18+ To Make a god Bleed

[Drahkma]

Vampires are being hunted down and slain, by men serving the god of life, calling themselves 'Paladins of Arkay'. They are determined to slay every single vampire in Tamriel, regardless of how peaceful they are. The paladins are lead by a man known only as the 'High Priest'. While this 'priest' proclaims that he only acts for the common people, he has a huge palace in the Imperial city, and lords it over the inhabitants. His followers are fanatics, devoted to promoting the worship of Arkay. Any who refuse, are brutally beaten, and that is the least of punishments.

Screams are constantly heard from the lower levels of the palace. Heretics, that have gone against the High Priests wishes. It has become clear to most vampires, and those that have lost loved ones to the paladins. A summons from an apparent 'friend' has summoned surviving vampires to the city of Jehenna. Unfortunately, this may not be the safe haven it appears to be. Already, fanatics and paladins are moving in on the city.
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Rules

1) No Godmodding- Super duper powers of death and destruction.​

2)Proper spelling, spacing, and Grammar. If you cannot do any or all of these, you need not apply.​

3) No text walls. A paragraph should be no less than four sentences, no more than seven. Text walls make your post hard to read.​

4) Sexual Activity. Is allowed, but don't make it disgusting. I don't want constant smut.​

5) Swearing- Allowed to an extent. Both in the IC and OOC. Don't go overboard.​

6) Creativity is a must. One liner posts will not be tolerated. Describe your characters to the best of your ability.​

7) You may use NPC's.​

8) You may have up to two (2) characters.​

THIS IS AN 18+ ROLEPLAY. That does not mean you need to be 18+ to RP. It is just required that are able to deal with mature themes.​

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Cast​

Drahkma as Vadenu Harchon​

TheShadedOne as-Zah'Nivani​

Madrar as-Jevec Blackthorne​

Aethalia as-Iridania Drasthon​

Sqeagy as-Ashley​

Jei El as-Jei El​

Cazzer14 as-Oromil​

Delusional as- Arun​

Em_Pu as-Torric StrongIron​

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[Em_Pu]

OOC: I guess I will go first. Also I am not great at starting this things.

The Night grows over the city of Jehenna, a cold wind is breezing through the streets as if something was coming, as if something was about to happen that hasn't happened in a long time. A tall Nordic man is walking down a quiet street leading to the local inn, the cool breeze raising the hairs on the back of his neck, the sounds of his boots hitting the road can be heard all the way down to the inn. His name Torric StrongIron a man well known in Skyrim for his deeds and his ability to kill his enemies wherever they may be. He opens the door his large figure barely fitting in the doorway.

"Barkeep some Nordic Southberry Mead please." Torric says as he sits down at the nearest round table, his spear now leaning against the table. The Barkeep heads to his table and gives him a glass and some mead, "If you don't mind sir, but you must be part of the people called here today." says the barkeep waiting for a response, The look on Torric's face said it all. He was there for his own reasons and his own reasons alone, "Yes, I however am early. So now I play the waiting the game." Torric's voice quiet and smooth. He grabs the glass and pours some mead for himself, he sips on it admiring the mead from his homeland. "The guests that were also called upon should be here at any moment." Torric's thoughts ponder on who will walk through the doors next or who is already there.

 

[Sqeagy]

((I'll use red text for my character's dialogue, and just use blue for the High Priest for now if that's not a problem.))
Ever since settling down years ago in Whiterun with her family and becoming a blacksmith, Ashley had dreamed over returning to High Rock with her family for a vacation. Sadly, carriages that went that far were very expensive, and business in the smithy had been going down. So when two men showed up in her store and said their lord wanted to hire her for a job in High Rock, you could only imagine her excitement.

"Wait, you're serious?" Ashley questioned the two men. They wore strange armor that the young blacksmith had never seen before. One of the men sighed. "Yes miss. Our lord wants you to come to High Rock to fill a large order. And he is not a very patient man." Ash had to think about it. She didn't really want to leave her family while she went to High Rock, but it wouldn't be the first time she left home on business. "Okay. I accept, just let me write a letter to my family and get my stuff and we can go."


