Seraph sat on top of an old forgotten warehouse staring out over the star light sea. Few would have been able to make out anything in the darkness, but Seraph's eyes could use the little light that was given as see with it. It was an ability he called infravision. It was a vampire ability he had which made hunting at night easier.

Seraph was not out that night to hunt, however. It had been almost a week since he had given into the temptations of curse, and the thirst was beginning to set in again like it always did. His throat was beginning to itch and his stomach was getting warm. In a few nights it would no doubt be burning, aching for blood. But tonight he was able to ignore it hoping that when the thirst grew strong again he would be able to overcome it once and for all.

There were not many other people out that night. Seraph watched over the few from his perch. They were mostly thugs trying to find entrances to sealed docks and warehouses to make off with some pricey goods, or smuggles dealing their goods under the cover of darkness.

Seraph ignored them mostly focusing more on the more peaceful innocent creatures that prowled around. He would see a raccoon or fox scamper around here and there, or he would hear an owl hoot from a nearby roof top. His favorite creatures to watch were the bats however. He felt a strange bond with them as he watched them swooping about catching flies and other insects with their little feet.

Seraph wondered what it must be like to be a free innocent creature like a bat. He would never have to worry about his thirst again, or that some holy knight would one day come to send him to hell. The only fear that he would have to know would be that of having loosing his grip while he was asleep, or at least, he thought they must fear that. The vampire knew he would be scare to sleep while hanging from some rafters.

As Seraph sat there watching his breath fog up before him, he pondered whether other vampires went through the same struggles as he did or felt the same way about different things. The only vampire he had ever met was Mordecai, and he had been to afraid to ask him about such things.

((OOC: sorry, this topic is private :xmassmile: ))

Valerik rushed through the city, making sure to keep a fast paced walk as so the guards would not notice his frenzied attempt to find his prey. He had an unnatural craving, what some might consider disturbing. He had a craving for blood. That was because a spawn of night, creature of shadow. Valerik was a vampire, spawned from another vampire, bitten in spite of the fact he was an innocent citizen of Estolad.

Like most new vampires, Valerik had been very ashamed of his curse. Now, he saw it as a blessing. He enjoyed the strength, power, and thirst that came with his 'curse'. He actually enjoyed the hunt, the warm blood soothing his urges to hunt and kill. Valerik was a true vampire, one who enjoyed his powers, one who enjoyed what it truly meant to be undead. Now, Valerik was in the midst of a blood craze, thirsty for what he lived upon.

At last, he came to a dock, empty except for the few bandits and thugs searching for an entrance into a warehouse, hoping to find some loot or cash inside. Valerik gave in to his impatient nature, not willing to find a wandering beggar or late night walker alone in an alley. He drew his lightning blade, the electricity licking up towards his face, eager to kill a foe. Three bandits were surrounding the entrance, mumbling slightly to each other. Valerik licked his lips, in anticipation of the blood that would soon be spilt all over the docks.

Valerik charged in, in disregard to any planning or tactics that he could of possibly used. His blade sunk deep into the chest of the first, unlucky and unaware bandit, piercing him straight through his chest. The bandit let out a scream, only to have it cut out short from death. He slumped on Valerik's blade, blood dripping on the ground. The vampire drew his blade out, returning it to his side. The bandit fell to the ground, a sickening thump echoing throughout the docks.

Now, the other two bandits were aware of Valerik's presence. They both drew longswords, each with hand guards on the ends. These were pirate blades. Valerik lunged, his blade sizzling from the energy being exerted from the lightning. The bandit rose his blade to counter Valerik's. The two blades collided, the lightning surging through the vampire's blade. Valerik pressed hard on the pirate's blade, causing the bandit to recoil away. During that temporary opportunity, Valerik slashed, cutting a large gash in his stomach. He toppled backwards, landing against the warehouse he had previously been inspecting.

Valerik turned, facing his other opponent. The pirate had swung his blade while Valerik had not been looking. It was to late for the vampire to dodge now. The sword cut his arm, creating a fairly large gash across his entire arm. The vampire roared in pain. Valerik immediately counter attacked, slicing the man's neck. He clutched at his wound, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Valerik let his body fall, heading over to the first dead pirate.

