TVC - Chapter 34 - Friend or Foe
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Simon clicked his fingers and Zosz suddenly found himself being manhandled from the room by a pair of wraiths. Simon turning to Glyre and said "leave us!" Glyre nodded and left the room after the struggling Zosz.
Turning back to Lesa he said "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room is that understood?"
Turning back to Lesa he said "What I am about to tell you does not leave this room is that understood?"
The doors behind Zosz and the Wraiths, which was fortunate because it meant that Simon didn't have to witness the destruction of his servants as Zosz exploded, throwing blue flames around the corridor that incinerated the Wraiths holding him and threw Glyre Feldenhaus several paces back, away from the path of destruction. When the flame cleared, there was nothing but a large, unsightly black mark on the floor of the stone hallway and some dense, wafting smoke.
Lesa raised her eyebrow at Simon's tone,
"I fully understand Simon, however I would appreciate if you spoke with to me with the same respect you expect. I am your equal, not one of your minions, and you would do good to remember that. However you have my word that I will keep your secret, providing it will not endanger my husband, or aid the the bastard Nagash is some way.
"I fully understand Simon, however I would appreciate if you spoke with to me with the same respect you expect. I am your equal, not one of your minions, and you would do good to remember that. However you have my word that I will keep your secret, providing it will not endanger my husband, or aid the the bastard Nagash is some way.
Glyre got up after being thrown by Zosz's explosion, and gingerly wiped dust from his clothes.
Hmmm, I wonder what Simon's plan is...what with warpstone shipments, a growing army, and 'tasks' that he needs me to complete.....I only wish I could know what he and that Lesa are discussing....or rather, the exact details of the conversation. Glyre thought, as he walked down the cold stone corridor.
Hmmm, I wonder what Simon's plan is...what with warpstone shipments, a growing army, and 'tasks' that he needs me to complete.....I only wish I could know what he and that Lesa are discussing....or rather, the exact details of the conversation. Glyre thought, as he walked down the cold stone corridor.
"Forgive my tone Lesa." said Simon apologetically "The plan has been in operation for about four hundred years now. It will not harm us or help Nagash. But it will help with the reunification of our kind something that Nagash cannot win against any more. Unfortunately there are certain members of this council who will try to stop me. I propose to resurrect Vashanesh our king."
"You can't be serious!" exclaimed Lesa.
"Of course I'm serious everything I've been doing in this council has been leading me to this. Restoring the family, Recovering the ring and taking back Sylvania. I served with him for a long time. You've seen my powers and abilities and those of my brothers and I think you'll agree we're at the top of the game but would it shock you to learn that all of our powers combined pale in comparison to him. I didn't get the ring for myself and Mircea isn't using Vlad's sword for himself we are simply holding these items ready to return them to their owner."
"Simon! to do what you're planning you will need the remains of your grandsire. How do you propose to do that?" asked Lesa slightly aghast.
"Its already taken care of. The remains are in my library as we speak under heavy guard along with a few other items that I had my servants in Altdorf remove from the temple of Sigmar. Vlad or Vashanesh whichever you prefer is still respected by the majority of our kind and he is still king of all vampires if anyone can unify our fractured race then its him." replied Simon
"You can't be serious!" exclaimed Lesa.
"Of course I'm serious everything I've been doing in this council has been leading me to this. Restoring the family, Recovering the ring and taking back Sylvania. I served with him for a long time. You've seen my powers and abilities and those of my brothers and I think you'll agree we're at the top of the game but would it shock you to learn that all of our powers combined pale in comparison to him. I didn't get the ring for myself and Mircea isn't using Vlad's sword for himself we are simply holding these items ready to return them to their owner."
"Simon! to do what you're planning you will need the remains of your grandsire. How do you propose to do that?" asked Lesa slightly aghast.
"Its already taken care of. The remains are in my library as we speak under heavy guard along with a few other items that I had my servants in Altdorf remove from the temple of Sigmar. Vlad or Vashanesh whichever you prefer is still respected by the majority of our kind and he is still king of all vampires if anyone can unify our fractured race then its him." replied Simon
While Glyre explored Drakenhof, the Dwarves under Nar-Zuul began to excavate the warpstone and build Simon's vessels.
"Hey, Gilgaramesh!" A dwarf worker whispered to his master as they were carrying warpstone.
"Ay?"
"What exactly do you reckon these vessels are for...I mean, they look unusual, and to be made of warpstone..."
