Private Tales In Darkness, We Meet

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Larewen Dragana

Larewen Dragana

The Mad Necromancer
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It was a dark, cloudy night, and it was a small Allirian town that Larewen approached. Small enough that she was toying with the idea of enslaving them--turning those she didn't kill in feeding to undead husks of their former selves. She pressed her tongue against the pointed canine of the right side of her mouth, drawing a trickle of blood thickened with corruption to blossom on the top surface of the membrane. A gloved hand rose upward, its wrist perfumed with a sandalwood, which a nice complement to the clover cigarettes she smoked.

There was a lot on the intricately clad woman's mind. The moon didn't show this night, and Larewen found extra comfort in that fact. She drew her cloak around her, the pitch cloth forming to her body as she pulled the hood of her cloak upward over a fedora capped head, to which a thin black lace veil was pinned. The view from both front and behind the elf was a dark figure, heeled boots clicking their cadence against the rock and dirt of the road. Surely my dress is filthy, she thought, looking down at her feet. Larewen pulled up the skirt of her dark green bustle gown to see the discoloration and sighed audibly.

Reaching into the pocket of her cloak, the elf withdrew a small silver case that would have glinted in the moonlight. From within it, she took something even smaller. It was one of those clover smokes she was so fond of. She placed it between pale lips and lit it with a passing of her hand. The elf drew a breath inward, smoke curling upward from the cigarette's fiery ember.

Mismatched eyes surveyed the necromancer's immediate vicinity, seeking a place where she might rest a moment. A tree would suffice, and 'lo and behold, there was one just a little further down. The crunched under her feet as she maneuvered over to it, and she leaned back against its timber. Her eyes were upward, and she seemed pretty content to forget her sins. Aside from her silhouette, the only thing anyone might feel from any distance from her would be an oppressive aura--one of her many curses: those with a taste for magic could sense her, and locate her, easily enough if they wanted to. Here, in the middle of nowhere, it was peaceful. Too much so, and she'd have to rectify that, but enough.

Adrian Black
 
Adrian had tracking the sandalwood and clover smelling vampire for a week or so now. She was constantly moving and he was always just a hair behind her. He just knew when he was close to her and it was a nice change to his usual tracking via guessing and witnesses.

He dressed simply when he traveled (which was all the time these days). His black boots were worn but still in excellent shape, the black trousers and black half tie up top were on the newer side. The boots were the best thing he had every purchased and he wouldn't trade them until they fell off his feet. It was the little things in this tragic life.

The smell of clover hit him as the breeze danced around him. She was here. Perfect. Adrian pulled his bow from his back and plucked his custom arrow from the quiver and notched it. Adrian was a big proponent of word smarter, not harder when it came to killing the supernatural. The arrows he had designed (and made) were a composed of thicker wood that essentially turned his arrows into stakes.

He held the bow down towards the ground as he gathered the darkness around him to hide him from the night enhanced vision of the vampire. It was only a minute or so of following the scents that he saw her leaning against a tee. Could it be that easy? He was not going to question it.

Adrian moved closer and brought the bow up to take his shot. He adjusted for distance and wind before letting the arrow fly towards the woman.

Larewen Dragana
 
And she was hit--but not in her unholy, reanimated heart. Close, but not quite there. A startled hiss left her lips, the pain following just after the thunk of the arrow that pinned her to the tree. It landed nearer to the center of her chest, and around it, her blood oozed. If you could even call it blood--it was more of a black ichor, something more likely to be seen in one of the risen. It was another of her curses, of which she carried four or five in that short, slender body.

What followed her hiss, was a low growl, guttural in its nature. Then it turned to laughter as she threw her head back against the tree. Larewen made no attempt to rip the arrow free, and instead swept her gaze over toward where she'd heard the whistle of the arrow's flight, though clearly not quickly enough, right? No... He'd caught her off guard, and this was one of only a few nights in which she tried to rest.

Her eyes were useless, though--the black threads of the magic he used too dark in her unseeing eye. Her right was no better: though it could look upon him, she failed to see through the darkness that he wore. A frown weighed her lips downward and the laughter stopped. Her eyes closed for a moment as she gathered her thoughts, and then finally when she spoke, it was almost inhuman.

