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Etched In Stone

Down With the Sickness (faction thread)

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The dark ruler, announced Lord of Vampires, Him of Crows ascended from his profound sleep right around a couple of months back in the Haunted Glen. Relics of shrewdness and exceptional power was the reason for his entry from the place he called the Underworld. It was there he procured the Chateau De Choisel, an mansion once colonized by a coven of local vampyre. Heavily protected by undead of assorted types, figures of grotesqueness, a few packs of spiritual apparition wolves, and the colossal interwoven tissue mass; a blundering monstrosity cobbled together from save parts in awkward satire of a human frame. It is even said that with the end goal for one to make it into the Chateau, one should discover it's way through the consistently changing hauntings of a labyrinth with only one true path.   It wasn't long after until the point when he transformed the haunted bequest into what might be known as a Crack House and Feeding Sanctum for all to come enjoy their most out of control drugs or lusty fantasies in a prison chamber underneath the Manor itself. Just for a little expense, obviously. Volunteers whom served the standard of Choisel were compensated for their administrations, while numerous other people who wanted the private quarters without wanting to stress over their criminal treacherous exercises were charged every hour for said housing.

Alongside his wake, he brought with him a large number of his coven from the House of Choisel. This enormity of man, demon, however more essentially, the Congregation of Kabbalat alluded to him as the Antichrist, vanquished all in which resisted his army, power, and his honored position as a leader of the Underworld. He crushed numerous mortal creatures, numerous proclaimed rulers and their kingdoms had fallen unfit against the oppression and mayhem that was delivered from the colossal Kronos of the Thirsty. A divine being among divine beings, the son of the devil, unadulterated with fiendishness and immortality as legend predicted it, this monstrosity was relentless in his rule of darkness curtaining over the lands. He conceded all and any the chance at an everlasting life, wealth for more noteworthy than any lord could offer thusly for their fealty, their souls, the taste and extravagance of their blood. Numerous would decrease such an offer considered crazy and unworthy, yet what they neglected to acknowledge in this supposed life and age everything had accompanied a cost. Nothing would be free, not even the air they inhaled, or the water they would drink. While others discovered this offering a possibility at recovery, to start over again, having something that was once never envisioned. Hundreds would accumulate under the Choisel House for the guarantees. They would find that what the man proposed was undoubtedly not a fabrication, they were given similarly as he said everything any man or lady who had never had such an open door, this was not a lie but rather a fact in his words.

A dark legion would ascend over hundreds of undead fiends, wendigos, banshee, rotting cadavers, lost souls and vampires join under the lordship of that solitary element. His matchless quality over the Glen had turned into a power to figure, an alarming nightmare. With his control over the domain and thanks to his personal assistant and Doctor approached an ailment, the vampiric torment, otherwise called Elixurl Vietti or the Elixir of Life. In return for her administrations he set up a little facility for her work studies about and gave her vital subsidizing through various producing livelihoods. Publicized as a cure all remedy, this Exilir was advised to allow it's consumer imperishability and impeccable essentialness. From the Glen to fourty miles North in the Copper City known as Tia, this vial of thick and unscented red liquid was managed uninhibitedly at no cost to start what was known as the time for testing. Numerous which were wiped out and sick with hopeless infections and maladies went for this Elixir originating from all sides of Terrenus just to get it's 100% adequacy and free their infirmities which even specialists asserted meds couldn't cure. They weren't right. Not exclusively were the doctors off base, the general population of Terrenus had no clue on how they were really being freed free of what even the best specialists said was incomprehensible.

