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| | | | | | | | | | |  Name: Kassandra Nightshade Reason or Meaning of name: her given name Nick-name: Kassie Reason for nick-name: her dad called her that Age: 375 Apparent Age: 20 Sex: Female Hair: Blond Eyes: Blue Height: 5�?7�?/FONT> Weight: 145lbs Type of body/build: she is well toned Piercing/Tattoos/Markings or Other: none Orientation: straight Occupation: Owner of the Vampire’s Lair Alignment: Neutral Race: Vampire Class: | Chronicle: | Desecration | | Concept: | Old Quiet Librarian | | Virtue: | Prudent | | Vice: | Pride | | Clan: | Mekhet | | Covenant: | The Circle of the Crone |  Appearance:
Clothing: Elegant and refined Items: too many to list Weapons: none Armor: none Personality: friendly, sweet, nice and honest Special Abilities: all those of a Vampire Spell Abilities: none Born Abilities: she was human and any that a human would have Hobbies: she has a few | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | History: The day of the execution had arrived. I awoke to a body screaming in pain. My legs had long since lost their use, so I hung painfully from my chains. I could no longer feel my hands. But the rest of my body was not so fortunate. The sensation of searing heat and sharp blades still lingered on my skin. Had the cruel laughter not stopped, I would not know that I was not being tortured. This only signaled the preparation for my final display of agony. Would that I could change my form, but enchanted chains had prevented me from doing so. Besides, I would not have the strength left for such a transformation anyway. My vision blurry and my hearing distorted, I hardly knew that I was being approached. Footsteps echoed down a hallway, drawing closer. The door to my chamber creaked as a trio entered. Two of them flanked me, while the third examined me to see if I was still alive. After he was satisfied, he nodded to the other two. They removed me from the chains, and I promptly fell to their feet. Simply laughing and hoisting me onto their shoulders, they carried me from the prison. Of this I am sure, but I was too dazed to remember the scenery. It was all a blur. * * * | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | I emerged from the prison. The sky was black, but judging from the positions of the stars, I assumed it was early morning. I saw no crowd. I found this odd, considering how many people had come to torture me. Would they not bare witness to my execution? I must have worn a puzzled expression, because the executioner turned to me and said, "You'll not die now." He pointed to two crossed boards. "The good Duke wants you to suffer first." "No. No!" I tried to resist, even attempted to transform. This made the guards laugh even harder. This would be the most painful form of torture that I could be subjected to before my death. I had heard tales of crucifixion, but had never believed that such a barbaric method of torture was still practiced today. The guards tied me down to keep me in place. The executioner then went to work. From a nearby sack, he procured four long nails and a hammer. He placed a nail on my right wrist. The point was sharp enough to pierce my skin without pressure. I wished for something to grip, but I was not even afforded that luxury. He lifted the hammer and struck. I screamed in agony as the nail drove into my flesh. He pounded away in sadistic pleasure, grinning at my contorted face. Warm blood flowed from my wrist, spilling on the ground in a crimson pool. I nearly fainted, but he would have none of it. A solid blow to my chest with the hammer kept me awake. He finished with that wrist, then moved on to the left one. Again I screamed in pain. Each clang dug into my flesh and scraped against bone. My head dropped to my left, tears streaming down my face. I felt a blunt shock to my chest. Another. They now felt distant, almost nonexistent. Despite what he tried, I fell into unconsciousness. * * * | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | I awoke from my sleep. The air was hot, humid, and concealed in darkness. At first I thought it was a dark night, but even those have stars... and a moon. I was then concerned if my eyesight had failed, too. After all, I was unfamiliar with the fully developed symptoms of a vampire's hunger. Did we go blind under such harsh conditions? I could not tell at the moment. Besides, what good would eyes be to the dead...? I tried to move, and found it nearly impossible. No runes would prevent a transformation as none were needed. To do so would require the use of mana, and I had no energy left with which to process this magical force. My breathing had been excruciatingly restricted for this event. Humans could be mind-numbingly ignorant in such matters. Folklore would spread to the peasants and simple-minded alike, distorting the true nature of vampires. They would say I was undead. Fools... skeletons, zombies, ghosts; they were undead. I was immortal, to a certain degree, but still alive. Despite what the simpletons would say about me, I still had to breathe. I tried to take in a breath of air, and found out just how labored my respiration had been during my inactivity. I huffed and wheezed with each breath, still trying to come to my senses. I soon realized that a heavy cloth was draped over me. This explained why it was so hot: I had been left out during the day, the hot