=AQ= War of the Fangs: Evolution! War Stories and Poems (Full Version)

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Elryn -> =AQ= War of the Fangs: Evolution! War Stories and Poems (2/4/2014 14:28:47)

Here is where you may post your war stories. Have fun writing and please remember to follow the rules in both AE forums and the L&L rules.

And for this thread :

1) One post per person. If you have an ongoing story, please just edit your post to continue it. Do not make a new post to add to your story. New major events in AQ will receive a new thread.

2) Please do not comment on the stories in this thread. If you wish to comment on the stories, please go to =AQ= War of the Fangs: Evolution! War Stories and Poems Commentary




Muchiha -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/4/2014 21:18:17)

Claw & Fang

Intro:

Much has changed since I wrote words detailing a great war. Changes that not only applies to the World of Lore, but the creatures that dwell within it. For myself, I have lost most of my Necromancer powers in the concluding fight with the Paladins. I have been able to draw a small amount of power from the damaged Ley-Lines, but the energy acquired is so minuscule that it isn't enough to sustain my former powerful Necromancy techniques. And with that came the decreased use of my Father's Armor set. My father always told me that "Great heroes know that in order to cope with changes, they must adapt." So I too, adapted. By training extensively under the Communicants of Fire, Ice, Light and Darkness, I sought to strengthen my ties to the elements that my Father (Fire & Darkness) and Mother (Ice & Light) possessed within them. The other elements soon followed.

But it still wasn't enough.

Within my adventures, I have come across an amazing discovery. The dual-element that is Shadow. I have studied this element relentlessly and even utilized a few techniques related to it in the past. But those techniques were just the tip of the iceberg. And so, by sparring with the likes of Lord Barrius, Elbhe, and with the most powerful of the Shadow Monsters, recently, with the one called "Ultimon". I was able to combine the aspects of Darkness from my Necromancer father and Light from my Cleric mother within me to channel Shadow energy. Slowly but surely, I grasped the concepts this dual element provides and how to use it properly under the guidance of Lord Barrius along with the Lord of Darkness and Lady of Light respectively. Little by little, my reservoir of Shadow Energy increased. Though not fully mastering it yet, I have become proficient in wielding the Shadow Element at a high level.

Will my Necromancer powers return? I do not know. Maybe. Maybe not. But I will not sit around and wait for that answer. Lore needs saving. There are threats looming left and right. I must adapt to whatever challenges lie ahead. And better myself along the way...


*Authors Note* For this next chapter, each member of the #WolfPack will receive a special weapon designed by the Were-King himself. It's a set of black leather gloves that conceals hidden claws and releases them at the owners will. Think of it like Altair/Ezio's hidden blades + Wolverines metal claws. Instead of the hidden blades being near the wrist at the bottom of the hand, they are on the opposite side. Like where a person would normally wear their watch. That's the side where the hidden claws would come out of.



Chapter I: The Were-King's Gift - Rise, WolfPack!


A small group of people gathered just outside the impenetrable doors of copper and bronze. This group consisted of the great Chosens of Lore. Kors the Chronomancer. Seth Hydra and Phrixus the great Warriors. Storm SilverWing and Muchiha, renown Necromancers of Lore. And finally, Popinloopy and Wyrm, former Generals of the Legendary Paladin battle unit: the PalaPact. The doors suddenly opened. An Alpha Werewolf, armored in luxurious regalia inspected the newcomers to the Were-King's lair before saying,

"His Royal Highness wishes to see you now."

The group followed the large werewolf into the hidden cave. Looking around, the Chosens were astounded at the size and opulence the cave hid from the outside World. Golden statues and extravagant paintings of past Werewolf Kings, Queens, and famous heroes alike decorated the main halls. Relics, displayed in glass cases showcased the history of the Lycan Kingdom. Walking past the grand halls, the heroes came across the training grounds for new and experienced Werewolves.

A state of the art gym, complete with all the necessities highlighted the strength and conditioning regimen that the Lycans were exposed to. About fifty sparring matches and lessons were in session. The sparring grounds themselves were nothing short of magnificent. A multitude of trees were planted to simulate the dense forests of Darkovia. A armory rack containing weapons varying from short range to long range. Finally, a large indoor waterfall, with magical purifiers and filters was the centerpiece to a garden of organic fruits and vegetables. These were available for anyone thirsty or in need of a light snack during training.

At last, the Alpha Werewolf stopped at a Wooden door made of Oak. He knocked on it three times only to hear a booming voice say, "Come in!" The wooden doors opened and revealed a spacious room. Alpha Werewolves, lined left and right on each side bowed as the Heroes of Lore made their way towards the Were-King and his company of Elders, Generals, and Captains standing behind him.

"We've been expecting you all! I would have one of my men give you a personal tour of our underground Palace, but time is of the essence. You are here because you wish to fight the Vampires. Normally, to participate in a War such as this you would need to turn yourselves into Lycans in order to have my permission to fight. However, I know you are all capable fighters and prove to be valuable assets in helping us achieve our goal. As such, I will give you the option of whether to become a full-fledged Werewolf or not. And if you choose to accept Lycanthropy, you will be bitten by a fellow Alpha-Were General and will be instantly promoted to the rank of Alpha."

Sounds of gasps and utter shock stunned the Werewolf audience.

"SILENCE!" bellowed the Were-King.

"In any case, I would like to present you heroes with a gift as a token of my appreciation." The Werewolf King nodded at his Captains as they each handed the group with a wooden Mahogany box. Opening the box, there was a set of long black gloves encased in copper, bronze, and gold.

"Go ahead, try it on." As the others were tightening the straps on their elongated gloves, Muchiha finished with his and stepped forward, giving himself some space. After a few moments of examining it, the former Necromancer stretched out his arms in a swift motion. Three metal claws on each hand extended outward through incisions hidden within the leather gloves.

"HAHAHA! Very good! Yes, these are specially designed gloves. They have hand guards in place to act as shields for melee combat. And the best part about them is that they contain hidden claw-blades, extending and retracting at their owners' will. The blades themselves are made of a special alloy that makes them nearly indestructible and allows them to be elementally enchanted. Use them wisely my friends." Once the heroes finished testing out their gifts, Constantin continued,

"The seven of you, along with a few more other Chosen and several of my best fighters, are to be part of the leading battle forces within the Werewolf Army. Your primary mission is to locate and takeover as many Vampire Covens as you can. Eliminate any and all that stand on your way. Unless said otherwise, take no prisoners. Any Vampire property and land that is overtaken by anyone in this task-force shall be seized in the name of the Lycans. Anything you collect from battles between Vampires are yours to keep. At the end of this war, you will receive a cut in the loot us Lycans have acquired. I think that covers everything. Oh, how could I forget! What are to call this task-force?"

"Let's just keep it short and simple your Majesty. How about... the WolfPack?" Muchiha questioned.

"Straight-forward and simple. I like it! On your knees, Chosens of Lore." The group obeyed and the Were-King took his large sword and pointed it at them.

"I, Constantin Petyrovich, declare you, Heroes of Lore, honorary fighters of the Lycan Army!" A small cheer erupted from the crowd. He continued,

"Fight with bravery and determination. For we have something worth fighting for!" Another cheer from the audience filled the air.

"Stand with me in this time of War. RISE! WOLFPACK OF THE LYCAN ARMY!" A loud chorus of howls, roars, and shouts shook the throne room.

Once the inaugurations were done for, each member of the WolfPack was congratulated by the gathering of everyone in attendance. Making their way out of the hidden cave and out into the Darkovian air, the members of the WolfPack gathered amongst one another.

"I have intel from one of my contacts that are reports of Vampires lurking on the outskirts of the Werewolf battle-camps," said Popinloopy.

"There is plenty at stake for both sides," said Kors.

"We must make haste gentlemen. If the first strike is to be made, then it shall be from our side," Muchiha added.

"We can all head out first, and message the rest of our battalion fighting with us our location so they can meet us there," added Storm Silvering.

"Great idea Storm! I'll send word as we travel," offered Seth Hydra.

"Let's move," said Phrixus.

The leaders of the WolfPack proceeded to begin their assault, moving towards their first destination at high-speed.


Chapter II: Tactical Blitz! First Strike of the Lycans



“Is everyone in position?” Muchiha asked through the WolfPack’s mindlink.

A chorus of “yes” responded back. While en route to the first target, the WolfPack decided to break themselves up into smaller units in order to overwhelm the enemy through the air and land. The ground unit was led by Muchiha, Kor, Phrixus, and Storm SilverWing. They were all riding on the fastest Werewolves that joined their battalion except Storm, who opted to receive the Lycan mark and become a powerful Alpha Werewolf. Seth Hydra, Popinloopy, and Flashbang led the air unit. The two Paladins were riding on Werepyres loyal to the Lycans, while Seth was flying on his own due to his Werepyre nature.

“Good. I can see the castle now.” A castle that looked to be hundreds of years old stood high above the trees lining Darkovia. This was where a main Vampire Force was reported to be gathering, ready to attack the Werewolves closer to home.

“Fenrir, could you speed up a little, friend?” asked Muchiha.

“I can smell the bloodsuckers already. Alright Muchiha, hang on!” Fenrir, one of the main Generals the Were-King entrusted to the WolfPack, increased his already fast pace to a breakneck speed. Using his special eyes to observe the environment ahead of him, Muchiha spotted four guards patrolling the gate that contains the Vampire soldiers. He contacted his comrades once more,

“There are only four guards that patrol this side of the Battlecamp’s perimeter. Looking above, there’s no Vampires patrolling above us. Air unit, you guys can go ahead of us. We’ll meet up as soon as we’re done here.”

“Sure thing Muchiha,” said Seth Hydra

“You bet,” replied Popinloopy.

“YOLO!” exclaimed Wrym.

“Wyrm, don’t ever say that word again. Or else we’re gonna have to feed you to the Vampires. Understood?”

“Roger that Storm. I’ll just stick to saying other words like SWAG!”


The sound of grunts and facepalms filled the WolfPack’s mind-powered communication system.

“We’re here! Make this first strike count WolfPack! Let’s give these Vamps an idea on who they’re messing with!” Growls and roars echoed from the Werewolf squadron.

As the Vampire patrol guards, suddenly aware of their incoming enemies raised their weapons. Muchiha took this opportunity to silence them before they could notify their Vampire comrades of our presence. Closing his eyes, Muchiha uttered,

“Arrows of Virtue!” Eight arrows of pure fire magically appeared in front of him before launching themselves at the four Vamp guards at a blinding speed. The four bodies incinerated instantaneously as Muchiha, riding on Fenrir zoomed past them. The gate was directly in front of the duo. Muchiha unsheathed his personal weapon “The Katana of Shadows”, raised it to the sky, and exclaimed,

“WolfPack! BEGIN THE ASSAULT!”

Fenrir burst through the steel gates like they were made of paper and lunged at the first group of Vampires he saw. Vampire Warriors and Vampire Knights were torn to bits as Fenrir’s razor sharp claws and Muchiha’s katana sliced through them like a hot knife on soft butter. Blazing through the ranks at a quick velocity, Fenrir and Muchiha defeated a few dozen soldiers in mere seconds. The duo stopped to watch the other battles taking place.

Kor and Phrixus were not far behind. Kor was using one of his Chronomancy spells to ward off thirty Vampire Knights, aging them to dust. Phrixus mowed down a considerable amount of his attackers using his personal blade.

Glancing over at the far end of the battlefield, Muchiha witnessed Storm SilverWing completely overwhelming a horde of Vampires, with blows and strikes in quick succession. Turning his head towards the end of the battle camp, Muchiha saw a trio of Vampires walk out of the castle door. Well armoured and well dressed, they were taller in stature than the rest of the soldiers. What was most fascinating about them was that their aura and presence emanated power. Tremendous power.

“They are the Vampire Lords of this Castle. Do not take them lightly Chosens of Lore,” said Fenrir through the mindlink.

One of them stepped forward and observed the damage. He then spoke,

“How DARE you come in here and kill our soldiers! Who sent you?! Was it the Dog King himself?! I should just kill you where you all stand. I- ugh!”

A deep diagonal slash suddenly appeared on the Vampire Lord causing him to clutch his chest in pain.

“What? Damn you! Who attacked me?!” He looked around the battlefield, so did the two other Vamp Lords standing behind him.

“Shadow Strike: Second Cut!” A second deep diagonal slash mark appeared on the Vampire Lord’s chest, creating a bloody “X”.

“WHO IS DOING THAT?!” bellowed the Vampire. Suddenly, he looked towards Muchiha, his hand on the hilt of his katana, grinning. Instant recognition appeared on the Vamp Lord’s face.

“YOU! You’re the former Necromancer General who now practices in the art of Shadow!”

He then recognised the other Chosens that were standing before him. Suddenly enraged, the Vampire Lord stood back.

“Very well, if this is how you fools want to play, so be it. Send in the remainder of the Ambush Platoons!”

Gates beneath the massive Stone Castle raised open. A variety of Vampire Warriors, Knights, Rogues, and Assassins flooded the vicinity. Laughing menacingly the wounded Vampire Lord added,

“Unfortunately for you Lycan lovers, you have only defeated one quarter of our unit. I don’t think you can last against the rest of our soldiers. Vampires! kill these fighters of the Were-King!” The soldiers charged, intent on bringing the WolfPack down. Muchiha formed a special set of hand seals rapidly.

“You’ve messed with the wrong people Vampire Lord. And I intend on making you regret underestimating us!” Muchiha took a large intake of air as he charged a great deal of his mana.

“Fire Element: Dragon Flame Breath!”

Muchiha exhaled a large jet of massive flames that grew in size and strength, turning into a wall of unending fire. The wall of burning flames approached the charging Vamps at a high speed and engulfed many soldiers. So powerful and quick was the inferno that any Vampires that were engulfed by the attack turned to ash instantaneously. He unsheathed his Katana of Shadows, cut through the flames, and sprinted towards the Vamp cavalry.

Storm SilverWing channeled Elemental Light energies through his Lycan Claws. He then proceeded to hack away the incoming soldiers at a furious velocity, bursting through their ranks and depleting their numbers. A trail of dead Vampire bodies littered Storm’s line of attack.

Kor summoned two creatures from his time portal. The first of the two plowed a small group of Vampires with a stone club. The second creature looked futuristic and robotic in nature. It activated a miniature forcefield barrier that surrounded a large group of Vamps. The Vampires that were trapped inside the barrier began to dissipate as their bodies decomposed into nothingness.

Phrixus could be seen in the background, expertly disarming and slaying countless Vampire Soldiers in mere seconds.

In less than five minutes, the Vampire battalion was reduced to one-quarter of its original amount.

“How can this be?! You massacred so many in a such a short amount of time? Damn you Lycan lovers! Well then, let’s see how you deal with the last one-quarter of this unit! They are the best fighters we have! FINISH THEM OFF MY VAMPIRE SOLDIERS!”

However, before some of the remaining soldiers had a chance to attack, they were knocked down, and run over by a large Werepyre that seemed to have arrived out of nowhere from the Darkovian sky above. Seth Hydra’s incoming attack had such speed, momentum, and power that some Vampires were launched high in the air before falling to the ground, lifeless.

Simultaneously, multiple large explosions of light appeared near the vicinity of the Vampire Lord Trio and their minions, sending plenty more Vampires to their unexpected deaths. Looking up, the Chosens could see Wrym dropping Light Bomb after Light bomb on the Vampires from above.

“Looks like we arrived just in time for the party,” said Popinloopy, climbing down from his Werepyre mount.

“Perfect, the rest of this “DOG-Pack” has arrived. Then us Vampire Lords shall take care of you personally.” Nodding to the remaining one tenth of his soldiers, The Vampire Lords began powering up. The last of the soldiers came at the Chosens.

“Hmph, they’re gonna have to do better than that,” Popinloopy pointed his index finger at the remaining battalion.

“Laser Light,”

An extremely focused beam of elemental light shot through Popinloopy’s finger towards the ranks and disintegrated as the laser beam penetrated through them. A large explosion followed as the laser made contact with the ground, releasing it’s focused energies.

“Three left to go,”

Chapter III: Together

Dark violet energy surged around the three Vampire Lords, as they powered up to their full potential. Their aura caused a slight disturbance towards the designated warmongers of Lore.

“Eat this you were-dogs!” The first Vampire uncurled his wings, flying past the warmongers with incredible speed, and knocked down a small pack of lycan warriors like a bowling ball to a group of pins. Shortly after that, he moved to attack another small battalion.

The second Vampire Lord followed suit, flying toward another small group of helpless lycans before instantly draining them of life through his claws infused with his callous dark magic, laughing maniacally as he absorbed their life essence.

The third and final Vampire Lord charged toward Muchiha, Seth Hydra, and Storm Silverwing knocking them back with such force they were knocked into popinloopy, Kor, and Phrixus who in turn were taken off their feet and landed hard on the ground catching their allies. Picking themselves up the Chosens of Lore confronted the third Vampire Lord who was taunting them in the sky above.

“You call yourselves the honored fighters of the Were-King?! Or should I say, the DOG -King. Or perhaps I should just refer to him simply as a dog, because he certainly does not know how to choose his fighters! Ahahahah!”

“I’ll admit, you caught us off guard Vampire Lord. But know this, there will be not be a second time!” exclaimed Muchiha. And with that, Seth Hydra and Storm Silverwing flew to the Vampire in the air, pushing him upwards into the sky.

Muchiha and popinloopy sprinted toward the first Vampire Lord, while Kors and Phrixus moved towards the second Vampire Lord.

Muchiha blasted a medium sized fireball from his right hand while popinloopy charged forward unsheathing his blade. Once he was in striking distance, popinloopy began his melee assault. The Vampire lord first created a shield of dark energy to ward off Muchiha’s fire spell and moved at a blinding speed and parried popinloopy’s attacks with his wings and claws. The vamp then began an assault of his own, putting the paladin on the defensive. Muchiha’s body glowed light red as he called upon the elements of earth and fire. The ground underneath his comrade and the fiend began to crack, revealing a glow in colors of red and orange.

“Popinloopy, get back!” Popinloopy jumped backward.

“Incendiary rock!”

The vampire lord was overwhelmed as a pillar of lava blasted from the ground below him. When no trace of the bloodsucker remained, Muchiha and popinloopy turned their attention to the battle right beside them.

Kors was going toe to toe with his opponent, having summoned his two main fighters from his time portals. Phrixus, the swordmaster, kept on parrying the claw strikes and draining abilities of the vampire in check. Kors attempted to use his Chronomancy to put the Vamp in stasis, but his enemy flew a short distance away to get out of Kors’s cast range. Phrixus had an idea. Jumping toward the winged menace, his strikes became more plentiful in number, simple and predictable, but still kept his opponent on his toes.

“Your blade attacks are easy to read mortal. You won’t win this fight.”

“I certainly won’t win this small battle. But my friend over there can.” Phrixus pointed behind him. Two spherical portals of time via Kors’s Chrono-magic had formed. One behind Kors and the second behind the unsuspecting Vampire Lord.

“You are a being that has lived for hundreds of years,” said Kors., “However, even beings such as yourself have an expiration date. I rarely get to use this attack, but this battle needs to end, for we are running out of time.”

Kors channeled Chrono-magic into the time portal behind him. The time portal behind his opponent grew brighter and increased in size until it was shaped like a miniature dome, covering the Vampire.

“Time distortion!”

The teal blue coloured dome of Chrono-magic radiated with energy as the Vampire Lord within it screamed, turning to dust.

“Well, that’s two down, the third is probably still..” Before Muchiha could finish his sentence, the third Vampire Lord, covered in blue flames, came crashing down to the ground near him, remaining motionless. Storm SIlverwing and Seth Hydra landed gracefully on either side of their deceased adversary pleased with their work.

“We must hurry everyone. The Vampires are being pushed back by the Lycans, however there is still the matter of going against the general of Safiria’s remaining forces.”

“Agreed. Wolfpack, let’s move!”

(Play through the rest of the War event (Vamps vs Lycans) for the conclusion / finale)



*This Chapter has been long overdue. I just wanna thank you guys for the uplifting reviews. I want to return the favor and take the time to read all your uploaded chapters, and I shall do that as soon as possible. Thank you for your understanding.






battlemaster25 -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/4/2014 23:32:54)

Prologue: That Night, Eleven Years Ago....

Scene: Darkovia, eleven years in the past. Two paladins are walking through the forest, apparently following something.

These particular paladins were notable for the fact that they were both only teenagers, and brothers at that. One was clearly taller than the other, because he was two years older. The younger brother had lightly tanned skin, and vibrant yellow hair that hung loosely down past his shoulders. He had a skinny build, and appeared to be somewhat agile, despite his heavy armor. His eyes looked narrow and keen, and were as yellow as his hair.

The elder of the two, however, looked quite different. In fact, it barely seemed as if the two were related at all. He was heavy-set and muscular, and his skin was slightly pale. His eyes were a cool gray, and rounded, giving him a somewhat serene look. Like his brother, his hair was rather lengthy, although it was jet-black and tied into a ponytail. He stopped and looked around, and then spoke up.

"Storm, are you sure they went this way?"

The younger one, Storm, stopped as well. He sighed quietly.

"Those vampires have definitely been here. Look here, Gale, there's a faint trail of blood."

"Huh? Oh, nice catch! I reckon that they've been dragging a body along."

"Sounds about right. Either way, we follow that trail, and we've found our vamps."


At this, they turned and continued to trudge through the forest, following the trail of blood stained on the leaves. They walked in silence for some time, before eventually Storm spoke up.

"Gale?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking..... Has mother seemed a bit overbearing to you lately?"

"Uh, yeah, I suppose so. Why?"

"Well, the truth is, I don't think that I really belong. I can't cast light spells, and I think that mother's been getting frustrated with that."

"I know where this is going. You're thinking of leaving the order."

"Yes. Do you think that I should?"


Gale turned to face his brother. He clapped a hand onto Storm's shoulder. A huge grin spread across his face, which surprised Storm.

"Ha! Honestly, I was kinda thinking about it myself!"

"You.... you were?"

"Yeah. I don't wanna be slaying undead for the rest of my life, it's unbearable."

"That was not at all the answer I was expecting, but it works."

"We'll tell mother when we get back, okay? But first, we've gotta slay these vampires."


Scene: One hour later, the two arrive in a clearing. There is a mutilated body lying in the center.

Storm glanced at Gale, then approached the body. Upon closer examination, it appeared to be a werewolf. The werewolf had been brutally cut all over its body. It was clear that several vampires had attacked it. Storm looked at it curiously.

"Why would they leave the body here?"

Gale shrugged and walked over to Storm.

"No idea. Unless....."

"Unless what?"

".....Unless they were leading us into a trap."


As soon as he finished speaking, there were several loud whooshing sounds, as the vampires jumped into view. There were at least twenty of them, along with one vampire lord. The vampire lord's claws were smeared with blood, as were his warriors' swords. Gale glanced at Storm, and they both drew their swords. The vampire lord smiled coldly, and chuckled.

"Well well well, it seems that our next meal is here! Let's see if you put up a better fight than that hound did....."

The vampire lord snapped his fingers, and all of the vampires leaped forwards at once. Gale began to blast them with light spells, while Storm smoothly parried their attacks. Gale smiled in satisfaction, as two of the vampires were besieged by balls of light, disintegrating into ashes. Storm engaged several vampires in close combat, slashing with deadly precision. Within moments, no less than three of the vampires had fallen to his blade. Soon, however, they began to wear down. Storm was growing tired, and Gale's mana was running low. The long trek through the forest had clearly taken its toll.

Seeing his opportunity, the vampire lord swept forward into the fray. All Storm saw was a flash of black, and Gale stumbled backwards, clutching half of his face. The vampire lord's claws had torn through his skin, leaving several long gashes. The other vampires split into two groups, and swarmed the brothers. Storm struck at them desperately, but he was surrounded. As one of the vampires raised its sword for the kill, there was a sudden burst of light, buffeting the vampires backwards and stunning them. Storm saw Gale standing before him, his hand outstretched. Storm saw that he was covered in slashes and was bleeding profusely.

"Storm..... I don't think I'm gonna make it."

"No.... Come on, we've gotta escape!"

"You go. I'll cover you."


Suddenly, the vampire lord recovered, and began to march menacingly towards Gale. Several of the other vampires began to stir as well. Storm stared hard at Gale.

"Gale....."

"Please Storm, just go!"


Tears welling up in his eyes, Storm turned and ran. Some of the vampires tried to pursue him, but Gale exhausted the last of his mana to obliterate them with a burst of light. He raised his sword and turned to face the vampire lord. Looking back, Storm saw the vampire lord slashing viciously at Gale, who was trying desperately to block. That was the last that Storm ever saw of his elder brother.

End of Prologue.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter I: Joining the Pack


Scene: Granemor, Modern Day. Storm Silverwing sits in Boog's Tavern, clearly waiting for something.

In the many years that had passed, Storm had changed quite a bit. His yellow hair had a streak of silver in the front, and there was a long scar across the bridge of his nose. He was much taller, and had put on some muscles. Instead of paladin armor, he now wore heavy black armor, resembling that of the shadow Ultimon. The most notable change, however, was that his right leg was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a shiny steel prosthetic. The new leg was extremely high quality, being the exact size and shape as the limb it replaced, and it contained complicated mechanics that made it move smoothly. This was clearly Drakel handiwork.

The door to the tavern creaked open. Storm looked up, and smiled in satisfaction, as a figure stepped through the doorway. It was a skeleton, dressed in sleek black leather armor, with an enormous ebony longbow on its back. The skeleton hurried over to Storm and sat down next to him. Storm spoke up.

"Hello, Isaac. I assume that you have news?"

"Yes, master, I do. The rumors were true, Constantin has discovered the source of the cure."

"I knew it. Anything else I should be interested in?"

"Oh, you have no idea. The vampires caught wind of it as well."


Storm's eyes narrowed. Isaac the skeleton distinctly saw his master shudder with rage. After a moment, Storm spoke, his tone icy.

"Vampires."

"Yes, master. The two factions are preparing for all-out war."

"Stay here, Isaac. I have to go."

"Master, you aren't seriously thinking about getting involved?"

"Of course I am. The time for my vengeance is finally at hand."


The moment he finished speaking, Storm stood up and practically sprinted out of the tavern, leaving his skeletal companion behind.

Scene: Darkovia, two hours later. Storm approaches the Werewolves' lair.

The wolf-shaped door's eyes turned and looked at the approaching figure. As Storm arrived in front of it, it called out.

"Hold up, there! What is your business here?"

"I am Storm Silverwing, and I have come to speak with your king. I believe he owes me a favor."

"Hmph. Very well, go on inside. He's preparing the troops."


The door slid to the side, revealing the entrance to the cave. Storm slowly walked in. The cave was bustling full of werewolves, some transformed, some not. All of them, however, were clearly preparing for war. Swords and armor were being passed from person to person. Alpha werewolves discarded their old cuffs in favor of new ones. Hearing a distinct clanging noise, Storm turned his head and saw that a makeshift blacksmith's forge had been set up in one corner of the cave. In the very center, towering above all of the other werewolves, stood King Constantin himself, barking orders left and right. One of the werewolves approached Constantin.