"I can't see you," came her voice, sweet and tinkly like a silver bell well-kept. "Why not show yourself, as opposed to behaving like a coward?" Her nostrils flared as she struggled to find the source of her attacker. He was familiar to her, if only by the sheer fact she's caught a whiff of him a time or two tailing her. Only Adrian was not what Larewen expected. If anyone wanted her dead, it was someone from her home. Or at least, that's what was logical to the necromancer.

Adrian Black
 
Adrian cursed as the arrow narrowly missed the vampires undead heart. He saw the dark blood seep from the wound and reached to grab another arrow. He notched it and brought the bow up to aim when he heard the laughter come from her.

It was terrible and seductive at the same time. He felt a chill run up his spine as he watched her movements carefully. The good news was that he could clearly see her but she could not see him. It was always a blessing when he actually witnessed his magic working.

"I can't see you. Why not show yourself, as opposed to behaving like a coward?"

Adrian chuckled lightly at her words. He was no coward for trying to take down a rapid animal without getting hurt himself. He was smart and practical.

He moved to his left with silent steps and lifted the bow. Another stake like arrow flew towards its target.

Larewen Dragana
 
The soft chuckle did not escape the keen hearing Larewen had. Her head turned toward the rasping sound and her lips opened, baring pearlescent fangs to her attacker--assuming his eyesight was as good as hers, if not better. It didn't click in her mind that clearly Adrian possessed the superior vision. As her left hand lifted to pull free the first arrow, he fired the second.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she grumbled under her breath. There was no surprise in his second attack. Even though he made no natural sounds in his movement, the bolt did. She threw her right hand up toward the whispering song of the dart, and caught it with the palm of her hand. The arrowhead tore through the soft flesh, stinging. She didn't cry out this time. Perhaps it was less painful than the other one had been, or she'd simply been read this time. You'd think by her age that she'd be a lot less hurt by his mundane weaponry.

"Right then," she whispered, the words so low it was almost inaudible. The injured hand remained raised as she brings her other hand up to dislodge it as well. Afterward, the necromancer pulled herself away from the tree and turned towards the source of the arrow that had impaled her hand. She began to whisper a dark and archaic litany, a fierce grin overtaking her mouth. A black fog formed at her fingertips and curled around her hand. It was like both a waterfall and a fire pit at once, the pitch fumes expanding and growing outward. Her hand dropped, wrist twisting so that her palm faced Adrian. You could see through the hole made by the man's bow.

The darkness was almost tangible as it flowed from her hand, growing and swimming around her body like smoke. One twitch of a gloved finger, and it flowed in his direction slowly. He could escape it if he could outrun it--and if he couldn't... well, he deserved whatever fate he would receive at her hands.

Adrian Black
 
Adrian had to appreciate her reflexes even with his camouflage and light steps. She was determined to not die on this night and he could tell that he was just pissing her off at this point. Oh well, Adrian was not here for her comfort. He was here to kill her.

He could not understand what she was saying but, fuck, that grin sent shivers down his spine. The black fog forming from her hand was terrifying but he could not pull his eyes away from it. Larewen's hand dropped and the fog started to move down then forward...towards him...

Fuck!

The vampire hunter didn't know exactly what the fog was except that it could not be good. At all. Not even a little bit.

He turned and ran away from the fog.

He was too slow though.

Larewen Dragana
 
The fog doesn't hurt him; she was using it as her eyes, as she had when she could see from neither and only the right one showed those threads of magic that guided her for some time. It was cold, though--the mist that blanketed the ground around his feet. Its dark fingers were colder than the grave as it sought to take hold on his foot. The blackness was thick, its movement slowing. One good, athletic jump, and Adrian could leap out of it.

Stepping through the swirling shadows, Larewen's hand rose to her breast and gloved fingers curled around the stake that pierced her bosom. With one hard tug, she pulled the ichor-stained timber from her and cast it to the ground. Her lips trembled slightly as she bit back the grunt that wanted to accompany the act. She felt far worse in the past; the arrows were nothing like a dragon blood imbued knife upon her skin.

"So," the elf lilted, mismatched eyes searching the night in front of her. It was the gentle break in the fog around his foot that guided her finally, but her stare didn't meet his. Larewen focused on his general direction. That silvery, sing-song voice pervaded the night once more as she continued, "What have you learned? Or are you a new hunter?"

Larewen was more amused by than hurt by his attempt on her life. She took another step forward and stopped, leaving a couple feet between herself and where she felt him to be. Her tongue appeared, moving over her lips to moisten them, and she cocked her head to the side. "I will only tell you this once: show yourself.

