Private Tales Figments and Portents

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Every time Ander thought he had found an advantage to be pressed, Samara swept him off his feet, and it was no different this time, as she stopped his hands short of reaching more dangerous territory further upwards along her legs. He looked upon his lovely huntress with bewilderment, though only for a moment, quickly catching onto her demands.

Samara was indeed right... There was another boot left, and Ander would spare no effort to see her stripped of all that unnecessary clothing again, only following on her lead. With a devilish smile, the lustful warrior sought to reach for her other leg, his hands firstly caressing it with little to no rush, as Ander looked up to glance upon her reaction. At a sign of her delight, the elven warrior would then begin to remove the laces of her remaining boot, removing it and following up with a few moist kisses upon her skin, feeling her warmth.

If there was any indication to be had about her amusement with that gesture, Samara now beckoned him to stand from her feet, his fingers gently lifting him by his jaw as he rose along her length, stopping at her waist while his hands desperately clung to her.

She wanted those sensations as well, she had to. By her smile and her words, her curiosity as she teased him about his words from earlier... Ander was almost sure she wanted that as much as he did. "Samara..." He breathed, as Samara challenged him. If she so wanted to know what else was in store for her, Ander already knew that it wasn't wise to keep a lady waiting, even though wise would be the last word on his mind to describe himself that night. Without warning, he began to kiss her toned belly, his hands moving her thighs and waist about with careless intention as his kisses turned frantically, reaching downwards along her stomach and towards more... intimate territory.

Her clothes, and especially her pants, were a troublesome obstacle, one that Ander was of a mind to quickly get out of his path, not caring for any objections. With each passing moment, with each touch, each hungry kiss, Ander only grew more experienced and bold, a quick learner. Of course, there was still so much he needed to learn, but he knew that Samara would be a perfect teacher... and partner.

"This..." He spoke between kisses upon her more intimate areas, his face already red hot with passion, his blue eyes burning with love for her. "...this is all for your pleasure, my Huntress."

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Slowly Samara's breathing grew heavier as the Elf kissed her belly and began to explore her waist freely. White hot eyes stared down at him; the man held their rapt attention. There was a growing urge to seize Ander's head and demand his attention at the Vampire's command; yet Samara managed to restrain herself. It wouldn't do to have this over so quickly. It would help her Elven Lover understand what it meant to worship a goddess if he got whatever he wanted just as fast as he -- they -- wanted it.

Her fingers took hold of Ander's hair to pull his head back as he dismissed her lower garments on his own initiative. "Your brash behavior is forgiven this time, my Love, but you should wait until I command you to move forward." A fang-filled grin followed the statement. It was necessary to provide immediate correction to aberrant behavior, but Samara was far from angry. "Now," she panted heavily, "proceed." Her fingers relaxed to allow him free movement once more.

And the Elf moved swiftly to their pleasure. His words were well chosen too. For her pleasure. So dutiful. So loving. They were madly obsessed with one another. Any third party would no doubt balk at what they would have seen. Romance? Deep, healthy emotional bonds? They could build these things in time. On a foundation of unrestrained carnal pleasure. Why proceed slowly when they could soar through the skies together?

A gentle hand lay against the back of Ander's head to help 'guide' him to all the right spots. "Yes. Yes. Yes, Ander'ashan. Your devotion is true. Now," Samara bit her lower lip for a moment, "show me the depth of your love."

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Ander underwent many years of training just to grasp the concept of worship. Not that he didn't believe in his Elven gods, such a blasphemy could never be forsworn, but in the beginning, as brash and impetuous as he had always been, the young swordsman found himself quickly bored and at a loss of patience to some of his duties regarding the worship of the Ancestors.

The newest recruits of the Avhalosian Order of Guardians had to travel around the forest of Aendreasas for days, accompanied by another recruit, and carrying only a short sword and a canteen of water. In complete solace, they had to learn the pathways of the vast forests and find one of several places of worship hidden amongst the trees. There, they would spend weeks attuning their powers to their chosen deity, or be deemed unworthy of such gifts.

Ander'ashan had almost failed that task. But in the face of peril, he had learned the true meaning of worship, only such lessons were now being tore apart by what he had before him - Samara, completely at his mercy, exposed to his touch and to the wonders provided by his lips and tongue. His body was almost moving on its own, controlled only by passion and lust, as the man was too inexperienced to know what he was even doing.

Though, by the moans let out by the Dark Elf, the warrior imagined he was treading on the right path, and that brought quite the smuggish smile to his face, feeling Samara's fingers caress and pull at his hair, guiding his movement as he took pleasure in kissing the woman in parts he had never dreamed before, feeling her wriggling under his touch as she begged... no, commanded him to show her the depth of his love.

If she so desired for him to follow her commands, Samara would find Ander to be quite the obedient soldier, determined to give her the pleasure she desperately craved for.

With one swift move, Ander sought to surprise her and carefully lay the Dark Elf at the bedroll, without breaking the passionate contact of his hungry and lustful kisses, before he slowly crawled on top of her, one hand on each side of her head as Ander gazed upon her face, his own blue eyes voraciously searching for hers.

His calloused fingers gently traced the lines of her face while the elf fought to control himself, to not devour her lips at that very same instant. Breathing deeply, Ander now opened a confident smile, already amusing himself at the words flying around his mind. "What is your command then, my love?"

She had only to say the words, and Ander would be prepared to join their bodies in a melting embrace again, but deep down... He knew Samara craved for control again, and he was ready to do her every bidding.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

The Vampire gave a soft cry as Ander spun them around to lay her back on the ground. A laugh followed suit until the sinfully innocent Elf loomed above her. "You have much to learn, my Love Slave," Samara said in amusement as her hands slid up Ander's arms to his shoulders. The Elf's inexperience was adorable; that he jumped straight to being primed to sate his carnal desire rather than other, creative acts in their previous positions.

No matter. Samara couldn't deny their playful romp would lead here inevitably. It was what Dshara wanted. What they needed.

Her right foot lifted to hook about the Elf's back as she gaze up at him with a fang-filled grin. "Make us a baby," the stark white woman beneath him replied.

Samara was Dshara's Priestess whose body had been molded, shaped, and designed by the goddess herself for her to possess. Seeing how the Dark One had been denied claiming the physical vessel that let her cover the world in ruin from endless experimentation with countless monstrous creatures, it fell to her Priestess to manifest her Will in the world. That Will would be to be fruitful and multiply such monsters, and Ander would be the one to enable it. As he'd enabled Samara embracing Dshara this evening.

The Elf's innocence, ignorance, and lustful obsession might keep him from understanding the true intent behind Samara's outrageous commandment. A fact subconsciously Samara was aware of and sought to exploit. Even though the man had thrown himself into their dark trist with complete abandon so far. Now wasn't the time to tell him to stop while she waxed on for an hour about the larger picture. It wasn't important. They could discuss the details later. At that moment none of that mattered -- he wanted her, and she wanted him. Simple.

