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[color=firebrick][I]Kain lies in a cave weak and frail.Astral stands near the entrance of the cave as Naz'gazel explains their situation and why Kain was revived.

Naz'gazel: It's hard now days Kain.The humans outnumber us and everyday more of us are killed.

Kain: How could this have happened??

Naz'gazel: It came after the end of the Blood War.After the vampires lost the Blood War we lost control of the humans for good.When this happened they established a secret society.They call it the Blood Order.Their mission is to eradicate the vampires of this world.Because of this society this is why we need you Kain.We believe you are the only one who can defeat them.

Kain: What will happen if i do destroy this order?

Naz'gazel: Then..you will be restored to your original glory and vampires will once more rule supreme.

Kain stood up and paced in the small cavern.He stopped in front of Naz'gazel.

Kain: I need to restore my power.I have been asleep for too long a time and my power has faded....I need to feed.

Naz'gazel: Then let us hunt...

[/I][/color]
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[color=royalblue][i]She could feel his breath on her neck, teeth pressing softly into the pale skin. She turned, feeling the spine sheath on her back shift. Then, when she felt his fangs grow longer, she whipped her knife out and plunged it into his chest. The leech stumbled back, clutching at the burning silver in his heart. He turned to look into her eyes once more before falling onto his back....and then closing his eyes.... And going into the darkest sleep of all. She drew her blade free, the blood steaming off the edges.

Zharra Hanani sheathed her weapon and replaced her head scarf. Her eyes were calm and sweet, quite unlike her expression as she killed him. When they hunted her, she gave them what they wanted. Before cutting them off completely. She enjoyed it, but didn't bother joining the fanatical maniacs bent on destroying the entire vampyre race.

Her Lycan friends were always around, loyal to her as they were to her father. But drifting. And Passing. She shivered in the night and felt her sword shift on its chain.[/i][/color]
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Quitly she strold down Mand Street, it was her night to keep watch. The ally was dark as the blackest night, the moon full and bright filled the crimson blue sky. She walked slow and listened to every noise that was made.

She stoped.......

"Why have you come here William, you know its dangerous"
She turned around to face the man, he was a tall dark haired man with percing blue eyes and dark skin.
"You know why im here Sage, you know that Kain is back and he would not mind taking you life."

She smiled then turned and started walking again."He would not mind taking yours as well William. She felt his hand touch her shoulder, then he raped is arm around her waist holding her tight.

"Why must you be so stuborn my dearist Sage."he wisperd softy in her ear."Why must you fret over me, i can take care of myself.She said turning around to face him.
"Because I Lov................
He fell down holding his side."WILLIAM!" but berfore Sage could help him she was thrown agenst the the wet brick wall.

"Oh its sad in deed,Said a talk man in black, that he is going to die, and you'll get to watch Muhahahahaha. Then the man bent over picked up William pulled his neck to his mouth and pirced his skin. Sage could she is dark blood drip down his neck. She watched him drop williams lifeless body to the ground, she gazed at the man unable to move,but why,why could she not have stoped him its like her whole body was glued to the wall. He walked closer,closer untill his nose touched hers."Good night" he said with an evil grin.
Sage could feel her eyes start to get heavy and befor she new it she was asleep.
She awoke to the light of the sun still confused about what happend........
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Alistair grinned as he saw the night patrol slayers prowl the streets of the town for vampires. it was hilaroius. It was stupid of them. The hunted trying to become the hunters. The slayers were suicaidal men.

They knew they would die, and yet, the coutninue to hunt the vampires. Alistair put his hand on his face and began to laugh in it. He was only glad to grant these slayers there wish of death. He drew his sword.

"A vamp! A vaghhashdhhhhhhhh........." the slayer went as his body fell limp to the ground as AListair stabbed him threw the thraot with his blade. A grim smile spread across his face. He looked over and saw anotehr one of the patrol slayers run up to him.