One was to drink just a solitary seven milligram vial of the cure. In any case, this cure accomplished something other than cure their ailment. It transformed them into vampire under the summon of the unrivaled, Leinhart Choisel. Inside six to twelve hours of introduction, the casualty built up a cerebral pain, fever, chills and other influenza like side effects—and also an uncommon increment in digestion and heart yield as the infection spreaded all through the body. These indications were effectively mistaken for more typical contaminations. This stage by and large kept going another six to twelve hours. Stage one was known as the Contamination. Inside 24 hours of presentation, the casualty slipped into a vampiric extreme lethargies. Around 10 hours into this stage, the heart beat moderates, breathing is shallow and the understudies are expanded. Thousands have been buried alive along these lines. While it is usually trusted that anybody tainted transforms into a vampire, in truth just a little level of individuals survive the vampiric extreme lethargies. By and large, the youthful, old and weak never leave their trance states and in the long beyond words, by far most of survivors are males between the ages of 18 to 35. For the last gathering, the vampiric trance like state last about a day and commonly end around evening time, yet the previous statistic may wait for an extra day or so before death. Stage two was known as the Unconsciousness. A casualty who survived the unconsciousness stirred completely changed into a vampire. An acclimation period takes after—described by perplexity, depression and neurosis, alongside the distress of drying out and lack of healthy sustenance. Before long, a mind-boggling strive after blood assumes control and muffles every single other need and concerns. Inside 24 hours of change, the vampire deserted its previous life and start chasing—beginning with pets, and even loved ones, if require be. The last stage was known as the Change.

It wasn't long after his welcome into Tia that he procured almost a thousand followers because of the establishing of said Elixir. An extensive bit of the Copper City had tumbled to his control, the lesser vampyre there were no match for the pureblood and his coven. Just on the edges of the Haunted, fifty miles underneath the Gaian Foundation raised a city once directed by a gathering of religious individuals. A victorian-esque town of old an antiquated. It was the main place noone would expect such a grave abhorrence to wait about. Crosses and religious symbols of godly imagery still stood tall as relics of the past, talking stories and legends that never again existed. These individuals were the first to attempt and foil his activities of populating the zone with vampires. Rather, they fell impressively, obliterating to fiery debris. This was truth to exposed witness that no Congregation of God could annul this creature. Presently overran by the House of Choisel, the place filled in as one of a few reserve spots for his criminal movements. The dark legion had amassed themselves there under what appeared to now be an endless Red Moon.

Merely, it was just the beginning.
Edited by Etched in Stone

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In a patch of deep shadows in an alleyway near the center of the town, a rift split open. It appeared as if by magic, a slice cut into the open air, and created a portal from the Spirit World into the mortal realm. From out of the rift stepped a tall woman with jet black hair. Anyone watching this happen would see the woman wielding a giant scythe, and with one deft swing she closed the portal and the scythe turned into a small hand fan. 

Cariella stepped from the alleyway and looked around. This was the town that she was called to, it was a run-down, dirty victorian town that reeked of death. Just her kind of place. She wasn't sure where she should go so she headed to where the action usually took place, which was to say she headed towards the town square. The people she passed gave her a quick glance but then looked away, as was proper for when peasants gazed upon their betters. She was still a lady even in death and just because she was now a reaper did not mean that she had given up her title. In fact she had become more powerful. And now with the growing tension in Terrenus she had been called to this town because there would soon be deaths (and hopefully many of them) and death was her business.

She could tell from the types of people she saw that this town was home to vampires, and purebloods at that. She could sense it, their black souls and tainted blood. Now all she had to do was try and find the one in charge. 

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Damien was bored.
Lienhart said there would be a war, but all he was doing was artificially making more vampires. Yes Damien was well aware that he needed an army to wage a war, that was Game of Crowns 101. But god it was so BORING.

He'd been hanging around Leinhart and his horde for quite some time now. As far as he could tell, they weren't too bad of company. He'd had worse, for sure. Impressively, Leinhart had amassed quite a few followers in recent weeks. Through dirty, and tremendously un-fun means, but effective, dirty and un-fun means.

Damien sighed. He realized that he was just being impatient, but he was starting to worry that his skills in Dark Blood were starting to rust. He'd also just started Soulsborne, so he knew he was gonna have to work to get his groove back on that one.
"Ugh for fucks sake, lets just get on with this already!" Damien was talking to no one in particular, but he needed to vent the frustration.

