(I do not own LOK etc.)

EWODEN

Chapter 2: Vorador's mansion

The gate of the mansion grounds swung open with a rusty screeching that the former Sarafan knew for certain would alert every vampire here to his presence. Some here knew him, others did not. It was those 'others' he was concerned about, driving a pike through him for being dressed in Sarafan armour. Situated in the black forest, far north west of the pillars, the mansion lay undisturbed by thieves. Despite the wealth on display without guards. No thief however was stupid enough to steal from Vorador. A vampire known for vicious sadistic blood shed across the length of Nosgoth.

The courtyard was empty, as Ewoden had expected it to be. It was still light outside and not many vampires could venture out; even in the evenings. Quickly the human removed his helmet for those he was sure were watching him, so that his features could be recognised. His furs were still covered in snow, and his boots in the fresh mud in the marshland surrounding the mansion. Leaving a thick trail of footprints, he walked right up to the front door that stood on a small platform with a set of curving stairs leading up to it.

The door looked locked at first glance, but suddenly and without explanation, the key turned itself in the lock and the door creaked open with an ominous groaning.

There was no one there to great him in the lavishly decorated hallway, save for a stone statue of Vorador himself that stood intimidating the guests that strode through the door. It was very effective. It wasn't Vorador in person, but it made the average person jump in surprise. The hall itself had a very tall ceiling and a soft red carpet running down it. A long collection of chandelles, thick with spiders webs hung from the ceiling, each crystal lit with a scented candle.

Leaving his furs on a chair nearby, Ewoden paused to removed his boots. It might have seemed mundane and pointless, but this was the house of Vorador. One was always wise to respect his abode. Out of the backpack over his shoulders, the former Sarafan extracted a fresh pair of leather boots and with those now on his feet, he left most of his belongs at the door and continued down the hallway towards the main hall. He had left the Axes Havoc and Malice, a gift from the Werewolf Seroli Forger Edward, strapped in an 'X' across his back. They would do much in keeping away anything that might get ideas.

"I know you're there." Ewoden stated loudly striding into the main hall itself, a large chamber with another set of curving stairs leading up to a second level. Six stone pillars stood in a rectangle around the room holding up the painstakingly curved ceiling. The shadows around the room seemed to whisper to each other in response, but not quietly enough for the former Sarafan not to hear it. Sighing he held his hand up and uttered the words of spell Janos had taught him. A collection of vampiric ruins gathering around him as the magic began working.

This caused magical light to radiate away from his palm, bathing the entire room in a soft white glow, revealing several startled fledgling vampires. The light was magical and could not possibly hurt them, but they didn't seem to know that. They screeched and dived for any more darkness they could find, but finding none, turned to face him with terrified looks on their faces. Pitting them, Ewoden called off the spell and the light faded. "Is you're master in?" He asked before they had a chance to react.

"The master resides in his private chamber." One of them began, still trembling. Having been here before, Ewoden knew where that was. Before he could even say thank you however, something grabbed him from behind, pilling his arms to his sides in bear hug. Thinking it was an attack, the former Sarafan looked ready to ignite a lightning spell before a familiar set of blonde hair brushed past his ear, a set of soft lips pressed against his cheek.

With that distract, the vampires disappeared and Ewoden was left alone with the one behind him. A brief smiled made it's way to his face.

"Bastard." She whispered to him, her hands all over his chest, eager fingers trying to work their way through the gaps in his armour. "You complete and utter bastard." He had missed her, that was undeniable.

She was a vampire, he was human. Most people would see that reason enough for them to be at each others throats. Ewoden however wasn't like most people. He had seen that vampires were just people with a curse. They still left anger, pain, sorrow and love like everyone else. It was the lies spread by the Sarafan that demonised them. "Leaving me alone, you bad boy." She added playfully, leaning forward just enough so he could see her pure black eyes. "I'll have to pay you back for that." Ewoden couldn't help blushing.

Vorador's estate stretched over a good deal of swamp land, a high wall circling the entire place. The main building itself had several bedrooms for his brides, a dozen pantries, basement, greenhouse and a long garden path leading down to a large crypt at the back; which according to his lesser servants, he had been lately spending a lot of time in. In fact, he seemed to have moved into there altogether.

The door to the crypt had been sealed shut by the time Ewoden reached it. Clearly Vorador did not want to be disturbed. The former Sarafan, while he respected the ancient Vampire did not have the time to wait around. Hesitating only briefly, he began to push the large stone door aside.

Before he'd even gotten it halfway open, Sally put her hand on his shoulder.

"He's not been in the best of moods." She told him. That set the scene for him well enough. Vorador may not be a raging beast like the Order would have everyone believe, however he was prone to outbursts of destructive anger. Pausing only for a moment, he pushed it aside completely.

Instantly the torches inside the chamber beyond lit up, forced to burn by some magic Vorador had installed upon the place. The room was a round with a curved ceiling with a tall stone chair placed at the far end, to the right of which was a set of stone stairs that curved downwards into another chamber below this one. There was a strong smell of incense in the air, like a thousand scented candles all burning at once.