Would it work as simply, however? Neither Samara nor Dshara could say. They were both making it up as they went as neither had foreseen Ander'ashan's shameless temptation of his Dark Elven companion.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Ander couldn't take his eyes off her.

Samara was inebriating, mesmerizing... She held his affection and his attention to measures too great to be counted, and as she lay beneath him, comfortably stretched between his long and strong arms, the elf could do nothing but admire her. He even felt powerful, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel himself belittled or ashamed, no... She looked at him differently, Samara could truly feel his strength.

And that was why, even in the apex of strong sensations that wrapped around them, even as Samara strangely made mention of a baby, Ander could not refuse her, even if his mind had already been intoxicated with passion. His thumb gently tugged at her lower lip, slightly revealing her fangs as the light glimmed against them, with Ander now smiling. "I'm yours to teach, my lady." He responded to her earlier words as they lay together in that bedroll, still recalling her delicious laugh when she uttered that.

Ancestors, she had truly dominated him.

Only once had Ander been broken as a warrior, defeated completely and left to die in the shadows of Avhalos' destruction, but this time... It was a different defeat, one that he had welcomed with open arms. He could not resist her smiles, her laughs, the way Samara looked at him, yearned for him... He wasn't a strong enough warrior to resist that exquisite beauty, and nor did he desire to resist.

When she hooked her leg behind his back, the elven warrior took it as the cue to finally melt in her tight embrace, feeling the waves of pleasure rocking his body as they joined their bodies once again. With a shuddering groan, he rested his face between the curve of neck, biting her gently as his body seemed to pick up a pace of its own, being governed only by the pleasure that that intimacy brought to him.

He cared for nothing else when he was with her. His heart and soul wanted only to be caressed by Samara's touch, in the way only she could ever do. Even with so little time, even if they were barely strangers who had met in that very same night, she had healed wounds that had festered for a long time. Ander could be himself again when he was with her.

"Samara..." He whispered countless times, his rough voice breaking down into a whimper, his lips more and more anxious to taste her. The Guardian wished they could stay there forever, never far from each other's touch.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

After calling out Ander's name in the throes of passion, the Vampire blessed their union at its height with her goddess' name. Her nails had clawed at the man's back as the third conjuration of darkness personified by Ander had been their most passionate.

Now with one in another's arms Samara pressed her fangs against the slope of the Elf's neck. Slowly she worked her way up to his ear before she worked it between her teeth gently. A soft coo of a sigh followed as she slid back against him to gaze into Ander's eyes.

"If we enjoy one another any more, you might die of dehydration," Samara remarked playfully. One way or the other. Fortunately the living dead had collapsed where they'd stood long ago. Even the blessing of a goddess still carried with it a physical toll. In Samara's case it might parch her soul, and the sinful Elf had already given everything he could spare earlier.

"Ander'ashan," she softly breathed, "do you truly love me? It's not just the darkness driving you mad with lust is it?" The tip of a sharp nail slowly traced a pattern on the Elf's chest. "I could teach you so much... as Dshara taught me... but I couldn't stand it if it was all a lie. I'd wipe out an entire city in a rage if..." Samara's white rings lifted back to Ander's face hoping he would make continuing the thought unnecessary. He wouldn't leave her, would he? He'd said as much. Had he meant it? This wasn't some sort of spell forcing him to say these things was it? With magic -- aside from darkness -- out of her reach, Samara couldn't be certain. She believed it was real, but was it, truly?

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Having reached the summit of all their passion and lust for the third time that night, Ander felt nothing but bliss wrapping his heart now, and a great deal of exhaustion. Samara had a vigor that even the seasoned warrior had trouble matching, but it was a battle well worth fighting. Not fought with swords, but with their hearts and bodies, melting together in a exhilarating feeling that the Guardian couldn't quite get enough of.

'Delicious' had been the first word to come up on his mind, having whispered Samara's name many times over as he felt the dark elf clawing at his back, echoing his name with passion. He had loved to see her so unhinged and taken with that shuddering sensation that came with their heated embraces throughout that night.

He loved to have her in his arms, and he would do anything to remain close to her touch.

Ander moaned lowly as Samara started to trace the slope of his neck with her fangs, already feeling his heart crave for more of her touch, to kiss her lips once again and not let her taste fade from memory. He laughed softly at her words, a most genuine smile as he looked to her, completely marvelled at her sight. "I'd fight Fhalon'Dan, the Aendreasian God of Death himself in order to have you in my arms once more, Samara."

Though death by dehydration did seem... bad. It could barely be considered a warrior's death, and as a Aendreasian knight, Ander could never settle for anything less than a honorable demise.

He was taken from such morbid thoughts by her words, his ears being delighted to hear her speaking his full name, as she liked to do, though he was left a bit stunned at her question. Did she not believe him? Could she not hear and feel how his heart ached for her, desperate to be loved? Without disturbing her as she traced a path over his chest with the tip of her nail, Ander slowly reached for her face, his fingers caressing her pale skin with great care, almost as if he was worried she would break.

In truth, he was terrified of something else. That she would think his heart didn't belong solely to her now, after she had filled its void with the purest of love.

"I love you, Samara, with all my heart. Every inch of my body and soul... it aches for you. My heart is yours, and yours only." His light blue eyes sparkled with emotion, and the elf opened a shy smile, trying to overcome his awkwardness at speaking such honest words. Samara deserved his honesty, and much more. "None of this is a lie, and there is no darkness or lust driving me, only my love for you. You've saved me from a path of loneliness and grief, and I want nothing else but to be with you."

His head started to lean closer to hers, as Ander now sought to press their foreheads together, before fulfilling his earlier wish, bringing his lips to her in a passionate kiss. They were both bare of their clothes, not an ounce of shame shared between them, and nothing but the truth being spoken in that moment.

And as such, honest curiosity brought to Ander's mind a question of his own. "Who is this goddess you speak of?"

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara tipped her chin up at Ander's bidding to stare up at her Elven lover's bright eyes. Dew then formed at the corners of the Vampire's eyes as his words touched her heart. It was everything she felt for Dshara; a love so pure and dear that Ander now bestowed upon Samara as well. Just hearing the words was enough to banish the fear of them having thrown themselves into a morally deprave abandon under the cover of night.

Could it be a hex or spell? Could it be a lie by an expert con-artist? Anything was possible, but Samara no longer had room in her heart for anything. The handsome and strong Elven man she was pressed up against had occupied everything her goddess had not.

