A unexpected savior...? [Suravani's Oasis]

[The Bloody Son]

This is open for anyone who wishes to join in, by the way. ;D

A hand raised to the sky did little for the brilliant moonlight that shown between lithe, pale digits. Fragile eyes squinted as the boy emerged from the dark cave that lead into a gorgeous waterfall and lake. An oasis, indeed. The chocolate brown oculars beamed passed the gaunt forearm that blocked a small area of his peripherals to take in the scenery with a questionable brow raised.

"Where in the world am I...?" His voice was fluid and soft, full of wonder and confusion. One moment he was being chased by the people of a past village for accidentally feeding on one of their high council and the next moment he Shadow stepped and used a tremendous amount of energy to get as far away as possible - the most he'd ever used before and now Cellius had landed himself in a strange world he'd never encountered before. The lifted hand fell to his head, running through the sepia strands before his other arm arose. A smooth motion and the band was pulled from his wrist and his hair clumped together in a messy ponytail that loosely hung at the base of his neck.

Having moved from the maw of the abyss, Cell walked past the lake and looked into it's depths. His eyes pulsed softly and he made out the outlines of fish within the glassy waters, enjoying their generous colors. He wondered where he was again and began to fidget with his fingertips, hand in hand - picking at the cuticles. Cell was brave, but still young and the fear of the unknown was biting at the base of his spine; he needed to find anyone, now...

Ducking beneath the vegetation that surrounded this gorgeous lake and navigating his way to an animal path, Cell continued until the forest opened up to a massive field that stretched farther than the eye could see. His eyes widened to massive proportions as he looked from his right to his left to see nothing but grass and large roaming figures on the horizon. On the turn to his left, his eyes cocked wildly as he heard the sound of screams and smoke in the distant.

"... sounds like trouble, but at least there's civilization..." The youthful hemophagous advanced toward the smoke that rolled thickly over the hills.

[The Bloody Son]

"Hnm... nomads." The young VanGras' voice echoed with question and not much concern, as they weren't after him. He watched silently from the crest of the hill that moved no more than twenty or so yards from where a few stone-built homes were in flames. He looked to the fires, hearing the screams...

'Draco - DRACO!' The cries of his mother resounded within his consciousness. The blood curdling screams echoed off the walls of his skull. Cell felt the flames licking at his face as he covered his head, trying to escape unscathed. Her voice wasn't heard after a loud crash of rafters crumbling impacted behind the boy, yet he ran faster. The sweat from his brow stung his eyes. The scent of the burning flesh from the dead servants lined the long hallways...

Tears welled in Cellius' eyes as he blinked excessively staring at the flaming huts below him. "God Dammit!" The boy ran down the hill toward the village and saw four men on horse back chasing a little boy down, laughing and jabbing spears ruthlessly in his direction. The hill added velocity to his descending step and Cell took the burst forward to come parallel with the nomads. At the point of impact, the leader jabbed at the little boy and Cell snatched the end of the pole arm and flashed right in front of the horse. Pulling the pole from the left side of the horse to the right side with his forceful step, the man holding on squawked loudly as he fell off the horse and the other two men pulled reigns hard to keep from trampling their fearless leader.

He rolled around on the ground for a moment before dusting himself off and looking to the pallid frame that had caused his steed to flee in panic and leave him without a ride. His mangled, dirty face soured up quickly and he barked at the boy, "Who the hell are you? And what's up with your pale ass self? Don't you know who we are, boy?"

"Sir! We stole a few of the steeds, lets just get the hell out of here!"
"Shut up, you insolent coward! I'll teach this boy here a lesson! He'll not mess with the Khnash Tribe! AAGgHHHH!!"

With a lunge and a growling announcement of attack, the lead nomad jerked his blade from it's hungry sheath and swung from the removal point in a horizontal path. He was salivating with anger and reeked of death and body odor that caused Cell to sneer violently at his stench. He rolled clockwise while bringing the metal spear point to clash with the blade, rolling the horizontal motion upwards and throwing the large man's lunge off balance. With his back to the enemy, Cell turned swiftly, leveling out the spear and catching the large man's rush to the base of his skull.

The nomad coughed and fell to his knees from the blow - his mind wandering and world spinning in circles. The men on horses grew antsy at watching and before they could dismount, they watched the weird boy with curiosity. His movement was flawless and elegant as he came around to the back of his unskilled, barbarian of an opponent and grabbed a handful of his thick black hair. Snapping the man's head back, he gutturally whined and pleaded momentarily. Cell snickered and lunged from the side. His canines extended to their natural quarter-inch and sunk deeply into the man's carotid artery and jugular. Soundlessly drinking and without a drop missed, the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to tremble. His comrades eyes widened and the let the three following steeds go and yelped with terror, "Holy Shit! Vampires in these parts?!" His voice cracked nervously. The pulled the reigns back, completely spooked and with that, heavy galloping shook the ground as the nomad's fled, leaving their fallen commander.

Cell growled and released the man who would fall into a blood-drained coma within the hour. Grasping the nomad's jacket, Cell drug the man off into the distance up on the hill where he came from and dropped the man on the crest of the hill and then rammed his own spear through his heart, pinning him to the fertile earth below.

"Dick..."

Looking over his shoulder, the VanGras saw the boy, his mother, and a few remnants of the families standing around - their massive steeds having come back to them at their sides. They would watch him silently, sneaking back toward the waterfall cove to hide from the sun before it arose this very night...

[The Bloody Son]

The crimson and violet hues of the setting sun kissed the peaks of the trees and the warmth that shown through the cave entrance cause the boy to smile. The reflections of the sun's great beauty were all he'd ever seen of it's majesty and the grin on his face would seem priceless - such joy. Since the sun was now down, his nemesis was off to bring it's tyranny to another part of this great world and the boy emerged from his hiding to find a surprise. Cell paused - a little startled at first.

