[WHFRP 2nd Ed] Reign in Blood (IC I)

[BananaPhone]

Reign in Blood
Act 1: Shadows of Decay

I can remember my former life, but I cannot feel it. I know it ended in an evening of drunken revelry and a vain struggle to direct my own destiny. Foolish as I was, I believed I could cast off the hand of fate by hurling myself from a belltower and denying the lords of the night their prize. Parts of it I still recall. The velocity of the plunge tore at every sense I possessed, evoking an animal panic within me as my soul was plucked from my body at the moment of impact, as all was ended in a black shroud. But where had I then traveled? I punctured through the glass-pane that separates life and death, my mind and spirit detaching from my body and only the former returning, tainted by the touch of the void that lay beyond. Yanked back from the vacuum and forced into the skull of my reanimated form, a tide of pain was all I knew for days as my psyche was boiled and seeped across the nerves of this new, unchanging mimicry of flesh and bone. Forever merged as one, I would march forward into eternity, lest starvation, spell or blade end my existence. It left me searingly awake. And more revoltingly - alive.


Regine Von Carstein


Her eyes opened. The song of a gentle night sky rolled in through an open window, framed with thick, red velvet drapes. The ceiling was furnished, wooden and beautiful. The bed, as she sat up, was fostered with crimson silk that was soft against her now pale skin. In times past she might have gasped, but no such fear or astonishment remained within her. The former thief peered curiously at both of her hands that she held out before her, the skin smooth but almost white as snow, her fingernails now sharp, black claws.

"Mon lapin is finally conscious..." a feminine, excited voice came from the other side of the room. Regine looked up to face it, her gaze taking in the plush finery of an aristocratic bedroom, with thick carpet, blood-red silks, gold ornamentations and furniture of rich mahogany, and upon one such seat was positioned the source of that voice - her.

"I remember you..." Regine stammered, not afraid, but uncertain, as that figure stood up from her position and almost floated into the light of the candles. The warm illumination hugged her well-dressed figure, the court dress she wore bulging out at her waist to create an graceful bulb of black, red and silvers that drew up into her trim frame and shoulders, atop which was the smiling, angular face of a woman who could not be Regine's senior by more than five years. At least when she was alive.

"You're the one who..."

"Oh mon lapin, I wanted something far more cordial, cheri," she spoke again, those honeyed words sliding gracefully from that smiling mouth as she floated closer to the bedside. Reaching forward with an elegantly gloved hand, the woman gently ran the back of her fingers across Regine's cheek, and the thief observed how cool her touch was. Not warm. Not cold. But just there.

"I always wanted a daughter - and here you are! Oh my little one, welcome, welcome! There is so much I would have you know, but first you must tell me: are you hungry, mon lapin?"

Hunger? For food or water? Regine felt her innards almost shift at the very idea, as the cuisine of mortals no longer held any appeal. A full roast with golden potatoes, beef and red wine stew and mead could be before her, yet her greedy eyes would instead move upwards to the chef. Looking up at the other woman, Regine slowly shook her head.

This please her, as her laughter was soft, like a giggle. "Oh mon cheri, I would hope not! When I returned you here you had only the faintest hint of life within you. Tsk tsk tsk," she clucked her tongue through an amused smile, drawing her right index finger up to sway it from side to side disapprovingly. "I nurtured it. Cultivated it. I am the mother of your rebirth, little one, and you my childe - I could not have your time end so quickly, non non, it would not be right. Imagine my pride as I watched you recover - my daughter would live! I took you down beneath the earth of our fortress. My my, cheri, what a hungry babe you were! Hehehe," once again, her giggling mouth and staring eyes.

"Any mother who loves their child; the first time their infant suckles upon their breast, they feel love, a love of being and a love of effort and a gratitude for holding life in their arms that they created. To nurture it. To guide it. Watch it grow. Mmm. Mon lapin, you almost cleared out our remaining stock from the jail! It was beautiful to watch."

Regine listened and found herself odd in a way. There was no burst of empathy, no deep seated horror stirring within her or shame - she felt nothing. No pity. No remorse.

The woman stood back up.

"But where are my manners? I am Camile Von Carstein," she curtsied, always with that smile, "But please, call me Maman. Do you remember your name?"

The former thief thought for a second, dredging that little bit of identity up from her living memories.

"Regine."

"And do you know your nature?"

Regine flexed her fingers and looked at her claws. She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, over the two sharp incisors jutting down from the top row.

"Of course."

[bramblefoot]

Maman will lead regine past a row of battlements to a long table where three other vampires sit. on the table sits a sword, spear, and bow, along with some other trinkets. an old battered brass sea compass sits on the table along with a small jewelers loupe. also sitting there is a small wind-up clockwork spider.

camile will lead regine to the table, and point her to the trinkets "pick one. It's a goodwill token from us to you. all have their uses, but youll have to figure out what they do" she leans in "look but do not touch"

wdyd

[BananaPhone]

Regine Von Carstein

Camile assisted the newly risen vampire with everything once she departed the fine silks of her new, large, plush bed. It was a opulence that the thief could only once have dreamed. Regine bathed, able to withstand submersion in the warm waters prepared by the servants. Her 'mother' helped her dress, as no mirror would now cast her reflection. The clothing was well-made and of visible quality with her black, leather riding boots fitting with particularly snug comfort. But what particularly enchanted Regine was one of her new cloaks; a beautiful, blood-red woolen cloak with lanolin in the weave to render it waterproof in case she was caught in a storm. To call it fetching was an understatement, as she could only imagine its contrast with her fair skin and black hair and clothes underneath. Her vampiric mother, doting and reassuring, giggled and clapped gently at the sight, reassuring her what a "Très belle!" her little rabbit was.

Taken out across the battlements of the keep, Regine inhaled gently as the soft night air fully kissed the skin of her face; her eyes casting across the deep, blue fjord adjacent to the castle that ran between the beautiful tree-covered mountains resting peaceful beneath the silvery moonlight. It was a scene the vampire wanted to stop and savor, to stand in the crenels of her new home and peer out into an untouched ravine flanked by vegetated crags. Was this her new experience? Every sense she possessed was magnified compared to her living self; her eyes were like binoculars, her hearing superb and vigilant. Even the taste-buds across her tongue could siphon through the myriad flavours on the wind that crawled up from the sapphire surface of the wide running river below.

