Helo

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Morning
Location: Rooftop near The Witches Brew
Interaction with: @Tae Maeve

Noah buzzed with excitement as the sound of a scream cut through the quiet morning, finally someone had found his gift. His vampire hearing picked it up with perfect clarity and it was just as satisfying as he had imagined. He waited for the rest of the scene to play out just as he had imagined it but was taken by surprise when moments later a woman, obviously a witch, appeared on the roof with him. He was thrilled to see his gift had in fact found its way to a witch so quickly, and even better was the look of fury that danced in her eyes. Was he lucky enough to have already stumbled onto another witch? He could hardly believe his good fortune, he hadn’t expected them to be quite so easy to find but he was after all, very clever.

She continued with an array of tricks, the sudden appearance of the eyeball he’d left in the cafe, then making it levitate and glow. It became like a projector showing him the beauty of his last kill, the glorious savagery of it, but now he was getting to see it from the prey’s eyes. Noah with a wild and toothy grin watched the image the eyeball played in front of him; how thrilling to watch himself kill, to see himself depicted as a perfect monster. He let out a deep throaty laugh at her question, it had such an obvious answer, did it even need asked? He gave a slow clap at the trick and smiled at her question.

“Strange? Why would it be strange? I did kill him.” The eyeball trick had been incredibly amusing, a real showstopper but Noah cared for her next trick far less. A heavy chain wrapped itself around Noah like a snake, constricting his movements. The chain itself was brighter than the sunlight that struggled to break through the clouds on this overcast morning, and it stung with more intensity than even sun on a bright day. It made his skin tingle and itch. The trick that followed next was another impressive one, as four of her now stood before him, speaking in unison. Noah continued to grin, now allowing his fangs to show in excitement, he’d always enjoyed a good magic show. Two things were abundantly clear; this witch was more powerful than Shay, and for some reason she thought Drake had sent him to The Witch’s Brew.

“You, smell like…” Noah took a long pause, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath as he made a show of sniffing the air. He was enjoying this, it was dramatic, encapsulating, and he felt like a great villain. “Power.” He said with a laugh as he opened his eyes back up. “How interesting, and to treat me with a magic show, with surround sound, and it’s not even my birthday.” He thought about her questions, unsure of what exactly Drake would want him to reveal to a witch. The thought that a witch could ever do real harm to Noah wasn’t something he could comprehend and he found her threat of consequences amusing. Witches were beneath vampires; they lived, breathed, ate all the same as humans did, even with a touch of magic witches were still lesser beings. He wondered why Drake would even bother to maintain a show of friendship with one, why not just take this witch and make her turn over Shay, surely such a thing was within his capabilities. He studied her reaction, searching for any clues as to what interests a witch could hold to a vampire, other than the amusement of their magic tricks.

“As for my gift, Lord Drake sent me to find his lost pet, and where better to leave a message for a witch, than at a cafe with witch in its name? You’re not the one I’m looking for but you’ve got tricks up your sleeves don’t you? I’ll bet you could give me a hint, help me find the lost witch and I won’t have to leave anymore messages.” Noah paused and turned his head to look towards The Witch’s Brew where there had been a very human reaction to the scene inside only moments ago. “Hey was that your friend screaming, it was quite lovely, I think I’d like to hear it again. How ‘bout it, by the pricking of your thumbs, bring us Shay, or something wicked her way comes.” He turned back towards her, showing no concern or any sense of danger at his situation. He wondered how the witch would react to a threat against her human friend, if witches even concerned themselves with human lives or if they were more akin to vampires in such matters.

---

Time: Rest of the night/Next day early afternoon
Location: OH HQ/Diner
Interaction with: none

Much to his annoyance outside the exhibit were several operatives from Operation Humanity. The humans who tried to flee had been stunned unconscious, probably to cover up the whole vampire debacle. It made sense, the mass panic that would ensue if most people knew what was out there would be much worse than keeping people in the dark. The world certainly did not need modern day witch trials. Still being electrocuted unconscious and waking up in a OH interrogation room was not a fun way to continue his night, even if he could understand the reasoning behind it.

Unsurprisingly, a secret military monster hunting group knew far more about him by the time he woke up than he ever did about them. The Holy Saviors, at least when he’d been a part of it, kept a very low opinion of OH. Not only did they allegedly use witches in the development of their weapons, there were also rumors that they did ‘unnatural experiments’ on their operatives as well. Though to be fair Father Xavier also considered everything from vaccines to removing ones appendix to be an ‘unnatural experiment,’so Eli didn’t exactly put much stock in anything he’d heard from that source. They asked a ton of questions regarding the vampire incident while answering none of his own.

What Eli told the operatives of OH was mainly focused on the vampires. They already knew there were werewolves, no use lying about that, it wasn’t as if he could pretend he hadn’t seen giant lycanthropes tossing vampires around. When asked which direction they were headed he could honestly say he had no idea, they left out the back and that was all he knew. He briefly mentioned the redhead and the insane child, both of whom he suspect worked for them, but said nothing of the witch. She’d been at the art gallery initially in disguise, and he omitted her from anything he told Operation Humanity. Sure, she could be working with them too, maybe that was what she and Red had been arguing about, but just to play it safe he acted like he hadn’t seen anyone besides the child playing with fire at the art gallery.

Then came their recruitment speech, offering him a place in their organization that came with a thick contract and rather tempting signing bonus. While he was more than sure the resources they could provide would make his job a hell of a lot easier, signing up with a secret military operation would have far more strings attached than he could imagine. He’d already left one cult and wasn’t looking to join another, especially one so well controlled and funded; there was little chance that they’d let someone who worked for them just walk away. Upon being led out of the one building he spotted a brief glimpse of Colonel Trotter; the man, the myth, the mustache, himself. Then a black hood was placed over his head and he was driven back into town in complete darkness. Once he finally made it back to his apartment he finished off his night with his usual pre-bedtime ritual; drinking until he could finally pass out. It wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but when one’s soul becomes as burdened as his had, it was the only reliable way to sleep. If he did have dreams while passed out drunk he never had the unpleasant memories of them, and that made a morning hangovers more than worth it.

A bad night and a morning hangover were best settled with a morning cigarette, diner food, and black coffee. The diner was within walking distance, as was just about everywhere in Ember Grove, so he smoked his morning cigarette as he walked there. The first cigarette of the morning was always the best one, the only one that still gave a taste of that nicotine buzz and he savored every inhale. This was one of the few times where his mind was clear, and his only thoughts were of his cigarette and a peaceful view of the overcast sky. Inside the diner he ate alone, enjoying the unlimited coffee refills, and letting the calmness of the morning linger before he had to again worry about all the creatures that lurked in the shadows of Ember Grove.

Avalia

Azriel & Bowyn

---

Bowyn tried to pull his façade back up, he needed to make sure nothing about his words or expression would give him away to whoever he was to dance with next. He followed the enchanted paper the dance’s host had supplied but as he approached, he could feel Boreas becoming uneasy. The merlin’s talons dug further into him than was necessary to simply perch. He glanced at the bird sensing its stress and locked eyes with Boreas. Bowyn and the bird both shared a weariness of strangers, and he couldn’t be sure if this particular stranger made the bird uneasy or simply his own stress at the whole affair. “It’s fine, we can handle this. The last one wasn’t so bad right?” He told Boreas, words he barely believed himself but he tried to believe them. Boreas always had a talent for knowing when he was lying. He moved his eyes towards his new dance partner, a type of winged demihuman often referred to as Angels. “Look she’s a bird Demihuman, bet you two have a lot in common.” He added though the bird seemed unconvinced.

“Some birds eat other birds.” Boreas reminded him.

