Sign Up War of the Blood: Gathering Storm [M-LVS]

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Blood. The essence of life. Without it, the living beings cannot survive. And with it, the dead can be born again. At least, that's what the lore of mankind claims. They even have a name for those that require the blood or flesh of the living to sustain their undeath; they come in many tongues and many flavours, but the best known of all are the Vampires.

The oft-romantic, and more often horrible lore of the Vampire have permeated human culture for centuries, finally sensationalized with the tale of Count Dracula, recanted by one Bram Stoker. It has since exploded onto the popular culture scene, from the cheesey horror "classics" to overtly sexual romance novels, capturing what has been cited as the "true meaning" of Vampire lore. Psychologists probe the metaphors locked within legend, and folklorists investigate so-called real events of Vampirism.

But, usually, Vampires are written off as mythical and fictional, simply the imaginings of the dark, dreamy, or deranged.

Wrong.

Since the dawn of man, the blood-sucking undead have walked beside humanity, lurking in the shadows and doing their own secret dealings. They feed when they need to, but mostly keep to themselves, hiding from the persecution and fear of mankind. Milliennia of altercations with the living have proven just how dangerous they can be. Besides, the Vampires have had their own conflicts to deal with.

In the beginning, there was one group of Vampires. The ancient Gwyar Clan, led by the original Vampire, a powerful and wise being who sired many before his life was ended by his offspring. For centuries, the Vampires were congregated in the dark mountains of Eastern Europe, having fled the Holy Lands and the crucible of civilization for the colder, darker, and more secluded areas were they could live their own lives. But it didn't last long.

Conflict broke out between the Gwyar aristocracy and their warrior underlings, the Gyshram. So the Gyshram, accomplished fighters and assassins, fled to the south and returned to their origin in the Middle East. They later splintered, forming the self-righteous Myrkur Aniol, who took the names of the Angels and Devils of Western religion. Meanwhile, the Gwyar had lost their mighty sorcerers to the Nyroma, and their devout scholars to the Ijuuj. The Ijuuj went West, to the new hubs of humanity, and the Nyroma fled to the West.

Before long, Vampires fled with humanity to the New World. Those that left for Oceana and Australia eventually became the Zugai, brave and mighty warriors, while those that headed to the Southern Americas were to become the Labareda. Some of the Labareda splintered to the North, becoming a militarian Clan calling themselves the Mirichai.

Scattered across the globe, in the places the other clans had yet to claim, lived another Clan, though they were barely worthy of the title. The Knubrap were the dregs of Vampire society, living scattered and free, like vagrants and thieves. They were those that were banished from their Clans, eventually becoming dirty in blood and spreading across the uncolonized lands. For centuries more, this was the way of the Vampires.

Until, almost 500 years before the modern day, a soon-to-be legendary Vampire arose in the relatively isolated Far East. His true name was given up in his own self-hatred, and he instead called himself Kuroichi, Dark Blood. For many years, he saw himself as evil and tainted, until he finally realized the power and the wisdom that came with eternity and his kin. He was the offspring of a powerful Myrkur Aniol, but did not heed to the whims of his father-Clan. He was his own.

As he traveled across the globe, watching the ways of humanity, he became disgusted with how they fought against eachother constantly. Empires crumbled, nations waged war, blood was shed in gallons and gallons. As he stayed in Europe during the World Wars, his bitterness grew until he returned to his homeland of Japan. There, he began his own Clan. The Krilat Zmaj.

The Krilat Zmaj grew slowly, spreading from Japan to the surrounding world, until all of South-Eastern Asia was his, from Mongolia, to India, to Indonesia. He was king of a continent, living on his island palace as a solitary God. And he began to brew a plan.

He had united the Vampires of Asia into one, unified front, had he not? If so, he could unify all of Vampiredom, to prevent the eternal wars that wracked human-kind. If he could, there would at last be peace for his race, and he would lead them as a benevolent king. But there would be resistance, he knew, so he set to work. He built alliances with all he could, and gathered the strongest warriors he could find. Even when Japan lashed out against all of the creatures of the night with the ominous Project, he gathered the warriors designed to slay him, and made them his own.

A war was brewing. A war that would forever reshape all of Vampire kind, and perhaps all of humanity. If he succeeded, he would forever go down in history as the greatest man of all time. And he was never one to accept failure.

Kuroichi. The Silver-Haired Demon.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]I know a few of you out there are, possibly, grinning to yourselves, or, conversely, annoyed with me. The rest of you are probably asking yourself, why? What's the big deal. Well, a few months back, as some might recall, War of the Blood was something of an epic, at least by my standards, a big RP that spawned two "sequals" and had more plot twists in it than a mystery novel, not to mention a few big battles here and there.

Well, WotB is starting up anew. The past history of Hold Tight, Drink Deep, Skulls and Crosses, and Of Blades and Hunters are all gone. Clean slate for all the characters within. And, as you shall soon see, some of the rules have changed a little.

In the original WotB, there were seven gems of ultimate power, held by the high-and-mighty Ijuuj clan. However, this time, the gems are spread amongst the oldest seven clans, with only the Mirichai, Knubrap, and Krilat Zmaj without one. As ever, Kuroichi is out to gather them and a lot of other powerful relics, including the mysterious Night Blades, and any warriors he can coerce, convince, or seduce onto his side.

There are, currently, three factions in the War; With Kuroichi, Against Kuroichi (With Gwyar), and Neutral. The groupings are as follows
With: Krilat Zmaj, Gyshram, and the Zugai
Against: Gwyar, Myrkur Aniol, Ijuuj, and Labareda
Neutral: Knubrap, Mirichai, and Nyroma

Now, for a break-down of the Clans:

[B]Krilat Zmaj[/B] - The clan started by Kuroichi himself. Perhaps the newest clan in existence, only about 100 years old. Kuroichi started it after his disgust with the first World War, and when he originally hatched his plan for a unified Vampire Nation. The Krilat Zmaj have no major characteristics, comprised of Vampires from various clans melded together. However, the "pure" Krilat Zmaj, those descended from Kuroichi himself, all have his silver hair and blood-red eyes, marking them as his true followers.
Kuroichi - ULX
Kashi - Deucalion

[B]Gwyar[/B] - The oldest and most respected Clan. It is small in number, but holds some of the most powerful Vampires known to man, including Vlad Tepes Dracula, Lady Elizabeth Bathory, and numerous others known through-out modern and ancient lore. The eldest all have vaguely animalistic traits, due to giving into their ancient, demonic natures. The older a Vampire gets, the more powerful and unholy they become. The main castle of the Gwyar Lords is in Russia, and they hold the powerful Dark Moonstone.
Sumiyaka - Imi
Lord Orlok - Mugen
Helios - Justice

[B]Gyshram[/B] - Originally bred to be warriors and assassins, the Gyshram have carried on this legacy, most opperating as killers and criminals for hire in the human and vampire underworld. They are well known for their stealth, speed, and ruthless efficiency in the field of battle. They make their home in Southern Africa, and are scattered around Africa and the Middle East, primarily. The Gyshram Lord has the Skull Sapphire.
Keitha - demonchild781
Leila - Reiku

[B]Nyroma[/B] - Once the mystics and sorcerors of the Gwyar, the Nyroma have become their own clan, relying on magic and sorcery to do battle instead of swords and might. They use many of the more mystical tricks Vampires are recorded as using, including shape-shifting and hypnosis, alongside more powerful black magic. They are centralized in Romania and Eastern Europe, and their Queen has the Night Amethyst.
Lucian - Nyroma
Vylon - Kairi

[B]Ijuuj[/B] - Also known as the 'Crosses,' the Ijuuj are almost like a Religious Cult instead of a Clan, borderline masochistic and semi-suicidal with a love for the holy artifacts that seem to cause most Vampires pain. Instead, they have grown immune to the effects of crosses and holy water, using them as weapons against their Vampire brethren. They live in Western Europe, with the main Church in Italy, and have the Blood Ruby.

[B]Zugai[/B] - Arch-rivals of the devout and refined Ijuuj, the Zugai are an anarchistic warrior race of Vampires who make their home in the New World, scattered across the islands of Oceana with their King making his home in the Australian Outback. The Zugai admire the harshness of nature, and are known for being abnormally strong and durable, even for Vampires. The King himself has the Death Diamond on his side.
King Jarrah - Revelation

[B]Myrkur Aniol[/B] - Perhaps the most mysterious of all the Clans is the Myrkur Aniol, or the Dark Angels. Upon entering the Clan, they take the name of an angel or demon, going so far as to adopt the personality and traits of said being. They have various powers, mostly focused on the natural forces, from fire to thunder. The leaders of the Myrkur Aniol are the Council, a group of Vampires taking the name of the Seven Archangels and the Seven Demons of Sin. They live in the Crucible of Civilization, the Middle East, and have the Pearl Fang in their possession.
Seraphim - Wraith
Ramiel - Starwind

[B]Labareda[/B] - In South America live the hot-blooded Labareda, a clan known for being rich, influential, and ruthless. They often employ Gyshram assassins and Zugai bodyguards as workers for their cause, using their monetary worth to its greatest advantage. They are centralized in Brazil, and have the Corpse Emerald in their possession.

[B]Mirichai[/B] - A militaristic group that prides itself on having the most advanced weaponry of all the Clans, the Mirichai are currently in the midst of a great conflict with the Labareda for ownership of Mexico and the northern part of Central America, as well as Cuba, Haiti, and several other islands. The Mirichai are focused on the southern United States, and have no gem, being too new and vicious.

[B]Knubrap[/B] - The final clan, and both the oldest and one of the newest. The Knubrap have been around since before the Gwyar, but have not been named or organized until quite recently under the helm of a mysterious leader. This leader makes their home in New York City, and seems to have dark plans brewing for all of Vampire-kind.
Yvonne Scott - natchan

[B]Name:[/B] It should fit your region of origin. Remember that the Myrkur Aniol must have the name of an Angel.
[B]Nickname:[/B] If you have one.
[B]Age:[/B] From 20-2000.
[B]Gender:[/B] Male or Female.
[B]Species:[/B] While most will be Vampires, this is in case there's a human or two.
[B]Clan:[/B] Not necessary for human players.
[B]Appearance:[/B] Either a picture or a fairly detailed description.
[B]Weapons:[/B] Keep it basic unless you are a Mirichai or Labareda.
[B]Powers:[/B] Telekinesis, magic, Chi techniques, shadow control...keep it under control, let's say five powers/techniques each, and don't have too much power. Remember, Knubrap don't have much in the way of power, Zugai are reletively weak when it comes to energy and magic, and the Nyroma are incredible sorcerors.
[B]Personality:[/B]
[B]Bio:[/B] Because many of the characters might well have long histories, it might be best to have your history laid out for you and others to read. Doesn't have to be too terribly long, but there should be some info there.
[B]Writing Sample:[/B] A few (say, 5) paragraphs of in-character writing, just to see how good you are.
[B]Other:[/B] Anything else?

[B]Name:[/B] Takeda Kana, originally; Goes solely by Kuroichi now
[B]Nickname:[/B] The Silver-Haired Demon
[B]Age:[/B] 482
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Species:[/B] Vampire
[B]Clan:[/B] Krilat Zmaj
[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://www.deviantart.com/view/25193980/]Here[/URL] is an excellent pic of dear Kuro-sama.

[B]Weapons:[/B] His primary weapon is a katana with crimson bindings, a black-thorn pommel, and a golden tsuba with dragons ingraved on it. The blade itself is finely honed and no different than any other katana, save being slightly longer than most. The laquered saya is black with ecclectic red streaks here and there. He calls the weapon Shinku no Umi; Crimson Sea.

[B]Powers:[/B] Kuroichi has the unique power to manipulate blood, be it his or another?s. He can change it into a very strong material, with which he crafts weapons, armor, and other structures. His favorite use for it is the Blood Mist, a cloud of incredibly small blood daggers that slowly cut anyone inside the mist to ribbons.

His other main power is an innate one, awoken by the change into a Vampire; powerful telekinesis, which he calls simply the Power. It manifests itself as bolts of crimson energy that he uses primarily for the offensive, batting enemies aside and hurling objects at them. However, he can also use it to create a shield around him. However, the Power is very draining, far more so than Blood Manipulation, so he tends to avoid using it unless he's in a pinch.

Additionally, he learned a few tricks during his training with the Nyroma, namely low-level hypnosis and a few weak illusions.

[B]Personality:[/B] Kuroichi is suave, cool, and in control no matter what the situation. He is incredibly wise, as well, a quick thinker and a devious planner. He can be very manipulative at times, leading people into thinking exactly what he wants. When not conversing with pretty women or his equals, he can be very smug and cocky. He treats those he sees as inferior as inferiors, making his opinions of them known quite well. It takes a lot to earn his respect.

When in a fight, however, Kuroichi is condescending to his foes, trading witty banter and leading his opponent into stupid mistakes. He is sadistic, cold, calculating, and merciless, and never leaves an enemy standing.

Despite all this, however, Kuroichi is neither blood-thirsty, nor is he "evil." He has a warped morality, true, but it is merely that of one who knows only the battle-field. He can be an infinitely loyal friend, a passionate and caring lover, and will never back down in the face of adversity to do what he believes to be right. He truly does seek peace, wishing to annihilate the potential for war before something worse begins.

[B]Bio:[/B] Kuroichi, born Takeda Kana, entered the world during a time of war, in the Sengoku Period of Japan, shortly before Portuguese sailors reached Japan. He was trained in swordsmanship and the martial arts by his father, a high-ranking Samurai in Takeda Shingen's army. However, his father was killed in one of the Battles of Kawanakajima, the Battle of 1564. Kana was only 26 at the time; it was the first time he was embittered by the pains of war.

Kana left his home in the Kai province, seeking fortune elsewhere. He went to Kawanakajima to pay respects to his father, but while he was there, he was attacked by a filthy, deranged solider. Kana nearly defeated the man, but he lashed out with unnatural strength, and bit Kana's neck, seemingly killing him. Days later, Kana awoke late at night, and found himself a Vampire.

Kana was at first disgusted by his fate, casting off his name in favor of Kuroichi, meaning Black Blood. The name carried, but the disgust rapidly faded. He began to embrace his nature, learning to control his powers. His latent Power, a red energy force that could manipulate matter with no visible cause, was awoken during a fierce battle, the Siege of Osaka. He became a fierce force during the wars, joining battles as he came across them and fighting for no particular side, simply seeking out the strongest warriors he could find. It was at this time that the legend of the Silver Haired Demon was born.

During his many years, Kuroichi had seen numerous clans, nations, and empires fall to ruin. At the beginning of the Meiji Era, he scorned the modernization and the destruction of the Samurai Class, because it would mean less battles to fight in, less warriors to face, and none of the bloodshed that seemed to temporarily calm his troubled mind. He aided a few battles against the new Empire, but finally left his homeland when the nation settled down once more in a search for foreign warriors.

It was during a stay in Croatia that Kuroichi truly became aware of his powers as a Vampire. He spent at least a decade in the charge of a wise Nyroma sorceror, learning the ways of the mystical forces and honing his innate psychic abilities, as well as the mysterious Blood Manipulation. However, it was when his Master taught him about the history of the Clans that Kuroichi became irked at yet another group of Empires that routinely tore themselves apart. As he left his Master's care, he began to develope a new calling.

