- For generations, werewolves were held as slaves to the vampires; this all changed due to the actions of one werewolf, Lucian, who said no to the vampire's rule. Soon others chose to follow suit and rose up against the covens, werewolves bravely willing to fight against their oppressors, and an all out war began for their freedom.
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A bloody war has raged on between the two warring bodies for years, a battle in secret to rule the night, a fight unseen by humankind.
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After years of fighting, between the two enemy races, there was no winner in sight, so many had died, so many had been affected.
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In the course of this war, werewolves, through the thirst of blood, were no longer held by the rules of the full moon and were able to change at their own will.
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However, the Vampire elders, Marcus, Viktor and Amelia, did not feel threatened, they called for new weapons. With new arms, the vampires led by Viktor met Lucian's hordes on the battlefield.
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The Vampires here gained the upper hand, and an unexpected vampire by the name of Kraven, a bureaucrat than a warrior, who all the same, bravely entered Lucian's forest hideout and was able to take the finishing blow, killing Lucian. The vampire returned with evidence of the werewolf's demise, showing Viktor the scarred skin of Lucian's own arm.
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A fire set the born down the werewolves stronghold, and in their defeat, the werewolf hordes scattered to the wind in a single evening of flame and retribution,
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With true victory in their grasp, the war now seemed to be over. The vampire race again, as our birthright, the ruling class of beast.
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With his own personal victory, Kraven was richly rewarded, and soon was able to stand at the side of the triumvirate of elders as their second-in-command. Something many had not seen coming.
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Years have turned to centuries, the vampires stand under the rule and service of Amelia, the third elder, and they have flourished greatly.
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Amelia's time, however, is now coming to an end, as she now, after her time in power, stands ready to awaken Marcus, and the past order to him.
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The battlefield, now Budapest, a country no stranger to war and conflict, the vampire's and werewolf's battleground, the moon lit streets and alleyways of this ancient city. A war that at long last could be coming to its hand in the wakening and passing of power. -
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Underworld -
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A werewolf by the name of Singe, in his human form sits at his workstation. It was truly clear by the man's size and stature that this man was only turned by a werewolf due to the man, he once was, knowledge and intelligence.
It was clear that the items on top of the workstation Singe was working on had been pulled together through means of scavenging and theft, as things were makeshift and mended to make do. A far cry to how Singe used to work.
Singe pulls back his chair, looking downhearted and deflated, he had just tested a blood sample he had taken from one werewolf and a human, and didn't gain the hopeful results that he was after.
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Another werewolf stood watch, looking over his shoulder, wanting to learn of his progress. "And, Singe, have you made any progress?" he was asked by this werewolf.
The smaller male shook his head. "Sadly not… the subject is negative… not our saviour at all!"
"What!" snarled the werewolf, hitting his fist against the wall.
"I may have been wrong this time around… but… but…' stuttered Singe, now fearing that he may be struck by the leader of the pack he had been dragged into. 'the Corvinus lineage does go back a long way… and with no accurate family tree, who knows where the true heir is… The sauce of the Corvinus bloodline is spread out across the world!"
"I know our history, Singe, and know that I am in no need of your excuses… I just want results… I just want the one pure blood that can take our kin to the next wave… Is that perfectly clear?"
"Ere, yes… yes it is, perfectly clear."
On the wall before Singe's desk is a ruff and put together family tree of the Corvinus bloodline, it was clear that it was one that Singe himself had put together from books, folklore and data. He leaned forward here and crossed off the name of their last subject, James T Corvia. There were other names on the wall, it was clear that the werewolves had been after this one savour for some time now.
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Now looking back at the fellow werewolf in the room, Singe, knowing too well his place, didn't match his gaze. "If my research is true, then he is out there… the one amongst the family that has the pure Alexander Corvinus' strain!"
"Then aid us well, Singe… because if what we are told is true, Amelia intends to send her army out after us… aiming to wipe us out once and for all… and those that I gathered together will not be enough to halt her wishes!"
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Within the house of Tordihnă, the elder, Amelia, calls a gathering of her coven. With the elder truly wanting, needing to cement her time as ruler, as she prepares to hand over power and to enter her time of rest.
Like any vampire coven, those a part of the Tordihnă are a well knit group of vampires, each one member deemed as kin, and as such were happy to accept their ruler, Amelia's calling, to stand together as one, in true peace and united in solidarity.