Edited by HollowCipher

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People of the antiquated town spoke of the Gaian Folkore all before getting wrecked with the rest whom wished not to join the positions of Choisel. In endeavors to spare their own particular lives, they did their best to induce Leinhart and his dark legion that the city was in truth useless and nothing of fortune to him. Their specify of the legendary Sable, an unassuming man of Gaian Faith and how he killed the transcending eleven headed hydra was a confirmation of the Church and it's religious powers that the individuals who censured fealty to the House would soon enough, one day, get their requital. The general population even went further as to prevail upon the son of the fallen angel by letting him know of a fortune that lie in the core of a swampy surrender situated at Snake's Way and how the blessed sword still stayed in in tact well as the eleven headed hydra guarding it. What they wouldn't have known, the dark lord had enough wealth to spread to the whole city and a few others; that he was not inspired by neither the gathered fortunes found there nor it's sword. It was the appalling hellish creature that topped his enthusiasm for purpose of picking it up in his own support controlling it thus, to use against all whom trampled his direction and his plan to overcome what was the World. He envisioned the subjugation it held under his summon. The Patriarch dressed himself in his luxurious red tailcoat and slacks with his exclusively customized cowhide loafers upon his feet. His long obsidian twists of silk hair fell in it's ordinary way, free falling by the part amidst his head. His brilliant goldenrod eyes gazed at the numerous countenances in front of him, several creatures of the night from beasts, wendigos, banshees, vampires, spoiling bodies and apparition wolves stood anticipating orders from their ruler and master from what appeared to once been a massive Cathedral with Leinhart locking an arm around the figure of an extensive oak cross from it's rooftop sitting above his dark legion.
 
"Let us march towards Ponkapoag River into the Upper west! We should take this hydra as our own."
Edited by Etched in Stone

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Amber eyes with their flecks of gold and red gazed around area. Ariana knew why she was brought out into this, the master was set on a quest once again. Set on a beast of legend with eleven heads guarding a legendary sword. Myths, faith or religious need would drive people in masses to tame this beast. Ariana wasn't one to dissuade the master when he set his mind to something, the girl valued the immortal life she had. And when called upon the girl would answer without hesitation. The skill set for this quest would greatly aid them. A special ability to manipulate the flowing blood in a person or animal, stopping the flow to vital organs or using the blood like puppet strings to control them. It was a rare ability and made her a little bit more valuable.

Pale fingers fiddled with her long hair, taking the strands and separating them into three thick ones. Slowly braiding them together till it was out of the way. Banding it all together with a simple black tie. It would be a good thing to keep it all tidy and neat, fighting with her hair free felt like tiny whips hitting the exposed skin. Not an ideal thing to happen, but the vampire pushed back old memories of first experiencing whipping strands of hair to focus on the issue at hand.

"You're going to get me killed one of these days Master Lein." She huffed out before trailing behind the male. Hands shoving into the pockets of the faded blue jeans she felt most comfortable traveling in. They matched the blue long sleeve top. It was perfect for travel and hiding blades along her forearm.

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As she walked into town,  Cariella noticed a large crowd gathered around an old, dilapidated cathedral. The crowd was made up of all manner of dark beings from wendigos to vampires and even some banshees. All had gathered to hear the Lord of the Vampires, Lord Leinhart Choisel, announce his plan. Cariella walked through the crowd and as she did so the creatures around her parted, partly because she was a lady and partly because if she had wanted she could kill any of them without even breaking a sweat. The skirt of her black and red dress brushed the ground as she neared the cathedral and any of the creatures who looked at her closely would notice that she had no shadow and seemed to glide over the broken cobblestones.

Cariella looked up as Lord Choisel was finishing his speech and she was interested to hear him mention an 11-headed hydra. She wasn't sure quite what his goal was with the beast but the thought of a deadly creature made her giddy with excitement. She snapped open her fan and fanned herself off, even though there was no need of this and subtly checked that all of her knives were in their proper places. Just in case she needed them. 

Edited by HumanBean03

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A hydra? THAT was Leinharts big play? UUUUUUGH.

Damien was about to voice how big of a letdown that was, when he could just pocket the 'holy sword' that actually KILLED the hydra and corrupt the fuck out of it, when someone stepped from the shadows.
"Good evening, Young Master."

Naturally, it was Sebastian. "I hope you brought me good news."

"Of course. Your father was willing to spare 100 of the Many Handed Ones."

"100? Seriously? Out of the innumerable legions we have, he sends me 100 of ONE kind?! Fuckin' cheap bastard."

"Young Master, please let me finish. 100 of the Many Handed Ones. 50 of the Shoggoth half-breeds. 50 Illithids. 50 Cave Trolls. 50 of the Skeletal Reaper Corps. And 800 freshly turned vampire initiates, all practically falling over themselves for bloodshed."