But Camile, Maman, would not dither.

"Come along!" she spoke happily over her shoulder, leading Regine back into a tower of the keep and down a flight of unlit stairs until they opened into what looked like a war-room. The room is bathed in a dim, flickering light cast by torches mounted on the stone walls, casting long shadows that dance across the stone tiled floors. At the center of the room stands a massive table, hewn from dark wood and polished to a glossy sheen, its surface covered with a large map of the surrounding area of Seigneurie de Bellecombe, marked with the six towns, one fortress-town, a castle and Forteresse von Carstein, their current location, in the top North-West, nestled within an enclave of mountains.

Along the walls, shelves are lined with ancient tomes, scrolls, and ornate tapestries decorating the walls, each carrying etched scenes of conquest, battle, and victory, their rich colors and intricate designs adding to the room's atmosphere of power and authority. Another, the largest, displayed a heraldry: a snarling, silver wolfs head upon a sable field with a crimson saltire beneath it.

In one corner of the room, a stone fireplace crackles with flames, its warmth providing a stark contrast to the cool, damp air of the castle's interior. Above the mantle hangs the head of a wyvren, its hideous head snarling in its death-throes and doubtless the creature to whom it belonged a long-since vanquished foe, forced to now stand in silent vigil to whatever preparations were being made by the vampires who likely slew it.

But, it was the three figures around the central table that silently demanded Regine's attention the most. The central figure was old, though no less fierce in appearance, his shortly styled silver hair and beat beard framing a face from which stared two intimidating eyes that gleamed with an inspecting intelligence. He was not a small man either, as he easily stood at an estimate six and three or six and three inches, his broad shoulders dressed in practical but clearly expensive dark clothing. To his right was an even taller, but much younger man; six and a half feet, if Regine had to guess, with a deep chest and arms flanking a V-shaped torso that was fighting trim, a helm of lengthy black hair drawn back into a loose ponytail behind a handsome, pale face. To the left was a less physically imposing male, a crest of white hair styled meticulously above features that were, if Regine had to describe them, would be boyish good looks, a slight smirk upon them as if he knew the answer to a joke only he was in on.

Should she bow? Should she curtsey? Should she look each in the eye and tell them it was about time? There was a time when three such figures would have evoked nothing but unease, perhaps terror, within her, like three wolves circling a lamb. But now? Now she felt more uncertain than fearful. Nevertheless, a deepseated animal instinct within the former thief cautioned her to be wary in recognition of being in the presence of figures more powerful than she, and thus, higher up in the food chain.

"pick one. It's a goodwill token from us to you. all have their uses, but youll have to figure out what they do" she leans in "look but do not touch"

It was now that the vampire noticed the array of weapons on the table, as well as the trinkets. Curious little items - but it was the compass that drew Regine's attention the most. After all, if one was lost in the world, they could never find their way home.

Suddenly the centre of attention before three blood-drinking vampires who regarded her with silent scrutiny, Regine held the lining of her lovely new cape in both hands and bent her knee's in a curtsy.

"My lords, I greet you."

A touch of the supplicant. But, Regine made sure to look them in their eyes as she said it, rather than away or at the floor. She was newly greeting, polite, uncertain, but they had not brought a groveling worm into the family.

Camile's warning was clear, however: look, but do not touch. Don't be a greedy little child and rush forward to seize a prize. One asked first.

"Thank you for inclusion; if I may, I request the compass."

[bramblefoot]

camille smiles, and will pass you the compass. "it's an interesting trinket" opening up the small compass, youd see the needle spin wildly, before settling on something in the room. tell me what it settles on, and what camiles response is.

meanwhile, the big vampire will merely watch, twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly. the bookish vamp will smile, and offer a small wave "its good to have another interesting companion" he says, before the patriarch lets out a cough. "alright, settle down. please everyone give the condensed opening to our newest creature of the night"

[BananaPhone]

Regine Von Carstein

Regine received the compass and watched as it's front was opened for her to behold the spinning needle within. When Camile's physical influence left it, the device's interfaced ceased swirling, at least for a moment, before the pointer slowly turned towards the adjacent walls upon which displayed the bookcases full of scrolls, books, small trophey's and the tapestries that visually told a story stretching back centuries, perhaps even millennia.

Maman smirked as she loomed next to Regine.

"Knowledge? Discovery? Remembrance perhaps?" she piques a lopsided smile.

"alright, settle down. please everyone give the condensed opening to our newest creature of the night"

Almost immediately, the others took their seats - and Regine quickly followed suit. Scooping her lovely new cape up behind her, she planted her rump upon the cushioned chair and overlooked the map before them.

"We had planned something more hospitable for your debut, niece," the tall, dark-haired male said, his voice like silken thunder as he gave a little seated bow. He spoke with a clear foreign accent - the Empire? Bretonnian was not his native language, nor was it that of the bookish vampire, of that Regine was certain.

"I am Wulf Von Carstein, this is Ulrich," he gestured to the bookish one, who gave a slightly more flamboyant bow.

"And, the father of us all, Count Heinrich Von Carstein."

There was little wonder to whom he was referring, as the older looking man managed to both sit upright but slightly lounged back in his chair, eyes fixed on the new arrival.

"...but, due to your initial...theatrics, before inclusion into our family, our prison did not have the herd necessary to both satiate and celebrate you. Your admission to your family is a joyous occasion, one that requires a beautiful festivity. But one we believed had slightly more time in which to prepare." Wulf spoke.

"The herd can be replenished, we just need a few nights to ensure the drag-net doesn't take in anyone who'll have relatives that come looking for them!" the bookish one grinned.

Like me? the former thief thought to herself.

"My brother is correct and the point is not lost, I hope," Wulf reasserted himself with firm politeness, gesturing towards the map with a black steel-armored gloved hand.

"This is not Sylvania. We have operated from here for almost two decades without detection, and our time in this keep will soon be coming to an end. The mortals do not fear a still lake, my niece."

