cabinet hung his sword. Setting the glass down Mazukien picked up his sword and held it as he formulated a plan.[/i]

"Have you ever seen a sword so grand?" [i]Mazukien said as he looked over at Uthegiliel, who simply shook his head.[/i]

"I thought not, this sword was custom made. The blade was made so large so as to counterbalance the weight of the handle. Anyways, to me this sword is absolutely perfect in any.. Ouch!" [i]Mazukien said a little surprised. The blade had slipped and sliced his hand open slightly and a steady stream of blood spilled down the handle of the blade, onto the demon shaped mouth, and then onto the blade. Mazukien was definetly assured Granecourt was a vampire because at the sight of his blood the man certainly perked up. Grinning a little sinisterly, Mazukien hefted his sword up and walked towards Granecourt.[/i]

"Hmmm.. You seemed interested in the sight of my blood. Vampire." [i]Granecourt looked taken aback but then smirked.[/i]

"So, you know what I am then. Well I shall make your deaths quick and painless." [i]Mazukien grunted and lunged towards Granecourt who simply dodged, leaped towards the mantle and sat there for a few brief seconds before he leapt at Mazukien full force.[/i][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Ben]

(Seeing as in you never posted that Granecourt had a weapon, skedy, I'm going to assume that he has none other than the supernatural powers of a vampire.)

Mazukien slashed the vampire across his perfect face, marring the features for a few moments. Granecourt did a backflip to distance himself from Mazukien and to prepare himself for the conflict. The gash in his face slowly closed, causing Mazukien's eyes to widen in surprise.

"I warned you, you fool!" shouted Uthegiliel.

Granecourt snarled, and then leapt at Mazukien, closing the distance between them at an impossibly swift move. His feet seemed not to even touch the floor as he was suddenly right up in Mazukien's face, fangs bared.

Uthegiliel, seeing his friend in such a frightening position, cast his lance at the undead creature. The blade sank into the vampire's side, conveniently sliding in between Granecourt's ribs. Granecourt was distracted by this maneuver and gave a second's pause. Mazukien used this instant to slam his fist down onto the lance.

The resulting leverage caused several of Granecourt's ribs to splinter and break. Granecourt hissed in pain, and roughly shoved Mazukien away, his inhuman strength causing the Drow to fly into the wall. He then yanked out the lance and tossed it aside. Already the wound from the lance was closing.

Dazed for a moment, Mazukien stood up and was grabbed roughly by the throat. "You should have listened to your old friend, Mazukien." Granecourt snarled. "You might have lived to finish out this night."

Mazukien coughed and then spoke, his voice hoarse. "Don't count me out just yet."

Granecourt looked at him suspiciously, and then noticed that he still held his sword tightly in his hand. The sword was glowing, and it had begun to radiate intense heat. Suddenly, it burst into flame.

Granecourt recoiled, frantically smacking the parts of his clothes that had begun to smolder. Mazukien followed him, swinging his burning sword. Granecourt continued to bare his fangs, but knew that he would light up like a match should the flames touch his ancient decaying skin.

Mazukien tried to hit him, he really did, but Granecourt was simply too fast for him. His vampire blood gave him incredible agility, perhaps moreso than the young Drow could handle. And it seemed as if even Uthegiliel had abandoned him.

Granecourt, sensing Mazukien's nervousness at being alone, slammed his hand into Mazukien's forearm, knocking the sword from his grasp. With a vicious cry, he struck a mighty blow to Mazukien's chest, sending him reeling over the oak table.

"And now you die, Mazukien!" he sneered.

[I]"Stone bind!"[/I]

Uthegiliel had appeared with a newly formed golem, this one only the size of a man, and in a man's shape too. He had his hand on the golem's chest, focusing his mind on the feel of the rock, and encasing Granecourt within it.

Granecourt struggled as the thin sheet of rock quickly overtook his body. His body was grotesquely distorted as the bind was completed.

"It will not hold him for long!" warned Uthegiliel. His golem hefted something in its hand. It was a long wooden shaft. "If we can pierce his heart with wood, it will paralyze him."

Before the golem could get near enough, however, the stone figure shattered, and an enraged Granecourt bellowed at them. "You can not kill me! I am of the undead!"

