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  1. #1
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    EXP: 400, Level: 1
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    Level completed: 20%,
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    One Thread in a Tapestry's Avatar

    GP
    300

    Name
    Lyric White-Hook
    Age
    ???
    Race
    Vampire
    Gender
    Androgynous Male
    Location
    Salvar

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    Nothing Stays Forever- The Catalyst of Change

    These cold lands, bereft of life, are oddly beautiful. Having arrived here by the port of Tirel like so many other refugees, Lyric would come to discover that Salvar was a truly gigantic place. So large was it that finding signs of civilization was met with surprise and wonder that eclipsed the paranoia and caution that they normally invited in his mind. Though he had lost track of time for precisely how long it had been since he arrived here, once more trying to find peace among the vastness, he could rely on the phases of the moon and how hungry he became to tell.

    Too long, was the short of it. Sparse population, while safe for someone like him to reduce his chances of being discovered, also meant fewer opportunities. It also became clear that these lands were shockingly dangerous to travel alone in. Bands of brigands, orcs, and the occasional wild beast hampered his journey of aimless wandering, slowing all progress as he explored whatever trail or path he came across among the deep snow. But that was good; His hunger could be more easily ignored. Damnable thirst, ever present in his mind, drowned out over the need to hide from dangerous encounters. A skill he was supernaturally proficient at through no awareness of his own, his obfuscation kicking in as he would desperately panic, hiding from close encounters unaware he had effectively rendered himself invisible.

    He would travel during the day, covered head to toe to shield him from the sun, and continue at night. No need to stop, no need to sleep. Eventually though, as the often beautiful and savage wilderness provided an ever pleasant and frightful sight, the discovery of more used roads and guarded traders of the Red Hand hinted he was nearing somewhere. It was this, a simple tavern on a beautiful mountain range among the trees of this path, that he finally decided to take his chances.

    Lyric, through the kindness of others and luck (had anyone asked him), arrived at an opportune time and place it seemed. The innkeep, a beautiful young Urodin, was no stranger to strangers entering her warm place to stay among the cold. Despite Lyric's close guardedness, and not showing his face at first, she was welcoming to him. Many, after all, had reasons to be on guard in these dangerous lands. The fact that he was traveling alone, if anything, only made his behavior expected.

    Lyric's intentions were to stay for a time here and gather information about where he was and keep an ear out for further opportunities while things seemed safe. But, instead, he accidently made himself, well... Useful. At times, they were alone in this tavern inn, and he would just observe her working. He did not eat or drink; It left for plenty of time to mingle. But while he was so guarded, she had no qualms speaking her mind. It started with her expressing frustration at her record keeping. How difficult it was running the kitchen and inn all alone out here. There was never time to sure up her papers without losing sleep, and if she wanted to remain in good standing with the Red Hand traders and their inherit safety, it was a compounding problem to have.

    But... Lyric could read and write. Very well in fact. He inquired what exactly she needed done; To respond to letters, write them, and most importantly keep a written leaguer of clients and exchanges. She also expressed the want to keep a record like a diary of sorts, talking about the going-ons of interesting people and events that happened in her tavern. This inn was popular, she assured him, and it felt like such a waste to rely on memory for all the amazing people that came in here.

    Perhaps he could help?

    So, in exchange for free lodging, this inn and tavern had it's own personal scribe. Odd, yes, but Lyric immediately set about it. He was given his own desk, and ink, and became comfortable. Anytime someone would come in, he'd write it down. Any drink, he'd write it down. Any fun or wayward request, he'd write it down. The owner of this place, named Annie, was so thankful. And, to be frank, so was Lyric. This was sort of... Peaceful.

    It started so small. Sitting there, constantly writing, receive gratitude and his own room. She would even bring him food, to which he thanked her for and... Unfortunately, had to discreetly dispose of. But it was still a kind gesture. So much so, he dared tone down his coverings... No longer hiding his face behind a hood and mask, but just caked with a tan earthy skin tone make up he would expertly apply each day. It always took so much make up, especially for darker skin tones, as it contrasted so starkly against the cold death he naturally was, but it was worth it. He was excellent at using it, and from the moment he saw his face, she never took it as the lie it was. She even expressed pleasant surprise. It was nice.