"We ensure that our region of the mountains gives them no reason to venture into the woods. Would-be bandits or criminals quickly discover that the role of unseen menace has already been filled!" the bookish one smiled again, almost as if he were about to laugh.

"With Mousillon absorbing most of the attention, we are free to remain undetected, if we leave no footprints, mon lapin," Camile chimed in to Regine's side.

"Do not attract attention. Our, and now your, servants are to obey you, but not with their blood. You were selected because our reliable sources claim you to be a woman of discretion. Extend that secrecy into our family and prove our decision a prudent one, niece," Wulf informed.

"Is that understood?"

Regine took it all in. This was her reality now. Just a few days ago - had it only been a few days? - she had been sitting around a table drinking with Bertelis, Wighard, Grimgoth, Jasmine, Bruno...where were they now?

"Yes, your Lor - " she cut herself off as Wulf perked an eyebrow. They all seemed to pique interest.

"Yes, uncle."

Though Regine could not see it, she could tell that beside her, Camile smiled.

"Good. Camile and I will be the ones primarily responsible for fostering and imparting the required principles and traditions of our lineage and nature. There are almost thirty million people inhabiting the Kingdom of Bretonnia, and out of that number you, and you alone, have been chosen to ascend into a position of prominence, my niece, one that reigns above even the highest Royarch or Emperor of the Old World, of which you will see many come and many go. Of all the denizens of this continent only a few hundred carry aloft the banners of the name Von Carstein, and you are the newest such initiate. You have been granted eternal youth and membership into one of the worlds most powerful family's. Do not spend it unwisely."

The pause hung in the air as Regine absorbed the words, the full breadth of the gravity settling upon her mind that was not even more than twenty years in being. Eternity...

"There are tasks to be done, Regine," Wulf stated, drawing his black-steel gloved hand over the map of the region, "but for now, your education beneath Camile and I, begins."

[bramblefoot]

alright, so gimme a montage of your training (call it a week) your welcome to learn from books, or talk to the servants or the other vamps. just gimme a day to day thing of what you wanna do

wulf is available for swordplay early monday and wednesday nights. He also will teach strategy and command presence on sunday with some of the retainers

ulrich has a small observation tower with custom glass lenses brought with him from the empire. He invites you Tuesday night for an interesting celestial phenomena should you be interested. Hes also testing a modified organ gun on saturday. ulrich also will show off his black powder marksman skills on Thursday

camile will be available tuesday night for you to learn the beginnings of the von carstein cipher. she'll also teach the basics of makeup to hide sallow skin when not in vampiric company Sunday

Heinrich is available Thursday and Friday for a brief vampiric history lesson about the von carsteins. Hes likely to provide anecdotes of his life through the centuries hes lives (you have to take both lessons. Heinrich does not like people who cut classes)

regine is welcome to do some, all or none of these.

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Spoiler: With Wulf

Show

Swords clattered and rang in the courtyard of the restored castle, the inner stone walls absorbing the sounds of metal-against-metal and bearing witness to the teacher and student. In one corner, Wulf, towering and imposing, his size belied the speed and skill with which he moved, like some dark serpent that coiled its body out of harms way with graceful ease before striking with his sword-carrying hand.

In the other, was Regine. Though a thief by trade, she knew the rudiments of swordplay, as evidence by her parries and footwork. Though clearly the inferior combatant, the breadth between them was not so great that she were a helpless child.

“Your style is eclectic,” Wulf commented, circling slowly to the side, eyes on his opponent, sword at his side and pointing to the ground as if daring Regine to try her luck.

“Who taught you?”

“Lots of different people…” Regine replied, stepping forward and making her first thrust at his shoulder – sidestepped. Having predicted that, her dagger-wielding hand was waiting with a stab, but this too was evaded with comical ease by the towering vampiric fighter before her.

“I can tell…” he smiled, moving backwards, his sword still pointing down.

“This makes you unpredictable and dangerous to most. But to one trained and schooled for years? A proper knight? Or veteran footman?” that smile again, “there are reasons, my niece, why none of the greatest fighters known have mastered the way of the random!”

Regine stalked forward again, her blade coming out in a swipe towards Wulf’s legs. Since her transformation, the vampires felt lighter on her feet, the world seemed to carry less weight as she could move with a quickness not even she could have matched in her best living days. But again, she was frustrated, her swipe and feint was seen through by her vampiric ‘uncle’, whose centuries of experience had honed him into something she never wanted to face for real. He simply stepped backwards, turned himself half about and grabbed Regine by the arm. Using her momentum against her before she could react, he had spun around and brought his blade about in an arc and the vampiress suddenly stumbled forward with the cold kiss of steel in her.

Drawing in breath out of reflex, Regine looked down at her chest to see a foot of bladed steel protruding through her stomach, its sheen only marginally polished red from her own humours.

Stunned, staring, eyes open, the vampires felt a slight panic gnawing at her nerves, and were she still alive she would have screamed out and collapsed. But instead…she stood there, astonished, her mouth in a rictus of horror and gaze locked on the weapon.

Wulf approached from behind, hand around the hilt and unceremoniously yanked it free. The pain was hot and harsh, but Regine kept it in as she merely gasped and staggered forward another step. Once more, still-present muscle memory made her breathe and inhale, swallowing and gulping nearly useless air as she watched that red slit across her flat belly begin to stich itself back together and close over in only a matter of seconds.

“Ah, wunderbar…” Wulf’s words drifted to her as he circled around to her front, using the tip of his sword to hold aside her clothing and witness the rapid rehabilitation of her wound.

“We are not all the same in our…capabilities. We can all heal almost any injury, but you are far more expedient in doing so. Do you know what that means?”

Her ‘breathing’ under control, her panic subsiding, Regine felt her animal panic rescinding and returning back into the seat of her soul where it belonged.

“I’m lucky?”

Wulf snickered, “Very, meine nichte…it means I don’t have to go easy on you!”

His dark laughter filled Regine’s ears, the morose humor pulling at her own mirth until she smirked in bashful acceptance and laughed along.

