thewizardguy

The World of Blood Compact

Sorry for disappearing for a while there. Hopefully I'll be back to posting regularly now.

The World of Blood Compact

@Remipa Awesome
((sorry for extended absence.))

It was a ruckus. The kind of mess that Mia usually avoided. The entire scene was decorated to her taste with bodies and gore, and yet she could very much tell that she was not in charge of the situation. Here, in the presence of so many other vampires, she was not on top of the food chain. She looked up at the big guy. Deon. He was the guy her toy had gone to hunt down, and the guy she'd promise to help him kill. Now in his presence, Mia was fairly content she hadn't been dragged into that fight. The guy was obviously an older vampire, whereas she herself was relatively weak. With the element of surprise, a bit of luck, and some preperation, maybe she could take him. But that was a big maybe, and a bunch of advantages she now sorely lacked.

Hesitatingly, Mia looked over to where her new toy had gotten himself killed. It seemed some other vamp had already claimed him, although it was clearly a newblood. The new vamp seemed to be related to Mia's new toy, based on her extensive use of 'daddy' and apparent emotional attachment. At this point Mia could easily have slipped away, sliding off into the darkness to return to her usual routine. But perhaps the usual routine had become boring, stale. And she needed something to spice it up. And she had rights to that corpse, after all. 'you can do whatever you want with what's left of me'.

Mia tapped the new vamp on the shoulder, as they incompetently attempted to turn their dying father. She gave her best smile, and gestured for the new vamp to get out of the way. "Clearly, ya don't know what you're doing. If you're gonna turn 'im, you've got to do it proper, or you just end up with a dying thrall." Of course, Mia was no expert on the subject herself. Her particular style had prevented her from ever considering siring another vampire, and she didn't hang out with her kin much. Even moreso than other vamps, she was a loner. However, unlike newbie over here, she'd been paying attention when she was turned, and knew what to do. "Now, I got dibs on this guy. So you just make sure the big scary man doesn't bother me, and I'll have your daddy up and killing again in no time squat." With this reassurance, Mia set to work on creating her very first Vamp Junior.

Kneeling down beside the corpse, Mia extended her claws. Most other vamps used the teeth, and maybe she could as well if she wanted to, she wouldn't know. But she chose to stick to what she knew, and leave the experimentation for later. Reaching up, she stabbed Hank in the heart, her hollow claws penetrating the wall of muscle that surrounded it. The neck was nice, but the heart was faster. And when you didn't need to use your teeth, it made the whole thing less awkward. Counteracting her instincts, Mia reversed the flow of blood through her claws, injecting her own blood into Hank. It had to be enough, and she had to make sure her blow to the heart was what 'killed' him. Or at least she was pretty sure that was important. Could be she was doing this all wrong. But hey, better to try and fail than to have never tried at all, as mom would have said.

Of course, this would take a moment, and either Kathryn or Deon might very well intervene. If nobody else with a stake in the matter appeared on the scene, that is.

HCL V: insert witty title here

Sorry, rewriting. Didn't take account of Tiny's post.

HCL V: insert witty title here

Sorry for the lack of posts. Been running 2 sessions, and been generally busy. Posting now.

The World of Blood Compact

@Remipa Awesome

Mia squinted. How strange. She had expected him to shoot at her, or at least try to. And yet, even as she tensed for the dash across the roof, he merely spoke. How interesting. Was this a new kind of game? Was this a game of chicken? Was he seeing what she would do, as she waited to see what he did? And yet she couldn't read him, couldn't read his movements. His face was weary and experienced, his body cut up and bruised beyond imagining, and yet he still held himself as if he were a threat. A bloodied sheep with the stance of a lion. It was certainly a most interesting animal she'd come across.

The names meant nothing for her. Mia had long done away with names. When most of your 'social interaction' involved a serrated edge and a slow death, names became mostly inconsequential. She recognized people more by the way they bled than by any label they'd attach to themselves. But she humoured him, interested in the stranger's game. If he were nice, she might even play along.... "You wanna find Deon? What fun! I can find anyone, if I want to. The question is simply whether I want to." Mia smiled. It was part boast, part truth. She could track like a bloodhound, if given something by which to recognize her quarry's scent. "But you ain't looking so good. So I'm thinking that you're an easy meal for any nasty crawly monsters in the dark. No more legs to run away, no more bullets to shoot. Isn't it a good thing that it's just little old me?" Mia innocently held her hands behind her back, her claws tapping against one another.