"Your majesty, there's someone here to see you."

Constantin turned and saw Storm standing there. He sighed loudly, and walked over to him. His body language suggested that he did not at all appreciate the interruption.

"Hello, Constantin."

"What do you want? Can't you see that I'm rather busy?"

"Yes, I know. That's why I'm here. I'd like to help you."

"Oh? Do go on."

"I'm willing to join your pack. I hate vampires just as much as you do."

"Are you sure? There is no backing out."

"Yes, I'm sure. However, I'm also calling in that favor you owe me."

"Fine. What do you want?"

"I want to be made an Alpha straight away."


Constantin's eyes visibly widened in surprise. When he spoke, his tone was somewhere between shock and anger.

"A new whelp, made an Alpha!? Absurd!"

"Come on, Constantin, you know you can trust me. Besides, you need all the help you can get."

"Hmph. Fine. You'll be an Alpha. But you are to address me as 'Your Majesty' like all of the others."

"Fair enough. There's one other thing, a personal request this time."

"What now!?"

"If we encounter a Vampire Lord called Caius, I want to kill him. Preferably with my bare hands."

"Ha! I like your attitude. If I see this 'Caius', he's all yours."


Constantin whistled, and one of the alpha werewolves came scurrying over. Constantin pointed at Storm.

"This one. Turn him. He will be a new Alpha."

"Newblood? An Alpha?"

"Just do it. Unless you wish to challenge me?"


The alpha werewolf yelped in response to Constantin's suggestion. Constantin grinned, and returned to the center of the cave, where he continued to give commands to the other werewolves. The alpha approached Storm, and motioned for him to stand still. Storm closed his eyes. A moment later, he felt a sharp burst of pain as the werewolf chomped into his shoulder, its teeth penetrating his armor and digging down into Storm's flesh. A moment later, it released its grip, and Storm promptly flopped over onto the floor, unconscious.

Scene: Werewolf Lair, several hours later. Storm slowly awakens.

Storm sat up slowly, rubbing his head. He was drenched in sweat, and his shoulder still hurt, although the pain was fading surprisingly rapidly. After a moment, he realized that something felt off when he rubbed his head. He looked down at his hands, and saw that they were clawed and covered in golden-brown fur. He stood up slowly, and looked down at his body. It was covered in the same shaggy fur, and his muscle mass had increased quite dramatically. His back was slightly hunched, although it did not bother him. He was also easily a foot taller than he had been before. To his pleasure, he saw that his mechanical leg had changed its form to match his. It was clearly even more advanced than he thought.

The alpha who bit him was standing nearby, overseeing some other new recruits. Seeing Storm standing up, he turned and smiled.

"Well well well, you're finally awake. Welcome to the pack."


End of Chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter II: A Costly Battle


Scene: Darkovia, Northern Mountains. Storm arrives on the battlefield, seeing an all-out brawl between the Vampires and Werewolves.

They were fighting at the base of a large mountain. Several tall, rocky cliffs surrounded the area. Storm suspected that this was the origin of The Cure. The warfare between the two sides had descended into utter chaos. There were far too many combatants, on both sides, for either one to utilize any sort of proper tactics. In addition to the troops duking it out on the ground, werepyres and vampire lords swooped about overhead, clashing with each other.

Suddenly, several vampire warriors realized that Storm was there, and charged at him. Storm spun around to face them, hair sprouting all over his body. By the time they reached him, he had completed his werewolf transformation. With an ear-splitting howl, he charged at them, suddenly moving extremely quickly. Storm bit hard into one of the vampires' necks, and then released. As the first dead vampire dropped to the ground, he grabbed two more in an instant. Before they even had time to struggle, he smashed their heads together. Releasing their corpses from his grip, Storm turned to face the last vampire, who was visibly quivering.

"If I were you, I would start running now."

The vampire dropped his sword and fled. Storm smiled in satisfaction, as this had been a successful test of his new abilities. He had always been skilled in physical brawling, and his new-found strength and speed only enhanced his combat abilities further. Suddenly, he smelled something familiar approaching him. He turned, and saw a werewolf warrior standing behind him.

"Excuse me sir, you're Storm Silverwing, correct?"

"I am. Do you have news for me?"

"Yes sir. One of your fellow alphas believes he's found the vampire lord you are searching for."

"Was this vampire lord wearing a distinctive bone necklace?"

"Indeed he was."

"Where is he? Tell me, quickly!"


Without another word, the werewolf warrior pointed upwards, towards the top of one of the cliffs. Storm squinted, and saw a tall black figure standing there, overlooking the battlefield. Storm's eyes widened, and he charged off towards the cliff, running on all-fours.

Scene: Darkovia, Northern Mountains, several minutes later. Storm arrives on top of the cliff.

Storm saw the vampire lord standing at the very edge of the cliff, still observing the chaos below. Storm took a single step forward. Hearing the sound, the vampire lord turned to face Storm. Storm saw that he was indeed wearing a necklace, which appeared to be made out of werewolf bones.

"Vampire Lord Caius."

"Indeed. Why are you here, mutt? Do you have a death wish?"

"I am here for revenge."

"Oh, lovely. I do adore a quest for vengeance. For whom?"

"Eleven years ago, you ambushed two paladins in the woods. One of them fled, but the other stood and fought."

"Ah, yes, I remember that. Disgusting little worm actually managed to cut me."

"He was my brother. You murdered him."

"You and I define murder very differently."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't even know.... what you don't know."


Storm growled loudly in anger, and Caius smiled cruelly. He was clearly enjoying messing with Storm's head.

"You're just trying the psyche me out, aren't you?"

"Hmm.... perhaps."

"It won't work."

"Oh dear, it appears it already has. By the way, I thought you should know, the paladin was still twitching as I dragged him back to the castle. It must have been quite painful."


This was the absolute last straw. Storm screamed in rage, a terrifying guttural sound. He leaped towards Caius, unleashing a flurry of powerful blows. To his surprise, however, he found that the vampire lord was as fast as he was, effortlessly blocking his strikes. Caius went to swipe at Storm with one of his claws, but Storm caught his arm and delivered a powerful punch to his stomach. This, however, left Storm open, and Caius swung his leg upwards, smashing his foot into Storm's jaw. Storm released Caius's arm and stumbled backwards, his ears ringing. Seizing the opportunity, Caius went on the offensive, slashing Storm repeatedly with his claws.

Unfortunately for the vampire lord, however, Storm was an alpha werewolf. The gashes that Caius inflicted were shallow, and thus regenerated almost as quickly as they came. Realizing that this approach wasn't working, Caius instead opted to drain Storm's blood. He lunged forward, baring his fangs. Storm quickly sidestepped, delivering a swift kick to the side of the vampire lord's head. The two continued to trade blows for some time, neither managing to significantly injure the other. Eventually, however, Storm managed to get in a lucky hit. He once again leaped at Caius, swiping with both of his hands. Caius reacted a second too slowly, and Storm's claws tore an enormous hole in one of the vampire lord's wings. Caius roared in anger and pain, a look of sheer rage on his face.

"You filthy beast! You dare to harm me!? I have been killing your kind since before you were born!"

In one swift motion, Caius produced a small scroll from his belt and whipped it open. Inscribed on the scroll were black runes of some sort. They glowed red for a brief moment, and dark power began to swirl around the vampire lord's hands. He made a dramatic upwards gesture, and black chains burst up out of the ground, encircling around Storm's arms. Storm struggled against the chains as Caius approached him.

"Did you not think that a vampire of my standing would wield magic? This ends here, you foolish whelp."

Caius had mostly regained his calm demeanor, although he was still visibly quite irate. Oddly, however, Storm was calm as well. He spoke up, his voice sounding almost serene.

"You know, when I swore vengeance on you all those years ago, I came to a realization."

"Do tell. It will not save you anyway."

"I realized that I don't care what happens to me. I will gladly join my brother in death.... so long as you come with me!"


With a sudden burst of strength, Storm kicked his legs off hard from the ground, sending him hurtling towards the vampire lord. The black chains shattered, unable to withstand the force behind Storm's leap. As Storm smashed into Caius, he wrapped his arms tightly around him. Together, Storm's momentum sent them hurtling off of the cliff. Caius panicked, flailing desperately against Storm. He managed to escape Storm's grasp, and tried to fly to safety. However, the tear in his wing prevented him from gaining lift, and he continued to plummet. As Caius let out a bloodcurdling yell, Storm closed his eyes, his face completely calm.

With a sickening crunch, both Storm and Caius smashed into the ground.


End of Chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter III: The Chamber


Scene: Unknown Place, unknown time. Storm wakes up in a small, dark chamber.

Storm sat up slowly. Every inch of his body was wracked with pain. Was he dead? He didn't think that death was supposed to hurt.... Feeling the floor beneath him, he found that it was made of large, heavy stone bricks. The heavy, musty air told him that he was underground. He saw a faint sliver of light in front of him, which he surmised to be from the door of the chamber, the tiny amount of light revealing it to be made of dark wood. After a moment, he realized that he was no longer in werewolf form. Even more interestingly, however, was the fact that he had been stripped down to a pair of ragged trousers. Gradually, he stood up, hearing an odd sound of clanking metal as he did so.

Standing up now, Storm began to take a step towards the door, when he felt something pull tight at his arms and legs. A quick investigation revealed the source: he was chained to the wall. Even more pressingly, however, he suddenly noticed something odd with his left arm. He tried to move it, and was only hit with an awful burst of pain. He jerked the rest of his body forward slightly, and the arm merely flopped around. Rather quickly, he realized that the bones within it had completely shattered. Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps, and he pressed his back against the wall.

The heavy wooden door opened with a loud creak, and dim yellow light filled the room. A figure wearing a hooded black cloak stepped in, holding a candle. The figure shut the door behind him, locking it tightly with a rusty iron key. Then, he turned to face Storm.

"You're awake. Excellent. Saves me some trouble."

"Ha! You're not death! So that means I'm not dead!"

"No, you are not. That won't be the case for too much longer, however."


Storm jerked forwards suddenly, with as much force as he could muster. However, the chains refused to even budge. This was rather odd, as Storm had previously been able to break chains of similar size. Faintly, Storm saw magical runes glowing on the chains' links. The hooded figure laughed coldly.

"Don't even bother. Those chains are enchanted, only vampires can break them."

"You're a vampire, then. Why have you captured me?"

"We found you at the bottom of a cliff, along with the broken corpse of one of our lords. Murdered by you, no doubt."

"And then you hauled my unconscious body back to your castle. Doesn't explain why you didn't kill me."

"My superior believed that one of the beasts' alphas could have useful information. Lo and behold, one is delivered to us."

"Ha! Do you really think I'll tell you anything?"


The hooded vampire drew a long, slightly curved silver dagger from his belt. He pointed it threateningly at Storm's face.

"Oh, I think that you will. Or you will die."

"So it's torture, then. Might as well kill me now, I won't break."

"We'll see how long your bravado lasts once we begin."


In one swift motion, the torturer swept forwards, jammed the dagger into Storm's limp arm and then pulled it out again slowly. It took all of Storm's willpower to avoid yelling out in pain. Then, he slashed the dagger across Storm's chest, leaving a lengthy but shallow cut. After waiting a second to see if Storm would respond, he then proceeded to stab Storm's other arm. He repeated this pattern, alternating between slashes and stabs, for what seemed like forever. Eventually, the torturer stepped back and looked at Storm. Seeing that Storm was bleeding profusely, the torturer produced a health potion and splashed it on Storm, sealing the wounds but leaving nasty scars.

"That's enough for now, I believe. Are you ready to talk?"

Storm looked up slowly. He smiled slightly and spit at the torturer's face.

"Suit yourself. We will resume this in a few hours. No-one can hold out forever."

With that, the torturer turned and unlocked the door, exiting the chamber. As the door creaked closed, Storm heard the key being turned slowly, no doubt mocking Storm about how thoroughly trapped he was. Slumping down on the floor, Storm decided to try and grab a few minutes of sleep.

Scene: Vampire Dungeon Cell, two hours later. The door creaks open once again.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, Storm jolted awake. He stood up quickly. Once again, a hooded figure entered the room. However, it seemed to be a different vampire, as this one was shorter, and wearing armor over his cloak. Without a word, the vampire approached Storm, drawing a sword. He raised it above his head, and Storm winced. He heard the whoosh of the blade swinging downwards, and closed his eyes tightly. A moment later, he felt...... nothing. There was a loud sound, like clanging metal. Storm opened his eyes slowly, and saw that the chains around his arms had been severed. With another swing, the vampire sliced the chains binding his feet. Storm stared at the vampire, puzzled. The vampire hissed at him quietly.

"Don't just stand there, come on! We've got to move, fast."

As he said this, the vampire darted out of the cell door. After hesitating for a moment, Storm followed him. Stepping out into a dimly-let passageway, the vampire pointed in a direction and they both began to slowly walk down the hall. In a room off to the side, Storm heard a few vampires chatting. Together, Storm and his rescuer crept past the door, and once they were sure that they were clear, resumed walking normally. After a moment, the rescuer spoke in a whisper.

"There's a sewer grate up ahead. It will lead us out into the castle's moat. Grab that sword there, just in case."

The rescuer pointed to an ebony-black claymore mounted on a rack on the wall. Carefully, Storm reached up and removed it from the rack. Conveniently, it had a strap attached to it, which Storm slung over his shoulder. He wasn't sure how useful it would be when his left arm was so damaged, but it was comforting to have all the same. A moment later, he and his rescuer stopped, looking down at their feet. There was a large grate in the floor, with what looked like bloodstains around the edges. The rescuer lifted up the grate slowly, and Storm jumped in. He landed in a shallow pool of liquid. It was so dark that he couldn't see what it was, but the sewer smelled of blood. After a moment, there was a splash next to him, and he heard the clank of the grate falling shut.

Storm's rescuer grabbed his hand and led him forward. Touching the wall, Storm surmised that they were walking along a long, narrow tunnel. After trudging on for several minutes in silence, Storm saw a light up ahead. The tunnel reached a sudden stop, dropping downwards. The sky opened up above them, and Storm took a deep breath of fresh air. Looking down, he saw the moat. Blood, of course. His rescuer jumped into it, and Storm followed. They swam to the other side, and they crawled up onto a bank. Looking back, Storm saw Safiria's Castle behind them. Storm's rescuer spoke up.

"We can't stay here for too long. The torturer will notice that his prisoner is gone, as are his keys. They'll be hunting us."

Finally, Storm asked the question that he'd been saving.

"You're one of them. Why are you helping me?"

"Because....."


As he spoke, the rescuer reached up and lowered his hood. Storm gasped, as he saw a familiar face.

".....I'm your brother."

End of Chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter IV: Brotherhood


Scene: Darkovia, outside Safiria's Castle. Storm stares in shock at the figure before him.

Indeed, the vampire's words were true. Standing in front of Storm was none other than Gale Silverwing. Unlike his brother, the passage of time seemed to have barely affected Gale at all. His face showed three long, diagonal scars from where Caius had slashed him, but otherwise his appearance was exactly the same as it had been when Storm last saw him. The only thing indicating his vampiric state were his eyes, now of a deep crimson coloration. Seeing his brother effectively paralyzed with shock, Gale spoke. His voice was raspier than Storm remembered.

"Storm? .........Storm?"

Tears began to stream down Storm's face. Without hesitating, Gale grabbed Storm and pulled him tightly into a hug. Several moments passed in silence, and Storm gradually regained his composure. Gale smiled contentedly, and released Storm from his grip. Voice quivering slightly, Storm began to speak.

"It's really you.... You're here...."

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"I don't understand.... Why aren't you dead?"


Gale sat down on the dark gray grass. Hesitantly, Storm followed suit. Gale wrapped his arm around Storm's shoulder, and then began to tell his tale.

"They didn't kill me. I was knocked unconscious, and dragged back to this castle. When I awoke......"

Flashback Scene: Safiria's Castle, eleven years ago. Gale awakens.

He was in a small chamber, made of the same stone as the rest of the castle, and decorated with lavish red tapestries. He was lying on a stone table of some form. Instantly, he surmised that some form of ritual was often performed here. The bloodstains on the floor were not encouraging. Several vampire warriors surrounded him, and Vampire Lord Caius stood above him. On Caius's left arm, there was a long gash that Gale had inflicted in their fight. Seeing Gale squirming, Caius grinned.

"You are awake. How grand."

"Why have you brought me here, vampire?"

"You fought well. Very few humans have managed to wound me."

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with!"

"You were not brought here to be killed.... necessarily."

"Necessarily? What do you mean by that?"

"I spoke with Queen Safiria. Told her of your strength in combat. She gave me permission to offer you a choice."

"What could you ever want to give me?"

"Our gift. We need as many capable warriors as we can get. Accept, and you will live forever among our ranks."

"And if I decline?"

"You will die, and never see your brother again."


Somehow, Caius had known exactly which button to push. Although he was a Paladin, Gale believed that his family were more important than his ideals. Although he pondered the choice for a moment, it was effectively a foregone conclusion. He knew that he had to reunite with Storm some day. Closing his eyes in determination, he spoke up.

"I'll do it. I'll join you."

"Exactly what I wanted to hear."


Caius swept forwards, opened his mouth, and sunk his fangs into the side of Gale's neck. Gale twitched for a moment, then went completely still. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes, as red color seeped into them, replacing the gray.

End Flashback


As Gale finished his story, a question popped into Storm's head. In a slightly more accusatory tone than he intended, he asked it.

"Why did it take you eleven years to find me?"

"They told me that I had to earn the right to see you. Apparently, only high-ranking vampires are allowed to reunite with their loved ones at will."


Storm sighed, and looked down at his limp, useless left arm. There was a slightly wistful look on his face. Noticing his brother's change of attitude, Gale looked down at Storm's arm as well. Storm realized that Gale was looking. Seeing no point in hiding the truth, he spoke up.

"After I lost you, I swore revenge on the vampire responsible."

"Lord Caius, as he told me."

"Yes, him. I was prepared to pay any price to kill him, and it seems that I did. Only the most powerful healing magic can fix damage like this."

"Don't talk like that. You're still alive."

"By luck! I thought I was going to die, taking him with me."

"That doesn't matter now. We're both here, alive and reunited. Well, perhaps alive isn't entirely accurate for me....."


Looking closer at Gale, Storm saw that perhaps time had taken its toll after all. Dark bags had formed under Gale's eyes, and his cheeks were somewhat thinner, to the point where Storm could see exactly where his cheekbones were. Looking into Gale's eyes, Storm saw that the red color did not at all dampen his aura of serenity. More importantly, however, he sensed a great amount of warmth in Gale's attitude, despite his body being ice-cold. After a moment, Gale spoke up, sounding slightly uneasy now. Storm had never heard him like this before.

"You're a werewolf now. You must despise vampires like me."

"Nonsense!"

"Huh?"

"You're right, I did hate them. For years, I blamed them for your death. But you aren't dead. They let you join them, just because they respected your abilities."

"They also kept me from you for years. You aren't angry about that?"

"That doesn't matter. The simple fact of the matter is that you're still here. They didn't just cut you down. Perhaps there's some good in them after all."

"So, you really don't mind me being a vampire?"

"Absolutely not. I don't care what you are. You're still my brother, and I still love you. It's as simple as that."


Storm positively beamed at Gale as he said this. He was happier than he had been in years. For a moment, Gale was stunned by Storm's response. Eventually, however, he was able to form a reply.

".....Thank you, Storm. You have no idea how much that means to me."


End of Chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Chapter V: The Uncertain End


Scene: Darkovia, Northern Mountains. Storm and Gale Silverwing return to the battlefield, casually chatting as they do.

"....You know, I think that Demonmancy would suit you."

"Demons, Storm? Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I used to practice necromancy. A little demonic magic is nothing. Besides, you could use the power boost."

"That's true, I suppose. I can't learn the higher vampiric arts for a few more centuries, and I can't use my paladin magics anymore."

"Hey, don't complain, at least you used to be........ oh my gods."


They had arrived at the battlefield. However, it was not so much a battlefield.... as a graveyard. Instead of the chaotic brawl that Storm had witnessed before, the area was silent and still, littered with hundreds of thousands of corpses, werewolf and vampire alike. The iconic gray grass of Darkovia had been stained deep crimson, and masses of crows circled overhead. Surveying the area, Storm saw small, scattered groups of survivors, both sides too exhausted and overwhelmed to continue fighting. There seemed to be more werewolves remaining than vampires, but just barely.

Suddenly, a dark figure leaped out of the shadows towards them. The newcomer landed in front of Storm, and they saw that it was a tall, muscular vampire wearing a black suit. He was wounded and bloody, clearly having taken a beating from the werewolves. Instantly, Gale recognized the figure and spoke up.

"Sire Victor. You've had a rough day, it seems."

"Silence, traitor! You stand here, affiliating with our enemies, yet you dare to judge me!?"


Then, Victor turned towards Storm, seething with rage. Storm felt dark power building up inside the Sire's body.

"And you! Your disgusting kind murdered all of our best men! Our queen is missing because of you!"

"Because of me? Not likely. I was locked up in your castle dungeon, being tortured."

"What!? It's YOU! You're the escaped prisoner! I will enjoy making you SUFFER!"


Victor thrust his hands out, and a swarm of black bats materialized, launching themselves at Storm and Gale. Gale held his arms up above his head, and a dome-shaped barrier of darkness surrounded them both. The dark bats impacted into the shield and dissipated into nothingness. Gale dropped the barrier, panting heavily. Storm reached up to lift the sword he had stolen earlier from around his shoulder, but found that it was too heavy for him to lift one-handed. As he struggled with the sword, Victor pounced at the weary Gale. Suddenly, however, a heavy black blade smashed into his back, interrupting his pounce and slamming him into the ground. Looking up, Victor saw Storm standing there, now transformed into his werewolf state. The extra muscle mass granted by the transformation enabled him to heft the sword one-handed with ease.

Gale drew his own sword, and rammed it into Victor's shoulder. As Victor screamed in pain, Storm raised his sword above his head, prepared to issue the finishing blow. With a whoosh of black, however, Victor blasted Gale with a swarm of bats point-blank, leaped to his feet, and kicked Storm hard in the stomach. As both Gale and Storm reeled backwards from their respective blows, Victor began charging up an enormous amount of dark magic. All of a sudden, an ear-splitting howl rang out. Storm smelled something familiar, and a dark, hairy shape suddenly smashed into Victor, interrupting his spell and knocking him into the ground. Standing before them was a jet-black Dire Werewolf, snarling with rage. Storm recognized this particular werewolf as Xander, one of Constantin's mightiest lieutenants.

Realizing that this newcomer was too strong for him in his current state, Victor snapped his fingers and vanished in a pillar of darkness. Xander snorted in disgust.

"Coward. He's fled to lick his wounds. No matter, it's too late. The Cure is ours. Now, there's only one more matter to attend to....."

With immense speed, Xander turned and grabbed Gale, hoisting him up by his neck. Storm's eyes narrowed, and he raised his sword cautiously. Xander spoke again, a threatening tone to his voice.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull your head off right now, vampire."

Gale sputtered and coughed in response, struggling with the enormous hand around his neck. Xander growled and began to tighten his grip, when he suddenly felt a sharp point jabbing into his back. Storm let out a low growl, and pressed his sword slightly harder into the Dire Werewolf's back. After a moment, he spoke in a tone somewhere between coldness and rage.

"I'll give you a reason. It's because he's my brother."

"Your brother? Why have you so thoroughly betrayed our pack!?"

"I haven't. My brother was captured and turned years ago. This is no betrayal."

"You still threaten one above your station. That is treason."

"I am loyal to my family, no matter what. I respect the values of the pack, but I will not betray my principles. Harm him, and you become my enemy."

"Oh? Is that a challenge, young alpha? I'd like to see you try and fight me."

"It absolutely is a challenge. Drop him, or I gut you like a fish."


In response to this statement, Xander began to chuckle, a content look on his face. This response stunned Storm, who had been expecting a violent reaction. Xander released his grip on Gale, who dropped to the ground, spluttering for air. After a moment, Xander turned to Storm and clapped a hand onto his shoulder.

"Well spoken, young alpha. I respect your integrity."

"Huh? I don't understand... you were angry just a moment ago...."

"When I heard that he was your brother, I felt the need to test your resolve."

".....Why?"

"I needed to see how far you were willing to go. You act with fire and conviction, and refuse to abandon your code. That's good. With so few of us remaining, we need all the brave fighters we can get, especially with His Majesty having vanished....."

"And as for my brother?"

"He will be spared. Although allying with vampires is not our custom, this is an unusual circumstance. As long as he does not oppose us, he will live."


At this point, Gale finally caught his breath and felt the need to interject in the conversation.

"Thank you, sir. Do you know of anywhere I can stay?"

"I'm afraid not. Our den has been destroyed, and you would not be permitted entrance even if it weren't. You must seek shelter elsewhere, vampire. Now, I have other matters to attend to, leave me be."


Storm and Gale looked at each other and shrugged, then decided to heed Xander's command and leave him to whatever he was doing. Together, they decided to head down to the battlefield to aid the wounded. Deciding to avoid any more confrontations with the opposing sides, Storm and Gale split up, Storm joining the gathered werewolves and Gale doing the same for the vampires. Although the war was over, it was clear that the animosity between the two sides would not end, and indeed would most likely grow stronger. The werewolves had indeed seized the cure, although their numbers were so few that studying its mutagenic properties was no longer the top priority. It no longer mattered which side had won, as they would both be struggling forward into the future. Perhaps one day they could evolve as they desired, but not this day. This day was a day of great loss.

End of Chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------

Epilogue: The Aftermath


Scene: Darkovia, Northern Mountains. Storm and Gale are sitting at the top of a cliff.


They had traveled to the top of the cliff, so that the stragglers from both sides would not disturb them. Minor skirmishes had broken out when both sides tried to retrieve the bodies of their dead, but the war was otherwise over. Most of the remaining werewolves had been posted at the entrance to the source of the cure, knowing that the vampires were even more badly weakened than they were. With few remaining to guard them, the prisoners of both sides had almost all escaped. Constantin and Safiria were still unaccounted for.

After having spent the past several hours wearing nothing but some ragged trousers, Storm had finally taken the opportunity to put on some proper armor once again. It was a faded silver color, and far thinner than the thick plate that Storm had grown used to. Supplementing the armor was a blueish-purple longcoat, which had shimmering magical runes around the hem. When Gale had asked him where exactly he had found this outfit, Storm had sheepishly admitted to stealing it off of a corpse. As Storm peered down at the werewolves below, who were in the process of burying their dead, Gale was examining Storm's limp arm.

"You said that this was a consequence of your fight with Caius. How exactly did it happen?"

