* * * * * A night in the nameless forests (Valeana) * * * * *
Crumbled leaves draped over grey dirt, swept in larger piles by some unseen force until stacks of brown and faded greens swamped the base of nearly every pine. Scattered oaks bolstered the forests tenor of vast darkness, reaching high above the spruce and it's surrounding brush. Their branches were like the arms of devils, sucked dry until they began to crack chips of bark down below the canopy it created between sky and earth. What little light crept through the vale of shadow didn't always give much in the way of illumination.
Woodland creatures that mapped their way through the undertow of boulders and roots too large to be pushed by the winds, their sounds like repetitious stamps on old parchment, wayward gusts breaching between the woods until drifting furs and leaflets became all but one. At times, the scent of blood stained the air, and the scurry of something fleeing for it's life was snuffed out with a mere growl or bristling tear of fangs upon hide.
A cold silence chilled the forest for a moment, as it often did, as this said event took place. A week's worth of rain only a day in pausing gave rise to a freshness that bathed briefly in stark copper. The taste chastised the softened beauty of the open world, leaving a pang of loss soon forgotten and hardly witnessed.
There, near some larger open portion of the forest, was the empty ravine that had once glittered fiercely even with the smallest portions of light at it's disposal. Now it harbored only decrepit bones that did not litter the ground beyond it's edge. Deep and wide, it spanned the larger half of the clearing, then curved off between a grove of woodwork to thick to be traveled without some form of axe or machete.
This place had but a single lantern. It hung from a chord of bones, tied further still to a pole that bent itself into the earth long enough that the base bore rust. It was almost always lit by one who came to this place but for few other purposes besides making sure it remained so. At the moment, however, the candle within flickered as it began to dwindle. Water still dripped from it's steely bottom, the faint orange glow dancing wildly in a fever-pitch of spitfire death. Its keeper was nowhere in plain sight, likely not to return until the rains had washed away both blood and bone, pushing them both into the bed of the dried up river.
Within this nameless forest, widespread as it were - surrounded only by distant mountains one could scarcely see without aid - there was no true entrance and no true exit. On occasion, when the throngs of deathly howls or winds gave way to stillness, the bellow of the Reignheart train pushed through the trees; like the few pale flowers the trickled the forest, there was a quaint beauty in it's accompaniment to the requiem that was this place's true nature...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(( I cannot post for Ark until a point of origin is chosen. Please PM me this decision once made. Thank you, and choose wisely! ))
Crumbled leaves draped over grey dirt, swept in larger piles by some unseen force until stacks of brown and faded greens swamped the base of nearly every pine. Scattered oaks bolstered the forests tenor of vast darkness, reaching high above the spruce and it's surrounding brush. Their branches were like the arms of devils, sucked dry until they began to crack chips of bark down below the canopy it created between sky and earth. What little light crept through the vale of shadow didn't always give much in the way of illumination.
Woodland creatures that mapped their way through the undertow of boulders and roots too large to be pushed by the winds, their sounds like repetitious stamps on old parchment, wayward gusts breaching between the woods until drifting furs and leaflets became all but one. At times, the scent of blood stained the air, and the scurry of something fleeing for it's life was snuffed out with a mere growl or bristling tear of fangs upon hide.
A cold silence chilled the forest for a moment, as it often did, as this said event took place. A week's worth of rain only a day in pausing gave rise to a freshness that bathed briefly in stark copper. The taste chastised the softened beauty of the open world, leaving a pang of loss soon forgotten and hardly witnessed.
There, near some larger open portion of the forest, was the empty ravine that had once glittered fiercely even with the smallest portions of light at it's disposal. Now it harbored only decrepit bones that did not litter the ground beyond it's edge. Deep and wide, it spanned the larger half of the clearing, then curved off between a grove of woodwork to thick to be traveled without some form of axe or machete.
This place had but a single lantern. It hung from a chord of bones, tied further still to a pole that bent itself into the earth long enough that the base bore rust. It was almost always lit by one who came to this place but for few other purposes besides making sure it remained so. At the moment, however, the candle within flickered as it began to dwindle. Water still dripped from it's steely bottom, the faint orange glow dancing wildly in a fever-pitch of spitfire death. Its keeper was nowhere in plain sight, likely not to return until the rains had washed away both blood and bone, pushing them both into the bed of the dried up river.