"Oh my GOD! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" the slayers screamed cowardly. Alistari laughed insanely and cut him across the stomache. Alistar licked his blade. He still needed to feed.....
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]Alistar stepped out of the main roads and saw a lone figure leaning casually against the wall. He could automatically scent moonflower and laburnum thick around her. Hair that reached past her waist, and a Tristae sword in her immediate range. Not easy prey, but worth approaching.

Zharra lifted her thick eyelashes ever so slightly and losened the chain in her palm. He stopped several yards away, giving her plenty of room.[/i]

".....get out of here leech."

"....who's going to make me? You a relative of Dominae?"

"She's my blood bound sister."

"Then you must be the Hanani girl."

"...I'm flattered."[/COLOR]
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"My, your blood line has a habit of being beutiful. I credit you on that." AListair said in his gentleman like way.

"Don't flatter me, blood sucker. It will not work."

"Why are you so discriminatory? I cannot help the way i was born, my lady. But it is a crime for the hunters to be hunted. I desipise that. But,with a quick little snap of my teeth, you could join us. how bout it?"

"NEVER! You meesly leech!"

"Fighsty aren't we?" Alsistair said. "WEll, its tiem for my leave, i rather not get caught in a fight on this beutiful night, my lady. I bid you addué." Alstair swung his cape around and dissapeared into the shadows. Zhaara growled under her breath......
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She smiled inwardly and curled her cool slim fingers around the handle of her blade. It glowed faintly in the night.[/i]

"...I will never be one of you."

[i]Zharra turned and looked at the pale moon. It shivered and she cracked her neck lazily. Already, the scent of vampyre was fading. And the front she put on to throw him off balance....had worked like a charm. A gift from Dominae, her ability to shield her thoughts.

Invaluable. Like the blade.[/i][/COLOR]
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"And that's why they call me Azreal."

Blood painted the walls around an old bar. A man sat amongst the bodies, pulling his sword out of one of their heads. He walked out of the bar slowly, lighting a vigtory cig. One of the vampire's still alive in the bar slowly peeked out after him. "W-what are you?"
"Me? Just an old fashioned holy man." The vampire suddenly felt a great swelling of courage. "So your just a-"
"Before you say anything, you have to be alive before I can kill you, and therefore sin." He continued walking, ignoring the vampire scurrying back to the bar. He walked to a fire escape on a nearby building and climbed to the fith floor window. He pushed it open and casually walked through, much to the dismay of the owner. He walked through the front door and out into the hallway. He sat on the steps, waiting to see anymore vampires.
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[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin watched with a detached, clinical amusement, as the vampyre stroked the face of its would be victim, so confident, they were. They had a lot of fun underestimating humans, she'd noticed. The predator slowly let his mouth caress the side of his victim's face, a rather nubil young girl, probably a secretary. Just to add even more to the whole cliche element so joyously present in the entire thing. The alleyway was dark and deserted. it was late at night though with a bright moon....


..And like the avenging angel, Kattarin stalked up behind the pair, who seemed to be enjoying themselves. Well, they probably were, but that was irrelevant. Kattarin let her glaive spin with silken, practiced ease into her dexterous fingers, and placed the tip against the one of the vampyre's kidneys. He stiffened, and stepped slowly away, turning as he did so. Not a bad specimen, if Kattarin did say so herself. Tall, nearly six foot eight, she imagined, and amazingly well built for your average mortal, vampyric or otherwise. Dressed in straight black, with sleeves that seemed so ragged they displayed his forearms, though were in fact styled that way. The tatoos on his inner forearm showed through, appearing like claw marks, a parallel series of lines, complete with broken skin detail and all. Quite realistic, Kattarin was almost tempted to believe they were real, and given by some kind of lycanthrope. The fact that they were perfectly smooth gave them away though.

The vampyre, realising he was being admired, absently stretched, a slight smile on his face, confident he had truly dazzled her. Langurously, he started to move forward, only to stop cold as the glaive point found the throat, and drew a single droplet. Kattarin comment was delivered in a tone acrimonious enough to make the creature wince.[/i]

Kattarin: You're not that good, in either respect.