”A fair point but I don’t believe we have much choice in the matter so behave and I won’t let the bird-lady eat you.” He whispered to the bird before making the rest of his way towards the winged woman. Boreas complied, staying impassive on the fairy’s shoulder though his eyes still kept a close watch on the stranger. While Bowyn certainly didn’t have any trust in the stranger he did write the merlin’s concern off as just not liking other birds. Once in front of the Angel he bowed as was customary and offered his hand out for the dance. “Good evening, may I have this dance.” He asked, offering a friendly but insincere smile.

Azriel had been scanning the crowd as she slowly made her way through it, looking for any curious figures though she knew it wasn’t likely to spot a rebel that easily or a human. She also took a moment to see who Darius had been paired with as well, purely out of curiosity and to just note where the human ended up. Her attention was caught as she heard someone speak to her and she looked at the man before her. She eyed him and the bird on his shoulder only for a moment before grinning at them. Now this was a curious person, but not because she suspected him to be a rebel or anything. No it was more of the fact that he was a winter fairy. ”Yes you may.” She responded as she dipped down into a curtsy while taking his hand as he’d offered. ”I suppose introductions are in order. I’m Azriel and I must say it is a delight to see one of your kind here tonight. It’s not often one is graced by the presence of a winter fairy. Perhaps your presence is a sign of a good omen?” She kept a playful smile on her face as the music began.

Bowyn struggled to stifle a laugh at being referred to as a good omen, that was one he’d certainly never heard before. Instead of meeting her words with outright laughter he flashed a smile of genuine amusement. It was still strange to think of his kind as the rarity they were to the rest of Avalia and the notion of anyone being ‘graced by his presence’ was damn near comical to him. The dance itself was simple enough, it didn’t take much to keep up with the steps and the slow pace. The real trick was how to maneuver the conversation, what to reveal and what to keep hidden and that was the task he kept his mind focused on. He stuck with what he’d decided earlier, to stick with half truths rather than outright lies, as they were harder to detect, and easier to keep track of. Even when sticking only to part of the truth, his tone was easily more sincere and lacked the hint of stress found in a lie.

“A good omen? That’s a new one, what sort of portents do you hope I bring? Perhaps some relief from the near sweltering heat in Roshmi? I am beginning to understand why my kind rarely stray this far south.” Bowyn made a casual and light hearted joke, generally when conversing with boring people the weather was a safe topic. Then again, Azriel, both in attire and composure, struck him as anything but boring. “I’m Bowyn, and it’s really my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Azriel. I must say, excluding my companion here, you have the most elegant wings I’ve ever seen.” He added, in an attempt to shift the conversation towards her. Most people preferred to talk about themselves anyhow and that made figuring them out much easier. What Bowyn lacked in social skill he easily made up for with his knowledge of birds. There was little a bird took more pride in than its feathers and especially its wings. He could only assume that such pride extended towards the Avian demi’s as well.

”Oh most definitely relief from this horrid heat we have.” Azriel responded to his joke, giving him her own amused smile. So far this fairy was proving to be quite intriguing indeed. He seemed to have a quick wit to him and a humor that she appreciated. He didn’t seem to be anything like the forest fairies that she and Umber had encountered not too long ago. Perhaps the cold of the north made them not so soft as their southern brethren. His next comment caught her a bit off guard and she couldn’t contain a giggle as she eyed the bird on his shoulder for a brief second. ”Well don’t you know how to charm an angel. Thank you for the compliment, I am quite proud of these wings. Your own wings are quite intriguing to me, however. So intricate and pretty looking, yet they also seem like they’d be quite fragile. How on earth do you keep them from harm?” She asked with a small smirk, genuinely curious about the subject.

“That’s an easy one, though they are sturdier than they look, I keep my wings and myself far away from harm.” Bowyn replied, although his grin faded as he realized that was no longer the truth. Her innocent question sent his mind spiraling towards dark thoughts. He had certainly considered the possibility, or rather the extreme likelihood, that his recent foray into foolishness would get him killed. That he could almost handle but the possibility of hurting his wings and then to go on without flight was a fate he had not considered. That seemed worse than death, to live only on the ground and never fly, never have that true sense of freedom one only felt in the skies. “Could you imagine, to lose flight?” Bowyn shuddered at the thought, “I think I’d rather die.”

He tried to keep his mind from continuing down such a dark path, but couldn’t help but wonder. Would he give that up? To end Aeryn’s undead existence, surely, for that cause, he’d even gladly trade places and take on her fate. But to help Torvi and Belle, would he be willing to sacrifice something like his wings. Flight and magic were the things he valued most, even when he had nothing, he had those to make life bearable. He had to stop himself from thinking on this further, this was not where his mind should be, so he forced himself to focus first on the steps of the dance, then on Azriel. “Apologies, such dark topics have no place here. Tell me have you been to the floating city? I hear it’s the most beautiful place in all of Avalia.” He continued, attempting to turn the conversation towards something more pleasant, with a forced smile and a sick churning in his stomach.

”Sadly I can say I can imagine losing flight.” Azriel said with a small sigh as she ruffled her wings a little bit, the memory still fresh in her mind. ”You see when I was a little girl I experienced the cruelties of this world. I was enslaved by terrible people and when I made one little mistake they beat me horribly, broke my wings, and left me in the middle of nowhere to die. I would have died even if it weren’t for one person who found me, took pity on me, and showed me a small amount of kindness by nursing me back to health and mending my wings. But for a long time I couldn’t fly, having to relearn the skill over time.” She explained, a strange sadness filling her as she remembered it all. She’d eventually gotten her revenge for the atrocity dealt to her, but the memory still hurt even to this day. She was glad when the subject changed and she chuckled a little at his question. ”Why yes I have been there. It is quite a beautiful city, but it’s filled with quite a pompous race. They might even rival the light elves!” She said jokingly with a smirk, hoping to maybe even make him laugh a little bit.

Bowyn was more than a bit surprised by Azriel’s first response, not because the cruelty of others ever shocked him but at how she could share such things with a stranger. To share his darkest moments was something he could rarely do even when he had friends other than Boreas. To be so open with a stranger, to show another any sign of weakness, was a strange form of trust that he rarely offered anyone, but it seemed she had extended a small amount of trust to him. It was jarring enough to lower his guard, someone who would allow themselves to be vulnerable in such a way did not seem like an enemy to him. If anything, he found her to be one of the more likable creatures from his own world, and the realization that they shared a similar opinion on elves only made him relax further. Certainly not enough that he thought her a rebel, for she seemed neither foolish nor naive, and he had no plans to share what Cora had told him with anyone but Torvi and Belle either way. But as things stood, Azriel was someone he would gladly share a drink with, if he ever had time again for pleasantries.

It was her comment on Elves though, that genuinely made him laugh, forgetting for a moment that he had shown up here with fake elf friends and sharing his own jab. “That is a surprise, I wasn’t aware anyone could rival the arrogance of elves. I am always shocked to see them out in public, can’t imagine what it took for them to pry themselves away from a mirror.” He said with a grin. He was more than a bit surprised at his own disappointment as the music began to fade signaling the forced dancing was coming to an end. He had begun to suspect that the only other people he found tolerable were the humans not from his world. However, his interaction with Azriel was beginning to make him second guess his belief that everyone in Avalia could be so easily written off as not worth his time. “I don’t say this to many people, because I have believed for a long time that most people are garbage, but it has truly been a pleasure to meet you. It is rare these days to find good company, and it seems I lucked out, having met an Angel without any elven attitude. May you always fly free Azriel, and may you know a kinder world.” Bowyn spoke, his smile easy and sincere now, and his words no longer mere half-truths, but genuine.

The sound of his laughter surprisingly made Azriel genuinely smile. Why had she never truly taken the time before to converse with others? She’d now had two very enjoyable conversations tonight and it had her questioning some things. How strange, perhaps she would ponder this at a later date as she unfortunately wouldn’t have the time after this dance. ”Truly the pleasure has been mine Bowyn. I had written off so many in this world that I never thought to take the time to really speak with another. You have shown me that perhaps it’s beneficial to do so sometimes. So I must thank you for that. I do hope that we run into each other again in the future and can have another pleasant conversation like this.” She said as the music came to an end and she stepped away from him, dipping into a curtsy once more. ”Keep those wings protected, my friend, as I’d love to share a flight with you in the future.” And with that she turned to leave the dance, feeling strangely happy as she made her way over to get herself a drink and stand off the side of the dance floor. While she’d enjoyed her dances, that was quite enough dancing for her tonight. Now she needed to stand back and observe the event in front of her.

