Prologue
Two of Kain's lieutenants stood against the rim of the Abyss. The air felt heavy and tasted of rain and salt, a combination that danced gleefully upon one's palette. A devious, even somewhat curious grin crept across the two faces as they dragged their mangled brother before the vortex, too weak and helpless to even hold his own head. The thrill of something new was a sense long forgotten between the vampires. Immortality can become rather…lethargic at times.
Kain knelt before the precipice, examining the swirling waters below. This place was where treasonous fools and weaklings were sentenced. Raziel, the condemned, was Kain's first born lieutenant and held court over one of six vampire legions: the Razielim. Each of Kain's six sons had their own unique clan, all of whom are direct descendants of their commanding lieutenant. As a vampire matured, their bodies adapted to a vessel beyond that of man. They became more godlike in appearance, their bodies becoming a true personification of the Dark Gift they possessed. Raziel, the vampire who now lay beaten and bloody, was to be executed for having the audacity to surpass his Lord and growing bat-like wings. Soon, the Razielim would follow their sire's evolution.
The touch of water was like acid to a vampire; burning, twisting, melting the flesh clear of the bone as if it were made of ice. The smell of salt in the waters was met with a brooding scowl. Kain stood and turned, offering no glance towards his lieutenants. Instead, he began to walk away, almost as if he were uninterested in the execution of a subject. After taking several steps, Kain froze. Without nary a final glance at the condemned, Kain merely turned his head so that he might be heard more clearly.
"…Cast him in."
Exited at the prospect of killing who they once considered kin, the malicious smirk that plastered both Dumah and Turel's faces returned. Together, they lifted the demented Raziel to his feet so that he might see where his fate lay. Below was the Abyss, tearing at itself; hungry for anything to ravage. Raziel's eyes widened, a meek groan escaped his throat. Before he could muster a cry of mercy, his brothers heaved Raziel over the brink. Raziel's torn body rag dolled through the air, twisting and contorting on a whim. His wings, now no more than boneless flaps of skin, dangled behind him, as if in a desperate attempt to flee the body. No such freedom was had. Raziel plunged into Hell.
Kain motioned for the two to follow. "Go back to the Sanctuary and instruct the other lieutenants to purge any and all who belong to the Razielim. His solitary death does not atone for his treachery, and his clan is the ones who will pay for his transgressions. Slaughter, maim, torture, do whatever you wish to them; they are no longer of my Kingdom. They are now no more your kin then the human cattle, do you understand Turel? Dumah?" The two nodded hastily, their faces bore no hint of remorse. "Good. Then go." Kain instructed, taking his leave.