Retaining that amused smirk as he strode over to the weapons rack in the courtyard, the vampire knight ran his gloved hand along a variety of shelved weapons.

“You are tall for a girl, meine nichte. Well, you’re tall in general. What are you? One eighty?”

“One seventy eight centimeters, last I checked.”

“You’re taller than most men, this gives you reach. Camile informed me of her observations: you are quite the gymnast, ja? Jumping and tumbling about. Your physique too, quick, strong, lower centre of gravity from a womans hips. I can educate you on a variety of weapons, meine nichte,” he continued, walking along the rack of available implements, “but I fear the man who has practiced a sword stab ten thousand times more than I do the man who practices a stab once with ten thousand different weapons; practice and perfection. Know your weapon, make it an extension of yourself. You could be an excellent swordswoman, mein nichte, but I think this would suit you well under optimal circumstances…” he stopped at a long, oaken-looking pole, approximately a foot of sharp, bladed steel affixed to the stop. Wrapping his hand around it, he turned and tossed it to the vampires, who caught it with ease.

“A spear?”

“Ja, meine nichte, a spear!”

“Aren’t these used in formation? I’m not an infantryman.”

“Pay attention, young one; optimal circumstances. When you were plying your trade through thievery, would you use a sword when a dagger would do?”

Regine pursed her lips as she felt the weight of the weapon in her hands, spinning it around a few times, watching the dark circle created by its beam and the silvery outlier of its steel. Conceding the point, the vampires shrugged.

“Of course not. There are times when the sword will be better. Other times, the dagger. Other times…” he gestured to the weapon in her hand, before drawing himself back up into the beginning of another spar.

Gripping the spear with both hands, Regine pointed the bladed end towards her uncle, and immediately noticed why he was smiling – the reach.

“Hullo over there!” Wulf snickered, the distance between them now almost nine or so feet apart.

Then he moved forward, sword coming up to strike – but Regine moved back, steel-tip still pointing at her uncle. The extra distance bought her the precious milliseconds to recognize and react. Had she been armed wither sword, he would have had her.

Wulf smiled.

He did it again, the opposite side this time, but once more, Regine was able to dart backwards, the steel-blade of her spear menacing Wulf’s neck and face region.

“See the options now available to you, meine nichte, by simply holding a pointy stick?”

High above, peering through one of the windows of the castle, Camile watched, smirking.

Spoiler: With Camile

Show

“How does it taste, my little rabbit?” Camile asked, watching Regine with a keen interest.

The former thief drank deep and low, the warm, sweet, red nectar of blood running down her throat from the wine glass she held to her lips. Gasping gently as she lowered the goblet, Regine breathed deeply, her mouth stained with the crimson of her new food, her reddened eyes open and dilating from the sensation, as all she could do to answer was moan softly as if touched by a lover.

“Hehehe, magnifique, isn’t it, mon lapin? This vintage is derived from particularly good cattle. He was a minor noble, exiled or some such, taken to banditry in our mountains…”

Camile’s smile took on a more sinister arc, as she clucked her lips in a soft tsk, tsk tsk!

“His gaggle of followers got away, but Wulf brought him back last night to help replenish our herd in the jail. We will be ensuring to feed him well; we simply must retain the flavour! Luck has smiled on us twice in a week – once to deliver you, and again to deliver this delicious supply!”

“Do we…I mean, they,” Regine asked, quickly correcting her mistake, “all taste like this...nice?”

Her dark mother shook her head, “Non, childe. What they themselves consume, their environment, their stress, their health. These and more all contribute to the flavour. For our cuisine we can add spices or gelatin; but when taken straight from the source? Mmmm, my childe, you will learn in time,” before she leaned forward to whisper, “few things are as satisfying.”

Mother and daughter were in Regine’s room, the rich reds, crimson silks, the dark mahogany and gold ornaments still present. She had not awoken in some holding house – no, quite the opposite. She was a Van Carstein; her name demanded suitable accommodations, as Camile had informed her. Sleeping on hay and rough linen? For peasants! This beautiful room and all its black and red splendor was hers, and it was where they sat: Camile on the bed, and Regine by her small bed-side desk.

Suddenly, Camile clapped once, twice. On command, the door to Regine’s room opened and in entered one of the servant girls; likely around Regine’s age, though lacking the former thief’s athleticism and height. Instead, her pleasing features were more traditionally feminine, with her soft and gentle curves and attractive face garbed in fine clothing befitting a supplicant for such a family. They couldn’t have their representatives looking plebian, after all.

However, Regine’s attention snapped towards the serving girl almost immediately for a different reason: she could feel her mortal warmth, she could smell the enticement of her humours. A force like nothing Regine had ever known compelled her, urged her almost, to launch across the room and sink her fangs into the beautiful neck of the pretty girl and drink deep the warm contents within. But the vampiress resisted, barely, she held herself at bay, but she could not stop herself from staring at the girl with hungry, red eyes. Camile had predicted such a response from her childe, knowing that bringing the human girl in so soon after Regine had awakened was like dangling raw meat before a starving dog. But, this all had a purpose.

“This is Claire,” Camile introduced with her chipper attitude, standing up and moving over to the serving girl, the bell of her court dress marked with black and beautiful golden yellow silk.

“And Claire, is one of our servants; aren’t you Claire?”

Camile had drawn herself close to the mortal girl, putting both of her gloved hands upon her shoulders and looking sideways at her face with a reassuring smile; the pale vampire next to the warm pallor of her employee.

Claire nodded, “Yes. I am honored to be of service to Count Heinrich Von Carstein and his family. One day, I hope to have children to carry on my duties – just as my father did with me, and his mother before him, and her mother before her.”

This pleased Camile, who smiled as if she had just heard something funny.

“Yes; and we do not hesitate to reward such loyal devotion. Soon, we will find you a very handsome husband. Just the way we found your mother for your father - and from that happy union, you arrived!”

The girl was terrified. Regine could smell it. She could hear it, her heartbeat accelerating to a rapid impact against her ribcage. But it wasn’t Camile the girl was frightened of – it was her. Once more, Camile sensed this, her eyes moving from Claire to Regine.