He descended, plunging his fangs deep into his neck. He let the blood flow, sucking at least two pints out of the man. Once Valerik was satisfied, he turned around, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He turned, seeing a man sitting atop an empty warehouse. Valerik gave him a puzzled look, wiping up all the rest of the blood as he possibly could. "What did you see?" he asked, projecting his voice to him.

Seraph was about to get up and leave until he saw he heard an alarming noise below him. He quickly jumped to his feet and saw a fight below him. Although outmatched, one man quickly took out three while only sustaining a single wound himself.

Seraph thought for a brief moment about jumping into the scuffle, but he did not know the circumstances. The three laying dead were clearly bandits, so the other man must be a guard or something he told himself. This was something that did not concern him; it was best to just stay out of it.

Seraph continued to watch from his perch, however, wondering what the man wanted. He was extremely shocked when he saw the man sink his teeth into one of the bandit’s neck. A faint gasp left his lips as he watched another vampire sucking blood from its victim. Someone else would have been repulsed by the sight, but as a fellow vampire Seraph could only feel sympathy in knowing what the thirst was like.

Seraph wanted to jump down and say something, but he doubted the other vampire would like that very much. He knew what he was like when he was in the middle of a meal. He knew what effects the blood could have on ones mind. It was best not to interfere with the beast during dinner. Still, he was stuck to the spot just watching the gory scene.

When the bloodbath was finished the vampire wiped his and mouth and looked up. He eyes came to a rest on Seraph. "What did you see?" He called to his uninvited spectator. The question would have sent shivers down the spine of a mortal, but Seraph was unafraid of his kindred.

Grabbing the edges of his Cloak of Batkind, Seraph jumped from the warehouse and glided down to the vampire. His landing was a little rough since he rarely tried to fly with his cloak. After cursing at the ground, he regained his composure and turned to the other vampire. He stood up tall and proud showing off his slender body. “Hello,” Seraph said politely as if he had not witnessed the killings only a few moments earlier. He spoke as if speaking to someone of importance not some undead creature of the night, “I did not mean to startle you. I was just out and about tonight, and I happened to be watching the ocean under the dim night sky. I am also a vampire, so you have nothing to fear from me. Tell me, does the thirst ever become easier to control?”

Valerik's eyes followed the man as he grabbed the edges of his cloak and float down gently. Gently, until that is he hit the ground. After a rough landing and several curses, he gathered his composure and began to speak. “Hello, I did not mean to startle you. I was just out and about tonight, and I happened to be watching the ocean under the dim night sky. I am also a vampire, so you have nothing to fear from me. Tell me, does the thirst ever become easier to control?”

Valerik was very confused at the first part of the statement, but as he continued, it made more and more sense. At first, he thought some sick, demented peasant was talking to him, but after further conversation, he realized he was talking to another creature of the night. Obviously, he was a very young vampire, already asking questions to Valerik. He merely chuckled in response.

Valerik knew the answer to that question all to well. His hunger for blood became stronger and stronger, like a child learning how to push all his parents buttons. He pitted himself against friend and foe alike just to alleviate the pain of the thirst that he so often felt. If he had gone without blood for some time, then he would go on what he called 'a blood craze'.

A blood craze in his mind was were the only thing he could think about was blood. All his decision making capabilities seemed to vanish, and his reckless nature seemed to inflate, almost more than a narcissist's ego. He considered himself a beast, a hungry dog that had a piece of rare meat revealed in front of him. Of course, there would be no stopping him.

Valerik wiped his face in exaggerated exasperation, "Does the thirst for blood get easier to control?" again, he couldn't help but laugh, "It merely increases, growing like a starving dog," Valerik said grimly. "Only a few decades ago, I could last months without blood," he told him, talking as if decades were as short as seconds, "But now, it seems that I can only last three days without feeding,"

He shook his head, almost in disappointment of himself. "I can tell you are a young vampire. Tell me, how many years has it been since you turned?" he asked. He was slightly surprised, even impressed, how the vampire had been able to show his face. When Valerik had turned, he could not show himself for years, almost decades. He was very reclusive. Yet this young vampire was very open. Valerik smirked at the comparison. "I am Valerik. What is your name?" he asked with an air of politness.