Before the turn of the Century, he went to the new world, and saw the horrible American Civil War at its peak. He went into battle once again, cutting a blood swathe from the North to the South, until the war slowly settled again. Still, there was unrest, and he found himself attacted by unruly Southerners, eventually fleeing back to Europe. There, he stayed for several years until the first World War broke out. It was then that he steeled his resolve, and returned to Japan.

The Krilat Zmaj was born.

He gathered all the Vampires in the country, and looked for powerful soldiers and warriors to gather into the fold. Once Japan was fully under his control, and he had mighty and reliable aids to run the nation, he went abroad, slowly conquering the rest of Asia for the Krilat Zmaj. It took him almost 40 years, but by the end of the second World War, all of Asia was his. And with the Krilat Zmaj at his command, he began his new crusade.

The destruction of the Clans.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] (A Snippet from WotB 2: Skulls and Crosses)
Kuroichi stepped into the bright foyer of Il Signore's opulant palace, discarding his cloak as he stepped into the safe room. Though sunlight poured in through high windows, stained with religious images, the light was carefully filtered, making it safe for their kind.

[I][B]"Ehi!"[/B][/I] cried the receptionist behind the large mahogany desk. [I][B]"Che fare tu pensare sei fare?"[/B][/I]

[B]"I was merely discarding my cloak, madame,"[/B] said Kuroichi, flashing the young woman a smile deigned to make her ankles melt.

He strode by her, knowing she wouldn't do anything to stop him. And he was equally ready to dispatch her, had she tried anything stupid. Though masked by an illusion he had learned from his Nyroma teacher, his katana was still ready at his side.

As he passed through the hallways, a guard, clad in a security uniform, barred his way.

[B][I]"Sosta!"[/I][/B] the guard barked.

[B]"No,"[/B] Kuroichi replied, grinning.

Dark ochre splashed across the wall as Kuroichi cleaved the man's shoulders from his waist. With almost dainty elegance, the silver-haired Vampire stepped over the bloody corpse, moving up with plush-carpeted staircase.

[I]Il Signore needs better security, me thinks,[/I] thought the grinning Vampire.

[B]Other:[/B] N/A

I hope that War of the Blood shall be as successful, if not more so, as before. I truly enjoyed it last time around, and hope that many shall join in the conflict. And I invite you all to Hold Tight, and Drink Deep.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Ezekiel]

[SIZE=1][B]I've decided to change Sumiyaka a wee bit, to make her stronger as a character. I apologise for sucking in the last three RPs, seeing as I posted a grand total of something like 6 times. Wow. *rolls eyes*[/B]

[B]Name:[/B] Elizabeth Archer
[B]Nickname[/B]: Sumiyaka (Only those in her clan know her real name)
[B]Age:[/B] 1500
[B]Gender:[/B] Female
[B]Species:[/B] Vampire
[B]Clan:[/B] Gwyar
[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://www.deviantart.com/view/25349953/][I]Here's one[/I][/URL], [URL=http://www.deviantart.com/view/25269854/][I]and the other[/I][/URL]. The first is what she wears when on travels. The dress is for when she's socialising and with other clan members. (I'll probably do more detailed sketches eventually...I'll attach them to a post in the RP or something)

[B]Weapons: [/B] A simple [URL=http://kendo.union.rpi.edu/images/shinai.jpg]shinai[/URL]. (Where the wood is brown on the picture, Beth's is black.) Beth has this strapped across her back, but doesn't always carry it with her as it isn't her primary weapon. She also has a tendency to carry some smoke bombs in her pocket, just in case she can't fire off a blast of energy fast enough.

[B]Powers:[/B] Beth's forte is Chi manipulation. She is a relatively good sorceress and has dabbled in shadow control, but is still trying to master it and won't use it in battle for fear of it failing.
Her main techniques are a [B]barrier[/B], which can block almost any attack, physical or magical, and a sort of [B]power surge[/B], where Sumiyaka builds her Chi up to maximum level before releasing it all in one powerful blast. This drains her greatly, but the more she practices, the better she's able to control it. She can also form Chi in her hands to fire off [B]balls of energy[/B]. (More about her power in her bio.)

Her ace, if you could call it that, is her ability to tap into the element of wind. While she doesn't use it as a power, she can carry messages with it and it in turn informs her of something happening in the world at any time. It's rumoured that Beth can use the wind to transport her from place to place, but so far she's denied it from any who ask.

[B]Personality:[/B] Beth is a very passive vampire, despite the fact she is a very capable warrior. She claims, to those who do not know her, that her hate of war and bloodshed comes from being alive for so long. 1700 years of immortality will tend to get boring after a little while. Beth has seen too many deaths, too many wars and too much blood to have any like of it whatsoever. She?s one of the rare breed of vampires who is very fond of humans, and it's because of this that she won't drink their blood. She drinks animal blood, or human blood that has been kept in stores. Her clan originally found this shameful, but Beth tries to keep it a secret so as not to embarrass her superiors.

As a person, Beth is very easy going, very kind and very knowledgeable. She has amazing knowledge, seeing as she's spent most of her years reading ancient texts, and is more interested in learning rather than fighting. If pushed, Beth can turn nasty, but will try to talk her adversary out of a fight for as long as she possibly can. Beth?s only flaw is that she holds a grudge very, very well, and has an excellent memory to boot.

[B]Bio:[/B] A young child, surrounded by wind-fuelled flames, wailed into the night as she gathered her bloody, dirty knees to her face. She buried her face in the gap between her legs and sobbed, her sooty face smeared with tears, blood and dirt. her whole village was alight, a group of men on horseback having travelled through, raping, destroying and killing. This was England. This was 505 AD. This was the Dark Ages.

England was torn apart after the Roman's had left, and group of barbaric men travelled through villages, intent on becoming rich and getting their pleasure. Beth had been the only survivor from the pitiful amount of people in her tiny village. She had been tiny enough to crawl into a grain jar when the men had come through only crawling out hours after they had left. Now she sat where her home used to be, the blackened bodies of her family strewn across the floor.

She was only a child and as the night drew on she was rapidly losing her health. It was only by chance that a man, if you could call him that, had seen the rising pillars of smoke. His horse trotted over the smoking debris until he saw the body. He had compassion in him and had been heartbroken at finding the ruin England was in. After all, he'd travelled all the way from Russia to get here.

The young girl coughed weakly as smoke filled her lungs and only barely managed to open her eyes as strong eyes scooped her up. "My dear child..." she heard the mutter, a strange accent thick on the words. Strange, yet elegant.

The truth of the matter was this was the vampire Le Stat. He saved the girl from certain death by drinking her blood and she in turn drank his to bring some sort of life back into her pale limbs. This was the forging of a close relationship, and over the next 16 years, that young girl grew to be strong and intelligent. he never claimed her as his daughter, but they shared blood, and it was just as good.

Beth did not have long to settle into the ways of a vampire. When Le Stat brought her back the elders insisted that she was trained to be strong, especially since she shared a bond with on e of the most well-known and respected vampires f the age. Unfortunately, something went wrong. Beth?s body couldn't handle the changes and what occurred was a short circuit in her brain. She tapped into her Chi but couldn't control it, and it almost destroyed her.

She was found one day in the training hall, her skin ripped by cuts and scrapes, purely from the energy her body hadn't been able to contain. It was because of this she gained the tattoos on her arms. They are, in actual fact, seals on her power. Le Stat insisted they be implemented, with a little twist thrown in.

The seals are released when soaked in the blood of a vampire.

This is some sort of last-chance device. The theory is, if Beth is backed into a corner, she will untie the ribbons that cover her arms and let herself be drenched in the blood of her enemy. The power that will be released is unimaginable and the unfortunate soul on Beth's wrong side would be, quite literally, ripped to shreds. The only hitch is that Beth would be, too.

She keeps some seals visible so that if they are covered in blood, she will merely gain a power boost, not nearly enough to destroy an enemy in one go.

The Gwyar have kept their little anomaly under tight security and whenever Beth wishes to travel she in accompanied by an escort under the alias of Lady Sumiyaka of the Gwyar. She has known about Kuroichi ever since the start of his campaign and has become a little fascinated by this 'young man'. She is currently planning the best way to approach her elders so that she may go on a search for Kuroichi as a representative of her clan.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] (From Skulls and Crosses)

Sumiyaka closed her eyes and leant her head back against the soft goose down pillow. She sighed as she felt the winds whip around the ship, smiling at the raw power they held but did not unleash upon those with a pure enough soul. The vampiress silently wished that Kuroichi's ship were being battered by the storm; maybe he had even been thrown over board. She shook her head, knowing that he was far to powerful to be beaten down by the elements, she laughed at how pathetic that sounded, a mere monster was more powerful than the earth and sky itself. Pathetic.

Of course, it was that thought that brought Sumiyaka crashing back down to harsh reality. She was travelling from Britain to Australia in the hopes of finding Kuroichi and at least weakening him enough so that her old clan and its allies could finish him. She always regretting leaving without even saying goodbye to Kyu, he was a wonderful friend, someone she missed everyday.

But that was not the thing to dwell on, no, there was training to be done and Sumiyaka knew well that Kuroichi would kill her easily if she didn't keep up her regimental hours training in the harsh sea weather. She stepped outside and smiled as the wind seemed to slow and caress her skin, the rain battering everywhere around her, never once hitting her with it's almighty force.

[COLOR=SeaGreen]Sumiyaka.....Breeze of the Vampires...[/COLOR]

The voice was like a sigh, a happy albeit lazy voice that called out to the woman on deck, calling her to the front of the ship. Her smiled broadened as she extended her arms, feeling the wind encircle them and her body in turn, her power growing with it. Her training had been successful, she may not have power over all of the elements like Kuroichi had, but the wind was her ally and it would grant her power when the time came.

A small blue orb appeared in her slender hands, absorbing the air and rain around. The woman smiled softly and released it, watching as it spiralled into the air only to explode in a flash of light. Her symbol, a simple 'S' and a crucifix, anyone who saw it would know she was there.

[B]"Let that be a sign of your fate, Kuroichi..."[/B]

[B]Other:[/B] Beth is a great lover of children, this is more than likely due to her past.

[B]By the way, you'll have to teach me how to pronounce the vast majority of clan names next time we're on the phone, 'cuz I'm pretty sure I've mangled them.

Edit: omfg, so much writing. *dead*

I'm very sorry about all this lot, but her bio is really, really important as it explains her seals and stuff. Gah. I'll probably add it into the RP in a more condensed way, because I really don't expect [STRIKE]anyone[/STRIKE] everyone to be bothered to read all that.[/B][/SIZE]

[Revelation]

[size=1][color=#696969][B]The King has risen once more with a few modifications since he was last seen in War of the Blood 3: Of Blades and Hunters. So feast your eyes on this magnificent creature and prepare to know the savagery of The King[/B]

[B]Name-[/B] King Jarrah
[B]Nickname-[/B] Abbadon the Destroyer
[B]Age-[/B] 379 but doesn?t look a day over 30.
[B]Gender-[/B] Male
[B]Species/Clan-[/B] Zugai Vampire

[B]Appearance-[/B] [URL=http://img95.imageshack.us/img95/7990/astaroth1vh.jpg]Here[/URL] you can see King Jarrah in an appropriate battle position in battle armor or at least lack thereof.

[B]Weapons-[/B] The weapon that is wielded by Jarrah is a powerful weapon with the face of a skull dragon holding the metal of the axe. It is a bearded axe with a wooden handle wrapped in black sash and a rusting axe but gigantic in its size with a powerful blow. For most, Jarrah?s axe would only be a problem in battle but he takes it as if it were a gentle sword and swings it with the most precision one could ever notice. Nex Luna- Death Moon is its name and she only submits to Jarrah and Jarrah alone.

[B]Powers-[/B] Unlike most of the other clans, the Zugai are well reputed for their fighting skills and brutal murders. They have no use for magic or the likes of it and would rather rely on their combat skills than sorcery yet for Jarrah, though he may be a mammoth of a vampire, making him quite deadly underneath the elders and Kuroichi, it is a bit different for he is able to surge electricity throughout his body for few moments and release at his own will, something of an electric powerhouse you could say. Though Jarrah may possess this small force of magic, he would rather much rely on the skills he has trained with like the rest of his clan for he, among the many Zugai, dislike the use of magic but know that it comes in handy. Albeit, it is their combative ways that make them who they are and what magic they possess.

[B]Personality-[/B] Jarrah is ruthless and not a thing could stand in his way for he possesses great strength and is the deadliest and most powerful, living in the center of nature in an aboriginal land. His ways are aggressive and militant, though he gives leeway to his clan, he can also be cool-headed and level, reasonable and understanding- perhaps the most reasonable and understanding of most vampires. Jarrah has the capability to be lighthearted, deceptive with good intentions, and can give respect though he tends not to for respect shouldn?t be given away lightly unless one has shown it through a strenuous case.

A burly man who is calm and tranquil like the sea, Jarrah loves to relax and enjoy being around anyone who would care for a bit of fun. He is quite playful at hand and brings much laughter into the air, always with a smile on his face. Though, when the time should arise, Jarrah knows his place and what must be done and in doing so, he has no time for games and will become the leader he is. He is well known for his ways in altercations and having a cold heart and jaded soul.

[B]Bio-[/B] Once known as Valon, Jarrah lived as royalty in England. His people were no stranger to the land and followed him around, knowing he was a good man. His people and he served the king for generations and generation, being strong and rich in their morals and beliefs. It was said that there was none like them and that there wouldn?t be for eternity, for they were descendants of great royalty and fearless fighters, experiencing the feel of war as he and his people have helped the British army in many of their battles.

Darkness overcame England and how little the residents of England knew when their beloved country began to turn on them as the streets became paved with broken homes and the nights became sullen. The people feared to walk out at night and others welcomed the light to shine their path against the shadows. Many crimes have followed after the darkness and all were pointed to Valon and his tribe of Aborigine warriors who were not beastly in any way or savage-like. Even after the accusations, England had turned for the worst as a true darkening night engulfed all of England, finding people on the streets, paving them with their own blood. A vampire was known only to do this work.

It was the devil?s work, turning good men into men of Satan, sending them out to take the lives of the good and feed their souls to the Evil One, strengthening his own power. Once again, Valon and his tribe were accused of such horrendous acts but Valon refused to let the king believe it and so, the king pardoned him and his tribe, albeit the criminal, the vampire, was nowhere to be found. Valon had found the death bringer and tried to fight him but was a bit of a sloth to outwit or even outrun this creature of the night. Soon enough, he, himself, was a victim as were several others of his tribe. They were exiled from England for the people feared them and what they might do.

In the present day, Valon is known as Jarrah, a man who threw away his past but kept his heritage alive, living among a clan of vampires who were known to be ruthless and cold, a clan known as the Zugai. His other name was Abbadon the Destroyer, a heartless man who had soon become the subject of bitter hatred for those who had seen his evil and the subject of fear for those who escaped from his narrow massacres. It is said that he who crosses the king shall surely fall. He who challenges the king shall die.

[B]Writing Sample-[/B] Taken from War of the Blood 3.
[B]?Why do we gots to go home when there?s plenty to do out here? Why can we be having fun, King Jarrah??[/B]

Silence overcame Jarrah. He knew that bloodshed would soon be near. It had erupted since the day they had returned and it has continued since, never ending as the Knubrap picked off each helpless human one by one. It was certain that Jarrah enjoyed a meal of fresh blood once in a while, but constantly sipping on the blood of humans was vastly overrated, whereas the blood of a vampire's was richer in taste as well as feast.