At the opening of the cave there was a live goat just standing there, munching away at a tuft of grass. There was a small piece of cloth draped across the beasts back and it's neck, from the strong jawline to the muscular shoulders was shaved completely off. Cellius couldn't help but laugh. Blood was blood and he was a little hungry.

Kneeling quietly beside the beast, Cell pet it's head softly and it murmured, as if it knew what was to come and was solemnly awaiting it's death. He smiled, shaking his head and spoke gently to the small animal.

"Naw, come now... I promise, you'll be fine. It doesn't hurt that bad and you wont die from it." Cell pushed his forehead to the goat's and it seemed to Bahh in comprehension, even though it was after all ... just a goat. With swift action and lack of time to panic, the boy latched to the mammal's neck and fed silently and without any mess. Quick and painless, the hollow fangs sucked the blood-life from the beast for a few moments and then released, leaving only two soft puncture wounds and the goat sat down - a little shaken up.

"See - that wasn't so bad. You need a name, if I'm gunna keep talking to you..." Cell stood up and moved from the entrance toward his path in thought, leaving the goat to be tied up with the grass and lake water near by. As he walked, he looked into the glowing green canopy where the sun was still prominent over the heavens above and kept this side of the world illuminated for a little longer. "What to name him... Hnmm..."

At the crest of the hill from the night before, the nomad was covered in stones with the spear still sticking straight down through him as a memorial and a burial for the Khnash people to see - their nomadic hunting leader had been single-handedly cut down by nothing more than a boy. It would keep them away from the Esseker and Deklan people from now on - until the grew braver. Until then - they feared the white demon.

This sight interested Cellius. These people honored the dead, even of their enemies, even though they killed a quarter of the people in the village. He stood puzzled at this, trying to understand how he could ever forgive the humans for destroying his family without cause or reason - Cell's young mind couldn't fathom the level of forgiveness. His concentration was broken by a yell of someone in the village, which turned his attention. Or rather, the attention was on him, as the one yelling was pointing in his direction and all eyes inside were on him.

They watched. He watched. The little boy waved and Cell instinctively raised his hand to wave a few times back and the boy jumped up and down in happiness, it seemed. With this, the workers went back to doing what they were doing. Cleaning. The debris, the rubble everywhere, the smoldering and scorched pieces were all being rebuilt, but during the previous raid - only three men were left out of the entire village and that was for every man was five women, excluding the children. The three men couldn't lift a beam into place across the top of a hut and gave up for the night, moving back into the inner circles of the village and eventually the night fell and no one was to be seen.

The boy had moved down the hill silently and into the edge of the village. A few dogs approached and with a gentle look, they took him as no threat and Cell moved freely, just looking and exploring. What made them so humble, yet so determined. The horses they had penned up were nearly three times his own height! He gasped at the demonic breed as a single mare approached him, looming over him like a titan. She sniffed his hair and whinnied with content and then moved back to finish her straw.

"Holy... that's so amazing..." Cell exclaimed in a whisper.

"... we breed them." Cell jumped into the fence and bounced off of it, startled. His senses were overcome by the gigantic steed that he hadn't even noticed the small woman who stood behind him. Her hair was matted into chords, much like dread locks and her face was a beautiful shade of dirty. Even though she was aged, Cellius could tell she was gorgeous in her day - he smiled, holding his chest. She raised a caring hand and he laughed.

"Forgive me. Typically, no one can sneak up on me like that..."

"It's alright, my son - these Fallien steeds can possess a man's soul because of their enormous size. My name is Mya and my son, Jakob is the boy you saved... I just wanted to thank you sincerely. From the bottom of my heart."

Cell looked down with a half smile. She'd called him son ... and was the boy's mother. "I... I... it was nothing."

"Maybe to you, dear boy. But to a mother, it means the world. You're so young ... where is your family, Young Master Vampire...?"

"Please, Mya - call me Cell and I am no one's master. Like your family, mine too was burned in their homes a year past. I'm the last of my lineage..." He gave a half smile and nodded to the woman.

"I'm sorry for your loses, Cell. My husband was killed in the battle last night as well..."

"Then why do you honor their dead?" Cell questioned, pointing to the hill top.

"We do this because we do not harbor hate. It's an evil seed in your heart to keep, my child. You must learn to let go. Only then will you truly be happy with your life. Those who have wronged you - it's in the past..."

He nodded slowly, understanding what she meant and he sighed. It would take time for that sort of transition, but for now he brushed it aside. His chocolate eyes looked back to the horse who came up to him.

"If you help us ... learn to ride, learn to take care of 'er, help us rebuild the village, she will be yours." Mya grinned as Cell's head snapped toward the woman with a brilliant look of excitement and he gleamed like a child.

"Seriously?! Ohwow... I will! I swear!" As mature as his race made him, the youth vibrantly rippled from his figure and beamed like the sun from his face.

[Audio, video, disco]

"Destente pedaeo, Sylisik Jala*," muttered the tall, broad shouldered figure that loomed over the cairn. "It is a pity you had to leave this world in such a way, my Master. I wonder if we shall ever meet again."

Voronkova's tail swished languidly as he contemplatively regarded the simple pile of stones, his skin almost black against the sinking fires of the sun finally settling deep into the desert basin.

"Death by scorpion." He snorted. "How ironic. And to think you were always the one haranguing me about emptying out my bedroll."



"You must promise me something..."

Her chest heaved painfully with every dry breath. It was...loud.

He clutched at her arm, rigid scales pressing sharply into his palm. She made a feeble attempt to sit up.

"Master, you must quit moving around and let me apply this salve! It will extract the venom which will only spread faster if --"

"Oh for the love of Jihila, Voron, shut up! I don't want to waste my last seconds tryin' to convince you just how useful that salve o'yours really is..."


