A Significant Meeting

Through the dark, silent streets, Novanus worked towards the older part of the city. He deliberately moved at a leisurely pace allowing nostalgia to wash over him. Despite the circumstances of that time, Novanus had enjoyed himself. He turned down a particularly dark alley. The walls were covered in slime and the grate which blocked the entrance to the sewers had been welded shut. Novanus lifted the grate off the wall as if it were no more than paper and continued into the sewer. In no time at all he began to see the evidence of a vampiric presence here. Blood spots appeared all over the floor and occasionally splashed against the walls. "Fledglings," thought Novanus, typically sloppy with the kills. No sense of style or grace. Novanus on impulse sent out a mental call to Gadorian telling him where he was meeting Lessa. He knew that Gadorian would in all likelihood completely ignore him but it didn't hurt to keep the ignoramus informed of events. Novanus walked on until he entered the chamber that had once been the home of the Vampire resistance and where he had called home a long time ago.

Lessa had used the psychic projection well but she knew Novanus had not been fooled by the smile that had crossed his face as she had left. Now free of the cattle's suspicion, Lessa guided the horse to the old parts. Much had changed since she had roamed. The Sarafan had more power and that damned armor they wore could be annoying, she had to use up much power to keep that stuff ignorant of her presence. She needed to feed before she went to meet Novanus.
As she rounded the corner, she found a drunk man ambling in the streets. His clothes were that of a noble and he walked with a swaying step. Lessa dismounted and walked up to him, making herself look weak and alone. "Please, kind sir. I am lost, can you tell me the way to the old quarter?" she asked. "Wasssh that? Oldd Quarter? ummm yesth I'll I'll tell you where, but you havve toooo give ma a kisth after," replied the noble, slurring his words in his drunken stupor. "Ok," replied Lessa. The noble responded, "Go to the end of the street and head north, you will, will come across it, now how about that kisth?" "Come here then, my handsome man," replied Lessa as she opened her arms to him.
The man could not believe his luck. This beautiful woman was going to give him a kiss just for directions. She came forward and her lips touched his lips, they stayed there for a minute, then slowly they started to go down to his neck with soft kisses. When those red lips met his neck where his main artery resided, he felt a sharp pain. The dizziness, at first he put it down to the drink, but on the edge of his mind like a wave of light he suddenly realized he was in a vampire's embrace...but it came too late. The man slipped to the floor with a soft moan, and Lessa wiped the blood from her mouth and remounted her horse to continue on to the sewer.
Lessa arrived to see Novanus already waiting. "So you made it," she said in way of greeting. "Where did we leave off...Oh yes, you where going to tell me of this time." Lessa walked over to a pillar which had a large lip on which she could sit and listen to his answers, and probably his questions too...

Izael stood slowly as the spell expired. He explained to the Sarafan guards what they had on them right now. After that, he decided that he had to follow the two vampires to their meeting place in the sewers. Though Izael had never been in the sewers, it was all too easy to follow the bloody marks on the walls until he came to a small chamber. The two were already there. Good. Now all Izael needed to do was to wait for the regiment of elite knights to arrive and purge the ground once and for all.

Novanus looked up at Lessa's entry. She looked pale but Novanus could see the telltale flush to her cheeks that indicated she had fed since he had last seen her. "The time you have awoken to is fraught with danger. The Cabal is finished, and the Sarafan are more powerful than ever. Any fledglings born today seldom live a week before they are killed. They have all manner of means to track and kill us and only the strongest of us can survive." Novanus paused. "You want answers," he continued as he looked at Lessa. "Answers will make you want to get involved. I tell you now do not interfere in what is afoot, it will only cause problems which I will have to tidy up."
Lessa looked at Novanus with an injured expression. "Don't look at me like that, Lessa. All you need to know is that the Sword of the Serioli is once more among us, and it is wielded by the only living descendant of my old tribe, the Sarafan you nearly killed tonight." Novanus turned towards the entrance to the chamber. "In fact, the very same Sarafan warrior who is hiding within that alcove," Novanus pointed to the corner of the room. "It's ok Izael, you can come out." Nothing in the room moved except for the flickering of the shadows from the lit torches. "Suit yourself, Izael, but we both know you're there."
Novanus turned to Lessa. "The inhabitants of the Nerayan are on the move."