“Claire, this is Regine von Carstein; my daughter.”

“It’s a p-pleasure to meet and serve, my Lady…” the girl curtsied.

“Oh don’t be humble, you have met her before!” Camile grinned, and now Regine understood the girls terror: she had seen her during her transformation, when she had been let loose in the jail cells to feed. It is likely Claire had to clean up the mess.

“But I understand your trepidation, my sweet Claire…” Camile’s sweet smile lingered as she stepped to the other side of the serving girl, her eyes on her neck as if even she was tempted to take just a little sample.

“You have not witnessed an expansion of our family. I imagine it was quite a new spectacle for you, my dear, sweet Claire. Do not worry, Regine is learning. Isn’t that right, my childe?”

Regine had to snap herself back to reality, as she realized she had been staring at the girl; her blood-red eyes almost boring holes into her as her senses drunk in every hint of the sweet, red nectar encased within that pretty bag of flesh.

Camile came around to stand a bit ahead of Claire, her body angled to take both her and Regine into her sight.

“Ahem, yes, sorry; yes, I am learning, still. You have nothing to fear from me…” Regine answered, less-than-convincingly.

Camile glared, her voice becoming firm and stern as she brought her hand up to almost stab the words at her childe, “these are our servants. They are not. For. Eating. Say it.”

Regine swallowed, eyes still locked on Claire. She went to speak, but her mouth was dry, and licking her lips…

“They are…our…”

Delicious pets, she thought.

“Say it!” Camile barked.

“T-t-they are our servants. They are not for eating.”

“Again.”

“Th…they are our servants. They are not for eating.”

“Once more, mon lapin.”

“They are our servants. We value their service and reward it dutifully. They are not for eating.”

Camile smiled, “There, you see Claire? Nothing to worry about!” she reassured her as best she could, while reaching for her purse upon her hip and withdrawing a single, golden ecu.

“Thank you for your time, my dear, sweet Claire. Go to the kitchen and have a sweet of your choice,” Camile said, while placing the ecu in the serving girls hand and closing her fingers over it.

“Oh – t-t-thank, you, mi’lady, I graciously thank you for your kindess!” Claire curtsied as best she could, backing up towards the door, before, once out of sight, audibly dashing off down the hall.

“Reginald!” Camile barked out the door, the sudden shuffling sound of feed on stone flooring coming closer.

“Really, my childe, control is of the utmost importance. You will be expected to be among the cattle in their cities for years at a time; you cannot afford to lose control. And please, no dining on the servants, my child, I will be very cross if you do so, mon lapin – ah!”

Camile’s attention was drawn to two figures entering Regine’s room: one was a man in mail armor that hung neatly from his tall and broad form, upon which was a black and red tabard displaying a grey wolfs head. Before him he held one of the prisoners from the jail, a young looking man of only mid twenty or so, his arms behind his back, his image cleaned up and bathed, fear in his eyes turning into terror when he spotted Regine.

“N – no no, not her! Please! I saw what she did! I-I-I won’t make any more ruckus, I accept my role, please I beg you not h – “

“Ssssh ssh sh sh…” Camile quietened the man, a finger over his lips, that smile still on hers.

“You are not going to die, my handsome young man. Probably. Regine?”

Camile didn’t have to ask twice – the new vampiress was on her feet and shadowing her mother in an instant, staring at the held and struggling man in Reginalds clinching grasp.

“Now, my childe, remember what we discussed: take only what you need. Self-control. Do not over-indulge. Do not attract attention by leaving a trail of corpses. Here, drink, from the source, and count down from five, then release. Ready?”

“Yes!” Regine stepped forward, her eyes alive and happy, her hands before her and clawed fingers splayed as if to grip her prey.

What she had not been expecting, was the heavy, decorated rod that Camile swiftly produced from the bulb of her court dress. The implement came down sharply with a loud Whack! across the vampiress’s knuckles, as Regine hissed and stepped back, mewling as if she were a cat that had just been whacked on the nose.

“I said: self, con-trol! Mon lapin. My beautiful little rabbit, I know you’re hungry and it’s hard, but you must learn this. Now, are you ready?”

Regine swallowed, inhaled, exhaled, her hands lowering, her blood-red eyes moving between her mother and her discipline, and to that delicious, warm mortal; no, the man, the human, the self-aware, young fellow in a spot of bother, who was going to go back to the jail cells after this, because she was going to control herself.

Regine nodded, “yes mother.”

Camile smiled.

“Good! Let’s begin…”

Spoiler: With Heinrich

Show

The hefty, iron-lock bouned leather tome was deposited heavily before the young vampiress, the man who had delivered it looming over her with his aged eyes peering down with expectation.

"The Vampire Wars..." Regine read the title, drawing her pale finger across its scripture, "Three Centuries of Humanity's War against the Vampirus nocturii of Sylvannia...by Theogonist Karl Hubreck."

"Three centuries," Heinrichs commanding voice repeated, the tall, well-dressed vampire drawing himself away from his seated grand-daughter and crossing towards the hearth of the war-room and its crackling flame within painting his tall, broad-shouldered figure in a dark silhouette.

"Three centuries our family utilised the resources of our homeland, Sylvannia, and almost conquered the entirety of the Empire. Vlad. Konrad. Mannfred. Three of our relatives, and one of them almost became the Emperor."

Regine couldn't even begin to think of such a conflict. Over three centuries of war?!

"How did they lose?"

Heinrich snorted lightly in amusement. "They didn't lose. The Empire won. Although, in the case of Konrad your statement would be accurate. A lunatic who dedicated his eternity to being a mad butcher, hewing apart foe and friend, until the latter abandoned him and the former to defeated him."

There was something in his composure that Regine noted, something in his words. She watched as Heinrich peered into the fire disapprovingly with a subtle shake of his head and flick of his lips.

"How would you have done it?" he asked suddenly, the depth of his voice and stature carrying its ancient authority.

Regine blinked, slightly startled at even considering such an option. Her? Run a war?

"I...don't even know what the Empire's capabilities are. I have never been. I don't know the people, the land, how they fight."