Damien was less upset by this. But he also knew that his family had countless more of every single one of those things. His dad was being awfully stingy.
"Are they gathered together?"

"Of course."
"Good."

Damien moved to Leinhart. "Hey, Old Man Leinhart. Brought you a present." And under his breath, he said, "All that dad would let go of, that is."
He pointed out behind the crowd, at the group of 1100 creatures waiting for him. Secretly, Damien was a bit shocked that his father actually gave up some of the Illithids and Skeletal Reapers. Not that they were in short supply, but that those things were rather powerful. Maybe Damien's talk of an alliance had gotten through to him.

Edited by HollowCipher

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It seemed as if Master Leinhart's ambitions were potentially too large too fast. He did not doubt him, however, he was certain that such a potential gain was worth enough loss to question it's value. Could the beast be controlled, and if so, for how long? Then of course there was the bigger question. How long could it even survive? Surely if they could defeat it, there too would be others that could do the same. The biggest question was how. How did Master Leinhart plan to dominate the creature? With Alistair's own personal prowess as a mentalist, he would find it possible to perhaps dominate the mind of a single head. But with an 11 headed beast on the table, one clearly wouldn't be enough, not by itself. He couldn't help but wonder how many of the others could potentially pull off the same feat, and if they could, how long could they maintain their manipulations in respect to himself. Naturally, the first person to come to mind was his personal favorite, Maryanne. "Please tell me you're coming along too da'ling." He spoke to her with his mind, hoping that she would receive his speech and oblige it without hesitation. The very thought of her company brought a quaint smirk to his handsome face.

Regardless, the Majordomo, would make certain that he was as physically prepared as he was mentally. As per usual he found himself armed with a stake that he kept tucked into his luxurious vest. Otherwise he was unarmed, and practically his own weapon. Not like he couldn't improvise one or even acquire one if and when necessary. He had a knack for creating weapons out of the most ordinary of objects when his self was simply not enough. He observed the moving bodies to take note of everyone familiar to him that would be accompanying them. His curiosity was most piqued by the young and impressionable Damien. While incredibly unorthodox, he still seemed to be of a more decent cut than he was originally valued. Still, their time together was short and limited at best. This would be the perfect sort of project to actually gauge this young man's mettle, and decide for himself if the values he so frowned upon could gain any attraction from seeing Damien in action.

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JMH Zarracena

Trabacco Password Reset Regular



System of A Down = Chop Suey

 

"You're already dead, ma'lady. Even as soulless entities, I doubt the Hydra will actually physically, harm us. Not even, poisons are effective. Blood sacrifices to my father Lucif is what keeps us alive, corrupt and tainted. You have a contract you must abide by, especially under the House of Choisel. All of us do. Yet as a Pureblood, I must say, I'm rather less constricted to hold myself accountable. You see, my duty is fairly simple as the Count. I must pollute the lands of the nations, the airs, waters with our essence and vitality. You all are Pawns in this game of Chess dying in order to live, living just to die. As our newest member, soon you will understand the curse of immortality should you crave peace in a humble death. We are bound to suffer, it is the Sin we created amongst ourselves in order to sustain such eternal life."

A light grin creviced unto pale thinned lips with glorious goldenrod eyes fixated on Arianna, an once innocently sweet daughter of a peasant farmer cherished by all men in her quaint town that wished to wed the beautiful virgin. It had been maybe months since she has been back at her homestead and like Tatia, she still was adapting to her newly formed body. He admired her unadulterated essence and was that reason in it's self, he proposed the offer of her immortality and riches. Not only did it affect her own personal life, but he was more than enough secure on the fact that her family had to no longer plow the lands and would afford the appropriate medicines for her illed mother. In a barrage of Crows, the dark lord descended swooping to the earth his form granting the near instant ability to morph into haunted minions be it vampire bats, or ravens, in almost the blink of an eye across a distance being grand or small, without exerting much his Nether in a sufficient and easy manner. Leinhart landed upon his cowhide loafers one foot after the other, regressing back to his former corporeal self the tail from his coat finally ceased to drift from his great trajectory atop the cathedral. He brushed his fingers down the coat and gave a brief look to double check his shoes weren't matted with dirt. Little did these vampires care to know, the Patriarch was all about appearance. Sometimes good, sometimes bad and though his mirrored reflection shed light on the skeletal grotesqueness of his true form, he was not once caught out as a public figure looking sloppy. Despite having no true working cerebro he remembered the dusk evening like it was no tomorrow, rising from the catacombs of his own Hell the day of his procreation and the look upon his father's face prided that his son would claim the mortal realm in ways his own lack of material substance could not. Unlike himself, his father was not of flesh or bone, but of an incorporeal darkness restricted within his own planes of existence. He was and forever would be, the Fallen Angel.  

