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Post by nightreflection on Feb 14, 2012 16:27:46 GMT -5
Part XC This wasn't quite what he had in mind when she'd asked for a service, but that's what you get when you're desperate. Oren's departure had seemed to coincide with an unusually jovial mood on Victor's part. Probably just coincidence. Then a few weeks later one of the four inheritors of his fortune offered them a deal. The hunters had been given a small slice of the four pies, as part of the handover conditions. It was next to nothing compared to what the big four were earning, but even such a small slice was a huge monthly boost. All they had to do was stay away from the factories. Strange, most donations requested extra protection. He couldn't argue. That side of town was a lot tamer. They probably had their own ways of dealing with it. So he had been terribly surprised when Miss Grebes had offered even more. Their coffers had never looked healthier, but even so, the battle against the tide was never won. They were always on the edge. Occasionally they would lose a hunter and the grim reality would sink in. One wrong move and it could all be over. And yet, here they were, at her request. Deeper in the woods than they had ever been, but she seemed to know exactly where she was going. They nervously huddled around her, but it had been surprisingly quiet. There had been movement, but it seemed nothing was interested in the whole gang at once.
She'd seen it in his mind, this place. Some areal maps along with scraps of the journey had helped her pinpoint it. “Wait here” she said. It was a gamble, but she was armed, and she doubted there would be trouble this close. “But Miss Grebes, you won't see them coming.” “I know the risks Mr Vanjulian. Nothing risked, nothing gained, now don't move unless I call.” “Yes ma'am” he said apprehensively.
Laura strode off down the path for half a minute. Nothing. There was nothing here. It should be right there. She went livid, “I didn't come all this way for nothing, let me in or so help you...” She stormed back to the hunters. Half way a mind tingled on the edge of her senses. She stopped and turned. There it was. She carefully approached and opened the door. Looking around she entered. Her heart jumped. This was it. “Good morning miss, before we continue I should warn you, we do not usually serve human customers.” She looked at him and then slowly removed the necklace from under her blouse. Oh. She projected an image of starting magic. She got back an image of demon coins. It had a sad hint of disappointment. Laura whipped her backpack off. Coins clunked on the desk. The cat proceeded to strangle itself and pass out. It then stood up. It was.. different somehow. Carefully it picked out a book on runes and the entire learning series of books. No, I want the same book as him. There is only one of those books, you will need to speak to him. Her frustration was obvious. She was so desperate to get ahead. She didn't hate him any more, but she wanted to prove herself, to outdo him in just one area, to scupper his perfectly laid plans just once. Just once to be one-up on him. You won't catch that one. It was laughing. He's dead and deadicated. She grabbed the books and stormed. Well. Into the floor. Perhaps something for the road? As she dusted herself off. A levitation glyph, no, perhaps I can interest that extra coinage in something, a bit more discreet. It was expensive, but Laura smiled slyly as she placed her books in the pouch. It was so tiny and unnoticeable. Each book vanished as she held it above the pouch. She peeked inside. There they were, tiny little things. She left with a little of her gold and a lot of joy. This would help put Oren in his place. She got half way up the path and turned. It was gone. She smiled and headed back to the worried camp of hunters. There were no changes other than the lighter backpack. It looked like what she was doing there would remain a secret. They left, hastily. ***Helps if I log in before I try posting! The problem with nurturing someone is... well, if you're not careful they end up better than you! ;D Ref 126-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 21, 2012 16:35:25 GMT -5
XCI Months passed. Slowly Miss Grebes sunk herself into her studies. She sometimes found it hard to pull herself away. But she couldn't let on what she was doing. The kittykat had given her an extra few books Oren hadn't had. Simple magic, no explanation of how it worked, just handy spells. They sped things up greatly, mainly by taking care of the little things, so making more time. She was doing a little walk to clear her mind when she saw a familiar tail waggling from around a corner. It was one of Charby's friends. One who'd helped kill her parents. She felt nothing for them any more. Yes. Yes this would do nicely. After all, she didn't want to end up his spawn. She grabbed the tail and pulled. The yelp was cut short as it saw a gun pressed to it's head. It opened its mouth, and then shut it again. “I know who you are doggie, now come with me nicely. I can draw this baby faster than you think.” Menu regrettably walked in front. He did not enjoy it. As they got through the gates he chimed “Ok lady, what's your beef, what do you want with me, I mean, if you'd wasted me in the alley, no-one would have given it two thoughts.” She put her hand under his chin and put her face dangerously close to his. “You, my dear boy, and you are going to help me.” Menu would have gone for her, but he realised there was something cold pressed against his stomach, and decided that he'd like to keep his pride and joy. She chained him to a post. He felt so humiliated. Some sort of enchanted chain. About an hour later she returned. She smelled like steak! Menu started drooling and straining at the pole. She'd read him from the moment she'd seen him. She was kind of relieved actually. There had been no malice or hatred from him in her parent's death, he was just having fun. It was strangely better that way, although she doubted her sanity. Oren had twisted her mind so. She tapped the straining mutt on the nose. You are going to turn me dear boy. The boy twisted and strained on the rope, growling and snarling. “sssnrrrr Neverrrr grrrrRWAR!' Her voice became quietly seductive, “If you do it I'll give you all of this..” and with that she silently slid open the door to reveal a table heaped high with meat, some raw, some cooked. Pork, beef, lamb, chicken.. Menu went absolutely wild. He calmed down after a minute. Sat on his haunches and whimpered. “Ok, ok you win.” She gave him her hand. Pain flowed through her hand, it burned in her veins. Her head felt like it was going to explode, then slowly, it faded. It was three quarters, and day after all. She undid the leash and watched him go. He lay on the table after five minutes, too full to move. “Well my little puppy.. I am trying to pull a fast one on Oren here, so do me a favour and don't tell him.” She put her finger on his nose. “Do that for me and I'll feed you like this every Monday at seven. Deal?” “Lady, you have a deal!” then he belched loudly. Slowly her attention was drawn from her sire. She smelt the meat and caught herself salivating. She ran for the pantry knowing she had spare. Her sire joined her. She burst into the room and tore open one of the fridges, greedily swallowing raw chunks. Her sire was next to her and they fought over it, but it was fun. Raw meat. she would be sick later. But it tasted so good. Everything was so much more fun. It smelt better, looked better. She could smell her perfume. Even her sire's breakfast. She didn't care if she was a mongrel, this was a life worth living. ***Dagnabbit, lost her. *snapfingers* Hehe, sux to be you Oren! Ref 127-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 25, 2012 14:45:52 GMT -5
Part XCII Elizabeth had gotten close. She'd almost found what was rotten with this town. She'd tracked down the scent of something. She couldn't tell what. The clues were so carefully laid but there was something about them, something familiar. She had been on the verge of finding the culprit for weeks and then her father had visited. They had almost stopped the party, but they had been just a little too late. The shame would have been unimaginable if her father hadn't been there to vouch for her. A blade snapped out of its case and she stepped over to inspect the damage. The vermin's dark aura was fading as she removed the dagger. “Nice little trick that. But I never favour releasing my weapons.” “Yes father. Perhaps I should carry something smaller. Stars or a gun like Andrew.” “That would be wise. This new path is strong, but it must be refined by the elders.” “Indeed, come, let us leave this place for more privacy.” Slowly the bat crawled over to the shadows, like a wounded bird. “Harharhar, she got you Oren! “ The bat grew and groaned. “Ugh, the poison.” He cast a complex spell and burst into flames. A few minutes later a healing boosted his body's reformation. The poison destroyed or removed. “You really taught her well. So, how long before she's not an ally?” “Well, I suppose it's a bit late. I had an idea, but it's too risky.” “For the light!” “I told you they would not let go easily.” father said, relishing outwitting the undead once again. “You!” Even Elizabeth was caught off guard. “What then was your meaning in teaching me? Did you expect loyalties? HA! Die fiend.” A shots rang out as her father released a slew of silver but it was too late. They bounced of one of several wards Oren had put up. Elizabeth's graceful arc was caught by a bilge hook. They attacked with ferocity. Elizabeth gaining ground slowly against Charby and her father falling back against Oren. The hunters nodded and switched targets. Elizabeth would keep the superior fighter at bay until father had destroyed the weakling. Then they would have the advantage. Only. Charby wasn't the weaker fighter. A clatter-clang of metal and father called the retreat. He'd been lucky to escape with his life. How had this happened? Clearly Elizabeth was not the superior fighter. She was struggling against Oren and she glimpsed the subtleties of a trap as he leapt free of the battle. He could hear her behind him. They ran for the docks. Never had they been in such peril. “I suppose we could turn the old man. He has valuable experience.” “We don't know him well enough. He may simply fight us or worse. No, she was the only one, and now all our work, ugh, she's too close, it's too late. Let me show you my failure.” He looked into sire's eyes. The boosted telepathic connection showed his plan, and how it had failed. How he had underestimated, overestimated, and simply been to ambitious. Something was wrong. Sire was grinning. “I said it's too risky sire.” “No it's not. You forget I know people. This isn't a gamble, it's a sure thing. Trust me.” Sometimes he forgot sire was his better. He didn't like to interfere so Oren rarely got the benefit of centuries of experience. Oren's face lit up with surprise. He was stunned. Slowly his joy turned and an evil grin eclipsed his face. He laughed, louder and louder until the world shook. “Let's do this.” They flew towards the docks and landed just as their prey were breaking for the boat. A phone call ahead and it was departing. “Come my daughter, we shall return for them.” They sprinted across the worn stone towards the small cruise ship. A boosted jump and he was on the ship. He turned weapon drawn to fend the devils off. His eyes widened in shock as he saw his precious daughter. She was hammering against air and shouting without a voice. Tears of desperation and terror flowed down her precious face as she panicked. He gripped the rail and leapt. She reached out her arm in desperation and let out one final scream as an invisible force knocked him back into the ship. Darkness embraced him before he could fight it. She was still hammering at magic barrier when Charby hit her over the back of the head with the soft side of the hook. As the light faded she saw the ship moving out. Her last line of hope...unconscious. Oren stepped out of the shadows. Tenderly he picked her up. A cab took her to the old house. A few minutes and the portal hummed before him. *** I reeeeally enjoyed writing this bit. Not as much as the inevitable next bit. muha, Muhaha, WAHAHAHA! ref 128-
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Post by nightreflection on Feb 28, 2012 17:06:50 GMT -5
Part XCIII She woke in silence. The room was small and barren. She had her armour, but her weapons were all gone. She sat on the edge of the bed. The Mauriello got up and began looking for weaknesses, or would have, but she had been broken. It had been so traumatic. They had left her a loose robe. They probably meant to keep her as a regular meal. Maybe they would be arrogant enough to turn her, but Oren probably new better. Oren. She had trusted him. There was no option of escape, and the note threatening to change her manually was probably genuine. There was a meal-replacement drink at the end of the room. She tested it with magic, no tricks. So it was as a food source? Well, that was good. She could bide her time and break out. Besides, they would be back for her. Her family would not take this lightly. She sat down to rest. She fell into a sleep and woke up to find her armour had been removed. She did not know how long she had slept. What was the time, where was she?
It wasn't long before Oren came for her. His face was pale, fanged. Red eyes pulled her gaze. She wondered how long he'd been like this. His face betrayed no emotion as he lead her away. There was no need for bonds, there was nowhere for her to go. Vampire castles were traditionally crawling with traps. She could attack, but from what she'd seen, weaponless, her victory was unlikely. She would bide her time.
The room stank of blood. There was none in it, but she could sense it, somehow. She resisted as Oren chained her to the floor, but her struggles were in vain. Her eyes opened wide in terror as Oren's blood flowed into the stone runes on the floor. Not this she thought. She did not know what ritual they would use her life force for, but the thought of her blood being turned against her family wounded her. She wanted so much to leave this dark dead place. She wanted the sun, the wind, the warmth of her mother's arms. She looked at Oren though her misery but he seemed to be oblivious. As she cried her heart out he just sat there, an air of sadness around him. The Mauriello expected this, began categorising, looking for an escape. But it was a faint whisper now, all her training faded to the back of her mind.
Oren stood up and began chanting. Her heart raced with fear as the runes began to glow. The child appeared in the doorway and made his way over. He pulled out a tiny obsidian dagger and began to cut.
She screamed. After a time she promised him anything to stop the pain, but he continued, oblivious. Slowly her life flowed from her, into the runes onto the floor. Sometime during it all she felt something settle on her, and evil presence perhaps, she was in no condition to tell. It felt like an eternity before the monster sunk his teeth into her heart. She cried as she embraced death gladly. Such a coward, such a disgrace to her family. ***Poor thing. The most dangerous strategies let you think you're in control. ref 129-
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 3, 2012 3:27:59 GMT -5
PartXCIV The world faded into existence. The light was... off. No...No. This could not be. A tear formed in her eye, her mind started slipping. She wanted to laugh, but it wasn't funny. A hand reached out and gently turned her chin to face it. It was Oren. He had his human face on. She felt her conscious mind beginning to lose its grip. She was laughing, but is sounded a bit like hiccups. “No Elizabeth. No. Hold on to your mind. For my sake. For the sake of Mauriello. Let go and you will truly become the monster you hate.”
