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Post by Admin on Nov 10, 2014 9:26:10 GMT
« Thread started on: Jun 22nd, 2012, 7:24pm »
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((comp dated 8-22-2003))
((Most likely written by Bruce Tatem in Lemoore, CA in 2000))
In an age of renewal, I was born to mortal parents. Like so many others at the time, my family could not support another child, so I was sold.
The Man who bought me was a dark priest interested in acquiring a child for a sacrifice.
The ritual was a common practice at the time. Used to bring fortune, luck and prosperity to those willing to pay the price. It so happened that I was for a rather uncommon ritual. One to bring forth uncommon knowledge. I was to open the infernal eye for several moments, look through and return. Only an innocent could do this. Unfortunately, I would be forever damned thereafter.
As I returned to my body, I was aware of how weak my body was. It occurred to me that I was just a child. How could I know this? What has happened? As the questions flooded my mind, each was accompanied by an answer. Answers so profound and shocking that they brought forth more questions and misery.
I was awakened to consciousness by looking through the Infernal Eye. I retained a link to the knowledge of the eye, thus knowing the past, present, and future. All at once, and for all time.
“What is Your Name?” I hear the distant voice echo in my mind
This body is not mature enough or developed enough to allow a verbal reply. What is my name? * I know I have one, though I cannot recall from whom I received it?
<Chalis>, I send this thought to the mind of the distant voice.
The man starts visibly, shaken from having his mind touched in this manner.
“I seek the knowledge of future events, in regard to myself and those whose interest I support. Tell me what you know of what will be!”
I cannot begin to understand the flood of information coming to my mind. What will be is such a confusing thing to comprehend. It is not set, and only comes as impressions and seemings. Pieces of fact seep through and I begin to send…
<War ravages the land, and the usurpers shall be found.>
<You will betray all your secrets to me>
<Your life will end moments before this ritual does>
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Post by Admin on Nov 10, 2014 9:26:48 GMT
« Reply #1 on: Jun 22nd, 2012, 7:25pm »
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<Death will come to you at my hand and will>
At this thought the man became nervous. I “felt” him thinking of what to do next. Considering how he will manage to save himself from the death I foretold.
As the ritual comes to a close, the eye must be closed. The means to do this is to kill the innocent who was used to open it. Thus, my death was assured, and pending.
As a matter of fact, I saw myself dying… I knew the moment it would happen, and yet… I did not fear. I saw myself dying and there was continuation after… Strange! Birth, death, and more continuation. The cycle of life, and all the energies that tie and link them together are no longer a mystery to me. A child that must survive this encounter.
The dark figure approached, intent on completing the ritual, and ending my life. The knife clutched tightly in his dirty-callused hand. I See the knife raise over me, and begin its slow decent to my body.
I open my eyes and let out a cry. A cry of inhuman sound. A cry that tore through the fabric of the man’s mind and opened him to me completely. I realized that I was indeed the instrument of this mans demise.
After his corpse fell to the floor, I waited. Hearing nothing more, I closed my eyes to go to sleep.
Sleep is an odd thing to someone who remembers the future as if it has happened.
I lay there for what felt like days. Wasting away in my own filth. Unable to climb off the altar on which I was placed.
A few hours later, I remembered that I was supposed to cry at sunset. Which was still a few hours away.
I watched the sun traverse the last few inches from the horizon. As darkness began to fill the room, I began my wailing. Within five minutes, a young woman came to me.
She had been on her way home from picking fungus in the woods beyond this place.
She looked at the body on the floor, and at me. I did not stop my wailing. I preferred to be thought of as a helpless child. At least until my body matured enough to do what I required.
I went home with this young woman, who adopted me into her family. (Her younger brother, her, and myself.) She thought of me as her son, and after a time, I saw merit in being loved by this simple woman. She truly cared for me, and this was revealed to me when I looked at her death. She was to die defending my life.
I would protect her as much as possible, and for as long as possible. Just by acting as a child would. Being as normal a child as I could manage. Causing just enough mischief to be considered absolutely normal…
Upon the day of my twelfth summer, I knew the time had come. I could enjoy this simple life no longer. I went to town with my mother and uncle, just as they do every week. This day, I chose to help load the cart. As I walked across the street to acquire the items to put into the cart, a rather large coach came thundering down the road. I turned and watched it approach. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my Mother leap from the side of the road and push me from the path. Placing herself directly in the path of danger. I watched with distant vision as she was trampled beneath the hooves of the six white stallions.
The coach stopped further up the road. And the man in the coach walked back to assess the damages. His visage was familiar, and I knew that I must stay with him for a while.
“What have I done?” cried the lord with unusual compassion.
“Your driver has hit my mother.” I whispered quietly.
“I told him to hurry, but I did not mean to imply being reckless!” said the lord as he bent to examine the remains of my foster-mother.
“What are we to do, Sir?” I asked with mock pain in my voice.
“What do you mean?” asked the young Lord.
“My Uncle and I are now without means to support ourselves. Though we are able, we are without trade…”
The young lord listened carefully as I spoke.