Within this nameless forest, widespread as it were - surrounded only by distant mountains one could scarcely see without aid - there was no true entrance and no true exit. On occasion, when the throngs of deathly howls or winds gave way to stillness, the bellow of the Reignheart train pushed through the trees; like the few pale flowers the trickled the forest, there was a quaint beauty in it's accompaniment to the requiem that was this place's true nature...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(( I cannot post for Ark until a point of origin is chosen. Please PM me this decision once made. Thank you, and choose wisely! ))
(I'm going to raise Valeana's age for this rp. So instead of 60, she is going to be 200 and 60 seemed a bit too young for the plot.)
While the nameless forest may have been foreboding and unwelcoming to many, it was a fine home to one of it's most unusual inhabitants. This inhabitant was a vampiress who had just made a meal out of some unfortunate human who had wandered just a little too close to the forest. However it would only take a single look to realize what was so strange about this particular vampire. She had the wings of a bat growing from her sides and arms. In place of human ears, were the huge ears of a bat. Her limbs had a very fine covering of black fur and her hands had sharp claws. Lastly her feet were somewhat elongated and had vicious talons.
Valeana as she had named herself had lived in the forest for decades and knew it like the back of her own hand. She didn't have very much to do with vampire society with part of the reason being sheer practicality due her appearance. She couldn't go anywhere that had many humans and vampires liked to live in places that were filled with them. The second reason was because she couldn't stand female vampires. Oh she could hold her tongue if she had to, but the whole lot of them disgusted her due to what her sires had done to her.
However she was perfectly happy to live in the forest as she enjoyed the solitude and freedom of it. It had been nearly two centuries, but she still remembered the gilded cage that her human life had been. Valeana had been a noble lady famed for her beauty in her previous life and thus caged for it. Of course hardly anyone would find her lovely now that she was what she was.
While the nameless forest may have been foreboding and unwelcoming to many, it was a fine home to one of it's most unusual inhabitants. This inhabitant was a vampiress who had just made a meal out of some unfortunate human who had wandered just a little too close to the forest. However it would only take a single look to realize what was so strange about this particular vampire. She had the wings of a bat growing from her sides and arms. In place of human ears, were the huge ears of a bat. Her limbs had a very fine covering of black fur and her hands had sharp claws. Lastly her feet were somewhat elongated and had vicious talons.
Valeana as she had named herself had lived in the forest for decades and knew it like the back of her own hand. She didn't have very much to do with vampire society with part of the reason being sheer practicality due her appearance. She couldn't go anywhere that had many humans and vampires liked to live in places that were filled with them. The second reason was because she couldn't stand female vampires. Oh she could hold her tongue if she had to, but the whole lot of them disgusted her due to what her sires had done to her.
However she was perfectly happy to live in the forest as she enjoyed the solitude and freedom of it. It had been nearly two centuries, but she still remembered the gilded cage that her human life had been. Valeana had been a noble lady famed for her beauty in her previous life and thus caged for it. Of course hardly anyone would find her lovely now that she was what she was.
* * * * * A night in the nameless forests (Valeana) * * * * *
Blood ran through the dirt, coursing its way towards the ravine in weaves of crimson allure. Though a place of solitude, the shadows hid all amalgamations of beastly horrors, each of them alone in their own particular way. The branches above waned from time to time, giving life to the moonlight and causing it to bane the darkness with every beam's passing. Critters scurried as yet another lowly human entered their midst and fell victim to the toll for such foolishness. How such a person had arrived was likely to land under any number of reasons and was the concern of neither the hunter or the one to whom the task of keeping the forest clean of such wastes befell.
Life was - after all - like the lantern's light, here in this forsaken cage of wood and stone; it served only those to whom an absence was apparent, and diminished as its purpose was served.
But unlike this light - which cast itself only meekly in its slow passing, it could be easily restored by the very person who now stood before it. There before the growing darkness was one cloaked in sheepish grey wool and brandishing an eye towards the approaching stream of thick red essence staining the ground beneath both feet. Somewhere, not all that far, there was a light now lost that could not be restored.
The hooded figure knelt a moment, placing a pale hand above the silent pool's growth. Even as it began slipping downward into the brittle bones within the ravine, the earth had soaked up most of it for itself. A soft, melancholy sigh breathed outward from a darkened gape at the cloak's fore. It was a cold, hollow sort of act, carrying disdain without any true measure of concern.
Rising gingerly, the somewhat lithe being took to duties that could be attended instantly; working some manner of flint and steel, the lantern sparked back alive. The trees about the clearing took to its glow with a warmth not shared by the breeze that shook their arms and sent leaves crashing to their feet like emerald tears. Through this dance, cloak and robe masking its wearer, the lantern's savior followed the path of blood until both eyes could place the blood's origin with ease.