He left her to herself. She did not weep. She teetered on the edge of sanity, barely clinging to it. Her disturbed thoughts snaked across the room and curled through the door. “I want to help her.” Charby was crying. “I know sire.” Oren was sad, “but we both know where that will end. With sire attachment she will become nothing but a soulless minion. She will love you above all. Jealously. She will lose her will to live. She won't be able to think. Is that really what you want?” “I just want to end her suffering.” he wailed. “Time sire, time, we must be careful with this one. Already the Mauriello fights what I have taught her. The vampire has joined in now and in the middle is a scared little girl curled up in the crossfire. We must be careful here, we are messing with blood heritage. Maybe a meal to take your mind off it?” “I'd rather she had it.” “You know better sire. She needs to face this. It's not like the others. Although maybe we should have left Lance to stew for a few hours too.” “I don't like doing this Oren, I'm sorry you ever talked me into it.” “With all due respect. Don't be an idiot! You'll be glad when she's adapted and you know it.” Charby punched him in the groin, but he knew he was right.
A few hours later the door opened and Oren stepped in, quietly. He was wearing his human face. He longed to comfort her. But right now he could only hurt her, so he kept his distance. “Come my dear.” he took her hand and gently lead her outside. “Wait here. I promise, I will do my best to ease the pain of this.” Her eyes looked at him pleadingly. “Look beyond my eyes my dear.” Slowly she began to hear his thoughts. His sadness for her, his hope. Then he was gone. He left her and quietly left. She sat and huddled against the rickety shack wall. It was a cold night, but she did not feel it. She shook on the edge of tears, but did not cry. Slowly she heard footsteps approaching. She fought back the tears. Her stomach, turned at the thought, her heart despaired. She felt so helpless.
The thoughts of her victim oozed into her mind. A dark mage, deserving of death. If she had been alive she would have killed him anyway. Oren's thoughts seeped in too. The mage was an enemy of her sire. He had chosen the victim carefully. She wanted to kill the mage, but not how Oren wanted her to. Oren's mind faded as he covered it again. A moment later he quietly stepped into the room. He took her hand again and led her outside. There was no light, but she could see the mage clearly. He was bound, gagged and blindfolded. He had been seated on a rock and was biding his time, waiting for an opportunity. She said nothing. Oren knew. He knew everything. He had planned so meticulously. “Be strong Elizabeth, this is going to be hard.” He took out a knife and carefully pierced the hand of the mage. It began to bleed. Elizabeth's sadness vanished. The blood raised her senses, it was all she could see. No! She would not give in. Something welled up inside her. She felt it pushing back her conscious. She resisted again and again, but the animal grew. The wound grew. It filled her vision. Soon it was her world. Her mind screamed as her last sensation was of the top half of the man sliding down her giant throat. She desperately clawed at it, trying to rend it from her throat, but the monster felt this and as the lump slowed to a gentle slide her blows became weaker. Despair and revulsion settled in. Everything faded to red. ***Heehee, tread carefully Oren, you may have bitten off more than you can chew with this one. Okay, that was sad, I've really overused that pun. ref 130-
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 6, 2012 17:55:10 GMT -5
Part XCV Slowly she awoke. Tears welled in her eyes as she realised what she'd done. She felt sick as she barely noticed the world growing around her. “Ah, awake.” She looked at Oren. Hoping for something. Anything. “I am devoid of use. Please, let me gaze upon dawn's light, I beg you.” He steadied her by her shoulders “Elizabeth. Don't sell yourself short. You were carefully chosen. I trained you, I did not just pick you at random. I did not just bite you into submission. We defeated you and your father. We are not the normal enemy. Your demise was carefully plotted and hard worked for. Do not sell yourself short child. You are not just another monster to us.” “But, I be a monster.” “Shhh child. Do not worry for yourself. We have taken care of your needs. Now my dear, go home, cry a little, and I will see you later. We have some time before your family arrives, and I promise, they won't be denied their opportunity.” Her heart lifted a little. Yes. Her mother, and brother, and father, and uncles and aunts and cousins. They would be here. They would end this. She followed Oren's directions and walked through the forest. She arrived at her estate well before dawn. The wards she had woven did not hold her. Her heart fell as she knew their power. What dark magic was this that was not even touched by holy wards. They could have taken her whenever they wanted. She took some comfort that there was a plan. Even though it would fail in the face of her family. And yet that did not worry them either. She caught a reflection in the mirror. It was unnatural. She had no reflection, and yet, the creature staring back at her was her. It felt so strange. Aqua eyes and deep emerald hair. She reached out to make sure it was a reflection. She did not weep, she mourned. She found her clothes and equipment just inside the front door. She dressed in her full regalia. Some artefacts burned, but she ignored it. A glint of strength shone in her eyes as she stood in the garden, waiting for the sun to end her pain. After many hours the horizon lit up. Slowly the orb ascended the skies. Its radiance radiance gently caressing her cold skin. It was clearly visible now. Etched into her retina. Her heart fell. It would not grant her the peace she seeked. She opened the ornate door and returned to seclusion. She did not eat or leave the house. And she carefully removed all the mirrors. She tried to be as ‘normal’ as possible for the most part. The phone rang once. But that would be her family. They would want to know if there had been a miraculous escape. She hugged herself and waited for it to stop. ***Poor lady. I'm so cruel. BTW, just a reminder, you can post in here if you want. It's not sacred or anything. I must admit, it is a bit longer than the six page fanfic it started out as , but it's nice to have something I have managed to stick to for a while. (ADHD problems me) Ref 130E
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 10, 2012 17:09:51 GMT -5
Part VCI It had been a few suns. She sat huddled in a chair by the fire. Warm comforting fire. She would have thrown herself in, but it would have been unfitting. She must be released by a holy weapon. There was a knock on the door. The back door.
It opened to reveal Oren and. And her sire. She picked him up and he embraced her. She began to cry. “There there, it's almost over. A few more moves and the game is over my dear.” Charby was glad to finally get a chance to comfort her. She felt his acceptance, his love for her was like a warmth. Mauriello was screaming at her but the voice faded. “No Elizabeth. That's sire attachment. Don't hate your sire, but try not to let it run away with you.” Oren was treading carefully again. “Get away from us you monster! This is all your fault! You soulless, heartless... Thing!” she began to cry pitifully. “Aww, come on sweetie, it's not that bad. You can still hunt most of us. We don't get along well with most of the troublemakers.” She seemed a bit comforted. Sire was pouring on the attachment. “Now come, do one more thing for me.” “Yes Charby.”
It was day. They led her off to a quiet garden. Once again they brought her a liquid lunch. “Just this one thing Elizabeth. Feed for me, just this once.” She hadn't noticed how her hunger had returned. Not eating anything had made it worse. She could not resist sire's will. She remembered her horror at her first feeding. The grotesque taste of a half man sliding down her throat. She remembered the blood. The sweet sweet taste of blood. She slowly approached the victim. She bit and drank. The Mauriello screamed, but its voice was a shadow now. The love of her sire and the sweet sweet taste.
She finished and dropped the corpse. Oren incinerated it, which she was glad for. “And now my sweet, there is one more thing you have to do.” “But I thought..” “Shhh” said Charby, putting a finger to her lips, “This is for you. Oren will explain.” Oren cleared his throat “Your family will be here in about five hours. I know you want to sacrifice yourself to them.” The Mauriello leapt at the thought. The whole family would settle things quickly, and she had no training. Finally peace would be theirs. She went indoors, showered and changed into her battlegear. Oren's voice rose behind her. “Prove them to me Elizabeth, prove to me the name of the Mauriello, flaunt yourself and meet them with all of your strength.” *** *sigh* It's not a very intricate plot. Maybe oneday I will be able to weave my tales with a lettle more thread. Ref 31-
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 13, 2012 15:28:18 GMT -5
Part IIIC The docks were abandoned by the time Elizabeth arrived. She could sense the others. They had come to watch. They had also hypnotised the residents away from the docks.
He looked over the rail as the ship pulled up. He was too late. The place was deserted. The darkness had already made its move on this town. Perhaps there would be one or two survivors. He espied a figure at the back of the docks. It was Elizabeth, but the eyes and pale complexion hardened his visage. At least she was waiting for him. Her sire couldn't have been very bright to let her out.
Seventeen skilled hunters left the ship by various means. Floating, jumping, jetpacks. They approached in open formation but stopped short of her. This is where she was meant to cry for help. Brothers, sisters, take this body, free my soul. “I have a message from my sire. Defeat me and my sire will let you continue your work unhindered. Fail, and you will leave this town and never return.” There was silence. “Do we have a deal?” “We do not deal with the dead, but since you will not live to see the dawn, we accept.”
She jumped a graceful arc over their heads and landed regally among them. A bold move. It would put her at a disadvantage. Many an overconfident demon had used it. It gave them an advantage only if their opponents were weak. She had not been trained since turning. She knew no vampire magic, so this would be over soon. She drew her daggers and her power flowed into them. Her eyes went wide with shock as a black haze surrounded them. With horror realisation began to dawn on her. Oren had taught her so much about vampires, their techniques, their limits. She knew more about her new body than she'd conceived. It did not matter. She was one, and they were all hunters. “Shocked by the colour of your blade dear?” There was a humming sound. She realised it was their thoughts. She could see their intent. What they thought of her. They thought her soul had been destroyed. Pride. Pride Miss Maurello. Pride. It will deliver you into my hands, you and all your kin. How I tried to wean you from it, but it has taken your death to open your eyes. Oren's thoughts echoed in her mind. She laughed madly as she threw her daggers aloft. The insanity was starting to return, but she grabbed it. Everyone suddenly looked down, eyes on her. She could have had them right there. She was holding a wicked electric whip. It crackled and snapped as she lashed it playfully. They charged.
It was over in a few minutes. Seventeen of their best. Knocked out. Sleeping. So vulnerable. Not even the great experienced leader. “Be this the best though hast?” she yelled. “Art this the extent of mine deliverance?” Her face set grim. She hadn't even had to use the monster. “Then I shalt have nought to do with thee and thine!” The Mauriello's voice collapsed into a whisper. Her teachers, her father, her mother. All quiet. Seventeen of them. Seventeen of the finest warriors. And she had given them every opportunity. She retrieved her daggers from the barrel. Sire was sauntering across the battlefield. He was grinning and had two straws in his hand. The other two emerged from the shadows. Oren was smiling peacefully. It had all gone so perfectly it was a shame. “I.. I had at least expected more. Damn you all I didn't even need the beast!” “Pride is the greatest of enemies my dear. You come from a powerful family, with a powerful inheritance, but they embrace pride. It will strengthen your will against the enemy, but it is deceptive. It is a weakness that will blind you to the truth. Walk with us, but if you do, leave pride behind.” She looked at his outstretched arm. “I am ashamed. But what of my family, hadst thou not perceived their strength?” “But you underestimate yourself my dear. Already you have seen your monster form and resistance to the sun. Cut my arm off.” She blinked. “Oh come now my dear, I know you want to.” She didn't. He had done this so perfectly. She still wrestled with the monster, but the monster was winning now. She opened up graceful arc with her longer dagger and removed his arm. Surprisingly he didn't resist. But then he didn't have to. Slowly his arm began to dissipate into energy. He gritted his teeth and his arm reformed. He touched the stone on his cloak and his suit was repaired. She stared at him slackjawed and then at sire. There had been almost no risk, and no doubt about her victory. “Good innit he lass?” Charby grinned. He covered the last few paces and leapt. Instinctively she caught him. He looked up at her. “Hehe, I could get used to this. Straw?” “Don't worry, he wouldn't.” “Aww Lance, you're no fun.”
The helped themselves to a few pints and sent the sleeping beauties away. A brainwashed crew and they would reach home before they had a chance to come back. If they were stupid enough. They taught her the rest of her repertoire, which didn't take long as Oren had had her study the bulk of vampire magic as a hunter.
