This whole chapter brought out a new side to Draken, all a great write - but this paragraph is outstanding above all the rest:




You captured one woman's voice in the middle of that chaos, filled with the emotions a woman would actually feel in seeing those she lived and worked with slaughtered and under attack. The trauma of what she was feeling mixed with the anger - that is so real, I wish Bethesda could get a handle on that instead of making the women amazons with no feelings or emotions.

Then Draken realizing he hasn't got a chance if he keeps fighting, and the reader is panicking - then breathes a sigh of relief as he goes invisible.

Draken's last line here "Where is Raven, is she even alive still" - hugely powerful ending to a great chapter! Loved this all, but this last paragraph is outstandingly perfect. Awesome Write !!!

Nah, if Raven was that good she wouldn't have gotten captured in the first place.

Anyway, I like how Draken was portrayed as equal parts vicious and skilled but still vulnerable and far from invincible. Not to mention the psychic warfare. It's always a pleasure to read someone who does more in a fight than just swing his manly sword and throw out witty one-liners.

As for Raven, I predict they meet up in the middle. Then they'll team up and have a nice bonding-moment.

Acadian: Yes, that ability is pretty cool. I am sure many would use it for...other reasons hehe(giggles like perverse child). And who knows? Raven is pretty quick

mALX: I did some reading and how to write enemies in a fanfic or RP. It did make sense to make the enemies seem more human. It was my first time, but I hope to improve my storytelling on that aspect.

Jack: Definetly. Crucial to writing battles is to make a character believable and vulnerable to battle. And as for the latter...are you hacking into my computer? Or my mind, even? Just asking.

Covered in the Embrace of Shadows, Draken concealed himself in a dark corner. He watched as the frightened and paranoid bandits spread out, each and every one checking a corner.

“Search out,“ said a large muscular Nord. “But do not stray too far.”

He stalked from the sides, sword also invisible, but nevertheless deadly. His first target was a High Elf man. Instead of carrying crude weaponry, he resorted to making use of the arcane. His hand high in the air, a bright flash emanating from his palms. It did not take long for him to realize he was using a spell to detect the dead, to detect a vampire.

He moved away from him as he turned, his eyes opened and enlightened to that which was hidden, yet to no avail. The Altmer’s advantage was his magical abilities, but hiw disadvantage was his lack of armor or any special armament save for his short-sword. Taking him out would be easy, but it would cost Draken his invisibility. Simply waiting for him to find Draken and howl to his allies of his location would prove far more costly.

Draken chose the prior, managing to go behind him to deliver the killing blow. Confident in his next kill, he failed to anticipate the overturned bowl beneath his feet, and the other metal wares. A clank and a thud roused the attention of those nearby. A Khajiit, who’s eyes were far more efficient than that of a Man or Mer, spotted Draken as he shouted of his location. He had no choice but to attack. He materialized into the normal form, raising his blade and sinking it to the back of the Altmer’s neck. He died before he had a chance to detect death.

The two Khajiit males charged with teeth and claws, but to no success. Draken had enough of it. He maneuvered the sword before him as it gyred toward his two feline opponents. It removed part of the first Khajiit’s ears. While the second’s whiskered snout was completely severed.

The earless one reached for an imperial sword and lunged himself at the vampire, his sharp-tipped weapon intent on sinking into Draken’s neck. The Nosferatu caught the hilt of the sword, but instead of using it against the khajiit, he threw the weapon away. This led the cat to attack him until a powerful kick to the thorax forced the acrobatic cat clear across the short chamber, slamming into the wall. Draken moved to end the khajiit once and for all, but a harsh blow came to his back. An intense pain struck his spine, forcing him to collapse to his knees as his pale face sprouted blue veins. The Nord! He had completely been taken over by his blind rage that he had forgotten about the Nord!

The war-hammer had fractured the bones in his spine, causing the creature to scream out in a terrifying wail as he was sent sprawling to the floor. He crawled, trying to get to his feet, but he only collapsed. Draken could not believe this. Rage, shock and disbelief twisting his pale face. His body could function, as it was blessed with the Dark Gift. But even a vampire had it’s limitations. He lived whereas a human would have been dead. He managed to crawl toward his sword, which was flung away by the blow.

He watched as the Nordic warrior removed his helmet, tossing it aside as sweat covered his face. “By Ysmir. We finally got it.”

The khajiit on the other side of the room replied with a raspy voice as he picked up Draken‘s weapon. “I’ll kill em! Sell ashes for coin!”

*****

The stronger the smell of blood, the more she lost consciousness. The more her animalistic instinct took over her. She covered her nose, climbing up the ladder and pushing open the trapdoor as she led herself into another large hall. As she set foot upon the upper floor, the smell of spilled blood was even greater than before, infiltrating her nostrils. More blood was shed and it wasn’t by her hand. She heard cries of battle and the savage roars of a familiar individual. Draken! She realized. But as the scent of sanguine grew, she lost it all. Forgotting everything else.

The female creature ran through the halls with swift feet, arms and legs awash with dirt and grime for days with lack of bath. The rims of her robes fluttered as air passed through, everything in her line of sight was blurred. Her vision was a crimson haze, as the blood-lust had taken over.

She passed from hall to hall, following the scented trail that would lead to her palate being satisfied. Her legs were a blur of supernatural speed, guiding her toward carnage. As she turned to a corner, she saw what made her mouth water. Two warm-blooded prey. A Nordic brute and an acrobatic Khajiit.

The feline was raising a blade, high in the air, preparing to kill whatever prey was beneath his feet. Complete with the power and strength of generations, the young vampire screeched at the sight of prey. A hiss escaped her lips. She leapt over tables, chairs and broken pillars, finally leaping into the air and landing atop of the khajiit before he could make a kill. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hand shoving his head aside to expose his neck.

Nails sliced through his fur as though it were parchment, rending the cat flesh beneath. The fated Suthay-Raht struggled helplessly against the lithe, ferocious creature, but the woman was too violent, too strong for a simple being of mundane strength to shrug off. Her powerful jaws opened wide to frightening lengths, allowing her long teeth to extend even further. He yelped as they closed on his throat, piercing his neck with ivory fangs. A doomed scream rang out, and warm mortal blood gushed from his jugular vein and into her mouth as her sharp canine-like teeth sank inches past flesh. Yet it was not enough to sate her thirst, as another now ran to her. The Nordic barbarian.

She cracked the Khajiit’s neck, shoving him aside hard upon the a row of wooden spikes alongside the walls in a corner. A snap of his spine was heard, and the bursting of pulmonary arteries was also discerned. She turned around to see Nord stop in his tracks, held back by a pale hand of another vampire. Draken began to drain his life, replenishing his own. It appeared to work, as the vampire eventually got to his feat as the Nord collapsed to his own.

“Stop! We can find a way to settle this peacefully!” The Nord pleaded, erasing all sense of bravery he previously flaunted.

And her brother’s comportment-- the display of his limbs, the savage working of his jaw, the yellow and red fire in his eyes -- bespoke anything but peace.

Nearly dead from the drainage of life, he looked onto Draken. His bulging azure eyes appeared to implore the vampire for mercy. Raven saw that her brother did nothing to impede the flow of blood or offer any aid. Draken pressed forth even more, consuming whatever life made up the Nord until the man dropped to his knees, too weak to fight. Drained into submission. Draken, aware that there were no more threats, grabbed the man by the neck as he opened his jaws wide. Without hesitation, Draken fed. The rhythm of his heartbeat grew rapid and breaths started to stutter from the man’s lungs. In an instant he was dead.

****

And Draken found himself weaker. Color returned to his pallid skin, lips blushing with red and a white pink coloring his entire body. His eyes were now less vampiric and a bit human like. He looked at Raven, who was more supple, but yet reeked with the stench of various disgusting odors.

As much blood as she seemed to imbibe, most would imagine she was satisfied. But the manner in which she stared suggested otherwise. She staggered, as if drunk, but truly she was weakened by the insane amount of blood she drank, which led her to her weakened state. But her eyes were wide with hunger. She lunged at him, but stumbled over one of the dead corpses as she did. Draken, weakened a bit as he was, was still quick enough to grab her by the shoulders and then her head. His eyes poured deep into hers to try and make sense of how sane she was.

“Be still, Raven. Can you hear me?”

No response. Only a blank stare devoid of thought or emotion.

“Snap out of it!” he commanded, shaking her slightly.

“I…” she managed to whisper, eyes wide and searching about in bewilderment. “What…happened?!”

“It’s fine. It’s over. It is time to go back.”

She managed half of a smile. “Home…”

“Yes, Raven. Home.”

What a riveting (but gory) battle! Poor Raven, had Draken not been there to save her mind she may never have returned, the madness had taken over. I like that there is a bond between the siblings that I didn't feel before this kidnapping happened. Awesome Write !!

Fair dues...That's good stuff that is!...

All caught up...Bloody good story this...*Applauds*...

Loved the fight scenes...Loved the idea of Draken starving himself just so he was strong enough to save his sister...There's so many good ideas in here it's amazing... ...So much for the writers block eh?... ...

Brilliantly done, genuinely imrpressed with it all...And a nice turnaround for Draken, like you said at the start...

Absolutely Nice one!!... ...

*Applauds heartily*...

Oh, and this...



Yes she is!!...She is... ...

mALX: Ironically, if she had not intervened, he would probably have been dead as well. Thanks!

McBadgere: Thank you. And I do have many writer's block, but I just plow down through various things to get a sense of inspiration. And I think it's time for a turnaround in the story. There can be so much battle in the story that it gets pointless. Now, onto the path to politics and Mages.




“Our Order is quite extended, Alucardius. We would of known of any disturbances regarding any kills.”

Alucardius shifted uncomfortably in his seat, before assuming a distraught expression. Seated across from him in his office was Crassus, a Knight Protector of the Imperial Legion. The title suited him well, as he indeed stood a protector. Not of the Legion, however, but of vampires and their secret.