The other vampires of the Zugai clan looked to Jarrah as he merely walked on back to their home, an old, run-down mansion that took much space for his clan. It was dark and gloomy, a house that none would ever visit, unless they loved the fresh feel of fear, that trembling scent of death that just causes your arms to numb and your body to shiver with chills, but not many wish to know that, not many wish to see it, which is why it is a good choice of a home. It reminds them their entire olden homeland, a darkening land that would never return to innocence.

Jarrah stepped forward and swung the gates open, to see the homely black was almost welcoming. The darkness within was inviting and the death that fell upon it was warm as well. He couldn?t help but smirk beneath his mask, knowing that he was home. The others raced in, while many slugged their arms around, wanting to go out and enjoy themselves in a bit of fun. Jarrah understood this, but what ever Kuroichi said was what they must do unless otherwise.

Walking up the tall, spiraling stairs, Jarrah ended up in the master bedroom that was once beautiful and intricate in its way. Its laced curtains were once decorated with beautiful ribbons, now they were adorned with cobwebs and moth-eaten holes. It was home to him and his clan, no one else could take this sanctuary from them, they would not leave once again.

He sat in large sofa that had several blood stains upon it; Jarrah cared nothing for it and placed Jawbone aside onto the bed, along with the mace that he held. The garments that Jarrah wore began to bruise him as he had worn them for so long. He began to remove them slowly, watching it unlatch and release the stress that had been building. First the mouth guard that covered half of his face, then the gloves that wrapped around his hands, after that, he removed his shin guards that tightly wound around his legs, then finally his axe sheath. He allowed each body part to be able to breathe from the fierce accessories that he held on so greatly.

A knock arose and a young member entered. Her name was Akuma, one of the most devilish vampires of all of the Zugai clan to ever arrive. She bowed to him and gave to him a message from the outside. She was known to walk through the streets and never be seen, only by those who could feel the sense was known to be allies of hers. He nodded and she left, walking outside, knowing that the others were eager to know.

Jarrah sat in the room alone, letting the message replay, waiting for more information, knowing that this night was not the end of anything, nor was it the beginning yet. They were not near the beginning of something greater.

[B]Other-[/B] Anything else?

I apologize, I'm probably going to have to finish this tomorrow or some other time. Kill me later, ^_^;;;.[/size][/color]

[demonchild781]

[CENTER][COLOR=DarkSlateGray][SIZE=2][FONT=Arial Narrow]OOC: Good to see this back again. Hope it goes as well as the others :)

[B]Name:[/B]
Keitha (original name unknown)
[B]Nickname:[/B]
Shadow Assassin
[B]Age:[/B]
1000
[B]Gender:[/B]
Female
[B]Species:[/B]
Vampire
[B]Clan:[/B]
Gyshram
[B]Appearance:[/B]
[URL=http://www.animevisions.net/Pictures/elves/elves28.jpg]Minus the massive long ears[/URL]
[B]Weapons:[/B]
A simple katana named Chaela.
[B]Powers:[/B]
Able to manipulate shadows and untouched stealth.
[B]Personality:[/B]
This stunning vampiress is well-known for her unquenchable thirst and lust for destruction. Her quiet demeanor tempts the aggressive and experienced to take a chance at dancing with this marvelous hunter. Despite her meancing appearance and first impression, the one thing that stands out the most about Keitha is her undying devotion to whomever she is loyal to.
[B]Bio:[/B]
It was some where around the the late 8th century when Kietha was born to a poor merchant family. They lived on the coast of one of the many European countries, but they were always travelling. Kietha's father was a sweet campassionante man who loved his wife and only daughter with every thing he had.

At the age of twelve, Keitha began working with her father and helped her mother with house work when she wasn't with her father. On a spring afternoon just shortly after Keitha's fifteenth birthday, the village they were living in was raided by Vikings. They were ruthless and savage. Keitha's family tried to hide her and keep her safe, but it was no use. The vikings killed her father, raped her mother and took both Keitha and her mother aboard their ship.

Keitha bore two sons for one of the men aboard her ship. Her mother had about six children to a different man. Keitha was discussed with not only her body for allowing her to produce such savage beast but for her mother to allow this to go on. When Keitha turned twenty she knew that she would no longer take this. Inside of her was another child, but to a different man. She was tired of being raped and it needed to stop.

Late one evening while the men were docked some where in Normady, Keitha killed all the men that had raped her while they slept and vanished into the night. The next day she gave birth to a baby girl and left her at the nearest door.

As Keitha wondered aimlessly for serival days, she found herself upon a massive mansion so out of place. It was raining and she needed shelter for the night. She walked in and was greeted by a man. He took her in and fed her. After a week, the man came to her and asked her if she wanted to seek revenge on those that had hurt her and her family. Keitha agreed.

He taught her all he knew about being an assasin and taught her love how to love again. Keitha bore no child for him, but their love was powerful enough to create a new world. Both of them found and fought the Viking raids and won Europes freedom back, of course with others help.

After a short five years the man that had taken Keitha in decided it was time for her to know all his secrets. He loved her more then anything and it was unfair to her for her not to know. He set up a romantic dinner and dancing in the great hall. As they prepared to make love that night, the man took Keitha close to him and told her that he was a vampire. Expecting her to run from him or scream, the man turned from her. But she pulled him back, he still on top of her, still inside her and kissed him. She whipsered to him that she still loved him and then did something he had not expected. She asked to join him as his eternal lover. He granted her that wish and they spent 500 years together, joining Gyshram clan during this time.

During one of the many battles between the mighty clans, Keitha lost Serio, and pledged her loyal districtly to the Gyshram. The royal family taking her into their services as their personal assassin. And Keitha vowed to never take the rich crimson liquid from an unwilling host in fear that she would not be able to control her lust.

[B]Writing Sample[/B]
And with that, Kietha vanished into the ring of shadows allowing them to absorb her in a new trick they had learned. They carried her carefully, hidden within their darkness and shapelessness through Japan to where she needed to be, the pulse of the Opal shard quickened.

"Zoku..." Kietha whispered and knew his ears heard it.

The shadows stopped their swirling maddness and left Kietha standing up straight before a large wooden door. She could have used them to melt through the door, but decided it would be best to just open it. She turned the handle, it was locked. Playing with it for a moment she finally unlocked it and opened it to be welcomed with swords. She instintively pulled Chaela from its shealth as two of Zoku's creations brought their swords upon her.

Zoku stood by a large window as he turned to see what was happening.

"Kietha," his voice held surprise as he tried to keep his composure.

"Zoku," Kietha whispered, no longer aided by her shadows. She was bare for all the world to see. Just a humble assassin, her two swords, a gem and her light clothing.

"Let her in." Zoku commanded.

The creations stepped back and allowed Kietha to enter.

"Zoku," Kietha hastly made her way to him, dropping her sword to the floor. She embraced him and fell to her knees.

"I've been worrying about you, Kietha. Was afraid I had lost you forever." Zoku picked her up and stared into her almost colorless eyes.

"I am sorry, Zoku. So very sorry."

"Can I..." Kietha hesitated. "Can I spend the night with you, Zoku." Kietha pleaded, her eyes wide with ache.

Zoku's eyes held their cofussion as he bent down to kiss her. Kietha allowed the embrace to take a hold of her as she returned the gesture. A warmth filtered through both as a blue light engulfed them, as Zoku pulled back for a moment to look into Kietha's eyes, he watched them flicker and swirl to their natural green color. He smiled at her as they allowed passion to grab a hold of them both. The creations filtered out of the room as Kietha and Zoku spent their first, and maybe their last night together.

[B]Other:[/B] N/A[/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR][/CENTER]

[Engel]

[color=darkslategray][size=1][b]Name:[/b] I've got not time to tell you a name. If you insist, Kashi. "Apperant death" in Japanese.
[b]Nickname:[/b] Shichi. Number seven.
[b]Age:[/b] 389.
[b]Gender:[/b] Male.
[b]Species:[/b] Vampire.
[b]Clan:[/b] Krilrat Zmaj. It's the only one fit for me, ruled by a vampire with a great ambition for his own kind. Is there any other kind of good leader?

[b]Appearance:[/b] [url=http://img294.imageshack.us/my.php?image=bankai27fs.jpg]I've attached a picture [here].[/url] However, the orange hair was merely a cover to sneak into the Myrkur Aniol as a lesser Angel. Angel. Hmph. I am only fit to be vampire, not human, demon, angel, or dead. My hair is a light shade of silver, and my eyes a soft blood red with tinges of silver.

[b]Weapons:[/b] My trusty obsidian edged katana, with a Buddhist Manji at the hilt. Lightweight and extremely sharp, it serves as a channel for my power. A Manji is the symbol for luck, hence my nickname Shichi. Also, Manji is the name of this relic.

[b]Powers:[/b]

[u][i]Quicksilver[/i][/u] I can control time with this power. Think of it as...time acceleration fields around me, while time slowing effects take place of the outer world. This drains me the more I use it.

[u][i]Darkside:[/i][/u] I also have the power to bring out the blackness in the soul of people, and manipulate it into creatures of the night, or weapons, or a blast of explosive energy. It can also be used to summon the light away from an area, removing all sense of sound, sight, taste, and smell. Only touch remains for the enemy, while I employ full use of my senses. However...this is a complete drain on my power once the area collapses, and I am taken out of action for at least a day.

[i][u]Cherry Blossoms of the Blade:[/u][/i] The most unique power in my already formidible arsenal, the ability to summon cherry blossoms. However, they are only blossoms in appearance, in reality, they are millions, even more, of tiny but extremely sharp blades that reflect light, causing them to glow a light pink. I can control the flood to form into any shape I wish, or become a massive horde of blades. Anything. This is my most commonly used ability.

[i][u]Release:[/u][/i] My second long range attack, I charge up a blast of energy from the air around me, and fire it out from my blade.

[b]Personality:[/b] I am the opposite of what you would expect from a vampire. Fools. Creatures of the Night; velvet 17th century Victorian clothes? Maybe at one time, but what a cliche. I am personally dissatisfied. I can be cold, calculating, and extremely precise with where I want to hurt you most, be it with words or my blade, Manji or my own two fists and fangs. However, in the right company (In example: Krilrat Zmaj, and others on our side. Extremely pretty women included, vampire or not. Though...the latter can be fixed.), I can be somewhat of an older brother figure, and a calm and passionate man of the arts, including my own guitar playing, literature, etectra. I am truely opposite sides of the same coin.

[b]Biography:[/b] I was 'born' in the year of 1616 in the company of Kuroichi-taichio. However, an attack by the Gywar clan caused me, as a small infant, to be lost in the chaos. I managed to learn the rules of survival quickly, killing small cattle from a nearby farm. Japan was no place to live as a stranded vampire infant, though. In any case, I was resuced by a Nyroma visiting a friend of his in Japan.

I came back to Romania with him, and was raised as one of the Magic users. However, I soon realized that they were foolish for the most part, too mystic and myrad to make a descision on which side to be on in the war that was brewing. Late, one night, one of the oldest of the Nyroma came and visited me by my bedside. His name was Archmagi Xylem, and he tried to kill me that time.

He said that I was the creation of something that was never ment to be, which was Kuroichi. At that time, I held a great respect for Kuroichi-taichio already. When Xylem tried to take my life, and more importantly, my Manji, we went to battle.

I won. After that, I was forced to flee the Nyroma, and wandered for years, taking my prey carefully while making my way back to Japan-and my roots. Around the year of 1983, I was found by the Krilrat Zmaj, and quickly recruited upon a short battle with an officer that has become a close friend, Yurei of the West Gate. One of the four Guardians, Kuroichi-taichio's elite. I made my way up the ranks quickly, becoming Yurei's top lieutenant. If one of the other Guardians moved up, I would take their place. Or if they died...It's only a matter of time before one or the other happens.

[b]Writing Sample:[/b] [i]During a late night in the Nyroma clan...[/i]

Kashi sat on his bedside, his Manji right beside him. A breathy sigh escaped his pale lips, trailing up and off into the cold night's air. His hand trailed over to the bedstand, picking up a small, white and unidentifiable pack. Slim wihte fingers pulled out a cigarrette, along with the small red lighter. Placing the cigarette in his ruby-red lips, he lit it carefully and took a deep puff.

[b]"Christ...It's getting late."[/b] It was nearly 5 am, and Kashi had been up since about 7 pm. He had been wiped out and drunk, and the fact that sunlight hurt like hell kept him down. He pulled the cigarette back to his mouth, taking another slow puff and letting it out. Again, Kashi reached for something, but instead of the cool wood and metal of his guitar, his fingers met the cold fabric of nothing but Master Xylem's clothes.

[b]"Kashi. You're not just a vampire, are you..."[/b] He mused, stroking his wisened beard in thought. His cold glare turned to Kashi, his purple eyes locking into Kashi's silver-red eyes. They seemed to gaze at each other, eyes saying all their deathly mouths dare not. Xylem broke the spell with a spell of his own-a gigantic shard of ice that plunged through Kashi's side.

Kashi groaned, but grinned. He faked most of the pain, as his cherry blossoms deflected it. He lept back, grabbing Manji and his cherry red guitar. The flat side of his blade met Xylem's pillar of ice, shattering it.

[b]"Don't make me, old man...I'll gut you where you stand."[/b]

[b]"Try it, young blood...try it and you shall perish."[/b]

[b]"Deal."[/b] Kashi was gone in the blink of an eye, the cold midsummer's eve whipping through the air and the open window. The cigarette still limply hung form his mouth, and he took a puff before lauching into the battle, of blades and spells.

At the end of the battle, Kashi stood over the dead body of Xylem, pulling off part of Xylem's robe and cleaning off his blade.

[b]"...Kuroichi-taichio..."[/b]

[b]Other:[/b] Kashi's trademark song, that he preforms at night clubs and high end buisness palors is [i]Vampires will never hurt you[/i]. Rather ironic. Use MSN if you want me to send you the song.[/color][/size]

[Blayze]

[size=1]I've given Zuriel a pretty major overhaul, as I wasn't too happy with his character the last time round

[b]Name: [/b]He was once known as Zuriel, but now he is mostly known by his nickname
[b]Nickname: [/b]Seraphim
[b]Age: [/b]516 but looks to be in his mid-twenties
[b]Gender: [/b]Male
[b]Species: [/b]Vampire
[b]Clan: [/b]Loosely associated with the Myrkur Aniol


[b]Appearance: [/b][url="http://photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/?action=view¤t=nanami-02.jpg"]Here[/url], but his hair has now turned jet black, with streaks of red, and his eyes are yellow. His clothes are also completely black instead of dark blue.

[b]Weapons: [/b]A simple sword, shown [url="http://photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/?action=view¤t=g2_0262b.jpg"]here,[/url] as well as a dagger given to him upon joining the Myrkur Aniol, shown [url="http://photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/?action=view¤t=gh2025.jpg"]here[/url]

[b]Powers: [/b]Seraphim's powers are as follows:

[u][b]Telekinesis

[/b][/u]Pretty much self-explanitory, he can move things with his mind, as well as create pulses of energy tothrow his enemies backwards, onto spikes or into sunlight etc.

[u][b]Pyro

[/b][/u]Seraphim's main strength lies in his control over flame. He can create flame from his hands, and manipulate the flame to his will, creating monstrous beasts from the fires, as well as controlling the direction and amount of fire he creates. He can also wreath his sword in flame to burn his enemies.

