TVC II Chapter 4 - The Queen of Mysteries

[Mello]

Alastor's expression hardened into the familiar setting of coping with extreme isolation, with a grim expression, he smiled ruefully.

"Of all the bloodlines, I'd be in the one hunted into extinction." glancing forlornly at Sylvie and gestured to the now empty carriages.

"They look like they can hold secrets"

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie let out an irritated sigh they had just got out of the damned boxes “Alright then” moving over to the closest carriage Sylvie ripped the door open with a solid bang and climbed inside bending low to avoided banging her head on the roof, and glancing briefly over her shoulder catching Alistors eyes subtly glance at her backside . “Enjoying the view” she purred using her best bedroom voice, and burst out laughing as the flush that appered on the younger Strigoi’s face. Sitting down Sylvie threw her feet up on the head rest across from her “get in here and sit down, let’s get the learning out of the way.

 

[Mello]

Alastor looked down in a mixture of anger and frustration at himself.. he thought he had got over these... base feelings. With a blur he appeared inside the carriage and, after steadying himself, sat down, then stood up as he decided the chairs were too comfy for his liking.

"All right, what is there to tell me" he asked almost witheringly, clearly depressed about his luck.

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie smirked slightly at Alastor’s unease, before leaning back into the plush covering and closed her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts “Tell me child what do you already know of our line?” she asked quietly.

 

[Mello]

Alastor shrugged.

"Specific to Strigoi? only that we seem to turn out more... bestial, why I am not like you yet I can't say I know. Is there anything else that... happens?" he had turned a little... whiter than his pale sheet white, possibly out of fear, or pretend fear.

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie’s eyes remained closed “we do not all become as beasts, a few of us become disjointed from the world and become spirits solidifying only to feed, you are young yet and you feed upon the living no?” she asked.

“The first sign that the harrowing is upon you….” Sylvie shuddered at the unwanted memory “is a missive increase in the thirst, blood becomes the only thing in your world to the point where you would throw yourself upon a foes sword to get at his throat, as to the change itself no Daemon of hell could devise a more excruciating torture it tears you apart body mind and soul, drawn out over weeks sometimes months, blood is the only relief and you shall feed upon anything you can catch the living, the dead, beasts it doesn’t matter only that there is BLOOD!” with a feral snarl Sylvies cheeks split apart releasing her fangs, her eyes snapped open and the emerald color had turned blood red, for a moment Alastor stared at the snarling visage of an enraged Varghulf, before Sylvie turned away chest heaving as if she had just left a bout of ferocious love-making.

“T'is an event that none of us escape sane, even the merest scent of fresh untainted mortal blood is enough to turn me into nothing more than a rabid beast, it is for that reason I only feed upon the blood of the freshly dead, if the body has died within a year it is sustenance enough for survival” she croaked out still staring of to the side.

 

[Mello]

Alastor smiled briefly.

"A solitary life where I have to cope with my own monstrousness, reminds me very much so of my transition from human to vampire."

He rested his chin on his hands and smiled, less warmly.

"I despise human kind anyway, tearing their throats out is just a more... unwieldy way to wreak my revenge.. Tell me Sylie. Do you ever blame anyone for how you have become who you are?"

Alastor's eyes, although young and innocent, seemed disturbingly sharp as they looked up at Sylvie.

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie let out a short humorless laugh “vengeance is a fools gambit, there are no victors in the end all parties lose” she sighed “No I do not blame anyone for my fate, it was my lapse in judgment, yes I could rage like a child and cast the blame at those around me but it would not undo what is already done”.

 

[Mello]

Alastor idly stroked his finger over his mask.

"So you're seeking forgiveness, you blame yourself."

His thumbs fiddled nervously through each other.

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie ran a hand through her hair, and sighed “Guilt will kill you just as swiftly, anyhow why does someone have to be blamed?” she asked “not that I’m that surprised, amongst our Bloodline blaming others is the normal response.

 

[Mello]

Alastor smiled grimly.

"Blaming others is the normal response for anything Sylvie. Just because I have a different half-facae to others' I was blamed for stupid things like bad weather and some child dying from epilepsy. Truth is I strangled that boy but the point still stands." he chuckled drily.

Rubbing his eyes with his hands he sighed and leant back against the seat.

"How can anyone enjoy politics such as this? I'd much rather be either alone, or taking my stress out on... uhm.." he frowned, evidently confused. "People...."