- "Good evening, Young Master." -

While the thousand undead marched the front lines separate in divisions each horde trooping a maximum of five hundred dark legionnaires, the Patriarch had familiarized himself with that voice once before and then he recollected his arrival upon the soils of the Haunted Glen. Yes, no other than the Butler Sebastien of House Vandom. To his own amazement, the vampire brought with him a platoon of hellish creatures under the complimentary commands of Master Vandom to accompany his travel towards the northeast section of the region, the majority being freshly turned vampires. Could it been the Vandom and Choisel Pureblood families were on their way to forming an alliance? The Patriarch ignored the intemperance from the young Vandom in his addressing of the dark lord himself he received no words from the Kronos, only a half-shitty grin that spoke more of sarcasm than in actual appreciation. It was true, the kid was getting rather comfortable in his own skin enough to have wanted to speak to Lord Choisel as if he was conversing with his own father. Yet, that was not the case. Of course, over enough time spending with the child he realized he was in fact, just a kid after all in spite his lack of social teaching and consideration for the hierarchy of vampires. It was that reason he spared the boy his life from day one. Unlike the young Vandom, Sebastien surely had enough common sense to address his own with the proper etiquette. In that reason alone, he gave acknowledgement to the butler upon his arrival followed by a brief few words.

"Your Master understands my cause, yes? Excellent. Send him my gratitude once this is over."

Still, the Count had not moved from his position prior and his infinite goldenrod gaze fixated itself upon Alistair his only sired son. He read through the Keeper like a book, his worries, expectations and thoughts. Second to only the Countess Tatia due their sharing of a father. He never once made mention of it, but Alistair was his most valuable possession. Faithful and devoted always for the cause, Leinhart bestowed upon him via his own supernatural capabilities a reassuring sense of clarification so-to-speak. Surely more than capable of handling his own, though now was not the time to question any thing; soon, he would find all his unanswered questions with solutions. ~ Give it time, Son of Istrefi. The dark lord made note of the not-so-familiar presence looming in the vicinity with her malevolent immense prowess. It was like a disruption in the calming air, yet he worried the least upon the evidence she was not a threat towards he or any member of his House, nor Vandom. Neither would he go addressing himself to her, not every action needed a reaction and her arrival was clear whom she had been looking for. A little under a quarter mile ahead the few vampires who remained stationery along Leinhart, the dark legionnaires were on the move trampling the ground with each step. Mind you, their numbers were now approximately Two thousand and One hundred, once the company of Vandom joined the ranks and marched. Unlike humans and those that required a great deal of stamina to keep such a timely pace, these undead creatures moved off hunger, thirst, and insatiable forces of adrenaline.

From here-on-in, time is of the essence.

 

Edited by Etched in Stone
I remebered ! Thanfully.

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Pawns in a never ending game of chess that she was well aware how it ended for people like her. Dead or as dead as the undead can get, she listened to the master as he spoke and only nodding when appropriate. Knowing it wouldn't do well to speak against him with all the eyes upon them. Ariana was smart as she was beautiful but compaired to most vampires she was a baby even with her abilities. The hydra hopefully wouldn't prove to be a beast the legends told everyone. But anything that still lived and regenerated heads after being sliced off wasn't a comforting thing. It was almost impossible to kill it with 11 heads. But he was sure they would all, even the beast, walked away alive or as alive as any of them were. So she simply nodded and followed after him. Burgandy eyes taking in all those that had come for this cause. Faces she didn't know but soon would know very well. Ariana had a few strengths up her sleeve and that was observation and execution.

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"Yes that is the arrogance I remember," Lady Cariella said to herself as she watched Leinhart descend from the top of the cathedral. He would not even acknowledge her presence, that pretentious ass. She would not take that slight lightly. If he wanted her help he would have to ask her for it. Otherwise, she would watch as his minions were killed one after the other and their souls collected and sent to the Spirit World with her. 

