History Lesson

Gadorian awoke to the sun setting over the Meridian skyline. How long had he slept? In his dreaming he sensed something had happened...in the sewers? Novanus, yes. That charlatan could wait. Gadorian began to head towards the city. Whether through stealth or steel, he would achieve his goals. He found the ward gate...broken. "Well, I suppose Novanus served some use," he thought. Gadorian suppressed his vampire energies and took on his most human of forms as he approached the checkpoint.
"Why, beautiful night, isn't it?" The guards looked up at the stranger with contempt. "What's yer bid'ness eer in Meridian?" "I've come from distant...Steinchroe! Yes, Steinchroe, to sell these wares!" Gadorian opened his coat to reveal a plethora of daggers, rings, and other such artifacts. "Check 'em, Bridgmont!" One of the guards lifted a strange looking instrument towards Gadorian, obviously imbued with the same enchantments as the ward gate. The instrument issued no response.
"Alright, you're cleared."
Gadorian could sense the sword's aura emanating from a large domed building to the north. The Grand Library of Meridian, had Izael decided to go the way of the scholar?
Gadorian jumped in through one of the upper windows and landed silently just in front of Izael. "I'm so very disappointed in you, really. It seems I need to instill a little bit of...loyalty."
Instinctively, Izael grabbed his blade. Just as before, however, the sword yielded to the will of Gadorian over that of the young knight. The sword levitated in front of Gadorian as he began his speech. "I don't know what lies you have heard of this weapon, but I tell you that if you trust me, you will learn the truth. This sword was to bring forth a new age of prosperity in Nosgoth. It was to foster an eternal brotherhood between man and vampire. All of this was lost due to the greed of one man.
"A brief history lesson, before we continue. The Sarafan schools seem to have a warped interpretation of what precisely makes a 'vampire.' We are not demons. We are not vengeful dead. We are the descendents of the proudest race ever to grace Nosgoth, and in a way, so are you. The vampires were embroiled in a terrible war with the Hylden. In order to bring a close to the conflict, the vampires banished the Hylden by embodying the very life-force of Nosgoth into the Pillars. With their last breath, however, the Hylden cursed the vampires with the blood-thirst, and immortality. For a time, the ancient vampires were able to carry on, but crises erupted as the original vampire pillar guardians fell. The new guardians chosen by the pillars were humans, not vampires. The very nature of the pillars and the integrity of the binding holding back the Hylden scourge depended on vampire guardianship, and thus the ancients decided to pass the dark gift onto the human guardians and thus maintain the binding
"The elders of the vampires needed a symbol to represent the new fellowship that would be necessary to maintain this delicate balance, and thus the very sword you hold now, was forged. A great many sorcerers had their hand in its creation, and thus no being knows the full extent of the secrets within the blade. One thing is for certain - the sword is a vessel, of sorts, for souls. Almost. It's difficult to explain
"Surely you have heard of the Soul Reaver, the dreaded possessed blade once wielded by Kain? Inside the Reaver is a complete, somewhat sentient, living soul. Similar methods were used to create both blades, but the results were distinct.
"As each bearer of the blade falls, a piece of his essence enters the sword, while his true soul continues on to the underworld. Memories, feelings, are stored in the sword, but nothing altogether significant. Thus, as the sword passes hands, it becomes more and more powerful, but never acquires a distinct will. The energy within the sword borrows its will from the bearer and acts as an extension of the bearer's own sword - the stronger the bearer, the more powerful the blade. But I digress.
"As I said before, the sword was to be a physical link between humans and vampires. The vampires, therefore, sought the greatest of smiths - the Serioli - to forge it. The Serioli toiled for years to perfect the sword, and then even more time passed before the vampire elders had laid all of their magic upon it. Finally, the sword was presented to its champion.
"The chief of the Serioli was a haughty, arrogant man, and the ancients saw this. Thus, they chose a different champion among the tribe - a great warrior, and the first human pillar guardian of conflict. The ancients presented the sword and then passed the gift on to their new champion. His son was to remain human and perpetuate his human line, and so it was. You, Izael, are descended from that line.
"The champion was then asked to create a fledgling vampire, whose line would twin that of the humans. This vampire would be different from others in that he was bestowed with special abilities to live among humans. As the ages passed, he would be able to postpone the physical effects of becoming an elder - cloven claws and feet - though his strength and abilities would still continue to grow as if he had evolved as such. His human name and his land of origin have been lost to the ages, but the ancients dubbed him—Gadorian. Be it only a single drop, Izael, the same blood flows through our veins."
Izael's jaw dropped in disbelief. Gadorian saw he needed some way to prove himself. He grabbed the sword floating in front of him, and swung it about a few times. Each time he did, the sword emitted a strange noise - to one who did not know its secrets, it was merely a terrifying cacophony - but as Izael listened closer and closer, he thought he could hear his ancestors singing in a beautiful choir each time the blade rent the air. As soon as his hand had touched the hilt, too, Gadorian was covered in a translucent, crystalline armor, and seemed to sprout wings made of the same material. The creature of the night shined with a light vaguely angelic in the dark library.
"The Serioli chief grew more and more jealous as the days went by, and turned to dark sorcery to achieve his goals. He punched a hole through the binding that held back the Hylden in order to seek their aid. The rift he created was just small enough for his body and soul to be consumed by a member of that terrible race. The chief, now possessed by Hylden, set in motion his grand plan to undo the wonders that human and vampire had wrought. He—"
Before Gadorian could continue, the library doors burst open and a squad of elite Sarafan entered, attracted by the light created when Gadorian held the sword. The vampire returned the blade to Izael and again entered the darkened alleys of Meridian...

