Fiction:War of Vampires/Prologue

The New Pupil
A month had passed since the Fog Forest incident. It was now spring 32 NA, a starry night at the Tropical Lands. The sky was clean, and the light of the two moons of Koldenwelt gave anyone who looked up quite a sight. The and  were gathering lumber outside of the Skull Cave, with the Witch using her water magic to cut trees down with ease. Kanna used a combination of his blades and his strength to assist the Witch in felling the trees, whistling calmly as he did so. He didn't seem to tire easily, yet it was clear that he had started this task sometime earlier than the Witch. Admittedly, he was hardly the fastest worker.


 * Sea Witch - Well, you're good at this. Never had anyone help with lumbering before.
 * Kanna - Well, I had to lumber by myself before all this, just like you did. I'd say I should've gotten good at it by now, otherwise I've been doing something wrong this whole time.
 * Sea Witch - Can't rely on Clothovera for work like this. Even more now that she's all hearts and rainbows with .
 * Kanna - Hmph, the tyke had better treat her well, or I'll have something else to yell at him for. Good for him that he's adapted to life outside of the Isles.
 * Sea Witch - What's your pickle with him exactly?

Kanna stopped for a moment and stepped back, resting his swords at his side before he turned around to face the Witch and sat down on one of the trees he had dismembered. He kept his eyes to the floor and he let out a long, miserable sigh, placing his swords down and resting his hands on his lap.


 * Kanna - I used to be a chieftain for a Lagosi'min tribe. I was happy, had a career, had a family, settled down as chieftain. Then the Lympharians came, and attacking my clan was a member of one of the more well-established and influential tribes - Hachiiluk's tribe. It was his brother, corrupted by the Lympharians.
 * Sea Witch - ...Oh...is that why he's exiled?
 * Kanna - Yes, that's why he's exiled. My entire tribe was erased, I was left for dead and cursed with this mark, and I was angry. Really, really angry. So, I left the Isles to hunt for him, becoming a mercenary in the process.
 * Sea Witch - Huh...I'm sorry, I didn't expect this to be the case. I thought he had done something petty like stealing your money.
 * Kanna - People steal from me all the time, it's no big deal, I have no use for it so long as I can steal a meal of my own. Because I find myself unable to kill the little sod, I can't go back to the Isles, since that was my own mission. I won't be let back until that happens, like he can't be let back.
 * Sea Witch - Well, you and me can both feel Lympharians from a distance. The boy has no Lympharian influence in him.
 * Kanna - That's not the point. It was a vengeance quest, I wanted to kill him because I didn't want to feel so powerless and incapable. But I'm past that now, there's nothing left for me back at the Isles.
 * Sea Witch - ...This was a mistake of my part. Let's change subjects. What's your favorite Smeever soup flavour? I could make some more today.
 * Kanna - I do enjoy your extra spicey soup, it's the only thing that agrees with me nowadays. Brr, that's the trouble with getting old, I start losing my taste for things.

Speaking of the two, Hachi and Clothovera were a small distance away, sitting below a tree and watching the stars. Clothovera rested against Hachi and had a hand on his chest, with a comfortable expression on her face. Hachi had a hand at Clothovera's hip, looking up at the sky with a smile spread across his face as he leaned his head against the tree's trunk. He breathed faintly and quietly, yet Clothovera could feel his chest move up and down with each breath, his fluff serving as a pillow for her. And what a comfortable pillow it was. Nyakik slept by their right, while Alhazred rested against a trunk. Clothovera looked up to the sky before turning to Hachi.


 * Clothovera - Beautiful night, isn't it?
 * Hachi - Yeah, it is. All the stars in the sky, the two moons, think I even saw a couple of shooting stars. Mmm, Clotho...
 * Clothovera - This reminds me of a story my mom used to tell me.
 * Hachi - Oh? Could you tell it to me? I love stories.
 * Clothovera - There was once a witch who lived thousands of years ago. She was said to be so powerful she could reach into the moons and play with them as if they were toys. She was named Clotholaire. I was apparently named after her.
 * Hachi - Clotholaire, huh? Heh, well, you're the Clotho that does amazing things in my eyes.
 * Clothovera - Aww, you're just saying that to get me all red.
 * Hachi - Now why would I do that, hmm?
 * Clothovera - Because you're a dummy and you like to tease me.

Hachi smiled and brushed his free hand across her forehead, moving several strands of hair out of her face in order to get a better look at her. He smiled pleasantly as he observed her face, his one eye glimmering in the moon and starlight above them as he did. Clothovera's face was, in fact, all red from blushing. She smiled as well and slowly approached her face to his, closing her eyes as she did. Hachi placed a hand on her cheek and leaned inward, placing his lips to hers softly. His tail swayed side to side, his own cheeks flaring with red as they kissed, his one eye closed to enjoy and savour the moment.

Despite their passionate moment, though, something was wrong. The atmosphere became heavy, and the light of the stars and moons became dim. A dark presence surrounded the entire region, and Alhazred's eyes widened as he looked around, almost in panic. Hachi opened his eye for just a moment and pulled away softly, and glanced towards the sky with caution. The once cheery and captivated expression on his face had vanished, replaced with concern and worry. He reached for his sword and stood up onto his feet, looking around with narrowed eyes. Clothovera felt the darkness and looked around in confusion as well as anger, for having her moment ruined.


 * Clothovera - What's going on?
 * Hachi - There's a disturbance in the Source.
 * Alhazred - We must leave this place, immediately!
 * Hachi - Right. No time for questions, we'd best do as the book says.

Before they could leave, though, a large, slender shade appeared among the woods. Four blood red eyes shined on its head, while a fanged grin could be seen. A facial structure much like Alhazred's. Clotholvera yelled in fear and backed away, holding on Hachi and causing Nyakik to wake up. Hachi screamed as he looked upon the face as well, losing his composure. After getting a bizarre look from Clothovera regarding his rather effeminate scream, he blinked several times before regaining what composure he had allowed to escape and gripped ahold of his sword in both hands, glancing towards the woods with a threatening expression written upon his face.


 * Hachi - Who are you? What are you doing here and what the hell do you want?