"I agree with you. This whole thing seems dangerous, and I feel that we're trapped. I mean, I doubt they're going to let us see Lord Glyre until this thing is done, and even then....who knows." Gilgaramesh trailed off as they neared Nar-Zuul, who stood surveying the Dwarves.
Meanwhile, Emilya was wandering through the hall of Drakenhof that she had been shown to.
This castle...it's beautiful she thought, as she admired the fine craftsmanship of an old table. It's a shame, really, that we had to lose this, our inheritance....and Glyre was so confident that his plan would work, and after the defeat of Mannfred and the Council, we would have free reign of Sylvania. Still, that isn't what happened, and thus I must continue to support my husband's plan, whatever it may be, and in supporting that I must maintain my facade...hmmm, it will be hard, no doubt, as only Glyre and Aramaeus are aware of my true self.
"Hey, Gilgaramesh!" A dwarf worker whispered to his master as they were carrying warpstone.
"Ay?"
"What exactly do you reckon these vessels are for...I mean, they look unusual, and to be made of warpstone..."
"I agree with you. This whole thing seems dangerous, and I feel that we're trapped. I mean, I doubt they're going to let us see Lord Glyre until this thing is done, and even then....who knows." Gilgaramesh trailed off as they neared Nar-Zuul, who stood surveying the Dwarves.
Meanwhile, Emilya was wandering through the hall of Drakenhof that she had been shown to.
This castle...it's beautiful she thought, as she admired the fine craftsmanship of an old table. It's a shame, really, that we had to lose this, our inheritance....and Glyre was so confident that his plan would work, and after the defeat of Mannfred and the Council, we would have free reign of Sylvania. Still, that isn't what happened, and thus I must continue to support my husband's plan, whatever it may be, and in supporting that I must maintain my facade...hmmm, it will be hard, no doubt, as only Glyre and Aramaeus are aware of my true self.
There was a stunning silence following Simon's revelation. Of all the things Lesa had expected him doing, this was not it. His arrogance, his ego, it gave the impression that he would not allow anyone to command more power than him. But here he was, planning to resurrect his long lost sire and hand over all he had gained.......because he thought it would benefit vampirekind and provide the best chance of stopping Nagash. A wry smile crossed Lesa's lips as she looked back up at Simon,
"Have you ever though of going into acting?" she asked. Simon's expression at this comment started her laughing, after the revelation that was the last thing he had expected her to say. Seeing he was irritated at this seemingly mockery of him, she hurried to explain,
"How you present yourself, as a power hungry idiot who would ruin us all is just a facade. I doubt any others on the Council know the depth you truly have except........" she paused painfully before continuing, "except Milosh. He always trusted you and now I know why. He was always excellent at judging and reading people." A trail of crimson ran down her cheek before she shamefully wiped it away. Though she had tried to hide it from the others, the pain still tore at her insides, the longing she felt for her husband. Knowing how weak this must look in front of Simon she fought to pull herself together.
"I-I apologise, you don't need to see or hear this. How close are you to resurrecting Vashanesh?"
"Have you ever though of going into acting?" she asked. Simon's expression at this comment started her laughing, after the revelation that was the last thing he had expected her to say. Seeing he was irritated at this seemingly mockery of him, she hurried to explain,
"How you present yourself, as a power hungry idiot who would ruin us all is just a facade. I doubt any others on the Council know the depth you truly have except........" she paused painfully before continuing, "except Milosh. He always trusted you and now I know why. He was always excellent at judging and reading people." A trail of crimson ran down her cheek before she shamefully wiped it away. Though she had tried to hide it from the others, the pain still tore at her insides, the longing she felt for her husband. Knowing how weak this must look in front of Simon she fought to pull herself together.
"I-I apologise, you don't need to see or hear this. How close are you to resurrecting Vashanesh?"
"Very close Lesa very close." replied Simon "I have his remains and I have then Libermortis and all the copies he had made of Nagash's works." Simon sat back down and relaxed "It has been a long and dangerous road no one has ever attempted the resurrection of a master vampire before and its going to be more difficult than a standard resurrection like the one that brought back Mannfred. Large supplies of warpstone are on their way here the supplies I already have here are being fashioned into the device which will bring him back more powerful than before and then mother will be next as Sariah is most insistant about it." Simon smiled wearily "As you can see I've been very busy. I made a lot of these arrangements when I was dead as there are certain members of the council who would and will try to stop me it had to be done in secrecy."