“So what should we do now sweet thing?” “Oh sire, whatever you wish.” They were both being sarcastic and they knew it. “I believe I shall embark on an activity most exquisitely evil.” “Ooh hoo, now this is more like it. Yeah!' *** I'm sorry this is a bit too 'good guys always win' style. I prefer my heroes and anti-heroes to be organised. ;D Ref 133-
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 17, 2012 4:18:40 GMT -5
Part IIC They sat in Le Danser Le Maree Habile. A very upper crust restaurant on the water's edge. “I have already dined, I shall have but your finest dessert. Death-by-chocolate with whipped cream.” Charby snickered at the death part. Elizabeth squirmed a little uncomfortably. “Ooh” chimed Zeke, “that is evil.” “I must admit, you had me going for a while there.” Lance was much relieved. He knew everyone would have done their best to accommodate her first request, and that was what had worried him. “You know, you can have as much as you want now, you won't put on any weight.” chimed Charby. “That was a bit insensitive sire.” said Zeke. But they were all looking at Elizabeth who had a vacant stare. “Ye jest, surely.” She got a hold of herself. “He's telling the truth my dear.” said Lance. Without hesitation her face lit up. “Waiter, oh my dear waiter.” She was waving like a kid on a merry-go-round. “I would change mine order.” “Yeees, M'lady..” “Can we please have a whole cake. To share of course...” Elizabeth grabbed the fork delicately and slowly nipped a corner off the top of the cake. She closed her eyes in bliss. Slowly, and much to the amazement of the other patrons, she worked her way through the cake in its entirety. Down to the last smidgen of icing on the plate. She didn't care what they thought. Funny that thought Charby. All the things that could turn her, and it would be cake. The last words of Mauriello faded. She was a monster now. She didn't care. ----- The books she had treated werewolves as minions to be trained, but she didn't see that as a problem. She wondered why it was never thought of that they'd seek to control themselves. Perhaps just the wrong book store. It seemed strange, but the cure was to give in. She coaxed the wolf out earlier, and when the moon wasn't quite full. In return it let her watch. Sometimes it turned her stomach, but she slowly began to accept it as a part of her. She was a monster now after all. She had just hoped for a little control. It took a while, but eventually the feral would let her borrow the body during the day. She could even part transform. She was starting to come to terms when she flipped over to the final page on the treatment. She blinked, and then grinned evilly. At the next full moon she locked herself in a magic symbol. It hurt but it kept the wolf at bay. At the moon's apex she released the wards and the wolf leapt free. But she was its friend no longer. She grabbed its joyous form with in her mind and began to squeeze. At first it did not know what was happening, but soon it began to squirm in protest as she compressed it. It flailed wildly but she pushed harder. It was a tiny marble now, but she could feel it fighting back. It got more and more desperate as she squeezed it down to a pinhead where its strength suddenly gave way. She shoved it under her metaphorical foot and pushed it into submission. It did not understand, they had been friends. She lifted her heel and broke it. She felt bad. She felt like she had lost a close friend. Even the knowledge that feral would have dominated her if it hadn't had its way did not ease the pain. It would take a while. The moon began to take her, but it was different. She felt the feral urges rising, and the need to sate them, but she was awake. She could resist, painfully, and not indefinately, but she had much more control now. A snide snarl curled on her jaw as she jumped out the window. And then realised with a yelp that she was one floor up, and above the rose garden. ***A bit too much happening at this point. I wonder if anyone remembers what Laura did to herself a while back ? Perhaps I should have broken it in with a 'set the scene' incident. Ref 134-
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Post by nightreflection on Mar 27, 2012 16:06:57 GMT -5
Part IC The swarm of bats danced through the forest. A white, red-eyed bat seemed to lead. The rest followed. They grew in mid-flight and landed as humans. Of sorts. “So what is this about sire?” Zeke was ever eager to learn. “Well, I thought it was about time I introduced our little family to someone.” “Ahh, this would be the someone who objected to my initial presence here?” “Good, inne?” Oren just smiled. He had masterminded most of them, but sire's confidence and experience had been the inspiration for most of it. Things would have been a lot blander if sire hadn't taken a keen interest. They walked through the huge halls. They would have scared any normal group, but even the new members felt the confidence of their sire. This was not the enemy's castle, and they were all hand picked. No mere enemy would best them. If the owner did take offence, he would have to pull out his best, or even deal with them personally. Their steps echoed on the marble floor. Elizabeth reminisced how she'd expected dilapidation once. She had never thought the enemy so organised. She would have seen the elegance and riches as a warning. Now they were just stylish. Occasionally they walked past a few demons. Servants and nobles, they all turned their heads. She saw demons she never even knew existed. She could see there was a whole world the Mauriello had missed. Demons who were not fighters. Artificers and writers. There was a ruthless edge on all of them, but many added a civilised demeanour. Huge doors swung open and they stepped into a vast throne room. At the end sat a massive demon, the likes of which her family had never even suspected. Lance seemed suitably impressed. He had expected something powerful, but was glad the ‘boss’ had stature too. Zeke was grinning ear-to-ear. He thought the huge demon was just plain awesome. “Sammy!” Charby ran up to the throne. He was used to looking up, so he didn't mind. “Well hello there my little friend. Quite a family now I see.” “Oh you should see them all, they're so awesome.” “Well, if they're anything like your last addition they will be quite a handful.” Oren had been wearing a contented smile. It spread into a dangerous grin. “Oh ho, so you've been scheming again have you?” “Your majesty.” Oren dipped his head in acknowledgement, “Would you expect any less?” “The investigator. Come to judge my intent have you?” “Not specifically your majesty.” Lance said bowing a little. “Well, you'll only find goodwill here. Ooh, this is the little magician. I hear you get all the dirty jobs.” “Zeke rolled his eyes, well, just don't ask me to do any sweeping.” He bowed casually. Samrick looked at Elizabeth quietly for a few seconds. “Well well, this truly is a prize. Your history made for a very competent adversary. I am curious how you found your way into these ranks.” Elizabeth smiled, “Greetings your majesty. I would be Elizabeth Mauriello.” She bowed deeply. “My soul hath been captured by the wiles of Oren. Belittle not mine former brethren your majesty, but belittle not his tact either. And be not too bold, else wouldst thine history repeat upon thee.” She smiled cheekily. Samrick winced. “Tricky little devil. I'm surprised only one of you is more than I expected.” “And who would that be praytell?” “Certainly not thee Maurellio.” Samrick leaned on his hand grinning. “One can not hide such as yourself. Come, let us make merry, for tomorrow they die. I mean we dine. Not much difference I suppose.” The chatter faded into the night. Samrick had learnt a new respect for Charby's horde, but it was good to see him pick such capable allies, and better still that the chosen one remained his friend. *** Wow, it's been a while. Dang! Just when you thought you could put your eyes back in! ref 135-
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 3, 2012 15:25:22 GMT -5
Part C Of course it wasn't long until Oren found out. She was hunting the edge of the forest for a meal when she bumped into something. Huge red eyes turned to face her. He knew her instantly. The half moon shone down it's blessing upon her. He put his hand under her jaw.. “Laura. How I hated you. With your silver spoon while I had cheap plastic. I watched and waited for you all to fail. I gave you all a chance to redeem yourselves, so that when the time came there would be no pity. But you. You had to take your chance at that freedom. You released your soul from the chains of the damned. Every time I sought to distance you, you surprised me. Every harsh lesson just brought you closer. And now, now, of everyone I've ever met, strange that you of all people should be my truest disciple. Yes it's true I taught Zeke most of what I know, but the waters I hid from the world you exposed and drank of deeply. I offered my comfort and guidance. You took my ambition, desperation, hunger, greed and learnt how to temper these with justice. Damn you you viper, you have stolen my heart!” For a second she felt his cold lips pressed against her muzzle. The memory of smoke faded and Laura stood stunned. But it was true. She was more like him than any of the others. Strange fate indeed. Her brow creased. No! This was wrong! He was a murderer, the man who'd killed her parents. He put her through so much.. She'd learnt so much... Oh no, she thought, you're not showing me up this time. You will not be the boss of me. ----- Laura walked through the evening shade. Her nose twitched at the scent of rotten garbage. Scrumptious. But it wouldn't do her personality any good. Back alley deals had become a regular with her new abilities and many a victim had cried in despair as she impoverished or exposed them. A tall, well-dressed businessman approached. Clearly he didn't belong here in this finery, but she was sure he really did. As he sauntered through his familiar habitat she relished the thought of him making this place his home. Her ears caught a bat flying overhead and a few seconds later a noisy bloodsucker crunched his way around the corner. “Hello sweetheart, how about a dinner date?” Mr Racey looked around in shock. He'd heard nothing and had expected her to be alone. “But I.. you..” “This is strictly business Oren, now clear off.” “Oh come now, you know you want to.” “Look I don't care about your personal life, this is business.” Said Mr Racey, indignant at being ignored.” “Oh come on, just a quick bite.” “No is no Oren, now clear out.” “I could lend a hand with negotiations..” “Excuse me bu..” and then Mr Racey was cut off. “Listen you! I can do just fine on my own I don't need your #!£$ help!' “Just a quick.. do what she tells you!” he said looking into Mr Racey's eyes. Well, if he wasn't going to eat him. Laura was fuming, “I heard that. I said leave it! Go on! Scram you miserable bag of bones!” Oren turned around and was gone the next time Mr Racey looked for him. She enjoyed this part. By breaking them they weren't a threat any more and he couldn't justify hunting them. It annoyed him so. So she loved it so. It was just a pity Oren had ruined the fun on this one. Not to worry thought Oren, master will probably finish him off one random night. Besides, the best allies always cost something. And she was one capable ally at that. In fact, he reminisced, he may actually be in love. He laughed at the thought. Oh yes, a werewolf and a vampire, rich and poor, and he'd killed her parents. A perfect recipe for disaster. Although he did enjoy winding her up so. Ahh.. truly, it must be love. He'd never had time for love... *** Ugh, sappy bit ahead, but don't worry, I won't make it too predictable ref 136-
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 9, 2012 9:55:02 GMT -5
Part CI “Oh, a hunter. Forgive me. I thought you of the swine that infest these woods.” “Oren, pleased to meet you. And you would be?” “Douglas, Douglas Davidson.” “Pleased to meet you, so, who are you hunting?” “I seek my parents.” “Ah... I will not ask.” “I'm dead to it now. Some monster wrecked my home and turned my parents. I was barely in my teens. I nearly stayed that way eternally. Now I seek to put them out of their misery.” “Did the vampires give any reason why?” “They were just recruiting cannon fodder.” “And you're sure your parent's haven't been foddered yet?” “I will exact my revenge until they are put to rest, their master is put to rest, or I die trying.” “Cannon fodder sounds like his highness king Roddy's work.” “You know him?” The face lit up. “Vampire king, way out of your league. But I could train you. That is.. if you're willing to make a deal with the devil.” Oren gave him a look like he was his next meal. His weapons, he had no weapons! Idiot! His eyes opened wide and he lunged. Oren caught his arm and twisted it behind his back. “Like I said, way out of your league.” He twisted out of the lock and drew a concealed blade, but the movement's flow stopped. Oren was too fast. He was also not human anymore. “So, you're on speaking terms then.” Oren lifted him and threw him at the branches above. “Not unless you count ‘I shall decorate my table with your innards’.” He took a hit but managed to flip around and regain his balance. By the time he landed Oren was gone. “Like I said, outclassed.” Douglas dived at the sound, but there was nothing there save the rustle of bushes. ----- “Excuse me ma'am.” She turned around and examined the man. He smelt faintly meaty. Jonathan was always wierded out by them. No-one else managed it. He was sure she was eyeing him as a potential meal. “I'm sorry to bother you ma'am, but I've been trying to get in touch with Oren. Please, I don't mind doing a few chores.” “Oh, so you like Oren do you?” “I've been trying to get into his circle for years. He said I wasn't desperate enough, I understand now, but I still really want to learn from him.” “Oh you do do you? And just how desperate are you then?” “I.. I'm ashamed.” He turned away. “Nono, I do want to see this, and I can help you, but I want to see your dedication.” “O... Okay” he said shyly. He took off his shirt and revealed fresh scars. So that's where the meat smell came from. Ritual carvings, lightly etched all over his skin. Tattoos and pins. To his surprise she just smiled. “I discovered Oren uses real magic. I can do a little magic, but it's so weak. I can light candles, but I need to use a blood ritual. I was hoping I finally had enough dedica..” Laura put her hand to his mouth. So Oren doesn't want this one does he? Well, he's dedicated enough for me. “What's your name?” “Jonathan Cottle. Ma'am.” “Well Jonathan, I think we can come to a suitable arrangement. You help me out and I'll teach you magic.” “Really?” his face shone. It was wonderful to look at. “But first you have to help me find some meat.” Oren would be furious. He'd waited so long for this one's attitude to develop and now she was snatching him. But why not? He wasn't the only one who could have minions. ***Anyone remember Jonathan? No? Good, I'd hate to think anyone was THAT interested. ref 137=
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 17, 2012 15:32:31 GMT -5
Part CII “Miss Mauriello?” “What seekest thou?” “I saw you hunting the other night. I need help with two I am hunting.” He offered a picture. “Our paths have not entwined.” “I'm willing to offer a bounty.” “Lucre be of none interest to mine person.” “Surely you could do better with money for equipment, I'm..” he broke, and hung his head. He began to sob. He looked up. “I'll pay you my last penny, just please, please. Help me.” “Thine gold be thine. I hast not inclination for such a hunt, but knowest one that mayest teach thee that thou mayest thineself vengeance sow.” He sighed “I suppose it's all up to me. You are sounding like that vampire I met.” “He be the one yea. Perhaps it be better thou knowest us.” His head fell in despair. “Are all hunters like you.” “Nae, but they shalt never satisfy thine need.” He was about to speak when suddenly hate gripped him. “I will never submit to you!” he yelled “Never!” “You think you can manipulate me with your mind tricks, well guess what. I know a lie when I hear it. So help me I will destroy you all!” He was unarmed so he turned and ran. She let him go. ----- “Ah, my sweet, how goes the evening?” The look he got was priceless. “Get lost creep.” “How I love you so when you're angry.” “Come over here so I can slap you.” “Ooh, the girl wants kinky” he said prancing over. She stumbled for words. She hadn't expected him to be this forward. The footsteps behind her passed the door and rounded the corner. “Well what do we have here?” came a gruff voice from somewhere behind her. The look he got unnerved him. It said, ‘you're not welcome.’ “Oh, you think you're someones then. Let me introduce you to something.” He pulled out a crude grey pistol. They broke down into uncontrollable laughter. He quickly closed in behind the woman and took aim at the woman's shoulder. A ‘warning’ shot. Before he could finish aiming something knocked the weapon into the air. There was a clatter as it landed on a dumpster. “How?” This was followed by a scream as pain rushed through his arm. He looked down and it had been shredded. He stared in disbelief, but only until Oren sank his fangs in. Laura had greedily scarfed half way through the bloody mangled arm by the time he felt his consciousness slipping. Together they devoured their victim. “Not bad for a snack. I'm glad you don't shy away from a good meal.” “I never did understand Lance.” “He's getting better.” “That's good to hear.” She shuddered as she thought of how horrified she'd have been two years ago. What had Oren done to her? They finished their shop talk and left after the usual jibes at each other. It was strange. It was like he was goading her to be better than him. Well if that was the case, she'd hate to disappoint. She waited for his flapping to pass and let the wolf take her. She jumped the fence and ran into the forest for seconds. Fangs and claws were hungry work. Maybe she would find sire. Fun times. She missed the vampire's lack of need for new clothes, but she'd gotten around it with stretch fabric and conjureable clothes. The wolf made up for it. It wasn't the bleak blood-filled existence of the bloodsuckers. Everything was so alive. The scents, the sounds, the experiences, the flavours. She wondered if Oren envied her. She hoped he did, but she got the feeling he was a soulless b*£#&!?# before he was turned, not just after. *** Sorry for the long silence. A trying time it has been. To be sure. ref 138=
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 20, 2012 13:53:39 GMT -5
Part CIII It was noon. The knock on the door alerted her. This was the standard greeting time of her family. It was probably coincidence. It had better be – if it wasn't there would be trouble, the bloody sort.
