Keeper's Call (Brer92)

[Lion]

"Interesting concept, Remilius.  But how may this be useful to me?"  Dietrich Ambrose Chapel asked, his hand tucked under his chin with a confused and interested look gracing his smooth, wan face.  His cropped dark auburn hair was slicked back for the most part with the exception of a few rebellious strands that still hung in his face.  The corner of his mouth was crooked down in something of a grin yet beheld much of the confusion in missing the point of Remilius' demonstration.  But undoubtedly his electric blue eyes twinkled with the desire to learn.  He had always been a knowledgeable one, seeking to know more than he should.

He stood there in the midst of a library of sorts within the fortress of Beniste Castle, an old fortification in which he had made his home, garbed in rather simple clothing that consisted of a white linen shirt with sleeves rolled up, loose comfortable breeches whose ends were tucked into the black riding boots that he never rode with; he didn't own any horses.  As always with whatever he chose to wear, Dietrich made sure that he was neat and primed, with his shirt ends tucked away into his breeches and wearing no cravat.  He had the look of gentleman about him, though not quite completely for he was nothing of the sort.  He had been born a blacksmith's son and he pertained much of the resemblance of his former self.  With the exception of his pale skin, of course.  It was almost as if he had traded in his old tanned flesh for a new coat.

The dark elf that stood beside him, bearing a golden ball of light in his sea-green hand was Remilius, a necromancer who was Dietrich's valet and head of Beniste Castle, that is he took care of everything with the exception of Dietrich who was the castle master.  The dark elf spoke clearly and without condescension in his light voice, "This power, master, will allow you to travel much longer distances within the hours of night and still make it back to Beniste Castle before the strike of dawn.  Think of it something like a vampire's dark metamorphism power except it uses necromancy and the channel of the dead to transport you back instead of transforming into night.

"I thought that it would help you since Cronus seems to be making you do more and more endeavors than before.  And since you specialize in shape-shifting and your vampiric form of teleportation, then perhaps this power may prove useful."  Remilius had a way of putting things in the simplest of terms without making seem that he was superior in any way.

"You've a point.  Give it a few more tests before you give me the talisman to try it for myself.  I wouldn't want something to go wrong and I end up in some Connlaothian prison because of it."  Dietrich unfolded his arms and proceeded out the library door just in time to here Remilius' usual, "As you wish, master."

What he needed right now was an outing, a short walk through the Draconi Forest to settle matters in his mind and perhaps put him at ease for now.  In proceeding to do so, Dietrich headed through the many corridors of the castle, past his bedroom, down the several flights of stairs, past many of the undead janitorial servants that maintained the grounds.  It was not long before he made it through the gates and across the bridge and out into the cool, open, night air upon which the moon flashed down beautiful light.

He would not need protection, that he was sure.  He was a skilled and great vampire and was sure that he would be able to face anything he encountered in the forest and surely there would be nothing on the mountain pass; it had been abandoned long ago due to some 'unfortunate incident.'  Dietrich became absorbed in his thoughts as he strolled down the mountain path until a figure came before his sight.  It was a body it seemed, sprawled across the pass as if passed out from exhaustion.  Looking at it curiously, he approached with caution.

[Go ahead and come in at this point.  Go ahead and be the sprawled body if you like, might make an interesting plot point]

[Anonymous]

Draining a rabbit of its life was not the way Quillin thought she would be celebrating her twenty-third birthday.  But there she was, sitting in a particularly dark alley, completely oblivious to the day's holiday.  She had smelled the animal about three seconds before she had her teeth sunk into its small figure.  Quillin was loosing touch with the world around her, little by little.  She had blacked out several times in the last, week, was it?  She couldn't even keep track of time.  What she had done while she was not in touch with herself, she couldn't be sure.  But she was not still living, not off of rabbits and squirrels.  Quillin had heard, somewhere, before, that drinking the blood of innocent beings will lead you into outcast and death.  "What the hell, I'm already damned." She thought.  Quillin finally looked around her, when a twinkle of light caught her eye.  A little shaky and with short, quick actions, she stole away from her feast.  

Slowly Quillin walked around a couple of buildings and then she started in at a jog, until she couldn't recognize the streets she was passing.  Then she slowed down to a slow walk, and turned into the first alley she found.  Leaning against the dirty, grimy wall, she let her mind take her away.  For the first time she realized how dirty she was.  Her usually short blonde hair was long, ratted, and turning a nasty shade of dirty.  Her brilliant blue shirt had dirt, sweat, blood, and, not to mention, tear stains covering the pigment.  Her pants were muddy at the bottom, and stained at the waist.  She had abandoned her shoes weeks ago, and her feet, and the rest of her skin, was covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, like her clothing.  Quillin started to rub her hands on the nasty wall behind her, but her hands were so caked with filth, that small bits of mud just fell off of them.  With an obsessed passion to rid herself of this filth, Quillin set off to find water.  "That's all I need, just water."

Quillin had just walked around a building, her hair flying every which way, when she heard the noise. Her eyes darted to her right, and her head started feeling her heart beat, so that she couldn't think.  All she new was that that sound had been the beginning of this, this, life.  

About three months ago, the sound of crackling fire had sounded from behind her.  She turned around, swiveling on her high boots, her blonde hair swinging from side to side.  The smile that brightened her eyes faltered as she searched for the origin of the sound.  The presence of the noise was not what had scared her, but the absence of a reason.  Her eyes darted all around the street, and when she realized that there was nothing there, she noticed that she was breathing in short gasps, and her small chest was heaving up and down faster than normal.  Her head was buzzing, taking her breath away, and she backed up, away from the sound, intending to take off towards home in a sprint.  Instead, she backed up into something, a very large something.  