V'azrin leaned against a wall as conflicting thoughts about Lesa flashed though his mind. So distracted was he that he did not notice the massive shape looming up behind him. Suddenly a massive arm wrapped around the Vampires chest, lifting him bodily from the ground. In a flash he was flyng through the air as his captor jumped off the castle battlements, before landing with a thump on the ground. The jolt shook the Necrach enough to stop the spell he had been preparing, and he was helpless as he as dragged off into the woods.
Moments they finally came to a halt with a feral growl, the Necrach was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Nervously the Necrach looked up, hands held wide as he prepared to cast, into the agitated face of Graveclaw.
"Graveclaw?! what is the meaning of this?" he started, but a low growl from the massive Strigoi caused him to fall silent
"Graveclaw needsssssss your help V'assssrin" Graveclaw growled "Pleassssse?".
Moments they finally came to a halt with a feral growl, the Necrach was dumped unceremoniously on the ground. Nervously the Necrach looked up, hands held wide as he prepared to cast, into the agitated face of Graveclaw.
"Graveclaw?! what is the meaning of this?" he started, but a low growl from the massive Strigoi caused him to fall silent
"Graveclaw needsssssss your help V'assssrin" Graveclaw growled "Pleassssse?".
Gilgaramesh and his fellows went back to the warpstone to continue mining, and more importantly, continue their conversation.
"It's as I was saying, I feel like we're trapped here, and that we are most likely going to be working on something lord Glyre would disagree with." Gilgaramesh said, as he brought his pickaxe down, deliberately slow, on the warpstone.
"Well obviously, I think he'd disagree with just about any piece o' warpstone this big that he 'ad no idea about....By Hashut, are you startin' to feel kinda uneasy?" The worker asked his master.
"A little...but regardless, we need to keep working on this warpstone, I'm trying to come up with some kind o' plan but so far, the only thing I can think of is committing suicide before...." As he said this, Gilgaramesh and his friend noticed Nar-Zuul gazing at them, and decided it was best they shut their mouths and continued working.
"It's as I was saying, I feel like we're trapped here, and that we are most likely going to be working on something lord Glyre would disagree with." Gilgaramesh said, as he brought his pickaxe down, deliberately slow, on the warpstone.
"Well obviously, I think he'd disagree with just about any piece o' warpstone this big that he 'ad no idea about....By Hashut, are you startin' to feel kinda uneasy?" The worker asked his master.
"A little...but regardless, we need to keep working on this warpstone, I'm trying to come up with some kind o' plan but so far, the only thing I can think of is committing suicide before...." As he said this, Gilgaramesh and his friend noticed Nar-Zuul gazing at them, and decided it was best they shut their mouths and continued working.
"Yes I can imagine a few of the members who would not appreciate what you are trying to do," Lesa admitted, "but even when Vashanesh is resurrected, what about those members. We cannot afford to loose their support, but some will not suffer to be ordered around. I have heard that Vashanesh was not the most understanding to those who would not follow his rule.........."
**********************************
Standing up painfully, V'azrin let a nimbus of power play around his fingers. He was half tempted to blast the ignorant vampire for the insolence, but the curious scholar in him could but help and be interested in what ailed Graveclaw. Not to mention the fact, that those massive claws could reach out and rip his body apart in an instant.
"If you...ah....has needed assistance, asking is the accepted medium, not kidnap." he finally replied coldly, "what is exactly is it, that you..ah....need assistance with hmmm?"
**********************************
Standing up painfully, V'azrin let a nimbus of power play around his fingers. He was half tempted to blast the ignorant vampire for the insolence, but the curious scholar in him could but help and be interested in what ailed Graveclaw. Not to mention the fact, that those massive claws could reach out and rip his body apart in an instant.
"If you...ah....has needed assistance, asking is the accepted medium, not kidnap." he finally replied coldly, "what is exactly is it, that you..ah....need assistance with hmmm?"
((This is on the road to Drakenhoff, for Clarification.))
The night is still. The moon is overcast, and the shadows are long and massive phantasms stretching across the earth, blotting out sight but not sound. The earth is struck by travelers feet, the air is rent by nocturnal raptors cries, and the heavy blows of feet upon the earth and cloth being torn against flora. Deep in the crowded underbrush on the side of the well worn path come the cries of battle, of hatred and fear, of Vengeance without reciprocation; the cries of Man.
The harsh staccato off kilter beat of bare feet comes closer, and a shadow is seen flitting among the trees off the side of the main road, and with no further adieu or mystery a robed, slight form barrels through several tree branches hanging too low with a thunderous crack, rolling on one shoulder to take a branch in either hand to face the forest. A monk? A man of the cloth with such unusual speed, and strength?