Of course, just killing this guy now was boring. She'd come all the way out here to find him, after all. Hunting had two appeals. He didn't look like the type to scream, and in his current state and location she very much doubted he'd run very far. So she'd have to find a new game to play with him, something.... original. Fresh. After all, if she was going to hunt for eternity, she'd have to introduce some variety to keep it interesting. "Hey, I just had an idea for something. How about I help you find this......" what was his name again? Something with a D? Whatever. ".... the dude you're looking for. And then you try and kill him. But, if you don't manage to kill him, I get to do whatever I want with you. Sound like fun?" Of course, the odds of this guy actually killing his mark were fairly slim. Especially if he found the guy tonight. The game was rigged against him. But considering his position, he was all out of options. Her help, regardless of the consequences, was the best shot he had at walking off this roof alive, and he knew it.

HCL V: insert witty title here

@Wraithblade6@supertinyking

The small one was odd. While speech was far from unknown among his species - indeed, Khaine oft took the time to learn the languages of the worlds he sought to conquer - rambling was foreign to him. Speech was a means to an end, and an end that would be reached with the swiftness of a blade to the throat. Yet the child talked about things both meaningful and meaningless, seeming to talk for no other reason than to talk, as if there was value in the act in and of itself. Such a thing was an oddity to Forge Demons, to whom value was measured in strength of both steel and muscle, and in valuable metals. But Khaine decided to endure it, carefully retaining the information that could be gleaned from the creature's monologue in case it might become useful at some later point.

Suddenly, Khaine heard a sound. Footsteps, fast moving, running. The slight hiss of steel leaving the sheath, the clatter of weapons as an armed party sped towards the pair. Khaine turned, reflexes primed for a fight, as a strange figure leaped up into the air. They'd gotten close, Khaine had been too relaxed. Internally he scolded himself, back in his day as warlord no opponent could have moved near him without his blade finding their throat. As it was, his fist flashed out to catch Isaac in the gut even as he attempted to leap the nearly 4m behemoth. The heavy Demonsteel gauntlet smashed into Isaac's abdomen, and the enhanced human was sent flying back into his insectoid retainers. A normal human would have been shredded by the blow, as Khaine's fists carried the force to tear through brick walls. And it was only through Isaac's superhuman endurance that he was able to take it as well as he did.

With a gesture, a portal opened at Khaine's feet, and from it came the Dread Blade 'Rending Eye.' The immense black sword was over 2m in length, larger than most men in and of itself, and had been custom made from the Blood of Baal when Khaine had first earned the title of Dread Lord. Fiery red lines formed intricate patterns and runes over the solid black blade, the edge blazing a bright orange. Where the guard gave way to the blade rested a closed eye, the organic component seemingly fused with the blade itself. A wave of heat washed through the room, tiny blue flames bursting from where the edge touched the air. Khaine gripped it in one hand, and faced the force that stood before him. The smell of blood was in the air, and like a shark, it excited him. He could taste the smoke in the air, the ashes of the mighty forges that still worked below. Memories of a thousand battles flooded through his mind, as his body automatically assumed a combat stance. On reflex, he raised the blade towards his opponents. Had this been but ten years prior, he would have waded through this foolish group of aliens blade flashing, and left nothing but burnt corpses.

"............" Khaine glared down at Isaac and the insectoids. He was unsure of what to do in this situation, besides attack. And yet some part of him knew that to give in to violence now would make all his earlier efforts void. And most bewilderingly of all, he noticed that in his moment of preparation, he had placed himself in between the tiny mortal and the attacking force. Filing away his concerns for later, Khaine questioned the force before him. "Tell me, who are you, mortals. You may not have proven yourselves to me, but perhaps if I know your name I shall have an easier time sparing your lives." While the statement might have sounded like a threat, coming from Khaine, it was completely legitimate.

HCL V: insert witty title here

@Wraithblade6

Khaine's instincts had not been wrong, and the mountain soon opened up to reveal a hidden passageway. Khaine did not draw his weapon, although he remained on guard. This world had seemed peaceful from the outside, but any sort of creature might live here. Mountain fortresses were a favourite, after all, among the ranks of both dwarves and giants. The giant creature shifted it's stance, balancing it's weight for a quick dodge if an arrow were to come flying out of the darkness. His blade rested within him, to be drawn forth from his essence as demanded should these creatures show hostility. But for all his experience, Khaine could not have predicted what came next.

