…………………………………………………………………………………………………...
From the Monachiel Scriptures:
Spark of light
Scarred with stigma of sin
Come, step into our shadows
Taste the purity of our bodies
Renounce the snakes of falsehood
For we offer you a new path
To enlightement.
Sepher Amor
By the Dawnlight street in Meridian, rested an obese and pretentious building of the Vampire Hunters Guild. No longer prosperous, the Guild still hung to the tapestry –wrought glory of the old days and never wasted a chance of tearing at the remaining shreds of past riches and fame. The wind played with lost memories in the vast marble halls of the Guild Headquarters, weaving a thread of time into fading colors of Guild banners. Attempts at resurrections were made now and again, sometimes even rewarded with a mummified vampire head on a stake in the dusty trophy room.
Although decaying and declining, the Guild still held a power of its own, having some influence in the Royal court and being able to boast of a large number of Hunters.
These were scattered through all Nosgoth, each of them pursuing their own personal career as a celebrated local hero or a well trained mercenary. However, if summoned, they would constitute a small, well equipped and experienced army.
They were to be dealt with.
Without unnecessary disrespect…
Kain smirked as he listened to Raziel's report on the Guild matters. As Kain began to speak, his son lowered his head in respect and listened. He bowed and smiled faintly.
"So it shall be, my Lord."
****************************************************************************************************************************************************
" It was the Sunrise that saved us
Praise be to the holy rays of Sun
Pure are our intentions and prayers
May we be granted the final victory"
(Passage carved into stone over the Guild Entrance, an ancient Sarafan prayer)
There was Meridian Festival coming. The time of celebration, in memory of the city founding, which had happened in an obscure ancient past. The date was unimportant. The need for circensem was powerful enough to spawn various festivals thorough the year.
The Guild also celebrated. The famous Hunters from all the provinces of Nosgoth traveled far to reach Meridian and the Headquarters for a feast, to boast about their kills and adventures.
Dannhein was now a part of all this…A simple apprentice to the Guild, she felt safe under its protective wings, hidden from the prying eyes of her husband's agents. It wasn't a life of breathtaking adventure, but at least she was on her own. She kept her crossbow in good repair, and frequented Dock Quarter shadowy inns, spending time with their equally shadowy patrons. The fuss about the preparations reached her too, and to her surprise she also received an order to attend the main feast. Not as a guest, however, but as a guard.
Someone had to guard the famous inebriated bastards.
The Guild Hall was drowning in yellow candlelight…it was early evening and the guests were to arrive shortly. There were tables laden with food and drink, the walls were adorned with rich tapestries. Servants were busying themselves about the preparations.
The tall stained –glass windows seemed dead, receiving no light from outside and seemed vacant, glazed, as if blind.
The neglect of the years had been swept out by busy servants, and the building was waiting anxiously to be injected with a new dose of life.
*************************************************************************************************************************************************
The hunt. A twinge of excitement ran through his body every time the night opened before him.
Freedom and obsession.
The two opposites merged in the intoxicating ritual of driving the prey into madness of fear and then tasting that madness in its blood.
He moved away from another the fallen body, letting Turel drink, and looked around. They were surrounded by a lush, fragrant garden, with fruit trees blossoming in the warm air. He inhaled deeply, feeling the perfume of the night stir something in his soul. He felt a twinge of regret, something unnatural to his vampiric nature. Shrugging mentally, he approached the nearest tree and ripped a white flower from its branch. It rested in his palm, delicate petals seemed to shrink on themselves, away from his skin. One of the petals clung to his blood-stained skin and drunk the blood, passing the velvety crimson color onto the others. A bitter smile appeared on Raziel's lips and he let the flower fall onto the ground.
Raziel licked at the exposed skin, cleaning it of the last drops of blood. He felt the skin cool down under his tongue as the body in his arms slowly drifted into death.
He'd always found this process fascinating and relished in the moment. After the last convulsions lessened into slight, unsteady movements, the body calmed, relaxed. The boy's hand slid down his leg and rested on the cold marble. Raziel watched it, fascinated. The fingers curled up, stiffness was entering them, a shade of sickly pale painted the fingertips...
"Raziel." Turel's voice startled him. "Let's go."
**********************************************************************
The feast at the Guild Hall was indeed, impressive. The multitude of guests mingled in the hall, a steady murmur of converstaion hovering above them like a cloud. The hall was filled with the smells of wine, perfumes, silk clothes and steaming food.
Dannhein was standing at the entrance, still clad in her patched-up uniform and observed the guests- there were noblemen, Guild masters, common career hunters...All of them talking lively, their faces shining with perspiration in the warm, candle heated air. Her gaze shifted idly over the faces, her thoughts wandering idly. Suddenly she frowned and her gaze went back, searching for something in the crowd...
Yes, there he was...