His robes suggest such an anamoly, indeed. Plain brown cloth adorns his frame, hanging to the earth and adroned only by a hemp sash and now many rents and tears. His bearded face looks to the woods in challenge, and soon lights from several torches are seen, heading this way along to audible cries of pursuit.
Breathing hard, Niklaus' strength is near spent, blood upon his face, his upper right shoulder adorned with the feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt that still feebly drips blood along his ruined robes. A feral look in his eye, and with branches in hand he awaits his pursuers, mere yards from the treeline now, and another crossbow bolt zings from the darkness harmlessly past the travelers head.
Niklaus laughs aloud, a maniacal, truly insane laugh that speaks of many things. Death, pain, blood. A mothers tears and childrens cries.
Eight men emerge from the woods, a semi circle around the robed figure with two crossbows raised and swords gleaming, and battle is joined.
The night is still. The moon is overcast, and the shadows are long and massive phantasms stretching across the earth, blotting out sight but not sound. The earth is struck by travelers feet, the air is rent by nocturnal raptors cries, and the heavy blows of feet upon the earth and cloth being torn against flora. Deep in the crowded underbrush on the side of the well worn path come the cries of battle, of hatred and fear, of Vengeance without reciprocation; the cries of Man.
The harsh staccato off kilter beat of bare feet comes closer, and a shadow is seen flitting among the trees off the side of the main road, and with no further adieu or mystery a robed, slight form barrels through several tree branches hanging too low with a thunderous crack, rolling on one shoulder to take a branch in either hand to face the forest. A monk? A man of the cloth with such unusual speed, and strength?
His robes suggest such an anamoly, indeed. Plain brown cloth adorns his frame, hanging to the earth and adroned only by a hemp sash and now many rents and tears. His bearded face looks to the woods in challenge, and soon lights from several torches are seen, heading this way along to audible cries of pursuit.
Breathing hard, Niklaus' strength is near spent, blood upon his face, his upper right shoulder adorned with the feathered shaft of a crossbow bolt that still feebly drips blood along his ruined robes. A feral look in his eye, and with branches in hand he awaits his pursuers, mere yards from the treeline now, and another crossbow bolt zings from the darkness harmlessly past the travelers head.
Niklaus laughs aloud, a maniacal, truly insane laugh that speaks of many things. Death, pain, blood. A mothers tears and childrens cries.
Eight men emerge from the woods, a semi circle around the robed figure with two crossbows raised and swords gleaming, and battle is joined.
"True enough." replied Simon "I was on the receiving end of his rages once and believe me those who survive them never get on his bad side again. I don't doubt that there will be some of us who will refuse to be commanded and thats too bad but necessary they will learn. If you're worried about yourself then have no fear grandfather is a very honourable man and I will be in an excellent position high in his favour."
Meanwhile below in the vault "Make sure the vessals are large enough to accomadate a man." said Nar-Zuul "and remember that if you die before they are complete you will continue to serve the cause as a walking corpse."
Meanwhile below in the vault "Make sure the vessals are large enough to accomadate a man." said Nar-Zuul "and remember that if you die before they are complete you will continue to serve the cause as a walking corpse."
Lord of Ravens
Vargheist
After three nights riding, Peter von Krähe looked forward to reaching the towering heights of Drakenhof. Bound by oath, he had set out from his keep in Swartzhafen to swear allegiance to the new Count. Although he had heard little of this Simon von Carstein, Peter prayed that his new Lord was not as mad as old Count Konrad…
Lost in his thoughts, Peter almost failed to notice the circle of torches ahead, bobbing like fireflies.
A circle of men, dressed like witch hunters of Sigmar, surrounded a short, and clearly wounded figure.
“Cowards,†snarled Peter. He was no lover of the Sigmarites, having witnessed what they did in the name of the man-god. He drew Soul Eater, and whispered in the ear of his Dark Steed, Firehoof, “Let us taste blood again old friend.†At the smell of combat, the Nightmare charged. As they galloped towards the circle of witch hunters, the wounded figure let out a manic laugh that was more bestial than human. Should they both survive this fight, Peter would look forward to talking to this stranger.
He levelled his blade at the neck of the closest man, the momentum of his charge carrying the enchanted blade straight through without pause. Peter grinned as the man’s life force flowed into his tired limbs and he felt the thrill of combat again.
