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TVC - Chapter 47 - The Dead Walk Fast........

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Disciple of Nagash

The Perverted One
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#51
Suprisingly the Lahmin flipped herself back up, dodging another blow by Vrakian. A trick of blood ran from her mouth and it was plain she was injured, although she hid it well.
"If you want to play rough darling, it will cost extra," she quipped, her smile showing bloodied teeth. Suddenly she lashed out, inch long talons sprouting from her fingers. The blow was immensley fast, raking gouges out of Vrakian's face be she danced away, watching warily for his counter.

[hr]

Gutheart coughed up blood, clutching his tender nether regions. Curling up in a ball it seemed he had succumbed before suddenly he twisted round. In each hand he held a small dagger that had been holstered on the inside his thighs. Before Geralt could react he plunged them body into his legs, twisted them before pulling them out.
 

Trevy the Great

Vampire Progenitor
True Blood
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#52
The arrow clattered the to the ground and Vekarin lowered his shield, its apparently fragile surface unmarred by the powerful bow.
"Run, run, little girl, pathetic, whining little beast!" He taunted, his voice echoing about the chamber, "It will never be far enough."
Taking up the obsidian form of the Dark Blade again, Vekarin ignored the pain from the wounds in his arms and chest and leaped up the massive, baroque staircase that stood before him.
 

Evanm7

Grave Guard
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#53
One get looked up from his battle with a inexprinced Lahmian, taking a look at his sire.

Rick was a whirlwind of blood, magic streaming from his hands and spinning Necromantic spells, keeping all eight of them fighting. The Moon-Bow took down human guards with each arrow, the reflective swirls on the bow gleaming with a unholy light. The twisting shadow armor allowed every guard near Rick to score a hit, though. The Regenade Lahmian was spinning his powerful spell as a last resort. His very spirit flew out Rick's body, sending a clear message to Nightwere. This was his only chance. They needed to know if it was clear to retreat!

And so a ringing arrow slammed into Rick, knocking him out of the spell. He cursed and flipped around, punching out with a fist, landing a blow on... air? Rick looked to his fist, and, seeing a blur of motion, knew it was a Lahmian.

Rick summoned all his Lahmian speed and Vampiric strength, turning into a blur. He put his palm facing out, his fingers flat, and slammed it into the blur. Suddenly, a woman appeared, held fast by Rick's hand. Quickly, Rick retracted his hand and stepped in, placing his mouth next to her ear.
"Hello... Do you need a spine?"
The Lahmian replied, "You don't have one, Vampire. I am bold. You are not."
Rick's smile was as light refracting off a unholy coffin. Beautifel, but deadly.
"Then maybe you should try..."
Rick's hand was a blur of awesome speed and strength, and he slammed it into the woman's stomach, reaching through her skin and grasping her backbone. Rick then flashed a grin at Taim and retracted his hand, pulling the Lahmian's spine with it.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" The woman's scream of pain cut through the air, and Rick responded.
"So, see? You can't live without one."

Rick threw her lifeless body at a human and began to weave again. A little burst of wind carried its way to the castle, to Nightwere, with one message.
"Has the ruby been recovered?"
 

Sweeney Todd

Master Vampire
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#54
Geralt grunted as he staggered with the sudden blow to his legs. As he went down on one knee his fist flew towards the man's face. Tucked in the middle of the fist was the broken needle, like an assassin's talon. At the last possible moment the man moved his free hand to ward off the blow. However the servant of the Lahmians' was still prone, leaving gravity on Geralt's side. With a heave Geralt forced down the hand, thus impaling both it and the man's left eye with the needle.

Geralt threw himself aside as fast as he could when he noticed the silver sword snaking in towards him at the periphery of his vision. Thus cheated of the head it sought to claim, it sheared off several of Geralt's greyish-white locks instead. He rose painfully to his feet, the essence of troll he consumed already starting to knit the wound in his leg whole. His opponent did not appear to be blessed in such a manner though. He yelled in pain as he forcefully extracted his hand from his skewered eye, and clutched it with said hand while glaring wrathfully at him with the other.
 
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#55
Quezalat was thoroughly confused. One minute, he and the other Saurus had been happily ignoring the bent necromancer in their converse, and then suddenly they had both appeared in front of a smoldering iron gate with said necromancer, who then spoke in the warm-blood tongue and disappeared.

