Drogo Marcel Cadegon

Biographical

• Biography

  I have lived for centuries.
  
  The manifestation of the blood disease which Tobias Zachariah Morgan was born with was not inherently obvious for much of his early life, mostly owing to the fact that there were no medical procedures and tests which could be run to properly diagnose the condition which ailed the child. His skin blistered in the sunlight if he were in its rays for more than a few seconds at a time, and the brightness of solar lamps was enough to momentarily blind him. His parents tried everything they possibly could in a bid to save their only son from his ails, but the Doctors parading through their household with various pills, potions and other suggestions to aid the child all came up with nothing. The medical community was stunned, and as the child grew in age his body began to grow at an alarming rate. By the time Zachariah was ten, he was more akin to a boy of fifteen or sixteen; an accusation Witchcraft was thrown around more than once, with some of the more narrow-minded individuals in the community believing the child had been cursed as recompense for his Mother being a Witch. She wasn't; she was just a regular woman. But the rumor was enough to make people turn on the family, an unfortunate time of prejudice was upon them and people cared little for the truth back then.
  
  Zachariah has harbored a hatred for Humans since that day. Seeing how readily they forcibly dropped his Mother into the icy cold river in the middle of winter and watched her struggling until she struggled no more, using her death as evidence she wasn't a Witch. It was more inhumane than he could contemplate, and the traumatic event was the catalyst needed to truly trigger the darkness he had been born with. It wasn't until Zachariah was fifteen that he discovered he had been born with the true blood of a Vampyr; a disease he contracted when still in the womb after his Mother was fed from by Leeches which had recently fed from a Vampire. Zachariah never questioned the explanation, and he never bothered explaining it to anyone else. He had more important things to consider, such as exacting revenge upon the ones who had murdered his Mother. His first kill at the age of sixteen was perhaps the most satisfying and thrilling thing he had ever experienced in his life; to know he possessed such power, such strength, was a delicious rush, unlike anything he had known possible. Like many before him, Drogo became addicted to the rush of ending someone's life, the thrill of being the one deciding if someone lived or died. For centuries, he killed indiscriminately whenever and wherever the mood took him.
  
  The mood led him to a traveling Caravan, which provided him with some of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. But none more so than the Diviner and Seer, Divina. She was magnificent, breathtaking almost. If he had breath to be taken, anyway. Zachariah, renaming himself Drogo Marcel Cadegon, requested that the young beauty read his future for him. One look from her brilliant brown eyes and he was spellbound, he had to have her. Possess her, claim her, own her body and soul. More than once Drogo visited the Caravan, having Divina read his future and watching their festivals from the edge of the boundaries as Divina danced, seduced him without even knowing he was present. Every day, every month, every year brought him one step closer to attaining what was his. And she would be his, even with the intervention of that little fucking pest, Tobias.
  
  Drogo finally made his move and took his chances with Divina years after he had first met her. Tracking her Caravan wherever they went, he was beginning to grow more and more frustrated that his prize was always just out of his reach. Almost as if the little bitch had seen him coming; of course she had. She was a damned seer. Drogo wanted Divina to know he was coming for her, and he did it in the best way he knew how: by leaving a body count in each city her Caravan left, each one higher than the next until they were shunned by many settlements. Death seemed to follow in their wake, and nobody wanted to be the next one to turn up dead when the Caravan moved on.
  
  Luck smiled upon the damned creature when the Caravan remained in one spot for longer than their usual time frame. Divina's mother had taken ill; what a pity for the poor child. But what fortune for Drogo, finally he had his little treasure within his grasp. And all he had to do to get her, was murder her Mother. A small price to pay, really. He wouldn't have cared if he'd had to kill every last person in the Caravan to get to Divina, and he would have been more than happy to if she didn't comply with his demands. What a good girl she turned out to be, agreeing to leave with him if he promised no more harm to the rest of the troupe. He had what he came for; he spared their lives in return. Turning Divina was perhaps his greatest achievement, forcing her intake of his blood into her system and then keeping her chained to the wall while he sat by and watched the transformation tearing through her body, listening to her cries of agony like it were the greatest music ever written.
  
  Drogo continued his rampage of destruction with great relish, ensuring Divina witnessed every single thing he did. Killing innocent people, turning legions of souls into his own army of the damned, and stealing away the virtue of many a beautiful girl while forcing Divina to take what she needed from their bodies in order to survive. She fed only on his instruction, and should she choose to try and feed without his permission or, gods forbid from a man, he would punish her without hesitation. She would be broken into his perfect slave, even if he had to bring her to the brink of death and back again before she complied with his demands and whims. But the greatest betrayal was yet to come, and it was one Drogo would not be able to forgive.
  
  Divina stole Drogo's daylight ring so she could return to her Caravan to visit her lost love one last time. Drogo's rage grew until it knew no bounds. The moment Divina entered the mansion he was upon her, dragging his beautiful creation by her hair down into the basement where he bound her to the stone table and left her for three days. Not once did he speak to her, nor even acknowledge her existence. Once her yells and pleas to be freed, her sobs of apology dwindled into a quiet whimper, only then did Drogo lower himself to return to the basement. Quietly he informed Divina of his displeasure at her actions, nodding his way through her whimpered apologies before informing her that she belonged to him, but was apparently still unaware of this fact. Without any emotion coloring his features, Drogo blinded his Slave with the tip of a knife, severing her optic nerves completely but leaving her eyes otherwise intact. They were such a lovely color, he couldn't bear to let them go entirely. With a tender kiss to his pet, Drogo promised Divina that she would suffer much worse than the loss of her sight if she ever abandoned him again.
  
  Which she did. WIP please check back later.
  
  And I will live for many more. Will you?

• Connections

  Kyrie Bellamy Almawyt
  + Submissive.
  + Favourite Toy.
  + Deems them to be his property.
  + His. Just His.
  
  Salem Almawyt
  + Kyrie's Twin.
  + Considers them to be a useful connection.