Thin scaly lips twitched in a humourless grin. His trainer, mentor and friend of many years was gone, her physical form ruined beyond habitation within minutes after receiving the fatal sting. But her life force continued, he knew. Whether she lingered on this plain or the strange middle-world of Inferno he could not guess; Jala had always been a mysterious one, never mentioning her plans for the Afterlife, even when they had grown close. Yet, she had a curious soul that could easily be drawn beyond the veil. Surely nothing remained to entice her.

"Not even a warrior's death," he concluded sourly, finally turning from the impromptu grave. "An end denied you, my Master, as well as gentle Shirale...though through no fault of her own."


He had witnessed the demise of many. It never ceased to captivate him.

"Stormweb, listen."

The use of that hated name.

But he listened.

"Don't...condemn yourself to a life in the shadows. You must...live with honour...you must...uphold the Code."

Whispers.

Sadly, "Jala. I surrendered my honour long ago."

Her hand gripped his in a fleeting burst of her original strength.

Power fading.

"N-no. It has never left...it dwells in the memories...of those you have lost."

A weak laugh.


There was a calm, peaceful descending of night. Stars touched the ribbons of the day's last sombre colour at the edge of the horizon, soon to turn to inky blackness. Voronkova lifted his pack and slung it's considerable weight over his back, inhaling. The breeze flowed heavy with the sweet fragrance of some blooming desert orchid. Bats flitted erratically overhead and the cooling sand was nearly sensual in it's fineness of grain.


"Remember us, Stormweb!"


Voron hesitated, listening to the silence surrounding him, closing in on him.

"I will never forget."



/:\--=--/:\


He travelled the anti-road through the canyon, feeling as a sort of parasite picking it's way through the desolate gut of some long deceased animal. Menacing spirals of volcanic rock sprung at him like mutant growths from the weathered flanks of the great cliffs, teasingly possessing his mind with images of hidden foes. The raptor did not usually invite ambush in such a way as he was this night, hiking alone, albeit confidently, through the cavernous rift in the desert's hide. An attack could spring from any corner, but, really, why should he fret?

His appearance alone was normally enough for the wiser of the human dwellers in this part of Fallien to let him be. Herptians had a reputation with the locale, after all, and he couldn't deny not ever having tasted human flesh and, what's more, liking it. Voronkova did have a vague memory detailing what the irritatingly flighty apes were capable of, but it didn't bother him. He had only taken this route to bypass the settlement resting on the hillside nearby. His passage would go unnoticed --

"DIE, Khnash filth!"

There was an immense rumbling, snarling sound, and before he could turn around properly in surprise a thick weight slammed into his side. Voronkova crashed painfully against a hard surface, his head swimming from the impact and the ripe, oily stench blasting him full-on in the face. A set of giant paws were digging unmercifully into his ribcage, pinning him half standing against one of the very volcanic formations that had so stirred his imagination earlier.

Imagination indeed!

"It's a...lizard!" exclaimed a voice to his left. Voron recoiled as his wits recovered enough to allow vision of the horribly ugly snout stationed directly in front of his own. Wetness from the fat canine nose occasionally smeared across his muzzle as the behemoth panted, it's formidable teeth a luminous, sickly yellow in the moonlight.

"What is it doing here? Well, speak, bastard!"

He was jabbed in the shoulder with something sharp.

"I have nothing to say to you," Voronkova snarled at the group of four disheveled human females and single human male he could now see gathered around him and the beast.

"Are you with the Khnash?"

"No!"

"I've heard they've been spotted mingling with strange two-legged lizards like this one," said the man, a shorter, wiry speaker, wiping the back of a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"He could be lying..."

"I am not!"

"I say we kill him."

"I'll rip your hearts out your mouths and devour them before you can lay a finger on me you miserable little rats!" The smell of the giant canine's breath was really starting to make him ill. Voron clamped his eyes shut, willing the contents of his stomach back down his gullet and desperately wishing his arms were not pinned in a way as to make drawing his blades impossible.

"Huh. He ain't friendly, that's for sure."

"Probably a Khnash spy."

"We should flay 'im where he stands."

"Ereva, enough of that. We're not cold-blooded killers. We're not those Khnash." She spat the word. "He wasn't threatening anybody...well, before your Hound pinned him down."

"It wouldn't hurt to be cautious, after what happened last night. Oni, I plead you to see reason!"

Oh, this is beautiful. My fate is being argued over by these...these disgusting mammals! If I could only reach my sword!

"Releassse me, and I'll ssssingle-handedly ssstring you up by your intessstinesss for the buzzardsss to pick clean!"

...

Unbeknownst to the squabbling group, a pair of cold hazel eyes watched silently from above before fixating again hungrily on the shattered little village not even a mile's distance from the canyon.

* Journey forward, Sixshot Jala.

[The Bloody Son]

The sun was on its way up by the time Cellius made it back to the cave. It had been a long night to prove how much he wanted a companion and even that horse that seemed to be admiring him. She was a gorgeous steed and without any family, it was the closest thing he could think of...

Having only been the second day in the cave, Cell hadn't really set up any bedding, but when he got into the cove as the sun peeked over the hills to the far east, the boy grinned again. There was grass bundles tied together in a roll fashion and laid to knit against one another with two skinned bear blankets that he instantly fell into and dozed off without hesitation. His eyes were heavy and the over exertion from the moonlight boost gave him more than his fair share of energy before he crashed.

The night before he'd lifted the stone alone after the woman had gone to bed that the men couldn't get up on their own. A brute power push and he hefted it into place and then secured it up on the blocks so they would have something to build from this day. Along with the heavy lifting, Cell had also cleaned out the stables of the burned up poles and heavy obstacles that he didn't want the women moving alone. His heart was hardened, but melting slowly for these kind humans - a half-assed family he never had.