[u][b]White Flame

[/b][/u]A power unique to Seraphim, he can create a type of flame that burns white instead of red, and, as with the other powers, he can control it completely, but this white flame burns twice as painfully as normal fire.

[u][b]Speed

[/b][/u]For short spells of time, and with massive concentration, Seraphim can increase his speed to massive levels, allowing him to move like quicksilver, in the blink of an eye. However, moving at this speed for more than around ten minutes leaves him completely exhausted.

[b]Personality: [/b]Seraphim is not a trusting vampire, having been betrayed many times in the past (see Bio), and as such he can come off as cold and unloving, but deep down, beneath the hatred which courses through his veins, there is a loving heart somewhere. He is a loyal friend once he has become trusting, but that takes a long time.

[b]Biography: [/b]Seraphim has been a vampire for as long as anyone can remember. He was turned over 500 years ago, and was rumoured to have been sired by Dracula himself. Even he does not remember his life as a human, and certainly nobody else does. It is possible that he was even born a vampire, a true pure-blood.

He has travelled around the globe, searching for a clan that suits him most, and he has found only one. The Myrkur Aniol, who re-christened him with the name Zuriel, meaning Rock of God. However, he soon became disillusioned with the Myrkur Aniol, and left them on a pilgrimage, but no-one knows where he was planning to travel. It was on these travels that he changed his name from Zuriel to Seraphim, and although he was still technically a member of the Myrkur Aniol, he announced that he had no clan.

However, he still travels back to the Myrkur Aniol in the Middle East on occasion, as he feels it is his spiritual home, but he is never there for more than a few weeks at a time.

Currently, his location is unknown, as is his goal. No-one is sure whether he is with or against Kuroichi except himself...

[b]Writing Sample: [/b]

[/size][indent][size=1]The desert. Hot. Dry. Barren. Unloving. The perfect place for the angel to face his demons.[/size]
[/indent][indent][size=1]Seraphim drew his sword, and brought it sharply across one palm. Blood spilled from the wound, and dripped steadily from his hand, dropping to the floor, mixing with the dust to make a thick, crimson paste. He knelt down and dipped his finger into the blood. He drew a strange sigil with it, using the ancient language of the Myrkur Aniol.

As soon as he withdrew his finger, the sigil began to flame, burning with dark fire. The burning pyre grew and grew, until it was almost as tall as the man who had created it. He drew in a deep breath and held it, then walked straight forward through the fire. The heat cleansed him, and the flames were absorbed into his body.

As he stepped out the other side of the fire, he was cleansed, and the fire was little more than burning embers. He was done here. He picked up his meagre belongings and carried on his journey.

[i]A few days later...

[/i]They attacked without warning, and without a proper plan of attack. Five or six vampires, he couldn't tell, armed with blades as long as their forearms. Some with swords, others with glaives, axes, even bladed gauntlets. They jumped him in the night, as he lay down to sleep.

His sword was out within moments, and one of them was dead as soon as the weapon was unsheathed, his blood staining the blade. The others backed off somewhat after this, and he closed his eyes and said a few words in some strange, unknown language. His sword suddenly burst into flames, and he hurled the weapon at the furthest vampire. It cut through him and he was incinerated by the flames as the blade made contact.

The rest of them were scared by now, and as he kept chanting strange words, they backed away. Suddenly, flames, white as a pure snowfall leapt from his hands, throwing themselves at the vampires like huge tendrils belonging to some bizarre demon. They were incinerated instantly, and he opened his eyes. The flames subsided, and he picked up his weapons. It was clearly not in his best interests to stay here now.

One vampire remained, now scared stiff. Seraphim had not noticed him in the maelstrom, and he re-drew his sword, and drew his arm backwards.

[b]"Please don't kill me," [/b]pleaded the vampire.

[b]"The Lord shows no mercy, filth," [/b]replied the Angel, thrusting the blade through the vampire's chest. He died, and the Angel resheathed his weapon. He needed cleansing again after this, but it could wait a few more hours...

[/size][/indent][b][size=1]Other: [/size][/b][size=1]Seraphim hates to hear his former name, that of the angel Zuriel, and hearing it will cause him to fly into a rage which he cannot remember afterwards.[/size]
[indent][size=1] [/size][/indent] [b][size=1]Hope thats ok for you, ULX, I edited the Writing Sample[/size][/b]
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[DeathKnight]

[color=crimson][b]Name[/b]: Original name unknown. Has gone by the name Lucian for some time now.

[b]Nickname[/b]: (The) Scourge (Of Byzantine)[archaic]; Avatar of the Moon [current].

[b]Age[/b]: 1400 at the least.

[b]Gender[/b]: Male.

[b]Species[/b]: Vampire.

[b]Clan[/b]: Nyroma but he has a very loose loyalty, if any at all, to them.

[b]Appearance[/b]: Is as attached.

[b]Weapons[/b]: None, aside from himself..

[b]Powers[/b]: Lucian is an [b]illusionist[/b] who destroys minds, hearts and souls. He uses illusionary magic to various degrees to induce nightmarish hallucinations upon a person or persons- the nightmares they fall into are real enough that physical harm comes about from them. Death can come quickly to his victims. Those that survive are left with, at the least, psychological scars- at the most, they are left completely void of sanity. The number of people he can affect at once with this is massive and depends solely upon how much he wants to tire himself.

Aside from this, Lucian is an accomplished [b]photokinetic[/b]. He can manipulate light in a myriad of ways, although he primarily uses this to remove light and create covers of darkness.

[b]Personality[/b]: Lucian is a taciturn person. When he does talk, the things that come out of mouth can be one of several things- cynicism, sarcasm, wisdom or eccentric comments. He's devoid of anger and rarely seems depressed or happy- contentment has an iron grip around his heart [which isn't too bad of a thing]. He's mainly calm- quiet, aloof. He can be brutally honest sometimes- his scathing opinions land him in hot water, but it's a bad habit that he seems to enjoy having. A good strategist, his taciturn nature delegates him to the role of adviser since he lacks the charisma to lead groups of men effectively. In a fight he just gets to the point, using his illusionary magic skillfully. He lacks mercy- severely lacks it, really. He views those that get in his way as being very, very expendable and does not hesitate to destroy them. One quirky thing about him is that he loves kids. Around kids he is a much different, more normal and likable person.

[b]Bio[/b]: Scourge. How he became a vampire is unknown, but his arrival was of great aid to the Byzantine Empire. Their holdings in the Balkans had come under serious threat from raiding Slavic and Avar people- which was just one of the many threats the Empire faced at the time. It's not known if he was a member of a clan at the time but there is evidence that he was a member of the Nyorma. He meddled in the affairs of men and, on his own, set about rebuffing the invaders as best he could. The slaughter he invoked on them earned him the affectionate nickname "Scourge". He was a demon to the raiders, something not mentioned but known by all. A few decades of this slaughter to pass- Scourge refined his sorcery as he killed, beginning the long path he would take to becoming a sage of it. Killing and killing and killing- it was boring, after awhile. Repetitive, really.

Finally, though, the Empire was secure and Scourge's services were mostly unneeded. He considered this a blessing. He had grown tired of being involved in human squabbles and lost any loyalty he had for human nations. His loyalty rested with himself, mainly- his clanship was more mandatory than something he chose to do. For many centuries Scourge spent his time studying or traveling, disinterested in the dealings of vampires and humans. This period of vagrancy and relative inactivity caused him to fade from the minds of most, and the name 'Scourge' was forgotten. He continued this lifestyle until the emergence of the Krilat Zmaj. This event woke him out of his wandering life and he returned to his clan as 'Lucian'. His nickname having faded into antiquity, he gave himself one- Avatar of the Moon. A quirky and cumbersome nickname, most people prefer to call him Lucian.

Having returned to the world of vampires, he is intrigued by the ideas the Krilat Zmaj have. He has been debating for some time now whether or not he should defect to their clan. Lucian doesn't feel the need to rush the decision and has remained relatively lazy in his life. Lacking any drive or motivation to do anything he seems to be in dire need of some excitement in his life- something to revive what he was when he was called 'Scourge'.

[b]Writing Sample[/b]: Lucian knelt beside the dying soldier. His breathing was shallow and he could tell that there was little time left in his life.

"Silver." The soldier sputtered out, blood pouring down his chin. "Silver hair." His dying words would be cryptic to some but Lucian was already aware of the person he spoke of. He stood and coldly examined the battlefield around him. The bodies were everywhere. The efficiency of the Silver-Haired Demon in battle was obvious. Still, Lucian wasn't here for any of this. He walked away from the dying soldier, past the bodies and out of the area.

The night was warm, the darkness around him felt like a cloak. The picturesque scenery was marred but still further signs of the ongoing war. He had bad timing for sure- coming to the United States a month prior to the first shot being fired. What brutality these men impose on themselves. Yet, with that thought, he stopped and peered up to the sky, the stars peering back. Was this much different from the ever fragmented world of the vampires? A mental shrug. It didn't concern him. There were still more lands to travel to, more places to quietly take in. This was all unimportant. He carried on through the evening, moving through the terrain with deftness. His traveling cloak billowed as he raced away. He had no destination in mind but he sought a calmer area than this.

Hours later, he arrived a town. It was lifeless at night save for the local bar- it seemed as good a place as any to waste some time at. He moved inside without attracting any attention. Most of them seemed to be more concerned with a possible brawl than anything else. The loud yelling was somewhat amusing to him and he casually went past the squabbling humans, sitting down at the bar. The man next to him turned to him. He reeked of alcohol and swayed drunkenly in his seat.

"Shayy.. a new face! Whare you from?" He slurred out with some difficulty.

Lucian slowly turned to the drunken man and stared at him coldly. The drunken man leaned forward and stared back, still swaying. Lucian smiled and shook his head, "I am but a wanderer."

[b]Other[/b]: I'm going on a brief vacation for 10 or so days.. but I should be able to inject myself into whatever you have up rather easily. I wasn't in the other WotBs so I don't know if you want new blood or not. Sorry for any trouble.[/color]

[Redemption]

OOC: Totally new character, but with similar characteristics.

[color=red][size=1][b]Name:[/b] Leila (Arabic for 'as dark as night')

[b]Nickname:[/b] The Fan Maiden

[b]Age:[/b] 950

[b]Gender:[/b] Female

[b]Species:[/b] Vampire

[b]Clan:[/b] Gyshram

[b]Appearance:[/b] See attachment - without the nine tails and dog ears.

[b]Weapons:[/b] Two fans that have razor-sharp steel blades that are able to spread out like fingers. Still uses them like a fan as a weapon, able to cut through flesh and bone easily.

[b]Powers:[/b]

[i]Shadow Dimesion:[/i] Able to go into a semi-dimesion inside another person's shadow using a rare eye technique unique to the Gyshram. They say if you kill a person's shadow, you kill their soul.

[b]Personality:[/b] Vivacious, coy, elegant and graceful - that's how her comrades describe her. Leila is one of those women that is able to take men and do what she wishes with them. Vampires that don't know her think of her as a very proper lady, always doing what a lady should do, even when it comes to her bloodlust. But Keitha, one of her closest friends, knows better.

Despite being very lady-like in manner at times, Leila is ruthless to the core. She will not hesistate to overcome any obstacle in her path, even if it is a more powerful being than her. Her green eyes are devoid of many emotions when she dances with her fans.

[b]Bio:[/b] Leila was born in the sandy Arabian desert, to a family of noble Gyshram vampires. She lived there until she was two and a half when a marauding group of vampires from Europe decided to lay waste to her family. Her brother, Faris, took her through one of the many hidden passageways out into the desert. He managed to get her to the Gyshram Lord's home where both of them were treated for sunstroke and dehydration.

The Lord decided to send the two over to Japan to get and education and to learn some unique fighting styles. This is where Leila learnt her fan dancing technique. Her sensei even gave her the steel fans which she uses to this day. When she and Faris returned to the Arabian desert, they were taken back into the Gyshram's fold where they became very successful assassins.

This is when Leila met Keitha. Leila was only 50 years younger than Keitha, so the two became rather like sisters and were on equal terms with each other. They even trained together when Keitha was the first to experience Leila's Shadow Dimension Technique. Luckily, Keitha was and still is the only one that has survived this technique, after Leila spent numerous decades perfecting it. (Sorry this isn't very good, I'm rather sick at the moment.)

[b]Writing Snippet:[/b] (Sorry about the mix-up)

[INDENT]" What news from our Lord?" came a smooth coy female voice from the shadows, a loud snap accompanying her enquiry. An eldery man bowed to the woman. He was dressed in the typical waiter attire with a pair of large round spectacles perched on his nose. Strangely, he also wore a pair of white gloves on his hands.

" Milady, his Lord wishes you disperse some vampires that have been running amuck lately. He says they are giving the clan a bad name."

Another loud metallic snap echoed through the shadows. " Very well," the female sighed. " If our Lord has nothing better for me to do than to kill some punks, then ..."

A soft growl eminated from the woman. The waiter stiffled a snigger.
" Keep your composure milady. I'm sure there is a reason to our Lord's madness in sending you to do such meager work."

[center]========================[/center]

A young woman's screaming echoed from down a dark alleyway. There was also loud malicious laughter from three men. The young woman scurried backwards, knocking over a trash can in her desperate attempt to get away from the three advancing vampires, all laughing, all baring their elongated eye teeth.

" SOMEONE! HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME!" the woman screamed.

" There's no one to help you. You're all alone," one of the male vampires sniggered. His companions laughed out aloud. The woman's eyes were wide with terror.

A sudden fluttering caught the attention of the male vampires' senses. They looked behind them. Nothing. They looked back to the woman to find another lovely lady dressed in a red and white kimono standing before them. Her long cream-blonde hair flowed over her shoulders like water over a waterfall.

" Woooo! Look what we have here. Another lady wants to join in on our fun boys."

Then they noticed the fans in her hands. Leila looked up at them with her cold jade-green eyes.

" I would like to tell you that our Lord is not very pleased with your behaviour..." Leila breathed in the silence. The three took a step backwards.
" You mean..." one of them asked in a whisper.
Leila smiled. " Indeed. I do mean the Lord of the Gyshram. I have come to deal you your punishment for your actions."

The two fans snapped out with a flick of her wrists as she flew towards the three with incredible speed. One swipe of the fans and the nearest vampire's head toppled off his body, blood spraying all over Leila. She twirled on her foot, bringing her fans around for a second sweep. This time she split the next vampire into halves, his inards splaying everywhere. Leila, twisting her body through the air, brought her fans vertically down the centre of the last, crouching on the ground as the halves split apart and landed on the ground with a dull thud.

The young woman looked on anxiously. All she could see in the darkness was flashes of silver fans. All she could hear was the silent sounds of a battle that was controlled by one person. Then she saw that woman who had miracously appeard out of nowhere to save her, except...

There were splatters of blood all over her beautiful white kimono and her white oval face, and through her perfect cream-blonde hair. She almost floated towards her. The woman backed into a wall, and with a terrified look at the the woman who saved her, who was now face-to-face with her. There was a smile on her face, but she couldn't help feel uncomfortable around her saviour.

Leila let her hand wander to the woman's neck. The woman instantly put her head back, trying to get away from her creeping hand. Leila lent forward, and pierced the woman's neck. Then, she began to drink.[/INDENT][/color][/size]

OOC: PM me if this isn't ok by anyone's standards.

