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Charles Lemarr

Centuries old vampire born of spite.

0 · 829 views · located in Cursed Wood

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Leli, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

ImageName: Charles LeMarr
Age: 681
Sex: Male

The heritage of vampires is told to come of many places, some of the most accurate, at least in the case of Charles, is that he was born from the belly of a beast. Of course, that's only the beginning of the tale. The beast that bred the horror was a woman of Slavic descent, her husband a large man who saw a reflection of himself in his son. A head over the rest he was well built with intimidating features; dark eyes, an angled face, a wicked smile and of course a heart cruel enough to put the devil to shame. Upon his death at the hand of a blade Charles was buried without services, face down with a brick in his mouth.

His awakening brought forth the more disheartening aspects of his appearance; pale skin marked with deep shadows, strongly pointed teeth, black nails and once golden hair rotted to a sullen black. His person grew in size, bloated by the fumes that festered in his belly when he died, but fell to a slim profile after his first feed.

With age he found that not only had he gained youth, but also great powers, those not before conceived by men. Any man's strike of the sword would fail to the strike of his hand; his words bellowed louder than the bells of the church and he ran quicker than any horse. This of course was not all. On a night of no moon he could, upon an exertion of effort disperse his corporeal form into dark wisps of unholy smoke, and thusly move as smoke does trespassing without hindrance through doors, windows and the cracks of walls. He may also, through incantation, bring forth an endless amount of the same black miasma. This fog causes anyone within to choke on the rotten smell, and toxic taste. However, the fog does not merely sit about the floor; it seeks out lights, whether human or not, and attempts to destroy them.

So begins...

Charles Lemarr's Story

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#, as written by Leli
"I've yet to learn the names of all our clansmen Dominic, I know nothing of the Lessards." Pausing Charles looked to the leader of the group, the one who seemed to know the most. "How have we earned their ill will?"

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#, as written by Leli
Charles remained silent. He fumed inside his own skull, cursing the Lessards and their damned pet. He would rather hold his tongue until Casren had finished explaining how else they'd wronged the Lessard family.

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#, as written by Leli
"I knew he said they treated him poorly; however they seek to harm us for his betrayal now?" Charles was confused by this. As far as he knew Mariotto had done nothing wrong, though he knew full and well the man wasn't innocent. Yet, at the same time he saw no reason to why he and others must be penalized for that that man's faults. "What would they have done with him?

The setting changes from Room of Reason to Cursed Wood

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#, as written by Leli
With the soon to arrive dawn Charles thought to return to the scene of his disgrace, perhaps gain some upper hand over the beast that fouled him. Finding the place didn't prove difficult in the least. From there Charles followed the faint blood trail left by his adept adversary. Perhaps she would be resting in the morning, proud of her nights achievements, but weak without the moon at her back. She would die before the sun had risen. Or would have if Charles had ever managed to find her. Instead he came to an abrupt stop at recently made clearing.

Branches rested on overturned earth. Obviously something had happened here as well during the full moon. Yet it was nothing like the controlled damage Charles had enacted upon him during his bout. Above all else a woman knelt beside a gray ashen pile, her hands going over a sword Charles couldn't help but notice as all too familiar. Was she one of the Lessards Casren had mentioned? One whom sought the death of Mariotto?

"Who are you to be among these lands woman?" Charles bellowed, his dark green cloak masking all but his face.

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#, as written by Leli
"Not yours either." Awaiting a response from the Varia Charles, after his encounter hours before, readied himself for yet another conflict, if only mentally. "And you've still yet to give reason to your presence Varia."

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#, as written by Leli
A smart woman. Fancy that.

Catching the blade Charles weighed it just the same as Varia. A thick piece of metal in his mind it bore no use in his hands. Perhaps a mortal might see it do well against another's flesh, but his would sooner burn than it would cut at the end of metal. Pushing the blade through on of the loops formed by his belt and pants Charles closed his cloak again. "The man was no friend. Related by cause alone, though even then I'm unsure."

"That wolf is indeed in these woods; I've no doubt she remains. You seem a smart girl, what do you know of her?"

