Lucian....

Lucian....

Postby Lucian » Mon Feb 03, 2003 3:56 am

The weary traveller had wandered into the mine, hoping to find a safe place to stay, hidden from the hot sun. It was high noon, and the rays of heat had already made his brow form with beadlets of sweat. Wiping the moisture from his forehead, the man lit one of the torches near the mouth of the mine, and pulled it from it's sconce before moving forward.

The mine smelled dank, as if it hadn't been used for it's intended purpose for many years. The traveller idly wondered why that was, and hoped to himself a bear hadn't wandered in to make this abandoned mine it's own home ...

Shaking the fear of animals and cave-in from his mind, the man kept moving forward, until he reached a fork in road. The traveller wondered if he should camp here, close to the entrance, or press on. There was something about this mine that was calling to him, appealing to his sense of adventure. In the distance, down the path to the left, the man could see a faint light. Tip-toeing forward, cautiously, the man moved closer towards the room with the light. As he made it to the mouth of the cavern, he noticed a large, dead-end room which seemed to be set up like a study or a small library.

The traveller wasn't really that tired, and this discovery had peeked his interest, so he decided to have a look around for a while, and cautiously moved into the room further... Lining the walls were book cases with many leather-bound tomes encased into each of them, filling up each shelf to the maximum compacity. The man wondered who would take up residence in a mine, and what all the books were for. Noticing a small work table in the corner, the man made his way towards it and noticed a pile of papers with writings inked upon them. The language was unknown to the man, so he decided to ignore the stack of scrolls. He was about to turn away, but he saw another leather-bound book on the desk and his curiosity got the better of him. Sitting on the stool in front of the work table, the man slowly grazed his finger tips along the cover before opening the book. The first few pages were barren of writing, and the man was about to close the book before flipping the page once more. Upon this page, the beginnings of a journal seemed to start.

Unlike the stack of papers, this writing was in a common tongue, written in a strange, red substance, and the Goldylocks-like traveller decided to read forth. Obviously, the traveller had no respect for other people's property, for as he began to read, he could easily tell that this was some sort of personal writing... the man concentrated on reading in the dim light, becoming lost within the pages of the book........

I remember little about my life before my change. All that my memory tells me is that I was once a mage of promising skill who grew up within the Romanian province of Moldavia. As a boy of about 12, I was shipped to the mountainous region of Transylvania, within the dangerous ranges of the Carpathians....

I was shipped to one of the chantries of the Hermetic Order. I was to become a mage, and return home to protect my family's barony from the warlords that ravaged the land, when I had the skill to do so. Little did I know at the time, that this would be the last time I would set foot within the village of my birth ever again. Never again would I see my family or my friends. I do not remember my birth name, for over the years I have gone by many names and titles... but now, I call myself, 'Lucian..' A common name within the land of my birth...

I remember growing up there; they were my family - my brothers, my fathers, my friends, my associates. I studied hard and with every new spell that I gained, I revelled in the power that it brought me. Even at a young age, I was in love with the power that it gave to me. The freedom to wield magicks that could save or destroy the world, depending upon the caster's whims.

That is all I remember, and then I was changed. I had heard stories of devils that dwelled in darkness inhabiting our chantries, but I considered it nothing more than peasant superstition. Little did I know just how wrong I really was....

I had been chosen by the Clan Tremere, for my promising magickal abilities and my thirst for knowledge and power. Upon that day, my life - or unlife as it is now - would be changed forever.....
________________________________________________
The traveller leaned back from the book momentarilly to take this all in. He couldn't help but chuckle though. A vampire? Was the writer of this book some sort of deranged lunatic? Vampires, for heaven's sake, were a myth. Just as the writer of this book once said himself ... peasant superstitions meant to scare naughty children into being good.

Shaking his head slowly, still snickering a bit, the stranger turned the page and continued to read from the journal.....

After my embrace, I had encountered the same problem that others of my new clan had at their change - the practice of our Hermetic Magick was no longer capable to our vampiric blood. At first, I was in despair about this. What is the good of living forever if one cannot seek the knowledge and power to use our time to the best of our abilities? However, I undoubtedly had much to learn.

During my embrace, My lifeless corpse was forced to drink a goblet filled with the mixture of our elder's blood. I would come to find later that this was a way of keeping us in line. For now I was one step closer to being blood-bound to my masters. For this, I know not who my true sire was, but considered them all to be my teachers, and I to be their pupil. I was taught the secret Tremere discipline of thaumaturgy - or, in essence, "working miracles."

I was suprised at all the power and the different paths that this form of "blood magick"( as I was soon to learn it was called) could easily occupy the centuries to come. For truly, this blood magick could undoubtedly be endless in it's paths. I hurriedly ate it up, practicing and learning as much as I could from my group of sires.

