#Legacy of Kain Drabble

[mad-hatter-teacups]

Fear and Gold

(I've been in a bit of a funk and not been able to share some of my LoK OC stuff on here since I was shadowbanned, which if I think about it correctly...I think I was shadowbanned for several YEARS before someone actually brought it to my attention. Anyways, I had an idea for Kain in the future, after Defiance, with how he would have to begin the process of gathering the other guardians of the circle again.

---

It was going to go either one of three ways; violence, death, or fear. It usually was one way which was a combination of all three. At least, that was how Kain had been told. A fourth “secret option” was not how he had expected to be greeted when the Balance Guardian arrived to find Jude draped lazily in a chair, feet up on an ottoman while they looked like they were crunching numbers based on an inventory book on their lap.

“Back so soon, Jude?” Kain eyed the Energy Guardian with mild suspicion. Something had either happened with their assignment or Jude was toying with him. In all fairness, Kain was unlearning some aspects of his distrust in others.

The reply Jude gave was casual, laid back, and hardly concerned that the “Maestro” was addressing them on what may have been a serious matter. “Yup.”

No, no. This wasn’t what Kain was expecting. “You’ll do well to remember that I expect more than one word answers when I question you.”

“Well, I just got back about 2 hours ago, been balancin’ the old man’s checkbook so Cathedral can pick it up later. Somethin’ the matter?” Jude’s posture shifted a bit and although they weren’t quite as tall as the “Maestro”, they stood to meet Kain at eye level.The Balance Guardian noted Jude hadn’t changed their clothes since they had last departed…and not a smattering of blood was on them.

“Okay, so I’m back a little earlier than expected on the schedule. Business went a lot smoother than anticipate but then again you and I both know goin’ to Nachtholm ain’t exactly a leisurely stroll.” Jude gestured lazily to the fireplace within the lounge of the newly erected Sanctuary. “But things were different this time, little unexpectedly different but my hunch was right.”

“Hunch?” Kain arched a brow at Jude with slight disdain. “You made a business decision on a whim? You’re reckless. Not careless. What could have possibly been your thought processes of acting on such a whim being a good idea??” The elder vampire avoided scowling, but it was clear he was tense before the younger guardian.

Jude shook their head and held up a taloned hand to put Kain at ease, or attempt to at least. “Money talks, Kain.” It was a simpler answer than the “Maestro” would expect. At their answer, Jude began to step around Kain, but it was to reach for their tinted glasses they had left on the end table before they took out a small cloth to clean the lenses. “My crew and I went there on business to bust out some fledglings that were gonna be auctioned off to the reigning vampire hunters for slaughter. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that if the people in power ain’t takin’ care of the economy but doin’ rather well for themselves, patience thins to the poor and marginalized.”

Reflexively, as if to show a reminder of Kain’s rank above Jude, he caught the Energy guardian’s wrist as they finished cleaning their glasses. “...If you have a point,” Jude could feel the pressure on their flesh as Kain made a warning as if to dig into it, he hadn’t grabbed their prosthetic arm, meaning he wasn’t in a  gaming mood. “I would advise you to make it.”

Offering Kain a leveled, but careful, look Jude tilted their head. “Me and the crew got to the city just in time for the auction, but we didn’t come unprepared. We brought some significant financial aid for that district where the auction was happening. I decided to make a bid, and drew attention to myself, naturally. You get the idea; gasps, shrieks, faintin’ women.” They waved their free hand idly and mocked a swoon. “The auctioneers were terrified of course, but I just strolled my way forward. The crowd parted, tension hung in the air, and I had a couple of words with the guy in charge. He told me that at the end of the day people would never see the worth of vampires…and I told him that we’d have to see about that and if self preservation spoke more than money did.”

Kain narrowed his gaze at Jude but said nothing, pressing firmer in his grip on Jude’s arm as if to urge them to continue. “Your point, Jude. Get to it.”

“Cathedral and Elbrecht came with me, along with a few of my guys hangin’ in the shadows. All I had to do was snap my fingers and we tipped over some heavy wagons full of gold we brought.” Jude could feel Kain’s grip slacken a bit at this. “Whattaya think happened next, Maestro?”

“...Absolute chaos.” Kain seemed to grimace with slight displeasure. “...You’re a cleaner deal broker than that. Why go through the trouble of a mess?”

“You’d think.” Jude retorted but their tone remained collected and without a callousness to it. “I mean, you’d think that about there bein’ chaos. There was, don’t get me wrong, but more in the sense of watching the masses frantically begin towards the money. Zero casualties though. Couldn’t have people stampedin’ over each other. So my guys kept ‘em in line to prevent panic.

“C’mon, Maesto. I got eyes and ears in solid numbers across the realm in different cities. Black market shit travels faster than Nora (Lenore) sending us all telepathic messages to gather together for you. I was a deal broker, but in this case I was more your, uh, typical charitable donation. No strings attached, but more to send a message.” Kain released Jude’s arm then, watching as the Energy guardian used their prosthetic hand to massage where he’d gripped hard on Jude’s wrist.

“And?” Kain inquired steelily.

Jude smirked. “The people spoke, Maestro. Money won over killin’ the vampires.” Pausing though, the Energy Guardian saw Kain scowl then. “...might have a lot less prejudice from humans if somebody did their job around here instead of pining after one they can’t have.” Mikhail, their Guardian of the States, had become a thorn in Kain’s side.

Jude didn’t need to remind Kain of that and maybe that was their mistake of saying so, because the next thing they knew they were being hurled across the room from the force of Kain’s telekinesis. Jude crashed through a bookcase as pages and tomes flew everywhere. As the dust settled, Kain heard a sneez before Jude was lifting the large shelf off themselves while gazing at the Balance Guardian halfway across the room from them.

Any of the other guardians might have left then and there or apologized, but Jude simply stood up and dusted themselves off as if nothing happened. “...Okay. Fair point. Overstepped there…I didn’t have to say it, but ignorin’ it doesn’t make the problem of our butcher happy States Guardian go away, Maestro.”

“You dare imagine what I think?!” Kain snarled half expecting Jude to take a step back, but the energy guardian stood their ground and gazed back at Kain while they put their glasses back on.

Pushing the tinted lenses up on the bridge of their nose, they ruffled a hand through their faux hawk black hair. “Nah, I don’t wanna be in your head, Maestro. You got enough demons to deal with...ain’t my place to go pickin’ anyone’s brain. Although Mikhail’s should probably be studied.” They dusted the red leather trench coat off and tipped their head back to offer Kain a winning smile. “Lemme know when that happens so I can deliver the goods to Kinyeta. She’s been dyin’ to literally poke at Mikhail’s brain…but then again she’s also got more of a stomach for it than I do. I’d rather give it to the buzzards to be honest.” 

“Kinyeta is the nature guardian. Studying the brain of a decedent isn’t unlike her. She’s always studying some creature’s anatomy and that includes her own.” Kain had a point there. Then again Kain hadn’t managed to stalk, harass, and blackmail his way into a, primarily, male dominated university. Kain had always said Kinyeta was insane, but Jude didn’t think so.