Lost in his thoughts, Peter almost failed to notice the circle of torches ahead, bobbing like fireflies.
A circle of men, dressed like witch hunters of Sigmar, surrounded a short, and clearly wounded figure.
“Cowards,†snarled Peter. He was no lover of the Sigmarites, having witnessed what they did in the name of the man-god. He drew Soul Eater, and whispered in the ear of his Dark Steed, Firehoof, “Let us taste blood again old friend.†At the smell of combat, the Nightmare charged. As they galloped towards the circle of witch hunters, the wounded figure let out a manic laugh that was more bestial than human. Should they both survive this fight, Peter would look forward to talking to this stranger.
He levelled his blade at the neck of the closest man, the momentum of his charge carrying the enchanted blade straight through without pause. Peter grinned as the man’s life force flowed into his tired limbs and he felt the thrill of combat again.
Niklaus barely pauses to notice the new entry to the fray, as he throws himself with full abandon at the ring of men, targeting the crossbow before him with ruthless fury. His eyes alight with a crimson glow, he snarls as the branch he holds snaps alongside the side of the Hunters neck, the crossbow bolt burying itself in the earth next to the hobnailed boot that bore it.
Spinning out of the nightmares path, the pull of Undeath from the rider is palpable. Another Vampire? Snarling with even more ferocity, he throws himself at yet another closing hunter, his branch deflecting a sword to allow the stump of Tree in his off hand to thrust into the poor humans throat in a gout of blood.
Exulting in the bloodshed so long denied, he turns to barely deflect the oncoming blow of a twin handed greatsword with his now useless stump. Three men dead, the rest are scattered with cries of fear from the nightmare, eyes wide and blood drained from their flesh.
Howling, Niklaus ducks underneath the fear driven thrust from the steel blade, coming up to the mans throat and ripping it out with his teeth, the chain mail coif offering little or no protection as he flips it from his path.
The smell of blood, and the Human stench of fear is mounting. Four are left, and their weapons are vastly inneffective against the destructive duo; one mounted, one afoot. Both supernatural, and even in a wounded state more than a match for any three of the men.
Niklaus glowing red eyes pierce skin and bone and to the soul they seek; His laughter echos in the night, across hill and dale to settle in the heart of man like a canker sore. Truly insane, or just lost in the 'Thrill of Combat'? Time shall tell.
Spinning out of the nightmares path, the pull of Undeath from the rider is palpable. Another Vampire? Snarling with even more ferocity, he throws himself at yet another closing hunter, his branch deflecting a sword to allow the stump of Tree in his off hand to thrust into the poor humans throat in a gout of blood.
Exulting in the bloodshed so long denied, he turns to barely deflect the oncoming blow of a twin handed greatsword with his now useless stump. Three men dead, the rest are scattered with cries of fear from the nightmare, eyes wide and blood drained from their flesh.
Howling, Niklaus ducks underneath the fear driven thrust from the steel blade, coming up to the mans throat and ripping it out with his teeth, the chain mail coif offering little or no protection as he flips it from his path.
The smell of blood, and the Human stench of fear is mounting. Four are left, and their weapons are vastly inneffective against the destructive duo; one mounted, one afoot. Both supernatural, and even in a wounded state more than a match for any three of the men.
Niklaus glowing red eyes pierce skin and bone and to the soul they seek; His laughter echos in the night, across hill and dale to settle in the heart of man like a canker sore. Truly insane, or just lost in the 'Thrill of Combat'? Time shall tell.
Lord of Ravens
Vargheist
After his initial charge, Peter saw his foes scatter. The "man" he had been trying to help moved with the speed and strength of a vampire. No band of witch hunters could stand against them.
Peter lept from the back of Firehoof, spearing one man to the ground. He sank his fangs into the man's neck, and drank his blood down, relishing the fear he could taste in it. At this display of pure animal agression, the remaining witch hunters turned and fled into the night, leaving their friend to choke on his last breath.
Peter wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to look at the other vampire. He was dressed in the brown robes of a monk, but it was clear from his fighting abilities that he was no man of God.
"So friend, what is one of the Arisen with your strength doing fleeing from the lackays of the Grand Theogonist?" asked Peter.
Peter lept from the back of Firehoof, spearing one man to the ground. He sank his fangs into the man's neck, and drank his blood down, relishing the fear he could taste in it. At this display of pure animal agression, the remaining witch hunters turned and fled into the night, leaving their friend to choke on his last breath.