Hauled into a burn pile off to the north of the village, he cleaned up around the place silently so that they wouldn't have much else to do but begin the rebuilding process and then slumped his way back to the cove that was nestled deeply within the forest. When he awoke, he felt a dip would be in order since he hadn't bathed in two days now.

His body ached from the intensive labor, but the day was soon over and the cool cave had saved him yet again the despair of baking alive in the bright light. His skin as a vampire would seem to react hypoallergenically, not like in the movies and typical lore would portrait. He infact could be in the sun for less than a half hour, but his skin would sting, itch, crack, and eventually boil up into festered open sores.


::: ::: ::: ::: :::

With a groan and a solid stretch, the boy rolled over and yawned widely. His chapped maw spreading like a void and his razor sharp canines extended outwards before retracting when his mouth closed. Cell smiled. Another day passed and he slept like a champ this 'day'. He stood slowly and stretched again, reaching up for the stlagtites that hung above, but with not avail, he couldn't reach.

To the entrance of the cave, Cell shed his clothing and looked to the amber and hot pink skies with a grin, it was around seven, he assumed. With a thoughtless jump, the boy landed in toward the middle of the lake and the waves crashed against the undisturbed edges. The waterfall clapped like thunder against the water he surfaced in and swam around silently, smiling like any child would. Swimming was one of the best feelings ever, skinny dipping was even better. His nude form slide lithely through the waters like an albino serpent. Skinny, yet muscular form rolled with muscles beneath the waters. He floated on his back. Splashed at the waterfall as if it was another kid. Dunked himself and did a few somersaults under the glassy surface just for the fun of it, dousing his chocolate hair to make it look like an obsidian sheet.

To the edge he swam and just sat for a moment, staring at his newly forming life - a lake house, Cell thought and snickered.

"Why would I ever want to leave this place...?"

[Audio, video, disco]

Voronkova traced idle patterns in the straw-strewn dust at his feet. From beyond the charred wooden planks that had somehow been spared total annihilation from whatever had transpired here, he could hear the trifling laughter and soft footfalls of people walking past the ridiculous "prison". The Herptian paused, listening as they passed, before resuming his bored tracing with a frustrated snort.

After some deliberation last night his "captors", fully convinced that he had no right to be walking through the canyon, true enemy or not, disarmed him and dragged him back to their pitiful village, chaining him up here in this hut, to whatever end he couldn't fathom. And the hut was certainly worthy of such an inglorious title! It had once been used to protect a long-dry stone well that gaped at the center of the dirt floor, but now was serving as a sort of beggarly halfway house for various items of ill-repair. Unfortunately any items of potential, such as, oh, say, sharp tools or objects that would be useful for bludgeoning had been removed.

So it was him, the dry gape of the well's hollow mouth, and a few sacks of grain...presumably musty.

Voron itched with a lengthy talon under the shackle around his ankle, yawning. Sleep had come in fitful bursts, continuously disturbed by the racket of repairs going on -- as usual, apparently -- outside.

Damn, their village was in a sorry state. He laughed, an unhappy crackling note.

The door groaned on it's hinges, revealing a woman with a wood bowl in each hand. She was stocky and dark with obvious power laced throughout her lean frame. Like almost everyone else here. They were like...sheep or something.

"I've brought you food and water --"

"It'ssz about fuckin' time."

A hard emotion flickered across the female's wet-clay-coloured eyes.

"The clan-Chief wants to speak with you, lizard. Preferably lucid. If I had my way, I'd let you shrivel up alone in this hut."

Voron leaned nonchalantly back against the wall, the timbers creaking.

"You would," he growled softly, grinning icily at her. His crimson eyes flashed in the shadows. The female hesitated -- her jaw tightened and she tread forward, skirt garment rustling. When she was within a few feet of him and leaning over to place the bowls on the ground, Voron made a sudden movement as if to strike, jingling his chains loudly. The startled female jumped back, spilling one of the bowls. Water seeped like freshly-spilt blood into the thirsty dust.

Voronkova's amused chuckle was cut short by the dagger blade pushing into his slender throat.

...She moved fast.

The woman's warm breath flowered from behind her clenched teeth, her peach-shaped face drawn closely to his. The dagger's blade was pleasantly cold on his scales in the muffled heat of the circular room.

"You're afraid of me," he whispered.

She withdrew, ripping the edge against his jugular and eliciting blood. Voron hissed and raised a hand to the shallow wound.

"I'm afraid of nothing," she retorted, turning her back on him and walking toward the door. Silhouettes were gathered there against the setting sun. The leader of the group was another female, her slightly stooped body shrouded in an animal skin cloak. Her weathered countenance reminded him of a mask he had seen once carved from river driftwood.

The impudent woman of earlier seconds paused to dip her head in respect.

"Ereva," the older cloaked woman acknowledged, then stepping inside. Ereva disappeared behind her and the two other silhouettes positioned themselves on either side of the entryway, although they remained outside.

She approached stiffly until she was standing behind the well opening facing him. Voronkova hadn't budged, sitting still as a gargoyle and regarding the supposed chieftain with clear disdain. The bowls sat untouched.

"Do you know who I am?" asked the old woman.

"I dunno. Ya'll look the sszame to me," Voron drawled, studying the sticky smears on his fingers from when he had cupped the dagger wound.

"I am Seya, clan-Chief of this village," she continued calmly. "You are alive now only through the good graces of my daughter Oni, and the possibility that you may be of some use to us."

"Forgive me if I don't keel over with happiness."

"That might be preferable, Herptian," Seya intoned.

"Ah, finally sszomeone who knows just what the hell I am!" congratulated Voron sarcastically, using the Common way of phrasing things. Seya ignored him.

"Our rivals the Khnash, a nomadic sister tribe, have camped near us and have been stealing our livestock and raping our village. They outnumber us, they refuse to leave, and...they have been seen recently consorting with your kind."