Nyakik looked at the two in confusion before turning to the shade. She hissed in terror, her fur being launched upwards as she ran and hid behind the half-elf witch. The shade spoke, sounding tired and paused, almost like an old man, except he had a downright demonic tone.


 * ??? - Do you seek...power?
 * Hachi - Seek it? Nah. Want it? ...Well, I wouldn't mind it-- I mean no! Last time somebody asked me that my ass almost got ripped in two!
 * ??? - Heh...not you...the girl...
 * Clothovera - H-huh?
 * Hachi - ...What do you want with the girl?

The shade stepped forward, making itself visible for the two. It was unlike any creature they had seen before, having large wings and horns akin to those described to exist on vampires. Indeed, it was the very god of vampirism who stood in front of them. Clothovera's eyes widened as she recognize his physical appearance from what she had read, and she tried to keep Hachi away from him.


 * Clothovera - D-don't get close!
 * Hachi - W-Wha-- Why not?
 * Clothovera - I-i-it's...i-it's...
 * ??? - A god. A god...stands before you...
 * Hachi - Pfft! Gods, we've fought gods, and we beat them!
 * ??? - So I heard...you wounded one of Furor Abyssi's tentacles...entertaining, to say the least...allow me to present myself...I am . God of Blood. Father of vampires. Lord of Sanguine Hill.
 * Hachi - ...Oh. Y-You're... Oh. Oh, okay. Well, umm... Excuse me a moment, M-Mister Kar, I seemed t-to have shit myself.

Zran Kar approached the two and looked at them closely, before turning his head to the side, facing Alhazred.


 * Zran Kar - Ah...Alhazred...you have done well, caretaking this girl...
 * Alhazred - ...Master Zran Kar.
 * Hachi - ...You know that guy?!
 * Zran Kar - He knows me well...Alhazred is my loyal cohort...
 * Clothovera - Alhazred...why did you never tell us this?
 * Alhazred - I...urm...
 * Hachi - Go on, answer her!
 * Alhazred - I...never thought it would be relevant.
 * Hachi - ...Well it seems pretty damn relevant now, doesn't it? And-- Wait a minute, how can something as vital as that NOT be relevant!
 * Zran Kar - Enough of this. This is...not the reason I am here...Clothovera Moirai, daughter of Florigar and Chrysantheia Moirai...I have come to make a deal with you...you spoke of Witch Clotholaire, did you not?...She was my pupil...

Zran Kar turned to the skies and moved his arms. Hachi and Clothovera could clearly see the moons of Koldenwelt moving according to the Simulacrum's movements. Hachi's eye widened and he fell on his back as he watched the moons move, shaking where he had fallen. He couldn't take his eyes off of the spectacle, terrified yet amazed at what he was seeing. It was true; he was moving the moons as if they were toys, as Clothovera had said to him regarding her supposed namesake. Clothovera shivered and held on Hachi from what she saw. With his head turned to them, Zran Kar grinned.


 * Zran Kar - The power to bend...the world to your feet...the power of a master...such power that would make you...the greatest witch in history...I possess it...
 * Clothovera - G-greatest...witch?
 * Hachi - Shut your damn mouth! She isn't interested!
 * Zran Kar - Oh, I think she is...training under a mad woman who...makes her do housework...I have the power to make you a goddess in a minute.

Clothovera looked straight into Zran Kar's eyes. For reasons she could not comprehend, his voice felt...captivating. She could not break eye contact with the Simulacrum. Hachi looked to Clothovera and he growled, watching as she became caught in the Blood God's enticing glare. He waved his hand in front of her face before getting up and standing in front of her, blocking Zran Kar from her view with his arms folded.


 * Hachi - You're not serious... r-right?
 * Zran Kar - This is what...you always wanted, is it not?...To be a powerful witch...like your mother...and your grandmother...and her own mother before her...you wish to be...worthy of your name... 
 * Clothovera - I...I do...
 * Hachi - Don't listen to him, Clotho! You can do that by yourself!

Zran Kar's eyes narrowed and he swung his hand at Hachi, slapping him out of the way. Hachi yelped loudly and pathetically as he was launched from where he was standing, causing an impact against a nearby tree as he couldn't control the momentum or speed at which he flew. There was an ear-rending crack of bones as he hit the tree and slumped to the floor weakly, whimpering and sobbing. Zran Kar walked over to Clothovera and became face-to-face with her, staring at her eyes. The witch could do nothing against the demon's influence, becoming more and more lost on his grasp.


 * Zran Kar - I can grant you...the power of a master...but there is a price...abandon your witch master and friends...and become my new pupil.

At this moment, a blast of water was launched at the Simulacrum. The Sea Witch appeared, channeling magic on her hands with a frown on her face. From the trees, a combination of fire and ice spiralled towards the Simulacrum, blasting the entity with both extreme cold and overwhelming heat. Kanna emerged from the forest with his swords drawn, his eyes narrowed as he glared upon the God of Blood.


 * Kanna - Well, what do we have here then?

All of their attacks hit Zran Kar, though they all deflected away from him on contact. The Simulacrum looked at the two in humour, while the Sea Witch landed next to Kanna in a combat stance.


 * Zran Kar - What courage...to strike at Zran Kar like this...
 * Kanna - Oh great, really? Really?! Is this what we have to deal with during an apocalypse?
 * Sea Witch - Evil god or not, get the hell away from the girl!
 * Zran Kar - The girl belongs...to me now...
 * Kanna - Oh really? I'm not seeing your name on her, so I suggest you step away.
 * Zran Kar - And who will stop me?...You?
 * Alhazred - Master Zran Kar, is this really necessary? She is a mere girl, truly she can't be of use-
 * Zran Kar - What is this, Alhazred?...Are you contesting your master's wishes?...Are you worried for her?
 * Alhazred - She...she worried for my well-being...
 * Kanna - Hey we can do this the easy way or the hard way, meister. ...Ah who am I kidding, you're gonna do the hard way, they always do.
 * Clothovera - Enough.

Clothovera took a step forward, getting in the way between the Sea Witch, Kanna and Zran Kar. The demon looked at her with a visible grin on his face. Kanna tilted his head and took a step back, glaring at Clothovera with intrigue as she stepped forward. He bared his teeth as he entered thought, analyzing the situation at hand.


