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Rated: 18+ · Campfire Creative · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #952974
Vampires and humans fight in ancient Transylvania (DONE)
[Introduction]
First, a brief history lesson about Transylvania... It sits upon the Transylvanian Plateau, which is northwest of the Black Sea, and borders the Carpathian Mountains to the east. It was part of the realm of Dacia from its origin in 2nd century BC until around 10th century AD when it became part of Hungary. Dacia, and thus Transylvania, was part of the Roman Empire from 101 to 271 AD. The Roman occupation ended when the imperials suddenly evacuated the province. Historians theorize this was because of the pressure of Goth invasions and the need for additional military support in the rest of the empire. But that can't be the only reason.

And that's where history is thrown to the wind and this campfire takes its place. It is the very beginning of the year 271 AD, and the Romans have pulled their imperial administration and the majority of their soldiers from the new Dacian capital of New Sarmizegetusa. Two legions still remain, but the Dacians of Blidaru, Piatra Rosie, and Capalna have begun to muster their men and take back the capital. The cities of Costesti and Banita have remained neutral.

In the background of this conflict, several pagan witches opened a portal to Hell with a powerful incantation, though they all died in the process or shortly afterwards. The portal lies in the ruins of Old Sarmizegetusa, destroyed 170 years earlier in the Roman conquest. From this portal came hundreds of devilish spirits before it closed. These spirits entered the bodies of those dead nearby, turning them into Vukodlaki, or vampires.

The weaker spirits turned their corpses into walking dead, still rotted from years without life. The most powerful spirits restored their victims to become almost human, and form the leadership of the vampire army. At the moment they have the fortress of Old Sarmizegetusa as their base, but some more ambitious leaders want to attack the human settlements nearby. The need for blood is becoming apparent.

Now that the stage is set, it is your turn to choose a character. You can be one of the vampire leaders, a Roman from one of the two legions in the capital, or a Dacian from any of the five fortresses. And try to spread yourselves evenly between the three if that's possible. You could even have one from each if you want, but no more than one character in each faction per person.

In your first post, please include a bio block for your character(s). You can start into the story right away if you wish, but don't feel obligated to do so. Bio blocks should include...

Name:
Faction (Vampire/Roman/Dacian):
Age:
Spirit's Age (vampires only):
Rank (Romans only):
Fortress (Blidaru/Piatra Rosie/Capalna/Costesti/Banita, Dacians only):
Appearance:
Personality:
Background:
Fighting Style/Weapons:
Other (optional):

Remember that this is way back in 270, so crossbows and advanced weapons like that haven't been invented. Oh, and don't kill any other players' characters unless they have permission. I'll give you three days for your turn, and, unless you email me for extra time, I'll be obligated to skip you. If you have any questions or anything just ask me and I shall answer. And most of all, have fun!

Here's the character line up so far, summarized:

Romans;

Marcus Asarius
Liber Avitus
Fidelis Octavius
(Need some females maybe?)

Dacians;

Av Gredoran
Ilei Bendis Piatra
Cicero Gallus
Elaena Rosalyn Turminne
(Need someone from Banita)

Vampires;

Goldemoth
London
Katonah
Daria Taecan
Katarina Dragulescu
(Some more male vampires would be appreciated)

Nice job on keeping it pretty balanced everyone. Keep up the good stuff.
Alright I'll start off with my characters... I'll do one from each faction so none of them feel left out.

**

Name: Marcus Asarius

Faction: Roman

Age: 34

Rank: Centurion of First Legion

Appearance: Centurion Asarius stands just over six feet, with dark brown, medium-length hair and a shaven chin. He has blue eyes and toned, tanned features. Asarius wears Roman armor, of course, with the tell-tale red plume atop his helmet that signifies his rank.

Personality: Asarius is a staunch believer in the strength of the Roman Empire, and several of his soldiers have suffered harshly for speaking against it. Marcus upholds strict discipline on his subordinates, practising battle formations and sparring each day.

Background: Marcus is the son of a wealthy Roman merchant, who entered the army because he had no skills with money. He quickly rose through the ranks, showing loyalty, strength, and fighting prowess. His legion was instrumental in the defeats of several small Dacian uprisings, and he is confident that, with the help of the Second Legion, Dacia will remain under Roman control.

Fighting Style/Weapons: Asarius uses only his longsword in battle, as he concentrates more on commanding his troops than slaying the enemy himself. Regardless, he is a potent fighter and has struck down many with his blade.

Other: Centurion Asarius tends to defend rather than attack; a strategy that has its weaknesses.

**

Name: Av Gredoran

Faction: Dacian

Age: 22

Fortress: Blidaru

Appearance: Av is slightly shorter than the average Dacian, and keeps his hair trimmed, unlike most others, who tend to have a somewhat barbaric appearance. He still sports a lengthy beard. Gredoran wears loose, dark clothing to complement his dark blue eyes (though that's not the only reason).

Personality: Av may be quiet, but he gets things done, and despises lazy people. He is known throughout most of Blidaru, having carried out several successful assassinations of Roman officials, and thus has a streak of arrogance. He deals in shadowy places, and responds better to the jingle of coins than an offer of friendship. He is an unwilling, unofficial leader of the Blidaran rebels, but they have other leaders to look up to as well.

Background: Av grew up in a poor family, and his parents were executed by the Romans when he was 12. He was always looking for money, and continues doing so, even though he has ample funds. His hatred of the Romans has brought about the deaths of several of their high-ranking officers.

Fighting Style/Weapons: Using the shadows to conceal his approach, Av uses throwing knives to kill enemies from a distance or a short sword to slay them up close. Most of his victims never know what kills them.

Other: Av is continually forming plans of how to get into New Sarmizegetusa and kill the Roman Centurions, but won't attempt such a task unless he feels truly ready.

**

Name: Goldemoth

Faction: Vampire

Age: 26

Spirit's Age: 1048

Appearance: Goldemoth inhabited and restored the body of a dead Roman soldier. His features -- 6' tall, short blonde hair, hazel eyes, muscular -- are life-like, but he wears a tattered tunic, a broken breastplate, and a torn cape. This makes his presence rather unnerving, to humans at least. Goldemoth still retains some of his demonic side, as short horns poke through his hair and fangs dwell in his mouth.

Personality: Goldemoth seeks to wreak havoc upon the human race, regardless of their allegiance. He pressures the other Vampires to take their undead brethren and destroy the nearest village, which lies just less than a mile south of Old Sarmizegetusa. He is also very arrogant and cruel.

Background: In Hell, Goldemoth was honored with the position of Second Leader of the Guard. Basically he was Lucifer's right hand man's right hand man, though he had less power than many Greater Demon Lords, the rank of most of the other Vampires.

Fighting Style/Weapons: Goldemoth uses his devilish powers to overcome his enemies with brute force, then draining of them of their blood.

Other: Once, many years ago, Goldemoth fought an angel. He would have died if several female Demons hadn't come to his aid. From that day Goldemoth has kept an uncanny respect for those of the other gender.

**

Alright, that's it for now. Remember that you can have up to 3 characters... max one from each faction. If you want to make more than one from a faction then ask me; it shouldn't be a problem.
Name: London (female)

Faction: Vampire

Age: 19

Spirit's Age: 1031

Appearance: An ethereal picture of dark beauty, she has long wavy black hair, peircing black eyes, and full lips hiding her seductivly pointed teeth. She's tall, thin and curvy, with pale skin. She maintains her demonic side through her pointed teeth and milk white skin. She dresses in the best clothes of the century, but all of dark colours, and black pointed boots.

Personality: Seductive, mysterious, enticing, smart, and sneaky.

Background: In Hell, London was like any other regular demon. She had no special status. But as a vampire on Earth, she is very highly thought of.

Fighting Style/Weapons: The longsword when she knows she will be fighting, latched onto her hip. Otherwise, just her strong bite and thirst for fresh blood.
A Non-Existent User
Name: Ilei Bendis Piatra

Faction: Dacian

Age: 20

Fortress:Originally Piatra Rosie but was captured and taken as far as the outskirts of Macedonia, ready to sail to Italia “to enjoy the presence of the emperor.” Ilei escaped to Costesti and finally settled in Blidaru.

Appearance: A bleached white corpse, golden red hair and a face carved in granite, rare in its beauty and unflawed and delicate as sawn ivory. Even in her good fortune, she scowls. Ilei wears a grey Roman stola (tunica) and a blue palla (shawl) which was given to her in her servitude but retains the felt hat that the aristocracy in Dacia traditionally wore.

Personality: She harbours a lot of hate; towards the Romans for her sixteen months slavery, towards Bendis for not protecting her and her brother, towards the neutrality of Piatra Rosie. Ilei is fuelled by her hate but also for her love of her people, the love of her father and of Dacia. She is passionate to a fault.

Background: Ilei is from the tarabostes (aristocracy), her father was a head priest tutored by the son of Deceneus, the head priest to the rightful king of Dacia King Burebista. Her uncle owned a gold mine. They were quite well off.
Ilei was captured for her hair but also for an example of the Dacian women and to be taken back to Italia and put in a kind of circus for the Emperor. Thirteen men and women were taken in the end, and nearly all were taken as personal concubines by the Centurions of the Second Legion, Ilei was saved from that kind of servitude by an Auxiliary who was convinced that she was his daughter that he sold as a slave. Ilei took up Roman dress, language and customs and drove him deeper into madness. But she got his protection so that other Centurions couldn’t touch her. But she by no means suffered as the other slaves did, but still hates as though she did.

Fighting Style/Weapons: Fast. Ilei was trained to be fast and furious in her two handed Dacian Rhomphaia. It is like a curved sabre without a cross-bar. Ilei tires easily, because of her style of fighting.

Other (optional): Her twin brother died in the name of Bendis (an Artemis like goddess) when they were ten years old. This is why Ilei shunned becoming a priestess which was called of her in her rank and being second born to a noble family. Ilei is extremely quick witted and almost has a sixth sense about people and what they are thinking. Before she was captured, when she was eighteen, she was considered “sensitive” to the whims of the earth, and she dreamt of war, pillaging, death and destruction. After her release she has denied that side of her and it has wasted away from disuse.



