The Plot: A thief (my character) has secured a spell that will bind a vampire's (your character) will to her own. She has a task that needs doing, and needs a vampire to assist. The trouble so far has been finding one willing to do so. This binding spell just might do the trick, if she can manage to find a vampire unable to resist it.
The Bond: A spell designed to force a vampire to comply with any command a human gives. The bond must be consensual to work properly — the vampire cannot be forced into making the bond. The bond, if forced, will be less effective and will wear off quickly. To complete the bond, the human and vampire must exchange the proper words, and a tribute of their own blood.
The Task: The thief has... lost something of great value. The details of what was lost and what must be done to get it back are hidden. For now.
The Vampire: I'm looking for a good match. I'd like someone who knows how to write well (we all make minor errors, I'll overlook yours if you overlook mine), and can move along a story in a compelling way. The vampire can be M or F, but for the love of god, they cannot sparkle. Make your character dangerous, reluctant, and interesting.
The story so far...
The small hunter’s shack tucked away in the woods outside of Grimbly (a small milling town) didn’t look like much at first glance. It looked like any other small shack set up by a hunter, the perfect spot to perch and wait for game, or to spend a night in from the cold while out for days on end on the lookout for deer, bears, and the occasional wildcat. But this little, nondescript hut wasn’t a hunter’s shack at all, but a Hunter’s transport lodge.
A prison, really.
Loxley Crowfoot knew that there was a trapdoor somewhere inside the small hut, and underneath was a large, dark, damp cell. There were cold irons fastened to the walls, manacles where wrists were meant to be clamped, and just a bare smattering of hay on the floor. It wasn’t meant to be slept on. It was probably there to soak up any blood that happened to be spilled there. The lodge had been built as a waypoint, a “resting spot” for Hunters so they could travel more easily between the larger cities, without risking complications as a result of their cargo.
For months, Lox had watched this waypoint. For months, it had lain vacant. Until tonight. Tonight, she’d seen two Hunters exchanging patrol outside the hut. Every time they opened the front door, she could see candles burning on a table, and travel packs lying on the floor. Based on the way they exchanged banter and swaggered about their patrol rounds, Lox knew the cell beneath the lodge was occupied.
Now or never.
Lox crouched in the shadows, fingertips resting on the hilts of her twin blades strapped to her hips. One of the Hunters had just come outside, calling to the other that he needed to take a piss. The Hunter walking the perimeter of the lodge laughed and shook his head. “Might as well. My shift’s about over anyhow. Figure it’s your turn, and I’m starving.”
What perfect timing, Lox thought. There was no better time to catch a man off his guard than when he was either eating or pissing. Well, maybe one or two other things as well.
The Hunter in need of a piss grumbled about the early shift exchange, but ambled further into the woods, unlacing his breeches. Right in Lox’s direction. Another stroke of luck. Lox let him have a moment of peace before she leapt at him. The Hunter was a sizable fellow, but size meant little when it came to the element of surprise. Lox was small, light, and quick. In a moment, she’d latched onto him, one arm snaked about his throat, her other hand cupped tight around his mouth. In a few brief moments, the struggle was over, and the first Hunter lay unconscious in the grass at Lox’s feet. She hoped she’d given him enough time to piss. Either that or he’d brought an extra pair of trousers in his travel pack.
Loxley stood still in the night air, listening to the slowing calm of her heart, the chirping of night creatures, the rustle of wind through leaves. All calm. Quiet. Good. She brushed the palms of her leather gloved hands on her trousers, then made sure her cowl was still securely in place, obscuring her nose and mouth, her hood tucked up around her hair. Her dark outfit kept her almost invisible in shadow, and underneath the cowl and fitted light leather armor, nearly shapeless and indistinguishable. Only her sharp gray eyes stood out like twin bits of steel, much like the knives she carried.
She approached the door of the lodge quietly, placing a hand lightly on the knob before she twisted and pushed it in ever so carefully. It didn’t creak, only gave in silently to her touch. She slipped inside, leaving it open. The table stood against the back wall, and Lox saw the second Hunter hunched over it, digging through their pack of provisions. Hard bread, a hunk of cheese wrapped in a cloth, and some salted meat in waxed paper packets.
“Course he didn’t leave any wine. Bloody fool,” the Hunter was saying. Then he tensed, and looked up straight at Loxley. He must have heard the night sounds of outside, or felt the cool night air as it came in through the door. Immediately the Hunter’s hands went to the broadsword strapped to his back, and he lunged at Lox with a cry. She sidestepped him neatly, ducking under the ringing whirl of his blade just as she drove her fist into the back of his leg, just above the knee. His leg buckled under the weight of his own momentum and he toppled with a shout, landing hard on the wood floor. Lox darted towards him, a little packet already in hand, and she jammed it into the man’s mouth, then shoved his mouth shut. The Hunter grunted, trying to struggle to his feet, but the powder that had been encased inside the packet had already dispersed, and it was too late. He coughed twice, eyes rolling back in his head, then was still.
Lox waited a long moment, still crouched over the Hunter, then rose to her feet. Impressive, she thought. She hadn’t expected the sedative to work so quickly. She’d have to thank her supplier. Then her eyes scanned the rest of the hut. The only pieces of furniture aside from the table were an old rickety chair and a small bookcase. Lox had first visited this spot nearly a year ago. After picking the lock, she’d examined the few sparse contents of that bookcase. A seed of an idea had been planted that day. The contents of that bookcase was why she was here now. The reason why, when her eyes turned to the trapdoor in the corner, her pulse quickened, and sweat pricked at her brow.
Lox drew in a few easy breaths. You’re all right. You know what to do. Then she approached the trap door and hefted it open, ready to greet whatever creature was imprisoned inside.
Thanks for reading. If you're interested in this plot and applying, please send me an IC reply post over PM. You can also hit me with any questions/clarifications if you need to. I find the setting-up stage of an RP very boring, so in the interest of interest, I'm trying to bypass it by making the first post already available. What can I say, I'm lazy.
1. Post an appropriate amount. Just no one-liners, please. 2. Romance isn't a must, I really don't care. 3. Be over 18. Just makes me feel less weird. Y'know? 4. OOC is fun, I'll try to be nice. 5. We all have our own schedules and lives. If there's going to be more than a week between posts, let's tell each other. Communication is key, yeah?
