The Queen, Marise Silana De Fiore
The Scion of the undead. An existence above the meager undead that shamble the halls, an existence that was brought about by the union of the violet witch and Ichor. Able to raise and command dead with a flick of her wrist, bring humans to their knees with a simple word and could even turn the sky a crimson red with her might. Almost fought the hundred paladins to a stalemate. Almost. In the end, she was indeed slain but not before the God of Silver and Light fell too. A hundred swords of silver made her tomb, the location only known to the hundred paladins in hopes the seal would hold for eternity.

Princess of Demonic Beasts, Kordelia Luetkemeyer
A vampire that was once a general in the Queens army. What she lacked for in strategic intelligence, she more than made up for in both numbers and sheer overwhelming power and affinity for conjuration and blood type magics. Kordelia was one of the first to perish, fighting on the frontlines with her ‘pets’ and was one of the greatest blows to the Queens army. Rather than fighting her themselves, the Paladins opted for a more dishonorable approach of assassination and ambush, denying her what she would have wanted herself - glorious death upon the battlefield.

Known for taking particular enjoyment in the heat of battle and her somewhat short stature. Also for being rather arrogant and demeaning even towards her fellow vampires. She was not actually a princess.

Fell Songsmith, Delicia Von Roquemore
A vampire who was given a simple job - infiltrate human cities and towns, and slowly, insidiously, convert them into either thralls or vampires while taking the rest to Iselota. She was uniquely suited towards the task, being both a powerful necromancer and skilled illusionist with powerful enthrallment abilities. Guised as a performer, orchestra maestro, she charmed and ensorcelled her audience via sound and music, making them eager to come back again and again until it was too late for them to ever return. Some victims, if she took a particular liking to them, would in turn be forced to join the Orchestra as both players and her personal guard of elite undead.

Known for hosting lavish, debauched parties and balls. Eventually though, the Paladins realized what was happening. The few other vampires in attendance when they stormed the theater she was playing at said she gave the greatest performance and show that night she was burned along with her thralls and undead.

Blight Lord Généreux Estimé
A Vampire that was a former holy man and healer for a now dead God of Health. After seeing disease and rampant death and his failures to save many, you could say something broke in his psyche. Turning to the dark arts he’d eventually embrace vampirism, seeing undeath as a cure-all. He just needs a little work to make sure everyone retains their sentience and free will…and such, he turned towards Insects and Necromancy, becoming a powerful Entomancer and Necromancer.

Known for his rather horrid experiments in turning humans into living hives for insects, modifying insects in order to serve more medicinal purposes as well as creating hybrid insect/human undead that seemed to retain some manner of sentience, and a particular penchant for believing that disease could lead one to enlightenment. Eventually he was hunted down and killed, the paladins using a cannon of silver and fire to completely turn his body to cinders.

Lord of the Blood-Sculpted Earth, Eisenhart Rubinstein
A skilled Terramancer and Blood mage. A frontline fighter in the Undead Wars in the Ophidiel era. Skillfully blended the stalwart earth with more fluid forms of blood magic to dominate the battlefield. Crushed foes with earthen constructs, favoring a brutal hammer made of bloody earth in melee combat or rending the earth asunder, dropping foes into pits of bloody spears and impaling them, creating in his words ‘A beautiful earthen forest of despair’

Was the last to fall during the final battle of the Undead wars. If he had been slain even a few minutes earlier, then there is no doubt the Assassin sent to muder the paladins god would not have succeeded in time to save their queen. Was known for his jovial, friendly personality, but also the sheer ruthlessness and somewhat two-faced nature. Liked to create earthen sculptures that incorporated the bodies of his foes.

Scarlet Phantasm, Anikushka Zavarzina
Unlike Delicia who would ply her illusion and charm abilities upon the general masses, Anikushka would ply his directly upon the battlefield. A skilled strategist that delighted in chaos in battle, turning foes against their friends and generally confusing and befuddling foes with his power and much enjoyed using blood magic at range and was quite skilled at long ranged assaults.