Name: Liber Avitus
Faction: Roman
Age: 36
Rank: Primus Pilus of the Second Cohort (First Legion)
Appearance: A swarthy skinned, black haired and wide-shouldered man in the prime of his life. Liber is very tall, towering over many of his soldiers. His has a remarkably intelligent poise.
Personality: Witty and cool tempered. Has a commanding presence which helps him gain the respect from his cohorts. He has
Background: Liber was the son of a silk merchant who travelled to Rome on a barge with the Nubian King. Liber escaped and gained Roman citizenship by joining the Roman Army; he spread rapidly through the ranks due to his skill in reading the progress of people and war. He became Primus Pilus after success with his stratagem against the Gauls. Then he was sent East to help conquer the Dacian state.
Fighting Style/Weapons: Liber likes well prepared wars. He studies everything to give the Romans the upper hand. He prefers defensive techniques and rides often with the cavalry into war.
Other: He wants to leave Dacia alone, against the legion’s order.
Name: Katonah

Faction: Vampire

Age: 20

Spirit's Age: 984

Appearance: Katonah restored the body of some girl that had died just a week prior. Her appearance is quite lifelike. She has long raven hair, about 5’8, pale complexion and slender and supple build. Her eyes however are grey, lifeless and hallow and her skin is cold to the touch. Her demonic side shows through in her pointed teeth and claw like nails.

Personality: She is very self-centered, intelligent, vain, and arrogant, not to mention has a lust for death and destruction. She wants to make the world hell on earth.

Background: In hell, she was a powerful demon, though she held no real special rank

Fighting Style/Weapons: She loves the taste of blood and never fails to use her bite, if she is in the mood to make death painful she uses her short sword or her nails to slowly tear at her victims

Other: Katonah rarely ever goes to the Fortress base of the Vampires unless she is summoned or has business their, she spends most of her time in the Dacians cities where she bends in and feeds on unsuspecting victims.

~*~

Name: Fidelis Octavius

Faction: Roman

Age: 23

Rank: He is the Aquilifer of the Second Legion

Appearance: Fidelis is about 6’2 of a tanned complexion. He is well groomed and looks very dignified. His loosely curled hair is dark and is about medium length and his eyes are green. He has a lean and muscular build and wares his roman armor with pride.

Personality: Fidelis is a very passionate person, and has great passion for what he does. He has a light-hearted disposition, which is replaced stern one when he is in battle. He is not afraid of death but he is not in a hurry to die. He keeps his feelings bottle inside and sometimes it is hard to read his feelings.

Background: Fidelis is the son of a wealthy Roman merchant who joined the army to satisfy his father. His bravery and fearlessness in battle soon earned him the rank of Aquilifer.

Fighting Style/Weapons: He carries a short sword and sometimes a dagger, and a small shield. He devotes most of his time to carrying and protecting the standard

Other: Fidelis will not admit it but he hates to see fighting. He is tempted to resign from his post as Aquilifer because he knows it greatly puts his life in danger; however, his pride will not allow it.

~*~

Name: Cicero Gallus

Faction: Dacian

Age: 21

Fortress: Costesti

Appearance: Cicero stands about 6’1. His dark hair reaches just a little ways past his shoulders. He is muscular with a slightly tan complexion. His eyes are pale blue.

Personality: Cicero is indifferent in the whole matter of the Roman occupation and doesn’t really care who wins or loses. He is friendly to be around and very and can be gentle or rough depending on the occasion. He usually silently observes and the wheels are often turning in his head making him a great tactician.

Background: Cicero’s mother is a Roman and Cicero had been to Rome once or twice before. When the other Dacian cities started to rebel His Grandfather summoned his mother back to Rome. His father agreed that she would be safer in Rome and sided with her father. Upon her return, she took with her both her daughters leaving Cicero with his father. Cicero longs for the day they can once again be together and he can see his mother and sisters.

Fighting Style/Weapons: He is skilled swordsman and archer, and is a tactical and agile fighter

Other: He has relatives and friends in Blidaru, Piatra Rosie, and Capalna that are urging him to take up the fight.
Name: Elaena (El-ay-nuh) Rosalyn Turminne (Ter-min-ay)

Faction (Vampire/Roman/Dacian): Dacian

Age: 18 (just celebrated her birthday)

Fortress: Capalna

Appearance: Petite, around 5'3", curvy, perfect hourglass figure, pale creamy skin. Lean muscles from swordplay and dance. She's gorgeous with her deep blue eyes with a silver ring around the edge, and strawberry blonde hair. Her hair was grown long (customary of her status and gender), and is usually pulled back in a long braid. Though, when it's down, it becomes a mass of soft romantic curls. She has full pink lips and rosy cheeks, along with a button nose. She is the most beautiful, and honored royalty of the Dacians. Wears typical Dacian royalty attire when she has to, but in private wears silk Grecian styled robes and sandals, if she is not barefoot. Beautiful smile, naturally white straight teeth. She is always seen wearing a beautiful moonstone on a band of sturdy black silk.

Personality: Very funloving and sweet. However, Elaena has a fierce temper and a stubborn streak. When matched with her keen intelligence and cunning sword skills (and tongue), she is a very formidable opponent in both battle and political argument. Feels strongly about her family's treatment, but still is kind and polite to all that treat her kindly and politely in return. She's very loyal and refuses to backstab anyone, even Romans. She's also incredibly romantic, and dreams of love constantly.

Background: Elaena is the youngest daughter of Illian and Timoh Turminne. She lives in a small but nicely furnished house with her parents and older brother Kahn, who is training to be a General. Her uncle (on her father's side) is the supposed Emperor of the Dacians, but was thrown from his position by the Romans. Her uncle, Diurpaneus II, is the son of Decebalus (who committed suicide) and the rightful king of Dacia. However, he earns to create an empire.
Her other siblings (26-year-old Daina and 30-year-old Mykal) live elsewhere and are married with children. She is considered spoiled (to other poorer Dacians), but shows no signs of it in her personality, and doesn't let her lavished life control who she is. She has also gone through hard times, and uses that as a base for her decisions.

Fighting Style/Weapons: She owns many daggers, but prefers hand-to-hand combat. She is incredibly good at both, though doesn't like serious fighting which results in death. She absolutely hates the idea of death and it is her biggest fear.

Other (optional): Her extroverted personality and lovability have convinced almost all of the Dacians to place her on the throne, instead of her uncle, if they take back their lands. She would make an amazing Empress, but refuses to think of it right now.

-----------------------------
Name: Daria Taecan

Faction (Vampire/Roman/Dacian): Vampire
Age: 22

Spirit's Age: 1001

Appearance: Tall, lithe, fair skin with spattering of light freckles in various places. She took the body of a young mother, whose children had also been slaughtered. Long blonde silky hair flows down her back, and she has deep red eyes (a feature she kept from hell). She has an amazing body, and flaunts it excessively. Long nails are used for drawing blood and in some cases, killing. She's trained the body to become much more fit and muscled. She has the beauty of a new courtesan but the ability of an assassin.

Personality: Very seductive, and cruel. She is the courtesan among vampires, and the temptress among humans. She lures men away and kills them after having her way with them. She is highly thought of and a useful weapon for the vampires. All, both vampires and men, lust for her and she gives it to them regardless. She is a favorite of Lucifer and his high lords. Isn't loyal at all. She's like a snowflake. Beautiful but incredibly cold.

Background: Has been in Hell for quite some time, but Lucifer sent her here to reek havoc among humans, and create a huge increase in lust among them. She is, and always has been, a true courtesan.

Fighting Style/Weapons: Her fangs, nails, body parts. Suffocates when need be, though usually drains them of blood when making love to humans.

Marcus

"Centurion, the soldiers are ready," the servant said, standing in the doorway to Marcus' room.

"Ah, I must've slept too long," the centurion yawned. "I'll be with them right away." With that the servant left, and Marcus got up, a bright sunrise greeting him through the window in his quarters. He stretched, rubbing his triceps, and clothed himself. Within a short time he was in the courtyard, about half of the First Legion awaiting him. "Where are the others?" he asked.

"Resting, Centurion," a soldier replied.

Marcus noticed most of the soldiers looked quite fatigued. "Have them out here by high noon," he said. "Any of you who wishes to rest until then can do so, but this won't happen again."

Several legionaires nodded and walked off, though a good thirty or so remained. They looked a bit concerned; Marcus was acting strangely. "You all can do what you wish until noon," he sighed. "I suppose I'll address you all then."

The confused soldiers whispered amongst themselves as they left the courtyard, as a worried look creeped onto Marcus' face. He remembered the dream he'd just had...

Blood, there was blood everywhere. Great, winged, fiery beasts wandered a flaming rendition of New Sarmizegetusa, each with a corpse tied to their body. Blackness settled in.

Blood, there was blood everywhere. Dacians lined the streets of New Sarmizegetusa, tossing the heads of slain Roman corpses into piles and burning them. An explosion. Blackness.

Emptiness. No one was left. The streets, abandoned. Yet more blackness.


That was the point when Marcus had awoken. Disturbed by the dream, he walked to the library, seeking answers to his questions.

**

Av Gredoran

A dark-clothed man sat beside Av, in the depths of a dark alleyway. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, but darkness still reigned in the shadows. And the rebels of Blidaru reigned in the darkness, ever plotting and ever hating. "The centurions go first, of course," the dark man said, his voice raspy with age. "Then the administration that remains."

"Once the centurions are taken care of, we can just move in and take the city," Av observed. "We outnumber the Legions five to one in Blidaru alone. They cannot hope to stand against us without leadership."

"One legionaire could kill twenty when cornered," the man sighed. "And that's why we need more men from the other four fortresses. Dacia will be Dacian once again."

"We have two. Piatra Rosie and Capalna promised armies."

"Costesti's force is twice the size of Banita's, but they're more loyal to the Romans. If we're not careful the Costestians could destroy us. We need them with us."

"Send someone to talk to their leaders."

"I'm working on it," the dark man grunted. "No takers as yet."

"I'm not doing it," Av said after a moment's pause.

