Planting Seeds I
Posted: Tue May 30, 2023 2:34 am
TIMESTAMP: Solace 2, Glade, 123
NOTES: -
NOTES: -
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As time passed and the two vampyres settled in further to their lives within the Gelerian Imperium and Hector into his mastery of vampirism, Vergil had begun to ruminate on the concept of an old ritual he’d learned during his time within the Cult of Mending. Those who’d mastered Vitalis could create a simulacrum of themselves, a fresh shell of flesh for their souls to occupy should they perish. Such a thing was grown by way of something called a Bloodseed– since both he and his beloved were masters of the magic, this, to him, was a worthy task that they ought to complete.
The main consideration insofar as doing this, however, was the logistics of it all. They needed a place to store their simulacrums, they needed sacrifices, so on. Vergil had pondered this for a bit and then he realized that the laboratory space he’d been granted by the Inquisition had ample room. The laboratory resembled something of a traditional morgue; it was a wide open space, clean metal surfaces, brightly lit when he wanted it to be. He’d moved some things around to allow for space enough for the ornate stone sarcophagi he’d acquired for them.
And now, since he had Traversion, collecting a few lost lambs to be sacrificed wouldn’t be that difficult. They didn’t have to be picky when it came to deciding who’d be used– they just needed bodies.
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Vergil had no intention of harming anyone within the Gelerian Imperium without purpose. Really, he preferred to do no harm unless he had to…but this was important to him. As such, he’d created a Railway that led onto a road not entirely too far away from Kalzasi. It was a trade route, though not an incredibly busy one; the plan was to grab a pair of travelers and abscond into the silence of the night.
Hector himself was fairly indifferent to doing this. He didn’t share the moral quandary of taking entirely innocent life that Vergil possessed– at this point, he almost looked at standard mortals as little more than fodder. Of course, he wasn’t entirely without empathy…it was just an easy thing for him to ignore, now.
The two of them lurked in shadow, in darkness, just off the road– creatures of the night as they were. They watched in silence as a few caravans rode by– many of which had far too many people. Vergil insisted that they at least try to avoid harming bystanders…and they’d have to kill anyone in addition to those that they were using as sacrifices; letting anyone leave to tell the tale was a risk that Vergil was unwilling to take.
However, it was not too long before a trio passed before their eyes. Looking to Hector, Vergil nodded, indicating for the boy to follow his lead. The unfortunate party was entirely devoid of magic– defenseless beyond mundane weapons, but that was nothing against the monsters that hid in these woods. It was unclear where they were going or what they were doing, but that didn’t matter, and frankly, Vergil didn’t want to know. It was easier to dehumanize them the less he knew.
Striding out of the woods, Vergil stood before them, tall and imposing with the waifish Hector not far behind.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said, shaking his head.
With those words, Hector took hold of the two men; average sized, standard fare for the smaller villages dotted across Kalzasi. Using Rhabdomancy, they were immediately his puppets. They were horrified; the travelers had no idea what was happening, who this was, they just knew that they couldn’t move. Fear and anxiety crept through their bodies like tidal waves…yet they could not act. Completely frozen, utterly helpless.
The woman with them could still move– but not for long. Vergil took hold of her skeleton using the same spell and walked her off of the road, into the forests. She yelped in pain as her skin began to split and ribbons of blood were torn from the wounds; Vergil Harvesting her, ripping the vitality from her flesh and drawing it into the Sanguniyte both he and Hector wore. Her companions looked on in terror as her body cracked and tore, as her skin turned gray. This whole time, she kept moving deeper into the woods, until finally, drained completely, she fell to the ground…mortified, her accompaniment could do absolutely nothing. Truly, there was not a thing they could do to stop this; Hector held their reins. Making use of Vicissitude, Vergil destroyed her body to such a degree that cause of death would be incredibly difficult to determine, and out here, the wilderness would take care of the remains rather quickly. To risk leaving a trace of vampirism behind was not something he was willing to do.
Hector had followed him off the road while the girl had met her untimely demise, drawing his puppets alongside him. The two men were struck with abject horror; clearly, their captors could, very easily, utterly destroy them. Thus that begged the question...what did these monsters have in store for those who yet drew breath?