Mazukien quickly grabbed up his sword and cast it end over end at Granecourt. The force and speed drove the blade straight through Granecourt's shoulder and into the wall. Uthegiliel and his golem rushed forward. Granecourt futilely struggled to get free from the wall, but the blade was firmly planted. He extended his arms to ward off the golem's thrust.

Uthegiliel flicked his wrist and the legs of one of Mazukien's chairs suddenly became miniature, arrow-shaped golems. They launched themselves straight at Granecourt and pinned his arms to the wall.

The golem plunged the wooden shaft straight into Granecourt's undead heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where are we going?" asked Mazukien. "We haven't killed him."

"We're bringing him into the city. There is a necromancer there that I think might have some interest in the body of an undead." replied Uthegiliel. They were riding alongside his golem, which firmly held the wooden stake in Granecourt's chest. He was not going to be moving on his own anytime soon.

[Dagger]

Humming gently as she moved, Ciel let her robes slide from her shoulders to pile softly on the floor. Beneath the ceremonial costume, she wore a deep green ensemble which bared far more than it concealed, and clung miraculously to gravity-defying curves. She had sent Mira to wait on Renier in the drawing room below; now it was merely a matter of readying the arena.

She loved combat nearly as much as she loved necromancy, and so her estate housed a state-of-the-art building intended solely for duels. Enchanted by several of Ciel's sorcery-using friends, it sent its occupants into an alternate dimension, allowing them to spar freely without fear of wreaking havoc in the real world. Though her favorite place to fight was in the Vas'Naurnae's territory, she sensed that it might be unwise to take the High Ambassador of the Cal'Sakmeht into such a place.

[center]**********************[/center]

The little girl gazed solemnly at Renier, her hands clasped demurely behind her back. "Would you like something to drink?" she inquired. A empty goblet sat on the table between them.

He recoiled inwardly at the sight of her heavily scarred lips, but shook his head without betraying his mental revulsion. Who was this child? She looked no more than nine or ten. "I'll pass," the Ambassador told her. "All the same, it was good of you to offer."

She continued watching him with that blank, steady stare, and then walked over to a cabinet, rummaging through its contents until she found a tiny knife. Her face still devoid of all emotion, she sliced the blade lengthwise down her wrist and extended her hand so that the blood spilt neatly into the crystal chalice. Not a single drop splashed upon the polished table below.

Renier froze, momentarily transfixed.

"I cannot die," the girl said calmly. "Are you sure you don't want to drink?"

[center]**********************[/center]

Somewhere in the distance, a bell had begun to ring. Raising an eyebrow at the unexpected intrusion, Ciel made her way to the front gate. [i]Please be sure to keep the Ambassador entertained,[/i] she told Mira.

[i]As you wish,[/i] came the girl's reply. She had such a sweet, lilting voice. Perhaps Ciel would teach her how to sing, how to weave magic through the air with the simplest of melodies. At this thought the necromancer stopped, her eyes widening as she caught sight of her visitors and their cargo.

"Uthegiliel?" the woman asked, obviously delighted. "It's been a long time."

[Zidargh]

[color=darkblue][i] Leon lifted his hand gently, surveying the bloodied bandanna that Vajain had returned. Walking over to the window in the wall of which he was nearly impaled into, Leon leaned out and let the bandanna drift out of the fortress, letting the cold air refresh his skin, it was rejuvenating. Looking up, the pitch black sky laid it's blanket, with light from magical fairies floating around, dimming and brightening.

As Vajain let out her curses of anger, Leon turned to find not only Vajain, but Razel looking at him with his head tilted downwards, a sinister sight. It was very obvious, Razel's jealousy, and so, foolish as it may have seemed, Leon went to be rid of the tension between the two. Not exchanging a look with Vajain, Leon kept his head down as he walked slowly in a constant pace towards the loyal vampire, this was until he stopped staring at Razel who had seemed to calm, his eyes turning to a dark shade of crimson.

"Razel, brave and honourable knight. I can understand what it is you're feeling--" Leon spoke softly until he was interrupted.

"You understand nothing." Razel replied in a whisper to not disturb his mistress's peace.