Once a pawn risen to rank, he was given the liberty and the duty of his superiors to supervise any murders that would relate to vampires. Standing above the afflicted commanders of his particular station, he cleaned any evidence relating to vampires and society in the Empire.

To this end, vampires are simply known as barbaric monsters of myth and legend, rather than deceitful creatures. Alucardius remembered when the Order took over Cyrodiil, ousting the other clans from within. The new vampires were insinuated themselves into palaces and the lives of nobles. They whispered honeyed words in the ears of the political architects who wrote the laws of the province. The Order then stood on the cobblestones, arguing bureaucratic principles and nature of individual liberties with the power and grace of Lordly speech. They shared wine with princes and kings and played board games with the men writing the tenets of the Cult of the Emperor Zero. They perceived who the new leaders of the mortal world were going to be, and simply aided them into becoming kings with other official titles.

The Legion, part of it, was influenced greatly by these covert overlords. A body drained of blood would be removed and taken away to be burned or buried. Rumors of vampires confirmed as crazed necromancers or twisted manics with a knack for morbid habits.

And his children? Mere wastrels running about, unseen and unknown. They disappoint me, he thought. But what overpowered his disappointment was his worry; Will they risk exposure? The consequences would be dire! And are they safe? Far from the clutches of necromancers and their vile experiments?

“They have been missing for days. It baffles me that they have not returned. This has not happened before.”

“Our eyes shall remain open. Until then, you play your part, Alucardius.”

"What would you have of me, Crassus?”

"Everything, of course." Crassus chuckled with amusement. "There was a time when I wondered if you would ever discard that independent nature of yours. I mean, you were born to one of the wealthiest families in Cyrodiil, with powers and abilities far, far beyond than any amount of riches could ever hope to bestow. Your understanding is sparse; your will, inflexible. Yet the passing of your wife did not hinder you.”

Alucardius said, "I have always honored the Order and it’s members well.”

"That you have. And one day, I will see to it that you are counted amongst Us. Yet the Elders find past guilt impossible to excuse present glory. The havoc your bride caused was of great distress to Us. One cannot blame them. You do bear offspring under miraculous circumstances.”

"They were of a blessing."

"You see them as a curse, now? We were all young once, Alucardius. Untamable by the blood-rage and thirsty for power. Children shall be children."

Alucardius tried to smile, changing the subject. “And the daily occurrences?”

"The war in Morrowind has progresses well. Our plans are on schedule. The Ordinators and Buoyant Armigers have both seemed to undertake a simple task of destroying the clans of Morrowind. We have ruled out that they are no longer a threat to our power here in Cyrodiil. The last of them have been eradicated. Same cannot be said of the Whet-Fang or even the Montalion.”

“I see,” Alucardius nodded. “And the domestic affairs, how fares it?”

“We have dealt out the deaths. Our schemes, Our pawns. Nothing is of danger to the clan. And you Alucardius?”

“I am well. Save for this petty headache of missing offspring.”

"You are holding nothing back?" Crassus stared now.

"Nothing.”

"Excellent," Crassus said. "Soon, Alucardius, you will be greeted among the ranks of the Order. And we will soon establish ourselves wherever we desire. Our coffers stay stuffed, and by--”

“Social graces robust.” Alucardius raised a cup of blood, tilting his head slightly.

Crassus laughed, a harsh sound like the crying of a crow. Then, joining with the laugh was the wind, shrieking around the manor like as a tormented animal. Did someone leave the door open? Alucardius thought. I dismissed all my servants days ago!

"It is a fine thing when we can walk through history instead of simply observing it. Mortals on the other hand, they rot and they wither. We stay forever young basking in the blood.” Crassus added with yet another laughter.

Alucardius wanted to laugh as well, but couldn't quite manage it as he glimpsed something in the corner of his eye. Two dark figured. His eyes widened as he turned to the direction of the main hall.

Two figures in dark robes, black shadows. Pale skin, white and unblemished under their hooded cloak could be seen. The details growing much sharper as they both approached. From under hood cold lids of their eyes, serpent-cold and snake-wise, stared at him. One pulled back the hood, then the other. Alucardius’ frown simply deepened. You!

“The prodigal children return.” Crassus said as he rose from his chair, clapping his hands together from behind Alucardius in amusement.


****
Raven stood with tattered robes, but she stood visibly clean from blood and grime. She could detect the smell of the river’s water on herself that she used to wash her face. But her body was still infected with all manners of impurity.

“What has transpired?” Alucardius said with an obvious aggressive tone.

She ignored the man behind him, but gazed upon her father. Her hands were starting to get clammy. She would a million times have preferred him fighting her than this calm, surgical, cold voice. A duel would have been more appropriate. Perhaps even a word of worry. This seemed more to her as a dissection.

"I barely recall what has happened to me.”

He squinted his eyes. “Did you keep yourself from drinking blood?”

“I do not…“ She squared her shoulders. "Recall.”

“Go to your chambers. Give yourself a bath, for will have you stand presentable before me.”

The frigid burn of his words smacked her like a splash of blue fire. He wasn't just angry. He was infuriated. She sped past him and the guest, quickly running up the stairs and disappearing into the halls above.




“How did you manage to rescue your sister? We had our troopers search for days to no avail.” An Imperial garbed in an officer’s outfit said. Brown-haired and a bit pale, the man stood with an arrogance that was palpable from across the room. But there was much more to his overconfident aura, something beyond his cockiness. He was a vampire!

Draken did not looked confused, but merely curious. Was he a member of the secretive Order? He could tell one of his own, but a vampire of Cyrodiilic blood did not grant freedom for one to be in the fraternity. It was a smell the cold blood rushing through his veins. And he carried himself as a man of importance. His eyes were a red taint.

Without hesitation, Draken answered his question. He revealed details of how he used fear as his ally to track down the base by using a Dunmer bait, and thus discovering their location. He gave grim details of the violence he unleashed and the state in which he found Raven.

His father began to question more on the subject, though Draken was more fearful when the inquiries came from his mouth. Yet, for some reason, the presence of the man he now discovered as Crassus made him feel welcome. Perhaps, it was because of his proposal and the deceptive smile on his face that softened his father’s crude raging.

“I am amazed. Your prowess is of note, young man. If your father desires, you may speak to me in the Imperial City if you wish to procure a task for the Legion. Most of my men would require your efficiency and skill. And you hold something that they do not.”

Alucardius did not betray any emotion, but Draken read him like an open book. He was slightly surprised another vampire took interest in him. More so, in Draken’s skills in the arts of slaughtering lower beings. It all seemed to fit. As if Raven’s kidnapping was the will of the Dark Patron. As if it had led to a man of higher influence to recognize his worth.

Crassus dismissed himself to allow the parent to further chastise the son. He left the house and departed to the Imperial City to call off the search. The house was back to it’s former state, in a way.

“Wash yourself. You, your sister and I shall have a private talk. Matters of great importance.”

“Father…”

“Go!”

Alucardius had rebuked him. And with good reason. He was responsible for his younger sister and he allowed things to go from bad to worse. And he, Draken Decumus, vampire of the Cyrodiilic bloodline of vampires, had risked exposure by starvation. What a fool I was.

A bloody fight that turned out well, as both vampchildren somewhat unwittingly supported each other. You did a good job of scaring us with Draken’s broken back, then believably extricating from the dire implications. Some fine imagery you delivered there. I liked that idea that if drinking blood weakens a vampire, then drinking too much of it could have some seriously not good effects. Whew, at least they survived.

And the prodigal pair returns home. It is no surprise the Order would have well-placed Legion officers, and Crassus surely seems like a handy being to have.

Raven’s starvation enhancements were not of her choice, but certainly helped her escape. Draken’s ‘risk of exposure’ by starvation was a conscious choice – but one I have to admire him for. Well done!

Yes, baths all around!

Acadian:Thank you. And the addition of Crassus serves to further guide into the plot. I couldn't find any other reason. Though I believe he won't be a regular random character either.




There the two siblings stood, at the presence of the paternal figure. Physically, Raven’s prowess and abilities were better than most humans half her age. She was in great physical shape, her senses sharp, health not yet diminished. And youth ever flowering. Only in this situation, standing before her father, did she feel like a human. Even in his most positive attitude, the figure of Alucardius seemed to strip her youth away, giving her bones a sense of brittleness, her joints to complain in tension.

“You seemed to have taken an interest in the Arcane University. I’ve been told quite a lot of you.”

No response from her as she kept her head down.

"You were ambushed soon after your meeting with the Arch-Mage.“ her father said.

How did he know of such thing? Raven refused to ask. Lord Alucardius knows. He always knew. He has connections.

"I was taken by surprise. My mind left unconscious by a blow struck.“ Raven admitted before justifying. "Draken was able to locate me as I plotted my escape.”

"Plotted!?" the regal vampire asked sharply. "You were in no position to plot an escape. You allowed yourself to give into your animalistic urges and thus succumbed to it’s power. You were nothing more than a confused beast wishing to feast on a banquet of sanguine.”

"And what would prompt such ridiculous theory?” Raven said with a sharp hiss. The venom in her voice brought out the worst expression on her father’s countenance.

"Your brother’s tongue did not bear lies.”

"I understand," Raven said, annoyed. How casually we betray our own, she thought. What else did Draken reveal? She frowned angrily, eyes staring upon the ground.

The youthful father tilted his head slightly. "Having an attack of conscience, my daughter?”

"No, father.”

She met his studious gaze with her own. “You seek a place among the mages in the University, correct. Let me remind you that it is possible for some to detect the undead using their magic.”

“Why would they? They are not necromancers.”

“No, but Necromancy is frowned upon and feared by those who do not understand it. I have no doubt there are aspirant necromancers within the Mages Guild, but there are no vampires. Caution motivates the Mages to keep an eye out for anything relating to necromancy. To the living dead.”

“I am more than capable of looking after myself.”

Alucardius pulled his head back and laughed heartily. “Oh yes, just as you took care of yourself these past days?”