[I]A voice behind her hissed something to the contrary, and she spun, glaive arcing upwards in a trajectory that left it embedded in the new vampyre's throat, upwards into the brain. Kattarin jerked it free and spun back to the first, somewhat more threatening blood-sucker, only to find him holding a third vampyre at arms length with seemingly no difficulty, then suddenly snap the beast's neck. Kattarin dropped back into stance, her glaive pointed. The first vampyre, however, simply knelt down and inspected the bodies, pulling out two dark amulets of some design Kattarin couldn't make out. Then he sighed.[/i]

"Here we go again"

[I]Kattarin stepped back and returned her weapon to its shoulder sling.[/i]

Kattarin: What was that to mean, and why were you also attacked?

"Same answer to both questions. Kain's back, and I didn't like him the first time around, and I don't like him any more now."

Kattarin: Rogue blood-drinker, are we then?

"Of course. You think I got like this by being complacent and surrounded by countless other vampyres?

[I]Eyeing his very impressive musculature, Kattarin wasn't inclined to disagree. She was about to add more when furtive footsteps again echoed behind her. Several shining eyes greeted her as she spun. She swore, and went to draw her glaive, only to find both hand and neck trapped in a hideously strong hand. Kattarin swore again at her complacency, but rather than bite down, the vampyre turned and ran, Kattarin's weight no burden at all to him. He set her down a phenomenal distance away, and actually inside a room. A rather well furnished room. Kattarin took the nearest chair, and folded her arms, glaring at her apparent "saviour".[/font][/color][/i]
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OOC: Whoops, I forgot I was invloved in this rp, sorry bout that
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Marcus trailed his fingers down the throat of his victim, feeling the hairs stand up on the woman's skin, goosebumbs raised across her flesh. Inhaling the sweet scent of her hair he stood behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. The girl leant against him, titling her head back to smile in his face. The music blared from the speakers that lined the wall, pumping vibrations through the air as a thick mass of people gyrated around the dance floor. Keeping in rythmn with the beat he gently pulled her hair back from her neck leaning in closer to whisper something in her ear, smiling slightly as she laughed and pressed herself closer to his body.

Pressing light kisses to her neck he moved her slowly away from the main dance floor into a shadowy corner, near the seated section. Wrapping an arm aroud her waist he cupped her cheek with the other as he slowly sinked his fangs into the tender flesh at her throat. Her eyes widened as she realised, but Marcus covered her mouth with his hand before she could scream, her muted cries drowned out by the music.

Drinking his fill he closed her unseeing eyes and seated her down on one of the sofas, placing a bottle in her hand and laying a small kiss on her throat, closing the wound with a small drop of blood from a cut he created on his tongue. Running his hand through her hair he smiled slightly and exited the club. Pulling his collar up against the chill of the night air he scanned the street and spotted a young man hurrying across the path. Even from this distance he could see the blood that marred the young man's hands and anxiety that touched his eyes. Glancing to an alley way he could just make out the shape of a foot hidden behind a set of wastebins and the air reeked of death. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as Marcus set off after his next meal of evil blood.
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]He exited the alley and turned another corner. Against the building, she was watching him. Patiently, quietly, almost dreamily. He could smell her. Pheremones mostly, sweat, probably from a close encounter. But something about her wasn't quite right. He pulled in closer and was found out.

His hand was outstretched, and the point of her silver daggar was tickling it.[/i]

"Hello Marcus."

"....where did you hear my name?"

"From a half dead female, trying to discover the meaning of life, while strung out on stimulants that will never get her further than life."

"She wasn't stoned was she?"

".....oh gods. So tell me, Marcus. Who am I?"[/COLOR]
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OOC: Hey I just remembered something. Isn't this supposed to be in the 18th century?
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Marcus growled lightly in his throat, his lip curled back in a small snarl. He didn't like being caught off guard and he hated others having the upper hand. The fact that this female knew his name was hindering to him. It was old superstition that if anyone had your name they could work terrible witchcraft upon you. Well, Marcus had lived long enough not to dismiss superstition...and his instincts begged him not to underestimate this woman before him. Folding his arms across his chest he narrowed his eyes at the woman, his mind searching for something that could answer his questions.