"I know, we need you as an assassin."

"It's what I'm best at, especially when it comes to Romans." Av put a hand on the dagger at his side. "I'll set out to Rome sometime today or tomorrow. Expect the centurions dead within a week."

"I hope we can count on you."

"I'll do my best," Av said with a smile, and left the shadow-clad alley. As he walked down a street to his hideout, a woman walking along at the side of the road caught his eye. She had red hair and pale skin. Av disregarded her and continued on, reviewing his plans mentally.

**

Goldemoth

"I control the army of dead, and I have said that it remains here," the bronze-clad vampire, who sat across from Goldemoth, growled. "I will not tolerate the use of Lucifer's soldiers in such a thoughtless way. For the last time, we will plan out this assault and take the area slowly and systematically!"

"I only ask for half of the dead," Goldemoth glared. "I'll merely establish a better foothold on the country."

"If I want a better foothold, I'll have either Dirag or Mortur do it for me!" the gold vampire yelled as he rose to his feet. "And I can count on them to use my soldiers well, which you surely will NOT do!"

"Jagar--" Goldemoth sighed as the other vampire left the room. Jagar and his worthless cronies were the only things standing in his way to command of the dead army. Rulership of Dacia would quickly follow. He needed them removed, but couldn't do so by himself. Jagar would outmatch him, though Dirag and Mortur were worthless scum unworthy of Satan's praise.

Goldemoth needed someone to take care of Jagar, and fast. There were a number of vampires who were especially esteemed in the eyes of the others. Goldemoth would have to entice one of them. Katonah was a likely choice, but she had already started the destruction, and thus was inaccessible. London was powerful, but she tended to remain neutral. Of the few others that remained, Daria was definitely one to consider.

Jagar shared Goldemoth's weakness to female demons, and Daria was one of the best. If Goldemoth could convince her, Jagar would be history. Then his petty thugs would fall without their powerful protector to back them up. Goldemoth's control would follow. Perhaps, within a hundred years or so, the human race would vanish. That was too far away, the present is far more important than the future.

Goldemoth turned and walked to where he expected Daria to be, hoping that his offer would be accepted. But what would she demand in return...?

**

A war would soon be fought in Transylvania; it was only a matter of time...
A Non-Existent User
Ilei was clad in an enveloping mantle of dark blue wool, caught upon the right shoulder by a heavy gold clasp which strategically broadcasted that she was of knightly class. But it also had a more subtle purpose; a reminder to the younger brother of the king and his family that she was noble and worth their time and that they should be as close as they were when Ilei was born.
She stepped into the pillared room, the scents of musk, sandalwood and the memory of roses wafted around her. It had hardly changed since she was here last as a child.

The two people she wished an audience with were waiting for her with chilling stillness in the left room. Tomah was the first to talk in his low gruff tone, which was void of all affection that one should have for goddaughters “how are you Ilei?”
“Coping, as we all must do at this time”
Illian polished a rhompaia with one clean stroke; her eyes were as cool as the sword in front of her “yes. As we must”
Tomah Turminne broke the imposed stillness, strode towards llei and took her roughly by the upper arms. “What do you want? What do you want with this family?” He pleaded with her. Ilei remained unmoved but prised his hands from her arms leaving the sting of bruising “a revolution, my lord.”
It was Tomah’s turn to look unmoved “revolution?”
“We need the monarchy restored. Elaena-“
“-Elaena is just a child!”
“Elaena is but two years my junior. And no longer a child. She is the rightful Queen”
“Queen?” Tomah scoffed “I thought your lot were into obedience to orthodoxy. Elaena was trained to be Empress, a new modern position”
Ilei straightened her back “my lot believe in the monarchy”
“You are not as humble as you try to be Ilei. You are from noble stock. But you snubbed your rank and consorted with the radicals”
Ilei met his hard glance, able of meet fire with fire “my rank and my nobles were concerned with wealth and capital while our country was being invaded. The Radicals, as you call them, were the first offensive against the Romans”
Tomah snorted “and that was a great success was it, no?”
“It did show that you were prepared to let villagers die”
“I resent the insinuation-“
“You can resent it as much as you like” Ilei replied smartly, “it does not lessen the truth. My lord, are you prepared to salve the wound in our people?”
Tomah sighed in defeat, “you take my youngest daughter from me?”
“You, my lord, took her from yourself with your lack of concern for your people when it was needed”
“You speak out of turn Ilei Bendis Piatra”
“Maybe so” Ilei said “but I speak for the benefit of Dacia”
“You sound Roman in your blind ignorance”
“I am neither Roman, blind nor ignorant”
“No” Illian finally spoke, putting the rhompaia back into its sheath. Her exotic doe eyes settled on Ilei “you drove a man to madness,” they slipped towards her husband “by all the means you had at your disposal”
“I am, lady, incredibly resourceful” Ilei gave the woman who had once been her “spiritual” mother a rueful smile. Since the monarchy dissolved, no one had spared a thought for the spiritual needs of a bastard child now woman who shunned priestess-hood because of her desire to fight.
“That I believe” Illian didn’t smile, only her eyes offered suppressed mirth “you have changed greatly from the babe I held in my arms, when I, myself, was not much older than yourself. I agreed then to look after the growth of you into the light of Zalmoxis”
“It never was a spiritual agreement. I am a bastard. It was advantageous to have your favour”
“And yet you scald us with your tongue. You say you want us only for our daughter. Our favour”
Ilei replied “I did not mean to offend”
“Oh?” Illian lay languidly on the couch. Her husband behind, looking on at the situation unaware that the sparks flown were amiable but nevertheless could still sting “and how could you not offend us?”
Ilei chose, wisely, to not reply. Illian waved a finger and a servant handed Ilei a cup of sherbet from the East. “And how do you drive a man insane?” Illian asked “how do you help a man, ‘loose his marbles’ as the Franks say?”
“The Auxiliary of which you speak of had already ‘lost his marbles’; I just merely displaced them so he could not find them ever again”
“I reckon you wicked” Illian said suddenly “they said you drove him mad by your magic, your beauty”
“People will always talk”
“You are all edges today” Illian said. Her eyes slipping to her husband again “will you ever tie yourself to a man, Ilei?”
Ilei remained calm, although a sense of foreboding stood heavily on her “I had not thought -”
“You will drive another man senseless; that is what I predict”
“You are harsh”
“I choose to be harsh just as you choose to be vengeful. They were both traits we have since being children. But you, you revel in vengefulness”
“I do what I can”
“No one could ever accuse you of being slack” Illei lifted her eyebrow but Illian continued “it took courage coming here and breeching the subject of Elaena. Have you thought about her capability to rule?”
“We have” Illei sipped the cup of sherbet “Elaena is the last remaining monarch free to rule. She holds the throne by blood”
“She will marry and that throne will pass to her husband”
“If she marries”
Illian took a short sharp breath “Elaena has thought always of marriage. She is beautiful. She will marry”
“If she wants to” Ilei let that be ambiguous
“Do you know something Ilei? You were considered a sensitive once”
“My father wished it were so”
“How is your father?” Illian’s condescending look faded. She was genuinely concerned about the ailing Konstantin. “Very ill. The current events affect him greatly. His rheumatism has reappeared and his breathing disrupts his sleep. It is his wish to see the family he served back reigning again”
“Is it not his wish for you to join the temple?”
“It is not easy for him or I to decide what to do. I do not wish to disgrace the family, yet I do not want to serve a goddess that was supposed to be protecting us”
“Ten years is a very long time to harbour a childhood anger”
“It was a betrayal” Illei averred “and that is never forgivable. I am his only child now. He would love me to be in a temple. I do not care for the temple life, but I do love my father”
“Do not goddesses work by love?”
Ilei stood up, affronted “you are cruel”
“Ilei” Illian soothed “I’m just assessing if you are still -”
“Don’t” was Ilei’s blunt reply. “I was assessing the readiness of our monarchy I suppose both our findings were undesirable”
“Ilei” Illian said “I do not want Elaena killed”
Ilei stood still “Elaena could either be taken as a slave to a Roman and be killed at whim. She could be struck down while doing her needlework. She could be killed while fighting for Dacia. It’s about honour. That’s what the monarchy has always been about. That’s why we fight. That’s why we should restore the monarchy”
Tomah looked petulant as he looked upon her leaving “and that’s why it took fifteen years for your father to acknowledge you. For his honour?” He turned around to his wife. Who looked solemn, for she was aware of the hurt he had inflicted.

