Clan Titan

It had been quite some time since The Black Death had walked the Titan lands, yet this evening a strange wind seemed whisper warning in every ear. The sun slowly neared the horizon as the pink hues of twilight began to emerge, a small sliver of shadow had begun to etch the corners of the buildings around the courtyard, blackening the stone upon the ground. DiRamon stood still and unmoving. With the strange light of the twilight upon him, he could have been mistaken for a statue in this stalwart pose. Inward he was ablaze with activity, for as the sun fell... his hunger rose.

The darkness within his soul called to him, the primal urges within beckoned, his mouth was parched. His eternal thirst within set him afire with desire. He needed to satisfy his hunger, his thirst. Yet no bread would satiate his hunger, no wine parch his thirst. He needed flesh, he needed blood, he needed... to kill.

Blood filled his eyes, maddening him for want to kill. One moment he was there, in the middle of the alleyway atop a building. Then with near speed that blurred the air like that the wings of a hummingbird he leaped high into the sky. With deadly silence he landed on a nearby rooftop, his landing would cause nothing more than a slight rap on the shingles, but this could easily be dismissed as one of the many bumps in the night.

He crouched on the roof to observe his prey in the city below, but for a moment only. Effortlessly he threw himself down from his perch upon the rooftop, his eyes still ablaze with hunger.

"Who shall give me drink tonight? Who shall feed my hunger?" DiRamon shouted the challenge for all to hear, indeed, the Angel of Cain had returned to Titan.

After over a month, things were on track again. Blythe had nearly given up on waiting for Milton, cursing himself out for giving something so precious to a man with no values. He hadn’t even questioned the man’s loyalty. In the end the man pulled through. Blythe had his rare item back and safely hidden off of himself until it was needed in the future. But first he had to find the person the item was for.

Waking this sunrise he decided to check where she last was. Now he was in town to grab that item, and head off.

Being only a child physically Blythe was welcomed to walk calmly once he made it to town. Looking up at the building, the vampire knew he could get it quickly and have time to travel. He was about to walk around to the side of the building so that he could move up without people noticing when suddenly a man jumped off of it. Like the other people around him Blythe stared, more to blend in than out of shock from the man’s words.

The air was tense and thick as those who were about froze in fear, DiRamon turned casting a glare that would cause the neck hairs to rise on end and a lump to gather in the throat of even the bravest warrior. Then as his turn continued he suddenly stopped, as blood magics began to burn.

His visage, his body, his very presence seemed to change and yet it did not. Fear began to roll off him and penetrate the crowd like fog in a murky forest. His eyes were locked, intense and cold. the thirst for blood became apparent as the crimson source of his power flooded into his eyes staining them scarlet and perverse as sin itself. His dark pupils retaliated upon the invasion of red, pushing back upon the walls, and became as black portals into the darkest pits of hell where no light could reach.

The source of his deathly stare? A villager, from what it appeared a weary farmer who had come to the market this day to sell the fruits of his labors, a red tear ran down the inside of the dark angel's cheek but did not escape his evil lips, for this father would not return to his children, his wife would spend a sleepless night of worry till a messenger would deliver her the dread message.

The farmer trembled as fear overcame him, paralyzed as the cold hand of death began to tighten its hold upon him. Then as if an explosion occurred, the pupils of DiRamon's eyes violently expanded to fill his whole eye, the portal opening as the soul of his victim was drawn in, and then retracting just as quickly.

The farmer fell dead upon the cobblestone way, the Assamite looking around once more. It would be at this moment that those who could gather the courage to run would do so.

"Do you think I jest? Will you stand idly by while I murder your citizens? I ask again, a challenger to fill my thirst!" The vampire's voice echoed through the streets of Titan, it was then that he first sensed someone... something else, indeed someone like unto himself walked the streets. In the haze of scents and emotions that saturated the air so thoroughly that for the moment it was impossible to identify exactly from whom the scent was derived, and so he scanned the scrambling crowd with his piercing gaze.