The young Breton took out some parchment and a quill and began to write the note explaining what she was doing and where she was going. As she wrote the letter, a thought came to her: she didn't know where exactly she was going herself. "Hey, where is your lord loca-" As Ash turned around, all that met her was the hilt of a sword bashing into her face, causing her to crumple to the ground. The two men searched the building, spotting the blacksmith's weapons and armor, shoving the items into a bag filled with various items belonging to the Breton as one of the men slung the bag over his shoulders, the other carrying Ashley on his back out of the city and into a carriage.

About a week later....
Ashley awoke groggily in the back of a carriage, lying face down on the cold hard wood. The carriage was at a stand-still, parked outside a manor of sorts. "The hell? Where am I?" Ash groaned as she grabbed her pounding head, a result of the sword-hilt to the face.As she flipped herself, she spotted her large bag with her sword sticking out of the top. She wasted no time grabbing and putting it on her back. Ashley started to back up as footsteps could be heard from the sides of the carriage. It was the same two who had approached her in the shop and taken her. "Wake up woman!" One of the men had shouted. The same man lifted up a water-filled bucket and threw it straight at Ashley's face, immediately waking her up. "It's time for you to meet our lord, the High Priest."

The High Priest? Who is this guy why would a priest need weapons? Ash got out of the carriage and stood up, stretching her arms and legs after lying down for such a long time. When she finished, both men grabbed her arms. "Hey, what's the big idea?" She asked. "Silence woman!" The man on her left shouted as they dragged her into the manor. As they got closer to the manor, Ash noticed more and more guards with the same unique armor. They entered the house and dragged her through a large hall until they reached the end of the passage. At the end, there was an elevated pedestal with steps leading up to it. Covering the pedestal was a curtain, which Ash suspected was shielding this "High Priest."


"So you are the blacksmith I ordered. I also see you met some of my Paladins. Good. I am the High Priest, leader of the Paladins of Arkay. I am leading these men on a, holy war of sorts. We exist to serve Arkay's will, and that is to get rid of the scourge all over Tamriel, the vampires. Now, I need you to go to the smithy in the basement.We need three hundred suits of armor by nightfall and the vampires won't wait for us to finish preparing, and neither so we. So move." Ashley couldn't believe the nerve of this High Priest guy. "Hold on just a second. You have your guards attack me, kidnap me and bring to another part of the continent, and than expect to just make armor for your crazy Paladin soldiers? I don't care what Deity you serve or how evil the people you're trying to kill are. You're crazy. I'm out of here." She shook the guards off her arms and turned around and began to walk towards the exit. As Ashley walked away, a smile found itself growing on his face. "Another heretic." He snapped his fingers, the sound reverberating through the large hall. When Ashley approached the door, she found herself surrounded by several of the Paladin soldiers.

"You got to be kidding me." Ashley said as she examined the situation. The holy soldiers had her surrounded, cutting off the exit, and the way Ash had just came down. Her own sword drawn, she started swinging it an arc to keep the soldiers a sword's distance away so she could think of a plan. Unable to see a visible path, Ashley began to lose hope when she noticed a bright light being reflected off the surface of her sword. She looked up, spotting a large chandelier. Seeing an opportunity, Ash threw her sword up, managing to cut the rope suspending it in the air, causing it to fall on top of the Paladins guarding the door. Scavenging her sword, Ashley pushed the door open and reached the carriage that brought her here. She got in the driver's seat and took off away from the manor, searching for a city to hide from this High Priest and his Paladins.

 

[Delusional]

The light beaming from the moon overhead illuminated the sprawling town ahead of Arun, who slowly made his way towards the quiet settlement ahead of him. His footsteps gave off a soft and gentle noise as they landed on the cobblestone path, moist already with the dew of the coming morning.