"Well, I found him at the top of this cliff. He used some dark magic to chain me up. I shattered the chains and tackled him off the edge. That arm must've taken the brunt of the fall."

"You're lucky you didn't land on your head. Ah well, I know some very good healers, they should be able to restore it at least partially."

"No. I'm not having it healed."


At this, Gale's eyes widened. He stared at Storm in shock, perhaps wondering if he had misheard. When next he spoke, his voice was uncertain.

"Wha...What? Why not?"

"This injury is a symbol."

".....Symbol of what?"

"Oh, a few things. The folly of revenge, my loyalty to my family, or even a symbol of pride. Take your pick."

"Pfft, yeah right. You just want to show off by fighting one-handed, don't you?"


Suddenly, Storm burst into a huge grin, and began to laugh. Gale began to chuckle himself, and he wrapped his arm around Storm's shoulder. As Storm calmed down, he spoke up again.

"So, Gale, where are you going to stay? With Victor after your head, you'd hardly be welcome among the vamps."

"What, don't you have a house?"

"Well, I did, but it kinda got burnt down."

"Burnt down!?"

"Long story. Anyway, I can't afford a new one."

"Hmm. I wonder if anyone has purchased mother's old estate...."

"I don't think so. Why?"

"We could, ah, occupy it, so to speak."

"Really? Hijacking an abandoned house? I don't remember you being such a rule-breaker."

"The vampires have a very strict sense of authority. Eleven years of that, and you'd have a rebellious streak too."

"It's good to have you back, Gale."

"You too, Storm."


Suddenly, Storm looked down at the werewolves below, then looked up at Gale again. He had clearly remembered something that he had been meaning to say for quite some time. Gale didn't seem to notice the change in body language, so Storm decided to go ahead and speak.

"Oh, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you."

"Go on."

"Now that we werewolves control the cure, would you like to be human again?"

"What, and give up my awesome fangs and immortality? No thanks! Besides, red and black are good colors for me."

"Fair enough, I suppose. I mean, I'm not getting cured either, so I guess I can't expect you to."


Standing up, Storm struggled for a moment to pull a gauntlet over his damaged hand. Taking pity on him, Gale took Storm's hand and slid the fingers into the gauntlet. As Storm pulled down the sleeve of his new coat, Gale stood up himself. Together, the two of them turned and began to walk back down the path that led to the clifftop. Gale himself was carrying a small bag. Visible inside the bag were several vials of an odd, glowing green liquid, labeled "for experimentation".....

The End




kors -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/5/2014 23:10:11)

Fur and Fang

Part I: First Night Time
The eternal night of Darkovia rose over the horizon. It was barely midday and the stars were already visible due to the unnatural aura of the forest. Kor did not think that he would be pulled into the politics of the place again like this, in another power struggle between the two oldest sides. But here he was, a werepyre fighting for the werewolves.

He was surprised by the fact that he was being joined by a couple of familiar faces, former allies from Xov's assault on Paxia and veterans of the last Paladin and Necromancer war. The Wolf Pack as they were calling themselves were anxious to find the reason for the reignition of the centuries old conflict. Kor was not the only member of the "Pack" to not be a wolf, Rinia had taken this opportunity to go back to the former home of one of the Lady's holiest places.

Her Paladin upbringing convinced her to fight against the enemy more in line with her former life. The paladin turned mercenary held a serious look on her face as she walked in formation. She realized the fact that she was the only human in the group who had not lived in the tainted forest for any significant portion of her life and it put her at unease.

"How much do you know of Darkovia?" Kor asked.

Rinia looked up at him and gave an embarrassed smile, “Not too much, most of it is from what the Order taught. I never got stationed there, being one of the more sheltered members.” She fingered the pommel of the old sword she always carried with her. “Are we sure the werewolves will be able to control themselves? I mean you always hear about the ferocity of a werewolf in areas like this, never how they can be more like the human they are.”

“Heh, shows how much you paladins know,” a familiar voice said, “The ones here shouldn’t be much of a problem. All of them are part of a pack. Well, I guess the pack? I have never heard of another pack in the region really.” Madara Uchiha smiled as he wrapped his arms around the pair.

A death glare was all Rinia could come up with to counter his thinly veiled insult. Once she felt the former necromancer got her message, she turned to Kor, “Is this really the best idea? I know I need to make a living but this just seems... I don’t know.”

The faint light of the Darkovian moon came into view. He felt urges similar to the wolves around him, to let his Darkovian side out. He was not a werewolf, but something frowned upon by both sides in this war. A werepyre. Not something Kor thought many in this crowd would like to see at the moment. Yet the desire to shed his human form came all the same, as it did for the werewolves around him.

His agitation was clear enough to Rinia for her to connect the dots, “Kor?” A concerned voice broke Kor’s train of thought and brought him back to his current situation. She looked around and saw similar looks on many faces, all of them werewolves. “I thought you said that you weren’t a werewolf...,” the nervous smile he gave had gave it all away, “No... You’re not a vampire either right?”

Now the attention of every werewolf within their enhanced earshot focused on them, the word drawing their attention like a wolf who has caught sight of it’s prey. Kor needed to explain fast, or the Wolf Pack might just take their first kill. “Right. I’m neither, I am a werepyre.” The sound of growls sounded throughout the lines, but they were less directly antagonistic than Kor expected. He doubted Rinia or Madara heard even one. “Well, welcome to your first night in Darkovia, Rinia. It’s going to be fun,” sarcasm dripped off his voice as he held onto Caliburn as it lit up, sensing the cursed touch of Erebus' longstanding machinations.

Part II: Howled Message
The camp stood with a clear divide. A gap appeared between the two races in the places they were to sleep, but both were quite noisy. The sounds of pre-battle banter and partying rang through the dead and blackened trees that made their home on the edges of the cursed forest. Campfires burned bright enough to scare away the vampiric monsters of the forest.

"Come on, stay for dinner! The chosen can't be too much use on an empty stomach. Sit," Madara shouted, clearing a spot, as Kor wandered towards where the werewolves had ran off to hunt. It was a weird feeling being among wolves again. The entire forest called for him to lose his humanity and indulge in the practices of werepyres.

He took Madara's word of advice and sat down next to the commander of the Wolf Pack. A bowl was quickly passed his way as well as some strange soup. The scent of garlic was almost overpowering in the concoction Kor was about to eat. "Good idea, make us all smell like garlic to scare off the vampires," he sniffed at it one more time and decided it was not the best idea with his mixed blood, "You know, I think I'll pass."

As he stood up a howl resonated through the camp. It was different from the ones earlier, less excited and more purposeful. A werewolf made his way to where Kor and Madara were seated and kneeled, "Looks like we have a fellow wolf with a message from our king. Do you wish to see him now?" His tail wagged happily as he spoke.

A moment of thought was all it took for Madara to come to a decision. "Yeah," he nodded once as he stood up, "Bring him to my tent. Oh, and get some of our best and send them with our guest." The werewolf nodded once and howled as soon as he stood up. Not many of the humans around him seemed to enjoy the loud noise so close to them.

"What do you say, Kor? Gonna be the werepyre's representative?" The human organizer said as he made his way to his tent.

"Give me a moment, I'll be there shortly," Kor walked off towards the woods and vanished.

***


The howling gave Rinia no respite to think, and she felt like she needed to think. She still struggled with the revelations of the last few hours. Her teachings had always said that the undead were always the enemy, even if she no longer was what the teachings were meant to make her she still followed them. She had help what would have been her enemy, she fought alongside him.

A close by howl derailed the train of thought that had struggled to remain on track. “That is it! I am done with this!” she stood up quickly. She knocked over her sword and it clattered on the dirt.

“Hey, you okay?” someone shouted.

Rinia sighed. “Not much use freaking out now is there? I told myself I could do this, just need a walk to calm my nerves,” she thought as she replied to the stranger who voiced his concern. She left her tent and wandered through the bustling camp.

All around her she noticed that all the former Darkovian residents seemed relatively unaffected by the constant howling. Some of them had even taken to mimicking the howls. It all just need to stop, she just couldn’t stand it. The woods just beyond the camp seemed to be her best bets for some quiet. She just needed another hour or two to think.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Who knows what is out there? And didn’t that werepyre go into the forest too?” a soldier grabbed her arm as she neared the camp’s perimeter. His buddies all nodded in agreement. He let go of her arm, “Lords only know if there are more of them in the ‘Wolf Pack’. Those things are worse than either the vampires or the werewolves combined.” “Great, as if I needed something else to make my life harder...”

Before she could retreat into the forest another voice called out. “You’re Rinia Paladius, correct? Commander Uchiha wishes you to attend the meeting with the messenger from King Constantin,” the runner barely took enough time for Rinia to nod before he ran off in the opposite direction.

It was then that an unusual howl echoed through the full moon’s light. The tone was the same as most of the others she had heard, of relief, of release. The sound was what set it apart, it was not wolf-like. At least, not fully. The reaction of several of the soldiers and the reaction audible from the wolf’s side of the camp told her all she need to know.

Part III: Werepyre
The nearly identical trees slowly hid the lights of the camp behind him. It was the perfect spot to switch to something more comfortable for what he was going to do. Kor couldn’t wear the armor he wore almost everywhere else, his wings and tail just would not fit. He had made some heavily altered armor just for an occasion like this, and now was the perfect time to use it.

He looked up at the eternal moon of the region, a constant companion to all who lived under it’s imposing glare. The first changes washed over him, canines enlarging to full on fangs. Their very structure changing in order to suck up the blood of whatever was unlucky enough to be on the other end of them.

A howl of another werepyre told Kor that he was not alone, that there would be a reluctant alliance for now. That made him smile as his face pulled forward into a canine muzzle. His sense of smell changed, became sensitive to the scents unnoticeable to the human nose hidden away in these dark woods. He could see the start of his pelt poke its way on the edge of his shifting face. The black fur was only a few shades darker than his human hair.

His ears twitched as every sound around him intensified while they journeyed up his head. They became longer and longer, settling at a size somewhere between a wolf's and a bat's. The hair in their way moved and the hair around them took on a new texture and color become like his ears, something the two forms that made up the werepyre's curse.

The changes spread down his back. Early nubs of his bat-like wings began forming as the black fur grew down his spine. The feeling of the fur erupting from all over was extraordinary. It was almost euphoric.

His growing wings started to creak and crack. The wings grew out, stretching and changing his skin along with adding more muscle and bone to his body. His tail began to form the instant his fur touched the edge of his spine. It's growth caused even more creaking and cracking all the while the the black fur spread down the growing appendage.

Muscles all over his body began to spasm lightly, gaining mass all over his body. It was not much, but it would help. Then came the final couple changes.

His hands and feet shifted into a less human shape. Nails shifting shape and color into brutal claws. Both his hands and feet gained leathery pads on the ends of each digit and palms. His newly formed paws forced his stance to change to a more bestial stance, finishing his changes.

He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and howled, it was something about Darkovia that made him want to shed his human form and be the monstrous being whose form he had assumed. Other howls made their way to him, howls of other werepyres. Kor could not help but laugh as the howls of werewolves shifted from excited partying to a more cautious tone as the howls of his kin mixed with wolves’. He opened his unnaturally glowing eyes, all of his eye produced a pale blue glow that blocked anyone from seeing what was hidden underneath those lights.

After quickly dressing himself, Kor made his way back to the camp. Caliburn’s blade burned blue in Kor’s paws as it sent his curse. Glares of several of the humans between where he re-entered the camp and Madara’s tent. The feelings of many Darkovians did not change over time, them and their ancestors had sworn to pay tribute in exchange for safety to either of the currently warring sides. It was only in the last few years that the werepyres were active in this conflict.

***


The area surrounding the pavilion was bustling with many people as they discussed the coming battles. Word had only arrived that the war was already well under way, the Wolf Pack would be late comers but still instrumental in making this war a quick skirmish. All of the non-human soldiers were proudly shifted into their more wolfish forms. Their tails all swished in the cold night air anxiously awaiting their king’s message. The humans on the other hand were anxious to find out where they were to fight, where to prove themselves to the king of the werewolves in the hopes of scoring a position in the court of some importance.

Kor immediately went towards the one other werepyre among the group. When he closed in, he noticed how similar it was to someone he already knew. “Never thought a paladin would be undead, Wyrm,” Kor smiled as he patted the fellow werepyre.

It took the Paxian paladin a few seconds to recognize the person greeting him. It had been a long time since Paxia, and longer still to the few split seconds the two had met during the necromancer’s and paladin’s last war. When Kor’s identity finally dawned on him, Wyrm finally spoke, “Long time no see, Kor! You would be amazed at what has happened in the last few months, heck Popinloopy’s even a dracopyre now.”

Kor gave him an incredulous look and searched for a dracopyre hidden among the humans and wolves. “He didn’t come, did he?” Kor questioned, continuing to scan the crowd. Not a single being in sight looked remotely like a dracopyre.

The paladin werepyre began to snicker as the Chronomancer continued to search fruitlessly through the crowd. A sigh from his left and then a familiar voice made Kor blush out of sheer embarrassment but was hidden well enough by his fur, “I am right here. A dracopyre would not be the most welcome addition to our armor at the moment don’t you think?”

An awkward smile creeped up Kor’s muzzle as Popin began to laugh. Once his laughter died down, Wyrm asked, “What do you think we are going to hear from the messenger? All I’ve heard is the fighting’s already started. If that’s all he came to say... well I don’t see the point in him coming here.”

***


After a couple of minutes Rinia felt that Kor was going to be difficult to find. Despite the fact that none of the werewolves had large fangs or wings as she knew a werepyre would she could not find even one in the area around the pavilion. She was sure he had changed, and that he was not the only one in the camp. All she wanted was to know if he, like all she had heard of the Darkovian creatures, was a bloodthirsty, savage monster.

Only one side had somewhat proven that her way of life was not entirely true. Even then it was strenuously proven. She still did not trust that any of the beings that terrorized the normal humans everyday could be good at all. It just did not fully click in her head.

She made her way through the crowd, constantly vigilant for any werepyre that might be Kor. A few undead guarding the tent Madara had occupied taken the messenger and a handful of his tacticians. Not someplace that she expect Kor to be. There were few places she had yet to cover in the area.

It was then she saw what she wanted to see, a pair of werepyres. The only two she could see nearby. “Ah hah! Found you, you sneaky dog!” the comment got her more than a few dirty looks from the werewolves closeby.

Before she even could talk to him, the whole area quieted down as Madara and his guest left the tent. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to the tent. “Alright, we have our mission Wolf Pack!” cheers and howls went up, “Your magnificent king has discovered the source of the Cure, and intends to manipulate it’s power for the benefit of the Pack! We shall rout those pesky blood drinkers from their camp near the source and claim it in honor of the werewolf king!”

Over the next five minutes the cheering and howling only got louder. The news spread through the camp, spreading the noisy signs of approval even further. Madara only smiled as he looked at the messenger with a knowing look on his face.

***


Once it had calmed down, Kor and the others made their way to Madara. After a few last minute heroics to defend Paxia, he had become something of a celebrity among those who were there. Yet again he was on his way to being a rising star among the warring elite. Almost all of those gather around had been there.

They interrupted the conversation between the two, which was looking like it was heading towards disaster. “You all must be friends of Madara, no?” the werewolf asked when they came close, “I can’t recognize any of your scents, so I am guessing you are not a fellow Aerodu?”

All of them shook their heads. “I don’t think any of them know you Storm. While you were a great pilot and all, you never really met any of them face to face. And I suppose it doesn’t help that your face is covered by fur either,” Madara smirked.

Storm sighed. “Well,” he said preparing himself for whatever might come next, “I am sorry but I do not think the terms that you are asking for are reasonable. There are traditions and such that are obeyed within the pack. We can’t go against them.” He stepped back as the others gave Madara a curious look.

“I’ll explain later,” he said as he walked back to his tent, “In another two hours, we march for the vampire’s war camp. If Constantine won’t consider my conditions for an army, why not give him a little help in his consideration?”

Part IV: Temporal Errors
The night wore on and on. As people retreated into their tents as their fires died out, the roar that had permeated the camp dieing out with them. In only a few more hours they would leave for the battlefield.

“I guess there is nothing to worry about, huh?” the young lady examined Kor. The idea of being friends with an undead being was still a new idea to here. She had become more and more comfortable with the idea as it steadily became clear that Lore was not just black and white.

The Chronomancer had certainly become a formidable ally and friend over the last year. It was thanks to him that her career as a mercenary really set off. Despite the fact that he had inadvertently altered her life, Rinia felt no real ill will towards him. It was not a surprise that she was not too disturbed anymore. Maybe she even...

***


The vampire lunged at her, trying to sink it’s fangs into her. She slashed at the foul being, Holy Might making quick work of the fanged menace. How did she end up there? Something was missing, the ash pile and it’s comrades spoke to that testament.

She dodged the slash of another vampire’s blade, blocked a third one’s claws, and countered. They were relentlessly attacking her. Her mind focused on the three’s movements, forgetting the sudden changes momentarily. Each blow to the undead monsters became harder and harder.

Where had everyone gone? They seemed to be alone in the dark woods. The rhythm of battle was drowning out all other thoughts in her head, but those other thoughts were just loud enough to keep her on her toes. A vampire broke through her guard and sank its teeth in her arm. Into her sword arm.

The blade bounced once off the black dirt. Both the other two saw their opportunity to attack. They lunged at her, shouting something at her. Their words blurred together and made it impossible to understand them.

"I did not want to have to use my mana like this!" she thought as she formed the spell. The energy drained from her body as it began taking a form that she could use to harm her enemies. It was a spell so closely tied to her former occupation, and this land's original form. Its light burned both of the vampires lunging at her and healed her.

Both of them staggered just long enough for her to escape the third's fangs and retrieve the sword. After a few steps back, she had her chance to survey the battlefield. In the distance there were signs of a struggle, of what was to come hours later. What was supposed to come hours later. “Why are we here now? We were still on the outskirts... I thought...,” she sliced the second vampire clean in half. “Where is that Chronomancer when you need him? This , happens where he gets involved.”

The other two stared at her for a moment. Their faces were paler than normal. Once they overcame their shock, they fled. Rinia had a smug smile on her face as she shouted, “Yeah! Take that you filthy blood drinkers!”

***


Kor struck a large vampire lord as it tore at a werewolf. The bright blue flames of Caliburn devoured the dead flesh of the vampire with ease. It staggered backwards as the holy power made its way through the vampire. After a few seconds, the sword's magic finished the monster off.

"Okay… this is not good," Kor thought as he looked around. He had not used his magic to move to this point, and he had never heard of anyone doing such things involuntarily.

The sky above had changed as well, no longer were there any signs of the lands past the cursed forest. Dark clouds hung around the bright moon, making the night as dark as anywhere else. Faint howls echoed through the trees as werewolves were both the victim and attacker.

A vamp strayed from the main field, to where Kor and the dead members from both sides were still located. She smiled and licked her fangs, "Well well well, what do we have here? A mangy mutt trying to be a vampire? Here, let me take those fangs off your hands!” Her charge was surprisingly quick, she managed to bite into Kor’s neck after breaking through his guard.

Surprisingly, the bit did not hurt as much as he thought it would. It was still not pleasant however, he could feel his strength, and blood, being drained from him. She was enjoying the blood, as most vampires did enjoy their meals. Kor could not, for whatever reason, bring himself to break her hold. Her dark aura left him under her control, turning him into a thrall for her feasting.

The moments began to blur together as the vamp continued to drink. Nothing else mattered more than the slow loss of blood. Kor no longer knew, or even cared, what had brought these strange events to pass. Was it the anomaly that had brought him to this specific point in time that was causing this blurring?

***


“So, you know the Chronomancer?” a voice from behind Rinia spoke that set every hair she had on end. She spun to face its source. It was an odd man, dressed in the elegant clothes of a noble. “It has been too long since I last saw that one.”

It took her no time to notice the fangs just barely visible as he spoke. He was not an old vampire, for he did not give off the same alluring aura of oppression that the elder vampires were surrounded by. Her blade was readied in that small instant it took. “How do you know Kor?” she pointed the blade at his smug smile.

Before she could react the vampire had his hands on Holy Might, holding the bladed edge and smiled. “You paladin’s never did fully get how to properly enchant such tools... That thing is not much better than a common light sword for now. It will prove much easier for us to talk if you can’t harm me as well, won’t it?” his face became even more smug as he pushed the blade down, “Now the first question, which side has Kor decided to fight for?”

Rinia glared at him. She admitted that he was right, Holy Might’s magic had waned before her very eyes as soon as he had laid hands on it. “Werewolves,” was all she said.

“Thank you for cooperating, I, Lord Scorpio, was saved by your friend after a former comrade of yours nearly killed me. He had made all that difference in defeating him, a paladin. Did he ever tell you... hmm... It seems I never got your name. Will you be so kind as to tell me?” he looked at her intensely. He expected an answer.

"Ri... Ri... Rinia," she stammered. . "I thought that Lord Scorpio... er... you had died back then..."

He sighed. "So your allies think I died? Hm...," he paused. Scorpio began walking around Rinia nonchalantly. "Do you know who he is fighting for? Muts or vampires? I can tell that you, like any of your "true" brethren hate my kind, no doubt you are with those wolves," stopped behind her.

"You have been a great help tonight Rinia. For a paladin to even take a second to talk before trying to strike an undead down proves that even the least honorable groups can have those shining beacons of honor!" He wrapped his arms around her and then a strange sensation overcame her. "Fall asleep... I need you to fall asleep,” the voice spoke to her in an alluring tone. She did not want to listen as it repeated those words over and over, but in the end they won. The strangely warm embrace of a forced sleep took her away from the battlefield.

“Heh... Seems us filthy blood drinkers still have a few tricks up our sleeves. Shame it had to come to this though,” Scorpio bound her and lifted her unconscious body up. If Kor was with the werewolves, he need a way to keep him from trying to kill him on sight. It was dishonorable, but it was what was need to be done.

Part V: Broken Reality
It did not take long for Scorpio to find the Chronomancer. The spot had been not too far from where Scorpio found the paladin girl. Kor had been enthralled by an ally of his and she had seemed to be enjoying the taste of his mixed blood rather greatly. “I would slow down if I were you, Tressa. We can’t have a werepyre as one of Safiria’s personal guard, can we?” he glared at her as she ignored him and continued to drink.

The start of her changes into a werepyre were beginning to make itself clear to the rest of the world. Her body began to cover itself in fur, her ears growing in length and moving up her head. Scorpio sighed, did she not care about her important role in the vampiric court? He had his orders to kill anyone who got in the way of taking the source, defectors included. Only a few more moments and she would no longer be considered a vampire.

He blood blade began calling for the blood of the traitorous vamp. She had her warning and ignored it, she was in his way, she was defecting to another side, and slowly killing someone the ex-general owed a favor to. All these added up to give him reason to strike her down now. He plunged the dark blade through her chest, just barely piercing the werepyre’s armor. Tressa crumbled into a pile red ashes before his eyes, her death breaking most of her hold over the werepyre. Kor fell to ground, partly because of the sheer shock of the vamp’s demise.

***


The world around Kor began to return to normal. “Augh... What happened? Stupid vamps. Can’t let my guard down like that again,” he rubbed his eyes as he slowly broke through the haze. There was almost no energy in his body at the moment, he barely had enough to even move his arm.

A familiar voice called out to him, one he had not heard for ages. “You still alive there?” a light kick brought him almost fully out of hazy world he was still clawing free of. His vision cleared enough for him to make out the person standing before him. A man he had not seen in ages stood over him, vampiric blade in hand. “So you’ve broken what remained of Tressa’s hold? Good.”

Lord Scorpio handed Kor a pair of blood red potions. He gingerly sniffed both of them as he weakly lifted them up. The metallic scent of the contents made it perfectly clear just what was in the glass bottles. Kor drank both potions fairly eagerly, knowing how blood affected his vampiric half.

The healing power of the blood potions worked and restored some of his physical strength. He sat up and looked Scorpio in the eye, “Long time no see. I guess you survived that day, huh?” Kor rubbed the red ashes off his chest and observed the battlefield.

“I did,” Scorpio began walking away, “Now, I need to warn you.” A large, pitch black wolf emerged from behind the trees pulling a small sled with Rinia tied to it. Kor began to growl as he saw the girl being dragged into the clearing.




flashbang -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/7/2014 0:25:58)

Prologue: Rally of War
Werewolf Side:
Powerful 3

Popin’s P.O.V

A message is sent to all the werewolves and vampires.


Grrr . . . Listen up! It’s time to join the pack and destroy the Vampyres! Now that we have found the cure, it’s time to evolve!Those Stupid Vampyres decided to try and take this from us! US! The superior race, the true rulers of Darkovia! We’ll just have to destroy them, and then destroy the Dracopyres!

~Constantine


A certain man, a paladin in fact, is in Yulgar’s Inn, reading the letter.As popinloopy read over the message, he did so with a frown. “Hmmm. A way to evolve? This sounds interesting . . .”
“Hey popin! How’s it going?” popin jumped slightly when he heard the loud voice in his ear.
“By the Lords! Wyrm don’t do that again!”
“So, what'cha readin’?” Wyrm asked.
“A message from Constantine. Apparently, they can mutate the Cure to make them evolve!”
“I wonder if it works for Werepyres . . .” Wyrm was talking so quietly I had to lean across the table to hear him.
“Who are you going to fight for, popin?” Wyrm quickly changed subject, now I really wanted to know.
“The Werewolves. Why do you ask?”
“I wanted to know if we’ll fight on the battlefield or not. Afterall, I’m fighting for the werewolves, having had once been infected with lycanthropy myself.” This intrigued me. One, I knew very little of his past, except why he became a Paladin and two, I need to know anything that would help me in the war, if I would be the tactician. Which I most likely will be.
Suddenly, Madara Uchiha teleported into the third chair at the table Wyrm and I were sitting at.
“Hey guys, hear about the new war?” While most would be surprised, this was a normal occurrence ever since the #PalaPact’s and #NecroLegion’s main troops became friends.
“Yes we have Muchiha, we’re both fighting for the Lycans, what about you?” Wyrm asked.
Muchiha grinned and replied, “Great, we’ll be able to tear through Vampyres together!”
And thus, our third great adventure began.


Yay! Extras!
Suddenly, a wild Madara Uchiha appeared!
Wyrm sent out popinloopy!
What will you do? Talk, Attack, Spell, or Equip Change?
Wyrm chose Talk!
What will you say?





UnderSoul -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/7/2014 10:14:19)

Blood and Power


Lord Scorpio sat restless in his house. Nestled in the woods of Darkovia, it was a prime target for attack by the many beasts that lived within. Most of them were no problem, but recently there have been stirrings. Constantine's pack going after the Cure, trying to mutate it and warp it to their use. As an honour-bound soldier of the Queen, he knew it would only be a short time before he followed the call to war. He sharpened his favourite blade, Creativity, a sword that was feared throughout the lands during the Truphma wars. These wolves, however, would not be so simple.

The ex-general set out for the battlefield, sword in hand. He spotted a pale-skinned scout.