Now beneath the cover of trees, not far off from the road yet sequestered by foliage and shrouded in darkness, Vergil created another Railway back to his laboratory in the Imperium, ushering Hector and their captives through and then snapping it shut once they’d all made the journey safely.
The remarkably stark change in setting was certainly jarring for the weary Kalzasern travelers– they’d gone from the dark of night to the overwhelming brightness of electric lights, something they’d never even seen before. Trapped as they were in their own bodies still, they were unable to express a thing to one another, only able to shift their eyes, witnessing one another’s desperate, terrified confusion.
“Will we work in tandem? Or…one at a time?” Hector inquired.
“More efficient to just do both at once; you remember the process, yes?” Vergil had given Hector thorough instructions prior…he’d be a bit disappointed if the young witch had somehow forgotten.
“Oh! …no, of course I remember.” The boy sounded chipper, and the way he spoke was incredibly casual given the context.
Vergil had made preparations prior to going out on their little excursion; set beside the two stone sarcophagi were two large metal vats meant to house the sludge that would become of their sacrifices’ bodies.
“One in each, just follow my lead,” he spoke softly, a gentleness in his voice belying his intent; he was always a bit soft speaking with Hector.
The elf nodded, weaving his aether to puppeteer their captives, compelling them both to sit and then lay down, each neatly within their own vat. He couldn’t imagine what they must be thinking– to be plucked off the road as they were, to watch a friend die, and now to be here…sat like this, no way of knowing what sorry fate awaited them. All against one’s will. Part of him wanted to feel guilty, but a much grander part of him found the horror in their eyes to be utterly delightful. This, however, he knew Vergil would not approve of; he expressed little as he followed the older man’s instructions.
“There is no need to be cruel, Hector– I know you…like to be creative, but for this…? Be quick, be efficient.” The look on Vergil’s face indicated he was not to be disobeyed.
Hector sighed, visibly disappointed, but he had no intent to cross the older witch.
As he spoke, he handed Hector a sleek looking bonesaw as well as as a scalpel, though one would note the strangeness of these implements. They followed the design of the highest end medical tools one would find in the Imperium, but the material was altogether eldritch, black as night, but when in direct light, reflected a deep red. Hector had made them– the strange metal he could transmute from blood was quite a bit more durable than standard steel, and because Hector could always manipulate the material at will, he could sharpen blades whenever needed as well as make small modifications as he worked if desired.
With each vampyr kneeling over their would-be Bloodseed, Vergil paused for a moment to again look at Hector, “...be fast.”
The main consideration insofar as doing this, however, was the logistics of it all. They needed a place to store their simulacrums, they needed sacrifices, so on. Vergil had pondered this for a bit and then he realized that the laboratory space he’d been granted by the Inquisition had ample room. The laboratory resembled something of a traditional morgue; it was a wide open space, clean metal surfaces, brightly lit when he wanted it to be. He’d moved some things around to allow for space enough for the ornate stone sarcophagi he’d acquired for them.
And now, since he had Traversion, collecting a few lost lambs to be sacrificed wouldn’t be that difficult. They didn’t have to be picky when it came to deciding who’d be used– they just needed bodies.
- - -
Vergil had no intention of harming anyone within the Gelerian Imperium without purpose. Really, he preferred to do no harm unless he had to…but this was important to him. As such, he’d created a Railway that led onto a road not entirely too far away from Kalzasi. It was a trade route, though not an incredibly busy one; the plan was to grab a pair of travelers and abscond into the silence of the night.
Hector himself was fairly indifferent to doing this. He didn’t share the moral quandary of taking entirely innocent life that Vergil possessed– at this point, he almost looked at standard mortals as little more than fodder. Of course, he wasn’t entirely without empathy…it was just an easy thing for him to ignore, now.
The two of them lurked in shadow, in darkness, just off the road– creatures of the night as they were. They watched in silence as a few caravans rode by– many of which had far too many people. Vergil insisted that they at least try to avoid harming bystanders…and they’d have to kill anyone in addition to those that they were using as sacrifices; letting anyone leave to tell the tale was a risk that Vergil was unwilling to take.
However, it was not too long before a trio passed before their eyes. Looking to Hector, Vergil nodded, indicating for the boy to follow his lead. The unfortunate party was entirely devoid of magic– defenseless beyond mundane weapons, but that was nothing against the monsters that hid in these woods. It was unclear where they were going or what they were doing, but that didn’t matter, and frankly, Vergil didn’t want to know. It was easier to dehumanize them the less he knew.