While he was feeling perturbed by this, a wildly running, screaming human appeared out of the large estate. Larekoth, seeing opportunity, lunged forward and snacked on the unfortunate denizen.

Likely, there's more where that came from. Dim warmbloods should have stayed where they were put.

Making his decision, Quezalat stalked forwards into the manor.

A short distance in, he heard an inordinately loud crash, followed by two others. Surprised, he crashed into the room and saw two vampires, one heavily armored and stuck to the wall. The other fled.

Quezalat recognized the pinned one from the council meeting, so he simply snarled at the figure, who wrenched himself off the wall and went to follow the other one. Shrugging, he went the other way.
 
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#56
Arrows struck the Lahmian guards and the Lahmians and as the battle raged a mental message surged into Ricks mind searing into it was the icy thoughts of Jason. It burned but though the Pain Rick managed to retrieve the message. Taim looked to the window seeing the Cathedral as smoke raised from the structure he spoke
"Master the Cathedral i think its time to leave!"
Rick turned to him sending another bolt from his bow
"Indeed it is time." the Lahmians moved swiftly away from the fighting raising zombies to slow the guards and Lahmians as they made there escape.
 

Gree

Master Vampire
True Blood
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#57
Vrakian trailed his own fingers over his face. ‘’It’s been quite a while since I was involved in a fight’’ he confessed as the wounds already started to close.

‘’However, if you want to play rough, them….’’ His other wing erupted from his back as he crouched down. Then he leapt forward, his wings flapping forward, adding momentum to his rush.

His arm caught the Lahmian in the upper torso area slamming her through the wall and into the next.
 

Evanm7

Grave Guard
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#58
Rick rushed with his Lahmian speed, appearing as but a blur to all onlookers. He rushed faster and faster and soon, the only trace of the Vampire's passing was small clouds of dust on the ground. He headed towards the main gate of the mansion, wanting to warn Vekarin.

Rick conjured a crystal in his hand, spun of Shyish, and jammed it into the gate, making it explode. He rushed in the great mansion, but, as Rick ran, he had a sword in his hand and his mouth moved to activate it.
"Sethemor Dios!
The sword in Rick's hand began to glow, at first softly, but then until the blade was almost red. As it reached its maximum light percentage, it burst in flame. Rick smiled grimly and stabbed a a Lahmian. A armored figure rushed down the stairs, balefire eyes fixed ahead of him. Rick guessed the clearly Vampiric man to be Vekarin the Dark Bladed.
"Lord Banespike!" Rick called, stopping his incredibly fast run.

"The ruby has been recovered! We must go to the Castle! Lord Banespike! Withdraw!" Rick stared at at Vekarin, sending the message that he was friendly.

With that, the Moonbeam darted off, heading towards the dark, murky waters and the call of his master. He sent a short teleother spell to his gets, through the Sire-Get connection. They appeared next to Rick, and began to run towards the docks, where three people would meet him.
First, Jason Nightwere, Rick's master.
Second, Peter, the Blood Keep Blood Dragon.
Third, Sweeny Todd and his entourage.
Rick gave one of his â„¢ grim smiles, and slowed down to a walk. He would need his energy.
 