sun burning over an undoubtedly black sheet. As I breathed, I noticed that a large crowd had formed to witness my death. I was sure that I was becoming delirious when I smelled the air. Hundreds of scents, some foreign, others all too familiar. I could even tell that several men still wore Prescilla's aroma quite heavily. I surely would have laughed at this had I not been in such a grim situation. Among the spectrum of odors, I found phantoms of my past. Vordos, with the acrid stench of death all around him. King Tygon, who, though I can still not believe it, even smelled noble. Lor, even, reminding me of my hatred for him and his damned arrogance. I'd bet the bastard was still practicing necromancy, gaining favor from Vordos even after his death. Duke Grey was among the mob, as if it came to me as any surprise. My sense of hearing began to awaken next. "Murderer!" "Demon!" "Burn her!" The mob wanted blood tonight. Shouts, cheers, and obscenities could be heard as an angry roar from the crowd. I listened, or tried to, for a moment. It was apparently dusk. A hushed silence came over the crowd, so I deduced that the sun had finally gone down completely. I closed my eyes for the sudden rush of light that soon washed over me. Torch light, which I was used to, was still too bright for my tired eyes. At least I had not gone blind, but that offered me no comfort. It simply meant that I could see what was happening. *** | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | Slowly, I opened my eyes. I gazed out at the crowd: a hundred or so, standing in the streets. At the rear, seated above the rest, was the good Duke himself. By his side, the Duchess. All of them looked at me with a burning lust for death. I had been propped up on a wooden stage, set off center from where the executioner stood. He was attired in a ritualistic white robe, his face covered by a hood. I looked down and saw a pile of straw atop a bed of rocks. I would be burned where I hanged. Over the scene draped a thick layer of fog. Oh, how I wished to be able to change. Fog is the perfect disguise for a vampire in mist form. All that would limit my movement would be my will. Such thoughts were soon gone from my mind, though, as the crowd's attention turned to the executioner. He began his speech. "Today," the executioner bellowed, "we gather here to see the ending of an evil era. Vordos, only recently slain, passes on his demonic legacy through his minions. Now we must do our part in purifying what remains of his servants. This demon," he pointed at me, "is the last of the vampires to serve Vordos. Now we shall send her back to whence she came!" The crowd cheered, and the executioner grabbed a torch. A horrid chill ran to my bones in that moment, a feeling of death and despair washing over me. I couldn't tell if this was from my weakness or a premonition, only that I never wanted to feel it again. It left as soon as it had come. The executioner drew near, and I fell into a dreamlike trance. *** | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | A scream echoed from the far end of the crowd. People ran from it, concealing what transpired in the fog. A man cried out in dreadful pain. The smell of urine drifted my way, soon followed by that of blood. Guards tried to move through the crowd, but there were too many people blocking the path. The screaming abruptly stopped. Suddenly, a spray of blood shot into the group. Soon it was followed by his entrails, which flew above and even onto their heads. What remained of his skin and bones scattered in different pieces. The crowd watched in suspenseful horror; I in awe, waiting to awaken from my dream in reality's blaze. Something drifted through the crowd. I could not see it, but I observed its path. As it passed, people scurried around in chaos, shouting in panic. It moved to the rear of the crowd, once again out of sight. From its direction came the cracking of wood. A second later, a crude wooden javelin hurled its way above the people to where I was. No... a little lower... It rushed over to my left, beyond my field of vision. A familiar scream, then a thud; the executioner had been brutally impaled, and blood washed over my back. My turn to feel sadistic pleasure... The apparition moved to the crowd, somewhere in the center. Everyone made way around it, clearing a space in which I saw a single villager. He stood there, calling out in a strained voice, "H-hellp...m-m-me." His skin gradually became flushed, moving to a bright red, to purple, almost blue. He could not move, he was paralyzed. His eyes bulged, expanding beyond what I thought humanly possible. He staggered, producing a gurgle that almost sounded like a scream. His eyes popped, spewing blood and vitreous humor in front of him. Further still, his skin expanded, the gurgle grew to a moan. Finally, when his skin looked as if it could no longer contain what lied beneath, he exploded, strewing his entrails in all directions. A ghastly scream, ten times louder than any I had heard and clearly not of this world, flew out of him. I then knew that this was not a dream or hallucination, for such a cruel thing could not be conceived from my imagination alone. When I recovered from the initial shock, I looked at the spot where he had died. All that remained was a crimson skeleton, which stood motionless for a moment; then, with a clatter, it fell to the ground. The