[Kairi]

EDIT: My apologizes ULX for the misunderstanding with the Writing Sample...this is now corrected.

[SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkSlateGray][CENTER][COLOR=Black]Name:[/COLOR]
Vylon (pre-reincarnant of Zoku-san)

[COLOR=Black]Nickname[/COLOR]: none

[COLOR=Black]Age[/COLOR]: 600 (in this lifetime)

[COLOR=Black]Gender[/COLOR]: Male

[COLOR=Black]Species[/COLOR]: Vampire

[COLOR=Black]Clan[/COLOR]: Nyroma

[COLOR=Black]Appearance:[/COLOR]
Vylon stands at 6foot, 175 pounds with a well toned body which is tightened by black underarmor that is covered by his black shirt and grey robes. With blue/black hair that comes down to his necks' middle and over his eyes...he wears a black sash over his eyes due to him being blind. He wears a blue ring with the insignia of their Queen who roles over the Nyroma.

[COLOR=Black]Weapons: [/COLOR]
Weilds a long, thin metal pole with a pointed/symmetrical spear on it's end which is enchanted which looks like a blue flame (same color as his hair) that seems to radiate from the blade itself. When casually walking around with it...he wraps it in a silky black cloth which sudsides the flame while covered...masking it's power.

Another weapon which is unseen is his "third eye." A physical technique which was taught by the Queen herself when he began his training to become the Queen's head bodyguard. He first had to sacrifice his ability to see...and from there...he learned to sense the world around him without sight. Using the life energies of everyone, and everything around him...he's able to create the world around him in his mind. This technique gives him superb agility, speed, and reflexes...and is the root of his powers Mind Flay and Shadow Blast. (one day the Queen says that he will be able to regain his sight)

[COLOR=Black]Powers: [/COLOR]
[B]Mind Flay[/B]- This is a channeled beam of blue/white light that bursts from his palm and enters the victims body through their eyes and mouth. Once inside, Vylons power begins to attack the individuals heart...then spreading from there to the rest of the body. Doing this causes the victim to have a significant decline in speed and movement. Mind Flay continues until it is interrupted or the victim is dead.

[B]Shadow Blast[/B]- This is a short term charged attack...Vylon will release an explosive burst of energy around the victim on a particular part of their body which creates immense pressure and damage. May also be used to push back his opponents if blast is created away from their body.
[B]
Power Word Shield[/B]- Creates a powerful bubble like shield that surrounds his entire body. Once the shield takes a certain amount of damage Vylons protection will fade,

[B]Blink[/B]- Vylon is able to transport himself from one spot to another. If in a short distance...he is able to move instantly. However if it is a greater distance...it involves charging his teleportation a bit longer. This tires him if done for too long...

[B]Mind Control[/B]- He understands his limitations in controlling the minds of someone who is strong willed. But he is able to use this ability when someone is weak physically...or mentally. Can control multiple minds in an unlimited range...depending on Vylons strength and concentration.

[COLOR=Black]Personality:[/COLOR]
He is what you would think of as a typical blind man. Vylon is very calm and peaceful...almost un-nerving kind of calmness about him...as if he had not a fear nor worry in the world, despite his many responsibilities and pressures. Along with this peace comes a very intense demonor about him.

However...Vylon also has an uncontrable lust for blood...he constantly feeds on vampires and humans alike. He endulges himself in any desire he sets his eyes upon...thus becoming a pure killer. He still has a heart...but bows to no one, only to the Queen and those he highly respects.

[COLOR=Black]Bio: [/COLOR]
([I]Zoku is a character in the later partof the storyline of this rpg; for those who weren't a part of this before. Was a human who worked to end the war...then later became a vampire and grew into nothing less than a behemoth. His power grows with every new body he's born into...his memories are contained within a journal he keeps with him and finds every new life

4000 years ago...as a child Zoku was bitten by a vampire. But an archangel cursed him, taking the vampire within him out...but leaving the thirst to kill...to spill anothers blood; and it would never be satisfied. Whenever Zoku died...he would come back in another life still contaning the memories of his past...as well as his strengths. Over these 4000 years, in all of his lifetimes he learned to control massive amounts of KI within himself...his strength and speed was incredible, especially for a human. And as wise and pure as he tried to make himself out to be...he was always torn by the demon side within him.

When he was taking refuge in Dracula's castle...after giving the Death Diamond and Sapphire of Skulls to Kyu. He lost control and snapped in his bedroom...crying out for someone to help him before the demon took hold. But the lord of the Grysham came and broke him and his friendship for Keitha. Zoku had grown attached to her...and even began to like her, still knowing that it couldn't be possible. So after he was attacked by the high lord...Zoku fled and ravaged his anger and killing against every town he came upon.

Caine came to him, trying to help the pour human. Taking it upon himself...Caine turned Zoku...in a hope that he would protect him when the fellow Gwyar turned against him. However...the Dark Moonstone took hold of him unleashing the evil within Zoku and he killed Caine himself with his guard down[/I].)

Vylon has been a part of the Nyroma since the day it left the Gwyar, (in this lifetime he has been a vampire since birth). All it's members created a powerful barrier that surrounded their temple and city which was naked to the human eye in the middle of the desert in Eastern Europe. For his entire life he has devoted himself to the Queens side being her most trusted advisor, protecting her with his blade and powers.

He's had many wives...and many children who he's seen grow up and die before his eyes. One day...the Queen approached him and asked if he wanted to become her first above all in their city of Cyrus. He accepted...and so she took away his sight, and teached him to develope their ancient powers.

However...because of these teachings...his body has made a slight change...in order to fuel his dark powers...he must not only take the blood and life of humans...but of vampires.

[COLOR=Black]Writing Sample: [/COLOR]

It was nothing less than fun...playing around in their minds...looking upon them in their everyday living.

[B]"What the hell...why did you hit me Scyver!?"[/B] yelled a complaining woman in the middle of the street. It was night, and all of Moscow was awake due to the holiday. Resturants were packed full with customers...the town was lively...as was the dead. The man beside her who could be seen as her lover, suddenly had slapped her across the face. The red imprint from his hand was clearly visible as the people around them looked in disgust.

[B]"I...don't know sweetheart...[I]Es tut ich Leid[/I]"[/B] he replied...

[I]strange to see a German couple in Russia during this time of year...oh well...no one will be looking for them then...[/I]

The two began to fight with one another as Vylon laughed to himself from the rooftop above. Such things were childish he knew...but in the thrill of the hunt...you savor the moment as much as possible to the end...and this night...Vylon chose humor.

Finally...the two yelled out at one another, resulting in the young woman turning on her heel and continuing to walk. Scyver stood still...confused and bewildered at what had just happened. Vylon almost felt sorry for him...for it was not his fault at all.

Turning away from the street, the tall and well built looking man rested his back on the wall nearby wall and slumpt to ground...just imagining the loss that he just suffered.

As like the wind itself, Vylon instantly vanished from his perp and reappeared around the corner and grabbed the young man around the corner and pulled him into the ally before anyone took notice.

For a brief moment Scyver looked at his predator...a blue haired man with a sash wrapped around his eyes...however the fangs that now grew from his teeth were quite large...bigger than normal vampires.

Almost choking the man to death...Vylon looked upon his prey through his third eye, always in awe at the art and beauty of his work. The human had a blue outline around black void which shows a red glow pulsing through its body, seeing its hotspots...seeing the heart fully exposed.

Savoring the moment till it's end...Vylon satisfied himself by lunging his fangs into the humans neck, ripping at its flesh as if it were meat. The jugular was fully exposed...the wound flooding with blood as Vylon feasted to his cravings content.

Suddenly he heard the voice of the woman calling out Scyvers name. Quickly taking himself away from his prey...he laid the mans body just outside the ally, the bites view lay away from the view of the street.

Vylon only had to influence her mind just slightly to bring her view over to Scyver who now lay motionless. She immidiately say him and quickly ran to her lover...only to be snatched herself into the darkness.

[COLOR=Black]Other: [/COLOR]
[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue]Good to see this back up and running...let us see where this goes...[/COLOR][/CENTER][/COLOR][/SIZE]

[Zen]

[color=sienna][size=1][center]

[B][U]Name:[/U][/B]

Lord Orlok

[B][U]Nickname:[/U][/B]

"Daemon of the Night, Nosferatu"

[B][U]Age:[/U][/B]

Unknown

[B][U]Gender:[/U][/B]

Male

[B][U]Species:[/B][/U]

Vampire

[B][U]Clan:[/U][/B]

Gwyar

[B][U]Appearance:[/U][/B]

Lord Orlok has gone through many metamorphisis through out his existance as a creature of the night. In order to retain his daily affairs, he has adopted the appearance of a young man in his early thirties with neck length, groomed black hair and handsome, clean shaven features. He still retains his pale complexion however, aswell as his crimson eyes, which are said to have power of the soul. He stands at a lanky 6'1'', weighing no more than 170 lbs. He is seen always appareled in a dark business suit of all black, including jacket, shirt, and tie. He also favors a dark black trench coat which covers the mass of his body, rendering only his feet, hands, and head visible. Though still a fearful sight to the mortal eye, few have ever seen the true nature of the one they call "Nosferatu", those unfortunate few either being his victims, or the original members of the Gwyar Clan.

[B]Weapons:[/B] Lord Orlok's natural abilities have surpassed the need for swords and daggers, his only weapon being his steel-like claws and his fangs.

[B][U]Powers:[/U][/B]

[B]Eye of the Crimson Soul:[/B] Lord Orlok has the ability to peer into the psyche of his prey, rendering their mind to his will. He has been known to stun or hypnotize those foolish enough to take him in battle.

[B]Super Strength and Speed:[/B] Through his ages of existance, Lord Orlok has sculpted his body and dark soul to it's peak of combat efficiency. His speed and power in battle have been known to be unmatchable.

[B]Telekinesis:[/B] Through the power of immortality, Lord Orlok has gained the ability of telekinesis. Though seldom used, once his true form is needed, he is known to rip through his opponents with the power of thought and concentration.

[B]Crimson Claws:[/B] Lord Orlok's finger nails have hardened and elongated into knife-like claws that are able to peirce any surface. He favors using these supernatural weapons in combat, piercing and ripping the flesh of his opponents with his bare hands.

[B]Crimson Rebirth:[/B] In ancient legend, there spoke of a being so powerful, so ruthless, that it's being rendered only one name, "Daemon of the Night, Nosferatu". This is the name given to Lord Orlok's true form. When he awakens this ancient power, none are able to match his brutal power. It is said that once this form is taken, there would be no time to even see it before one's life was already taken.


[B][U]Personality:[/B][/U]

Lord Orlok is a solemn, quiet man who keeps his thoughts mostly to himself in meetings. But when he speaks, he cuts his words down to the point. He does not favor the dance-like routines that the Clan Heads like to carry on with, laying down his firm opinion when asked, and not taking a word back. He is a very final man, and is known for his cool temper in all of his affairs.

Level headed and calm in day to day life, he is known as a completely different being in battle. His demeanor becomes that of a ravenous beast, moving with the speed of an un-earthly being, he is known for his maniacal cackling and beast-like battle cries as he slaughters his foes like a wolf amongst lambs.

[B][U]Biography:[/B][/U]

Legend has it that the beast known as Nosferatu born from the Prince of Lies himself. This legend is believed even by his peers of the Gwyar Clan. The truth of his origin is unknown to everyone save the man called Lord Orlok. Lord Orlok was one of the originators of the Gwyar Clan of Vampires, allying himself with the other lords of darkness, including the one that would later be known as lord Dracula. This would lead to their eventual confusion for one another, though they were both very distinct personalities.

Lord Orlok was a major figure through out Eastern Europe during the dark and middle ages, rallying his own following and ursurping his power in the Germanic regions with a minimum of blood shed. Simply, he absorbed smaller, individual clans through his natural ability to lead men. However, he quickly made an example of any who betrayed his trust or put up defense against his rule. Through that, many both feared and respected him. Benevolent in his reign, Lord Orlok was able to come to power of what would eventually become Germany, aswell as most of the countries south of it, whilst his frequent partner, Lord Dracula, took the lands of Romania and the area surrounding it. Always, Orlok was able to subside internal conflict amongst his underlings with a minimum of violence, and was regarded highly through out as a man of great valor and honor. A rare quality in vampire.

Both a gentleman and benevolent of a ruler, Lord Orlok was popular in and out of his land of rule. Always being sure to represent his people well in the Gwyar Councel, while also keeping his silent, to the point demeanor. However, his seemingly unaggresive attitude to rule was never mistaken for weakness, for those who knew him before reign also knew of his immense power in battle. He was therefore also greatly respected by his peers.

As of late, Lord Orlok has felt a great storm brewing in the far East. He knew a new era of war was soon to come. He slowly seemlessly readied his land for battle, aswell as perparing himself for glorius combat, something he truely missed. For the first time in centuries, excitement and bloodlust coursed through Lord Orlok's body and soul. He was ready for war...

[B][U]Writing Snippet:[/B][/U]

(My Honest Mistake...)


The year is 1256, the war of the smaller vampire clans in the Germanic lands are still going strong. A heavy confrontation was brewing in the city of Rammstein, as the rogue warriors of the Greisha Clan held their ground as the approaching forces of the detested being known as Nosferatu led a peaceful invasion into the city streets. Darkness bathed the cobblestone pathaways, lanterns of wax and oil the only source of light on the starless night. Surrounded by hooded figures in black, a man attired in a heavy cloak and the garments of a light-footed soldier came in trotting on the back of an ebony stallion, it's head and back decorated with a fine saddle and reigns. The dark figure riding it's back, controlling the beast with ease, stopped in the center of the street. His clothing consisted of a Long, black coat consisting of what seemed to be the pelts of several wolves. He wore a light, leather vest of black with a matching undershirt, aswell as black trousers tucked into long-legged boots.

He stood there in the streets for moments, staring from under the hood of his cloak with what seemed to be bloody red eyes, peircing into the souls of the Greisha vampires, giving particular attention to their leader, who stood in the center of the group of particularly grough looking men. His name was Gustav Vormandus. He was a husky, bearded man with a particularly arrogant demeanor about him. He then began to speak,[B] "What business to ye have in my village?"[/B] he spoke in what seemed to be ruffian grunts.

[B]"My name is Lord Orlok of the Clan Gwyar..." [/B]the figure ontop the horse spoke in a tongue of fine silk, his words complemented by his rich tone of voice. [B]"I have come to this place to request the peaceful surrender of your clan, and to be accepted into my own prestigous clan. You will be taken care of finally, just as long this procedure can be handled... peacefully..."[/B] he spoke, envising his last word with the tone of a threat.

To his great annoyance, the entire group of men began laughing in deep haws at his request. This caused a small twing in his brow. The Greisha leader spoke, trying to subside his laughter, [B]"Y-you surely can't be speaking in your wits, sire... Heh. Me and my clan don't answer to no ones, but ourselves!"[/B] he said with great power, raising a thick battle sword from his side and above his head, much to the chagrin of his men, who joined him with a loud 'Huzzah'![B] "Now..."[/B] he began again,[B] "If ye want my land, and my people, then ye will have to bleed for it!"[/B] he growled loudly, exposing his thick, blackened fangs to his men who also followed suit. But their cheering slowly stopped as they heard another man's laughter come from across from them. It was Lord Orlok ontop his horse, who cackled with great amusement, his light laughs turning into deep, heavy growls of laughter as he looked down his nose at the men in front of him.

