Kain sat on his throne, a throne built around the base of the tallest
of the ruined Pillars of Nosgoth, the Pillar of Balance. The Balance
Pillar had been Kain's own, tied to his heart by bonds which even
his untimely death could not break, and upon his dark rebirth his
bond was strengthened further as he took his first steps toward his
inevitable destiny.
And now he sat at the very heart of the Pillars he had damned that
fateful day so many centuries ago, surrounded by those who once
hunted his kind to the precipice of extinction and had now become the
captains that led the species in their bloody war with humanity.
Kain was bizarre to look at, yet oddly beautiful in his own right.
His skin had long ago shed and given way to a layer of large scales
that covered the undead Emperor from head to foot. The scales were of
a dark, mottled brown streaked with black. His eyebrow ridge had
slanted upwards, reaching slightly above the top of his head. The
ridges, coupled with his large pointed ears, formed what appeared to
be a natural crown forged of Kain's own being. His hands and feet
had also changed, becoming more like those the ancient Vampire
Vorador had possessed. The digits of his hand joined together and his
thumb had thickened creating three thick fingers made entirely of an
oddly hard substance. Similarly his toes had joined, creating two
cloven feet, looking oddly like hooves, also formed of the same hard
material. His long, white hair was enclosed towards it's end in a
gold circlet.
Leaning against the right side of his throne was Kain's imposing
weapon – the Soul Reaver. Legends told the blade was forged
millennium ago, at the birth of the world, and wielded by the old,
Dark Gods as they warred with those of Light. The Dark Gods had lost
the battle, but in their last desperate attack they had cast the
blade down into Nosgoth where it had pierced the heart of a young
boy. The Reaver had drained the boy's soul and in so doing had
created the first Vampire.
Now Kain's right hand dropped to the hilt of his blade, softly
caressing the handle as though he was preparing to throw it without
warning at the figure before him.
The old human was crouched on one knee. He was the leader of the
priesthood that had formed when Kain's armies had secured the
Pillars. Humans were odd creatures, some worshipping their new rulers
while others fought.
"The people of Uschtenheim have begun moving south, and the lands of Provance and Meridian have retreated into the mountains in the south. Our spies among the populace report that many stonemasons have been moved there as well." He was silent for a moment, terrified of giving the news to his wrathful god. "They are building a fortress in the mountains, sire. A fortress that is defended by vampire hunters, and by the descendants of the Sarafan."
Kain took in the news with a sneer on his face. The last remnants of
the rebellious humans had banded together several times since Kain's
rule, often storming into the birthing grounds of fledglings during
the day and slaughtering them. In the silence that followed the report, there was the soft sound of
something wet and small hitting the beautiful floor.
An ear, grey and rotted, lay on the floor at the feet of the youngest
of the Vampiric chiefs – Melchiah.
Melchiah, the youngest of Kain's children, had received the
smallest portion of Kain's soul. It had transpired that the amount
he received was not sufficient to sustain his immortality. While his
soul was still strong, it was unable to bestow that strength on his
flesh and subsequently he was literally rotting away. He constantly
had to use the flesh of his victims to replace his own. An eye placed
in his empty socket, a hand sewn to the stump of his forearm... and
because of this his appearance was constantly changing. Currently, he
had a small patch of ginger hair on the side of his head. His left
eye was bloodshot, and his right was piercing green. His skin was
covered in stitches and patches of skin, none of which were the same
colour.
However, Melchiah was vain. He would only feed on those he considered
beautiful, male and female alike, and he would have them skinned and
patched to him. He saw himself as an amalgamation of the best of
humanity, despite the fact that he looked like a mad theologians
failed experiment.
His right hand shot up to the side of his face and he bowed forward in apology.
"Forgive me my lord. It has been several days since my last replenishment..."
Kain's eyes flickered slightly, betraying a deep compassion for the youngest of his children, but was quickly replaced by his usual arrogant glare.
"It has been an overly long meeting. We will adjourn for a while. I will summon you after you have... collected yourselves."
Each of his six sons moved before him and inclined their heads, the priest prostrated himself and crawled from the throne room. After he had gone and the doors had been sealed, Kain raised his thick forefinger and a young girl, no older than 13 years, ran forward and removed the discarded body part from the floor.