No sounds accompanied the steps; this was a forest known to the feet that now trekked its surface (so well in fact that even without apparent attempt not a single twig or leaflet took to breaking as the march ensued). And it was, in fact, a march. Hands at first appearing pale now showed with garnered aid of spreading light gloved digits held firmly at the sides of a being that knew well every path and what it expected to find at every end.
There was no attempt at concealment - despite the measure of ghastly gait and sharpened steps. Some form of creature had a scent that was at once noticeable to the lantern's caretaker, and a soft sniff of the air cast the smell to memory as though inscribing it with ink into a curious mind made of starch papyrus suited for no other purpose.
"You're too close to the ravine," was the only words spoken by a voice at once crisply male and perhaps imbued with a youthful ambiance. It carried loud enough to startle an owl high behind from it's perch, brawny wings bullying the air as it vanished upward beyond the canopy of pine needles.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Blood ran through the dirt, coursing its way towards the ravine in weaves of crimson allure. Though a place of solitude, the shadows hid all amalgamations of beastly horrors, each of them alone in their own particular way. The branches above waned from time to time, giving life to the moonlight and causing it to bane the darkness with every beam's passing. Critters scurried as yet another lowly human entered their midst and fell victim to the toll for such foolishness. How such a person had arrived was likely to land under any number of reasons and was the concern of neither the hunter or the one to whom the task of keeping the forest clean of such wastes befell.
Life was - after all - like the lantern's light, here in this forsaken cage of wood and stone; it served only those to whom an absence was apparent, and diminished as its purpose was served.
But unlike this light - which cast itself only meekly in its slow passing, it could be easily restored by the very person who now stood before it. There before the growing darkness was one cloaked in sheepish grey wool and brandishing an eye towards the approaching stream of thick red essence staining the ground beneath both feet. Somewhere, not all that far, there was a light now lost that could not be restored.
The hooded figure knelt a moment, placing a pale hand above the silent pool's growth. Even as it began slipping downward into the brittle bones within the ravine, the earth had soaked up most of it for itself. A soft, melancholy sigh breathed outward from a darkened gape at the cloak's fore. It was a cold, hollow sort of act, carrying disdain without any true measure of concern.
Rising gingerly, the somewhat lithe being took to duties that could be attended instantly; working some manner of flint and steel, the lantern sparked back alive. The trees about the clearing took to its glow with a warmth not shared by the breeze that shook their arms and sent leaves crashing to their feet like emerald tears. Through this dance, cloak and robe masking its wearer, the lantern's savior followed the path of blood until both eyes could place the blood's origin with ease.
No sounds accompanied the steps; this was a forest known to the feet that now trekked its surface (so well in fact that even without apparent attempt not a single twig or leaflet took to breaking as the march ensued). And it was, in fact, a march. Hands at first appearing pale now showed with garnered aid of spreading light gloved digits held firmly at the sides of a being that knew well every path and what it expected to find at every end.
There was no attempt at concealment - despite the measure of ghastly gait and sharpened steps. Some form of creature had a scent that was at once noticeable to the lantern's caretaker, and a soft sniff of the air cast the smell to memory as though inscribing it with ink into a curious mind made of starch papyrus suited for no other purpose.
"You're too close to the ravine," was the only words spoken by a voice at once crisply male and perhaps imbued with a youthful ambiance. It carried loud enough to startle an owl high behind from it's perch, brawny wings bullying the air as it vanished upward beyond the canopy of pine needles.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Valeana was normally a tidy eater, but she had been ravenously hungry, almost to the point where she would have made do with animal blood. Normally she would have ventured out of the forest just long enough to find a meal before returning, but lately she had been having a bad feeling about doing so. She chose to heed this warning as her instincts had grown rather sharp over the years. Yet now that a human had so willingly wandered into her territory, she hadn't been able to control herself.
Yet at the sound of the warning, she would recover her senses enough to recognize that she had more she needed to do before she could continue to feed. First she made a wide, but shallow hole in the ground to collect the flowing blood before it could travel to the ravine. Then the vampire would start carrying the body off in the opposite direction of the ravine and wouldn't finish draining her victim dry until she had gone a reasonable. She didn't know why it was bad for blood to gather in the ravine, but wasn't the type to dismiss such things without good reason. It was the wary that got to live a long life, not the fool hardy after all.