    This place, he would learn, did have occasional regulars. Nigh everyone travelled, and the closest thing to an actual 'regular' this place had were those who simply made it a point to have this place be a stop as they passed by. One set that came in roughly once a week was a father and his small children, a set of twins, that immediately took an interest in the new scribe at the back of the tavern. Lyric, never having so much warm attention before, and for the sake of his disguise, was kind to them and taught them how to spell their names. They seemed to like just watching him write, his handwriting impeccable, and eventually were having him write letters for them to take on their journey before they left.

    This, too, eventually bloomed into business for Annie. A legible scribe? This far away from the cities? People got word, and some would come in just to have Lyric make copies of papers or even entire books for them to retrieve later. Annie began charging them, and it just became another avenue of income.

    For Lyric, this was the closest thing to normalcy he had ever experienced. He got to read the books he copied, and loved it. He would write and write and write, and see and meet so many people, but lost the worry that came with frequently being seen. This was starting to feel like home. But, never quite completely. After all, there was always, at the back of his mind, the hunger of the beast. One he so desperately was ignoring. This was the best situation he'd found himself in since leaving Lornius; He could not let it be for nothing by succumbing. Though, he had to admit, sometimes it was very difficult to hide, especially when people who he could smell had high quality blood flowing through them visited.

    Though Lyric had found something akin to peace in this tavern, carving out a nice little niche as a freelance scribe in this no-where place, the battle against his inner starvation was only growing more difficult... And, little did he know, a separate force was about to influence the path his life takes from here.
    Last edited by One Thread in a Tapestry; 06-01-2022 at 09:29 AM.

  2. #2
    Newcomer

    EXP: 400, Level: 1
    Level completed: 20%, EXP required for next Level: 1,600
    Level completed: 20%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,600


    One Thread in a Tapestry's Avatar

    GP
    300

    Name
    Lyric White-Hook
    Age
    ???
    Race
    Vampire
    Gender
    Androgynous Male
    Location
    Salvar

    View Profile
    "Lyric, could you read back the ledger from this morning? Do we got any rooms open for the morn'?" Annie asked, arms busy with scrubbing the tables, talking across the room to her little scribe. But, as she was left hanging bereft of an answer, she had to look up from her task. "Lyric?"

    Lyric, from his desk, was resting his head on a hand... Staring, blatantly, longingly, at the bard all the way across from where he was seated. Lyric, you see, had always been utterly entranced by music. He was like a mouse following ever piper who played, and this piper in particular was... Spectacular. In more ways than one. It was as if a spell had reached him through his ears. He was not sure why he was like this. It was certainly not a vampire thing, he didn't think. But damn if his heart didn't get wrapped up in every who-ha with a beautiful singing voice. But, it wasn't just the sheer talent of this man. Even his beast had something to eye up. This guy was handsome beyond compare, and muscular, and healthy. All great traits that make for higher quality blood that could sustain him even longer than normal people. It was something parallel to lust for him. Between the music and the man, Lyric was charmed beyond reason. And, beyond words, apparently.

    The bard was not new. Not even the song. He came in at least once a month to come play, usually serenading any women in the joint. Some even come just because he's there. But that didn't stop Lyric from doing this ever single time either.

    A snap near his ear,
    "Lyric." She had crossed the room completely without his notice. Even from beside him, dispelling this would prove difficult.

    Lyric stirred. Barely. His eyes didn't leave the bard."... Hm?"

    "Any rooms for the morn'?" Annie asked again, more directly, in his ear.

    "... Mmm."

    After a pause, Annie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smirk on her face. This lad looked like he was madly in love, and at this point couldn't even hide it. "You know, I could always invite him over here. You lookin' thirstier than a dry sponge from across the room just gets sadder to watch every time."

    To that, Lyric seemed to react, eyes widening and breaking his stupor as he turned his head in disbelief at her. She had no idea how right she was in her phrasing. "What!? No, I-I'm fine! Why would you say that!?"

    "It's okay." She reassured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not your mother, you don't gotta pretend in front of me."

    Once again, Lyric in his ever present paranoia read far too into what she was saying. Did she know!? No way, right? "W-What do you mean 'pretend'? I'm not pretending anything!"