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#, as written by Leli
"A man with a price." Charles eyed the woman again, checking for any signs of weapons or open hostility. Seeing that she was, perhaps, as smart mouth and wicked as he was he thought it still safe enough to step forward. "And if your a tourist I suggest you leave. The locals aren't too kind to those who have no place in these woods."

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"Charles LeMarr, if you must know." Turning his head and never letting Varia leave his sight Charles sighed heavily. He didn't like being looked at like a piece of meat ready for the slaughter. I'll take this piece Mr. Butcher. Then again he wasn't much different from her. "It is not that the locals worry which makes them dangerous, it is that they act. A tourist is unwelcome when murder stains the towns doorstep. But, perhaps you can change their opinion of you, or at least mine."

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Charles snapped, drawing in a quick breath before nearly shouting at the woman. "They do when collared!" Mariotto's death meant little to him. He was still hurt by his own failure at the hands of the wolf; his pride still sang a sad song of disappointment.

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Having taken a step a bit too far across the line Charles drop his gaze to the ground where Mariotto's ashes still rested neatly. Returning his dark green eyes to Varia he looked at the woman, still unsure of her reasons for being here. It couldn't have simply been to see what had happened, not if she knew only of rumours. "You seem to hear a lot though don't you? What else have you heard?"

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"What more is there to know? A man with a price was murdered, by a chained dog no less. I know not what he held the price for, nor do I wish too. Yet, you know of the words of gypsies, and of the locals actions, things even I'm unaware of. It seems that there is nothing else for me to tell you, only things for you to tell me." Growing tired of this endless circle of questions Charles prepared to make his leave. He was in no position to fight again, not with the sun rising in a few minutes, and hoped his words would be enough to chase away the girl.

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#, as written by Leli
"I'll remember the name Ms Vulpes, now take my advice and leave before the others come onto you." Had he finally rendered her constant pestering moot? The sun began to poke out above the peak of the horizon, the tree trunks cascading beams of light through the cursed wood shinning brightly on the light fog that coiled about the trees and bushes. Standing vigilant Charles waited for Varia to take her leave. His presence would be required at the castle soon, after all a member had been murdered on their doorstep.

The setting changes from Cursed Wood to Room of Reason

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#, as written by Leli
Charles Lemarr enterred the room, nearly ripping the great doors from their hinges. He still bore the dark green cloak that had seen him through the dawn's early sun perhaps an hour earlier. Under it his left hand gripped the crosspiece of Mariotto's sword, running fingers over the metal edges. He had dire news in once sense; in another he came simply bearing a message. He knew little of Mariotto, only that he had sparked a conflict with a clan known by Charles only to be greater in strength and numbers.

"Here." Throwing the blade onto the round table ahead of the rest of the members Charles took his seat aside Daciana. "Found amid an ashen pile. I'm to wager the same wolf that assaulted me has killed Mariotto."

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#, as written by Leli
"A burden relieved as I feel. However, if the Lessard's still seek our blood it will be a burden renewed." Charles rested an elbow on the table, covering the bottom of his chin with one hand. "Although prepared to go to war with them prior, I've come to learn of their power. I'm not so foolhardy to swiften my death as he did."

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Charles Lemarr laughed at the prospect of asking the Lessard's for aid. When he'd lost at the hands of the beast he'd been at the disadvantage. Once the moon had fallen behind shadows he would have easily murdered the dog. "Let the moon fall Casren and I will deliver the wolf's head to your doorstep."

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#, as written by Leli
"The moon shone bright that night! The creature was stronger only by that!" Charles offered to the dragon. He'd yet to have actually met the beast and knew less of it than he did of anyone else. At least those that he'd heard of. "Again I say let the moon fall and I shall deliver it onto you."

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#, as written by Leli
Pushing away the hand of his kin Charles rose to his feet. He would not wait for others to act against a wolf that had harmed him directly. The moon would begin to slowly mask itself as the days passed and in a fortnight he would be able to murder the dog wherever it stood, no matter who's pet it was. "If you'll not warrant the death of a stray I'll take it upon myself, not the Vankoryth." Taking his leave Charles paused at the door, turning back to view the assembled room. "If you seek to warn the beast I suggest you pray before you act. God isn't welcoming to heathens as I've come to know."

