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 Eleven

Acerbus had been very quiet since the fight between him and Octavian, which was only a few short hours ago. He had been through a lot in the past few days and losing his closest friend was a major blow to his mentality. Acerbus wanted more than anything to stop where he was and write a poem, but he knew very well that he and Jena had to keep moving.

As he walked, he began to think up a poem, wanting to say it aloud, but he didn’t want to erase the silence. Acerbus began to recite it in his mind.

In the darkness, he fled
Unknown to me whether we shall meet again
His terrible temptation
Is the end
Of such a strong and powerful brotherhood
My feeling is that
If and When we shall meet again
He will be my foe
That is when I shall hold
The most dangerous hesitation of all

Yet again, it wasn’t his best piece of work, but he knew it would have to do until he could refine it. Acerbus looked over to Jena, who in turn looked back. She leaned down to pet Fidelis, only to be snapped at viciously.

“Easy, boy!” Acerbus said to the wolf, scratching the tip of his ear.

“How do you do that?” Jena asked, amazed at his ability with animals. “You’ll have to teach me that one day, Acey.” She laughed, giving Acerbus a gentle pat on the back.

But Jena immediately became serious and spoke, “Did you not know, Ace, that Octavian was addicted to Skooma?” Acerbus glanced at her with his deep crimson eyes, reading her facial expression and then again admired her body.

Acerbus couldn’t believe she had just said that. “I… I had no idea. Nothing seemed wrong with him,” He answered solemnly, trying to hold his anger.

“Well, I’ve read somewhere that it affects us differently than mortals. Since we have barely any pulse at all, it takes longer to flow throughout our bloodstream, which means, I suppose, no visual differences. But the effect of addiction stays with him and leaves him to strive for one more fix of his beloved drug,” Jena said rather intelligently, yet another reason why Acerbus admired her. “I’ve never understood why it never affected him mentally. Probably from the century of Skooma than flows through his veins right now; he’s gotten used to it, is all.”

“I do not wish to speak of this any further,” Acerbus replied politely, attempting not to anger her.

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As they neared Cheydinhal’s gates, Acerbus noticed they were locked tight. Archers patrolled the battlements and two soldiers guarded the gate. I did not realize that it was this late into the night, He thought to himself and then he said, “We’ll have to keep moving. The guards won’t let us in this late at night.”

Jena nodded and replied softly, “Should we head to Harlun’s Watch then? That would be the next best place to go. They might have an inn or general store.”

“Yes, that’s where we should go next.” Acerbus turned to his right, Fidelis still trotting merrily by his side.

The walk to the small village east of Cheydinhal was an uneventful one at most. But Acerbus had looked at the surrounding nature, taking in the smells, sights, sounds, and the crisp feel of the chilly wind on his face. The trees knotty branches and supple leaves swayed in the breeze, making a pleasant ruffling noise that made him nearly forget where he was going and why he needed to get there.

Acerbus neared the perimeter of Harlun’s Watch, noticing a very large log wall extending all the way around the small town. What’s going on here? Acerbus thought to himself as they stopped at the wooden gate.

“Who’s there?” A voice called out in the darkness, startling both Jena and Acerbus. An old man stepped out from the shadow of the wall, crossbow loaded with a silver arrow in his right hand and a silver longsword sheathed on his right hip. “You’re not one o’ them beasties are ye?” He questioned, shoving the crossbow at them.

“What are you talking about, ‘beasties’?” Acerbus asked while he tensed himself in case a fight broke out. The elderly man looked at Acerbus and let out a laugh.

“Hahaha! The Lycans, the werewolves. You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout? If ye don’t then I’d say you’re an idiot!” He laughed again, this time shorter and more seriously. “If ye are, I suggest that ye get teh runnin’!” The man steadied his crossbow, but was stopped cold by Fidelis, who pounced on the man. He began to tear at the old man’s shirt and flesh.

“Fidelis! No! Get off of him, now!” Acerbus shouted, shooting a smooth green haze from his fingertips at the wolf. Fidelis stopped biting and scratching at the man, leaving the man bleeding only a little. The man sat up, nursing his fresh wounds.

“Damn! I just got this shirt!” He shouted, grabbing a pink bottle from his bag and pouring it on a rag from his pocket. The man began to dab his nicks and cuts, watching them heal slowly. “Thank ye. At least now I know ye don’t wanna kill me.” He stood up.

“Can we please enter into the town? We need supplies before we keep moving,” Acerbus queried, grabbing Fidelis by the scruff of his neck and gently pulling him back to his side.

The man nodded and then said, “Yeah, you can. But I’ll need a favor from ye.” Acerbus nodded, waiting for the man to open the large wooden gate.