Quillin didn't take the time to look around for the sound, but started off at a sprint the moment she heard the noise.  She ran past buildings, past fields, past people, past trees, until she couldn't breath.  Quillin stopped and tried to catch her breath, but her head kept spinning, and her breath never slowed until she hit the ground.  The trees spun around her, and Quillin felt her heart beat shake her whole body. "Please, please let this be the end," was the last thought that ran through her mind as she blacked out.

[Sorry it's short, and choppy.  I tried adding detail, but i'm afraid it came out a little choppy because of it.  My writing style tends to confuse some people, so if you have any questions, just ask :) And also, if there is a comma in an odd place, it's probebly because i but them there for emphasis on a certain word or phrase.]

[Lion]

[Very good start.  Length was fine and so was the content.  To emphasize a word you can try italicizing it or separating it with -dashes-.  Commas are intended for brief pauses in a sentence, not so much for emphasis.  Nonetheless, I liked your post. :]]

It seemed the figure had been lying on the path for some time now.  Dietrich approached the fallen body cautiously, head low and eyes squinted.  As he neared it suddenly dawned on this deathly pale corpse was that of a woman.  Now came the question: how could he, Dietrich Ambrose Chapel, the bane of vampire Cronus and a marked miscreant chance upon this filthy corpse.  He could sense a faint rushing of blood within her and though she appeared cold and pale, he knew that she was somewhat 'alive.'

He moved to kneel beside her sprawled form and pressed his fingers to the flesh of her cheeks, attempting to feel for warmth of any kind.  There was none.  He felt that he flesh was cold indeed and not because she had been spending time outside for too long.  Then immediately he sensed that special essence that came with 'smelling' his own kind.  She was a vampire.  There was no alternate conclusion.

Instinctively he slid an arm underneath her torso back and another beneath her knees and proceeded to carry her back to the castle.  This strange find of his would best be assessed by someone who had specialty in the paranormal and that person was none other than Remilius.  Dietrich was careful not to jostle her too much, somehow perceiving that she had already been through much and in turn was careful not to get any of her dirt on his clothes.  

When he reached the castle gates and transported her to Remilius' library where he was still working on his spell.  "Master?" the dark elf said quizzically.  "Who is that?"

"I don't know.  I found her on the path to the castle,"  Dietrich answered as he set her limp body down on a table that was three times her length and variously covered in miscellaneous papers.  "I want you to take care of her, clean her then assess her for wounds of any kind then alert me should she awaken."  He gave these orders decisively then receded from the room for a short moment while Remilius carried out the tasks before him without question.  

The dark elf quickly prepared a warm bath in a large basic that presided in the corner of the library/laboratory of sorts then attempted to removed the female of her filthy clothes.  She seemed caked in dirt and Remilius was not prepared to clean her for the amount of grime she seemed to carry.  But he did his best and carefully scrubbed away the dirt on her dead skin then covered her with a large red robe to maintain his modesty.  To him she seemed only slightly heavier than she appeared for he was not used to transporting dead bodies by hand from one area to another.  It was now that he moved to search her for wound, he was unsure of what he would find.

[Anonymous]

When Quillin began to wake, she first noticed her breathing.  Soft full breaths, her chest rising and falling. Then, as if in an orchestra, her heart began to beat, and realized she was awake.  Her hands were slightly tucked under her thighs, and she was stretched out across what seemed like a long table.  Then Quillin felt ruff fabric against her skin. The palms of her hands were unusually soft, and they were still rough.  Her face seemed to glow, and the cool air that swept across it blew small, soft, blonde strands of hair across her closed eyelids.  A little smile started to dance across Quillin's lips, and all at once, pain seared across Quillin's back and her muscles all seized up.  Her back arched against the pain, and her face flinched before grimacing.  Like glass breaking, Quillin remembered that her life was still shattered, and heaven had not come to rescue her from a damned eternity.  Gasping for air against her muscles throbbing, Quillin tried not to let a small tear escape her eye.

          For a moment, one glorious moment, Quillin had felt alive.  Truly alive, not living, breathing, surviving, but actually ALIVE.  Quillin's muscles seemed to relax a little, but her calves and arches of her feet were still stuck in Charlie horses, and her shoulders still threatened to give her a headache.  As Quillin struggled to keep breathing, she pulled her shoulder blades together, and propped her elbows on the table she was laying on.  As she pulled her arms up, she opened her eyes.  A dim light flooded her sensitive eyes, and she had to blink a few times to adjust to the brightness.  When her eyes finally focused, she realized that the rough material on her skin was a red robe.  She was lying on a table that dwarfed her, and she was clean.  Her hair fell down around the middle of her forearms, and it was full and healthy looking.  Quillin pulled one of her hands up to look at, flinching as her muscles fought against her, and looked at the pale brightness of it.  She was so pale, that it seemed like death had breathed itself over her, but she felt her heartbeat, playing dully in her head.  Quillin heard a rustling from behind her and she closed her hand and pulled it to her chest, closing her eyes, and waited.  For what, she didn't know.

[This one I truly am sorry for the length.  And also for the amount of time it took me to get it up.  I try to get posts up in a short amount of time, but writer's block, and life tend to get in the way. Anyway, I will try to get my posts up faster next time.]

[Lion]

After the inspection and seeing various scars on her body, the dark elf had busied himself back to his work while the vampire's corpse had lied on the table as if it was another cadaver about to become apart another of the necromancer's constant experiments. After all, where else did all of Dietrich's undead servants come from but from Remilius' abilities with dark magic.