Ilei left the house rather quickly. Knowing that she had accomplished all she had wanted to; the next time she went, they would be more receptive. She eased her mantle up over her head but did not bother to pull it off again when it was thrown off again by a gust of wind. A man was walking down the street; he had taken a look at her and then disregarded her. But she took a longer look, she knew who he was and intended to call on him in the near future.
His name was Av Gredoran; he was a ruddy man deep-bronzed by the sun, eyes startling in the dark face, dark blue eyes. Trimmed and long bearded and handsome. He walked with arrogance in his step; Ilei immediately liked him.
She let him pass without saying a word and stepped into her temporary house. She was going to write a letter. The parchment smelled of an exotic fragrance, not unlike that of the house she was just in.
“Ilei Bendis Piatra?”
At her name, Ilei looked up from her writing on the intruder standing poised against her the old woman who believed herself to be Ilei’s own servant. Ilei nodded at the woman, she hadn’t the strength to argue sense into her today. “It depends” she said “on who you are and what you want”
The dark man bowed low “my name is Dacien and I wish an audience with Ilei Bendis Piatra. I believe she carries anti-roman sentiments”
Ilei removed her shawl “I am she. My lord, do you wish to know to which degree?”
“No” the man said “but I guess it is as much as you wish the revolution to succeed”
Ilei narrowed her eyes, and lifted her eyebrow. But said nothing
“We have a predicament”
Ilei stifled her stupid retort and forced herself to say “go on”
“We want to take the city. So far we outnumber the Legions five to one but only in Blidaru. We need men from four other fortresses. So far Piatra Rosia and Capalna have promised armies”
“You can not trust Costesti” Ilei said “the Romans have made allegiances with their sovereigns. One that may be a wealthy and well capitally matched marriage of a girl of thirteen to an Auxiliary of fifty”
“And that is why I call on you”
Ilei looked severely down on the man “you risk talking to Costesti? And you snub Banita?”
“I was under the impression that you had made some influential friends there”
“As influential as a fire in hell” Ilei remarked lightly.
“I have also heard that you drove a man to madness, you have earned yourself a scandalous yet esteemed reputation. It has spread like wild fire”
“Much like our priestesses who revels in ennui?”
“Indeed” the man said, his eyes brimming with suppressed laughter.
“It is a shame” Ilei lamented “that I value a low profile”
Again, the man said nothing but his eyes gave away his mirth
“I do not know what you find so amusing” Ilei said
“Do you not?” The man said “then that is a shame. You reminded me of someone I was just, never mind” the man breathed in the pause “I need you to go to Costesti for an errand”
“It must be a highly wanted position, as you had to come to me”
“You judge how you want it to be judged. I will not indulge you”
“That is” Ilei said smiling “probably wise. Please sit. Wine?”
“Thank you” he accepted the cup from Ilei.
“What did you wish me to do in Costesti? It is not often that someone like you takes the time to visit a woman like me”
A smile flirted in the corner of his mouth but he controlled it “firstly, you mentioned a marriage of a girl of thirteen. Rescue her from marriage with a Roman and tarnish the Roman’s situation in Costesti”
“It will not be easy to do what you say. Was there something else?”
“Secondly I wish you to find a man in Costesti. I have heard that you are familiar with Costesti so that will not be hard for you. His name is Cicero Gallus. He is a terrific archer and we are in need of him here.”
Ilei sat back in her seat “he will not come easily?”
“He was born from a Roman womb”
“That” Ilei replied “is most unfortunate”
“I ask you to not judge him as you get him to me. Say nothing of your sympathies. Say only that I need him. He owes me, and that shall bring him. Make haste. But that is not all. Liber Avitus, he is a Roman who wishes to pull all his forces out of Dacia. Meet him at the Grand Court and give him what he wants”
Ilei blinked “yes sir. I will do this. Anything for the revolution”
Name: Katarina Dragulescu

Faction: Vampyre

Age: looks in her early 20s late teens

Spirit's Age: unknown, somewhere between 1000 and 1500

Appearance: The vamp's skin still retains life in its buttermilk tones. Her legs are long and lean, her arms are thin with a sheer echo of muscle across her biceps and deltoids. She is a tall temptress standing at about 5'9 or 10. Katerina’s hair is long and retains a lot of volume, falling elegantly to her knees in raven curls and smoky quartz highlights and a slight blonde streak in her bangs, her plight from a former fight. Her figure is thin, curvy, and voluptuous to say the least. Her remaining features, seductive and demonic, frame her satin jaw and strong cheekbones, thin pouted rouged lips where her long fangs perch a little over her lower lip, and long smoky lashes with blonde tips outline her strong, enigmatic eyes reminiscent of a lavender jade crystal. Her nails are sharp razors: their use is quite obvious. She covers her body in a long black hooded cloak beneath it she hides her infamous sword attached to a double baldric that hangs on her hips. She walks with a graceful and sophisticated gait and eminent of hellish dominance. Human men deem her a demonic angel.

Personality: Her obvious and outward characteristics are smart, intellectual, ambitious, seductive, and of course, the inbred lust for human blood, destruction, conquest. She is a cold-hearted vixen ruthless in her actions and her many ways of death and destruction. Her kiss is mere poison and her touch is like fire and acid. She fights with rage and adept perception and uses what she can to get what she can however she can; and she always gets what she wants. She grew up as one of the closest women to Lucifer, who he trusts to get the job done in the fastest or destructive way possible. Even though she isn’t that strong as yet, he knows what she is capable of. She is honorable but holds no reliability and trustworthiness to anyone save a few. But her power is one that they know they should fear. In her eyes, chaos is the only thing that should reign and the human race sucked dry.

Background: In hell, she was a demon rogue. No rule and no one could hold her. Known about as the Untamed, she speaks frequently with the Demon Lord and is held in high favour with him and a few of his close hordes, even though the others stare at her with a suspicious gaze. But she is no servant to the devil. In Transylvania, her worth has yet to be gauged.

Fighting style: If her trusty and effective instincts and reflexes give out in hand to hand combat, she always turns back to classic steel. A master wielder of the double blade sword, she only uses it to defeat demons. As for human destruction, the piercing of her fangs and her strike is enough to take down the strongest man.
Elaena tucked another lock of curly dark strawberry blonde hair that fell into her face as she pretended to read scripts of old. As serene as her pretty face looked in the afternoon sunlight, Elaena wasn't doing what her mother had asked of her. Her keen ears were listening to the conversation commensing inside the house.
The door was opened and closed abruptly, shocking Elaena back to reality. She quickly began scanning the pages. When nobody came outside to scold her, she put away the ancient pages of Dacian History, and lay back on the ground. She tried to remember the last time they had a visitor that didn't end in "aggressive negotiations" or some sort of an argument. It didn't take long. It was a quiet man, with dark blue eyes and a beard that looked strange on such a young face. She couldn't remember his name, but she did remember very distinctly his appearance.
He had glanced her way, and smiled at her. "Not because of beauty or wit," she thought, reminding herself, "but because I'm to be the next ruler."
She wondered if Ilei knew him. They had always gotten along, and Ilei knew plenty of people and had thousands of connections. She sighed. Ilei also cared about her becoming ruler. Of course, Ilei had relentlessly drilled into her head that monarchy was a much better idea, and modernizing Dacia will not help it in anyway.
She closed her eyes. Thinking about a future position was pointless during the limited free time she had. She was always being included in war spiel that went straight over her head, and really hated talking about. Blood, gore, and death were not her favorite subjects, but of late she had to be exposed to them more often than almost any other woman in all of Capalna.
Elaena opened her eyes. This wasn't helping at all. She sat up, and laughed at the thought of how she must look. Strawberry-blonde colored hair falling out of a ridiculous braid, leaves stuck wherever, and a white gown that she probably shouldn't have been wearing outside. At least it covered her bare, and now dirty, feet. Elaena pulled her braid out and shook her head until all the leaves had gone flying and soft curls fell around her face and down her back. Suddenly, a pair of boots were not far in front of her. She gasped and looked up at the visitor.
It was the same man! He smiled slightly and nodded at her quickly, then continued towards the door of their house.
"Wait!" she called, getting up quickly and hurrying over. "What's your name?"
"Av." he replied in a low, gruff voice.
She smiled slightly. "I'm Elaena."
A smile quirked the sides of his mouth. "I know."
That was around the time Elaena felt like hitting herself. Of course he knew who she was!
Moments later, Illian Turminne was at the door, looking regal and majestic as always. "Av?" she breathed, "What are you doing in Capalna? I thought you were stationed in Blidaru!"
Timoh was at the door moments later. "Well, don't just stand there. What's going on? Come in, come in, we've had a plethera of interesting visitors here today. Come join the number, and have some sherbet." he ushered the man inside. "Oh, and Elaena, we'll need you here in a few minutes also."
Illian waited until both of them were seated comfortably. Then she hissed, "You look ridiculous! Come with me, we'll find something appropriate." With that, Elaena had to let herself be pulled past the two men, with one last glance toward the man with the beard that betrayed his face.
--------------------------------------------------
Daria licked her blood red lips as she satisfied yet another customer, and then sated her own hunger. "Stupid humans..." she purred, and stood. Her hair was a mess from the heavyset man's grabbing, and her clothing was elsewhere. She fingercombed it and smiled pleasantly, still naked, when Goldemoth arrived. She let him look her up and down before really acknowledging him.
"Yes?" she asked, walking over to him.
"I have a favor to ask of you." Goldemoth cut straight to the chase. Daria rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through his hair, playing with the short horns poking through his hair.
"Oh, and what favor is it?" she licked a still warm lip from blood.
"I need you to take care of Jagar." he said shortly. "And, for your own pleasure I'm sure, Dirag and Mortur."
She smiled seductively. "You know I don't just do favors."
He nodded, and the smallest coloring graced his cheeks. "I know you don't. What would you want for it?"
"Oh, look, you're blushing. You're becoming more human each time I see you." she winked at him, and offered him a seat that wasn't splattered with semen or blood. Then she began dressing, pulling clothes on as she saw fit, making her body more appealing to both demon and human eye.
"You and I both know that that isn't true." Goldemoth protested as he sat down. He surveyed the room, then commented, "Looks like you two had fun."
Daria smirked at him as she laced up the front of her dress tightly, to present an ample bosom. "I am not risking pregnancy with that man's child." she responded, looking at the dead man distastefully. "Now, tell me, how would I go about 'taking care of him'? Then, I'll name my price. But, I'll remind you know, I've been wanting you for some time now, and I've had yet to get anything. So, beware when you ask favors. Now continue."
Marcus

The centurion wandered the library in New Sarmizegetusa, not knowing which books to look for. Marcus had flipped through a number of newer and older works on the nature and meanings of dreams, but with no answers for his questions. He'd even looked at a number of ancient texts that had some references to rituals involving the burning of crowds of people, but the books were morbid and had no answers. Marcus didn't know where else to look.

It so happened that the librarian saw his wandering pointlessly. The elderly man hadn't seen very many Romans in the library before, and though he had no love for them, he felt compelled to help the centurion. "Can I help you with anything, good centurion?" he asked.

"Perhaps," Marcus replied. "I'm looking for an explanation of a dream I had, and for some reason I thought that this library would have some answers."

"You've looked through some books already?" the librarian queried rhetorically.

"A few," Marcus said. "Some on dreams, and a handful on burning rituals as well."

"You may as well recite your dream, so that I can help you better."

"Yes, that makes sense," Marcus said, and they both sat down on some nearby chairs. "The dream had three parts, and each was a scenario set in this very city. I'm not sure exactly where, but I recognized it. The first was the most peculiar. There was blood and fire everywhere, and these hideous beasts -- flaming, demon-like creatures with what appeared to be corpses lashed to their bodies -- where roaming about, wreaking havoc.