The clink of steel on steel contact rang gently from the Redguard as his obsidian steel scimitars collided while the man walked. His smooth yet worn black leather armor glided soundlessly over his body, glistening from the droplets of water that had accumulated from the thin sheet of moisture that hung in the air, suspended in time.

Arun neared the town with every step, drawing himself closer and closer to a place of rest. It had been a long journey for Arun, a difficult trek across Tamriel, but finally, it was at end. He glanced around him, surveying the surroundings outside of the town whose name he had forgotten a long while ago. Tall pines protruded from the ground, their trunks obscured by tall grass and shrubs that had grown for what seemed like epochs. Large boulders dotted the rolling hills, monuments to an ancient time.

The terrain was significantly easier to traverse than the mountains he had just emerged from. This town was situated right at the end of a daunting range of mountains that gave Arun grief to even think about his travels through.

The journey is finally at an end. I may finally rest. Arun wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; a combination of sweat and dew covered his hand when he withdrew it. But not for long, because I must fight back.

Arun reached the limits of the settlement at last. He was adjacent to a small wooden cottage, void of light or sound. He gazed on down the road, further into the village. A rare cottage or building gave off a luminescent glow, penetrating the thick night with heroic bravery. As he became more and more enveloped in the settlement, the faint sounds of chatter, or the occasional clank of pots and pans resounded throughout the numerous cottages and huts.

Near the center, or what appeared to be the center, of this town, Arun laid his eyes on what he came for, the location where he may rest, and the location where he will depart to rebel against these 'priests' trying to exterminate his kind.

The inn emitted a welcoming glow, and drew the Redguard in. His pace quickened, excited by the simple prospect of a bed, let alone heat. His footsteps hit the rugged, worn wooden steps that ascending to the porch of the inn with a loud 'thud', and he soon found himself at the door.

Arun rubbed his eyes with a wet hand before extending an arm and pushing open the heavy oaken door. The warmth of the hearth in the center of the building was close to a smack in the face to Arun. The heat surprised him, after traveling for so long in weather void of such.

He cared little for observing the inn with the promise of drink and bed awaiting him. He immediately turned and headed straight to the bar, where a very large man already stood, a bottle of mead in hand. Arun approached the bar, and rested his forearms on the counter as he leaned on the bar in exhaustion. Soon enough a barkeeper appeared, and asked Arun what he needed.

"Just an ale will do. Oh, and a bed." Arun rubbed his eyes once again, realizing the fatigue that had crept over him. "Yes, a bed will do nicely."

The light thud of tankard on wood woke Arun from a doze and he wrapped his still wet fingers around the mug. He lifted it to his lips, and the wondrous liquid gushed down into the Redguard's anxious mouth. After a rather long swig, he lowered the tankard and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his leather armor.

Arun turned over to the man who had been standing next to him the entire time. Large; built... Arun had his suspicions about this man already. I suppose we figure out if he is here for the same thing I am. Shame I'm not very gifted in social interaction.

"Hey." Arun's gruff voice caught the man's ear, and he turned to face Arun. "Who are you?"



OOC: My color.

 

[cazzer14]

Oromil woke after having the dream again. It was the same every time. Tall city gates, fields of High Rock, a tavern, a doorway, darkness. Jehenna. He sighed, the insomnia eating away in his mind, each time he slept, that dream crawled into his mind, a mental parasite leeching his subconscious, it was the reason he had traveled so far, to find this place, this sanctuary in the Breton homeland. A refuge from the purge, a place where the ironically bloodthirsty Paladins couldn't find him, where he wouldn't have to look behind him as he walked anymore.

It had been 4 days since Chorrol. Oromil had been over a bar, drinking away his troubles for coin, when they came, in droves, in righteous hypocritical hordes, a violent ambush, they didn't even care about any other patrons, everyon in their way was slain. He was trapped and he did the only thing he could; run, fight and run. And he managed to get out, somehow, he almost died, several times, but he escaped. But he couldn't do this forever, they'd keep coming, and he couldn't outrun them eternally.