It was only when he saw the corpse stir out of the corner of his eye did he peer up from his work on a small red orb attached to a rope necklace, the transporter talisman that he had been at work at for Dietrich's long distance trips.  Remilius scratched at an elongated ear and slowly closed the large, dusty book that had occupied him.  The elf, in all his experience, watched in a morbid fascination at the body of the vampire that Dietrich had carried in as if she were his lover.  It was not so much that fact that she had awakened that caught the dark elf's vigilance but the fact that she was a corpse that had awakened without his magical intervention.  Never had he seen the workings of vampirism or its capabilities on a victim when the demonic poison moved to transform the human.  Whenever his master would feed, Remilius was either never present or Dietrich had drained so much blood that the victim no longer had any blood left for vampirism to settle in, manifest, and grow.  Now, seeing the actions of the vampirism manifest itself was truly an experience he could learn from.

And yet he felt it best that he alert Dietrich at once.  Immediately he left the library and returned shortly with Dietrich close behind.  "She has awakened, master," was all the dark elf uttered in his naturally deep voice and resumed his work on the talisman, keeping an eye on his master's actions out of the corner of his eye.

Slowly Dietrich approached the stirring girl.  As she moved, he watched with every bit of caution his good sense told him to.  In a voice that was both demanding and gentle, he asked when he was directly beside the table, "Do you have a name, miss?"

[Anonymous]

When she heard the man speak behind her, Quillin jumped, and her hand snapped up to her mouth, as if to cover the gasp that broke free from it.  She immediately began to shake, and her mind began to race.  "Do I have a name?" she thought to herself.  "Yes," she said.  "Yes? That was stupid.  What are you so afraid of?  It's not like he's got you chained up." "No," she corrected herself. "What? NO? Stop being so afraid!  GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF! "Um, yes, I have a name." "Quillin," she started calming down, It's okay, if he wanted to hurt you, he already would have." "I'm sorry, my mind is racing and I can't make it stop. My name is Quillin.  Who are you? Where are we? How did I get here? Do you know me? I'm sorry; I really need to stop talking now."  

When she was finished talking, she looked up at the man who was still looking down at her.  His hair was combed back, but a few stubborn strands of his auburn hair were still hanging teasingly in his face. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, and the bottom was tucked into his pants.  A few streaks of dirt covered his otherwise seemingly perfect white shirt.  Quillin realized that he must have carried her into this room, when she was still dirty.  Embarrassment rushed over Quillin, and turned her pale skin a tiny shade of pink.  Tears itched at her eyes, when she noticed an elf at the other side of the room.  She had made a fool of herself.  "I'm sorry about your shirt." Quillin closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears inside, and competed with her body to hide her embarrassment, while she waited for him to reply.

[Lion]

Dietrich observed with a strange curiosity as he watched the young woman sputter like a maniac, unsure as to whether or not she had a name.  Well, that's odd.  How can one not know their own name? he thought condescendingly, a smug furrowing of his brow confirming his bewilderment.  He continued his steady gaze, silent and as patient as he could possibly be yet he had to admit that her sputtering was quickly getting on his nerves.

Eventually she spat out a name.  "Quillin?" he asked sarcastically, quirking an eyebrow up at her for added effect.  When he received no answer but instead was awarded with a barrage of questions, he understood that this indeed was her name.  Something inside of him became even more confused as she began asking him of her whereabouts, who he was and the like.  Sensing that she was no direct danger to him, Dietrich would oblige her for now.  "My name is Dietrich," he muttered nonchalantly.  "This place is my home, Beniste Castle and I found you lying on the mountain path like a dead animal.  Not thinking, I carried you inside and had my servant here clean you and call me when you had awakened.  There's not much more to the story than that."

Dietrich was stoic in all his answers, becoming more impatient by the moment for reasons he could not identify.  When her eyes inspected him, a sudden shudder of discomfort ran down his spine but did not shake him; he simply took a deep, unnecessary breath and prepared to resume questioning.  She remarked on his shirt of which he then and there glanced down and truly took notice.  He smirked to himself, then to her and laughed lowly and dangerously.  "Don't worry about my shirt," was all he said as he allowed himself to pull her up into a sitting position then lean against the table with both hands.

Dietrich, faintly but surely, could perceive a small sense of frustration from the girl.  It seemed she was on the verge of tears.  Internally, he rolled his eyes in contempt.  Why are women all the same?  Crying over simple matters!  But he did not convey his true feelings as he pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket and offered it to her.  "I can feel your tears rising.  Wipe your eyes."

[Anonymous]

Quillin thought, for a second, she would reject the cloth this man had given her to wipe away her tears, but decided against it.  She didn't want to dirty the handkerchief, but she definitely didn't want to offend this man.  At least, any more that it seemed she had.  She took the cloth in her hand, and with the smallest bit of the corner, she dabbed both of her eyes.  Handing the thing back to the man, Quillin realigned herself on the table she was now seated on.  She lifted her legs and swung them off of the table, and place her palms on the edge of it, so that her fingers gripped the side.  Sitting this way allowed her to see around the man.  

The laboratory, library looking room filled Quillin with interest when she peered around Dietrich.  The table was littered with papers, and things Quillin had never heard of, let alone seen.  Around the room, an array of things flooded her mind with curiosity, but in her predicament, Quillin thought it best to keep her mouth shut.  She looked to the other side of the man "Dietrich, had he said his name was?" On his other side, an elf stood, looking down at something that looked like a ball of light.  He seemed to be testing it, with the actions he was carrying out with it.  The way she was looking at the thing in the elf's hands, or perhaps the thing itself, triggered a distant memory.

A woman, who looked strikingly like Quillin, was standing in front of her, as if trying to block something from view.  Quillin was sitting on a table (quite the same way she was sitting now, though, the table was shorter width wise, and a little taller.)  Around the woman in front of her, Quillin could just make out a man.  He had Quillin's eyes, and as he frowned, his left eyebrow came down, and his mouth came up to meet it, making it seem like his face was being squished together on that side.  Just like Quillin's did.  He had a bright blue ball of light in his hands, and he was looking towards Quillin with a look that struggled between hope, pain, and fear on his face.

