Description
Flowing black robes cover the slender frame of this human mage. Regal in
appearance, he wears a blue tabard embroidered with a silver raven. His hair
is black and hangs shoulder length from the sides of his cowled hood. His
eyes are a piercing shade of green with speckles of a reddish hue. His skin
is eerily pale, near translucent with tiny blue veins barely visible upon its
surface. His hands are powerful and his elongated fingers are adorned with
jeweled rings. Thick black hair is visible on the backs of his hands and
trails lightly up his forearms. He is handsome yet exudes a menacing aura
of wrongness. A lingering odor of sour blood hangs on his breath.
Role
CHAPTER ONE: LEGACY OF THE BLOODCALL
Added Sat May 27 08:58:44 2006 at level 5:
My name is Crulvane Von Caernslade. I am the last of my namesake. I am also
a Dhamphir, Cursed of the Blood Call. My legacy is blood and my world is
death. I wish to share my history with you, that you might understand what I
have become.
The Blood Call was not always strong in my heart. I was born to human
parents and my upbringing was one of nobility and privilege. My family owned
the largest plantation near the manor of the Burgomaster. Generations of Von
Caernslades had run the plantation and our resources were vast. Hundreds of
slaves from across Thera worked the fields and afforded us the lifestyle
which kings would be jealous of. My father worked hard and was feared by
his enemies.
Thirty years ago a sickness appeared within the ranks of the slaves. They
began to grow weaker and disappearances began to become commonplace. Month
after month, the slaves numbers dwindled until it came a time that my
fathers efforts run the plantation finally failed. Rumors began to swirl
about the land regarding our plantation. Some spoke of the curse of demons,
and others of some god sent plague which worked feverishly to punish our
family. Experts were baffled, and there were no clues to what was taking
place. No clues until I stumbled upon the first of the burial sites.
I was with my sisters collecting snakes near the southern swamp when I found
the first of the bones. An animal had dragged a human arm from out of a bog
and it lay across the path, still partially submerged in the brackish water.
We returned to the house and soon afterwards, my father had the bogs dredged.
They found seventy five bodies.
Panic soon spread throughout the remaining slaves. They rallied and fled our
lands, never to be seen again. Our family was alone.
Soon after the slaves left, my father began acting strange. He disappeared
late at night and could be seen wandering the gardens under the moonlight.
My mother never left the house but the pain upon her face was evident as my
fathers actions became odder by the day. I had never seen my parents fight,
but my father began to act darkly towards us all. Locking himself in his
chambers during the day, he emerged at night with a terrible rage. Once
vented, he resumed his nightly patrols of our properties. My mother was
alone in her suffering.
As the violence escalated my mother began to hide us in the cellar each
nightfall as my father woke. We could hear his screams up above as he
shouted out dark curses. They always passed, and he resumed his nightly
walks. My mother was growing weak with stress.
This continued for several agonizing weeks.
We remained locked in the cellar throughout the nights. No longer did my
father shout with rage, but we could hear voices in our home. A dry
whispering lingered down through the soil undecipherable to our ears. Cruel
laughter usually followed. My fathers madness had manifested itself to
greater levels.
One evening in particular, my life changed. I awoke in the cellar to find a
monster amongst us. A porcelain skinned ghoul with eyes of red flame.
He held my mother to the ground with one cruel hand as he smiled at my
siblings and me. We huddled in the corner of the cellar transfixed with
fear. My mother gurgled lightly as
CHAPTER TWO: LEGACY OF THE BLOODCALL
Added Wed Jun 7 09:06:07 2006 at level 43:
Worming my way through the damp earth I choked on dirt and tendrils of plant
root. Clumps of tunnel crumbled down upon me as I dragged myself away from
the carnage. My breathing was frantic and a claustrophobic fear filled my
senses.
The tunnel narrowed as it arced its way upward. Many hours passed as I
inched along using my fingers to pull myself through the ground. Insects and
grubs crawled upon my skin, stinging my flesh with their probing bites.
