Private Tales Bloody Tears

[Alaric Von Stein]

Alaric dismounted from his midnight colored horse, it neighing softly as the cold wind gusted between the cemetery stones. and collided with them. His long hair was caught in it as well but always returned to its perfect state after a few seconds as he examined the area. It had been months of chasing rumors, word of mouth, and small paper trails but he had finally found it. It was the cemetery of the Manfred bloodline, or so he was led to believe until he was proven wrong. A village was nearby and had told him of the location of the crypt and the stories of the once-great family that protected and claimed these lands.

Without much of a sound of all, he strode forward with his eyes scanning from left to right as he examined each stone. The night was young and the only light that was being permitted was from the torches that had been erected along the cobble walkways throughout the cemetery. Alaric didn't need it as he could see perfectly in the dark but it certainly provided an ambiance. As he continued to go further, the cemetery stones grew in elaboration and size as an indication that he was crossing into the occupants who carried more wealth to their name.

In the middle of it all was a small steeple, the craftsmanship of it ornate and skillful as gargoyles were carved onto each corner of it and stood as watchful protectors. There was two massive iron doors that acted as the entrance but were barred shut from the inside it seemed. Alaric stopped in front of the doors and was about to place a hand on them when he heard a rhythmic thud coming from his flank.

With a quick inhale, the scent of blood filled his nose and the sound of a thumping heart filled his ears. Alaric followed the scent until he found a man with a lantern by a grave, shoveling away some of the mounds of dirt and taking care of the grounds. "Is this the grounds of the Manfred family?" The groundskeeper dropped his shovel and jumped at the man's voice as he hadn't heard him approach at all. When he turned, he would find Alaric standing there stoic and with his arms interlocked behind his back. The man glanced around cautiously before answering with a nod, "Been taking care of it for years. What does it have to do with you, mister?"

Alaric smiled at the man with unnatural ease and grace, "Personal reasons." Yes, this was it. "I would suggest you leave tonight. Unsavory things come out at this time." The man slowly nodded as he picked up his shovel and backed up, "Of course, my lord." Without much further prodding, the man turned and hurried his way out of the cemetery to leave Alaric by himself.

 

[Kazimierz var Morvich]

The night had grown long in the hours since he last left his lair. The shadows lengthened fully, and the nocturnal beasts that made this region their home were out and about, preying upon one-another in the constant contest for survival in this cruel, ordered world. He was no different than those beasts, save for a higher level of intelligence, he supposed. At least, in the eyes of the mortals, that’s all he was; an inhuman monster fit for naught but the pyre or the stake. Perhaps that’s all he was, though Kazimierz thought differently. He was the next step in their agonizingly slow evolution; the perfect, undying being. Of course, this gift came with a great price, and the gnawing hunger that plagued him ever-so-often was a grim reminder of one such cost to unlife. Still, ruminating on his condition was better left to the myriad monster hunters who sought his destruction. He had better things to do.

The Manfred dynasty’s graveyard was nothing of note; the typical noble legacy, with lesser members’ graves shielding the more important family members more centrally-located. In the middle of it all was a, in comparison with other noble houses, fairly modest steeple. Its massive wrought-iron doors were sealed to the outside world and little was thought of what might be contained within. Kazimierz had done his research, though, and the fruits of his labors among the mortal world ended here, in the land of the dead. He strode silently through the night, little more than the pale moon above and infrequent torches along the path revealing his presence, such was his lightfootedness. Ahead, he heard a curt discussion between two men, ended with a veiled threat. The gentle heartbeat of one clued him in enough to step into the shadows and remain unseen as he passed, casting little more than a sidelong glance in his direction as the vampire continued along the path. The groundskeeper, it seemed.

A moment later he arrived at the modest mausoleum, as well as the presence of another figure. This one’s heartbeat was nonexistent, and a certain authoritative power that he carried belied any notion of normalcy he might have attempted to display. Kazimierz approached from behind, sauntering up a few paces from him and gazing up at the great iron doors of the building. A gentle breeze blew past them, rustling the trees and ruffling his hair, not that it concerned him greatly.

”Interesting, is it not?” he began calmly, his voice measured and even. It lacked much of an accent, though it did seem to carry with it an air of authority of its own. ”One might think a mausoleum would have its doors barred from the outside, so that others might visit.” He flicked his gaze towards the other man, furrowing his brows slightly. ”After all, the dead do not often rise from their slumber.”

He ran a gloved hand across the door’s surface, tracing along the intricate weave of decorative symbols adorning it. ”Tell me,” he said, stepping back from the door, ”What has brought you to such a place?” The doors remained shut, and the groundskeeper yet lived, so this man was, like Kazimierz, an outsider, lured here by unknown means.

Before he answered, the elder vampire turned his head towards the darkness, sweeping his gaze across the myriad tombs. There was meant to be another here this evening, a younger one. Impetuous, naive; she had recently “accepted” his blood kiss, and the trauma of Turning rendered her an unchained beast, loathed by mortal society. A rogue vampire like that would bring unnecessary attention to the existence of others of their kind, and mortals on the hunt for vampires often interfered where they ought not. He decided that helping temper that unbound rage and teach her of their gift would assuage such concerns, and he wondered if she would accept his invitation to join him in tonight’s endeavor.

