The Sun Sets, and the Hunt Begins

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

Morsereg wandered down an alley, keeping to the most unused paths possible. The sun had set not long before, and he had woken up hungry...or atleast craving some old-fashioned violence. The velvety blackness of the sky above held a secret, as if this night in particular felt like being a pest. It certainly had seemed it, for Morsereg could find no suitable meal.

The only victims he had run across in his walk this night were those too drunk to kill...their blood would give no satisfaction. The alcohol in their blood would give it a taste similar to ash, as it would if the blood wasn't present. This was almost getting frustrating for the vampire, a certain bloodlust tinting his eyes. He was getting to a more populated area of the business district...with his current bloodthirst, that would be no good. He'd end up killing atleast three mortals as soon as they got close enough, and attract much more attention than he needed right now. He did not need the City Guard on him.

He found an alleyway near an entrance to a tavern. Soon he saw a man wandering up, sober but with the intention of changing that soon. The man was about to reach for the door, when something in the back of his mind told him not to. No...he was supposed to meet someone in the alley. But, who? Ah, yes, he remembered now, his father was meeting him in there, who was going to slip him some bishan.

The unknowing man turned towards the alleyway, walking with intention. The fool didn't know what hit him when Morsereg came from behind with one arm wrapped around his chest and the other grasping his head. The spell was dropped, and the man found himself waking as if from a daze, in the hands of a vampire. Fear itself paralyzed him so much that he could not scream. A cold tongue ran itself up and down his neck.

"Go ahead, scream. It makes it much more fun for me," Morsereg taunted, and the man tried to scream. Fangs were lodged in his throat and tore out his vocal cords long before the shriek could escape. He stood there for a few moments, savoring every last drip of blood. In the end, he ran his tongue once more over the wound to lick up any small specks he might have missed.

[Alalia Morrigan]

A cloaked figure sat on the roof of the tavern, shrouded in a cape and hood. The only things visible amid the shadows were two brilliant green eyes that glinted in the pale moonlight. The pupils were little more than inky slits in the center of the seemingly glowing orbs. The shadowy form had been crouched in the same position since sunset, not moving a muscle as it watched humans go into the tavern. Though no expression was visible, the figure seemed to radiate a feeling of arrogant disdain.

The orbs disappeared for a split second as the creature blinked, than reappeared to focus on the man wandering off. Now, that was odd. Men usually went into the tavern as quickly as they good, and didn’t emerge for a few hours, but this one was walking off in another direction. Having nothing else to do, the form followed, moving like a shadow from roof top to roof top, leaping across the alley way when necessary. It moved nearly soundlessly, with nothing but the occasional flap of the cloak or rustle of cloth.

The eyes watched emotionlessly as the man was killed by a stranger. The human was of little interest, but this new arrival seemed… intriguing. He was obviously a vampire; if the blood-drinking was not proof enough, the lack of the smell of perspiration or sound of a heart beat was.

The man soon ceased moving as his blood was drained. The figure leaped down from the ledge it had been perched on, landing lightly in a half-crouch. Straightening with a fluid, predatory grace, it simply stood there for a few moments, green eyes traveling up and down the vampire’s form. Finally, a female voice emerged from the depths of the hood. “Interesting,” the voice said. It was low a smooth, with a hint of a purr to it. Her smirk was almost audible. “A bit messy, but not without a certain flair.”

Invisible nostrils flared, and the figure cocked her head. There was no scent of Belatucadrus on this one. It seemed odd that the vampire lord would allow another that was not his sireling in his city.

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

Venomously green eyes flecked with red shot up to look at the new arrival, suddenly aware that he was in the midst of a dead body and being caught with it. He immediately regained his composure, forcing despair into his eyes, "Miss, you have to help me!" An almost begging tone was in his voice, "This poor man is dying, he's lost alot of blood! We need to get him help, quick!"

He had no clue as to if the lie would work, he also wasn't aware that she had seen him kill the man. Morsereg rose with the body in his arms, "He needs medical treatment quickly!" He put up a spell to try and divert her attention away from his pale complexion and glassy nails, depending on how weak her mind was.

[Alalia Morrigan]

The figure shook her head slowly, in an almost pitying gesture. "A nice try, vampire," she said. The vampire's spell had no effect on her, and not just because of her strong will. When she had been created, her mind had been left incomplete, containing only the parts that her creator had desired. No imagination or anything of the sort had been given to her. "But if you think I'm going out of my way to help a human, you are sorely mistaken."