The incorrigible man then lifted his head to lock their lips together, and Samara just melted into his arms once more. It had been a long and arduous night with barely any genuine struggle for survival; and despite all of that, she felt just so comfortable laying there in Ander's embrace. Spent, but comfortable.

Until Ander asked a question part of her had been yearning for all night. Samara's eyes shone in the darkness as a broad smile spread across her face. "Dshara is a magnificent and terrible, radiant yet eclipsing, vile but loving dark goddess of Creation." The pale woman slid up along Ander's body so their eyes were level as she spoke in a hushed reverence. "Everyone speaks of Astra," the name a curse on the Vampire's tongue, "but few know of the majesty and splendor of Dshara's Art. There wouldn't be Vampires, Weres, Orcs, Drow, Goblins, or so many other creatures in this world if it hadn't been for Her limitless creativity. She made many species, and few of them survived, but those that did have flourished."

With a soft hiss, Samara traced Ander's lips with the tip of her finger. "When I first met Her, I did not recognize Her. I did not appreciate just how breathtaking She was. Until I met you, Ander'ashan, I was foolishly denying myself the full blessing She imparted through Her dark embrace. Dshara brought us together." Desires and darkness had wound themselves about Samara's soul and colorfully reimagined the past in a fashion that made sense with the dark love that'd taken root.

"Perhaps, someday," Samara purred quietly, "I will take you to meet Her. Until then... I don't think Dshara will mind if I keep you all to myself. After all, we can honor the goddess using our bodies as her brush and canvas."

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Ander paid her the utmost attention, as Samara happily started to explain her connection to this Dshara, her goddess. Just from the way she spoke of his great and powerful being, the Guardian could tell that the Dark Elf had a great deal of respect and admiration for her, just as he once had for his own gods. His failure had been of his own doing, and Ander held no grudge or any thought of abandonment against the Ancestors, but sometimes, in the dead of night... He would ask for enlightenment on his path - and receive only silence.

To see Samara so filled with joy as she spoke of Dshara, it filled him with happiness, unselfish and genuine. She had a path, she had the hands of a superior being guiding her along the way, not allowing her to falter. All things that Ander once had, and threw away.

He suppressed a soft moan as Samara slid along his bare body, feeling the warmth of her skin as his mind already played to him images of their passionate embrace just minutes ago, making his heart crave for more, though Ander was now solely focused on his lover's story. "This Dshara... She was responsible for the creation of all these beings?" His question was borne out of admiration, his mind trying to understand just how grandiose the powers of such a goddess could be, that she could've created entire species, even if not all of them survived.

The elven warrior's lips started to form a smile as he felt her finger tracing them gently, finding great delight in her words, in her beliefs that her goddess had brought them together. Ander himself was of the same mind - the gods had to have put Samara on his path for a reason. He was sure that she was his salvation and his redemption.

His fingers started to caress her pale face again, before they reached over to play with a few loose strands of Samara's hair, taking comfort in its softness. His blue eyes, bright with curiosity and interest on her tale just moments ago, now dimmed, as Ander swayed from the Dark Elf's eyes to her lips, avoiding to look her in the eyes as the memories of his past life started to usher back in. "When I was a child, my mother spoke of a prophecy." He breathed, a small smile returning to his lips as Ander recalled his parents and his memories as a kid. "She spoke of how the Merëllien sons were chosen as Elthar'nan's warriors. She spoke of how Elthar'nan, God of Battle, imbued us with great strength and wisdom, to rival any sort of enemy we could ever face, but also to be merciful and treat even our greatest nemesis with respect."

Elthar'nan, the Aendreasian Elven God of Battle and Might. His chosen deity and protector in all of his battles.

"But I failed them all. My mother, the gods, our Elven gods..." His voice carried heavy sadness, but now Ander found the strength to look towards her eyes again, almost resolute. "But if am I worthy to meet your goddess, then I will go with you, Samara."

If they could first retrieve the dangerous relic and escape with their lives, of coure.

Ander smiled hopeful, admiring the beauty of the woman laid in his arms and finding comfort in the words she had said, wishfully thinking that there would be a time, a more appropiate time, to meet this goddess of great importance to her. And also, because her suggestion of allowing their bodies to be used as canvas sounded like a remarkable idea on his mind.

"My love... My body is yours already. I am but a lone and disgraced warrior, unfit to gaze upon such a powerful goddess and her wonderful priestess." His words came out as a simple joke, but there was also a grain of truth behind them, and a spark of hope that he could prove himself worthy, both to Samara and to the Ancestors again.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Every bit of Dshara's mark on Samara's soul had been tempted and encouraged by the Elven man beneath the Dark Elf at that moment. His complete acceptance and glad offering had drawn out the desires and thoughts kept barely contained within from a soulwashing interrupted at the last moment, but not undone.

Her dearest friend among the Seraphs had managed to coax the Dark Elf back from the brink. Restored what some would call sanity or restraint. Enough they sought to have her freed of the cell in which they kept Samara out of fear of what the monster had done to her. Yet, the heads of the Seraphs were not so easily convinced. They would have kept her chained as Dshara had, but for the rest of her life without the pleasures and horrors the goddess had lavished upon Samara. A dreary, dull, lifeless existence... narrowly avoided by an assassin that had Samara flee into the night.

Flee down a dark, winding road until her fangs sank into Ander's flesh at his bidding. There'd been a deep part of Samara that had wanted to fall. It wanted to be consumed by darkness. The man's relentless, forward mannerisms and coaxing had made it so easy to stop resisting so much. The Elf was her Dark Savior that would have Samara become Dshara's Priestess, and that thought filled her with an abundant joy not felt since the dungeon so long ago.

"She created so many of what would become the so-called 'monsters' of today," the Vampire acknowledged. There may have been a little overstatement and embellishment, but who had time to attribute which species to the entity responsible? Dshara had been a major force in populating the world with unspeakable terrors and really that was all that mattered. "That was so terribly long ago... most of what we see today have changed so much from those forms; and while so many more were lost, those suited to survive remain."

As her lover caressed her skin and hair, he began to speak of his past and his failure. Yet despite his insistence that he had failed, Samara saw no failing in the man. "You are worthy, Ander'asahan," Samara breathed as her hands slid up along his face. "Dshara is with me, always. She's would like nothing more than to show her gratitude for what you've done." How he kept the Dark Elven vampire drunk with ecstasy and abandon. "But not yet." The pale woman giggled as she gazed into Ander's eyes. "You're mine. I'm hers, but you are mine. I don't think I should share; do you?"

The corruption buried within might have surfaced once more, but Samara's hadn't been washed away. To return to Dshara's prison would spell certain doom for Samara's soul if captured by the insatiable goddess. Samara didn't feel like being erased in favor of Dshara walking the world, so in the twisted confines of her soul she wouldn't choose to share Ander with the dark entity. They would roam the world together. Honor the goddess, of course, but not necessarily skewer themselves upon Her altar.