“Well, she’s the only one of us to actually manage their evolution into a literal bat; complete with ears, fur, wings, and all. Mikhail ain’t even “worthy” of the gift he wants from ya and I think we both know that he didn’t come into this world wantin’ peace. He came into it wantin’ problems.”

Kain wrinkled his nose in disgust at the reminder, but he remained steadfast in his decision. “Be that as it may, upsetting the delicate balance of the circle is not a risk I am willing to take at leisure as you are so inclined, Jude.” Kain sneered approaching so he and Jude were in close proximity and they could see the eyes glowing on the Reaver mounted at his back. “...I cannot kill Mikhail, yet. He is not an immediate threat.”

Jude’s brow furrowed and they frowned. “Immediate bein’ the key word. Just don’t second guess yourself, Maestro. I mean that respectfully. You might know what you’re doin’, but Mikhail’s unstable and I’m not sure that you like to gamble in the same way I do…”

“...Are you implying I’ve gambled with fate?” Kain arched a brow curiously.

“I dunno, that coin been dropped to start turnin’ again?” Jude’s question held a weight to it that Kain was not yet ready to answer. 

[cheerful-sixears]

~\\\MASTERLIST///~

\\-STATUS: OPEN

[any question? I'm chill, just ask!]

\-For: Headcanons, Drabbles [ Canon x Reader, F/OxS/I primarily]

\\\-WHAT & WHO I WILL WRITE?-/ / /

[-LIST-] - Lego Monkie Kid

[-LIST-] - Transformers Animated

~\\\ART/OC TOPICS:

-\\\Lego Monkie Kid/JttW\\\

"Monkie Kid" Keely/Papillon - [Post/Art]

Papillon/Muse/Anthro - [Art/mini-showcase]❣︎[Papillon w/ 🦋]❣︎ [blorbo bleebus]

with Macaque - [X]

Papillon & Devin's [MAIN] Ref Sheets - [Art/Refs]

[To Be Continued...]

-\\\Transformers\\\

Transformers OC #3; Turbine - [Post/Art]

Transformeres OC #1; KickStorm - [X] [X]

Kicks' with Orbit: [X]

Transformers OC #2; Booptimus Convoy - [Post/Art/List]

-\\\Legacy of Kain/Nosgoth\\\

LoK OC #1; Kryyptus the Wretched - [Post/Refs]

Lok OC #2; Realistic Kryyptus art - [Post/Art]

~\\\WRITING STUFFS:

-\\\Lego Monkie Kid/JttW\\\

Ask 'F/O' games: [X] Maccy

-\\\Transformers\\\

Fearless Frontlines; Prologue - [prologue/1/2/3/4 ...]

Bayverse Autobots Try Monster Drinks - [Post]

TF[RiD’15]: Steeljaw X G/N canine/wolf-bot reader - [Post]

TF[RiD'15]: Bumblebee, Grimlock, StrongArm, Fixit & Sideswipe react to a Goat-Like Cybertronian!Reader on their team. - [Post]

TFA OneShots: [X]

-\\\Crash Bandicoot\\\

A Few Choice Words (Pinstripe Potoroo x self/OC) - [Post]

-\\\Legacy of Kain\\\

What the Hexx? [P1,P2,P3,P4,P5,P6,P7[bonus]]

-///IMAGINE THIS WITH YOUR F/O\\\-

Comfy Night Time Car Ride: [X]

\\\DNI's/RULES/FOOTNOTES\\\

-DNI IF: you are/or support pr*sh*pping/c*msh*pping, are a minor [do not follow me]; or are Z*os, M*PS, P3DOs, ...if it's morally unreasonable, I'm not with it.

-I ONLY WRITE GN READERS OR "GENDER NEUTRAL" as a survivor and Trans Man, please respect my boundaries and levels of comfort. I'll go as far as 'descriptive' as I'm comfortable with, as well.

-Be aware that these are topics I absolutely will not ever be persuaded to write EVER: noncon/r*pefantasy, und*r*ge, T-slurs of any kind, characters that I blacklist due to discomfort, [more as I recall them]

[dragabond]

Thinking about that Legacy of Kain/Bloodborne crossover I thought up and wrote exactly One (1) drabble of on ao3

I wanna write more for it bc I have so many ideas but I don’t have the time or energy to write it all in a coherent manner

[rahab-of-the-sea]

Battle of the Fane

Long had it been since the Fane had ever been attacked. Weak and perishing humans that rebelled against their vampiric ‘gods’ only dared to do so. But now a new conflict raised, one that followed short of Raziels fall from grace.

Unaware of their Sires decent into the Lake of Death, the Razielim had not expected the Turelim to storm into the Fane followed shortly by the Dumahim. They came marching through the heavily fortified gates, ruthlessly destroying anything and anyone in their path. While their banners held high in the air, the Razielim, much like their sire, had also developed the wing like feature. Not as beautiful in design as their sire, they were still able to take the advantage of the fight to the sky. This is the account of those that fought in the Battle of the Fane.

“ Where is Raziel? Why have the Turelim and Dumahim come here with such ego and confidence? “ The stern voice echoed in the dome like room. Five of Raziels strongest brood stood in a circle within the room, arms folded as they looked between one another. The other clans had yet to destroy the gates that shielded them from outside attacks, however considering the Turelim and their strength and abilities, it was only a matter of time.

“ There is no need to bicker, we need to assemble the others and prepare for a possible attack! “ Another one of the five shouted back.

“ Without Raziel? We could be killed on the spot for such a thought let alone to speak it out loud! Have you lost your mind Brother? “

“ No! No I have not! What I find odd is that while the council was called and hours have now passed, we have not seen our Sire and suddenly Turelim and Dumahim stand outside our Sires gates? Does this not alarm you? “

Turmoil took hold of the five as they shouted back and forth at one another, their words seeming to almost blur into one anothers. A single sentence was almost impossible to make out. Panic took hold of them, they were the strongest and yet they were now utterly defenseless. Caught off by surprise by the Sires absence and without knowing of what had come to take place, the Razielim only had their pride and bickering to save them. If that.

When a loud bang emitted through the air, shacking the cavernous walls around the Fane causing small rocks to fall to the ground, the Five Razielim took to the large and beautiful balcony their sire once would stand at. From there they could gaze out towards the Gates, the only entrance and exit.

Yet what they could see was only smoke and a hint of flame that was ever so slowly fading. From bellow they saw their fellow comrades take to the sky, as some of them did they could see a few begin to ‘fall’.

“ What is going on?! “ One of the five yelled in panic.

“ Is it not obvious? We are under attack! “ The fifth said, he was shorter then the others as he drew a horn from his side and blew into it.

A call to arms, the other Razielim within the Fane knew the meaning of such a horn. It was loud, deep but it had a sound to it that was chilling and unearthly like. It was enough to make other Vampires shiver in fright as the Razielim took to arms, grabbing nearby weapons and screaming loudly with pride as they took to fighting.