Leinhart had some close followers with him at the front of the ranks, young vampires who seemed to be still growing into their powers. The forces of darkness were beginning to move to where this legendary hydra was supposed to be. Cariella decided that there was no way in hell she would be caught marching with the rabble. Her body melded and disappeared into the surrounding shadows as she traveled up to the head of the pack with the vampire coven. 

Once she emerged from the shadows she began to walk with the vampires, unfurling her fan and waving it in front of her face. 

"Well Master Leinhart, it seems as though your army has grown quite a lot. Hopefully you manage to keep them after your battle with the hydra. Why must you hunt this beast any way, it doesn't seem like your normal quarry?" 

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Ever the quiet observer, Maryanne watched Leinhart wrap his arm around the cross, and smirked at the subtle irony of the act. Keen eyes then turned their attention to the amassed hoard as she slipped into her own thoughts. An eleven headed hydra... taking over the world... Master Leinhart sure doesn't like to do things by halves. Trailing her gaze over the gathering of unsavory sorts, her thoughts were interrupted by the gentle sensation of someone prodding or stroking at the exterior side of her skull. Her lips drew up at the corners once she recognized the visitor, and her mental shield of impenetrable, glittering obsidian shuddered and parted a fraction to let in the mental message. 

On 2/9/2018 at 11:55 AM, Twitterpated said:

"Please tell me you're coming along too da'ling." 

"If I can handle Master Leinhart then I'm sure a Hydra, regardless of how many heads and rows of teeth, will not be enough to deter or cower me. Besides, I have nothing better to do with my infinite time. I'm always looking for something to keep things... interesting. I hope this won't disappoint."

She shot her reply back down the mental link that had been established between them, not needing to even glance in his direction as she watched a particularly interesting lady navigate the crowd. For she could be called no less than a lady as she glided to part the crowd like the red sea. If Leinhart noticed her obvious presence, he gave no indication. But the lady seemed not be the sort to allow his dismissive behavior, making ignoring her impossible as she appeared among them. Maryanne quirked a brow, but said nothing.

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Damien's impatience was starting to show up again. If they were going to go fight the hydra, why couldn't they just GO ALREADY?
Sebastian clearly noticed Damien's mood. "Young Master, I understand that the past several weeks have been rather uneventful for you, but, your father is watching this little job. If the attack on the hydra is successful, he has said that he will come here in person. Both to retrieve you, and speak with Master Leinhart."

Damien was quite uplifted by this. "Dad's coming? HERE? Wait.... how does he know about the hydra?"

Sebastian smiled in the way he did whenever he was going to reveal a 'gotcha' moment. Damien saw that smile more often than he would willingly admit. "Seer spoke of it. I believe he said, 'Leinhart's gonna take Damien and his army and attack a hydra. If you wanna see if he'd be worth an alliance, this would be a good time to watch'."

Yes, that very much sounded like Seer.
As the army started moving, Damien floated above the ground. He outright refused to walk unless he was concealing himself. As concealing himself would yield no help, floating it was.
Finally, something was gonna happen.

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"Splendid!"

He responded once more, though he spared her any prolonged speech within their minds as he much preferred to be near her, to speak to her in person. Alistair found himself falling in with the plethora of persons undead or otherwise, gathering to embark on this quest of great import. Killing two birds with stone before they found themselves committed to marching to their inevitable destination, he took great care to seek out Maryanne as he found himself with the horde. As he searched, he found himself interrupted by ~ Give it time, Son of Istrefi.; Which proved hearty enough of a sudden unwanted response to his thoughts. Not that he quite had an issue with such an intrusion considering it's source being the Master himself. It was amazing how Leinhart always knew what was on his mind, and as if on queue, he had even attempted to put Alistair's mind at ease. Unfortunately, there would be no convincing to be had until they were standing face to face with the Hydra, where he could properly hypothesize his ability to subdue and or control such a beast. Still, even with a surmountable force, the issue was the tact of taking it alive. He would certainly survive this encounter, he held no doubts about that. So long as he survived, so should the Master himself despite Alistair's designated position in the house. Most certainly, no harm would come to Maryanne either, though the reasoning for such a harsh warrant of protection was far from the reasoning he would argue for Leinhart. The only similarity between the two was that they were each respectively a person of his affect. Albeit, in completely different manners. His smile refreshed as his amber eyes found her, a certain twinkle was to be had in his undead eyes. For a moment, he thought he actually felt a beat within his cold, dead, heart. 