Izael quickly hid the sword and pretended to be a scholar working overtime, arranging books to their shelves. To his luck, the guards were too arrogant to believe anything could happen HERE and left soon, leaving Izael alone to ponder all he had heard. Vampires were really the good ones? Then the Sarafan were evil, hunting down creatures of purity that only sought peace but were cursed to drink human blood. No, it could not be true. IT COULDN'T! But something told Izael that the vampire, Gadorian, wasn't lying. Still, he needed to be sure. Izael slowly lit another candle and walked to the Forbidden Shelves that were said to contain the full history of Nosgoth, written by scholars throughout the times. However, Sarafan had killed those scholars as heretics and sealed all their secrets here. There might be some wards, but Izael knew what books to take and run before those guards could react.

"Why am I here?" Lent couldn't help but smile with a slight hint of arrogance. "To save the vampire resistance, of course." Novanus and Lessa both let out their blood curdling laugh, but were both cut short by Lent's serious face. Lent looked the two over carefully. The male was an ancient, his feet were cloven and his hands only had three fingers. Lent estimated he was over 3,000 years old and probably knew the vampire heritage well. Lent looked over the younger female carefully. She was beautiful, and a beautiful woman is very dangerous; a beautiful woman vampire is even more dangerous. Men lose their wits and their lives with but a look in their eyes, so Lent avoided eye contact with her. "Come," Lent said, "I'll show you."
The three made their way out of the sewers and to Lent's wagon. The moonlight shined brightly, illuminating the streets around. "Go inside", Lent said as he put his overcoat on to hide the mark of Vorador. The two vampires gave a look of concern but went inside and sat down. Lent sat from across from them, and then removed a floor board from under the wagon to reveal a burned vampire's body, its white hair blackened with its own ash. Its two white fangs peaked out from its lips as its breath was ever so shallow. "Behold, Kain. Destined to rule Nosgoth and restore the Vampire heritage."
Both were speechless. Lent continued, "He's been smuggled around from place to place for over 100 years. His previous hiding place was in danger of being discovered, so being the last member of the Loki I was entrusted with him to find a better hiding place. What better place for him to awake then in the city of his very enemy?" Lent paused to marvel at his god. "He still has life in him; cut a throat above him and his instinct takes over and he feeds. As long as he is alive there is hope. There are those whose sole existence is to find this body and destroy it. And not just the unseen enemy from ancient days, but vampires as well." Lent gave a look of disgust, "It's a travesty that some are given the gift without full knowledge of their heritage. They would seek to exterminate their own kind to save their pathetic lives." Lent looked at Novanus, "It is only because you are an ancient that I know you know the truth. I need to take him to sanctuary, until then he is still in danger."

Novanus looked down at the charred corpse in front of him and laughed out loud.
"KAIN!" Novanus laughed again. "So this is the master who fills your mind so. I should have guessed that this mangy dog would still be alive, he has more lives than a cat."
Novanus looked up at Lent. "Sanctuary in Meridian is no longer as safe as it should be; we have two options from here. One, we can travel to my home. I will have to be there soon because I am expecting a visitor. Our second option is to try and rebuild the Cabal, here in Meridian. I have slightly more abilities at my disposal than Vorador did which should make hiding here easier but I fear there are not enough of us for that."
Novanus paused and lowered the tone of his voice. "There is another threat to the vampire nation at this time than the Sarafan, however. With the inhabitants of the Nerayan so close to breaking through the barrier to our dimension, all life is threatened and unfortunately the only one who might be able to stop those accursed ones from damaging this time is only a boy who has no idea of the power he wields."
Novanus smashed his fist into the wall, sending a shower of rubble around the room. "There just isn't enough time for all of this. There is too much happening and we are too few. I suggest we leave this city and head for my home. It is the safest possible place for Kain and us. I can protect us from the Nerayan, attempt to awaken Kain and hopefully awaken the boys potential and save us all. I will tell you one thing, descendant of Vorador," Novanus winked at Lent, "I am finding all this excitement rather fun." Novanus' eyes twinkled mischievously.