"You there!" he commanded, "What news have you of the conflicts?"

"Sorry this note is only to be in the hands of the most trusted soldier of the Queen, one-" replied the indignant young vampire.

"Lord Scorpio? I am he. Unless you wish to face my wrath, and Lady Safiria's, give me the news."

That was all it took. The scout quickly handed over a letter and, after stuttering over several apologies, waited for the noble's reaction to the letter. Lord Scorpio looked at it, and found all too familiar handwriting.

To the "noble" Lord Scorpio,
Have you gotten cozy in your cabin? I've hardly seen you. As I'm sure you know, King Constantine is massing to get his hands on some evolutionary new power. I'm afraid there's little you can do, though I know you'll try. Last time we met, the outcome was not in your favour. Now, I work by side of one you are very familiar with. You do remember Muchiha, don't you. The co-general that, along with you of course, waged that last, desperate offensive so very long ago? It will be an... honor... to cross blades with you once more.
~popinlooopy


The warrior crushed the note and turned to the messenger, who was standing there with a nervous expression.

"Tell Safiria," Lord Scorpio smiled, showing an unmistakable pair of fangs, "Lord Scorpio is reporting for duty.

Change of Command

Lord Scorpio arrived at the Royal Military Camp, Safiria herself was presiding over it. As he looked around, he saw many unfamiliar faces. He was disappointed, but cheered up when he realized he'd have a challenge for the first time since his defeat against the Paladins. He went up to the Queen's regally decorated war tent and requested an audience.

"Sorry, only top generals allowed." replied the guard.

"Scorpio." was all the noble said. It proved to be enough and the guard waved him in.

"Lady Safiria, I came as fast as I heard." Scorpio was eager for a chance to get into the war.

"Ah, Scorpio," the Queen, being familiar with the general, saw no need to address him by title, "we have an issue. Those filthy wolves have found the source of the Cure. They have gained a considerable lead and could gain unspeakable power should they succeed." Her accent was especially noticeable when upset.

"Then it is worse than I thought. Just tell me which troops are mine and I promise you'll see improvement." Scorpio loved the command role, there was nothing better than watching an army run through a war smoother than a greased-up Gween.

"The same improvement your Legion saw?" Safiria became very business-like, almost uncaring, as she said the next line. "I have decided it for the best if you join the battle with the lesser soldiers. A lesson in actual fighting should teach you how to better your command."

Scorpio was stunned. He was being demoted! He loved a good fight, but footwork? He eventually resigned to his fate.

"As you wish... my Queen.

Joining the War

Lord Scorpio was given one dignity, he was assigned to a special squad. He was to defend the battlefield while other of Safiria's force went to protect the castle, and still more left to assault the wolves' den. He was placed under the command of Victor, a high-ranking vamp whom Scorpio had never met before, and who didn't even bother showing up to lead the patrol. The ex-general was given a standard vamp soldier's uniform and a generic Blood Blade, which he was allowed to use in conjunction with Creativity. The patrol was rather boring, until a loud howling noise was heard from the trees.

"I've got a bad feeling about this.." said the young warrior next to him.

As the soldier finished his sentence, a large hairy beast launched from the tree-line. Far larger than any Scorpio had seen before. The monstrosity leapt at at one poor vamp, tossing him across the field. Scorpio drew both his swords and charged the werewolf.

"Dirty beast," he said as he closed the gap, "I'll show you how a real wolf fights."

As he said that, his shadow swirled and formed into a smoky black wolf. A pure, simple wolf forged of shadow. The wolf charged the monster and, upon reaching its target, exploded, knocking the beast to the ground. Lord Scorpio jumped into the air, landing blades-down on the creature. It howled in pain, but got up, tossing Scorpio to the ground. The noble rolled and tried to get as much distance between the two of them as possible. He started calling out to the remaining soldiers, who were cowering behind him.

"You two! Head to the left and get its attention, Tronicx and I will launch at him before he can do any damage." The warriors looked around, confused that Scorpio was giving orders.

"Um," Tronicx spoke up, "I thought Safiria said that Victor was in charge, and you're too unreliable to take command."

"Victor's not here, and Safiria tends to prefer her troops to stay alive as long as possible, so you're going to have to deal with it."

The soldiers executed the command, and the beast was staggered. When it was off-balance, Scorpio charged at the dire monster, plunging his short vampiric blade into its face. The beast recoiled, stumbled around, and finally fell back dead. It had not been dead for more than two seconds, however, when Scorpio felt a blade's edge at his throat.

"Why don't you explain," started his captor, "what magic it was that you used. Unless, of course, you want me to go to the Queen and tell her that her formerly favoured general's first rule of battle is summoning wolves?"

An Audience With the Queen

"You," Scorpio reasoned, "must be Victor."

"Indeed, I also outrank you." Victor paused, "Now then, I believe you were about to try and reason for a chance to keep your new rank."

"I just used a bit of weak necromancy," Scorpio looked at the new general, "it happens to be what I'm known for. Granted, it's a bit on the small side nowadays."

"We'll see what you did."

"We?" asked Scorpio.

"Good evening, Lord Scorpio." Safiria appeared out of nowhere.

"My Queen, why have you come?" Scorpio ways more confused than nervous.

"I was told that more than one wolf fought in that fight, word travels fast when you're stalked by a proven general."

"Look," Scorpio was sick of explaining himself, "the direwolf charged me, and I fought back. Real wolves are noble, elegant, and above all lethal. Unlike the impotent savage I fought."

"Impotent?" Victor was shocked, "It took down most of my best men!"

"I see..." said the Queen, "If those were your best men, then it seems I have made a... mistake."

"My Queen," Victor had a bad feeling about this, "I... you don't mean..."

"Lord Scorpio, you are hereby restored to your former position at my side. Victor, you will not be demoted, but that may change if you do not correct your decisions for troops."

Victor scowled and vanished, leaving behind only a small group of bats.

"Scorpio."

"Yes, Lady Safiria?"

"You called that beast impotent. A dire wolf, one of Constantine's strongest, and most feral, troops. He's used them time and again, and never have they been called anything but fearsome. What then, do you consider to be strong."

"The Wolf Pack." replied the general, with a distant look in his eyes.

"The what? i have never heard of such a group."

"Powerful warriors and wizards, all in allegiance with Constantin. Many of my old friends are there, teaming up with my most vicious foes. Most of them made a name for themselves in the war between the necromancers and Paladins. Not all of them are werewolves, but I wouldn't be any more keen on facing them on the battlefield because of it."

"If that is true, we'll need you out there fighting. Grab whatever equipment you need, and show this Wolf Pack that we will never surrender. How would you put it... Fight with honor, and, should it be necessary, die with honour as well. Do try and survive though, and remember who the enemy is." With those words the Queen vanished, leaving an anxious Lord Scorpio alone on the battlefield.

The End Begins

By the time Lord Scorpio made it to the actual fighting, both sides were devastated. Unfortunately, Safiria's troops had taken a rougher beating to to the tenacity of the Lycan aggressors. The noble charged through the battlefield, using his magical skill to move his blades independently. as they formed a lethal ring around him, Scorpio used simple fire magic to send the beasts whimpering away. A couple managed to get close, but they realized to late that getting within arm's reach of a master swordsman is never a good idea. Unscathed, aside from some fur stuck to his swords, Lord Scorpio advanced towards the Lycan home-cave.

Scorpio sheathed his blades, crossing them over his back, as he approached. The cave was just coming into sight when a glowing yellow werewolf lunged at him. Scorpio had fought Lightcans before, but this one seemed particularly well trained. He infused his swords with Darkness, adding a bi of extra lethality to his attacks. When the Lightcan fell to its knees, Scorpio shot a beam of pure darkness energy out of his hands, reducing it to a much duller, much less alive, wolf corpse.

"Oh come on!" The voice seemed familiar, from days long past. "Do you have any idea how much gold it takes to get one of those, let alone truing them. Although, I guess I really should have known it wouldn't be enough."

Scorpio tracked the voice, and found a man sitting in a nearby tree. He was outfitted in red armour with a sword that seemed to exude evil, yet the man himself gave off an aura of violent benevolence. A Doomknight, who fought for the good. Scorpio knew of only one, and he was the last man Scorpio wanted to fight.

"Muchiha, my old friend." Scorpio greeted his aggressor. "It's been a year if it's been a day!"

"Lord Scorpio, I should've known Safiria would send you out for this. How've you been?" Muchiha never failed to converse with friends, no matter how odd the meeting.

"Oh, you know how wars go. A couple scars here and there, but nothing big. Demoted, promoted, that kind of stuff."

"Yeah... Listen, it was cool meeting up again, but I'm afraid I can't let you pass. Friend or not, I've got strict orders not to let any vamps pass." Muchiha's friendly tone turned grim, but not quite menacing.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Lord Scorpio leapt into the air and attempted to knock the weapon out of his friend's hand, but as his blade made contact Muchiha turned to shadow and melted away, reappearing on the ground. The two general crossed blades, proving to be equally matched. With each attack being met with a block on both sides, Scorpio was surprised to realize how much Muchiha's fighting style had changed since he lost his necromancy. Far from focusing purely on magic, Muchiha now worked it into his swordfighting, similar to Scorpio. As the two friends fought on and on, neither could gain an advantage over the other. Finally, Muchiha went for a powerful blow, and felt his blade lodge into something far less solid than Scorpio, but solid enough to fight. The Doomknight looked down to find his blade in a Shadow Wolf, with Scorpio behind him. Rather than explode as Scorpio's wolves normally did, it changed into shadowy ribbons, wrapping itself around the blade and its owner. Once Muchiha was completely covered except for the head, Scorpio waved his hand and the shadows turned to solid steel.

"Sorry about that, I don't want to hurt you but I need to get through. Just... stay put." With that, the noble vampire left, leaving a bound Muchiha, only angry that he didn't learn that first.

An Unfortunate Arrival

Lord Scorpio approached the home cave of the Wolf-King, which was in rather poor shape, and searched the entire cave far and wide, yet found nobody. He was confused by this lack of leadership, when he felt a familiar presence- make that presences. He look up to a rocky ledge and found the WolfPack standing together, including a now free Muchiha.

"You know you've lost right?" said popinloopy, echoing the words Scorpio said to him the last time they'd met. Though this time, the words were all too true.

"Where's Constantin?" asked Scorpio, ignoring the question.

"We were just about to ask you the same thing. We would have been here sooner but we had to go on a wild zard chase for your queen." remarked kors.

"Lady Safiria! What-" Scorpio was cut off by Muchiha.

"We don't know. Nobody knows. Our king vanished at presumably the same time as your queen. It happened right after we secured the Cure." as he said those words, he made sure to drive home the point that the vampires had lost.

"So that's it then? All this work, all this chaos, and nobody's even around to do anything about it?" Scorpio was furious that Safiria was gone, and equally upset that that he never got to challenge the Wolf-King.

"Not entirely true." Wyrm spoke up, "Xander and Victor are still around, dealing with stragglers from either side and handing out spoils to the victors. Though I hear Victor pilfered a few goods to give you."

"So, the war's over, the leaders are missing, and the rewards are being handed out as we speak?" Scorpio started to grin as he said that. the WolfPack nodded in unison.

"Then what are we still doing in this filthy cave? Let's head to Deren, mogberry juice is on me." As the battle-scarred noble said that, he and his former enemies burst out laughing as they headed out.

"Hey, maybe you can give Muchiha some sparring tips" said Wyrm.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" asked the Shadow-user.

"Nope" replied Scorpio.

Epilogue

Lord Scorpio was in the training room underneath his small cabin in Darkovia. He wore his standard combat gear, including his specialized samurai armor with a skeletal chestplate and regal cape torn from his now useless necromancer's cloak. Supposedly such items retained some of their abilities even with the ley lines in ruins. He thought about that for a moment, but then redirected his thoughts to the moment at hand. The surrounding wilderness was becoming more hostile every day, Vampires nearly wiped out, his control over Undead nonexistent for all practical purposes. He swung at a ring of training dummies, each dressed in either golden armor or the simple chestplates of the lycan soldiers. The lycan ones were made thicker, but still it took little effort to hack of the wooden limbs. He much preferred when he could summon a great warrior from ages past to train. His new Blood Blade, much improved by a change of blacksmiths within the castle before it fell, was quite useful though. As he fought, he reflected on his current situation. He was living in hostile territory, without power or leader. He had designed his meager land ownings to be self-sufficient, but without support from the castle things could get a bit tougher. As he contemplated settling in closer to Battleon, he was thrown of balance as a swing of his missed. He looked at the dummies, only to find that they had all been worn down tho mere stumps, add that to the list of expenses. As Scorpio tossed his blade into the ground and left for his small post-war party in Deren, a small skeletal hand poked out of the ground.




vamplycan -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/9/2014 18:16:42)

Shinou and the War of Fangs



Chapter 1


Normally the trees creak with weakness as the breeze creeps through darkovia. Tonight, however, the wind has turned violent causing a low ominous groan to extend throughout the expanse of the forest. The higher pitch of werewolves’ hunting howls creates an eerie harmony. The vampires keep a pristine silence even in their dying breaths. The moon’s ghastly grin beams through the naked branches distorting the already grisly and disturbing scenes into visions of pure macabre. The deep shadows play a mocking emphasis of the brutality.

War is cold. It has no pulse to warm its limbs as they stretch out to strangle. It wraps all of nature with malevolent intentions and feeds off of spilt blood. It is in this way, a vampire. Yet, we are still losing. It has no love even for its own kind. It shows only an insatiable thirst, not even companionship can quench. Not even with all of us obeying in its whims.

I don’t bother to spit out the blood that is welling up in my mouth. I let it ooze from between my lips and drip madly off my chin. The scent, or the sound of it pattering on the packed earth would likely give me away in a normal situation, but with the sound of war, and the wind whipping erratically, I don’t need to worry. The pack of 30 werewolves formed a chaotic pile on top of their prey. They had ambushed some 20 vampires who are no longer undead. I would now return the favor along with the 12 guards I took from the walls guarding my estates. I took many more originally; a couple thousand more. This is all that’s left.

When the first lines collided it was like the ocean hitting a rock shore. The vampires immediately sliding back down in surprised retreat. I was filled with an eager over confidence before that incident. Among the first casualties of this war, were my certainty and humor. I look up at the moon again before my attack. Its grin grew out of the facial boundaries, and on either side hung a cloud like a corpse in a noose. This war is no longer about winning, it is about survival. I jump in for the attack.

My hands tighten on the handles of my flails. The chains coiled tightly at my feet as if they were vipers. I take a slow steady step forward, focusing the largest mongrel from the crazed pack. With an upward thrust of my entire arm, the chain to my right began to uncoil, leaping at the massive beast's throat. He isn't aware when the chain hits the back of his neck, and his quick turn about proves pointless. I whip my arm downward and the chain follows swirling in a maelstrom of impending death; rapidly constricting his esophagus. The wolf decids to charge at me, hoping to kill me before its inevitable demise. The weapon winds too quickly, and the constriction proves too much as it fells the beast even before the metallic horned serpent's head adorning the end of the chain can make contact with its skull. The body continues to slide toward me not having much resistance in the ground giving to its weight. I whip my right arm forcibly, and an angry ripple shoots down the length of the chain until it hits the mass constricting the beasts throat. The Wolf is tossed back into the pack, pushing away a couple of Lycans who recognized the disappearance of their leader

I had hoped taking out the Alpha would scatter the pack. This sometimes works, however rarely. This pack is unfortunately organized enough to know who was in charge if the big dog died. The horde continuing their lunatic stampeding and my left arm reflexively shot across from resting below my left thigh to raised high above my right shoulder. This chain unravels in a wide arc catching the furthest of the ravenous creatures to my left with the metallic horned end, and then I let go of the handle. It flies as true as I could have ever wished. The handle, it hits mid horde and cuts through the crowd in an opposite arc, winding around 10 or so frothing lycans. They are likely now held enough for my men to clean the mess. I turn slightly to my right and give a fast flick to my flail before tossing the handle into the mouth of an oncoming werewolf. I see him claw at his throat attempting to stop the choking.

The body of the previous Alpha launches into the air, spiraling and then stalling in the air as if he were performing an aerial dance, then plummets back to earth. A couple small wolves yelp in pain as they graciously break their former leader's fall.

The next few wolves are almost upon me, so I dive into a roll, while unsheathing a red katana. The moon's grin glances off of it in a quick shine as I sweep it upward. I feel strain in my shoulders and triceps as their strength along with the momentum of my swing guide me through the tough hide. Without hesitating I spin and sweep down and across feeling another tug of resistance, then hearing a dull thump. At the end of my spin I thrust forward feeling the weight of a lupine body sag. The mass is almost too much for locked arms. It threatens to snap my elbows. I flick it downward and feel the release. A red wind flows between the trees.

To my left the pack of wolves I captured lay in a lifeless heap. To my right more lay limp and quiet. Behind me I only hear distant sounds of war. Ahead of me there are the last of my dying soldiers, with the shadow distorted visage of an oversized wolf panting eagerly. "one more" I thought. "One more and some would have survived." I throw my katana, and it spins with a snake's hiss, before striking true. The last one falls.

I hear one of my guards struggling weakly as I gather my weapons. I walk over to him staring apathetically. He looks up and I almost see hope in his eyes. Then I grab him and pull him close. I stare into his eyes to make sure that is what I saw. No, it wasn't. I bare my fangs and sink them into his neck; drinking his blood. I will need all the strength I can find in order to continue. I am alone now, and must fight with new tactics. I must decapitate the leadership from these packs. I must turn their fury into disorganized confusion. If all else fails I must see that Safiria is safe.


Chapter 2.

My bare toes clench around the side of the branch beneath me. The clouds well up, bubbling over the moonlit sky, and then they pour themselves down as if the heavens were weeping for us. I haven’t seen a single vampire in days. Only the beasts cross my vision, and this cursed forest seems to grow longer and darker with every expanding minute.

I have killed many of their leaders. “Alphas” they call them. The largest brutes, who loom over their underlings with commanded respect. I watched as they tear each other apart to prove superiority. They watch as I tear up their superiors. My muscles are swollen from over use. It gives me an edge in intimidation, but they exhaust quickly now. I have separated the heads, from the body of the packs, but as is the lycan way, they regenerate. They move on finding the next pack and groveling before the wolf in charge. Enough of them now gather here. Thousands of canine are all drooling mindlessly before one top dog. I have been searching for him quietly in the tree tops, and now I see him.

The speed and ferocity of the beasts was too much for my armor and weapons. I have dropped them in favor of a loincloth, and a couple spears from fallen brothers. Blood and dirt cake my skin, hiding its fairness to the sharp canine eyes. They don’t see or smell me, but I see them. I see the top dog. I clench the spear tightly and can almost hear Safiria’s soft voice purring in my ears.

“Kill them.” She says. “Make me a new red lake here in Darkovia. I would adore a red lake.”

I smile contentedly. It is enough just to imagine her praise. I arc my right hand back, spear ready, and toss for the dog man standing a little taller than the rest in the middle of the army. It’s a few hundred feet away, but being supernaturally strong has its benefits. The spear skewers the wolf head and sticks harshly into the ground.

I spring forward, leaping into the crisp night air, and fall downward with the rain. I make it quite a few yards into the thick of the overburdened pack, and let loose and undulating screech that rings with a feral cruelness. They had wanted to fight like animals, to fight tooth and nail. They had acted as wild, unruly beats, but I would show them the true nature of the ancient, and the wild. The primal fear and the need to survive will be instilled within their instinctual brains.

I let loose another scream, slashing across with my spear, felling a wolf man. A twirl and a sweep take out a couple more. They can see the strain of my muscles as I lurch and dive. They can see my power as I leap, and tear through their ranks. They stink of fear.

They don’t even try to fight back. I can hear them claim in half howl speech that I’m an ancient, or a vengeful spirit. They keep a circle around me, not daring to turn tail. I flash my spear in a side to side swipe, testing the crowd. The mud beneath me splashes up and stings as it smears against open wounds. I stay in a crouching position letting loose an ear splitting screech from time to time, and finally they split, but not in the way I intended. I had been pushing them like cattle back to their home land. Killing off the leadership so they had to retreat back to the next dog, and I guess they got wise. They had a decoy set up. The real Alpha approaches.

There is a moment when every being must face death. They have to look at him and breathe death’s stale exhalations. Take him into their lungs deeply, and let him travel the lengths of their veins into the chambers of their heart. There it is either a stuttering beat of panic, or a calm slowing of time as one accepts the situation. The heart slows to a stir, knowing death is within its depths, and beats with a renewed vigor in defiance, in the need for survival, and in love of life.

His fur is black, and against the clouded night sky he is a silhouette slipping into shadow. It is the largest of the beasts I have ever seen. The pack parts instinctively, without looking behind or to the side, and he ascends from their ranks as if he were emerging from the murky depths of a still black lake. His form is all bulk bound in fur. His eyes are aglow with savagery and malevolence. His teeth are gnashing while a mad froth cascades from his curled snarl. He stands before me, and his drool extends the five feet down to my face.

I let him think I have that moment of facing death, and then I toss my spear into the mud. I have won against death every time. It needs me to even out the odds.

The Werewolf swipes his massive right claw down at me. Werewolves are more anatomically aligned with men than with wolves. I stepped into his reach and uppercut the pressure point in the middle of his triceps. His arm falls limp. I apply downward pressure on his forearm and bicep with my upper body, as I bring a knee to his elbow. It shatters. I turn from his right arm, but I don’t have time to see anything. I only feel pain blossom in my face, and hear the crack of my nose splintering.

I taste mud. Its thickness threatens to suck me downward into the pits of eternity before a palm presses against my face. The pain from my nose is excruciating. The claws dig into my ears as I’m lifted up and out of the ground. He dangles me from his palm, and I wiggle limply. With one hand he holds me high above his head, and I hear a roar before I go deaf. All sounds cease, but I feel warm liquid oozing from the sides of my head. With a quick jerk he brings me towards his jaws.

I kick out crushing his neck with my heel. The wolf reels back, and lets me loose. I don’t fall gracefully. I am tired, and nearly beat. I scramble towards a wolf I had felled before my current fight. I untied his spiked band that encircled his shoulder, and gripped it in my left hand. I half crawled to the hulking wolf, who was hacking something horrible. I reached over grabbing the fur lining the nape of his neck. He slammed an elbow into my abdomen. Bile and mud burst out in chunks from my mouth. I slip around in the mud for a moment before gaining my composure. The wolf is still having trouble breathing.
With my right hand I grip the back of his neck again plunging my thumb nail and the nail of my forefinger into the pressure point on either side. I managed to shove his face in the mud and rub it around, before he gets footing and begins to stand. I dig my fingers further. The beast can’t howl, but it tries. It opens its mouth and I take my chance.

With my left hand I flip one end of the spiked band around his face so that it wraps around his head inside of his jaws. I almost fail, but I catch the end I flipped with my left hand holding the closed circle. The spikes are pointing inward, into his mouth. I pull back with what strength I have, but I’m noticeable weaker now. His back arches and I take my chance. I remove my right hand from his neck and plunge it as far down his back as I can reach. His back arches more and I can just barely touch the ground. I take the band in two hands and face away from the beast. His core strength will be no match against all the strength of my body. I flip him over my head, snapping his jaw in the process.

The wolf makes a wave large enough for mud to cover my eyes. I shake it off, and straddle the back of the beast holding his reigns tight. It tries to get up, but I yank on the strap letting the sharp points punish him properly. His head is pulled from the depths of the mud, and I lean down sucking blood from his neck. I take as much as I can in a few moments, and I feel my ears popping as hearing slightly returns. My voice sounds more guttural and strained than it ever has the whole of my vampiric life.

“I am the cold death!” I dunk his head into the mud and scrape it around before bring it back up. “Fear me!” I dunk it again and then scream out, “I am the grim demon!” I bury his face again letting him eat the earth, and then I bring him up again. “Fear me! FEAR ME!”

The savagery in the wolf’s eyes comes into control, and I see the respect grow. Part of the pack mentality is to have subservience, a willingness to be loyal to those who dominate you. He wants to listen to his Alpha. I am his Alpha. This wolf knows it. I let him get up and hunch on three legs while his fourth regenerates. I sit atop the wolf mounted and stretch my arms to catch the tears of heaven. Thousands of wolves bow around me. I have an army again.

Chapter 3

The war takes me like a fever dream. Shapes are not solidified. They expand and contract in plasma like movements. The contrast of coloration is exaggerated giving the forest a surreal feel. It’s almost as if the enemy has inhabited the spirit of the forest, pitting it against me. It even makes my pack agitated. They fidget with unease and suspicion. I suspect some are starting to doubt my leadership qualities. Brawler beneath me is even subtly slipping into defiance. I call him brawler for the way he prefers to fight with a balled fist rather than his claws. Interesting that.

There is Minky too. I call it Minky, because I dislike it. I know Minky wonders why we have wandered for days without a kill, or even a sign of the war. I should knock the eyes from the sockets. That will have Minky sucking its thumb for sure. Blind Minky with a safety binky, that would teach this whole crowd. I leap off of Brawler and the ground swells beneath me. It’s almost as if it’s coming up to attack. I throw a fist at it and the ground parts from below allowing for a safe landing. The trees scuttle a little backward threatened by my hostility. If only the army would fear me that way. They must feel what the forests feels. If I can, so can they. The forest around me nods in agreement, the bright bark of the trees shaking their canopy of shadows up and down. Or, were those shadows? I squint and think maybe clouds. There is no canopy in Darkovia. Trees are dead.

Minky dares to meet my eyes. I bring my face a full two inches from his hideous snout and screech at him. My voice bursts through my throat harshly, bringing up some blood in a small spurt. Minky flinches back, but at this point I’m too infuriated to back down. I thrust my spear between his startled eyes. He falls limply and I watch with a joyous heart as my men retreat back with the trees. The grass tries to, but fails settling for just a slight waver in directions away from me. I pluck some of the helpless green sprouts from beneath me and crush them in my fist. A wrinkle of slight disappointment moves across my forehead. I look up and stare at the crowd.

“Ahead!” I scream at them, and then turn and hop back atop Brawler. That was a good show, but I would need to find the frontlines if I were to keep them under my power. Certainly, the smell of the air made the war seem close. It could very nearly be nestled in my pocket for the winter. I don’t have pockets, though. I look to the sky for direction, but can only see the shapeless ball of mucus squirming about. It spreads slowly in all directions drooling off and letting bubbles of itself form and slug across the sky as if it were being smeared and the sky were a sheet of glass. The small balls of mucus collect themselves and sit shining as if reflecting some sort of unseen source of life. I squint and think, maybe those are stars? Wait…. Were there not clouds out before? I shake it off. We need blood. Shinou included, and I could smell blood very close.