“I killed my enemies. I made them bend to my will.”

She tried to talk her way out. To make herself appear capable in his eyes. But she could find nothing to gloat.

He nodded slightly “There is a whole strata of politics and mages in which you do not understand. But I know your mind is sharp enough to cut through the endless barriers. Give me two days to make preparations.”

Raven saw that he wanted to speak to Draken alone, so she offered no resistance. I hope that dimwit does not plan to embarrass me any further, she thought as she walked off to her room. I must make the nescessary preparations.

****

Alucardius took a seat behind his desk, offering Draken a chair besides it. His son did as he was told, sitting himself on the pointed seat. "I understand you left because you felt responsible for her. You tried to rectify the situation."

He breathed deeply. “The way you make it sound, Draken, it would appear that none survived to spread the word of the slaughter you unleashed.”

“There were no survivors. Each fell to the end of my blade.”

“Ah,” Alucardius said, as his hands came together to form a triangle. “And not a single foe proved to be of any challenge?”

“None.”

“Not the portly human male you told me about?”

“His sword arm was removed prior to a fatal blow to his heart.” Draken said proudly.

“Excellent. And the Imperial woman who stood guard?”

“My blade halved the woman as she attempted to sever my head from my shoulders.”

“And the brutish Nord?" Alucardius asked again.

“Decapitated.”

Alucardius paused for a moment. “Not even a challenger, then?”

“No…”

Alucardius detected a hint of hesitation. “No, what, my son?”

“Not a single challenge.”

Touching his own chin, Alucarius stared at Draken in a similar fashion he did Raven.

“The holes in the back of your tattered robe bear testament to a wound left barely healed. Someone must of have been responsible, unless you have done it yourself? Which I find unlikely.”

Draken clenched his hands. “Pain is insignificant at the foot of power.”

“That was not my inquiry Draken. I did not ask if pain was inflicted. I asked who was responsible.”

“A Nordic warrior with a warhammer,” Draken said calmly.

Alucardius faked his surprise. “So he was something of a challenge, then. Even for a human.”

“He was nothing compared to my Dark Gift!” Draken suddenly called out.

Alucardius regarded him with a mild frown. “Did you tell the man as much, my son? Answer truthfully.”

“He eventually came to the conclusion.”

“He identified you as a vampire. Did he assume, then, that you were a vampire of this family? A vampire eager to save a young woman in captivity, held for ransom? A sibling of the same blood.”

Draken stared at the floor. “I…”

The father stood from his seat and approached the son, his face contorted in anger. “And if by some degree the Nord or any of those pathetic creatures had managed to escape your wrath, or even defeat a vampire in his prime that is Draken Decumus Vladmirius, what repercussions would we face, then?”

“I ask for forgiveness, father.”

“Perhaps you’re not worthy of procuring your own destiny, after all. The moment you leave yourself to become distracted, a base thug had delivered a fatal blow.”

Draken did not say a word.

“I hope you gave him your gratitude before you ended his life.“ Alucardius continued. “Because he has taught you a valuable lesson not to be forgotten. When you face someone with the will to live, you must remain focused. Even when you have convinced yourself that your enemy is incapacitated. It would not be the right moment to bask in the glory of your victory, You must deliver a fatal strike and be over with it. Reserve your self-praise for later. Or you shall suffer far more than a mere fracture to the spine.”

“I will remember, father.” Draken said before a long moment of silence.

The silence was broken. “When Raven begins her path in the Arcane University, you shall remain here to improve your martial prowess until you are ready to pursue a career in the Imperial Legion. I suspect Crassus might want you to deal with the rumors of vampires attempting to cross the border. ”

Draken looked up in alarm. Mouth nearly gaped open. Was he glad he was going to finally begin his path to power? Or upset he would have to wait awhile longer? Alucardius did not care.

“Train. Meditate. And study until I deem you ready. Then if you are ready, you will join Raven in the Imperial City. The vampires there shall guide you properly.”

“Father, I…”

Alucardius held up his hand. “Silence! You executed the task and saved your sister. You have destroyed all the opponents and left no trace. I am pleased with the result. Now learn from your mistake and make sure it does not repeat itself. It would seem your lust for blood has finally paid off. Both for you and your sister.”

Draken rose slowly, bowed his head, and left the office. Watching his son leave, Alucardius examined Draken’s unease. Might he have succumbed to an urge to reveal his true nature and gloat? Was Draken compelled to come out from behind his masquerade? Or was Draken’s starvation nothing more than a symptom of an impatient power-hungry youth who would demand complete disclosure for power? Whatever the reason was, Alucardius knew something had to be done.

He couldn't ignore Crassus' interest in Draken. It would be a step further to greater power. If my wife hadn't caused all that trouble...I would of been in the Order already. My children better prove themselves now.

One easily picks up the anger, protectiveness, concern and even pride of father toward recalcitrant children here. Nicely done.

So, Raven will be maged and Draken Legioned it seems. Different paths that somehow seem appropriate.

Daddy putting his foot down, lol. Alucardius's questioning of Draken sounded more like he knew something and was trying to catch him out in a lie, lol. The third degree. Great Write !!!

Acadian: Yes, it would seem. Though Draken will have some mage quality to him also.

mALX: Hehe, who knows? Huh. There are plots formulating.

OOC: After this, I will time skip. Hopefully, it won't be too confusing, since I will do my best to explain it in the tale. This is just a short chapter. Still meaningful I hope. Draken's newer chapters will be more flashback oriented, giving some insight on his childhood and hopefully answering a few minor questions about his mother.



From her history books on politics and leaders, she came to the conclusion that power corrupted the feeble mind. She understood that great men and women often done things beyond their own caliber for the sake of power. This included betraying those they loved and murdering their closest friends and allies. Power corrupts, Raven thought. But only if one allows it. Like mortal men and women, the vampires of the Order were said to have fallen in the same path, at least what her father told her. As he would bide his time and wait until their power struggles dissipated, he would move forth his hand. And in doing so, she would move hers.

The goals of the Order were to reacquisition of vampire influence. But while most vampires since the Third Era had in their own manner helped destroy the other clans, their selfishness led to their weakness and incompetence. Remaining a secret and manipulating thousand, and yet each of them fell victim to individual foibles and stupidity, and so had caused a power struggle among each other.

In the seclusion of her room, surrounded by her books-- these items Raven could admit she loved. But there was something that threatened to summon her affections; her own vampirism. For the first time since that night, she could not only feel her vampirism as a growing force, but as a storm eager to release a barrage of destruction on anything that would stand in her way. A cleansing fire that would destroy everything decadent and corrupt, and pave the way for her ascension to the ranks of the Order. She closed yet another extensive volume on the Second Era, tossing it aside above the rest. She locked her fingers together and began to think.

The task before her was no doubt slow and daunting, yet it would be the groundwork of the Vladmirius rise. A Grand Plan! Slowly she would set in motion her plan with the key tools of Molag Bal: strife, dissention, corruption and domination. And such these seeds will spread and grow in the fertile land that would be ripe with fruits of power and glory! Unlimited power is what she craved, and she would have it!

There were of course, complications that required her immediate attention. First and foremost, the issue with the body of the daughter of Lentulus. What will become of Draken? And the corpse? How was Lentulus involved with her kidnapping? Raven came to the conclusion that he wasn’t. That he men were hungry for riches that they mindlessly tried to secure their own wealth.

She looked down on the small statuette of Clavicus Vile, once more praying to her Patron, wishing for his blessing. Although it would fall on deaf ears unless she summoned him personally, or so she imagined.

The young vampire walked across her chambers to grab the violin that was resting near her coffin. She sat on the edge, and began to play an intricate tune. Somber and dark, it started in a lower note which quickly rose higher and higher, only to suddenly drop once more permanently when a presence interrupted her; Draken. There he was, standing at the door. His expression the same as always, hostile.

She gently set the violin inside of her bed as she crossed her legs. She then set her eyes on her brother, only slightly smirking. “So, you at last get to work for the Legion. Or should I say...the Order and their covert operations?”

The Imperial brother shrugged slightly, moving closer into her dark chambers as he took a seat nearby her desk, moving the books away from the chair. He looked at her and exhaled. “How do you fare, even after all that happened?”

She carefully considered it, her eyes darting up to stare at the top of her eyelids. “I have been better. It was not exactly on my list of most exciting nights.”

There was a growing silence after her sentence. It seemed her brother was at loss for words, so she took the decision to question his presence. “Why are you here, anyways? You want my gratitude for you saving my life?”

He moved slightly on the chair. “You should be, I did save your life back there. If it weren’t for me, you would have been revealed as a vampire and the consequences could have been catastrophic.”

“Same for you. If I were not in my state, I would not have led myself to the path of blood, and thus save your life from being taken by a Nord.”

"You had me worried, for a moment." he admitted.

She chuckled. "How...cute? You haven't gone human on me, have you brother?"

"I feared father would kill me."

"He nearly did."

“Then we are even,” he mused. “Correct?”

She tilted her head slightly as she jumped off the edge of her coffin. “Hmm, not quite.”

He crossed his arms. “Not quite?”

“You still owe me. If it weren’t for me, Crassus would of never saw your worth, and thus never have even thought of recruiting you into the Legion.”

Draken pulled his head back and laughed. “Haha, you jest. As if you had planned the entire kidnapping scenario yourself. You are smart, Raven, but you are not a mastermind.”

Raven approached him slowly, then without stopping, she set her arms on the table where they both covered the entire map of Tamriel. “Someday I will be.”

The brother rose to his feet, mimicking his sister’s pose on the table. He made a great effort to suppress a yawn. As he saw her flip through the pages of a book above the map.

“Queen Potema,” she began. “At the age of fourteen, she married Mantiarco. Though her place in the field of politics was nothing compared to the higher ranking individuals. She was a mere pawn, yet she slowly rose to become a notorious figure responsible for many great feats.”

“That is it, then. You compare yourself to Potema? Must I remind you of her fate and her infamy.”