 * Clothovera - Zran Kar?...Can I ask you to heal Hachi?
 * Zran Kar - Hm? Of course...

Zran Kar turned over to where Hachi had crashed into and waved a hand at him, engulfing him in energy. The whole team could hear cracking sounds as Hachi's bones were put back in place and his wounds were healed. Hachi opened his one eye as he felt his body's broken bones revert back to the way it once was, and he sat up, rubbing his back with a groan and discomforted face. He took a glance towards Clothovera and Zran Kar, and he bared his teeth again, reaching for his blade as he looked upon the deity.


 * Hachi - I won't let you take her, I won't lose her again...
 * Clothovera - ...All the power I could ever want?
 * Zran Kar - Indeed...be my pupil...and you will be dearly rewarded...
 * Sea Witch - Wait, what?!
 * Hachi - Clotho!
 * Sea Witch - Girl, what the hell are you doing?! Don't tell me...you want to replace me with a demon!!
 * Kanna - Ah, crap.
 * Hachi - Clotho, don't do it!

Clothovera, at this point, was completely under Zran Kar's control. She turned to the demon, delivering him words which caused the Sea Witch to fall to her knees.


 * Clothovera - ...I accept.

Kanna stepped towards the Sea Witch and placed a hand on her shoulder, still observing the witch and the daemonic entity that stood before all of them. Hachi, on the other hand, grasped the handle of his blade tightly and he stood to his legs weakly, still adjusting to having his bones repaired, and he glared angrily towards Clothovera and Zran Kar, breathing and panting heavily.


 * Zran Kar - Magnificent...I knew you would see reason...
 * Sea Witch - Clothovera...why are you doing this? You are...like a daughter to me!
 * Hachi - You... I won't let you take her!

Clothovera turned to Hachi and extended a hand to him. He could see her eyes were blank, no longer having pupils.


 * Clothovera - Come with me, Hachi!
 * Hachi - Clotho...

Hachi looked upon Clothovera, taking a step forward as he observed her. Soon, he began to approach her, his brow lowered as he got close, watching her eyes. Kanna and the Sea Witch watched Hachi get close to Clothovera, placing his sword back into the sheath on his belt... and throwing his head forward, slamming it against hers harshly.


 * Hachi - I won't leave my friends behind, and you shouldn't either... I'll come get you myself, and when I do, I'll make sure you snap out of this... and make him pay for what he's done to you.

Clothovera yelped and held on her head in pain, taking a step back. She looked at Hachi and growled, pointing at him as well as the Sea Witch and Kanna. Nyakik slowly approached after being hidden for so long.


 * Clothovera - Fine! I don't need you! I don't need anyone here! I have a new master, one who will grant me my wishes!
 * Nyakik - Clothovera, you are being insane!
 * Clothovera - Shut up, cat! I don't need you either!

Clothovera delivered a kick to Nyakik, causing the cat familiar to screech in pain and be thrown into the floor, agonizing. Zran Kar's face showed great amusement from the scene. Hachi stepped in front of Kanna, Sea Witch, and Nyakik, as if he was defending them from harm. He had a scowl written across his face, his teeth bared angrily as he observed the scene - she had assaulted her familiar, the one that had been there for nearly all of her life. Hachi, his fists clenched and pumping with fiery blood, looked upon his once again-enemy with reddened cheeks.


 * Hachi - Well I need you. And you'd better know that I'll come get you, whatever it takes.
 * Zran Kar - I believe we are done here...shall we leave, my dear pupil?
 * Clothovera - Yes, master. I don't want to look at these for any more time.

Zran Kar laughed loudly and engulfed both himself and Clothovera in a black mist, and moments after, both of them disappeared. The dark presence in the air dissipated. Hachi, his forehead bleeding, turned to Nyakik and knelt onto a single knee. He petted Nyakik's fur gently for a moment, before he turned his head and looked directly towards the book, Alhazred, with a deathly stare that could potentially kill from the mere anger behind it. Getting up, he stomped towards Alhazred and launched his foot, kicking the book's cover and slamming it against the tree trunk it was rested upon.


 * Hachi - This is all your fault!

Alhazred screeched in pain while the Sea Witch laid down on the grass, her face into the ground.


 * Alhazred - I didn't know this would happen! I swear!

Hachi kicked Alhazred again, before reaching for his blade during his outburst. Stepping in, Kanna swiftly moved away from the Sea Witch and placed his hand on Hachi's, gripping it within his palm and disallowing him to take out the sword, restraining the Lagosi with all of the might he could muster.


 * Hachi - You don't even deserve to speak! It was you, you led him here, you let him take her away!
 * Kanna - Calm down!
 * Alhazred - Believe me, I blame myself for all this as much as you do, but I did not know of this! I have been in the Moirai family's possession for as long as I recall, I would never guess Zran Kar would come for Clothovera!
 * Hachi - You're going to help us get to wherever he's taken her, you hear me?!
 * Kanna - I said calm it!

With his strength, Kanna threw Hachi to the ground behind him and stood over him, panting quietly before taking a heavy inhale, exhaling shortly after. He looked towards Alhazred with a raised eyebrow and he picked up the tome, dusting him off and clasping him close so he wouldn't be hurt again.


 * Kanna - Pages, do you know where the big guy's taken her?
 * Alhazred - I was never informed of any of this, so I don't really know. Though, I have a theory...one which I don't like.
 * Kanna - Fire away, we can do with anything right now.
 * Alhazred - Zran Kar only has one other pupil...and that is Count Varelos von Dalverat.
 * Hachi - ...The vampire guy? ...With the Succubi?
 * Kanna - I had a feeling I wasn't gonna like this.

The Sea Witch, still with her face on the ground, let out a loud groan.


 * Alhazred - Unfortunately, our best bet right now is that...Clothovera was taken to Castle Nightshade.
 * Kanna - Then we go there, but first we'd better prepare ourselves. And pack plenty of garlic.
 * Alhazred - We will need more than garlic if we wish to oppose Zran Kar...by the looks of it, I have been discarded. However, I still cannot understand. Why would he take Clothovera of all people?
 * Hachi - Whatever the reason, we're getting her back, and we're not gonna stop. I won't let him, whether he's a god or not.
 * Sea Witch - I hate my life sometimes...