"The second scenario was quite unsettling. A number of Dacian soldiers were throwing dead Romans into piles and lighting them on fire. The streets were lined with blood. That portion of the dream ended with the sound of an explosion, it seemed out of place. And, in the last, the city was simply empty. That's about it."

The librarian pondered Marcus' dream for a moment before speaking. "It seems that the three parts of your dream are the three different outcomes to a choice you'll have to make, or perhaps a choice someone else has to make. I believe that the beasts in the first scenario are demons hidden behind the dead, in some sense. Perhaps vampires, though none of those have been seen around here in years.

"The second part of your dream is obviously an outcome in which the Dacians successfully destroy the remaining Romans here in New Sarmizegetusa, though the explosion perplexes me as well. Perhaps the last situation could be the result of the remaining Romans leaving Dacia, which is what leads me to believe it is in fact your choice that is to be made, but I'm not sure. Does this make sense to you?"

"Not very much, but my dream makes more sense now than it did several minutes ago. I thank you for your time." Marcus got up and left the library without another word, returning to his room to ponder until noon.

**

Av Gredoran

"I'm afraid I can't stay long," Av said after Elaena had left. "I'm on my way from Blidaru to meet a couple friends in New Sarmizegetusa."

"Oh, that's no problem," Timoh replied with a smile. "Though I do insist you try some of this wine; it's from Macedonia, they had a wonderful season this year."

"I heard, and I suppose a taste couldn't hurt," Av said with a hint of a frown as Timoh poured him a full glass. He took a sip; it was good, but Av wouldn't have his reflexes slowed by alcohol. "That's very good, er, I didn't catch your name."

"Ah, of course, I'm Timoh," came the reply. "Yours was Av, I do believe?"

"Yes, that's correct. Now, I must be going, but could you give this note to your daughter for me? I'd give it to her myself, but I'm in a bit of a hurry." The note briefly stated that the Romans would soon be ousted and Elaena would need to be ready to govern Dacia as Queen.

"I'm sure Elaena will want to get back to you on this," Timoh said, though he hadn't even looked at the note. "Will you be returning to Capalna?"

"I hope so, but if I wouldn't be able to estimate a time. It could be tomorrow or years from now."

"Well, whenever you do return, be sure to come back here."

"Of course, thank you," Av said, and left the building. Within a few minutes he was well on his way to his destination.

**

Goldemoth

Goldemoth raised an eyebrow after Daria's last statement. He'd known her desires for some time, but she'd never been that open. He considered her for a moment before replying. "I really don't care how you remove Jagar. If you need a suggestion, you can seduce him and kill him after you've been adequately satisfied, I suppose. If you wish, you could try killing him in his sleep. Perhaps you could even duel him to the death if you feel you can fight that well...

"Like I said, I don't care how you kill him. But make sure you tell me when you're going to do it and if you're going to kill his goons as well. If not, I'll take care of them when you're taking care of Jagar. And afterwards, when they're all dead, I'll give you ten minutes."

"I thought I was naming the price," Daria frowned.

"Fine then, what's your price?" Goldemoth looked at her suspiciously.

"Dusk till dawn."

Goldemoth chuckled. "I'll have to find someone else," he said, rising to his feet.

"Now, now," Daria protested, putting her hand on Goldemoth's arm. "I'm sure we can work something out."

"I don't even know why you're asking for anything in return. You'll get enough pleasure from killing Jagar in the first place."

"Regardless, I want you. I'll be satisfied with just two hours."

"I'm sure you'd be satisfied after ten minutes," Goldemoth winked. "But I'll give you twenty."

"An hour."

"No."

"I'll make you a deal."

"We're already making a deal."

"Another one."

"Fine," Goldemoth sighed. "What is it?"

"You can trust that I'll take care of Jagar adequately, and give me your twenty minutes right now, or you can wait till he's dead and then give me an hour." Daria bit her lip in anticipation.

"Why would I trust you?"

"Forty minutes."

Goldemoth looked at her quizzically for a few seconds, and then began to carefully consider her offer. "I'll be counting the seconds in my head," he said, as he began to remove his clothing. "And this better be worth it."

"I guarantee it," Daria grinned in reply.

Twenty minutes later, Goldemoth left Daria's abode. He was a bit dizzy, but still quite sure that the bargain would turn profitable. Within a week or so, he would have a massive undead army backing him and half of Dacia in his grasp. He was sure of it, and if he needed Daria for any more tasks, he knew the price.
London

London had arranged a meeting with Katarina Dragulescu. Katarina was very intelligent when it came to her knowledge of Lucifer's wishes. And right now, London was in the dark. She had questions and she wanted answers.

She sat in a large armchair of a small room at a cheap Inn. In front of her sat a small wooden coffee table, with anotherchair identical to that of hers across from her. In her hand she held a glass of deep red liquid, and another one sat waiting on the table. The door to the room creaked open unannounced, and a tall, slim figure hidden in a black cloak stepped
into the room, closing the door behind it.

"Nice to see you, Katarina." London saidm gesturing to the chair across from her. Katarina took the hood of her cloak downand made herself comfortable, automatically taking the class of red liquid on the table in front of her.

"Fresh?" was all she said.

"Nearly." London replied, watching Katarina take a sip from her glass.

"So, what is this business all about?" Katarina asked after a moment of silence.

"I have questions." London replied.

"And?"

"And I want them answered. You, Katarina, seemed like the perfect subject for answering my questions. After all, you are still close with Lucifer, are you not?"

"I am." Katarina said, eyeing London.

"What are his plans? I was pathetic nothingness in Hell, and even though I gain more and more power here on earth, Lucifer still chooses to keep me in the dark. I am getting angry, not to mention restless. And I know he has an idea up in that blood-drugged mind of his." London said, her voice monotone and not giving away any emotion.

"And you wish me to tell you this?" Katarina asked, a small smile creeping up to her lips.

"So you're more intelligent in basic logic then I thought." London commented. Katarina gave a small laugh.

"Lucifer has a plan, you are correct. Actually, he has more then one plan. I believe you should be told, of course. However..."

"However?" London asked. Katarina took her sweet time and sipped some more from her glass. London sat hers down on the table and waited, appearing to be patient.

"How much do you want to know?" Katarina finally asked.

"Everything." London said simply.

"Well, where should I start..."
A Non-Existent User
Illei slipped her cool hands over Elaenas’ eyes. In response, Elaena said her friends name as if it was some ‘open sesame’ that one had grown tired of saying. Illei released her “what?” Elaena shrugged “I’m not in the mood” she said
“Tush” Illei said “not in the mood for your own friend?”
“Don’t ‘tush’ me. I’m not a child!”
“I should hope not. You are a Queen”
“Will be” Elaena averred “will be”
Illei shrugged “semantics”
Elaena felt a smile curve in the corner of her mouth and moved her head to avoid Illei seeing it. Seeing this, Illei lifted her eyebrow “I saw that,” she wrapped the cloak tighter around the youngers’ shoulders “what’s got your temper up?”
“Oh! Everything!” Elaena said, more fervently than she felt.
“Oh. I’m sorry everything is not to your liking. Perhaps you should throw yourself down a well, but, then you would scold the water for wetting you. Perhaps you should grow wings and fly away, oh, but then you would scold them for not taking you high enough-“
“- or I could your tongue and talk my way into prison where I would scold the prisoners for not revolting against their oppressors and teach them how to make bombs with rats and broth…”
“My my. Has someone said something invidious?”
“Invidious” Elaena said “no. It’s this list you sent me”
“But it is interesting, no?”
Elaena shook her head and raised the paper for Illei to see “speak Frankish? Address the Queen of Jerusalem as a sister? I don’t know if I can do these things!”
“Are you having a moment of self pity?”
“Self worth, actually. And realistically” Elaena replied “spit in the face of the Emperor slash enforcer of Rome? When? Before I am disembowelled or after I am hung as an enemy to Rome?”
“Before, it will be a honourable death” Illei said, lightly
“Illei! I am not you! I am me. Elaena”
“And I never doubted it. The list was a bit of fun. I did not mean to threaten your naïvety. And I promised long ago to the only man I have ever loved, other than my Turk, that I would not meld you into a soldier battling for the revolution” Illei motioned to the ever present Turk behind a nearby flowering tree for their privacy. And exercising his dislike of absolute wealth.
“You father?” Elaena asked, demurely.
Illei tilted her head “of course. Is that what has unnerved you? A man?”
Elaena looked down “yes. But not as you think…Not…in that way. Not that he wasn’t handsome”
“Go on”
“I know you think me a fool. For thinking about men…You will think I’m weak spirited. Just the girl I don’t want to be”
Illei sighed “if you try to live up to my standards. Or the standards you think I have. You will have a very unhappy life. So who was this man? You think about, not, in that way?”
Elaena blushed “his name was Av” she said
“Av?” Illei replied, jolted by mirth but stifled it “doesn’t that role off the tongue”
“It’s just that he smiled at me”
I bet he did Illei thought you are the pretty face of wealth
“Do you know him?”
“Ah. No” Illei lied “the one of the few I don’t know”
Elaena continued “he just smiled at me because I’ll be the next ruler”
“Mayhaps”
Elaena sighed
“Did you want me to tell you how beautiful you are then?”
“No” Elaena said “but it means that men, that will be all they will see. Rulership and beauty. And they both run out”
“That’s why you are smart. And that’s why you spin and cook gruesomely - so you will never become someone's keeper”
Elaena smiled “my cooking is not gruesome, yet. But what if I didn’t want to be ruler. What would you do if I just gave it all up?”
“Why, nothing” Illei said “but I hope you do know, exactly, what you will be giving up”
Elaena smiled fleetingly “I’d like us to swap. Now. You’d be happy being impressive and I’ll be happy being…”
“Unimpressive?” Illei finished for her “if we were to swap, you would go to Costesti to fraternise with a Roman and a Roman sympathiser. I think that perhaps you would be more politic than I in your dealings with them”
“True” Elaena said “but I can always give you pointers. Is that why you came?”
“No” Illei flashed a rare smile “I was wondering if you want to elope. In the non-marital sense”
“To Costesti?”
“Of course. Don’t give me an answer yet. But if you do I'll be staying in the Khalifahs’ quarters in the poor area of Costesti as his guest for three days from today. I’ll be staying in the Bahram tents; I’ll meet you just before you enter them. You will need to wear a veil”
“Khalifah? Are you staying with the Turks?”
“Where else do you get men wielding scimitars for your own security?”
Elaena nodded “but be careful”
“I am on friendly terms with Khalifah”
“Yes, you saved his son Amir from the Roman Prison and his favourite daughter from a Roman man. It was them who gifted you your Turk. You’re a hero. I take back unimpressive”
“Good you remembered” Illei replied tartly, choosing not to hear the sarcasm in Elaena’s voice. “The Khalifah calls me Boushra” Illei gave another smile “it means good news”
“Ahh. And that you are not” Elaena said, kissing Illei on the cheek “I know you are leaving. But can I ask you question?”
“You only need to ask”
“If, say, a man was to give you a letter. Would you open it?”
Illei lifted her eyebrow. Elaena scowled “stop doing that, you look so patronising” she put a finger on Illei’s eyebrow pulling it down
“Aw!” Illei yelped, scrunching her eyes “why are you attacking me?”
Elaena laughed “tell me, before I throw you out?”
“Well was it given straight to you from his hand in a secret meeting after making passionate butterfly eyes at each other?”
“No! Nothing like that”
“You’ll never know if you never open it. I know you’ll want to savour it forever, but you’ll only be savouring an envelope, it is the letter you really want. You, romantic you”
Elaena frowned, but was, nevertheless pleased with the answer “I’ll have to learn to not be so politic” she frowned as Illei laughed “ohh, go. I can’t watch you for any longer!”
“Yes, milady” Illei bowed deep “don’t forget to get his address so you can send him love tokens. Or carpets so you can send yourself, like Cleopatra”
Elaena, with infinite grace and poise, kicked Illei.
Illei laughed and ran to her Turk, and left before they were spotted.