She shook her head. “No, Draken, I do not compare myself to Potema, not entirely. I will learn from her successes and her mistakes and do better in my own crusade.”

"Great are your powers, but you aren’t much of an idealist.”

"You think not?" Raven turned to consider her brother. "Surely all these books can prove otherwise? I already have a chance to enter the Arcane University and the Imperial Academy, it won't be long before I am at the steps of the senate itself.”

“For the mundane people, such aspirations would be considered possible.”

Raven’s lips somehow appeared thinner. "You enjoy mocking me.”

"I stand on a serious note. It’s too risky for us. We are young and we must feed thrice every week!”

“How in Oblivion do you think the vampires in their stations survive? We have ways to bend these nuisances to our advantage. The members of the Order hold a secret passage in the Imperial prison, where the captivates are taken deep into the catacombs to be fed on. You will always be provided for. As for myself, I can fare well when using the blood of others as an alchemical experiment which would serve to mask my taste for blood.”

“It does not matter, we still act as thralls for the Order itself. Why should we, of Cyrodiilic blood, suffer for the sins of our mother and others before her?”

“We do not. We bide our time, learn and listen. Remember, the greatest way to control an enemy is if they think they control us. All we need to do is abide by the tenets. And eventually…we will be part of the Order. Father would be proud and be admitted as a member.”

“Are you listening to yourself, Raven! You plan to formulate a plot beyond our realm of possibility.”

“We have no more to do here. Father dismissed the servants permanently, his dealings with Lentulus has gone to ashes and lastly, we still have our own problems to deal with. Not to mention, I go to the Arcane University in a few days, as you do the legion!”

“And of the body which we originally had planned to relocate. What happens to it?”

She raised a finger. “Ah, the true question. The predicament that started some of this mess to begin with. I came to the conclusion that we move to a safe place, but we keep it under our guidance.”

“How could a rotting corpse possible be of any advantage?”

It will serve it's purpose, more than you know, she thought.

****

Raven did not answer him. Instead, she grabbed a knife sitting on the side of the map atop of the table. She brought the tip of the blade to her finger. "Isn't it remarkable, how a heart can collapse an entire body when struck with but a single blow?"

I do not see the point, he thought to himself. What do you mean?

“This is where we must stand together, you and I. You see, I need to know that you will stand with me until the end, no matter the circumstances, no matter the tribulations. With our partnership, we truly can accomplish anything…you can have anything you desire.”

Draken held his breath in consideration. Not thinking much of it, he nodded simplistically. Where is she going with this? She returned a gesture and slide the tip of her finger with the knife, only to grab his hand and do it the same as he allowed her. As the cold blood poured from their fingers, Raven intertwined her bloody index to his own. Her red eyes gazed into his own. They were dark, soulless and unnerving. As if there was a hidden purpose behind them.

Draken felt something different, a knot form in the core of his stomach as if he was falling from a high place and suddenly collapsing into disarray. In the darkness of Raven’s chambers, he could see a slightly light on her expression. A sly grin crawling on the side of her face for a brief instant. Then, it vanished. Then, with one hand, she stabbed the map with the sharp blade, the tip of the weapon piercing the soft cloth of the fabric. The dagger stood poised high, it's tip stabbed upon The Imperial City, the center of Cyrodiil. The "Heart of the Empire".

“We are siblings,” Raven said at last in a seductive whisper. “Bound...by blood.”

*

I love it, they are right back to snarking at each other !!



Ooh, now what is Raven up to? Necromancy?




Powerful imagery there, he is making a deal with the devil now. No one will get the best of Raven, Draken just sold his soul.

LOVE this chapter !!! Awesome Write !!

*

Thanks mALX. Yes, the good old sibling semi-bickering. I wouldn't go as far as to say necromancy, but necromancers definetly will be involved, maybe not directly with the girl's body. But who knows?

I think I might end up making a new thread starting from the Mages Guild onward. There was something sorely lacking here that I just can't put my finger on it. Plus, it will have a recap of what transpired so far.

GAAAAH! Did I just get a sneak peak at a future plotline? WOOO HOOOO !!!

This is really, really bloody good, you know. In fact, scrap that; this is fantastic.

Your prose is fluid, your fight scenes exciting, edge-of-the-seat stuff, your descriptions evocative, you've got some wonderful imagery in here and the characters are just wonderful to read about. Draken, Raven and Alucardius (someone's a Castelvania fan, I see) are all incredibly well developed, fleshed out and complex individuals, and their motives are both clear and yet somewhat enigmatic at the same time, yet not in a way that I find frustratingly vague as can sometimes be the case. A perfect example of this would probably Raven's kidnapping and Draken's rescue attempt; as much as he seemed to justify it as a family thing, I couldn't shake the feeling that he might perhaps have been acting out of genuine concern for his sister and am left somewhat unsure of it in a good way (I get the feeling that not even Draken is sure about that one), even if they did return to their traditional backbiting straight afterwards.

In short, brilliant stuff, and definitely something I will be following. Very, very good work indeed.

mALX: You did! . But in all honesty, I might give this story a pause, since I need fresh new ideas on how to proceed. And besides, I am busy with a werewolf story I created. So, it's tough writing two stories at once.

Colonel Mustard: New readers! Woot! Thanks, I try. I attempt to spend quality time in each chapter, reading and rereading and editing and stuff like that. In regards to the elements which you spoke of, I plan to keep it that way, though not for very long at all. It's a tension between the two siblings I hope to elaborate more through flashbacks and the like.

Though will it be nescessary to make a new topic? I was planning to just edit the prologue part out(Raven in the senate chambers). That part was a rough draft. I'll replace it with a recap of what happened so far and a more fleshed out dramatis personae.

In the garden of his home, at the darkness of night, Draken sat alone. Cross-legged and impatient, he attempted to remember everything he had learned from his childhood to now. Everything that would help him succeed in the coming days. Raven is gone, already placed in the Arcane University. He is yet to go to the Legion, the only promise of that certainty is to prove himself worthy. But how? He closed his eyes and inhaled, then exhaled deeply. His memories unraveling the past:

****

The obedient fourteen year old Draken stood shaking in burning midday heat near the Gold Coast. Around him were glittering stones and rocks which burned brightly with the shine of the sun. Alucardius stood close by, well-fed and otherwise untouched by Magnus’ punishment.

Unlike young Draken, who was outfitted in a thin shirt and pants, the older Imperial was wearing only a velvet shirt and blouse, along with gold-trimmed shoes. From underneath a large tree, he watched as his son stood in the heat. From his pleasant position, he called out to Draken.

“It was beneath the light of the sun where I first became acquainted with my vampiric powers. After I was turned.” he said to him. “Our kind has always suffered from the sun, one way or another. It is ruthless and merciless, but I knew how to adapt beneath it‘s harsh rays, and even on my younger years I was able to withstand it when I was stranded in Hammerfell during the Redguard Rebellion on Stros M’Kai. But you are not here to learn of my past, Draken. You are here to learn of our weaknesses and how to overcome them.”

The young pale boy nodded, biting his teeth as his skin slowly burned and sizzled. It was non fatal at first, but with in the prolonging moments it could lead to an inevitable death.

“The division between immortal and mortal as done by the vampire and the mortal race has less to do with the distinction between living and dead, but more with predator and prey. Strong and weak.”

Alucardius froze his speech to stare at Draken. “Your blood is near boiling. Stay beyond your welcome, and you shall die. That is the thought that will run through your mind at the start. When vampirism has progressed in your body, when it shall evolve and grow, it will be in your mind. You will imagine: I shall perish. I will die; Vampirism shall kill me. And it is true, you will indeed die, but only to be reborn. You must delve deeper within into yourself the certainty what it means to be displaced; you must experience such a thing in the marrow of your bones and in your veins, because it shall never be thus. Sit down, and cross your legs.”

Draken clenched his fists, nodding. He sat down in a meditative position, gritting his teeth even more as the sun seemed to grow higher in the sky.

Alucardius chuckled briefly. “Perhaps you compare me to a teacher of philosophy or an Ancestor Moth. But do not mistake this for a lecture. This a preparation for the future centuries, my boy. The adopting of fear and courage; anger and joy. Of being empowered yet humbled. Of being part of a much greater picture.”

A serpentine expression appeared on his wan countenance as he approached the seated child.

“Now tell me once more, my son. Of your nightmares and your tremendous acts in reality.”

Draken allowed his memories to unravel as a sheet of scrolls within his head, and he relived his crimes of slaying animals and the dreams--the events, as he had finally came to realize. Horrifying images of his mother and father sprawled about in a barn. The crushed skulls of deer and rabbits he had killed in his life for nutrition. In Vaermina’s realm of imagination, his hands clenched around his sister‘s--but not in reality, only in his mind and dreams, suffocating her with his thoughts. The lifeless creatures he drained for a test of the past, dead here and there. In explaining and re-explaining of it he had at last gained a measure of strength. It was as if the defining finally arrived, a morphing force of power curled up inside him, as dark as space without stars, born of hate and fear, emotions he could draw upon for his strength. He stood his ground, cross-legged and less tense.

“Yes, well done.“ Alucardius remarked, after the recounted story and dreams had forced themselves between Draken’s pale and cracked lips. “I can see your strength, and glimpse your increasing power.”

He continued to praise Draken as the birds chirped and the coastal wind slightly blew. “We cannot have your life hindered with feelings of pity or regret. You were brought into existence to survive and lead. Therefore you must see everything, living and dead, as mere tools to elevate you. To ascend you into a higher place. This is our world, Draken, our reality. In this simple location, your power can be forged and harnessed.”

The young vampire licked his dry lips and acknowledged his father.