Ewoden had half expected to find the vampire himself standing there to greet him; but instead all he was greeted with was am unnerving silence.

"Are you sure he's in here?" He asked Sally over his back. The female vampire nodded, a little puzzled by her masters absence herself.

"We saw him go in." She replied, stepping back the former Sarafan to look at the carvings on the walls and roof. All strange symbols the like of which were not common in Nosgoth.

Ewoden went over and inspected the stairs leading downwards and found two sets curving off in different directions; but both seemed to lead to the same place. A second chamber directly below the first. As the two of them descended, neither of them caught glance of Vorador. But that didn't mean he wasn't here. Once at the bottom of the stairs, they approached another doorway leading to the second chamber.

Looking inside, they saw the entire room was filled with candles; literally hundreds of them. There were placed upon the floors, tables and even a large stone alter directly in the centre. But it was not the candles there at once drew there attention.

It was the inanimate body that shared the alter with them. Vorador had retrieved the body of Janos Audron from his collapsed aerie and laid it out here. His arms were crossed over the gaping wound in his chest, where five of the best Sarafan inquisitors had torn out his heart. He looked as noble and gentle as when Ewoden first met him. At once his discontent and contempt for the Sarafan order reborn in a fiery blast. Sally found that she could not enter the room and even as she tried, a profound sense of sadness and despair washed over her.

"Our father deserves to be remembered as a holy man." A voice from the darkness stated as Vorador stepped out from the shadows behind them. He was good at hiding his emotions, but Ewoden could see that a twinge of powerful anguish in his yellow eyes. "Not as the monster the Sarafan made him out to be." No one said anything for a moment. Their gaze kept locked on the still form of Janos Audron. The last of the ancients, the lone survivor after so many of his kind committed suicide, unable to bear their curse.

Finally, Vorador sighed and began the walk back up towards the chamber above, the two others quickly following. "And what brings the traitor to the Sarafan order back here?" Vorador asked, giving Ewoden a side glance as they reached the above room.

"I need your help to locate somebody." The human replied, unsure exactly of how to state his new quest without being thought a madman. "Can you help me?" Vorador hummed to himself, looking thoughtful.

"Depends who it is." Was his eventual reply once they got back to the mansion itself, a large collection of servants already there to greet their master.

"One referred to as, the Scion of Balance." Vorador stopped in mid stride and stared directly at him with wide questioning eyes.

"I see." He replied flatly after a while. Silently, he lead them to one of his private studies; a small room at the back of the house, warmly lit by the glow from a fire place with a large collection of books stacked up on a book shelf. Sally did not enter with them. Servants could only enter Vorador's chambers unless told to. The ancient vampire shut to the door after him, indicating to his servants that he did not want to be disturbed. "The Scion of Balance…" He repeated, taking up a seat next to the fire and motioning for Ewoden to do the same in another chair. "Was a being my master talked about often. The one destined to free the vampires from their ancient curse. The one for whom the Reaver Blade was forged." It was about then that Ewoden realized he had heard mention of this Reaver Blade but had never actually seen it. "I can not find him young man, because he dose not exist. He is merely a character in folk lore created by a dying race to give themselves hope."

"The Seroli see him quite differently." Ewoden stated. Vorador paused and looked directly at him with sharp eyes.

"Exactly who have you been talking to?" He asked after a moment. Ewoden relented the tale of his encounter with the Were-wolf, who was in actuality one of the Seroli; master smiths who crafted the finest weapons in Nosgoth. It was he who had given him the axes Havoc and Malice and told him of the true purpose of the Scion of Balance; neither a saviour of one race; but rather a liberator of all. Vorador sat through it all with a sceptical glance on his face. "You tell an interesting story. I had thought my old kin extinct." He said after a brief moment of silence. "I was once Seroli, before the shadow of the wolf was passed to them. I would have shared their curse had I not been chosen to be Janos' Apprentice before hand." He was silent, ancient memories passing before his eyes. "But even if they told you this story, I doubt very much the tales authenticity." He could see in the former Sarafan's eyes a determined resolve. Ewoden was steadfast in this quest. "But very well, if you insist I believe I might be able to help you."

Later that night, the ancient vampire led Ewoden through his mansion to a room near the attic. It was a display room. A lot of the artefacts the vampires had recovered over the centuries ended up here. All were put on display in glass boxes, a thin lay of dust covering them all. Despite the grand collection, it seemed Vorador had little interest in it all.

Standing at the back of the long room was a set of black armour, made up of a mixture of chain mail and plates over the chest, arms and legs. It was expertly carved, even curve in the design done with extreme precision, but just by looking at it Ewoden could feel waves of power radiating away from it like ripples on a pond.

"This is the Wraith armour." Vorador began, lifting it piece by piece out of his display case. "Created for use by the Scion of Balance before the exact parameters of the vision were discovered. One the full vision was seen, it was concluded that this armour would interfere with destiny and was discarded. It remains however, attached to the Scion." He handed it all, piece by piece to the former Sarafan. "If he indeed dose exist, then this armour should lead you to him."