[B]"Your words... Your arrogance... They annoy me greatly. HAHAHA!!!"[/B] Lord Orlok began laughing again and continued to eyeball the Greisha leader. [B]"Do you truely believe you can harm the Daemon KING!?!?!" [/B]Orlok roared with great vigor, suddenly dissapearing from the saddle of his horse. A ruckus broke out amongst the Greisha's, shouting cries of confusion peering around their surrounding for the shadow of a man. Suddenly a short screech and a liquid-splatter alerted them as they turned with great suprise to see their leader held slightly off the ground. His obnoxius voice silenced by the clawed hand rammed through his upper abdomen, blood gushing and spilling onto the ground in large amounts. [B]"No being, dead or alive, threatens the Daemon of the Night. You cowards of the Greisha? Do you wish to meet same the fate as this pig of a vampire?!" [/B]Orlok growled feircly, dropping the now dead Gustav off his arm, limp onto the cobblestone street into a puddle of crimson liquid.[B] "Or do you wish to serve a true vampire lord?!"[/B]


From that day on, all vampire under the clan of Greisha fell into the orders of the Gwyar. Rammstein shortly after became Lord Orlok's base of operations through out the Germanic regions...

[B][U]Other:[/U][/B]

Little know that Lord Orlok has a soft spot for women. Though he is not a lustful man, he does not like to go very long without a woman to call his own. Orlok has married several times in his existance, loving the woman he was with until she died naturally. So is the curse of immortality. His wives, all vampire, are sadly unable to stay alive as long as he himself. This is a fact of life Orlok has come to accepts, and allows himself to fall in love over and over again across the centuries.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finished.... Please inform me if any change is needed.


[/center][/color][/size]

[Onix]

[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]Good sign-ups so far, everyone, and I'm glad to see so much interest, but I there's something I apparently didn't make terribly clear: the Writing Snippit is not just a piece from any old RPG. It's supposed to be by you, in the character you're writing the sign-up for. Hopefully, the situation will quickly be remedied, as I don't want to wait too terribly long to start this baby up.

Otherwise, just about everything looks good so far.

-ULX[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[natchan]

Name: Yvonne Scott

Nickname: Sunshine

Age: 23

Gender: I'm a Girl!

Species: Vampire

Clan: Knubrap

Appearance: See attachments, she looks like the brunet, but dresses like the blond in the red!

Weapons: Rapier

Powers: Telekinesis, a bit of Telepathy, and she has the ability to bend the shadows to her will. This way she can block unwanted light easier, or take away someones cover if int he same shadow. And one attack that she hasn't quite mastered, "Recall Light" this is merely a memory of sunlight that is projected into the mind of her opponent. In doing this she causes her enemy to be stunned for only a moment.

Personality: Well as you can tell be her age, Yvonne is a very young Vampire. She was sired only recently and is still adjusting to her knew way of life. This makes her hesitant, unsure, confused, afraid, and all around jumpy. She does not like the idea of needing the blood of others to survive, but she doesn't like the idea of just flat out dying either. Unfortunately she is easliy manipulated, one her flaws, but she is incredibly loyal once shes decided.

Bio: Yvonne was born in the great big city of New York and has lived there her entire life. She lived a completely normal life. She lived with a cat named BT, went to work, payed rent, and even occasionally went on dates. She did however learn how to fence at a young age and continues to do so. Aside from working in the basment she loves to be out in the daylight, this would change.
She worked as a Libraian in the downtown Library, but never had much to do but read, she worked in the basement where hardly anyone ever ventured. She was also the one who closed up every night, this is how she met Victor. Now she only saw Victor after dark when she closed up the library, so naturally she did think of the fact that she never saw him the day light. As luck would have it, Victor turned out to be a Vampire, and well one thing led to another.
Even though Yvonne herself has been turned into a vampire, she is absolutely terrified of other vampires, though she attempts to hide it. She does not like having to drink peoples blood in the least bit, so living in the largest city on her side of the states there are thankfully plenty of homeless people near death every day, so she puts them out of their misery and manages to keep herself going. Rather shameful of a vampire she figures but somtimes she likes to not think of herself as one.

Writing Sample: Yvonne left the library closing the door behind her and turning to lock it. Stifling a yawn as she did so.

"You're later than usual." The low voice stated. She jumped slightly but knew the voice to be Victor's. She turned on her heels to face the young man and smiled.

"Good evening Victor, and how are you on this chilly December night?" She asked cheerfully. She always did love it when Victor showed up to walk her home. They had been seeing eachother for almost 2 months now, and Yvonne loved having him around, she had never had male company for more than a week or two.

"I am Particularly well this fine night." He answered offering his arm. This was another thing that Yvonne loved about Victor he was so gentleman like.

"So what's on the agenda for this eveing Victor? Dinner, Movie, Pool Hall, Bar, Window Shopping..."

"I was thinking that we could just go to your place this eveing." His voice was smoother than usual, this caught Yvonnes attention quickly.

"Really?" She stopped walking for a moment. Victor looked back at her and smiled his dashing smile.

"Is that a problem?"

"No." Yvonne stated absent mindedly. [I]He wants to go to my place. Maybe he wants.... nah.[/I] She thought to herself as she continued to walk along side Victor. He took her hand in his as the strode down the sidewalk, this brought butterflies to Yvonnes stomach.

"Woah! Victor, your hands are freezing, how long have you been outside?" She replied taking his hand in both of hers attempting to warm it up.

"Its no big deal, I naturally have cold hands." He remarked very matter-o-factly.

The two of them reached Yvonnes appartment, which Victor had never actually been inside of. They entered the small appartment, and Yvonne took their coats and hung them up in the closet. Victor looked around to finds books, canvas's, and paint everywhere.

"I didn't know that you paint. These are really good." He stated examining one closley. The painting was of a young woman being embraced from behind my a slightly older man. The man was the depiction of a vampire and there was blood running down the girls neck onto her blue dress. Victor lauged to himself. "Whats the story behind this one?" He asked. Yvonne came closer to the painting, standing slightly infront of him.

"Oh this one was actually a request, but the stroy is that the young girl met the man of her dreams. He was everything she desired and more, and then he turned out to be a vampire." She replied her voice getting quieter as she did so. Then she jumped slightly as Victor put his arms around her in the very same way the man in the painting had his. Then he brought his lips close to her ear and whispered.
"Well its a lovely painting, same as the artist." Yvonne could feel the blood rush to her face and she knew she was blushing from the compliment. Victor turned Yvonne around to face him and placed his lips upon hers before she could even gasp from surprise. Yvonne did not fight him, but in fact returned the kiss. Everything in her mind told her not to fight him, and that this is what she wanted. Victor's lips moved down to her neck and Yvonne practicly sank, but managed to keep her footing, but was suddenly brought back to reality when she felt the sharpness of teeth penitrating her skin. She gasped in shock and pain, but could not fight him, her body refused, and she felt tears come to her eyes. He released her for only a moment to speak.

"The pain won't last long." He stated in his low silken voice, then resumed. Yvonne was too shocked to speak as she felt her life seep away. The world around began to spin and her vision blurred. She could feel her muscles begin to fail ash victor now fully supported her. The last thing she remembered was a tear sliding down her cheek.

[Starwind]

[B]Name:[/B] Ramiel

[B]Nick name:[/B] Thunder Angel

[B]Age:[/B] 382

[B]Gender:[/B] Male

[B]Species:[/B] Vampire

[B]Clan:[/B] Myrkur Aniol

[B]Appearance:[/B] Below, ignore the wings. there meant to be implied for his clan

[B]Weapon:[/B] Sword seen in attachment, as well as a silver whip.

[B]Powers[/B]
[I]Lightening[/I]- His general ability. He is called the thunder angel for this very reason, in his ability to manipulate and manifest electricity. With this he is able to charge both his wepons and summon monsterous familars. His control his almost absolute, though he finds in the heat of battle sometimes things get out of hand.

[I]Burst Speed[/I]- While he has average level running speeds, he is able to generate tremendous levels of sprinting speed. These only last a few seconds and can't be done repeatdly, but are a valueable asset when fighting. He generate speed parrallel to any other vampire in only a short burst, but this has helped keep him alive in the past.

[I]White Bolt[/I]- An attack unique to himself. He uses his silver whip and generates the pure silver with a powerful charge of electricity and uses it as such. The mix of lightening and silver cause the whip to dance sharply with a white radiance, thus the name white bolt.

[I]Scripter[/I]: This is telepathic power. With this he is able to insert bit thoughts into the head of those in proximity to him; this power holds no bearing over a distance of twenty feet. With it he is able to cause doubt to spread through the thoughts of his enemies and thoughts of confidence in his allies.

[B]Personality[/B]: He is inquisitve in his nature and this often causes his superiors to question his loyalty. He is not a very noble fighter, he does whatever it takes to win. He exploits weak points quickly and cripples strong points when the chance is presented. He follows orders well enough, and is held in some mild regard by his superiors. He is a quiet one, easy to over look and is oftenly. He is a bit of a day dreamer and can be seen staring at the stars quite often.

[B]Bio[/B]: Born in eastern Europe. His birth name was Martin Yargon, but little else is known about his human life, even by himself. He was turned at the age of 22 by a vampiress who called herself Saphiel. She was a mentor to him in his early days, teaching him the ways of the dark dwellers and how to stay alive in this new shadow world. She taught him of his inner strenght and how he was to use it. Then on the eve of his hundred year anniversay of turning she disappeared and he has never seen her since. Though he was close to her, he never sought after her and simply excepted her leaving. The year following was the longest and lonliest he had ever experienced. In the year that followed he remembered the name of a clan for his kind once mentioned by Saphiel. She said she had recieved her name from them. Why she only spoke of them once or didn't travel with them now was unclear, as she spoke little of herself. Martin sought this clan out, in desperate need for companionship in this solitary world of darkness. They called themselves the Myrkur Aniol and he pleaded to joined there ranks. He was accepted and was given a the name for the angel of thunder, Ramiel. As years passed he seemed to progress slowly, though he had been with them for years he seemed to be gaining neither notice or favor with the leaders of the clan, despite his power and work. This is probably because of his quiet nature, he never draws attention to himself nor does he request it and so his accomplishments often go over looked. He has always lived as such and has begun to forget his life before the darkness.

[B]Writing Sample[/B]: [I] (Stage setting)[/I]The night before Saphiels disappearance. A night under the stars.

"Martin." A soft voice called in the cool night air. A young man could be seen siting on the banks of a river that glissend in the moon light. he had his knees hugged to his chest as he gazed blankly at the sky above him.

The voice called again, in a much more demanding tone "Martin!" The man quickly snapped to attention again and scanned the area around him. The voice spoke again "you should n't allow yourself to become so wrapped in your thoughts. It fould be the death of you." As the voice rang in the shadows, a slender form appeared from the trees as it walked slowly toward the young man sitting on the banks of the river. It was that of a beautiful woman in a black silk dress. Her skin was as pale as the moon and her eyes were as blue as the crystal water that ran by. She moved with great poise and her scent was intoxicating. She appeared to be around teh ages of 20 to 25

The young man nodded "I'll take heed of that." The young man said in a soft, respectful tone as the woman came and took her seat next to him and gazed to teh quickly running water. She seemed locked in a false happiness. She seemed to be hollow on the inside, with her smile that incurred tears to witness.

The young man turned to her "Why?"

The woman looked to him with her hurtful smile on her face "Why what?"

The man sighed "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but why did you choose to turn me and not just kill me?"

The woman gave a light chuckle, this bore threw the heart as it felt even more painful than her hollow smile "You seemed right."

The young man stared at her still bewilderd "How did I seem right? You could have just killed me like any other, why make me one of your own?"

The woman turned her head to the water "Watching the water always calms me."

This further flusterd the young man "I still don't...."

His sentence cut short by her own "I saw you that day and I thought of this crystal water running like this. Your sight soothed me, so I couldn't bring myself to kill you."

The young man felt very unsure of how he should respond to such a thing "I... I'm not sure if I'm flaterd or..." He stopped short.

The woman rose and put her hands on his shoulders and looked down into his eyes "You have nothing to fear. I have no intention seeking anything further then what we have. And I know you feel the same. Soon we will both find what we need and then we will know where to go from there."

This sent chills down the spine of the young man. For some reason he was worried for her and afraid of her in this moment, though neither what she had said nor her tone should have incited either.

As she brought her hands off his shoulders and left to the darkness of the forest she called to him "Come Martin, the sun shall rise soon."


Young man nodded and followed her into the forest where they would return to there refuge for the day that was upon them. The next night he would rise to find himself alone. This is where his story starts.

[B]OCC[/B]:PM me to let me know if you liked it or for any changes you would like me to make.

[Orcus]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Renge Rassman
[B]Nickname:[/B] Helios [none of his clansmen call him by his original name]
[B]Age:[/B] 593
[B]Gender:[/B] Male
[B]Species:[/B] Vampire
[B]Clan:[/B] Gwyar

[B]Appearance:[/B] [See avatar and banner]
Helios? physical appearance betrays his age and strength. He stands at 6? 1?? and has a lean, muscular physical stature. His golden bangs hang over his crimson eyes. His usual attire consists of a sleeveless, black, leather jacket with crimson lining and buttons with a hood inside of it. A white sleeveless shirt is usually on underneath it and dark blue, baggy jeans cover his legs. A pair of goggles usually rest around his neck, and on his hands are black, fingerless gloves with pentagrams on the back of them.

[B]Weapons:[/B] Sole: A blade of great and virtuous strength. Possessing the power of fire, light, and darkness, it compliments his abilities tremendously. It is a straight, 42?? blade, and the hilt has a lacquered saya, golden with a silver triangular pattern.

[B]Powers:[/B]

[B][I]Will of the Elements-[/I][/B] Helios is unique in that he studies and controls one of the most abundant forces of energy that most vampires ignore or overlook, the elements. His extensive research of the four traditional elements-fire, water, wind, and earth- allows him to control the manmade element, steel, and the majestic elements, light and darkness. Recently he's discovered that the fire, darkness, and light energy that resides in him is much more powerful and proficient then his other elements. He can create objects from the light and shadows.

[I][B]Inner Sanction-[/B][/I] He also possesses the ability to levitate and has mastered using his chi. Before he could only focus it into his hands and launch small amounts at his opponents. Now he can summon large amounts at any given time.

[B][I]Mind Superiority-[/I][/B] His last ability is a strong hold over others, mostly humans. He needs only to talk with them for a period of time or look them directly in their eyes and they?re at his beck and call. Doesn?t work to the same extent on vampires.

[B]Personality:[/B] Helios is an enigma of sorts. His personality changes often, never for the worse, mind you, and his past is a complete mystery to everyone, including Helios, save Dracula. Helios tried once to pry information about his life from Dracula, but Dracula spoke of his life as such a misery that eventually Helios lost interest in the past of the boy named Renge.

He is often times cheery, optimistic and loves to socialize. The other members of his clan regard him with fondness, there is not a member of the clan who does not know of him or think of him like family. Dracula and Sumiyaka are the closest members of the Gwyar to Helios. He does not look down upon humans as a inferior race as the others of his clan do, as Dracula has told him that though they may be weaker, they were blessed with the gift of death, something a vampire could never embrace naturally.