Trevy the Great

Vampire Progenitor
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#59
Vekarin bounded up the stairs, ignoring the blood that dripped on the ground from the wounds in his arms and chest and the poison that slowly sapped the strength from his muscles. The poison would dissipate eventually, and in the meantime he had a mission to complete and nothing would interfere with this slaughter of these vampires. He could not afford to bow to the weakness brought about by the Lahmian's venom.
He reached the summit of the massive staircase, his shield whipping up, to block an agile stab made at him by a young woman that leaped upon him from the top of the stairs. She carried a small knife that darted out as the attacked, relying on her own speed to defend her against her much larger and more heavily armored opponent. She learned the error of this approach as her momentum was brought to a sudden halt by the mirrored surface of his shield. With a swift swing of the obsidian blade he carried, Vekarin ensured that she would never act on that lesson, sending the woman's head rolling down the staircase, her body lying in a pool of its own expanding ichor.
Clearing the last step, Vekarin looked into a long hall that branched off in either direction, revealing rows of doors all closed and inevitably locked. He took a step into the hall, his booted foot causing the floorboards to creak eerily in the unnatural quiet. The first door burst open, and a pair of swains dressed in gaudy uniforms complete with polished breastplates that glinted in the meager lamplight that illuminated the hall charged out, poleaxes leveled at him and cries of anger on their lips. Vekarin spun, his weapon cutting through the first man, whose lifeblood sprayed across the hallway, splattering the walls and his assailant. Before the man fell, Vekarin's shield batted the other man away, snapping his weapon and throwing him again the wall. A quick stab of the Dark Blade ended that soldier's life as well.
Stepping over the bodies of the two men, Vekarin entered the room that they had just left, the door still swinging ajar. Inside was another woman, and aristocrat by the look of her fine clothing and apparent lack of training in any sort of marshal art. Vekarin left her headless body bleeding on the rich rug of the room.
Kicking down the next door, Vekarin was met with yet more Lahmians; two women who shrieked at his impudence, darting about him with knifes. He left their corpses also adorning the floors. As he tore down each door in turn, he slaughtered those within. Useless attempts were made on his life, daggers dipped in deadly toxins lethal to vampirekind and great bows made of the bone of some ancient beast. Some portals were warded against him, and those he could not tear down or splinter under his mass he left alone. He had other prey to hunt.
He splintered the last of the doors, bursting into the room beyond. It was bare, austere, fashioned like some sort of cell, and in the corner was a young girl, no older than seventeen summers, and she recoiled in fear from the terrifying figure that bore down upon her, sobbing as she took in his blood-spattered armor and gore-stained sword. Vekarin lowered his weapon, kneeling down to the girl’s tear-streaked face and taking her chin in his massive, gauntleted hand, forcing her eyes to meet with his balefire gaze. A thumb encased in pointed mail of black steel snaked up to the girl’s lips, pushing them aside to reveal the pronounced canines of a vampire, and he could smell the stench of Neferata’s blood in her. Why she had been caged as she was, Vekarin had no idea, but he was resolved to bring at least one of these vermin back in fit shape to speak.
Taking the girl by the hand, the Blood Dragon roughly hauled her to her feet, pulling her to the door. Her hand was chained to a bolt in the wall, which he quickly cut loose with a swipe of his massive sword. At this sudden freedom, the girl seemed yet more afraid than she did of the mighty behemoth that pulled her to it, and she endeavored to huddle in the corner once again, pulling away from Vekarin’s grasp with the snake-like agility so inherent to Neferata’s daughters. With a light tap of the Dark Blade’s pommel, Vekarin rendered the girl helpless, taking her limp form up effortlessly in one arm, stepping over mutilated corpses on his way to the staircase.
A single figure stood in his way, calling Vekarin’s name.
"The ruby has been recovered! We must go to the Castle! Lord Banespike! Withdraw!"
Sneering, the Blood Dragon replied, ”Do not think to order me, Lahmian.” He hissed, his voice echoing in the seemingly empty space about them. With a flick of his wrist, Vekarin sheathed the Dark Blade and effortlessly drew another, much smaller weapon from his belt, a dagger that glowed in runes as if possessed by and inner fire. He regarded it for a moment, before viciously thrusting it into the wall beside him, embedding the weapon up to its hilt in a cloud of plaster and stepped down from the staircase. The dagger quickly burst into flame, the fire eating through wood and stone that the mansion was built of with equal vigor, spreading rapidly.
”Then we shall withdraw.” He said, stepping past Rick without another word and striding through the shattered gates of the building.
 

Disciple of Nagash

The Perverted One
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#60
There were cracking sounds as the Lahmian tried to move under Vrakian's weight, and it was clear that she was seriously injured. As he started to lift upwards he could not help but see the glint in her eye, and he knew that she would try to take him with her. With her last vestiges of strength she bit deep in the strigoi's neck, fangs piercing his windpipe. Holding on like death it seemed the only way she would come off him would be to tear out his own throat.

[hr]

Gutheart stared hatefully with his one remaining eye. Digging his sword tip into the wood beneath his feet he used it for leverage, powering off the group and grabbing hold of Geralt in a bear like hug. The momentum pitched smashed them through the flimsy barrier of the balcony, falling to the stone floor far below.......
 

Sweeney Todd

Master Vampire
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#61
As Geralt fell to the earth in the man's deadly embrace he used all his might to turn and succeeded in placing the man between him and the rapidly approaching ground. Twisting his fingers, he channeled the Sign of Aard and released the telekinetic surge at the last possible moment into the man's body. The end result was that the man ended up as a living trampoline for Geralt to break his fall upon. The backblast of the Sign hurled him away as they struck the ground with a bone-splintering impact.