bloodshed was not yet over. *** | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | The crowd had now recovered from the initial shock of this attack. Three were already dead, surely more to come. They tried to run in all directions from where the bones lay. Instead, a few yards from where the edges of the crowds were, they discovered an invisible, magic wall. Like ripples in disturbed water. None would escape. Back in the center of the square, a small light formed in the air above everyone's heads. It began to move in a horizontal circle, slowly at first, then quickly growing in speed. As it circled, new lights formed in the ring. A moment later, the lights grew bright and intense. They burst into flames. Now there was a spinning ring of fire, growing larger by the second. I then realized the nature of this magic: it was a summoning spell. The ring of fire descended and burned on the ground. A bright portal opened in its interior. In a sudden rush of light, out flew a fire drake. With the build of a large bear, it was taller than any man here, a living fire with broad wings and a bulky dragon's body. It hovered in the air a moment, looking down on the crowd. I caught a glimpse at its eyes: burning red jewels of pure light. Now it would begin its assault. It swooped down into the crowd. Its arms reached out to the various people below. Its claws bore sharp, burning talons which cut through flesh like it was air. Those who it did not attack fled from the onslaught. Those who it did could not evade its fury. One man managed to escape a great sweep of its claws, and attempted to run. The fire drake reared its head back, inhaled deeply, and let forth a mighty fireball. It struck the man with heavy force, exploding on impact and leaving little to scream, let alone run. After seeing this, some of the more foolish villagers attempted to strike the drake. This only resulted in their hands melting in the heat and their garments catching fire. Enough were dead now so that the guards could push through the crowd. They drew their swords and attempted to strike, finding only that the blades would liquefy upon entering the beast. They were the next to go. *** | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | With no true opposition left, the drake would now kill the whimpering cowards that remained. I estimated thirty still lived. It flew over to the opposite side of the square, stopping in front of the huddled masses. Once again, it drew its head back. This time, it breathed a stream of pure fire into the crowd. About half were instantly immolated, a quarter more catching fire and dying in a frightened panic. I counted what was left after this: eight. The fire drake drew back its head a third time, now letting out a sharp, bellowing laugh. It beat its mighty wings, flew into the air, and dived back into the realm of Sorufey, the fire god himself. The portal shrank away, the ring of fire now leaving nothing more than a scorch mark on the ground. The invisible walls dispersed, and the eight that remained fled in terror. The attack having been over, I looked around me in disbelief. Various body parts lay in a chaotic pattern on the ground. In some places, all that remained were piles of ashes. The smell of burnt flesh was unbearably sharp, yet I could smell surprisingly little blood. Other than the three who were first killed, the others' wounds were instantly cauterized by the fire's intense heat. A great silence swept across this field of death now. I almost forgot to breathe during this ordeal, and I now panted heavily. I still couldn't believe it. A crowd of nearly a hundred, slain by a single spell. Such a conjuring required exorbitant amounts of mana, energy, and stamina. Only the most skillful or powerful magi could perform such a task. None that I had heard of had ever survived such a taxing ordeal. At least, those that were humans... *** | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | A whistling sound now rushed through the scene. I watched as the fog was swept away by a wind spell, revealing to me what remained of the scenery. The fog cleared, now revealing, at the back, Duke Grey. He floated in the air, unconscious or paralyzed. Around him, on the ground, were only ashes. I assumed these to be the remains of his personal guard, as well as the Duchess. Below him, a single cloud lingered. It drifted over to me, and in it I saw a face. It settled in front of me; then, it condensed and formed a figure. This man... he had pulled the strings behind my abduction and damnation a hundred years ago. He watched me all that night, from the tavern to the castle. I now recognized the presence I felt that night a week ago, that feeling of hatred, of passion, of jealousy... I gathered my strength to speak. "Lor..." "Save your strength." His scratchy voice clawed into my long-abated emotions. By now, though, I would gladly run back to Vordos himself to escape the burning flames meant for me. Even the ugly visage which stood before me would do. With a scarred face and bright red eyes on his bald head (and a voice to match), he would surely terrify any human I knew. But to me, he represented all I clung to since I had changed. And I hated him. Having over three hundred years to perfect the technique, Lor was an experienced practitioner of telekinesis. The nails which held me up ripped from both wood and flesh. The pain I felt this morning