The door swung open to reveal mixed feelings. “Light's greetings ma'am.” She slammed the door in his face. “Get thee hence I art not thine brethren.” He was just a child. There was no reason.
He patiently knocked again. She would normally leave them to go away, but he was a Mauriello. Even at such a young age, he would wait outside until she gave him audience.
“Very well.” she said yanking the door open. “State thine petition.” He moved his balance forward to come inside but her stare stopped him. He stood for a moment most confused. This was not the order of things. The light of his kin shone within him, and he regained his confidence. “I wilt, would li, would request thine deed of arms.” She gazed on him sadly. “Mine poor, poor child. What thou seekest art beyond mine hand.” His eyes fell to the floor. “Here, I shalt call for carriage. Thine support shall await thee at thine bed. Thou mayest depart two days hence on the Sunny Mare.” “But..” She looked at him with sad eyes. He turned dejectedly and slouched towards the gate. She felt for him. But she could not fulfil her duty, even if she wanted to.
-----
Zeke moved quickly. It was hard to believe he had been aboard a ship a minute ago. He was half way across the sprawling mass that was Mumbai. The tropical heat made him uncomfortable, but he was dead, so he could manage flight in the oppressive heat. No-one questioned how a bat ended up in a busy city, they were too busy to notice. If anything they would try to turn him into dinner. Dinner. He hadn't fed. Most of the trip had been on plane, but he had flushed himself to avoid airport security. It had been a long flight regardless. He landed in one of the millions of tiny rooms that passed for homes. The girl looked up at the wall in front of her. She could feel his presence. Slowly she turned. She screamed but the door was locked. There was no lock, just a handle, but it was locked. A quick spell made the sum of family's efforts pointless yelling. She muttered something under her terrified breath. It translated remotely into “please don't hurt me” over and over in thoughtspeak. He liked innocent victims. Oren had extended the straw into a set of them that clipped neatly over their teeth. It wasn't quite the same sensation, but the blood was. And it was goood. A little spicy, but he liked that. He liked his meals clean and spiced with terror. But he made up for it with hypnosis when it was all over. A few minutes later the family finally made it in. Their daughter had been mauled at the neck, there was blood everywhere, but the wound had healed perfectly. She was staring blankly at the wall. She couldn't remember a thing. She was pale and weak, but she would be fine in a few days.
Invigorated he flew to the library. Amazing how quickly he could pick up languages with thoughtspeak. He knew what they were saying, but he also knew what they expected him to say. His language was a little broken at first, but unnervingly natively spoken. He would get stuck and they would give him a list of answers to choose from. He learned of many legends, but only a few registered on the minds of the attendees. He would find something to contribute. He would not let all the others get the glory. He was turned for his loyalty, but he wanted more, he wanted to be recognised for something. Oren was devious, tactical, and now had primal magic, Lance was a genius and a sleuth, and Elizabeth could wipe out a whole army on her own. He was just a dog's body. Well he would change that. He would have his respect. ***Ooh, someone's nerve's been hit. Well, at least it's not infighting. Ref 139e
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 24, 2012 16:34:11 GMT -5
Part CIV It was almost two days later. The ship was due to leave at 11 am, so she was surprised to hear the knock an hour before. “Why standest thou before mine countenance? Ought thou not prepare for thine journey?” “I'm sorry ma'am, please, hear my plea.” He blurted out in tears. She stepped back as he knelt and tried to grasp her hands in the traditional manner. His tear filled eyes pleaded, seeking an explanation. “I be no longer thine kin.” “Please, hear me!” “Nought shalt be altered, but if thou must, speak.” “We have too many children. There is no-one to train me. When this has happened in history, the child grows up weak and a burden to the family. Please, train me. I don't know what you don't like about me, or why you refuse a family pledge, but I am willing to pay if I must.” “Child, where camest thou upon mine name?” “I was searching the family archives. Desperate for someone to teach me, but they all had students already. Then I saw your name. There was nothing with it. No list of achievements, heritage or anything, but it was there. So I came.” She looked across the garden. “So, mine kin holdest mine name.” After a minute she broke the silence. “Heed me well child, I can not grant thee thine desire. Shouldst though train under me thine ties to thine heritage shalt severed be. Thine shelter art renewed, thou shalt not make thee to the boat this day. Shouldst thou struggle with the path of light, then show thine face tomorrow at noon that I my turn thee from the path of dark, but beware, the price be beyond measure. So let thine heart consider carefully thine need.” ----- As he headed north myth contradicted myth. Tombs were empty and or devoid of magic. Slowly the land began to dry out until he could fly without being covered in sweat. The myths, like all good myths drove him into the remotes. The mountains turned him into a furry wolf, or ape man when he needed to climb. It was too cold for wings. Sometimes he would just float ominously, but it wasn't a good idea with the howling winds. He'd left many a trinket in their hidden tomb. Scrolls of ancient power turned out to be nothing more than common spells or spells of little use. He had learnt some, but not much. He was sneaking up on a monastery. The usual, he would observe the monks, imitate them and use their thoughts to pass any codes on. He was ready and approached the gate. The guard recognised him instantly and attacked. He countered and almost broke him. Well, it was time for a meal. He dragged him off. There was a problem with this one. He wasn't responding to hypnosis. Fortunately a little proper magic and he was snoring like a baby. Zeke cleaned him up and cast a healing spell. He did not need any more suspicion. Zeke thought for a moment. What had Lance taught him? The monk's mind had gone blank as he attacked. They must have some way of fighting evil. But that required conscious effort, so as long as he did not arouse suspicion he would be fine. He slapped his hands together and rubbed them. Finally, a challenge. He turned into a rat, but even the rat-sized entrances were protected by enchantments. Nothing he recognised, it was a different type of magic. It was almost as if it was an extension of the life of the monks themselves. Nothing a little conventional magic couldn't handle regardless. Soon he was happily working his way through. The various training rooms were tricky to pass without being noticed. It seemed he was the only living thing inside other than monks. Not even a spider, curious. As he passed towards the central chamber their minds revealed their master. A master of many a martial art and accomplished student of Chinese lore. Zeke grinned evilly. He had come searching for treasure, and had found a brother. ***We're doing this Bab-5 style atm - two stories per episode. Pity I don't have a main plot to build on! Ref 141-
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Post by nightreflection on Apr 29, 2012 10:15:06 GMT -5
Part CV He was back at noon. The next day. He was hugging himself. His face was sad. He had been crying and he kept pulling himself from side to side. The young impressionable mind. To pridefully guarded against the world. So malleable by his kin. Truly he dreaded what she would do.
“Sit child.” “I wouldst know thine name.” “Byron ma'am.” “Thou has enlarged thine stature from whence I beheld thee last. Knowest thou verily thine mother dost weep for thine presence here.” She paused to let this sink in. “The city thou sawest. Even the very streets are forbidden for thine kin.” His eyes opened wide. She had referred to him as not her kin. “Tell me child, art thou weary of tales of thine kin's might? Brace thyself that I show thee their weakness.” Byron Mauriello put his hand to his mouth. Tears filled his eyes afresh as he gazed upon the visage of death. He had never even considered his kin would fall this far. “But, but what of the free pact..” “Failed.” “But how..” “Enough Byron.” she said softly. “Now thou knowest why thou canst not lay thine hand on mine. Return to thine kin. They be banished from this place for their failure. Count it not as weakness. Mine sire and shadowkin each cast darkness farther than any written enemy. But shouldst I impart mine mind unto thee, thy kin shalt cast thee out. Thou mayest join the hunt, but thou shalt hunt alone.” He burst into tears. After a half minute he got up and ran. She hated to hurt him so. But he would only respond to the rod.
-----
Zeke fell to the floor. His paws skittered as he scrambled for purchase on the floor. Polished by generations of footsteps it was impregnable, unforgiving. The pain of death flowed through him as a spear pierced his heart, but only for a moment, a few seconds later he woke. They had underestimated him. They retrieved the spear. He was half way through an enchantment by the time the first went down. Soon the entire monastery joined the fray, but they could not touch him. He was too fast, too dead.
Suddenly the monks backed off. He stood in the middle in a half-bear form, growling, menacingly twitching his head from side to side. A figure in a brown robe emerged from the main door. He spoke in a tongue new to Zeke. Show me yourself. Zeke humoured him. The monks stepped back. Fear whispered through their ranks. I will fight you. If you win, take your desire and be on your way. If you lose, leave and never return. Zeke bowed - their token of acceptance. The master mind went blank. He walked past him into a large room, Zeke followed. It was hard to believe they were underground. The structure was so vast, with no supports it looked like it had to be a building. Training equipment was strewn everywhere. The monks filed into a side chamber and watched through slits in the wall.
This would be a hard fight. They went at each other tooth and nail. The master was every bit a match for him. Techniques blocked his speed and power. He was slowly wearing Zeke out. He would be starving in a day if this kept up, and the old man looked good for it. So he would rely on an old favourite.
He lifted his head as the master struck a vicious blow. It knocked him into the wall, but the wall felt it more. Hands curled into claws, claws sharpened into rakes of doom. Teeth grew and his face turned from a monster into a nightmare. When the transformation was complete he let out a roar of terror. He could smell the fear of the monks around him. The little blood spot before him was focussing his life force. Life force. Delicious. He slammed a giant paw. A shock of terror drifted up from below. He roared again, from right above him and then clamped his muzzle around him. He licked the terror from the skin of the petrified little lump. Like sour candy it had a uniquely delicious flavour to it. He slowly rolled the thing around in his mouth and then lifted his neck high. He shook the treat and slowly it began to slide down his throat. He caught it there and coughed it up. With a splack it landed on the floor. He smelt it testingly like a dog and its vomit.