The little room they were in, was very cluttered, very dusty, and extremely dinghy.  The floor seemed to be either dust covered or just dirt.  The windows visible behind the mess were covered with tattered, shabby curtains, though they weren't needed; light couldn't filter through the grim tinted windows.  The woman in front of Quillin started to talk, or maybe Quillin just started to listen and hear.  "Kay, honey, this is our only chance, please dear," the woman begged, tears coming to her eyes, "please, Quillin."  "But," Quillin started, but was cut off by the man.  "Quillin, you have to do this, we will all die, all of us, if you don't do this, you know they take people like you in, and they pay damn good money.  With this, you'll be better than any other.  They will have no choice but to take you on." "But," Quillin started again, "mom, I'm scarred."

Quillin realized she was still looking at the elf, and her eyes had glazed over.  She shut them, and shook her head, half out of confusion, half trying to clear her mind of the flashback.  She had never seen those people, or at least, she didn't remember them, but she called that woman her mother.   She had no time for this!

Quillin peered up at Dietrich, and looked into his eyes.  There electric blue hue reflected Quillin's small, scared looking self back at her.  She realized, for the first time, how good looking he was.  Taken aback at her own thoughts, and realizing how close the two were, she blinked a couple of times and leaned back a few inches.  Looking at him a little closer, she realized how pale white he looked, and then something else dawned on her.  Almost like a smell, and something of an instinct revealed a strange truth about this man.  Without even realizing it was coming out of her mouth, and in more of a statement than a question, she said, "You're a vampire."

[Lion]

Dietrich accepted the handkerchief as politely as he dared manage, placing it once more into his pocket.

"You're a vampire."

He looked up at her cynically, quirking both an eyebrow and his mouth into a alluring grin.  "Hmm, so it seems," he answered ambiguously.  Right now he could smell the stench of new undead about her, confirming that she was a youngling.  He wondered how she could have made the assessment so quickly if his evaluation of her was correct.  Under normal circumstances, a youngling would still be in a very disoriented stage and would therefore be unaware of how to sense another member of their kind.  From her quick assessment, he inferred that she must be older than a week and has at least made some adjustments into her new form.  Also, he could tell that she was a newborn because of the almost fresh bite mark on her neck, still bruise-colored.  Unlike her, Dietrich bore his mark of transformation on his left breast, where he was bitten on his night of fate.  With this as evidence as well, he knew that she could not based her judgment on seeing his mark.

"Well," he began, letting go of his grip on the table and instead holding his hands behind his back.  "It seems that makes the two of us, youngling.  You no doubt sensed the presence of your own kind.  And doing so at such an early start further extends your potential."  He smiled a quiet smile at her and moved towards the door.  "Follow me," he commanded simply, ignoring the disturbing way she had gazed at him.

[Anonymous]

Quillin couldn't believe that statement had come out of her mouth.  "You're a vampire?  That was stupid; he knows he's a vampire, idiot.  Keep your mouth shut. She was a little taken aback when he grinned back at her. "Oh God, can he read minds?" she thought. When he didn't say anything further along the lines of what she had been thinking, it relived her, but the cynical look he gave her, and the way he spoke to her, still left her something to worry over.

"Hmm, so it seems"

She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or if he was just agreeing with her.  This man was so hard to read, and that scared Quillin.  If she couldn't predict this him, he could do pretty much anything he wanted to her. Quillin noticed his eyes pass over her bite mark, and her hand snapped up to feel it, almost of its own accord.  Her own eyes automatically moved to scan his neck, but there was no mark.  When she found nothing, her eyes really had no where else to look but in his face, but that was awkward, so she looked to ground.  Her hand was still caressing her mark when Dietrich spoke again.  

"Well, it seems that makes the two of us, youngling. You no doubt sensed the presence of your own kind.  And doing so at such an early start further extends your potential."

As Dietrich had let go of the table and moved towards the door, Quillin watched every move he made.  Her eyes grew a little in there sockets when he acknowledged the fact that she, to, was a vampire.  She knew he must know she was a vampire, the same way she knew he was one, but it still unedged her that he knew. "Potential," she thought, "potential for what?" When he smiled at her, Quillin quirked her lips in a replying grin, and then he walked towards the door.

When he told her to go with him, it was a demand.  It wasn't a question, and there wasn't a chance to say no.  For some reason, that was okay with Quillin.  She wanted some one to demand her around, so she wouldn't have to make choices on her own.  She needed direction.  Before he got to the door, she put her face in her hands, and then tucked her hair behind her ears.  Awkwardly, (she still had her robe on) Quillin walked to the middle of the room, and glanced at the elf with the ball of light in his hands, hoping he had some type of answer for her.  She had so many questions running threw her mind, slamming into each other, that she began to feel her heart beat in her head, a sure sign for a future headache.  

Quillin walked towards the door and towards Dietrich.  Her steps were a little clumsy, for all of the lying and sitting she had done, and she was glad her feet were bare.  That's when Quillin realized that some one had to have taken off her clothes in order to put this red robe on her.  Turning a little red, Quillin started to concentrate on her feet, and fallowed Dietrich out of the room.

[Lion]

Remilius was very absorbed in his work, speaking dark enchantments with silent whispers.  The light small orb in his aqua-green hands dimmed and grew brighter in succession.  His eyes darted from the object in his grasp to the words of the open, dust laden book from which he read and was shut out from the world around him.  Enchantment had always been a challenging task to handle whenever he tried and didn't come as easy to him as necromancy did and the reviving of corpses.  And attempting to enchant an object as small as this orb through the darkness of necromancy proved to be a challenge more difficult than using either magic separately.  But he was determined to accomplish the task; challenges always seemed get the better of him.

