At the end of a long, hazardous path into the mountains looming over Offtopic sits Nils mansion wherein a different kind of family gathering is taking place.
The howling winds outside are barely heard over a tune played by a group of bards within the dimly lit great hall. A series of long tables stretch from one end to the other, each seating a different vampiric clan. Charmed mortals lie upon the tables offering their blood willingly with glasses, and assorted items surrounding them.
At one end of the hall the floor rises a few steps to another table placed horizontally. Eight lords and ladies sit upon one side facing the chamber, an empty gothic throne of dark wood and violet cushioning between them. At the other end, two large wooden doors fly open with a rush of cold wind that snuffs out several wall sconces. Through a flurry of snow appears Nil.
"Hello, my darlings," she says as she glides into the chamber, the doors closing on their own behind her, "I see you've made yourselves at home."
All rise, some bow, a few fall to one knee, and one lord vanishes from his seat and rematerializes before her. He is a thin human noble, Lord Balen, known for wealth and subterfuge.
"My Queen!" he oozes what some might consider charm as he bows and takes her hand, planting a dry kiss upon her ring. "Long have we waited for your return... as you can see, we have done as instructed." He waves a hand dramatically around the room as he speaks.
Nil walks down the aisle, looking upon the gathered family with a smile colder than the air outside, "Please, go about your business!" She shouts to them before replying softer to Lord Balen, "Is this all?"
Lord Balen laughs, "Oh no, my Queen! Many lie in torpor beneath us in the catacombs, along with your wights and...other pets, awaiting your command. To keep even this many sated is difficult!"
Nil ignores him, "And where is my daughter?"
"Ah, she left to find her own path." He hesitates before continuing, "With respect, this gathering, this army you're building is dangerous... Our kind has survived all these millennia through subtlety. Keeping our numbers low and sparse... the mortals wi-" Nil raises her hand and the hall falls deathly silent. She clasps her hand and the lord collapses into a pile of ash. "Someone be a dear and sweep him up, he can still serve as an alchemical ingredient," her pursed lip smile a little larger.
The other lords and ladies now stand before the high table as Nil approaches. With a snap of her fingers, two undead servants appear from the shadows and take the table away. She glides past her guests to take her place upon the throne, one leg crossed over the other, and looks over her children.
"Well! I do not recognize all of you," she addresses the remaining seven, "though a few sires are sure to be replaced over the many years since last we gathered. Normally, this would be where I would ask for introductions...but who you are is irrelevant."
Her smile fades into a snarl as she continues, "Your clans are irrelevant. You were born of my blood and are [i]mine[/i]... and I need only one of you to be my second, to be my champion, to lead my armies." She leans forward, digging her black nails into the arms of her throne, "So kill eachother and reveal the one most worthy."
[spoiler]Started this last night, theres more but I wasn't able to finish it so here's this bit for now. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it.[/spoiler]
-
Edited by Unseelie Nil: 11/29/2019 3:07:30 AMThe fight lasted well into the night until only four remain. Three now circle eachother in the space before the throne while the fourth, a clever Tiefling man, sips whine from a bottle at a nearby table watching with the rest of the crowd. A Dwarven woman, shield up and a sword drawn from her side. An unarmed Orc, calm and observant. And a savage Human, a fang dug into his lip, face half burnt from a spell caster earlier, eyes full of madness. In one hand he holds a great axe, and in the other a hand axe. He faints toward the Orc, then to the Dwarf, testing their nerve, then he chuckles before swinging wildly at the Orc. The attacks make superficial cuts and raise sparks from the stone floor, but the Orc dodges the worst of it and lunges into an opening to attempt to disarm the madman, but is met with a mighty headbutt. The Dwarf charges forward, but the Human spins and knocks her back with a swing of his great axe. He pounds his bare chest with his other hand and shouts, "I will be victorious, or die a glorious death! Witness me, Blood Goddess!" He lunges at the Dwarf with quick overhead swings that slam into her shield. She loses ground as she braces her shield with both hands, each blow chips bits of metal and wood off of it. Then, the Orc comes from behind. He locks one leg with his, grabs the Humans left arm, and pushes up with the other. A sickening snap echoes through the hall as the Humans arm is broken and he drops the hand axe. He retaliates by tossing the Orc aside with his limp arm and drags his great axe forward leaving a large gash in the floor. In one motion, he swings up into the Dearfs shield, sending her flying back, and over his head bringing the axe down towards the Orc behind him. The Orc rolls just in time for the axe to smash four inches into the stone where he was, the Human lunges for the Orcs throat with his fangs, but the Dwarf slashes his leg and he falls to one knee. The Human looks up to Nil with a smile and closes his eyes as the Dwarf beheads him. She drops the remnants of her shield and raises her eyes to the Orcs, but he is looking behind her. The Tiefling pierces her chest from behind with his silver rapier. She looks down, surprised, and falls to ash. The Tiefling downs the bottle of wine, tosses it aside, and kicks the Dwarfs sword over to the Orc. He picks it up and tests the weight, then the Tiefling is upon him. He stabsup and slashes quickly, the Orc barely avoiding taking fatal strikes, but then he rolls back and lobs a ball of flame at the Orc. Surprised, the Orc rolls forward and slashes at the Tiefling, but he is gone. Suddenly he appears, then he appears again, and again. There are four of him surrounding the Orc. The circle him, moving in closer with their rapiers up. The Orc raises the sword above his head with both hands and waits for a sign. Then he hears it, a boot stepping on glass, he swings and strikes the Tieflings arm. He staggers back, surprised and frustrated, then lifts his hand to throw another ball of flame, but the Orc raises his hand aswell and the spell fizzles. The Tieflings eyes go wide as the sword separates his head from his body. Nil begins to softly clap. "Well that was all terribly dramatic, congratulations! What is your name, my champion?" The Orc steps forward and bows his head, "I am Gorlok of the Spurned Clan." "Nnnneat!" Gorlok could tell she was feigning interest, "Now then, to business! You shall command my armies whilst I finish the ritual. Lay siege to the city with everything at our disposal." Gorloks brow furrows as he considers her command, "When?" The doors open once more and a hulking figure fills the frame. They duck as they enter, their broad shoulders barely passing through the entry. A long grey cloak conceals whatever lies beneath. Nil stands, "Ah! Gorlok, this is an old associate of mine. May I introduce the Flesh Sculpter, Lord of Pain and Fourth Chair in the Court of Nowhere!" She bows and the behemoth awkwardly does the same. Nil turns to Gorlok once more, "Let's discuss the details of the plan in private!" [spoiler]I'm not entirely satisfied with this but if I dont just bite the bullet and post it, I'll obsess over every little detail and never get anything done. So here, just take the damned thing![/spoiler]