Probing her mind he found nothing, his senses slipping over a surface not unlike glass to his mental touch. Raising a blonde eyebrow he looked her in the eye, his face impassive as they contested in a battle of wills. How strange this female was. Resisting to his penetrating gaze he could not determine the slightest thought fromher mind. This startled him greatly but his expression remained that of calm indifference as he continued his ministrations.

"You, my dear, are an enigma to me." His tone was even as he spoke, his voice cultured and smooth. This was to be expected of a vampire his age, he considered language to be a great gift and one to be utilised. A smile spread across the womans face as she watched the vampire standing before her, her dagger never leaving its place, outstretched before her.

"However," Marcus raised a finger, the silver ring adorning it glinting in the lamplight of the street. "I do believe that since you know my name, it is only courtisy that I, in turn, should know of yours."

He inclined his head slightly, waiting for her answer.
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She moved in closer, her breath on his cheek. To him, the scent of moonflowers was almost overpowering. Her teeth nipped softly against his ear, and he felt like pushing her against the wall and opening her throat. The daggar pressing against his stomach helped quell that feeling.[/i]

"Zharra Hanani."

"...."

[i]Quite suddenly, she didn't seem quite as apetizing. Either that, or the fact that her blood was poison to him. But by saying what he knew to be her true name, she was no longer at the point of using his name against him. Although by her last name, he could detirmine quite a bit about her person. Dangerous, and a Lycan friend. How lucky could you get?[/i]

"....so I show my good faith in you. Vampyre Marcus."

[i]Her lips brushed against his cheek and she purred softly.[/i][/COLOR]
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He exhaled a soft sigh as he felt her lips brush across his skin. He could sense the blood surging through her veins, pulsing powerfully in a rythmic beat. The song of life did indeed sing strongly in this one and he found himself enthralled by the very sight of her flushed cheeks and the thin sheen of sweat that beaded upon her skin. His right hand slipping into his coat he raised his left hand and caressed her cheek with his fingers, placing his index finger under her chin and tilted her head to face his gaze. He smiled at her, a fang protruding over his bottom lip in a feral expression.

Suddenly the pressure of her dagger was relieved from his stomach and she found her blade held upwards by a slim stilletto held in Marcus' right hand. The blades crossed, locked between them, inches from their respective faces.

"There is hardly faith when you hold me at knife point Miss Zharra." He smirked in amusement and flicked his blade and returned it to its sheath. Zharra sighed in irritation.

"So now we are equal then?" She questioned. He tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

"Maybe...why not just kill me now with that sword you have concealed there. Heaven knows I deserve it."
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She licked the side of his throat, then let her none to dull fingernails rest there.[/i]

"Because my blood kills anyways."

[i]He placed his hand over hers, feeling the pulse on her wrist, then bringing it up to his lips. She smiled slightly, showing utterly normal teeth in return. The wind picked up, and the beaded fringe of her scarf blew over her face. He pulled it back over her head and she smiled softly.[/i]

"....so now you see what I am. Where will you go?"

"It doesn't change very much. Although you look like a Tristae."

"Would it break your heart if you knew I was?"

".....how can you be one? Your father was a Lycan-friend"

"So he was. And so I am. My mother was the sister of Elizabeth Dominae."

[i]His eyes widened, then closed again. That explained her scent, and her power. Witchblood, mixed with human and a trace of Lycan. She wouldn't kill him outright, but make him very weak. And to taste her might almost be worth it. She purred again and this time, let him touch her lips.[/i][/COLOR]
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Tasting her softly he nipped her lips with razor sharp fangs, the blood that stained his tongue sending jolts through his body. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened, unseeing as the hairs raised all over his body. Powerful blood maybe, but could he truly afford to be so weak. Resting his head on her shoulder he pressed his right hand against the brick wall behind them, his other hand held lightly at her throat.

