Thread: Vampires and Gods

Part 2:

On his way to the forest, he came across a small girl with auburn hair, sitting on a rock, crying. He wandered over to the girl and crouched down next to her.

“Hey there, little girl, what’s wrong?”

The girl looked up at him, tears streaming down her face,

“My papa is m-missing, Mr. Elf.” He smiles,

“You’re awful polite. You must have good parents.” She sniffles a bit, and then nods.

“They are trying to teach me to take over my uncle’s business.” Drune pats her on the back,

“Fascinating. Say, where was your father last seen?”

She points roughly in the same direction he was headed, confirming what the old hunter said.

“He said he was going out to chop wood, but never came back,” the little girl suddenly flings herself onto him, sobbing.

”Please, Mr. Elf, if you find him, bring him back.” He nods,

“All right. May I get the name of the fair lady who calls upon my services?”

The girl tries to cover up a giggle,

“Abigail. May I have your name, sir knight?”

Drune stands up and ruffles her hair,

“Drune Silentarrow, now take care, fair maiden, I am off to find your father.”

As he headed towards the woods, Abigail stood there, waving.

The dusk light cast a glowing hue on the leaves of the forest, as if it was a lingering gift before the sun settled for the night. Drune crept through the forest with skill and grace, barely disturbing the animals that inhabited the forest. Slowly the light faded and the night creatures started stirring. Almost like a living shadow, he crept through the forest, tree to tree, shadow to shadow. As the night grew deep, he became tired, not used to being up so late. Suddenly, he stopped. He felt a chill, going down his spine. Drune turned around slowly, drawing his rapier and dagger, while taking in his surroundings. He heard another rustle, louder this time and quickly turned to face it. Nothing. All of a sudden, a figure rushed at him from the right, too quickly to turn. The figure crashed into him and he slammed into a tree, his rapier spinning off and sticking into a nearby tree. A vice-like grip encompassed him, squeezing his breath out. She whispered into his ear,

“You look scrumptious, little elf. Soon you shall be mine.”

The voice was that of a human, but with a slight, breathy, hissing. Drune realized his dagger hand was free and drove the blade into his attacker. A loud screech came from his attacker that quickly became a laugh. He watched in disbelief as the wound he just created healed, with out leaving a mark. “Silly, you can’t kill me with a normal weapon, I am a vampire.” With that, she quickly bent over and bit down on his neck, causing him to gasp in pain. At first, the pain was overwhelming, then swiftly dulled. Drune’s struggles got weaker by the second, his vision blackening around the edges. He struggled to stay conscious, but it was useless. Slowly, the darkness creped upon him, until it, inevitably, over-took him.

Free, he felt so free. A brilliant light appeared above him and a feminine elfin voice beckoned him towards it. He started moving upwards then felt tugging. He looked down there was a black tangled thing below him, reaching upwards from his body, wrapping its way around his astral form. He struggled, but no matter what, he could not escape the darkness. As the tendrils were about to cover him completely he started to struggle even more. As Drune was thrashing about, he managed to tear a wisp of the black tendrils off. He watched as the wisp slowly drifted off, dissolving as it went. He noticed as his vision was getting covered, little tendrils of himself managed to slip through, here and there. Drune slowly felt himself slowly dragged down, forced back into his body. Darkness was around him; whirling, seething, pulsing, slowly working its way into his body. He was dimly aware of the passing of time. Day, night, day, night, day, night.