As the smoke began to clear it was already too late to see what had happened. Turelim had stormed into the Fane, slamming their ugly large weapons about and destroying their homes and any that got in their way. Like tiny ants to be squished. Then there was the Dumahim. They were fast and agile, leaping into the air and tearing at the wings of Razielim, injuring many in their attack.

“ Too arms! “ The First yelled as he drew out a long sword and took flight. Like a fool rushing into battle to where the smoke lay heaviest.

“ Too Arms! “ The second yelled out, she was fine and agile, a deadly weapon she withdrew from behind her back, like that of a scythe it posed a threat to any that was caught in its wake.

“ Too Arms! “ The Third one bellowed, the largest of them, he with drew a sword and busted into the sky, high above before changing course and slamming himself into the grounds below. Creating a shock wave like attack that caused Dumahim to fall to their knees but the Turelim only merely shocked for a few seconds. Enough for nearby Razielim to attack.

“ Too Arms!” The Fourth called, following her sister she too had a similar weapon as to the Second.

“...Too death...” The Fifth finally said as he put away his horn and sighed.

He had been by Raziels side from what felt like the start of Kains empire. Although not considered the first in the five, what he lacked in strength he compensated for in brains.

Making a signal in the air he gestured for nearby Razielims to gather together and perform a single blow attack. Yet it was not enough. Turelim where already too powerful as it was, and any that managed to remain in the sky where quickly pulled down by Turelim. Dumahim were warriors by nature, like predators they worked both by themselves and together. They were strong in their own ways, sometimes able to reach those that took to the air, but they still were not strong enough to hold out against winged enemies.

The Fifth attempted to assist a small group of young Razilim Fledglings that had been cornered, but by the time he flew close enough, it was too late. Witnessing the death of Fledglings was not something he had signed up for.

It was at that moment the Fifth could see this was a loosing battle and even if they did win, what would come of it? Their home was destroyed and many where injured with only a few humans to feed off, it wasn’t enough. They were caught red handed by the enemy.

“ Fall back! “ The Fifth yelled but his brothers and sisters in arms did not listen, too fixed on the fight, too prideful to give up.

Only a handful of Razielim had heard the Fifth call out and they followed. For the Turelim and Dumahim did not know of the secret tunnels below that Raziel himself had made sure were constructed. Only a few selected knew of this, the Fifth being one of them. Through the tunnels he asked them to follow him, those that did follow where already badly injured and unable to fight anymore. Those that still could were already on their limits.

“ Where are we going? “ A Razielim called out to which the Fifth was quick to answer.

“ A cave to the south, there we can regroup, feed and become strong.”

What the Fifth lacked to mention was the fact they would never be able to fight back ever again, their forces were depleted and without their Sire they had no right to fight back. Only the fifth remained unscathed minus a few scratches. He should have ensured that the tunnel was lost, but he assumed the Turelim where too dense to realize it and probably destroy it by accident.

Back within the Fane remained one of the sisters. She had watched, one by one, each of the others fall. The Fifth she assumed had already died beneath the rubble as the Turelim began to use explosives to toss into the air and injure any that could still fly away. With a broken leg and no humans nearby to feed off, the Razielim fell to the ground helpless as she looked up at her approaching enemies. Out of breath and exhausted, her wings torn by scratches from Dumahim, there was no point in escaping and even if she could she would rather die here on the spot.

“ When Raziel returns, you shall suffer his wrath! “ She spat at the ground at the approaching Turelim, to which could only bellow a deep laughter.

“ Raziel is dead. Taken by the Lake of Death, like any other traitor! “ The Turelim spoke with an odd cheer in their voice.

“ Unlike your sire, I shall spare you the pain and suffering of burning in water. Think of this as a mercy killing! “ It was clear from the start there was no escaping this as the Turelim spoke. Perhaps the Fifth was right, if only they had of acted faster.

She watched with yellow hued eyes as the hammer was raised high above her and then like a flash of lighting there was darkness. No more pain, no more screams of her fellow Razielim that had fallen. Nothing. Nothing but the faint glow of something different, the spectral realm were her soul and other Razielim souls shall forevermore be lost.

While the battle came to a short end, the Turelim where prideful in their own way, claiming victory to the lands as their own. The Dumahim were not pleased with this and a ravenous battle began. The fight between the Turelim and Dumahim lasted for almost a decade before it was flooded by water. The leaking source was never found, but it only left the ruins of Nosgoths once beautiful land, the Fane, in ruin. Like a sunken treasure lost to those that could not venture there.

Only one such Vampire had the delight, it had taken almost 1 hundred years, just a few years before the war between the humans and Vampires took place. For Rahab floated in the water, gazing at the statue that was now broken and destroyed during the fight. The statue of Raziel. Raziels head was the only thing that was still able to be made out among the pile of rubble. He’d been so prideful. Too Prideful. His ego lead to one thing, and then to another. Rahab though couldn’t care much for it anymore. He always despised Raziel to some point, while Raziel was given the beautiful lands and divine like beauty, Rahab had been given cursed lands that took him hundred of years to properly claim for himself and not to mention his own features.

There was power in silence. Power in waiting and power in pain.

“ Did you finally get to see it? “ a voice echoed in his head as Rahab rolled his eyes.

It was a Whisper, a Dark gift that Kain had given to them after Raziels fall. a Dark gift that only Rahab made good use of.

“ There is nothing left, Zephon. It is nothing but a mere pile of rubble. “ The vampire responded in a short kind of tone. His lips never truly moving.

“ Then so be it. Let us scheme against Turel and claim what is rightfully mine! “ Scheming, always scheming. Zephon had no end, but Rahab could play it to his cord.

“ Then so be it, let our gift that Kain has given us prove useful. Let us take back what is ‘yours’ and Usurp Turel “

Calm and collect Rahab was, unlike Zephon who was far too eager to find any leaver to pull just to make ends meet. Rahab on the other hand was calculated and cold like his amphibious like features, he seemed to have little heart or care for others. All he wanted was Kains favor and he knew from the start that it would be a long process. Raziels ‘departure’ though was an unexpected one, one that came with an advantage.

Yet before Rahab could leave, he spotted the faintest glimmer of something behind a pile of rubble. A tunnel, could it be possible that some of Raziels brood had survived? A sly smirk crossed Rahabs lips. If that was the case, then they too would prove useful. For Rahab was already aware of the Humans defenses suddenly growing in number and the Sarafan were starting to gather together. That could only mean one thing and if so, Razielim that remained could prove useful.

[kainissoable]

The Queen of Swords

The Sarafan were too many to fight, but there were other ways. Umah haunted pubs and brothels, her face obscured half by hair and half by heavy makeup. Men were often susceptible to a smile from a pretty face. A private room, a raised skirt, a glint of steel, and that was an end to them.