This was merely the first step of Zran Kar's plan. How, his new pupil would meet his old one...

Count of Nightshade
It was a cold, windy night at Castle Nightshade, lair of Count Varelos von Dalverat I and his. Snowstorms were extremely common all year at these mountains, but Dalverat and his vampires, being creatures of the cold, enjoyed it and made no effort to keep themselves warm. Secluded from the rest of Koldenwelt by the weather and the perilous terrain, no civilization knew Castle Nightshade's location. The common folk would even consider its existence as a legend, a bedtime story to be told to naughty children. The Count himself sat on a throne at the topmost chamber of the castle, at the back of an immense hall where a huge table could be seen. On this table, dead, bloodied men and beasts served as food for the hundreds of vampires which called Castle Nightshade home. The Count enjoyed feasting with his servants, to show equality on his Clan. By his side, his three brides, Alles, Anian and Hamoins, were always present, either feeding their Count or feeding each other lustfully. By his side was Death itself, the dreaded entity known as, who was always so loyal to the Count despite being so much more powerful than him. And serving drink to the Count was the small, hunchbacked goblin who called himself Nosfer, Dalverat's loyal Ordnung right-hand man. It was a night like all others, something that Varelos himself would never complain about.

Or at least, the night appeared to be the same as always, until a tremendous power enveloped Castle Nightshade. The vampires and the beasts in the castle grew agitated as a black aura engulfed the mountain, causing the atmosphere to become tense and heavy. Count von Dalverat left his throne and made his way to the roof of the castle, followed by Mortium and his brides. None of them, except for the Grim Reaper, could recognize this power, so immense that it was almost suffocating. Once arriving to the roof, Varelos found himself confronted by an immense shade with four red eyes and a fanged mouth. It slowly materialized itself and was revealed to be Zran Kar.


 * Zran Kar - You have come to me, child...as I expect you to.
 * Varelos - ...Lord Zran Kar? Zis is impossible.
 * Zran Kar - Fifteen thousand years have passed...since I breathed life through your bones...

The Count and his brides looked at Zran Kar with awe. Their god, their creator, stood in front of them. Many vampires soon joined their leaders and gazed upon Zran Kar's form, all falling to their knees in awe as well. Varelos laid down on one knee and faced the ground as he spoke to his creator.


 * Varelos - I am unworzhy of your presence, Blood Fazher.
 * Alles - The Blood Father in flesh...
 * Anian - Is this a dream?
 * Hamoins - I can't breath.
 * Nosfer - Amazing...
 * Mortium - ...Analuhati.

Zran Kar and Mortium exchanged glares, though either did something to cause harm on the other.


 * Varelos - Vhat may we do for you, Blood Fazher? Anyzhing you may vish for, I vill get it done.
 * Zran Kar - Anything I need?...I want you to...meet my newest pupil.

Zran Kar threw his right hand away, causing a black mist to appear by his side. Out of this mist appeared a girl in witch robes. Clothovera Moirai. The vampires all looked at her in curiosity, unsure of why such a girl would be relevant for their god.


 * Varelos - May I ask who is zis, master?
 * Zran Kar - Who...is this?...
 * Varelos - Yes, my lord. Who is zis girl?
 * Zran Kar - This girl...

Suddenly, Zran Kar swung his arm forward. It extended in size and crashed into Count von Dalverat, causing the vampire and all servants who were caught to be hurled across the roof into a wall. The vampires all yelled out in terror and backed away, while Varelos himself coughed blood as he found himself trapped on Zran Kar's grasp.


 * Zran Kar - ...is your replacement.
 * Varelos - ...Vhat? Vhat?!
 * Zran Kar - You have grown soft...grown too nice for my liking...I absorbed all relevant knowledge I could...out of a cuddly, tiny little vampire lord who thinks...living in harmony with the world is possible...
 * Varelos - Vhat are you saying, my lord?!
 * Zran Kar - Your use to me...is over, Varelos von Dalverat...this girl will take your place...as Countess of Nightshade.

The vampires all looked at their wounded master and at their god in disbelief, until they all charged at Zran Kar's direction. With their weapons and fangs ready, they attacked the mighty Simulacrum, striking and biting at his gigantic arm in an attempt to get Varelos out of his grasp. However, their weapons harmlessly bounced out of the demon's skin, and their teeth broke when trying to penetrate his hide. The only attack Zran Kar would feel would be Mortium's scythe, which struck the side of his arm, causing a ghastly blood to our out of it. Zran Kar himself, though, showed no signs of feeling pain, and instead looked at the Reaper in humour.


 * Zran Kar - Durack Domini.
 * Mortium - Leave Dalverat alone, Analuhati! I will not permit you to harm him any further!
 * Zran Kar - You being here...shows how much of a persistent pest you are.
 * Mortium - Did you forget our bet, Analuhati? The reason I am here in the first place?
 * Varelos - ...Bet? Vhat is zis, Mortium?
 * Mortium - Have you ever asked yourself why Death serves you, my Count? It's because I lost a bet to Analuhati. You were born an immortal, something the Primordial Death forbid when I was tasked control over the dead, and so I went to reap your soul on your birth. However, Analuhati fooled me and made me lose a bet to him, and as consequence, I would be forced to serve this immortal instead of destroying him.
 * Zran Kar - What I did not expect, though...was that you would end up enjoying serving under this immortal...
 * Mortium - You are the representation of knowledge, yet you know nothing of true companionship, Analuhati.

Zran Kar let out an annoyed grunt and swung his other arm, grabbing Mortium and lifting him in the air. Cracking sounds were heard as the Reaper was crushed on the vampire god's grasp, before he was thrown into the ground. Zran Kar began laughing as he moved himself closer to Varelos and, upon getting in close range, he opened his mouth and dug his demonic teeth on the vampire leader's neck. Varelos screamed in pain as his body was drained of its power. Its immortality. The vampires all tried to stop the Simulacrum, but all their efforts were useless. Upon sucking out Dalverat's power, Zran Kar walked over to Clothovera, who had remained in silence through the entire event. He smirked as he looked into her eyes.


 * Zran Kar - The gift I promised...is now ready to be given to you...
 * Clothovera - I am ready, master.