"Care to wager on the casualties of this exercise? By my assumptions, we easily stand to lose a few dozen, with several more dozens wounded in the process. Then again, knowing that you'll be by my side, I'm almost willing to argue that perhaps with the right tact we can actually complete our task with little to no loss. Still, I'll stick with my original hypothesis for the sake of a gamble twixt you and I."

@Moonbay

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Nightfall had soon to curtain in a mist of scarlet, the Red Moon stretched past the horizon in wicked glory. All-the-while, what seemed a relatively long journey didn't seem so long lasting after all. It hadn't taken much long for the Dark Legion to make it out the region considered the Haunted Glen and the narrow paths filled with paranormal activities and species of haunt finally, to come into contact with what was known as the focal point of Timber Creek. The Fifty Skeletal Reaper Corps were dispatched miles ahead to aid navigation with their extremely agile ability of flight and keen tracking once every so often, a scout or two reported their sightings to Leinhart to ensure no delays in the progression of march. Leading to the North was no better than, Ponkapoag RiverThe Two thousand and some legionnaires thirsted the blood of the hydra even more, they did not possess courage for it was not a skill set understood by Undead; the lust for destruction influenced them. The bulk of units at the forefront were Undead FiendsLost SoulsVampiresRotting Cadavers, and strong-willed spirit phantom Banshees that delighted the death to any living creature each with a force of One hundred and Sixty-six members. From hundreds of feet in the air the marching legion appeared as tiny spectacles. Behind the company of Choisel were horrifying, snow white Wendigos also with One hundred and Sixty-six in their unit. These once human cannibals standing Fifteen feet tall with sunken eyes deep in the pockets of their sockets were known as the "Evil That Devours". Feeding solely on human flesh, their razor sharp claws and crooked sharp teeth were formidable. To the flanking right about Five hundred meters south, in another division were Hundred Many Handed Ones; guarding them were Fifty massive Cave Trolls of great strength, yet poor intellect followed by the Eight hundred freshly turned Vandom vampires. The list went on, to the rear of the Vandom vampires were Fifty half Shoggoths amoeba like creatures made of iridescent black slime with multiple eyes floating upon it's surface. Protoplasmic, they lacked any true body shape and could form limbs and organs at will. The Fifty Illithid mind flayers of super intelligence had great psionic powers feasting on the brains of other creatures. It's four tentacles by it's mouth were used to penetrate the brain of creatures that could induce insanity, rage, coma, confusion and death.

Leinhart may been unable to control all these unique species, had Vandom not contributed them to him. Truth be told, it was possible that none from the House of Choisel had need to engage in the Elven Headed Hydra directly.

"As long as the Blood from my House is sustained, the numbers sacrificed matter very little to me. Suppose you already know the answer, ma'lady, but only since you insist. Honestly, it is a gift for someone dearly to the coven. A sword is guarded by the hydra told to have extraordinary ancient powers. Perhaps, it could aid me if I've acquired them both? Yet, you can't kill what's already dead. Can you? I shouldn't be worried at all."

The Patriarch turned to face Cariella with a half-shitty grin exposing the upper half of his serrated shark like incisors as he spoke always so eloquently and poised. Judging by her prior malevolent prowess and the fact he once, bid himself a contract with a Grim many years ago only to have been deceived to have never regained his soul; she shared many characteristics other than what met the eye and the dark lord was no fool. Nor was he concerned she could take his soul. Technically, he didn't have one truly to begin, or not one that could be taken. Father Lucif given him life and he was deemed only a piece of his spirit. The rest, locked away forever. Truth be told, Leinhart though a Pureblood vampire could never really ascend into his god-like capabilities. Not until, he had the rest of his soul. But still, he was feared because of who he was and where he came and the lineage of blood carried in his veins. Choisel House was one of Seven, true blood vampire covens and he was their progenitor. Though Cariella made his skin crawl and muscles tense, he was aware she was more friend than foe at least on this occasion. 

Edited by Etched in Stone

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