The Vampire Prince, The War That Started It All. Options

[Lord Veneficus]

Hey you guys. This is my new fan-fic. Comments and critiques would be the most welcome. Oh, and don't tell me this is cliche', as I already know that. Just give me some pointers and advice, please.
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“Praise be to Lord Vile and the blood patron, Molag,” Acerbus whispered in the darkness as he stood from the obsidian pedestal in the chapel. The glass windows were stained with the color of blood. The moonlight poured through them, casting the crimson rays all across the room, bathing him in the light. He turned and headed for the hidden trap door into his home below the chapel.

Acerbus Occisor was born an Imperial. His hair was as black as the Void itself and it fell to his wide shoulders. His eyes were of the deepest and darkest crimson, seduction and cunning flowed from them. His face was pale and very gaunt due to the lack of blood he drunk. A long, crooked scar ran diagonally down his back. Acerbus wore a tight black leather suit and a dark sapphire blue hooded cape.

He climbed down the ancient oak ladder and into the cave that surrounded him. The walls of the old place had fresh pickaxe cuts into them for more room and walking space. The amount of recruits who had joined the Esoteric Fangs had stretched the cavern to several levels below the chapel. It was an astonishing amount of vampires in one location. Over three thousand had joined the guild over a one hundred year span. But a thousand are there under the chapel, as it is the place where the guild was founded.

The guild of assassins has prospered over the span of one hundred years and now rivals the power and fear of the Dark Brotherhood presence in Cyrodiil. The Fangs have been taking most contracts from the Dark Brotherhood, almost crippling the ancient guild from under its foundations.

Acerbus nodded at the vampiric children roaming about the halls of the expansive cavern. The uppermost level of the cave was the market, with several other sections ranging from fletchers to bladesmiths and general goods to large bottles filled to the brim with human blood, ever so sweet blood. He moved towards the back wall of the top level and to the vendor sandwiched in between two larger stalls.

“Hi, Peter. What do you have with you today?” Acerbus asked with questioning eyes. The vendor, a gray headed Nord taller than his stall, stood there swaying to some music that no one but he could hear.

“I have just come back from High Rock. It seems that they have been performing illegal experiments and doing research there. I was lucky enough to steal a few books from their alchemy labs. Here have a look,” he answered politely. Acerbus could tell from the tone of Peter’s voice that he had just recently fed, as he is usually irritable after a missed feeding. Acerbus grabbed the red leather bound book and began to flip through the pages. The script it was written in was a beautiful one, curvy letters and the perfect slant of them. Acerbus immediately recognized it as a woman’s; no man could write like that.

He finished flipping through the first one and put it down. He picked another up, this one was bound in a blue cotton cover and was embedded with blood red rubies. Acerbus opened it up to the first page.

Porphyric Hemophilia: The Vampires

He began to read it. It told of the many different clans of vampires of Tamriel and their abilities and weaknesses. This was the perfect book to further increase his studies of his kin. He looked up from the book and queried, “I’ll take this one. How does twenty septims sound?”

Peter nodded and Acerbus placed the gold on the table and walked away. He moved downstairs to his room and began to drink a bottle of blood, all the while reading his newly acquired book.

EDIT: Changed seductive to seduction

This post has been edited by Lord Veneficus: Jul 7 2008, 05:57 PM

[Lord Veneficus]

Chapter Three

In the dark dining hall, the chatter about the attack was becoming a bit of a burden on Acerbus’ nerves. He stood from the pinewood table, grabbed a bottle of bloodwine, and went to his room for quiet. He never liked senseless chatter.

He opened the large wooden door, creaking as it slowly glided open. He grabbed “Porphyric Hemophilia” and began to read. His favored clan was one of Nordic blood, the Volkihar. It was said in the book that they lived under the frozen lakes of Skyrim and could freeze a man’s blood with their breath. He wished he had those powers.

A knock at his door made him jump. “Come in,” He said, still shocked at the sudden burst of noise. Ralas, the Dark Elf ancient, entered the room along with three other ancients. He wore a black robe, strange white runes were written on the cuffs and on the hem of his hood. Ralas sat in the chair across the table from Acerbus.

“Acerbus, we have chosen you to lead the fight against the Lycanthropes. You are experienced enough to get inside and tear their foundations from underneath them. If you succeed in this mission, Acerbus, you will become a member of the council and will be paid handsomely,” Ralas said calmly, his eyes were shooting from the bottle of bloodwine to Acerbus. “Here, take this amulet. It was custom made for you. The sapphire has an enchantment which enables you to jump to high places and it reduces the pain and damage that the sun does to your skin. Oh, and that steel blade will do you no good against those monsters. Take this.”

Ralas pulled the amulet and sword from the depths of his jet black robe. The deep blue sapphire was the size of the Amulet of Kings and held an eerie glow. The chain was made of silver and had strange runes engraved on the outside. The blade he was given felt as light as a feather and looked as though it weighed well over thirty pounds, which confused him. Its color was that of ivory and had an edge that could slice a strand of hair in half from tip to tip. “I really don’t think I deserve such a trinket or a blade of this expense,” Acerbus said, flattered at the offer.

He knew he could not turn down any member of the council. It could very well lead to his slow and painful death. “But I’ll take them and use them against the one who slaughtered Cyrus,” Acerbus said, placing the amulet around his neck and tying the sheath of his newly acquired sword to his belt.

“The name of that sword is Excessum Addo, it holds the soul of a powerful vampiric mage who went against our rules and killed many of your brethren. We had to… punish him for his disobedience. Use it wisely, friend,” Ralas said as he stood from the chair and limped from the room.

A strength washed over Acerbus and his body felt lighter. Like all his burdens had been lifted from him. He looked down at his sword and he could swear on Molag that he could hear the tormented screams of the mage.

He shook the idea from his mind and entered the training room. He was eager to see what Excessum could do. He saw his good friend, Octavian, and said, “Hey, Octavian. Let’s spar.”

The Breton nodded and pulled his silver blade from its sheath. Once he caught glance of Acerbus’ new sword, he gave it a puzzling look. “Where you get that at?” He asked, seemingly afraid at the glow it emitted.

“This? Ralas gave it to me. Said it was called Excessum Addo. He gave me this amulet, too,” Acerbus answered as he slowly eased it out of its sheath and lifted his amulet up for Octavian to see. Octavian bent over to look into the medallion and jumped back. “What’s wrong?”

“Acerbus, that sword just screamed at me. That’s a little strange don’t you think?” Octavian replied.

Acerbus looked at him with his red eyes. “You hear it too?” He queried.