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie looked at Alastor blankly “that is the way of mortals that which they do not understand they seek to destroy, and for the most part it is wise, for often it is the work of the Fey or the Ruinous Powers, tis unfortunate but that is the way of things”.
Sylvie quickly glanced outside towards where the rest of the council were still speaking with the envoy “this is just a show as grand as any play, the Sisterhood has already agreed to help us if they haven’t, then we never would be able to get this close to their queen”

 

[Mello]

Alastor raised a confused eyebrow.

"Then why are they doing all this? Surely it's a huge waste of time and effort... when we could just go and speak to this... woman, whomever she is." he sighed at the stupidity of the world.

"You met this queen? What is there to know about her."

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie smirked wickedly “Nerferata, no I have never met the Queen of Mysteries, but I know of her, she is the first Vampire, and so thinks it her right to rule over all Vampires, She hates all Vampires not of her line because we do not serve her, she also loathes men, I don’t envy you right now, and she is said to be the most beautiful woman in existence” she laughed dryly “Si tout va pisser, at least there will be a nice pair of breasts to look at”.

 

[Mello]

Alastor rolled his eyes.

"You know sometimes you're much more akin to a male than a female. Why do you care so much about what people look like? Its those you cant see who are the danger."

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie stared at Alastor, with a somewhat disappointed expression “why so narrow-minded, I like men and women and it amuses me to inform everyone around of that, and as a bonus it helps people forget I capable of tearing their spines out” she smiled sweetly, flashing her fangs at the younger Strigoi. “And if I cared about what people looked like why on earth would I be in the company with a runty little minstrel, whom hides himself from the world behind a mask, do not presume I am so shallow….Alastor” a shadow crossed Sylvie’s face “No one ever sees Morr coming, I never, and I doubt you did”

 

[Mello]

Alastor lent back a bit as if to distance himself from Sylvie.

"Apologies, I thought is was a relief when you were so... easy to understand. Or so I thought" he smiled grimly.

"I could scare a man to death any day, yet I would never understand why it was I was scaring him. I thought you were otherwise. Evidently not. Forgive me."

With a somewhat depressed look Alastor looked down at his shoes and scraped a little mud off them, sighing. He almost looked betrayed.

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie sighed and her ears drooped, as she regarded him with a small frown “oh merciful Ushoran he’s all broody now, clever Sylvie now you have gone and alienated the only other Strigoi on the council this is why I never liked the artistic type their so sensitive” she thought.
“Come now” she said aloud “don’t sulk like a child, let’s talk about something else?” She sniffed the air curiously “Like for instance, who is the mortal whos scent, you are covered in is she your lover?”.

 

[Mello]

Alastor visibly stiffened..

"A lover is a indulgence I don't think I'll ever get Sylvie, I don't know what your.... history in these affairs.. Mine is nonexistent.. I can assure you. People don't want to become acquaintances, let alone lovers to me, let alone a vampire me." he sighed remorsefully at himself and looked up at Sylvie.

"She's a poor servant.. no slave the Carstein's owned. I couldn't bear to see such innocence ignorantly serving such arrogance.. I'm trying.. and failing to show her the truth of this world."

Alastor's grip tightened.

"How... rotten it is..."

 

[Harland]

Roland opened one eye. He was in the carriage, and sitting opposite him was Faust, furiously scribbling on his notebook. Roland could feel that the carriage was stationary.

The assassin rolled his shoulders, wincing as he was painfully reminded of his broken rib. Once he had checked all his weapons, he slowly rose, opened the door, and poked this head out. Upon seeing what was happening, he simply grunted.

The rest of the group, save Alastor and the Strigoi named Sylvie, had already exited their carriages, and were now standing before an entirely naked woman, behind whom were arranged a score or so of undead warriors.

He silently cocked his crossbow, then returned it to its easily accessible pocket. Composing himself, Roland exited the carriage and strode over to the vertical wall of rock on the other side, on which he leaned without a word – they were in a narrow, mountainous pass that was ascending gradually. He turned a brooding regard onto the commotion at the head of the convoy. It seems negotiations are off to a friendly start…

 

[Ghouly]

Sylvie shook her head slightly at Alastor’s words the boy was so naïve towards his nature to kidnap a girl from her home to save her it made, she was uncertain how things worked in the Empire but where this Bretonnia the Girl would be unable to return home or she would be flogged Peasants where forbidden to leave their lords fief. She chewed her lip slightly as she contenpletated Alastor’s next question as a Mortal she had been capable of seducing nearly anyone she took a fancy to, unconsciously her hand drifted up to play with one of the gold rings piercing her ear her way of remembering those few who had actually mattered she sighed “I have encountered a bit of a dry spell” she commented dryly,” if you’re looking for a quick tussle simply enthrall her either through hypnosis, or by feeding on her if you feed on a mortal long enough they become enslaved to your will, though I would not do such a thing it is too cruel"

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

Anya resisted turning to Dieter and the damn necromancer and telling them to shut the hell up. Establishing your presence was one thing, insulting a scion of the Queen of Mysteries on her doorstep was another, especially when they were looking to earn her favour and her loyalty.