A single, tiny creature emerged from the opening. A fleshling, so small that it's head barely reached the demon's calves. It stared up at him like a lost puppy, no armour to shield it's body, no blade to strike back at it. The creature was like a testament to weakness, the avatar of the meek. A small mortal child, two graceful wings curving away from it's back, it's golden hair framing a pair of sky-blue eyes that radiated innocence. The scene drew an odd parallel, the Demon and the Angel confronted with one another. But there was an... aura, about the child. A sense of power yet untapped, potential yet unfulfilled. A powerful and innate magical talent, similar to the arcane power that suffused the Sons of Baal, but simultaneously completely alien. It was unnerving, feeling such a strange power from one so clearly weak.

It took a moment before Khaine felt the need to reply. Courtesy was a trait not valued among the courts of the World Forge, and haste was all but lost among a species of immortals. "My home lies in another realm. I am simply passing through." The Dread Lord's voice was a metallic rumble, loud and powerful. If an anvil could speak, this is what it would sound like. "I travelled to this mountain to-...." On second thought, that was a rather difficult topic to explain. Even Khaine himself didn't truly understand why he had come here. Had it merely been curiosity? Frustration at his exile? Wanderlust? Regardless, he was here now. "I mean no harm to either you, nor the denizens of this fortress. Today, I come in peace."

HCL V: insert witty title here

@Wraithblade6
Sounds like fun. I was basically just throwing him at the general area of the plot to see what happened.

HCL V: insert witty title here

Both as a warrior and as a general, Khaine had walked many worlds. He had seen worlds covered in water, and fought in flying cities. He had seen peoples both bizarre and powerful, and tested them in battle. However, always had he seen these worlds through the lens of war, he had seen them in their last throws as the world was annihilated by the superior invading demon force. He had strode through burning cities and fields of corpses, crushing all who stood in his path. It was a truth Khaine had accepted about the world, a state of being he believed to be the inevitable result of his nature. And yet, as he strode from the portal, he was greeted with open green fields. This world was untouched by war, save what the inhabitants had done to one another. It was a momentary oddness, that he found himself without an army, walking on a world so..... clean.

Seeing no viable threats to his well-being, Khaine decided to head towards a rather large structure he spotted in the distance. An immense construct of mortar and stone, similar in shape to an ant nest, but far superior in scale. The makeshift mountain was heavily reinforced, and as he strode towards it Khaine found himself musing on how to take it. He came to the conclusion that marching your troops up the heavy slopes would be suicide, as you bared yourself to enemy attack while tiring out your troops. It would be best to strike from the air, shock troops landing at a variety of locations as a strike force attempted to take control of the main entranceways. Lightly armoured troops could then be moved up the mountain, to be let in by the strike forces as they moved in to capture more important strategic points, and clear the way for the larger war machines to dominate the battlefield.

Of course, such speculation at this point was fruitless, for Khaine had no troops to throw at the mountain. While many demons would still have followed him into battle, he had abandoned his post, and exiled himself. It was a decision he often questioned, and it was mostly his curiosity that set him on this path. For he had seen the world through the Path of War, but what world could be seen outside of it? What beautiful sights lay hidden from his eyes, merely for the actions he took? These questions were what brought him to the mountain, and kept him from drawing his blade. For if he chose not to fight, a whole new world might be revealed to him.

No force emerged to meet him as he approached the structure, no army roared out to challenge him. And yet Khaine found himself faced with blank stone walls where he knew the entrance must be. Khaine looked over the fortress, reassuring himself once more that the main entrance would, in fact, be placed here. He knew that it was quite probably built within these walls, camouflaged by either ingenuity or magic in order to ward off invaders. But he knew not how, without tearing it down, he was to enter. Thus, he decided to wait, an almost painful decision to make, setting aside his violent urges to see how this situation would play out. How would the people of this makeshift mountain greet him, if they wished to meet with him at all?

@supertinyking

HCL V: insert witty title here

@kishin asura
yay. I'll see about putting down an opening post.