"Huh?" he said with a jolt, as a crash outside the window woke Joe from his sleep. It took him a moment to realize where he was, until he saw the girl lying next to him, still fast asleep. What was her name? Ugh, what time was it? Joe lifted a wooden slat and peered out. It was night, maybe just, and there were people scrambling outside. Looked like one of them had slammed against the window in his hurry.

He slipped his pants on and let out a sigh. What the hell was going on now? And where was his shirt? He knelt down to look under the bed, no, but God, what was - better not knowing.

Another loud noise amongst the comotion and someone yelling something. Was that a challenger for first? There it was, how did it? Oh yeah, heh. He grabbed his shirt, threw it on and headed out the door, making a quick glance back. Still sleeping.

On the street he had a better view of what was happening. A man lay face first on the ground, others around were standing in a sort of silent terror, while the few that had the sense to run, well, they were running. In the middle of the street was the man who must have made the challenge. Guess this poor guy on the ground was the first one he was talking about.

"Ho there," Joe said " What's this about a challenge disturbing my sleep?" He raised his hand in greeting, looking very much the bumbling idiot. In truth, he was calling forth his staff and sword from wherever he'd left them last, using a recent trick he'd learned to mask the mana signature and complete the illusion. As he did, he looked past the man to see on the opposite side of the street the boy he'd come to know as Blythe, faking shock with the rest of the crowd. He didn't exactly trust the boy, but he also didn't think he was evil. Hopefully he was on the right side here tonight.

Blythe never looked straight into the eye of the man. Deep down he could almost tell that he was a vampire, and having spent such awful time with them before taught the boy not to. When everyone noticed the dead man it confirmed Blythe’s feelings, patting him on the back. Everyone ran this way and that.

He still needed to get to that building.

Ignoring the man’s continued search for a challenge, as well as his threats, Blythe moved within the groups. He was keeping more of an eye on the other vampire than the others, and wasn’t so rushed. What he wanted was behind the man, not away from him as the people ran. Passing a break between two buildings, he slipped into it as the others ran past. Sometimes there was more of an advantage to being a child than being treated differently.

Another man came out, the other vampire having disturbed his sleep. Blythe smiled. Maybe this show would be worth the time it was wasting.

Carn scurried through the market district sticking to shadows and alleys to avoid being seen by prying eyes. It was difficult to be discrete, but time and practice had gifted the former leader of Titan with the ability of stealth.

She had just left the Arcane District of Cartes, where she'd been sneaking to at night to further her magical studies, and she was on the long way home to her Chateau some distance from Cartes. In her hands, she clutched an old, leather tome. Its pages were yellowed and worn and there were scraps of parchment dotted with scribbles and blots of ink poking out from between the pages where she'd marked interesting spells to work on or learn.

Pausing her travels to breathe in the cool night air, savoring the scents of the market, Carn brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and rested against the side of a building behind a stack of empty barrels. (Sneaking around really wore her out.) As she rested, she heard a commotion on the street in juxtaposition to her alley. Carn momentarily thought it best not to see what was going on, but her curiosity won out as she saw a child run past her. She slunk through an adjacent alley to see if she could make out what was going on.

Pausing at the corner, her soft, white gown ruffled as a cool breeze blew past. A pale woman in a white dress that was tattered and burned from an afternoon of spell casting would look almost like a wraith or ghost under the moonlight. She'd play that up as her cover, and nodded her head to confirm the decision before peeking around the corner.

Carn's jaw dropped. Her eyes went wide. She stopped breathing.

Ducking back around the protection of the corner, she pressed herself against the wall clutching the tome to her chest. "Remembering to breathe would be nice... ,"she thought before exhaling. Her hands fidgeted to physically manifest her frustration as she wished she wasn't so curious to have walked down this alley. If she had been seen now, it was likely to have been someone she never intended upon seeing.

"Typical. Just typical." She slunk back down the alley and cursed in her head as she tried to think of a way around the situation in the event she'd been detected.