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Night
Location: The Witch’s Brew
Interaction with: Desecrating some corpses

the reference photo of The Witch’s Brew from the discord

His time spent riding aimlessly in the truck had provided Noah with one useful sight, a sign for a small cafe he’d never really paid much attention to, The Witch’s Brew. This was the perfect spot for his next move, it even had the word ‘witch’ in its name. Noah, of course, had no idea that such a place was owned and run by the oldest and most powerful witch in Ember Grove. Nor did he have any real reason to believe it was some kind of witch hot spot, but what he did know was that if Ember Grove had a vampire themed hangout he would most certainly go there for the sheer irony of it. He could only assume that witches might have the same appreciation for kitschy irony as well, and that statistically, at least a handful of the cafe’s patrons must be witches. Maybe one of them would know of Shay, or if he succeeded in creating enough of a scene, perhaps she would hear of such a thing on the news. He could imagine the headline now ‘Satanic Slaying found inside The Witch’s Brew’ and such a thought made him grin. Many years ago his father used to be the one writing those headlines, and now it would be Noah who made them.

He needed her attention, needed her to be drawn out so that he could better hunt her, she would start making mistakes. He knew his message had to be clear and bold. Something that couldn’t be easily swept under the rug like so many crimes of Ember Grove. He needed to grab the town’s attention, make sure that his message would reach Shay, that it would reach every witch in town. So he waited in the backseat of a car in the back lot of one of the bars until his victims arrived. To his luck two humans came to the car, already very intoxicated, and therefore so much easier for him to deal with. Normally Noah preferred to play games with his prey, but humans were not what he was hunting right now, the witch was. He snapped the neck of the driver before savagely tearing the throat of the passenger, finally getting the meal he’d been craving for most of the night. By now it was very late at night, most people of Ember Grove were gone from the streets, the majority of creatures out at this time were likely up to things almost as devious as Noah was.

After he fed he was calmer, it was easier to focus on the rest of his plan, his mind was no longer drifting away to thoughts of his past. He parked the car near the back door of the cafe close to the dumpster. Breaking in was easy, a locked door was no match for his vampiric strength. The body of the victim with a snapped neck was drug inside, carefully placed propped against the tree that grew inside the cafe. A decorative bird cage that he found inside was then placed over the victims head, whose neck had been twisted enough to make it look like the corpse was always trying to watch it’s back. In Noah’s mind this was all too perfect, it was just like the cage they would return the witch to, a cage for a pet. While she could watch her back all she wanted, just like the body Noah posed in the cafe, he believed her fate was already determined.

Noah had brought with him a handful of things that he’d grabbed from home; a knife, a gift tag, a greeting card, and a can of bright red spray paint. Now it was time to wrap his gift, which came in the form of entrails removed from the victim he’d drained of blood earlier. These he used to decorate the tree inside the cafe much in the same way his family had decorated their christmas tree. Taking them from the corpse already mostly drained of blood made much less of a mess than he anticipated, and he hoped this would only further confuse those who came upon his scene. Once this was completed he set to work on preparing a bow for his gift.

A pair of eyes perfectly plucked out were placed upon the counter right next to the cash register, with a severed tongue in front of them. Both of these parts had been harvested from the body with a snapped neck that now sat under the tree. A few stray droplets of blood were scattered around the counter but for the most part he left a much cleaner scene than he had in the woods. This time Noah thought things out more, he was careful and deliberate. He left a gift tag, tied around the piercing on the severed tongue, it was written in blood and stated simply, ‘To: Shay, From:’ and rather than his name he signed it with a crescent moon drawn in blood. Noah knew his own name wasn’t well known, it would carry no weight, but a moon drawn in blood would point those with supernatural knowledge towards Sanguine Moon, and that would have to do for now, until his own name became one that struck fear. He wasn’t sure if news of this part of his gift would reach Shay but he really hoped it would.

He continued his project with the can of spray paint, writing out ‘SHAY’ in big red letters on the wooden floor in front of the counter. Even after the majority of the mess he was making here was cleaned up, the message on the floor would be much harder to get rid of, and Noah wondered how long it would sit there. He wondered if at some point she’d walk in and see it, and know that he’d killed people because of her, because she had defied Drake. He really hoped she would, it would serve a nice reminder for when they got her back what would happen if she tried anything again. In the dark he looked around for a pen to sign the card before he left. The card was mostly plain with Happy Halloween on the front and a picture of a black cat wearing a pointed witches hat sitting next to a jack-o-lantern. Inside he wrote, ‘Bring us Shay, or more will die’ and signed it with a happy face that had a pair of fangs. He placed the card in the hands of the victim with no eyes, tongue, and a twisted neck, leaving his bright red paint stained fingerprints on the card. Before he left the cafe he washed blood from his hands in the sink, and took one last look at his beautiful masterpiece, wondering if Lord Drake himself would be proud of such a work of art.

Noah envisioned how the morning would play out, the look of shock and horror on the face of whoever came to open the cafe, the building soon covered in police tape, the hours they would spend collecting evidence. He had no reason to worry about fingerprints or DNA, if anything was even able to be traced back to him, it would only lead them to a missing and presumed dead teen from years ago. Nosey journalists would desperately try to pry into the details, releasing as much of the grizzly scene to the public as they could get their hands on. Ember Grove was used to mysterious disappearances, the occasional body found mauled in the woods, but this would be different. Vampires rarely made such a proud spectacle of their work, he would have all the attention that the truly great monsters of history only ever got. He would be Ember Groves very own Jack the Ripper, and that thought filled Noah with a bubbling giddiness that he never felt before.

He drove the car, along with what remained of the bloodless corpse tucked away in the trunk, deep into the woods and left it there. Instead of returning home to his clan, he walked back to The Witch’s Brew where it’s back door still sat slightly ajar. He didn’t intend to miss what would happen when his gift was found, the best part about giving gifts was watching people open them after all. Noah climbed up to the roof of the building that sat right next to the cafe, the sheer anticipation building in him as time crept by. Soon the place was due to open, soon somebody would arrive and he could watch it all unfold. He hoped to hear a scream right out of a horror movie, and with his enhanced vampire sight he felt confident he would be able to spot the reactions of those who saw such horror. He would stay here all day, although the thought of hanging around in the daylight greatly annoyed him, it would be worth it in the end, to watch the chaos his plan would unleash. To watch for any reactions that could point him towards more witches, anyone who could bring him closer to catching his prey.

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Night
Location: The KILL Truck
Interaction with: Adrian @role model

Time kept ticking by, time he was wasting at a McDonalds drive thru, all while thirst burned in his throat. To keep himself occupied Noah fiddled with everything in the car the way a child would. He messed with the air conditioning until it was blasting out freezing air onto his undead skin. He alternated between unlocking and locking the door as the button made a satisfying and repeated popping noise and switching the radio stations until he found mariachi music. He fully reclined his seat and alternated next with rolling the window up and down repeatedly, and slowly increasing the radio volume to see how loud it got before Adrian found it irritating. It was something he did almost instinctively and it took a several minutes before he remembered why; this was how he used to annoy his mother.

“Noah William Beaumont, I swear to god if you don’t knock it off, I am buying you a strait jacket.” A voice was heard only in his own head, his mother’s voice. Not angry but with it’s comforting mix of exasperation and amusement, followed by a slight chuckle. A cold chill ran threw him that had nothing to do with the blasting AC in the car and he immediately sat up straight in the reclined seat. For a single second he saw his mother’s face in the review mirror, looking as she did the day he had found her dead; pale, emaciated, and hauntingly peaceful. His head snapped behind him to check but there was nothing there; no ghouls just his mind playing its tricks again. He slowly reached down and returned his seat to its upright position just as a human handed coffee over to Adrian.