The setting changes from Room of Reason to The Abandoned Slums

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#, as written by Leli
Charles Lemarr turned to meet his kin, a woman whom he'd turned nearly half a century ago. He wasn't surprised to see that she had followed, rather that she hadn't done so immediately. She wasn't some kind of lost puppy, but he did at times find her to keep close onto his heels if only because she seemed to have only come to the clan to accompany him. Scowling at her first words Charles pushed his way past her uninterested in her mock sex appeal. "If the owner cannot tether their pet than it is not on my hand that the blood pools. I'll not have my pride sullied for a clan I've only just become a part of."

The setting changes from The Abandoned Slums to Cursed Wood

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Character Portrait: Torrential Character Portrait: Varia Vulpes Character Portrait: Charles Lemarr
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post co-written by NotAFlyingToy, Tiko and Leli)

The fingers of the sunlight were receding from their hold upon the sky, inching back towards the western skyline in a full retreat. Amidst the beckoning darkness stood a shadow, with mocha skin, dark glasses, and a muscle shirt strapped down with weapons of various shapes and sizes. Behind the thick glass was a quirked eyebrow as he studied the clearing he stood in; dead leaves mingling with browning grass, gentle breezes flowing through the trees that encircled the area. As he finished his cursory scouting, the shadow stepped into the open, one hand firmly enclosed around the handle of his Katana.

Into the clearing stepped the Shadow.

Into the clearing stepped Torrential.

It was a shitty spot for an ambush, and he truly doubted any of his would-be companions would risk attacking someone that they needed in order to fight off their prey for the night. He was useful; even the wild and care-free Lessard girl would admit that, though his former ally of the Vankyroth may be harder pressed to come clean about his skill. Either way, Torrential didn't think much of his companions opinions.

He was here to kill a mutt.

Checking his watch, and noting that he was indeed on time, he sat cross-legged in the middle of the clearing, and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds around him. He was a competent tracker because he relied on all of his senses, and he took the time to hone them whenever possible. A deer crunched a leaf a few miles to the south, two squirrels chased each other over nuts, and the chattering of a mockinbird rose above the din of the forest.

With all of his concentrated listening, it was little wonder that he heard one of his companion's approaching him. With a smile, he spoke.

"I wondered if this was going to be a Solo hunt, after all."

It was Varia who stepped into the clearing, clothed as impractically as ever. Milky cream skin glowed in the night, hardly seeming fitting for the hunt ahead. The only saving grace to her scant clothes were the numerous blades adorning her figure. Fortune would have it at least, that the darkness cast by the new moon kept her numerous piercings and metallic ornaments from glinting in the moonlight.

Behind her, dark shapes took form as several wolves detached from the trees with her. They were lean and ravenous beasts, as wild as Varia's heart. However, as she moved to join Torrential, the animals dogging her steps fell back to wait within the shadows.

“Lovely night for a hunt, wouldn't you say?” Varia inquired with a glint of fire in her wolfish eyes.

"Lovely night indeed." He opened his eyes and looked up at her, letting his gaze travel from her feet to her face, slowly, languidly. He cracked a smile, flash of fangs in the darkness.

"I was pleasantly surprised when you asked me here, Varia. Hunting the mongrel would be most pleasing to me."

“I hope that's not all that's pleasing to you,” Varia replied with a coy wink as she sauntered past him to keep watch for Charles.

He let his eyes wander on her for a little while longer, and he rose to his feet. "You have me curious," he began. "Most Lessards I've heard of - though you're the first I've met in the flesh - seem to be uptight..." He paused, looking for the right word.

"...Dickwads. Yet you seem less so. I imagine you don't get along well with your brothers in fangs."

"Maybe you just haven't met enough of us yet?" Turning, she lounged leisurely with her back to a tree. Everything about the woman seemed wolfish, from the amber hue of her eyes to her coy grin.

He grinned back, liking that particular expression on her face. "I don't think that's a bad thing. Vankyroth, Lessard... all you group types are bad for business. I prefer the thrill of the hunt to the boredom of politics."