    "Oh, I can tell. It's all over your face." She offered a gentle smile. "I'll stop teasing you. Thanks for all you do again Lyric." With a knowing nod, she stepped away from him, leaving the vampire feeling both stunned and reified at the same time. He wanted to open his mouth, to thank her in turn, but her insinuations had him baffled. What could he say to that? What did she think of him exactly? Annie has been truly amazing to him all this time here, but she'd never suggest anything like that before. He always kept to himself if he could manage it. Though, perhaps, that was exactly why she had said something.

    For all his time here, he was alone an awful lot. Normal people would go stir crazy. He was in a tavern, a social setting, and the three people he talked to the most was her and two little kids. He was in a shell, and would be best if he came out. Though, Annie could never have known to what extent that shell covered him. To her, he was just a bit of a loner odd-ball who turned out shockingly competent. Glad to have him, really, but it wasn't in her nature not to help those around her.

    Recovering in time from Annie's interruption, with a little embarrassment & trepedation Lyric gawked a little more subtly at the bard again, enjoying the song. He sung the same damn thing everytime he came here and found girls. A song he had long become familiar with at this point, watching him serenade a young lady at her table...

    A young man walked through the forest,
    With his quiver and hunting bow~
    He heard a young girl singing...
    And followed the sound below~
    There he found the maiden...
    Who lives in the willow~

    A song about a man who finds a tree spirit who he tries to seduce. He would sing it so sweetly, so serenely, so well it was like magic in Lyrics' ears. The women too. He had yet to notice a single one who didn't follow him out the door once he got to it.

    'Come with me my maiden,
    Come from thy willow bed...'
    She looked at him serenely,
    And only shook her head...

    See me now...
    A ray of light in the moondance~
    See me now...
    I cannot leave this place~


    The fae spirit would insist she could not go with him, that she could not leave her tree. But in the song the man would return, with flowers, and declare his love further. This part, Lyric loved, not because of the themes but rather a fun little quirk the bard would do: Personalize it for the lady he was seducing.

    A young man walked through the forest,
    With a flower and coat of green~
    His love had hair like fire,
    Her eyes, an emerald sheen...
    She wrapped herself in beauty;
    So young and so serene~


    Holy shit he was so good. Granted, having heard this so many times, he realized he wasn't THAT clever. He always commented on their hair color, and called them pretty and stuff, but... Damn if he didn't sound so good doing it, this could be forgiven. The song, from there, goes into once again how he would be the spirit's groom, but the spirit always declines, going into that wonderful chorus...

    See me now...
    A ray of light in the moondance~
    See me now...
    I cannot leave this place~

    See me now...
    Don't ask me,
    To follow where you lead...


    And it's about here that he strums away as they both, every time, at the same time, get up and he plays them both out of the tavern with his rapturous voice. As the music fades off out the door, Lyric feels the emptiness it leaves behind and, spell broken, sighs. It's always so sad to see him leave, but at least he can get some more work done. Coming back down from having his head in the clouds, Lyric takes out a little mirror. It's such an innocuous item, Annie never questioned him why he needs it, but in truth it's to compulsively make sure he hadn't rubbed off any of his make up in his day dreaming.

    Apart from the bard's welcome visit, today would be a very average day. But, that is good. If an average day is a peaceful day, then for Lyric, that is something always worth holding precious. If this could only be his new average, then maybe, he could pretend his life is nice and normal for once. Apart from the need to disguise himself, and the slow, but sure losing battle with his own blood starvation, he would do whatever he must to hold on to these sweet precious days while they were here. He dare say, he even had a friend in Annie. The first one to his knowledge. But, even a friend could never know of his true nature.

    Oh, but how long could he keep this up? How long before he absolutely had to do SOMETHING about more blood?

    As it turned out, he wouldn't need to wait long...
    Last edited by One Thread in a Tapestry; 06-01-2022 at 09:25 PM.

  3. #3
    Newcomer

    EXP: 400, Level: 1
    Level completed: 20%, EXP required for next Level: 1,600
    Level completed: 20%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,600


    One Thread in a Tapestry's Avatar

    GP
    300

    Name
    Lyric White-Hook
    Age
    ???
    Race
    Vampire
    Gender
    Androgynous Male
    Location
    Salvar

    View Profile
    The ever handsome bard returned the following week. Right on schedule.