forced itself back into my limbs, almost an exact replica, only... faster. I fell to the ground. Blood flow which had now ceased began anew. Weakened, drained, pitiful, I lay in a spreading pool of my own blood. Without touching me, Lor turned my helpless form over. He then brought the unconscious Duke to hover above me. "Drink now, Ragath." He moved the Duke's arm above my mouth, which now lay agape. The wrist opened, revealing a bountiful quantity of blood. It spilled into my mouth, awaking my instincts to survive. I gagged and sputtered on the thin flow of blood. It poured over my face, my hair, my neck... I began to comprehend all I needed to know, grabbed his arm, and drained every last drop that I could manage to remove from his veins. The pure energy hit me with such force that I began to shake. My memory is tainted, but I believe in that moment, I had a seizure. Lor only stood above me, chuckling all the while. When the attack began to recede, he spoke to me. The blood ushered in a new sense of awareness. I clung to every word. "The night is still young, Kassandra, and we are not safe here. We must leave this city and make camp for now." * * * | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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| | | | | | | | | | | "They won't go away." He had apparently noticed my constant observation of the scars all over my body. There were too many to count. On my arms, on my chest, my stomach, my feet. I was only so lucky that my face had not been tampered with. Lor, on the other hand, was not so fortunate in his past. On his skin was etched the scars of over three hundred years of life. I looked back into his horrid, burning eyes across the campfire. "I know." I looked at the body parts lying in front of me. Lor may have given me Duke Grey to feed on, but that was not enough for seven days of starvation and torture. I had to carry some various limbs from the execution site to our encampment at the outskirts of the city, picking at the scabs to get to cold blood. And yet, I was not bothered by this. After all, it kept me alive, and hadn't I become a vampire to escape death in the first place? Life... what good had it done me so far? Over a hundred years of it, and all I had learned to do was kill. Come to think of it, I knew how to do that well enough when I was... oh, how long ago had it been? I couldn't tell. By now, I had long forgotten such minor details as exact years. First I measured time in years, then decades, then, like Lor, in centuries. Had he even learned more than I? No, I decided. He only learned more extravagant ways of killing. Still, what power he had! I was surprised to see how strong he truly was. I had never had a chance to witness Lor's full strength, which I could now see greatly surpassed my own. However, I could see he was drained from the experience. Why would he waste such an extreme amount of power on me? My hatred was mutually felt, only he always had the upper hand. So what would he gain from my freedom? I decided to ask him. "Why did you rescue me?" He stared back across the fire for a moment. Then, looking away from me, he responded, "We are the last of our kind. After Vordos's downfall, many of his servants were hunted down and killed. Only a handful remain, and we are the last two vampires." He looked back up at me. "I don't want to run forever, hunted like an animal. When I realized I would need your help, I began to track you down. When word got out that Duke Grey's daughter had been killed by a vampire, you were easy enough to find." "You said you needed my help. For what?" "I told you, I don't want to run forever." "So, what do you have in mind?" "With the Council chasing after us, we can't stay in one place for long. I will leave tomorrow night. Will you come with me?" "That depends on where you plan to go." He nodded in understanding. "Well, they have Vordos's fortress blocked off for the moment. Most of our old outposts have been found and stormed. I honestly don't know where to go. You were my last lead on anything that might help. Tomorrow I will head east." "Why east?" "It's as good a place as any, unless you can come up with a better idea." "Hmm..." I didn't quite believe what he said. How could I? But, seeing no other choice in the matter, other than making quite a powerful enemy, I made my decision. "Very well. I'll go with you. Just keep in mind, I don't trust you." "Oh? Have you already forgotten what I just did for you? I said I saved you because I need your help. It's still the truth. If you don't believe me, don't come with me." "I believe you need my help. However, I still don't know what you need my help for. What exactly do you plan to do if I assist you?" His confident manner faltered. He narrowed his eyes at me, wishing I had not found this question to ask. "You wish to know my intentions for your freedom? Very well. I hoped I would not need to employ this method, but I shall remind you that I saved your life. You owe me, Kassandra. If you intend to repay me, then hold your tongue. Cooperate with me, and I will ask no more of you after this." I scoffed at him. "And how long will you need my cooperation?" "Only as long as my... project... lasts." "Well, then, until it is over, I'd suggest we both watch our backs." | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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