An Assassination Gone Horribly Wrong – That Is, Right

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Quill, Aug 18, 2012.

  1. [​IMG]

    Veloxa hunted the victim's shadow with a brittle concentration. Her focus was fraying at the edges the closer she got to the target. Waves of heat were emanating off the unsuspecting, idiot human as he meandered through crowded streets, but the throng of people around them dissipated to a blur as the vampire's senses honed in on that one distinctive smell that matched that one distinctive person – who happened to have angered one of Vel's clients. Her fingers began twitching impatiently as she fought to control the inherent instinct to leap forward and sink her teeth into that lovely warm throat at this very mom– She shook herself to keep from salivating and cast a surreptitious glance around her before grinning with twisted glee when she saw the unfortunate target bend into a side alley. Dark, narrow, abandoned.


    She leaned against the wall for just a few heartbeats to keep from seeming suspicious, and then carefully strolled around the corner…
    …right into the point of a sword.

    "You've been following me," the terrified man hissed, and the sword shook a little in his hand when he took a closer look and saw the slit pupils of her eyes and the unsheathed claws that tremored with anticipation.

    Veloxa did not speak, she simply fixated him with her gaze. Stupid, stupid boy. Slowly, lost in her cool grey stare, the sword lowered just a tad…

    In a burst of superhuman speed, she reached out towards him with one arm and he flailed, frantically trying to swipe at her with that silly metal stick that wasn't even proper silver (let alone anywhere near garlic) as she easily dodged his weak parries. With a decisive thrust she shot out one arm and her icy hand closed over his warm, sweating one that held the sword, the touch of death.

    "Drop your weapon," she said darkly. He just whimpered, and her grip tightened. The sickening sound of bones cracking were quickly followed by a shrill scream and the clatter of metal. She cursed to herself – she hadn't expected him to resist. Now he'd attracted attention. The deed would have to be done quickly – but she loved so taking her time to feed. She bit her lip. Her mother had been right. Rule number 1 of vampirehood – Do. Not. Play. With. Food.

    She kicked the sword away, out of reach of the wailing man clutching his wrist on the street, and pinned him down with her powerful knees and arms, before sinking her teeth into his jugular and drinking the warm blood deeply. It refreshed her immediately – she felt the energy of his lifeblood rushing up tingling through her body, rejuvenating her as nothing else could. She closed her eyes in a moment of bliss, then thrust herself off of the hapless victim, now but a sallow husk of what had once been human.

    She disappeared into the shadows of the main street, and shouts and screams echoed not far behind her. Another job well done, she thought fondly to herself. She couldn't wait to hunt down her last target – this one had an especially handsome reward, so lucrative that at first she had worried it was too good to be true. The target's name was Valandar Obrion, and he had apparently stolen something of enormous value from her client … but this was not her business. She didn't even really know her client, communication happened through a middle man, naturally. Important men disliked getting their hands dirty.

    Well, Vel thought to herself as she pulled a hood over her head to obscure her features for the long journey to the next location, they don't know what they're missing.

  2. Lake Trueman.jpg

    Appears to be in his twenties but he claims that he's much much more older than he appears to be. Or in his own words, don't judge a book by its cover

    Master Necromancer


    Lake is uninterested, perhaps that's an understatement but bored couldn't represent his feelings right now. He's a necromancer who unfortunately had seen so much deaths that it doesn't affect him any longer. He doesn't felt belong to neither the supernatural nor the human category.

    Yes, he'd started out as a human who was interested in the manipulation of life and death. What began as an interest evolves into an obsession when he was taken as an apprentice to an old necromancer who'd recognized his talent and trained him. That was six hundred years ago where the arts of necromancer invokes death penalty and unfortunately his old master was decapitated by the angry mobs.

    The master had sensed his unavoidable death and had done him good by sending him away for an errand, he had never knew that he would return to see the headless body of the one he'd held so dear to him. His eyes were filled with rage and for that moment he'd snapped.