“And yet here we both are, same night, same patch of wood, hunting the same werewolf. Me a Lessard, you a... whatever you are. Not so different, eh?” she retorted.

Torrential nodded, one hand touching the silver dagger, the only piece of silver the vampire owned, at his belt. It wasn't nearly enough to take down the werewolf by itself, but at least he wouldn't witness a wolf's eyes grow back after he popped them out.

"I prefer to think of myself as a... free agent." He rolled his neck on his shoulders, arching his brow. "But I agree. Not so different after all."

A pause. Then, "What are you doing after we bag the werewolf?"

Dirty ashen hands reached out beneath a dark green cloak, silver trimmed cuffs taught on the arm slid off the wrist revealing more of the pale figure. His steps were quiet, his breathing almost unexistent. Blackened nails gripped the loose bark of a young sappling, skinning it to expose the green underneath, as they coiled deeper into the young wood.

His first meeting with Varia was over the corpse of a man he’d just come to know. Though he thought nothing of him, the attack against a group he’d sworn allegiance to couldn’t go unnoticed. It was there he was offered the aid he came to know he needed so badly only a few weeks before at the hands of that same wretched wolf and one of her pups. And only a few nights after that he’d found himself in her presence once again, taking her up on the offer.

And so here he was.

“Late, am I?”

He had no need to run his eyes over either of the two, the metal of their blades had already caught his attention long ago. But something was to be said about the poor clothing that Varia wore.

He spoke again, “Lets not linger on me, I’m sure we’ve all places to be for the night.” a tug pullin his dark lips into a crooked smile.

“Ah, and Mr. Tall, Dark and Broody appears,” Varia remarked at Charles' arrival. Torrential's question would apparently have to await an answer for another time. They all had more pressing matters to attend to for the time being.

"Bout time." Torrential quipped, as Varia finished her sentence.

Varia pulled a small dart out of her hair and flashed it to Charles. “Wolfsbane. One drop of this should bring down even the largest of werewolves. Gypsy alchemy,” she explained before tucking it back behind her ear for safe keeping until they needed it.

Torrential cocked his head at the sight of the dart, an eyebrow arching. "Cool toy. Where'd you get it?"

"The gypsies of course," Varia replied mischievously.

"Interesting. Nimble fingers or brute force?"

"Now now, I can't go giving away all of my secrets now can I?" Varia retorted with a wink. “Shall we then?” she added with a wolfish grin before she turned and departed into the woods. The wolves converged around her as she moved, and before long she had broken into a run, keeping even pace with the ravenous beasts.

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Character Portrait: Maria Raghild Character Portrait: Torrential Character Portrait: Varia Vulpes Character Portrait: Charles Lemarr
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#, as written by Tiko
(Post co-written by NotAFlyingToy, Tiko and Leli)

Varia's route had taken the group deep into the forest to a secluded stretch of land at the base of a tall escarpment well east of either gypsy or castle Vankoryth. While she herself did not know the location of the werewolves, the wolves did. They knew where to tread and where not, and she had let them take the lead. Scattered about the ground were the remnants of a camp, wolf furs thrown about and a burnt out fire evident. A lone figure sat nearby, its back to the trio of vampires. Tilting her head back Varia scented the air, but the wind wasn't in their favor. All she could pick up was the general stench of werewolf clinging to the area. Where Torrential had noted the earlier meeting place was lacking in ambush capabilities, this place was quite the opposite. The escarpment blocked an easy route of escape and offered little in the way of cover.

The wolves converged around Varia, their hackles raised as the ravenous beasts anticipated a much needed meal to come.

Torrential's first instinct proved to be a predictable one, his hands reaching for both of his pistols, twirling them unnecessarily as they went from holster to fist, the sight on them true, pointed towards the figure. His lips curled slightly, revealing the bleach white fangs of an old vampire.

"I've waited for this," he snarled, his voice kissing the lower octaves of his range. "What's the word, Charles? Are we making a smear of it?"

Drawing in a deep breath Charles brought his eyes upwards to empty sky. His hands clenched and opened to his breaths, steadily growing quicker until a cackle chewed through his lips. Yellowed fangs flashed from near black gums as he lurched forward, left foot leading. “Don’t kill it, the nights too short, just -he paused, still facing the new moon- no, perhaps you’re right, it ought to die.”

