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 Twelve


Acerbus and Jena sat at the back of the old man’s house, doused in the flickering candlelight. The house was too dark to see anything of importance, but the Minotaur head on the wall explained what the old man’s occupation once was. The man was pouring himself a glass of mead.

“What is this favor you ask of us?” Acerbus questioned. He saw the man pour something into the mead. Some type of flavoring perhaps? He paid no attention to it, looking back up to the man.

“Shh! Keep ye damned voice down. Me wife’s upstairs sleepin’,” The man whispered. He took a large gulp of the mead and then reclined back in his chair, sticking his booted feet on the table.

“Sorry,” Acerbus replied and then he whispered, “Are you going to tell us what you want or not?”

“Well yeah. That’s why I let ye in the town,” He said, returning back to the normal position in his chair and leaning forward on the table. Acerbus could smell the liquor on the man’s breath, but the man didn’t seem to be the least bit drunk. “The town’s been needin’ someone to get rid of the ruffian werewolves and you’d do us fine. They been attackin’ us every night since the Cheydinhal Guard’s been dumpin’ all their dead criminals in the lake a little ways north of here. What do ya say?”

Acerbus glanced over at Jena, giving her a chance took look back and then said, “Do you want to do this? I can do it alone, if you don’t want to.”

Jena nodded and patted the throwing knives on her belt. She had around twenty hid on her body, she had one glass one with a silver tip and all the rest were silver or steel. The handles were worn, stating that they were used quite a lot. Acerbus gave a small chuckle and said, “We’ll do this one for free.”


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Acerbus, Jena, and Fidelis were standing at the base of the northeastern wall of Cheydinhal Castle, pondering how they would infiltrate the city. We could always try the sewer system. That’s obviously how they got the bodies in the lake. But there’s a chance it will be locked. He thought, glancing down at the sewer grate.

He knelt down to the small sewer grate and gave it a small tug. Luckily, the grate was unlocked and it opened rather easily; it must have been used recently. Acerbus slipped down into the damp and mucky sewers, the smell of the city’s waste hitting him with amazing force. He felt as though he were about to vomit all over the room. He took the end of his cape and wrapped it around the bottom half of his face, blocking those nasty smells from his sensitive nose.

Jena crouched low, holding her nose closed with her index finger and thumb and staying near the wall. She looked up at Acerbus and asked, “Why aren’t we going to kill the wolves? Isn’t that the purpose of us coming this far?”

Acerbus said, muffled through his makeshift mask, “I want to keep as many of them alive as I can. We won’t discuss this here, Jena, so let’s continue onward.” She nodded and stayed close behind Acerbus.

In the darkness, Acerbus found a wrought iron ladder leading up and out of the sewers of Cheydinhal. He motioned for her to follow, making sure to wipe the mossy scum from each rung he had stepped on so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself.

The sewer cap was flung from its resting place near the Count’s home, hitting the soft dirt with a thud, and Acerbus and Jena emerged from the horrible stench of the sewers. “Good Gods! It smells like the bowels of a dead guar down there. I honestly hope we won’t have to go through there again,” Jena whispered under the thick brush of an evergreen.

Acerbus looked at her and said, “We won’t have to. Someone from the guild came back from an assignment in Cheydinhal and had gotten the property records from the guards’ barracks. Several of the houses were deemed condemned by the city and were boarded up. I’m positive we’ll be able to stay in one of them.” He gave her a warm smile and nodded.

“But what are you planning, Acey?” She asked, glancing nervously about as though she had done something wrong. Acerbus shuffled his feet and wiggled his fingers. His attempts at lying would most likely fail; Jena knew him like the back of her hand. But he decided he would try it anyway.

“Well, I was going to leave the Count a lovely note in his quarters. You shouldn’t worry yourself, Jena. I’ve got this under control,” Acerbus lied. He wasn’t necessarily lying, just giving her a bit of the truth to ponder. Then Jena gave him the look that she had always given him when he lied.

“We’re going to kill someone aren’t we?” She questioned jokingly, but then growing serious when the length of time widened in which it was answered.

“Uhh… Yeah, sorry.”