    Dashing out of the hut that the two of them shares, Lake did not know where to start his search but he had guidance from the spirit world and besides, he could smell the scent of his master a distance away. It wasn't long before he had tracked the group down. There was twenty of them and they were all smiles, so proud of the deed they had accomplished.

    Rage took over Lake, he manipulated the environment which allows all of them to have different visions but they shares a common attribute, their deepest and darkest fears were been portrayed right in front of them. He watches with enjoyment as they started fighting among themselves under the influence of his abilities.

    Soon, one took out an axe and started swinging around. It was then when all hell broke lose and blood splattered everywhere. Taking advantage of the situation, he made his way in and ended their lives efficiently. Of course their lives won't be wasted, he's a necromancer so he'll show them that his revenge is slow and painful.

    With each death, he becomes stronger--that is one of the many abilities of one who practices such dark arts. There is a reason why necromancers are so feared. He closes his eyes as he felt the strength of them entering his body. Of course his revenge had not ended, he'd put on chains to their spirits. Forever, they will be his slaves.

    They pleaded for forgiveness , going down on their knees and begging for release. Lake's eyes were cold and stillness, he sneered at their words. "Should have think twice about doing what you'd did. Master was a kind man, never bringing trouble to anyone. His only mistake was that he'd trusted you guys to let you all in. I am not as forgiving as he is. You will serve me for eternity and I meant what I said."

    With that said, he turned his head around. The bodies behind him broke into ashes which was carried away by the wind that blew. He returned to his hut and buried the body behind the house before packing some stuff and leaving the place for good. Lake understood that it wouldn't be long before the worried family members come crashing in.

    Taking one last look at the place he'd grew fondness to, he sighed and tugged at the backpack before beginning his journey.

    That was from a long time ago, a past that he'd never forgotten despite the amount of time past. Wounds healed but they leave behind scars that only served as a reminder of what had happened.

    Nowadays he's working as a bounty hunter and that put his necromancy skills into good use since there are no rules that says that he'll have to bring his target in alive. Nobody will survive once he'd activated his skills. Nobody. There was a smirk on his face as he studied the wanted poster of a notorious mass murderer.

    "Mr Jinsok Ravedor, I'm afraid your luck had ended."


  3. Veloxa, being a vampire, had several handy attributes besides extraordinary speed and strength; she also was proud of her near-perfect photographic memory. In her line of work, it was practically a must, and the skill, inaccurate at first, had been honed through years of experience. So she was not taken aback when she saw the face of Valandar Obrion on a Wanted Poster with the title – WANTED: JINSOK RAVADOR – printed in bold letters across the top. Really nasty sorts tended to walk under many, many aliases, and she couldn't wait to find out the guy's real name. In her not-so-humble opinion, anyone who attempted to draw airs to himself with Valandar Obrion and the like probably had among the most pathetic, unthreatening name she could dream of.

    Not that she ever slept … but, just, hypothetically.

    She sighed. She'd been too lazy lately, people-watching and disappointingly slowly (for vampire standards) stalking that lucrative target. She was looking forward immensely to her couple month break after that business was dealt with to retreat into a dark, cool place as the heat of summer rolled over, but already the climbing temperatures made her uncomfortable and listening to the constant chatter of humans had filled her thoughts with their silly idioms. They always had a community to belong to – vampires were outcasts who had to find a way to fend for their own. She just wished someday she might meet somebody who had grown up hard, cold, resourceful and vengeful as she had, someone to relate to besides evil witches in fairytales who killed all kinds of really annoying people Vel would have been honored to do in herself.

    This was why, two uncharacteristically scorching hot spring days later, she felt a flood of relief when she spied her victim surreptitiously moving through a crowd through a shop window, not far from her own reflection, which she grimaced at. She hated the blonde look, but it was the only wig color they'd had on sale in the last crummy place she passed through where local officials were becoming too suspicious about her curious similarity to descriptions of a wandering female assassin vampire … so until tonight, when this man would be a hollow husk, she'd have to live with it. Another reason to look forward to the next dawn.