"You are nothing but the greatest treasure in all the world, Ander'ashan. Handsome, relentless, and pure." Samara lightly kissed his lips before she lifted her head to smile down at him once more. "Together we'll forge a new destiny. Just the two of us. We'll build a new home, enjoy all that life has to offer, give tribute to Dshara... but most of all, we'll be together. Forever." Because sooner or later, Samara was going to turn the Elf before her now. Not too quickly though. She wanted to sample his unchanged Elven blood a while longer. Give them time to learn more about each other before the Eternal Bonds were forged; even if Samara already counted them as having linked their souls together.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Duty must always come before happiness or glory.

Those were the words spoken by the first Guardians, carried along the ages as their numbers dwelled and Aendreasas grew into a prosperous kingdom in the Falwood, protected by those sworn soldiers that sought nothing but to carry out their duties, relinquishing any sort of reward or praise. They were protectors, knights of the highest order.

But Ander thought differently. Even if his intentions were good and sincere, he wanted to etch his name in the Walls of Knowledge, along with all the names of past Aendreasian heroes, long since dead after the wars with the humans and every other conflict that followed. Ander'ashan was a warrior to heart, but instead of duty, he found himself yearning for glory and some sort of happiness, but in deciding to fight alone, he found nothing but sadness and guilt.

Even if Samara believed him to be worthy, even if she professed such words in the hope that Ander would believe them, the memories would never fade. The blood, the darkness, the screams... The sting of pain as the stranger's blade punctured the side of his stomach, leaving him for dead along the ruins of the Temple, only to wake up days later, barely alive. He blamed no one else but himself, and there was not a soul still alive for him to blame anyway.

The Guardian had barely paid attention to the Dark Elf's explanation about the monsters created by Dshara, hearing only a few words here and there, while his mind wandered throughout the ruined Aendreasas, through the cursed woods, all the way to the fallen gates of the great city of Avhalos, where the destruction reached its summit. But upon hearing her precious laugh, Ander finally returned to himself, watching with joy as Samara spoke of how he belonged to her.

And she was most definitely right.

He smiled softly, shaking his head in denial as his thumb caressed her pale and yet wonderful skin. She was so beautiful, so unique. "I don't think I would want to share you as well, my love... not even with a goddess." The elf sounded confident, and even was his words sounded more like a jest, they were very much sincere. Ander knew nothing about Dshara, only that she meant a great deal to Samara, but even a goddess could not hope to contain the love that burned inside him, its hot embers being reserved only for the Dark Elf that laid on top of him.

Ander felt shivers running across his entire body, every inch of his muscles reacting to that woman as she spoke the kindest words that he had heard, her terribly short kiss enough to drive him mad as the warrior craved for more. A longer kiss, a longer touch... Eternity. If she had truly meant those words, about spending forever beside him, then Ander could never be able to refuse her, not after Samara had helped him escape from a path of loneliness and self torture, not after she had teached him about so many different feelings, sensations that he couldn't even grasp.

"Forever?" He questioned, though he wanted nothing more but to spend the rest of his live by her side as well. Only, a warrior's life would always be bound to end sooner than expected, and even if he could no longer call himself a true warrior, Ander could never know what the Gods had in store for him. For all his guesses, only a honorable demise would be waiting for him in the end.

But they put him on that path, they showed him to Samara... She was part of their plans, no doubt. And he would never go against the Ancestors and their plans.

"You would have me forever, Samara?" His eyes sparkled with innocent hope, as he tried to understand how could have he conquered the love of someone like her. Someone so passionate, devoted, beautiful and strong.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara smiled despite the sacrilege, or perhaps because of it. Dshara wasn't like some demanding deities that needed you to pay them lip service. Why else would She have suffered Samara deriding and talking back all this time? No, She was patient. Much like a spider in their web waiting for the prey to accept their fate first. Besides, the dark goddess' love wasn't like most others either. Jealousy? Only if you professed love to another deity perhaps. Otherwise so long as you offered yourself to Her Will why would Dshara care who you stole into your bed?

A soft sigh escaped her lips as the Vampire gazed into Ander's eyes. She felt every shiver that coursed through the Elf's body beneath her. They great need within him for his First Love to legitimize, absolve, and gratify overwhelmed the Elven man almost as much as his actions had pushed Samara over the edge this night.

"You handsome, sinful Elf," Samara quietly laughed, "I will have you forever. You are mine. I'll kill anyone or anything that gets between us. I'll set cities on fire, drive beasts from their forests, and boil the oceans before I give you up."

Her lips parted to reveal the fangs that had greedily plunged into his flesh earlier. "I've... never embraced anyone before, Ander'ashan." Samara paused to bite down on her lower lip with her fangs. "I feel this deep urge within me to keep you at my side. Dshara gave me this blessing, and must have given me the ability to give it to others. To bring more to her bosom." An eternal lover would certainly make sure Her Will was made manifest in time; and Samara couldn't imagine her life without Ander any longer. The overwhelming lust had inspired an obsession she felt would snap her in two if he were lost. Age, ailment, or blade would not be allowed to take him from her so easily. Yes, they would defy the Astra's vile desire that life end at her choosing. They would kill the hunters -- like herself had once been -- that would come for them. Perhaps turn them into useful creatures in turn. It would be glorious.

"Does this frighten you? Your thoughts strayed earlier. Is it the past that haunts you, Ander'ashan?" Samara caressed his cheek affectionately. "Think nothing of it. We will have a new life together. One where we will grow stronger and overcome every obstacle before us. Wherever one of us is weak, the other will uplift them and we will embody the strength of Ages." The speed at which Dshara's influence colored Samara's thoughts had been swift. Whereas before they met the Dark Elf would have been aghast at the thought, now she only wanted to ensure a life for the two of them. Why should they be forced to wander the world because of the complaints of others?

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

To hear Samara professing words of possession made the innocent and lonely elf feel as if he finally found some place to belong again - in her arms. For many weeks, months even, he had wandered far and wide, discovering both cities and small towns alike, coming upon new cultures and learning about what made that world so unique and interesting, so different from the secluded woods of Aendreasas.

Even looking at her now, the warrior stared at Samara as if she was the most precious thing he had ever come across, and that wouldn't be a false statement. The way she looked back at him burned at his very soul, and soon Ander felt the need to touch her again, to feel the softness of her pale skin as he traced her cheek and jawline with the back of his fingers, feeling his entire body crave for her.

His lips formed into a smile, growing from ear to ear as she spoke, with Ander doing his best to contain his own laughter at her calling him a 'handsome, sinful elf'. And she was right, the fallen Guardian, without any sort of honor and prestige left, belonged only to her. He had found a new purpose, one that he could follow without any regrets or wishes to look back.