Was the second to last one killed during the war, finally having been cornered by the Paladins - but not before managing to take out their leader from the fight. Permanently. Was supposedly quite close with Kordelia and was apparently a prince of some northern country, though that was never quite verified.

Sanguine Regent, Iselota Elizabeth Claret
The bloody noble. A vampire with a particularly nasty job that she gladly carried out - the collection and imprisonment of humans worthy of being ‘cattle’. Individuals with high quality blood and strong of mind and body, perfect for distilling sweet tasting wines. Sort of like both the court torturer and both Vinter. Never directly fought upon the front lines, instead relying on an army of strong Thralls to handle matters while she stayed in her cushy mansion and had a network of thrall spies at her beck and call. If there was someone the Queen needed quietly taken out, she would see that it was done.

Known for being particularly cruel and feared by mortals, and ruling through such and crucifying foes outside her manor with bloody crosses. When the Hundred paladins came for her though, she strangely did not fight back once. Rumors say one of the paladins gave her a wreath of flowers on her tomb, but such a thing is heresy. Her crimson colored hair evoked fear for all.

Astrologist of Azure Crimson, Hesperia Demestre
A vampire with a particular affinity for the Crimson Star. A renowned astrologer and advisor for the Queen and a high ranking member of Ichor’s clergy that focused on more esoteric and strange aspects of worship. Known for being both distant towards humans and something of an unreasonable character. She was eventually hunted down by the Paladins, cornered in her Observatory where its said she was working to tear open the realms between the Roots and fully welcome Ichor into this realm. Whatever the result of that remains unknown, but the Paladins beheaded her and burned the Observatory to the ground.

She was known for being completely overdressed for every occasion and adorning herself in gems, believing they were originally fragments of stars and bore celestial power. Preferred being called ‘Hespy’ as she disliked her full name.

A once masterless and nameless thrall. She seems to have somehow lived since the world ended ages ago and is responsible for if nothing else, waking you from your slumber. Has become Luna Emeraltides servant.

A man that constantly looks as though he does not sleep enough and wears a somewhat gloomy expression. Who he works for is unknown, but he doesn't seem adverse to speaking with or aiding the vampires should he also gain something from it.

A maid in service to the Violet Witch, her agenda is fairly unknown aside from her affiliation and is someone who is likely not entirely an enemy.

A woman by the name of Est. Seems to command a legion of rats and being a skilled Entomancer.

A blacksmith that lives in a village not terribly far from Alavaris. Strong of both arm, will, and body, she does her best to keep the village safe through means of traps, directly fighting if necessary, and quietly taking things out before they can cause trouble if she can.

The defacto leader of the village of humans. Frustrated by his lack of ability to properly deal with threats.

A totally normal and average witch with no secrets.

A diminutive bat sized humanoid creature. Usually travels in swarms and while not overly dangerous by themselves, they can be a terror in large swarms. Are capable of using basic blood healing spells for vampires and providing other rudimentary support.

Gender:
Male

Appearance:

Stands at a large 6'4. Broad of shoulder and hulking in build. Well-defined muscle, though deeply scarred across his body. Favors furs over silks when outside of his armor. Typically favors massive two-handed weapons, and is most commonly seen wielding a massive flanged mace.

Abilities:
Dragan primarily utilizes both blood magic and necromancy in tandem, befitting a vampire known as the Death Knight.

As a blood mage, Dragan specializes in physical enhancement, preferring to fight in melee with a physical weapon in hand. Of course, he's entirely capable of utilizing the other aspects of blood magic as well, resorting to blood weapons when disarmed and blood barriers to defend against magic. Strangely, though, he has never been seen actually casting a ranged blood spell.