She paused, staring accusingly at him.

"Sszo what the fuck do y'want me to do about it?" he snapped after a long minute, far surpassed irritated with these puny mammals' inexorable sanctimonious BS. "That'sss your own problem, isszn't it."

"We are running out of resources. Another attack could very well destroy us. This persistence is unusual, even for them. All I ask -- all we ask -- is that you work with us to help find a way to stop them. Perhaps, if you were to go undercover with another of our scouts, you could discern their true motives in hope of stopping this once and for all."

Voron rubbed the cut on his throat, his lips curling in disbelief.

"You have no right to ssztand there whilst I am chained and demand my cooperation," he grated quietly.

"I am not demanding anything. If you do not wish to help us, then you are free to go, given that you never return. However if you choose to be helpful, you will be rewarded."

"With what?"

"With whatever we can offer you."

"Gold?"

"It is a possibility."

The sun had set fully now. Voronkova inhaled the stale, chalky air and sighed. Seya was not as convincing as she might have believed herself to the raptor, who wanted nothing more at that time than to be free and gone from this place.

He hadn't a chance to answer her, as there came an earth-shattering explosion and the sky beyond the door frame ignited with swirling golden flame.

[The Bloody Son]

It'd been an hour or so since his splash, but now Cellius was headed down the hill toward the village when he encountered Mya and Evera who smiled warmly to him and Mya came quickly to the boy's side and hugged him! Cell spasmed slightly and then laughing, he hugged her back. "You did so much last night, my boy! How did you ever manage?!" Mya was ecstatic and Evera approached with a grin. "Thank you so much for helping out, Cell. With most of the men dead in the village because of the raid two weeks ago - we needed someone as strong as you to help..."

"Actually, thank the moon. It's light gives me a boosted stamina for periods of time and since I was out most of the night working - it was the least I could do..." Cell grinned and nodded thankfully to Evera and then motioned to the hut she just left. Cell frowned slightly curious and motioned to where the guards were standing and then to the ladies. "What's going on?"

"Ahh, maybe you can help us with him. We found him wandering through the canyons and since he's a Herptian, we stopped him because they've been seeing conspiring with the tribes who's war leader you killed - the Khnash."

Cell blinked slowly and then moved over toward the hut with the lizard inside. As he approached, an explosion rung out. Cell flinched and turned to look over the hill, watching a massive flaming rock soar through the air and impact the ground near the top of the hill and roll in a blaze of glory down the hill toward the village. It picked up speed with it's rolling descent and that's when Cellius moved into action.

From the burn pile the night before, he pulled a massive charred stalk of wood from the pile and made sure the center point was sturdy enough to be useful and then hurled the eight foot beam like a javelin toward the stone. It impacted right before the smoldering ball which was perfect because it embedded itself into the ground at an angle and acted as a directional wall - forcing the ball off course to the left of the village and continued rolling on, leaving black oil spots every-so-often and singed grass.

"Holy cow?!" Cell exclaimed, turning to face the women who were more astonished with the boy's raw strength than a flaming ball from hell that was launched from no where apparently. "I need to see this lizard - send someone on horse to the top of the hill to see what's throwing that..." Without hesitation as a commander, the boy spoke instinctively and Evera mounted up within a few moments and was off on a titan of a steed.

Cellius moved into the hut, passed the guards and stood beside Seya. She smiled, "Little Master Cell, how are you?"

The vampire laughed. "I'm good, boss. How are you?"

"Apparently, we could be better." Seya sighed and nodded to the bleeding lizard.

Cell took a few steps toward Voron and lowered himself, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. "Clean up that blood. What's your name, stranger? I'm Cellius. I suggest you cooperate with me right now, or I'll leave you in here to get rolled over by the next flaming boulder that comes rolling over that damn hill. How does that sound? Fried lizard, anyone? Smashed and on the rocks..." Cell chuckled to himself with the humorous pun.

[Audio, video, disco]

The reptile bared an impressive arsenal of elegant white fangs at the pallid youth, feathers bristling. It was amazing he could speak Common as well as he did, his mouth brimming with the gleaming predatory blades. Nonetheless, the characteristic Herptian hiss hung from every syllable.

"My name isss Voronkova of the Amutek family, and you would not be sszpeaking to me in sssuch a manner if I were not ressztrained, boy!" he snarled, swatting away the kerchief none too gently. How dare this, this infantile whelp barge in here and address him like an inferior?! Voronkova rose to his full height, serpentine neck flexing backwards and arms pulled to his sides by the short chains. Hatred coiled off him like noxious fumes.

"Szeya," he barked, "You will release me now. And may I add that this sniveling child be returned to his crib beforehand, else he may just find himself a bit shorter than he is currently!"

"Enough of your threats," the aging chieftain interjected wearily before anyone could speak further. "You are declining my offer?"

"Correct!" he rolled the R's, his muscular tail lashing against the wall. The merest spark he had had of wanting to aid the tribespeople had been snuffed completely and utterly with the newest arrival. Voron had no patience for cowards who taunted enemies unable to retaliate.

"And...my posszessionsz better be intact."


...=...

Ereva slowed as she neared the summit, her mount's powerful hooves thudding rhythmically through the knee-high grass. Readying herself in case she needed to escape quickly, the shaman-in-training cautiously directed Tenerell upward, but there was nothing to be seen. Just impenetrable blackness.

What were you expecting, a trebuchet? They couldn't have possibly gotten it this close without us noticing.

But...then where had that rock come from?

Head's up guys, I probably won't be able to respond again until Monday. Maybe tomorrow, but it's uncertain.

[The Bloody Son]

No problem. ;B I like how we flow in posts. It just fits and the NPC's are free game. <3

"If he is unwilling to cooperate, Seya - I'd leave him there until he comes to his senses and realizes what kind of danger he's really in when the second searing hot hunk of rock come crashing into this hut and ending his pathetic life.