"Samara..." He breathed, bringing their faces a bit closer as he gazed deeply into her eyes. "You would do all of that... for me? I am nothing but a warrior without a purpose, full of failures and shame. I've done nothing to deserve this... to deserve you."

His eyes widened in surprise as she next spoke, confiding to him the truth about her experience, that she had never embraced anyone else before. "I... I was your first?" He questioned, his words low and his face turning bright red as he looked away from her briefly, timid. "I hope I haven't disappointed you. I..." Ander tried to find the right words, his heart beating nervously before he could look at Samara again. He needed to tell her. "I've never embraced anyone else before as well. As a Guardian, we had to renounce all hopes for love and carnal desires, every unimportant dream we had, to focus solely on protecting the people and our lore. It was a great honor, but also a great burden, and there could be no distractions or obstacles in the way of our duties."

As Samara caressed his face, the elf closed his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath as he took her hand and pressed it gently, feeling a sense of calmness taking hold of him, as opposed to the rush of nervousness from moments before. He listened carefully to her words as she sought to bring him comfort, feeling his confidence and harmony returning with each word spoken by the Dark Elf, his beautiful lover.

"My past haunts me every night, Samara." He said, finally opening his eyes to look at her again. "I've lived a very different for many years, and I was lost when that was taken from me. But being with you..." He paused, his thumb caressing her cheek softly. "It gives me a new purpose, a new dream. The Gods have blessed me with you, and I will be by your side, for as long as you'll have me." Ander had seen an opportunity that he could not squander, and it was all thanks to Samara. He was lost, confused and ashamed before, but the Dark Elf was ripping those things from him, and the warrior was better off for it.

He needed her, all of her.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

"Without purpose?" The Vampire purred. "Your purpose is to be with me and protect me, Ander'ashan." With Dshara's help they would help the Elf serve them, and then serve the world; soon all the people would know the love of their dark goddess. After all, wasn't it good to be loved?

Then Ander said something curious. Was her first? Disappointment? One of the Vampire's hands lifted to veil her lips from sight as Ander confessed his first. Oh, dear, the poor delightful Elf had been denied carnal pleasure? Well, he'd certainly done away with all of those inhibitions all at once hadn't he? "No, my Love," her fingers fell from her lips to lay gently upon Ander's, "not that embrace. Though," a deep moan rose behind sealed lips, "I certainly enjoyed your complete abandon in that. Believe me, Ander'ashan, I've only begun to show you the height of pleasure there."

She then withdrew her hand and listened to his heartfelt confession. It pleased her to hear him accept he had a new path just as he'd coaxed out Dshara's influence. Her fingers lay atop his lips once more as the white fiery rings of her eyes never wavered from Ander. "No, my Love, not 'the gods.' Dshara, the dark goddess and Mother of Monsters. She and she alone is worthy of your praise." The Dark One might not be a jealous goddess when it came to romance, but Samara was a jealous Priestess. Only one deity had taken her to their bosom and given her so many blessing. The rest had been content to watch idly on the sidelines with the living their amusement. They deserved no praise.

"Now," a smile slid back onto her lips for a moment, "about embracing... You see, Ander'ashan," Samara parted her lips to reveal the fangs as she leaned down closer to his face, "I am a kind of Vampire. The first of my kind. My blood. I have never granted the blessings of eternity on another living soul. It is that embrace that you will be my first. We will be bound together for all time where not even the gods can separate us." Where some would call it a curse of vampirism, Samara now found it a blessing. One to be given to the worthy. Who better to start with than the one that helped her cast off the Old Ways of peace and sanctity of all life? "You and I will live forever and build an Empire in tribute to our goddess. We will spread Her Touch to all the lands, and once again the world will know beauty in all its forms."

"You want this too, don't you, Ander'ashan? Be by my side, crushing those that do not yet knew Her love as they come against us, helping me to find those worthy to join us as we build a world full of love and beauty?" Naturally those words did not mean what worshipers of the Cosmic Pantheon believed. An endless, diverse array of monsters set loose upon the world wrecking havoc and forcing change... how the world had been in The Beginning. Before the deities had been sealed away in the cosmos after the Noxomarchy. A new reign of 'Corruption!' People were too complacent now. Too comfortable. They were beginning to stagnate. They would help them remember their old strength and build even greater tributes of glory.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

The elf looked shellshocked for a moment, but a smile of contempt started to form on Ander's lips, as his mind wrapped around the purpose that Samara had mentioned. To be a Guardian again... only this time, he would guard the person he loved the most, the person who his heart belonged to. That was a noble purpose as any, one that Ander could truly pledge his sword to.

The Dark Elf always knew how to get Ander agitated, his face burning red again as he tried to look away from her in embarassment, but failing in the attempt as Samara touched his lips with her fingers as she explained the meaning of her earlier words, in a way that the warrior finally understood. And even while embarassed, Ander could not hide his little mischevous smile as she spoke of how much pleasure she still had to show him, with heights which he could never had imagine.

It took every bit of strength within to not jump at the pale elf and take her in a most delicious embrace again, with Ander biting his lower lip at the thought. "Then I look forward to reaching such heights with you, my love." He spoke charmingly, a short moan following his words as he felt her sweet touch upon the skin of his face, unable to look away from her anymore. If more nights like that, with even great pleasure, awaited for them, then Ander would be forced to lay aside his sword and live only by her side, in a bed more preferrably.

Ander was surprised at her correction of his mention of the gods, confused as to how she would've preferred to no longer pay tribute to the Ancestors for their blessings. Before, when he did not know about Dshara and the powerful being's influence on Samara's life, he thought that they merely worshipped different sections of gods, as the elves of Aendreasas paid tribute to their own gods, different to the rest of the elven kind. But now... She looked every bit a priestess, even trying to convert him. He stood silent though, not wanting to engage with her on a religious debate, but Ander still remained curious as to how she could've forsaken all of her gods in favor of this Dshara.

A question for another time, perhaps.

She reached in closer, and once again the Guardian felt the need to seize her, though she now revealed her fangs once again, explaining to him about her own strain of Vampirism, a topic which was still fairly unknown to him, as Ander had assumed all vampires were the same. She spoke about embracing him in that way, about her wish to pass her own blessing to him, to which Ander remained silent, gazing into her eyes as he thought about this 'gift'.

His fingers reached for her face once again, caressing her cheek slowly. He would be her first, the first to be turned and to receive the same blessings bestowed to her. Though filled with doubts about the nature of such a blessing, of being turned into a Vampire, like her. But still, even with doubts, there was yet another notion inside his mind - to be loved eternally by her. He had lost his home, his family, his life had already been renounced the day he became a Guardian, and it had been cursed the day he failed to protect the things he held dear. There was nothing left for Ander, except Samara.