Oromil sat up, the campfire had burned out and a pathetic whisper of smoke trickled up into the highland air, the city of Jehenna looming just in the distance, down the mountainside Oromil had slept on. He begrudgingly packed his things and slung the satchel over his shoulder, his stroll one of frustration on weariness. He thought deeply about things as he descended the mountain, about him, his life, his vampirism, his times as a Thalmor. And yet none of it mattered anymore, the only thing that did now was surviving with what he had.

The Altmer reached the gates of Jehenna, the eyes of the watchful guardsmen glaring at him suspiciously, they had a right to, not every visitor was friendly. He was granted entry after a quick check from the gatekeeper, and he walked through the open gates. Surveying the uneventful town, recognising the features from his dreams, Oromil quickly located the inn, again, the building identical to his visions, and he entered the tavern.

The warm glow welcomed him, the heat roasting his cheeks. The inn was busy, but not overcrowded. Oromil found an emptry stool next to a Redguard conversing with a burly man who stood next to him, and sat down, grabbing the attention of the sporadic barkeep and ordering Breton Wine, his voice a baritone murmer, stoic and timid, but not unconfident. His drink arrived and he paid, then he sat quietly and drank, like he had so many times before.

OOC: Can I reserve this blue for Oromil?

 

[Drahkma]

Vadenu strode through the dark streets, a sneer etched on his handsome face. He had the bearing of a noble, and the poor of the city could tell. They emerged from whatever foul place they dwelt, hands held out, pitiful looks plastered over their filthy faces. The vampire noble of house Harchon sneered, and kicked out at them. They withdrew hastily, shrieking profanities at the tall man, but none dared to reach for the bulging coin purse at his belt. Probably because of the rune inscribed great sword that was also at his side.

'Filth, wherever I look...this is what these Paladins are trying to 'protect'?' The vampire mused to himself, side stepping a drunk that was sprawled across the street in a puddle of liquid he preferred not to identify. An inn was before him, probably the meeting place for those, like Vadenu, that had been ousted from their residences by Paladins, seeking to wipe out the blood kin. Or anyone else that didn't like the idea of a dictatorial half mad priest lording it over them.

He entered the inn, wrinkling his nose at the stench of humanity. A pair of non- Bretons sat at the bar, and Vadenu felt himself sneer. He didn't care much for those that weren't nobility, or Bretons. He took a seat at the bar and rapped his armoured knuckles against it. The bartender, another miserable lowborn sidled over, but at least the man had the brains to gaze upon the Vadenu with due respect. "Can I get you anything, my lord?"
"Your finest wine. If a hovel such as this in fact serves wine" he growled with disdain.

 

[Em_Pu]

OOC: Btw Delusional just letting yea know try to control my bloke haha I had some ideas to throw in but that's fine I am cool with it. Also since I work two jobs I will be on as much as possible but sometimes it might take awhile so yea. Also kinda forgot people's races hence there is no actually dialogue towards such

"May I ask who are you? By the accounts that I know you I apologize for not remembering." Torric said smoothly taking a sip of his mead sizing up the man that had recently approached him. Torric quickly switched his eyes to see two other men also enter the bar in a timely fashion, his eyes met with quiet person first, someone that looked like a mouse would speak more and then his eyes glared at what a appeared to be a fellow man of noble birth. The properly bathed man ordering the most expensive wine in the inn, which may only be 200 septims but point being only of noble birth and wealth could you order such wine. "Hold your question." Torric says to the man trying to converse with him, Torric then grabs his spear which was beside him at the bar and walks closer to the man of noble birth, "You know if you wanted to be discrete about your appearance here I would have suggested something less expensive. Also given that fact that a noble like yourself has recently been brought to a small town like this, I am guessing you are here on business like myself and the other two men who had just entered the room about ten minutes ago. So with all that being said." Torric stops his sentence just to make sure all will hear him, "Barkeep your biggest room for meetings, open it at once please. And you two by the bar follow me to the room, I believe we are all here for a similar cause." Torric's voice was raised enough to grab the attention of the people in the inn of importance. "Oh and before I forget Barkeep don't worry about the expenses." his voice was clear, the barkeep nodded his head and hurried to the large meeting room to make sure it would be unlocked. Torric began walking towards the room his feet is heavy, his armor clanking against itself. This man is no mer merc, and is not a knight in a fancy get up, he by all accounts is Torric StrongIron a well known noble known for his skill in combat.