There had been finer assassins, but they had all been bought or killed by an enemy she could not fight. Vorador still had faith in a future and a fallen lord. Umah had long ago learned she could trust in nothing but her blade.

[hedjeroo]

my wrist still isn't doing so well, so i did a drabble (100 words exactly!) for today's prompt

if you’re interested in doing this challenge, check out the prompt list!

[hedjblogr]

hey so real talk

i fell out of reading after i left secondary school, in a big way

i used to be a voracious reader; i was well above my reading age as a kid, i was writing fanfic in school for creative writing projects, i actually enjoyed a lot of the materials we were made to read genuinely

but once it was no longer required of me and i had other things to fill my dwindling time, it became harder for me to actually let myself sit and focus on a book or any form of writing

because once i start reading something i'm dead to the world until i'm done or find a good point to pause

and after secondary school it became a lot easier for me to socially isolate myself for long periods, completely by accident most of the time, and so i became a lot more lonely, and things that would isolate me from social contact became harder to invest in

gaming took over any free time i had and i would struggle with single player games or games where i couldn't talk to people while i played them or somehow share the experience

games are fantastic, and they do keep the mind active and introduce new ideas, but they're not books, they're not written works - i feel like with books your mind has to work a lot harder to really comprehend interpretation and context, and to picture things clearly. games kind of do that for you

so, i've gone years having books sit around and not really reading them, though i still collect some here and there to tell myself "i'll get to these when i can manage" - not just fiction even. while i have a fair few terry pratchett books, and i'm building a small collection of stephen king, and i've got some tolkien too, but i also have a book on adhd, a book on anxiety, and a book on internet language that took my fancy - i've looked at and bought and read business books but only for work purposes

now, that isn't to say i haven't read at all - i just tend to read roleplays above everything else because the personal involvement and the social connection provides me a second level of engagement, and i'm motivated by sharing my reactions - and hearing other people's reactions on my own roleplays too

at this point, especially in the current climate, reading a book disconnects me from social interaction entirely for as long as i'm reading it - i mean, unless i liveblog it or something

fic is a little different since it's online and generally it's encouraged to interact with fic writers, but i never got into fic communities, and for some reason had this weird aversion to them? i'm not even sure what my deal has been, maybe shyness, maybe anxiety

the point that i'm getting at here is that me reading fanfic is kind of a big thing, and yet, since i got brought into the legacy of kain fandom i've been more inclined to actually sit down and read fic

it started because my dear friend rose linked me a LoK fanfic after sending me a few snippets and getting me interested, and now when i see others in the fandom posting fanfic, i actually give it a look in instead of avoiding it and man, as it turns out i have a lot of similar ideas, but also i find some fantastic takes and ideas i never considered and it improves my enjoyment of the series massively

of course i also desperately want to write fanfic of my own now too, both solo and with others - i've not wanted to do that for a REALLY long time barring stuff geared specifically towards roleplay?? like, i enjoyed writing drabbles for undertale but not like, the core game...

so as well as thanking @skeleshits for dragging me into the comfiest hell i have ever been in and writing some really fucking good stuff with me, i'd like to thank... like, anyone who writes LoK fanfic, but @kainissoable and @dongtopus especially, and yellowdancer on ff (who wrote dispossessed, which was the initial fic i read, and mea culpa, which i read later)

this got long but i had to yell a bit about this because i'm feeling very emotional right now shhhh

[theoreticalconstruct]

Multiamory March fic - Purpose

Multiamory March Day 3: Purpose.

Cecil/Kain/Rosa drabble, because I seem to be stuck on FFIV right now for some reason.

---

Kain had always, always craved purpose.

The King and Queen both knew it. It was why he had even defied the king to follow the path of the Dragon Knight, because someone had to carry on his family legacy. And it was why Golbez's brainwashing had struck him so deeply - it had made him useful to someone, even if it was for evil means.

It is why they know they cannot force him to come back. No matter how much they want him there, they can't keep him - they cannot force a purpose on him, and he will not be happy without one. But they'll wait for as long as he needs.

[malicedragoness]

Malice Dragoness? Who is she?

Just a little bit more about myself. I’m hard at work on everyone’s drabbles, and I’m super excited to present them to you!

But if you were interested to see a little more of who I am. I thought I might share. :)

Malice Dragoness? How did you get that name?

When I was middle school I started reading R.A. Salvatore’s Drizzt Do’Urden series. I really liked the character Matron Malice, even though she was a total bitch. I tend to like the villains in stories more than the actual heroes. So when I joined a forum specifically for his books, I went under the name Malice the Dragon Girl. I was twelve years old and thought it was dope. (God I feel so dumb). 

Then I shortened it to Malice Dragon. But apparently other people liked that screen name. So, I added the -ess at the end to make it sound a little more feminine. Like baroness, mistress. You get the idea. So Malice Dragoness was born.

Who are you?

My name is Nichole. I’m married, I’m a mother of one. 

I just got back into writing again. I’ve felt more inspired than ever to sit down and finally put to paper. And it’s definitely the first time I’ve shared my work online where I’ve felt comfortable about it. I remember writing fan fiction yeaaaars ago. And my god was it awful! I look at it now and cringe.

But everyone has to start somewhere. And it only gets better the more you write. Sometimes, you just have to throw words on a page and keep going before you find out the direction you want to take.

I’m certainly in a much better mind set than I was about two years ago. I was very cynical, sarcastic, and not very much fun to be around. But I’ve certainly grown as a person, as we all do. You won’t be the same person you are five ago. Which is fine! Maybe you’ll be that person you want to be five years in the future! :D

There’s that positive thinking I love so much! I try to approach everything with a better attitude, which my daughter helps me out with alot. She is my little star that I do everything for. If I can pop out a beautiful daughter that makes me happy. Then I know I can do anything I put my mind too.

How old are you?

Hah! You may be surprised, but I’m 28 years old. (some lovely ladies thought I was 25 at the oldest! Oh how wonderful of them! *looks at the Kabal chat group*) My birthday is in April, I’m an aries.

What do you do for a living?

I’ve been in the animal field for over five years now. I worked at a shelter for four and half years, and have been working at a clinic for almost year. Yes, it’s cute to see all the fuzzy animals. But it’s also a very heart breaking career to be in. Not everything ends so wonderfully like you see on facebook or twitter or whatever.

There’s some stupid people, non responsible owners, and people who just don’t give a shit. It’s not always happy go lucky.

However, I think it’s time to move on from the animal field. Mainly that clinic I work at. Because I really don’t appreciate the male aggression that seems to be perfectly acceptable there. >:C

 What other things do you like besides Mortal Kombat?

I’m really more into fantasy than sci-fi. But my favorite things are: Elder Scrolls, Dragon age, Darth Maul, Legacy of Kain, X-Men(not as much anymore), Swamp Thing, The Witcher, Magic The Gathering, wrestling.

My top five favorite games of all time, that I can play at any given time: Star Wars: Republic Commando, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Dragon Age: Origins, Blood Omen 2, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic.