Dietrich offered a glance to his servant and knew that the dark elf wouldn't give either the girl or him a second thought.  Once his work had taken him away there was little chance the elf would return to reality until his work was complete or performed to the best to his ability.  "Come on," Dietrich repeated to Quillin and closed the door behind him when she exited through the threshold.  He then led her down a narrow corridor that was lit by several lamps bordering the walls above them.  He rounded a right corner than a left ignoring the number of doors that passed them.  Finally they reached the main staircase and he took the passage downward to his floor.  His instincts told him that he would need to keep an eye on this youngling and learn what her motives were.  Something else within him notified him that perhaps his suspicions were merely out of habit, that there was nothing to fear from this girl.  "If anything she is most likely afraid of you and what you might do to her?" the voice told him confidently.  He knew the thought to be right, but nonetheless would remain wary unless convinced otherwise.

Taking her down a corridor that was the opposite of the hallway that led to his own bedchamber, he found the room he sought, guarded by dual doors of solid engraved maple and painted a beautiful sanguine mahogany with a fine varnish.  He opened the doors speaking as he inspected the shadowed room.  "I imagine you have no place to stay considering I found you on the mountain pass like lump of a carcass.  You're more than welcome to stay here seeing as there is no safer place you'll find," he said as he walked over to where he expected a gas light to be.  Igniting it, light filled the room, revealing the beautiful patterned wallpaper, large fourposter bed, a massive wardrobe,  washbasin, fireplace, and two large windows the overlooked the edges of the Draconi Forest.

The room was beautiful in itself and retained much of its femininity from its previous owner.  Though not too large, it was big enough to house all of its comfortable furnishings and great windows.  "This bedchamber," Dietrich began as he strode towards the fireplace and hefting a large log effortlessly into the furnace.  He spoke at the same he reached for a match from the box beside the logs and threw it into the furnace, "It once belonged to the lady of this castle, Lady Beniste before she killed herself in the tallest tower.  She asked me to keep this room the same as it was.

"You probably don't want to stay in that robe forever," he remarked as he pointed to what what Quillin was wearing.  "Much of the Lady Beniste's clothing remains in the wardrobe and you're free to wear it if you want.  Its cleaner than what you were in before and by far more comfortable."  After finishing preparing the room for her, Dietrich stood to full length and walked over to an armchair and motioned her to sit in the one across from him.  "Please, Quillin, sit," he commanded quietly, sensing a slight disturbance in her mind.  As he looked at her face, he noticed that she was quite a beautiful girl, her pallor and blue eyes merely adding to the effect.  The electricity in his eyes sparked.  "I would imagine that you have a lot of questions.  If so, now would probably be a good time to ask them."

[Anonymous]

When Quillin walked out of the room she had found herself in, Dietrich shut the door.  As they began to walk down the hallway, she found herself impressed with the size of the castle.  As the two walked threw hallway after hallway, she heard there own footsteps, matched with an eerie silence.  Two or three times she thought she saw someone, or something, down a hall, or in an open door, but she just kept walking.  Once, she found a room, so stunning, she stopped to look in.  Before she entered however, she remembered she was supposed to be following.  She glanced up the hallway just in time to see Dietrich turn around a corner.  Quillin hastened to catch up, being as fast and as quiet as she could, and she just caught up to him as he stopped.  He opened a door and walked into the dark.

Quillin stepped wearily into the room, staying as close to the door as she could without hinting she was scared.  Dietrich had disappeared into the dark, and she heard him fumbling with something.  Then, a light lit up the room, and Quillin let out a small gasp.  Gorgeous wallpaper adorned the large walls, only leaving gaps for two very large windows, which opened up to a dark night.  A handsome fireplace overlooked a beautiful four poster bed, and a marvelous wardrobe and a washbasin.  Quillin was so impressed by the size and beauty of the room, her eyes refused to blink and her mouth curled up in a smile, while it was still gapping.  Trying to figure out why he had brought her here, a slight chill ran threw Quillin, stealing her grin, and the feeling stayed.  "Please, Quillin, sit," he said quietly.  So, Quillin sat, facing Dietrich, and crossed her ankles to the right.  She leaned forward a little, curious of what would happen next, and looked from the fire to Dietrich's face.  Again, his good looks stunned Quillin into a stupor, and the only thing she could do was smile, and blink.  When Dietrich began to speak again, Quillin jumped, and leaned back into the chair she was sitting in.  

"I would imagine that you have a lot of questions. If so, now would probably be a good time to ask them."

'Oh god,' she thought, 'where do I begin?"

"If you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you? And, who was the elf, in the room we just left?" And, are you two the only ones who live here?"  Quillin bit her lip, she was afraid if she didn't, she would just start spewing out more and more questions, and she didn't want to overwhelm Dietrich.  She had too many questions, to just ask them all at the same time.  So she waited.  Hoping he would change his mind because of her burst of questions she seemingly couldn't stop.  Quillin took a long breath in, and slowly let it out, calming her nerves.  She wasn't sure why she was so edgy all of the sudden, but it wasn't helping her shut up.  Realizing she was leaning up in the chair again, she leaned back, and raised her hand to cover the mark on her neck.

[Lion]

Once again the feeling of her eyes on him pricked up the hair on the back of his neck.  An uncomfortable shiver ran through him that he suppressed and ignored with a quick clearing of his throat.  A small smile caught at his lips when he saw her recede back into her chair.  He recalled she performed a similar action during their first encounter and couldn't suppress as wondering thought as to why she did so.  Perhaps she was just as afraid of him as people were.  He smirked in satisfaction; he tended to have that effect on people.

As he cleared his mind of the notion, he heard her speak.

"If you don't mind me asking, who exactly are you? And, who was the elf, in the room we just left? And, are you two the only ones who live here?"

