The wind was in her favor when she turned into a gaseous form for it blew
her into the direction of what could be called the under city. Even though
the radiant dawn was mounting in the azure sky, the vile portion was
drowned in shadow due to the light consuming buildings in the metropolis.
She took on her normal form and also used her innate ability to be undetectable as long as no one was focusing on her. Her golden gaze trailed up the burned out structure, and surprisingly enough, she had little to do with that happening. When she first came to this place, the woman had stumbled upon it. How easy it was to simply just go in and claim it her own, and whenever someone went by, a feeling of dread drowned them. Yes, her home was fortified, and thus, it will remain hers for a long, long time.
As the dhampir turned the rusty knob of the blackened, foul smelling door, a wicked smile played her lips. Then she was inside. The door creaked closed.
The air was thick with time for she rarely entered through the use of a door. The home still retained the burnt smell from the convenient fire, or at least it had been convenient for her. To the normal eye, the area inside looked like a starless night save for a single broken window, but to her, everything took on a blue hue.
The floorboards did not groan in protest when she sauntered towards the falling portal that barked the weak stairs that led down into her true home. The basement.
She had only been here for several weeks, but she had already known that she planed to stay for quite some time, and thus, her belongings where laid about in a loving manner. She did not really possess much. Hanging on a crooked hook was her dirtied white cloak that she had not donned in over a century, but it reminded her of so long ago that she could not bear to discard it. The remnants of her battle gear had been lost years ago, but that did not matter much anyway for she did not require it any more. Lying against a wall was here beloved rapier, but it had rarely seen battle, more so as of late.
The dhampir sat against the cold stone wall, an action that caused some dust to fall on her from the slowly but surely crumbling ceiling, but the cold did not bother her. Her mind wandered back to a time so very long ago.
She had lived for eighteen years in the town where she was born. The people had tried to burn her human mother and her repugnant child. The village burned to the ground instead, but that was the last she had ever seen of her parents. It was funny, she thought, of how she can remember everything in such detail.
A merciful couple found her, a silent infant. They could not have children of their own. The two felt fortunate. How they were wrong. When she was older, she killed them. In pure truth, she had not a clue why she performed that action, but it did not matter in the end.
The long deceased couple had named her Belle. That was not her name.
She took up residence in a peculiar tavern. It was a colossal tower that marked the rebuilt town well. At first, the owner was reluctant to allow her, her stay, but he slowly let her remain, after much convincing, that is.
The dhampir watched through the highest window of the ominous tower as the years went by. She would sometimes go down and sit by the fire. Everyone left her alone.
One rainy time, a dark cloaked woman, a foreigner to Bad Luck Town, entered through the large oaken doors. She trailed behind the dhampir, but the young woman had tried to nullify the encounter. She failed.
The hidden woman dragged her out into the dreary rain, and claimed that she could help her kin. She asked her name. A name was given. The tale began then.
She shook her head violently as if trying to rid her past from her present. They were all dead. All dead!
Her malicious eyes darted heavenward. Someone had entered.
This was her territory, and thus, she could not let this prowler leave alive. Go to An Encounter.
She took on her normal form and also used her innate ability to be undetectable as long as no one was focusing on her. Her golden gaze trailed up the burned out structure, and surprisingly enough, she had little to do with that happening. When she first came to this place, the woman had stumbled upon it. How easy it was to simply just go in and claim it her own, and whenever someone went by, a feeling of dread drowned them. Yes, her home was fortified, and thus, it will remain hers for a long, long time.
As the dhampir turned the rusty knob of the blackened, foul smelling door, a wicked smile played her lips. Then she was inside. The door creaked closed.
The air was thick with time for she rarely entered through the use of a door. The home still retained the burnt smell from the convenient fire, or at least it had been convenient for her. To the normal eye, the area inside looked like a starless night save for a single broken window, but to her, everything took on a blue hue.
The floorboards did not groan in protest when she sauntered towards the falling portal that barked the weak stairs that led down into her true home. The basement.
She had only been here for several weeks, but she had already known that she planed to stay for quite some time, and thus, her belongings where laid about in a loving manner. She did not really possess much. Hanging on a crooked hook was her dirtied white cloak that she had not donned in over a century, but it reminded her of so long ago that she could not bear to discard it. The remnants of her battle gear had been lost years ago, but that did not matter much anyway for she did not require it any more. Lying against a wall was here beloved rapier, but it had rarely seen battle, more so as of late.
The dhampir sat against the cold stone wall, an action that caused some dust to fall on her from the slowly but surely crumbling ceiling, but the cold did not bother her. Her mind wandered back to a time so very long ago.
She had lived for eighteen years in the town where she was born. The people had tried to burn her human mother and her repugnant child. The village burned to the ground instead, but that was the last she had ever seen of her parents. It was funny, she thought, of how she can remember everything in such detail.
A merciful couple found her, a silent infant. They could not have children of their own. The two felt fortunate. How they were wrong. When she was older, she killed them. In pure truth, she had not a clue why she performed that action, but it did not matter in the end.
The long deceased couple had named her Belle. That was not her name.
She took up residence in a peculiar tavern. It was a colossal tower that marked the rebuilt town well. At first, the owner was reluctant to allow her, her stay, but he slowly let her remain, after much convincing, that is.
The dhampir watched through the highest window of the ominous tower as the years went by. She would sometimes go down and sit by the fire. Everyone left her alone.
One rainy time, a dark cloaked woman, a foreigner to Bad Luck Town, entered through the large oaken doors. She trailed behind the dhampir, but the young woman had tried to nullify the encounter. She failed.
The hidden woman dragged her out into the dreary rain, and claimed that she could help her kin. She asked her name. A name was given. The tale began then.
She shook her head violently as if trying to rid her past from her present. They were all dead. All dead!
Her malicious eyes darted heavenward. Someone had entered.
This was her territory, and thus, she could not let this prowler leave alive. Go to An Encounter.