As a necromancer, Dragan keeps it simple, traditional, and efficient: zombies, skeletons, and other such more mundane undead with which to drown his foes in a sea of corpses. One will occasionally see larger abominations within his forces, but these are rare and tend to be pre-prepared, with Dragan seemingly unable to raise these at will in the field as he could with groups of lesser undead. Of course, Dragan cannot simply raise armies at will. Without preparation, he tends to be able to create a dozen or so undead soldiers at a time, given enough materials. With the proper rituals and rites, however, Dragan is entirely capable of acts such as raising entire graveyards at once or binding the shambling bones of large creatures into his service.

Both of these aspects combined leave this particular vampire as a frontline general, leading undead armies into the thick of battle.

Personality:
Dragan follows a twisted sense of noblesse oblige in his dealings. To him, vampires are inherently higher life forms as compared to humans, and thus bear responsibility towards them as a result. Humanity in Dragan's eyes are, at the very least, higher than cattle. It would be more accurate to say that he treats mankind as ignorant children: unable to fend for themselves or make wise decisions. Thus, vampires are to safeguard humanity within their borders, and for this service, deserve the blood they require to survive. After all, this was simply the feudal contract as existed in eras past. Only now with more worthy lords to rule over man.

As a follower of noblesse oblige, Dragan strives to be as great as he can in his personal conduct. He conducts himself with elegance and decorum. However, this is also matched with a penchant for violence and direct action. Where other vampires prefer subtle manipulations and secrecy, Dragan simply strides through problems with a suit of hulking plate armor, a massive weapon, and an undead horde at his back. He is a lord, after all, and lords do not skulk like cowards when their authority is challenged.

In regards to the Goddess, Dragan is a loyal enough follower that he swears to fulfill his divine mission without complaint. Having served the Queen once already, he sees little issue with working to bring her back.

Bio:
The vampire lord known as Dragan Meszaros, the dreaded Death Knight of eras past, was once known as the crusade's greatest shame. Born as an orphan ward of some irrelevant church of a now-dead god, Dragan grew to be a paladin of the same church, setting out on quests throughout the land. He slew monsters, saved the innocent, and championed the light of his god.

Despite his successes, however, Dragan slipped ever into deeper frustration and melancholy as he saw the same stories happen time and time again. Men create problems for themselves that he had to solve for them. Tragedies and villians were created through human sins. The apathy, greed, and wrath of humanity were greater foes than any mere monster that had ever stood in his path. Men were ever more incapable of managing themselves.

Dragan's final days as a paladin were spent chasing the rumors of a vampire in a great duchy of a now-forgotten kingdom. When he arrived, however, every value he held was challenged. The duke was a vain tyrant, working his people past the breaking point and abusing the fruits of their labor to glorify himself. The commoners barely cared about this vampire in the territory: a few deaths a month barely compared to the starving masses. In fact, when Dragan did finally track the vampire's thralls down to an outlying village, he saw something there that broke him. The people in that village, the vampire's cattle, were doing far better compared to the rest of the duchy. Better fed, working for themselves, and just...happier.

It was then that Dragan knew his truth: man was inherently unable to rule itself. Left to its own devices, humanity would eat itself alive. Dragan gave up. He fell. Returning to the duchy's capital, the once-vaunted paladin launched a brazen assault on the duke in broad daylight, slaughtering him and his meager guard. Afterwards, Dragan returned to the vampire's village, throwing the unworthy ruler's head into the middle of the town square. With the vampire's attention piqued, Dragan knelt before him, stating that he had seen the true light.

Bemused at the thought of taking a fallen paladin as Ichor's child, the vampire turned Dragan. After a period of time adjusting to his new existence and learning all he could of vampirism, Dragan took his leave, setting out on his own with his patron's blessing. Centuries later, the vampire known as the Death Knight scourged the land, conquering a kingdom with his undead army in the name of the Queen. He sought to replace the incompetent rule of man with his own benevolent tyranny. But this was not to be. Not in this era. Such a public, reviled monster was one of the first targets of the Hundred Paladins, made more urgent by the shame that he was once a paladin himself. While the bulk of the Hundred tore through his armies with their silver swords and divine blessings, their strongest champions engaged Dragan himself and laid him low. The Death Knight was shattered with his kingdom, his dreams dashed as the Hundred moved on.