"Do you seek to rid the world of the vampyre scourge?" his voice was barely a whisper as he spoke, stirring breath grazing her ear as he placed small kisses on her collar bone.

"No..." He barely heard the murmered word, his preternatural hearing picking up the faintest of sounds. Marcus had no knowledge of the coming of Kain, the distance was too great and his mind was far too preoccupied. Closing his eyes he stole himself for his coming actions and bit down upon her throat. Piercing, awesome flavoured blood flowed unhindered into his mouth, the sensation setting long dead taste buds aflame. A small cry escaped his lips as he withdrew sharply and sank to his knees before her, his hands trailing down her body to clasp her hands in a bruising grip.

His veins were on fire. The blood he had consumed searing his heart with such a mighty suffusion of power he thought it might burst right there. His vision blurred as images flashed within his mind, chaotic and serene, painful yet soothing, devastating but blindingly beautiful. Suddenly, as if a veil were lifted the visage of Kain the Corrupter invaded his mind a warning hammering inside Marcus' head.

Muscles jerked with involuntary motion as Marcus dropped his head to his chest. Gripped in shocking torture, his body constricted and he roared in exquisite agony.
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She grabbed him by the collar and jerked him to his feet, with a strength from her Lycan side. He gasped for air and nearly collapsed against her. She put her arms around him, keeping him from swaying from side to side. He shook his head, trying to clear the vision. It was both disgusting and nervewracking. How could he not see it coming?

Zharra sighed softly and pressed her fingers to her throat. The wound knit itself back together and she felt his face. His cheeks were flushed, brilliant from the blood he had recently consumed. Not much, but enough to give him a swift burst of insight, and then searing pain. She shook her head back and looked him in the eye.[/i]

".....I saw him from far away. He doesn't know what I am yet."

"He will come to destroy and banish. You might be killed."

"I know. I don't mind much though. If I die, the entire Lycan pack will try to hut him down."

[i]She smiled softly and rested her cheek on his own shoulder. Light and soft, but still painful.[/i][/COLOR]
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[i] A whispers edge that will slowly burn, "Surley I will return."...
what waits for him at journey's end, eternal mourning for the land. [/i]

Azreal opened his eyes with a shock. He had fallen asleep, his cigarette barley missing scorching his lap. He half expected to be bound and gagged, vampire's cackling insanely at his struggle. Instead he found himself still on the staircase, his sword at the bottom. He stood up and slowly yawned. The silver moon shown brightly over the shadowed streets. His stiff leg joints moaned as he stood up, like a rusty machine. The dark skies threatened rain, like icy pitchforks awaiting their release.
A shiver flew down his spine as a heavily cloacked figure approached him. It seemed to drift liflessly from side to side, swaggering in the wind. Icy cold breath streamed from under it's hood. Azreal was quick to draw his sword. The figure continued to dreamily float, as if in an endless waltz.
Azreal raised his sword and tried to bring it down on the figure, but it passed through his sword and through his body. An icy chill followed as the figure began to speak, it's voice split and snake like. "Had I not been so curious, your heart would be in my grip." Azreal spun around, the air momentarily leaving his body. "You wouldn't want to talk things out, now would you?" He said, trying to act like it was all a joke.
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Alistair stood atop the church's buildings mantle. HE stared down at he city with a soft smile on his face. His red eyes pulsed and his soul yearned for death.


He drew his Crimson Blade. He looked down upon the people walikg carelessly in the night streets, as if the threat of the vampires was over. [I]How arrogatn of them![/I] Alistari thought to himself. He coevered himself in his claok and it broke into a mass of black bats.


He needed to find the slayers who threatened the vampiric rising. He needed to take out the strongest first. Only he could do it. Him and one other vampire that he knew of. He reformed onto the ground in front of a large building that looked torn down and destroyed. He walked in.....


"Astral! I need your blade. Tonight is a hunt! To gain back the glory of the Vampires and the great ruler, Kain!" Alsitair said Alstral who was sleeping on a couch. Slaister grimmiced and kicked the couch, waking him up.