Helios is a dedicated warrior in battle. He will see a fight through to the finish unless otherwise directed by his superiors. He shows no mercy to his opponents, unless he feels they deserve it, in which case, they usually do. He has been rumored to be able to peer into the souls of Vampire and Men and see the true nature of their being.

[B]Bio:[/B] All that Helios knows of his life is the one after ?rebirth?. After the wretched, miserable life of Renge Rassman ended and the life of Helios began. His former self apparently died at the age of 17, and Helios has kept this physical appearance ever since. When he awoke all those years ago Dracula took him in as his son, training him in the most extensive arts that he knew. Helios picked up on many, strengthening them in his own mannerism to make them unique to himself.

He has spent his life as Dracula?s dedicated warrior, willing to give his life for the man who had saved him. He fought many battles for the Gwyar against rival clans looking to prove themselves as the most powerful and destructive by brining the most ancient clan to their knees. Every attempt, however, proved futile. Many of the attacks were led by younger members of rival clans, and they knew not of the horrors that the Gwyar were.

The most ancient of the Gwyar, Dracula, Lord Orlok, and even Caine himself were present in every battle, and their display of strength was astounding. Their rue forms were different from other vampires, and were quite fearsome to the enemy and even newer members of the Gwyar. Helios was always in awe when he beheld the strength of the elders of the clan. He himself, though a powerful warrior and much feared by vampires and humans alike paled in comparison to them.

When Kuroichi and the Krilat Zmaj first came into power, Helios had thought of the as nothing. Their leader was barely older than himself, and he couldn?t possibly pose a threat to the older, more experienced clans. He disregarded the new clan for many months, but eventually he was forced to acknowledge their presence when members of the Gwyar left to join in Kuroichi?s crusade. When Kuroichi finally took hold of all of Asia, Helios was stunned.

At the same time, however, he was excited. If such a man existed as to be able to convince members of the Gwyar to turn against Caine and Dracula, he must be quite a powerful Vampire warrior. Helios has fought many battle against the Krilat Zmaj, some actually being battles against men and women he revered as family, and he was amazed to find that they were all much more powerful than they had been not but a few months ago. Helios now lusts to fight against Kuroichi himself to get a taste of the fiends power.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] The moon hung heavy in the night sky. Rain poured heavily onto the rooftops around a young man as he walked down the street, hood drawn over his head. His bare arms were drenched, but he wasn?t cold. He kept his head low and stared at he ground as he walked. He was going to have to fight a break off sanction of the Mirichai who were being causing trouble for the vampires who live in America. The young man was found of America himself, but yearned to return home to Dracula and Sumiyaka. He stopped walking and stared ahead to the building in front of him. He had reached his destination.

The Mirichai were far from inconspicuous with their armed guards on post. Each one held a machine gun in his hands, though of what type Helios could not determine in the darkness. He slid up to the two guards slowly, and they both quickly raised their guns to him. Helios brought down his hood and the two Mirichai tensed.

[B]?A Vampire, eh? You?re obviously not of our clan so what business do you have here??[/B] Helios spoke calmly, though he had already decided that he would finish these two off violently.

[B]?I have business with your?General. I need to speak with him, as it is a matter of clan affairs, something neither of you would understand.?[/B] One vampire swung the back end of his gun at Helios, who caught it effortlessly. Helios tore off the man?s arms and tossed it into the street.

[B]?Now, now. Don?t go falling to pieces on my account.?[/B] The whole vampire raised his gun and began firing at Helios. Helios grabbed the closest Vampire and used him as a shield, then pushed him into the testy one. When they fell to the ground Helios walked over and tore off both of their heads, flinging them into the alleyway. He leaned over and licked up the blood spilt. He stood up, cracked his neck, and walked inside.

[I]5 minutes later?[/I]

[B]?Ooof!?[/B] A fat Vampire landed on his backside on the ground. Helios stood over him, his blade drawn. The room behind him was bathed in blood, dead bodies lined the floor, and the bullet holes were scattered over the walls. Helios grinned and put his leg up on the chair closest to him, cleaning the blade on a dead Mirichai?s clothing. The fat Vampire pleaded for his life, hoping it would distract Helios long enough for him to reach the gun behind him. Helios played along. The man scream frantically at him.

[B]?Please! Please! Spare me! I meant no harm by what I have done. I was merely trying to expand the territory of my clan! You would do the same if you hade the chance, wouldn?t you? Wouldn?t you!?!?[/B] Helios shrugged and looked over his blade as he finished cleaning it. The snivelling man was disgusting him, but he was more bothered that his blade was tainted with Mirichai blood.

[B]?You slaughtered many innocents. People and Vampire alike who had nothing to do with your escapade. I would not do the same if put in your position. And for the treason done by you---?[/B] The fat Mirichai finally reached the machine gun and swung it at Helios, firng like a madman. He emptied the whole round in a blind frenzy. When he finished, he smiled at the empty seat where Helios had been. His smile turned into a look of pure fear, however, when hot air breathed down onto his neck and Helios? voice spoke into his ear.

[B]?---You will die.?[/B] The Mirichai?s body was cut cleanly in half, and his blood splattered over the walls, the desk, and Helios. He frowned and looked at his blade. He sighed heavily, grabbed the dead fat man? shirt and wiped his blade off. He spoke absentmindedly to himself.

[B]?God dammt. Dirty again??[/B]

[B]Other:[/B] Helios is very loyal to those he cares for, and is also very sympathetic. If his sympathy I taken advantage of, however, he will not hesitate to make mince meat out of you.

[B][CENTER]+++++[/CENTER][/B]

[B]OOC:[/B] I hope eveything is in order, ULX. Glad to see that you decided to do this again, this was definitelty my all time favorite RP. ^_^[/SIZE]

[Veritas]

[size=1][color=darkred][b]Name:[/b] Lucifer Marquis[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred][b]Nickname:[/b] Most commonly called Crucefix (Crux for short), although he is also known as Dark Cross, for one of his attacks, and Darkhand in reference to his arm.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred][b]Age:[/b] 713
[b]Gender:[/b] Male
[b]Species:[/b] Vampire[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred][b]Clan:[/b] Ijuut
[b]Appearance:[/b] See attachment. He stands at about 6'1" and weighs in at 154 lbs. The back of his coat, bears a large black cross and he dawns a black glove for his left hand. He has the image of a cross burned into his chest, as well as on his hands, though the left being almost undistiguisable. His left arm is pitch black from a ritualistic practice of placing ones limbs into sunlight, to gain immunity.
[b]Weapons:[/b] A Rapier that has been blessed in holy water the phrase "Mors Certa, Hora Uncerta" is engraved into the blade, two Khukris that have pitch black crosses imbuned in the blades. As a testament to his clan he also uses a cross, and a few vials of holy water.
[b]Powers:[/b] Lucifer's powers stem from spiritual energy, as the Ijuuj call it. Though it is commonly known as Chi.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred]Dark Cross: Crux's most infamous attack, build up a surge of energy within his body, releasing it through one of the crosses on his hands. The blast itself is black though it glows white. It maintains the form of a crucefix, burning its way through enemies. The shape renders all but the Ijuuj, human and most willfull Vampires weak making it hard to dodge or block.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred]Light of Sol: Creates a build up of energy within his body, before releasing it out as imitation sun light. The light, is able to temporaly blind humans and vampires alike, as well as giving the latter a small degree of burns.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred]Blood Sacrament: Cuts a cross into a part of his body, blessing his blood so that it has the same effect as holy water.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred]Exile Flare: He manipulates the blackened tissue of his left arm, making it turn to a glowing silver. While it glows his arm is unbreakable as well as molten hot. This drains his spiritual energy fast to maintain over long periods.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred][/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred]He also has become immune to sunlight, through ritualistic exposures to light. He has shown slight ability to manipulate shadows though, only to the extent to dim a room.[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=darkred][b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Bio:[/b] Because many of the characters might well have long histories, it might be best to have your history laid out for you and others to read. Doesn't have to be too terribly long, but there should be some info there.
[b]Writing Sample:[/b] A few (say, 5) paragraphs of in-character writing, just to see how good you are.
[b]Other:[/b][/color][/size]
[b][size=1][color=darkred][/color][/size][/b]
[b][size=1][color=darkred]OOC:I am just going to post this for now, I'll finish the rest tomorrow. I just wanted to get what I had up, just in case.[/color][/size][/b]

[Zen]

[color=sienna][size=1]

I added onto my sign up for Lord Orlok with an "Other" section. I do hope it does not interrupt or disturb the story flow, I just thought it would be an interesting twist to add to the story. (Maybe his current wife his killed or kidnapped maybe.)

Anyways, it's up there.

- Mugen[/color][/size]

[Juke Box Hero]

[u][b]Name[/u][/b]: Jeulnelune, Wind Lord

[u][b]Nickname[/u][/b]: Wolfram, Slayer of Light, the Foreigner

[u][b]Age[/u][/b]: 2000

[u][b]Gender[/u][/b]: Male

[u][b]Species[/u][/b]: Ancient Vampire

[u][b]Clan[/u][/b]: Gwyar

[u][b]Appearance[/b][/u]:

At 6'4", the Wind Lord's 250lbs give him a slim appearance. Each and every one of those 250lbs is pure muscle, translating into a built, athletic, and powerful frame. His features are very handsome and chiseled, many human women find him attractive both sexually and romantically. Blazing green eyes offset his pale skin, and a cascade of nearly black brown hair falls nearly behind his knees. Juel always ties his hair back with a string of engraved black pearls.

His limbs are supple and hold vast power. He moves with the flow of a dancer, with the grace and poignancy of the wind itself. Even his sudden movements look choreographed so great is their precision and efficiency. His voice is a low baritone, intimating musicality, but holding a raw and cutting edge. It is said that he is among the most inspirational speakers of all time.

[b][u]Weapons[/b][/u]: The Wolfram has studied the art of Edo Yagyu Shinkage for four hundred years, and other sword styles before that. A true master of the blade, Jeulnelune is comfortable with any bladed weapon, although these days he prefers his Muramasa crafted katana, the vorpal

[b]Catastrophe[/b]: Unremarkable in all aspects, although humanity's finest attempt at swordcraft, the Catastrophe possesses no magical or spiritual powers beyond its ability to resist being destroyed by supernatual means. The blade is nearly nine feet long, but weighs a mere thirteen ounces. Crafted of steel made with meteoric iron, it is finely tempered and perfectly balanced, taking the phrase "razor sharp" to the next level. The tsuba is ancient granite, so polished that the square surface reflects a clear mirror image back at one who gazes into it. Tsuka wrapped in the skin of the enigmatic goblin sharks.

[u][b]Powers[/b][/u]: Although the master of many winds, these five fit the Lord of Wind's taste the most:

[b]Typhoon[/b]: Jeulnelune summons to his control the Kami-Kaze, the Divine Winds, unleashing furious wrath upon those fool enough to oppose a greater vampire. If around bodies of water, the he may direct the Kami-Kaze through the water, gaining extra punch.

[b]Boreas[/b]: He calls upon the Demons of the North Wind for a blast of frigid, piercing winds. Beyond the physical effects of the Boreas, the ice sharp air numbs the mind, slowing reaction time in its victims. By expending great amounts of energy, he can summon a deadly winter storm, although the might of this storm is great indeed, Jeulnelune requires rest in his palace before regaining full might.

[b]Sirocco[/b]: The Demons of the Desert Wind send to their Lord a mass of incredibly hot, stagnant air. Jeulnelune wills the mass of boiling oxygen where he wants it, creating a field of suffocation, pain, and flame to stifle and damage all within.

[b]Silano Nafhat[/b]: The poison wind of Earth's mires, bogs, and swamps blows rank and faetor against his foes. The poison winds can kill mortals in but a short time, as well as severely reduce a weaker vampire's skills and health. An ancient or greater vampire loses only one thing from the Silano Nafhat: Short term memory (between five minutes and one hour).

[b]Zephyr[/b]: The Demons of the West Wind give to the Wolfram lift into the high and fast currents of wind, far above the ground of mortals and the means to travel there for extended periods of time. Through Zephyr, Jeulnelune can cross the globe, bringing his dark presence quickly according to his purposes.

[b][u]Personality[/b][/u]: Grave, patient, and demanding, Jeulnelune knows his place and he knows yours. He posesses an easy charm, coupled with beautiful unforced manners that Emily Prost would be proud of. Incredibly intelligent, arrogant to a certain point, and wise, Jeulnelune reminds one of Dr. Hannibal Lecter's personality slightly. He is very mature, highly worldly, and deeply sophisticated, however he does not much care for the politics of his brethren. He maintains his lone wolf status, but has deep respect and reverance for his clan, the Gwyar. Nothing makes him uncomfortable, not even an Archangel because of his utter confindence in his skill and experience.

[b][u]Bio[/b][/u]:

Jeulnelune is the youngest of the generation that produced legends such as Vlad Dracula, Le Stat, and Lord Orlok. He never achieved the notoriety of his brethren because of his distaste for the politics of the complex vampire societies, and his natural predisposition to be alone (Thus the nickname, Foreigner).

In the very beginning of his "life", Jeulnelune was merely a vampire, destined for glory because of his generation, yet unremarkable aside from bloodline. However, when the demon god of wind was slain by an archangel, the essence of the wind god's soul was captured in a crystal vial. During his many wanderings, Jeul found that vial in a palace of ice and water deep in the arctic circle. He opened the vial, and the wind god's essence bound itself to his vampiric soul. Hence, Jeulnelune became Wind Lord, and secured his status as an Elder Vampire.

In the arctic palace that he took possession of, Jeul found the tomb of Pandora and oftentimes entered it, observing her still form, sleeping in death. Her hands gripping so tightly a small black box. Many times he tried to remove the box from her grip, but time and experimentation proved to him that no force known to the Earth or below the Earth would budge it. That said, he named his palace Pandora's Song for the hymn she occasionally whispers in her dark tomb.

For hundreds of years Jeul removed himself from vampire society, training endlessly his blade technique, mastering the transferred power of the wind god, and learning much from his Daguerreo, a vast collection of ancient tomes and scrolls. He was satisfied with that secluded life, maintaining correspondance and the rare visit only with Vlad Dracula himself.

In 1200 AD, when the endless war between Heaven and Hell threatened to break forth into the world of mortals, and thus put the entire existance of vampires at risk, Jeulnelune responded to Dracula's summons, putting forth his entire might and effort in their successful attempt at preventing disaster. He earned the title "Slayer of Light" for defeating a host of cherubim in combat, and secured legend status in the lore of vampires forever.

After the war, he returned to Pandora's Song, again only communicating with Vlad Dracula. In recent years, he has ventured forth into the world with increasing frequency, sensing that all is not right. He is both fascinated and disturbed by the new clan, especially due to the Gwyar defections. The Wind Lord would and may "die" for the cause of the Gwyar, and holds great fury for the traitors.

Most concerning to him of all is the summons from Dracula, the first such summons in 800 years sent to Pandora's Song... He smells war on the horizon, and stands ready to fight to the last vampire. Jeulnelune, the Foreigner, Slayer of Light, Wind Lord among Elder Vampires holds tight, drinks deep, and is ready for w a r.

[u][b]Writing Sample[/u][/b]: This has nothing to do with the story and is totally out of context, meant merely to showcase myself and Jeulnelune, Wind Lord in action:

[i]

[b] I have not eaten in many days...[/b] Jeulnelune allowed his mind to wander. [b]What is this? A human woman... [/b] His senses told him that a woman was alone in a house directly below his lazy flight. Wordlessly he descended, gracefully landing on her roof top.