 

[cazzer14]

Oromil was actually enjoying his drink. The inn was warm, the ambiance pleasant enough, and the wine tasteful. One by one those positive mood enhancers were shattered by interruptions. The first being a rowdy entrance by a burly, snobby nobleman - the type to kill any peasant who dares to look his way, and the type that, no matter how much he is hated, still thinks that blood is more important than respect. The type that Oromil despises. He is, was a Thalmor, and even he knows that superiority is not individual, and it is certainly not withheld through fear and violence. The Thalmor intimidated, sure, but they didn't kill their own civilians just to prove a point.

The nobleman's arrival and subsequent noisy ordering of the most expensive beverage in the tavern ruined the ambiance part of Oromil's previously enjoyed evening, but at least he had his wine and the warm heat to appreciate. Nope.

A man sat near the stoic Altmer conversed with the Breton warlord, and Oromil heard every word. Damn. It seems like he wasn't the only one who had heard of this sanctuary, one way or another. The man who wasn't a clearly murderous sociopath then loudly declared that the nobleman and Oromil was should join him in the just-reserved largest room in the inn. Great. Oromil said nothing, he just rose from his stool, slung his satchel over his shoulder and grabbed his wine, proceeding to the room. But as he turned away,, he heard the barkeep say to him;

"Woah woah woah, you can't take that with you, the wine stays here"

Oromil gave a unemotional glare at the barkeep. He considered downing the wine so as to not waste his money, but he needed all his wits about him heading into that room so he though better of it. Oromil also considered ignoring the barkeep and continuing to walk, but the reason why he was here was to lay low, and it didn't seem like such as good idea to piss off the town bartender. So he opted to just put his wine back on the counter and leave.

That was the bloody wine gone, too, all he had left was the heat, and knowing his luck, a blizzard will come and wipe out the tavern. Oromil headed to the room, following the footsteps of the man who had announced the meeting, all too aware of the dozens of eyes following him.

 

[Madrar]

Jevec Blackthorne made his way through the city's streets, his dark grey, and red robes wrapped around his body. Even in the night, where his kind excelled, he was worried. After all, one does not be assaulted by fanatical mortals screaming about how horrible you were, and feel relief. He'd evaded them, for now, but the fact that he'd run into them at all was disconcerting. Jevec turned on his heel as a pair of guards walked towards him down the street. He had no clue if the fanatics had entered the city, but he was taking no chances.

His Dunmer skin and naturally red eyes made it unlikely they would recognize him as one of the undead. However, the fanatics seemed to have a sixth sense. Even in his robes, they'd noticed him, and if it hadn't been for the Dunmer sorcerers skill at destruction magic had saved him. They'd pursued him from Skyrim, all the way to the border of High Rock, until he'd managed to lose them in the mountains. Originally, his mission had been to scout out Jehenna as a possible outpost for the coven. With fanatical paladins hunting vampires, Jerec wasn't certain he would be able to complete his mission. What he needed to do now, was find out what in Oblivion was going on.

 

[Delusional]

"May I ask who are you? By the accounts that I know you I apologize for not remembering."

The man responded to Arun's gruff question with a superior tone. He was a larger man, a Nord who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Before the Redguard was able to respond, the man diverted his attention to the two men who had just entered the tavern separately. The first man to enter the tavern was a young Altmer, who like Arun, looked tired and fatigued, most likely from the travel up to this godforsaken town in the northernmost point in the entire continent.