"I apologise for such comments," she began, stopping in surprise as the Lahmian simply laughed, a light delightful sound.

"Do not apologise for them, such base creatures cannot but help but think with what swings between their legs." She walked closer to the princess, and as she side Anya's aura began to feel like it was burning. If the vampire noticed she gave no sign, stopping and staring into Anya's eyes.

"At least you show the proper respect, and for that you shall be rewarded. You and your companions will follow our loyal guard," she instructed, gesturing to the assembled wights, "they will take you to the main entrance where I will meet you once more."

No response was waited for, as if the vampire knew that her offer would hardly be refused. In a moment she shifted back into her bat form and swiftly flitted up into the sky.

****

An hour later and the Council member's were slowly walking up the path, frustrated at the snails pace of the wights. However Anya had managed to convince them to show proper respect this time and they all maintained the pace.

Anya glanced around again in boredom. At first she had been wary, worried that it had either been too easy, or that the Lahmian had truly been insulted and this was punishment somehow. However as time went on she relaxed as nothing happened and began to wish that the journey would simply end.


Another post is going to be made! Please do not post yet!

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

Anya stumbled as pain lanced through her skull, dropping down to one knee. Stifling back a cry she raised her hand, sure that something had struck her, but it came back clean. The pain had disappeared as quickly as it had started and it was only as she glanced to the right that she saw a bolt stuck deep into a withered tree to her right. She had been gifted a warning that had saved her life....but only just.

Even as she opened her mouth she realised it was not necessary. The first strike had failed and the assembled vampires were reacting with the speed expected from their kind. But as Anya looked around she knew that whoever had planned this knew what they were up against. They had struck as the group walked through a tight pass with rock faces that towered to either side. The ledges and cracks of the rocks made perfect vantage points, and it was only thanks to the blessings of Neru that she could see the black cowled attackers. The speed of their movement, the expertise in which a variety of bolts, darts and other deadly projectiles rained down, they all spoke of highly trained killers.

As something crunched behind her Anya spun round, the many hours of training every person in Raestra underwent automatically putting her into a defensive posture, staff expertly prepared. Almost with an afterthought she focused her abilities and the ends of the rune carved wood crackled with holy power. Another thud followed as a wight collapsed to the ground, Dieter's sword withdrawing from its caved skull. It seemed not only were the ambushers in the pass walls, but their once escort now advanced on them, ancient weapons glowing with malice.

Moving swiftly to her right Anya stopped for a moment and then shifted. To the vampires around her she simply disappeared. Nothing could be seen, smelt, sensed or otherwise. It was as if the princess never existed. Blind to the world Anya strode forth readied her below and then shifted back as the end of the staff impacted with a crackle and boom that echoed in the pass. The discharge launched the wight backwards as if it had been shot out of a cannon, sending others of its kind over like skittles.

Blow struck Anya disappeared once more and the princess continued this method of attack. There was no warning as she blinked into existence, struck and disappeared, only to reappear somewhere else with a savage attack. The power of the strikes seemed to depend on how often Anya attacked, rapid attacks were less potent, though even those were strong enough to blast open armour and turn bone to dust.

Anya knew she would not be able to keep this up for long. Shifting was draining, she could remain in one state for some time, but back and forth pulled at her strength. Whilst against the wights it may have been enough, the cowled attackers were something else. They had now moved closer and she could sense that they too were vampires. Shifting again she lashed out at one of the assassins and was shocked as her blow was deflected with astonishing speed and skill. A quick shift saved her from the counter, but she felt a chill run down her spine.

The number of assassins in addition the ranks of wights was too much. Anya had also not forgotten the Lahmian who had met them, who must somehow be part of this. If this was engineered by Neferata, battling through would be signing their deaths.

"We must retreat!" she called, appearing momentarily, "back to the coaches!"

 

[Harland]

Roland was towards the back of the convoy when they entered the rocky pass. Having to walk for so long with his broken rib had put him in a foul mood. It did not help that he didn't trust the unclad vampiress and her troop of impassive wights - then again, nor did he most undead.
His eyes began to rove the rocky faces of the pass. Sheltered from the sun, shadows clung to the ledges and cracks like old, peeling paint. The eerie, vigilant darkness made him even more uneasy than the two wights trailing a few paces behind him.

