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He walked in total darkness although he could see clearly. He walked in the crisp cold night although he could not feel it's bite.
The waves crashed against the rocks below and the salty spray drifted on the winds to dampen the trail along the cliff side.
He was close now. Sestra. He could see the flickering of torchlight though the fog and sense the pressure of magical warding pushing against him.
Almost as if they were expecting him. The pressure was growing intolerable. He stops and fishing around in his cloak's pockets pulls out a dried human child's femur. He spits out a prayer to the Black Lord and snaps the bone between his fingers before crushing it in his fist and throwing the fragments to the wind. A sharp stab of hate fills him from within and the pressure falls away. He smiles and licks his over sized canine teeth and strides the few steps forward into the light.
The guard, cloak pulled tightly around her against the howling wind does not notice him standing there silently for a few too many precious seconds.
As she turns, she gasps in a flash of recognition and fumbles for her holy symbol hanging around her neck. She manages to raise it partially before her face and stutters a word before their eyes lock. Then the fear in her face fades and her hand numbly drops the symbol to clink against her armor. Her war bow clatters to the cobblestones as a smile spreads across her face and she opens her arms to him welcoming his embrace.
Clive hisses, "Get rid of it now!"
With no hesitation, she takes the leather thong from which her god's symbol is hanging and tosses it into the night and somewhere into the sea below.
"Come."
They fade into mists.
Back at the Citadel.
"A woman's weeping echoes along the stone halls as her undead guardians drag her by the arms along the corridors. Up they climb a spiral staircase, past the more populated areas of the massive stone structure. Total darkness and silence except for the clatter of bones and the slapping sound of the womans bare feet against the stone floor. Suddenly in the inky darkness, the undead clatter to a stop and soft light illuminates the struggling figures as a door opens to the left.
The woman is thrown roughly to the feet of a figure of shadow dressed in flowing black and red robes. The undead guards leave and close the door behind them with a dull thud.
The woman looks up in horror as the vampire leans forward in his chair.
"Welcome to my study." I am really looking forward to your company tonight." Clive snaps his fangs with a loud click and a laughs.
Shrieking, the womans cowers back against the wall and attempts to cover her scraped and bruised body with her arms.
"You dressed appropriately for the occasion I see."
Clive sneers at the shivering female.
"I do not want you to think me a poor host. Have a drink, a superb vintage from House Colibrus itself." "You should feel honored." Clive motions to the goblet sitting next to his elbow on the marble table.
A flapping of leathery wings and a flash of talons explode from a dark corner and Clive leaps from his chair and swats a black creature from the air and it's intended target.
"No! She is mine! You will wait your turn Ul'zilvif!"
The imp squawks a curse and shuffles back into the shadows of the room.
The woman is sobbing in terror as Clive with a kind smile steps over to her and extends a hand.
"Hush now it will be just fine." he whispers as he takes her by the hand and pulls her to her feet."
The waves crashed against the rocks below and the salty spray drifted on the winds to dampen the trail along the cliff side.
He was close now. Sestra. He could see the flickering of torchlight though the fog and sense the pressure of magical warding pushing against him.
Almost as if they were expecting him. The pressure was growing intolerable. He stops and fishing around in his cloak's pockets pulls out a dried human child's femur. He spits out a prayer to the Black Lord and snaps the bone between his fingers before crushing it in his fist and throwing the fragments to the wind. A sharp stab of hate fills him from within and the pressure falls away. He smiles and licks his over sized canine teeth and strides the few steps forward into the light.
The guard, cloak pulled tightly around her against the howling wind does not notice him standing there silently for a few too many precious seconds.
As she turns, she gasps in a flash of recognition and fumbles for her holy symbol hanging around her neck. She manages to raise it partially before her face and stutters a word before their eyes lock. Then the fear in her face fades and her hand numbly drops the symbol to clink against her armor. Her war bow clatters to the cobblestones as a smile spreads across her face and she opens her arms to him welcoming his embrace.
Clive hisses, "Get rid of it now!"
With no hesitation, she takes the leather thong from which her god's symbol is hanging and tosses it into the night and somewhere into the sea below.
"Come."
They fade into mists.
Back at the Citadel.
"A woman's weeping echoes along the stone halls as her undead guardians drag her by the arms along the corridors. Up they climb a spiral staircase, past the more populated areas of the massive stone structure. Total darkness and silence except for the clatter of bones and the slapping sound of the womans bare feet against the stone floor. Suddenly in the inky darkness, the undead clatter to a stop and soft light illuminates the struggling figures as a door opens to the left.
The woman is thrown roughly to the feet of a figure of shadow dressed in flowing black and red robes. The undead guards leave and close the door behind them with a dull thud.
The woman looks up in horror as the vampire leans forward in his chair.
"Welcome to my study." I am really looking forward to your company tonight." Clive snaps his fangs with a loud click and a laughs.
Shrieking, the womans cowers back against the wall and attempts to cover her scraped and bruised body with her arms.
"You dressed appropriately for the occasion I see."
Clive sneers at the shivering female.
"I do not want you to think me a poor host. Have a drink, a superb vintage from House Colibrus itself." "You should feel honored." Clive motions to the goblet sitting next to his elbow on the marble table.
A flapping of leathery wings and a flash of talons explode from a dark corner and Clive leaps from his chair and swats a black creature from the air and it's intended target.
"No! She is mine! You will wait your turn Ul'zilvif!"
The imp squawks a curse and shuffles back into the shadows of the room.
The woman is sobbing in terror as Clive with a kind smile steps over to her and extends a hand.
"Hush now it will be just fine." he whispers as he takes her by the hand and pulls her to her feet."