Post by Spirk on Jul 12, 2005 14:46:48 GMT -5
The mist lay heavy on the floor of the valley a stark light in comparison to the darkness of the night sky. Dawn was only an hour away yet there was no sign of it yet. Instead the moon, half full, shown down on the fog and gave it a silver sheen that made it seem to glow.
“Beautiful.” He whispered softly as he looked down from his vantage point at the top most tower of his mountain castle. He was relaxed, sated on the blood of the local villagers as he did every night. They worshiped him, treated him like a god, and for that he let them live. He didn’t believe in killing them, there was no skill in that. Killing was messy, it showed a lack of self-control and to his kind control was everything.
He was the ruler here, it was his place of power, yet there was something going on, something on the periphery that he couldn’t quite put his thumb on. He had felt it tonight as he had walked the village; there was something about the way his people acted. There was strength, a feeling that hadn’t been there before. He knew they wouldn’t rise against him; they loved him in their own way. He treated them well, allowed them to lead their own lives. In return he gave them his protection and all he asked in return was that he be allowed to feed.
He felt it before the other even arrived. One moment he was alone and brooding, the next he had company. He stayed at his spot by the window and looked down at the fog beneath him, watched it as it snaked through the valley and inwardly he sighed. “So you are here to kill me.” He said softly without turning to face the newcomer, his would be assassin.
“I am here to put a stop to the tormenting of the people of Colair village.” The man replied in a strong healthy voice. “You have tasted your last taste of blood Vampire.”
With a growl he turned to face the invader. It had been such a good night, and now here it was, ruined by this fool warrior who thought he could dare to stand up to the likes of Valla Rast. “Fine human, let’s get this over with.” Valla rasped as he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. He eyed the human as he dropped his longcoat to the floor. That same feeling of unease washed over Valla, something wasn’t right, there was more to this human then met the eye.
“I’m going to kill you now Vampire.” The human said in a casual tone of voice. He didn’t seem worried that he was facing a far superior opponent and this worried Valla even more, there was something about this man that set the vampire on edge.
“You are going to try.” Valla hissed as his cloak flew open and the vampire launched himself at the man. Valla didn’t realize his error until it was too late. Watched, in what felt like slow motion, as the wooden stake dropped from it’s hidden sheath in the man’s wrist and into his palm. He tried to twist at the last moment, to avoid the wooden stake as it plunged upwards, all of the man’s strength behind it, but it was much too late.
The wood pierced his chest, exploded inside of him at the force of impact. Valla felt himself go numb as the stake pierced his heart as he fell to the floor, immobile from the stake in his chest. “Who are you?” He begged as he watched the man pull a large blade from its sheath across his back.
“I am Xane.” The man replied as he lifted the sword. The vampire felt the useless blood in his veins go cold at the mention of the man’s name. He had heard of Xane, from the others scattered through the islands. He had been a legend one hundred years ago when Valla had first been brought over. The vampires had always considered him a myth, only now as the sword descended down, as it bit into his neck, Valla found himself a believer.
“Beautiful.” He whispered softly as he looked down from his vantage point at the top most tower of his mountain castle. He was relaxed, sated on the blood of the local villagers as he did every night. They worshiped him, treated him like a god, and for that he let them live. He didn’t believe in killing them, there was no skill in that. Killing was messy, it showed a lack of self-control and to his kind control was everything.
He was the ruler here, it was his place of power, yet there was something going on, something on the periphery that he couldn’t quite put his thumb on. He had felt it tonight as he had walked the village; there was something about the way his people acted. There was strength, a feeling that hadn’t been there before. He knew they wouldn’t rise against him; they loved him in their own way. He treated them well, allowed them to lead their own lives. In return he gave them his protection and all he asked in return was that he be allowed to feed.
He felt it before the other even arrived. One moment he was alone and brooding, the next he had company. He stayed at his spot by the window and looked down at the fog beneath him, watched it as it snaked through the valley and inwardly he sighed. “So you are here to kill me.” He said softly without turning to face the newcomer, his would be assassin.
“I am here to put a stop to the tormenting of the people of Colair village.” The man replied in a strong healthy voice. “You have tasted your last taste of blood Vampire.”
With a growl he turned to face the invader. It had been such a good night, and now here it was, ruined by this fool warrior who thought he could dare to stand up to the likes of Valla Rast. “Fine human, let’s get this over with.” Valla rasped as he pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. He eyed the human as he dropped his longcoat to the floor. That same feeling of unease washed over Valla, something wasn’t right, there was more to this human then met the eye.
“I’m going to kill you now Vampire.” The human said in a casual tone of voice. He didn’t seem worried that he was facing a far superior opponent and this worried Valla even more, there was something about this man that set the vampire on edge.
“You are going to try.” Valla hissed as his cloak flew open and the vampire launched himself at the man. Valla didn’t realize his error until it was too late. Watched, in what felt like slow motion, as the wooden stake dropped from it’s hidden sheath in the man’s wrist and into his palm. He tried to twist at the last moment, to avoid the wooden stake as it plunged upwards, all of the man’s strength behind it, but it was much too late.
The wood pierced his chest, exploded inside of him at the force of impact. Valla felt himself go numb as the stake pierced his heart as he fell to the floor, immobile from the stake in his chest. “Who are you?” He begged as he watched the man pull a large blade from its sheath across his back.
“I am Xane.” The man replied as he lifted the sword. The vampire felt the useless blood in his veins go cold at the mention of the man’s name. He had heard of Xane, from the others scattered through the islands. He had been a legend one hundred years ago when Valla had first been brought over. The vampires had always considered him a myth, only now as the sword descended down, as it bit into his neck, Valla found himself a believer.