“Blessed with the Dark Gift, even a mere vampire can pass beyond the constraints of their unnatural existence to discover a form of profound power. But no vampire who hasn’t the guidance of Clavicus, who has risen above his or her power station, who controls and feeds on the population, can lay real claim to the essence of what it means to be vampire. Their belief and attempts to convince themselves that they are powerful beyond others of their kinds are nothing more than sad rationalizations. That is why We of Cyrodiil embrace the mortal guise from the beginning, focusing our efforts on the acquisition of power through manipulation and deceit. We hold no reservations. We make no excuses. The actions of the Order begin from the individual self and is aimed beyond. We stalk the night unseen as predators, rather than surrender our prey to the whims of the intelligent cattle.”

“I understand…” Draken managed to say in a dry, raspy voice.

Alucardius tilted his head as he adopted a near compassionate tone. “I once said as much to the one who first made me, when in fact I understood absolutely nothing. I merely wanted to put an end to the agony.”

The young one frowned angrily, knowing that his attempt to convince the more intelligent being was futile and would only prolong his suffering.

“From our survival in the sun and our ability to blend in the masses, the future of the vampire will fountain. Until such a time, however, you must strive; you must demonstrate to me your capabilities. You snatch the hatred, the fear and the anger you now feel and transform it into a conduit of power. The power to achieve, the power to surpass, the ability to forbid everything and anything from blocking your path. To ascend to the highest to the highest pinnacle of power, you must taste a baser form of it. One does not get to the top of the stairs in any other way but to start from the first steps. And that is important for you to learn.”

The young one seethed. “Is there a chance I will survive it all?”

Alucardius regarded his son with a long, piercing stare. “No.”

Not necessary at all, in fact it would be better (IMHO) to do what you are saying and edit the one you have now. It is too good to toss, and posting the same story to this point on a second thread may end up having readers not wanting to go over all that beginning again.


By the way - PLEASE DON'T throw away that Prologue !!!!!!!!!!!!!! GAAAAAAAH !!!! It traps the reader's imagination and gives insight into Raven that keeps our eyes on her as the story progresses !!! I beg you not to do away with that beginning to your story.

How much did I miss?

I think I'll just sum up my thoughts on all the updates. All three vamps (and the new one), show a mixture of affection, anger, pride etc. But above all is the everbubbling sea of ambition. Seemingly placid and under control, but threatening to swallow them just that one instant that they lose sight of the waves.

Ok, metaphors aside, I like the characterization. And Raven bounces back real quick. One moment she's all in despair, the next she's back to scheming world domination and making a pact with her brother. Or maybe she is introducing her mindcontrol to him.

And the flashback was awesome. Just the kind of thing you'd expect Alucardius to do. There are plenty of signs that he loves his children in a way, but he keeps telling himself they're just pawns for his...again...ambition.

She chuckled. "How...cute? You haven't gone human on me, have you brother?"
She’s baaaaaaack!

’A sly grin crawling on the side of her face for a brief instant. Then, it vanished.’
Very cool!

Wow, Raven’s sights are on the heart of the Empire itself – great imagery you used to show this.

’A serpentine expression appeared on his wan countenance as he approached the seated child.’
Yikes! And that sums up Alucardius.

The flashback to Grasshopper Draken sitting crosslegged in the sun being schooled by Master Po Alucardius was fantastic!

mALX: I'll do it for you! You've been a great friend! . I'll keep the prologue. And oh, I updated the first page. It now has a Dramatis Personae and a recap of the story so far. Enjoy.

Jack:Indeed. Too much ambition is not good. And there is a saying which is "Pride goeth before the fall". Glad you see it this way, too. Thanks once more, honestly characterization was never my forte at first, but thankfully I got a bit better.

Acadian: Thanks!! And yeah, pretty much the Empire is the target. Makes sense, since it is the largest power in Tamriel.

I absolutely love how you weave bits of familiar lore into your story, it comes across naturally and realistic - and accurate !! Great Job always in your story!

This chapter is amazing! Draken's memories of his making and the lessons of his father (not very fatherly father, lol) - This is a real insight into what went into making Draken who he is, real character background development here and so well done - this chapter gave chills, LOVED IT !!!!


The synopsis is AWESOME !! Great Job, I love it !!!


PS: Thank you so much for keeping the prologue in, it hooked me on your story from the start !!

Haha, thanks. I really like to abide by lore and follow it almost religiously. I don't mind creating a tale with actual ingame characters, yet I tend to keep my stories unrelated directly to main events or quests. I can take some inspiration from them, but I don't touch it. I don't know, it's just me.

Thanks again. I will admit I wanted to begin the story with them being children and then growing up. But it would be too big of a hassle to write up centuries worth of history

Gratitude!

I agree with not wanting too much delving into their growing years - the way you are doing it is absolutely perfect with the small flashback occasionally when appropos to the storyline. We've gotten to know the characters as adults first, then get to see glimpses of what shaped them to be who they are - much better !!!

The following weeks flew by rapidly as Raven plunged herself into her studies. To her astonishment,
she found out that her “inexperience” with the Arcane ways was an exception rather than the rule itself.
Various of the apprentices had trained for weeks or even many months until they were accepted into the Arcane University.

At the beginning, Raven considered all of it bothersome. She had just begun her studies and she was already falling behind. In such a competitive, sleepless environment she would be overwhelmed by her peers. But as she began to think it over, she came to the conclusion that she might not be as vulnerable as she first imagined.

She alone, of all the students at the University, had been able to make use of her destruction powers without any training at all. She came to learn that her vampirism increased various different abilities, including some aspects of the Arcane arts. She was excited to come to learn new spells. While she always used vampirism to augment her abilities with the sword or to improve her fancy swordplay, she was eager to expand her knowledge of the magical field.

When she wasn’t training from the master scholars, she was in the library studying magic. The Mages Guild had begun to gather and store valuable items in the University. Ancient parchments, scrolls and tomes. And unlike her, most of the students spent their time trying to equally learn from the master instructors while pleasing them.

Raven took to her studies of anything related to the school of destruction. She spent several hours every night with her eyes in the books. She considered most of these things fascinating. Particularly, the book dubbed The Art of War Magic by Zurin Arctus, another mortal in history Raven came to admire. Zurin was responsible for many great deeds, much like Potema herself did centuries later. The ownership of Numidium was one of these accomplishments. What she loved about him the most was the fact that he was able to destroy the Aldmeri Dominion and the Altmer, thus giving Tiber Septim a chance to conquer all of Tamriel. Raven, seeing his worth, made sure his works were part of her studies.

By day, she slept the hours away and occasionally awoke to partake what most assumed to be “Alchemical” studies. More or less, blood harvested from different sources. Specifically, some of the students whom share a dorm with her. During the night, she was able to feed off of her fellow peers when they were too exhausted to awaken. Or even drink their blood when they had offered it for her alchemical purposes. There were times, however, where she admitted to herself that she wanted to drain a person dry completely. But for reasons that were obvious, she did not.

Mystical and mysterious, magic was both mundane and important: an essential force binding the cosmos and comprising all spirits. That energy, that force, could be harnessed. It could be used and controlled. And with the instructions of the Mages, Raven was learning to make better use of it. She practiced her incantations and exercises each day, usually under the gaze of the scholars. After only after a few days, Raven learned to summon small balls of fire and manipulate the flames of lit candles.

Some of her learning came at the feet of the Altmer, Loromann and the other Masters: Lo‘len. Ashiir, Bovarth. At times, there were sessions at the University, but only few. The apprentices learned at their own pace, motivated by their desire for knowledge and wisdom.

Though she was a newcomer, Raven found it less than difficult to capture the attention of the seasoned Mages particularly, the Arch-Mage. Raven was well aware the more attention she received would birth jealousy and spite from the others, but she trained herself not to dwell on it. Soon, any further knowledge she received from the Mages would let her to make-up for the time loss, and to and excel past the students. And once she did she would not have to worry about their animosity. Even so, she was mindful to remain away from sight and not draw attention to herself.

The path is perilous, she told herself, and risk of discovery is ever more present. But even in her state of danger, there was something else going on within the walls of the Arcane University. From her time there, she suspected forbidden practices, dark studies and mysterious ways not known to most students. Being attuned to death, Raven was positive there was something else transpiring with some of the students. She couldn’t quite put her finger on who was responsible, but like her, it would surely “live” to spite Arkay. And it was a threat, both to her and the Mages.

And once again, the sense of ambition and greed that underlies the otherwise rather human (in a sense) nature of your characters bleeds through,* and I like that a lot. The meditation scene with Draken and Alucardius was perfect in showing the father shaping his two children the way he wants (though that's a risky game he's playing, considering that both Raven and Draken have ambitions of their own) and I'm getting quite the feeling that they're not going to stay as one happy family forever. And that I will enjoy watching it all come to a head.

And now we've also got something in the Mage's Guild bothering Raven. I suspect necromancy, but I could be wrong. I'll be waiting to see.


*I'm sorry. I really am.

My vision of Raven was that magic would come easy to her, to learn she struggled at first was eye-opening! Huge little detail there to grab me right at the beginning of the chapter, because if she did all that went before with no interest in magic - watch out Nirn !!!


I got a kick out of this:



"Where is Susie?" ROFL !!! Glad she held off !!

Ooh, love the foreshadowing at the end, I suspect necromancy !! Awesome Write !!

Hmm, I assume that the AU allows its students to pick their own roster, seeing as how Raven sticks to night-time activities.

As for the danger, I'm going with liches/necromancers. Maybe even the king of worms.

Ah, the VERY late reply. Sorry about that guys, but I came to a massive writer's block that I tried desperately to push through. I will try to continue this story while I can, though I'd doubt some may still be reading as it fell all the way down to the bottom page . But I'll try to explain it in the "The story so far" section.

Colonel: Ah, ambition ambition ambition. It can be chaotic and self-destructive, can't it? And you speak the truth, there is no way a family who abides by tenets of deceit and manipulation and power-games can remain stable or alive for too long.

mALX: Oh Raven is capable. While even a young vampire can be stronger than most undead, she's still nevertheless a newbie. And yeah, no squirming snacks at midnight. It's horrible how they always have to feed on sleeping people, is it not? I know for a fact temptation comes here and there. Thanks!