It was indeed close, just around the bend, over the bridge and to father time’s house we go. We are on top of a hill that keeps moving its zenith, so I have to continuously shuffle the men over a little. Left, no not quite, right. Yes, that’s it. Below us a there seemed to be a battle, but it wasn’t between vampires and werewolves. They were different creatures all made of cloth, steel and bone. Some were colossal fur balls. What had happened to the war? I suppose it could be over with already, but who were these new groups? Blood. They were blood.
I didn’t bother with commands; I just pulled tightly on the band in Brawler’s mouth, and screeched for all I was worth. The creature lurched ahead, and I was nearly thrown off, but I let myself become liquid. I molded to the beast’s movements. I was not going to get off until I wanted to, which would be very, very soon.

The collision was strange as if the side of the fighting factions were a thin line of rubber. They stretched and bent to our force, not giving at first. Even rubber though, snapped when enough stress was put on it. Those snaps tended to have the most violent consequences. This one did. Wolves tore at the creatures. Brawler stood on his hind haunches as I stepped off of his back. He curled his fists into mauls, and started hammering at fur people, and cloth warriors. I flashed about my spear valiantly making a show, and feeling my body temperature rise. The exhaust of the world had been rising for some time, and in this battle the world seemed to emit fires of wrath. Great splinters of pure heat rose up from my feet and spread ashes of pain throughout my body. I would have to make the lake here. The world was pulsing hotly from the hatred of Safiria. She was the center of the world, and she wanted a lake of blood. I would make it here to cool her down.
Cloth hands rippled and shot out straitening to a stiff and sharp point that swept out in front of me and moved side to side. I bent backward, nearly in half, and put my hands over my head to touch the ground. The cloth passed over and I pulled my feet up and over so that I flipped over in time to duck out of the way of its return. More cloth struck out, and I lashed back, slicing the bundles before me. They crumpled to the ground, but of course more came to replace them.

A fur ball came barreling from my right and puffs into the ground beside me, but I jump up throwing myself into the air and spinning in a sideways spiral. My spear beneath me scrapes the ground lightly as I kick my feet up and over my head so that I twist in midair. I flip over and bring the momentum of my spin with me in an overhead slash. It tears open a bone creature, and reveals a hidden pool of blood underneath his external skeleton. I lick my lips, but, quickly, I lift my right leg up to avoid a steel arm. I pivot on my left leg and thrust my spear forward and down piercing the creature. This surprises me a bit, which is unfortunate as something smashes into my side.

I tumble uselessly to the ground, and feel the familiar sting of a magic wound. They have mages. I put my weight on one arm and extend it in a burst so that I fly up and back, landing in a crouch. I see nothing but amorphous blobs of cloth, steel, and fur. I swing my spear and it occurs to me that these creatures came here to die. I am killing them far too easily. It’s almost as if they have a magic force that pulls my spear to their weak points. They fall quickly, and I dodge effortlessly. The heat of the world and the battle threatens to explode from my stomach, and my head. A sweat slickens my body, and allows me to escape the grasp of an oncoming fur man. I turn and leap up shoving my legs out. They extend and collide with the mass of fur sending back into the line of enemies behind. A few of them fall to the earth and I take the advantage. A few more dead, and the ground becomes covered in a small layer of blood.

Hours of killing breaks down my body. I move slower, and the creatures have become less familiar. They resemble nothing I have ever seen. They move without pattern, and are not shapes of this world, but still their magic guides my spear to their death. They want to die, and I want to kill them. I cannot see any of my army, only an infinite amount of enemies. It is as if I have died and gone to a warrior’s eternal battle in the heavens. Only I would never make it to a warrior’s heaven, and I could still hear Safiria’s warm voice in my head. She is happy. The ground is red, and splashes with my steps. There is a marsh now; a blood marsh.

The whole of reality is bleeding red now, but I don’t feel like I am swimming in its fluids. I feel like giving up. I am slashing at reality’s wounds, and I feel nothing. Not even resistance of a body, but I know it is dying. I know it is almost over; only a few more. I turn to my right on shaky legs and throw my spear out. It sticks in thick red air. I try to pull it back, but it refuses to budge. I pull on it harder, but there is nothing. I let go of the spear and it stays horizontal. My hands reach out to try and feel what is holding the spear, but there is nothing. The heat leaves my body, and I can feel my limbs grow stiff as they are forcibly pinned to my sides. I fall to the ground. I can’t breathe. The ground sloshes beautifully in my ear. I taste the blood when I try to inhale. I have made the lake. I close my eyes, and let it wash me away.

Chapter 4



Blood isn’t really the essence of life. It is simply one of the many necessary components to keep on living. I imagine for humans the essence of life is closer to water. Not only do they need it to survive, but it makes up most of their physical form. Vampires, I suppose are slightly different. We drink blood like humans drink water, and it does a hot flame of a lot more for us than water does for humans. It keeps us forever youthful, and even regenerates our bodies at a rapid pace. Indeed, I am unabashedly grateful for what the blood of others has done for my life, but that doesn’t mean I like my dry mouth to come with crusted blood flakes that scrape off my desert of a tongue. I can also feel it cracking off my skin as I move my facial muscles to make certain I’m alive. Yes, I’m oh so grateful for so many things including the fact that I don’t need to breathe. No use for lungs if you don’t have a beating heart. This is why I can remain alive while my head is stuffed into a blood soaked bag and tied roughly around my neck. My teeth…. Where in the name of ash have my teeth gone? Only the top and bottom vampiric fangs remain.
It doesn’t trouble me that I don’t remember what happened. No, I’m fairly use to the idea of being a forgetful creature. What really troubles my pounding head is that whatever is binding my legs and arms is something I can’t break out of using the strength of my body. That is something new, and I’m not rather fond of new and unexplained things. I mean certainly, not things that I can’t break with pure brute strength. I try to test the bonds again by straining every available muscle in an outward push. I wiggle a little bit, but other than that only manage to let out a grunt of exertion.

A few minutes pass before I feel the rope at my neck loosen. The knapsack over my head begins to slide off and I get my first glimpses of my surroundings. Unfortunately, I am lying on my stomach and only catch a view of the rock floor beneath me. It does look like a cavern floor though. It’s even a little wet. I let my tongue flick out and attempt to absorb some moisture from the damp cave floor. I feel a comfortable amount of cloth brush up against my face, before something a little less pleasant smashes into my mouth.

The blood helps with the dryness, so I welcome it. Then I try to crane my neck up to give a menacing look at what just thought it was a good idea to put a foot in my face. Immediately, I saw the courtly Victorian ruffles that belonged to high vampire fashion. I took a deep breath before continuing up to see an overlapping red cloth that marked the beginning of the dress. The red tapers off into sharp angles outlined by orange giving the dress a flame pattern at the bottom. I gulp, and decide it couldn’t really be who I think it is. After the orange outline the dress turns into a deep pool of blood red, and continues up to mid chest leaving a wide open neck line. Matching dark red sleeves run up slender arms, but cut off before the shoulder. Pale and pristine vampiric skin glows against the dark spill of hair that falls with a gentle curl. Protruding out from behind either shoulder are delicate purple bat wings. They definitely couldn’t lift the woman, but they were attractive. The slenderness of the neck was emphasized by a tightened sleeve of a matching hue to the dress and arm sleeves. This is a vampire’s favorite feature, so naturally I let my gaze linger here for a second.

I knew there was only one vampire that would draw attention to her neck with such elegance, but at the same time hide it. It was a brilliant tactic for the queen of vampires. She was supposed to be our ruler and the possible first of all vampires. The sleeve she wore as fashion also concealed the reality of whether or not she had ever been turned. Sure, you could turn someone by biting them in other areas, but traditionally it was the neck. You might think that there would be no reason to want to wear such a thing unless you had bite marks to hide, but Safiria loved those kinds of mind games. Another edge over your opponent is to keep them guessing. Who are you really and what are you really capable of are the kinds of questions she strives to instill into people. It is easier to take them down while they consider, though it isn’t as if she needed to. After living as long as Safiria, you tend to try to make challenges for yourself, less the world grow dull.
Her face is shrouded in still beauty as she speaks. “It is hard to believe you are of Shinou blood. That lineage has proven to be so much more formidable in the past.”
I smile in return and speak through my dry throat in a croak. “I almost thought I would be the one saving you.”

She seemed to consider this response for a moment. “You still might. Though, if things hadn’t ended up this way I would have you executed for treason. Really, it is just to prove a point. I can’t have talk of ancient spirit amongst my people who disagrees with my orders. Still, this new found title makes you most likely to be able to do something about upcoming events.”
“I’m sorry to be a bother my queen, but really, you are just spitting ashes and not much sense.”

She let loose a small sigh and walked a few paces back seating herself. “We have lost the war, and in part, because of you.”

“What?” It isn’t much of a reply, but I really don’t have a clue what is going on. I know Safiria had never given me the time of day before, but that was to be expected. I had heard tell that is when she got her beauty sleep. It shows. Still, to blame the loss on me seems a bit harsh.

“It started with you bringing that army of humans. I believe they weren’t even aware they were fighting alongside vampires. They attacked both sides.”

I shrug, or try to. It comes out more like a twitch. Soldiers are on a need to know basis. I hadn’t thought that important information. She looks at me dully then continues.

“Your forces were over ran by both armies, and then pushed out into Darkovia. You stayed there for some time, but returned with a force of diretooths. Somewhere along the line you also lost your clothes.” As she said that last line disgust trickled across her face. “You were evidently mad, and your ‘army’ attacked both sides again. We were losing, so this allowed us to pull out, but not without losing many troops. Your army followed us, which divided us from the wolves. When we captured you, your troops became even more disorganized, which I hadn’t thought was possible, and mostly scattered aimlessly. This is what allowed some large portion of vampires to escape.” She looked at me to see if I would respond, but of course, I did not.

“The men believe you are an ancient vampire spirit of Darkovia come to exact justice for breaking the truce. Despite my best efforts, I cannot clean them of this horribly misplaced belief. They think it is a good sign that the vampire spirit led the wolves. They believe we will rise again. I don’t have time to object.”

This seemed strange to me, but I wasn’t in a position to negotiate. Still I had some questions. “Some of the wolves with me had armor. I remember that much. They couldn’t have all been wild Diretooths.”

“Diretooths are wolves that give in their savage nature. They become unruly and highly dangerous because they revert back to the ways of their ancestors. This is an urge that all werewolves feel. Many are overtaken, and the high tension of war causes a lot to stray from the pack. You no doubt, picked up a large amount of the wolves that gave into the feeling of war. What confuses me, is how you came across that primal urge. Vampires do not struggle with this. We have no feelings save for self gain, lust, and hunger.”

I try to shrug again, but got a similar result as the last attempt. Safiria huffs, and turns away.

“No matter. I have to leave in order to keep a chaos from crushing what remains of the Vampires. We had to abandon the keep. This is one of the many caves we are currently using. The others might claim that you have to do with my disappearance. Still, they might consider you the Ancient that will restore them back to power. The one who will lead them back to me, and perhaps you will. We shall see.”

“I thought you said I was the one who went mad? This whole bloody body of vampires seems to be insane.”

“Oh no, they were not leaping about Darkovia in a loincloth like a lunatic poet. That was you.” With that she turns about and drifts out of view.


Epilogue
Soon some guards came and untied me. I got a good look at what had me as useless as a new born babe. Chains of silver and the longest garland of garlic I had ever seen. I shivered. What horrible things. The guards didn’t seem to know who or what I was, so I flashed my fangs as a badge of “You can trust me” and they immediately fetched me the Map I had asked for. I would need to make as much distance. I would have to give myself some distance from the vampires, until I found out which stance the majority held as to my standing with the vampires. I certainly can’t lead them anywhere. Vampires wouldn’t do as gaurds to my house. In Deren the bandits that come to attack your house are called tax collectors, and they come during the day. Vampires can’t fight them off very well. There were definitely things to consider, but for now distance will do.






Disc Lorde -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/10/2014 7:26:02)

The Maeshalanadae Chronicles: Vamping It Up

War of the Fangs Day 1
Vampire Castle



Jenny Sys and Nyanja leaned against the wall of the vampire castle. Jenny felt her new fangs with her tongue. Both Jenny and Nyanja had just come back from missions to increase her powers and further the vampires' hold.

Nyanja was smiling. If he was a cat, like he wanted to be, Jenny imagined he would have been purring. "Enjoying being a vampire?" Jenny asked him.

Nyanja grinned wider, showing his fangs. "Yes. I fed off a human earlier, and it was wonderful. Then I used some energy fighting weres and grew more powerful. And now I'm resting with my fellow vamps. Yes, I could get used to this."

"Huh, good for you. I had to feed off of a were." Jenny said, picking fur out of her teeth.

Just then Safiria, the vampire queen herself, opened the door. All eyes turned to her. She ascended the staircase and stood behind the railing, addressing her subjects.

"Minions! We are at war with the Werewolves!" There were looks of confusion. "And by that I mean full-scale war. The source of The Cure has been found, and we war to decide which of us will control it and use it to enhance our powers. Minions, to battle!"

Jenny eagerly joined the throng marching off to war. As she marched, she decided it would be prudent to send a letter to some friends requesting their aid.

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War of the Fangs Day 1
Disc Lorde's Residence



A pop informed Disc Lorde of the arrival of mail. He went to his mail table and picked up the letter sitting there. He looked it over to see who it was from, then carried it into the living room, where Lance was resting after a hard day's training.

Disc Lorde sat down in an armchair. "Letter from Jenny Sys" he said in response to Lance's unspoken question.

"Hmm. Wonder what it could be about."

Disc Lorde opened the letter, and read it out loud.

"Disc Lorde,

I am writing to inform you of new events in Darkovia. The source of The Cure has been found, and both the Vampires and the Werewolves wish to use it to enhance their powers. I am also writing to request your aid, and Lance's, as I have become a vampire. The battle lines are being drawn as I write this. Please reply promptly.

Jenny Sys"

"Hmm," said Lance, who was now sitting up. "Well, are you going to lend a hand?"

"I don't know." said Disc Lorde. "I want to help Jenny, and I rather favor the vampires, but the last time I got involved with a conflict it didn't turn out so well."

"Hmm, you are referring to the Paladin/Necromancer war, yes?" Lance stroked his chin. "I wasn't there, but from what I've heard, wasn't that different? As I understand, the leaders of both sides were so heckbent on annihilating the other side outright that they would not pay attention to the negative effects that the war was having, culminating in the overloading of a key branch of ley lines. Safiria and Constantin strike me as more reasonable than that. Also, the motives for this war seem...less nasty. In that war the Paladins wanted to eliminate Necromancy outright, while many on the Necromancers side intended the same for Paladin magic. This is simply a power grab, and I think the victor will take their victory gracefully. At least, I think Safiria will."

Disc Lorde smiled. "You are wise as always, friend. Shall we depart?"

"Actually, I think I'll stay here, continue my training, and look after the estate, though I may be able to assist a little."

"Both of those things are important. That sounds like a good idea. I'm off then. I will be back home when the war is over, which judging from experience should be in about a week or two."

Disc Lorde sent his armies to assist the vampires, then went to his teleportation circle and transported himself to Darkovia.

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War of the Fangs Day 1
Battlegrounds



Nyanja slashed another werewolf. He grinned grimly as more headed towards him. They just seemed to keep on coming.

"The wolves challenge lions, mistaking them for house-cats. Amusing."

Nyanja glanced sideways at his ally that had uttered the remark, and grinned. "I like you."

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War of the Fangs Day 2
Battlegrounds



It was a day after the start of hostilities, and Disc Lorde had just finished lobbing his hundredth or so magical bomb-o-lantern when he saw another familiar face fighting for the vamps.

"Hey there Cerrana." He grinned. "Nice to see you fighting for the vamps as well."

"Yes. I thought it this war sounded fun, and weres always weirded me out. What brings you here?"

"Friend asked for my help, and I alwasy preferred vamps to weres."

Cerrana smiled and nodded, then charged forward to cleave a Diretooth.

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War of the Fangs Day 3
Battlegrounds



Things were looking grim for the vamp supporters. The werewolves had taken a decisive lead. Disc Lorde, Cerrana, Jenny, and Nyanja were all back-to-back.

"We've fallen behind." said Nyanja.

"Grr. We're killing them as fast as we can, but for every two weres we kill, they kill three vamps!" said Jenny.

Disc Lorde and Cerrana chuckled.

"What's so funny?" asked Nyanja.

"Reminds me of NvP." said Cerrana.

"Back when the Necromancers fought the Paladins, the necros had a considerable lead at one point." Disc Lorde explained. "They got complacent, and the Paladins, as you know, came out on top. Such an upset could very well happen again, and this time, it would work in our favor."

"Well," said Jenny, "There's hope then."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

War of the Fangs Day 4
Battlegrounds



The war was still raging. Jenny battled her way through the ranks to Disc Lorde, to find him grinning.

"What's going through your head, that's put you in such a fine mood Disc Lorde?"

Disc Lorde turned to face her. "We're catching up!"

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War of the Fangs Day 6, Morning
Battlegrounds

It was always dark in Darkovia, but the position of the moon and stars told Disc Lorde that it was morning. Disc Lorde was returning to the vampires' camp to rest. When he arrived he disovered Safiria absent and a sharply dressed male werewolf giving orders. Puzzled, he looked around to see if he could find any of his friends to help shed light on this new development. After only a few seconds' scanning he spotted Nyanja refilling his potions from a bag.

Nyanja looked up as he walked over, and grinned. "Hey there Disc Lorde. How is the battle going?"

"Well, both for me and the vampires at large. I have had no problems and the vampires are still catching up. But what's going on here?"

"Oh, you mean with Safiria's absence and the new commander?" Disc Lorde nodded. "The new commander is Victor. Safiria put him in charge while she went to defend Vampire Castle."

Disc Lorde's eyebrows raised in alarm. "The weres are attacking Vampire Castle?"

"Yes. Safiria ordered an attack of Werewolf Lair to divert their forces so that we could sieze control of this site. Constantin was too smart however, and counterattacked."

Disc Lorde frowned. "Clever tactics, on both their parts. Though attacking the weres' home seems a little uncalled for. This was just going to be a battle for the mutagenic powers of the source of the cure. It wasn't as though anyone's livelihood was threatened, so I don't know why Safiria would threaten the weres' livelihood like that."

Nyanja's expression turned somber. "You haven't been around darkovia much, have you? I think Safiria thinks that her livelihood is threatened. The werewolves and vampires have been at war for territory for years. The winner of this battle will have a possibly insurmountable advantage in those conflicts, and neither side trusts the other side to share. Rightly so, I think."

Disc Lorde's frown deepened. He was beginning to question his decision to get involved in this conflict. But he had already come this far.

"Well," Disc Lorde said, straightening up. "If this is such serious business, what are we standing around for. You ready?"

Nyanja smiled. "Ready."

They charged back into the fray.




rosaxx50 -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/12/2014 2:19:35)

Taking Sides




The Traitor (or: The Art of What Not to Do When Inviting An Ally to War)


Beneath the perpetually dark skies of the Middle Isles, the land seemed to stretch forever. Desert went on as far as the eye could see, from horizon to horizon, flat and gray and deceptive in its hollow silence, for shadows did not speak. The latest threat had been drawn back to his universe of origin, but you were never safe in the Middle Isles. You were never alone.

"So this is where you've been hiding."

A few seconds of silence, broken only by the gentle rasp of wind as it threw up dust from the dry ground.

She would not turn around. She would not.

"Hiding," Kyallu answered, and turned around, "is a relative term."

A beat.

"Wait. Did that make any sense?"

The vampire cocked her head to one side, eyes gleaming against the blue of her skin. "Not the slightest."

"Ah, well. I tried." Kyallu grinned.

The vampire blinked very slowly. Kyallu's grin did not falter.

"I do not know what our queen sees in you," Rosa said at last, with unmistakable disdain.

The last time Kyallu and Safiria came face to face, Kyallu had taken a wrong turn while sneaking about the queen's castle. If Safiria remembered her at all, it was probably as an insect that had bitten back, one she needed to crush the next time they met.

"My bumbling yet sincere charm, of course," Kyallu said. "I do have so much of it."

Rosa shook her head, and muttered, "It is not for me to question." She stretched out her hand, which had been empty just a moment before.

The letter Rosa held was plain and crisp, for all that Rosa must have travelled for days to reach the Middle Isles. Kyallu stared for a few seconds, and did not take the letter.

"How did you find me?" she asked, all traces of humour vanished.

"Please," Rosa said. "Did you think you could go strolling through Darkovia unseen?"

Of course. The hunt for Ultimon's scattered pieces. But it had been years since Kyallu had adventured around Lore, and she'd thought that the sheer numbers of fighters spreading through the forest might have let her pass unnoticed--or at least, that her friendship with the vampires might delay any news of her presence. She had even been careful to skirt vampire territory just in case Safiria was bored enough to make good on her threats.

"I guess trying to turn invisible from sheer power of will didn't work," Kyallu said out loud.

She reached for the letter.

And the moment their hands brushed, Rosa sprang back, eyes huge with shock. Her fangs peeped out between her lips, the faintest growl rumbling low in her throat.

"Your hand is warm," she said.

"...Yes?"

"You're alive."

"Uh..." It took you five minutes to figure out that the person you were talking to was alive? Then Rosa's meaning sank in. Of course.

"You are human," said Rosa. "How long ago did you betray our... my queen?"

"I didn't--"

"The wolves said you were serving that mutt who thinks himself king, and I... we did not believe it--"

"It wasn't--"

"--It is people like you we will stop forever."

That got Kyallu's attention. "What?"

Rosa sneered, darting forward to snatch at the letter, but she was still young and certainly less experienced a fighter. Light flared from a single point, pitting out the ground with sudden long shadows for the barest moment, and Rosa tumbled back in its wake. Kyallu lowered her Lightning Rod, letting the spell fade, but more than ready to cast again if she needed to.

"Safiria already knew," Kyallu said. "I was part of the Werewolf King's pack, for a while. Certainly not as long as I was one of you."

Safiria had known, and smiled at it. I suppose it does not matter. I am patient, and I can wait. You will come back to us in the end. Your kind always do.

She lowered her eyes to read.

When she looked up again, Rosa stood a good ten meters away, watching her warily. "Well?"

Kyallu crumpled the letter in her hand and set it alight, dropping it when the cackling flames threatened to lick her fingers. It glowed a dull, fading red that was, nevertheless, vivid against the featureless gray of the ground.

Safiria had not sent her orders to return. She had not even sent a request.

There had been news of chaos. And an offer. Kyallu knew which side she was on.

"I was getting bored of the silence anyway."

But the vampire was frowning. "You are human again. Times have changed, Kyallu. Whatever my queen says, you may not be as welcome as you think."

And it was the sheer lack of malice as she said this that sent a chill down Kyallu's spine.





The Dracopyre (or: The Art of Getting Your Priorities Straight)


Darkovia was no longer dark.

"Woah," said Kyallu, at her side. "Either my eyes are playing tricks on me, or we should call the forest Sort-Of-Evening-Like-Via now."

Rosa blinked, and looked again.

Her eyes had deceived her. The sky above Darkovia was still a dark abyss, strewn with wisps of clouds as thin as an ancient's skin. It was the forest that illuminated everything for miles, waves of flame roaring out of the canopy in a hundred different places and fingers of pure light escaping the tree cover in a hundred others, flaring and fading in mere seconds. It was too far for the clang of swords to travel, but if the mages were fighting, warriors, too, clashed beneath Darkovia's ancient trees. The battle had commenced without her.

"You should have teleported us," Rosa said.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you sneaked to the Middle Isles without telling Lord Barrius," said Kyallu. "And he's the one in charge of who can teleport in and out."

"I do not like him. And you could have insisted on it anyway," muttered Rosa.

"I value my life, thanks," Kyallu said cheerfully.

Rosa glanced at her companion. In a forest painted of shadows and darkness, Kyallu had donned an eye-smarting shade of red guaranteed to draw the attention of foe and ally alike from several hundred meters away. It was not unlike painting a target on her back with flashing lights.

"I doubt that," she said, closing her eyes as voices teased her at the edge of her hearing. The fighting, she realised, was closer than she had thought at first glance. If she strained, she thought she could hear snatches of conversations.

--that darned Chronomancer went... what is a werepyre doing --

--Xander will never accept--

--Lord Caius and Storm Silverwing... fell of a cliff of all things... will never see --

--insane! They'll attack anyone either side who gets too close... think they just like stabbing things --

--for the last time, YES... dracopyre... your side --

--how about rock, paper, scissors instead... don't want to fight --

--like a tornado! Vampires and werewolves both... Armstrong, they call him --

--the Wolf Pack will never... was NecroLegion l --

--Lord Scorpio... demoted... no, promoted... heard he became a werewolf... no, just used wolves --

--ice cream for dinner? Neutral ground--


Rosa blinked.

"We should continue," she said, at last, abandoning a brief attempt to recognize the final set of voices. "There will be--"

It took a moment for her to realise Kyallu had stopped walking; a second longer to notice that a shadow had fallen across her face. Something was hurtling toward them, silhouette distinctive against the clouds.

"Nightbane!" Kyallu half-yelped, half-whispered.

Silly human, with such weak sight in the dim forest--Nightbane's shape did not remotely resemble this.

Despite its dangerous speed, the dracopyre landed gracefully, soundlessly. It glowed faintly as it straightened, form melting into the shape of a young woman with a sword strapped to her back, shoulder and shin guards gleaming.

"It's been a while since someone thought I was my father," the newcomer said. "At least you didn't attack me this time."

Kyallu looked thunderstruck. "Cenara?"

The newcomer raised a hand in greeting. "Hi, Kyallu. It's been a while. Not since before the Devourer left us, actually."

Kyallu simply stared.

"Gracefang. Are you here to fight on my queen's side?" Rosa asked, in the silence.

"Are you going to attack me if I say no?" Cenara countered. "And before you draw your sword, I'm not fighting for the werewolves either."

"Then why are you here?" said Rosa, the spell on her tongue left uncompleted.

The corners of Cenara's mouth turned up. She gestured at Kyallu. "You're not exactly inconspicuous, if you know what I mean. I had to see who exactly was being this foolhardy."

"Well, I try." Kyallu's voice was faint.

"I fought for your side--" Rosa began.

"So did the werewolves," said Cenara, "because I didn't want to take over your people. Donovan did."

The memory of Safiria's greatest worry cut Rosa's indignation short. "Nightreign? Is he--"

Cenara nodded once, short and sharp . "I don't know. But it would be just like him to strike when you and the werewolves have tired each other out. I have to stay alert until then, which means staying out of it." She smiled again, a touch grimmer than just seconds ago. "And Grandfather wants you to be too busy rebuilding to hunt his children. He's not going to help one side above the other."

Wolfwing and Cenara's forces would not impede victory for her kind? Rosa was not displeased.

"I'm not surprised you're fighting, Rosa," continued Cenara, her gaze now on their tongue-tied companion, "but you're human. What's Safiria offering you?"

Kyallu stared even still. Rosa could not remember ever witnessing such stunned silence from her, and wondered at it.