Zran Kar then dug his teeth on Clothovera's own neck. Dalverat's former energies poured into the witch's body, and her eyes shined in an intense purple. Large fangs grew on her mouth as Zran Kar turned her into a vampire herself. Mortium, using his scythe as a cane, slowly got up and challenged Zran Kar once more.


 * Mortium - What makes you believe we will accept this transgression, Analuhati? You cannot force us to follow your witch servant!
 * Zran Kar - I can...and I will...Hexus. Obedientia!

A shockwave of dark magic exploded out of Zran Kar's four eyes, engulfing the entirely of the mountain. Mortium and all vampires were thrown about, the energy invading their very souls, ordering them to obey the Simulacrum's orders. Soon, one by one, they got back up, their eyes shining in red, brainwashed into obedience. Mortium himself had infernal lights shining from his otherwise empty eye sockets, Zran Kar's powers being vast enough to affect even another Simulacrum. Clothovera looked at her new, vampiric form and smirked while Count von Dalverat remained as the only individual in the area not under Zran Kar's spell.


 * Varelos - Why do zis to us, Blood Fazher? I served your teachings my whole life...I created a future for us, and you simply throw me aside like zis...
 * Zran Kar - You do not understand yet, do you?...I don't care for your futures...all I care for is for your experiences, so that I may record them.
 * Clothovera - May I dispose of him, master?
 * Zran Kar - Do so.

Clothovera laughed and walked over to Dalverat, mocking him. The former vampire leader growled at the witch girl and grabbed his greatsword, swinging it at her direction. However, Clothovera crouched out of the way and delivered a jab to Varelos' stomach, causing him to yell out in pain and cough more blood from his mouth. In an upward arm movement, Clothovera hit Varelos with dark magic and sent him to the floor. All of his power, all of his strength, now laid on Clothovera's very fingers. She grabbed the Count by his throat and, with a swing, threw him out of Castle Nightshade's roof. The Count pummeled down, screaming and disappearing in the darkness. The vampires all chanted for their new Countess while Zran Kar's form dissipated, turning into mist across the wind. The Nightshade Clan was now under new management, and would bring a new era of dark upon the world.

Family Matters
Days have passed, entire day and night cycles passing by. It was midnight currently, and the stars could be seen from the peaks of the ancient Kalcedan Mountains, located within the northern territories of the. Consistent snowfall and wild animals meant that industrialization and urbanization projects had been largely ceased for a prolonged amount of time, although the Kalcedan Mountains did support a system of interconnected villages and homes, established in the colossal faces of the mountains and supported by strong rope bridges. At the center of one of these bustling communities was one of the larger and much more influential landmarks, a place renowned globally for a variety of reasons. The Kalcedan Mountains was home to Koldenwelt's most well-accomplished and prosperous brothel - La Petite Mort, which by itself encompassed the size of a village. A long set of stairs were to be climbed if one wished entrance to this wondrous place of carnal enlightenment, and money was the key to the treasure within for most others. The snowfall began to grow stronger and violent, with clothed elven guards watching the steps, unflinching. A fugure, cloaked from his head to feet, approached the stairs and slowly made his way upward. His rugged robes swung with the wind, and he used a cane to walk, stumbling as he did. It was clear that this person was far taller than any elf who lived in the region. The elven guards approached the cloaked figure, their weapons in hand although not at the ready. One of them spoke out with concern - a female voice, she was a woman.


 * Guard - Sir, are you faring well? Have you become lost from your path?
 * Figure - I...I need...shelzher...for ze night...
 * Guard - Right, let's get you inside, out of the cold. You must be freezing, sir.
 * Figure - Thank you...k-kind woman.

The guards stood beside the figure to his sides and assisted him in ascending the steps, ensuring he did not fall or stumble as they approached the entrance to La Petite Mort, where they could all hear loud, blaring noise escaping from the establishment, including sounds such as laughter and suggestive, almost romantic music. The figure looked around from under his cloak, confused and somewhat stunned by the noise.


 * Figure - Vhat is this place...?
 * Guard - La Petite Mort, sir. You never heard of this place?
 * Figure - I haven't, I don't zhink...I merely came here...because I need a place to sleep.
 * Guard - Then you're lucky, sir. This place serves as shelter for all, hermits, orphans, refugees, the likes.
 * Figure - Refugees? Then I zhink I will fit-

The figure began coughing loudly, falling one knee into the floor as he did. A dried dust came out of his mouth and his hands were uncovered by his cloak, revealing long, skinny, almost skeletal fingers. It was obvious that this individual had not eaten in days. The guard that had spoke out to him widened her eyes as she saw his claws and knelt down onto her knee with her companion, lifting the figure to his feet and urging themselves to get inside, out of the cold. The guard told herself that she had pretended to see the dust emerge from the figure's mouth, but the image was set firmly within her mind.

The group entered through the doors that led into the brothel, and before the figure's eyes, he could see the establishment for what it was; massive crowds of people, both male and female, gathered around stages and waited in lines leading to chambers at the end of stairs that travelled either upwards or downwards, and the figure's nostrils were filled with the smell of rich smoke and sexual musk. The figure sniffed the air until he sneezed, nearly falling forward as he did. He clang into the guard who helped him and looked at her direction.


 * Figure - May I please have...water?
 * Guard - Certainly, sir. Hey you, waitress! Give us that water!

The waitress that the guard called out to held some food and pints of ale and other drinks on various platters, balancing them in her arms, on her palms, and even one upon her head. She appeared half-elvish as she got closer, her blonde hair flowing as she walked and her bust bouncing. Reaching out, the guard took one of the drinks from the trays that the girl held and passed it to the figure, assisting him as he held it. The cloaked man reluctantly drank the water, contorting his hidden face as he did. He hated drinking water, but it was better than nothing.


 * Guard - Would you like some food, sir?
 * Figure - Yes, please...do you have fresh flesh-I mean...do you have meat?
 * Guard - Of course we do, I hope you don't mind Smeever.