Jack:More like College, I always imagined. With specific classes and schedules, but it's up to the student to learn and succeed. I didn't want to dwell too much on the specifics of the university, but I think some things needed to be explained. I mean, it's over four centuries before Oblivion. So, some things are bound to change in those four hundred years. As for danger, your suspicion lies with Colonel on that matter.

This mod I use for vampires lets you put NPC's in a hypnotic state and feed on them standing up - but you still can't get caught by the Legion or it is a crime. I like that, it seems a bit more real to me than ALWAYS having to wait till others sleep to feed, although my vampire character does feed off the sleeping occasionally. (and she refuses to use cattle unless it is a dire emergency).

Funny you should mention this, since the next Skyrim DLC will give players the ability to feed on people when they are awake. There is a front feeding and back feeding animation, as well as a power/spell animation called "Mesmerize" which I can assume is just as the word's definition, which is hypnotize. I guess you get double the fun, considering you have a mod for Oblivion! Oh how I envy you, though I'm sure you heard me say that many times before.

This one is a front feeding animation, but I love it, love the ability to feed standing up and hypnotize NPC's that way - it does make it more real to me.

Oh, I can't wait for that DLC, I will def become a vampire in Skyrim then!

No surprise that magery comes easily to Raven. Clever and prudent to confine her blood lust to sips for now. And ominous hints of danger ahead?

Once more, as always, Draken sat alone in the dining room. He had just finished his latest studies, which has been done for weeks now. His fingers interlocked, pressed against his nose as he tried to remember the past. The days where he was guided by a loving mother, not scorned by an “understanding” father. He began to habitually circle his index finger around his ring-- a family heirloom. It reminded him of what he is. Heir to a bloodline.

The fireplace crackled and popped as wood was scorched from the outside, the heat slowly enveloping the interior as well. He felt as that piece of fire wood. His exterior self suffering more and more from the flames of law and order, then it slowly seeped into him, shackling him into the fateful inferno of self doubt. He gazed into nothingness, staring deeply as he tried to rouse events of the past into the present state. But as he engaged it, he heard something pulling him back. A voice, calling out to his name over and over. And suddenly, he snapped out of it. The corner of his eye darted to the side, where he felt a presence standing near him.

“Draken,” the voice said. “My son.”

Draken glanced over his shoulder to see his father standing there. Alucardius nodded, and Draken knew it was time to prove himself, to begin his final test.

****

In the dark chamber room, Alucardius stood behind the table, four scrolls discarded away on the ground. In the corners of the room where ancient symbols written on the floor, shapes, letters and pointed stars and inscriptions what Draken assumed was Daedric. He realized then and there that Alucardius had dabbled in the dark arts, as he was known to do. As soon as he entered the room, he saw with clarity four Daedric beings standing before him. His eyes widened, but he did not gasp at the sight.

What is this? The test? He asked himself, frightened at the sight of the restless beings. On cue, Alucardius spoke out.

“You have learned to wield the blade in deadly precision. You slaughtered a group of ill-trained mortals in your prime state. Now, you face the immortal beings that are not of this world. You will fight and defeat them in your weakest state. Should you destroy them, you will have proven yourself as a warrior.”

Alucardius pointed to Draken’s sword, ordering him to pick it up from the table. Draken obeyed and grabbed the weapon. He did not know what to think, but he knew survival came within. He remembered the words of his father many years ago: "You must demonstrate to me your capabilities. You snatch the hatred, the fear and the anger you now feel and transform it into a conduit of power.”

The Imperial vampire stood in the center of the training chamber as the four Daedra circled around him. His breathing was collected, his mind calm. He was perceptive of his body's reactions to the danger his enemies posed. Aware and strong.

Two of the Daedra -- a Dremora Caitiff and a Xivilai-- were within his line of sight. The other feminine couple-- a Golden Saint and a Flame Atronach -- weren’t, standing right behind him. It mattered little; through his vampiric awareness could predict their movements just as if he had eyes in the back of his skull.

Draken raised his own weapon, a sharp silver saber. Unless one was attuned with his sword, the weapon could be as deadly to the one that used it just as it was to the adversary. So he collected all that which he learned from using it from a younger age. The moment he cleared his throat, and the battle began.

The Dremora lunged him first, wielding a Daedric sword perfect for burning through flesh. The sharp tip flew toward Draken’s heart, nearly too quick for him see. Anger blossomed within Draken, the strength of it resonating in him like dark fire, aiding his years of training, guiding his actions and reactions. Time itself appeared to slow down, and stretch.

It would have been less difficult to try and decapitate the Dremora using a swing, as a perfect angle could result in a headless enemy. But where was the challenge in that? Draken spun toward the sharp edge, twisted around the exterior, and flicked his hand horizontally at the chest level of the Dremora. The tip of his blade slicing at the armor, but did little damage to no damage.

Draken dropped to his right knee, from straight behind him, the Xivilai’s harsh swing sped over his hair, barely missing his head. Without looking, guided by his vampirism, he pushed his blade backwards, skewering the approaching azure creature through the chest, piercing it's heart. Blood leaked and lubricated over his sword, seeping to his fingers.

Using the momentum of the attack, Draken dived over the tumbling Xivilai, avoiding being crushed by smoothly falling into a shoulder roll. He jumped to his feet by twirling the hilt of his sword, stepping down solidly into the fighting style called Goutfang. Even as he did performed the stance, part of him still kept a check on his body. The flame atronach unleashed two balls of fire charged as it spun around like a dancing inferno. Draken whirled away from the fiery projectiles as he sought to dispatch the Golden Saint. But he also had the Dremora to deal with.

The Caitiff attacked, heavy sword lashing out to gut him. Draken spun on his right foot and shot the other leg out in a strong side kick, forcing his boot upon into the Daedra’s armored chest, stopping it just barely. He lowered himself into a squat, using his sword as a scythe, cutting the Dremora at the knees. It screeched, but it wasn’t yet defeated. Draken twirled himself and his weapon, adopting a form known as the Whispering Fang. As he did, the Golden Saint joined in the fight, causing Draken to step away for a retreat to better recalculate his attacks.

Alucardius stood safely away, watching intently as everything happened.

Draken, fighting the beautiful golden Daedra, brought the tip if his sword against her exposed thighs, hard, using the muscles on his legs to support the attack as he forced himself from that squat to a stand. The force of his attack sliced through her leg from her crotch right through her hip, stopping at the armor. There was a agonizing cry as the Aureal fell to a single knee.

From the moment he heard an accelerating Dremora and a giant fireball being summoned, Draken yanked the sword away quickly from her flesh. He then slid it back toward her exposed neck, striking her trachea. The acrid scent of blood washed over Draken. What was, moments ago, a Daedric woman was now nothing. A mist vanishing back into the plane of Oblivion where she once was.

Two down, two to go.

The flame atronach moved to Draken’s right, unleashing an array of fire attacks that were sure to scorch a vampire‘s skin, even in his state. As he tried to avoid the fiery storm, he was overpowered by the Dremora. The Caitiff materialized behind him in one fell swoop, striking Draken with an overhand chop of the demonic blade. The youthful vampire barely was able to block the attack, resulting in both of his hands being severely cut.

His lips twitched as his weapons were flung away from his hands. The Dremora disarmed him! Rolling away from the fire and the dangerous Daedra, Draken threw himself into a strong defensive stance, his angle aimed at the Dremora at forty-five degrees, his left foot stuck at it. A creature such as a Daedra knew fear, but they mastered it; but Draken knew that fear itself was as potent a tool that could be made into a weapon, just as a sword or a spell.

A warrior’s essence within, or so he was taught, was fear and hatred. And so he dwelled on his circumstance and his failings. Anger boiled within him, seeking to hold him back rage, but he kept it at bay for the time being. Fear threatened to engulf him, the sheer thought of being reduced to ash and his soul eternally damned in perdition filled him with caution. He held an open palm, by his cheek, the other next to his hip. He then reversed the stance. Listening. Watching. Waiting.

The Dremora stole took another step, snarling and screeching. “Burst now, Blood-sack!”

He searched for an opening. In that knowledge, Draken granted the Dremora what it wanted for. He shot his left arm wide, further from his body, exposing his ribs to a thrust or a slash. And the Dremora smiled as he moved in, fast, very fast, to exploit the opening. He used his sword to pierce the flesh. Draken collapsed, hooking his foot around the back of the demon’s ankle, and pulled back as he simultaneously kicked hard at the Dremora’s thigh with the other boot at it raised its heavy weapon.

The Dremora fell backwards, incapable of maintaining his balance, hitting the floor. Draken sprung up, rolling to grab hold of his weapon again. The Dremora rose to his feet, but Draken sought to use the only method he could to defeat his opponent once and for all. He chopped downwards with his blade, relieving the Dremora of it's head. His gurgled mumble faded away, as did his physical form.

Three down, one left for banishment.

His bloodied hands nearly slipped away from the sword’s handle. But he held them tightly as he faced his final opponent. The fiery atronach, the entity which was the physical manifestation of the bane of his existence. The Imperial sprinted now, toward his twirling enemy, athletically zigzagging across the training chamber. His determination was set, as was his sword and his strength. Two fireballs were hurled by the dancing Daedra. Mid-leap, Draken was struck in the legs by one of the flames, while the top of his shoulder was also affected by the second.

The hot searing pain sizzled at his flesh, causing the Imperial to muffle a scream as he landed near his foe. The creature floated away, creating a trail of fire beneath her feet. But Draken, weakened by the fire, still managed to run through. His palm shoved the butt of the hilt of his blade forward, striking the creature on the right side of her breast. He sunk his weapon forward even more, feeling the flames shoot from her hands, licking their way towards the tip of the sword to him. Yet before the fire reached him, she perished.