Grand Court in Costesti

Liber Avitus saw the person he was supposed to meet. He thought the revolutionary would send a man, but then again, he was a revolutionary and sending a woman was a slight at Roman culture. Her beautiful dark eyes enveloped his person. She moved with a casual grace that bespoke years of training and exercise. Liber stood up, he was in his uniform. And it had obviously left the women in no doubt of whom he was. She strode towards the middle of the Grand court and addressed him icily “Roman?”
“Woman?” Liber Avitus countered.
She remained unmoved by his slur “you want to pull your forces out of Dacia?”
He had no difficulty understanding the women’s Latin, spiced, thought it was with a crude Dacian dialect.
“Yes. It seems Dacia will remain backward in its progression to-“
“-to what?” The woman didn’t even blush for his slight against her country “to women treated as cattle? To your cult religions? To the bastardisation of any morals we might have had before you came?”
Liber Avitus chuckled “you sound like a principal tribeswoman”
“Because they too were wronged”
“How have the Romans wronged you?” Liber had expected her to stiffen, and she obliged him but he didn’t expect a satisfactory answer. Liber Avitus clenched his fists at her story “t’is but natural for a Roman to want to take you and your women-kind. In Rome, women to not parade the streets half-naked inviting insult”
“This is our land. We parade the streets as we like”
Liber crossed his arms, and sighed “I do not want my men conquering Dacia Aurelia any longer. Rome needs fortification. I need help, preferably statistics, to convince Caesar that we do not need Dacia and for this I need an underground revolutionary. Which I guess is you”
“I will not be your servant or one of your wenches”
“You must overrate your charms. Although feisty is good – I’m too old to go to bed with a vixen. There is only so much bite I can take”
The woman narrowed her eyes “you think I would allow you Roman pigs to just leave Dacia without any retribution for the damage you have caused”
“Why not? It would be achieving your goal”
“My goal is revolution and to get retribution”
“God woman! You sound like an ignorant Roman”
The woman slapped him. Liber let out a small hiss and tried to stop her attack on him “can’t you wait to flee back to your dried-up Roman women? To the concubines you took from the Gaul’s? To go and ruin another woman’s life!” She shouted as she hit him.

They were causing a disturbance in the street. Liber took note of the people looking curiously at the woman hitting a Primus Pilus, and the Roman privates stepping out of a brothel readying their swords to, at Liber’s command, slice her neck. Liber placed his arms over the woman’s, pinning them to the sides of her body. She quaked with anger. This woman felt small and willowy but strong “how old are you anyway? Sixteen?” Liber said
“Twenty!”
“You’re nearly half my age”
“You’re nearly twice mine” she countered, readying her thoughts to inflict another onslaught of her tongue
“Shush woman. People are watching”
The woman raised her knee warning but hit him, with her hand, in his most tender part. It wasn’t strong enough for him to let go of her, yet it still hurt. He slammed her hard against his chest, keeping the pressure she was finding so abhorrent between their two upper bodies. Liber’s eyes darted to more private circumstances they could have a conversation. He wheeled her around, one hand placed firmly around her waist and the other threateningly circling her neck. She reached for her dagger and managed to slice his hand before he knocked it away “hell Woman! See those Romans ahead. One word from me and they’ll do to you whatever Roman pigs do”
She swore with considerable heat but continued walking where he was half pushing half guiding her to.
She stepped cleanly over the doorstep; she did not stumble at all. Liber groaned. But continued to push her up the stairs, through the midst of squealing naked wenches. Liber opened a room, found it was conveniently empty and pushed her inside it.
“Your tricks will not work on me” Liber growled, in a snarl that was all seething resentment. The woman in her traditional non-Roman dress had the audacity to look confused.
He looked at her mane of red hair, no wonder the poachers wanted it; there was a lot of women in Rome that would pay ridiculous amounts of their husband’s money to have henna-hair like this one. It was wasted on a Dacian woman, who was so obviously unaware of its glory.
He looked down to her face; her petulant expression and her immodest clothing made him sterner and fiercer in his view of her “you look like Mary Magdalena”
“Who is she?”
“She was a whore” Liber replied “who was reformed by Jesus Christ”
“I bet she wasn’t a whore. All men think women are whores”
“Not Jesus Christ”
“Then he was man gifted with true sight by a god”
“Just so” Liber replied “why do you look at me as if I am going to ravish you? I have plainly said that you have nothing to tempt me with”
“You speak like I am trying to induce you into something I consider far worse than death. Did you walk me into a brothel to save your face in those Roman officers? Or is this a glimpse of a habit you find hard to break?”
Liber bared a set of perfect white teeth “I take no pleasure in wenching anymore”
“Ahh? A Greek then?”
“I am Roman” Liber replied, affronted “and I am old. The things that delighted me when I was younger, are no longer a past time”
“How lightly you speak of wenching! How many bastard sons have you sired? How many bastards of Rome live in the belly and bosom of Dacian women?”
“It is their choice”
“No. Women are what ever Roman society dictates them to be when Romans are around”
“Really?” Liber said, finding the women to be maddeningly acute “I doubt if you are”
The woman shut her mouth
“Now we have that out of our systems. Would you like to hear my proposal?” The woman didn’t reply. So he continued “I need proof. Numbers, theories, visions, fortune tellers, curses; demons…everything Dacia can muster of which I can send to Caesar eventually overwhelming him into leaving Dacia alone. And I will need the number of forces at your disposal”
“What you propose must be sedition”
“Yes. The consequences are severe. I’m prepared to take them for Rome”
“You might use the numbers to counter the revolution”
“I’d hope you would lie about the numbers”
“I won’t take death for Rome”
“For Dacia you will, no?”
“Yes” the woman said casually.
“Then it seems we have an agreement”
The woman raised her eyebrow “this sounds like a one-sided agreement to me. I would like you to do something’s for me”
“Ahh” Liber replied, he had got so caught up he forgot about the one essential element, now he had to do her bidding. He tried an escape “I am not your servant”
“Then there is no deal”
“Fine” Liber said tightly “what do you want?”
“Firstly, absolve the marriage between the Centurion and the girl of thirteen that has been advertised around these streets. When you have done this, come to the bazaar in Blidaru a five days from now. It is in the west quarter, I will find you near the mule merchants. There you shall buy a mule for me. Also, my name is Illei Bendis Piatra, and I am deserving of treatment as a Lady. That means if you touch me again. I will stab you; despite your Roman herd”
Liber raised a thick eyebrow and forced a smile “Lady a mule”
He knew she had heard the slight against her, but said nothing and smiled. Her face was one of cruel satisfaction. He knew he had lost to a woman.


The next day, Illei was armoured in her best silk gown and was escorted by her redoubtable, bearded and braided Turk, who looked misplaced in the streets of Costesti but was nevertheless needed in foreign fortresses. Not a day went past when Illei did not receive a death threat.
Illei did not anticipate Cicero to expect her; neither did she expect it would be easy to find him. Dacien, her instructor, had left her a meagre description and an illustration. Cicero, of a vile Roman name, was easy to look at even in this illustration. He was of tall height; Cicero had grace and a certain distinction which was nothing to do with his posture. Yet his face was one of character, rather than handsomeness. Thick, arched brows were set above seraphic blue eyes, wide and intelligent; his nose was short and straight and his chin aggressive; but was he biddable? That was the deciding question.
Her Turk, Fidel, had looked decidedly disgusted at Illei for her recent encounter with the Roman. She had gone unprotected, was forced into a brothel and was at the mercy of the Romans. Fidel had said nothing, but his eyes did all the reprimanding but sometimes he even squeezed her, mercilessly, in the places which were already bruising. Especially her neck.
She looked a right outlaw; she hoped her clothing would counter it.
Fidel had chuckled at her circumspection; and had remarked that she was indeed no outlaw, but she looked like a wench. Illei had scowled, and hit him feebly.
Kutub had laughed and pushed her into her seat.
Illei often thought of him as a friend, not one who was her slave. Nevertheless Fidel shook his head at her thoughts “bodyguard” he said in his spiced tongue “me, bodyguard.” Fidel insisted that he come to meet the Roman sympathiser, Fidel shared her hate of the Romans, and Illei often thought that he might have been treated badly because he was a Turk but it made no difference to the Romans. He was someone they had conquered just they had her, to both their disgust.