Favorite comic books: Irredeemable, Swamp Thing, Sandman, Rat Queens, X-Men, Shadowpact.

My favorite book series: Drizzt Do’Urden sagas by R.A. Salvatore (this is what inspired me to start writing and world building), Demonata series by Darren Shan, The Lies of Locke Lamora by: Scott Lynch, and a lot of Forgotten Realms books.

Who are your favorite characters?

In no particular order: RC1207 Sev, Darth Maul, The Plutonian, Jarlaxle, Storm, Mileena, Swamp Thing, Drizzt Do’Urden.

Anything else you want to say?

Well, if anyone wants to talk to me, please feel free to do so. I won’t bite! I’m just kind of socially awkward at first. And if you ever want to talk about writing ideas, or just need help to brainstorm, I would be more than happy to help!

I love when people find their creative spirit and just get to writing, drawing, making music, or whatever floats your boat. It’s a truly wonderful and enjoying thing. And sometimes you just need a friendly stranger to cheer you on.

Have a nice day! :D

[blackjacketmuses]

hc; kain (drabble)

set literally just post-game; kain being a self-destructive idiot.

He slips away before they return to Baron.

They won’t notice, he thinks -- they hardly ever do. It tastes like ashes in his mouth, the bitterness, but it’s mixed with a tired sort of resignation that he’s grown close to of late. They have much to do ahead of them, anyhow. To rebuild, to reclaim, to be welcomed back as heroes -- as king. It won’t matter if he’s there or not. No one should want him there, regardless.

He camps that first night in the Mist Cave. Why, he’s not sure, but perhaps a sense of punishment. It’s fitting, at the very least.

He wonders how they’re doing, briefly, but shies away before he can think too hard on it. He loves them -- he loves them more than he’ll ever love himself, he knows that as certain as he knows the sky is blue. He would die for them a thousand times over. And yet...

And yet, as much as he loves them, how could he-- there’s still that part, that traitorous, cowardly, horribly selfish part of him that seethes and rages and resents, and would that he knew where it lay, he would take up a dagger and cut it out of him like a sickness.

How can he face them, how can he watch their smiling faces, their forgiving faces, and know that somewhere in him is a knot of horrible, festering darkness that has been in him for years, that set him against the people he would rather tear out his own heart than injure? How can he face them without excising that part of him and burning it to cinders?

He shifts slightly where he sits propped against the cave wall, and looks up at the vaulting ceiling above him -- he remembers the last time he was here, the fog so thick he could hardly see his spear in front of him, the keening cry of the dragon, the-- 

--the fire searing him through his armor, the girl’s screaming sobs, the rumble in the ground as a giant thing only seen in picture books and old wives’ tales reaches from the earth to tear it asunder, Cecil’s horrified expression--

The keening cry, he realizes, is himself, and he all but shoves his fist into his mouth to quiet it. He’s struck with the sudden urge to destroy something, to tear himself apart until he finds whatever it is rotten within him that has caused him to be so-- so terrible-- 

He comes back to himself a moment later and his hands sting, and he slowly takes in the helmet that lies in front of him, its draconic face about as destroyed and disfigured as a desperate man can manage with only the strength of his will and a pair of nail-tipped gauntlets. Something about it strikes a chord in him and he bends double, uncertain whether he’s laughing like a madman or sobbing like a child.

His hair falls in his face, free of the mask that pinned it back for so long (how long has it been since he’s taken off his helmet, his armor? he wonders if it’s glued to his skin now like actual scales), and he scrapes it back, wincing as his gauntlet drags against his skin. And again, as it simply swings back into his face. How long has it gotten? It occurs to him that he must not have trimmed it a long time-- it occurs to him that he cannot hardly remember what his own face looks like, and a burst of hysteric laughter bubbles from his throat.

His hand drops to his side after the third time he shoves his hair out of his face and it finds the dagger in his boot -- he contemplates it for a moment (excise the rot, purge the sickness) and before his mind catches up he’s reaching behind him and with a scrape and a tug he feels a weight in his hand and something so much less weighing the back of his head. 

His ponytail -- so long, so much of it, so pale golden-blond that it reminds him of Hers and makes him toss it into the fire -- burns brightly, and he hacks unevenly at his bangs until they stay out of his face. The sight of the burning hair makes him laugh again, and he does draw blood this time when he scrapes at his face to wipe away tears.

He stares at the blood on his gauntlet and then scrabbles at the leather straps, tearing it off him and throwing it hard enough that he can hear it bounce all the way down to the lower levels of the cave system. Feeling strangely freer for it, the rest of his armor follows an the noise is enough to wake every sleeping creature in the cave (and he almost hopes it does), but there he is, stripped bare of everything that had made him who he was -- gone is the long hair, the envy of half the Dragoons, gone is the armor, his pride and legacy. All he is is a selfish bastard of a man in leathers and a loose tunic, hair shorn short and messy and uneven. 

He still has his lance, though, and-- he may loathe himself, loathe the rotting core of his soul, but he’s not stupid. That stays.

It isn’t until the next morning, staring out at the burnt-out shell of the village he  helped destroy, that he knows where he’s going. The mountain. Mysidia. That place, the one He had entered a dark knight, the black armor having cloaked his soul in shadow (but never making it rot, never staining it, not like him whose soul has always been somehow broken) and exited something better, something purer.

Purer...if he were to climb that mountain, brave whatever trial lay atop it, would he come out cleansed? Would this dark and horrible thing in his heart finally die, finally leave him free of resentment, of bitterness, free to feel safe around the ones he loves so deeply?

Well...it was worth a try, at least. And if he was wrong...then the mountain could have him.

It would be better for them either way.

[rahab-of-the-sea]

Christmas in Nosgoth

Before Raziels execution, during the early days of Kains empire when all the Clans had settled in their lands and had adapted well over the centuries, another year was slowly passing them by once more an new one was soon to begin, yet there was nothing but desolation in the land of Nosgoth. The dusty barren lands held no life to them, even the monsters that had once claimed them seemed to have dwindled in size and become on the verge of extinction.

For those of Kains sons, in each clan territory, things carried on the same. Feed on humans, torture humans, train hard, feed on more humans and so on. Nothing for them seemed out of the ordinary.

Raziels clan were always so gluttonous with their self egoistic and self assured nature. They thought of themselves as royalty over the others and felt like they only needed to feed most of the time in their lush feeding rooms. In the hotter lands where the lava flows like water, Turels own Clan were too busy in training hard to improve themselves and creating armor and weapons in their blacksmith lairs. They were always good at keeping to their own business unless Razielim caused a scene somewhere. Though Turelim and their leader were always far too busy training to be stronger and more powerful then the rest. Like an underdog that was just waiting for the chance to rise up.

In the far side was Dumahs lands. They were similar to the Turelim, train, eat, train, eat. Although perhaps Dumah himself liked to busy himself personally with vampiric affairs, he never seemed to distracted or did he ever seem to lack. He always seemed close to Raziel at times, but such visits were rare between the two lords. Meanwhile in the high up mountains where an abandoned cathedral lay to ruin was Zephon. Perhaps one of the strangest of clans to be known. Always in hiding and sticking to the shadows when their master didn’t task them on spying, even with the smoke in the air they never seemed to venture out of their little ruin.