"what d oyou want, Alsitair?"

"I need your blade in battle....."
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OOC: Sorry for the late start, but I have not been on the internet for about a week, so I haven't been able to check up on this.

IC:[COLOR=blue][I]Naz'gazel and Kain both stood silently atop the roof of an empty two story house, surveying the shadowed, moon lit town for their first long-awaited feed in ages past. Naz'gazel examined the once greatly feared Kain. He was a little different now, weaker he thought, after spending vast time again in death. His build was a little slender, and he seemed unnaturally pale, even for a vampyre, but his former strength and powers would soon return once he began to feed again.

Glancing out towards the restless town, Naz'gazel could still hear the endless skirmishes between man and vampyre that continued to grow in recent times. The blood curdled screams that would echo throughout the dark and menacing sky would bring a faint, demonic smile to his cracked lips.

Suddenly Naz'gazel's ears pricked up, similar to that of a wild animal when listening for signs of life. His cruel and bloodshot eyes darted down towards the blood stained, stone tiled roads to meet a breathless and fatigued young man who appeared to be fleeing from danger. The man collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, and scurried to the side of the house to lean upon it. Naz'gazel could sense the overpowering fear and shear terror that the man had just experiened.

Naz'gazel positioned himself directly above the foolish human, and ever so quietly drew his sword. He slowly felt the sadistic blade with the back of his lifeless forefinger, and loosely gripped the handle of the blade as he held it aloft the edge of the roof. With the glistening tip of the blade pointed down, Naz'gazel released his weapon, allowing it to plummet to the ground. The moon light shone upon the now dazzling sword as it sang brilliantly in its flight. The weary and unknowing human suddenly had a sense of great and terrible dread rush throughout his body, causing the pulse within him to almost triple what it originally was. He tilted his head up, and saw two figures standing high above him, watching, waiting, as a third object spiralled down towards his face, innocently humming as it brought with it his doom.

Naz'gazel closed his eyes and raised his head, and grimacingly smiled as he heard the joyful meeting of the man and his sword. Then he turned towards Kain, slightly grinning.

[/I]"Hungry?"[/COLOR]
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Astral quickly awoke, becoming fully alert, only to see Alistair standing in front of him. He soon relaxed, releasing a yawn.

[B]Astral[/B]: What do you want, Alistair?

[B]Alistair[/B]: I need your blade in battle.

[B]Astral[/B]: My blade? Why?

[B]Alistair[/B]: To stop those who dare try to stop the vampiric uprising, what else do you think? We need to kill them all in order to regain our glory as vampires and spread the word that Kain has returned! By the way, where is Lord Kain?

Out of everything Alistair had just said, Astral only heard his last question. He had heard the same speech before. Some of the words were different but it was still pretty much the same and it really bored him every time Alistair said it.

[B]Astral[/B]: Naz'gazel took him out for a little tour. I decided to stay here and rest, that is, until you came in.

[B]Alistair[/B]: Nevermind that. The point is are you going to come along?

Astral had really wanted to rest up but a chance to fight powerful slayers was something he couldnt refuse. Besides, he wanted to try out the new powers he gained during his "hibernation". He got off the couch and picked up is sword, Bloodlust.

[B]Astral[/B]: Of course...
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Marcus' breathing was ragged as he clutched Zharra to him, his head resting on her shoulder as hers was on his. The images he had seen in the blood were now burned into his mind. The evil figure of Kain stood before him, a monstrous devil who would bring chaos to the world once more. Marcus could still remember the old war, how the blood flowed in the streets and human screams tore the air like rusting blades. Never, in all his long years had he seen such destruction. Then he chose to remain alone and impartial to the war, watching the humans fight for their survival against the vastly superior vampyric army. But now, now with this new rising he knew that he must fight, that he must take a stand against his bretheren for this world that he so cherished.