He approached the counter, and sat down next to Arun and this unidentified Nord. Arun did not know this Altmer, but he could see the gleaming eyes, the hint of the fangs of a vampire hidden in his mouth. He was one of his kind, Arun knew, without even asking. It seems I am not the only dark creature here for refuge... Good.

The second man entered not long after, and almost immediately the atmosphere of the inn was transformed by the appearance of this man. He walked with a snobby sense of superiority and pride, head held high, most likely to save his 'noble' nostrils from the stench of the commonfolk. He made quite the show as he approached the counter as well and ordered the most expensive drink, specifically wine, that the tavern had. 200 septims worth of expensive wine it was. "Arrogant pricks," Arun mumbled under his breath so that none of the surrounding men could hear his remark.

Suddenly, the Nord who Arun was about to turn to and respond to, maybe not in the nicest fashion, forgot about the built Redguard. "Hold that question," he said quietly and grabbed his spear before departing from Arun to approach the arrogant nobleman.

He began to speak out, as if to the entirety of the patrons of the inn. Speaking the way a noble, such as the man he was directing the conversation to, to a lowly peasant. "My gods, more noble scum?" Arun mumbled, still quiet enough that only he could hear it. He began to pay attention and listen in on this conversation.

"You know if you wanted to be discrete about your appearance here I would have suggested something less expensive. Also given that fact that a noble like yourself has recently been brought to a small town like this, I am guessing you are here on business like myself and the other two men who had just entered the room about ten minutes ago. So with all that being said." He paused briefly. "Barkeep your biggest room for meetings, open it at once please. And you two by the bar follow me to the room, I believe we are all here for a similar cause."

Arun pushed himself up off the counter to follow this Nord who evidently thought very highly of himself. "Gods, if I have to work with these assholes..." Arun felt the anger boiling inside of him, yearning at him to lash out at these so-called 'nobles'. He almost did too, but he kept himself contained and followed the men into a nearby meeting room.

The meeting room was of a decent size, with a large table centered in the room, surrounded by aged oak chairs. The table and accompanying chairs appeared as old as Nirn itself. A lone lantern hung from the tall ceiling of the room cast a dim yellow glow over the men as they entered.

Arun decided to stay back and withhold from having to engage in conversation with what appeared to be a sad lot if they were going to attempt to revolt against these 'priests'. He leaned back against the sturdy wooden wall of the room and crossed his arms, waiting in the darkness.

 

[The Phantom]

Click. Clank. Click. Clank. The Jerral Mountains were always a peaceful place. High in the snowy peaks where nature was left untouched in all it's extravagant beauty, a castle lay, shrouded in thick mist. Night had closed in on the castle years ago, the eery thing about the castle was that it was never in daylight. It was rumoured that it was haunted and that a powerful Necromancer who used to dwell there had cast a spell; shrouding it in permanent darkness. The Necromancer himself perished 1500 years ago, losing his soul to the Ideal Masters of the Soul Cairn. Nevertheless it retained it's reputation of being haunted long after it's keepers demise.

Click. Clank. Click. Clank. The sound of metal armour was slowly approaching the castle in the distance. For it's name the castle was given the reverse name of it's current ruler. Castle Alucard, although his name is in-fact mispronounced and lacks an a as a last letter. The ruler of Castle Alucard is a very powerful Vampire Lord known as, Dracul. Dracul found the castle 1000 years ago and began using it as his lair, hoping to remain hidden for eternity.

Click. Clank. Click. Clank. The sound was close now. Recently word had reached the Paladins of Arkay of the castles location. They had dispatched an army of around 100 men to dispatch him that night. Dracul had quite the reputation. He was rumoured to have powers incomparable to even the most seasoned of the Volkihar, some going as far as to claim him the most powerful Vampire.

Dracul opened his eyes and climbed out of his coffin slowly and quietly. The sound of clashing metal and flames filled his ears, he was ready for blood. In the corner of his throne room was a cage, within the cage was a poor soul who had stumbled upon his castle uninvited. The Vampire slowly walked over to the man, opened the cage and then bit into the mans neck sucking him dry until only skeletal figure remained. When will the mortals ever learn to leave me be? Dracul thought to himself angrily.