    Lyric always silently looked forward to his arrival, eager to hear his song again from across the room like a lazy admirer. He never could quite place what exactly the bard was, not familiar with things beyond his reading and writings. Which was a lot, no doubt, but he hadn't read much about obvious physical traits people just kind of assume everyone knows about. He looked human, but with pointed ears, like a high elf, but... Not quite. An oddity, for sure, but he dare not ask. If people didn't want to speak to him, he would not speak to them first without good reason. It was all just a normal part of laying low, even in a safe place like this.

    But, today there was not really any fine ladies in sight. They had been growing a little sparse, coming less and less frequently over the last few weeks. Lyric assumed it had to do with increased banditry, or even worse weather. In any case, it was quiet in the tavern today. Just Annie, himself, and this nameless bard he so admired. As a result, it made it easy for him focus on his work, making copies of pages for a book he had made his own project, ignoring the hunger in his stomach. Though, admittedly, that was getting worse. His pen strokes, immaculate, were moving slower. He was feeling legitimately tired more often, needing to actually lay down and pseudo-sleep during the night like a regular person.

    But, it was in this quiet contemplation where he noticed Annie go and mutter something to the bard. Lyric took notice from the corner of his vision, curious, but not wanting to pry. Hopefully she was asking him to sing regardless, he hoped.

    Oh, if only it were only that.

    Instead, the bard picked up his lyre, and strode him way across the room. To... Lyric's desk. Lyric, immediately, looked up at him with wide eyes. Looking like a deer caught in the light of a sudden flame, the bard had came right up to where he did his work and, boldly, took a seat right on his desk. Lyric felt his unbeating heart in his throat; He'd never seen this man this close before, and it stirred the beast in him. Holy shit he was a specimen. A real tall drink of blood, to be sure. When he realized they had locked eyes, the bard showed nothing but calm confidence, not a hint of apprehension. Charismatic bastard. Of course the bard would be a master at this.

    Lyric, feeling like he was going to pass out briefly from the sudden rush, flapped his jaw to speak but... Nothing came out. Instead, the opening strum of the lyre, louder than ever, instantly reached his ears.

    He could have melted.

    A young man walked through the forest,
    With his quiver and hunting bow~
    He heard a young girl singing...
    And followed the sound below~

    Goodness, this was it. Literal music to his ears, and Lyric got a front row seat for it. Indeed, it was for him. He never would have dared asked for this, but as his voice reached the young vampire, all he could do was fall head over heels again. Utterly spellbound, Lyric lost all composure, and stared longingly at the man on his desk, watching him strum and feeling the vibrations of the singing. The song was as beautiful to him as it ever was, but getting to have it performed directly to him? As a private performance? Lovely. Now he knew exactly how all those women felt.

    It went on, serene note by serene note. A feeling like weightlessness came over Lyric, truly enraptured by it all, shameless in his admiration. He loved music so much, and this felt unparalleled. Each chorus and verse drew him in until it felt like there was nothing else in this world apart from himself... And the bard. Romantic, even, though honestly those kinds of feelings to him were indistinguishable from the desire to feed on someone. And boy, did he want a bite out of him. As the world around him melted away, the 'personalized' verse arrived...

    His love had hair of ebon,
    Her eyes an beautiful sheen...
    She kept herself so silent~
    So young and so serene~

    Lyric's legs moved without him needing to ask first. He never actually imagined himself being in this position, but hell, this bard could take him anywhere he wanted at this point if he kept those vocals going. Truly, the rest of the world was dead to him. He didn't even see where he was walking once the bard came down from the desk, leading him away. Lyric, a mouse to this piper. As the lyrics of the song gave way to beautiful notes, Lyric himself lost all track of time and self amid the miasma. The only hint he had that they had reached outside was the sudden change in temperature.

    He stood there under the willow,
    And he gave her the yellow bloom...
    'Girl my heart you've captured,
    Oh I would be your groom'~


    In the march and within his lost mind, for the briefest moments reality came rushing back to him, tripping slightly on a root. Wait, a root? Lyric, for the first time in who knows how long, blinked. He saw it; They were outside. Among trees. How did they get here? How long as they been walking? The sky was dark, thank goodness, he hadn't even put his hood up in all this cold snow. Still, there was no alarm from him. His legs kept going. Perhaps, this was simply the way to the bard's home?