« Last Edit: Apr 26th, 2014, 11:39am by Llewellynn »
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Post by Admin on Nov 10, 2014 9:27:34 GMT
« Reply #2 on: Jun 22nd, 2012, 7:32pm »
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“Will you take us on, Sir? Will you give us a trade that we can prosper for ourselves?
“You do not seek monetary compensation for the wrong I have done you?
“No, Sir… Money would be spent quickly, and we would be in the same situation as we are now. Only then, you would not be here for me to seek assistance from.”
“You are pretty smart for a young child. How old are you?”
“I am twelve summers this year, Sir”
“Will you give your best into whatever task I assign you?
“I will, Sir!”
“Grab your Uncle. Gather your belongings, and meet me at the Inn up the road. I shall be there until tomorrow morning. If you are not there, then I shall no longer bear responsibility for you. This is your one chance. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir!”
I gathered my things and began the walk to the Inn up the road. My Uncle would fend for himself. He was a crafty sort, with light fingers. The local thieves guild would recruit him in short order. The body would be removed and put in a pauper’s grave in a few short hours. Unmarked, and unlamented.
I entered the Inn with the clothes on my back, and a small pack of mementos of my youth. It was well after dark, and the whole place was alive with rowdy men and bawdy women. I found my Lords table, and stood quietly to the side of his chair.
He was in low conversation with an older gentleman. I cleared my throat lightly and waited to be acknowledged.
The older gentleman looked up first, and the Young Lord turned slightly and nodded.
“Well met, young man. Be seated and tell us your name.”
“My Name is Chalis, Sir.”
“What an uncommon name! What would you do, if you could learn a trade of your own?” asked the older man.
“I would not know which trade I would like, until I have learned them all. I would want to make an educated decision.”
The old man laughed and cuffed me hard on the shoulder. “You will learn ALL trades? My you are an ambitious young man!”
“Sir… I did not imply that I would become a master of any trade. I meant that I would know something of how the trade was done so that I might know if I would enjoy doing it!”
At this, the young lord’s laughter was twice as loud and he pounded his fist upon the table. Having heard his Mentor put in place by a mere child, he found it easier to make humor than to be truly offended.
“I will foster you out with my son, that you will learn how to be a gentleman’s Squire… After that, I will give you enough of a stipend that you may train in any trade you would wish. Agreed?”
I smiled at myself for the expert maneuvering, “Agreed, Sir!”
“Good, then… You may excuse us now, go and clean yourself as much as possible… Your Odor makes your company rather unpleasant.”
I fostered with Lord Byron’s Son on Lord MacLeastern’s Keep. It was not much as far as castles or keeps went, but it was quite busy. I learned animals first, attending the stables. I was moved after only a few weeks, into the kitchen. I mastered every task as though I was born into it. Within the first year, I was graduated to swordplay with the nobles. I was to be a set of moving pells that the nobles could practice on. I had bruises all over my body the first night. For a week, I watched and learned how to move. The weapon that I held was merely a token that I was not unarmed, the wooden practice sword would break should I attempt to parry or block. The second week, I acquired a metal practice blade and began training in earnest. I learned to block and parry, which greatly reduced the number of bruises that I acquired in the process. As I grew more proficient, I began offensive training as well. Giving the nobles quite a workout, and a fair number of bruises.
For five years, I learned all that was possible. Reading and Writing from the priest in the temple. Swordsmanship from the Sword master and Captain of the Guard. Mathematics from the financier. Art, literature, and courtly manners from the Lady of the Keep. Always reminded of my place, and that I was a servant, and not a noble.
When we had finished our five years at MacLeastern’s Keep, Devon and I wandered off. Planning to take our time and see some sights while journeying home.
We arrived at home to be greeted warmly. Everyone for miles around was there to welcome us back. Well, More Devon than myself, but there was a small gathering for me as well…
I played a crucial role in Devon’s Succession of his father.
After our twenty-second birthday, Lord Byron revealed to his son and I his secret… Terrible and terrific as it was. Lord Byron was NOT Devon’s father! He had acquired him, as I was acquired by the priest. Lord Byron was indeed not able to Sire children in that way, but was able to sire in another. As the secrets unfurled, I knew I was going to die soon. I would be a Child of Lord Byron, the Giour.
The time came. I acted as sure of what was happening as if I knew that tomorrow I would wake. I was not prepared for the pain! Brutal and agonizing, I died, and with it, fulfilling the ritual from so long ago, my foresight and knowledge of the future. I remembered what I once knew, and all the knowledge I searched out. Thus, I was not as ignorant as you might think, but I was no longer burdened with pre-destiny! I was free for the first time in my life!
I then grew in strength and knowledge as a Vampire does. Learning from Lord Byron as much as he could teach. My Power was greater than that of one newly Sired, but not nearly that of a fully mature Vampire.
After nearly a hundred years, Lord Byron began to make preparations to go into the Long Sleep. The Torpor that is self induced and lasts for a thousand years. His son helped select the place, and made preparations for his father. After it was confirmed that he was asleep, I was asked to go retain the services of a well renowned Mage to seal and secure the rooms he was in. I was given a sum of money and sent on my way. I should be no longer than three days.