It might not have been the answer Heinrich wanted to hear, but he seemed to appreciate it the honesty, the admission of ones limits. He wore the smallest of smirks as he half-peered over his shoulder. "Caution. Reconnaissance. Learning their strengths and vulnerabilities," he seemingly explained Regine's own approach to her.

He nodded.

"It's a good start. Do you know anything about mustering soldiers or peasants? Planning how to feed twenty thousand men on the move? Logistics? Allies and diplomacy?"

Regine wanted to nod. A burning desire within her demanded that she not appear ignorant, but she could tell that he could see through any lie she might use in a weak attempt to sound smarter than she actually was.

"No..."

Again, her grandfather seemed pleased with her honesty.

"Of course not. You have doubtless needed to maneuver through the underworld of that snake pit, L'Anguille, but those aren't recruitment efforts, training schedules or weighing reconnaissance from scouts and predicting enemy movements."


A few moments of pause lingered as Heinrich peered into that fire, before drawing his tall figure away and back towards the large table at which Regine sat.

"Here," he gestured to another large book, the size of a horses head, "The Great Field Victories of Bretonnia, by Sir Giles Le Bon, famed historian from Castle Lyonesse. The wisest know what they know, and what they don't know, and they learn from the mistakes of others," Heinrich tapped the front of the book, looking down at Regine with the hint of approval.

"And the very wisest, continue to learn long after."

Regine couldn't help but smile.

Spoiler: With Ulrich

Show

A resounding string of cracks echoed across the valley and off the castle walls as the organ gun detonated its front rank, spewing a hail of lead cannon balls across a wide area that gashed the ground and splintered thick trees.

"Haha!" Regine laughed uproariously, hands over her sensitive ears as she had watched, her lovely cape blowing back a little from the gust of the detonation.

Cannon fuse still in hand, Ulrich turned himself at the waist to peer over at his little vampiric niece, a half-wild smile across his boyishly handsome face.

"I don't think it's quite loud enough - what do you think?" he laughed, Regine's grin remaining as she hurried over and ran her hand against the hot metal and inspected the machine.

"I had heard of gunpowder's use as a directed weapon, like guns - but never seen this, uncle!" she beamed, blood-red eyes fixed on the weapon. To this her uncle shrugged and twirled the lighting fuse about in his gloved hand before precisely tossing it to land among the others.

"Cannons, guns. It's all an alchemical reaction to produce work - the work of shoving these cannon balls into orcs and ogres!"

"I'm glad to see you're helping us to remain conspicuous," a voice came across the pair, as Regine turned to spot Wulf approaching, flanked by two horses, reins in each of his hands.

"Only if you let the bandits go, brother!" Ulrich teasingly jabbed, wearing that devilish smirk upon his face. "The mighty Wulf, feller of ogres, minotaurs, the minions of chaos and a giant - out-ran by a group of thugs in the woods! Haha!"

Wulf retained his composure with just a knowing, arched eyebrow, but Regine gasped gently, turning to look at the larger man. "You've fought and killed a giant?! Tell me about it please!" she beamed.

"No need, I will," Ulrich interjected, "you see, divorce is illegal in the Empire, so he had to get rid of his wife somehow!"

To think Wulf took a telegraphed swing, one the trimmer Ulrich darted out of the way of just in time, showing dexterous foot-work as Wulf threw a few more punches his way that ate only air, and left Regine giggling as she watched.

"Mind yourself, Ulrich. You can play with your toys later, but I'm taking Regine for a ride, she needs to learn how."

"You must learn how," Ulrich mimicked his brothers deeper voice, wagging his finger at Regine as the vampiress smiled cheekily.

Wulf lead Regine over to the two horses he had brought over, assisting her with mounting the dark one with soft, white spots across its neck. When both were mounted, Wulf directed her how to signal to the horse to go at just a gentle cantor.

"We'll be back in a few hours Ulrich, make sure you've brought your toys back into the castle, and do remember mein brudder: we are trying to keep a low profile."

Ulrich slunk one foot forward and gave a flamboyant little bow, offering Regine a small wave as she smiled and returned the curtsey, as both she and Wulf departed on their ride.

[bramblefoot]

wulf will teach regine how to ride a horse. Hes a skilled horseman, and will teach regine a few tricks, namely how to use a horse as a shield when under fire. He stops the horse "try swinging into the saddle. ill ride by, and you swing up behind me. use the bridle and momentum"

wulf will ride back about twenty paces "you ready little sister?" he asks.

gimme an agility roll to swing into the saddle

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein


Regine had been getting used to the cantor of the horse, its gait, the way the world seemed more distant as she was elevated into the saddle. She had never really been around horses that much, but had always thought they were beautiful animals - and now that she was this upclose and riding one? Her affection was growing. Periodically she'd reach down and affectionately rub the broad, muscular neck of the beast atop whom she rode.

wulf will teach regine how to ride a horse. Hes a skilled horseman, and will teach regine a few tricks, namely how to use a horse as a shield when under fire. He stops the horse "try swinging into the saddle. ill ride by, and you swing up behind me. use the bridle and momentum"

wulf will ride back about twenty paces "you ready little sister?" he asks.

gimme an agility roll to swing into the saddle

Staying in position, nodding out and waving at Wulf as he rode twenty yards away.

"Yes!" she'd yell out; staying focused, her body coiled and ready and then - she swung to the side of the saddle. She withdrew her right foot from the stirrup and brought her leg up and over the back of the horse, half-crouching behind the best. Awkward and unpractised in her efforts, she seemed to pull off the maneuverer.

[bramblefoot]

wulf smiles appreciatively "good job" he says, and will put the horse into a full gallop "just hang on little sister" he calls as the night air flies past your face. wulf easily puts the horse through its paces, and will return it to the stable panting and lathered in sweat "caspars a good beast" he says, rubbing down caspar with a curry comb. "still in the prime of his life, accustomed to vampires, and surly around other people that arent his owner" caspar nickers, and rubs his face against wulfs. "when we part ways, i want you to have caspar. He's a free spirit, and i cant give him that anymore" wulf turns to you "i want your oath to take care of caspar. i know your life is more important than his, but give him a treat on sundays, and curry comb him daily. He's vain about his appearance"

wulf offers a massive mitt "do we have an accord?"