    She said she'd wed him ne-ever,
    Not near, nor far, nor soon~ Oohoh~

    See me now...

    A ray of light in the moondance~

    Wait a moment; Did that line come from somewhere else? Briefly, Lyric thought he heard that singing coming from somewhere other than the bard himself. Somewhere among the trees.

    See me now...
    I cannot leave this place~
    Hear me,
    Hear me,
    A strain of song in the forest...

    Yes... That definitely was coming from around them. Becoming more aware by the moment, the spell shaking loose, the world around him was quickly becoming more clear. The strangeness of this all, becoming more obvious to him as they walked.

    Don't
    Ask
    Me...
    To follow where you lead~

    These disparate voices, they were coming from the trees. Lyric finally came to a stop, the bard in tandem, and as his senses returned quickly to him, he could see clearly his surroundings. And, hear the echoes.

    See me now...
    See me~
    A ray of light in the forest...


    There was no home here. No shelter from the cold. Just... Wilderness. An untamed snowy clearing, isolated for the wider world. The piper had lead his mouse into this remote place, away from all prying eyes. And the singing... The singing-! Lyric had never noticed them before. There was so much snow here, it blanketed absolutely everything, the trees included. But the movement of mouths... Visages all around them. Singing, independant of the bard's now quiet lyre. And... The sight of them...

    A young man
    walked
    through the forest~

    Women, pinned against the trees. Frozen, long dead, many partially covered by the snow. All, in their own turn contributing to the chorus to make a beautiful, haunting symphony. Horrible, rotting, kept preserved by the freezing weather. Frozen, empty eyes, still... Singing their terrible parts like puppets on unseen strings. Had Lyric had a beating heart, this might of stopped it. The whimsy was gone. There were so many...

    With an axe
    sharp as
    a knife~


    And he himself, between a barren tree... And the quiet bard.

    I'll take the ebon eyed fairy,
    And she shall be my wife...

    With her I'll raise my children~

    This was horror. Horror the likes Lyric had never seen. The bard, who's voice had been silent in these woods, produced a long sharp sword from somewhere on his person as Lyric froze in abject terror. The sword... These women-!

    With her, I'll live my life~

    Lyric, lungs frozen, found himself paralyzed before it all. This was such a horrible
    scene, how could he- no, ANYONE be prepared for it? His mind set to stalling trying to process it all. He remained in utter disbelief right up to the moment the bard thrusted heartlessly forward, and completely ran him through. The sound of the blade hitting the tree behind Lyric was such a biting sound for all it meant, pinning him to it, creating a horrible effigy as the sudden burning and intense pain rang through him like lightning. Lyric's eyes turned red, the shock of pain a revelation of his senses, mouth open in a mock gasp, but... The blade took even that away from him. With cold steel in his chest, the bard muted Lyric of his last breath. And, instead of words or howling, only blood came up. A blow that would surely kill any mortal...

    The maiden wept when she heard him~
    When he said he'd set her free...


    A part of the song Lyric had never heard. That no one but these many dead had heard, likely, from the scene around him. Lyric, panicking, shocked, instinctively tried to grab the blade that was buried into his torso, the icy metal matching his own cold grasp, as blood soaked his clothes behind him and ran down the cracks of the bark of the tree behind him. His own.

    He took his axe and used it~
    To bring down her ancient tree~


    But the bard, showing such callous and unfeeling, pushed the blade it deeper. Lyric was unable to scream, though he so badly tried. The murderer kept hold of the blade's handle with one hand, stepping past it, getting intimately close as he stared into Lyric's shocked and horrified face. Close enough to kiss him, to feel his warm breath on his cold cheek. His fangs, they didn't matter. HE didn't matter. Not to the bard. As Lyric struggled and spasmed, looking up into this murderer's face, he could see something horrible behind the bard's eyes: The pleasure. The killing intent. The look of promise and knowing; Knowing Lyric was doomed. He, too, joined into the chorus again...

    Now your willow's fallen...
    Now you
    Belong
    To me...