With that, she allowed her hood to fall back, revealing her other feline features. Furry, pointed ears stuck out from the side of her head, and her nose was that of a cat, not a human. Her smirk made her sharp, elongated eye teeth visible, and her tail thrashed about, as though it had a mind of its own.

"Besides," the cat-girl added in a bored tone, crossing her arms, "You're the one who killed him. Even if you really did want to save him, it would be far to late for that. You tore out part of his throat. I saw you do it." She gestured vaguely towards the body. "So why don't you put that thing down and drop the act."

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

Morsereg let out a low hiss before dropping the body and kicking it to the side, "You saw me, eh?" He smirked gently, looking up at the sky for a mere moment, "Haven't been seen kill anyone in a long time. No, not since my parents," He spoke the last part softly to himself, a slightly out-there tone resonating in his voice. He focused again, and let all illusions drop. Despair faded away from his eyes, leaving the venom green and red eyes almost hollow. Something changed in his stance, as well. In seconds his entire demeanor had changed, from that of a noble attempting to fool a passerby into thinking they cared for a dead man, to that of a demonic animal, always on the hunt.

"So, what are you, exactly?" He rose an eyebrow in question, "Some sort of...cat creature, or something?" Morsereg's eyes traced over her catlike features with interest. "Never seen anything of your kind, before."

He was simply talking to buy time. His eyes secretly scanned her body for any weaknesses that may have been apparant, should she attempt to run and report him to the City Guard. If she could not keep her mouth shut about this night, he would have to silence her himself.

[Alalia Morrigan]

The cat girl returned the vampire's gaze, studying him even as he studied her. She smirked slightly when he stopped pretending and showed his true nature. "Something like that," she replied, her eyes never leaving the man before her. "I didn't have much say in the matter, in any case."

Suddenly, the luminous green eyes flicked up to meet the vampire's cold gaze. "Are you finished with that, then?" she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the corpse, her eyes never leaving his. The smell of blood in the air was making the animal in her stir, clawing and fighting to surface and take control. She forced it back, but it refused to quiet.

"I won't mention your... food of preference to the gaurds," the cat girl said suddenly. "If it had been a clumsy or inept kill, one of luck, I might have reported it. However, you made a clean kill, one worthy of a predator like yourself. You deserve the spoils of your hunt." Her tone was slightly arrogant as she passed judgement on the vampire. However, it was as closed to a compliment as one would ever get from her.

Finally, she thought to herself. A predator that realizes its own nature, not like that fool of a woman, protecting that human. What killer protects what should be its prey?

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

Morsereg hid the smirk that would have normally come from the comment. He nodded, "The body will be gone before the night's end. It'll be as if he had just...dissapeared, so to speak."

He walked over to the body, knocking it a bit further into the shadows should a foolish passerby feel to inspect. "I thank you, then, I guess, for keeping my "food of preference", as you put it, secret from the guards. I've lived for many years masquerading as a noble to lie low. I can't let that cover be blown."

There was something about this...cat-girl, if he could call her that, that intrigued him. She was...different, and not just in physical appearance. Almost as if...she had not come into this world following the natural order of things.

[Alalia Morrigan]

The cat-girl allowed her smirk to deepen a bit at the vampire's comment. "Disappeared, indeed," she repeated. She often used such phrasing in reference to her victims. Even though she was only supposed to kill illegal mages, there were always possible 'accidents' or 'misunderstandings', especially in an assassin's line of work.

The woman glanced at the body as he kicked it into the shadows. "A noble, are you, then?" she asked, raising a slender eyebrow. "I would think your kind would prefer to assume a role that allowed them to avoid unwelcome attention when hiding what they are. How do explain your aversion to the sun, or your lack of heart beat or body heat to any lady friends of yours, hmm?"

In the back of her mind, the cat-girl noted that the vampire before her must not be terribly old, to have lived among others and not have his strang lack of aging noticed. With vampires, power came with age, so this one must be fairly weak compared to Belatucadrus. She wondered why the dark lord of Thar Shaddin allowed one not of his own to dwell in his domain.

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

He listened silently as she repeated his terminology as to what would become of his victim. As he surveyed this cat-girl, he felt something positively...murderous about her nature. He would have to keep a slight eye on this one, make sure he wouldn't soon be taking a trip into the sun on her wish.

"Any ladies that get close to me don't have long enough to notice my body heat and heartbeat, or lack thereof. They are no different than any other person in the city. When I am in someone elses presence, a spell is put up. My pale skin...my unnaturally long and sharp nails...my lack of a heartbeat and body heat...they never come into notice. Most of the nobles in Marn are quite simple to fool, making my spell come quite easily."