To act like a fool when prisoner hospitality is given - your arrogance will be your downfall. And though I may look like a kid - you have no idea what I am truly capable of..." Cellius snarled and whipped the blade from the small of his back with a spiteful intent. The song of the VanGras family blade wailed a requiem of a harmony to the lives it had taken over the past few centuries of being handed down through the generations. The beast was tied down. The boy had his blade that begged - No, it thirsted for blood and it was all Cellius could do, not to give into the hateful song of the blade and cleave the beast in two...

The vampire snarled and lunged at the lizard with every look of bring the blade down to cleave the chest of this mammoth komodo in twain, but as the blade neared Voron and the boy rushed; he vanished. Having stepped into the shadows of the hut before the lizard, he literally blinked from the corporeal existence and was no longer in the hut, but thirty feet away - re sheathing his blade and heading up the hill to where Ereva was located. Cell grinned.

A scare tactic.

Seya had raised a hand, but only momentarily as she hadn't even had the time to react, however the boy vanished from thin air and the chieftan went slack-jawed with a puzzled, yet humorous look plastered on her face. She took a step back toward the entrance - if Voron was willing to help in any way possible without attacking or trying to harm anyone in the process ... she awaited his word or plea not to be left behind during a possible war time...

The boy chuckled as he walked up the hill. Ferv sank silently back into the dampened leather sheath in which it found solace and seemed to curl up in a cozy way. Back to sleep with you... Closing the gap to the massive steed, the boy paused closing in on the crest, "Have you seen anything?"

[Audio, video, disco]

Tenerell snorted wetly in greeting at the young vampire and Ereva had to smile. Like most of their steeds, the seasoned gelding had taken a shine to the boy. She absently toyed with the thick strands of silver hair growing from the behemoth's withers and blew the air from her cheeks.

"I can't see a thing, Cell. It's like it came straight from oblivion. What about you? Can't...your people see better in the dark, or something?"

She quieted when Tenerell's ears pricked curiously ahead. His every muscle was taught and she could have sworn the giant wasn't even breathing. There was a sound...a wheezing, rumbling sound like an asthmatic beast with a thousand hooves winding closer, different from the hiss of grass stalks in the breeze. She glanced questioningly at her bloodthirsty companion.

"What...?"

As her head was turned, four points of light appeared one right next to the other just beyond the summit of the adjacent hill. A keen eye would see they were flaming chunks of rock like the previous missile, weakly illuminating some wooden superstructures that held them a decent story above the earth.

The attackers - Khnash, Herptian, whomever they were - had so obviously returned.

[The Bloody Son]

The boy lifted a hand to the massive steed and ran thin fingers down it's muscular jaw while listening to the woman speak. Her thin face squinted as she looked off into the distance at the warm glowing orbs and gave a puzzled question. Cell's hand slid from the horse's jaw and a few steps later, he redirected his eyes to the hill. He saw figures ... several! "It looks to be the Knash and maybe even those nasty lizar--" The boy froze in mid sentence to look off to his left.



CRACK!


Four sets of golden eyes peered from the darkest shadows in the valley between the hills and Cell gasped. He saw them through the night as outlined in purple auras - beings of the shadow; Cell usually saw them in plum. They were devouring a giant scorpion carcass before they were interrupted and began to stare ... intently. "Ereva ... back away slowly. Go tell Seya to prepare for a long night. Get the children into the under-hut..."

Karuku-tal is what the natives called them. Shadow cats that lurked in the night and they were intently watching the pallid framed boy with a nasty intent. He looked around for anything - a sheep skull, some rocks...wait.
The growls of the felines rumbled audibly and the boy moved carefully, picking up the bare skull - the moonlight casted off the bone and reflected and instantly, they were attracted. Cellius stomped and yelled at them, causing them to hiss viciously and their maws to gape revealing the razor sharp incisors.

I hope this works... The boy waved the skull. Their heads followed. With tremendous strength, he hurled the skull toward the next hill over where the men with the boulders lie and at the same instant, Cell shadow stepped toward the village. The cats eagerly watched the shimmering object and launched off - disappearing and reappearing from the shadows and into the moonlight, vanishing in clouds of smoke and reappearing five feet closer - about to come into a very ... wild surprise...

[Audio, video, disco]

Ereva didn't need to be told twice. Jerking Tenerell's reigns more sternly than needed, the young shaman wheeled the horse around and sent him thundering down the slope. During the short, jostling ride into the village, her thoughts raced along with the parched desert air striking hair into her eyes.

Somehow or another, it was going to end tonight. She could feel it. The appearance of the vampiric boy, who had since proven a great asset, could not have been a coincidence. And what of the bastard lizard? What purpose would he serve? If any! The young woman's gut clenched in a fit of nerves behind her belt, but the shaman didn't look back.

Suravani watch over us.


---

His answer was resolute:

"No. I will ssztill not help you."

The outcome - Voronkova massaging his wrists from where the metal had sheared off a fine layer of cobalt scales. The two female assistants who had released him distanced themselves as the Herptian took a menacing step, tapping a dirty sickle claw on the earth. The elder Seya was exiting the hut, flanked by the younger women who could not hide their distrust of the large, svelte reptile who slunk eagerly after them. Once in the open, Voron was able to stretch to his full height and his white crest flared pleasurably, nearly alight against caliginous heaven.

"My posszessionsz!" he reminded them sternly, as if speaking to a gaggle of thieving toddlers. One toddler in question was not present, he observed, flicking his head around in a birdlike manner. The raptor's lips curled.

Seya faced him, the lines thatching her gnarled countenance deeper than usual. She shifted underneath her animal hide shawl. She paused, then nodded at the assistant who wore her hair in short dreadlocks beaded with dyed bone. The woman left and Seya looked about ready to address the Herptian again, when the unmistakable pounding of hooves rounded the corner of the generously-sized hut planted near them.