"Well if that is the case, I will state this, now that I am part of your clan, no matter what you may think of me, I will look out and protect you aswell as Vajain." Leon replied and turned, closing his eyes. Razel seemed to look down as his eyes became a brighter shade, and he thought. This comment that Leon said had somewhat made an affect to him, perhaps this mysterious ex-mercenary is not trying to pose as a threat.

Leon returned to follow his path back to the window until he stopped behind Vajain and asked, "This distrust for these guests? Does this mean war is soon to come?"

Vajain smiled at Leon's naivety, of course, Leon was still a seed and had yet to bloom in the ways of the Nur'Lograin clan. "My child, War cannot be predicted, nor can it be prevented in this matter, however, I may be wrong, we shall see. At the moment though, if things carry on as they are, then yes it will most probably occur."

Nodding, Leon wandered to exit the throne room, pushing the doors and closing them again as he looked around. He was curious of these new guests, but he wasn't going to wander anywhere until he had to, so standing outside of the doors, he was to think and rest while he could. These recent turn of events had been so immediate, and who was this Molvo?

The cleaned guards had been carried off for a burial, and still the floors were tainted with blood, as were the walls. Bending down Leon pulled out a handkerchief and wiped up what was left of the murder, after completing the task he fixated himself with back to the wall, sitting, where he closed his eyes to sleep.[/i][/color]

[Raiha]

[COLOR=royalblue][i]Vajain closed her eyes, leaning against the cool marble of her throne. Everything was quiet, at peace, silent and wonderful.

"Sharess...... ...guide me please. What would you have me do? I am very much alone, despite the excellent warriors I posess.... ......what if war really does approach?"

Her sigh echoed breathily over the still halls. It was a sibilant sound, reverberating slightly, increasing in sound, then fading away into nothing. The hand of Sharess descended gently upon Vajain's mind, caressing it ever so softly. A darkening peace overwhelmed Vajain's mind, and her moan registered in the ears of both guard and hire alike.

"I would have to act as our clan always has. Make no mistakes, compensate for weakness, be calm at the Council of the Nine. So easy to say... .....easier to do when surrounded by the other nobles.... .....so very young."

Then she opened her eyes again and everything shimmered ever so slightly. She stood, her hair falling down to her waist. Vajain grinned and raised her hands, spreading them out over the hall. The lights in the walls dimmed, signalling the end of yet another eventful day. She stepped down from the throne, down the three steps, and smiled again. Razel and Leon approached her swiftly, bowing as they came.[/i]

"What is it mistress?"

"I am tired. .....it's time for rest."

"We will have guards posted."

"Of course."

[i]She exited, the doors magicking open and closed for her as she glided across the room. Then she turned and headed down the hall, through a veritable warren of passageways and tunnels. Her own chambers appeared, the pentacles and upside down doors marking it as her own. She entered slowly, permitting both her knights to enter.

As soon as they did, they felt the presence of centuries descend upon them. Inscence burned on the countertop, several vials and potions resting against the shelves. Innumerable books and scrolls neatly organized on the walls, an array of staffs and knives hanging from hooks. She smiled and sat on her futon, her legs crossed delicatley.[/i]

"Make yourselves comfortable."

[i]She indicated the various settes and chairs.[/i][/COLOR]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=999999][i]There was sign of relieved tension, but for some reason, Kishandri was still alert and cautious. She was careful around Klian, Vajain's brother.

Klian had taken Kishandri to his room and sat her down in a dark, red velvet chair. He then sat opposite of her. She looked around the room and noticed its amenities. She then looked to him and noticed he had summoned someone to bring refreshments to his room. She smiled curtiously and dared not to touch her drink, as of yet.[/i]

"Well, then. Is there a matter you wish to speak with me, Klian?"

"My dear lady. I think we should conversate before we speak of business. Don't you think?"

"...Perhaps, we should."

[i]A sly grin came over Klian's face. A young drow leader of the Vas'Naurnae clan was just as vulnerable as a slave to the drow. He looked to her and smiled. The tip of Kishandri's finger circled the edge of the cup that remained on the table. Klian had noticed this.[/i]

"You haven't touched your drink. Is there something else you wish to drink, milady?"