"I want nothing more other than to be by your side, Samara." He did not hesitate on his answer, determination clear on his eye as he fought against his better senses, against the vain hope that his past could yet be salvaged, and that he should never accept such a curse.

But coming from that woman, so driven and beautiful, could it really be called a curse? He was no longer sure of anything in his life, save for his wish to remain at her side, and the concept of an eternity with her greatly tempted him. If he was wrong, then... What more could he lose?

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara heard what he said, and if it had been before they met the Dark Elf would have even noted the specificity of his response. Now, though, she didn't care. By accepting even the smallest part of the growing dark plot in her mind, Ander had accepted all of it. The goddess' corruption of her thoughts slowly bleached the gray from the world to leave a certainty and clarity never before felt.

Which was why there hadn't even been a flicker of doubt or concern over Ander's worship of other deities. Earlier there'd been only a silent stare of contemplation without agreement that only Dshara was worthy of praise, but that didn't trouble Samara in the slightest. Old habits were hard to break. Samara knew that best as Dshara had worked so hard to convince her in their time together. Ander wasn't resisting like she had so there was no need for extreme measures. In time, he would understand. He would offer himself up to the dark goddess willingly. What other afterlife could he possibly desire?

"Mmm," the Vampire hummed as she gazed down upon him. "Does that mean you're going to try and hold me here, Ander'ashan, once more? I don't eat or drink anything except blood. You on the other hand," her right hand slid over his bare chest, "need both before we confront our enemy in the woods ahead. I think you might even pass out from exhaustion if I take you again." Then there was the matter of daybreak coming not long from then. It would not be ideal if they found the enemy mid-day when the risk of being incapacitated was greatest to his vampiric lover.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Even with peak physical condition, fruit of his many years of ruthless training, Ander still had limitations as any other living being. Except for Samara and others of her kind, it seemed. He was yet recovering from their last round of pleasure, but as her hand tentatively slid over his bare chest, it was impossible for Ander not to groan and bit his lower lip at the prospect of taking that woman again, to explore some of those unknown heights of pleasure she spoke of.

"I have endured trials much worse than this, my love." He frowned momentarily, before opening a short smile as the warrior tried to brush off his earlier tiredness, trying to show himself able to embark on another journey of ecstasy and passion with Samara, though he had never been much of a liar. "But... I fear you may be right." He agreed reluctantly, realizing that he could indeed fall into of a pit of exhaustion if they were to indulge their wishes once again.

There was still an enemy to be faced, hiding deep in those woods, and no enemy could be taken lightly. Ander had made that mistake before, he would not dare to repeat. But perhaps... A small showing of affection?

Slowly, he rose beneath her touch, his arms slowly wrapping around her and offering her no quarter as Ander captured her lips in a slow kiss, his left hand boldly exploring the lower end of her waist and thighs as his right gently cupped the side of her face. It was barely comparable to the wild yearning from earlier, but he would settle for a kiss and the promise of many other nights such as that, after he regained his strength.

Breaking the kiss, Ander could be seen with an ounce of sadness on his eyes, already missing the peace and comfort that night brought to them in that tent, where their feelings for each other were only reaffirmed and strengthened.

They were bound, in heart and soul, and suddenly there was a great deal of hope for the future in that thought.

The Guardian pressed his forehead to the woman's gently, his eyes still closed as he collected his breath, a short smile peering on his lips. "It would be wise to get dressed and leave as quickly as possible, before we stay here for another night." The daunting relic still awaited them, and a path that Ander was anxious to explore.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Mmm, let the world burn, was the only thought that drifted through Samara's thoughts as their lips locked once more. It wasn't that she wanted to stop indulging in desire, but even she fell prey to exhaustion -- and her's might lead to draining her Elf dry of every drop of blood. In her current state being responsible for killing Ander would shatter her mentally, and the Vampire would embody everything people dreaded and loathed of the nocturnal predators.

A soft moan followed Ander's embrace while they kissed; a sign of appreciation that the man's passion was so constant toward her even after all they'd done together thus far. They could indulge more later, of course. Somewhere more comfortable than a broken tent in a camp of departed souls. Even a Vampire could appreciate a soft bed as opposed to the little rocks that stabbed through a thin bedroll.

With a bark of laughter, Samara slid both hands between them and shoved down on Ander's chest. She straightened her upper body up and straddled him with a smirk for a moment. "Truly? I recall my attempt to do just that was met with lust-filled denial." When Ander had captured her at the edge of camp as the Dark Elf sought to escape the blanket of darkness being wrapped about her.

As Samara rose, her white rings lingered with Ander watchful of any attempt to pull her back down. She'd bat such an attempt aside with her hands in playful denial of another tryst.

"Let's see if first you permit your Vampire to adorn herself in clothing once more, shall we?" Only then would they evaluate whether they managed to leave the camp in pursuit of fame and fortune -- or whatever she had in mind when she first came to these woods. Truthfully, at this point, she'd begun to forget the urgency behind her actions that led to that night's affair. Some sort of concern about a relic?

Every now and then the Vampire's white hot gaze would steal in Ander's direction as Samara dressed herself once more. A smile held fast to her lips all the while. Just the act of preparing to set off was a game, which she intended to win this time -- just so they could finish their business in the woods and set out to build a new life for themselves. Preferably somewhere with creature comforts.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Samara was really trying to tempt him. Ander was almost certain that she meant to slowly dress up in front of him, one small piece of clothing at a time, while the bare parts of her body still remained free for him to look, to torture himself over the fact that they couldn't simply indulge their desires once again, without risking death by exhaustion, at least in his case. Not to mention the relic that only grew more distant at each passing moment that they waited.

Slowly, he ran a few of his fingers over his own chest, recalling Samara's teasing touch just moments ago, before she rose to find her clothes and get prepared to leave - again. Like a man clinging to his last memories, Ander lost himself in that moment, not even noticing as Samara shot him a few smiles here and there, while he remembered the taste of their kiss just moments before, the sweetness of such gesture, the tightness and passion of their embrace as it had been all night.

The longest and most delightful night of his life, special enough to overshadow the night when Avhalos fell. He still remembered the last thing he saw that night... The moon, so high and majestic, the stars filling the sky that he had always dreamed of reaching. The Elders spoke of how the Ancestors had hidden themselves from the world in the sky, sneaking amongst the stars, and it had always been his wish to join them, but he could never do it. Not when he almost bled out in the ground of ruined Avhalos, forever out of reach.

He raised his gaze to look towards Samara again, blushing slightly when he caught her looking at him again, a smile on her lips, the smile that had conquered him, one of Aendreasas' mightiest swords. She had seemed to be evaluating him, gauging his intentions, as to whether or not the warrior would try and hold her on that bedroll again, their rather uncomfortable bed for the night that had all but served its purpose.