Drune was shocked back to consciousness abruptly, all his senses kicking back in at once. Drune was shocked at first, as information came flooding in. He quickly recovered and got to his feet. He felt light, like he had just lost a lot of weight quickly. He looked around, surprised at the keenness of his vision. Strength flowed through is muscles. He laughed a little, he felt great. Everything seemed so easy now. Then Drune felt it. He dropped to his knees and clutched his stomach. The hunger. The hunger was terrible. He felt pain like none other, driving his most basic and primal urges to the surface, his vision blurring. Soon, he was lost in a flood of emotions and feelings, moving through the forest. Dimly aware, he heard a scream and he bit into something. A warm refreshing liquid flowed down his throat. He felt invigorated and the pain began to subside. Drune drank more and more, until the liquid stopped flowing. He began to calm down and his vision cleared. In his arms was the limp body of a young human woman, a look of horror on her face. She was covered in her own blood. Drune laid the woman down and looked around. He was surrounded by sparse ancient ruins. Mystic and forgotten symbols etched were into the few remaining rocks. Suddenly, white burning light surrounded him. His back arced from the pain, then he was frozen, burning bonds of white light encircled him. He screamed. A figure appeared in from of him. It was a tall, beautiful, middle-aged human; she was fit, as a warrior would be, and wore a sword on her side. She wore elegant cloths that were cut to allow all sorts of movement, as a dancer’s would be. She looked down at Drune.

“Vile beast. You have slain the last of my servants.” Her voice was smooth, yet powerful at the same time.

“I should strike you down, for you have doomed me. With none to worship me, I will fade away into nothing. Name one reason I shouldn’t obliterate you, vampire.”

Drune gasped, trying to get air for his words,

“Please, destroy me. I do not want to live the life of a vampire. If you let me go, I would surely go insane, longing for blood, yet wanting none. Strike me down as you see fit.”

The goddess bent over, a look of curiosity on her face.

“Odd, those are not the words of a vampire, but the words of a man trapped inside one.”

She reached out her hand, brushing it over his head. At first, there was burning, then a cool flow of refreshment.

“You are an anomaly. It seams that the curse of the vampire did not fully ensnare you. There may still be hope for you to return into the elf you once were.”

Drune felt elated,

“Really? What must I do? Name it and it shall be done.”

She smiled a cool smile,

“It is not as simple as it may seem. You must kill the vampire that turned you. If you need help, go to the local priestess. She will aid you. When you have killed her, I will come to you and heal you. However, be mindful. The murder you have committed will not be over looked. You WILL be punished.”

He nodded and, in an instance, was free. He looked around, slightly dazed. Drune looked around and realized that it was almost daylight. He quickly began running, letting his instincts guide him. Shortly he came upon a small crack in the side of a hill. He walked into the cave and looked around. All the details of the interior were clear to him; shadows were practically nonexistent. Looking around, Drune saw that the cave is not abandoned. There were a few odds and ends lying about; a pack was lying in the corner, a dagger and sword were leaning against the wall. He moved further into the cave, going down what seemed like a hall. As he came out of the hall, he heard the word,

“Stop.”

He stopped. His muscles seemed unwilling to respond. Slowly, his head turned. Drune saw a small human female, who had black hair and black, eyes standing there. She smiled at him and he saw her fangs.

“Vampire.” He said simply.

“Well,” said the female. “It seems you know your own kind. You must be that delicious little elf I turned a while ago. I didn’t think you would make the transformation. Most of those peasants burn up when the sun rises. Beanon, come here.”

She said this last part over her shoulder. A large man that appeared to have a bit of orc blood came into the room. He was at least half a head taller than Drune.

“Meet my newest toy.”

Beanon just grunted simply.

“Oh now, now. Don’t be jealous. I will still play with you.

Beanon said nothing this time, merely looking at Drune with a cold look. He turned and walked out of the room.

“Come, my new toy. Let’s get to know each other…”

Drune felt his muscles loosen, yet he couldn’t move away from her. It seemed her words had power over him. Killing her wouldn’t be easy. As she turned and walked to her bed, he felt an unexplainable pull towards her. He followed, unable to resist.

Part 3:

Drune lay there on her bed, wondering of a plan. He sat up and decided to pay the priestess a visit. He crept through the woods, the sun having just set. Tree to tree, shadow to shadow, he was like a living shadow. At the edges to the town, he stopped and pulled out the map the map from before. He slowly made his way around to the temple. It was a sad affair. It seemed more like a renovated barn, more than a temple. He quietly bade his way to the entrance. At first, he was unable to enter, then gradually he was able to force his way into the temple. He looked around for a bit, until he came to a small figure crouched down in prayer, her long golden hair cascading onto the floor. Slowly she rose and turned to him.