Name: Akyasha

Gender: Female

Appearance: Akyasha is much like the rest of her kin. Pale, pleasing to the eyes…. The most notable features are her bright red hair and the religious garb she wears at almost all times.

Abilities: As a Vampire, of course Akyasha has access to Blood Magic and as a devout servant of Ichor, she also has access to Divine Magic that only Clerics of Ichor would have. The Divine Magics of Ichor are essentially Blood Magic without any weakness a Vampire might have as well as the ability to summon the otherworldly servants of Ichor.

That said, she utilizes her Blood Magic in a special way. When she strikes an enemy with her Blood Magic, she attempts to put a "seed" on or in them. This "seed" starts to drain blood from it's target and will over time sprout as a Blood Magic mockery of a lily, something that Akyasha affectionately calls a "Blood Lily". After she collects the lily, she can utilize it in a couple of ways, but her favorite is in her summoning magic. The amount and quality of blood that she collected influences the creatures she would summon from using the Blood Lily.

Personality: Some describe her as an eccentric. She’s a devout servant and follower of Ichor. She follows the tenets as close as she can except for one thing. While she agrees that normally, humans cannot love them, she thinks that they can be made to love them. Though, this typically means that she likes to have plenty of human thralls. Specifically, Human Women that she can dress in her religious outfits and follow the Path of Ichor.

Outside that, one could say that she is every so slightly obsessed with the Cult of Ichor and making it as perfect as she can as well as the betterment of her kin. She sees humans in three ways. The humans worth attempted to turn to the Cult of Ichor and those that are cattle meant for feeding. This does not mean the cattle are to be treated crudely as that would be against the tenets. Preferably, they are to be given their own rooms and things to do as well as well fed. That way, their blood tastes the best it could be.

The third and final way she looks at humans…. Are those worthy of ignoring. As the tenets state not to act with cruelty and treat humans with care, Akyasha finds the best way to care is to ignore those that one does not need to interact with as interaction would bring “undue attention to the undead.”

Bio: Once upon a time, Akyasha was a blonde human girl with another name, turned by a Cleric of Ichor. Over the years, she dedicated her unlife to the following of Ichor and rose through the ranks. Unfortunately, during the final years she saw many of her fellow clerics felled by Paladins until finally, she was one of the last few Clerics. Of course, one of the last few didn’t matter as she was impaled with a holy weapon and put into an eternal slumber. Only to eventually wake back up in an unforgiving world….


Anything else:

Name: Ilena
Gender: Female
Appearance: Pale, cold, detached, a menagerie of monstrosities lays within the girl known as Ilena, and it’s that invisible pressure that grants her a presence far beyond her petite stature or her beautiful, amethyst eyes. A buzzing too high-pitched to be fully audible to even the sharpened senses of her blood-brethren. A physical gravity that could only be felt on an instinctual level, rather than a physical one. Indeed, Ilena is a mere adolescent, with twig-like limbs and a rounded face, her white hair chopped roughly at her shoulder, her eyes like gems glistening within the shadow of her oversized hat.

But while the sound of crying insects and the mass of compressed shadow remain imperceptible, it does not take an astute observer to realise that within Ilena’s garb lies eyes and fangs, claws and horns.

Abilities: She is That Whom Is Birthed From Shadow. The Miserable Maven, the Mother of Plaguebringers, the Sickle of the Crimson Moon. Clad in the darkness from which human fears are made manifest, Ilena closes her eyes and allows the nightmare to become whole.

Whereas others of the Sanguine Bond manifest their might from the source of their connection to the Crimson Goddess, Ilena inspires herself with the fears of her Goddess’s foes instead, drinking deeply from the darkness until her very substance has become substituted by it. And from that primordial substance, one that had manifested ever since the stars themselves were birthed into the world, Ilena calls forth monstrosities as thick as mud and as black as ink, eldritch constructions that corrode the fabric of the world itself, while the innumerable insects that toil away at the mud of the titans’ feet rise at the whisper of their Mother, fomenting chaos and inviting famine unto a stronghold before the Black Tide smashes against its walls.