"As for my aversion to the sun...None of the nobles know I reside in Marn around the clock. They know I live here, but I have different businesses to take care of during the daylight hours, in Shim and elsewhere. That's how it was when I was living in truth, and now that I am un-dead, it is no different." He smiled, "I've never been one to lay low."

[Alalia Morrigan]

The cat-girl nodded slightly as she listened to the vampire's explanation. "Humans are all weak minded, no matter what their place in society," she replied. "They are simply prey for those stronger, and all their grand notions of defending themselves just make the kill more satisfying. But surely you know that already," she added with a jerk of her head in the direction of the corpse.

She briefly wondered why the vampire had allowed her to see him as who truly was, if he used spells and other such trickery on humans. Perhaps he had tried, and her will had been stronger. From what she understood of any sort of mind-control, in the end it simply came down to a matter of will. Perhaps her's had simply been stronger, or at least stronger than he had been expecting.

"Will he be your only victim tonight?" the cat-girl asked suddenly. "I have come across others like you that drain entire families without slaking their thirst. You don't seem that caught up in bloodlust, but one can never be sure." Though she never would have told the vampire, he was rather entertaining to watch hunt. It had been a long time since she had seen a good kill that was not of her own doing.

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

He nodded, "In the end, humans are nothing but meat to be devoured. They are in this world to serve us...a higher breed. They are here to keep us in this plane of existence. Nothing more."

"My thirst is far from fulfilled. There may yet be another kill in the night, I can not tell. If the opportunity arose the entire city would be drenched in blood before I get close to having my thirst sated. Yet I refrain, for I must not bring too much of an attention to my kind." He gazed casually around the alleyway.

"When the need arises I kill whole families, but I much prefer to pick them off one-by-one. This man was only the begininng. Tommorow evening I shall visit his home, and kill one family member before the eyes of the rest. This shall be repeated, until the last one standing has had their mind so twisted and shattered they do not even see me coming. That, in itself, is the greatest thrill of the hunt. Smashing to the ground the minds of my victims, destroying their mental stability. They scream for hours, almost wishing for it all to end yet at the same time not," He grinned maliciously in a way that exposed his brilliantly white teeth.

"It is the most exquisite of tortures, breaking ones mind. No physical torture beats it, although a few come quite close."

[Alalia Morrigan]

The cat girl raised her eyebrows as she listened to the vampire speak. It seemed that she had underestimated his maliciousness. However, a smirk slowly began to creep across her face as her expression transformed into something that could be called sinister delight, but happiness had not been included when she had been created. She could only feel anger, a need for vengence when she was wronged, a predatory thrill when she hunted, and lust. The rest of the time she was governed by apathy.

"I will not argue against mental torture being the worst, but I fear I don't have the patience for it," she said, running her tongue along her own fangs. "When I hunt, I want to feel my claws in my victims flesh, want them to know that I am taking their life, want to see their dispair as the light of life flickers from their eyes. Perhaps it's the animal in me."

The cat girl removed her leather gloves and thrusted them casually through her belt. Flexing and unflexing her fingers, she watched as her claws extended and retracted, feeling them slide against her skin. Even though her rapier always remained sheathed on her hip at the ready, she favored her natural weapons. Well, perhaps 'natural' wasn't the best word. Her existance in and of itself defied the laws of nature.

The woman's eyes flicked over in the direction of the corpse. The coppery scent of blood was wafting from the body and reawakening her feral desire to hunt, making her ears flick about as she listened for any possible prey.

[Morsereg Dindaedel]

"Well, as I see something seems to be...stirring in you, I shall depart," Morsereg laughed softly, giving something resembling a curt bow as he picked up the corpse. "Good Evening," He nodded before resuming the pose of a distressed noble and began running down the alleyway with the man in his arms.

Any guards he would meet along the way simply were told that his friend had had alot to drink and had been bitten by a dog of some sort. Morsereg knew a bit about medical treatments and would patch him up in due time when they arrived back at his home. This kept any guards out of his way as he returned to his home to avoid the sun.

Morsereg slowed as his home came into view, one long hand grasping the door and thrusting it open. He stepped in, to be engulfed in blackness. Slowly he stepped into the basement, where he propped the body up in a chair. He removed from a shelf a large knife, stained with dried blood years old. Into the man's neck he dug, carving a straight line through until the head dropped onto the floor with a sickening 'plop'.

A smirk crawled across his features as he kicked the head into the corner to join the others, all in various states of decay. With a look to the locked basement entrance, he slid into his coffin, and thus began his sleep-like state.

[Frug]

(Assuming this thread is closed.)