The sun broke upon Esben's face. A few hundred years ago he would've called this a pleasant day. But not anymore; not while daylight still burned. He reclined in the shade of some fir trees, as he pondered his next action. "Lord, we have some urgent news. A band of refugees from the north is heading right under us, they seem to be heading south." The cultist bowed, and waited for a response. "Prepare the Magi, we shall capture as many as we can alive, but leave any that prove resistant to me." The cultist bowed once again, then departed. Esben hadn't had any quality vitae in weeks, only the vapid blood of the northern cultists. While he respected their sacrifice for him, Esben was going to relish the opportunity to sink his fangs into some animated prey. 

As night fell, the refugees slowed, and made camp. Tired from their long journey, they would be easy prey. From atop the hills, the Thaumaturgists prepared to strike. Esben conjured his sword and shield, as he waited for the camp to settle down. When the last light was snuffed out, he sounded the horn; the cultists laid into the camp and decimated the night watch. After the men fell, the women and children weren't far behind, except for one boy. He was dragged, kicking and swearing, to the feet of Esben."Well, I didnt think I'd find anyone with any fight left in this camp. Say, boy, what is your name?"
"My name is Magni Feigrrson, and I am no boy." He said, as he spat into his oppressor's face. "If you have any honor, you would allow me to die in combat; so I can join my father."
"Bold words from a man child, but I will grant your request." Esben whistled, and a cultist threw an arming sword in front of Magni. As he reached for the weapon, Esben spoke once more, "If you pick up the sword, boy, you sign your own death warrant. You have no hope of defeating me. How about you join our cult instead?" He extended his left hand to help the boy off the ground, but Magni instead picked up the sword with lightning speed and severed Esben's gaunlet at the wrist. He cried out in pain, but the cry devolved to maniacal laughter as the blood from his wound coagulated, forming a new hand. "Too bad I already lost that hand, kid." Esben's sword, Deathknell, was conjured through the blood from his wound as he struck the boy's sword; leaving an audible screech in the air as metal and Bloodsteel collided ."Lets see how you fight without your cheap shots! He swung again, nicking Magni's ribcage with a glancing blow. "I would rather die on my feet, than serve on my knees!" He said, wincing at the pain and slaming his sword into Esben's. "Sorry, boy, but thats not how this is going to end!" Enunciating his threat with a riposte, and a cleave through Magni's swordarm. As he fell to his knees in pain, he spoke through clenched teeth, "You promised you would kill me!" The boy flung his head up to look at Esben, who was now also kneeling.
"Oh I am going to kill you; I'm a man of my word after all. But first, I'm hungry. You put me through a lot of trouble, cutting my hand off. You will pay for that, now." Esben sunk his fangs into his opponent's neck as Magni screamed in agony. Esben then whispered into his ear, "what was that about dying on your feet?" He said as he conjured two daggers and hewed Magni's calves from his legs. "This is only the beginning of your suffering. You will be made an example of as to why you do not disobey the orders of out Dark Lady." He said, sinking his fangs once more into Magni's neck, who had passed out from shock by now.

That was fun, Esben thought as he recalled the raid. That boy's vitae was the best he had tasted in a while. "Maybe I should sample more of the Northfolk", he thought to himself. Esben strolled back into the secluded monastary to oversee Magni's recovery. "How's the boy doing?"
"He's recovered from his wounds just fine, minus his calves. Thanks to your Coagulate technique, he was saved from complete bloodloss. The only major problem is he is still dormant after 3 days." Esben smirked, "Oh don't worry about that; I know just the thing to wake him up." He then removed his left gauntlet to reveal the pulsing, undulating mass of blood; vaguely in the shape of a hand. Esben then manifested a needle on each finger, and drove them under Magni's fingernails. The Boy's eyes shot open, and he prepared to scream; but not before the needles grew hooks, and Esben ripped his fingernails out, along with a few veins. The cry of pain shot through the halls like a banshee as Esben calmly walked out of the room and informed the cultist standing in the main hall, "Prepare the Bull." The cultist bowed, and scurried away. Damn, he thought to himself, I'm hungry again.