((Italics indicate Seraph's thoughts))

Seraph’s head dropped as Valerik told him he the thirst would get worst. The words were not what he was hoping to hear. He was searching for hope, something to help him through this storm. He felt queasy in his stomach. Was he just being ignorant thinking he could control this curse that plagued him? Was he doomed to live a life of sin and inner turmoil? He had wanted to hear that there was hope, but it was clear for the elder vampire that their race was not worthy of such holy feelings. Their race was the cursed of Raku; how could he think there would be any hope?

“I… I am Seraph,” the young vampire replied introducing himself, “you are right; I am still young. It has not even been a year since I was turned. I guess I am just being ignorant of my own race, huh? Is it silly for me to search for hope? Is this how it starts for all vampires, trying to hold on to some shred of being from our past lives? I still curse the god Raku for this disease; I suppose that will stop as well.

"Eventually, all I once was will die, and all that I am will be of the night. I still fear the darkness and what it has done to my body and soul. I can feel it grabbing a hold of me, pulling me down. Will it never cease? I suppose I am searching for something that I cannot obtain. I suppose I am foolish for even trying. Is there no peace for me?”

Seraph stood there watching Valerik. He hadn’t felt cold all night, but suddenly he couldn’t stop shivering. Chills raced down his spine settling in his knees. He held his breathe as he waited for a response. He desperately needed to hear good news; although, on the inside he knew that there was nothing this vampire could offer him. Part of him thought he was looking at his future self. How long would it take to become like this, a month maybe a year? It all scared him. He did not want to surrender to his fate, to death. He knew he was already dead; his life and all its luxuries were gone. He was of the dead now, cursed to walk the night with all the other horrors of the world and never rest.

“I… I am Seraph,” introduced the vampire. He began to shake, convulsing slightly. Valerik's somewhat amused attitude quickly vanished. "Is there no peace for me?” Asked the young vampire. Valerik hung his head low, shame overflowing him. He had been ignorant of his own past. A flood of memories swarmed back to him. Immediately, all the misery and despair of his past returned, giving him a sick feeling to his stomach. Valerik's long hair draped his face. He was hoping that Seraph wasn't able to see the look of shame in Valerik's face.

"Peace?" Valerik asked, a tone of confusion coming through his voice. "Is there ever going to be peace for vampires?" he asked. 'He must know the answer,' thought the elder vampire. Even Valerik knew that answer in his younger days. The sinking feeling of constant fear and despair would always be there. During his beginnings of a vampire, he had hoped for a normal life, yet in the pit of his being, he knew that there was no hope. He would always be rejected, hunting by night, destroying his foes with his unnatural speed and strength.

But a dark peace had crept into the vampire's life. His conscious had shred away with the ages, each feeding becoming easier and easier. It took centuries for Valerik to fully accept what he was, to embrace it. He hadn't encountered many other adult vampires, he was unsure whether or not it took the same amount of time for other vampires, or was it just his way of coping. He sighed, finally coming up with an appropriate answer. He finally brought his head back up, brushing his hair from in front of his face to behind his neck.

"There is no peace, no peace for vampire's," he said bluntly, taking no care for the young vampire's emotions. "We will always be hated, hunted," he said, memories coming to him. When Valerik was an amateur of hunting, he could recall fleeing constantly, paladins and guards, vigilantes and fearful peasants chasing him away from their homes and cities. "Only acceptance," Valerik said. "You will only experience acceptance for what you are. And then will 'peace' come to you," he said grimly.

"I spent the first centuries of my life fleeing, hunting only after months of starvation. Accept what you are now, and you will see how easy the transformation from man to beast is," he said, keeping the same grim and dismal tone of voice. "If you do not accept your destiny as a spawn of night now, then you will experience the most true form of misery. I have been tortured and beaten like ways you couldn't imagine, merely because I refused what I was. If you accept now, slowly your conscious will fade away, and feeding will merely be a simple task. Accept what you are Seraph. We are superior to mortals. You will not die because of disease or age. Embrace your life through death," Valerik said, remembering the night he had accepted his fate.