As the trio of vampires was revving up for a battle, several of the wolves turned about. Something downwind had riled the beast and they stanced off towards the woods beyond. It was from there that four more figured stepped, three hulking werebeasts and the dominating figure of a red haired woman. No moon shone over-head, but it would seem Maria had been hard at work teaching the werewolves to utilize their affliction without the moons aid.

The three werebeasts fanned out behind the woman and despite their burly wolfen forms, it was she who seemed to dominate the group. Silver eyes, fiery red hair and the iron collar about her neck marked her out for who she was. She said nothing though as the werebeasts passed her by and closed in around the trio of vampires. She herself held back for the time being, observing.

“I thought you said there were only two of them...” Varia remarked dryly. Five werewolves, three vampires and only one dart. The odds could be better.

"Two, five, ten. What does it matter? They all bleed." But Torrential's nervous hands belied his brave words, one hand letting the gun slide with a clack back into its holster. In the same hand, he drew a dagger, beginning to move to his right and backwards, slightly, putting more distance between himself and the advancing trio of beasts.

He sensed glorious death, this day.

"Say the word, you two. I'm ready."

The word would never come as the werewolves broke into a run, converging upon the vampires with all the speed and ferocity of their wolvish nature. The wolves that barred their way had the sense fall back and instead they turned to easier prey, the lone figure. Splitting off from the group, the pack surged into motion. Throwing themselves at its shadowy form, snarls and yelps filling the night.

The exact extent of the commotion going on behind the trio was difficult to ascertain with the three werwolves bearing down on them. Varia being both the closest and the least experienced was the first to go down under the bone jarring impact of the foremost werewolf. The impact left her prone and caught beneath the muscled form of the werebeast, its jaws snapping for her face as she worked to hold it at bay long enough to get her hand around one of her blades. The two remaining wolves surged past their brethen to engage Charles and Torrential.

The first contact Charles heard wasn’t his fist to the side of a werewolves head, but the sound of Varia being driven back. He couldn’t for the life of him remember when he’d fought beside others before, even before he’d turned over in his grave. And it was apparent as he blasted forward pounding the skull and snout of the advancing bitch as it tried just to keep a steady footing. Driving it back away from the other two Charles charged forward intending to end the conflict before it found itself tearing through his flesh.

It seemed luck was never on his side though as the werewolf rending upwards with a great claw struck Charles just as he targetted its lower body. Catching the blow in the ribs and avoiding all but a bruise he gripped at the ground, finding a piece of wood from the abandoned camp at reach of his hand. The end was charred black, and the singed bark chipped away as the stick came down on the werewolves head until finally it snapped.

Quickly stepping forward Charles reached out with his left hand grabbing the mutt by the back of its neck and pulling it towards the broken piece of wood that he drove into its neck.

“Filthy mutt!”

The one that charged Torrential was much, much luckier.

As the warrior backpedaled, firing a handful of rounds into the beast, he wobbled on a chunk of errant debris, just enough to send his balance slightly off kilter. It was this advantage that the wolf pressed with a snarl, leaping to his suddenly weakend left side. Twisting and giving up his pistol, Torrential attempted to drive his silver deep into the werewolf's hide, but missed by a mile.

He felt the teeth sink into his shoulder before he registered the miss, and gave a grunt of pain. Readjusting his strategy, he threw himself backwards, freeing up both of his hands as the werewolf attempted to take a second piece out of him, causing the white jaws to snap close to his face. Growling in satisfaction at the dodge, Torrential grabbed the werewolf by the scruff of it's neck, pushing it off and rolling it so that he was suddenly was on top.

Just like that, the advantage was on the Vampire's side. Three quick plunges with the silver, and the warrior leapt up, bleeding and satisfied, looking eagerly for another kill, unable to stop the rolling chuckle that escaped him.