    The others, pinned against their trees, harmonized beautifully with him. Their death lullaby, to serenade off another soul. To welcome it into the chorus. His soul forfeit, his future stolen. Another frozen victims to pin up with the others. Off an unknown trail, if the middle of a savage land of no-where.

    Or, that's how this likely would have ended. No doubt, this was the final moments of so many that found themselves here. Lured in by a talented bard's rapturous song, and pinned up on a tree. This terrible frozen hell was the unwitting death ground to this monster. Lyric, well, would have joined one of many...

    But, he had already died long ago.

    Pained, desperate sounds barely irked from his throat as his eyes remained their deep crimson, his pupils flickering into slits while in his death throws. The sword, it wouldn't budge, not with the bard holding it. This felt so... Helpless. He was no fighter... He knew, now, he should be traveling with others more capable. He knew, he had grown too complacent here. His guard had faltered from the comfort. How could he have gone with this man? He never would have done anything like this before. He knew this couldn't of lasted. He knew... Nothing stays forever.

    This wound, it would not be sufficient to kill a vampire. As much as he hated what he was, as much as he ran away from it... It would be the one factor that would put and end to this terrible thing. Lyric reached out, hands shaking, as if reaching for some last moment's affection or final plea from this murderer before death finally took him. The bard, so close already, so sure, didn't bother to move. Let the dying fool embrace him in his last moments, as they all did.

    Until Lyric's fangs sunk into his neck.

    The bard, no doubt having done this so many time already, probably was sure it was over. This all was so elegant, after all. To sing for them as they died... To claim them, the way the willow fairy had been. The fairy had no choice. Nor would any of them. So, the fact that this stab was not fatal, and that, in fact, this had been a vampire simply was never a thing that he could have ever predicted in this highly practiced performance of his. The bard, showing some kind of shock for the first time, briefly seemed to realize too late he was bitten... Before his eyes glazed over and his face turned to blush. The euphoria and relaxing effect sapped all strength from him so quickly, by the time he knew he should move, it was too late. Lyric desperately wrapped his arms around the man, wincing from the effort as he he kept his fangs buried deep as they could go... Clinging from desperation, and survival. He had never done something like this, biting someone in self defense, but then again... He'd never allowed himself to be in a position like this before either.

    As much as his death grip was desperate, it was unnecessary. The rapidly weakening bard began to slump, and very quickly, couldn't stand on his own, falling back enough to pull the blade out from the tree with their combined body weight. Lyric's eyes were shut so tight, he could focus on nothing but holding on, even as they both fell to the ground. Sword still within him, he drank... And he drank deep.

    Oh, sweet nectar. Ah, such succor. There really was nothing like it. If this had been under any other circumstance, this would have felt like an act of love to Lyric, such were the feelings this summoned. But, this was no such act this time. He was scared; Panicking. This man tried to murder him. He couldn't just... Take what he needed. He would just get back up and do this again. No, he had to keep drinking... A wonderful, horrible thought. But, he did. He kept drinking. Far, far more than he ever had before.

    Lyric never killed anyone before. He refused that part of himself that said to drink them up completely. There was no need, and it felt so savage. He hated that he had to do this for sustenance. But, for this? In self defense? This murderer? He could, no, MUST do this till it's bitter end.

    By the time Lyric could get no more out of him, he had done the longest drink he ever had. He had no idea people had so much blood to give. And, he was indeed delicious. Amazing. Like honey. It made him sick to enjoy it as much as he did. With the bard bled dry, Lyric finally pulled himself up from the man, quaking, feeling on the verge of tears. He killed somebody... Killed them like a beast would. The monster within him, the part that loved it, felt estatic... Stronger than ever. Oh, this could hold his hunger for so so long. But, for all Lyric worked to accomplish... This was the end of it all.

    Through pained and whining groans he withdrew the sword, all the fresh warm blood he just drank into himself briefly spilling out as he squeaked in pain. The hole in his chest made him sound congested, unable to properly whine or howl from the sensation of pulling a two-foot blade from himself. But, it clotted quickly. All this fresh, new, high quality blood would do it's work on the damage very swift without his input. He tossed it aside, sending it buried into the soft snow, and brought his hands up to look at them.

    They were covered in blood. Everything was. And past his hands, beneath him, the results of his actions.