Noah wanted to grab the human through the car window; why shouldn’t he, Adrian had his silly human drink, why shouldn’t Noah have blood now? But he didn’t, solely for the fact that Adrian was between him and the prey. Even more appalling than the smell of grease and oil was Adrian flirting with prey like it was worth anything. He hoped they would follow the car in front of him, the car that held them up for so long, and feed on its passengers before they consumed the greasy food and made their blood taste like the grease smelled. Before he could make his suggestion to Adrian though, his cell phone chimed with its new message for him. A text from Olivia, Warden of his clan, and her words were laws. It seemed such a strange way for creatures of such immense power to communicate, so pedestrian, to use cell phones. Vampires in movies never gave orders in such an anti-climactic way, and Noah liked the dramatic flair he saw in cinematic vampires.

Any means necessary? He texted back focusing now on his fortunate distraction.

Yes. The single word Noah had wanted, for it meant his dark imagination would have no limits.

“Guilty of?” He responded to Adrian’s question with a shrug. What other reason was needed beside her return was his master’s will? “She is Lord Drake’s pet and she has run away. He wants her found and we should find her first.” Noah told him, and that was really all he knew about the witch. Why his Lord wanted her didn’t really matter to him, only the potential for praise when he found the witch mattered to him. The text meant that now more vampires would be looking. Bodies left to be found in the woods would longer do, he needed the witch’s attention drawn out faster. A message the witch would find quickly, the McDonalds would have been a good place, but it was gone now. He didn’t want to go back and he didn’t want to share. He’d let Adrian worry about coffee and flirting with the prey, and Noah would concern himself with only finding Drake’s pet. Then we he found the witch his clan would be proud of him, they’d see how loyal he was, he would earn respect.

“Are we going home now? We should think of plan to catch the witch for tomorrow night.” Noah added, starring out the window as the truck rolled down the highway. He tried to clear his mind from the dwelling on things he did not want to remember, focusing on his gnawing thirst and letting it ground him back to what he now was; a vampire and not a human child, and he had a job to do. He had no intention of spending any time resting until his hunt was finished. He already had a new plan, and Noah thought it was a good one.

Avalia

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Valok Grimmrot ⋆ 22 ⋆ Male ⋆ Dark Elf

Dark Necessities

---

Appearance

Height:

6’

Weight:

185lbs

Hair Color:

Coal black that begins to fade into an ash gray

Eye Color:

Bright orange embers that burn with the intensity of his ever watchful gaze

Skin Tone:

Pale gray, littered with scars

Brief Clothes Description:

Dresses almost exclusively in black, coats, shirts, pants, boots, ect, as dark clothing allows him to better blend into the shadows.

Loyal ⋆ Inquisitive ⋆ Dedicated ⋆ Intense

Psychology

Likes:

It would be difficult for Val to explain what exactly he does like about the world for he knows so little of it. His life has been one devoted to training to become a loyal soldier and nothing more. There is what he knows; training, hard work, and combat. To ask him if these are things that he likes would be difficult for him to say, he knows almost nothing else. There is, the occasional quiet moments alone where he gazes up into the night sky, at the moon and the stars and thinks about other worlds and other lives. If humans can be brought from another world, then what are other worlds like, what are the lives of those people like. He finds these moments peaceful and they almost make him smile, but these are not thoughts he would share with others. Dreams and curiosity are not things that should occupy a soldier’s mind, they have no use in battle, and Val fears these moments make him weak.

Dislikes:

With so little experience of anything outside his home and of Daka, Val dislikes all that he has been taught to hate. Light Elves who banished his people, the other, more celebrated races, that lifted no hand to aid them. The humans and rebel scum who fight against Aklenroth, the Great King, for they betray Avalia, and so these are the creatures he hates above all else. The rebellion is one to destroy all that Dark Elves have built for themselves, to cruelly force them back into the shadows and into poverty. Cowards, deserters, and traitors, for they shame Aklenroth with their despicable actions and weaken the Dark Elf forces. When it comes to simpler things Val lacks the diversity of experience to really have an opinion or the desire to form one. He eats what is provided for him and is thankful to have food at all. The weather makes no difference to him other than ways it might influence combat. He has no vices and partakes in no activity that will hinder his ability to serve the king. When it comes to relationships with others, there are allies or enemies, as that is the extent of his experience with others.

Above all things, there is one thing he cannot stomach, and that is cruelty for the sake of it. He can understand the need for bloodshed, that terrible things must sometimes be done in the name of keeping peace, but to torture someone simply for enjoyment or for vengeance is a line he has deemed uncrossable.

Fears:

Weakness in himself, his occasional quiet moments when he looks up at the stars and wonders, times his thoughts are questioning or curious, these are times he finds himself weak. He is a soldier of The Great King and his thoughts should always be of combat and of service.

His life as a soldier of Aklenroth is one that he knows will extend past his inevitable death, and becoming undead is both a fate he accepts and fears. Although taught that this is a great honor the empty eyes of the dead haunt him. He often wonders what that existence is like, if they feel anything,or if it’s a constant state of torment, and the question of which is worse; feeling nothing but agony or nothing at all.

The feeling of being afraid, something he is supposed to have grown out of, it was a huge part of his training to learn not to be afraid, but it still creeps in. He doesn’t know if others like him feel it too but he would never admit to it. The fact that he still feels fear, when it was supposed to be trained out of him, bothers him, for it reminds him that he has failed at living up to his expectations.

Sexuality:

Undetermined and of no consequence to him, he is of too low a class to be good breeding stock and romantic entanglements are a distraction to a good soldier.

Personality:

Valok is a quiet elf by nature, he takes things in, watches with intense curiosity and tries to learn. He speaks when necessary but in general keeps to himself. He does not wish to stand out amongst his fellow soldiers, to ask questions or show concern. He does like having others around, finding comfort in knowing he’s not alone while still enjoying the peace of the occasional quiet moment when he is alone. Val does not know what it means to be selfish. He was raised with the absolute belief and acceptance that his life belongs to The Great King; he is nothing more than his soldier and that his life does not even truly belong to him. He has never truly owned anything, everything he has was issued to him and his life is one of servitude for the debt that all Dark Elves owe to Aklenroth. While there are many who would see him as cruel, he sees himself as a faithful soldier. He follows his orders, trusts his commanders and his king, and what he is asked to do is for the betterment of Avalia. He does not kill for the enjoyment of it, he will end his enemy quickly so that they do not suffer and what he does, he does because it must be done. As far as protecting others that is something he does when commanded but those like him, his fellow soldiers, they are all disposable, just as he is, and his orders and his mission always come before any single life. That was how he was raised, how he was trained, and he knows no other way.

Val was raised from birth to be a soldier, he has never had family or personal connections, this is the only life he has ever known. While he shows no fear in battle to call him brave would be incorrect, for he has nothing to lose, even his life is not his. After death he will still serve Aklenroth as an undead, this he also accepts. Though he does still feel fear it has never held him back from action. There are two things that matter; following his orders and continuing Dark Elf prosperity. The blood in his veins runs almost as cold as the air of Daka, he rarely loses his temper, and violence is saved for when it must be done. His patience, his calmness, his seemingly complete apathy all come from his hollowness. A faint notion that something in his life is wrong but a lack of understanding for what exactly it is, he can only chalk it up to his own imperfections, that there is some failing in him preventing him from being a better soldier. Because serving his people and Aklenroth should be enough for him, this has always been his purpose, and his hope is that once he has lived up to his full potential the hollowness will leave him.