Sitting at one of the tables was a young nobleman. His appearance was that of particular beauty, his fine features set in an expression of polite detachment, his lips twisted in a disdainful smirk He did not touch the food but was sipping from a finely crafted cup. He must have been a high-born nobleman, one of those independent spirits who sought adventure and excitement and did not much care for the family's reputation. She knew that kind allright...but this one was fascinating somehow...In the flickering candlelight, his features seemed to change subtly, sharpen and soften. She continued watching him, her eyes watering from trying to detect what it was that created this illusion about his face. Suddenly, as if called by her intense stare, he turned his head and gazed at her, straight into her eyes, and for a moment, as her heart skipped a beat, she thought he saw into her very soul. Fighting the urge to scream, she held her hand up to her mouth and moved behing the pillar she was stading near to, feeling somewhat ridiculous. Her imagination was playing tricks on her.
From that spot, she continued to watch him and she saw him look up to the rich tapestries on the walls and the tall stained-glass windows. Following his gaze, she fancied she saw darker shadows behind the dirty glass. The nobleman behaved as if he was expecting something to happen, but...
The very idea was ludicrous...She shook her head and then she saw him stand up and walk leisurely to the opposite corner of the Hall...What was it he was looking for ? A woman, or a friend ? She couldn't help wondering...
There was a short spell of silence, one that always comes at great gatherings and hangs there for a few seconds only to disperse in a new wave of converstation. But this silence lingered...somehow containing a hint of fear, as if the crowd had a sixth sense and knew that something terrible was approaching. The silence spread quickly to the whole of the building racing amdly through the corridors, like a strange eerie echo...
And then...
Five avalanches of thick, sharp glass shards poured in heavy torrents from above. They crashed mercilessly down, diving throught the air with a sickening noiseskewering throught flesh, conjuring up red sprays of blood. They impaled chests, arms, drove throught skulls and slithered down silently onto the floor, bloodstained.
Five shadowy figured detached from the darkness pouring through the gaping holes of windows and leapt down, gracefully. They descended like dark angels, with their talons outstrched. As the light swept up theor bodies, Dannhein saw what they were.
Screaming, she drew back, as far as she could, until her back touched the cold stone of the wall.
They moved faster than any human could, their muscled were far stronger than any animals'....they were vampires.
The nobleman she had observed abandoned his hiding place and leapt up to the main table, shaking his head and laughing. The spell shook off along with his movement. The veil of illusion dropped from his face. He still retained some wild beauty, in spite of the deathly palor on his face and the grimace that distored his sharp features. The black lips slid back, revealing sharp white fangs.
She saw how strong he was, as he stood there fighting, looking perfectly at ease, as if it was the very essence of his life. His talons tore trhougj silk and flesh, and drew out sprays of blood. swiftly and silently.
The hall exploded with human fear, she could almost smell its oppressive odour. The vampires relished in the acts of murder. The massacre was at its peak.
Dannhein gasped as a spray of blood hit the wall beside her and poured down lazily...A disfigured corpse slid down the table and skidded to a halt at her feet. She felt cold perspiration running down her spine as she gazed back at the carnage. The six vampires, the victors..the damn murderers...
They were dragging the chosen survivors to the middle of the floor, heaping them one upon the other. Their leader, the nobleman, stood now silently by the heap, his arms folder on his chest.
The other ones, moved around nimbly, their bodies covered almost completely in blood-slime.
Memories returned to Dannhein, she recognized one of them now...that face...when the town of Dannhein burned...
The vampire approached the leader, who nodded slowly:
"Turel", he said, "it's time to leave. Make sure that the slaves survive the journey"
Turel nodded. The five vampires picked up a half-alive prisoner and slung them over their shoulder. They leapt up with inhuman speed and disappeared in the dark holes of the windows. Their leader remained, standing by the pile of bodies and slowly looked around.
He sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed. The stench of blood clouded his senses but he could swear there was something fresh at the edge of...
Dannhein's eyes widened with horror as she saw him turn and walks straight at her. The horror made her speechless and motionless but she saw everything with terrible clarity: he was moving with a catlike grace, his face was set in a hungry scowl, his eyes were searching for something...she was sure...for her.
The time slowed down sickeningy. He stopped but a step from her and raised his clawed hand to strike. She shut her eyes tight, and held her breath, sheer panic ripping thoug her.
An image of his pale face flashed through her brain asshe felt a shadow of pain and a warm sensation of it throbbing in her chest. Her eyes remained closed, it seemed that her eyelids were sealed shut.
Death embraced her in the warm touch of blood.
************************************************************************************************************************************************
I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed :) and everyone who supported me. SPECIAL THANKS to Nocturnally Damned and Valdmir's Angel !!!!! I'm really really sorry for not updating this for such a long time. Writer's block and IRL. My apologies again.