Peter wiped the blood from his mouth and turned to look at the other vampire. He was dressed in the brown robes of a monk, but it was clear from his fighting abilities that he was no man of God.
"So friend, what is one of the Arisen with your strength doing fleeing from the lackays of the Grand Theogonist?" asked Peter.
Niklaus brings close the man whos throat he has destroyed, drinking deeply of the life giving liquid. Ignoring Peter for the moment, he continues to drink, his body needing the rejuvenating capabilities of the blood before he can become rational again.
Dropping the husk after several moments and breathing deeply, glowing red eyes look to Peter with suspicion, and he rips the sleeve of his habit to wipe his face free of blood. Looking to his shoulder as the muscle protests the motion, he grunts at the presence of the bolt. Even now, his animal rage is subsiding, having satisfied the need that it hungered for, and the visible sign is simple. His eyes begin to lose their unearthly luster, and he replies, his voice rough and curt.
"Damned Hunters found me. Guess they're more attached to their children than I thought." Hissing, he pulls the bolt out of his shoulder, his eyes flaring with the memory of that shot that extended this battle for so long.
Upon a closer inspection, Niklaus is indeed a feral creature. His hands are clawed, cruel talons coming from his fingertips and drenched in Gore. His face sports an uncommon beard, the growth giving him a truly frightening look even in his tattered robes. Of course, the oddity of his eyes would not be lost on the casual observer as well. Looking at Peters mount, armament, and listening to his question more carefully, he replies in kind.
"I took too much, and they found me out. Masquerading as a priest can only last so long, and I had well overstayed my welcome." Oh, but it was Sweet.
Stepping back, naturally unsure of the Arisens purpose and intent, he asks his own query. "Where are you bound, Nightwalker? I thank you for your assistance, the Hunters nearly took my head as a trophy back to their pitiful excuse of a Lord. I am in your debt."
Sane, for the moment, but that laugh, that reckless abandon in combat....Two sides of the same coin? Or perhaps, the same side with a thin shield?
Dropping the husk after several moments and breathing deeply, glowing red eyes look to Peter with suspicion, and he rips the sleeve of his habit to wipe his face free of blood. Looking to his shoulder as the muscle protests the motion, he grunts at the presence of the bolt. Even now, his animal rage is subsiding, having satisfied the need that it hungered for, and the visible sign is simple. His eyes begin to lose their unearthly luster, and he replies, his voice rough and curt.
"Damned Hunters found me. Guess they're more attached to their children than I thought." Hissing, he pulls the bolt out of his shoulder, his eyes flaring with the memory of that shot that extended this battle for so long.
Upon a closer inspection, Niklaus is indeed a feral creature. His hands are clawed, cruel talons coming from his fingertips and drenched in Gore. His face sports an uncommon beard, the growth giving him a truly frightening look even in his tattered robes. Of course, the oddity of his eyes would not be lost on the casual observer as well. Looking at Peters mount, armament, and listening to his question more carefully, he replies in kind.
"I took too much, and they found me out. Masquerading as a priest can only last so long, and I had well overstayed my welcome." Oh, but it was Sweet.
Stepping back, naturally unsure of the Arisens purpose and intent, he asks his own query. "Where are you bound, Nightwalker? I thank you for your assistance, the Hunters nearly took my head as a trophy back to their pitiful excuse of a Lord. I am in your debt."
Sane, for the moment, but that laugh, that reckless abandon in combat....Two sides of the same coin? Or perhaps, the same side with a thin shield?
Lord of Ravens
Vargheist
Peter looked the stranger up and down. Clearly the vampire had much in common with the strigoi. Those of his Order would slay him if they found out that he had aided such a creature. Then again, they would probably kill him anyway.
"I am Peter von Krahe. I journey to Drakenhof castle. There are rumours that a new Count, going by the name of Simon von Carstein has taken up residence there. I am duty bound to serve him. You are welcome to accompany me. The witch hunters have again taken to hunting our kind. Even a warrior as... ferocious as your self may need a companion on the road."
Although naturally cautious, Peter felt that he could trust this vampire. Plus, he may be in need of an ally should things turn nasty in Drakenhof.
"I am Peter von Krahe. I journey to Drakenhof castle. There are rumours that a new Count, going by the name of Simon von Carstein has taken up residence there. I am duty bound to serve him. You are welcome to accompany me. The witch hunters have again taken to hunting our kind. Even a warrior as... ferocious as your self may need a companion on the road."