Striding out of the woods, Vergil stood before them, tall and imposing with the waifish Hector not far behind.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said, shaking his head.
With those words, Hector took hold of the two men; average sized, standard fare for the smaller villages dotted across Kalzasi. Using Rhabdomancy, they were immediately his puppets. They were horrified; the travelers had no idea what was happening, who this was, they just knew that they couldn’t move. Fear and anxiety crept through their bodies like tidal waves…yet they could not act. Completely frozen, utterly helpless.
The woman with them could still move– but not for long. Vergil took hold of her skeleton using the same spell and walked her off of the road, into the forests. She yelped in pain as her skin began to split and ribbons of blood were torn from the wounds; Vergil Harvesting her, ripping the vitality from her flesh and drawing it into the Sanguniyte both he and Hector wore. Her companions looked on in terror as her body cracked and tore, as her skin turned gray. This whole time, she kept moving deeper into the woods, until finally, drained completely, she fell to the ground…mortified, her accompaniment could do absolutely nothing. Truly, there was not a thing they could do to stop this; Hector held their reins. Making use of Vicissitude, Vergil destroyed her body to such a degree that cause of death would be incredibly difficult to determine, and out here, the wilderness would take care of the remains rather quickly. To risk leaving a trace of vampirism behind was not something he was willing to do.
Hector had followed him off the road while the girl had met her untimely demise, drawing his puppets alongside him. The two men were struck with abject horror; clearly, their captors could, very easily, utterly destroy them. Thus that begged the question...what did these monsters have in store for those who yet drew breath?
Now beneath the cover of trees, not far off from the road yet sequestered by foliage and shrouded in darkness, Vergil created another Railway back to his laboratory in the Imperium, ushering Hector and their captives through and then snapping it shut once they’d all made the journey safely.
The remarkably stark change in setting was certainly jarring for the weary Kalzasern travelers– they’d gone from the dark of night to the overwhelming brightness of electric lights, something they’d never even seen before. Trapped as they were in their own bodies still, they were unable to express a thing to one another, only able to shift their eyes, witnessing one another’s desperate, terrified confusion.
“Will we work in tandem? Or…one at a time?” Hector inquired.
“More efficient to just do both at once; you remember the process, yes?” Vergil had given Hector thorough instructions prior…he’d be a bit disappointed if the young witch had somehow forgotten.
“Oh! …no, of course I remember.” The boy sounded chipper, and the way he spoke was incredibly casual given the context.
Vergil had made preparations prior to going out on their little excursion; set beside the two stone sarcophagi were two large metal vats meant to house the sludge that would become of their sacrifices’ bodies.
“One in each, just follow my lead,” he spoke softly, a gentleness in his voice belying his intent; he was always a bit soft speaking with Hector.
The elf nodded, weaving his aether to puppeteer their captives, compelling them both to sit and then lay down, each neatly within their own vat. He couldn’t imagine what they must be thinking– to be plucked off the road as they were, to watch a friend die, and now to be here…sat like this, no way of knowing what sorry fate awaited them. All against one’s will. Part of him wanted to feel guilty, but a much grander part of him found the horror in their eyes to be utterly delightful. This, however, he knew Vergil would not approve of; he expressed little as he followed the older man’s instructions.
“There is no need to be cruel, Hector– I know you…like to be creative, but for this…? Be quick, be efficient.” The look on Vergil’s face indicated he was not to be disobeyed.
Hector sighed, visibly disappointed, but he had no intent to cross the older witch.
As he spoke, he handed Hector a sleek looking bonesaw as well as as a scalpel, though one would note the strangeness of these implements. They followed the design of the highest end medical tools one would find in the Imperium, but the material was altogether eldritch, black as night, but when in direct light, reflected a deep red. Hector had made them– the strange metal he could transmute from blood was quite a bit more durable than standard steel, and because Hector could always manipulate the material at will, he could sharpen blades whenever needed as well as make small modifications as he worked if desired.
With each vampyr kneeling over their would-be Bloodseed, Vergil paused for a moment to again look at Hector, “...be fast.”
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Aidolon Speech
'Thoughts'
"Kathalan Tongue/Speech"
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"