Meanwhile, Varia's own struggle was well underway. Claws racked against her exposed skin but through sheer ferocity of her own, Varia managed to keep the werwolves snapping jaws clear of her face while her free hand finally gained purchase on one of her shorter blades. Drawing it out and across, the silvered steel sliced deeply into the werebeasts throat causing it to rear back in pain. The movement gave her the opening and leverage needed to utilize both hands to drive the blade up through its lower jaw until it was protruding from the top of the beasts skull.

Pushing the twitching carcass off her, Varia regained her footing and wiped the grit and blood from her face. Smoothly drawing one of her remaining blades she tossed it to Charles. The twitching beast at his feet was surprisingly enough, not dead. The wound was debilitating, but rapid regenerative capabilities would have it back into fighting shape in a matter of moments.

“Finish it off!” she yelled.

Maria meanwhile had shed her wolf furs as her body contorted, muscles bulging and sinew tearing while her skeletal structure rearranged itself. Thick russet fur sprouted along her skin and her face elongated into the fierce visage of a wolf, complete with a muzzle full of vicious fangs that dripped heated saliva.

As Maria surged into motion, it was again Varia who was caught in the path of the approaching werewolf due to proximity. Reaching for the dart tucked behind her ear, she quickly noted its absence, apparently knocked loose in her earlier struggle. She had learned her lesson though and rather than take the beast head on, she dove to the side, spotting the fallen dart as she grabbed it up mid tumble. Maria meanwhile had her sights set on another and simply passed Varia by. Charles had been a thorn in her side for months and his presence had brought her rage to a boil within her veins. So eager was she to spill his blood once and for all that she let it drive her into a blind frenzy.

Catching the blade in the same hand that had seconds ago gripped the charred wood Charles pulled up on the thick hair behind the downed beasts head. Running his tongue over his fangs he pulled upwards on the wolf until its neck was level to his eyes, the feet of the werewolf just barely touching ground.

In one fluid motion he drew the short blade across the throat of the wolf, splattering himself with warm blood and crippling the wolf for once and all. Raising the decapitated head to his lips he drew in the blood, grimacing as it swirled into the small cuts that lined the inside of his mouth. A bloody smile crept onto his face just as Maria surged onto him.

As it was a night without moon he was at his strongest, and she at her worst, or so he thought. It was like their first meeting, though reversed. Meeting Maria head on in charge without blade Charles struck upwards with a single motion of his body, arms seeking ribs as they blasted towards the softer parts of Maria. His legs extending fully from a bend as he drove forward and hopefully into the beast.

He wouldn't meet her head on and immediately exchange blows, she wasn't some juvenile whelp to be quelled with a stick and a shiny blade, and Charles wasn't on his own either. Though he had no doubt that his blow would be the final, of this he would make sure, he had no qualms with sharing the spoils of battle. And so at the end of his tackle Charles let one knee fall slightly, his body twisting like a marionette to throw Maria down onto her side while he scurried away from her heavy, soon to be, corpse.

Rising back from the ground, Charles' sheer ferocity had caught even Maria off guard. It was a ferocity of the likes that he had not displayed in their previous altercations. Shaking herself off she rose up onto her rear legs and bellowed out a challenging roar, the sound rolling off the escarpment like thunder.

Many of Charles' blows landed true, but as with their earlier encounters her regenerative capabilities proved impressively efficient. Fractured ribs knitted back together even as she moved and bruises had faded almost as quickly as they were inflicted. Taking a single menacing step towards Charles', Maria's frenzied state left her eyes on him, and him alone.

Torrential's gaze was drawn to the scuffle between Charles and the wolf, the wolf who's gaze had been haunting him; locked onto his across a forest floor, just before he saw her back, retreating through the underbrush. A growl that surprised him with its ferocity ripped through his body, seemingly seeping in through his legs, drawing strength from the core of the earth itself from the noise that he emitted.

His legs were churning, head lowering, and before he knew what exactly had become of his insanity, the thick Vampire warrior was launching himself into a full on tackle at the distracted wolf, the silver dagger still clenched in his white-knuckled grip. His arms gripped around her waist, feeling the rough, russet fur on the side of his face as his momentum carried them both to the floor.