Zephon most of all was the master behind his puppets, or so he saw his own clan as. He’d send out scouts to different areas to study, observe and inform Zephon of the on goings in other Clan areas. He couldn’t care much for Humans besides them being a simple filling meal from time to time. His clan was perhaps the busiest but they were always hiding. Between the twisted self torture routines, they never seemed like the other clans.

Another with an oddity was Melchiah. He’d taken ownership of the necropolis area. His clan was almost similar to Zephons. They never ventured out much . Always kept to their own clan area. The only time any of them left was to find food when needed, attack humans when a battle has been arranged but usually Melachahim weren’t the strongest and always left aside with the Zephonim. Their physical strength was little to non and therefore the Turelim, Razilim and Dumahim were the ones always on the front lines. However Melchiah and his clan would carry about their days as per usual, study the arts of Necromancy and death, feed, study more. Their Lord had his own interests in arts, crafting from the flesh of humans was one of his many talents. But one Clan compared to all was the most reclusive. Rahabim.

Unlike the others, Rahabim were an in between of offensive and defensive. They were not like Zephim ad Melachahim, nor did they possess the strength of Dumahim or Razilim. They would barley be able to win an arm wrestling match against a Turelim. They were unique but more so keepers of the sea. They had a sense of pride the others did not, but also had adapted to their sires jealous like nature towards the other clans. They trained hard, submerged in water for hours, days and even weeks to become ‘stronger’ and more able. They studied during their spare time or collected artifacts for their Lord, and then when they could, they would feed. Feeding was needed mostly for the fledglings, but once the more mature ones managed to adapt to water like their sire, they themselves trained in the arts of fighting. Unlike Dumahim or Zephonim. They ‘danced’. Their agility made them unique in ways, but their ability to adapt to water and use it as a weapon made them all the more powerful.

Even the fledglings had an ego to them. They didn’t see themselves as nobles, kings or royalty. They simply saw themselves better then the others, more dangerous and yet they kept it to themselves. Never once mentioning their own egoistic nature or desires to be better. Perhaps that was what made them dangerous. Collect, calm and calculated. Never on the front lines, but always watching and waiting. Plotting and designing new ways to expand Kains Empire. For Rahab himself, his days were never dull. Musical instruments healed his burning soul, or what remained of it, and he’d study between the cultures of humans and war tactics. He always tried to find a way to be better then the others without exactly showing off like Raziel would do. All Rahab wanted was to gain Kain’s favor. He wanted to be the no.1, he wanted to be the best but he never showed it. There was also his love for fighting, he’d train alongside the others, even assist fledglings in adapting to water much better.

Yet on this day he felt something odd. Information had been passed down from a Zephonim spy that the humans in one of their guarded cities where celebrating some kind of odd festival. Rahab had always found that understanding his enemy better is key to their downfall. He’d waited until late that evening before he would venture out on his own lands and into human territory. When he came to the old city he watched from outside is high prison like walls. The sky was softly lite by the glow of the cities lights from amber candle lights. It seemed silent in there, all but the faintest sound of singing could be heard.

This perked the Vampires ears a little. For the songs they sung were between cheerful and calm, yet the tone was enough to almost subdue the vampire into a lull state, almost forgetting his original purpose. He needed to understand why these humans carried on this way, was it because the year was ending in just a few short days? Perhaps they thought they had conquered the vampires by hiding? Curiosity edged the vampire lord on as he found a way to get to the inner sanctum of the city. As much as he hated the idea, the pipping from the sea that led into the city were helpful as the vampire lord found himself in the darkness of the humans drainage. The mixture of odd smelling humans decorated in a spice like smell and the scent of the salty water had an odd combination that was somewhat bitter but somewhat nice.

From one of the metal gratings in the city, Rahab was able to look up and peer into the city. He saw colors of red, green and white that decorated the area. Rahab didn’t comprehend this, was it perhaps the humans color that symbolized them or their city? Then there was a decorative banner, it was ancient as time could be and there appeared to be a man on it. A halo decorated around his head illuminating his white wiry hair, his robes where distinctive. Red and white with a cross on the white sashes. Rahab knew this was a saint, he’d seen many human artworks of their beloved saints, but this one was different. He’d never seen such a saint honored in such an odd way. Why did the humans sing softly with cheer and the children play late of night? Did they no longer fear the vampires or a possible attack?

A bitterness inside Rahab grew as he grumbled softly. He needed a closure look and so he found himself walking further and further into the city through the pipping until he came to a dark alley way where a single metal grate was his doorway into this strange human city. Rahab could have almost laughed at how easy it was to get in here. They were so unaware, so focused on this saint and singing, which made Rahab all the more curious. He did not intend to feast while he was here, he’d wait to be safely back in his own lands for such a thing. Despite how defenseless they where, there was another task at hand. One of knowledge.

Then there was a rumbling that made Rahab snapping turn his head in the direction of the noise, drums began to loudly go off accompanied by a barbaric sound of yelling and beastly gurgling. Rahab peered around the corner, there he saw a line of humans clapping and laughing, others were screaming in horror and fear. The different scents made Rahab confused, for he didn’t understand this at all. As he found himself moving through the shadows to get a better look, he watched these odd beasts stomp about. They were not demons, nor where they a resemblance of any vampires. perhaps the red ones seemed like demons but it was odd.  Then there were the goat like ones, but they stood on two legs and banged drums about like humans. They had horns on their heads, decorated where some, others not so much. They laughed and taunted various children. Some younglings were even grabbed, gently hit with these odd stick like tools similar to a human broom. Other younglings where picked up and placed inside a primitive looking cage made of sticks, some where carried on the backs of these beasts. The children will wail in horror and it seemed these beasts would cart the children off, but then they would release them back to their parents, whom only seemed to laugh. How odd this was.

A saint, cheerful singing and beasts kidnapping and then releasing children? What on Nosgoth did these humans celebrate? Had the humans really falling so far in their culture and ways to be lunatics? None of this seemed to make any sort of sense. It was disgraceful, disturbing but also it made Rahab curious. He needed to know more. As the parade of these beasts left there came a man, he obviously wasn’t the one in these banners, but his attire was similar to this saint. He walked around and gave small gifts to the humans, the tiny younglings that had been crying before hand where now glowing with joy and happiness. Was this like some twisted experiment similar to the Zephonim? a way to make younglings stronger?

More songs followed with the presence of the fake saint and his false praising words. And then, then there was silence. As the fake saint left, the humans joined their hands together in an odd manner, their eyes closed and then they just seemed to fall silent. Did they just fall asleep? Moving from one small little house to the next, Rahab observed them and their odd nature. It was only then, during his moments of movement, did he find a book on a small outside wooden table. The title was Saint Nicholas And the Krampus. An odd title and odd names but Rahab took it, pouching it behind his back. Perhaps it would have more useful content then these humans.