Seraph could not take hearing his elder speaking. His heart was torn by his harsh words. He did not want to be dark, but he found himself in a position where he had no choice. He yearned to live among society as a beloved and respected person as he once had been. If he could, he would use all of his power and resource to fight the darkness, but now he had been made one of their numbers. It seemed fate was twisted and cruel. The young vampire wanted to scream at the top of his voice proclaiming his hatred of the stupid race that haunted him, but he refrained from doing so in the presence of another vampire. It took everything the creature could muster to keep himself from crying and appearing weak.

Seraph shook is head showing his displeasure with the words of the other vampire. He head swung low avoiding eye contact. His eyes fixed on the dead bodies that were sprawled across the ground. They looked so young, and yet, they were now dead. Fate had been cruel to take the young vampire pup at such a young age. He had constantly cursed the gods for his quick death, but now he found himself amidst creatures who constantly destroyed those you were young. He had even taken a few young lives himself. His heart hurt because he knew he had become everything he hated, and it was only going to get worse as his death grew stronger. Many more lives were sure to be taken, and perhaps, he would eventually grow numb to killing. The thought sent shivers down the pup's spine.

When Seraph finally raised his head to look at the Valerik, he was filled with anger at himself at the elder. He saw what he would become in only a few years time if not months if he did not find a way to correct his wicked heart. It is said that men live in total depravity, but the young vampire had never been so aware of his own depravity until his death. He had to find a way to stop the disease from growing. He had to find retribution. No matter what he had to keep himself from throwing his lot in with the forces that formed Raku's black army. He would never surrender himself to his enemies.

Seraph's body began to shake with hatred. His elder has said little to set him off, but the pup's fear of his future had prompted his rash actions. His eyes glared at Valerik desiring to strike his head clean of his shoulders. He drew his sword taking a few steps back. Although he said nothing, his actions were clearly a sign of hostility. The pup was not afraid to of being destroyed in battle. He had already died; how much worse could total annihilation be?

Valerik crossed his arms tight across his chest, observing the reaction of Seraph. He was obviously not ready to get the truth, to understand that he would never be able to be normal. The curse that was inflicted to both of them would never end, it wouldn't end until their life ended, whether by their own blade or that of an over zealous paladin. Their life would always be stalking the night, in search of prey. Consciousness would only burden them, create a barrier that they would have to overcome every time they fed.

Valerik sighed, looking up at Seraph, beginning to speak. But the fellow vampire drew his blade, shaking with hatred. It seemed that the truth the elder vampire had spoke crushed the moral of this young pup. Valerik shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him in ragged intervals. He drew his own blade, lightning convulsing down the steel. "You dare pit yourself against your own kind?" asked Valerik with a sarcastic tone. There was never any such thing of sticking up for your kind, whether it be by occupation, race or creed. The expression 'honor among thieves,' was merely a cold term to trick the younger.

Valerik even hated vampires, at least certain ones. Or more specifically, a certain vampire. The man who had turned him centuries ago. Valerik even growled at the thought of the despicable fiend, hating the man for what he did. It didn't even matter that Valerik was now blessed by his 'curse'. The vampire who had turned him was ultimately responsible for the death of his one true love, and the death of many others Valerik had killed to get enough blood to survive. The vampire would never forgive the one who turned him. Valerik then began to wonder whether if Sereaph felt the same way he did to his corrupter.

Valerik understood exactly what it felt like to be turned into a creature of the night. That was exactly why he was very brutal in his feedings. Survival of one of his victims was not an option. The misery and pain that a vampire would endure could only be handled by a truly special person. Special usually meant slightly crazy, deranged, psycho. Wanting to become undead was a despicible desire. Even Valerik never wanted to become a vampire, and yet he was considerably lucky to not of committed suicide in the many years of torture he endured.

Valerik stepped back slightly, now smiling completely. "Lets see how powerful you are, youngling," said the elder mockingly. He focused his mana from his heart, his unbeating core. The energy rushed from its origin, and down his outstretched arm, accumulating in the form of a orb. The orb cackled and hissed, growing larger and larger. As soon as the magical ball of lightning reached full size, Valerik released the energy, sending the chain lightning straight towards his foe.