Storming open the gate to his balcony, the Prince of Darkness looked down upon the army of Paladins that had assembled and noticed that they were setting the castle alight. Enraged at their attempts to murder him he transformed into a plume of dark mist and thrust down into the fray. When he made contact with the ground he landed a ground pound on top of a knight, crushing into a crater in the ground.

All the Paladins took a few steps back as they realised what they were dealing with "Behold the power of the night! I AM ETERNAL!" His blood whip then materialised in his hand as he spun around 360 degrees slamming a wave of knights into the other. Dracul fought with the speed of a whirlwind and the ferocity of a Dragon as he cleaved through soldiers. Over the course of the fight Castle Alucard was almost completely burned down and Dracul was left even more enraged.

Despite the fact he was clearly winning he began to grow exhausted of the overuse of his powers. Instead he came up with a plan to stage his own death and escape. There were perhaps ten soldiers left and as one of them charged Dracul with a sword he allowed himself to be impaled. Using this as his chance he faked a deathly scream and, using the last of his remaining power, transformed into a cloud of mist. For the soldiers, it appeared they had finished their quest.


A now completely exhausted and drastically weakened Dracul searched his memory for a place he could go. He decided that after he recovered his first course of action would be to seek revenge against the so called "High Priest" of the Paladins. Dracul remembered something he had heard when out feeding once, that there was a supposed safe-haven for Vampires. A city known as Jehenna. To him it was obviously a fools hope but this meant that it wouldn't be long until the Paladins ransacked the city. He spent the last of his powers flying to the city where he appeared in the inn. Here was where he would recover. Here was where his revenge would start.
He turned to the keeper "Fine wine please or your blood will be forfeit." Dracul then turned to the inn "Who in this place is a fellow Vampire? I need to inquire about a few things to you. You there, you appear to be one of the more noble Vampires. Tell me. What exactly is the reason for all the Vampires being here? And who are you?" The Vampire he was in-fact referring to was Vadenu


(If it seems like I was godmoding I won't do that for the rest of the thread. i was just giving him a worthy introduction, he is now incapable of those feats due to his exhaustion and loss of power.)

 

[Aethalia]

The Imperial soldier dropped to his knees, arms held tightly across his chest. Despite the mans' best efforts, his thin, leather armour was no match for the razor whip that had slashed across his chest moments ago. Blood ran over the mans arms, and he watched the thin, dark haired, Imperial woman before him with pain and desperation in his eyes. "W-why?" He managed to gasp out, looking to his fallen comrades to the right and left of him.
"Because of what you've done"
"I haven't done anything to you!" The man shrieked thinly, a little blood trickling from his mouth.

Iridania lifted a thin eyebrow, in amusement, and she responded "not yet, but you would have, sooner or later. Call this...a pre-emptive strike" she brought the razor whip back, then slashed it across the mans throat, bringing forth a spray of arterial blood. She coiled the weapon, wiping it down with a cloth as she did so. Putting the coiled whip on a specialized hook on her belt, she turned to leave the barracks stooping to pick up her coat as she did so. Putting the garment on, she departed, moving quickly for a place to spend the rest of the night, and the coming day.

She had no intention of staying in Jehenna. Despite the threat of the Paladins of Arkay, and the fact that someone had declared the northern Breton city a 'safe' zone, she knew staying in one place would be a mistake. 'There's no such thing as a safe zone' she thought, recalling several targets that had grouped together, believing there was such a thing as 'safeties in numbers'. Although, it was clear to her as she entered the room, that no one had bothered to tell the vampires inside that.

 

[Sqeagy]

As Ash figured out shortly after departing, there weren't many roads this far out. The Breton found herself riding through dirt paths and forest paths, getting hit by branches in the process. After about a half hour of riding in these makeshift paths, Ash spotted an old sign hanging on a tree. "Jehenna in one mile." She read to herself. "It must be a city, or at the very least a village. A perfect place to hide from those Paladins."