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein


The vampiress's eyes widened at the offering, her mouth gaping gently as she stood adjacent to the dark-furred equine beast that had just become hers.

"He...Casper is...mine?" she stammered, eyes open, unable to believe what she was being given. Even in her undead state she was not so far-gone from her emotions that being granted a creature as beautiful as a warhorse could not rouse the stirring passions of gratitude and anticipation. The expense alone was astounding, no normal commoner could afford such an animal - yet here one was, all hers.

If she could exhale, she would have. Instead she smiled and half-curtsied to Wulf, turning and wrapping her arms around the beautiful animals broad, thick neck and granting him an affectionate hug. Given Regine's newly amplified and terrifying levels of physical prowess, she made sure to 'pull her punches', so to speak, and not break the poor things neck as she applied her grip and admiration.

"Thank you, Uncle!" Regine beamed, her lips arching in a broad smile as her previously-numb emotions roiled to the surface and expressed themselves in sincere gratitude.

[bramblefoot]

wulf grins "caspers good stock. He can run like the wind, and still be ready for battle. He's iron-shod, so a kick will likely break someones bones. did i mention he also bites people" he walks away and whispers "if you want casper to go off the chain, exsolvo will make him frenzy. revincio will snap him out of it. use it sparingly."

ooc: i think we can cut ahead to the goodbye if you want, as i have nothing planned

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

The Vampiress was still smiling, her eyes focused on the beautiful animal before her. Her pale hands, capable of incredible violence, gently stroked and brushed the equine pet with sincere affection.

"Thank you, uncle! Thank you!" she beamed, kissing Casper on his deep neck once again and hugging him.

"I will take best of him as best I can!"

OOC:
______

Yup, fine by me!

[bramblefoot]

the vampiric coven gathers to wish their newest vamp leave to explore the world. wulf will lead casper out to you, clasp your hand and click his heels together in a sign of respect. Ulrich will stand and salute, saying "i had fun testing the organ gun with you" camile will bring two ravens out and hook their cages to caspers tack "in case you wish to exchange correspondence, mon lapin" she will hug you tight and and youd feel a tear drip onto your cloak. camile composes herself, and will walk away. you can tell she doesnt want to, but is bound by duty. Heinrich appears last, and will pass a writing kit in an oaken box, and a small neatly folded up piece of paper "go well daughter" he says with the barest hint of a smile. "open that paper out before you go. im testing out an unfoldable map. wherever you go, ye never shall be lost"

where to first bloodsucker?

ooc:

the unfoldable map starts out as a 2x2 square of paper. where you travel, the map will sketch itself onto the paper and expand. you can never run out of room on said map, and you can always fold it down to the original 2x2 paper, where it will seem blank

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

For a former thief who had no one to rely on after she was 12 years old, just a week with a group who wanted to see her succeed felt like a triumph in and of itself. Tutored and guided, Regine felt the tug of gratitude within her as she stood before them all, her hand gripping the reins to her new mount and steed.

Dressed in her clothes, weapons present, the former thief gives a curtsey to her present 'family'; having brought her into a whole new world, granted her a prestigious last name and unlife eternal.

"Thank you all...grandfather..." she spoke first to Heinrich, once more curtsying to the most senior of the family, "uncles," she directed towards Wulf and Ulrich, "and mother," finally she gave to Camile.

Drawing herself up onto her new horse, Regine gave a mounted bow, her right arm down across her abomen.

"I will not bring shame to our name, nor will I forget where my new home and blood resides."



OOC:
_______

Let's head South-West into the mountains, towards the abandon mine.

[bramblefoot]

alright, so a few hours of riding, casper stops, and sniffs the air. He turns his head to the south, and then back to you. You'd smell wet dog on the wind, coming this way in a hurry. casper looks at you with an unspoken question fight or flight

wdyd

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Regine felt oddly happy as her figure moved back and forth in conjunction with the movement of her horse beneath her, the beautiful fjord to her side, the forest to her other and the mountains all around them, with the starry night above.

Suddenly, hearing the approaching 'things' ahead, her incredibly acute sense of smell delivering the scent of...wet dogs? Wolves?

The Vampire’s eyes widened a touch with curiousity. Reaching down and stroking Caspers broad neck for reassurance, Regine leaned over and plucked her spear from its stirrup holster and urged her mount forward slowly out of inspection and preparation, one hand on the reins the ither gripping her weapon.

OOC:
______
Concealment Roll: (1d100)[6] vs TN 113

Changed her actions, roll not necessary.

[bramblefoot]

alright, so riding towards the smell of wet dog, youd spot a trio of what appear to be augmented wolves. one has two green eyes, one has two yellow eyes, and one has a singular lone red eye. they stop, and size you up. you get the feeling theyd take you, but its too costly for them

"felicitations malefactors" the one-eyed wolf gravels in fragmented brettonian "we are searching for an escapee from our master. if you have seen him let us know please" the wolf will proceed to describe someone expert at woodcraft, prolly a herrimault by his description of a long black cloak with a hood. they seem reluctant to say more

wdyd?

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein


Regine's eyes fell upon the bestial wolves, their glowing eyes clear indication of abnormalities at play. In months past her first instinct would have been to flee the scene and hide. But now, a vampire and undead, possessed of few mortal fears, she found the beasts more curious than frightening.

Until they spoke.

Speaking wolves? What trickery was this?!

Seated atop her steed, spear in hand and dark clothes upon her, the vampire looked like a dark rider of the night, her fair skin kissed by the pale moon-light.

"To what master do you refer, beasts?!" she called out to them, her free hand upon Casper's reins to steady her mount.

"Who else resides in these mountains that could command the allegiance of ones such as you?"

[bramblefoot]

The red eyed wolf speaks again "we have a security pact with the von carsteins." it turns to reveal a brand on its hindquarters of the von carstein sigil. "unfortunately, we were unaware of a new von carstien. please accept our sincerest apologies" the green eyed wolf lets out a cough "unfortunately on page 310 subsection 2, it says we are not required to discuss business except to the count hisself" it offers a apologetic grin "if there is nothing else, we have prey to hunt"

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Regine narrowed her eyes into suspicious slits while offering a small mod. It made sense that her grandfather would use various beasts to maintain eyes and influence over the mountain passes.