Voron hissed softly as Evera appeared, pulling her steed's mouth so he halted with his shoulder facing the little group. The animal's eyes were bright in the darkness. She was having trouble keeping him still.

"We must get everyone to safety now! There are lights on the hill -"

Her breathless words were cut short as the night once again yielded to a flaming missile that arched high over head, bathing them in ghostly golden pallor. Voronkova remembered an unearthly shriek that could have only come from the steed's massive windpipes, a flash of fire impossibly bright, and something solid connecting with his back before he faded into unconsciousness.


---

Leather harness groaned and metal links rang in muted harmony against the spiky hides of the gra'del as their masters spurred them forward. The giant caterpillar-like worms bulldozed through grass and ground, spotted green and yellow hides quivering with every lick of the driving whip. His newest quarry was a mere inkblot interspersed with occasional lantern flickers on the hill, now adequately disabled.

Like chasing a sparrow with a broken wing.

"Prepare the resszt of the rocksss!" Keb Siri roared in Common so the human ke'pazh could understand, the ragged crimson feathers adorning the base of his scaly skull prickling in anticipation. There was raucous clattering from the wooden structures the gra'del toiled to pull soon followed by a flare of heat and light as flammable cloth knotted around the missiles was set ablaze with torches. The sweet stench of oil coagulated around the bulbous gra'del's fetid musk.

"This'll be like stabbing ferrets in a hole." The human male who deigned to walk beside him added his own grim simile. Keb secretly thought his simile was better. A little less...primitive. This man had apparently assumed a leading role over the fighters in his tribe. He was an impressive specimen; broad and sinuous if boasting a bit of a distended belly, with patterns in blue paint raking his feeble brown skin where it shown.

Around them marched a mixed score of capable Herptian warriors and Khnash. Some of these humans were mounted on the purloined steeds. Larcenous dogs. But he could not deny his gladness for their company, including that of their avid commander. The Khnash had been surprisingly helpful thus far. Seldom did Herptian people associate with the disgusting mammalians, let alone consider them allies in battle.

And yet...this partnership was bearing fruit.

The white-streaked reptile canted his muzzle toward the Khnash leader. "If you sszo pleassz, you may tell them to fire."

There was hardly any consideration. "Get those rocks where they belong!" shouted the man whose title he had not bothered to learn. The Khnash then lifted a scarred hand and fingered the carved badger fang swinging around his tawny neck, mumbling inaudibly.

Maybe he believes it will bring him luck. Heh. Certainly a favour of fortune no one here will need tonight...

All four wheezing, wheeled trebuchets released their deadly cargo with a sharp, collective TWACK.

Keb was too busy admiring his personal meteors to scream when the startled Karuku-tal launched itself at his face.

~
ke'pazh - derogatory term for referring to mammals

[The Bloody Son]

The shrill cry of the horse caught Cellius' attention first. As the boy neared the village, the second firey boulder crashed into the hut next to the boy and the eruption shook the very foundations of the earth and threw the boy off his left foot in a wobble and fell to the ground and rolled. His shirt and pants now covered in grass and mud, the vampire blinked slowly - his head aching from the noise. Rolling over, he saw the steed laying on its side and Ereva wasn't moving. Nonchalantly, the blood thief patted out the flaming spot on his shirt and then heard the howling screams from over the hill...

The skull diversion worked...


On his feet, Cellius threw an arm around Ereva's waist and then hefted her over his shoulder with a gentle groan escaping her lips and took a few steps. The Herptian warrior lay unmoving on the ground along with the village leader. Turmoil fought inside the boy's mind and he groaned. He would come back for Seya - she seemed to be conscious, just totally dazed.


"Dammit..." Bending over, Cell threw his arm around the chest of the lizardman and his back to the boy's side and drug him along. Grunting with the dead weight of both, the boy moved as swiftly as he could, dragging them to the back of the village where the children were hiding in a hidden passage beneath the rear hut. Through the horse stables and into the passage, a few women assisted in taking Ereva and then scoffed at the Herptian.

"Why did you bring him down here?! He's the enemy!"
"Yeah! He could be feign and awake to kill us all!"

"I don't think so, ladies... if he wanted to fight, he would have acted already - I think... And with the size of him and his blade, I'd go as far as saying, he'd have killed everyone already..."

Cellius turned, leaving Voron in the pit and moving back up in time to see another ball come hurtling toward the ground. The night provided all the shadow and potential energy he needed. His hand clenched and began to shake violently - the energy pulled from all directions, spiraling around his fist in a plume of amethyst before Cell snapped his thin fingers. A small orb formed and with precision, he threw it at the incoming projectile to cease its onslaught.

The force of the throw impacted directly into the center of the flaming ball and the plume that surrounded the shadow orb exploded, blowing the once solid object into fragments that rained down. The shadows having choked the scourging flames all that remained was a falling shower of rock.

Other than the crackling of the flames and the crumbling of rocks all around, Cellius' eyes turned to the hill in the distance where the mauled inhuman screams came from the dismemberment and systematic annihilation of the Khnash and the Herptian horde... A blood bath was ensuing.

[The Bloody Son]

The previous day was full of turmoil and death. The blood shed between the Knash and the Esseker was close to the same amount, however the boulders did the most damage within the little village and only killed a few individuals. The massacre of all the men was complete by the Knash, however the days seemed to look up for the hidden, steed-raising tribe.

Whence the night fell, figures loomed on the moon lit crest of the far west and aimed directly for the village. Nearly seven or eight came and it looked as if they were pulling or dragging something behind a few large horses. As they approached it was evidence of what little bloody tribesman from the Deklan remained. Five men and two women approached with six children on a sleigh. Behind them they drug goods: food, pelts, weaponry, and all that was needed to help rebuilding. After the bloodshed the night before, this perfection couldn't have come at a better time, for the two tribes could unite again and the Knash seemed to be no more.