Holding on to Zharra with rapidly strengthening arms he buried his right hand in her hair and inhaled her sweet scent. She had much power did this one, he didn't think he'd be partaking of it again. Although, the visions he recieved were valuble, scenes of chaos and war now descending upon the world.

His body tensed suddenly as an inhuman screech tore the air, echoing through the streets like a siren. His eyes widened as he withdrew from Zharra and turned to look out into the street. The victim he had been following previously seemed to have met with a rather sticky end, but that was not the horror he saw. His heart clenched in fear at the scene that played out before him. It was Kain. Kain was back.

Darting back into the alley he clutched Zharra tightly and whispered in urgent voice.

"We must leave. Now, hurry."
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]For the first time, Zharra raised her eyes up to look at the moon. He pulled on her arm urgently but instead of moving she shuddered. Then it was too late. Her back arched and the scarf slipped from her head to her shoulders. He stared, uncomprehending, and then his eyes widened. Her Tristae self had glorified, and the scent of witchblood permeated the air.[/i]

".....he is weak."

"He won't be for long. Let's make the best of it."

[i]Zharra let her mind drift back to rationality and followed Marcus with long powerful strides. Obviously, she wasn't the type to faint gracefully into her hero's arms.

The two stopped several miles away, and he supported her arm gallantly.[/i]

"....rest."[/COLOR]
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[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Kattarin remained silent, allowing him to introduce himself, and state his case, before she spoke or dismembered him. She wasn't certain which she'd try first. Either way, the man in question didn't seem bothered. He took a seat across from her, an amused glint in his eyes. Kattarin didn't meat them, instead surveying her surroundings. Very Gothic, of course. She'd swear she could see ivy climbing up one wall. Black leather chairs folded seamlessly into dark walls and dark floor, leaving the room an empty void. The occasional piece of grey, not silver, metal emanated softly out at her, showing a small detail of furnishings. She turned back to the inhabitant, who still remained reposed on a very large, upholstered, chair. He was still simply looking at her, without a lot more expression than last time she'd checked.

This time, however, he eventually responded with conversation.[/i]

"Welcome to my den of iniquity"

Kattarin: I can tell.

"Astute one, aren't you. The next question, no doubt, is why exactly you are here"

[i]His voice was soft, almost resonating, and overlaid with several tones of emotion, all well hidden.[/I]

"To put it bluntly, I have no idea. You're here because I decided, at the time, to drag you along."

Kattarin: A better story would be why you needed to "drag" me anywhere.

"Well, that's a rather long story. Kain, in his reign, attempted to gather all vampyric kind under his banner, and rule over all living things. The humans, of course, never had a chance against that kind of vampyric army. There were a few of us however, older ones mainly, rogues, who desired not to live in such a world. We avoided Kain and his minions, dispatched them when we had too, which was often no hard task, considering we were older than they by countless years, and preyed on humans as we would. Eventually, they learnt to recognise us, and they started sending special groups designed to hunt us down. Extermination squads, basically. In this case though, they failed rather miserably. They didn't stop though. This, did, however, lead to another problem for Kain. Several of us decided that sabotage would be a perfectly reasonable form of retaliation. Entropy-based warfare. We killed vampyres at every opportunity, then disappeared. We freed whole trains of human slaves, especially when the war started. Inbetween battles, far from any populace, they needed them badly, and we didn't let them have them. We starved many. Kain, of course, took it personally. So the attacks on us redoubled. We, for a while, actually joined forces with the humans, and sowed slaughter in open battle as well. When Kain was defeated, we made a pact with the humans. We'd be allowed to go free, provided we disappeared, and made no more. No elder vampyre spawned any progeny from that point on."

Kattarin: But some younger followers of Kain survived?

"Of course. They spread, and created followers of their own. For a while, my brethren and I occupied our nights by putting down resurgent cults, each of which had a leader firmly convinced they were the paramount choice for a successor to Kain. Eventually, they settled down, and we returned to our solitary existance. "

Kattarin: Then what were you doing in public like that?"