Dietrich listened with blunt interest.  Though it was not often he came across a youngling sprawled like a passed-out drunkard at his doorstep, but for some instinctive reason he knew that he would have to endure a great deal of questioning.  However, it did not occur to him that she would start out with some about himself.  When she asked who he was it seemed with a sincere enough interest and, of which he understood should be answered honestly; or at least as honestly as he saw fit.

After nodding his head slightly and pursing his lips in thought, he said, his voice without mockery, "Quillin, though your a newborn, there's something you must understand about being a vampire that is first and foremost above all others: Your identity is your most precious possession and it is not wise to reveal it nonchalantly, even to others of your kind."  He paused for a short moment, letting his words sink in before continuing.

"But," he went on.  "I'll indulge your curiosity.  My name is Dietrich Ambrose Chapel, and I am the master of this castle.  That dark elf you saw back there is my servant, valet, and necromancer.  And his name is Remilius.  In all honesty, he is the only living thing in this castle.  I, like the other servants, are undead.  I mean, besides the cooks; they are nothing more than crazed witches that spend their time making meals and a great mess of the kitchens.  Stay away from them, they literally are insane and only listen to Remilius or myself.

"The other servants here are corpses, revived with Remilius' talents and do nothing but clean and maintain the castle.  I wouldn't bother speaking to them if I were you.  They don't say much beside the occasional grunt that doesn't mean much at all."

He almost finished when he spotted her hand on her neck.  "And one more thing," he completed, "This is not a place for your modesty.  You'll get used to it one way or another."  He reached across the way and gently pulled her hand from her neck before relaxing back into his chair.

[Anonymous]

At first, Quillin doubted that Dietrich would answer her questions.  He nodded, acknowledging that he understood what she was asking, and then pursed his lips.  Quillin thought that he would ask her to go on with her questioning, and refuse to answer the first three. But, on the contrary, he began to speak.  Almost in a caring voice (which really didn't fit him, at this point) Dietrich warned her
"Quillin, though your a newborn, there's something you must understand about being a vampire that is first and foremost above all others: Your identity is your most precious possession and it is not wise to reveal it nonchalantly, even to others of your kind."  When Dietrich paused, Quillin's mind was released.  "Well that au'ta be easy," she thought, almost bitterly, "the only part of my past that matters anymore is the past two weeks."  The woman she had called mom that she never remembered seeing flashed through Quillin's mind.

"But, I'll indulge your curiosity. My name is Dietrich Ambrose Chapel, and I am the master of this castle. That dark elf you saw back there is my servant, valet, and necromancer. And his name is Remilius. In all honesty, he is the only living thing in this castle. I, like the other servants, are undead. I mean, besides the cooks; they are nothing more than crazed witches that spend their time making meals and a great mess of the kitchens. Stay away from them, they literally are insane and only listen to Remilius or myself.

"The other servants here are corpses, revived with Remilius' talents and do nothing but clean and maintain the castle. I wouldn't bother speaking to them if I were you. They don't say much beside the occasional grunt that doesn't mean much at all."


As Dietrich explained himself and his surroundings Quillin felt more and more like an idiot.  She realized that there was so much she didn't know about the world, and even herself.  How would she learn the skills she would need to thrive, for the rest of eternity?  Her mind wondered to Dietrich, and what he was keeping her in his home for.  Would he teach her the tools of the trade?  "Stop it," Quillin thought to herself, "you've been enough of a charity case already!" 'It would help,' her mind taunted.  Before her conscious rebelled completely, Quillin turned her whole concentration to Dietrich.  

As he explained the cooks and the servants, and warned her about the crazed witches, and illiterate servants, her curiosity flared.  She made a silent deal with herself not to go near the witches (she didn't need to be getting in anymore bad predicaments than she had already).  The servants, on the other hand, interested Quillin, and she almost unwillingly tucked them into the back of her mind.

As Dietrich was about to finish, he hesitated.  Then he continued,

"And one more thing," he completed, "This is not a place for your modesty. You'll get used to it one way or another."

Quillin almost knew what was coming next, but her brain couldn't catch up fast enough, and when Dietrich touched her a couple of things happened.  First Quillin jumped a little and then as he pulled her hand away from her neck, an odd chill went up her spine.  She almost enjoyed the fact that he had touched her (she hadn't had contact with another person for to long) but it also scared a part of her.  in a way, that she couldn't even explain to herself, the fact that he touched her sent of signals through her body, quickening her borrowed pulse, and sending adrenaline threw her body.  It's true; Quillin thought Dietrich was going to do something much worse than pull her hand from her neck, but after a moment, it really sunk in.  He had only made a point that Quillin was going to have to get used to his home.  

After a moment, Quillin realized Dietrich was waiting for her to continue her questioning, and she tried her hardest to pull herself out of the confusion she had just got plummeted into.  It took her a second to recollect her thoughts, but then she was right back on track.

Quillin looked up into Dietrich's eyes, in order to assure him that she NEEDED an answer to her next question.  She also communicated the sincerity of her curiosity, as she almost bore into Dietrich's eyes with hers.  "Would you please explain this," Quillin started slowly, almost whispering, "being a, being a vampire?"  Quillin surprised even herself, by keeping her voice so level, and low.  She really didn't want to know, but more needed to know the answer.  More questions itched at the very back of her mind, but the need to know the secrets and ways of her new form, and new life, silenced them.  At least for the time being.

[Lion]

Dietrich could almost revel in the fear he sensed in her but while it was flattering, he had no intent on acting upon it.  Unless she drove him to madness, of course.  But that would be an entirely different situation as well.  He looked at her sternly, with no emotion to convey to her.  This was a serious matter to him and it seemed to him as well and when she stared into his eyes in such sincerity that his eyes glittered with electricity again.

"Would you please explain this being a, being a vampire?" she had asked him in a tone just above a whisper.  She said it in a way that made it seem her vampirism were a secret that had to be hidden from virgin ears.  And not only that, but the fact remained that she said it in a vampire's home--and a vampire like Dietrich no less!