:: :: :: :: ::

Cellius came walking down the hill from the other side as he watched the new, fresh faces mingle within the old and a broad smile crossed his face. Mya and Seya approached from the village with open arms and embraced the blood-thief without hesitation and he accepted so willingly, cradling their warmth in his grasps.

"Thank you so much, Cell. We couldn't have managed without you, honestly. If you hadn't saved the village last night - there wouldn't be anything left..." Seya expressed her gratitude with a big smile and a set of reigns, "We want you to have one of Suravani's great steeds. It's the least we can do - and you'll forever have family here, whenever you need it..."

"I ... I don't know what to say... thank you so much. For bringing me in. Accepting such an outsider... thank you for the token!" The boy grinned wildly, taking the reigns to whichever horse he chose with confidence and then Mya spoke up. "You mentioned the moonlight gives you strength... I've heard of a blade that glows with the power of the moon...I believe it's called the Monolith Clearing ... you may check it out and find some history in yourself, boy..." With her description came motions off to the distant horizon where he should start looking. Mya gave him a hug and marched off, "I must tend to the wounded..." Her rolly round self disappeared into the newly faced crowd and the boy moved to the outskirts against the back of the rubble filled village.

Happiness was a good description of his current mood. His eyes twinkled in a warm chocolate, iridescent in the dancing moonlight that waltzed carelessly with the surrounding clouds. Cell approached the pen to these legendary, massive proportioned steeds and stood there. The ebony one that Ereva rode moved to the fence and snorted a hello. Cell lifted the reigns and the horse bobbed it's head slowly and with a click - the horse left the gate and stood at the boy's side.

"Are you sure about this?" Cell inquired with a grin on his face.

I'm positive, Cellius. Your kindness to my people and my family have made my mind up. I am yours, Master. Friend. You may call me Marrow. The horse's head bobbed slowly and then knelt forward onto one ebony, rough knee and the boy stood there amazed slightly. The telepathic link from the steed to his brain felt like a prick on his cerebrum, however allowed it was massaging to his thoughts.
Without hesitation afterwards, he dropped the reigns, stepped onto the knuckle of the steed and was launched onto it's back and with a whinny the two galloped off into the field. Cell was wobbly, yet with the giant's movements, the ride was smooth as silk. Holding onto the mane tightly, the vampire's fingers white knuckled the thick strands of calloused hair as the beast took off with lightning speed.

Next stop - who knows...

[Audio, video, disco]

Voronkova watched the pair speed off from his vantage point upon the same hill their enemies had been funneling down the night before. The grass was stiff with dried blood and the air was weighted with it's sweet odour. He could hear loud smacking and tearing from over the next rise, where he expected the Karuku-tal would be chowing down on the gra'del carcass that had been left behind when the survivors sped a hasty retreat. The lithe, demented cats paid him no heed as they gorged themselves.

It remained unknown to him why they - as in the army - had even ventured to attack this insignificant little smudge of a man-village to begin with, or why his brethren, as he had been told, had endeavored to join forces with the Knash tribesmen. The Herptain fingered the soiled bandage that partially obscured one eye, wincing as the torn skin underneath gave way to his talons. That wound had him out cold for the duration of the battle, something that he wasn't entirely certain he resented. Surely, the reptile would have been left to perish amid the flames had it not been for the boy.

Voron's crest prickled. He had overheard tell of the vampire's exploits by accident shortly after waking. He now owed the twerp a debt.

This was unfortunate.

A long, slightly crooked forefinger stroked Oakeshott's
slick emerald-painted pommel in thought, the stone gleaming wetly like a lidless eye. A debt was not something to be trifled with, especially when it concerned a life. Voronkova Amutek might have been freed from the clutches of that primitive mammalian village, but the sense of the word had since changed.

You must find this all terribly amusing, he told his dead teacher silently, setting off down the hill to follow young Cellius and the black steed called Marrow.

[Breaker]

A unexpected savior...?
Quest Judgement

STORY

Continuity ~ 3/10. Got a little bit more backstory from AVD, but TBS' storyline was almost non existent. Cellius' past seemed to have no effect on anything in this thread, nor did the events of the thread seem to effect him in any way, except that he got a horse.

Setting ~ 5/10. You each had your moments, but failed to really illustrate the setting. Remember to use all five senses and work on keeping the description relevant to the action of the thread.

Pacing ~ 4/10.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 3/10. For the most part, the dialogue was pretty cliche, and failed to demonstrate much about the characters. All of the dialogue in post number 7 pretty much sums it up: it reminded me of something a character might say in an anime flick translated from Japanese, to English, to Dutch, then back to English again.

Action ~ 3/10. The action was hard to follow at times and at other times almost nonsensical. Telling me your character "literally blinked" makes me wonder what it is like to figuratively blink, or hypothetically blink.

Persona ~ 2/10. Very little persona from either character, and the NPCs were robots. Try using your characters personality and emotions to influence plot events, and you'll be on the right track.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 5/10. Both of you had the occasional nice device, in particular I enjoyed the sword blade that begged for blood. However, writing of this level was scarce, and things like "Happiness was a good description of his current mood" weighed on the score.

Mechanics ~ 6/10.
Clarity ~ 5/10. Avoid saying things like "totally dazed" and "so obviously".

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 4/10.

TOTAL ~ 35/100. My eyes hurt.

EXP and GP Rewards

The Bloody Son receives 285 EXP and 75 GP
Audio, video, disco receives 228 EXP and 75 GP

Other Rewards

The Bloody Son receives the horse, but it throws four shoes and must be taken to a blacksmith before it can be ridden anywhere.

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!