So time drew on before the humans, one by one, seemed to come back to life from their small slumber. They then moved off to their little houses and it was then that Rahab withdrew carefully back to the Alley and down into the pipping once more. He had witnessed something bizzare, something truly terrifying but also intriguing. Briefly he glanced down at the book once more from its secure position by his side before he ventured through the narrow pipping and back out toward the sea. He had once made the mistake of swimming his way back with such ‘precious’ and fragile items these humans created. Books where not meant to survive in water obviously. Therefore Rahab didn’t wish to make the same mistake. A small boat was sighted, unoccupied thankfully as Rahab took possession of it and sailed his way back to his home. It was much more time consuming, but during the time he read over the book, he hadn’t even gotten past the first few chapters of it. By the time he arrived back to the safety of his clan land, the Drowned Abbey was a blissful sight to see, compared to the human city. Yet what Rahab understood was that the humans where reenacting the story of this saint and these devil beasts called Krampus’. It was still bizzare but Rahab found it oddly beautiful. Retreating to his private chambers, the vampire lord was determined to understand more of this celebration. Though it may lack use for Kain, it certainly didn’t lack use for Rahab of his clan.

[rahab-of-the-sea]

Once upon a time

There was a warrior dedicated to living and breathing for the circle of nine. A warrior so devote that it never crossed his mind that what he had done might have been wrong. Children, women, men, staked or propped high like some flag, left to have their flesh rot to the core of their very dark hearts.

With blue eyes the warrior looked out across the killing fields and took in a long deep breath. Blood, dirt and other grit littered his face through the slit in his helmet he could see through. To him this was a master piece, a work of art as his eyes traced over the faces of the fallen vampires.

In the distance was a bugle call as the Sarafan known as Rahab drew in one final deep breath, the taste of blood lingered in his mouth as he forced himself to turn his back to the corpses of vampires and humans alike. Every muscle in his body, from his biceps to his very feet, ached in agony. For this battle had gone on for several days and finally the Sarafan had been somewhat successful.

Many of his own warriors had fallen in this fight though, it stung a bitter pain in his chest to know and accept their fate, however in battle Rahab had proven worthy of his title to become an elite warrior of the Sarafan. For the battle had been failing drastically before a few of the elite guards had been ordered to assist, Rahab being one of them.

Once more the horn was sounded, it was not of triumph though but rather the sound of retreat. Scouts had found another group of Vampires that were marching their way here, to these very blood soaked grounds. Even Rahab knew he needed rest and to fight a battle in his state would only result in death. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he pulled the helmet from his head and let the cool air hit his face that was slightly red and overheated. Allowing the beaded droplets of sweat and blood mixed together to trail down his face.

With each step his armor clanged and cranked against one another, its weight was heavy but not enough for Rahab to notice, for the warrior had learned to fight in such situations and circumstances and had trained hard to be the best that he could. As he walked passed others he could catch their glances from the corner of his eyes.

To them he wasn’t a hero, he was an elite warrior priest forged in the Sarafan stronghold from day one of his arrival there. They all feared and appreciated him, yet he doubted anyone would want to be like him. To be one of the elite meant to sacrifice so much for ones own needs and face down the vicious creatures of the night. Very few men and women had the courage let alone bravery to do that.

For his march back to the nearest camp would be a days walk or perhaps even more. With the muddy bloody ground he treed upon and the vast length of the killing fields, there was a need for proper strategy, not just one running in with a pike and hoping to hit a vampire in their tracks. No, there needed to be discipline, militia tactics and on top of that better trained men. For the Sarafan known as the Seahorse was always triumphant when there was a cleverly masked ambush and traps involved alongside stealthy and agile attacks. It was he who bore the creature of the sea that was known for his cunning and witty skills.

[rahab-of-the-sea]

The Rahabim- Dualist class

Similar in style to the Duhmahim, the sword dancers are fast and agile moving using a vast variety of combination attacks to stun and surprise their opponent.

Their movements are lethal, fast and accurate having a good range of parry, offense and defense attacks.

They move faster then the Duhmahim and are immune to water allowing them to breach through areas that most other vampires would find restricting.

They focus on physical melee attacks rather then supernatural abilities and are good at dealing damage to multiple opponents.

Their primary class is a get in and get out type. Giving them time to stun, kill, or heal in solo or team attacks.

Weapons:

Twin dual swords are her primary attack weapons and can be used in a variety of manners whether it be defense or offense.

Attacks consist of:

Sword dance: a lethal and fast attack where the Rahabim spins around using a melee attack with her dual swords. Stuns the opponent for a brief 5 seconds and can do multiple damage to nearby enemies. Great for surprise attacks.

Spinning Kick: An attack that requires perfect timing. Great for combination attacks. The spinning kick is as it sounds, the Rahabim will spin on the spot before delivering a head kick to the enemy twice in a row unlike the Dumahim who only kick once. It can do mild damage to nearby enemies but not as great as the Sword Dance.

Malice Bite: This attack is a large wide bite the Rahabim can deliver. Due to her large mouth she will rip into any nearby enemy. This allows a form of healing as the bite will be fast and deadly allowing the Rahabim to get in and bite her victim and get out faster then the other classes that require time to replenish their health.

Block attacks:

Cross swords: A simple block attack where the Rahabim uses her swords to block punches, kick and even cuffs/bindings.

Lunge backwards: Perfect for evading combination attacks. This is a straight forward jump backwards motion.

Leg Checks: More so used against lower attacks, the leg check is a simple block attack where the leg is held up high. Is effective against punches and some forms of melee attacks.

Ultimate Attack:

Supanova Kick- This is a kick that delivers a harsh stunning attack and will send the opponent flying backwards 5 meters and stunning them for 30 seconds. This attack is only available after successfully performing a perfect combination routine. It will also affect any enemy opponents behind or near the target. The Damage will not be as great as it would be on the focused target, however it will also stun nearby enemies for at least 15 seconds.

[rahab-of-the-sea]

It was a dark day to witness. The swirling sound of water against water never seemed to leave the vampire’s ears or mind as he drew in a long deep breath. The distant memory of a friend, a brother, now cast aside into the acidic pit of death as if he was nothing. And yet Rahab could do...nothing. What was worse was his yell, his agonizing plea as he descended down into the watery pit. That day had been a day Rahab could not look Turel or Dumah in the eye. For when Raziel had been cast into the abyss, Rahab knew that eventually someone would try to take his place. So when the small thin paper parchment arrived on his desk, Rahab could only trail his fingers across his lips and sigh softly knowing what was to come next.

“ All Razielim are to be executed. Any who dare to assist those that flee shall also be rewarded with death. For like their sire, they too must be destroyed. Raziels actions have doomed his own clan. Do not pity them, for they too committed the crime of blasphemy against Kain. But now is the time for Turelim to rise. For I am Secondborn to Kain and next in line. “

Arrogance, stubborn but worst of all prideful. Turel was asking for assistance in destroying the Razielim, Raziels last bloodline. Clawed fingers let go of the parchment and raised to gently rubbed against his scaled brow as Rahab watched the tiny paper gently fly in the air, downwards until it met its cruel fate, fire.