But that is merely her identity as the Maven and the Mother. The role she plays to bring glory to Ichor’s name. For those who betray and befoul the blood, however, for those who blaspheme Her tenets and break their oaths, Ilena hunts them down personally, eschewing the beasts dwelling within her shadow. For her form is as malleable as the darkness of the night, brought alive by the sputtering of a dying torch. And when the Sickle descends, not even the Moons shall witness the end of those faithless beasts.

Personality: Ilena’s faith is unfaltering! The God of Silver and Light has his paladins, and Ichor has her! For she is the Sickle of the Crimson Moon, the one who seeks out those marked for death with unfatiguing fervour! She is a true fundamentalist, unwavering in her belief in the Goddess, always seeing the greater picture and the greater good for her bloodkin, never hesitating to do what had to be done for the prosperity of the Vampires!

She was.

But she had died and she had come back, to find the world had become a paradise for her kin, and yet to have almost all her kin fallen and slain. Her prayers had been answered, but far too late, and the Age of Blood she once sought feels so shallow now. What was shadow without light? What was rule without rebellion? What was Ichor without her antithesis?

Blasphemous. And yet, the melancholia persists. In a world of eternal night, where the silver of the Hundred Paladins have dulled and the kingdoms of humanity have fallen into naught but miserable hovels, Ilena feels neither a sense of glory nor a sense of superiority in leading them. She feels the burden of charity more heavily than ever now, and sees humans as little more than sheep to be herded, meager little weaklings that can accomplish nothing without the gifts of the gods. To be dependent on such creatures then, to be obligated towards them…it disgusts her.

No. It does not.

Disgust requires a certain amount of effort as well. And Ilena does not have the heart in herself to spare such emotion, nor any heart to fully indulge in carnal pleasures. There is but the work before her, and the night that will never end.

Oh, the wistfulness of the immortal reborn!

Bio: What was an unborn child but a parasite? A leech that threatened the health of its host? A creature capable, instinctually, only of draining the energy and life out of the cord of its mother? And, knowing all that, what could Blight Lord Genereux Estime do but his best to save such delicate little things?

Perhaps Ichor frowned upon such craven indulgences, such a perversion of her tenets, but the still-Holy Man simply couldn’t find it in his heart to refuse, when a human under his protection brought the Lord to a miserable hovel, where the mother had passed away while the infant still kicked within the cooling womb. Even if pulled out from the corpse with a careful incision, the infant would still pass. And so, it was a golden opportunity.

And so, the Blight Lord did as he desired, his particular brand of fealty to Ichor having always taken the form of something nearing blasphemy. The ritual was prepared, and the blood was shared, seeping deep into the umbilical cord and into the bloodied infant who could only absorb it into her own form. The blessing took root, made a bundle of soft bones and softer flesh something else, something different.

She was born a vampire, crying, hungering, desiring something that would never sate her.

And though her father loved her still, hugging her cold, living form, he was no fool of a farmer. He had toiled within the lands of the Blight Lord, and recognized that glint of interest in his lord’s eyes. So it was blessing enough, that Genereux allowed him the right to name his child before relinquishing her to his grasp.

Ilena. His torch in the night.

…

But under the Blight Lord’s tutelage, she would become not torch, but night. The complexities of teaching a child the ways of a vampire was difficult enough, but for an infant, possessed with a mind so undeveloped that there was not even a sense of self-awareness? Genereux continued his experimentations, all for the sake of granting this infant a form that matched her age, an intelligence that matched her station. He fused insects into her flesh, to simulate growth. He called demons into her mind, to simulate wisdom. He drew illusions into her reality, to simulate experience. And, bit by bit, piece by piece, he made an infant into a girl, a girl into a woman. Composed of eldritch knowledge, of buzzing flesh, Ilena could only appreciate the world seventeen years after her birth and her transformation, stumbling about the small, dark cell that had been her cradle for so long. What was she to think? What was she to believe? What part of her body was hers anymore, if it was all the product of something borrowed?