Lessa looked to the dark alcove. "Him. But this one has no idea of what he is doing. Even now he thinks he will kill us. You and I both know he would not get that far, but it still hasn't sunk in him yet," replied Lessa while looking at the alcove where the mortal hid. "But enough of him, I come only for my sire for whom I seek. Tell me, do you know anything of Vorador? Your plans do not interest me."

The fire was warm and Orugarde looked on as Kour's words weighed heavily on his mind. Not knowing what to make of this new information and full of questions, he turned only to see an agonized look on Kour's face. Eyes closed and grimaced, Kour was clearly in pain. Clasping his head in his hands, he bent, head down in silent agony.
"My lord, what is wrong? Are you alright?" Orugarde came to Kour's aid. Helping him back to his seat, Orugarde noticed an unusual movement within the fire. The small yellow flickers began to swirl. Warm, soft embers turned to hot, blue flames and rose to mist high above. Orugarde watched dumbfounded as wisps of mist multiplied and twisted into shapes almost recognizable. As Orugarde looked on, Kour suddenly called out, "Orugarde, Listen! Empty your mind! Let go of all thoughts! Quickly!"
Without hesitation, Orugarde diverted his gaze from above and sat down on the ground below. Years of training kicked in and Orugarde began to focus within. His breathing slowed, his body relaxed, his mind was still. The white blue mist now gathered into a zephyr of swirling white wind and swooped down on the two still bodies. Kour and Orugarde maintained unwavering composure as the entities passed through their bodies unaffected and out into the black of night.

Izael stepped from the shadows, his courage having returned. "Ah, but I am not here to kill you, undead beasts. No, that job will be left for my brothers once they arrive. Neither am I here to threaten you. You say you can give me answers, and you haven't killed me...yet. So, as a return, I offer you this chance to leave Meridian while there is still time. I warn you, should you stay, my brothers WILL find you. And I don't want you killed until I've had my answers. So, leave Meridian, and I will seek you out." Novanus let out an enormous laugh that sent shivers down Izael's spine. The laugh was tinged with both malice and mischief and for some reason Izael stepped back a pace.
"My dear boy, your Sarafan friends would all be dead before they stepped within 50 feet of me or Lessa, I can guarantee that." Novanus tapped his cloven foot on the floor. "The answers will be given at my leisure and will not be dictated by some scrap of a lad who has no idea of his heritage, and hides within the skirts of the Sarafan Order."
Izael took a step forward and froze his muscles once again in a state of stasis, unable to move. His eyes showed no flicker of fear, but instead complete defiance.
Novanus turned to Lessa and took a step forward; he laced a tentative hand on her shoulder. "My dear, I do have news of Vorador. I am sorry child but he was killed." Lessa collapsed to the floor sobbing. "Hush, child, do not cry for him, he died fighting for us all, as he would have wanted to go." Novanus turned to Izael, "His head was taken and used as a trophy by the Sarafan order." Novanus spat out the words showing his complete contempt. "Vorador fought until the last. Sadly now I am the only Vampire who can even remember what our Forefathers were like. I am sorry, child, but bottle your grief for now. Although the Sarafan would be little trouble for us, I believe that a change of scenery is called for. Hold back your grief and come with me to my home. It is not far from here and we have much to discuss."
Novanus turned back to Izael. "We will leave now. Should you wish to receive the answers you desire, travel north past Uschtenheim. When you reach a lake of ice I shall come and find you. Do not try and tell any of your brothers of the route you are to take as you shall find that you will not be able to speak of it at all."
Novanus turned to Lessa and picked up the weeping form in his arms. "How child-like she seems," he thought, "I shall comfort her as best I can." With that, the pair was gone, leaving the now free Izael gasping for breath on the floor.