"I would rather see you without anything, lady, but I fear we must linger no longer." He spoke firmly but not without affection, just before a smile of his own appeared on his lips, as Ander pushed himself to his feet, teasing Samara as he threw away the only fur blanket they had found in that tent. It was his turn to torture the vampire now.

Ander took his time in reaching his clothing and few pieces of armor. As a warrior who relied on speed, he refused to wear any heavy plate, wearing only a few worn pieces of his old Guardian armor on his shoulder and wrists, barely without any grace and beauty left on them. They were dulled and grey, but still served for the purpose of protection. Of course, he started with his pants and boots, though he was taking his precious time in wearing his shirt, casting playful glances at Samara all the while.

"Missing something, Samara?" He laughed confidently. Ander was surely determined to have the last laugh... but would he?

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara's eyes shone in the fading night as Ander slowly dressed himself.

Dshara's tendrils had wrapped themselves about the Dark Elf turned Vampire; with them came thoughts of what beauty and majesty they would bring into the world together. The Dark One desired to fill the realm with countless monsters. Most of which those that lived now would question why or how such a thing could exist. It was the desire to Create twisted by madness; a desire that whispered insistently in Samara's ear and bloomed within her heart.

The carnal exchange had been a means to an end in Dshara's view. Desire, temptation, and endless promises. Ander professed his love and wanted nothing more than to demonstrate it physically -- which to Dshara was a suitable stand in for spending hours talking incessantly on the matter. It'd drawn Samara across the thin line in her soul to the darkness the Dark One had formed in the Dark Elf's soul. Of course the would-be means of freeing Dshara from her prison was far from surrendering her own existence for the goddess, but so much traction had been made in a single night just getting the Vampire to fall into the writhing mass of darkness within.

Slowly, the pale figure turned as Ander dressed. Once he began to don his shirt is when Samara closed the distance between them; she slowly walked around one side behind the Elf as her hand reached out to caress the side of Ander's neck. Her fingers slid down the slope to his shoulder as she pressed up against his back. "Not as long as I have you," Samara purred.

There was lust, yes, but that was a consequence not the driver of her actions. The maddening desires were formed on Ander's abandon, which demanded they keep the Elf close. How better to do that than make him indispensable? Irresistible. He had become Samara's obsession; one where she would feed off his blood as well as his tendency to enable the darkness within to grow. So many possibilities lay before them in need of exploration. Dark questions that needed answers to bring Samara closer in line with the Dark One's calm, composed, and beautiful insanity.

Answers they would get... after dealing with the relic. Only because they'd come all that way, and didn't need 'competition' ruining a perfectly good kingdom to rule. Oh, had she thought about claiming a kingdom? Well, that's just what one did to spread the word about a goddess wasn't it? Show Her glory, and help people see the error of denying it? There were many such thoughts yet to be solidified waiting to discover what would give them form. Time would soon tell.

Samara's other hand slid around Ander's side to rest over his stomach. "Let's deal with our business in the woods swiftly so we return to other, more stimulating matters."

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Putting on that cloak and armor felt different, for the first time in a while. Ander had felt that once before, after the demise of his homeland, when the symbol on his cloak lost all its meaning. He felt shame and guilt, the sensation that he was wearing something that didn't belong to him, that he was unworthy of donning that armor and holding that sword.

But now... The Guardian had regained some of his old pride, and with great help from the woman standing next to him, smiling as he finished putting on his shirt. Samara approached him suddenly, but Ander wasn't startled or afraid, he welcomed and yearned for her closeness. The elf closed his eyes and took in the soft feeling of her touch as she slowly circled around him, pressing herself to his back, with a smile that never left his lips. She was truly making it hard for Ander not to hold her on that bedroll again.

"You will always have me, Samara." He spoke, determined and assured. She was the reason he was starting to feel... alive, after so much time wandering the lands like a ghost. In such a short time, the Dark Elf had become a beacon of strength to him, and Ander could never be away from her. The elven warrior bit his lower lip as he felt her hand slowly crossing over his stomach, trying his best to contain his carnal urges.

It was difficult not to agree with her words, though Ander suspected that the matter of the relic would be so easily resolved, especially after all the time they spent in that camp, lost to their passion and desires. Truthfully, he had even lost some sense of duty in that night, and given the choice, he would have preferred to spend even more time with Samara, but they couldn't let the world be plunged into a eternal darkness by whoever sought to claim that artifact.

He had drifted from his path before, he couldn't do that again.

"Then I suppose we should depart quickly then." Slowly, Ander turned to face her, taking her hand and gazing deeply into her eyes. They stood merely inches away from each other, and yet Ander still longed for more. That relic would never keep her away from him, he would vow that upon his sword if he had to. Gently, the elf traced a line along the side of her face, his blue eyes almost burning with love for her. For once, he was anxious for what the future held in store for him... for them.

Reluctantly, the Guardian took a few steps away from her, reaching for his sheathed sword and grabbing it with purpose. It seemed that he had regained some of the fire for battle that he once had, and that meant danger for any who stood in their way.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

With the Elf echoing her thought about departing, Samara smiled as he caressed her face with the tip of a finger. They could tell the man wanted to linger, and there was a deep desire to indulge him, but the Vampire hadn't completely lost her senses yet. Harming or killing Ander through abandon of all sense or care was not what they wanted. Best to turn their attention to other matters -- something that would occupy them physically and mentally. If only for a time.

"Follow me," the Vampire purred as she began to stride from the camp with surer footing than the last time she'd made the attempt.

Shortly after entering the trees, Samara made a slight adjustment to their path to guide her Elven Lover through the woods. The minor deviation was to avoid tripping on the pile of bones of one of the dead that had been animated. The magic had devoured their flesh until all that remained was a bleached pile; their protection had long since fled from the world, not that either of the Elves had noticed or cared throughout the night.

Samara's white rings darted off to the side at the lightening of the horizon through the canopy. Dawn was coming. The Vampire mentally hissed at the thought of the light flooding their eyes. Before it was a nuisance, but a consequence of being made a Vampire; now, with the touch of darkness not fought at every turn Samara found the thought of suffering the burden of a sun upsetting. The blues, indigos, purples, violets, and blacks were far superior to the yellow, orange, and white of daylight. Ander looked particularly deadly beneath the grace of the moon.

An hour into their trek, Samara dropped low behind a tree as her eyes peered into the distance ahead. Being able to see in pitch black had become less of an advantage as time wore on. Her sense of smell was not that of some other Vampiric lines, but a hunter's instincts warned something was ahead.