I found the Mage with little difficulty, and he agreed to perform the service requested of him. He accompanied me back to the estate.
When I arrived at the estate, I immediately knew something was so very wrong! It did not FEEL right, nor did anything fit. The guards were not at their post, the gates were closed, but not locked.
I began to move quietly and searching for sign of where they might be. I found my answer in short order. The corpses of my friends and guards lay behind the wall, out of sight of the gate.
I opened myself up to the presence of others near me. Only the mage and I were here.
I quickly and quietly went to the tomb of Lord Byron. He lay on his chamber floor with his head a few feet away. There was no blood, and his body was badly torn and disfigured.
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Post by Admin on Nov 10, 2014 9:28:12 GMT
« Reply #3 on: Jun 22nd, 2012, 7:33pm »
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The mage quickly cast a spell and I watched as the whole scene reversed itself to my view. I watched the Vampires backing into the room, mending the body and placing chunks of flesh into place with their teeth.
I marked the face of every one, etched the faces in my mind. Some I knew, they would be first. There were more than a hundred involved in this assault and massacre. I would have them all.
I turned to the mage and thanked him for giving me the faces of those responsible. I asked him to help me avenge the death of my Lord.
He hung his head and shook it slightly. “I cannot help you. I have other obligations.”
I lead him into the clan vault and asked again. “Help me, and this is yours… I have no need of it. I have need of your services, and for Vengeance. Grant me this, Please”
The Mage held his eyes wide at the sight of more money than he would ever earn in his lifetime.
“I am yours for the duration! However long it takes, I will be by your side!”
“Thank you!”
I wept for a moment, and then began the grizzly task of preparing the corpses.
Lord Byron’s remains were placed upon his cask, and covered in silk. Devon’s remains were set upon the altar under the mansion. All others were carried outside and lined the eastern cliffs. I could not watch as the sun came up, but I know well what the result was.
My Clan was dead. I was an outcast, clanless by all standards. I was dead until Vengeance was complete.
The first few were easy. They were more my level of power, though a few years elder. I killed them and their minions with the assistance of a few spells well crafted by the mage.
After that, I needed to wait, and watch for moments of opportunity. I stalked each one until I was granted the opportunity. I drank deeply until I tasted the fluting blood. Every drop, save the drop of death. I gained knowledge, power, strength, cunning, and speed. I used everything I gained in the hunt!
I got to know my Mage friend better, and convinced him of the need to protect myself against magic. He began teaching me, though, he explained, I could not affect most magic unless or until I was awakened. He was surprised at my understanding of magics and some of the elaborate applications.
I was able to do minor magics that were closely tied to my disciplines, and some mind magics that dealt with willpower. This gave me the edge in confrontations with some of the more elder mages.
In the end, it was surprise, and luck that saw me through. My vengeance complete, I began to consider what to do next.
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Post by Admin on Nov 10, 2014 9:28:49 GMT
« Reply #4 on: Jun 22nd, 2012, 7:34pm »
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It was then that I heard of Devon’s Lover! A young woman named Alexandra. She, too, had survived that slaughter. Who better to rebuild our clan than one whose heart was untainted with the deeds I have done.
The Mage has convinced me that it was possible to awaken from the state of death. It was painful, and there was a chance that I might not live. I would now take it. The deaths of so many… The blood upon my lips… The darkness on my soul. It is time to seek the end.
As instructed, I gorged myself on fresh blood. Elaborate markings covered my body. A single stroke with a stake ended my life as a vampire. The runes held my spirit in my body. The spell was cast, and the stake slowly removed.
A single thud rang in my ears. Then another! And another! A pattern began to establish, and a heartbeat filled my chest. Warmth! After so very long, warm blood flowed through my veins.
My mind reeled with the new sensations and feelings. I had regained semblance of life, humanity, and had been awakened all at one time. Though my awakening was akin to the magics of a Mage, I myself am not of them. Nor am I mortal.
My magic, as I have learned, has an intimate tie to time and death. Which makes me a superb healer. Though the scope of my powers is broad, these two areas have proven to be without limit. I find myself anchored in a place between life and death. In a bubble of time, that is not time. I cannot die, yet I cannot live. Not truly…
I began to travel and explore this realm of which I seem to be a part. It is boundless, and tied to other planes closely. Death touches everything, eventually. Thus I am able to travel quickly, without interference or detection.
My Mage friend has since, died. Time was kind to him, but not forgiving. All I have left in this world is one tie, to young Alexandra.
I have watched over her from time to time, but tried not to interfere too much. She is a healer of some renown. I have worked easily with her, and augmented her power with my own. However, I can do what she cannot. I can heal the Arcane. I have been able to mend, heal, and repair Runes of power, Personal Glyphs, and Symbols. Only those that are part of a person I am able to affect. I do not extend my power to items or property. I find that it is a waste of time and valuable energies.
The History between Alexandra and I goes back a long time. Though she does not know much about me. I have hidden well, from her, things that she does not need to know. I grant you, she is curious, and has managed to gain some knowledge by intense query. She does not know my true form, nature, or being. It is my wish that she never learn these things.
« Last Edit: Apr 26th, 2014, 11:40am by Llewellynn »
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