 

[Alaric Von Stein]

The human fled from the cemetery and Alaric's eyes followed him until he disappeared into the darkness and his footsteps could no longer be heard. That's when another voice signaled the arrival of another visitor and he slowly turned around to find a man there and staring at the doors. With one sniff, it was clear it wasn't just a man but another nightwalker. The past few weeks, he has meant his kind in droves and he wondered what this meant.

Alaric smirked slightly, "There are always exceptions." The pair being two of them right there. The vampire asked what brought him to the cemetery as he stepped back from the door. As he waited for him to answer, his gaze went to the darkness, and Alaric's followed it and stared there for a few moments. But nothing came out and he wondered if there was supposed to be company besides just the stranger. "Stories, rumors, fairytales, take your pick. As in regards to what is actually inside, I don't have the slightest notion."

That's when Alaric proceeded to the door then and replaced Kazimierz's position at the door. With a gloved hand as well, he placed his hand against the metal with care and lightly dragged his fingers along it and the face of a gargoyle carved into it. His eyes smoothly followed his fingers as he spoke again, "But with your presence, it only adds validity to these local fairytales."

The vampire's fingers stopped in the gargoyle's mouth as his eyes stared into the statues. There is also one piece of information that drew him to the burial ground. The Manfred's had been blood kissed as well.

 

[Kazimierz var Morvich]

Cold blue eyes continued to gaze out into the darkness, waiting for the young girl he had invited to attend. He hoped she might learn from him - and the other ancient vampire, now - how best to conceal her condition without simultaneously neglecting her dark needs. If she would not come tonight, then there would be another time he would find her. His only concern was that she not bring undue attention to their kind; suspicious mortals were unpredictable and dangerous.

Kazimierz drew a thin line with his lips, then panned his gaze back towards the other man.They shared a similar build, though the other vampire looked far younger than Kazimierz did. There were certainly advantages to looking either older or younger, with the primary of such advantages being it was harder to pinpoint a vampire if they all held different appearances, minus the obvious signs. He chose not to give the man his name, as he imagined the other man would withhold the same information. The time for pleasantries would come later, should they find what they were looking for.

He furrowed his brows as the other dark one spoke, studying him through the darkness. He had been lured here by a similar desire, though he knew about as much about what might be within the crypts. Kazimierz’s brows lifted and returned his face to a more aloof expression as he approached the door, moving with an unnatural, graceful fluidity. His eyes traced along its massive body for a moment before resting at the top, observing the ornate engravings.

”Then we are alike in our curiosity,” he mused, taking a step back. He gestured for the man to step aside before focusing his attention on the sealed door. One palm faced upwards towards the pale moon as he muttered, ”Jaz ya'ka,” beneath his breath. Tendrils as black as night snaked from his open palm towards the door, sliding between the narrow gaps and forcing their way inside. After a moment or two of silence, a heavy, dull thud came from within, followed by a series of muffled metallic clicks. Kazimierz lowered his hand and returned to his position at the door, curling his fingers in the frame of his side.

”Let us see what secrets this crypt holds,” he said, pulling the door open. It whined and creaked against its hinges as he swung his door open, and he took a moment to peer inside. For mortals, they would be faced with an impenetrable darkness. For the two nightwalkers, however, this would be a nonissue. A few rows of ornate statues lined the entrance that led to a set of stairs going down into the depths of the mausoleum. It was eerily silent, and the dust around the entrance was largely undisturbed.

Without waiting, he entered the mausoleum, his senses growing more alert. The rumors surrounding this family were not entirely unsubstantiated, and he knew how quiet their kin could be. He hoped this other man knew how to hold his own, should it come down to it.

 

[Alaric Von Stein]

Alaric's eyes remained on the gargoyle but that is when the other vampire motioned for him to step aside. He listened and watched curiously but when he saw what Kaz was about to do, one of his hands went in the air to stop him but it was too late, the tendrils stretched forward and through the cracks in order to unlock a few mechanisms. Alaric just stared at the door silently until the final click happened and it opened a few inches.

The vampire knew their people were very idealistic and he expected such an entrance wasn't one that was going to be approved of. When Kaz stepped through, so did Alaric, his eyes scanning from left to right as his senses drank everything in. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, it opened into an expansive room, alcoves carved into the walls with enough space to fit stone coffins there.

There weren't any torches or sources of light but because of their nature, it wasn't necessary at all and appeared as if it was in the middle of the day with light being able to flood in from imaginary windows. There were different sets of doors in the walls and was a hint to tell them that this mausoleum was much more expansive then they thought.

Alaric glanced at the door, at Kaz, then back to one of the nearest coffins. "It seems the Manfreds aren't disturbed yet." But he doubted this was the true family they stood next to. A few seconds later, the two vampires would be able to hear multiple pairs of feet coming straight towards them. It was coming from the direction that the keeper ran off and a smile touched Alaric's lips, "Ah, right on time for us."