Valerik's words cut deep into Seraph's heart. Did he truly dare to step out against his own kind? He had developed a deep hatred for being a vampire, but did that mean he was ready to cast his lot against the only creature who understood his pain? Tears streaked down the pup's face. He had never realized how alone he was. He did truly despise the one who had turned him, and from what he could tell, this vampire was no different. "I will destroy this curse! I will not let it spread. I will destroy darkness with darkness. My curse will become my sword," the young vampire's hand tightened around his blade as he prepared to attack.

But Seraph had to wait his turn. Valerik was quick to make his own assault. He seemed pleased that he would get to see the pup's power. His strange power baffled the younger vampire. He did not use darkness which was the trait of their race, but instead used electricity. This was an unexpected twist in events, but it did nothing to subdue the pup's strong will to fight.

Seraph's rage grew towards his own race. He had never felt such strong desires in life or death. It was his vampiric nature that his hatred fed off of. His anger towards vampires was fueled by his own vampirism. The pup had never been able to draw the fullness of his powers out, but as hatred covered his heart, his dark nature took over unleashing all of his powers. He twisted and convulsed as powers from the pits of hell swelled within his body. Liquid fire spread through his veins, and his eyes began to glow bright red. "If you wish to see my power, then I will show it to you," he said in a demonic voice that was not his own.

Seraph threw hand forward to diffuse Valerik's spell as the elder vampire released his lightning. The bolts died away before ever reaching their target. The pup grinned a twisted smile and charged forward with his cursed speed that was gifted to all vampires. "Die!" He shouted at his foe as he threw his dark blade forward trying to cut the fiend through his midsection.

Valerik scowled as his lightning merely dissipated away, deflected by his foe. "I will destroy this curse! I will not let it spread. I will destroy darkness with darkness. My curse will become my sword," said Seraph, his blade held steadily in his hand. The elder vampire was confused by this youngling, not understanding how such a hatred could drive to using their most hated possession as a weapon. Although vampirism was medically described as a 'curse', Valerik defiantly had an opposite view. The darkness that veiled him was no doubt a gift, superior to any mortals strength.

"If you wish to see my power, then I will show it to you," said the young vampire with a demonic voice, the inner strength and unholy energy bursting from him. His eyes began to glow red, his hatred materializing in him. Valerik's own disgust began to bubble, his black eyes glaring at his opponent, his lightning blade gripped tightly in his hands. The elder vampire had not encountered many other vampires before, or at least in a hostile experience. But this youngling seemed to embrace every dark secret of his body, utilizing every pore of his being, every thought, every emotion to his advantage. It seemed to Valerik that he may of made a mistake provoking such an unstable, powerful vampire.

"Die!" cried out Seraph, charging Valerik, using his unnatural speed granted by his curse. Valerik brought his own blade to his midsection, its steel portion diagonal. The two blades collided, exaggerated sparks flying from each blade, primarily from Valerik's own electrically enchanted blade. The vampire could feel his feet sliding backwards from the pressure of his foe. 'I can't have a deadlock!" exclaimed Valerik, knowing that this youngling was able to harness most of his energy, and was more than likely stronger and faster than Valerik. Before the elder vampire could make a strategic standpoint, he had to determine every aspect of his foe. Was this youngling a magician? Could he counter Valerik's magic? The elder vampire was already able to tell he was obviously powerful.

Spells and enchantments would have to be his only option. He jumped back, getting distance between him and Seraph. He landed several feet backwards, his graceful agility again part of his undead nature. Then Valerik pulsed his energy from his core, sending it out of his body. The energy came out of him, the bluish substance having a placid appearance. It fluctuated around him, but stayed around his body. The spell was electricity resistance, an aura that would allow him to be unaffected by any lightning.

Valerik then outstretched his hand, similar to before. He gathered his energy yet again, sending it down his arm. But this time, the aura didn't gather in an orb, waiting to be released, but rather shot around, the lightning darting around insanely. The lightning bolt zipped in random directions, bouncing precariously everywhere.