Draken exhaled, relaxing himself by nodding. There was a few beads of perspiration on his forehead; elsewhere his skin was cold and dry. Perhaps two passing of sixty seconds had elapsed from start to conclusion. Draken frowned angrily. He sheathed his blade, sliding it onto his side. Then, his muscled start to warm up. No, his entire body! Before he could react or guess what happened to him, the flame Daedra exploded! Metal shards of fire expanded into a raging inferno that consumed the young man in an instant. The blast was strong enough to send Draken hurling next to a pillar, where he smacked against the side with a thud, falling to his face.

Whew! That was tense. Poor Draken was one busy vampire! Methinks he acquitted himself well though. Nice the way you portrayed him trying to control and exploit his own fear and anger. Then I gather the corpse of the flame atronach exploded? Given Draken’s vampiric weakness to fire, how devious to send him out of the flame into the, well, fire.

Powerful intro into this chapter! The first paragraph drives home the reason for the self-doubt Draken has struggled with since the beginning. Between his father and his sister, he is surrounded by images of what he knows he should be and so far can't compete with and prevail.

This line stood out to me in that paragraph - such a perfect detail to reflect his thoughts:




Very intense fighting, especially at the end - and a cliffhanger! I can almost hear his father putting it to him how he should have known something he didn't or how he could have improved this or that, lol.

I am loving this world-building you are doing with your vampire world! So glad you updated finally! Great Write!

Hey. Just started reading this one! Cool... I like vamp stories, an avid fan of Anne Rice I used to be in my 20's and 30's.

Pretty cool how there's some actual lore from Bethesda to base early portions of the story upon, too. I didn't know anything about how vamps formed their own 'faction' and organized until I started reading this one.

Acadian: That fire can be hot, can't it? Yeah, Draken is the one with the inner turmoil. I wanted to establish a bit of Elder Scrolls martial art forms and sword styles into this chapter, since he's more battle oriented. The prince-like knight with the heart of stone, thing.

mALX:Thanks. While Raven may steal the spotlight, there is some things I want to happen to Draken along the way. Explain his personal struggles and accomplishments that will intercross with Raven's along the way. Of course, the vampire world is not to be ignored. I am just sort of establishing what goes on with these characters in their youth before the larger picture is depicted. A bit of character development before their choices lead to greater paths that can influence the lives of thousands of people.

Lady Saga: Hey Lady, glad to see you around. I know you arrived much later after the chapters have been written, but you can always check out the "story so far" section for a recap. And yeah, vampires in the Elder Scrolls are like the others in some universes. They are seperated into different clans with different powers and abilities. I chose to write about the "Order" because, well, they're civilized. And they can talk to people while masquerading themselves as humans and mortals. And I guess because they're suppose to be the greatest clan in Cyrodiil

Really great idea to do it that way, especially since you build amazing (and wonderful) complexity into each of your characters. Bringing us through it with them is a journey that really couldn't be done well enough in flashbacks, I am loving this story!

Huh-uh. :no: I will not read the 'Cliff Notes'. I believe in reading stories in their entirety, so I'm gonna take in as many words as I can. Take pleasure in this: I will not "fast-travel" your story (or that of Buffy, or Teresa, or any longer stories here).

Very cool that it starts in the 2nd era. I don't know much about ES lore, and what I do read I tend to not digest unless I read it over and over. So it's cool to learn a bit, even if some of it is fictional.

It's also helpful that you've included a "cast of characters" at the beginning. I shall also do this eventually with some of my own, if the need arises.

Bookmark: P35

mALX: Thanks again! I try, I really do

Lady:It starts in the middle of the Third Era, and it will branch out from there. Without spoling much, the first arc of the story is self-discovery and rise to power. The second arc is more of a consolidation and more adventurious with some war-like elements in it. The third and final arc is more of a ending, sort of.

Good to see your a reader, then. Don't read too much, or your eyes will explode!

Yeah, you're right. The actual story begins in the 3rd era, but the first part (the prologue or whatever) is 2nd era. That's what I meant I guess, in my own clumsy way.

Don't worry about my eyes...I've been blessed with perfect vision. Good thing, too; otherwise I wouldn't be able to read the incredibly small text Bethesda decided to use in-game with Skyrim. Bethesda! not all of us have wide-screen TVs.

That combat was brilliant stuff, there; very intense, edge-of-the-seat stuff, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Not to mention that you can already tell he's going to get a dressing down from Alucardius for the stuff he did wrong (not taking the chance to take out that Dremora early on? Silly boy).

Not much else to say at the moment; excellent!

OOC:More writers block content. Just a brief morality check on Raven . And some magic skills. I do realize I updated it yesterday, but I guess I posted this now since I won't have internet tomorrow...or the day after..or maybe even after that.

Colonel Mustard: It was silly! He wanted to impress his pops by continuing the fight. His father might point out a thing or two, as he always does. But Draken's state of health might be of a concern





Raven stood with her hands spread out before her. She muttered the words and waved her hands slightly around the air ahead. She concentrated all of her power on the act. The tip of her palms began to heat up and slowly brighten, before she knew it a small orange flame was created. She held the tip of the shaky fire around her palm, using her other hand to manipulate the fire into a small burning ball. As she did it, however, the ball suddenly exploded, burning the tips of her fingers and the side of her left hand.

“Damn the gods!” Raven suddenly called out, flailing her hands about, attempting to shake off the pain.

Loromann, the Altmer scholar and teacher, had spotted a strong flaw in Raven’s technique. Now she was determined rectify it. Even if it meant sacrificing hours of sleep. She was now was relentless in her desire for perfection-not only in her destruction training, but in all of her studies as well.

“Conserving your power is a key to victory. Putting forth your strength to win a battle is no demonstration of skill. This is what we call tactics, the least form of the art of war magic.”

Raven slid her burnt fingers in her mouth, now trying to sooth it with the cold touch of her tongue. She recognized his sentence from a book she had read before. She was going to try once more, but Loromann had ended the possibility.

"That is enough.“ His voice called out. At that single decree all the apprentice had put an abrupt end to their actions and turned their attention to the Scholar. He was standing at the front of the assemblage, facing everyone.

Raven eyed him as he stepped down from the stairs that led to the main building. He was taller than the average High Elf, and he had a distinct curly hair that separated from the others.

"You may rest for a few minutes," he notified them. "We will commence our lessons shortly.”

Raven, as most of the students, took the time to rest. Rubbing her hands, she sought to appease the pain that threatened to consume the entire member.

She saw Maela walking out of the building in the distance. She called out her name, though she saw that Maela was avoiding her for some reason. Ever since I arrived, she would not even look at me, Raven wondered.

And so came Maela, walking toward her, dressed in a green robe of an apprentice. She smiled, but only vaguely, as if something was troubling her. Raven saw it necessary to find out more from this woman, she couldn’t help the feeling that there was something…odd about her. And that bothered her very much.

“The apprentice of the Arch-Mage graces me with her presence. I am humbled.” Raven teased with a smile on her face.

“I am but a learner, just as you are.” She said with a timid voice. Raven detected her attitude, and tried to act against it by patting the ground next to her.

“Please,” she began. “Sit with me.”

The girl took a seat next to Raven, eyes looking upon the burnt hand. “By the Nine, that happens a lot here. Not as often as it should, you just need more practice.”

Raven shrugged. “With time.”

There was a moment of silence which began to peeve Raven. She wanted to befriend Maela, more than before. A sister-like bond for the sake of information. “I wanted to talk to you for some time now. Why do you flee the sight of me?”

Maela bit her tongue. “I…felt embarrassed for what happened. I think I was partially responsible for letting harm come to you. I ran away instead of helping you.”

The Imperial touched her gently on the shoulder. “Strike guilt from your mind. It is fine. I am completely unharmed. Do not ever think yourself a coward.”

“Your brother did.” she said coldly. Raven saw the sudden surprise in her eyes, and she too had a similar expression.

“He attacked me after I searched for him.”

“Please, you must forgive my brother. He can be brash at times.” She cooed. But Maela was dwelling too much in the past, it seemed.

“His anger was understandable, though not his strength,” she confessed.

Damn the gods twice fold, she swore at Draken’s folly. “He is too caught up on potions of strength. It’s a sad addiction he has.”

Maela kept staring at Raven with a curious gaze. “Your intriguing.”

“How so?” Raven returned the exact expression.

“You are a night owl. I caught you prowling about the university in the late hours. You sleep the entire day, I fear you‘ve gone hermit way before appointed time. If only I could sleep for two hours I would be happy. But I got much to do.”

Like what exactly? Raven had to wonder.

“I use to read for hours at night back at my father’s house,” Raven explained. “When morning came, I fell asleep in my bed. I sort of developed a habit out of it, I‘m afraid.”

It was a clever enough lie. Four days in the university and most saw that indeed she loved to read. Though honestly, she used it as a guise for herself. From her time there, she only observed each and every student and apprentice, seeing their weaknesses and their strengths. Their relationships with the instructors and one another. Though there were a few that were as reclusive as she was, only training during the morning. This day, she made an exception to practice during the day for the sole reason to study them.

“Well, that explains it,” Maela said. “And your brother? You told to me that he was recruited by the Legion.”

“I hold no knowledge on what goes on with Draken. But he is well on his way to joining the Legion.”

She then heard sounds of movements around her and Maela; the light shuffling of robes as the other mages stopped at their break to begin their lessons. All of the apprentices sat in their benches to await the next teachings of magic.

Loromann clapped his hands, summoning the entire class to take s eat in the open. As the students settled in their seats, engaged in conversations with one another, he spoke out and the lesson began. But this was not the same lessons on the mysterious of the mundane world, or the planes of Oblivion, or any of the schools of magic. The topic of choice was morality and philosophy.

He asked them questions on what is good and what is evil. He even touched on necromancy. From her time there, she saw that the Mages Guild vilify necromancy. She herself hated necromancy and those who practiced it. While she had the power to raise the dead for a short amount of, the thought of her being controlled was nerve wrecking. Raven was bothered that the arcane teachings of the university strayed far into a concept such as this. I could have been learning something of value, not this morality nonsense, she complained. Turning to Maela, she whispered silently. “This is ridiculous. I am going back to the dorms, perhaps you would accompany for a study? Just between us.”