Geralt winced as he struggled onto his feet after getting out of a roll. The protest of his bones indicated several small fractures, but the one who he ended up using a living cushion lay lifeless upon the floor, glassy eyes staring vacantly back at Morrslieb. However, in his line of work he could never be too sure. He found Moonfang nearby lying flat upon the ground and thankfully intact. With his recovered blade he proceeded to quarter the man's corpse and then slice off his limbs and head.

Movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention. He turned to see a familiar figure clambering up the walls towards the balcony he had just fallen off...

**********

Determined as she was to bring Vrakian down with her, the Lahmian did not notice Toby hauling himself onto the balcony and charging towards her with his knives ready until it was too late.

One blade flicked out and sawed off her protruding fangs, removing her connection with Vrakian. The other scythed off her left forearm. Toby turned and backhanded her to the floor, drumming the hilts of his blades upon her skull with all his might until she passed out.

"Mr. Todd would like to take her alive."
 

Simon von Carstein

The Poetic Fiend
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#62
Lucius and Gabriel came closer to Saul and Trinity. "If we could get to the reason why we're here." said Lucius "The Count has decreed that all vampires of von Carstein heritage are to evacuate Nuln once he has retrieved the Cruentus Ruby and rendevous at the Red Abbey in Sylvania. Just us! No one else!"
 

Knightofni

Varghulf
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#63
Just Us! No one else.

Saul shared an uneasy glance with Trinity; it had become plainly obvious that this had been the plan all along and that the rest of the Council had been left in the dark. Not that Saul felt at all sorry for them, with the exception of Peter.. to betray him when he might have needed his help in rescuing his wife didn't sit well with Saul but he hoped that Peter would understand the difficult situation he now found himself in.

He faced Lucius and spoke with plain distaste in his voice, though whether it was for the deed or the destination he didn't know.

"To Sylvania then. I truly hope the Count knows what he's doing.. the others are going to be two shades of furious when they find out about this."
 

Simon von Carstein

The Poetic Fiend
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#64
"The Count always knows what he is doing!" said Lucius glaring. "The council have outlived their usefulness." Gabriel nodded in agreement "and once the plan has succeeded we'll probably eliminate the whole lot of them except for mistress Lesa of course. Depending on what the Count has planned. You'd do well to join us."
 

Knightofni

Varghulf
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#65
Saul frowned, he didn't like being threatened.. especially considering he had just agreed to turn his back on the rest of the Council in favour of the von Carstein family. But confrontation would do him more harm than good in the long run, so he would just have to ride the current and see where he ended up. He tried not to make his tone aggressive..

"Fine. You have our support. When do we leave?"
 

Trevy the Great

Vampire Progenitor
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#66
The echoing of Zosz' staff preceded his approach as he stepped over the bloodied bodies of dozens of normally very attractive females. They were quite the opposite now, Zosz mused, the practical sculptures of womanly perfection cast down and desecrated, reduced the dust. Such it was with all beautiful things, but oh, the fun he would have enjoyed had he still possessed a corporeal body. He never had gotten into these situations as a young, lusty necromantic acolyte.
Wandering disdainfully through the broken halls of the estate, it took some time for Zosz to find what he was looking for, and not a moment too soon, either. The flames set by Vekarin's dagger were spreading, consuming whole rooms, leaping across walls and through doors like mischievous imps bent of eating up all things and leaving only the blackened ash of their defecation. The fire was no concern of Zosz', however the two being caught in it were. Presently, he found his quarry, two scaled lustrians and their cold-blooded steeds squatting amidst the heap of their dead. The larger lizards were feasting on the corpses, but their masters seemed more content to pile the bloodied heads of their beautiful victims in some grisly totem to a pagan god. The room was a mere fourty-eight seconds away from the fire. Thank the dark spirits that the mansion was this large.
Taking one of the Saurus by the arm, Zosz didn't really care which one, he looked up at the vicious, blood-smeared face of the massive warrior, and in his cheerfullest, most singsong rasp told them;
"Time to go, lovies."
The entire group disappeared in a cloud of acrid smoke that blended in nicely with the unfortunately choking by-product of the burning building.
 
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