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The meeting room was very gothic in decor and style; of black and scarlet red.
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Although nearly fifteen centuries old, the vampire still had youthful beauty. Amelia was a relatively tall woman with pale skin and dark brown hair. She wore a long grey dress, a gold choker around her neck, and earrings. "I shall not hand over my power to Marcus knowing that there are still werewolves out there… Even though they are few in number they still manage to have a hold of this world… Hear my words, our sight should not be lowered. Our stance must remain the same, and that's to kill them all… every last one!" Amelia looked out, she came to see that she had the room's backing.
"I therefore call for an end to this damn war, and with it a full union of vampires."
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She now turned to her commanding officer. "Rigal, a lot rests upon your shoulders, but know that I can feel it now more than ever, true victory is within our grasp, that I am certain!"
Rigal was a death dealer; these are vampires who are skilled and trained to be their kin's elite warriors, he and the other soldiers are trained to fight and hunt. Each dealer strives for war and battle, mostly against werewolves, but with orders can also go into battle against other covens of vampires if the need calls for it. This commander had killed countless werewolves than any other vampire could readily recall. "I shall not fail you.' he stated proudly to the elder. 'Your death dealers, Amelia, are strong and are ready to strike, it will be a successful campaign… Perhaps the most successful!" He was a clear fighter, having a defined and muscular frame, turquoise eyes, slicked back blonde hair and refined facial features.
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A female vampire by the name Selene stood near, she had pale skin, she had kept her beauty of age; a woman on the true verge of womanhood. Her eyes were of a dark-hazel and her shoulder-length hair a dark brown. As a death dealer Selene wore her black uniform, with a protective-style corset and combat boots.
And as a death dealer. she was pleased to be entering into battle once again against the werewolves, Selene being no stranger to conflict and battle, and over the long shadowy months of war this dealer had like Rigal had taken down many lives of werewolves.
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Selene felt unsettled, 'Yes the war will soon be over, but in a way to me that's somewhat of a grave pity... As it signals the end of an era for me!' she thought in reflection, now questioning what her purpose will be next. After all, the end of this war is what she had been brought up and trained for. 'I long for battle, long for revenge against those who murdered my family in cold blood.' Selene long since being told by Viktor that it was the werewolves, who murdered her parents when she was a child. 'And with the end of this raging war, then I too will come to an end, be seen as obsolete… as what am I if not a vampire of war, a death dealer?'
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Amelia stepped forward, now standing before the death dealer commander, "Good! Now go, Rigal,' here placing her hands over his. 'Our city, our course is in need of one last sweep… hunt them down… kill them all, one by one! We shall see an end to all werewolf survivors."
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Selene is assigned to join this mission, the commander knowing her skill and professionalism. Rigal stated, as he stood before her. "Know that this would be what Viktor would have wanted for you… Together we will end this…drive them all to extinction."
Selene nods in agreement, knowing all too well that his words were true. "Yes indeed… I shall not rest until the last of their kind lay dead." Selene here hides all her doubts and fears behind a stern and determined look.
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Out on this mission that night, the city was still in full flow; with roads busy with the flow of traffic and the streets a buzz of pedestrians, the vampires kept to the shadows and rooftops of the city just out of sight from the humans.
The evening moon pepped through the masking black storm cloud over their head, thick heavy rain drenching the streets below. The full silver moon is only a few days off from its fullest and highest point of the year.
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Rigal leads this group of Death Dealers through the moonlit skyline of the ancient city. About 20 metres below, Rigal had come to spot amongst the crowd two characters that definitely stood out. 'Werewolves.' he thought, his sharp teeth now visible.
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The werewolves made their way roughly through the crowd, the duo pushed by those that got in their way, never man looking back or giving their actions a second thought.
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Rigal's eyes narrowed as he came to recognise the two werewolves; out in their plain human form, the werewolves still looked impressive compared to the mere mortals around them. One being Rahzia, a key werewolf and once Lucian's most loyal fighter. He is a tall black muscular male, with a bold head, a dark muzzled facial hair and dark skin, a true alpha, wearing clothes that didn't clearly didn't suit him, nor fit him too fell; as the werewolf does his utmost to blend in with the crowd around him in the central hub of the city. Scoffed old boots, black faded out denim jeans, a shirt that held tight to his flesh, and the only garment that suited him was the leather coat he wore, the collar up to offer a little cover from the coat, not that he needed it.