“Raven!” called out Loromann. “Would you care to explain to us what you know about what is good and what is evil?”

“No,” was a simple but honest reply. “I would not care. You informed us yesterday that we would be learning more about the school of destruction and how to conjure lightning.”

“She doesn’t know anything. She‘s just a new girl, not a scholar.” Called out a challenger. It was the annoying High Elf that her and Draken first came across the day of the kidnapping. Elmor was his name. Just as stupid as the smug grin on his golden face. Elmor thought himself above the students, as most Altmer did. But Raven was sure of her own superiority over his kind. While she was tempted to leave and seek rest, she was eager to give Elmor a piece of her mind.

She sighed impatiently, shooting a glance at Loromann. “There is no good or evil.”

Elmor giggled sarcastically. “A short answer for one who does not understand.”

“Elmor,” the teacher addressed him. “Show some respect.”

Raven folded her legs as she sat back. “Good is a concept forged by individuals who cannot act without regret. Evil is an ignorant label titled upon those who would harm the weak...by the weak themselves. A figment of one’s imagination to segregate those with the power to destroy and to change. They consider those with power to be abhorrent and detestable.”

“Please, Raven, elaborate.” Said an intrigued Loromann.

“Daedra for example; Molag Bal, Clavicus Vile, Mehrunes Dagon, Sheogorath. All those powerful entities are considered evil because of what they do. Yet they represent what they manifest. They are a force of fate, fundamentally different than those of Man. They represent change, evolution, domination, corruption.”

“You speak of Daedra. It is not the same.” Elmor continued.

“Yes,” Raven snapped. “It is. Petty concepts of good and evil are established by the moral codes of mortals, which falsely dictates what is right and what is wrong in this natural world. Fate and destiny holds no regards. Of course, In a way, the world of us mortals reflect that of the Princes. ”

Loromann made a sound of amusement. “Hmm. And you do not consider yourself among us mortals, Raven? Are you a god or a Daedra in disguise?” he teased. “Please, I am truly fascinated by your school of thought. Elaborate.”

“It is an illusion.” Raven continued. “An illusion, quite like equality. Equality is a myth fabricated to please the multitude of mentally impaired men, women and children. There always is, always was and always shall be a stronger, more powerful individual who stands out against another. There is weak people and strong people. Should you gaze upon a wild struggle between two creatures, predator and prey, you will find often that predators will kill and destroy the prey. The weak are always culled from the world, while the strong persevere."

Elmor released an exaggerated laugh, which caused Raven to attempt to roll her eyes. She was not eager to hear what he would say, for she did not care. “Animals, Raven. We are intellectual beings. We are far more evolved than primitive animals who only know how to kill, feed and survive.”

Raven stood up from her bench, irritated. Though she did not show it. Her exterior bespoke tranquility and peace. “Do you eat and drink, Elmor?”

He had a foolish smirk on his face, his eyebrows raising as he shrugged. “I do.”

Everyone shifted in their seats, some smiling in interest while some simply remained calm and collected.

“Why?” Raven asked.

“A stupid question. Because if I don’t I will die. I hardly see where this is--”

“Why do you kill?” She asked again.

“I do not kill.”

“If you were ambushed by a group of famished minotaurs or a tribe of goblins, and you had no way to flee. What would you do? Submit and die?”

“I would fight.” He answered, not amused.

“You would fight.” Raven repeated in a mocking tone. “And to ensure your survival, you would kill. And would you call that evil? Is seeking improvement for yourself something malevolent at all?”

“I would call--”

She interrupted him once more, looking at Loromman while holding her hands behind her back. “I could spend the entire day speaking on the subject, so I shall make this very brief. It is all subjective. Evil is a point of view. Just that. A perspective. I understand philosphy, Loromann. I've studied the various beliefs and ethics of different organizations, cultures and races. And what I believe is my final say on the matter. Now if you can excuse me, I must return to my studies on something that will be of benefit."

Without waiting for a response or another verbal debate, Raven excuse herself from the group to retreat to her dorm. She was both hungry and thirsty and did not have her fill of fresh blood. Perhaps the time lost without it resulted in her brief outburst, of course not everyone would think that.

Most young women would worry about their bodily needs and hygienic issues, but Raven was glad that she was free from the universal worries of female mortals. As she was in a sense, dead, her body was cold and dry. As most vampires, if she ever were to be slain she would be reduced to dust or ash. And as all vampires, she needed a daily dose of the sweet red nectar.

Oh who I wouldn’t kill for a single drop of infant blood! She craved the blood of a child or a newborn. Untainted by the world. But for now she would just have to enjoy and make due with what she could.

She retreated to the dorm room. The clock at the entrance pointed toward Six o’clock in the morning, right before sunrise. She was feeling particularly sleepy already. She walked up the stairs toward her dorms, opening the door and sliding into her room. The corner of the room was dark and without a mirror, which was far more soothing than sleeping underneath the rays of the sun.

Changing her clothes into something more comfortable, Raven removed her robes in exchange for something silkier. Standing shirtless in the dorm, she studied her own reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were already changing. Her pupils were pitch black, the irises of her eye were completely yellow, while the sclera was slightly red. It was very noticeable. Her skin was already beginning to grow more pale and her veins a bit more pronounced, as her teeth was slightly sharper.

Reaching into her personal alchemy chest, she retrieved a bottle of human blood. One of her personal belongings that she was allowed to bring back from her home. She opened the lid and drank down it’s contents. Due to it being unused, the blood was cold, and it tasted worse than it normally would. She drank the entire bottle, and it was not enough. She retreated one of the last two remaining bottles and emptied it of the nectar. As she drank it, she saw the paleness in her skin slowly assume color. It was not the same pinkish color as humans, but it was close enough. Her eyes also had been replaced with a golden taint, yet the hue of vampirism was still present.

Suddenly, the door opened. Raven, already dressed by then, whirled around to see who the intruder was. She frowned as the individual entered. It was Elmor. What in the name of Molag do you want?

He closed the door behind him, forcing it with his hands held behind his back. He kept his eyes on Raven. His expression was alert and studious.

“I desire sleep, Elmor. We can discuss philosophy later."

He did not respond right away. Instead, the Mer continued to watch her. Peeved and annoyed, Raven did the same, staring right back at him. The empty bottle of blood still in her hand.

“I know what you are.” Elmor finally spoke.

Uh oh, Raven may have messed up in speaking out, especially using the word 'mortals' as if she was not counted among them.

I found this fascinating:



Now that makes perfect sense to how the vampires drop ashes in the TES realm and why they need to feed! Awesome bit of world building there !!

Oh crap! What is Elmor going to do now? What a cliffhanger!

Awesome Write - as I have come to expect from you !!

Nice display of some of the nuts and bolts of learning magic.

Raven wants a friend – she claims for ‘information gathering’. I wonder how much of that is true.

Very smooth of you to allow Raven to display some chinks here. Namely that she could be taunted into saying too much and that she possesses a penchant for requiring the last word.

“I know what you are.” Elmor finally spoke.’
We know what Raven is capable of, so I wonder if Elmor just stated his own death warrant.

This was a great episode!

And Raven has gone and made a mistake; oh dear.

I must say, I enjoyed her little speech on the nature of evil there; it showed a lot of just how extensively Alucardius has been shaping her, and underlines her nature as a vampire, and a predator, very well. The fact that it seems to be what gave the game away as well was nice; good to see a character have flaws and failings, after all.

Of course, it might be that Elmor suspects something entirely different. Which would, I'll admit, be rather amusing.

mALX: Ah, you caught that. It was a bit of a mistake, on her part. Though she tried to make it up by saying "us" mortals. Yet, Raven did make a mistake. And it had to be elaborated sooner or later. We kill vampires in game and they drop dust, and in some cases, ashes. So maybe the more powerful they are, the more fiery their dust is? Like Hindaril.

Thanks! I never thought I would write more on Elmor after his brief appearance in "The Arcane University" chapter. But he serves purpose in the Mages Guild storyline. I hope it can tie up some loose ends, like the issue with Lentulus and his daughter's corpse. Alucardius and Draken and the Legion and also some vampire politics will also be in the mix. The outcome, I hope, will be shocking.

Acadian:A good character has to have flaws, right? That's what balances them out and makes for a believable character. Magic should come easy to a vampire. But I don't think Raven should just learn everything and not have a little trouble along the way. Though from the prologue we can see she is far more skilled in the use as time went by.

Who knows? Maybe she wants a hug. . I thought much about Maela and how I can do much with her in the story, and she and Raven will have some good times together! *Insert maniacal laugh here*. Elmor's relationship with Raven is of a surprise.

Colonel Mustard: Everyone makes mistakes . One of few that will come Raven's way. In regards to her speech about evil, I am glad you mentioned that. Raven's true personality and beliefs may come out to the public, and she will eventually learn that not everyone agrees that way. Especially in the world of Tamriel, vampires are not tolerated, let alone their ideologies and ways of life. In our modern time, a totalitarian and narcsissistic mindset is hugely frowned upon. Even in stories, we often cheer for the "good" protagonists and root for the downfall of the "evil" ones. With Raven, I want her to be a character who believes that what she does is beyond the limits of good or evil. She doesn't believe in such things because she was raised that way. Being a vampire, she considers humans as cattle, as most vamps do. For her, it is just the way of the universe that there are weak and strong.

She's more of an anti-hero rather than mustache twirling femme fatale. Of course, there always will be consequences with actions such as hers. She has made a mistake, as you said. She was thrown into the world where she has to learn to adapt. While she did read an study mortal nature, she doesn't have the edge that she had when she was living with Alucardius or Draken. It will take a bit of probing and study. Learning the strings before pulling them, if you will.

I hope I didn't reveal too much. And in regards to Elmor...well, whatever you think, man. Stay tuned!

Yeah, even referring to herself as "us mortals" is still a red flag, how many of us think in those terms? Now I'm worried for her, though.

Bold: WOO HOO !!!