Then he saw, almost lazily, one of the shadows reach out with a crossbow and fire it at Anya - who ducked just in time. Instinctively, he drew his preloaded crossbow and discharged it towards the crouched assassin and, before the bolt had even found its mark, pulled out one of his long knives with his right hand and spun around, thrusted - the knife buried deep into the eye of another assassin coming at him from behind, causing a lance of pain to shoot through his chest. As the assailant slid off the knife and onto the ground, Roland caught a glimpse of her pale, snarling face. Vampires.
He looked up to see the two wights advancing on him. Backing away, he spun around to locate Faust - there, fumbling with that bloody sextant or whatever, as another vampire closed in on him from behind. Dropping his crossbow, Roland lunged forward, slashing his knife across the side of the vampire's face, cutting off a piece of its ear. The vampire shrieked and stumbled, allowing Roland to close and drive the other knife through its heart. Faust jumped at the shriek, tripping over his own feet and tumbling to the ground.
"Get up and move!" Roland bellowed. He turned back to face the two wights, just as Anya called out.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Dieter walked along with his Zweihander leaning on his shoulder, his mood foul as they followed the orders of the Lahmian. The manner in which she had appeared was utterly bereft of the nobility he had come to expect from the Lahmian Sisterhood, although he had disliked the manipulative children of Nefereta they had at least had that virtue but this female had not even that.

Admittedly he was still fuming from the outrageous comment the Lahmian had made about base creatures, he was hardly the one acting like an animal...strutting about unclothed.

And now they had to drag their feet in a slow advance to kiss the feet of a Queen of nothing and beg for her assistance.

The soldier sighed from within his helmet, having put the complete armour on when entering the pass. He didn't care how undiplomatic it looked to carry his weapon and be so obviously on guard, the pass made him nervous. If he were to ambush someone this was exactly where he would do it, with archers lining the rock face and an undead force attacking from either side.

It was perhaps because of this cautious mindset that Dieter managed to react so fast as he saw the Princess fall to one knee and quickly took in the bolt that had only just missed her. He spun his blade in a blurring arc, managing to knock a black feathered arrow from the air, the vampire chose not to dwell that the projectile had been heading directly for his heart. A quick glance didn't allow the warrior time to make out their assailants, even his vampiric gaze unable to easily see the hidden enemy.

Without thinking Dieter leapt towards the Princess, remembering the Regent's command to protect her, and seeing one of their escorting Wights moving directly towards the princess with it's weapon raised. The Blood Dragon's blade cracked viciously into the enemy's skull dispelling whatever Necromantic spell animated it.

"Back!" Dieter roared at the Council Members "We must retreat before they cut us off!"

Dieter turned to speak to the Princess when she simply vanished from sight, having no time to dwell on it as a black garbed vampire suddenly dropped in front of him and lunged with two short swords. Dieter danced back, his greatsword twisting through defensive patterns before catching his balance and slashing down with a powerful overhead strike. The assassin caught the huge blade by crossing his shorter blades but although he managed to block the blow the strength of the Blood Dragon drove him to his knees. Dieter was about to press his advantage when a second assassin dropped down behind the first and cut with a longsword at Dieter's head.

Unable to bring his larger weapon to bear in time the swordsman received the blow to the side of his helmet, knocking him back several paces, at the same time the prone assassin had managed to manipulate his blades to trap the Zweihander and pull it from the dazed vampire's grasp.

With a snarl Dieter pulled the damaged helmet from his head and tore his own hand-and-a-half longsword from it's sheath and with a powerful sweeping slash he struck at the assassin's blades with all his might, knocking the short swords from the obviously shocked assailant's grasp.
With a savage grin he dismissed the first opponent and stepped into a powerful thrust at the second who used his own sword to parry the blow. This turned out to be a terrible mistake. Barely missing a beat, the first assassin spun into a twisting kick that Dieter vaguely recognised to be from the Eastern Fighting styles which struck the soldier in the side of the head just as the second assassin lunged into a thrust. Dieter's centuries of training saved him, instead of tearing right through the middle of his throat and practically decapitating him the blow instead merely slashed open the side of the Blood Dragon's neck. Blood gushed out from what, to the living, would have been a mortal wound, luckily for Dieter he wasn't alive. The wound was already knitting itself shut as he took up a high stance, longsword raised above his head and he grinned.

"Is that it?" he growled stepping forward to attack the duo.