With a hand signal, Samara indicated to Ander she thought something lay along their path. Cultists, perhaps, in the woods securing a wide perimeter? This time, Samara would let her warrior take the lead curious what his training would reveal about himself.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

Even with all his training and discipline, Ander never truly shed his spoiled arrogance, at least not completely. Over the years, his mind had matured and he found his own path in life, away from the protection of his family - in order to serve and protect others. But with that, came the fruits of his labors, the prestige he had earned as a warrior. He wasn't one to kindly give up on the things he wanted the most, and right now...

Right now he only wanted to stay in that tent with Samara for all of eternity, just as she had offered. But they couldn't, and for a short moment, his sense of discipline had been replaced by a blasphemous hatred towards the shackles of duty. Why did the burden of securing that relic from the paws of evils had to fall on their shoulders, just as they had found happiness in each other?

Had he not given enough of his life to protect others? Had he not lost everything because of it? In truth, Ander blamed no one but himself, it were his own choices that led him down that path, but he was also terrified that the same fate could befall the woman he loved. He couldn't bear to lose Samara, he couldn't bear to lose everything again, but they had to leave their small paradise. And with her request to follow her, Ander quickly complied, entering the woods shortly after, though he looked back at the tent a couple times.

That place would always be special to him, even if it had been a encampment in the middle of this unknown forest, bloodied with the guts of their enemies. Men who had fallen and then brought back into the servitude of darkness, whose flesh had been all but devoured by whatever strange magic had possessed them, with only their bones remaining, and Samara skillfully guiding him so as to not trip upon them.

Time went by quickly as they walked, the sun finally appearing on the horizon, a welcoming sight to him, but one that had brought a fair bit of discomfort to Samara, something that didn't escape Ander's notice. He knew that the sun posed as one of a Vampire's greatest threats, and even as powerful as she was, his lover would surely feel the ill effects of it.

Not long after, Samara caught wind of a presence just up ahead, and the Guardian felt it shortly afterwards. More enemies lay in wait for them, even if they were not yet aware of the pair of hunters, preying on the relic that these people so desperately chased after. Ander looked towards Samara, who seemingly waited for him to take charge of this coming attack. Almost instinctively, the elf's hand slowly drifted towards the hilt of his sword on his waist, securing it tightly. "If these are the same people who wish to take the relic for their own dark agenda... We must kill them all." He spoke with fire in his eyes, the embers of battle slowly but surely burning inside him. Ander was anxious to bathe his sword in blood again. "Except for one. One who could provide us with answers."

He signaled Samara to follow him as they silently approached the small gathering, examining the perimeter and finding that these unknown opponents were only a few, separated from each other. From his own experience, not fighting as a unit would be their demise, and something that Ander and Samara could use as an advantage. The elf nodded to her, before splitting to take a side path towards one such unsuspecting enemy, drawing his sword without making a sound.

With a single thrust of the blade through the man's heart, Ander commenced the attack, watching the man fall lifeless upon his feet and raising his head to glance at the rest of them, waiting for Samara. He had been itching to fight beside her again.

Samara Asenta

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara smiled over at Ander as he explained his intent. A reasonable proposal. Keeping one alive would also suit her as a refreshing snack afterward. After all, there was no telling what they might face ahead. They should be prepared to take advantage of Dshara's full blessing, which meant being well hydrated. "Prudent," she replied not wanting to delay implementing the Elf's plan.

The pale Vampire followed the Elven man as he slipped through the woods. Ander had no reason to worry about Samara making unnecessary noise as they moved; the Dark Elf had hunted many prey in the woods in The Spine around her home. Likewise, her lover was not inexperienced in these matters himself despite what may have befallen his own lands.

At Ander's signal, Samara waited as he snuck up behind a wayward soul to end their existence. The ease with which the man moved and executed his target was breathtaking. He would definitely serve as a worthwhile guardian in addition to other roles.

With the attack begun, the Vampire's white rings turned toward another in the immediate area. She grinned for just a moment before her pale form streaked out from the brush toward her first victim. Everything seemed to come to her so naturally now that Samara had stopped trying to restrain herself. Their throat fit perfectly in the palm of Samara's hand; the impact alone was enough to crush the man's esophagus and break his neck, and yet Samara hauled his body away to hide it from sight.

A short while later she emerged from behind a tree to look at Ander. Was there one in particular he had in mind for them to spare? Her eyes shifted toward those remaining. The one with more gravitas would be their best bet -- or anyone that might try issuing orders to stay alive.

Ander'ashan Merellien

 

[Ander'ashan Merellien]

He could feel them again... The embers of battle still burned inside Ander, and he could feel them again, like back in the encampment, when they massacred those mercenaries. His sword slowly drove through the robe wearing man, blood splattering from the wound as the man slowly fell on his knees, groaning against the palm of Ander's hand, who sought to silence his pained and alarming scream. The elf gave the blade a short twist before pulling out in a single swift move, enough to finally take that man's life without much ceremony.

The Guardian barely looked to his side as the Cultist fell next feet, blood gushing from his wound and staining the green ground, painting the leaves red. There was still more blood to be spilled, more lives taken on behalf of justice and goodness, to prevent those men from reaching the relic and bringing upon the world a neverending darkness. Ander raised his gaze, almost immediately finding Samara as she easily took care of some other enemy.

They had successfully breached the perimeter formed to keep them away, and once inside... Nothing would stop the pair of vicious fighters. Ander knew as much, and no doubt Samara would share of this same confidence, especially with how she had seized a man by his throat, slamming and destroying him with little to no trouble. The warrior let out a proud smile, before proceeding onwards inside the gathering, where he was met by two other Cultists, daggers in hand and unknown words being professed at him.

If they were curses being thrown at him, what better remedy than to take care of the root of the problem?

With that in mind, Ander charged at one of them, his first attack being blocked by the man, who couldn't have anticipated the speed at which the elf would move again, lines of light appearing on his skin as his sword almost vanished mid air, before he managed to connect steel and flesh, making a deep cut on the man's chest. Before committing to another attack though, Ander had to brace himself against the downward slash from the other Cultist, blocking it with his sword and fiercely looking upon his eyes.

"You shall not stop the darkness!" The cultist growled, trying to upset Ander in the middle of combat, but his focus was unwavering. He pushed back the cultist and proceeded to throw the dagger off his hand, before ramming his sword through him and watching him fall to the ground. The other cultist managed to sneak away during that, screaming at his fellows to try and escape. "Retreat! Retreat and live!"

Unlucky for him, the others would no doubt be occupied with Samara, an even more vicious threat to them than Ander. From the other side of the gathering, he looked at his Dark Elf with a confident smile nodding at her before casually following the escaping Cultist.

He would not get far with that cut in his chest, though Ander hoped the man could live long enough to provide them with answers.

Samara Asenta