From the Monachiel Scriptures:
Spark of light
Scarred with stigma of sin
Come, step into our shadows
Taste the purity of our bodies
Renounce the snakes of falsehood
For we offer you a new path
To enlightement.
Sepher Amor
By the Dawnlight street in Meridian, rested an obese and pretentious building of the Vampire Hunters Guild. No longer prosperous, the Guild still hung to the tapestry –wrought glory of the old days and never wasted a chance of tearing at the remaining shreds of past riches and fame. The wind played with lost memories in the vast marble halls of the Guild Headquarters, weaving a thread of time into fading colors of Guild banners. Attempts at resurrections were made now and again, sometimes even rewarded with a mummified vampire head on a stake in the dusty trophy room.
Although decaying and declining, the Guild still held a power of its own, having some influence in the Royal court and being able to boast of a large number of Hunters.
These were scattered through all Nosgoth, each of them pursuing their own personal career as a celebrated local hero or a well trained mercenary. However, if summoned, they would constitute a small, well equipped and experienced army.
They were to be dealt with.
Without unnecessary disrespect…
Kain smirked as he listened to Raziel's report on the Guild matters. As Kain began to speak, his son lowered his head in respect and listened. He bowed and smiled faintly.
"So it shall be, my Lord."
****************************************************************************************************************************************************
" It was the Sunrise that saved us
Praise be to the holy rays of Sun
Pure are our intentions and prayers
May we be granted the final victory"
(Passage carved into stone over the Guild Entrance, an ancient Sarafan prayer)
There was Meridian Festival coming. The time of celebration, in memory of the city founding, which had happened in an obscure ancient past. The date was unimportant. The need for circensem was powerful enough to spawn various festivals thorough the year.
The Guild also celebrated. The famous Hunters from all the provinces of Nosgoth traveled far to reach Meridian and the Headquarters for a feast, to boast about their kills and adventures.
Dannhein was now a part of all this…A simple apprentice to the Guild, she felt safe under its protective wings, hidden from the prying eyes of her husband's agents. It wasn't a life of breathtaking adventure, but at least she was on her own. She kept her crossbow in good repair, and frequented Dock Quarter shadowy inns, spending time with their equally shadowy patrons. The fuss about the preparations reached her too, and to her surprise she also received an order to attend the main feast. Not as a guest, however, but as a guard.
Someone had to guard the famous inebriated bastards.
The Guild Hall was drowning in yellow candlelight…it was early evening and the guests were to arrive shortly. There were tables laden with food and drink, the walls were adorned with rich tapestries. Servants were busying themselves about the preparations.
The tall stained –glass windows seemed dead, receiving no light from outside and seemed vacant, glazed, as if blind.
The neglect of the years had been swept out by busy servants, and the building was waiting anxiously to be injected with a new dose of life.
*************************************************************************************************************************************************
The hunt. A twinge of excitement ran through his body every time the night opened before him.
Freedom and obsession.
The two opposites merged in the intoxicating ritual of driving the prey into madness of fear and then tasting that madness in its blood.
He moved away from another the fallen body, letting Turel drink, and looked around. They were surrounded by a lush, fragrant garden, with fruit trees blossoming in the warm air. He inhaled deeply, feeling the perfume of the night stir something in his soul. He felt a twinge of regret, something unnatural to his vampiric nature. Shrugging mentally, he approached the nearest tree and ripped a white flower from its branch. It rested in his palm, delicate petals seemed to shrink on themselves, away from his skin. One of the petals clung to his blood-stained skin and drunk the blood, passing the velvety crimson color onto the others. A bitter smile appeared on Raziel's lips and he let the flower fall onto the ground.
Raziel licked at the exposed skin, cleaning it of the last drops of blood. He felt the skin cool down under his tongue as the body in his arms slowly drifted into death.
He'd always found this process fascinating and relished in the moment. After the last convulsions lessened into slight, unsteady movements, the body calmed, relaxed. The boy's hand slid down his leg and rested on the cold marble. Raziel watched it, fascinated. The fingers curled up, stiffness was entering them, a shade of sickly pale painted the fingertips...
"Raziel." Turel's voice startled him. "Let's go."
**********************************************************************
The feast at the Guild Hall was indeed, impressive. The multitude of guests mingled in the hall, a steady murmur of converstaion hovering above them like a cloud. The hall was filled with the smells of wine, perfumes, silk clothes and steaming food.
Dannhein was standing at the entrance, still clad in her patched-up uniform and observed the guests- there were noblemen, Guild masters, common career hunters...All of them talking lively, their faces shining with perspiration in the warm, candle heated air. Her gaze shifted idly over the faces, her thoughts wandering idly. Suddenly she frowned and her gaze went back, searching for something in the crowd...
Yes, there he was...