He returned to normal size. The master was a shivering wreck before him. He wiped the terror from his mind, but not the defeat. You have won, go, take what you want. He was grimly willing to accept wholesale slaughter. Ah, pride. Why did Oren have to be everywhere. He was such a nag. Going on about this and that. And so annoyingly right. For once, just once he wanted him to be wrong. But my dear child, what I want....is you! He'd always wanted to rip Oren's lines. He took the monk by the hand and they left. No-one dared stop them.
*** Ref 142-
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Post by nightreflection on May 3, 2012 16:01:08 GMT -5
Part CVI “His manner escapest me Oren. Lo, I set mine face against the whelp, yet he returneth.” “My dear Elizabeth. You can't control the destiny of a human being, you can only encourage it. In the end it is their own decision. As for the rod. I learnt with Laura. Harsh reality forces a decision, but the answer is not always what you expect. She taught me that.” “And what of thine hunter? I feel for his state. I wouldst train his hands. Much sorrow dwelleth behind yon eyes.” Oren shrugged, “The same really. It doesn't matter. But it is good that you feel. You need to open your eyes Elizabeth. You are strong, but you need to add wit to that. There are many ways to control a man. He is not beyond our grasp, and no, not out of fear as your mind fears.” “And seekest thou mine nephew for thine army?” “Sire has said many times before that he is not a monster factory. We have a warrior. We are already capable, we just found a use for someone who could challenge a whole army themselves. Understand. You are not our army, you are a tactical card. Like me, Lance and Zeke, sire can play us in the political game. Good cards give you better chances, but luck and the skill of the players also plays a big part.” “So I be a beast, to be loosed when force art necessary. Art that all I be to sire? To thee?” “No my dear, not at all. You were chosen for your talent. And because we desired your skills with a hunger. That is true. But. To us, from the day you were chosen, you were family. Even in your pride we looked to protect and nourish you. We almost lost you, and when I accepted that you would never join us, it felt like losing one close to me. But then sire asked that I continue, so here you are. Your are ours. We are yours. Your hurt is our hurt. Do not face the world alone. We are here for you.” She was looking into his eyes. “Swear to me. Swear thou fox. Swear that on thine bond thou shalt keep thine teeth from mine kin.” “I swear.” “Wilt thou leave a blessing? Didst he not verily cause thine visit?” “I would be honoured.” The opened the door to reveal the frightened little mind. Kin. She'd called him kin. “I... I know I should be on the boat. I was born to fight. Bred to fight. I'm desperate. All my preliminary training. I want to so much. I know it will hurt, but I'd rather die than spend my life in a library like grandfather. Please, take me, only, swear to me by thy bond that you won'test vamp me.” “Thou hast my word child, but beware my brother. My sire art stronger, but Oren be subtle. It be a net of his design that ensnared me. Stand Byron. Thou art Mauriello no more, yet thy art shalt surpass even the eldars.” The twelve year old stood up. His skin seemed to glow. Oren crouched and looked into his eyes. The street was empty so they were blood red eyes. “Such a turbid age.” he said calmly. He put his hand under the boy's chin in that curious gesture he used when he wanted your full attention. “No..” Elizabeth could see the darkness flowing into the boy. “Yes, the darkness flows into you Byron. Look into my eyes. The darkness flows into you, and it will consume you unless you pay attention and listen to what I say first.” The boy's eyes were wide with fear and concentration. “It is pride that delivered your aunt to us, and pride that drives your family. I have been asked to give a blessing. I give this: You have rejected your family.” Realisation pulsed once in the boy's eyes. “Now turn your back too on their pride. You are now a boy. Not a man. A talented, trained boy at that, but still a boy. You are strong, yet there are many stronger than you. Humble yourself and see yourself with clear vision. Do not think yourself any less. Do not think yourself any more. Treat everything with respect. Even your enemy, and do not think that just because you are better you have the right to be more important.” He could see the young mind absorbing the message. Satisfied he let go and stood up. He pulled a sheet of blank brown paper out of his cloak. “Now how did that cleansing spell go? Ah heck, Zeke knows it, I'll ask him” he said crumpling and throwing the parchment over his shoulder. It vanished in a burst of flame. A puff of smoke and he was gone. “Thou shalt be a stranger but one night. Return on the morrow. Whenever it seem good to thee.” He bowed turned and walked away. He felt dirty. Darkness swirled in his soul. *** I know, I suck at ye olde engelishe. Too bad" ref 143-
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Post by nightreflection on May 18, 2012 18:32:29 GMT -5
Part CVII The master had stopped travelling many years ago, but had flown before. He also used divination, so he was very current on the modern world. He did not ask of his fate. Was he that obvious? Would he accept Zeke as a brother. Only time would tell. Oren would be so jealous. This was gonna be so much fun. ----- Later that day there was a knock on his hotel door. There was a letter underneath it, but nobody outside. He could barely make out the taint of darkness through the defilement that curdled within him. Nervously he opened it. It was a crude letter, but the magic written on it was potent. It was a simple cleansing spell. So simple he could not understand why he had not been taught it before. Mauriello would never accept such a crude lesson, but he was desperate. He opened his mouth and uttered the mystical chant. Slowly a glow began to rise within him. It felt like light mixed with water. Wherever the water touched the darkness was dissolved. An hour later he was staggered to find himself purified. Who was his aunt that, even turned into a creature of darkness, retained allies that had knowledge such as this? Oren was mildly unhappy. It turned out Zeke was out of town and he'd had to research the spell himself. Creatures of the night did not have an easy time reading sacred texts. He thought carefully of the lesson that had been charged at such a high cost. I will remember. He promised. I will not lift me up above my fellow man. The next day he found his aunt's house had changed. An extension had grown overnight. The plain square structure glistened in the sunlight. It was white and pure. How had they made it so quickly? He reached for the door but it opened for him. “A little magic. Security of steel is of no import.” She smiled welcomingly. As he walked through Byron reminded himself that extensions weren't built for the dead. And then realised the error of his reasoning. Elizabeth laughed good-naturedly. “Mine form wouldst find such most natural, most satisfying. Yet this be not what I seek for thee.” He entered the house. He had no choice. The dark mist was not very thick, but it infused him nevertheless. The new extension was his. Elizabeth did not follow him in, and there was a fountain with a lightstone in-between. It greatly sped up his cleansing. He still saw her dead face when he closed his eyes at night. Even in a place of such light his nights were restless. The bell rung to summon him. She stood in the black doorway the opened on the cleansing pool. “Thy tutelage shalt a span of days be forestalled. At a matter of urgency dost mine sire require me.” And with that the black door shut and she was gone. A few days. He was not sure he could last that long, he was so excited. Finally, some real training. None of this slap-dash ‘I'm to busy with my real student to care.’ stuff. ----- Elizabeth peeped into the shopping bag. Several chocolate bars and a small choc-fudge cake beckoned. She naughtily prised open a bag of whoppers and snuck a few. Her eyes closed in bliss. It was like being a kid again, except with no time-out for being naughty. She dashed through the park, desperate for the sanctuary of the woods. She'd have to get something else for this evening. She was almost sure she was alone when she happened upon a lean-to. Much to her surprise the lump within belonged to a long-time enemy of the Mauriello. Also hunters, but with a few choice bones to chew. Now the Mauriello code would be to righteously leave him unharmed, but take something of his and then return it to him later. This saintly gesture would prove their goodwill and help heal the rift. She poked him awake. He woke quickly in the manner of hunters. “Mauriello! Indeed rumours of your demise were untimely. What do you want.” “A kiss mine sweet adversary.” and with that she dropped her camouflage and sunk her teeth into his neck. Her eyes rolled in bliss. He was too stunned to say anything, he could only stutter a few syllables before the life passed from his startled face. The blood ran dry and Elizabeth started to chew. She stopped and sat back thoughtfully. She pulled out a 5th avenue and rolled it in the neck wound. It tasted delicious. Slowly she worked her way through the chocolatey feast. She had never been so spoiled in her entire life. As she threw the last bone away she mused, “No time outs.”. She stood up and washed the bloody-sweet ring from around her mouth and chin and went back for more chocolatey goodness. ***I thoroughly enjoyed writing the chocolatey part. I must be totally deranged. Maybe I can do it a bit quicker next time. ref 144=
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Post by nightreflection on May 20, 2012 3:54:12 GMT -5
Part CVIIIThe cargo hold had been cold and depressurised. He had wrapped the master up, but it was still freezing. Zeke watched their progress on his gadget. He hoped it wasn't scrambling the plane's systems too much. So, how high can you dive from? Haunted eyes looked at him. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in. My knowledge lets me dive from any height. Good. And with that Zeke punched a hole in the fuselage and dived out, pulling the smell of fear with him. The icy air rushed past them, but it was rapidly warming. Below them Kellwood stretched beckoning warmly. It grew rapidly as did the water they were fast approaching. The wind lashed the last few wrappings off the master and he straightened and pointed his toes. Just kidding. Zeke sat the master on his knees and slowed down just enough to let him know he was in control. Then his goth had a thought and he let go. Soon a giant raven was diving at the sea, a helpless man clutched in its grasp. Wings spread wide as it landed gently and then vanished. A speedboat began humming above the waves and soon its search pattern found them. An excited journalist asked them about the raven but was soon convinced that it was a natural trick of the light. He took his good friend Zeke and the man who had swum too far out back to shore. At least it hadn't been a total waste. ----- Zeke was a ruthless taskmaster and quickly headed for the ghost house. He fed the master and energy drink while he waited for the others Master. It had been so long he'd forgotten his own name. It wasn't long before all five elites were present. Sire was fashionably last and slowly Zeke explained what he had found. “I don't like making monsters Zeke.” Sire said bitterly. He looked over to the master. Scared he awaited his fate as the five beasts discussed it in a tongue he could not comprehend, in a place he did not know. “I believe I can find a better solution.” Oren smiled. Zeke looked at the floor, was this it? Was he always going to be shot down. “Oh no my dear, dear Zeke, what you have brought us is far greater than a brother. Do not underestimate yourself.” “But I.. I really wanted to prove myself.” “Zeke. I was chosen because I was the first. I had nothing worthy of turning. Sure I have primal magic, but that was earned. Lance was recruited for his mind and Elizabeth because she was born, bred and trained a hunter. I don't know why sire chose you, but he had a good reason. He's not a monster factory. Contrary to what people believe, I am not running the show or in on all the details.” Charby was grinning widely. He liked showing Oren up. Oren continued: “What you have given us her Zeke is far better than a brother. He has no power except knowledge and training. We can claim that knowledge for ourselves, and do our own training.” Zeke shook his head. “I don't understand.” he shouted, frustrated. “You have given us more than a brother. The power of this one will be given to all of us. It will be almost like creating five new brothers.” Zeke's eyes opened wide. Then he held his head in his hands and laughed. “Of course, I should'a known you snake.” Oren vanished upstairs and through the portal. He came back a few minutes later with a bag. Oren opened a path to the underground chamber and sealed it again. “Aww, I was hoping to use the castle.” A wave of fear crossed Lance and Elizabeth's faces. “Sorry Zeke, not everyone remembers their turning with as much joy.” The room had been expanded since Oren's turning. Countless experiments before he'd moved out. He scraped the dried blood of the last one off the floor. Slowly he began to etch a rune in the stone. The centre was familiar to him and sire, but the others were left guessing. There were a few significant differences in the rune this time. He reached into the bag and put a petrified heart on one of these, and then pushed it into the floor. There were arcs from the heart out to six runic circles on the edges of the room. In two of these he placed shrunken chrysoberyl-eyed skulls. Why the skulls? Why, one for me, one for you. The monks’ eyes went wide in terror. He did know what this would be, but he feared it more than Zeke. “Wait, I know this, I can do it if you want!” said Zeke. “If you want I won't stop you, it's your prize, but you need to stop treating yourself as a dog's body. It's not exactly a complicated spell for us, you should just sit back and relax for a change.” Zeke realised what he'd been doing. He'd been so over-zealous that he'd lowered his own status. Is this how it worked in real life? Those with no self esteem, ever helpful, and yet this very attitude keeps driving them down. He was glad for good friends. The master was lead onto the circle in the middle. Oren stood above the heart. The familiar chant began and he raised his hands either side of the monk's head. They began to glow. A hissing sound began as wind stripped Oren's mouth of saliva and he sunk his teeth into the neck. It took ten hours. The monk had been alive forever. When they finished Oren collapsed. The monk just stood there. There was no skill left in his mind. A dribble of training let him remain standing through the ten hours but other than that he could not remember a day of it. Only his personality was left. Slowly a very tired Zeke lead him to the living room, fed him and put him to bed. They left Oren to sleep on the stone heart. ***To be honest, not the most creative part I've written. My apologies for how linear it turned out. ref 146-