With that, the guard left his side, leaving him with her companion, who happened to have been male and showed no interest in the cloaked figure, his eyes fixated on one of the stages; there were showgirls and whores dancing and toying with one another in front of these many crowds, touching and embracing one another lustfully. The figure ignored the girls, showing no interest in them. All he wanted was something to fill his stomach. As the cloaked figure kept his eyes to the ground, unfazed by the women around him, something captured his eye suddenly - approaching him was a tall, generously-chested elvish woman, her attire red and skimpy as she walked towards the cloaked figure. Her face, attractive and unbelievably irresistable, wore a cold, almost judgemental expression across it.


 * ??? - You.
 * Figure - ...Yes?
 * ??? - Come vith me. Now.
 * Figure - Uh?...For vhat purpose?
 * ??? - You vill find out soon. But for now, just do as I say.
 * Figure - Well...okay...

The elven woman grabbed ahold of the figure's wrist and stomped through the crowd, shoving and gently sliding between the mass of people with an unchallenged elegance, moving surprisingly swiftly. After penetrating the lustful crowd, she approached what appeared to be an early variant of an elevation system, with a stripped, almost completely bare nude human standing beside a lever. Exchanging nods, the elf woman stood within the elevator with the cloaked figure, and the human pulled the lever in circular motions, allowing the chains hooked up and connected to the elevator carriage to move, causing the two individuals to ascend upward. After several minutes, the elevator stopped, and the elf woman kept a firm hold of the figure's wrist, approaching a pair of regal, ornate-looking doors at the far end of the hall.

The figure groaned quietly as he was dragged, feeling pain from the woman's grabbing of his wrist. As the woman approach the doors, as if they were pushed by an invisible entity, they opened outwards towards them, with bizarre, ethereal smoke pouring forth from the room within that was both rich and pleasant to the figure's nostrils. When the mist began to clear, it revealed a rather large office-like room, complete with a floor of bricks, each individual unit being inscribed with numerals, and various other rather chilling options of furnishing; bookcases behind a rather large desk of the darkest mahogany, filled to the absolute brim with archaic and primeval texts and literatures, several skulls sporting lit candles, riddled with wax, rested upon the edge of her desk, an organ resided at the far right side of the room, and at the far left, several doors leading to other chambers. Hanging from above was plentiful cages, empty and suspended in a ghastly, haunting manner.

The figure looked around, impressed by what he was seen, before looking down and coughing again, more dust coming out of his being. The doors shut behind them as the elf woman let go of the figure's wrist and approached her desk, slamming her hands onto it without turning to face the figure. She let out a long, heavy groan afterward, shaking her head in an almost disappointed fashion.


 * ??? - Vhy did you come here, of all places you could have gone?
 * Figure - I have novhere left to go...it was either here, or sleep in the street...again.
 * ??? - Zhen you should have slept in the streets.
 * Figure - Vhy? Vhy treat me like zis, a man vith no home or direction?

The elvish woman turned and raised an arm, moving her hand to cover her face. Within moments, the elvish woman vanished, dissipating into little more than sparkling speckles of dust. Standing in her place, was somebody that appeared familiar to the figure, a beautiful and enticing, yet sinful and daemonic, creature, a cold, emotionless display written across her face like a page. It was a Succubus, a red Succubus.


 * Figure - ...I see. He guided me here to die...
 * Succubus - Get on your knees, for you stand wizhin zhe abode of zhe Red Countess, and in her very presence, svine. And once you have done zhat, I vish for you to show me your pazhetic face.
 * Figure - Show my face for vhat?...You vere sent to slay me, vere you not? Zhen get it over vith.

The figure reached his hand to his hipa nd took out a large, rusted greatsword, which he threw on the floor in front of the Succubus.


 * Figure - End my pain, whoever you are.

The Succubus growled and approached the figure, stepping over his greatsword and folding her arms beneath her bosom, which bounced and jiggled excitedly with each step she took. Her tail swaying in an agitated manner, she leaned forward slightly and pierced his eyes with her cold glare, and spoke out once again, baring her fangs.


 * Succubus - Get on your knees, fazher.
 * Figure - Fazher? I am fazher of no one. I have lost all my children to him. I can't even recall zheir names...zheir faces...nozhing...
 * Succubus - Zhen you do not remember zhe one child who you had once adored and raised... before exiling her from your lands? Never to see her kin again, lest she risk death? You do not remember zhe name of ?

The figure's eyes widened as old memories returned to his mind. He looked at the Succubus in disbelief, as if he did not believe her words. Stepping forward, the Succubus stretched out and grasped ahold of the cloak that hid his face and body from her freezing sight. Clenching the robes within her grasp, she pulled back fiercely, tearing the cloak from the figure's form and launching it to the far side of the room, out of her and his sight. Her crimson, bloody eyes remained static, staring at the man that stood before her. Varelos von Dalverat stood before her, though she looked nothing like she remembered. His clothing was reduced to trash, his ribcage clearly visible on his malnutrited form, his stomach contrated back from not having eaten anything for days. His former robust muscles looked skeletal, and one of his eyes was blank and half closed, clearly blinded. The mighty bat demon Dragostea knew was reduced to a rat in two legs. Dragostea stared, observing and analyzing his new form over and over, eventually having to take a step backwards. Her face changed ever so slightly, showing perhaps, concern, or worry. Or upset.


 * Varelos - Dragostea?...I remember zat name...it fills me vith grief.
 * Dragostea - It should. You and your vhore vife zhreatened me vith exile, and zhus, I vas exiled. You stand in my home, zhe very office I vork vithin.
 * Varelos - Vife?...I had a vife?...Cease trying to make me feel vorse, pawn of Zran Kar.
 * Dragostea - You dare call ME a pawn? ...Vhat had happened to you, fazher? You have fallen vithout me.
 * Varelos - You know vell vhat happened. You are all Zran Kar's pawns now. He took over your minds and turned you all into slaves.
 * Dragostea - Vhat are you blabbering about? I am no pawn. I am not here to kill you, Varelos.
 * Varelos - Zhen vhat are you? A ghost sent to torment me? To remind me of my past sins? To remind me how much I regret exiling Dragostea, my third daugzher? To make me vish I could go back and stop myself from doing zat?! Zat is one of the few zhings I remember! Everyzhing else is blank!