    The bard looked... Shrunken. Drained. Horrible. The whole scene brought horrible memories of his beginning. That terrible, terrible place where he woke up a vampire with much the same looking corpses at his feet. Scared, confused, with a drained corpse beneath him. He wanted to scream. But, he couldn't even manage that as he quaked upon the corpse... Praying, pleading, among a forest of corpses into the ether. Praying to the sky, the snow, the others around him... For despite the fact that he was still here and breathing, deep down, he knew he was just as dead as any of the corpses that surrounded him now.

    Damnit all.
    Last edited by One Thread in a Tapestry; 06-01-2022 at 10:39 PM.

  4. #4
    Newcomer

    EXP: 400, Level: 1
    Level completed: 20%, EXP required for next Level: 1,600
    Level completed: 20%,
    EXP required for next Level: 1,600


    One Thread in a Tapestry's Avatar

    GP
    300

    Name
    Lyric White-Hook
    Age
    ???
    Race
    Vampire
    Gender
    Androgynous Male
    Location
    Salvar

    View Profile
    The door to the tavern swung open, bringing the wind and cold, and the usher that let them in.

    Inside, Annie was busy doing her last cleaning of the night. She had been quietly awaiting the return of her partner scribe, silently happy for him. The guy seemed like he could use some outdoors and sunshine after all. She had never asked about something like his orientation though. Running a tavern and inn, she learned long ago it was better not to ask and just take the obvious signs for what they appeared to be. And boy, was that guy thirsting over that bard. Hopefully, he had fun.

    "Lyric?" She called out, glancing over excitedly. the moment she saw his silhouette, she immediately made for greeting him. "Ah, so glad you're back! You-"

    Oh, how quickly tones changed upon laying eyes on the man. Lyric had this look of death and fear in his eyes like coming in from witnessing war. The poor man froze upon realizing she saw him. He looked to be in shock. Annie, shocked herself, stood unmoving as she blinked, as if the sight before her was a trick of her eyes. Her scribe, this gentle, quiet young guy, came back covered in blood and snow. So much of it too, particularly, on his chest and face. Being the first to break the stupor, Annie rushed to Lyric immediately with all the energy of a concerned mother and worried friend.

    "Oh gods- Oh-! What happened!?" She immediately grabbed him, Lyric staring at her like she had grown horns. He was scared of her. Well, sort of. His mind was still in a heightened state, moving so fast it drowned out the lingering pain in his chest from where he had been impaled to the tree. As he looked up at her, it waen't that he didn't know what to say. Rather, he didn't know what to say first. Her hands immediately traveled to his chest; "Are you hurt!? C'mon say something!" But, he wasn't responsive.

    For Lyric, he felt his dead heart beating as if it would in life. Panic. What could he say? How could he tell her? How could he phrase it in a way that still... Would allow him to remain here? To hide himself? What about all those poor dead people? All those guests who stayed here? He wrote down everyone in his book, they must all be there, right? What terrible thing possessed the bard and the corpses to sing? What horrors were in those woods? Was the bard even acting on his own volition? Had he killed someone innocent? Could he have gotten away? If he told her how to find the bodies, how could he explain how he escaped? What would everyone think of him? How could she believe him? How could he explain... The bite marks on the bard's neck?

    He could feel it... The spiraling feeling. This cascading sensation. The feeling of it all starting to come crashing down around him. That everything he loved here, it was all slipping away.

    Without realizing he had been standing there unresponsive, he felt her touch his face. While he was lost among his own mind, she had pulled out a cleaning rag, and set it to his face to wipe off the blood.

    "No-!!" He suddenly blurted out, eyes wide with terror, but Annie was quick and grabbed him by the chin.
    "Hush, just hold still."

    "NO!" Lyric swatted her hand off him in a panic, but... It was apparently too late. As he did, she had already gotten a spot of not only blood, but his own make-up off.

    "Calm down! You're in shock! Let me help..." She seemed to speak calmly in stark contrast to his own fearful tone. But, as she noticed the dark skin tone makeup that had rubbed off onto her rag, Lyric... Froze. He wanted to cry. He could only look her in the face, seeing the subtle movement of her eyebrows and expression. Confusion. Surprise. Inquisitiveness... Lyric didn't even resist, a growing ringing in his ears as she gently brought it back up to his face and took off some more. She dragged it gently over his visage, and as the make up came off, the white noise just got louder and louder. He could see Annie's face of confusion and concern and, with a rub that pulled back his cheek just a bit, she seemed to have spotted something else from his parted lips among the sickly white skin. Manipulating his face, pinching his cheek softly, she pulled the skin of his lips open a bit... And saw his pearly white sharp fangs.