Sitting at one of the tables was a young nobleman. His appearance was that of particular beauty, his fine features set in an expression of polite detachment, his lips twisted in a disdainful smirk He did not touch the food but was sipping from a finely crafted cup. He must have been a high-born nobleman, one of those independent spirits who sought adventure and excitement and did not much care for the family's reputation. She knew that kind allright...but this one was fascinating somehow...In the flickering candlelight, his features seemed to change subtly, sharpen and soften. She continued watching him, her eyes watering from trying to detect what it was that created this illusion about his face. Suddenly, as if called by her intense stare, he turned his head and gazed at her, straight into her eyes, and for a moment, as her heart skipped a beat, she thought he saw into her very soul. Fighting the urge to scream, she held her hand up to her mouth and moved behing the pillar she was stading near to, feeling somewhat ridiculous. Her imagination was playing tricks on her.
From that spot, she continued to watch him and she saw him look up to the rich tapestries on the walls and the tall stained-glass windows. Following his gaze, she fancied she saw darker shadows behind the dirty glass. The nobleman behaved as if he was expecting something to happen, but...
The very idea was ludicrous...She shook her head and then she saw him stand up and walk leisurely to the opposite corner of the Hall...What was it he was looking for ? A woman, or a friend ? She couldn't help wondering...
There was a short spell of silence, one that always comes at great gatherings and hangs there for a few seconds only to disperse in a new wave of converstation. But this silence lingered...somehow containing a hint of fear, as if the crowd had a sixth sense and knew that something terrible was approaching. The silence spread quickly to the whole of the building racing amdly through the corridors, like a strange eerie echo...
And then...
Five avalanches of thick, sharp glass shards poured in heavy torrents from above. They crashed mercilessly down, diving throught the air with a sickening noiseskewering throught flesh, conjuring up red sprays of blood. They impaled chests, arms, drove throught skulls and slithered down silently onto the floor, bloodstained.
Five shadowy figured detached from the darkness pouring through the gaping holes of windows and leapt down, gracefully. They descended like dark angels, with their talons outstrched. As the light swept up theor bodies, Dannhein saw what they were.
Screaming, she drew back, as far as she could, until her back touched the cold stone of the wall.
They moved faster than any human could, their muscled were far stronger than any animals'....they were vampires.
The nobleman she had observed abandoned his hiding place and leapt up to the main table, shaking his head and laughing. The spell shook off along with his movement. The veil of illusion dropped from his face. He still retained some wild beauty, in spite of the deathly palor on his face and the grimace that distored his sharp features. The black lips slid back, revealing sharp white fangs.
She saw how strong he was, as he stood there fighting, looking perfectly at ease, as if it was the very essence of his life. His talons tore trhougj silk and flesh, and drew out sprays of blood. swiftly and silently.
The hall exploded with human fear, she could almost smell its oppressive odour. The vampires relished in the acts of murder. The massacre was at its peak.
Dannhein gasped as a spray of blood hit the wall beside her and poured down lazily...A disfigured corpse slid down the table and skidded to a halt at her feet. She felt cold perspiration running down her spine as she gazed back at the carnage. The six vampires, the victors..the damn murderers...
They were dragging the chosen survivors to the middle of the floor, heaping them one upon the other. Their leader, the nobleman, stood now silently by the heap, his arms folder on his chest.
The other ones, moved around nimbly, their bodies covered almost completely in blood-slime.
Memories returned to Dannhein, she recognized one of them now...that face...when the town of Dannhein burned...
The vampire approached the leader, who nodded slowly:
"Turel", he said, "it's time to leave. Make sure that the slaves survive the journey"
Turel nodded. The five vampires picked up a half-alive prisoner and slung them over their shoulder. They leapt up with inhuman speed and disappeared in the dark holes of the windows. Their leader remained, standing by the pile of bodies and slowly looked around.
He sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed. The stench of blood clouded his senses but he could swear there was something fresh at the edge of...
Dannhein's eyes widened with horror as she saw him turn and walks straight at her. The horror made her speechless and motionless but she saw everything with terrible clarity: he was moving with a catlike grace, his face was set in a hungry scowl, his eyes were searching for something...she was sure...for her.
The time slowed down sickeningy. He stopped but a step from her and raised his clawed hand to strike. She shut her eyes tight, and held her breath, sheer panic ripping thoug her.
An image of his pale face flashed through her brain asshe felt a shadow of pain and a warm sensation of it throbbing in her chest. Her eyes remained closed, it seemed that her eyelids were sealed shut.
Death embraced her in the warm touch of blood.
************************************************************************************************************************************************
I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed :) and everyone who supported me. SPECIAL THANKS to Nocturnally Damned and Valdmir's Angel !!!!! I'm really really sorry for not updating this for such a long time. Writer's block and IRL. My apologies again.