Varelos dug his claws on his own face as he began growing more restless, dust coming out of his wounds. This dust was in fact his own blood, which had dried out. Dragostea growled and stepped forward, swinging her hand across Varelos' face with a clean, swift swipe that knocked him to the floor. The room began to grow colder, Dragostea staring down at her father with icy eyes before raising her wrist to her lips, which she licked for a second. She proceeded to sink her two fangs deeply into her wrist, deep enough to draw blood, before pulling back and showing the wound to Varelos, stepping towards him again.


 * Varelos - You bleed?...Are you real? Dragostea...is zat you?
 * Dragostea - I am no ghost, Varelos. It really is I, Dragostea, and zhis is my home. If you do not believe, zhen feel free to drink from zhis very wrist. Not zhat you deserve it.
 * Varelos - Dragostea...after so many years, you endured on your own...
 * Dragostea - Vith no zhanks to you. Vhere vere you vhen I needed you? Vhere vere you vhen I vas cold, alone, and hunted by ozhers?

Varelos looked at her daughter in complete shame of himself. He shut his eyes as he coughed, tears forming on his eyes.


 * Varelos - You have every right in ze vorld to hate me...take that blade. Zat is Bertonius' Demise, the sword holding ze souls of slain Drow vampire hunters...pierce it through my heart and end zis all.

Dragostea approached, wrapping her long, cold fingers beneath her father's chin and lifting his face so he could see her, so he could look into her eyes. She had grown to become beautiful flourishing, yet he could see that she had ice hidden within her heart, frozen. She kept her eyes focused on his, leaning her face in - he could see her bloodied fangs, her lower lip glistening with her blood.


 * Dragostea - You have fallen from grace, reduced to begging and crying like a baby. I vould razher have you live wizh zhat shame zhan kill you for it, even if it is zhe only zhing you remember. You are svine.
 * Varelos - If you won't end my life, zhen I will do zat myself.
 * Dragostea - I vill not let you.

Dragostea leaned in, her eyes left open, and placed her lips to Varelos'. Her tongue, long and serpentine, slithered into her father's mouth and while it stretched she took the chance to stab it with her fangs, letting blood spill onto her father's own tongue. She kept him there, her hand resting upon his chin, as she fed him blood, satiating at least partially his thirst in this display, blood dripping at their feet. Varelos' working eye widened and he shook himself, trying to push Dragostea away but having no strength to do so. She continued to embrace and passionately kiss him for several minutes longer, passing her blood unto him, before she eventually pulled away, her chin drenched and bloodied with crimson red. Taking a step back, she licked at the blood on her chin while keeping her eyes on her father, and placed a firm foot on his greatsword so it stayed where it was; on the floor. Varelos remained in the floor, in shame, covering his eyes with his hands.


 * Varelos - I cannot handle zis suffering. Zis torture. I lost you, I lost your sisters, I lost Castle Nightshade to zat damned Zran Kar and his vitch pet. I vill travel south and deliver myself to Akharav. I do not deserve your blood. I do deserve to touch your sultry skin again.
 * Dragostea - No, you vill not. You vill stay here, as you had planned. Zhis is not a prison, fazher, zhis is a sanctuary. And all, even you, are velcome to it. As much as you have betrayed me, as much as you have earned my distrust, you are still my fazher. And ve are still Dalverat.
 * Varelos - Dragostea...please, do not insult yourself. You are much bezher zhan any Dalverat could hope to be.
 * Dragostea - Maybe, but zhe point still szands; I am Dalverat, and you are Dalverat. Zhat makes us family, by blood.

Varelos slowly got up, looking at his daughter. His face still showed shame, and he appeared reluctant to do any actions. Moments passed, though, and he stepped forward, putting his hands around Dragostea in an embrace.


 * Varelos - I remember your mozher now...she is an idiot.

His daughter's eyes stayed static, feeling Varelos' emaciated, skeletal body press against her succulent, delicious flesh. She stood there for several moments with Varelos hugging her, albeit weakly due to his strength, and she awkwardly placed her arms up and her hands on Varelos' back, patting his spine with uncertain motion, as if he was alien to this. She sniffed a single sniff, but her tear had remained hidden, outside at least.


 * Dragostea - Fazher... 
 * Varelos - If you really vant me to survive, then tell me vhere I can sleep. The vorst place of zis brothel, if you vish. Though, knowing you, I would not be surprised if zis building has no vorst place.
 * Dragostea - You may sleep vizhin zhe stables of zhe snow steeds. At least zry not to kill zhem.
 * Varelos - Like I can kill anyzhing in zis state... It should amuse you, Dragostea. Your fazher is now an exile. Exiled by ze god he followed all his life. Reduced to a mortal, powerless, sickly version of himself, replaced by a girl who I have never even seen before.
 * Dragostea - It does amuse me. It amuses me greatly. But zhe joke must come to an end, and I vill return you to vhere you belong, Varelos. To your zhrone, fondling my aunts and mozher and staying away from trouble.
 * Varelos - I do not deserve it. Point me vhere zese stables are.

Dragostea kept her stone-cold glare and leaned inward, taking a second to lick Varelos' lip as it dripped with but a speck of her blood. She whispered, her voice ascending in its exhilerating and sexually exciting tone as she did, even if she was not saying anything pertaining to such carnal nature.


 * Dragostea - Zhe basement floor, ask one of my many serfs to take you zhere.

Varelos grabbed his cloak and sword from the floor and dressed himself again, for his appearance would otherwise alert all within the brothel of his nature as a vampire. He turned around and walked away from Dragostea, but before he could leve the room, he stopped to speak one more thing before proceeding.


 * Varelos - Good night...daugzher.
 * Dragostea - Sleep vell...fazher.

Divine Sacrament
In the far south of the world, among the mountains of almost god-like height, the Void Fortress known as Akharavzund had sat in dormant sleep for many thousands of years. The fortress itself had been on Koldenwelt for nearly as long as mortal life had, for three hundred thousand years it had served as a vast citadel and fortress for Void Denizens who hid in the deep chasms of the Southern Mountains. Akharavzund itself was built nearly five and a half thousand metres in the walls of the mountains, and for most mortal men, such a height proved a fatal experience due to the cold and the thin air. The bridge which had served as part of a magnificently ominous entrance spanned for over two hundred metres, almost fifteen metres wide, and arched over a fall so deep that darkness and incessant blizzards of the mountainous landscape had obscured the true depths entirely. Frozen corpses were suspended from the bridge and from the front walls of the fortress, of enemies, as a testament to the inhabitants' brutality. For fifteen thousand years however, an Orichalcum Elf known only now as Akharav had made it his home. However, he did not know that even after a hundred and seventy thousand years of ruin, that the fortress' magic was still incredibly powerful. The consciousness of the Adversary had stirred like an animate shadow upon the walls for millennia beyond counting, and whispered terrible words into Akharav's ears.