    The look in her eyes as she saw them, putting dots together in her head, it broke Lyric's heart. All he worked for, shattered. She saw them. She saw him. The secret he worked so, so hard to hide and she knew now. The ringing in his ears became so so loud, he couldn't hear his own thoughts. It was over. It was all over. This... White noise. It was a manifestation of his fight or flight response. And he went into flight mode.

    He pulled away and ran. He could see her suddenly react, mouthing something, but he couldn't hear it above the noise. Above the fear. This familiar, unwelcome sensation that everything he took for granted here was finally over. Worse, this wasn't just him worried someone might suspect them and THEN making his way out. Oh no. This was straight up a reveal of his true nature. And, he had actually literally killed somebody.

    He bolted for his room. This was the kind of red-alert scenario he had always mentally had nightmares of, but this was real to him. He grabbed his backpack, and other meager things, and didn't even leave back through the door. Annie was already at his door just behind him, saying something he could not hear, and coming in to try and grab him but he was literally out the window before she could grasp him. He hit the snow, and just ran. Ran as fast as he could into the cold dark wilderness.

    He never heard Annie's words... But, she only ever wanted to help him.

    Lyric ran like death was chasing him. Ran like the world was disappearing behind him, as this white noise blared in his head. It blotted his senses, his mind; The countless thoughts that ran through his head were drowned and discarded, left behind with everything else. There was no need to salvage any of it, these ideas and strategies for how he could maybe, possible, by some slim margin maintain his little masquerade. He could not stay here. Not anymore.

    And with that, Lyric ran. Ran until the sun began to rise. His self obfuscation, unknown to him, activated as he ran in his manic state... Unwittingly hiding him from dangers in the night by covering his existence long enough to go by. Only the threat of the sun stopped him, the strong, amazing new blood fueling him from here until depleted. He could have chased the moon, had he only gone the opposite direction. Before the sun rose too high, he came across a partially frozen stream... Finally, sitting down to just stop.

    He silently went through his backpack... Fishing out a different jacket. A cloak to hide his head. A veil, to his his face. Snow goggles, to hide his eyes. It was time to, once again, go back into the cold and wild. Yet again, he could not stay. His 'condition' would not allow it. Looking down at the reflection of himself, utterly covered in the same gear he had first arrived in before feeling comfortable showing his face, it immediately made him think of Annie... Of the twins, and all the work she would have to do without him now.

    So many books left unfinished. So much weight she would have to take again. All because he got this illusion of grandeur. He thought he could just live here comfortably? How stupid.

    Vampires will never live comfortably. Not forever. Nothing does.
    Last edited by One Thread in a Tapestry; 06-03-2022 at 12:31 AM.

  5. #5
    Ice Ice Baby

    EXP: 22,697, Level: 6
    Level completed: 39%, EXP required for next Level: 4,303
    Level completed: 39%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,303


    Rehtul Orlouge's Avatar

    GP
    2,028

    Name
    Rehtul Orlouge
    Location
    Corone
    Thank you for your patience, here is your Judgment.

    Pros:
    As for the story, I quite like it. It was a good way to introduce your character and his gifts for mathematics and writing. This sets you up quite well for future quests needing intelligence and charisma.

    Cons:
    There were a couple of misspellings and grammatical issues. Other than that, you tended to relay the information you needed. If I could say anything you could have done with touching on the setting, your surroundings, a little bit more. However, overall I don't have very many complaints at this point.

    You are awarded 400 XP and 100 GP. Congratulations!

  6. #6
    Ice Ice Baby

    EXP: 22,697, Level: 6
    Level completed: 39%, EXP required for next Level: 4,303
    Level completed: 39%,
    EXP required for next Level: 4,303


    Rehtul Orlouge's Avatar

    GP
    2,028

    Name
    Rehtul Orlouge
    Location
    Corone
    EXP and GP added. Closing and archiving thread

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