"Hmm?" [i]Kishandri looked to Klian's face.[/i] "No. I....I'm quite alright."

[i]She picked up the cup and let the aroma fill around her before she took a sip. It was a strong and vigorating scent. Something about it made her feel drowsy, yet at the same time she was concious.[/i]

"Klian, don't you wish you had power?"

"Milady?"

"I mean. Don't you wish you were just as great as your sister is? Don't you want to put fear in people? Or do you just want to do as your sister wants you to do?"

"I am quite comfortable with my position, if that is what your asking."

[i]Kishandri sighed and sipped more of the drink before her. This time, she couldn't stay focused on Klian. She was feeling drowsy and at this moment something told her that the drink was tampered with.[/i][/size][/color]

[skedy]

[COLOR=teal][size=1]
Granecourt lay still, careful not to reveal his ruse to the incompetent drow. As many before them they had; the elves assumed that the vampire?s blackened heart lay on his left when in fact to rested easily among the ribs on his right, undisturbed by the crude stake.

Vincent was beginning to tire of his mischievous as the group came to the stop and a third voice filled the air; it was soft, cold, feminine. With the creak of the heavy iron gate Granecourt summoned his will and prepared himself.

The pathetic creations Uthegiliel called golems crumbled to the earth they had once been as Granecourt summoned his ancient will, leaving the drow to land heavily on the path. The vampire had removed the misplaced stake from his chest and found himself fully healed by the time he touched the ground.

Taking the barest of moments to glance at his surroundings, the vampire sprung into the air with a swiftness unseeable even to the keen eyes of the drow. The gate flew back catching Ciel off guard before throwing her to the ground several feet away where she was left to watch the dismemberment of her friend.

Uthegiliel pulled himself from the ground, eyes darting across the rocky terrain with frantic panic. Even before the inevitable sense of dread climbed from the pit of his stomach and settled in his throat the drow heard his should pop sickly, his necked following it to the right with a sudden jar.

Ciel pulled herself from the dirt, her graceful posture returning as quickly as it had been torn away, and watched what appeared to be a blur move into Uthegiliel. She watched his arm violently rotate in its socket, finishing it revolution before being thrown clear with a torrent of blood. The proud drow dropped to his knees, overwhelmed with pain and feint with blood loss.

Marukien scrambled to his feet, confused and bewildered he took in the surroundings. ?In the years of my absence the drow have all but failed to grow if you are to be reckoned as average. Your art, the way you kill, even your wine his failed to ripen.? Granecourt?s voice drifted over the elf?s shoulder, suddenly cold with a chill seldom experienced. Marukien spun quickly, panic filling his gut, only to be met with cruel emptiness where surely the vampire had stood. ?Though there is one thing that comes to mind.? The voice was behind him once again, chilling the drow?s spine even as it twisted vainly, attempting to locate Granecourt.

?Stupidity. Not more than four hundred years and your have managed to forget the precious wisdom your ancestors once revered.? Granecourt moved as the elf tried once again to lay eyes upon his pale flesh. Ciel was slowly closing the gap between them; he could smell the stench of the dead upon her flesh and knew better than to free her from his gaze. ?The irony of your fate is almost disturbing. My wish was not to kill you, rather I wished to see how far your race has come.?

With a dreadful sneer the vampire stepped towards the still bewildered Mazukien, again Ciel stood by and did nothing to save the elf, somehow she felt compelled to leave the vampire alone, let him continue as he wished. Granecourt grabbed the man roughly by the shoulders, lifting him easily into the air.

Mazukien?s eyes widened as the world spun around him. The vampire?s angular face filled his vision where seconds before there had been little more than the drab greys of the cavern. As the fluids caught up to his body the drow?s pain registered, suddenly aware that his legs had remained at their previous face, his lower spine shattered with the obscenely fast spin.

Granecourt dropped the shocked man and bowed his head gracefully before turning to Ciel. ?Good day or night madam, whichever it maybe.? Granecourt?s voice still held its chill as he crossed from his greeting and retrieved a finely crafted violin from the piles of earth where Uthegiliel still lay. Seeing Ciel?s hesitation, the vampire?s gaze was weakening as he abandoned his efforts, Vincent turned once again to the necromancer. ?Don?t worry. I?ve fed well and think little of those who kill for sport. Your death would serve me no purpose??