Yet at the sound of the warning, she would recover her senses enough to recognize that she had more she needed to do before she could continue to feed. First she made a wide, but shallow hole in the ground to collect the flowing blood before it could travel to the ravine. Then the vampire would start carrying the body off in the opposite direction of the ravine and wouldn't finish draining her victim dry until she had gone a reasonable. She didn't know why it was bad for blood to gather in the ravine, but wasn't the type to dismiss such things without good reason. It was the wary that got to live a long life, not the fool hardy after all.
The stranger had taken an interest in the savagery afoot in what he thought of as his forest. And in some regard, his view of this was not without legality; for some few hundred years of the Lord Noel's inheritance of the nearby estate, all manor of deathly creatures had taken refuge within the surrounding lands, and before the trees and roots had sunken in too deep to be easily removed... he had roamed these lands as keeper of the darkness, it's natural bane.
He watched her actions very carefully, his face in shadow.
This creature before him was something unholy. A tactile mash of vampire and something else. Something primal, nearly. Yet, it possessed thought, and lived within these very woods as though it belonged here. It fed here, and took his statement as request without preamble or confusion. A devious sort of calm befell the air between them, and he took following behind at every step. His grey cloak and hood drafted in the wind, the smell of poppies and dry bark waving over the forest. The soft crunch of leaves strode beneath his gliding steps.
He was only slightly smaller than the womanly beast, and her form took to the night with synergy as she took her kill further still into the blackened depths.
"The lantern nearly died at your kill," he began from a few yards behind, giving himself enough room to make a hasty exit should it be required, "That is unusual, these days. In fact, only a select few bloodlines can rattle its light, and fewer still of those bloodline capable of igniting or quenching its life all together."
His eyes fell to the corpse in lieu and then it's caretaker.
"All the nobles are to attend The Summons," whispered the lantern's watchman. The voice was almost metallic and cold, as though it lacked the ability to craft emotion and was reading from a set of notes. "Yet, the blood you spilled is clearly not noble, nor a vampire's own. The lantern then responded to the hunter, not the hunted..."
He examined her with calculating eyes, cautious yet unafraid. "You are not like any noble I've seen these few centuries, however. No, you are more like... some of those cast beyond the Ferryman's door..." He paused, stopping abruptly. Mentally, he wondered if what stood before him should be allowed to simply roam these forests, when the matter of the nearby nobleman was so freshly at a boil.
Of noble birth or no, she was clearly some manner of vampire. And the lantern had taken notice. With the coming of the Summons and the disappearance of the Lord Noel Advendarde, this creature's appearance held some significance. The question was... did he even want to get involved...? What exactly was her purpose here, and to whom did she claim allegiance?
With a strange rumble in his mind, he realized that it had been too long since someone had caused him such curiosities.
He watched her actions very carefully, his face in shadow.
This creature before him was something unholy. A tactile mash of vampire and something else. Something primal, nearly. Yet, it possessed thought, and lived within these very woods as though it belonged here. It fed here, and took his statement as request without preamble or confusion. A devious sort of calm befell the air between them, and he took following behind at every step. His grey cloak and hood drafted in the wind, the smell of poppies and dry bark waving over the forest. The soft crunch of leaves strode beneath his gliding steps.
He was only slightly smaller than the womanly beast, and her form took to the night with synergy as she took her kill further still into the blackened depths.
"The lantern nearly died at your kill," he began from a few yards behind, giving himself enough room to make a hasty exit should it be required, "That is unusual, these days. In fact, only a select few bloodlines can rattle its light, and fewer still of those bloodline capable of igniting or quenching its life all together."
His eyes fell to the corpse in lieu and then it's caretaker.
"All the nobles are to attend The Summons," whispered the lantern's watchman. The voice was almost metallic and cold, as though it lacked the ability to craft emotion and was reading from a set of notes. "Yet, the blood you spilled is clearly not noble, nor a vampire's own. The lantern then responded to the hunter, not the hunted..."
He examined her with calculating eyes, cautious yet unafraid. "You are not like any noble I've seen these few centuries, however. No, you are more like... some of those cast beyond the Ferryman's door..." He paused, stopping abruptly. Mentally, he wondered if what stood before him should be allowed to simply roam these forests, when the matter of the nearby nobleman was so freshly at a boil.
Of noble birth or no, she was clearly some manner of vampire. And the lantern had taken notice. With the coming of the Summons and the disappearance of the Lord Noel Advendarde, this creature's appearance held some significance. The question was... did he even want to get involved...? What exactly was her purpose here, and to whom did she claim allegiance?
With a strange rumble in his mind, he realized that it had been too long since someone had caused him such curiosities.
(Is this a private RP?)
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