"There was a stipulation we insisted on when we bargained with the humans. If Kain returned ...how do you say it now? All bets were off. We needed to be free to help defeat him, and we all were, at that point at least, creatures of honour."

Kattarin: At that point?

"There have been a few Decays, into mindless beasthood, but other than that we've all turned out okay."

Kattarin: So you're wandering around trying to find some way to help defeat Kain? Assuming, that is, that he is actually back.

"I assure you, he is. And yes, that is my main goal. I was actually trying to determine whether any of the survivors of the last war were in the area, as they would be most helpful. You, however, will probably do."

[i]That last was delivered in what sounded like overwhelming condescension, though Kattarin detected an undertone of wicked mirth. Kattarin sighed, and stood up, walking further into the room.He stood up, and she was again struck by how imposing he truly was. Six eight, arms as thick as her waist, without that overly bulky look. Truly told, his amazing musculature was in perfect proportion to his height. Kattarin shifted her attention back to the room, only to have it dragged back again as he spoke.[/i]

"You realise in being seen with me, and we did leave survivors, you've singled yourself out as a primary target"

Kattarin: I've done this all my life. It's nothing new.

"Nevertheless, I think it would be best if you remained under my protection."

[i]Again, he was gently mocking her. The hair on the back of her neck started to rise at the intimation though. On the other hand....[/i]

Kattarin: I'd be honoured...

[i]If he was shocked, it didn't show. Of course, she couldn't actually see him at the moment, but she didn't let that dissuade her. She heard him moving around behind her, and when she turned, she was forced to laugh. Despite everything else, he was still the kind of person who had a bed set away for guests.[/i]

"You humans need your sleep far more than we do"

[i]Kattarin sighed, waved it off, and acquiesed anyway. She was, actually, somewhat tired. He retired from the room rather quickly, but didn't fail to catch her warning look.[/font][/color][/I]
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Marcus took Zharra's hand and lead towards a building, unlocking the door with great care. Several deadbolts and key locks later he opened the door and lead her up a long flight of stairs. He spoke to Zharra as they climbed

"I own this entire building, but I only use the penthouse appartment, it serves as sufficient cover."

Opening the thick door at the head of the stairs he holded it wide for her to enter first nodding his head as she turned to give him a fleeting smirk when she passed. The main room was immense, decorated in subtle ochres and reds, favouring silver appliances rather than gold. Heavey drapes covered the windows and a large fireplace dominated the far wall. Two deep leather chairs sat facing the fireplace, a glass set on the oaken table perched between the two chairs. Zharra approached the glass and noted the thick red liquid that half filled it. Raising an eyebrow she turned to Marcus and nodded in the direction of the glass.

"Midnight snack?"

Marcus laughed and took the glass in his hand, swirling the liquid around the inside before raising it to his nose and inhaling a deep breath. Holding the glass out to her he inclinded his head in assurance.

"It's wine, trust me," at the quizzical look she gave him he rolled his eyes and clarified. "I like the smell, really blood's better warm." he chuckled softly and placed the glass back on the table. Shrugging his coat from his shoulders he hangs it from a stand near the door. He unbuttons the top three buttons on his shirt and walks past Zharra to peer into another room. Glancing over his shoulder he gestured towards the room.

"You can rest here, I don't usually have visitors, at least not living ones, but it's comfortable." Zharra squeeze past him, brushing her hand across his cheek as she entered the room. A lavish four poster bed dominated the room hung with red velvet drapes, a large oaken dressing table took up another wall, complete with a gilted mirror. Blowing him a soft kiss she smirked and motioned to close the door.

"It's wonderful thankyou." The door shut before Marcus' face and he smiled slightly before retreating to his own room. It was a bare windowless room, the only furniture a large heavy, lead lined coffin sat square in the middle of the floor. The lid was decorated with a silver burial effigy and he ran his fingers across its face briefly before lifting the heavey lid and slipping inside. Closing his eyes he thought briefly for the woman in the next room before slipping into worried dreams of chaos and carnage, a single face permiating his thoughts. Kain.
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