As a member of the lowest class of Dark Elves, Val is trained as just a basic soldier. He was taught no battle tactics or strategy, he knows he will never be some great commander. He was raised to be on the front lines, the cannon fodder, the disposable, and his death and the deaths of those like him only fuel the army of undead. There was no time wasted in educating him, he learned the basics of his history; hatred of Light Elves, Faires, and Demihumans, and the stories of Aklenroth, The Great King, celebrated hero of the Dark Elves. He learned to do as he was told and to not ask questions. He is, however, observant and intensely curious. Valok has seen so little of the world and often wonders about all the places he’s never been and of other worlds that must surely exist. He lacks charisma, his tone is often soft and emotionless, echoing his own hollowness. Manipulating people is not a skill for a weapon, but the skill of leaders and so it is not something that would ever occur to him. Jokes are quickly lost on him, and rarely makes any attempts at humor. Some may find his loyalty and dedication to a Lich insane; he kills his enemies with no hesitation, fights with no thought or hope for himself, and even accepts that one day his corpse will be used in an undead army. But Valok was never given a choice in his life, he has simply accepted his circumstances and lived with them.

Dedication ⋆ Perseverance ⋆ Violence

Disposable Heroes

Background

Occupation

Soldier, or at least he was, now he is less than nothing, a deserter, the most vile of traitors.

Living Immediate Family Members:

Unknown

Dead Immediate Family Members:

Unknown

Current Companions:

None

Current and Past Lover(s):

None

Are you a loner or with a group? Have you always been in this place?:

Val has both rarely spent a moment alone and has in many ways, always been alone. Currently he is more alone than he has ever been before.

History:
As an infant Valok was sold to the army to be trained as a soldier, he never knew his parents or of any family. He is without attachments raised solely to fight and die for The Great King. He was never told why he was sold off; could’ve been his parents owed a great debt or it could have been that he was simply unwanted, but Val does not waste time dwelling on such matters. He was not raised to think, but to fight. His life has always been one of strict order and discipline. All moments of his young life were scheduled down to the second, when he woke up, when he ate, when he trained, and when he rested. His schedule was grueling, keeping him exhausted, far too exhausted to think about his circumstances even if he had any interest in them to begin with. All his life he has been taught that he does not matter; he is but one of many soldiers who fight not for their own glory but for that of Aklenroth and to continue the age of prosperity for Dark Elves.

Even his surname is not his own, but the name of one of many schools that exists for the sole purpose of turning out disposable soldiers for the king. He has no name to pass on, no family ties to bind him down, no legacy to protect or further. Instead he has just a single shared goal with every other graduate of Grimmrots; to serve the king. For Aklenroth is the great savior of the Dark Elves, it was he who unshackled them from the oppression of Light Elves, he who brought them power and prosperity, and he who was the only ruler in all of Avalia’s dark history who ever cared about the plight of the Dark Elves. Like any Dark Elf loyalist, Val sees his king as both a hero and a fair and just leader. It is the rebels who wish to turn back time and return the Dark Elves to poverty and mistreatment, and thus they can only be seen by him as villains.

Grimmrots was his home for the majority of his life, he grew up there, trained there, learned there. From the second he was able he was trained to fight, both with weapons and with magic. His dark abilities have always been a part of him, his people take pride in being gifted by the night. There was no goofing around, no days off, no time to make friends as a soldier needed none of those things. He worked hard, he learned discipline, and any failure in this was punished harshly. Wake up, train, eat, chores, train, eat, rest. The schedule repeated endlessly. Val took comfort in the schedule, he knew what he was supposed to do and where he had to be, he didn’t have time or energy left to worry about anything else. Those who did not take to this kind of life were made an example of; weakness was not tolerated. He learned how to face fear, how to bear pain, and how to kill. Once he was old enough, he was shipped off to The Pits, just as every other graduate of Grimmrots, to experience true combat.

The Pits held a similar schedule and he adjusted quickly. He then put his training to use, fighting for his life in gladiatorial combat while others watched and occasionally cheered. Some of his comrades in the Pits enjoyed the killing and the cheering of a crowd, Val did it because he was good at it. This was the experience he needed to become a true soldier, killing was how he would serve his people and his King, and he was raised for service. He fought monsters and killed other Dark Elves branded as cowards, deserters, or simply as weak. What or who he killed did not concern him, his orders were to win and he followed through. Once he was deemed worthy, just as many before him, he was sent to serve in Aklenroth’s army. He was loyal, obedient, and well trained.

After his time in The Pits he was moved to Malthemoor, where he continued training under the harshest of conditions. Like steel he was strengthened, taught how to serve in the army and what to do when the more detestable races of Avalia got ideas of uprisings. It would seem keeping Avalia in peace was even more work than war could be, the constancy in which a small uprising would occur made no sense to him. So many of Avalia’s subjects seemed to hunger for violence; had Aklenroth not brought them all peace, unified them, brought a new age of unparalleled prosperity? What was the reasoning behind these uprisings? Did the other creatures hate the Dark Elves so much that to see them in power and thriving, made them want to plunge the entire nation back into war? It seemed that way to Valok, what other reason could there be to incite such violence in a time of great peace.

The return of humans to Avalia marked a great change, surely a great battle was upon the horizon. Such an act of treason against The Great King could not be ignored. Shortly after their return was announced he was one of many sent out to help squash the notion of rebellion and see to it that the humans and the traitors were brought to justice. He marched with the legion he had been assigned to into the village of Chesm. Val had never left Daka before, he had never seen the great forests that existed to the south and found their beauty captivating. In comparison to the rest of Avalia, he now saw Daka as the near barren wasteland that it was, and felt more deeply the injustice against the Dark Elves at having to be banished to such a place. The beauty of Moon Elf Kingdom was marred by the horror he both witnessed and participated in once they arrived at Chesm. They did more than ransack the city looking for humans; they slaughtered and maimed all who got in their way.

Valok held no love for anyone, but certainly not for Demihumans and Light Elves who called Chesm home. Humans, while he held an indifference towards them in general, were a threat to The Great King, and had to be dealt with. This he could understand, killing had to be done, but the death delivered in Chesm was not a swift one. Torture was made a specitcle for both Dark Elves and Chesm residence alike. His people cheered while the rest cried out in utter horror. Those who harboured the human were tormented for days, as was anyone caught trying to help them, slow public executions that went on and on. It was cruelty for the sake of being cruel. It went on even after the human was tortured and found to have no knowledge of others like her in the area.

Was this why others so hated the Dark Elves? Did so many of his brethren allow themselves to become so absolutely monstrous when given the chance? Those who tortured did so with a sickening smile, they enjoyed it. Was this what the army sought to make of him? How did they manage to hide such wickedness from Aklenroth? Val was certain the Great King could not know of what his army had devolved into, as such actions would only ignite more resistance. Leaders within his king’s own army were actively making matters worse, and such things needed to be brought to the attention of his king. There was a problem with this, for who would believe the word of one of Daka’s unwanted sons against that of high ranking nobles? Valok would need evidence to back up his claims.

What would be worse; to become a foul deserter for the sake of achieving a greater good or to continue to follow the orders of commanders whose actions could threaten the peace The Great King so desires? This question haunted every quiet moment he had until he found his answer. He would not allow himself to become as cruel as those who he watched torture for their enjoyment of it, he would not allow a this threat to peace to continue. Valok deserted the army, he left behind the only identity he ever held, knowing that such an act even done with good intentions would be punished by death. At least in death his service would be only to the king, and not to those who pervert his wishes to fit their twisted inclinations. As terrifying as becoming undead is to him, becoming an agent of nothing but self service and cruelty would be even worse. Val cannot even imagine his king to be one who holds such a flawed character that he would wish his army to behave in such a manner. He can only hold on to the image of The Great King as the one presented to him as a child; a kind and just leader. He is now completely alone, without the only identity he ever held, and searching for a way to prove his claims to his king.