Like all those afflicted by questions they didn’t truly want answered, Ilena found solace from identity in faith instead. The Blight Lord sent her off with his blessings and she departed on her pilgrimage, seeking the deep shadows of mountainous abyss, the astral void of the highest peaks, all for her goddess, her being. And within the suffocating blackness, so similar to her only experience of being human, she began to change beyond Genereux’s boons.

Melding into mud, assimilating with tar. Substituting all the meagre remnants of her flesh into something far more malleable, far more valuable, to the sole reason of her existence. It could not have been faith, in the end. For Ilena, it could only be a simple acknowledgment, that there would be nothing without Ichor.

And when she stepped out, reborn again out of baptismal shadow, there remained only certainty. She shall live for the reason for her existence, for her bloodkin blessed by that same crimson rite.

…

They spoke of a monster within the Valley of the Golden Slopes. One blacker than the night, one that propagated creations that profaned the earth itself. Possessed with many arms. Many eyes. Too many mouths. The Hundred Paladins battled such monstrosity, silver blades like stars against eldritch space, drawing out the viscous essence of evil itself, whilst their brethren were devoured too by the fanged maws that opened without end. But they persevered, with human vigor and divine might, driving the monstrosity deep into the tunnels of the Valley.

And as it lurked, waiting for their advance, the Silver Saints prayed and the Paladins braced.

By the miracle of the Silverlight God, the entirety of the mountain turned to silver, and that monstrosity sealed inside found itself with no escape from the purifying glory of the righteous deity. Its screams echoed long, its form too mighty to be instantly exorcised by godly silver, but its strength too meager after its battle with the Paladins to bore through that same silver.

Weeks passed. The Paladins had long departed. And finally, the Valley of the Silver Slopes was silenced.

Name: Captain Argus Fellborn, the Red Tide

Gender: Male

Appearance: Look sharp, lads, there's blood ahead!

Abilities:
Having spent decades engaging in piracy across the seas, Captain Fellborn is a highly skilled sailor and fighter, particularly with swords, firearms, and polearms. His blood magic allows him to turn blood into an explosive substance much like gunpowder, allowing him to fire flintlocks and cannons, fill grenades, and breach doors. However, this technique can injure its wielder and thus must be used very carefully.

Captain Fellborn also has an affinity for necromancy, particularly the raising and control of corporeal undead. At the height of his power, he and his thralls were able to command a ship's crew worth of undead and make them perform the often complicated tasks of running a ship. His greatest necromantic feat was infusing undeath into the dead wood that composed his ship, the Silent Swordbill, giving it a very simple, impulsive un-life enabling it to move its own sails and rudder, open and close doors and hatches, and sometimes just creak unnaturally. His powers have diminished during his sleep, however, and now he finds himself struggling to control more than a few undead at a time.

The perpetual scarcity of talent that pirate crews face has also demanded that over the years, Captain Fellborn has picked up on a few additional skills important to a ship's crew such as carpentry, nautical navigation, and cadaver surgery. Unfortunately, despite being fully aware of how effective steam propulsion is, the intricacies of steam technology elude him.

Personality:
Captain Fellborn is a firm believer in the power of fear. He cultivated the image of a vicious reaper of souls whose jolly roger signaled a fate worse than death for those who resisted. In truth, he was not cruel but rather ruthlessly pragmatic. A foe too cowed to resist meant more blood and no losses, and when he did take losses, it was prudent that he conscript some replacements, via necromancy or enthrallment, to keep his crew at full strength. In person, he believed in fellowship among sailors and treated his thralls like brothers and sisters and in turn commanded them to always speak their mind. It wasn't like he had to worry about mutiny or treachery, after all.

On the matter of humans, Captain Fellborn believes that they should be treated as a resource to not be over-harvested, like fish or whales. They must be kept in fear of vampires, but also afforded the understanding that it is in their best interest to not resist. They must neither gain the nerve to fight back nor despair so much that they decide they have nothing to lose by resisting.