Adrian Black
 
And maybe if Adrian had been thinking clearly, he would have taken that jump but his mind was far from clear. Larewen was staring straight at him as he stood trapped by her magic, but he realized that she still couldn't see him. It was obvious that she knew where he was but he was still a relative mystery. He wondered if he could use that to his advantage.

"What have you learned? Or are you a new hunter?"

"I have learned that I need to work on my aim," Adrian answered her with a sneer. "And I need to shoot quicker...one after the other immediately...if you will," he added to turn the stake just a little more.

Adrian looked at Larewen maybe three feet in front of him and he couldn't help but admire her beauty. Sure, she was a vampire, but he could appreciate a beautiful woman.

"I will only tell you this once: show yourself."

What did he have to lose if he did? Nothing. He was caught in her web.

Adrian dispelled the camouflage around him so that he was completely visible to the vampire.

Larewen Dragana
 
Disappointment glittered in Larewen's mismatched eyes, his acquiesce to her demand was met too rapidly for the elf to have any real fun. Her own sneer curled her lips and her eyes narrowed. With a wave of her hand, the thick fog moved back toward her, following its previous trek back to the caster. Her hands, having freed her body of the arrows, fell to her side. The cold grave-like grip of the fog loosened and released him, providing him with the chance to run away if he had any such sense of self-preservation.

The necromancer waited a beat of her black heart, then a second beat, to see what Adrian would do. She closed the distance between him and circled around him: a monster closing in on her victim. As she came before him again, she stopped and faced him, ivory fangs bared. She lifted a gloved finger to prod at one of them.

"Perhaps that is true," she murmured in answer to his sneering words, suddenly reaching up toward his chin. Her intention was to bring his gaze down to her level--if it was even necessary. She cooed, "What would be the worst fate you've ever beheld?"

Adrian Black
 
Adrian tried to act nonchalant as the vampire assessed him. He felt the shiver of fear run up his spine as she came to stand in front of him though. He looked down at the woman and he tried to pull his chin away from her grasp. She was stronger than him though and his chin was held tightly.

"What would be the worst fate you've ever beheld?"

Her voice sent another shiver a fear through him but this time it spread out to every single fiber of his being.

"Being a monster like you!" Adrian growled.
 
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Larewen laughed. It might have been a guffaw if she hadn't caught it early. Instead, she softens the blow of her amusement for no given reason as she turned his head from side to side. She released him a moment later.
It wasn't the first time Larewen had been called a monster--in truth, the necromancer earned that title through past deeds, and it did little to dishevel the seemingly immaculate noblewoman.

"If you think I'm a monster, you're grossly understating me," the elf pointed out. She circled him a second time before reaching for his throat. If he didn't move, her fingers would reach to caress his cheek, hand lingering to the side as she sought a view of his neck.

For a moment, she considered turning him and watching as the madness of her own blood, a curse, took hold on him. She finally released him a took a step back. "Would you like to see?" she asks.

Adrian Black
 
Adrian didn't move as the vampire's fingers caressed his cheek. He was one hundred precent sure she was going to attack him but she didn't. He narrowed his icy eyes at her and assessed the situation. He had lost the element of surprise and now she was way too close. Her fingers let his face and she took a step back.

"Would you like to see?"

"Only if I will be able to kill you afterwards or you kill me. One of us isn't leaving here tonight," Adrian said without any hint of fear in his voice.

Larewen Dragana
 
Another one of those wicked grins flashed across pale lips beneath the cover of her veil. Larewen found the man to be amusing, more so than threatening. But then, Larewen rarely felt threatened. It was a thrill that she long missed, and it was a dance the elf could certainly partake in.

“Only one of us has a life to lose,” she reminded him, clicking her tongue against the rough of her mouth as if she thought he was foolish. One of them were. This was a battle of dangerous egos, more than it was of life and death. The question was, who would make the next move?

Normally, Larewen would have dealt with him already, and unkindly so, but his unwavering fear was something to be celebrated. He'd tried to sneak up on an old one, and now they were caught in this dance of death that he seemed to be egging on.

She moved forward suddenly, a dark, blood-stained hand reaching for his throat with every intent of casting him to the ground. The elf usually relied on her magic, and yet she still might.

Adrian Black
 
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