Special Ability: Erebokinesis
Greatest Strength: Combat Magic | Greatest Weakness: Light and Fire Magic

Combat and Magic:
Physical Strengths:

Quick reflexes and lack of hesitation
Stealth
Magic use in combat

Physical Weaknesses:

Light Magic/Fire Magic, both natural enemies of darkness
Lacking in pure brute strength
Young with very limited experience with beings outside of Daka

Best Abilities:

Blending into the shadows, something a well trained dark elf can do fairly easily on a dark night, and summoning his blade, a sword of concentrated dark magic, and even a single cut can cause terrible pain.

Avalia

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Valok Grimmrot ⋆ 22 ⋆ Male ⋆ Dark Elf

Dark Necessities

---

Appearance

Height:

6’

Weight:

185lbs

Hair Color:

Coal black that begins to fade into an ash gray

Eye Color:

Bright orange embers that burn with the intensity of his ever watchful gaze

Skin Tone:

Pale gray, littered with scars

Brief Clothes Description:

Dresses almost exclusively in black, coats, shirts, pants, boots, ect, as dark clothing allows him to better blend into the shadows.

Loyal ⋆ Inquisitive ⋆ Dedicated ⋆ Intense

Psychology

Likes:

It would be difficult for Val to explain what exactly he does like about the world for he knows so little of it. His life has been one devoted to training to become a loyal soldier and nothing more. There is what he knows; training, hard work, and combat. To ask him if these are things that he likes would be difficult for him to say, he knows almost nothing else. There is, the occasional quiet moments alone where he gazes up into the night sky, at the moon and the stars and thinks about other worlds and other lives. If humans can be brought from another world, then what are other worlds like, what are the lives of those people like. He finds these moments peaceful and they almost make him smile, but these are not thoughts he would share with others. Dreams and curiosity are not things that should occupy a soldier’s mind, they have no use in battle, and Val fears these moments make him weak.

Dislikes:

With so little experience of anything outside his home and of Daka, Val dislikes all that he has been taught to hate. Light Elves who banished his people, the other, more celebrated races, that lifted no hand to aid them. The humans and rebel scum who fight against Aklenroth, the Great King, for they betray Avalia, and so these are the creatures he hates above all else. The rebellion is one to destroy all that Dark Elves have built for themselves, to cruelly force them back into the shadows and into poverty. Cowards, deserters, and traitors, for they shame Aklenroth with their despicable actions and weaken the Dark Elf forces. When it comes to simpler things Val lacks the diversity of experience to really have an opinion or the desire to form one. He eats what is provided for him and is thankful to have food at all. The weather makes no difference to him other than ways it might influence combat. He has no vices and partakes in no activity that will hinder his ability to serve the king. When it comes to relationships with others, there are allies or enemies, as that is the extent of his experience with others.

Above all things, there is one thing he cannot stomach, and that is cruelty for the sake of it. He can understand the need for bloodshed, that terrible things must sometimes be done in the name of keeping peace, but to torture someone simply for enjoyment or for vengeance is a line he has deemed uncrossable.

Fears:

Weakness in himself, his occasional quiet moments when he looks up at the stars and wonders, times his thoughts are questioning or curious, these are times he finds himself weak. He is a soldier of The Great King and his thoughts should always be of combat and of service.

His life as a soldier of Aklenroth is one that he knows will extend past his inevitable death, and becoming undead is both a fate he accepts and fears. Although taught that this is a great honor the empty eyes of the dead haunt him. He often wonders what that existence is like, if they feel anything,or if it’s a constant state of torment, and the question of which is worse; feeling nothing but agony or nothing at all.

The feeling of being afraid, something he is supposed to have grown out of, it was a huge part of his training to learn not to be afraid, but it still creeps in. He doesn’t know if others like him feel it too but he would never admit to it. The fact that he still feels fear, when it was supposed to be trained out of him, bothers him, for it reminds him that he has failed at living up to his expectations.

Sexuality:

Undetermined and of no consequence to him, he is of too low a class to be good breeding stock and romantic entanglements are a distraction to a good soldier.

Personality:

Valok is a quiet elf by nature, he takes things in, watches with intense curiosity and tries to learn. He speaks when necessary but in general keeps to himself. He does not wish to stand out amongst his fellow soldiers, to ask questions or show concern. He does like having others around, finding comfort in knowing he’s not alone while still enjoying the peace of the occasional quiet moment when he is alone. Val does not know what it means to be selfish. He was raised with the absolute belief and acceptance that his life belongs to The Great King; he is nothing more than his soldier and that his life does not even truly belong to him. He has never truly owned anything, everything he has was issued to him and his life is one of servitude for the debt that all Dark Elves owe to Aklenroth. While there are many who would see him as cruel, he sees himself as a faithful soldier. He follows his orders, trusts his commanders and his king, and what he is asked to do is for the betterment of Avalia. He does not kill for the enjoyment of it, he will end his enemy quickly so that they do not suffer and what he does, he does because it must be done. As far as protecting others that is something he does when commanded but those like him, his fellow soldiers, they are all disposable, just as he is, and his orders and his mission always come before any single life. That was how he was raised, how he was trained, and he knows no other way.

Val was raised from birth to be a soldier, he has never had family or personal connections, this is the only life he has ever known. While he shows no fear in battle to call him brave would be incorrect, for he has nothing to lose, even his life is not his. After death he will still serve Aklenroth as an undead, this he also accepts. Though he does still feel fear it has never held him back from action. There are two things that matter; following his orders and continuing Dark Elf prosperity. The blood in his veins runs almost as cold as the air of Daka, he rarely loses his temper, and violence is saved for when it must be done. His patience, his calmness, his seemingly complete apathy all come from his hollowness. A faint notion that something in his life is wrong but a lack of understanding for what exactly it is, he can only chalk it up to his own imperfections, that there is some failing in him preventing him from being a better soldier. Because serving his people and Aklenroth should be enough for him, this has always been his purpose, and his hope is that once he has lived up to his full potential the hollowness will leave him.

As a member of the lowest class of Dark Elves, Val is trained as just a basic soldier. He was taught no battle tactics or strategy, he knows he will never be some great commander. He was raised to be on the front lines, the cannon fodder, the disposable, and his death and the deaths of those like him only fuel the army of undead. There was no time wasted in educating him, he learned the basics of his history; hatred of Light Elves, Faires, and Demihumans, and the stories of Aklenroth, The Great King, celebrated hero of the Dark Elves. He learned to do as he was told and to not ask questions. He is, however, observant and intensely curious. Valok has seen so little of the world and often wonders about all the places he’s never been and of other worlds that must surely exist. He lacks charisma, his tone is often soft and emotionless, echoing his own hollowness. Manipulating people is not a skill for a weapon, but the skill of leaders and so it is not something that would ever occur to him. Jokes are quickly lost on him, and rarely makes any attempts at humor. Some may find his loyalty and dedication to a Lich insane; he kills his enemies with no hesitation, fights with no thought or hope for himself, and even accepts that one day his corpse will be used in an undead army. But Valok was never given a choice in his life, he has simply accepted his circumstances and lived with them.

Dedication ⋆ Perseverance ⋆ Violence

Disposable Heroes

Background

Occupation

Soldier, or at least he was, now he is less than nothing, a deserter, the most vile of traitors.

Living Immediate Family Members:

Unknown

Dead Immediate Family Members:

Unknown

Current Companions:

None

Current and Past Lover(s):

None

Are you a loner or with a group? Have you always been in this place?:

Val has both rarely spent a moment alone and has in many ways, always been alone. Currently he is more alone than he has ever been before.

History:
As an infant Valok was sold to the army to be trained as a soldier, he never knew his parents or of any family. He is without attachments raised solely to fight and die for The Great King. He was never told why he was sold off; could’ve been his parents owed a great debt or it could have been that he was simply unwanted, but Val does not waste time dwelling on such matters. He was not raised to think, but to fight. His life has always been one of strict order and discipline. All moments of his young life were scheduled down to the second, when he woke up, when he ate, when he trained, and when he rested. His schedule was grueling, keeping him exhausted, far too exhausted to think about his circumstances even if he had any interest in them to begin with. All his life he has been taught that he does not matter; he is but one of many soldiers who fight not for their own glory but for that of Aklenroth and to continue the age of prosperity for Dark Elves.