Lent seemed annoyed that this vampire wanted to take Kain out of Meridian. He had risked too much to bring him to the belly of the beast only to take him out now. "If it's all the same to you," Lent said, "I'd much rather keep him here. True that vampires are not safe in Meridian, but I can stay with him and bring him food every night without being caught. Besides, when he does awake on his own he will be right here to overthrow the Sarafan Lord. And if you aren't able to revive him we won't get another opportunity to smuggle him in here again."
"If the Sarafan are exterminating our kind, what chance does a human have against them?" Lessa said. "The chance of surprise," Lent responded. "You saw the faces of those Sarafan in the sewers, a human is the most unsuspected attacker against this order." "Human, I could tear your throat and make a meal out of you. You haven't the smallest chance," Lessa replied. Lent retorted, "And you'd be going through eternity with a few missing limbs. I may be a vampire worshiper but I'm no easy meal. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me."
Lent was proud, he knew it; and egging any vampire on was never a good idea. Still, Lent felt he had to stand his ground, he had been around vampires all his life and learned not to tolerate their prejudice. Still, he had to find a safe haven for his fallen god, and if this vampire truly offered shelter and a chance to revive him, then Lent could not pass this up.
"Where is this lair of yours?" Lent asked. "I understand your reluctance to leave Meridian. I know how much of a journey you have made. Perhaps you are right about not moving Kain so soon after the journey as well. He needs rest, not another journey to strain his recovery. There may yet be a way to remain here away from prying eyes. Before the Sarafan or even man built a city here, there was a temple. A temple to my ancient masters. I am sure it has not been discovered as there are powerful enchantments laid on it. The entrance is blocked but I am sure I can clear it."
Novanus turned to Lessa, "You must learn to control your temper." Novanus noticed Lent attempt to hide a smirk at the young vampire receiving a reprimand. "Descendent of Vorador or not," Novanus levitated Lent into the air and paralyzed all the Vampire worshipper's muscles, "Do not make threats you cannot back up. In order to dismember my friend here dear boy, you would first need to be able to move your arms. As I am sure you are aware, I can make that very difficult for you."
Novanus laughed and released Lent, gently lowering him to the floor. "I am sorry, my friend, but I cannot stand idle threats and I think it was important that I place a few boundaries….for you all." Novanus aimed the last part of his sentence not just at Lent but also at Lessa and made her aware that he was doing so. "Enough of this, let us leave this place and head to the temple. I shall have some of my people meet us there with some nourishment for you Lent, and some creature comforts for all of us." Novanus turned his attention away from the other two and sent his mental voice out to his servant. "Admar, Admar wake up."
In his bed not far from where Novanus and his two companions were, Admar the merchant lay asleep in his bed. He awoke from troubled dreams to hear the voice of his master in the vaults of his mind. "Master… is that you?" "Yes Admar, we have little time now my friend. Now listen to me, use some of the gold I gave you and go and buy food and furniture fitting of me and bring them here." Novanus sent a mental picture of the location to the entrance of the temple as well as directions to get there. "Master." "Yes Admar?" "It's three in the morning. How am I to get these things?" "Admar, my dear boy, I don't want to hear problems, I will see you at the Temple entrance." With that, Novanus left Admar's mind, leaving the merchant dazed and bewildered.
Novanus now turned his attention to Gadorian. Although he thought the vampire was a complete ass, it was only decent that he inform Gadorian of the unfolding events. Novanus found Gadorian gazing at Izael. "Gadorian, listen to me." With that Novanus told him of all that occurred and requested his presence at the temple. "Oh and bring Izael with you. The boy needs to know what is going on."
"Right," said Novanus, turning back to Lent and Lessa, "Let's go to the temple."

The party made its way to the temple, and Lent was pleased to see that it was indeed secure. The temple was hidden away from the eyes of man, and nearly impossible to reach. It took quite the effort to move Kain's body up the steep cliffs, for the temple was built by those with wings. Lent was probably the only human in a millennium or so who had set foot in it. Even he had to get help from the vampires to reach it. Lent hated having to rely on another, and although he was quite a capable human, these were living gods and his pride would always be humbled before them.