The vampire, where was he? DiRamon's instinct cried to him that something was amiss as he scanned the masses, yet there was a few things that stood out to him. There were in whose eyes he saw more than blinding fear, he saw something else, willpower, innocence, determination. Of these would resistance may come.

A middle aged man stumbled through the clearing streets. He walked confused, yet calm. Immediately DiRamon recognized that he was deaf and dumb, he had not heard the screams and there was no light in his eyes, no he was nothing of which to be concerned. Certainly not the an Undead warrior.

Then a small child caught his eye as he scanned about him, an interesting child? The child had almost escaped his sight, yet he seemed to move with cautious purpose. He mentally marked the boy, for a voice caught his attention. He did not turn immediately, yet neither did he give sign that he was watching the boy, but he wanted to see where the child went.
As he began his turn, a white flash caught his sight. "A phantasm?", he thought to himself, "No, this is not the undead I sense."

Yet again he took mental note, the alley way in which he had seen the flash of white rags had appeared, for this also could prove a threat, but he had not time to formally address them all now. Now was time to preform, the players now coming to center stage. Twas true the greatest danger lay within the uncertain but one cannot understand the second act till the first was fully played.

For the moment, the least threatening was the known, and the known was the one responding to his challenge. What part would this character be playing, most surely his lines were those of a tragic hero, one who lives true and dies true. A insidious smile crossed his lips as spoke, "You alone respond? Do you think you could hope to give a challenge to one such as I? Perhaps not... but I may use you to warm these cold bones and shake off the old dust."

Anticipation of battle overcame him, though the crowd fled as ants when something crosses their trail, the moon showed her face. She was all who needed to see the brilliant dance preformed upon dusk's own stage. His fangs began to enlarge as he bore a toothy smile, yet rather quickly his fingernails grew. They elongated to become as knives extending from the Assamite's fingers. Each blade was razor sharp and hard as iron, indeed these were his chosen weapons for the moment and he flashed them as he prepared himself, bending his knees slightly.

Even in the darkness Joe could see the man's claws extend and the growth of his fangs as he crouched a little, preparing for an attack. This place just seemed full of vampires sometimes. Sigh. He knew not all of them were bad, but damn, there sure were a hell of a lot of them that were.

"Look, I don't know what all this challenge stuff is all about, I'm just tryin to figure out what the 'H' is happening with all this noise." Joe left his hand in the air as he spoke as if he'd forgotten it was even there. "Maybe you've got something on your mind you want to talk about, we can head over to the tavern and I'll buy you a drink. A good drink never hurt anyone. Help that poor fellow up," he said gesuring to the dead man on the ground in front of the vampire. "Maybe a good drink will help him too, looks like he's had a rough night."

Carn settled on an answer. A short, simple three letter word-- RUN.

She took off down the back alley away from the hubbub that she'd run into. As she ran, she prayed she hadn't been seen. If she were seen, then someone, besides Twist, would know she was learning magic. Half the fun of learning magic was keeping this knowledge to herself. Why, if people knew about it, then they'd EXPECT magic... and if others knew that she was studying magic, Ebon-Ashe might find out and then all hell would break loose.

Carn sprinted to the end of the alley and turned right running further away from the distraction. She weaved her way through several alleys and then took time to double back on her trail before ducking into a seedy looking pub called The Dancing Dryad.

She pulled her hood low before entering and sitting at a secluded table to wait out any trouble. Waiving a hand to a barmaid, she tried to order hot cocoa.

"You want what?! Lady, we only serve hard drinks here for hard folks."

Not wanting to attract further attention to herself, carn ordered a meal and a nice lager to wash it down with. She'd make the cocoa herself using magic and hope no one saw...

Only, it would seem as if her cover was already blown. Eyes looked to carn's table. She was a stranger in these parts who ordered cocoa.... She cursed at herself under her breath, "Could I have been even more spastic ordering cocoa!"

Blythe went still in the corer of the alleyway. He could barely see out behind a banner that allowed him a peek here and there.