Fidel had obviously spotted the man. He grabbed Illei’s hand and ploughed down the middle of the street, with her in tow. “Man” he pointed “your man” Illei followed his gaze to the man walking towards them, being swept away by the current of people “I pluck him?” Fidel asked. Illei looked up at the man who was smiling down at her “I pluck him like a pheasant?”
He was making fun of her languages’ double meanings. Illei joined him in her jest “maybe we should stuff him; he looks scrumptious, no?”
“Bad meat” Fidel said scowling. Illei opened her mouth in mock horror.
Fidel smiled again “wench again?”
Illei caught his meaning, her eyes slid to him, questioningly. But said nothing. Although she was brimming with roguish questions. They both watched as Cicero walked past them before Illei could utter an instruction
“Follow him, Boushra?”
Illei stepped out from underneath the canvas that they had been sheltering under “of course,” Cicero turned down a side street. Illei heard the tinkling of her neck ring which was making small noises as she walked, it would be enough to alert the wary. Illei sighed and took it off. Fidel took it from her “Wench collar or just wench? Great decision” he remarked rather crudely.
“Fidel” Illei tutted softly, they were entering an even less populated part of town, soon Cicero would know that they were following him “always thinking bad things and saying worse”
“Bad habits are most entertaining” Fidel whispered
“That” Illei said, looking around at the little shanty houses “remains to be seen”
Fidel grabbed her shoulder. Illei yelped, Fidel retracted his hand “Boushra. Footpads”
“Where?” Illei stopped herself stiffening, they continued talking and walking as casually as they could. “Behind. Bad meat gone”
Illei swore under her breath, Fidel cast his sly eyes towards her “I protect you. If no, me nurse you to well”
A smile twitched in the corner of Illei’s mouth “how far do we have until it is a dead end”
“Not far” A voice said from behind them “disarm your lady, Turk”
They turned around and were met by Cicero brandishing a sword
“Not touch my lady in her secret places” Fidel said, amusing only himself.
“That would be a waste of my dignity” Illei retorted, wary of Cicero “we have simply followed you here to spare your reputation”
“Then are you a lady of ill repute?” Cicero replied, absent-mindedly. Obviously his mind on something else.
“See” Fidel said, showing his teeth “Boushra is wench”
“Fidel!” Illei snapped
“Boushra?” Cicero said “you don’t look like a Turk”
“You don’t look Roman” Illei retorted, stupidly
Cicero waited for awhile, and then spoke “what are your real names?”
“I am Illei and this is Fidel” she said stoically
“Bodyguard” Fidel explained.
Cicero did not relax the sword “Illei? I have heard your name before”
“Be another Illei” Fidel said “if they not mention a handsome bodyguard”
Illei smiled, and Cicero tried hard not to.
“Must be a bad bodyguard. Looks as if someone has assaulted her”
“Yes. Boushra bad and leave me asleep while she sneak out and meet Roman who puts his hands on my lady. She sliced one of them. Good with Romans. Boushra is”
Illei realised Fidel was saying funny things to keep her temper down, so not to allow her to reek vengeance on a half roman for what all the Romans had done.
“I do not do vengeance deals on Romans, Lady”
“I am not asking you to kill your kinsman”
Cicero squinted his eyes “who has sent you?”
“Dacien. He said that you owe him something. He chooses now to redeem you”
“Does he?” Cicero said put the sword back in the sheath “Dacien is a revolutionary. The Illei I heard of is one too. Far different from a Roman fraterniser I see now”
“We are not so different” Illei replied heatedly “fraternising with the Roman was done for the same reason I am a revolutionary. So we remain Dacia not Dacia Aurelia!”
Fidel chuckled “she need man to cool her temper”
Illei shut her eyes, embarrassed. Then she opened them “don’t” she replied to Fidel. Fidel looked shocked “it true. Boushra nearly old maid”
Illei looked savagely towards Cicero, who was simmering with mirth “oh go on. Laugh at me” she said. Sitting down on a nearby ruined wall. She knew what Fidel was doing and was too embarrassed to let herself let him continue with his bantering of her character. But with her relatively extensive sang-froid, she pulled herself up to join him in his jest. However, she was not, by nature, humorous.
“Careful.” Illei said, “you will be an old maid when I am through with you”
“She snarl like dog that has no bite” Fidel said to Cicero.
Illei laughed at her own expense. Something she had not done since a child “I just let him think that it so” she explained to Cicero “but one day he will wake completely bald, everywhere!”
“Shocking” Fidel replied “shocking”
Illei lifted an eyebrow, coyly “very”
Cicero looked between them both “where are you stationed?”
“Blidaru. Dacien will meet me us in my parlour the five days from now”
“So soon” Cicero remarked
“Yes. He is in need of you” Illei said “we had planned for you to come with us now. To stay as my guest until we need to go back to Blidaru and hopefully we will be visited by my friend Elaena Rosalyn Turminne”
“The little Queen” Fidel said with a snarl “our little hope”
“Ignore the idiot” Illei said to Cicero “he gets strange when beautiful women with large amounts of money are in his presence. Something like a dog in heat”
A smile twitched in the corner of Cicero’s mouth
“Did you want a mule by any chance Cicero?” Illei said “A Primus Pilate happens to be buying one for me”
Fidel looked shocked “you take money from Roman?”
Illei shrugged “the money has all probably come from Dacia anyway” she said “Well? Cicero, are you with us?” Illei looked at him, earnestly. Waiting for his reply.

sorry its so long!!
The streets of New Sarmizegetusa were bustling with life, Dacians and Romans alike going about their meaningless lives. Meaningless as far as Katonah was concerned. The sight of these humans was sickening and she would be happy when their entire race was destroyed. Not to say she was ungrateful for the body she possessed. Certainly not, it did serve its purpose, but she would be happy when she no longer needed to brandish it.

She continued on her way in no real hurry to get anywhere and no specific destination in mind. Aimless wondering would get her where she needed to go, it always did. In the end, she found herself in the city marketplace, active, as one would expect.

That’s when she saw it; fire, hell’s very fire, burning away all the traces of human existence. The entire market was consumed in flames. Katonah could hear the screams of pains coming from all over. This was her only reality, the way thing were going to be.

She looked again, but the flames were gone. All the flaming glory disappeared. Now she was surrounded by human shrieking not in pain but chattering away with a joy and in some a solemnity that upset Katonah more.

What could be taking Goldemoth so long! Katonah thought in frustration. He had promised to soon command the army of the dead, but so far, not soon enough for Katonah’s liking. Then she remembered what he would have been dealing with. Jagar would in no doubt have provided strong opposition to the idea. Many years ago, when Katonah decided it was time for her to leave the fortress and begin the destruction, Jagar had been adamantly against it. He complained about it being to soon and about how it would disrupt any real chance the vampires had of taking over the land. Katonah knew better than to listen to his foolish babbling and left anyway, not returning very rarely since. In all those years, she doubted Jagar would have changed much.

Katonah now supposed she had to excuse Goldemoth for his slowness in the matter. However, no worries she quickly told herself. Goldemoth was a smart one, he would find ‘ways around Jagar’, or as Katonah thought about it more, she figured ‘through Jagar’ would be a more appropriate term.

She was well out the market by now, and happened upon a few Roman legionaires, young and eager to die. If they weren’t Katonah grinned to herself they were in the wrong profession. However, she was not interested in killing, not now anyway, She had already killed five others earlier today plus she had other things on her mind.

A visit to Old Sarmizegetusa was certainly in order. Of course, Katonah would not stay longer than needed. Only long enough to meet with Goldemoth and be fully informed of the progress of things thus far and maybe to make a surprise visit to someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fidelis rode quickly with letters he was to deliver to the First Legion, one to Centurion Marcus Asarius and secondly Primus Pilus Liber Avitus. The letter was from one of the Second Legion’s commanding officers and as Fidelis understood, the information in the letters was of the utmost importance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two amused Cicero very much. However, Illei certainly gave him much to think about. Cicero should have guess that Dacien would use his debt to him in such a manner. This considering Cicero had turned down great many offers of joining the revolution before. Dacien was clever, Cicero would give him that much and he would have been well aware Cicero was a man of honor.

Although he knew he would go with them, he did take some time to answer. Cicero let a cheery smile come across his face, “If that is the way Dacien expects me to repay him, I suppose I have no other choose. On the matter of leaving with you all, I think I better I should, if not my mind might change.”
Katarina smirked at the impatient vamp. She ran her tongue down the long curve of her fang; she wanted the see the frustrations grow on London’s face. Her request was simple, many lowly hordes of the Devil constantly desire the secrets of Lucifer and what he has in store, however, this girl was different from those others. She admired her selfish actions but moreover admired the serious tension etched across her face and in turn, Katarina got serious as well.

“What are you doing,” London asked in reply to Katarina’s removal of her coat.

“I don’t take the matters of the Dark Lord quite lightly, and upon willing to reveal his wishes of this and the netherworld and all the beings between I always desire to be freed of any constraints; in this case, my cloak.” She dropped the dark cloth unto the floor; it fell with a heavy thump. Obviously weighted, London thought.

After realizing all the time that had already passed and she had yet to be enlightened she asked, “Now I need to know.”

Katarina’s gold forehead adornments glinted in the flaring candlelight as she laughed at her impatience. “Satan sleeps knowing of your wishes; you are not alone in your requests. You want to know everything, because you dislike the fact of your poor standing with the Dark Lord and his hordes.” She sat silent for a minute and starred through the crimson of her glass. “Have you ever though Satan keeps you in the shadows for a reason?” She smiled; the question was only asked because she just wanted to hear what she thought.

“I used to think that…possible Satan was saving something for me, because I am certain he knows of my reputation in this world. But as I said, as my renown in this world grows he pushes me further away. And you, you hold no esteem in this land, and yet you are the closest thing to Satan than himself. Now it just seems, he cares nothing for me or wishes to incorporate me into his wishes.”