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Post by nightreflection on May 23, 2012 16:05:11 GMT -5
Part CIXElizabeth woke slowly. The sound of training echoed from the East wing. Apparently someone couldn't wait to start. She looked at the giant clock through misty eyes. It had been a whole day. She groggily crept out of bed. She had been trained to be quick, but that had never applied to her when she was recovering from a mission, just like calories never used to affect you if it was Christmas, or your birthday, or you were walking at the time Or sometimes if it was just really good chocolate. She staggered to the bathroom. Preparation first. Fully enarmoured she swayed into the kitchen and made breakfast. The boy had made his own. At least that part of his training was good. She delicately ate her breakfast and sipped her tea. When she was finished she cleaned up and mentally prepped herself. This was not normally needed, a Mauriello was prepped when they woke up, but she felt she'd earned it. She also felt she'd earned a chocolate. She sat down in the living room and pondered the memories of the monk. Some training would be needed, but less for her. The techniques relied on life force, not birthright magic, but it wouldn't take much to get things working off undead force. After a few hours of pondering she called the boy into the neutral training room. “Good morning ma'am.” He was bubbly and eager to kick off his training. “Tidings student Byron. Reveal thine stance.” For the next few hours she trained him, but he was stubborn. The Mauriello had accepted that he was learning from a vampire, but still held the old ways in high esteem. The old ways she sighed. The same pathetic ways that had lead seventeen of their best to their doom at her hands. Had she not been merciful the Mauriello legacy would have ended there. Even heavily burdened by it herself, the teachings of Charby, Oren, Lance and Zeke had devastated their ranks. This boy's attitude would not do. “Thou art a mule and I have not patience. Draw thine sword and strike me down.” “But... but I can't' “Behold these blades.” she held them infront of him, “they didst three short of a score of thine brethren repulse.” It was worse than that she thought. “Thou art no danger to mine person.” He drew his sword and charged her. A flawed attempt, but a classic that would have worked against lesser undead. She blocked it easily with one dagger. “Thine enemy be not mortal, commit not thyself to thine strike.” He tried again, but had obviously not listened. She slapped the blade out of his hands. “Time for such foolishness hast I none. When thou hearest mine word, thou shalt comply.” One more time he came at her. He cleverly flicked the blade as he approached. A move obviously well practised. It would have worked against any human enemy, and many undead, but it still relied on power. She blocked it with her daggers, but he twisted the block so she could not release without pulling back. Her body twisted unnaturally and the shorter dagger buried itsself in his stomach. “Didst I not warn thee? I be not mortal.” His eyes were filled with betrayal and disbelief as she slid the blade up just enough to leave him clinging to life by a thread. He dropped to the floor. She put a crystal bottle next to him. “This be of dark rejuvenation. Quaff it shouldt thou seek to learn further.” And with that she left him. *** I enjoyed this rather sadistic twist too. Twist, haha, ahahaha, Mwahahaha! erm *cough* sorry. I really shouldn't let him out. ref 147
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Post by nightreflection on Jun 1, 2012 16:36:08 GMT -5
Part CXByron was in pain. He was weak and losing blood fast. He could not trust the undead, the potion was poison. It had all been a trick to get him here, he must call for help. He would be avenged. No undead could challenge his kin. It sounded so ridiculous. He let it go. It faded and he realised so was his strength. To let go, to pass beyond, to find peace. No! This was not what he wanted. He reached for the bottle. His muscles screamed in pain. The heavy crystal felt like lead. He pulled it towards him. He almost cried. There was a cork. A cork! His hands found no purchase, his strength was fading fast. He pulled at it with his teeth, slowly, so slowly it loosened. He smelt it. It smelt vile like death. Such had no place within him. He cried with despair. No! He did not care. He had left them, he must do this. He put his hands to the flask and lifted. They were too weak and it fell over. He desperately tried to raise the heavy flask, but it would not budge. What could he do? His sight was fading, this was the end. What he would do, what he would give to carry on. He bent down to the spilling liquid. He could not reach the top so he lapped. Like a dog he lapped at the necromancer's bowl. He was licking, slowly. Licking like a dog. Licking every last morsel. He realised there was some left in the flask. He grabbed it and downed the rest. Bones knit together, tissues joined. He drank it all. Every last drop and went to cleanse himself. The next morning training would resume in earnest. Elizabeth returned an hour later. She feared what she would see when she entered the room. It was clean and the bottle, while unwashed, had been carefully placed near her door. She had hated to do it, but she had to break him. And she had to test his resolve. She could not have a Sunday hunter serving her. Such a life of luxury is what had lead her to defeat the first time. She found him in the fountain cleansing himself. He had healed perfectly, but he had recut himself as a reminder. His demeanour was more serious, less proud. She could only hope it would stay this way. ----- Oren woke to a pain in his stomach. The b*#?! had let him sleep on the thing. He rolled over and fell asleep. Slowly he woke. He removed the heart and headed upstairs. The monk was staring blankly at the wall. He had lost it all, years of training, forgotten in ten hours. He was a broken man. He put his hand on the shoulder. Relax, we're not that mean, although it sure doesn't look like it us dragging you here to suck your brains out. Get some breakfast. You'll need it, I'll be along in an hour. Oren lumbered up the stairs and through the portal. He emerged a few hours later cleaned and refreshed. He pulled dinner out of the freezer and had it for breakfast. The magic had left him drained, but it would still be a few days before he needed blood again. The monk had humbly cleaned up after a simple breakfast, so there was no mess to clean up, although the faint aroma of curry reeked of a Charby after-party. He hoped Zeke had taken care of that, not the poor monk. Come. He lead the nervous monk back down to the stone basement. Pick one, he pointed to the skulls. The monk gingerly took the one nearest him. No, don't look in the eyes yet. Oren took his and lead the man back upstairs, sealing the room behind him. They went up to the guest bedroom. There was fur everywhere. It seemed Menu had stopped for a dognap while they were magicing. How he was able to sleep with the chanting was beyond them. The monk had thought it and insult to rub in his defeat, but Oren explained that some of their guests were more than human while he changed the sheets. Okay, sit up in bed, no, half way down. Now you can look into the eyes. The monk licked his lips nervously as he complied. He sat transfixed for a few minutes and began to fall forward. Oren pushed him backwards and drew the covers over him. The chrysoberyl eyes had crumbled to dust. He threw the head into the bin. It was worthless now. Oren looked around, shrugged and did the same himself on the stone floor. ***That was nasty of me. Well what did you expect! Ref 148-
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Post by nightreflection on Jun 5, 2012 13:25:02 GMT -5
Part CXI Something stirred upstairs. Zeke waited for it to thump its way down, but it didn't. After about an hour he gave up and trapsed upstairs to see what gave. The monk was sitting on the bed, legs crossed and meditating. It looked like he had his memories back. You're not hungry? The monk looked at him hopefully. I did not want to offend. Zeke laughed. You don't have to stand on parade here. We're not really that bad. I'm sorry for putting you through that. I had had... other plans, but it seems to have worked out for the better. That Oren is a tricky one for sure. So what happens now? Well, we're done with you, so you're free to go. But I suggest you have breakfast. I've also booked you a plane ticket – no emergency exit this time, I promise. A wave of fear crossed the face as the monk remembered. I know you don't really have much use for it, but I've given you a small case of money. It's not penance for what we did to you, but buy yourself or the monastery something to cushion the blow. Thank you. Oh, and, we may need you again. Sorry. But not any time soon, and we won't drag you half way across the world next time, so don't worry about it.
They all turned out to wave goodbye. The monk realised that, while they may stab him in the back, if he was ever desperate, they were about the best wild card he could play now that they had a vested interest. Although he shuddered at the thought of their demonic faces. He would have to be practically suicidal.
-----
Parry! Thrust! Cut! Byron had quickly picked up the basics of the new style. He'd been very receptive after being gutted. He could see the new style working. Speed replaced power and the flurries of blows he unleashed would have surprised even any of his old trainers. Not Elizabeth. She knew them all. Without having to use her supernatural strength or speed she calmly blocked each combination. He could see he would have to become much more skilled to even get her to break a sweat. “Parley” commanded Elizabeth. He knelt, resting on his sword and breathing hard. “I hast thine blows counted. Thou art mortal. Thou shalt bear mine blades.” She dumped two daggers infront of him. “How do these work?” He wondered out loud, but accepting them gracefully. “Thou seekest power? Thine enemy art death's ally. Power to match thee be simple to us. Quickness be thine friend. Even so, verily shalt thine foe be a match for thee, but strength be for thine weak foes only. Kellwood be home to such as would make our finest tremble.” “Like thee” said Byron smiling slyly. “Nae. It be that I strikest fear in the hearts though they together be gathered. But we abandon our path. Thine body art weak. See thou gaspest yet but an hour be past. I shalt keen thine arms to thine weapons, but on the morrow I shalt make use of tools to strengthen thine blade.” So she taught him how to use the daggers. How to treat them as one. How to twist and slice out of a lock. Then, exhausted, she sent him to bed with a protein shake. In a few hours the alarm would ring and he would test his learning on the hunt. Alone.
-----
It was in her favourite copse she met him. He took her hand and danced a bloody dance. She feasted and laughed as the blood washed over her. His eyes gazed on her with desire. Over bushes, around trees, through meat. She had blood all over her. Laura giggled. She looked back on the bloody path they had trodden and grabbed a morsel from the latest creature to cross their path. It tasted so fresh. She put her bloody chin to Oren's chest. He held her. Suddenly she choked. Oren hit her on the back and something shiny flew out of her mouth. She bent down to pick it out. It was a platinum ring with a sky blue tanzanite. She looked at him curiously for a minute. “So my dear, will you.” She looked back at the trail of blood and destruction. Slowly realisation dawned on her. She went blank for a few minutes. “It's ok my dear, take your time.” He was cold, so cold. She missed the warmth of her father. Her mother. Faded memories. How had he done it, how had he manipulated her to this? She shoved him away viciously. “Do you think you can force me? What? Do you think I don't know the game you're playing. No! Never! Get away from me! Get away...” She fell to her knees crying. “Get away!” she sobbed tearfully. “You can't do this to me. You can't make me like you.” He reached forward to pick her up and take her to safety. “No! Didn't you hear me! Get away. Get away!” He watched her for a second. “As you wish.” he left her crying. He'd have to bribe Menu, he couldn't help now. Well, he thought, I'll just have to give it some time. He wasn't sure where had gone wrong. “Heya mutt!” “Heya fangace!” “I uh.. upset your minion. Here's a steak, go comfort her.” “Hey! You can't do that to me! I'm a free spirit.” “There were lots of leftovers...”