"I owe the fluffballs a debt," said Kyallu, at last. Her face seemed to ripple; for a single moment of time, as brief as a flash of lightning, her skin was swirling shadow, her narrowed eyes pools of red light. It was gone so quickly, Rosa might have imagined it, but it made her feel better all the same. "I'd like to repay it."

Very slowly, Cenara smiled. "Then don't let me keep you." She snapped back into the form of a dracopyre, wings unfurled. "I need to go and foil Donovan's plans now. Whatever they are."

With barely a whisper of air, Gracefang lept into the sky, swooping away high above Darkovia's skeletal trees. In moments, she was a tiny speck in the distance. Kyallu stared after her, expression unreadable.

"I really have been gone a long time," she said softly. "Now, to the werewolves' caves?" Kyallu asked, when even that tiny speck had vanished entirely.

Reluctantly, Rosa shook her head. "No. My queen must learn what Gracefang told me. You should join the battle."

"Oh, I will."

And will you fight at the werewolves caves like my queen wishes? With difficulty, Rosa conquered the urge to ask it out loud. It was not her place to question her queen's orders, however uneasy leaving Kyallu alone made her feel. Depending on hatred to drive heroes who forgave with such shocking ease was not something Rosa could do, either.

But her queen needed this news. With another look behind her, Rosa ran for the tree tops.





tommy2468 -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/13/2014 8:13:30)

Chapter One: The Discovery of the Cure




<In a forest of darkness a spectral figure formed. The measly silver slivers of light that managed to fall between the crooked branches of long dead trees were reflected and enhanced by the moving form>


<In the darkness of the forest, the glow of the figure was almost blinding. A miniature sun defiant among the vast emptiness of space>


<From the hand of the figure a small, but incredibly bright ball of Light formed. The figure spun in a circle before thrusting the ball of Light into the air, where it hung casting a silvery sheen over all that the Light reached. The branches of the trees became fingers of bone frozen in a clasping motion>



A man’s voice emanated from the figure, “Kurai Yume… If you expect me to wait for you in this dim and depressing land then you assumed wrong.”


<The words were barely audible. A breath lost in the claustrophobic Darkness all around>


<The figure waited for several more seconds before sighing and turning on his heels. The ball of Light grew dimmer and went out and the forest returned to being forgotten and lonely>


<But the silence was quickly broken by a rasping whisper>



“Leaving so soon? Does this forest of death and pain not speak out to you? I would have thought you would have felt so at home here. Perhaps I was wrong… But then again I am never wrong.”


<The bright figure turned around with another sigh. Once again he spun and threw a ball of Light into the sky and the trees greeted him with their branches clutching like a child reaches for its mother>


<The light was softer than before and exposed more of the area. The bright figure was revealed to be a tall, but very slim man. He wore robes of glimmering white silk and held a staff of white oak>



The white figure replied with a soft retort, “So you have decided to show up then? You always were one for theatrics. Though I wonder why you went through the effort when you are the one that invited me here”


<The white ball was extinguished as another figure moved in front of the glowing man. The second man appeared in front of the first as nothing more than a dark outline>


The dark figure’s voice rasped through the air, “So Hikari Yume has accepted my request and graced me with his presence. I am not worthy.”


<The dark figure bowed in Hikari Yume’s direction in a mocking fashion. The figure moved closer to the Hikari Yume and into the circle of light emanating from the ball of Light. The man was almost an exact replica of Hikari Yume, but for some minor differences. Both men exhibited tall, slim forms, their faces portrayed the same expression of sadness and understanding. However, the similarities end there. Hair as black as night rested like feathers on the dark figures head and his attire was a mix between black and dark grey satins>


Hikari Yume’s expression did not change as he replied, “Of course you are not, however family is of some importance to me and our parents would not have appreciated any arguing between the two of us. Now Kurai Yume, tell me why I am here.”

Kurai Yume sneered knowingly, “Always the peace keeper, aren’t we. I’m surprised you manage to fail so often with such a positive attitude. Perhaps you have forgotten what the prophesies have said about us?”

With another sigh, Hikari Yume whispered, “I have not forgotten. Two men, borne of the same mother, one of light and one of dark, one of sanity and one of insanity, one of fear and one of joy, one of fortune and one of misfortune, one of love and one of hate, one to start and one to end.”


<The half brothers looked at each other in silence, judging the reactions of the each. Yet not a move was made on either side>


Kurai Yume sighed in a manner eerily similar to Hikari Yume, “The woes of which that old woman spoke has yet to come true and instead of joining forces you have decided to remain on your own. What makes you so sure that you are the child of fortune from the story?”

Menace creeped into Hikari Yume’s voice as he spoke, “Kurai Yume. I have not come here for a family meeting and to discuss our futures. Tell me what it is that you want and I shall be on my way.”


<Kurai Yume’s eyes betrayed a spark of anger, but it was quickly extinguished. The desire to understand his brother appeared to weigh heavily on the dark man’s mind>


Glancing at his fingers and then at the black forest around, Kurai Yume responded solemnly, “War is on its way brother. And not another foolish war, like the spat that you got into on our home island. This is a true war of the ancients.”


<The annoyance on Hikari Yume’s face was evident. The white robed man slowly stepped towards Kurai Yume>


Through gritted teeth he spat, “You dragged me halfway around the world to tell me of the disturbances between the Vampires and Werewolves? I could not care less for the battles between those idiots. After what they have done to this world with their territorial battles and disputes, why should I care? Their war will rage eternally, for neither will claim defeat.”

“They have found the Cure…”


<Surprise flitted past Hikari Yume’s face>


Choosing his words carefully, he whispered, “The balance between the races has always depended on the Cure. Only a few know of its existence and even fewer know of its whereabouts. If one of the races were to use the Cure for their own benefits then the results would be disastrous…”


<Kurai Yume tipped his head into a nod. The half-brothers glanced up towards the moon that reigned in the land of darkness. Its smile gave it the appearance of an evil god eagerly anticipating an event of horrific brutality>


<Hikari Yume nodded back to his brother and started to walk away. With each step the ball of Light dimmed. In the low light, Kurai Yume grew ever fainter and he was eventually fully camouflaged. He too began his own path away from the area>


<With the disappearance of the men silence returned to the forest…>





Chapter Two: Heat of a Hybrid




<Fervently running through the undergrowth Wyrm’s subconscious spoke out to him. It spoke words of encouragement as he remained in his most free form. His heavy paws danced over the brittle twigs that littered the floor; like the tiny bones of a fallen bird>


<Wyrm’s subconscious whispered of his power and the destruction he could cause. But it was his conscience that kept him in check. Though he knew of his abilities, he would not use them for such evil>


<He had a task and he could not let something so important slide by>


<As a Werepyre, Wyrm was neither a Vampire, nor a Werewolf, but something caught in between the two races. He was not accepted among either of the races, which made for a lonely existence>



Catching himself in the moment of weakness, Wyrm coughed out a snarl through his fangs, “Feeling sorry for yourself? Don’t be silly! Let the big players make their moves and try not to get too caught up in everything. That’s the way to survive in this world.”


<Wyrm was nearing his destination. The Werewolf Lair was close by and he would need to assume his human form, so as not to upset the sentries too much>


<His bones cracked and shrank, his senses diminished and his feeling of strength reduced. It was necessary to return to human form every now and again, otherwise the call of the curse would become too strong and he could become as wild as his fellow brethren>



A voice rumbled in front of him, “Who goes there?”


Emerging from the bushes, Wyrm called out, “Easy there. I have come to speak to Constantine, not to attack.”


<The werewolf that stood in front of Wyrm was visibly shaking from the sight of him. She was a young werewolf and had likely only seen a few dozen full moons since her turning. It was not a surprise that she would quake in her boots at the sight of him>


<Wearing the armour of the UltraGuardians, Wyrm was more than a little imposing. His UltraGuardian Scythe shimmered as it flickered through the Elements, and although it was strapped to his back, any would be able to see that Wyrm was not a normal simple warrior>



The she-wolf motioned for Wyrm to follow her, but he could see that she was unsure of what action she should make, “Like I said I am not here to cause any harm and I do not want anyone to get into trouble for this.”


<She appeared to become more relaxed, but Wyrm had a habit of saying the wrong thing when it came to comforting others. Being both a Paladin and a Werepyre, he was not used to having much company to comfort anyway. On one side, the Paladin Order rejected for his Undead side, and on the other side, his Werepyre side rejected him for his Paladin abilities>


Interrupting his thoughts, the she-wolf growled, “Through here…”


<Putting his problems to the side, Wyrm focused on the task-at-hand. Passing into the mouth of a tunnel, Wyrm looked down to see thousands of bones discarded on the floor. It reminded him of his journey from earlier and he yearned to rip out of his own skin to become the beast that dwelled within>


<Finding Constantine was not difficult. His bellowing and snarling could be heard reverberating throughout the entire cave complex>



The shouts echoed around Wyrm, “How dare that undead ‘queen’ think she can take the Cure from us! I am going to pull her fangs out one by one, see how she likes that!”


<The threats of torture were intermitted with Constantine ordering his underlings around him. On listening, Wyrm was able to grasp a number of things he had not known previously. Apparently, the Vampires were going to attack the Werewolf Lair>


Constantine’s yells continued, “Send warriors here, here and here. Cut down that copse there, it might provide the Vampires with some cover. And… WHAT… SOMEBODY TELL ME WHAT A STINKING WEREPYRE IS DOING IN MY LAIR!”


<Well that was as warm a reception as Wyrm could expect>


Stepping into the same room as Constantine, Wyrm remarked, “I apologize if I am stinking up your home, but you have got to admit that the smell of au de rotten flesh is not the most pleasant either.”


Constantine’s chest heaved as he struggled to restrain himself, “And what do you want here Werepyre? Are you here to assassinate me, or to try and gain control of the Cure for your disgusting hybrid race?”


Wyrm tried to remain calm, but the comments did hurt, “This is exactly why you are all doomed to fail: you and the Vampires. You are the disgusting races, shunning all others to gain domain over this dreadful place. And all for what? You’re a dog chasing your tail, you don’t know what you’ll do once you actually get it!”


Constantine’s eyes bulged with anger and saliva dripped from his jowls as he screamed in return, “GUARDS GRAP THAT WEREPYRE SO I CAN RIP HIS HEAD OFF!”


<Werewolves rushed to restrain Wyrm, but he quickly evaded their claws. In a single motion he removed his scythe and slashed through the chains that they attempted to put on him>


Raising the blade towards Constantine, Wyrm warned, “I am not here to start a fight, but I will if I must. So stop your hostilities, or I will take as many of your fighters as I can…”


<Constantine’s anger burned clearly, but there was respect there as well. Wyrm had no chance in a fight against Constantine and both knew it>


Wyrm decided that it was time to speak his piece, “I have come of my own accord to convince you to call off this war. There will be no good outcome and things will change for the worse, for all involved. If you can remember the war between the Necromancers and the Paladins then you will know of the atrocities that that war caused. The effects are still being felt to this very day.”


Wyrm let that sink in before he continued, “But if this is a war that must be fought, then I am here to fight for the Werewolves…”


<Uproar ensued from his words, but Constantine remained eerily silent and still. His eyes bore into Wyrm’s, assessing Wyrm’s intentions>


<The uproar continued for some time, before the Werewolves noticed that their leader was not joining them. Silence followed…>



Constantine eventually broke the silence by simply asking, “Why?”


Wyrm shrugged, “Should the Vampires take over, they would attempt to turn the whole of Lore. Safiria is cunning, conniving and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. I expect nothing from the Werewolves though. Nor do I expect you to even want my help, but it is something I feel I must do. However, I hope that I am making the correct choice here in siding with the Werewolves…”


<Growls of dissent arose around him, but Wyrm took no notice. Without even waiting for a response he spun around and unleashed his other half and within a flash he was outside and soaring through the dark forest once again…>




Chapter Three: Defence against Destruction




<Hikari Yume did not know what his half-brother was scheming. But he knew that he wanted to ensure that he had his own plan to fall back on>


<Traversing through the morbid landscape was depressing, even by Hikari Yume’s standards. The young wizard could feel the pain of the forest and its wish to become what it once was>



Speaking so quietly he was almost mouthing the words, he murmured, “There is much sadness here.”


<Hikari Yume did not have an especially long journey. Having known that he would be meeting his brother, Hikari Yume studied several maps of the surrounding area. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he always ensured that he would have the upper hand in any situation>


<Within a short time Hikari Yume reached his destination. The heavy pressure of many bodies lurked nearby. Hikari Yume assumed that the large force belonged to the Werewolf Army>


<The smell of unwashed bodies, rank meat and wet dog soon proved his hypothesis correct>


<The Werewolves were surrounding the mouth of a cave, which had become to source of a war. But had always been the source of the Cure>


<Hikari Yume raised his staff slightly and strands of silvery moonlight dripped down to surround the young man. The droplets reflected and refracted the little light of Darkovia creating a mirage effect. It was not true invisibility and Hikari Yume knew that it would not be suitable for most situations, however with so much magical energy surrounding the place and with tensions high in the Werewolf pack, he was sure that any foreign body of any kind would be treated as an enemy>


<Tenderly padding towards the cave was an easier task than he had previously imagined. As a natural user of the Ice element, Hikari Yume had grown accustomed to being in landscapes too bleak for life, where the wind had been the only song to sing for thousands of years. Never had Hikari Yume disrupted that silence, he had rather become one with it. Moulded by it to become the man that he was today>


<In less than a minute, the white wizard had slipped passed the Werewolf sentries stationed at either side of the gaping cave mouth. As he crept by, he saw out of the corner of his eye one of the Werewolves sniff>


<Hikari Yume had made sure that he could not be seen, nor heard. But he had not taken into account the heightened sense of smell that the Werewolves possessed>


<Without moving, Hikari Yume waited to see how the Werewolf would react>


<In a sudden movement the Werewolf lunged forward and gave a gigantic sneeze>


<The other Werewolf on duty raced over and slapped him on the back of the head with a look of concern>


The second guard angrily stepped back into place before saying, “What on Lore do you think you’re doing Bert? If the Alphas heard you sneezing like that they would kick both of us off duty and we’d be put back on kitchen duty!”

Bert, the first guard, wiped at his snout, before replying guiltily, “I’m sorry Reg, I really didn’t mean to. It just went really cold for a second and you know how sensitive my nose gets to cold temperatures. Remember that trip to Frostval we took and I was sick for three months!”

Reg sighed unsympathetically, “Yeah, maybe it was the snow everywhere, or maybe it was because you tried to drink every single barrel of Moglin juice that they had in the village!”


<Hikari Yume continued to walk on, leaving the two guards to argue amongst themselves>


<This was where his mission became more difficult. To protect the source of the Cure, Hikari Yume actually had to find the source and there were several paths created to lead the curious away into dark depths>


<Summoning a small gust of Air, he sent a gust down each of the pathways. Several of the pathways led to dead ends. Another gust led to something that seemed to be writhing, which Hikari Yume did not wish to discover. Through a tunnel there was a large space, cavernous in size and it was through this entrance that Hikari Yume took>


<The tunnel was several hundred metres long and at the end Hikari Yume emerged into a surprisingly well lit cave. In the centre of the cave lay a strange pool of green goo>


<The Cure…>


<However, Hikari Yume was not the only person in the cavern. Beside the Cure crouched a dark hooded figure>


A sneaky rasp leaked from the pale lips of the hooded figure, “Why waste your efforts on such a pathetic attempt at hiding? With your powers you could have killed each and every one of those Werewolves outside and made it in without wasting any time.”


Hikari Yume barely suppressed the urge to sigh at his half-brother’s voice, “I am not as comfortable with murder as you are brother. I might ask you the same question. Your arrival anywhere is usually followed by multiple deaths. Why are you here? You brought me out to Darkovia to tell me of a plot to use the Cure for unbalance. You knew I would do everything in my power to stop the balance from becoming tipped, yet you are here now; and for what? Are you here to stop me? That seems rather pointless, considering that it was you who invited me to this land in the first place.”


<Hikari Yume paced around the cavern, glancing at Kurai Yume every now and again to ensure that he had not moved. Hikari Yume did not like the situation that he was currently in and his deductions were starting to cause him to feel what could be described as fear>


Hikari Yume took a light breath before continuing on, “Your involvement with this war concerns me. You have no quarrels with the Vampires, or the Werewolves. You have no desire for land, or money. There is nothing for you to gain from this land and this war. Tell me what it is that you are planning…”


<Kurai Yume smiled. It was not a natural smile and something was very off about it. Something that made Hikari Yume realize that he had walked into a trap>


<Hikari Yume prepared to escape, but smoky tendrils of Darkness snaked around his feet, enclosing them and causing him to fall>


<The white wizard’s robes glowed even brighter than before and the Darkness was burned away. Hikari Yume created a wall of Ice between him and his half-brother but it quickly dissolved and melted. Kurai Yume walked through the hole that his burning hand had created>


He spoke in a voice of pride and victory, “Ice, Light and Wind are your elements. Mine are Fire, Darkness and Earth. We are exact opposites, but so alike in so many ways. Unfortunately for you I am more cunning.”


<And with that dozens more Darkness tendrils reached from all around Hikari Yume restraining his every movement>


<Hikari Yume tensed for another defence but then relaxed. There was no possible escape from the tight bonds that held him. He knew that Kurai Yume could not kill him without fear of creating an unbalance capable of destroying the fabric of reality>


Kurai Yume smiled sincerely, “See how much easier things are when we co-operate?”


<Hikari Yume gritted his teeth but said nothing>


Kurai Yume gestured towards the pool of the Cure, before continuing, “The Werewolves are planning to use this pool of gunk to modify their own race so that they can defeat their eternal enemies. Little do they know of the abilities that the Cure possesses.”


<Kurai Yume removed a crystal vial from his pocket. Inside was the Cure, but it was a darker colour and seemed to be more vaporous>


Inspecting the vial, Kurai Yume spoke softly, “The Cure is surely capable of curing the curses of Vampirism and Lycanthropy. However, it can be tainted to create a permanent curse. The longevity of a Vampire’s, the strength of a Werewolf and the passion of a Werepyre all can be obtained from the ‘Cure’.”


Twisting his head to get above a vine of Darkness, Hikari Yume muttered, “And how does this help you? They sound like limitations to me. The sun will burn, the moon will control, and hatred will be received from all other races. The pros do not outweigh the cons.”


Kurai Yume nodded along with every word that Hikari Yume said, “Correct, correct and correct again. Or… well… you would be. If it weren’t for the fact that this modified Cure can create the ultimate race. Without fear from any limitations! But I am quite aware that there may be some problems with this concoction and I do like to make sure to test my experiments, so…”


<Silently, Kurai Yume slid a syringe from his other pocket. He pulled the liquid from the vial and gave a squeeze to ensure that there were no air bubbles within the syringe>


<Understanding dawned on Hikari Yume’s face. He attempted to muster some magical power but the Darkness tendrils had been sapping his mana and energy supply. It was all the white wizard could do to keep his eyes open>


<The syringe needle plunged itself into Hikari Yume’s soft flesh without a sound. Hikari Yume breathed out as the needle entered and pain followed>


<The cave was suddenly enveloped by a cacophony. A strange whirring noise, followed by the sound of rotating gears filled the cavern>


<Blue light emanated from a source nearby and from the light stepped a Chronomancer>



The mysterious Chronomancer snickered, “It seems that you don’t have enough time to finish your little experiment, hmm?”


<In another flash of light, the Chronomancer appeared beside Hikari Yume, pulling him from the Darkness and into the blue light>


<Kurai Yume chased them in outrage, whipping a dagger of black steel towards the blue light>


<Hikari Yume watched in slow motion as the dagger neared him. Then he realized that it was actually occurring in slow motion, because he was inside a Time portal>


The Chronomancer spoke soothing words in an intelligent voice, “No need to fear, we have kept an eye on your brother for some time. We knew of his plans, but we did not realize the haste with which he would conduct them. We are truly sorry, but he did have enough time to inject you with half of the syringe…”


<Hikari Yume heard none of the Chronomancer’s words. His sight had deteriorated and all he could hear was his own blood pounding through his ears. The poison of the Cure was burning a path through every artery, vein and capillary in his body. Spider webs of pain spiralled through his body>


Coming out of the blue light the Chronomancer shouted for assistance, “Popinloopy hurry and get your butt over here! He’s been injected. Let’s just pray and hope that your healing powers are up to scratch for this…”








Uskius -> RE: =AQ= Vampires vs Lycans War Stories and Poems *name pending* (2/13/2014 12:55:48)

Once Bitten


I raise the draught to my lips, hoping it won't kill me. "Are you sure about this?"

I look over to my companion Marna, who has an eyebrow cocked. "Yes. I have this all planned- increase my power the good old-fashioned Nightbane way; this is the first step."

"Nightbane was special, Uskius. He was a dracopyre like none other will be. That potion... could just ruin your mind, or make your curse uncontrollable..."

I sigh. As always, Marna has to be the voice of reason and spoil the mood. But she's right- Nightbane grew in strength over time, gradually ascending to the top of the Darkovian food chain. What I'm about to do is condensed years of dark magic and blood, drunk all at once. But it's not like I haven't grown in strength naturally- I have drunk the blood of dragons, werewolves, an insecure thief disguised as a woman(who really should have known better), and vampires, becoming more than just a mere dracopyre(if there is such a thing). I'm a beast of many bloods, human and monster, all at once. "Well. There's only one way to find out." I slam the first flask, the mixture of dragon, werewolf, and vampire blood cascading down my throat. I frown as I swallow; I'm not overly fond of drinking blood in human form. The second goes down just as fast, but the third takes a moment to go through. I finish it slowly, taking small sips. Marna has a quizzical look on her face, dark eyes searching. "Not so bad, actually. I feel just-WRRRRRRYYYYYYYY!!!" I flail around for a second, until Marna slaps me on the back of the head. I chuckle, but she's not amused. "I do feel fine, Marna. But..." I note the hot, churning feeling in my stomach. "I think I need to get some fresh air, and transform." Marna nods, and turns to stare at the empty flasks on the table.

Stepping out of my cabin, I immediately feel the moonlight on my skin, a cool burning sensation. The feeling in my stomach grows stronger, and I barely make it out to my orchard before I transform. I involuntarily roar, the world blurring as my senses sharpen and flesh shifts. Shaking my head, things come clear: the strong scent of the dirt and the trees, and I realize that the unfamiliar but pleasant scent in the direction of my cabin must be Marna. I feel maddeningly alive, my existence magnified. The moonlight feels glorious, the pale shafts streaking through the trees seeming more like sunlight breaking through the clouds after a storm. I blink, my senses are sharper, check. Whether there are any other changes I'll soon find out. I jump up and unexpectedly bump into a tree branch, but recover quickly and stretch out my wings, twisting through the canopy and flying off. Faster reflexes, check. I surmise that I'll have improved strength, too, but I'm not in the mood to go hunting right now- I just want to fly. And fly I do, circling wide around my estate and hunting grounds. I savor the rush of the wind beneath my wings, and after several moments return to my cabin.

Landing gracefully, I focus for a moment and shift back into human form, and step back inside. "Feeling better?"

"Yes, very much better."

"Uskius," Marna says, taking a step closer. "Leave off this next step you have planned. I saw that look before you ran out, and your pupils are so wide I feel like I could stick my pinky in them. I think this was a bit too much for all at once."

"This was a rush, I'll admit. But I think I'll be able to handle step two now." I exhale. "I'm sure of it."

"Just remember what happened to Jaques," Marna says, as she walks over to my potion shelf and picks ups the flask holding the blood of The Eternal Dragon of Time, "Before you drink the blood of the Mana Dragon and whatever vampires and werewolves."

"Point taken. And I guess this means I'll be sleeping in the chair?"

"I put the pillow on the table while you were out."

In spite of myself I smile, and walk over to sit down. There's a short silence, and Marna comes to stand beside me. I glance up at her, and think of why I hatched this plan in the first place. "...Which side will you take?"

"You can't be sure fighting will break out. Don't they have a truce?"

"Did. Apparently they think a dracopyre's hunting grounds are a neutral zone where it's safe to bury bodies, because I've found plenty of vampires and werewolves on the Darkovia side of mine."

"But not any more than normal, I'd imagine."

"Far more than normal. The Darkovian vampires know better, and at least try to cover their trails when they pass through; the werewolves generally head straight for my estate instead of dumping things off at the edges."

"I think Safiria would want to keep the truce, though. It benefits everyone in Darkovia."

"On the surface. That's so like her, to tell you one thing being completely honest, while actually meaning the opposite..."

"A war's the last thing Darkovia needs right now, though. There wouldn't be any 'winning' side if one broke out."

"Which is exactly why the skirmishes have picked up. A rumor of a war is almost as effective as the real thing, and on top of that the power chain's been shaken up since the necromancers have died out. Someone needs to take their place."

Marna closed her eyes and sighed before speaking. "And I suppose you aim to be on the winning side?"

"A two-way balance is too easily tipped. I intend to be the winning side, Marna. Years from now, people will tell their children of MoonBiter's rampage to keep them from wandering into Darkovia."

"Uskius, no."

"I don't like it any more than you do..." I say, staring at the table. Marna sighs and shakes her head, and walks over to the bed.

~oOo~


The vampire walked up, her booted footsteps echoing in the empty hall. "MoonBiter," She spat, clearly disgusted, "The queen is waiting in the study."

"A pleasure to meet you, too." I get up from the bench and slink off down the hall, wondering why I've been summoned. I can think of only one other time I've been summoned, which was after Safiria learned I had become a dracopyre a few years ago. She'd told me about how she had been looking to recruit a few to establish themselves in werewolf territory, to slowly expand her holdings through them. I hadn't exactly refused or accepted, just... made sure werewolves didn't intrude on my estate. As I take the stairs up to the study, I conclude that I'm going to be used again. Safiria never rewards her supporters, she just kind of casually expects you to go along with her order because she assumes you know what'll happen if you don't. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door- and it's answered by Safiria herself. Uh-oh.

"Uskius, come in." I nod and we step over to the nearby table, where there are two chalices with a dark red liquid in them. Facedown on the table is a familiar black leather book, and my stomach sinks down to somewhere around the area of my ankles. "A beautiful night, isn't it?" She says, sitting down.

"No, not too bad."

"No wretched howls, just a deep silence, as it vas meant to be. You know, vhen these lands first darkened, the screams never stopped. It drove me mad, that the night which had once been a refuge vas now defiled by such lowly creatures. So, I began to silence them the best way I could," She said, taking a sip from her chalice. "Tell me, Uskius: vhat do you think of the werewolves?"

"They're... aggressive. But I sort of understand them, in a way. They just want a place in Darkovia like us vampires."