Because of this, Akharav was a believer of the dark god - frequently, the temple complex within the fortress of Akharavzund was his place of worship. Scriptures of the Chaosphere Tongue had survived the sack of the fortress conducted by Kinmorunddraver, and Akharav himself converted such scripture into chants. He chanted these ancient words in a mantra, long and dissonant as if it were some kind of alien music. Indeed, an alien energy could be felt surging through the place as if it were like wind or even breath, passing across the walls of the temple that were engraved with stories and language unintelligible to even Akharav.

It was not until the spring of 32 NA, though in Akharavzund such heights defined perpetual winter, did Akharav receive word from the powers he served for thousands upon thousands of years. Such a being that appaeared to him within the temple, so ancient that Akharav was diminished with its presence. What this being was seemed almost angelic in the lore of the void - an archangel perhaps - however it was an entity of such nature that one could not define its gender. It had a toned appearance commonly defined with males, yet such toned appearance was sleek in feminine physique. Hair escaped its ornate and rusted helm, though a mouth devoid of lips, crowned with teeth sharper than that of daggers. Its name was Makkarast - the void of the Adversary himself - the greatest of the seven 'great hosts' of the void - Attrast, Uttrav, Sentreval, Ahedris, Tasarys and Isaernys were the rest. Akharav knew of this being only as second to the Adversary himself, and knelt before this manifestation of which brought with it auroral light, as red as the blood of men and as vivid as the fires of hell.


 * Makkarast - Aurelius Camillus Gallus Octavianus, Lord Akharav, Consumer of the Cosmos, Servant of His Divine Sphere of Akharavzund. For He lends you His ears, and you shall lend Him your soul.
 * Akharav - ...I am the most humbled of servants of His divine gaze. What does the Demiurge of the Four Strata require of my soul?
 * Makkarast - The time has come. Fifteen millennia of waiting has granted us great opportunity. Great sleep has ceased, and dreams once conceptual shall be realised. Realms shall become godless. Dead. Ceased. It has already begun, and you, shall carry His Divine Sphere of Akharavzund to appease His will.
 * Akharav - ...To appease?
 * Makkarast - He commands you, to carry His Divine Sphere of Akharavzund to the realms of Sanguine Hill...and Underworld. Shall these realms die, shall death die itself. Godless Realms of the dead and undying...shall grant Him power over the living without question.
 * Akharav - ...Sanguine Hill...Zran Kar...Dalverat...His words command me with mutual desire to destroy them both!
 * Makkarast - And such desires shall be fulfilled. For He wishes Zran Kar and Durack to drift soullessly in the darkness of Nothing.
 * Akharav - This shall be done. With great eagerness and satisfaction in His name.

For Akharav, slaying Varelos von Dalverat was something that he had greatly desired. To him, Dalverat was an inferior vampire - though, in most cases, Akharav was not even a vampire of conventional nature; Akharav was not stayed by sunlight, garlic, or silver - the powers of the void had granted him a kind of immortality that could have only been cast upon with a pact with the Adversary himself. Akharav would have thought it so that he was his master's champion to destroy the champion of his enemy's master - now that his opportunity was open, Akharav could only oblige. However, the angel Makkarast was not finished with his command.


 * Makkarast - The Great One also requires you, to obey His next command. The eyes of His enemy no longer looks favourably upon his champion; cast out into the darkness of isolation, replaced...with another. Your enemy, this...Dalverat...is no longer favoured. He is now sentenced to the biterness of mortality, to die as mortals do.
 * Akharav - I would have much preferred it if my enemy was challenge.
 * Makkarast - And die? You forget the time of when you had slain his bride? This is no more an opportune moment as you require.

Akharav sighed. Such an event was still clear in his memory, even when it happened two thousand years ago.


 * Akharav - I...shall enjoy making him scream.
 * Makkarast - This command has not yet been given. You are yet to slay your enemy, and you are to slay his new champion. His enemy's new champion is a girl. A human half-breed. Immortality has granted her the powers to face you in combat. Yet, with your Divine Sphere, you shall find it...trivial to slay her too. But you are not alone in your endeavour to draw her power from this castle. Her friends; two Lagosi, and a Bizargar, wish to return her to the safety of her friends.
 * Akharav - And these...mortals. They shall be slain?
 * Makkarast - The great word of His voice demands it. Beware. As a combined force, they are formidable. Do not underestimate them. Even with your Divine Sphere.
 * Akharav - What...what shall be my reward?
 * Makkarast - Your life.

Akharav was, with his eyes glaring, disgusted with even the very description of Clothovera. Even as an Orichalcum Elf, he demanded and controlled blood purity with murderous zeal, and his ghostly blood now running through his veins were running through quickly. The angel Makkarast had disappeared, in a plume of black fog which had dissipated in the darkened halls of Akharavzund's temple. He made no preparation, however, grasping the void matrix situated in the midst of the temple, he covered it in a darkened robe, and then his sword of great and vicious power, rested against the arch of the temple's entrance. He felt the very influence of his master surge through his body as immense power entered it. Marching from the boundaries of Akharavzund, he walked half way across the colossal bridge of the fortress' entrance. Stopping in his tracks, Akharav was to cast a spell. Using his sword to channel the magic, an incantation was heard from his voice, demonic and powerful as it was, to summon a steed. His master had, out of his intention to use Akharav, a creature of horse-like quality from the void. It blasted out of the darkness, a portal woven by Akharav's blade. Its face was thin, almost too thin for a horse to bear, yet it was black, like charred rock. From its joints, and with every breath it took, a crimson flame swirled to to the skies. For this was Janos' steed before his ascension to the very avatar of Akharav's master. Taking to mount the steed, the clasped the reins of the dark creature and leant in; the creature making its way to the north of Castle Nightshade with such speed unparalleled.