Something was approaching on the edge of her misery. “Y'know,” munch, “I's a sad day when a wolf leaves all this,” crunch crack smack, “stuff out. What happened hot stuff?” he said slapping her on the back casually. “Oren proposed to me.” “So why you so miserable?” He really was clueless wasn't he. A smile and a small laugh broke through her misery. Somehow he always managed to cheer her up. There was none of that vampire sire attachment stuff, but he just had that effect. “The b*?#&! killed my parents.” her face drew in again. “Hawhawhawhaw, my minion dissed Charby's. Come babe, I've gotta tell him this.” She held him tight. He'd killed her parents too, but in the same way a wolf kills a rabbit. He was warm. He was her teddy. She hugged him, and her teddy hugged her back. She realised, for all her misery she'd finally gotten one up on Oren, and smiled a weak, teary smile. *** What? Did you think I'd give Oren an easy ride! This isn't really a romantic story so if there is any it's either going to be twisted, or complicated in a, hopefully, non-soap-opera way. ;D Ref 150-
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Post by nightreflection on Jun 16, 2012 12:26:53 GMT -5
Part CXIIThe alarm yelled at him at eleven. Last night's hunt had drained him, but he had torn through demons. If there had ever been any doubt about this path it was gone. He balanced a dagger by the hilt and it glowed as it responded to his light with its own. He had given up his birthright to hunt, yet he was using weapons only attainable by birthright. How ironic. They sang to him, songs of purity. At least they didn't seem to mind. He carefully prepared for the day and soon found himself in the training room refining his movements. Elizabeth arrived and stood in the doorway quietly watching for when he had worked the roughest edges out of his technique. He pretended to notice her for the first time. She smiled. “It be well that though seekest perfection, but beware, such eludes all. Now thine strength be meager. It hadst left mine thoughts how mine days wert with parry and thrust consumed. Mine patience be long, but not needful. This draught shalt speed thine growth, but shalt cause thee pain most great. Thou shalt drink deeply of it ere thou vexest thine strength.” Without hesitating or questioning Byron took the vial and drank in one chugging as was prescribed for potions. As he was finishing pain ripped through his muscles, he felt like his body was on fire. He fell on his hands and knees. He would have thrown it up if he hadn't had preliminary training. But even those without dedicated trainers learned how to take a potion. “Good, now shalt thou flex thine muscles.” And Elizabeth pointed to the gym. His whole body was in pain, but he managed to stand. In a deformed voice he managed to ask “Wh... what?” “Thou hast drunk deeply of the venom wolfsbane. It doth flow through thee.” “I'm going wolf hunting?” The words came out wrong. His lips were going numb. “It maketh thee as the wolf, it be a cure for only the turning, then it be late, but to the pure it doth the strength of the wolf impart. Thine power shalt stay with thee shouldst thou exert thineself.” “Bu, but” he groaned trying to stand, but making it only to his knees. “Stand thou shalt, and train thou shalt, the pain thou shalt bear.” He blacked out the world and stood. The pain screamed through his body. As he began to move he went numb. It was difficult training without feeling but he managed. ----- The hill was desolate. One of the few that had no trees. A figure stood on the apex wearing a brown robe with a hood covering the face. It had been an obscure tip, but it was all he had. The stranger remained motionless as he approached. The sun beat down oppressively. They had no shadows. “Show your face.” “So that poison tried to recruit you did he? Even now his fingers dig deeply into the underworld. I can help you fight him. But he seeks me. Should he find me he will make short work of me, so I must hide my face.” “What do you want?” “I want to bring down that demon and his horde and rid the world of his kind forever, but especially of him. Here, I have brought a token of goodwill.” A box clunked onto the ground and Douglas carefully pulled it towards him without taking his eyes of the stranger. The stranger remained silent as he lifted the box and opened it with one eye on the stranger. As he prised open the lid light streamed out from within. The box opened its maw to reveal a plain, but slightly curved blade. It shone with light and he could feel its holiness. “Tonight you shall test it. Do not approach the demon directly, he is too strong for you, but in time you shall be ready. Take it south of the woods. Those puppets of his have imposed a no-fighting zone. We shall deal with that later, but below it is a place where their kind live in comfort. Destroy as many as you can. If you return tomorrow I may have some proper work for you.” The figure remained motionless as Douglas closed the box. “Oh, I intend to be back.” Douglas gave one final glance as he reached the bottom of the hill. The figure was still there, motionless. *** What's this? Competition I see? Hmm... better snuff it out quick. Ref 151-
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Post by nightreflection on Jun 19, 2012 16:14:55 GMT -5
Part CXIII
“ ‘Sup minion?” “Sire, I've been looking at the demonic laws governing the forest. There are so many and they change constantly. I hate to say it, but I think we need someone who loves law. They do exist.” Charby laughed hysterically. “Oren, you crack me up sometimes. Nobody cares about the laws, not even the high-ups, they're just put there to make someone's life miserable.” “Well that's a relief. Wait a minute. Does that mean I've spent the last five days wasting my time?” Charby let out another burst of laughter. “Yes!”
-----
Lance looked around nervously. The boy should be out at about now. He walked up the path and tapped on the door. It opened to reveal Elizabeth's face. He'd found her company quite pleasant. He could hold a deep conversation with her without the subject of blood coming up.
They were both overdressed as usual. She seated him and made for the kitchen. He gently placed a box of her favourites on the table.
“Forsooth, mine infirmity knowest thou!” she said rustling the paper in the box. She knew where they all were by touch. It was just as well she couldn't put on weight. They talked politely about this and that. They were the only two who wore faces when they were alone.
“Elizabeth,” Lance fidgeted nervously, “we get along so well, I was wondering if..” She looked at him not quite sure where he was going. “w... would you marry me?” and with that he fluidly drew a tiny box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a platinum and diamond ring. Elizabeth broke out into an hilarious laugh. She couldn't help it. Lance looked like he'd just found out he had an hour to live. “I.. I don't understand. We would be a perfect match. What. What have I missed?” he stammered quietly. Even if he'd been refused, he didn't expect this.
Elizabeth calmed down and sat properly. She dropped her face. “Let thine gaze upon my visage fall Lance. Sweet, young heart. What seekest thou? What wouldst thou desire of mine person? Shalt I bear thee a child? Nae, my sweet. Thou flatterest me with thine offering, but death art a master most cruel.”
Lance looked at the floor dejectedly. He slowly snapped the box shut. He had barely moved. It was half way to his pocket when he changed his mind. There was a gentle click as he set it on the marble table. He stood up to leave. She was about to speak “No my dear, no. I will be fine. I just need time.”
-----
One heart breaks, another rejoices. His name was Jacques. They had met over dinner. The carcass had been warm. He had been warm. They rejoiced in their love. They danced through the forest. He held her close. He smelt strong, like a real man should. Not like that walking corpse from three weeks ago. She had taught him control, and he had rejoiced in it. He did not have the manners of others, but he was learning. When she looked at him all she could see was his smile. She had rescued him from the forest. He was her stray.
*** Tutt tutt. Losing control Oren. Too bad.. ref 152=
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Post by nightreflection on Jun 25, 2012 17:01:45 GMT -5
Part CXIV Byron had grown quickly. He could now perform manoeuvres that required a lifetime of muscle building, and he continued to grow. “Aaaah” came the scream from the training room. “Child, I thought thee beyond this.” “It be my bones mother.” He'd taken to calling her mother. His own wouldn't speak to him any more. He'd taken it hard, but while not a counted cost, he'd borne it without complaint. She changed her attitude when she saw his arm dangling loose. The upper arm bone had snapped completely. The wolfsbane had made him so used to pain. She examined it closely. No external bruising, it had given in under sheer muscular power. “Cleanse thee in the fount. I shalt brew a remedy.” “Yes mother.” he said, grateful to not have to work the broken arm.
In an hour she stood in the door and slid a heavy potion over to him. “Concern thyself not, it be light magic, but purify ye the vessel.” He reached out with his good hand as the door closed and held the vial in the water and chanted. The dark aura of his mother's touch faded. He downed the potion quickly and stood up. Clean and healed he went back to the training room.
Nae child, vex not thyself this day. Rest thee. Take the time for thyself such as thou desirest each day. Fear not child, the road be long and the first steps harsh, but in the time when thine strength be sufficient to thy cause, thou shalt have more for thyself.” “I have a concern mother.” “Speak son.” “What must my action be should I meet thee in the forest? How shall I know it be thee?” Elizabeth laughed lightly, “Why, thine blade shalt against mine rise. Let it not concern thee, thine wounds ne'er grevious shalt be. Now, begone.” “Actually, I was hoping to get a word in myself.” came a voice from the entrance. “Master Oren.” Byron said bowing. “No need for formalities lad. And how art you my dear?” He rolled his eyes “You've got me doing it now too.” “Brother, thine presence art most welcome, yet thou settest not thine foot within mine home without reason. Praytell, wherefore dost thou bless me with thine visage?” “Your charge is still using your weapons, I thought I'd give him some of his own.” Byron's heart leapt. Oren was known as a master craftsman, and he'd always wanted his own. “Thou art most welcome, but I fear thou castest slight upon mine brethren. Mistake not mine intent, mine eye perceivest the blades be perfect no more, but thou shalt bestow respect regardless.” “No my dear. I mean no disrespect. I have read your family's creed, and those weapons aren't yours. On the death of a Mauriello their blades are recovered and passed on by the family head. It is one of the few sacred services.” Elizabeth smiled, “I perceivest thine wisdom art not departed yet. Yet verily thou didst defile the sacred service afore.” “I try,” said Oren grinning. He was wearing his face. He knew Lance and Elizabeth sometimes struggled. “And it was to catch you. Did you expect yourself to be cheap? I didn't.” “I smell water. Contact session earlier?” “No m'lord, I broke something.” “Ah, well, you're going to have to go for another swim.” Oren put the box down. “This isn't like the weapon I gave your mother. Hers was neutral so that it would serve her after she had been turned. Yours also has no light or dark enchantment, but it is different, it will take the first light that enters it and bond with it, making a light enchantment. So before you open the case, purify yourself and the box, so that the enchantment may be pure and powerful. I have tried as best I can to meet your mother's specifications.” Byron gingerly took the box. He held it with shaking hands and carefully left.
“Which brings us to you my dear. You don't need training blades any longer.” “Thou art correct. It be mine right for the scheming of mine fall was thy doing, yet what necessity be right, or virtue, in this darkness? I thank thee for thy kindness.” “You are my sister, not my minion, but even so, I feel responsible. You are the warrior, tell me what you want.” “Obsidian sword. Made of one whole. Black in both colour and power. Enchanted its form to heal. Perhaps returning from being cast. Returning from loss. Strengthen the blade and if there be any room left, the enchantments on my old blades will suffice.” “I will do as best I can.” *** Stuff.. I need stuff to say. I really have to stop powering up my characters, but I don't use most of it so I suppose it's not too bad. Ref 153-
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Post by nightreflection on Jul 9, 2012 15:28:16 GMT -5
Part CXV It took a few days. Oren had hoped to primal some up and slap on the enchantments, but the obsidian was stubborn and rejected enchantment. He ended up having to create a forge and do the enchantments while the stuff was hardening. He got to the luxury house that Elizabeth called home. A sweaty Byron answered the door and guided him to Elizabeth's workshop. It seemed he wasn't the only one bent over a fire. Light streamed through the glass ceiling. Elizabeth sure had strange tastes. She had been working on a tonic. “It be to strengthen the bones. Thy thoughts?” Oren dipped his finger in and tasted it. “If you're going to cook it one more hour I'd say it's fantastic. Did you run the recipe by Mye?” “Truly she art skilled in the dark arts. Her kin wert most helpful too.” Oren breathed in through his teeth. “Hex? It's gonna be painful.” “Byron be comfortable in much vexation. It be nought.” She put down the bowl she was working with and turned to face Oren. He laid a sword on the table gently. With a bland expression she picked it up and whipped it through the air. A black aura surrounded it and followed the flow of its movement. Occasionally poison would drip off the hilt guard. It was made from one piece of magically created and moulded obsidian. Her face betrayed a flicker of sadness. “I can redo it.” She put her hands on the table and a tear welled in her eye. “If I am not good enough, I will track down someone who is for you. You are worth it to us.” “Let my brother not mistake my downcast demeanour for disappointment.” she said, sadly but softly. “Behold such a blade.” She held it out in front of her. The aura died and she twisted it to catch the light. “In all the places where my feet hath trodden, never couldst such work of the hammer be found. E'en the mighty weapons of my brethren pale. Truly a master standest before me. None can match thee save them that crafted the blade of sire.” “Thank you sister. I hold my work closer to my heart than myself. And now, I must leave. Fare the well.” “Fare the well. Oh, and wouldst thou be so gracious to summon the child ?” “Byron your mother wants you!” he shouted. And looked back at an indignant Elizabeth with a smirk. Byron passed him on the way out. “Thanks now she will give me a lecture in conduct most proper.” He wasn't looking as sweaty or worn out as he usually did, but Oren had a suspicion that would change soon.
“Aww, how come thou gettest to wield a sword?” “Mine flesh be not limited such as thine.” Elizabeth smiled. “Within the hour this mix be complete. Thou shalt drink hereof on the full moon. It shalt mix metal in thine bones. On the morrow thou shalt resume training in earnest, but for this time, please be thou a gentleman and fetch this weary mind refreshment.”
He left happily to fetch tea and a few chocolates. She had been surprised. She had half expected him to groan at the thought, but he embraced his training so enthusiastically. She wondered why when she saw a note he had dropped. It was from the Mauriello family. He had slyly asked them for training progress of past family members to compare his to. They had gladly obliged and replied with the most successful they had, with a little embellishment, thinking to dishearten him with his inferior progress. But they were the fools. With the new techniques alone he was making marginally more progress, and now that he was on wolfsbane there was no comparison.
-----
Laura was over the moon. Jacques had proposed to her. It had been a moonlight night, but in a quiet clearing over a romantic picnic. None of Oren's savage indulgence, rather, a polite, well-mannered gesture. She had accepted of course, they just seemed to go so well together. It had only been a few weeks, but they were so madly in love. That had been last night. This night they were hunting. They caught a whiff of a bear. They looked at each other. It was instinctive. They circled around. She burst out of the bushes and chased the bear towards him. It was too busy panicking to see Jacques. He lashed into it powerfully, ripping the carcass wide open. He stood in the moonlight, strong, with his right paw in blood. He was entranced with it. He licked it and they started to devour the meal. “I'd watch the temper on that one.” He appeared from nowhere, walking casually, and vanished just as quickly, but not before Jacques growled. He lunged at where Oren wasn't. “I don't care what you think,” she said slipping back into her human form for a few seconds, “we are over, now get out of my life and don't come back you rotting corpse!” Her heart fell a little. She missed the days when he used to respond. When he used to argue with her. But that was gone now, she had a new love. *** mmm... chocolates. I really need to stop writing Elizabeth in so much. ref 155-
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Post by nightreflection on Jul 31, 2012 14:20:16 GMT -5
Part CXVI The days dragged into weeks. He felt himself slipping. He knew time would heal, but he felt like it was taking forever. He stepped through the portal and flew over to the cabin. If he was going to mope someone might as well get some entertainment out of it.