How could he of all others decide to commit such an act? Raziel had done one thing that might have been foolish, but it did not mean that his actions should damn a whole entire clan. To Rahab this didn’t seem tactile, it seemed like someone with an over zealous nature trying to rule in Raziels absence. A fear that Rahab had long had even before Raziel had been cast into the abyss.

For he always saw how Turel try to start a fight, at first it was brotherly and then over time...it seemed like rivalry.

“ Sire? “ A voice came from the distant darkness as Rahab raised his head and peered into the golden eyes of one of his own. Although the fledgling was unaware of the situation, Rahab himself could not stand to think of someone else destroying his own linage. It would be madness.

“ What is it? Speak your mind Fledgling. “ A welcoming tone was in Rahabs voice despite his stoic appearance as he glanced back to the dwindling flame where the paper had once been. Now turned to ash where it will forever burn...Just like the Razielim shall too...and most all, their sire.

If only Rahab had of tried harder, if only Rahab could have taught Raziel how to be immune to water. Was it even possible if Raziel was still alive? Perhaps a thought to dwindle on later

“ You ordered for the gates to be closed...we have secured them, but I must ask are we to prepare for hunters? Is their a siege to take place outside the Abbey? “ Curiosity was evident in the fledglings voice, perhaps he had a similar trait to his sire in that regards, as they seemed so eager to know the truth and yet Rahab would not let them know...not yet at least.

“ No, there is no siege but I fear there is a war to come. One between the clans. For now we shall remain in the Abbey and continue to evolve and enter the state of change. However we are to be prepared for deception, lies and trickery. Be mindful and inform the others of this. For now that is all I shall inform you of, but take my word fledgling. Trust only the Rahabim unless we can all be united under one cause which I deem fit. “ The Vampire overlord spoke with such ease even though his heart did not seem to reflect that outward appearance.

Raziel; handsome and the strongest of them all. Witty, cunning but strong and prideful in both body and soul. Arrogant at times too but even though Rahab had also been cautious of the others, mostly Raziel for he was envious of such looks and leadership skills his elder brother had once had. Always finding that Raziel was the one to seek advice from and share his interests with, especially in regards to their taste in wealth and riches.

Now all of that, much like the paper, would burn and be nothing more then an agonizing memory. There would no longer be someone to be envious of, there would no longer be someone to look up to when times where tough or even someone to talk to. Of all of his Brothers....all of them, it just had to be Raziel. Rahab recalled how the other had once joked about flying, but never did Rahab think his brother would try it.

“ Though if you are able to manipulate your gift, your evolution, then perhaps I can too…always been rather fond of the idea of flight…you, brother could rule the sea’s and I could rule the skies.”  The very words Raziel had spoken himself prior to attempting such a thing. Had Rahab doomed his own elder brother?

In many ways the vampire overlord felt that this was his own fault. After all he had evolved faster then the others due to his environment and need to become immune to the acidic touch of water. Had it been Rahabs fault that Raziel too had thought to do the same? Had Raziel believed that growing wings would allow him to travel better in his own keep, in The Fane ?

Lowering his head, Rahab took in a long deep breath as he heard the fledgling finally leave. War was coming, and with war meant sacrifice. A Trait to which Rahab knew all to well. At least Rahab could do one final act to honor his elder Brother. One that would cost him, but one he was prepared to take. For Rahabim could go anywhere, to places where all his other brothers couldn’t go. If it meant living in the water depths for a million years, then so be it.

Clawed fingers rested on the desk and pulled out a yellow stained parchment paper, in his other clawed hand was a beautiful peacock feathered pen with ink dripping from its end.

“ Dear Brother Zephon. “ Rahab began as he wrote on the parchment paper elegantly with such neat style and perfectly curved letters.

“ You of all of us have the perfect fortified location. To this I ask of you, your assistance. There are tunnels deep in the grounds, I know you know of these well enough considering your own mishaps. I ask of you something grave and dangerous. Perhaps even a little traitorous. But hear me out. Assist me in getting at least a few of Raziels fledglings out of The Fane. They do not deserve to perish like Raziel nor does Turel have the right to make such a call without our vote. For if you do this for me, I shall assist you in any battles or tactile advice you require to see to. I’ll even flood a hoard of humans in your direction, long enough to feast upon for hundreds of year. I’m even willing to defend your own keep against our own kind if it ever came to it. I’ll await your reply in due time, but make haste, we do not have a lot of time to spare. Kind regards, Brother Rahab. “ With a final signature at the end, Rahab paused and took another long deep breath as he re-read his own words.

Without a doubt Zephon would assist, he too was much like Rahab and probably had his own gates heavily fortified with spies out running around gathering information and resources. It was best to be aligned with someone like this, someone with information and use until the right time comes to dismiss such a thing.

Zephon would always hide in his little castle, thinking he is protected from the outside world and all its dangers. All it would take would be for Rahab to threaten to flood the place and Zephon would easily quiver in fear. Yet Rahab knew the other well enough to know that of course Zephon would have to agree without the use of fear, unlike Turel’ methods seem to be. It was either align himself with Rahab or end up as one of Turels pets, something Rahab knew Zephon did not like for there had always been a bitterness between them. Perhaps even Melchiah would assist in such an act and allow Turel and Dumah to focus on one another for a few hundred years while they try to assert who really tossed Raziel into the pit and who deserves to be next in line. However It would only be a matter of time before something would give, so why not start now.

At least their war with humanity can be held at bay for sometime, allowing their pathetic short existence to grow and reproduce food source long enough to sustain the vampire empire.

For this was the act that Rahab would commit, a crime to Turel but perhaps not one in Kains eyes. As much as he feared Turel, Rahabs heart was true to the core in respecting his former Brother Raziel and even his linage.

While in the darkness of the Abbey, where the water pooled in and it rained constantly, there was an ever growing darkness here. Someday it would be Rahabs tomb, and maybe even his own cell. For knowing Turel knew that there would be consequences, but Rahab would take the blame for Turel could never kill him. Or at least Rahab was counting on as he sealed the parchment with his signature sigil and prayed that nothing would go against him.

[kainissoable]

Finally grouped all of last year’s drabbles in something like chronological order.

[kainissoable]

Watery Grave

Raziel's claws scraped against the rough stone floor as he scrabbled desperately to keep from falling. Images of the turbulent Lake of the Dead rose unbidden and terror flooded his mind. The waters below were calm and lifeless, yet still held the promise of death. He screamed as he hit the surface, the water tearing at his flesh, stripping him of it too swiftly for pain to follow. Raziel didn't hear the Elder God's words in his mind or see the world warp around him. He was five centuries in the past, Kain's final damning words echoing in his ears.