Transforming into mist, Jeul lazed down her chimney, rematerializing in a poorly decorated livingroom. He sneered at the Wal-Mart furnature in disgust, picking his way toward the pulse of her heart.

Boom. Step. Beat. Step.

As the Wolfram approached its prey, the woman's heart subconsciously worked faster and faster. He could nearly dance to the beat, smelling the perspiration on her sleeping form.

The bedroom door. Jeulnelune opened the door silently, entered, and shut it again in the blink of an eye. She was close to waking, too close. He liked his victims to sleep the entire time.

His hand waved slightly, and a calming wind from the Carribbean settled around the woman, and she went back into deep sleep. Sexually charged dreams entered he sleep the second his hands touched the flesh of her cheek. She moaned slightly, drawing off slowly to the sound, ending in a purr.

[b]Resist her flesh. She is merely sustenance.. The shape of her leg as it turns inward at the top.. mm.. Focus, Wolfram. This flesh is not up to your standards.[/b]

She breathed heavily as he kissed her sleeping lips, the moaning more audible now. His fangs became feral, and her scraped them gently along her skin as he trailed tneder, skilled kisses down her neck. Her body writhed slightly, she panted and the sheets about her waste began to get wet.

As Jeul's fangs pieced her neck, she climaxed. With each drop of blood her drained from her into him, her orgasm was sustained that much longer. Again and again he drained her vains, again and again she reached her peak- the pleasure maxed out, her senses overloaded. So greatly did he enjoy the spectacle he created on a whim, that he drained her body dry, ending both her life and her unlife before it even began.

The Slayer of Light laughed. He laughed long and hard, not a light, happy sort of laugh, but a darkly satisfied laugh full of crescendo and very deep. His laughed quickly subsided, but even as he flew into the night skies, Jeulnelune emitted a low chuckle. [/i]

[u][b]Other[/u][/b]: He is feral, and is closely associated with the Wolf. The Wind Lord has many servants, but the principal servants of Jeul are Lilly and Rose, twin succubii, not physically powerful, but very beguiling and crafty.

[Guest equilitra]

[b]Name[/b]

Sergio Guglielmo

[b]Nickname[/b]

Keeper of the Catacombs

[b]Age[/b]

991

[b]Gender[/b]

Male

[b]Species[/b]

Vampire

[b]Clan[/b]

Ijuuj

[b]Appearance[/b]

[img]http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y112/FireflyJesus/price.jpg[/img]

[b]Weapons[/b]

• Maledeta: A Sacrificial Kris; Forged with fire fueled by Chrism Oil and cooled in Holy Water. Handle of White Ivory, blade acid etched with Christian Symbols.
• A Shard of the Cross of Christ, sharpened into a Stake

[b]Powers[/b]

• Blood Thirst
  This power stems mainly from Sergio?s experience with vampires over the years. Using a talented and charismatic tongue, Sergio can cause any vampire to which he is speaking to thirst uncontrollably for human hemoglobin. Grouped along with this speech-based talent is a sense of want and desire which is felt by those in his presence. For humans, this turns into a lust for what they want most; money, sex, power, et al. For vampires, this translates into a want for feeding.
• Link
  One of the only legitimate powers of Sergio is the Link ability. In or out of combat, Sergio links his body and mind to that of another person or persons. The power can link up to three (including Sergio) vampires, and up to 6 or so humans. While linked, any damage done to Sergio is inflicted twice as worse to the person he is linked with, and any damage done to the person he is linked with is inflicted three times as worse to Sergio. This is a one-shot deal, as well, so there is no infinite looping of the damage. This effect works onto Death, whereas, when one of those linked is killed, it shakes every muscle within Sergio?s body with pain and brings him to his knees in a delicious symphony of agony and torment. The power is subtle, and there is no real way to know who is linked unless it is demonstrated. Those linked must be within a reasonable sight/auditory range, and, do not leave the link by distance, as long as Sergio maintains the link with his semi-conscious mind.
• Flight
  Utilizing his unholy power, Sergio is able to float over the land and speed himself while hoovering. This allows for incredibly fast and quiet travel; a talent which is extremely useful to a man who dislikes direct combat.

[b]Personality[/b]

Sergio is a very definite masochist, as well as a very cruel sadist. He enjoys nothing more than causing pain and suffering to himself and those around him; especially if it?s to both at once. This love of agony, over the period of 400 or so years, developed into his Link ability. He so loved the torment he felt and caused, that he developed a sense and ability which allowed him to experience an enhanced version of the pain felt by others, and to broadcast this experience to others.

Aside from his love of suffering, the only feelings which Sergio knows are hate, greed, and malice towards all living things. He is not ignorant to the other feelings on the emotional spectrum; but he does not know them intimately. Despite this, he is rather talented at reading others and manipulating them to his will; a skill picked up by years of service to the church in and out of the crusades.

Aside from these characteristics, Sergio was a rather devious coward, who would do whatever he could to escape a fight, up until his turning to a Vampire. He now stands his ground when confronted with a battle and does his upmost to complete tasks with which he is assigned. Partly because he enjoys the pain that is delivered, partly because having a goal gives some meaning to his otherwise frivilous life.

[b]Bio[/b]

In the years around the start of the Crusades, Sergio was about 86 years old. He was, at the time, a chaplain to the Knight?s Templar. He was, at this point, a very elderly man, who had spent a good deal of his time in the Church and in service to god. He wasn?t, at any point during his time as a priest, content. He instead found his niche in a darker side of the Catholic Tradition, namely demonology. It was this darker side of the Church that would eventually aide in bringing about an end to the Templar. His own end as a mortal would come sooner, on the battle fields, far from the front.

As a chaplain for the Knights, it was Sergio?s job to administer the sacraments to his Knight and his fellow servants. However, Sergio found this most difficult, as his Knight, a rather brutal fellow by the name of Giovanni, would have nothing for the greater glory of God once his sword tasted blood. Giovanni would, however, acquire many riches for the Templar, partly out of his own greed, partly because of his desire for greater power within the Templar order.

One day, a Muslim raid on Giovanni?s camp while the Knight was out pillaging, forced Sergio into hiding in a cave to escape slaughter at the horde?s hands. Inside this cave, a rather unsettling creature attacked Sergio. As the beast fed on Sergio, Giovanni returned from his raid to find his camp being ransacked. He and his squires caught the Muslims by surprise and slaughtered the lot of them, an activity at which he had a great deal of practice. It was at this point that the creature ceased his feeding, with Sergio still alive.

This, of course, converted a priest and servant of the lord into the undead, a plague. Giovanni, upon finding that his chaplain was gone, went out looking for him. It was that night, after the sun had set, that Giovanni came upon the cave where Sergio was lurking. The vampire who had taken the holy man as a slave was slain by Giovanni on his way out of the cave to search for feeding victims. A quick stab to the heart quickly dispatched the unholy beast and entered the cave looking for his chaplain. It was in here where he found Sergio.

Looking as normal, Sergio attested to his own well-being, and was escorted from the cave by Giovanni and his squires. That night, Sergio fled from his camp. Using his newly attained ability to float quickly over the hot sands, Sergio made record time in coming up upon a city before the dawn of day. Being a demonologist, he knew what he was, and what his limitations were. He concealed himself within the walls of the city?s graveyard, hiding inside of a mausoleum for the span of the day. When the sun had again gone down, Sergio fed upon one of the citizens, and continued on to the next city. This process continued until Sergio was finally in Rome.

He took up residence within the Catacombs, this being the only place he could conceal himself from the sunlight and work throughout the day. It was peculiar for him, however, as he had no aversion to the Christian symbols on the walls, or the bones of the martyrs with which he was surrounded. He was, for all intents, oblivious to the dangers of his surroundings; which should have killed any unholy beast of the night.

Over the years, Sergio learned more and more about his own powers and abilities, and more about the world in which he lived. It was around the year 1600 when Sergio forged Maledeta. Around this time was when Sergio, who had taken it upon himself to migrate among the catacombs, found the body of Giovanni. Taking the sword of his knight, he shattered it. He created a fire of the tattered remnants of garments worn by the martyrs and of chrism oil he had stolen from the Vatican. In this fire, he heated the blade, and forged it into a 4 turned Kris. The dagger was cooled within Holy Water, when it was molded. An ivory handle was later applied, and the blade was engraved with powerful symbols of the divine, etched into the very steel with acid. It was this blade which he first used to begin his practice of masochism.

Being trapped, spiritually, between Heaven and Hell, Sergio was constantly surrounded by symbols and relics which should have caused him extreme pain. But they didn?t. He did, however, desire them too. He wished he could feel the dark embrace of his corrupted body purged with the holy power of his surroundings. But alas, it never occurred, which lead to Sergio?s first episodes of self mutilation. This process became more and more extreme as the time passed until it peaked when Sergio built his sanctuary.

Deep within the catacombs was a burial area never utilized, which Sergio took as his own. Within the area, he placed his bed; a black oak coffin with a burgundy colored silk lining. In this coffin, he drilled three holes; one above where each of his wrists would go, and one on his side, near the ribs. He dragged his coffin into an area where, during the day, there was a small beam of light. While Sergio slept, his skin was burned by the small amounts of ultraviolet light which crept through the holes in his coffin. As a result, he has a scar on his forehead, on each hand, and in his side. His burns designed to correspond with the death marks of his former lord, Jesus Christ.

Over time, Sergio reverted back to his love of the old days, of the pillaging done by the Templar. Having risen rather high at the side of Giovanni early in the days of the crusade, Sergio knew a great deal about where the Templar concealed their great wealth. As luck would have it, he found an untouched cache of pillaged goods, which he kept as his own stockpile. He used these goods in barter and payment for relics, which he had a rather large growing collection of; the relics being kept either in his burial chamber, or on his person.

During his nocturnal travels about the catacombs of Italy, Sergio came upon a piece of the True Cross which was interred with one of the martyrs. He took this small shard of wood and sharpened it into a steak, thinking to use it upon himself at some point in time. He keeps it with him, just incase he would ever need to ensure his own demise. Along with his Kris, these are the only two real ?weapons? carried; though, at any time, Sergio is known to carry a source of light (like a lantern or flashlight), a flask of Holy Water, any manner of Christian relics, and a small tome.

One day, as night was just about to begin, Sergio heard rustlings about his room. He awoke to find two or three Vampires in his midst. They were looking to pillage his artifacts when Sergio arose from his coffin, which was in direct sunlight, drew Maledeta, and questioned them.

They were members of a clan of vampires, the Ijuuj. They were concerned with the acquisition of religious relics, and were scouring the underground graveyards for them. Sergio explained his life and his work to these vampires; and they explained that they would have checked in the coffin, but it was rather inaccessible when they began plundering Sergio?s vault. It was that night that Sergio was inducted into the Ijuuj and struck a deal, allowing him and him alone to be in charge of the catacombs and to have all scouring expeditions done by the Ijuuj cleared and planned by him. The Ijuuj were all too pleased at this, because they had little knowledge of much of the catacombs that were not directly connected to their main church.

Sergio rose quickly in the ranks, and was taught much about the world of Vampire clans; and two hundred years later when the great war of the blood began, Sergio was only too pleased to lend his growing collection of relics and his knowledge of the deep, dark places of the world where vampires dare not tread to further their cause.

[b]Writing Sample[/b]

The burning on Sergio?s wrists and side started to weaken. He could tell it was almost time to wake, to scour, and to feed. The Ijuuj had requested that Sergio take around a new vampire in the clan who was interested in the fields of reliquary of the ancient martyrs of the church. This new vampire, Sal Anthony, was a deacon in the church who was turned early last year. Having sworn his blood oath to the Ijuuj, he was quickly finding out the powers that the sect had over other vampires. It was a giant advantage to carry religious artifacts to use against their enemies, to have places where they could conceal their treasures without fear of theft from non Ijuuj Vampires. But, moreover, it was a great advantage for feeding.

?Master Guglielmo, are you awake??

Sergio stirred in his coffin. The burning was gone now. It was night. He pushed open his coffin lid and floated himself upright. He hovered in front of Anthony for a moment, before stepping down.

?Yes, young one. Are you prepared??

Anthony knelt before his teacher.

?Yes, Master.?

?Arise, my boy. We have much work to accomplish tonight.?

Anthony rose, and Sergio grabbed his shirt off his shelf, buttoning it up. He walked out of his chamber and into the catacombs, followed closely by Anthony. The two traveled about the catacombs for what seemed to be most of the night, Sergio pointing out little nuances of the catacombs, describing the meanings of the various runes carved into the walls, naming some of the more famous and infamous martyrs whose bones were committed to the small shelves in the stone tunnels for all of eternity. Anthony was picking through some of the bones of a crusader, and came across a small crucifix.

?Pick it up, boy. And keep it close.?

?What for, Master??

?It is feared terribly by other vampires. We fear it not, however. We love it, we can use it. Use it for ourselves, or against others.?

?That sounds a great advantage, Master.?

?Quite.?

The two Ijuuj continued their rounds of the Catacombs, picking up small relics ranging from small finger bones to tattered remains of scrolls and parchments. The collection task was so consuming, Sergio realized it was time for feeding 10 minutes late. The two moved as fast as they could to the side passage that lead to a small church where devout worshipers came early in the morning to pray before their day began. This was Sergio?s buffet. The two snuck from the tunnels into the sub-basement, then into the primary basement, and finally through a concealed passageway into the confessionals. There, behind the walls, they waited.

As the first patron of the church finished confessing their sins to the father and the two demons behind the paneling, Sergio pushed aside the false door and snatched the middle aged woman into the walls, timing it with the closing of the portal separating the devout from the sinners. Sergio and Anthony took their prisoner back into the basement, into the tunnels, and back to a small area of the catacombs which Sergio used as his sacrificial area.

He had Anthony tie up the woman as Sergio prepared the sacrificial ceremony. He readied Maledeta as Anthony stripped the prisoner, who was chained down to the stone pedestal. He was already linked with her, and demonstrated his powers to the young Anthony. He cut his own arm, as Anthony watched in amazement when the woman?s arm, without being touched, began to tear and bleed. Sergio was enjoying every moment of the pain, and when it was over, he watched as Anthony licked up some of the blood from the victim?s oozing wound. Sergio removed his shirt and stabbed himself in the stomach. The woman doubled over as much as she could, screaming into the cold, dark, lifeless tunnels, blood beginning to ooze from her stomach.

Sergio ceased injuring himself and proceeded to stab and slice at his victim, giving her a regular dose of the pain she should be feeling, which was substantial, at the same time he was injuring himself three times as worse. When Sergio had his fill of ecstatic pain, he drove his knife deep into the girl?s chest and bit into her, draining her injured body of enough blood to sustain him. When he was done, he retrieved his blade, and allowed Anthony to take his fill. When he was done, he had his apprentice unchain the body and kick it into the nearby acid bath. While Sergio did enjoy the scent of rotting and decaying human flesh, he just didn?t have the room to keep around every one of his victims.

?That?s it for me, Anthony. The sun will return soon, and I must return to my slumber before I am unable to enter my coffin. You will continue to scour these tunnels for the day, and show me what you have found when I awake this night.?

Anthony bowed before Sergio, who turned and, floating, rushed off to his chamber to enter his coffin and begin his daily slumber.