Suddenly a low rumble escaped his throat as he opened his mouth to laugh.  The sound of his cachinnation echoed throughout the stony complex of the grand room as was filled with amusement at this.  He was not laughing at her and not her question but really how she had asked it.

When he stopped, unnecessarily catching his breath, he smiled sardonically and moved to answer.  "You need not say it like it is some virginal secret," he said.  Then when the amusement he obtained from her subsided he became stern once again and stared into her eyes like a cat would a cornered mouse.  His voice was languid and smooth, as if careful to tread lightly in the quietness of the room.  The silence was so tranquil it went hand in hand with the silkiness of his voice: "From what I sense in you, you've been dead recently and so only have briefly experienced the strengths that will come to you in time.  But know that you are now reborn into a stronger, more durable, and better you.  And have shed the weaknesses of your previous life.  You cannot die by mortal means; disease will have no effect on you, cuts and wounds will heal far more quickly than you imagined, and time will no longer be your enemy for immortality is what lies in your destiny.  Your fate is now your own to control as you please and you may choose to become strong like me or let yourself fall back into your weaknesses in fear of what lies ahead.

"You've changed, to say the least.  You are the master of your time.  But no longer can you go back to your old ways of living in the warmth of the sun and watching dawn go down to day.  You have become a creature of the darkness like myself and 'twould be ill-advised if you neglect to learn this.  The darkness, as I'm sure you'll learn, will be your greatest ally in which you will become with the night.  Let the night cradle you in your weakness and, from it, grow into strength.  Use it to cloak you in stealth as you shed the blood of your victims, of your prey.  Night is the mother from which a vampire is nurtured and blood is the sustenance by which you will learn to survive.

"Know when and when not to trust in your own kind.  But never rest trust in a human because even though it is difficult to trust in a fellow vampire it is impossible to completely be able to trust a human.  They fear us and run from us to special groups specifically organized to hunt vampires.  It is in these Hunter Houses, as they're called, that mortals train to become vampire hunters.  While several of them are scattered across the continent, don't work out of their jurisdiction.  There are only two you have to worry about if you choose to remain in the area of these mountains and the Draconi forest: The Scarlett Vanguard and the House of Anarak.  I can explain these hunter houses later if you'd like, but I feel you have other questions you'd like to ask."  Dietrich silenced himself when he finished and resumed his vigilance upon Quillin like a hawk to prey.

[Anonymous]

As the vampire started to laugh, Quillin was confused.  She watched him, with virtually no emotion on her face.  She didn't know whether to be embarrassed at his reaction, confused, or angry.  She assumed that he was laughing at the question itself but when he began to speak, she realized it was her voice.

"You need not say it like it is some virginal secret."

Then, as he stared into her eyes, and began to tell her about her new form, she felt trapped.  Trapped in her own curiosity at what he was telling her, as well as trapped in her chair with his gaze.  As Dietrich told her of her knew form, she sank deeper and deeper into his voice.  She hadn't even realized her breathing had stopped as she took in the information he was feeding her.  The knowledge of what she had become was intoxicating.  She didn't even think as she began to understand what she was.  As Dietrich explained, Quillin memorized his words.  She doubted she would ever forget them.

When his answer came to a close, Quillin was almost disappointed.  She wanted him to continue to speak, to give her more details, more information.  But, at the same time, she knew she would have to learn on her own, and that he could only quell her curiosity with his words.  With his straightforward explanation, Quillin was changed.   She now had the knowledge of what she was to be, and do, and that invigorated her.  Even though she had left her life behind her, she had been born into an existence to envy.  

"I can explain these hunter houses later if you'd like, but I feel you have other questions you'd like to ask."

Again, Quillin fought to find her thoughts.  Dietrich had a way of scattering her mind that frustrated her.  "How," Quillin began, forming the words slowly in her mind before asking them, "Did you come to live here? And, why did the Lady of the house kill herself?"
Even the two questions together sounded rather pathetic after his long response, but none the less she was curios.  She crossed her fingers in her lap, and tried to keep her face emotionless, but curiosity still danced in her eyes.

[Lion]

"How did you come to live here? And, why did the Lady of the house kill herself?"

The question surprised Dietrich at least somewhat.  His expression changed from stoic to a small smile as he read the interest in her eyes.  He didn't quite expect the conversation to be directed toward him, but nonetheless he was willing to indulge her curiosity to a point.  These were harmless question really.  He turned his head toward the fireplace, staring at the flames leap to and fro at one another like starved animals fighting for survival and suddenly a flood of memories came rushing back to him like wildfire.  Images of him wandering the woods and mountains, swimming across lakes and rivers to reach one hopeless area from another flashed across his mind.  He had wandered for more than a hundred years, living like a laconic nomad of a darkened aged, fighting off animals, hunters, other vampires, and fearing; there was always the fear: the ever present fear of dying, of losing this second chance granted to him to pursue the existence of his choosing rather than being forced to live with the cards he was dealt.  For all those years, Dietrich had fought to earn his place in the world, fought to survive in a world that both feared and hated his new found blood.  But this deterred him none, for that trying time of trial tested his resolve and he learned invaluable skills that would serve him well for as long as he existed.  

As the pictures of his past flashed before his mind's eye and completed their journey, finishing with the memory of him walking through the mountains and chancing upon the castle that was occupied only by a ghost, Dietrich spoke reminiscently.  "It's a long history.  One that I don't care to delve too far into.  I will tell you however, that I had spent many years in the Draconi Forest, fighting, killing...surviving.  It wasn't until I traveled south far enough that I was so fortunate to chance upon this castle.  It was empty of people except for the spirit of Lady Agatha Beniste.  It was then that I chanced upon her that she explained to me everything I needed to know about this place.  She told me how this castle, Beniste Castle as it was called even then, was built by her husband, Gannon, out of love for her.  When he died, she could no longer go on living without him, so strong was their bond.