[b] OOC:[/b] I just want to be happy and nice. But no, elves don?t like to be happy.[/size][/COLOR]

[Dagger]

Alright, babe, here's the deal. You can kill whomever your heart desires, but you've just entered my territory, and now you'll have to play by different rules. Bear in mind that there is a rather powerful vampire currently relaxing inside my character's mansion. Also, you're clanless, so it's going to be somewhat difficult to form alliances.

If you cause Ciel to appear weak, I will not hesitate to deliver a [i]gigantic[/i] smackdown. If, on the other hand, you refrain from de-limbing her friends, she'll probably invite you in for a quick drink and perhaps a semi-friendly spar. Which option sounds more advantageous? I'll leave that for you to decide.

[center]---------------------------------------------------------------[/center]

Though Ciel's eyes had grown cold, her voice still held a certain playful lilt. "How disappointing. You can't even distinguish between day and night?" She continued before Granecourt could respond, watching his scarlet-spattered hands with an expression that spoke only of simple avarice. "In any event, I'm busy. Please try not to interrupt."

After a moment the woman stooped, letting her fingers trail across the bloodstained soil. [i]Uthegiliel,[/i] she called softly, aware that Renier would soon come out to see what had transpired. [i]Shall I kill him?[/i]

[i]Do as you wish,[/i] came his labored response. [i]The vampire was supposed to be a gift.[/i]

Ciel smiled. [i]How very considerate.[/i]

The Drow's severed arm had begun to creep towards his gushing shoulder. Nudged on by her power, it clawed its way across the rocky ground, nails digging deep into the dirt. Meanwhile, Mazukien staggered slowly to his feet. He could feel his bones snapping swiftly into place, fresh blood coursing through his aching veins--

--"Don't move," Ciel said coolly, reaching out to grab Granecourt by the chin. Still smiling sweetly, she twisted his head round till he was forced to meet her steady glare. "Didn't I say that I was busy?"

Uthegiliel's stray limb had now reached his body, clamping greedily onto his open flesh as cartilage and sinew re-connected. He rose, unwilling to let Arciela's magic extend further--she made a loyal ally, but would not enjoy relinquishing control. Even the best of necromancers sometimes confused their friends for Dolls, empty corpses to be played with as they pleased.

?Never underestimate a sorceror,? Ciel told Vincent. Her nails sank into the vampire?s skin, leaving tiny spots of blood to bead along his pallid jaw. ?Never underestimate the strength of marionettes. I have my Dolls; Ominihe has his golems. Uthegiliel, I leave this in your hands.?

[Ben]

"Oh, but my hands are so very weak..." said Uthegiliel quietly. "What could I [I]possibly[/I] do to defeat such a fearsome creature of the night?"

Uthegiliel was slowly pacing around Granecourt, using his lance as a walking staff. His arm was not yet completely healed, and his neck was still at a crooked angle. His body was slowly recovering. But his emotions were still in an uproar. He was angry. He hadn't lived for nearly 5,000 years just to be killed by an arrogant vampire. He had been afraid before, truly, very afraid. But now anger surpassed the fear, consumed it, destroyed it. He was no longer afraid.

Painfully looking down at his frail and injured body, Uthegiliel determined that he would never get a chance like this ever again. It was time for the grandest of all his experiments. It was time to test the worth of thousands of years of study and experience. It was time for renewal.

It was time to be [I]reborn.[/I]

Uthegiliel straightened his body painfully, ancient bones creaking and eyes furrowed in pain. He gritted his teeth and drew a strange set of symbols into the ground with the butt of his lance. He stepped within the signs and began to chant. An bright light began to emanate from the markings.

Granecourt sneered at the old Drow he had so nearly killed. Best prevent him from summoning another one of his pathetic golems; rather than waste the effort of dispelling them. He began to walk purposefully towards Uthegiliel, fangs bared and hands still bloodied. There would be much satisfaction in killing the sorcerer. Especially since he had just tried to sell him into eternal undead slavery.