Panic overtook me as the lack of clean air began to dull my senses. In a
frenzied last fit of energy I pulled myself into the light.
My body was exhausted and I spent a long time panting for breath in the deep
brush surrounding the house. There was no noise from the manor and I
suspected my father now slept. It was midmorning and despite the presence of
the sun. I felt a darkness emanating from my home.
I knew I would not survive the long trek to the nearest settlement without
supplies, and I also knew I could outrun my father should he stumble upon me,
so I ventured quietly into the rear of the manor. The house was destroyed
and dried blood splatter covered the floors and walls. Bits and pieces of
flesh were spewed about the house. I recall retching in terror as I
recognized this was all that remained of my family.
I am not sure what possessed me to proceed further into the insanity, but I
moved in a dazed sense of shock and horror. I vaguely recall gathering
supplies into a rucksack and then making my way toward the back door. As I
moved to leave, a rasping cry called out from upstairs. It sounded like my
mother and I remember running toward her cries, desperate for her protection.
Climbing the darkened staircase heading to my fathers chambers the cries
intensified. It was my mother and she was sobbing in anguish.
The chamber door opened slowly as I neared. A chill wave of air drifted
outwards from the darkness. My father had boarded up the windows and it took
me a long while for my eyes to adjust.
My mother crouched in the middle of the room. She was naked and covered in
blood. There was no sign of my father and the roomed reeked like a slaughter
house. She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet as moaned and
cried to herself. I could see the wounds on her throat and along her arms
where the creature had fed.
I rushed forward and my movement caused my mother to notice my presence. Her
head flicked up and her eyes locked on mine in recognition. She gazed at me
through blood drenched strands of hair which hung over her face.
She cocked her head slightly and rose to her feet. Without saying a word she
opened her arms and smiled. A semblance of relief passed through me as I
realized she was going to survive the horrors of the previous evening. I
remember embracing her. The feel of sticky blood upon her skin. Her hands on
my back and head as she held me in the darkness.
She was cold, however, and continued to tremble as she caressed the top of my
head. I looked up at last and noticed the sly grin forming in the corners of
her mouth. Her eyes flashed a reddish hue as she held me closer.
Darkness.
(End of Chapter Two)
CHAPTER THREE: ENTER THE NIGHT
Added Thu Jun 8 17:12:26 2006 at level 48:
I awoke to the smell of smoke and hoarse shouts of anger from outside the
house. I felt terribly tired and my throat was tender. A trail of dried
blood coated my neck. There was no sign of my mother.
I stumbled down the stairs and the smell of smoke intensified. The manor was
burning. I coughed and walked in a feeble manner to the front door. A group
of men holding torches shouted at me and motioned me closer. I remember them
splashing a vial of water upon my face and then pulling me to safety after
several moments. They continued to surround the exits and appeared to be
guarding the escape routes from the growing inferno.
I recognized some of the men as former slaves that had worked on the
plantation. They seemed more akin to wild beasts as they screamed and danced
about my burning home. I sat in the darkness and watched the growing flames
consume the manor. Flames leapt fifty feet into the air and the heat felt
like the fires of hell.
It may have been my eyes playing tricks on me but for a brief moment I saw my
mother writhing and flailing through an upper window.
As the fires began to recede the men dispersed. Some of them brought me to a
wagon where I was tended to by an elderly woman. She seemed sad when she
inspected my wounds, but she treated me with kindness and respect.
My last vision of my former home came as I looked back to the smoldering
ruins. Not a single piece of timber remained. As the wagon began to move
from the area, I continued to watch the wisps of smoke drift upwards to the
heavens.
I am not certain of the exact nature of what befell me those fateful days. I
believe that my mother was in the process of changing into something when she
bit me. She had not fully become what was intended. I do know, however,
that these events triggered the first symptoms of the bloodcall.
The next part of my story is far more sinister and is riddled with the
horrors of my changing. The night was closing in on me and damnation was my
soul. Upon silent wings of shadows I began my flight into the abyss.
(End of Chapter Three)