    Whether Valandar, Jinsok, Curian, Bill or Ivan, she really did not give a flying fork – there, again! Those accursed human colloquialisms – about him or his stupid treasure anymore, she just wanted to get the job done and reward herself with some much-needed refreshment before finding a nice, roomy, cool coffin to relax in. She accelerated with anticipation of the coming meal and crept ever closer to the target … when all of a sudden the hairs raised on the back of her neck.

    To freeze was to attract attention, so she forced herself to keep going, but her chest was thick with brittle fear. It wasn't possible – who would be watching her? She had just bought that wig, and it had been a pain to dye the eyebrows, too. She tried to convince herself it was just anxiety, but the feeling didn't let off and Veloxa knew to trust her senses better than any reason. She sent one last wistful look at the target – leaving him now might mean another week of searching, but he couldn't go far – and finally ducked into a side alley that took a sharp right turn out of sight of the main street and immediately clambered up a high wall to an ornate balcony, where she curled up among some of the bars and waited for–

    Her throat suddenly grew very dry and her hands clammy and, though she had not thought that possible, colder than usual. A figure with bright red hair dressed all in black turned into the alley, looked around, seemed to sniff the air … and then turned its face up to look up right. At. Her.

    And then a rush of dark energy whirled towards her and she was plunged into emptiness.

  4. ‘A vampire?’ Lake touches his chin and muttered under his breath. He had caught her stalking his target and decided to keep his cool for now. A vampire is so rare nowadays, they have became adapted to the human world so without trained eyes, one would not be able to spot one easily. Because of their rarity, they are a necromancer’s dream. He wondered if he should change his target to her instead.

    He chuckled softly as he stayed within the shadows, playing with his long strands of blond hair in his fingers. He enjoyed the silky texture of it against his cool skin, taking it close to his nose, he took a sniff and the scent of jasmine filled him. It was his master favorite flower and that was his way of honoring him.

    Returning his attention back to the vampire and his target, he sighed when he realized that she was been careless. Her sixth sense has warned her but she bluntly ignores it. Serves her right since that was her decision. Lake’s words came through when she was attacked by the man, he watches with intense eyes as she fell to the ground, unconscious he’d assumed.
    Stepping out of the darkness, he approaches his target and said, ‘I’ll have to have you step away from her, she’s my target…’ he paused before continuing, ‘but so are you.’ The man’s expression changes at his declaration and charges towards him. His dark aura swirls around his body and took the shape of a huge viper.

    ‘Is that all you can do?’ Lake asked, clearly unimpressed. With a wave of hand, a knight appeared from the ground and blocked the invading man with his sword. ‘Luke he’s all yours. Bring me his body when you’re done with it. Remember not to chop him up too finely. I need a full body this time.’

    Luke spoke no words but Lake understood that his words have sunk into his mind as a command. He took the woman and smirked. She does looked beautiful on a careful inspection, he wonders if she’s been taken or not.

    He brought her home to his castle that’s thirty miles east of where they were, the place was abandoned and rumors have said that it was haunted. As such, he was able to get it at such a low price. To a necromancer, having a haunted house is like a paradise. There are no noisy neighbors that are curious about you and you have all the privacy in the world. Also it would fit his image anyway.
    Alice, his maid appeared at the doorway and greeted his master. She might look normal but she’s actually a corpse that had been resurrected from the grave nearby. ‘Good evening Master Trueman. How are you and may I ask, who is she?’

    ‘I’m fine, Alice. Thanks for asking, she is a vampire. I’ve plans of adding her into my collection. Would you please place her in one of the guest rooms and make sure that she’ll not escape when she wakes up?’

    ‘As per to your wish, Sir. I’ll see to that.’ Alice bowed and took over Veloxa and excused herself.

    Lake wonders what she’ll do when she wakes up.

  5. She could feel silkiness around her and immediately panicked. Had she somehow fallen asleep? Vampires never sleep. And she was traveling, she wasn't staying at any hotels, and even if she was, vampires never slept! Her eyes opened, she suppressed a cry of pain at the sudden vicious headache she felt, and memories poured back to her dismay. She had not been vigilant enough. She had not followed the rules well enough. Even the wig had not been enough.