Even his surname is not his own, but the name of one of many schools that exists for the sole purpose of turning out disposable soldiers for the king. He has no name to pass on, no family ties to bind him down, no legacy to protect or further. Instead he has just a single shared goal with every other graduate of Grimmrots; to serve the king. For Aklenroth is the great savior of the Dark Elves, it was he who unshackled them from the oppression of Light Elves, he who brought them power and prosperity, and he who was the only ruler in all of Avalia’s dark history who ever cared about the plight of the Dark Elves. Like any Dark Elf loyalist, Val sees his king as both a hero and a fair and just leader. It is the rebels who wish to turn back time and return the Dark Elves to poverty and mistreatment, and thus they can only be seen by him as villains.

Grimmrots was his home for the majority of his life, he grew up there, trained there, learned there. From the second he was able he was trained to fight, both with weapons and with magic. His dark abilities have always been a part of him, his people take pride in being gifted by the night. There was no goofing around, no days off, no time to make friends as a soldier needed none of those things. He worked hard, he learned discipline, and any failure in this was punished harshly. Wake up, train, eat, chores, train, eat, rest. The schedule repeated endlessly. Val took comfort in the schedule, he knew what he was supposed to do and where he had to be, he didn’t have time or energy left to worry about anything else. Those who did not take to this kind of life were made an example of; weakness was not tolerated. He learned how to face fear, how to bear pain, and how to kill. Once he was old enough, he was shipped off to The Pits, just as every other graduate of Grimmrots, to experience true combat.

The Pits held a similar schedule and he adjusted quickly. He then put his training to use, fighting for his life in gladiatorial combat while others watched and occasionally cheered. Some of his comrades in the Pits enjoyed the killing and the cheering of a crowd, Val did it because he was good at it. This was the experience he needed to become a true soldier, killing was how he would serve his people and his King, and he was raised for service. He fought monsters and killed other Dark Elves branded as cowards, deserters, or simply as weak. What or who he killed did not concern him, his orders were to win and he followed through. Once he was deemed worthy, just as many before him, he was sent to serve in Aklenroth’s army. He was loyal, obedient, and well trained.

After his time in The Pits he was moved to Malthemoor, where he continued training under the harshest of conditions. Like steel he was strengthened, taught how to serve in the army and what to do when the more detestable races of Avalia got ideas of uprisings. It would seem keeping Avalia in peace was even more work than war could be, the constancy in which a small uprising would occur made no sense to him. So many of Avalia’s subjects seemed to hunger for violence; had Aklenroth not brought them all peace, unified them, brought a new age of unparalleled prosperity? What was the reasoning behind these uprisings? Did the other creatures hate the Dark Elves so much that to see them in power and thriving, made them want to plunge the entire nation back into war? It seemed that way to Valok, what other reason could there be to incite such violence in a time of great peace.

The return of humans to Avalia marked a great change, surely a great battle was upon the horizon. Such an act of treason against The Great King could not be ignored. Shortly after their return was announced he was one of many sent out to help squash the notion of rebellion and see to it that the humans and the traitors were brought to justice. He marched with the legion he had been assigned to into the village of Chesm. Val had never left Daka before, he had never seen the great forests that existed to the south and found their beauty captivating. In comparison to the rest of Avalia, he now saw Daka as the near barren wasteland that it was, and felt more deeply the injustice against the Dark Elves at having to be banished to such a place. The beauty of Moon Elf Kingdom was marred by the horror he both witnessed and participated in once they arrived at Chesm. They did more than ransack the city looking for humans; they slaughtered and maimed all who got in their way.

Valok held no love for anyone, but certainly not for Demihumans and Light Elves who called Chesm home. Humans, while he held an indifference towards them in general, were a threat to The Great King, and had to be dealt with. This he could understand, killing had to be done, but the death delivered in Chesm was not a swift one. Torture was made a specitcle for both Dark Elves and Chesm residence alike. His people cheered while the rest cried out in utter horror. Those who harboured the human were tormented for days, as was anyone caught trying to help them, slow public executions that went on and on. It was cruelty for the sake of being cruel. It went on even after the human was tortured and found to have no knowledge of others like her in the area.

Was this why others so hated the Dark Elves? Did so many of his brethren allow themselves to become so absolutely monstrous when given the chance? Those who tortured did so with a sickening smile, they enjoyed it. Was this what the army sought to make of him? How did they manage to hide such wickedness from Aklenroth? Val was certain the Great King could not know of what his army had devolved into, as such actions would only ignite more resistance. Leaders within his king’s own army were actively making matters worse, and such things needed to be brought to the attention of his king. There was a problem with this, for who would believe the word of one of Daka’s unwanted sons against that of high ranking nobles? Valok would need evidence to back up his claims.

What would be worse; to become a foul deserter for the sake of achieving a greater good or to continue to follow the orders of commanders whose actions could threaten the peace The Great King so desires? This question haunted every quiet moment he had until he found his answer. He would not allow himself to become as cruel as those who he watched torture for their enjoyment of it, he would not allow a this threat to peace to continue. Valok deserted the army, he left behind the only identity he ever held, knowing that such an act even done with good intentions would be punished by death. At least in death his service would be only to the king, and not to those who pervert his wishes to fit their twisted inclinations. As terrifying as becoming undead is to him, becoming an agent of nothing but self service and cruelty would be even worse. Val cannot even imagine his king to be one who holds such a flawed character that he would wish his army to behave in such a manner. He can only hold on to the image of The Great King as the one presented to him as a child; a kind and just leader. He is now completely alone, without the only identity he ever held, and searching for a way to prove his claims to his king.

Special Ability: Erebokinesis
Greatest Strength: Combat Magic | Greatest Weakness: Light and Fire Magic

Combat and Magic:
Physical Strengths:

Quick reflexes and lack of hesitation
Stealth
Magic use in combat

Physical Weaknesses:

Light Magic/Fire Magic, both natural enemies of darkness
Lacking in pure brute strength
Young with very limited experience with beings outside of Daka

Best Abilities:

Blending into the shadows, something a well trained dark elf can do fairly easily on a dark night, and summoning his blade, a sword of concentrated dark magic, and even a single cut can cause terrible pain.

Avalia

Time: Evening
Location: Roshmi City
Interactions: Risa @princess

Cade froze for a moment as the royal blooded fairy pet the fur on his paw like hand. Had his dance partner been anyone else, anyone without a royal bloodline that he held in the highest regards, his reaction would have been a very different one. However, circumstances being what they were, Cade stifled any outburst at both being referred to as ‘fluffy’ and being petted, though his tail flicked with annoyance. He did not normally allow strangers to pet him based on their whims, for he was no creatures pet. Instead, Cade focused on her words, for the honor of speaking to royalty was a great one and he would try not to waste it. She had asked him for his name, and for a moment he forgot it, standing speechless at the thought that a member of true royalty would now know his name. For the time being his name carried no weight, he was yet to become the great warrior he aspired to, but one day he dreamed of being someone worth remembering.

“I am Cadence of a Thunderstorm, but many simply call me Cade.” He spoke his name proudly, mirroring none of the humbleness Risa held when she had shared her own name. “And my people believe in the power of names and of heritage, and your family name, Princess Risa, holds a great deal of power. A name that sparks hope, and that is powerful weapon against darkness. The fairies I have met speak great things about you, and you do not disappoint.” Cade added. It did not feel right to address the fairy only as Risa even if she had introduced herself that way, even to use her first name almost sounded wrong. Cade still found himself at a loss for words, what else could say to a royal that would hold any interest, he was just a simple cat. What he did know was that all fairies he had meet before enjoyed a good dance, so he focused on that, taking the opportunity to raise their entangled hands up and gently spin Risa. He continued to focus on the dancing, not wanting to make any mistakes that would make himself look bad in front of a princess. Cade kept an easy smile despite his nervousness, for he was dancing with great royalty. He wondered if things were as Artemis had suggested, and that right now perhaps it was his mother that was smiling down on him. If she was, this moment would have made her very proud.