Pressing his advantage, he dug the hilt of his dagger deeper into his palm, trying to get a good grip on it. With a snap of his elbow, he lashed at her abdomen, the short blade not nearly sinking deep enough for his liking. He aimed for a second attack, but the singing pain in his shoulder caused his grip to fade. With a grimace of horror, he felt the gleaming weapon slip out of his grip and fall to the grass.

Taking the opening provided by Torrential, Varia leaped into the fray with a wolfish howl. In a dangerous gambit she drove the dart deeply into the werewolfs back, but the combination of Torrential's knife wound and Varia's actions had the beast more angered than wounded. Knocking Varia back with a wayward blow, Maria leaped clear of the scuffle, colliding with the side of the escarpment about seven feet up. Claws rend into rock and earth as she coiled her muscles and launched herself back down at Torrential with a snarl.

Torrential leaped to his feet as Maria disengaged, and his eyes tracked her leap skyward, his grimace becoming curled in a smile with the thrill of the fight. As the wolf leapt back towards the warrior, Torrential stepped to the side, taking a firm grip of the wolf's neck as it stretched towards him. With a roar, a twirl, and a tightening of his lower muscles, he used her own momentum forward to send her crashing back into the wall. He took the brief respite to snatch up his silver blade, ensuring it was gripped in his good arm.

"Having fun yet, mongrel!?" He roared.

Maria got back to her feet unsteadily shaking her head in a daze at the impact with the escarpment. A deep warning growl rumbled from her throat but another shake of her head betrayed that something wasn't quite right with her. She seemed unsteady on her feet as she backed up against the rocky wall to keep from being surrounded.

Pleased with himself Charles advanced on Maria. The wolfsebane had obviously taken effect, had it not she would have likely already been upon Torrential trying to bash him from side to side while snapping with her shark-like maw. The others may have held some disdain against her, but he’d wrought his into an obsession he could only cure through her death, or better yet, pain. Perhaps killing her wasn’t the solution. His wounds hadn’t lasted him such a short time. The shame and scars both carved into his body still tinged with a fiery pain, however imaginary it was.

Slowly bringing himself to within a short reach of Maria Charles let himself be absorbed by his thoughts, allowing the complete darkness of the night to grow and fester within him. From his shadow an ooze seemed to grow. It was this that made a blade unecessary for him as he needn’t use special metals to kill a beast when he could simply rip it apart, bit by bit. The gas though was not capable of much more than to numb the eyes and cause smell to falter. Toxic in odour it was akin to heaving deep breaths of rotted eggs, feces and corspes all blended together into a rotted mess. With every step this vile substance grew, swirling it’s way around Charles until his entire body, shadow and even the trail he left was a great body of black smoke.

The thick stench of Charles' miasma overtook Maria's senses. It was so very similar to the stench of decay she had grown to loathe and despise. Fragmented memories assaulted her, memories of tortured screams and of flesh rotting clean to bone beneath the administrations of the Lessard family. They were loathsome creatures of the same sort that stood before her now. It had her nostrils flaring angrily, adding blind rage to her already disorientated state. Meanwhile, Varia had regained her footing and armed herself once more. Between the three vampires, Maria was suitably pinned down, her back to the wall as the trio closed in.

A deep laugh found freedom from the smoke, but only for an instant as it shot forward carrying a short step behind it Charles with fangs barred and claws ready to reave through fur and flesh into the juicy bits of Maria. With no desire to end her suffering here Charles aimed to torture the wolf as much as possible for the night, and perhaps longer if the others permitted.

Okay, the smoking shit? Freaky. But Torrential could look past it, seeing as the source of the smoking, rotting, disgusting mess was on his side of this particular encounter. With a flaring of nostrils, the warrior was reminded of why he didn't usually work with other of his own kind.

Well, with a few exceptions. Varia came to mind.

Rolling his neck on big shoulders, Torrential prepared for a bit of a bloodbath. Unlike his stinky partner in this hunt, Torrential wasn't too fond of torture. He grew impatient. He was more a fan of a straight, simple death, and he prepared for it now. Keeping his joints loose, he watched the big werewolf with a critical eye, looking for a weakness.

Just as Charles lunged foreward, as did the big Vampire, but from the opposite side. Moving quickly, he thrust the dagger from low to high in an arc, his target; the ribcage of his opponent.