"Whoa," Lent said as he pulled back on the reigns. He had reached the gates of Meridian at last. How he was he going to smuggle his precious cargo into the city remained to be seen. Lent cautiously approached the gate and was very surprised to see it was open. A single guard stood watch. "Hello there," Lent said, "I didn't realize Meridian's gates were open at night."
"Cursed vampires destroyed our glyph gates," the knight replied. "A team is currently on its way to fix it before we're over-run with vampires." "I don't suppose you might let me pass?" Lent asked. "Name and business?" the knight replied. "Purie, vampire hunter. I'm here to re-supply my wagon and I'm on my way."
The knight laughed, "Well, I don't think you'll find much work in here with so many Sarafan." The knight inspected the wagon, wooden stakes tied up in bundles, a day's worth of food, and some holy water. "Alright, you can pass."
"Heya," Lent shook the reigns and he entered the streets of the city. He had to find the leader of the Cabal, this prize he was smuggling in could only be given to him, and no other vampire. Making his way to the older parts of the city, he encountered a large squad of Sarafan knights. Lent quietly listened in.
"This way!" the glyph knight said, "Our informant says that the cursed vampire nest is in the sewers." "This should prove interesting," Lent thought. He decided to carefully follow them. Perhaps these vampires were part of the resistance and could take Lent and his cargo to sanctuary. The knights led him to an entry way to the sewers. It was too small for Lent to get his wagon in, so he decided to wait with his cargo. He over-heard the knights speaking of another squad meeting them in the middle so they might ambush the unsuspecting vampires, and that the informant was probably dead so kill all that are in there. Lent wondered if he should intervene or wait to see if the vampires were the victors.

Once again, Izael slowly rose to his feet. He was now very angry. He was tired of being pushed around. He would break into the Sacred Library here in Meridian. He would then uncover all the secrets of the Sarafan Brotherhood. Izael hoped that those books would contain all he needed to know in order to counter the psychic abilities of the vampires, like the generals and high priests in his sacred order. He knew that to the Sarafan, he would probably be already dead, since he had pursued the vampires this far alone. To make it look like he had actually been killed here, he removed his shoulder plate. Taking his sword, he opened his vein and spilled his blood on the plate until it was covered in it and there was a small pool on the floor. Then, he concentrated for a second, and using the healing magic his father had taught, closed the wound. Then, he vanished into the night.

Lent waited outside the sewer entrance as he heard shouts from within. A Sarafan warrior hurried out of the sewers holding his arm. "What a coward," Lent thought, "I should kill such a weakling." Lent dismounted and took off his overcoat. His right arm showed the tattoo of Vorador's dragon, indicating his bloodline. Although human, he was a direct descendent of Vorador (when Vorador was human), and he had always taken pride in that. Lent grabbed his axes and a few throwing knives. He looked over and saw that the coward Sarafan had alerted another squad which was making its way into the sewers. "Well, can't back out now." Lent secured his belongings and crept into the sewers after the third squad of Sarafan entered.
The sewers smelled of human feces, and fresh bodies lay everywhere. Suddenly a hand grabbed Lent's shoulders and he instinctively turned and beheaded the guard who took him by surprise. Two guards looked up in surprise to see a human fight along side of these vampires and they tried to storm him.
The battle went on for twenty minutes and in the end stood two vampires, and a very tired Lent. Thirty bodies or so separated him from the two vampires, piled so close together Lent could walk to them with out setting foot on the ground.
Lent didn't recognize either of them. One of them was obviously an elder, the other not too old, but not a fledgling either. Blood stained tears lay across her face, but neither of them sustained injury. They could have probably killed the Sarafan on their own with out too much difficulty.
Lent stood there and introduced himself. "I am Lent, last member of the Loki vampire worshipers. I have come to Meridian seeking the vampire resistance. Can you aid me?" "I thank you for your help," Novanus looked Lent up and down, with a look of skepticism. "A Loki? I had believed your entire line had been extinguished years ago." Lessa leapt forward, "Why should we believe you?"
With a comforting arm Novanus eased Lessa back. "Forgive the young one; she has just had some unsettling news. I am Novanus. I am afraid, Lent, that you are too late, short of a few fledglings and one other elder vampire, Lessa and I are the resistance left against the Sarafan. What is your business here?"