As one might expect from a pirate, Captain Fellborn is very fond of gold, silver, and copper. He does not hoard it in chests, however, but rather he melts precious metals down and uses them to cast and plate weapons, from sword blades to cannon barrels. Since gaining immortality, he has become very conscious about how easily iron perishes to rust, and likes for his weapons to be able to withstand the toll of time.

Bio:
Captain Fellborn was once a sailor serving aboard the Silver Swordbill, a merchant ship that moonlighted as a smuggling vessel. His background was nothing special- his father and grandfather were both sailors, and he followed in their footsteps. During one trip, he noticed an inconsistency in the ship's cargo- an unknown crate not recorded or logged- something that was abnormal even for a smuggling job. Concerned that one of the crew might be skimming or pulling a job on the side without sharing the profits with the crew, he peeked into the crate to see what the contents were. The crate contained a vampire, tightly restrained by silver shackles. The vampire offered the man a deal, swearing by Ichor and the Violet Witch to grant him vampirism in exchange for releasing him. The sailor, hesitant to take this deal, went to the captain to report this terrifying discovery.

The captain, evidently wanting to bury the evidence, ordered the sailor to be killed, falsely accusing him of theft. In desperation, the sailor fought his way below deck and broke the vampire's shackles. The vampire slew the entire crew aside from the sailor that freed him. True to his word, he enacted the ritual to turn the sailor into a vampire, giving him a new name- Argus Fellborn.

Over the next ten years, Argus was brought into vampire society, learned to master his new form, and eventually parted ways with his sire. On the anniversary of the Silver Swordbill's disappearance, the ship returned, refitted as a ghastly pirate ship with an undead crew and a new name- the Silent Swordbill. Over the years, the ship gained a reputation as a dreaded ghost ship, which would appear only at night or during heavy fog, demanding blood and treasure from its victims. In addition to plundering merchant ships, he also attacked naval vessels, but to these ships he made no demands, accepted no parlays, and gave no quarter. Occasionally, he'd find someone who was willing to sign the pirate articles and submit to enthrallment, and with every thrall, his crew became stronger.

Even the dreaded Red Tide, however, was compelled to serve the queen and Ichor, and it so happened that he was called upon to deliver a sealed package across the sea, and to not allow anything to stop him from getting it to the recipient. Unfortunately, it was during this smuggling operation that the Hundred Paladins finally caught up to the elusive pirate. During a storm, a powerful steam frigate intercepted the Silent Swordbill, and the ghost ship's sails could not match the swiftness of its foe's steam propulsion. Captain Fellborn managed to escape after a hard-fought battle that left the frigate's steam engine heavily damaged, but he had to sacrifice most of his crew, including every last one of his thralls To make matters worse, one of the enemy marines had managed to steal one of his most valued possessions- an enchanted compass that always pointed in the direction of the Silent Swordbill.

After making the delivery, Captain Fellborn concluded that it was only a matter of time before the Paladins tracked him down, and there wasn't going to be enough time to rebuild his crew. There was another matter that weighed on him- while he may have hidden it well, sacrificing his faithful thralls to ensure the mission's success was the most agonizing thing he had ever done. He had no choice in the matter- the queen and Ichor must be served, at any cost- but it didn't make the loss any less painful. With the Paladins having gained the ability to track his ship, it was only a matter of time before he joined them in death.

Instead of getting ready for a final stand, or attempting to flee, he sailed up and down the coast, burying caches of cannons, armaments, and gunpowder, each with a plank of wood from the ship. If the planks were able to fool the compass, it'd slow them down long enough for him to give them the slip. If not, then his buried treasure would secure a legacy more immortal than vampirism. While burying the final cache, however, the paladins finally caught up to him. The pirate captain chose to face them alone, ordering his skeleton crew to return to the ship and raise anchor. It was a good way for a pirate to met his end, he thought as his foes finally overwhelmed him...