So far watching these two had been boring. One man was probably making poor choices, and the other was overly confident. There was a chance that there were reasons for both, but for now Blythe’s reasons to move were more important. For someone who had lived so long, he could be very impatient.

Making sure to stay where he wouldn’t be easily seen by the two men, Blythe grabbed onto the bricks of the building and began to pull himself up. He stood on the second ledge, the building behind him one story less than the one he held on to. Staying between the two to check his surroundings he noted a nearby open window. There was another one on the next floor; the one his back would be exposed on. Holding himself still and silent he glanced to the men again, waiting for their next moves.

Up this short distance he could see the last of the people flee. Blythe didn’t understand how one man’s death could cause such a panic. The small vampire glanced to the building accost the street--the one the darker man was originally on--before settling on the two men again. Things needed to hurry up.

Agustus (shortend to Gus here on out) had been gone from Titan for quite some time. He had been traveling to other lands training himself trying to better master his polymorphing abilities aswell as some alchemy. As he walked he could not help but wonder how everyone was, who was still around and who had left for their own journey... aswell as those that had 'passed on' from this world to the next do to either something going wrong during their journey or of old age, either way he wondered.

On his way to the Golden Gryphon Tavern, he heard screams aswell as saw a few people run in fear, at first he thought it was Zuka terrorizing the commoners. Then he heard something about a vampire, Though Zuka was part vampire he was most notably a necromancer so his next thought was Yoshi.(aka WillyWonka) though It was not Yoshi's style.

"Great... another vampire..."
*Sigh*
"Well better go check it out"

Gus walked toward the epicenter of the commotion and heard a few things concerning a challenge as he got closer he saw movment on the rooftops which looked that of a young lad. He says to himself "that childs curiosity will get the best of him, better keep a close watch on him."
As he neared the place of origin, he saw a man laying on the ground next to a man, who most likely was the culprit/vampire he had heard of. He turned slightly and saw that his friend Joe was speaking with the vampire who had just undergone a quick transformation.

*Sigh*
Gus willed the man near himself and began a spell he had learned on his travels to re-animate the corpse to life, though this spell would drain most if not all of his mana, having a dead commoner was not something he wanted and having people die in the lands of Titan was bad for Titans Reputation of caring for its people.

As Life came back to the lifeless eyes of the farmer, Gusvspoke to the farmer.
"welcome back to the land of the living... ill say this once, Run for your dear life for it is too dangerous here... if you die again, i wont be able to bring you back again... after all this is finished come to the palace and show the guards this gesture and they will let you in to speak with me. so we can compensate you for your 'Losses' this evening"

As Gus finished speaking he motioned the farmer to Run

"Now then, you come To Titan in search for a challenge, am I correct? well for now let us all go to the tavern to see if there are any other adventurers willing to accept your challenge, as I am sure there are. Attacking the innocent on the streets is no way to draw attention of future challengers. your best bet is to go to a tavern and see who/what is inside. If you are just thirsty our taverns offer many delacasies that shall suit your taste... which ever it may be we do cater to any kind and are not biast to race."

With that said Gus turned to Joe

"Been a long time.... i see your missing your boots, been sleeping around again haven't ya?"
*raises an eyebrow*

"one of these days the maidens of this city will catch up with you"

*rubs his two index fingers together to make the shame gesture*

"well i guess its no problem so long as no one gets hurt. shall we head over to the tavern for a drink? course its on me in celebration of my short lived return... or shall we have some fun..."

((sorry... been quite a while since ive Rped so its a bit ruff))

This was to a glorious night for the fields were ripe and ready for harvesting upon the lands of Titan. DiRamon observed as yet another blood bag arrived to offer himself as sacrifice. It was futile, his hunger was unending, no single mans blood, except for that of Cain himself perhaps, could atone for the thirst of an Assamite.

The Dark Angel watched with pity and disgust as the new comer breathed life once more into the farmer, it mattered not to DiRamon whither this man live or not, but to undo the beauty that he wrought was unforgivable. Pity for the would be savior had traded his own life for that of the farmer, disgust for mortals were pathetic and weak. It was time to begin this brilliant dance of death, DiRamon feared not death, for he had died once, and it took an Assamite to kill him. Now he bore royal blood, and soon he would show to these worms the power contained therein.