Although naturally cautious, Peter felt that he could trust this vampire. Plus, he may be in need of an ally should things turn nasty in Drakenhof.
With his usual efficient mindset, he spits upon the road, blood splattered phlegm making a dark stain upon the earth. Looking at Peter with now brown eyes, he would think for only a moment, then ask a very simple question.
"Will I have the chance to kill more of the Theogenists thugs?"
The grudge he bears is painfully obvious, he makes no pains to hide it. He hates Sigmarites, though he is dressed as one. He just tore the throat from three, and he wants more. Always more, not until they are all dead and gone, left for the wolves and the crows.
Drakenhoff....He knows that place. Mannfredd had been there, the Von Carsteins....He is not completely clueless, even in his isolated village he heard things. Dangerous things, the Von carsteins had fallen....But another had picked up the standard. His fangs bare as he ponders this to himself, still awaiting the answer to his question.
"Will I have the chance to kill more of the Theogenists thugs?"
The grudge he bears is painfully obvious, he makes no pains to hide it. He hates Sigmarites, though he is dressed as one. He just tore the throat from three, and he wants more. Always more, not until they are all dead and gone, left for the wolves and the crows.
Drakenhoff....He knows that place. Mannfredd had been there, the Von Carsteins....He is not completely clueless, even in his isolated village he heard things. Dangerous things, the Von carsteins had fallen....But another had picked up the standard. His fangs bare as he ponders this to himself, still awaiting the answer to his question.
Lord of Ravens
Vargheist
Peter smiled. Someone who shared his hatred of the Church of Sigmar was a man to be welcomed with open arms.
"Well given the fact the warrior priests will be unwilling to abandon the province to a new Count without a fight, I am sure your desire to kill will soon be sated. However, I am unwilling to waste time here any longer. Let us be on our way".
With these words, he lept into Firehoof's saddle, and brought his spurs to the nightmares flanks. The two new allies began the last few miles along the road to the castle of the von Carsteins.
Peter dreaded what he may find there, but was confident that with the aid of this violent creature, he would be able to hold his own in the court of the new count. He wistled and a huge raven flew to his outstreched arm. Peter placed a note into a container tied to its leg, and the bird flew on along the road.
"It never pays to arrive unanounced," he grinned at the other vampire. "Excuse my rudeness, friend, but what is your name?"
"Well given the fact the warrior priests will be unwilling to abandon the province to a new Count without a fight, I am sure your desire to kill will soon be sated. However, I am unwilling to waste time here any longer. Let us be on our way".
With these words, he lept into Firehoof's saddle, and brought his spurs to the nightmares flanks. The two new allies began the last few miles along the road to the castle of the von Carsteins.
Peter dreaded what he may find there, but was confident that with the aid of this violent creature, he would be able to hold his own in the court of the new count. He wistled and a huge raven flew to his outstreched arm. Peter placed a note into a container tied to its leg, and the bird flew on along the road.
"It never pays to arrive unanounced," he grinned at the other vampire. "Excuse my rudeness, friend, but what is your name?"
Niklaus looks up to his new companion, having silently move alongside his steed whenever he continued his journey.
"Forgive my rudeness, Peter Von Krahe. My name is Niklaus."
His eyes watch the bird fly through the night, and he smiles. Apparently, his new companion has a head on his shoulders as well. His bare feet stride upon the earth, leaving the smell of blood not of his own behind him, and the night before him. Drakenhoff awaits. It will be a pleasant distraction to play the politik once more, even though it has been a very long time since he had conversed with his kind.
His chuckle breaks into the night, feral, quite near mad, and full of private humor. Oh yes. This night is proving to be interesting.
"Forgive my rudeness, Peter Von Krahe. My name is Niklaus."
His eyes watch the bird fly through the night, and he smiles. Apparently, his new companion has a head on his shoulders as well. His bare feet stride upon the earth, leaving the smell of blood not of his own behind him, and the night before him. Drakenhoff awaits. It will be a pleasant distraction to play the politik once more, even though it has been a very long time since he had conversed with his kind.
His chuckle breaks into the night, feral, quite near mad, and full of private humor. Oh yes. This night is proving to be interesting.
Gilgaramesh and his companion exchanged fearful glances when they heard Nar-Zuul's warning. He had heard their conversation. This knowledge sent chills down their spines, and Gilgaramesh realized that he wasn't leaving this Vault until the vessels were complete.
It's ironic He thought I realize that Simon is no doubt planning to resurrect someone or something, but now I cannot inform Lord Glyre. I fear all I can do is work, and hope everything works out.