“I received a vision from my god. I know what you are, and why you have come. I will try to help you if I can.”

Drune looked at the small priestess. She seemed afraid. He didn’t blame her. He was a vampire, a demon of the night, master of undeath.

“Yes. I was told to come to you for help. Do you have anything that can kill a vampire? My weapons are ineffective.”

Slowly the priestess nodded,

“I can bless a weapon. It won’t be much, but enough to kill one vampire.”

He pulls a dagger out and hands it to her. She places it on the altar and brings a hand over it. Whispers of a prayer can be heard as a pale glow surrounds her hand. Seconds later, the dagger glows briefly and then fades. She picks up the dagger and hands it back to Drune.

“This will kill any vampire it strikes. Please, don’t die.”

She says the last part softly. She looks at him, tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Be strong. I know it must hurt badly at times. Kill the vampire and return to your normal self.”

He nodded and left the temple, the air felt it would crush him if he stayed much longer. It was almost dawn as he came up to the cave. Drune went into the cave and looked around for his mistress. He found her as he came into the room where he had originally found her. She sauntered up to him and caressed his face, then wrapped her arms around his neck. She whispered into his ear,

“Where have you been, my pet?

He took the blessed dagger and drove it into her side. She gasped and eyes flashed with a brief light as the magic worked its course. Her body slumped to the ground, lifeless and hollow. He stood there, looking at her body, and then he felt a burning sensation on his left arm.

“You are free from the curse of unlife. Now live your life, elf.”

It was the voice of the goddess. Drune looked at his left forearm. There was a brand of a sun, with a crook and sword crossed in front of it. He stood up, only to get smashed by a giant fist. Drune went sprawling. He looked up and saw Beanon standing there. Drune stood up and backed out of the cave slowly. Beanon picked up a broadsword and came towards Drune. He pulled out his two short swords and readied himself. Beanon was quick with the sword. Drune barely had any time to dodge his blows. Drune kept being backed up further and further until he was up against a large rock. He tired, lost one sword, than the other. Drune lay against the rock, bloody and bruised. Beanon raised the sword up and drove it into Drune’s midsection. Drune gasped. The pain was terrible. It was compounded by the fact that the sword had dug into the rock behind him, sending rock fragments into his back. Weakly he tried to pull the sword out, to no avail. Beanon leaned in to taunt Drune, but Drune saw a chance for himself. He grabbed Beanon and, with all his might, twisted Beanon. It was barely enough. Beanon stumbled back, and into a full ray of sunlight. He immediately caught on fire, waving around, trying to put it out, but only making the flames worse. Slowly he fell to the ground. The flames dying as he turned into ash. Drune rested his head back. He felt cold. He had to stop the blood. Later, after he got some sleep. He was so tired. As he faded off into unconsciousness, he thought the heard voices.

Drune’s eyes shot open and he gasped in air. The priestess was kneeling over him. He was laying on a bedroll in the temple, covered in a light blanket.

“Ho... how did I get here?” He asked. He remembered what happened earlier. He put his hand on his midsection.

“There is no scar. You healed me.”

“Yes,” She said. “Some villagers found you pinned to a rock. The blacksmith had to come out and break the sword. They brought you here to me. I healed your wounds, but you lost a lot of blood. You need to rest.”

She laid a hand on his arm. He gasped as searing pain shot through his body. In his head he heard whispers of an all too familiar voice.”

“This is your punishment. You are never to touch a priestess again.”

He clutched his arm to his chest,

“No, don’t touch me.”

With that, he fainted. He drifted into and out of unconsciousness, waking up only to eat and drink. When he finally stayed up, he explained his situation to the priestess.

“You are well enough to leave.” She explained to him. “Although, don’t go out killing vampires or anything for a while.”

He nodded and left. He retrieved his reward and gave the hunter his half, and, with out looking back, left the town.