"Apology accepted, loyal beasts. I will hinder you no further in the pursuit of your quarry. May you serve my grandfather well."

The vampire would then offer a small bow from atop her horse, weapon in hand, eyes on the wolves.

With the matter seemingly resolved, Regine would continue along the path adjacent to the fjord through the mountains. She was leery of approaching the human settlements yet, but she was intrigued by the markings of a mine in the North-West of the region.

[bramblefoot]

alright, so arriving at ze mine, it looks abandoned. Nothing out of ze ordinary. the cave is big, tall enough to ride casper through. regine smells a weird ozone-like scent permeating around the cave

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Regine held the reins with one hand and her spear with the other, the soft cantor of Casper beneath her allowing the vampire to truly enjoy her surroundings. Being born and raised a city girl, she had never been alone in the forests as she was now, with the fjord adjacent to one side and the woods to the other, large crags of mountains drawing themselves up into jagged shapes of stone and minerals beneath a broad moon and stars.

She could get used to this.

Encountering no one else upon the road, the vampire made her way south of the van Carstein fortress, then east - or west from the maps perspective - towards the abandoned mine, its rusting archs soon coming into view as its once carved beauty now sat upon a yawning, dark entrance. Already Regine could smell something foul in the air, her ultra-sensitive nose sniffing several times before drawing up to within fifty yards the foreboding portal.

In weeks past, Regine wouldn't have dared enter such a place. But now? Now the halting, timid fear of mortality had lost most of its grip over her apprehensions - now she went forward!

Dismounting Casper and gently kissing the beast on the side of his large head, the vampire took him into the woods and tethered his reins to a tree, tight enough to keep him but loose enough that he could pull away and flee if panicked. The next step was to ensure he had proper fodder, before kissing him once more upon his beautiful, long face, and drawing a saddle bag from him to hang it over her own shoulder.

Returning to the mine, Regine peered into the darkness, her well-adjusted eyes picking out the details and her nose collecting a plethora of information about whatever lay within.

Smiling, the vampire entered, keeping to the shadows.


OOC;
______________________________

Perception roll Visual: (1d100)[45] vs 97, 5 successes.

Perception roll Scent: (1d100)[65] vs 97, 3 successes.

Concealment roll: (1d100)[86] vs TN 113, 3 successes.

[bramblefoot]

alright, so entering ze mine, youd spot signs of habitation. a small shrine to nurgle has been placed, and bedrolls are placed around a strange device, all finely worked crystal and metal. a small spark flickers out as if to gently sniff you, and then will retreat back to the device

there is the stench of disease inside, albeit covered by the ozone outside

anything to do inside bloodsucker?

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein

Regine stalked into the mine with caution, though such apprehension was not born from fear. Instead, old habits died hard, and she was not so arrogant as to now let her new-found vampiric capabilities get to her head.

Spear grasped in both hands, body crouched low, the vampire stuck to the ever expanding shadows, the scene of ozone and old air assaulting her nostrils, until she came upon a small, curious shrine - one that she was, unfortunately, familiar with. The triple circles of Nurgle had become known to Regine since she and the others had been transported to that island, and the basics of the Chaos deities were taught to her by Wighard.

That would explain the foul, fetid stench emanating from deeper within the mine. If these cultists were here, she knew they had to be cleaned out and defeated. The longer they were able to stay and entrench themselves, the more human attention it would gather...and that is something her new family would very much like to avoid.

Quietly, Regine pressed onwards and deeper into the mine...


OOC;
______________________________

Perception roll Visual: (1d100)[14] vs 97 - 9 successes.

Perception roll Scent: (1d100)[61] vs 97 - 3 successes.

Concealment roll: (1d100)[3] vs TN 113 - 11 successes.

[bramblefoot]

going deeper into the mine, youd see a couple norse warriors sitting around a fire with an old shaman passing a steaming bowl around. The warriors seem agitated after the bowl, very jittery and pacing around, eyes pinging, but staying within visual distance of each other. the shaman will mutter something, and dump the bowl into the fire, and a thick purple smoke will billow up. it seems to have a will of its own, and will float towards regine.

You got two options. fight or flight

what'll it be?

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein


The vampire narrows her eyes as she watches the procession - some shaman-looking Norscan conjuring his vapour and providing edible within a both to two warriors at his side, which only seemed to make them irritable and jittery.

Seeing the smoke slowly drifting towards her, Regine flicked her lips. She wasn't about to be driven from this mine by some scruffy old man and his two mortal goons.

Sticking to the shadows and moving as silent as death, the vampire crept around the small encampment, setting her spear aside and drawing her blade and dagger as she did so. Also, her typically angular, pleasing human features seemed to...shift, alter, as if she were relaxing a muscle as her real form emerged across her face - that of the undead predator, sharper angles, fangs visible. She finally came to a halt - right behind the shame, where her sword was aimed right at his back.

[bramblefoot]

The norscan shaman will let you keep the sword at his back "you can kill me, but i dont think youll like the outcome. its your call" he sits calmly, as if unafraid of death. The norscans swivel, but the shaman waves them back. "i dont fear death, old jormung has been a constant companion through my years. if it's my time, it's my time"

the smoke will circle around, and wait.

your call

[BananaPhone]

Regine von Carstein


The vampire held the beautifully sharp edge of her knife to the Shamans throat, her predatory, vampiric face peering over his shoulder and at other two Norscans, and whatever the purpleish-pink vapor was.

"You're a long way from home, outlander," Regine hissed, gesturing up with her sword and pointing the tip at the two drugged-out marauders.

[bramblefoot]

The shaman grunts noncommittally "we are a long way from home. but if you wished to trade, im sure i can pull something out of my hat" he stops himself from laughing "what would it cost to keep my skin unruptured? im sure i can come up with summat "

"so tell me bloodsucker, what's your price? "