"No," Safiria says, leaning forwards. "They vant a place in my lands. Constantin had no interest in this place before the lands darkened, Uskius. Luminovia belongs to me. I afforded him and his followers a small place, thinking they would soon die out. But I think you know vhat happened there." Safiria took a long drink from her chalice, and looked deep into my eyes. "I am tired, Uskius. Tired of this struggle between us that should not be. But at last, I have uncovered the truth. You think you know this book?" She asked, tapping The Dark Waltz between us. I nodded. "You do not. It is not a book of necromancy and dark magic, it is a book of ascendence. Life, in a state vhere it need not fear death. Life, strong enough to withstand the unknown dark. Do you see? I have found the vay to free myself and my children from such fears."

"...How?"

Safiria continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "Deep in my lands, there is a cave which is said to hold a cure, to free the unvorthy from their 'curse'. It burns away their gift, but... it may be controlled. I had no interest in such a thing before, as you know. My lands already have enough natural magic to acquire and master. Constantin also knows of this place, Uskius. But vhat he certainly does not know is that it is most likely a natural focus site."

"Focus site? Like the one on Dragonclaw Isle?"

"Yes. And vhile he may also plan to use the site in a ritual, Constantin has been ignorant of the site's inherent magic. I have not. You will help clear the vay to the cave, and watch over it vhile I speak the words that will save my lands from their fear of death and the dark." Safiria looked down at her copy of The Dark Waltz. "If I decide that you have done adequately, I will give you this book, as I vill no longer have any use for it."

I gulp. Safiria's copy? Perhaps there are handwritten notes, or I could gather some insights by which pages are the most worn. At the very least, it would put four of the seven copies I know of in my possession, which is something I desperately want. I nod. "Yes."

"Good. Ve will march at midnight tomorrow." Safiria then begins to detail some of her observations of the ritual, along with when it's most vital the cave be guarded.

~oOo~


The sun is beginning to set, a dark orange and red color. "Ready, Noxus?" My nightmare wyvern nods, and I hop on. "Head over, and see if she's ready..." It's a quick flight over to Marna's house, out past my hunting grounds and a few huts out to her orchard, touching down in front of her cabin. I slide off and walk up to the door, and knock two and a half times(two knocks and a thump leaving my fist against the door). There's no answer, and the door's unlocked, so I open it and poke my head in. It's empty. "Didn't see her in the orchard..." It's still early, so maybe she's in Battleon getting something. And it's not like she doesn't know where I'll be in Darkovia; there are very obvious planes and angles of attack the werewolves and vampires will meet. I decide to just fly over there alone, and with a sigh hop back onto Noxus.

I think of the next stage of my plan. Part of the reason I've decided to align with Safiria(temporarily, I think) is that fighting against the werewolves would give me a chance to meet the Were King, Constantin. If I have a dubious reputation amongst the Darkovian vampires, that's just a shadow of the hate the werewolves feel for me. They saw me as the perfect spy: an adventurer who'd died hundreds of times, fairly non-threatening; someone who knew the vampires and despite his apparent weakness was still capable. And then I became a werepyre, and shortly after that a dracopyre. They've been after me ever since. Safiria, of course, plays that period of time as me being deep in cover and carrying out covert operations for her, which made it easier for me around the vampires, and even worse with the werewolves. Maybe if I let myself be captured, they'll bring me to Constantin so he can execute me personally. Or, maybe... No, that's foolish, even by my standards. It'd help speed up my plans but I'm in a sticky situation as is.

So, naturally, when my guess of the werewolves' base camp is correct and werewolf soldiers surround me as I land, the first thing I say to them is, "Take me to your king. Tell him MoonBiter has information on the vampire's plans direct from Safiria."

"And how do we know that you are MoonBiter, or that you're not another assassin?!" Shouts one werewolf, getting in my face.

"If I was an assassin I wouldn't have come straight to your base camp. And you can know I'm MoonBiter, because..." In a whirl I transform, shaking my mane and stretching out my wings. I stare down at the werewolf, and growl. "Need any more proof?" The werewolf snarls, and steps back. Six werewolves grab hold of me, two for each of my arms and my tail, and march me forwards into the forest. The light grows darker as we head deeper in, and the scent of more werewolves intensifies. A werewolf comes to greet us, and they trade a few rough whispers, and the werewolf leaves. A glare is sent my way from the lead werewolf, who then smiles cruelly.

"You are fortunate there are so many new pups, MoonBiter. After your little audience with our king you'll get to show them how we deal with traitors."

"Technically, I've never betrayed the cause of the werewolves. I just happen to go after anything that moves in my hunting grounds."

"We know you went back to that witch and her spawn."

"And you cannot serve two masters," Says the lead werewolf. As I think of that, just a handful of moments later we come to the cave, and enter through the stone jaws. The cavern erupts in chaotic noise when the gathered werewolves see me come in, some letting out shouts of triumph and others starting to chant "Eat his heart!" Lovely.

I roar, and surprisingly am able to fling off the werewolves holding me without much trouble. "I come here as an equal," I say. Hmm, not offensive enough. "Not to you, but to your king. My message is for him, not a pack of pups who have yet to taste the blood of a vampire!" The werewolves get even louder, but still not loud enough. I want Constantin out here, so that I don't have to fight through a cavern full of angry werewolves. "You all are expendable, and interchangeable! The only worth you have is as a group! I am the only one of you who has ever meant something, I am a Chosen of Battleon! I have become more than a man, more than a werewolf, and certainly more than any of you will ever be!" There we go. Thankfully my plan has worked, as I smell Constantin approaching from the throne room. The werewolves part like a stream flowing around a boulder, and Constantin appears in front of me. He growls, and I'm confronted by the full weight of my stupidity. The werewolf to his right smell somewhat familiar, but that's the least of my worries right now.

"I have been waiting for this day..." The cavern fills with howls of triumph. I roar to quiet them down, and raise my voice.

"Constantin, my business is with you only. Send these pups away so we can talk in private-"

"You will say what you have to say before me and all my brothers." The gathered werewolves roar in approval, and Constantin raises his claw for silence.

"Very well. This source of magic, a place one known to cure your curse? It is known to Safiria as well. And it is also known to her what you plan to use it for. But I can only assume that even someone such as you would expect that of her, correct? So hear this- do not strike at midnight, when they will be expecting you to. The ritual to ascend to even greater power will take time, and it would all come to nothing if the final moments were interrupted- this is when you must make your assault. Furthermore, Safiria herself dictated the ceremony to me. So if we left for the site now, we would be able to perform it, and then regroup and strike with higher force when Safiria is convinced she has won."

Constantin nods, and I relax a little bit. "Your words mean nothing, Uskius. Hand me my Dualight!" The cavern is deafening, and the werewolf to his right reluctantly hands the sword to him. "Kneel," He commands, and involuntarily I obey. At this point I'm not sure if things would be worse if my plan succeeds or not. "Any last words?" The "Eat his heart!" chant starts up again, and I close my eyes for a second to focus.

"Just two: Red Fog!" Constantin's eyes widen in surprise, and the werewolves around me howl in pain as the soupy red fog surrounds us. Hoping Noxus followed us here, I try to call my sword Gyrfang to my hand- and apparently Noxus is close enough, as Gyrfang pops up. Constantin roars and swings, and I find I can block. With my enhanced reflexes, I discover I'm able to deflect shots he would have connected with before, and even land some of my own- but I'm not looking for a killing blow here. I fight through my nerves for a little bit longer, but soon they overtake me and I'm frozen in fear for a second; Gyrfang doesn't make it to where it needs to be, and I take a hard slash to my shoulder. The pain jolts me back into awareness, and I send a flurry of swings at Constantin, flapping my wings and swatting him with them. A couple of these swings hit, but they're not quite deep enough and the damage is healed by his regeneration. We lock blades, and I feel fear beginning to creep in again. Then with a flash of inspiration, I know what to do. I slide Gyrfang's twin blades up and catch Constantin's Dualight between them, and then twist as hard as I can. The surprise attack catches him off guard, and scores a deep cut across his chest. I quickly follow it up with a claw swipe along the same line, deepening the wound. Constantin looks shocked I've been able to do this, but I don't wait for him to get over that feeling. I call an empty flask from Noxus' saddlebags and command, "Fill!" The simple spell draws out Constantin's blood. He watches spellbound for a moment, then his eyes narrow and I can see the exact moment he realizes what I'm doing. Not good, as while I may have been able to hold my own a moment ago, Constantin was still holding back, and is far more dangerous barehanded. Time to get the Heck out of Krovesport.

I stop up the flask and cast the fire spell H4XBBQ, putting almost all my mana into it. The flames burst out around me and send werewolves flying, and I rocket back out of the cavern, knocking aside the werewolves in my way. "Noxus! Circle around towards Safiria's castle!" The nightmare wyvern looks at me for a second and then takes off, and I jump above the treeline and fly full speed back to Marna's house. I shudder at the enormity of what I've just done. There won't be any justifying this or walking away from it, and essentially I've just set up a lose-lose situation for myself. Unless... I can make it to Safiria's castle before the news spreads. Darkovia has eyes and ears everywhere, so you never know how fast word will travel, or who heard what. I drop down and land in the canopy of a tree to think for a minute. Do I continue to Marna's house and let her know where I'm headed, or head straight to Castle Darkovia? I mull it over for a second and decide to head to Marna's house, so she'll know what's going on. Her house is close to mine, and could easily get overrun if the werewolves and vampires send any soldiers my way. I spring off the tree limb and resume my flight. I realize that I'm flying almost as fast as Noxus, and put on a burst of speed. Despite the circumstances the flight lifts my spirits, and the fear has faded away as Marna's cabin comes in sight, leaving only urgency.

Two and a half knocks. No answer. I knock again, and still no answer. The door's still unlocked so I look in, and the cabin is empty. Where is Marna? Maybe she went to my house while I was in Darkovia, thinking I'd be there. "Alright. Leave a note then stop by my place before heading out..." Uttering a short spell, a globe of light pops into being, and I find some paper and a quill. "Ran into a bit of trouble in Darkovia. You weren't here when I got back, so I left to take care of it. ~Uskius" I extinguish the globe of light and headed back out, assuming my dracopyre form and winging back over to my place. A dark feeling settles on me, a chill creeping up my spine as I draw closer to my cabin. I don't smell any monsters hiding around my estate, but the feeling doesn't go away. I land on my porch and extend my hearing and smell to their limits, still finding nothing. I shift back to human form and head in. I light a lamp, and find my cabin empty. I sigh, and turn around to blow out the lamp and leave when someone knocks at the door. Two and a half- that's Marna! I hurry over and open the door, and my blood goes cold in my veins.

"Hello, Uskius. May I step in?"

"How did you get here?" I stutter. Safiria raises an eyebrow, and I move aside for her. She walks in and sits down on the edge of my bed, motioning for me to join her. "How. Did you get here."

"Vhat, you think I must valk or fly as you do? I learned to teleport many moons ago. You should learn sometime, and not run around so much."

"But," I swallow, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I cannot visit a loyal supporter?" I don't answer, and she shakes her head. "You do not exist in a vacuum, Uskius. You are a Chosen, vhat you do echoes." Safiria turns the full weight of her gaze on me, and I can't breathe. "Imagine how it looks to me vhen a loyal vampire siphons the magic of my lands to create a focus site of his own, or how it is vhen this vampire debases my gift with the blood of wolves and dragons. And especially how it looks vhen I share my plans with this same vampire and he goes running off to betray me. I keep an eye on you, Uskius, because vhile you may not be powerful you always end up on the winning side. And I do not intend to lose my lands to Constantine."

"Just... kill me..." I force out.

Safiria laughs, actually laughs, holding the back of her hand to her mouth. It's actually a quite lovely sound, but that barely registers with me at the moment. "Kill you? How do I use death to threaten a necromancer that has died five hundred and sixty-four times?" I feel my face heat up, it always embarrasses me when the exact number is brought up. "No, Uskius, there are far more powerful things than mere death. You see, vhile the fear of death drives you, it is not vhat you are really seeking. I have alvays known vhat you want from me."

My face burns, and I become aware of my pulse. "What... are you saying..."

Safiria lays a hand on my shoulder, touches the base of my neck. "Nothing more than I have already said, Uskius." Safiria says, rolling my name around her mouth like a piece of candy. She undoes her collar, and flicks it onto my table. I momentarily get lost in her golden eyes, and feel as if I'm falling towards her.

"No! This, this isn't right..." I stand up, dizzy and light-headed. I glance towards the spot on my potion shelf where I have the ring hidden.

"Ha... still you talk of right and wrong. Vell then. Vhat is this mysterious thing you want from me?" I keep my eyes fixed on my potion shelf, knowing that if I look back towards Safiria I'll break.

"Your blood."

"My blood? And nothing else?"

I gulp. "No. Nothing else." I walk over to my potion shelf and grab an empty flask, and with my eyes fixed on the floor I turn back to Safiria. "Here. If you want me on your side, give me your blood."

Safiria sighs, and stands up. "Very well." She uncorks the flask and takes it from me, and reaches into her bodice for something. Apparently, she's able to somehow hide a knife in there, as I hear a small cut. Moments later I dare to glance up, and see the glass flask filling up, nearly full. "Is this good?" I wait a second, then nod. Safiria stops up the flask, and puts it down on my bed next to the one holding Constantin's blood. "Vell. Being a dracopyre, I am sure you know what I must do after losing that amount of blood." Before I have time to fully process what she just said, Safiria slams me against the door, and bites my neck. Or so I think. As I realize what she's doing and move to throw her off her fangs sink into the base of my neck, and my resistance fades. I'm being played like a fool, as easily as stealing from a blind man. "Ah..." Safiria breathes, looking into my eyes.

"You need to leave," I stammer. I stumble over to my table and pick up her collar. "Here, take this and go."

"No, keep it," Safiria says with a smile. "It is one of many." She opens the door and takes a half step out before turning back to me. "Oh, and Uskius, you may want to know: my eyes and ears reported a woman leaving a nearby cabin for Constantin's lair earlier this evening." The front door shuts behind Safiria, and I sink down to my knees. For what seems like forever I can only hear the sound of my own heartbeats.

~oOo~


I stir the contents of the cauldron, and then reach for the final flask- the blood of The Eternal Dragon of Time. I collected it shortly after its mutated heads were defeated and it resumed its normal form a couple years ago, a rare opportunity that even I recognized. After filling up the flask I called up water from the Pool of Immortality to clean its wounds, and nobody suspected anything out of the ordinary had happened. Until just recently I'd never thought to use it for anything. Hesitating, I remove the cork and pour the blood in, stirring it clockwise a few times. I close my eyes and breathe for a moment. I stir the mixture a bit more, my arm trembling. I raise the flask I just emptied, and speak the simple spell. "Fill." The command is magically carried out, and I repeat it twice more. This is it. I've stepped up from splashing in a tiny puddle to wading into an ocean, so to speak- now it's time to dive in. I look up to the moon, full and white. "A terrible night to have a curse..." Commending my soul to Lorithia, I raise the draught to my lips, hoping it doesn't kill me. I force down the first flask as quickly as I can, and the second almost as fast. Again, the third takes longer, but not as long as the last time. The flask drops to the ground as my arm shakes, and cracks.

For a moment, my nerves calm and I feel nothing. Then my arms tremble again, and the hot, boiling feeling in my stomach returns. My whole body begins to shudder, and the blazing, uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach travels back up my throat. It comes out as a yell, my heart pumping white-hot fire through my veins. My bones have a burning ache in them, and the fire spreads until my whole body seems to burn from the inside out. It flares up and then fades, and in the back of my mind I hear a faint steaming sound. My senses come under assault from several angles. My sight seems too sharp, everything bathed in a bright silvery light; my hearing is pounded by the sound of my heartbeat and the wind rustling through the trees; the smell of the soil and grass invades my nose, as do the smells of my pets and house guards; my skin is far too sensitive, the night breeze seeming as if I'm swimming through needles; and I can taste the blood draught, a distinct and savory blend. I look down, and realize that at some point I transformed into a dracopyre. My hide is the same shade, but its color jumps out at me. I stretch out my wings and see that they're larger, but still retaining their shape. I shake my head, knowing that there's more left to do, but I'm still reeling from the sensory overload. I stumble and fall down, trying to shut everything out and retreat within myself to a place of calm. Focusing with all I can, the storm fades into a headache, and I dare to open my eyes.

The world is no less dim, still awash in bright silver light. I suddenly seem back in myself, and look around: there are my mana collectors, bubbles rising up through the ethereal and oddly familiar green liquid inside the forked, flame-like tongues, and behind me is my guard tower, the dragon crest on the side standing out against the timber. Then I look back towards my mana collectors, and see the spell circle on the ground, an artificial sort of focus site. I created it to cast Power Word Pie(long story), but haven't made use of it since. Then the frantic rewording of the circle's language earlier comes back to me, and in the middle of the circle, apart from the cauldron and empty flasks, is a large bottle. My heart sinks, as I remember stealing it from Marna's house. She must have kept it there for after the war was over, when she would no longer need to be a werewolf. It's only fair, I suppose, that she has a way out. I clear the circle of everything but Marna's bottle of The Cure, and fight to calm the painfully sharp rush of my senses. It's time. MoonBiter will kiss the night, and swallow the stars.

I open the bottle, and take a deep breath. Unlike the blood draught, I'm not exactly sure of what this will do, and if my system will be able to handle another large shock so soon after the last one. I nick my forearm with my claw, and a few drops of blood fall into a small circle on the outside of the larger one. It sizzles in the moonlight, and I begin speaking the words of the ritual. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the words are very similar to a basic concept of necromancy- binding a spirit to a corpse. Except this isn't a spirit I'm working with, but a curse, that of a dracopyre. Safiria said that by attuning the substance to the vampiric curse, by imprinting our essence on it, it would become a tranformative catalyst instead of a scouring force. And while I'm no longer just a vampire, I've certainly become familiar with dragons and werewolves and dracopyres, the ritual's language is easily adjusted. However, pronouncing certain words with my dracopyric tongue is tricky, so I go slowly so I can enunciate as clearly as I can. As I speak the last few words of the ritual, I feel a closeness, as if the world is leaning in to listen.

Shivering with anxiety now, I step into the circle, and pick up the bottle of The Cure. My magical senses tell me waves of heat are rolling off the bottle, and I faintly can physically feel them, contrasting with the cool touch of the moonlight. It pours onto the ground not like a sludge, but a liquid, spreading out into a puddle filling the inside of the spell circle. This of all things worries me, because the bottle wasn't quite as big as my human forearm, and the spell circle can fit a few people inside it. I lift my feet up so the sludge can run under them, and then before I can get too nervous I finish the ritual with a shout, raising my arms to the moon. The sludge bubbles up at my ankles and then leaps up around me, covering every inch of me. I feel a heat so intense my brain subconsciously shuts off my nerves grip me, smothering me against the ground. My vision whites out, and for a moment I swear I can smell with the tip of my tail and hear from my armpit. I can briefly taste with my left palm, and overwhelming sensation. My senses continue to shift and heighten, until with one final sharpening they solidify.

I blink, and find myself on the ground in my spell circle. The dirt is visible again, the green sludge gone- and I'm still a dracopyre. I don't feel different, per se, but I feel full of health, and new- as if I became unstuck in time and appeared in a brand new world, starting over fresh and clean. My senses are no longer painfully sharp, but they still press in on me, begging for my attention. I take a deep breath, and then another, relishing the air filling my lungs like everything I'd breathed before now was a cheap imitation of what air really was. I take my deepest breath, and roar from the bottom of my lungs. I've been told MoonBiter's roar sounds like the cry of a creature in pain, and while this roar is recognizable as my own there is a depth to it that seems to declare that this pain will soon be yours as well. Far away, I hear running. Good. Those around my estate and hunting grounds will learn to run.

~oOo~


The strong scent of werewolves reaches my nose, and I land in the forest a short ways from the werewolf base camp. I don't bother to be stealthy as I walk forwards, because that's not what I'm here for.

"Who goes there?" I want to reply with something snappy like "your worst nightmare", but rage begins to creep up and I simply growl. "Show yourself, this is werewolf territory!" Instead of steeping around the thin Darkovian tree, I snap it off and keep walking forwards, and the werewolve's eyes go wide, and he points at me. "There he is, that's Moon-" I punch him, sending him flying into another tree.

"Didn't know I had a fan club. Where is she?"

"There are several 'she's right here," Says a female werewolf. "You'll have to be more specific."

"WHERE. IS. MARNA?!" The werewolf flinches and takes a step back.

"I don't know anyone named that-" A harder punch, and this werewolf connects with a tree and gets contorted up in its branches.

"If none of you can tell me where I can find Marna, then I will tear Darkovia apart until I get to her!"

"Don't act all high and mighty, MoonBiter! Even if we did know we wouldn't tell a traitor like you." The werewolf gets in my face, and continues, "More than a werewolf? More than a dracopyre? You aren't special, MoonBiter- you're the same piece of trash that you've always been-" I bite into the werewolf as hard as I can and bring him down to the ground, pummeling and slashing his face. I hear the growls of the werewolves around me, and smell someone approaching. It's an Alpha, their spiked cuffs glinting in the moonlight. I don't wait for the welcoming party to start, and inhale deeply. I breathe out my energy breath, a bright lance of lightning scarring the air between us. It stuns him for a moment, and I draw Gyrfang and rush in. The first slash goes unblocked, and the second isn't deflected in time, also connecting. Slashing at full speed and strength it only takes a few more strikes to finish the job. The surrounding werewolves back up, and I race through them to the lair, not bothering to strike twice. Before long the werewolves seem all the same as they step up to stop me. Gyrfang does its brutal work, the twin golden blades slicing through the night like the howl of a banshee. I find myself swarmed by a pack of werewolves suddenly, and realize I've made it to the lair. I spin around in a circle slashing with Gyrfang, and leapt high into the air. I release my energy breath with a roar, the pillar of energy stabbing into the ground bursting out in a shockwave that swept the gathered werewolves off their feet. I angle towards the stone maw of the cave entrance as I descend, stabbing with Gyrfang as I land on a werewolf.

I step in, and roar as loud as I can. The werewolves who weren't aware something was going on outside whirl around and focus on me, and once again I have a cavern full of werewolves in front of me. But there is a ravenous, persistent anger in my heart, and I'm in no mood to provoke them right now. "Where is Marna? I will only ask once!"

"Unlike you, we would never betray one of our-" My energy breath erupts in a livid streak of purple lightning, clearing a long path through the werewolf and towards the throne room. I roar again, and begin marching to Constantin's chamber. The mass of werewolves remains parted, and I don't bother to step around the fallen in my path.

"CONSTANTIN!" The werewolf king doesn't immediately show himself, which I take as a personal affront to my quest. I let out a long roar, starting to run towards the throne room. The two Alphas guarding the room step in front of the doorway, Dualights raised. I put on a burst of speed and jump straight at them, deflecting their swords with Gyrfang and my forearm and clotheslining them into the wall, cracking the rock. I walk into the room and Constantin has just stepped off the throne, visibly angered.

"Who do you think you are?! What do you think gives you the right to do this?"

"WHERE DO YOU HAVE HER?!" I demand, stomping up to Constantin.

"Who."

"Marna!"

"...Marna? Of Battleon? She's not here-" I take a swing at Constantin but he blocks it, and shoves me back. "She isn't here!"

"Then you will tell me where she is!"

"She was part of a prisoner exchange- Safiria left with her just before you-" I don't wait for Constantin to finish, and drop Gyrfang and start mauling him. He recovers quickly, and strikes back with several slashes to my chest. We begin circling around, pounding each other with blows like the beat of a war drum. He scores a vicious slash to my cheek, I hit him back harder with a clawing strike at his heart; he retaliates with an even harder punch to my ribs, and I land an elbow that sends Constantin flying into his throne, breaking off the top as he tumbles over it. I've heard all that I want to, and right now don't care to stay and see if I can defeat Constantin. I pick up Gyrfang and focus all of my power into my energy breath, aiming at the roof of the cave. The beam drives through the rock and into the open air, and I jump and begin climbing up. The air smells crisply of blood, and far off I can hear the sound of fighting. I growl, and take off for Castle Darkovia.

~oOo~


The sound of howls and screams is audible from this distance even with the wind rushing past me as I fly. I can see the werewolves and vampires locked in a bitter clash at the bridge as I close in, and swoop around to it. It's split down the middle, the vampire warriors on the castle side, the werewolves pushing hard against the vamp front line. With a bit of my energy coming back, I let out a crackling bolt of energy breath that blasts apart the arc in front of the two statues. I land on the bridge and finish the job, punching the rest of the far side down into the blood moat. I twist around and backhand the nearby werewolves off the bridge, then leap over the vampires and glide down to the gate. I knock, and the guard's window opens. "MoonBiter. Here to interrogate the prisoner from the exchange. The vamp nods and opens the door, giving me an unsure look as she points me to the dungeons. I stalk off with purpose, not looking to the right or left. The monstrous rush of rage and adrenaline has faded, leaving me a little shaky. The vampires I pass on the way there are surprised to see a dracopyre walking their halls, but strangely none of them question me, though one stops and stares as if to say something as I pass them on the way down the stairs. The scent of werewolves blends with other less pleasant smells as I come to the dungeon. The guards stare blankly at me, and I growl. "Marna."

"Why would Lady Safiria pick you to question her?"

"Because I know Marna personally."

The vampire's eyebrows go up, and he hands me a key. "Back corner on the left." I nod and walk down the long hallway, seeing dark shapes scurry to the shadows in the backs of their cells as I pass. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to prepare myself, then turn to my left. What I see is still a shock: Marna is in her human form, manacled to the wall and slumped down to her knees, only wearing a large shapeless sack. She's already been roughed up, bruises and abrasions visible on her cheeks. Trying not to shake, I unlock the door, and she looks up.

The look of pain and surprise and hope on her face stabs into my heart."H- how...?"

"The how isn't important. Now listen," I say, leaning in, "I'm going to take us up to the study, and we'll leave from there. DON'T TALK BACK TO ME!" I rip out the manacles from the wall, and haul Marna up, marching her off. The vamps guarding the door look very skeptical, and I walk up to the one who handed me the key. "Where's Lady Safiria?" I growl. Marna has a moment of genius and lurches away from me, but I reign her back in.

"In her chambers. She asked to not be disturbed."

"Fine. Tell her we'll be in the study, I got something out of Marna she needs to hear." The vampires nod, and I hand the key off as we go back up the stairs. Coming back into the hall, Marna looks around before whispering to me.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I paid a little visit to the werewolves earlier tonight. They pointed me over here."

"...Uskius, I-"

"Save it. I just don't want you anywhere even close to Safiria."

"I, I need to explain. There's more to it-"

"You aren't safe among the werewolves. Or vampires."

"What difference would it make between them? And, you know, I wasn't-" A vamp approaches, eyeing us suspiciously. "-Planning on getting captured, you fangface. My king will eat Safiria's heart!" Marna shouts at the vamp. I give Marna a thwack on the shoulder and growl, and speed up our walk. The study is on almost the other side of the castle, and I want to hurry just in case someone actually alerts Safiria to my presence. There are the other vampire lords, as well, who don't have the tolerance for me that their queen does. Thankfully the only one I see is carrying a VampSpear, giving a curt nod as he passes. I'm reminded of how my luck runs in extremes both ways, and that this upswing is going to head South sometime- probably soon.