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Evening
Location: Ember Grove University-Art Exhibit
Interaction with: Angel@princess, Remy@masterducky

Eli held back from the witch and redheaded hunter once he saw the other hunter let up some. Whatever they were discussing fell under the category of not his business now as long as the conversation didn’t escalate. He wasn’t here to piss off other hunters, and didn’t want to allow himself to be distracted the way he had earlier. With two more werewolves entering the exhibit, he certainly couldn’t afford to place his attention anywhere else. He hoped they were with the wolf who’d helped inside because where vampires who actively killed innocent people were a pretty obvious call, putting down a werewolf was a much more difficult matter, both physically and mentally. In his limited experience, werewolves didn’t really kill for fun, they were mostly people who occasionally had trouble with control. The wolf whose red eyes that indicated she was an alpha was clearly in control, but the other one let out a frightening howl.

The red head passed by him with a quick ‘your right,’ before attacking another vampire, and he noted that she killed like she was built for it. She had the same distant and cold presence that the majority of other hunters he’d come across carried. Holy Saviors, of course, were a bit of a different story, but the inviting friendliness they had was nothing more than a convincing lie. Coldness was not exactly conducive to cult recruitment. He understood the chilly aura of other hunters for what it was, a means of self-preservation. He took a quick glance back to check on the witch but she was long gone. A shame as he had meant to thank her for whatever spell she’d cast earlier that had prevented him from being killed.

He watched carefully as the alpha wolf moved towards the large wolf who had let out the howl that shook the ceiling. He moved slowly towards the redhead and the child, not wanting to make any sudden movements that could startle a werewolf. ”So is the wolf pack with you or should I be worried that it might be past their dinner time?” He asked the other hunter, keeping his voice low so as not to worry the hat stealing child that was with her. He had a clip with silver bullets in his pocket but did not want to grab the gun from its holster to switch the ammo out, he didn’t want to do anything that might provoke the wolves. ”Hey tiny hat thief, you know I have it on good authority that Santa’s always watching and he doesn’t like to see stealing.” Eli said, addressing the kid with a half hearted attempt at a serious tone. It wasn’t like he could actually be all that mad with a vampire killing, werewolf riding, child. Even if she was a thief, that would just be silly.

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Night
Location: McDonalds
Interaction with: Adrian @role model

Noah tilted his head and laughed at Adrian’s words, ‘bone her,’ as if he would be interested in such a mortal desire. He knew Adrian to be old, much older than he, and wondered how, and why, the other vampire seemed to remain so stuck on base human desires. Drinking coffee, looking for cheap hook ups, and even the strange obsession and pride the vampire had with his truck; all of these things were far too human to hold any interest with Noah. Noah had once known the absolute rapture of pain and torment so complete it became pleasure. Sex, when compared to such a thing, was just as meaningless as any other boring human pleasure. There was only one vampire that he held any interest in beyond what they could do for him, and that was his sire. A deeply ingrained obsession that fueled all of his goals, his need to be powerful, to earn approval from older vampires, to fully rid himself of humanity, he did it all for Celeste. Noah would prove himself worthy of her gift, she had freed him from mortal life, from his imprisonment as a bloodbag, and he would earn his place by her side. All he needed to do was push himself beyond all sense of humanity, become a perfect monster, a flawless vampire. The old one he met at the pit was not vampiric perfection, and she would not be of any help to him in his goals.

They trip to find the hunters proved fruitless; they were long gone by the time they arrived. Noah was angry and hungry and now there were no hunters for him to play with. Once they were back in Adrian’s truck the vampire offered him a blunt. Noah could hear his parent’s lectures on ‘just say no’ in the back of his head, and it almost made him want to try it, just to spite their memory. But he simply shook his head no, he didn’t want anything that would calm him, Noah did not want to be mellow, he wanted to kill something. “I have no interest in the old one, she is a dull and fading cinder when compared to the raging inferno that is my sire.” Noah said as Adrian once again brought up the vampire they had met earlier. “But I’m beginning to think she interests you, Adrian. Getting lonely in your age? Looking for someone to reminisce about the time before lightbulbs and telephones?” Noah asked, playfully taunting the other vampire. He kept a watchful gaze out the window, looking for any sign of the hunters but the few people he saw all looked just as boring as the rest of the prey that spent their nights at The Pit.

For some reason Adrian brought him to a McDonalds, a place where the prey smelled like fryer grease. Noah didn’t care for the way grease soaked into his prey’s skin and made their blood tasted like old French fries. He didn’t understand the reasoning for a vampire to desire things like coffee or food, these were just remnants of things mortals required to stay alive. Vampires were evolved beyond such thing. “Coffee? Why? Noah said as he watched the building, there were very few cars there, maybe only a handful of people inside. If the hunters were gone, then maybe a small fast food place would be a close second for where to unleash his bloodlust. “Hey have you ever dunked a bloodbag in a deep fryer? Cause I haven’t. I wonder if they’d taste burnt.” Noah laughed as he thought about it.

Ember Grove - Reboot

Time: Night
Location: The Pit
Interaction with: Ava@Pink Khione, Adrian @role model

Her words about stupidity reminded him of the quotes his father used to write on the white board that hung on the refrigerator, ‘words of wisdom,’ his father had called them. All spoken by people who were long dead, and Noah put no stock in the wisdom of dead men. He did, however, care very much about the opinions of the undead. He was pretty sure she had just called both he, and Adrian, stupid before following such a statement with a vague threat. Did she actually feed from other vampires? Such a thought was beyond disgusting to Noah. While he had respect for those with age and power, he would not be insulted in front of his friend without returning the jab. He could not afford to be so young and look weak in front of the other vampires in his clan.

“Is that a threat? Now that would be very stupid, because here you stand all alone, while we stand with the clan who truly controls this town. How sad, to be in a new town all alone…” Noah taunted the older vampire while from the corner of his eye he saw the human who smelled of blood with another who had the hunger in her eyes that only his kind ever got. “Say, wasn’t he supposed to yours?” Noah asked gesturing towards the human with his head and grinning. He backed away slowly, keeping up with Adrian as he left as well, his friend much less interested in the strange vampire than he was. Noah didn’t really want a fight with the older vampire, but he knew better than to turn his back on one who might be an enemy. He waited until they had moved far into the crowd and she was out of his vision before turning around to better follow Adrian.

Noah was more than happy to leave with Adrian, the club had pulled to surface too many remnants of his humanity and he craved violence to forget that life once again. He pulled the ear plugs from his ears and tossed them in parking lot before climbing into the truck. He realized he’d forgotten to tell his friends he was leaving but decided he didn’t really want to share this kill anyway. If there was anyone who could keep Noah tapped into his evil nature, it was Adrian. He starred out the window as the car sped through town, towards where ever the hunters where. Noah shrugged as Adrian asked who the other vampire was, realizing that he hadn’t actually learned her name.

“Don’t know, but I saw her compel a human to near perfection. She wouldn’t share her secret though, ah well, it’s more fun when the bloodbags try to fight back right?” Noah said disguising his disappointment. He doubted the other vampire would be of any help now, and since she didn’t seem to know any witches either he wasn’t too interested in her at the moment. His mind had moved on the hunters, and his hopes that they’d prove more useful than the witches from earlier and the unhelpful vampire at the club. “Did you get a good look at them? Did they have crosses on like the ones who look for witches?’ Noah asked, now interested in killing, feeding, and finding Drake’s lost pet. Whether or these hunter’s were witch hunters or not, Noah had already decided he wanted to torture them some, just in case they had any useful information for him.