"So on the fourth day of mourning, so stricken with grief was she that told every single servant to enter into the lowest floor, the basement probably, where she then climbed to the tallest tower, the southern tower, and killed herself.  Plunged a knife straight through her heart.  She had told the servants beforehand that her soul would be unable to rest if a single one heard her scream.  Apparently one or two did because she still haunts these walls.  But fear not, she won't harm you any.  Just don't irritate her or she'll talk your ears off about respect and honor and other nonsensical bull.

"She didn't take kindly to me living her at first.  Something about a vampire taking up residence in the home her husband had built for her out his adoration, just bothered her to the core.  But after some discussion we eventually came to a tender agreement which involves me staying here, doing as I please so long as I leave her alone to do as she pleases.  She tends to stay in the southernmost tower, so you don't have to worry much about her."  With that, Dietrich said, "Now if you don't have anymore questions. I must attend to the cooks.  Dinner will be ready soon, and you are welcome to join if you'd like."  He moved towards the door and gave a glance back at Quillin expectantly.

[Anonymous]

As Dietrich smiled, Quillin's lips couldn't help but mimic his.  Then, as he turned his gaze to the fire place, she could almost see memories dance across his face.  She summed it up to the fire light though.  His personality, at least at first glance, told her his features would be betraying him if they displayed anything other than what he made an effort to show.  This man had secrets, and his reasons to keep them that way, which only triggered her curiosity all the more.

The only sound other than Dietrich's voice was the crackling of the fire, helping Quillin's imagination on its journey through Dietrich's history.  As he tells her about his history, images flashed across Qulin's mind.  She saw him living, disgruntled and dirty, sitting in a tree.  He was sucking the life out of his helpless victim, skeletally thin with dark circles under his eyes and patched of hair missing.  She imagined him walking up to a large castle (She still had not seen the outside of Beniste castle). He was talking with a ghost.  She even let her mind explore the sight of the lady taking her own li9fe, because of the death of her husband.  

As Dietrich headed for the door, Quillin stood up and began to move towards the door as well.  Then she remembered something.  Picking up the collar of the robe, as if she was showing him, she said, "Can I have a few minutes?"


[OOC: I'm sorry it took me so long to post.  And I'm sorry its short, my creativity is suffering at the moment, but I should be back to normal once school starts up again.]

[Lion]

The legends of the vampire were many and sometimes it was difficult to decipher the fact from fiction.  There were many things in which mortals assumed were true against the vampire that indeed were not.  Such as the assumptions that vampires were undead and therefore were not capable of many humanly functions.  This, in fact was only partly true, at least according to Dietrich's experiences.  Vampires were what he called "living demons" and quite capable of many humanly functions; breathing, eating, reproducing via intercourse were just a few to name, though these were not necessary for survival.

It was true that Dietrich did not need to consume food like a human to survive (to catch and feed off of prey was another matter).  But he enjoyed it as a luxury and knew that his head servant did in fact need to food to live.  He made sure the food produced by the witches was to his likings, making doubly sure the food would not turn him into a frog or have a profound effect on him that would make return impossible.  The cooks' domain was the kitchen and while he was the master of the castle, he respected their space enough do as they knew how even while he asserted his dominance over them.

As he looked to Quillin expectantly he saw her pluck at the collar of her robe and nodded in understanding.  "This castle is quite large and it is easy to get lost to one who has not been here as long as I have.  I'll wait outside for you."  With that, he nodded once more and closed the door behind him as his lean form departed the room.

['Sokay.  Mine was really short too.]

[Anonymous]

The moment the door shut behind Dietrich, Quillin was at the wardrobe.  Her face pulled together at the eyebrows as she looked over to were she had started.  Assessing the distance from halfway between the door and the chair, to where she was, she guessed at least a few seconds to walk it.  Not the instantaneous arrival.  "Must be a vampire thing," she said aloud, as she gently, slowly opened the wardrobe.  (She didn't want to tear the door of its hinges.)  As she glanced over Lady Benist's cloths, she felt her jaw drop, until she subconsciously drew it up to form the words, "Oh... My... God."
 
When she opened the door, an eruption of color and fabric met Quillin.  Her first response was to look at every single detail of each dress in turn, taking in the lush colors and beautiful detail work.  Unfortunately for her, Dietrich's presence, even from outside the room, goaded her into action.  At first Quillin picked out a dress at random, not knowing how else to make the decision.  After she pulled it from the other dresses, though, she realized how strikingly beautiful it was, and put it back.  Looking for the least beautifully dress was quite a feat, considering the contains of the wardrobe, but after a few minutes, she found it.  Walking over to the bed, she laid the fabric over the side, and admired it for a moment, before slipping off the robe that covered her.  She lifted the dress over her head, and slid her arms into the sleeves.  As she pulled her hair out from under the collar, she turned towards one of the windows.  The dark outside turned the window into a mirror, and Quillin glanced at herself before turning completely around to face herself.

She was surprised at how well she fit into the scene.  The wallpaper dated back to when the dress had been made, or fashioned to look like.  Her hair draped over her shoulders, and a smile lit up her eyes as she touched her face, making sure it was really her looking back at her from the dark.  Her eyes, she noticed, looked different.  This was the first time she had seen herself since her transformation.  Her skin looked lighter than it had, and her face was -perfect-.  Her eyes were the most different of all, though.  Almost like a fire had been lit behind them, they glowed.  The color was also much deeper and brighter all at the same time.  Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she turned from herself to walk towards the door, noticing she had no shoes on.  Opening the door, she decided she didn't mind.

[You can describe the dress, so that I have an idea of what they are like, if you don't mind.]