In another section of the Castle, Emilya continued to wander until she came to a hall, where she saw Glyre, who looked disoriented.
"Glyre...Glyre is that you?" Emilya asked.
"Yes, it is. Emilya, I'm starting to get a bad feeling about all this."
"I know, I can't imagine what Simon would want with warpstone and chaos dwarfs, but it can hardly be good." Emilya said.
"I saw we investigate this, and try to figure out what Simon's up to. I have a plan, but it requires Aramaeus' participation-where is he?" Gyre inquired.
"I have no idea...hmm, I think I may return to Gor'Drak, we still have some assets there that could be beneficial."
"Yes, yes that sounds good. I'll try to find Aramaeus, and if possible I'm going to see if I can check on Gilgaramesh." At this, the two walked off into opposite directions of the castle.
It's ironic He thought I realize that Simon is no doubt planning to resurrect someone or something, but now I cannot inform Lord Glyre. I fear all I can do is work, and hope everything works out.
In another section of the Castle, Emilya continued to wander until she came to a hall, where she saw Glyre, who looked disoriented.
"Glyre...Glyre is that you?" Emilya asked.
"Yes, it is. Emilya, I'm starting to get a bad feeling about all this."
"I know, I can't imagine what Simon would want with warpstone and chaos dwarfs, but it can hardly be good." Emilya said.
"I saw we investigate this, and try to figure out what Simon's up to. I have a plan, but it requires Aramaeus' participation-where is he?" Gyre inquired.
"I have no idea...hmm, I think I may return to Gor'Drak, we still have some assets there that could be beneficial."
"Yes, yes that sounds good. I'll try to find Aramaeus, and if possible I'm going to see if I can check on Gilgaramesh." At this, the two walked off into opposite directions of the castle.
Simon looked up as a raven flew into the hall and settled down on to the arm of his throne. Noticing a small container attached to its leg he removed it and read the note within. "Hmmm" he murmoured in a tone of minor interest "We appear to have a visitor on the way. Peter von Krahe no less." "I'm not familiar with the name." admitted Lesa. "No reason why you should be." replied Simon "he was a minor mercenary vampire who came to us as a refugee from the Blood Keep shortly after it was destroyed in revenge for the death of a vampire hunter." Lesa smiled slightly "you mean the vampire hunter that you killed." Simon cleared his throat slightly unintentionally confirming the fact. "It would have been destroyed anyway." he said defensively "They just decided to get their act together sooner than planned." He turned to Akarin "I believe that Vlad gifted him some land in the eastern marshes. I had no idea he was still alive." "Neither did I milord he must have keeping a low profile over the years." replied Akarin
Lord of Ravens
Vargheist
The unlikely pair approached the Gates of Drakenhof,
"Niklaus, I do not ask you to swear to help the new Count. Just be... polite"" said Peter tactfully. The shorter man did nothing to show he had taken this request on. The pair strode into the castle.
*****************************************************
Peter looked around the throne room. He saw a stunning female vampire. His eye was drawn to her. After a few moments, he broke her gaze and saw another, male vampire. Peter recognised him Akarin von Carstein, a vampiric assassin who had served the Counts of Sylvannia. Peter did not trust the way the man did not fight openly, but respected his martial skills.
The final vampire in the room was another Peter recognised…
“The poet! So you’re the new count. I served your Grandsire, and an here to swear fealty to the new Lord of Drakenhof. Vlad often spoke of you to me fondly. I am bound to you by the same oath I was to himâ€Â.
Peter kneeled before Simon. The raven flew back to its masters shoulder, and cawed softly in his ear
"Niklaus, I do not ask you to swear to help the new Count. Just be... polite"" said Peter tactfully. The shorter man did nothing to show he had taken this request on. The pair strode into the castle.
*****************************************************
Peter looked around the throne room. He saw a stunning female vampire. His eye was drawn to her. After a few moments, he broke her gaze and saw another, male vampire. Peter recognised him Akarin von Carstein, a vampiric assassin who had served the Counts of Sylvannia. Peter did not trust the way the man did not fight openly, but respected his martial skills.
The final vampire in the room was another Peter recognised…
“The poet! So you’re the new count. I served your Grandsire, and an here to swear fealty to the new Lord of Drakenhof. Vlad often spoke of you to me fondly. I am bound to you by the same oath I was to himâ€Â.
Peter kneeled before Simon. The raven flew back to its masters shoulder, and cawed softly in his ear
- Status