Charby sighed as he saw the look. “Avast mopey d..” Oren put his hand over Charby's mouth. “Impolite” he said distantly. “Yarhar, like that matters between demons.” “It's not working sire, I can't get her off my mind.” he pondered for a minute. “How long does it take sire?” “Oh, nothing much. A few decades maybe.” Oren sighed and looked at the floor sadly. “I have the time, but I don't want to pay it. It's too early in my development.” He stood up forcefully and flew off to find something to distract him.
He saw a familiar face in the crowds. It came nearer. “Mr Redford?” “That's me.” “Paul. How are you doing?” He extended his hand warmly. “Coping.” he said with a smile. Sometimes he could almost forget. “But I don't shake. You know that. How is life on the outside treating you?” “Pretty good, the stuff you taught us really gave us a leg up, and the donation and job helped too.” “Glad to hear it.” “I've figured it out you know. And I don't regret it. As hard to believe as it is.” Oren tilted his head slightly as he looked at him and smiled, “You wouldn't be the first to tell me that and then go on to completely embarrass yourself Paul.” “To be honest half a pint a month is nothing compared with what you taught us.” “But I taught you nothing.” Oren smiled. “Oh come on, those nurses were totally zombified.” “No, I'm just that good at screening.” “Nice try, but there is no way a child could donate that much blood without side effects. I know you put something in our food.” Oren smiled wryly. “So you've figured it out have you. I hope you stay away from us. Seriously,” he looked directly at Paul, “we're bad news. Even to those we love.” He sighed thoughtfully. He shook Paul's hand. There was more to life. He would get there eventually.
-----
Oren woke early. He decided to fly over and see how his love was doing. Jacques had just moved in, but the short term hurt might just save him some long term grief. He smelt blood as he approached. He dived towards the far side of the house. Jacques was lying on his back on rubble. Icky red blood clotted his fur. There was a rough hole over his heart. He landed and heard a quiet sobbing.
“Come my dear, I said he had a temper on him.” he said putting his arm around her pale form. The house had been devastated. Smashed pottery and porcelain figurines lay everywhere. “He.. he wanted the bone.. but it was mine.. It wasn't even a good bone..” she wailed and looked at him, begging him to understand. “Yes, yes he did.” He saw it in her eyes, how a simple tease had been seen as insubordination. As soon as he was in the den he had wanted to dominate. Things had gone sour in the night. Oren looked back at the corpse. “Been taking lessons from Lucy have we?” A weak ray of a smile broke through the teary face for a second. “Well if I couldn't have hi...” her voice trailed off into a wail. “Why? I was so perfect, wh-hy?” She put her teary head against his chest. Slowly she assumed the form she was familiar with around him. Her bloody right paw staining his cloak. “Shhh.. It's over now.” She would be so easy to take advantage of. He could bend her to his will. But that would never do. He was a subversive tempter to be sure, but he generally liked his victims to make the decision in a sound frame of mind. Desperate, but sound.
He held her until she let sun-up reverse her. He sat her on a torn couch and made her breakfast. He used primal magic to repair the wall and cleaned up the mess. She sat there slowly eating breakfast, lunch, dinner. He left her alone as the sun set. She would have to work through this herself.
***Yes, you aren't rid of me that easily. ref 156-
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Post by nightreflection on Aug 19, 2012 16:37:13 GMT -5
Part CVI Elizabeth sat contemplating over a hot chocolate and, well, a box of chocolates. She was dipping them in chocolate fondue. He's come quite far, but it seems we've run into another problem. She flipped the page of the magic tome. Ah, here. Skin repair. I suppose we could boost it with mangrove leaf extract, but for combat I want something a bit more resistant. By the time she tracked down something useful she was out of chocolates. Stoneskin huh?. Well, I guess a classic will do. It is anti-magic after all which is a nice bonus, but we will have to find a way to make it more permanent. Hmm.. now if we use this.. she reached for a worn tome. Ahh, binding it to his spirit would make it last, but it would make him weaker, hmm... But then it would be like blood donations. He would get used to them in time and his spirit would just churn out more energy, still, would need an off button for when he's dangerously low on energy. Oops.. out of chocolate, that will have to do then.
-----
It had been a few hours since Oren had left. Laura had started crying again, and stopped. The dry tear trails cracked each time she moved her face. She crawled over to the phone, wildly flailing her arms like a pup. She curled up in the chair next to it and punched in a number. “Lucy, I need your help.”
-----
The shadowy figure stood at the end of the alley. “You may approach.” Douglas carefully, but quickly ran down the alley to him. “Enough.” Douglas stopped obediently. “The elites are going to be busy in the north, but do not let your guard down. One of Rodericke's groups is looking for herbs in the south. Locate them and chase them up north. The more conflict we incite the better, but keep the ranking member behind. Tie him up and leave him. I want to see if he knows anything about an Elite weakness.” “They have a vulnerability?” “I have no idea. It's an option I have to explore. I have found nothing yet. Dismissed.” Douglas quietly cleared the fence. It was as he had been told. He used a magestone the shadow had given him to conjure the image of an elite and grabbed the officer in the confusion. He returned in the morning to check on the vampire. He had been sufficiently interrogated.. and dismembered by the tell-tale ashes scattered everywhere. Whoever this guy was, he was good.
-----
Azelea was miserable. The forest had been unpleasantly poorly stocked and she'd had to spend the last seven miles shrunk because something loud liked the smell of her. She'd gotten totally lost three times, and now that she was here, she didn't have a clue where to start. The ruins had been somewhere in this dense foliage, she recognised the flowers. She'd tried convincing the boys to bring here back here, but oh no, they were far too busy, or it was too much effort. Some of them even laughed. Laughed. Can you believe it? At her, that was inexcusable. Just wait until she had some power behind her. She'd show them. They'd have to respect her. Or else.
It took forever to find. The trees lead her astray, and from the air you could see nothing, but eventually the overgrown brickwork of the shrine greeted her. She confidently buzzed over to the first dial and turned it. There was a rising hum and she shrunk just in time to avoid a lightning bolt. Shaken, but sure she'd had it right, she carefully tried the second. A huge boulder smashed past her into the forest. She stared at her cartoony redrawing of the map. There had been warnings of these, but they hadn't show up the first time. Someone must have fixed the traps. “&%$£# vampire!” she swore out loud. It had taken her years to get her eyes on the map again, and now this. Didn't he realise how important it was to a fairy. She wouldn't dominate them. Much.
After a few narrow escapes the greedy little fairy's eyes peeked into the darkness. She was about to move down the stairs when a curious green mist flickered in the gloom. Gas! She flew outside and pressed herself against the stone, her heart beating heavily. She felt it move behind her and froze. A few seconds later the door boomed shut. Her head fell to her chest and she started to cry. She turned around and beat on the door “It's not fair you hear me. Not fair!”
***I enjoyed playing with Az for a change. Ref 157=
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Post by nightreflection on Sept 6, 2012 16:44:50 GMT -5
PART CXVII It had been a few days. Laura seemed to be good at getting over things. That said, she should be by now after all he'd put her through. He passed Lucy on the way in. “How's she doing?” “Fine, she's over it already.” “Thank you.” “Sometimes it just takes a woman's touch.” she said softly with a smile to match. “Here Lucy, I want you to have this.” “Ooh, shiny, but the answer is “no”.” Oren laughed weakly. “No my dear, it's not an engagement ring.” “Ooh.” she said eyeing it out in the sunlight. “I've given everyone an unfair advantage. It's about time you had one.” “What does it do?” her eyebrows perked up. She didn't exhibit the jubilation he'd expected. But then, she knew how he ticked. “Translocation. Once an hour on average it will move you, although if you fancy a trip to the Maldives you'd better set a week aside.” She smiled curiously. “Thank you Oren. It will come in very handy.” They went their separate ways. Oren knocked quietly on the front door. A bloody muzzle answered. “Oh, so I have to die to get you to knock. Nice to know.” “Pretty much yes. I don't really have patience for mortals. It's not disrespect for my lunch, but they freak out about everything.” “You'll have to wait for dinner.” she said getting to the point. There was a half-eaten goat on a stone table she'd had built specially. Blood dripped off the sides. “May I?” She looked up. “Mwrf, not sharing.” and then her face shifted back to a muzzle. Oren rolled his eyes, sat down and watched her. She was a beautiful beast to behold. She tore at the meat with a powerful neck and claws. He sighed. As she licked the last morsel off the table he posed the question. “So Laura, do you think you could ever love me? I don't want to hurt you.” She sat down and shifted her muzzle just enough for speech and calmly reflected Oren's quiet, caring tone, “I'm sorry Oren. I know you really love me, but I just can't put what you are, what you did, behind me. Believe me, there are few more eligible bachelors out there, but I just can't.” “That's alright Laura. I understand. Thanks for not leading me on. It's good to see you healthy again. You need anything, just let me know. I know the student-master thing hasn't always worked out between us, but I'm also there for you.” “I know Oren, our friends are what make us strong. By the way, was that a teleportaion ring I saw you give to Lucy?” “Sneaky little mutt you are. That's a handy trick.” He smiled stood and slowly walked out. As he reached the door he caught a whiff of a thought. Ahh.. so she's enchanted her nose to smell magic. She never ceased to amaze him. “Get out of my head you walking corpse!” “Only when you get out of mine.” Oren smiled. Soon she would be too big for the four. But he had not found any worthy since. It looked like he would have to start cradle-snatching.
***Long silence, but still here. ref 158-
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Post by nightreflection on Sept 30, 2012 16:37:14 GMT -5
PArt CXVIII The little bloodsucker was fast. He ducked and weaved. It was like he knew the alleyways backwards. Just as soon as he thought he'd got him he'd vanish down some hole or over a wall. It was like he was playing. Eventually he lost him. What a surprise to bump into him later. “I have you now vampire, you have nowhere to run. Leave the girl alone.” “Matthew!” “Sis, run, I can handle it.” The little vampire charged him. His stance was woefully weak, but he charged nevertheless. Douglass stood stunned. Matthew stopped. As soon as the girl was safe he vanished. He didn't get it. He was a vampire. Why would he protect anyone? He hadn't had the confidence to attack directly before and yet he still risked his life for her. Most of his kind would have made dinner of it. He walked away knocking himself on the side of his head. For the life of him he didn't get it.
----- The stoneskin variant had worked. He didn't need more, but she might as well. Perhaps this is what Hex felt like? The irresistible urge to meddle. Maybe a mandrake base, how boring, hmm.. this one looks interesting, oak, ash and hawthorne. Acorns were in season. No, too defensive. Perhaps some basil to colour the enchantment. Ooh, here we go, elder wood shavings. She came to a paragraph on witch hazel. No good, no good, but I do believe I have some.. She came back a minute later with some hazel. Nuts. In chocolate. She continued through the witches’ book of spells but found nothing else. That would do anyway. One magic boost coming up she thought as she popped the last square of chocolate in her mouth.
“Cooking again mother?” The sweat was dripping off Byron. He used to worry about it, but it wasn't in his training anymore, and they both cheated at cleaning with magic. It was Mauriello discipline to clean manually - they had more important things to do. “Ahh, mine flesh and blood.” “Just as long as I get to keep both.” he grinned cheekily. “I'm surprised you're still here.” “Mine soul be not mine. I doth mine hand for mine family proffer, but even where I art welcome, mine new brethren and duties comest afore.”
-----
Oren sat. Stared. Sighed. The door banged open and sire exploded into the room. “Hiya Mopey.” “Hello sire.” there was no life in his voice. “So how long are you going to bewail your fate?” “Well, sire,” he said perking up, “I gave myself half a day before the forced pickup, but since you're here I guess you're going to ruin my fun.” Charby broke down with laughter, hitting the floor. “You...you set a time to stop moping?” and he roared with laughter again. “I bet if you died proper you'd want to come back just to apologise.” but he was laughed out by now so he let it go with a sigh and a wipe of his eye. Oren smiled. “I could wait indefinitely, but I've got stuff to do.” “So what you going to do about the wench?” Oren sighed. “Whatever's best for her sire, whatever's best for her.” “Ooh... smitten!” Charby winked and made the gun signs with his hands.
*** Yes, the cheese continues. Ref 158=
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