A sweeping back handed blow knocked Torrential's swing wide, but that left her open for Charles' onslaught. Fangs and claws tore at flesh, but the burly beast wasn't down yet. With a bodily heave, she drove the pair back from her, slashing almost blindly with a forearm to keep them at bay. The wounds inflicted by Charles continued to heal over almost as quickly as he could inflict them, but the ragged knife wound across her ribcage remained. The wolfsbane was making quick work of her and a shudder ran through her body as her bestial form began to recede. Waring against the affects of the toxins in her blood, Maria seemed caught somewhere between woman and beast as she struggled to regain her stronger form.

Torrential had slight difficulty recovering from the ferocity of the backhand, but before long he was reset in his offensive position, and he liked what he saw. The mongrel was dazed, stunned; looking like a moth approaching a flame. That shit that Varia seemed to carry seemed to do the trick.

Switching the knife to a reverse grip, he darted in, plunging the dagger into her ribcage, utilizing the full force of his elbow.

Half-formed and twisted hands closed around Torrential's own, but Maria's claws and fur continued to recede, leaving only pale skin behind. With the knife buried between her ribs, her breath was ragged and labored, a tinge of blood upon her lips. Gone was the beast, and it its wake was simply a woman, battered and defeated. The pain and fear reflected in her eyes betrayed her realization of that.

With a grin, the dark glasses met the woman's delicious expression with a nod, as if to say yes, that just happened. As much as he could in her iron grip, he twisted the knife further. With the scraping of metal against bone, Torrential's efforts drew a grunt of pain out of her and a fresh trickle of blood from her lips.

Charles had let Torrential lead for a moment, and saw that he was right to do so. Revoking the noxious smoke he was upon Maria, no longer a beast, in a second. He looked at her face, the blood trailing along her lip and couldn't help but to enjoy the scene with a smile that, under any other circumstances, would have seem terribly misplaced. But he wasn't content to merely watch as someone else took away her life.

"Enough!" He shouted to his companion in at least this nights hunt. "Why kill her when you can prolongue her misery, have her crumble beneath your feet for more than a mere moment?"

Varia scowled from the side, lowering her weapon. "Just kill her and be done with it!" she retorted.

Torrential gazed at the werewolf for a long second, allowing her pain and fear to wash over his senses. He smiled. "So unfortunate for you that I'm not in the mood to start a feud, Mongrel. Else I would kill you where you stand, and Smoky the bear wouldn't have his fun."

With another wrench, he let the knife pop free, turning away from his prize. "Besides. There's another wolf to hun-"

He paused, straightening, his head whipping from left to right in rapid movements. "Where the fuck's the last one?"

With another grunt, Maria fell to her knees, head bowed. One bloody hand reached up to grip at the rocky escarpment as if even now she would make to rise, but the strength just wasn't there.

Varia on the other hand seemed thoroughly disgusted at the decision to not kill the werewolf. Turning away in ire, she threw her weapon down upon the ground with a scowl. As long as Maria lived she was a threat to the Lessard's, but there was little she could do at the moment without Torrential backing her on the matter. Besides, the wolfsbane would kill her sure enough.

Turning to shout at Varia for demanding the death of what he'd worked so hard and waited so long to capture Charles' attention was taken away by the words of Torrential.

"You sent your wolves after it didin't you? Did they do nothing but lead us into an ambush?"

"Some ambush." Torrential muttered.

"One nonetheless." Charles snapped in retort.

Varia waved her hand towards the surrounding ground that was littered with the broken bodies of wolves. “They did their purpose in finding the place. Wolves don't fair well against werewolves.”

Torrential was inclined to agree. "All's well that end's well, Charlie. Though another notch in my belt would've been nice."

He bared his teeth in a feral smile.

"You'll have your notch, but I'll have my fun before then." Turning to Maria Charles watched over her as she grabbed at the rocks of the escarpment. He had no room for her at his temporary home, and was in no position to take her leagues upon leagues away, not without more wolfesbane at least. So until then he would take her to the castle, chain her in the dungeons and forget to mention her to the clan.

cron