Ash had the horses speed up, anxious to finally get to safety. Another ten minutes passed when she finally spotted the city. Ash sped up the horses even more, wanting to reach the town as fast as possible. This would being a disadvantage, for as the horses continued to gain, they hit a bump in the road causing the carriage to bounce up and send the rider forward off the carriage onto the ground, her sword falling out of the seat and skidding across the ground. With no one to control them, the horses took off in the opposite direction, still dragging the carriage.

"Stupid horses."Ashley groaned to herself, pushing a few pieces of her hair out of her face. She stood up to inspect the damage. She could still stand, so her legs weren't broken. Her left arm hurt whenever she tried to move it, so she had to assume it was broken, but her right arm seemed perfectly fine, minus a few scratches. Ash put her bag over her back and walked over to her sword. Inspecting it for damages, she began to rotate the sword. NOt spotting anything, Ashley placed the sword in its sheathe at her side, and jogged to the entrance, finally arriving in Jehenna. Thinking she get some rest and worry about her arm tomorrow, she entered the town's inn, not expecting to see the amount of people that were actually in there.

 

[Em_Pu]

Torric was almost up the stairs before more people and vampires showed up, "My god who called this meeting!" He says underneath his breath. "Barkeep any new arrivals have them come to the room at once." Torric's order was simple and nice, the barkeep did nothing but nod. Torric finally finding the room takes a seat at the head of the table closet to him, "Those who have called the meeting should step up now and speak true. For I am not waiting to be slaughtered here, when I could be out hunting Paladin's." Torric's voice was something calm and fierce, he leans back on his chair to see who will speak and who will show up, not knowing that almost all members of this court are vampires. He prepares for any outcome of this meeting his hands gripping his decorated spear his beard still somewhat soaked from the mead he drank 10 minutes ago.



OOC: sorry its short, just a transition paragraph

 

[Sid]

Click. Clank. Click. Clank. The sound of soldiers armour, clanking as they marched, filled the air. Siegfried had waited to kill this "Dracul" all of his adult life. Well since he sought redemption anyway. The shadow of Castle Alucard, loomed over him, like a monolith, built in honour of the dammed. The large stone golem towered high. Then it came out, "HALT!" Siegfried ordered. All Paladins stopped, at his order. Siegfried's eyes clashed for a moment with the Prince of Darkness'. He glared angrily down at the army that had formed beneath him.


He watched the Vampire land, and slaughter most of his soldiers. In the middle of the slaughter he shouted "Behold the power of the night! I AM ETERNAL!" The Vampire's whip materialised and swung 360 degrees. The whip caught on Siegfried's crystal pauldron, shattering it. Then, the pauldron remade itself, and he marched through the army. The first few paladins didn't understand what was going on, so he shoved through them. The rest soon realised, and moved for him. The battle raged for what seemed like forever.


Nearing the end of the battle, with only nine other soldiers left, not including himself, he rushed towards the Vampire. His sword sank into the cold flesh of the Vampire. A deathly scream pierced the air, and the Vampire dissolved into mist. The remaining Paladins cheered. Siegfried fell down to one knee, top of the blade facing the ground. "Forgive me gods for I have sinned." He muttered a prayer "Forgive me gods for I have sent many men to their deaths. Forgive for I have not succeeded the task so many have died for. Forgive me gods." He finished his prayer there.


A boy of no more than 18 walked up to him and held his hand out to help Siegfried up, and he said "Drink with me, to days, gone by." Siegfried stood up on his own, ignoring the hand. The boy was youthful, but stupid, he sighed as he said, "His death was atypical of a vampire. How many have you seen dead that passed away to smoke." The young boy replied, "But, but he's dead, isn't he..."
"No, he lives to fight another day." Siegfried sighed, and walked away from the site of battle into the Jerall Mountains, sword shouldered, thinking of redemption.