Mortim — Roleplayer Guild

Alabaster spires swam into the ocean above, their absurd size and solid structure supported an even larger building of inconceivable heights. Vast flowing curtains, swayed by the capricious breeze, felt their way into unclotted space. They moved into the building which now housed Dragniast and North, attached to some unbreakable rod which lay unseen in the heavens above supported by those ivory pillars. No end lay in sight when measuring this single room, marble and its polished surface was the only substance by which it was composed. North had carved the largest mountain found into a mansion which could only be matched by deities and their infinite housing. Light spilled in from the drapes which nearly reached them, umbral rays of peaceful moonlight softly stroking their two elegant forms.
Dragniast sat in his seat across from North, twelve feet between them. He looked as though he had sat in that literally priceless chair for many years, his body gradually shaping into that of an entirely composed statue. Beauty would be the only word to describe such picturesque form whilst holding a wine glass which lazily tipped inward to face one such young contractor.

North, should it even be considered possible, looked of an insurmountable amount in folds greater when it came to elegance and reposse. His body was sculpted to utter perfection, each inch of those mysteriously threaded raiments gave birth to muses that could only be channeled by our most talented artists. Luckily shadow coated most every facial feature or words might find trouble in describing such graciously provided allure.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

North spoke, each syllable giving luminance to this world which dulled in his presence. Dragniast opened his mouth to rep-......

*Thump! Thump! Thump!*

Said chime gave another repast, our young contractor opening his eyes in an attempt to give his surroundings an imagined form. “Y’ finally ‘wake!?” Were the words of Dragniasts wagon-pilot, the farmer which had just roused one such powerful vampire from his oddly placed day-dream. “Y-yes, I am.” One stutter would be the only fault openly found between each elegant step of Dragniasts for weeks. He was one who had been drilled etiquette for more than a century, letting it slip even once was practically unforgivable.

“W’ll good, l’be off then!”
“I am grateful.”
“Anytime Lad!”

Hardly put off by those amethyst eyes which plagued our tainted twilight air the farmer stepped back into his wagon as Dragniast stepped out. *Creeaaak!!* The wagon began moving as its rapidly aging horse groaned in protest, soon clomping down the trail towards Andruin, the nearest town full of farmers and simple merchants.

*CAAAW!!* One nearby crow offered both ambiance and unneeded resonance to an already looming graveyard full of tombstones and crumbling mausoleums. ‘No time for dreams Undertaker.. There is another fowl presence which needs to be cleansed.’ Dragniast mentally scolded himself for losing sight of the lucid world. What was that sensation anyways? To be overtaken by visions of the past or fanciful worlds which fulfilled our secret desires. At one point he had felt this before… so many years had passed. What was it called? Sleep! Ah yes! Sleep! ‘No! Focus!’ He shouted inwardly whilst taking his first step towards the decrepit tomb entrance before him.

Large cracks ran through poorly molded cement, the thought of entering this place without it already having caved in appeared doomed. Even with these things in mind Dragniast walked confidently forward, his utterly aloof expression made him look more-so lost than belonging.

He wore plain clothes: greyish cloth leggings, black t-shirt, ebony dress-shoes, and a large coat which reached all the way to his ankles. The trench coat was darker than most fabrics, and rather than being adorned by furs along it neck-cuff and ankle-length bottom, it was utterly rimmed by raven-feathers. The truly noble and expensive looking article was in fact his coat, though he wore it so simply that most might think it had lost its value and was not to be stolen or that this man was far too rich for any dirty hands to even touch his smooth pale skin.

“Come iiiinn…” Croaked one dark and sinister voice once our protagonist had reached the entrance to this crypt. Torches were set alight by green, poisonous fire throughout each hallway.

*Tap, tap, tap-*

One purely rhythmic cadence followed behind Dragniast as his coat flowed indecisively about even without the presence of a breeze. “Yooouuu aarree so verry cleaaaan..” Bantered that foul voice again. Though it spoke truth, he was incredibly clean and composed. Not one speck of dirt could be found even on the rims of his shoes.

“I’ll enjoooyyy eeaating you whhollee…”

Those words hardly caused Dragniast deterrence, once more descending another flight of stairs. Before long he had reached the final room, its crumbling walls and ancient ceiling expressed further the decay within its corrupted master.

“Time fffoor yoouur deaattthhh ssswwwiiiinnee, I wwii-”

The beast had reared upwards, its shadowy form letting loose tendrils of darkness. Foul smoke seeped from its unnaturally large jaw as the beast grew to be greater than ten feet tall. Just before it could finish its sentence Dragniast spoke.

“Cease your prattle.”

*Thud!*

And with those words, one practically invisible thread lopped the beasts head from its shoulders in one small and perfectly hidden twitch of the finger. To anyone watching, Dragniast hadn’t even moved whilst the beast was suddenly decapitated.

“Dwell here for eternity and never return to the surface.”

Our contractor then raised his hand in one smooth motion, flexing his wrist as an invisible wall of vapor flew from his feathered sleeve and collided with the crypts infrastructure. *BOOM!*

Slowly, everything began to break. Dragniast casually walked from the crypt at the same pace he had arrived. Small steps gave contrast to this crumbling world around him. Just as said Undertaker exited the entire structure gave one massive gust of murky air which billowed from the once open entrance as a last sign of that dark beings protest.

Dragniast wished for nothing more in this moment than to stand between tombstones and contemplate what his recent bouts of… sleep I believe its called, could possibly mean. Though the ring on his left hand offered faint violet luminescence between frequent trembling. Something had just awoken, something dark which need not exist in this world. He now had another contract to complete, and he wouldn’t rest until his unwitnessed opponent was sent straight into the fiery abyss.

“Rune barrier… hmm.”

Perhaps if this powerful vampire attempted with all his might to break past this translucent wall presented he could clear one reasonable path. Though said means are entirely inelegant and utterly brash, he felt flustered for even considering the option. Perhaps more subtle means would be demanded.

Small waves of fog collided with the barrier, being instantly shocked and pushed away by powerful magics. This would continue to occur in a widening radius and growing height until noticed. These fogs did nothing to damage the barrier or expand much of its energy, simply to arouse light and suspicion so that whomever controlled this impasse could allow access. His ring was trembling, meaning that the beast was in this area or had been recently. He would hunt after establishing lodgings and local connections.

((If you made it this far, sorry for the wall of text. I really just didn't want to shorten my intro post. This is ALWAYS the longest, so don't expect another short story when next I post xD))

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