DiRamon rolled his back and lifted his arms as he drew in the cold night's air, then slowly allowed his arms to rest as his head lowered, the fools continued to banter on about going to a tavern and talking. He was quickly bored by such nonsense, and grew impatient.

"I am DiRamon, the Assamite, and that which satisfies my thirst cannot be found within the walls of a tavern, no.... I believe right here standing before me are my delicacies..." His tone began stern and bold then hissed into a seductive rasp, for as he spoke his blades awoke. It was time.

He paused just a moment, and then burst into motion. From his left sleeve a small throwing dagger would be revealed but a flick and it would its course would already be set upon a path for the left torso of Agustus. His left hand, however knew not what his right was doing, for that hand was already moving to draw his sword. He was but three paces from his prey, yet the distance was great. He lengthened his strides as moved towards the men with surprising haste, just as his sword was fully drawn he would be upon them. He brought the sword down towards Joe's left shoulder with enough force to to severe his uplifted arm clean.

Though his speed was great, he was not yet using his vampyric talents to full potency, they were after all mortals. They hadn't even properly drawn their weapons, and he wanted to play with his toys.



(Hey man, we post when we can. No pressure, I just find the sit down and "just do it" method works best for me. I'm really excited)

This guy was fast. At least he charged Joe instead of Gus.At least Joe didn't have to try to protect anyone but himself for the time being.

In feigned fright Joe's eyes got big. He went to step back, then fell backwards onto his ass just as the blade would have hit his arm. "OOF!" Meanwhile his sword came hurling through the air towards his hand that was now on the ground. It was coming from behind DiRamon and was spinning somewhat erraticly so that before it reached Joe, it would catch DiRamon in the back of the legs, hopefully knocking him down as well. The sheath was still on it so it wouldn't cause any real damage for now, at least nothing that wouldn't heal easy.



~edit: enlarged to show texture.~

When another man brought back the dead one, Blythe’s attention fell from the two fighters. He had never seen anything like it. The man seamed like a good person, and yet not overly so. Inside the young boy was almost agreeing with this man. It would let Blythe get what he wanted faster.

The Assamite—as he came to be—turned down the suggestion. Jumping into fighting Blythe had given up on waiting to think of what to do next. The vampire was already bringing his attack, and the more foolish man would either die or defend himself. Blythe thought for a moment of where he heard the name Assamite before. It wasn’t something he was too concerned with at the time, he reasoned, but his caution would increase. Seeing the sword fly for the other vampire, Blythe thought this would be a chance where he could move.

Moving to the far end of the building’s roof, he gathered speed before jumping into the air several stories above the fighters. He could easily land on the next roof accost the street; the one he had an eye so closely on, and the one that held something so important.

"Assamite?!?"
He had heard bits and pieces about them in his travels.... regaining some composure Gus began to unsheath his swords, as he drew them he began to move. Though not quick enough, the throwing dagger pierced his arm. If he had not moved the dagger would have done nothing but dent his armor or at the most scratch his skin. He grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled it out just as The assamite began his attack on Joe
"Tch.... Assamite, hmph"

He began his charge, though his left arm was a bit numb he would heal it when he had time to recover mana... he had made a mistake bringing back that man before things were settled. if he had waited he could have made his flesh as strong as that of a mountain troll though casting the polymorph spell too time which he did not have much of do to the surprise attack.

He ran as fast as he could to Reach joe before he could get hurt. As he reached close enough he began to swing his sword full force. Meant to decapitate the assamite. He did not want to kill though a situation like this it would be the only available option unless more people die.

"ASSAMITE!!!!"

The Assamite, DiRamon, being a skilled assassin. Would know of the inpending attack and most likely dodge or deflect the attack but even so, the attack was not ment for anything except to get Joe out of his perdicament.