    Somehow, Veloxa del'Apatê had been caught.

    But by whom? To what end? She had assumed the people watching her were simple city officials, had hidden by the balcony waiting for a human to trundle into the alley, ready to pounce on from above and finish quickly. Instead it had been some kind of dark mage. How by the Blood did I not sense him nearby? she cursed herself. It simply did not make sense, and she was having trouble thinking because her head was pounding and she felt dizzy and sick, aftereffects of that nasty spell that'd sent her falling onto the hard cobblestone street. Certainly not enough to even bruise a vampire badly, but she could still feel the soreness in her back.

    She forced herself to stand up from the large bed – so, Fact #1, she was in the luxurious home of a not-vampire – and quickly made her way towards the window, which had been kindly curtained – Fact #2, rather than throw her into a prison cell someone had laid her in a bed in a spacious, comfortable room, and even had the courtesy to keep it cool and dark – and pulled back the fabric to gaze out at the surroundings of her new prison. She bit her lip angrily. Hers looked like the highest room in the whole darn building, and there were silver bars around the window, so there was no way that was going to be an exit. A thick forest surrounded what was obviously a huge castle and there was no town in sight. She was at least twenty miles away from the town she'd found her target in – she'd heard of a large forest at about that distance – but could be dozens more from her target, who knew how large the forest really was.

    This was a major complication. She might not escape this place with her life. She closed the curtains again – the bright light made her eyes hurt and the silver, even the sight of it through the glass, made her anxious – and sat back down on the bed to think.

    She concentrated on her list of Facts so far. A not-vampire, clearly wealthy, who was either a dark mage or employed dark mages, had sensed she was a vampire, captured her, and brought her to a fancy guest room in his castle many miles away. So either he (or she) had come to the town looking for her specifically, or he'd happened to be in the town when she was around and for some reason chosen to detain her.

    She sighed. Regular humans were easy to understand, but those that dabbled in the dark arts could be all kinds of strange. She had no idea what a rich mage was doing in a small town that didn't even appear on maps – probably there for dirty business, like her target and she herself. She sincerely doubted he'd come looking for her specifically, she kept her reputation too controlled for that. But the biggest hole in her story so far was why she hadn't been able to tell the dark mage was coming.

    She froze. Then she swallowed hard and her hands balled into fists, unconsciously unsheathed claws tearing the soft silk. There was only one conceivable reason – there had been a vitamancer nearby, a mage who controlled either life or death. An animancer – one who controlled death – had exactly the right kind of magic necessary to kill the undead, and could manipulate the weak-willed living with a word. If an animancer had gotten hold of her, she had a few hours to live, if that. Either he would kill her or make her his slave, to kill and labor for eternity at his whim. She quickly thought of the possible alternative, unwilling to face that kind of horror yet. Encountering an animancer was the risk all the undead took by becoming undead, but Veloxa was one of the more unfortunate who hadn't exactly had a choice. Vampire venom either killed the weak or infected the strong … and Vel had always been grateful at a chance for life, even a dark and cruel one.

    And now her free will was at stake.

    Or perhaps not, she insisted. Perhaps she was lucky. There was, technically, a fifty-fifty chance she'd been captured by a necromancer instead, one who controlled life. He had the power to raise the dead to life, and for this their souls were in his hands forever, and they were obligated to do his will, but they were already dead, their life not truly life, lacking feelings. Their slavery was nothing as painful and horrifying as that of the undead to an animancer. Yet she was not alive, nor dead, so a necromancer could have no magical power over her. The thought of such luck brought her hopes up. She still didn't know why a necromancer would imprison her, but at least then she'd stand a chance of negotiating.

    The doorknob clicked open and she sprang to her feet, all senses alert, terrified and hopeful all at once. If it really was an animancer, she would have one chance and one chance alone to get him – if he thought she was still asleep, a split second of shock was all she needed to dash in and kill…

    The door swung open.