Vincent Granecourt was stopped, however, by a crowd of Dolls. The animated corpses surrounded the vampire, closing him in and trying to prevent his movement. He attempted to beat them away with his superior vampiric strength, but found that he was no longer in possession of it. The necromancer smiled at him sweetly.

"Accursed sorceress!" he shouted. "Damn you and all of your rotting playthings!"

Granecourt tried shoving through the crowd, but there were too many of the Dolls to try and surpass. He kept trying, however. He ducked under arms, kicked the legs out from under some of them, and merely beat others savagely. He eventually reached the outer rim of the mob and broke free.

Several golem-wolves snapped at him and bared their fangs. They were pacing around Uthegiliel, who had disappeared into a column of sand, rock, and light. The column had gotten wider, becoming a full fifteen feet in diameter. Granecourt pushed past the wolves, ignoring their terrible teeth and heavy caws embedding themselves within his flesh. Granecourt reached the column and kicked away the wolves, his flesh resealing itself. He smashed his fist into the side of the column, and screamed.

"AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH! HOLY LIGHT!" his face contorted in pain. "Blessed Magic of the Sakmeht!"

[B][I]"That's right."[/I][/B] came a deep growl from within the column. [B][I]"I learned that two-thousand years ago, before the fall of the Dra'Coryul."[/I][/B]

Granecourt stepped back as he began to feel an immense amount of power emanate from within the barrier, cradling the irreparable stump of his right hand. The dust was clearing, and the light was dimming. There was a shockwave of a great magnitude that caused all around to fall to lose their balance and fall. All except Vincent Granecourt, who by sheer strength of will stood standing.

What stood before him was not a golem, although it looked very much like one. It was Uthegiliel, and his body was no longer his body. It was made of earth, stone, metal, and sand. Wooden tree limbs jutted out like spines from his back and his eyes burned with cold fire.

"I am Uthegiliel Ominihe of the fallen Dra'Coryul, Master of Golems and Sorcerer of Stone! I will no longer be frightened by a mere vampire!" His stone jaw scraped as he spoke, producing a gravelly overtone.

"Well then, mighty Drow sorcerer, give me your best sho-"

Before he could finish his brash response, Granecourt had been gathered up in one huge hand and was quickly crushed into a mangled mass of flesh and bones. Uthegiliel hurled him into the ground, creating a shallow impact crater. Granecourt quickly pulled himself together.

[B][I]"Give him his power back."[/I][/B] Uthegiliel requested of Arciela.

She nodded and unfolded her hands. Like a flock of ballistic ravens, dark shadows flew from her palms into Vincent's chest, causing his eyes to burn and renewing his vigor. He snarled at the thing Uthegiliel had become and leapt at his face. He ravaged the stone countenance with his bare fist, causing slab after slab of stone to fall.

Uthegiliel reached up and plucked Granecourt from his shoulders. Then he tore the vampire in half, pulling his upper torso with one hand, and his legs with the other. Then he placed the two parts together on the ground, where they began to pull together. Uthegiliel lifted up his massive foot and crushed Granecourt beneath it. He then lifted his foot, and the golem wolves rushed in to ravage the body.

"Uthegiliel!" called Mazukien. The young Drow had finished healing quite a while ago, and was eager to enact his revenge.

[B][I]"Very well."[/I][/B] rumbled Uthegiliel. [B][I]"He is yours for the finishing."[/I][/B]

Uthegiliel scooped up Vincent Granecourt and fixed him with one last look of pure hatred, and then he tossed him over the wall of the courtyard. Mazukien ran out of the gate.

Uthegiliel closed his eyes. He was exhausted. The spell was a very complex one, and very dangerous. No one but him had even tried anything like it before. Instead of merely giving his sight to a golem, he had infused his spirit, his mana, his very lifeforce, into a body of stone. But now the spell was wearing off. He was beginning to diminish in size. Stones crumbled from about his shoulders, and sand sifted through the rocks onto the ground.

And yet, when all the materials were done leaving him, Uthegiliel still stood, lance in hand. He leaned on the lance, which could barely support his weight. Uthegiliel was now covered in stone.