“So you want me to tell you ‘everything’ because you desire to silently enlist yourself in these plans.”

“Something like that.” London’s gaze was strong but quite distant. Katarina knew she wanted it bad but not that bad. “Tell me something, are you afraid to get in trouble with the Devil? Your stalling is quite crafty.”

Katarina laughed. “I am not afraid of what Satan would do to me if I informed you; he could probably care less. I am sure that when the time comes he would probably need your help here in this world because of the reckless and carelessness of his men down there.” Her eyebrows knotted and angered etched her delicate features. London could tell she hated them. She starred out to the moon falling in the sky, she had to leave; Satan was desiring to see her. Her voice became abrupt. “In regards to your request for ‘everything’, it cannot be fulfilled. However, I will tell you this much in a couple day hopefully not weeks, Satan’s Army of the Dead will soon rise at its zenith. Lucifer will be calling together all vampires, and I am certain you will be in that request. From there, he wishes to give further instruction on conquest of the world. You must be worthy to fight in his top ranks.” Her lavender eyes turned amethyst as she squinted. “It would only be fair to say your request for some sort of honoured ranking in the netherworld is a hard sentiment to grant, but a noble desire.” Katarina laughed as she said the last words, it was like honest but admirable sarcasm. The girl stood, London noticed she wasn’t wearing her sword. Was it a mere hoax, her infamous blade, and did she hide that supposed fact with her long weighted cloak.

“You are not telling me what I want to hear. What are you hiding? Lucifer’s army is under managerial problems, from what I hear. Is that true?”

“Yes.” Her tone was frank; her cloak now draped back over her curvy, taught frame.

“Yes, what? You’re hiding something or managerial issues.”

“A little of both you could presume. Listen okay, basically ‘everything’ is that Lucifer has an uprising planned, when I cannot disclose you will be informed at due time but all I can tell you is be ready for even three hours or every day of three decades from now. He will soon choose those worthy to lead his army into certain conquest.”

“And how will he do that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. I’ll leave you with this: you hold no worth here until you have gained some honour with the Dark Lord.” Katarina only said this the prepare her for the possibility that she wouldn’t get anywhere with Satan and to mentally give her some incentive. She knew she had not answered her question, how could she. Satan was going to open a new portal, a secret one, closed for a centuries. When it opens, a new line for his army will be formed. However, the portal must be opened from the other side, and the Dark Lord has yet to reach his full, potent power. He required the power of some of the strongest vampires. She thought about her ‘master’s’ wishes as she walked through the night shaded forest glen, she was headed to Old Sarmizegetusa to convene with Lucifer. Her tardiness would only make him realize he needed her assistance more.

*******
“Katarina,” A slimy, deep voice said. She could feel a grimy arm grab the seams of her cloak. “I see your back. Did you come to see me.” It was a lowly vampyre horde, well at least he was in her eyes. She struck him down with her left hand and glared down at him. “Whatever in this World would ever make you presume I would want to see you. Why Lucifer keeps you around Laeuris, is way past me.”

“I’ll have to say the same for you.” The slimy vampyre smirked on the black marble floor of Satan’s fortress. Katarina’s hands went through his soft, armourless chest almost penetrating his black soul. He died a few seconds later. Katarina approached the fountain a few metres away and washed the blood free of her hands. “Stupid, pathetic demon. Half-breed vampyres—disgusting and worthless.”

*******
“Where is that girl?” Lucifer asked, seated on what appeared to be a dais of skulls. He laughed lightly as one of his many women played with his ear.

“You can never trust that girl; I still do not see why you do?”

The devil’s face became serious, “Are you questioning me with those words?” He was silent; he couldn’t lie at the sake of losing his life. However before either could say anything, the slow sound of Katarina’s heels filled the hallway and the shadow of her cloaked silhouette filled the walls. The both men sat straight when her body began to form in the doorway.

“What the hell took you so long?” Lucifer asked, leaning on the right side of his skull throne.

“My business is my business.” Her lavender eyes surveyed the black and red toned room. Her lips pursed and the veins of her neck tensed, Lucifer knew she was playing hard to get.

“You were talking to that girl weren’t you.” Katarina’s face displayed a subtle yes in the form of ‘and so what’.

“I’m waiting.”

He smirked at her feigned impatience, “Your sword has been waiting no worries.” The sentry at his side quickly left and returned back with a long sword in a dark leather scabbard. But before the infamous blade could be unsheathed, the echo of footsteps filled the corridors. They were the heavier stride of a man and the light walk of a female vampyre. Goldemoth and Katonah stood in the doorway. It seemed that Lucifer had a meeting planned that night; something was stirring in that mind of his.
Elaena sighed and hit her head against the back of the roughly carved chair. This was so incredibly boring! She wanted romance, she wanted adventure! She wanted anything other than sitting in a crowded room with way too many older women, listening to them squawk like chickens over the most pointless things. Those Romans are idiots...(which was pointless to say, for most Dacians thought that anyway)...What an atrocious woman...this is exquisite sherbet!... Elaena rolled her eyes, and thought of the envelope burning a hole in her pocket. She had yet to open it. She thought of her friend, Ilei's suggestion she open it. Elaena's heartbeat had already quickened. She wondered, as she had since she'd received it, of its contents. She didn't even really know that man, what in God's name was he interested in?
She excused herself, much to her mother's dismay, and went upstairs. There, she quickly cut open the envelope with the dagger she hid under her mattress and read it silently. 'Of course', she thought, feeling letdown by the brevity and pointlessness of the letter. 'More politics.' Of course, Dacia had been thinking only of pushing Rome out, and putting their own monarch back onto the throne. And apparently, she was to be that monarch, instead of her Uncle. It was strange, but the Dacian people liked her better than her power-hungry Uncle. That was, in a way, not surprising.
"Should I write back?" she asked suddenly, aloud. It was a good question. But what would she write back? "Lovely letter, I completely agree, all Hail Dacia, let's smite those Roman Bastards! Oh, and by the way, I've been obsessing over you since you smiled at me and I'm wondering if perhaps you would do it again because you have a marvelous smile."
Elaena fell back onto her bed. "How utterly ridiculous! Yes, I'll bloody write that and never wonder again why I have so many damn suitors swarming around me constantly." she muttered, dropping the letter to the floor.
She jumped when she heard the strange and dark laughter coming from the dark corner of her room. Two eyes cut through the darkness and glittered menacingly.
"What an interesting letter..." a voice hissed. Elaena's eyes grew huge.
"W-Who are you?" she asked, trying to steady her voice and sound imposing. She tried to reach for her dagger, which she had strewn on the end of her bed.
"Don't reach for that." the voice barked. Elaena slid her eyes over toward the closed door, then to the closed and covered window. How had he gotten in?
"I asked you a question." she glared at the intruder, and stood, putting her hands at her hips. She didn't know it, but to the intruder, she looked like a goddess. Long, dark strawberry blonde curling down practically to her waist, white underdress shimmering and soft, complementing her curves, large navy blue sparking and flashing angrily, silver ring showing even more brilliantly. Her cheeks were flushed and her full pink lips in a pout. She was barefoot, but her overdress, nothing more than a deep blue cape covering her arms and flaring out near the ends, tied like a corset down the front of her white underdress, to her flat abdomen.
The intruder didn't respond. He just stepped out of the shadows, and Elaena gasped.
-------------------------------------------------
Daria felt amazing after her quick round with Goldemoth. He was amazing. And simply that. She lay back on a lounge, smiling deliciously. That was something she had held out for for a long time. Then she remembered Jagar. He was nothing impressive, and he wouldn't even be a challenge. He had practically thrown himself on her at their last meeting. Reluctantly, Daria had obliged to his whims and had been paid well. He was nowhere near as impressive as the hansome Goldemoth.
Standing up, Daria found a marvelous black silk dress that showed almost all of her cleavage, and tied her hair back stylishly. Might as well look good.
After sprucing up a bit more, she went to visit her future victim. He was still in his armour, and bent over some plot. His cronies stood around him, divulged completely in his rambling. Daria smirked. This would be easier than she originally had assumed. She sashayed up to him and draped her arms around his shoulders. He immediately turned around, and practically melted in front of her. Inwardly, Daria laughed triumphantly. He was tied around her little finger.
"We'll finish this later." he waved away his cronies, and they scurried off like good little rats. "It's been a while, my dear." he growled, peeling his armour off.
"That it has, my dear Jagar." she smiled seductively, and looked him up and down. Nothing incredibly gorgeous about him, but at least he wasn't human.
"Is there a reason for your sudden appearance?" he asked casually, bringing her to him. Daria's eyes flashed, and she practically burst out laughing. So he was suspicious! She smiled again, and trailed one long nail down his neck.
"I was just thinking that its been a long while since I've had a good a lay as you." she lied sweetly, pulling his last upper layer off. He stood in front of her, barechested.
That was all Jagar needed to pull her onto the table. Daria was impressed by his immense strength. He had become much stronger since their last meeting, and much more egotistical. His arrogant ways would quickly bring his downfall, and Daria knew exactly how to. Maybe, if she was lucky, Goldemoth would reward her with more than just an hour. She wanted him for as long as possible. Her thoughts brewed as Jagar made love to her. "I'm sure he would want much more than an hour after what he just experienced." she grinned, and slowly reached for the knife that she knew Jagar hid in his pants. They were not too far, strewn on the table haphazardly. Jagar was too caught up in his own pleasure to notice her reaching and grasping his own knife. Daria wrapped her arms around him, and with one quick thrust, shoved the knife through his heart. His eyes widened, and he slumped to the floor, going slack. Moments later, he was but ashes on the floor. Daria grinned. Simple, yet fun. And then, she redressed, in search of a quick bath and more men.
I know it's not just me, but almost all interest in this campfire has been lost. Thanks everyone for joining and posting, and I must say that it was fun in its peak, but this is as far as The Transylvanian War is gonna go.

The End!

© Copyright 2005 Jedd Vandross, she.said, xx-xx, A Light in the Darkness, mellie:), Dark Angel, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
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