Though I don't meet any more vampire lords, every vampire soldier we pass is very suspicious of us. A couple stop to ask questions, and I stick with my holding-her-captive-in-the-study-so-Safiria-doesn't-have-to-visit-the-dungeons lie. This is good enough for everyone we meet... except Carmilla, one of Safiria's personal guards, who sees us from down the hall where she is keeping watch at the door to Safiria's quarters. "Yes; I vill watch with you. Edwina vill be fine on her own for a little while."

"There's no need, Carmilla. I've come across frogzards more dangerous than Marna."

"That may be, but there must be something special about her if MoonBiter has been assigned to interrogate her, and hold her."

"Enough with your flattery, it will get you nowhere. I can handle this."

Carmilla shakes her head. "No, I am certain now."

"Fine then, you can join us- on one condition."

"Vhat?"

"Do the dance." Carmilla glares at me, and I clear my throat and open the door for her. Marna looks over her shoulder at me as I push her forwards, and mouths "Frogzards?" Thank Lorithia I can't blush as a dracopyre. I take Marna in and sit her down roughly at the rear of the study, in a chair near the fireplace. "Carmilla."

"Yes?"

"You question her for a moment, ask her about what she found at the Bridge of Souls and on her surveillance missions, I need to find something real quick." Carmilla nods, and her expression turns cold and hard as she leans in to talk to Marna. I turn back to the study, and inhale. The normally faint scent of vampires is strong in the room, but there are a some spots that stand out, where I guess Safiria and other vampires spent a good amount of time. There's the table near the entrance, the other chair near the fireplace, and a few spots on the shelves. I step over to the first area, nothing of note there. The second, a few feet away, holds an ancient book with a faded title, Arch something or other, but though I'm very tempted to lift that it isn't what I'm looking for. Then, my eyes are pulled to a book closer to the door away from the third high traffic area: an ancient black leatherbound volume, that would be unremarkable except for the words contained within. As I pull The Dark Waltz off the shelf, I hear Marna raise her voice and say, "As it was meant to be!" Quickly I open the book, and on the front page is a short handwritten note: "My dear Safiria, I have failed you but I know that with this book you will save Luminovia, and the world at large. Blood calls to blood, and I hope to one day hear your voice again." Before I can get absorbed in the implications and meaning of the old note, I snap the book shut and walk over to Carmilla and Marna. "This is the book? The one you told me that Constantin had?"

Carmilla's eyes widen and she gasps in shock as she sees The Dark Waltz, and she levels a formidable glare at Marna. "Yes, that's the one."

"That's not possible! There shouldn't even be any other copies on this side of the continent!"

"Then how would my king know the rites to perform?" Marna says to Carmilla, eyebrow arched.

"Who found it for him?" I ask. "Constantin's never had any interest in this sort of thing before."

"Why, that sounds like a question a vampire would know the answer to," Marna replies with a smirk.

I growl and shoot my energy breath at the window, blowing it out. "Don't play games with us! We need a name. Now."

Marna grins, and in that moment, to me she seems more beautiful than she ever has before. "Edwina."

"That's- Edwina hasn't been to that side of Darkovia since... before..." As Carmilla's sentence trails off, the door to the study opens. I don't have to look to know who's just come in, and in a flash I grab Marna and dive through the window.

~oOo~


"-I want to at least change out of this sack," Complains Marna, as we get to the clearing and touch down.

"No can do, it's too dangerous to go back home right now. Both sides will be looking for us there."

Marna looks down at the ground for a second. "...Fine. But if we aren't going home there are a couple places I'd like to go."

"Alright then. Where to first?"

"Just a couple minutes West of here. You'll know the place when you see it." I shrug and pick up Marna again, heading off West. As she said, it's not very long before a building comes in sight, and I adjust my course straight for it. The small fort appears rundown and in need of repair, and smells of rot and decay. I land and set Marna down carefully.

"We're here..."

Marna nods, and straightens up. "I'm here, WolfWing!" WolfWing? Wait-

Before I can collect my thoughts, the man himself appears, swooping in to land next to us. "...And you brought him with you... very well. Prepare yourself to accept my curse, Marna." Waiting for her to take a few deep breaths, WolfWing steps over and bites into the base of Marna's neck. She doesn't even flinch. After WolfWing leans back she closes her eyes and shakes her head, swaying slightly. "So you've survived. Congratulations, Marna: you are now a werepyre, burdened with glorious purpose!"

"Is this why you became a werewolf?"

"Yes... I realized finally the path I'm on isn't the same one you walk, and wouldn't walk. So, I decided to follow you down yours." Marna tilts her head, offering me the other side of her neck. "If you would, Uskius..."

In the midst of the insanity of this night, I've forgotten something that I now remember- it's officially Snugglefest. I calm myself and focus, and shift back into my human form. Forget the ring, I'm doing this now. "Marna, I... have been afraid of losing myself to my curse, scared that it would swallow me up and leave me for dead, but it didn't, because you were there. When I felt like I couldn't even crawl, you said I could, and I did. When I thought that I couldn't walk forwards, you told me I could, and I did. So now, I'd like to say that I'll follow you wherever you go; if you should die, then I will go with you, and I will say to Death, 'no, you can't have this one- she's mine'. A- and..." I swallow as I begin to tear up, and I kneel. "Marna, will you marry me?"

Marna slaps me. "Uskius Landarine, after everything you've put me through, and all we've done together, NOW is when you ask?!"

"W- well, I just thought- I mean, it seemed like the-"

"The answer's yes, you idiot." Marna leans down and kisses me, and I return it from the bottom of my heart-

"I'm not renting out this place for honeymoons, so you'll have to stay the night somewhere else." I look towards WolfWing, and he gives a good-natured chuckle. "...And now, you two are burdened with a glorious purpose of a different kind."

I smile and nod. "Things are far from over, with the war and for us. After all, the first step is the one you believe in."

Marna squeezes my hand. "Let's go take the second."

Blood to Blood, Pain to Pain


The shattered twin golden blades of my sword Gyrfang lie at my feet, the fires of the burning and wrecked remains of what was once the Darkovia forest glinting off of them. "It's finished..."

Beside me the newly turned dracopyre SunEater looks over, her breath hanging in small white mists. "Nothing will ever be the same, will it? No going back..."

"No going back," I confirm. "Now it's up to us to see where we go from here." At the edges of my sight I catch something moving and turn my head to look. A group of people running towards us; further inspection shows them to be three vampires and a werewolf.

"There! Head for the red one!" Shouts one of the vampires. They speed up, and then begin shouting the last thing I expect: "Shelter! Please, help us!" I stretch out my wings and their advance slows to a halt. "Please... they're- they're all gone-" I stare them down, almost asking who's gone. But as I'm covered head to toe in blood and other fluids, I think I already know. "Armstrong, and Hydra- they... the castle is destroyed, and the lair demolished..."

"If that's true, what makes you think the rest of Darkovia is any safer?" Asks Marna, flexing the claws of her dracopyre form. While very slender, she certainly looks capable of eating a sun- or anything else that should cross her, for that matter.

"...We heard that one of the dracopyres, MoonBiter, he stood up to Safiria and Constantin," Said the werewolf. "That he'd set out on his own way. I knew that after the fighting started, I'd have to throw in with one of the werepyres or dracopyres if I wanted to make it out of here alive..."

"The four of us met on the run from Armstrong and the others," Explains the vampire who'd first approached. "You have to understand, Constantin and Safiria- they're gone! There's no one left..."

After a moment, it finally gets through to me what these four are after. I literally can't believe it; I shake my head as I bend down to pick up the handle of Gyrfang, then start to walk off. "If you follow me you will die."

"We're already dead!" I pause for a moment, and think of my last conversations with Safiria, and her dreams for these lands.

"...Then let's go haunt Darkovia." I shake out my wings in a shower of red, and fly off with a roar.




Seth Hydra -> RE: =AQ= War of the Fangs: Evolution! War Stories and Poems (2/13/2014 22:41:39)

Darkovia Erupts:

Part 1: Frontline

Seth used his axe to parry the Vamp blade away, the collison creating fiery sparks which caused the Vampire soldier to retreat backwards.

He faced Seth in an open enclosure in front of the Vampires Castle, an army of fallen vampires halting his retreat. Seth had already raised a mound of corpses, and there was one last Warrior left.

The Vampire charged at Seth, who predicting a sideways slash, jumped out of the blades arc.
The vampire once again rushed at him, this time surrounded by a dark aura. Seth once again parried the strike with his Axe, and thrust his Chieftains Ironthorn on the vampire. The shieldbash caught the vampire off guard, and wasnt able to counter the attack, and was sent sprawling. The vampire, a furious look in his eyes but he looked broken. Seth saw his chance and lunged at him, which led to the vampire lifting his blade in defence. Seth slammed his shield on the blade, leaving him defenseless for the final blow.With one slash of his axe, the vampire collapsed on his back, now truly dead.

Seth shook with the weight of his armor. Despite dissolving his body into wispy shadows and possessing the carapace of Ultimon, Veils former emperor, he felt strained having lived on the frontline for the better part of the last three days. He could only imagine the plight of the other members of operation wolfpack.

A few days ago, before the war broke loose, Seth along with a few members of the A-team, Madara, Popinloopy, Wyrm and Storm were personal guests of Constantine, better knows as the Wolfking. He recruited them as an elite task force to take the war to the vampires doorsteps, yet Seth had gone for a reason of his own.

A day before his audience with the Werewolfking, he had a private meeting with Wolfwing and Cenara at his estate in Deren. They had come at an urgent time, with news that clashes were to erupt between the rival factions. Cenera was convinced that she wouldnt be able to act,without blowing the war into massive proportions and that Donovan would leap at the slightest weakness of either of the three sides.

Wolfwing meanwhile was worried that if the war broke out, other races like humans, moglins and the wood dwellers that made Darkovia their home would be caught in the crossfire, and so he needed someone to intercept both the forces. He had already recruited a legion of werepyres, yet he needed a strong tactician amongst them. After much convincing, Seth finally agreed and decided to act undercover.

"You wont have to do much warring" Wolfwing, now in his human form Erimus spoke in a reassuring voice.

"You mean Billy, dont you?" Seth grinned, and continued "I dont know any other mongers who are loyal to the werepyres who can revel in that much destruction".

"You're sharp Seth, I'll give you that. Indeed it is Billy who I recruited for the frontline. You will already have a lot on your mind, and you havent been on the frontline for a while now... taking care of Battleon, and maintaining relations with Stormfallen. To lead the charge, would be asking to much of you" Wolfwing smiled.

Seth hesitated, then spoke "What about those who'll be fighting beside me? Madara, Popin, Storm... I cant hide something like this from them?"

Cenara spoke "You cant tell them anything Seth, atleast not in the beginning. Thousands of lives are dependent on this task being successful."

Seth sighed. Cenara was right, if anyone found out and the Wereking came to know of this mission, the war would blow to a regional scale.

Wolfwing smiled " I know what you're thinking Seth, that you cant lie to your friends, especially ones who share life and death moments with you. But you have to, for the sake of Darkovia, you must bear this burden".

Cenara motioned to wolfwing, and she turned to Seth "Alright, we'll be off now! You'll need time to prepare your tactics for the forthcoming war". Winking her eye, she transformed into Gracefang and Wolfwing transformed into a werepyre. Just as they achieved lift, Seth called out

"Hey Wolfwing!"

Which caused the pair to turn around.

Seth bellowed "Leading the frontlines isnt asking to much of me, lying to friends, that's too much!"

Wolfwing spoke to Seth telepathically "The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few or the one Seth, this you must understand".

Cenara's voice poked into the telepathic conversation, and she interrupted "Grandpa, did you just quote Spock?"

But Wolfwing had already shot off.

Cenara asked Seth "Will you be alright?".

Seth smiled "I'd be a nuisance to death now wouldn't I if I cant even handle a bunch of bats and wolves!".With that Cenara flew off.


Seth came back the present after his recollection of past events, and looked around him. Over two thousand Vampires lay lifeless, after Safiria sent them too take the wrong man down.
Seth grinned, and thought to himself "How's this for cant lead the frontline!" With that, he summoned the Airenals Might and armored himself with it. He tensed his mind for a second, and he was flying, faster than anyone would be able to make out.

Next destination, Werewolves second foothold.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part 2: A-TEAM begins its charge


"Fire in the Hole" Segax screamed as a his fiery spell collided with an insurgent group of Vampires.
The Vampire lord leading the charge was embroiled in the flames, but the rest of his troupe managed to avoid them.

One of the vamps exclaimed "Your pathetic spells can't touch all of us at once!"

Segax grinned " Who say's I intended to hit all of you in the first place? "

The vamp hesitated, clearly torn whether to believe it was a bluff or the truth. Yet her decision time was cut short as a blade of pure light hit her squarely on the back. In her final moments, she turned around to see her comrades being ambushed by a group of adventurers.She wailed in disbelief, yet nobody could hear her agony, as her body crumpled into ash, and was blown away by the wind.

"Alright" Madara sighed, "That's about ten more dead vamps. Keeping this pace, we might be able to win this".

"No, we need to increase the pace" Storm spoke. "Even though we apparently have the advantage right now, the numbers of the Werewolves seems to be taking a massive blow as well".

Popinloopy paused, after taking a look around asked Segax "Where's Seth? I haven't seen him in a while..."

Storm sighed "He's currently flying solo, kinda strange if you think about it.. "

"He's fighting both sides I believe" Madara sighed.

The squad were stunned. Even Storm, who's usually quite unperturbed gave a slight sign of surprise.

"Did you know about this" Popin asked Segax.

Segax sighed " Yeah, I kinda suspected it. I'd seen Cenera and Erimus wheeling around Seth's mansion in Deren. They might have something to do with".

"But he was there with us, at Constantine's request" Storm asked.

"To each his own, I guess Storm" Madara sighed.

"How are we doing Popin?" He asked.

Popinloopy took out a small device from his pocket, and clicked a small button top. The device's screen buzzed into life and began showing a few figures.

"What's that?" Segax asked.

"Oh, nothing special" Popin smiled "It analyses the way the war is progressing based on a number of drones monitoring the whole of Darkovia".

"That's pretty handy.. who's ahead?" Storm asked.

"Well, currently it seems that we have the edge. But based on analytics, it seems that Werewolves are going down at a faster rate" Popinloopy ceded.

"That can't be good right?" Segax looked tensed.

"No, almost every Battleonian warmonger we know besides two seem to be piling on the hurt on us!"

Popinloopy spoke, his tone grimm with a sense of fear.

Madara paused, then spoke "So, who are the two?

"Billy and Seth. They're fighting both the vamps and the Weres".

"Arent both of them Werepyres?" Storm asked.

"Yeah, that would explain Erimus's visit. You think the Werepyres are planning to swoop in on us?" Segax spoke.

"No, I highly doubt that" Madara spoke "Wolfwing is peaceful, and Cenara is too. Besides, if they really wanted control Darkovia, there methods would be swift and direct. They wouldn't resort to
guerrilla tactics".

"Even then, they seem to be doing a good job for us" Popin added.

"What do you mean?" Storm asked, his inquisitiveness apparent.

"Both of them are according to the drones, the ones putting the most amount of hurt on the Vampires amongst all Werewolves" Popin grinned.

"We'll that's good enough for us" Madara exclaimed. "Set..Segax, where's our next target?"

Segax concentrated his mana, and expanded his mind radius. Just a few miles ahead, on the southern pass to Victimia, there seemed to be a large concentration of energy, and it wasn't something a Werewolf would emit.

"There's a large concentration of Mana energy in that direction" Segax pointed "It might be a large mob of Vampires for all I can make out!"

"Alright, prepare yourselves. The night has just started!" Popinloopy exclaimed.

"Hate to burst your bubble Popin, but its almost twilight" Storm chuckled.

"Really?" Madara looked at Storm "A twilight joke, now? In the middle of this particular war?"

"YEAAHH!!!" Storm grinned.

A petit smile became etched on Segax's face. It had been a while since he'd had time to act like a regular person. His usual contacts besides his brother, Sophia and family tended to be either Kaley Obsidia or General Herous, both of whom were well known for being social recluses.

He gathered up his mana, and he became covered with a blinding white robe, the robes of a Lumenomancer.

"Guess you're ready to go!" Popin chuckled.

"Yeah he is. Guess tonight we're gonna fight till the breaking dawn!" Madara grinned

"That was horrible..." Popin sighed.

"Yeah" Storm chuckled " Though I just calculated, or rather someone I know did. At the rate this war is going around, it should finish be the New Moon, that's the day after".

"Great, now the order's messed up!" Popin wailed.

"Why do we care anyway?" Madara sighed, and began grumbling about something.
Based on what Segax heard, he could only decipher something about Glitterpyres.


Meanwhile, a few miles east of their location, right at the southern pass towards Victimia. A solitary figure loomed about. Wielding a gigantic axe, he stared around at the pile of Werewolf corpses, and streams of blood flowing, the remains of deceased vampires.

A little boy stood next to the figure, clutching him tightly.

The figure spoke "It's OK l'il guy. Nobody is gonna hurt you or friends from now on!" His tone gentle, and reassuring.

The little boy smiled "Thank you mister! Thanks for saving me!"

The figure patted the boys head gently "You better go on home now, you're in danger if you stay outside!"

With that, the boy scurried into Victimia. The moon came out from the clouds, lighting up the battlefield. The light added a whole new level of detail to the grim site, but the figure seemed replenished.

Seth looked around, admiring his work. He stood silently, breathing in the cold air, and allowing the breeze to refresh him, until a mechanical voice buzzed into his left ear.

<<Four targets incoming>>
<<Six Miles, west>>
<<Power level: Level 9>>


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Chapter 3: Familiarity breeds Strategy


A week after the start of the war....

Seth picked himself up from the ground. He was injured, but it wasn't something he couldn't manage. Just under five minutes ago, he had been ambushed by a pack of Vamp assassins, and one of them had managed to open a wound on his left arm, that had left him unable to hold a shield.
He fought the two Vamps with one fully functioning arm, though it did make landing blows on them very difficult as he couldn't balance the weight of his axe without a shield.

"Give up Abomination... you have no business here!!" One of the vamps roared as she lunged at Seth.

She was unarmed, yet the swirling dark aura that had concentrated on his fists was completely capable of cleaving a persons arm off.

She is attacking head on, but these teams usually distract their prey while the other launches a sucker punch from the shadows, Seth thought to himself.

He closed his eyes and concentrated his hearing. One of the benefits of being a werepyre, aside from looking amazing, was that he could sense the presence of others based on smell and hearing without having to use his mana for energy detection.But from his current position, he could sense a shift of wind speed behind him. Something was coming at him, and coming fast.

"Closing your eyes is it? So you've accept the inevitable" The vamp attacking from the front taunted.

Seth didn't bother, he maintained his concentration. He had only one shot at this, to get it right. Seth waited, any uncalculated movement would end him but if he timed it correctly, he might just get away with it.

Hmm...5 feet....

4 feet...

3 feet...

2 feet...

1 feet...

At that moment, Seth shifted his weight sideways towards his right, and invoked his shadow travel ability. He felt like he had suddenly jumped into a vacuum, without any air, and a proverbial chill. He felt as though his insides were about to freeze over, as part of his brain went into delirium. Yet Seth knew this feeling, it was one of the techniques he learnt under Wallo when he trained as an assassin. A moment later, cold air collided with Seth's face, as he exited the shadow world, and back into Lore.

He opened his eyes, and took a long, deep breath as the air cooled down his brain, once again restoring his sanity. He turned around to see a macabre sight in front of him.
A few feet ahead of him, the two vamps had missed Seth, and inturn stabbed each other with their dark aura jabs.

"Accept the inevitable? For a race thats supposed to be cultured at the very least, you sure do a lot of trash talking.

The vamp shuddered, "You! You will pay for her!" she sneered, and Seth could see her partner had not survived the jab.

"Hey, don't blame me! I'm not the one who tried taking down someone I possibly could not defeat. But I'll let you go..I dont raise my weapons against ladies!" Seth chuckled.

"Then you will DIE!!!" The Vamp roared as she sprung towards Seth, her entire body covered in a dark miasma.

Seth grunted, and his eyes began glowing with a red aura.

"In my line of work, we have a saying" Seth spoke.

He raised his good arm, and stopped the Vamp in her tracks by clutching her throat. The momentum with which she attacked did send him backwards a bit, but he had managed to completely managed to nullify her attack and her aura had completely disappeared. The vamp looked shocked, she was paralysed with fear and there was a genuine fear in her undead eyes.

Seth smirked, "Don't raise more demons than you can bury!"

With that, the vamp spontaneously combusted as Seth concentrated his mana using her as a focus for his spell.

"I said I wont lift my weapon.. doesn't mean I cant cast a spell!" Seth smirked...

"These teenage vamps, they seem to be getting dumber by the dozen" He continued..

He put his right palm over the wound on his left shoulder, and concentrated his mana, creating a healing spell. He limbered his arm, as the effects of the spell repaired his arms tendons.

"And now I'm talking to myself!" He sighed.

I cant have more ambushes like this on me. He thought to himself. With that, he reached for his pocket and pulled out a small cone shaped device with a red button. He placed it in the centre of his palm, and pressed the red button. The cylinder buzzed to life, and levitated out of his palm.

"Initiate command" the drone spoke in a buzzing mechanical voice.

"Olive, I need you to scout the area, seeking heat signatures and telling me the location of every non friendly. Give me the distance, number and power level" Seth ordered.

"Am I clear?" He continued.

"Command accepted. Mission commencing" The drone buzzed, and took off into the night sky.

Seth reached out once again into his pocket, and pulled out a receiver and placed it into his ear.Lets see how this pans out, he thought to himself.

A few moments later, a mechanical voice buzzed in his right ear,

<<Five targets incoming>>
<<100 feet, 10 o clock>>
<<Power level: level>>

Seth summoned his Decimator mech, and activated the Minotaur function. Green energy began flowing through the mechs exterior. He charged towards his left and soon a pack of Werewolves was visible. In order to avoid being seen head on, he used the mech to jump off into the sky and timed his descent right at the centre of the pack. The impact sent the pack sprawling, but the Alpha just jumped away. One of the Werewolf soldiers was knocked out cold, while the other other three shook off the impact and regrouped infront of their alpha.

The Alpha roared, and the three were soldiers hurled their short swords at Seth. The blades were travelling to fast to actually avoid, so Seth decided that his only option was to shield himself.
He managed to place his Chieftain's Ironthorn between him and the trajectory of the blades in time, but the blades dug deep into the shield and pierced slightly into the metal of the Mecha.

"Damn you Weres, you know how hard it is to repair this stuff?!" Seth cursed, yet he couldn't finish as he was knocked off by a swipe of the Alpha's arm.

Seth collided with a tree trunk, which stopped his from landing further away, but it began creaking.

The impact must have weakened off the tree, Seth thought to himself. He looked up to see that his deduction was right. The tree was resting on his mecha, and would fall down if he moved himself away.

The three Werewolf soldiers began marching towards him, and that gave Seth an idea. As the Weres came closer, Seth screamed

"Flame art: Catching FIRE!!"

A dozen or so fireballs launched towards the weres. The Weres kept their line as all the fireballs missed their target.

One of them spoke out " You need to practice your aim better next time, Abomination!"

Seth could see a look of concern on the face of the alpha. It seemed the Alpha had realised Seth's plan, but the soldiers under him didn't have the same sense of tactical understanding.

Guess thats why theyre still soldiers, Seth smirked. "You might wanna take a closer look fellas!"

The soldiers looked at each other, and then studied their surroundings. Seth's Werepyre senses could tell, that the Werewolf soldiers had finally understood their predicament! They were surrounded in a cage of fire, which they couldn't cross without killing themselves along the way, and were now locked under a falling sequoia tree.

"Checkmate wolfies..." Seth smirked, as he pulled himself free. Without the support from Seth's Mecha, the trunk gave way and fell down, crushing the soldiers with it while extinguishing the fire with the gust of wind its motion generated.

The Alpha Were was flabbergasted, but within moments that emotion was changed to fury as it began rushing at Seth.

"Oh no you don't, not this time!" Seth screamed.

"Time to DECIMATE!!" He screamed as the thrusters in the Decimators feet and back flared up, sending him towards the Alpha Were at blinding speed.Seth and the Alpha collided in mid air, and for a moment it felt like the momentums of both sides had cancelled each other out, and both of them were in freefall. However, it didn't last much longer as the Decimator's primary thrusters activated and propelled Seth forward.
Seth powered up the Decimator's fist to max level, and within seconds the Alpha was being drilled backwards, the force of a rocket powered tank operating on the Alpha's chest. The Alphas body collided with the trunks of half a dozen trees, breaking them apart and yet the Alpha still looked conscious.

A mechanical voice buzzed into Seth's ear

<<Foe resists decimation>>
<<Massive boulder ahead>>
<<Chance of survival: Alpha: 0%>>
<<Chance of survival: Admin: 0%>>
<<Next action: Stop Decimation>>

Seth looked up ahead, and saw a gigantic boulder in their trajectory. Realising the Drones message, Seth pull back the a latch, and at once the thrusters stopped and in their place flaps opened up. The Decimator at once, yet the alpha continued to move on with the same momentum, and collided with the boulder. The gigantic boulder heaved with the Alphas momentum, and caved in on itself.

That was close, Seth thought to himself.
He reached for the receiver in his year, and spoke "Thanks Olive, that was close!"

A voice buzzed back,

<<Objective: Save admin: Completed>>


Present day..

"So how do you know Seth? Tenebros asked.

"We're clansmen, one of the few who still exercise their connection to the great clan of fire" Chaotic replied.

"What about you Lord Tenebros? What you're connection, and why has he called you?" Chaotic continued.

"I dont know really.." Tenebros paused. " I guess when a high commander of Battleon requests your presence, you cant really do anything other than accept his invitation..."

"Oh, I see" Chaotic replied.

"So I hear you fight for both sides, is it true?" Tenebros asked.

"That's what I want people to think anyway.." Chaotic smiled.

"What do you mean?" Tenebros asked, clearly puzzled.

"I'm a double agent working with Seth on Wolfwings orders... let's just say we have another motive for warring in this one!" Chaotic smiled.

Meanwhile,

<<Additional mobs moving>>
<<two targets identified>>
<<6 miles, east>>
<<Power level: Level 9>>

Seth smirked, looks like a reunion is in order, he thought to himself.




rater202 -> RE: =AQ= War of the Fangs: Evolution! War Stories and Poems (2/14/2014 9:23:04)

a Poem by a Werewolf, said to the entire Vampire Army for Snugglefest


Batty Birdie will all Die now Today.

The WolfPack hunts them through the Night and The Day.

The Lycan's hunters Truly are the Best.

The Leaches won't live through Snugglefest!




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