Some years later, the chantry that we inhabited was attacked by mortal mages of another order, and we were sent into fierce battle with them. The battle between Magus and Mage shook the very foundation of the chantry and it collapsed upon us as the first rays of dawn peered over the pinnacle of the Carpathians. Many on both sides were lost, but being buried under the rubble had saved the remaining Tremere from the burning rays of the sun. We stayed beneath the rubble until nightfall, and slowly dug our way out.

We were ambushed. The mages stayed there to wait for us. They were smart enough to know that we weren't dead, but sleeping within the mound of wood, brick and mortar. We were unprepared and injured, and we were thoroughly defeated. The last remaining Tremere, myself included, ran like the wind, however we were systematically hunted down like dogs and murdered by the rival chantry.

I know not how many of the survivors lasted. For all I know, I may be the last remaining survivor of the massacre. I care little to find out. I was chased for many months, leaving Transylvania, and the country of Romania as well, doing my best to outwit, and stay one step ahead of my pursuers, but they finally cornered me within the walled city of Prague. I fought for my very existence, and sent many a head flying off the shoulders of my assailants.

But they were too many for me. The mages tried to cast a spell on me, but I had another trick up my sleeve. Allowing my knowledge of thaumaturgy to help me, I had called forth the flames of their torches to explode. As they were casting the spells, they scrambled to safety, but their spell was changed, and a portal opened behind me. I was near Torpor, and the expenditure of blood had caused me to stagger and fall within the portal. It sealed shut behind me and I was trapped in the land that I now occupy. Truly, a twist of fate, but I am not certain if it was for better or worse....
______________________________________________

(Continued with the reply...)
Blood is black in the moonlight -
When I pierced the heart of my bethrothed.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
Her undead gaze bringing ire upon me.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
I held her head aloft to my grim gods.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
And ever I am thwarted by the dark.

Bal-Sagoth - Thwarted by the Dark (Blade of the Vampyre Hunter)
User avatar
Lucian
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Posts: 41
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 11:59 pm
Location: Clearwater, Florida

(Continued from main)

Postby Lucian » Mon Feb 03, 2003 4:09 am

The traveller shook his head a little once again while flipping the page. The author of this story must be some sort of bard of great skill to be able to tell such a story. The man continued to read, taking off the cavalier hat from his head that he used to shield his brow from the sun. Again the man chuckled, becoming more and more infatuated with the story in front of him.

I awoke from torpor in this strange land, looking up towards a mysterious face. I would later come to find that his name was Varian, and like me, he was a vampire - though of a different clan. He helped me to get situated within this land, and to learn the customs and the lay-out. In gratitude, I became a member of his guard, and an advisor - but most importantly, his friend. I learned quickly that he was the prince of this realm, and there would come many-a-time that I would do his dirty work. I was his assassin, as well, murdering his enemies from afar, with the usage of thaumaturgy.

I served him for many years, then one evening, he simply up and left, leaving me alone within this strange land. I decided that I would do things my own way for now on, and spent many months searching for tomes and scrolls that would sate my hunger for knowledge, and perhaps a way to escape this land and return home to seek vengeance on those that had trapped me here.

But I soon became bored, and the medicority of this mundande, back-water town caused me to lock myself away within an abandoned mine on the side of a mountain, within a state of torpor.
_______________________________________________

The man jumped back when he read that. Within this very mine, perhaps? Instinctively, the man's head began to turn on his shoulders, looking left to right, looking to see if someone was in the room with him. He inhaled deeply, then chuckled once more, trying to calm his nerves. How silly he was to be taken into a simple story like that. With a soft sigh, embarrased with himself, the traveller turned the page of the leather-bound journal and read on...

Within this state of torpor, I had many of what I thought were strange dreams. As I lay within the dirt of the mine, my mind was visited by many a demon promising me great power - more then I currently had - in exchange for service. For many months, I tried to ignore the constant visitations by the demons, but each time they visited me, their offer increased and soon, I must admit, started to peak my curiosity. Power, in exchange for what?

They soon told me that they needed an able-body to do their work for them here in the physical plane, where they cannot come, for they had no bodies themselves. In exchange for my service, they said, they would deliver unto me the secrets of a new type of thaumaturgy - dark thaumaturgy. I had heard rumors of the infernal as I was growing within my unlife, and I heard whispered rumors that some of the elders were infernalists themselves. I humored them, asking what kind of service I was to do... what they told me didn't shock me, but rather intrigued me...

They told me that I was to deliver souls to them. To embrace those I thought worthy of serving them within this plane of existence, as well as in hell upon the brink of apocalypse. I was to sacrifice as many of the living as I could to them, and in exchange, they would deliver their dark thaumturgy unto me. Suffice to say, I succumbed to the temptation and promise of power. Power and blood, it seemed like such a one-sided deal that I was a fool not to jump at such a chance. I accepted their offer, and soon my mind was plunged into the inner workings of the infernal. I saw things that no mortal man had ever dared to dream, and most cainites had ever had the opportunity to see. I saw things which I now know were meant to trick me into servitude, but I cared little. My kind were already cursed by God, what more could these demons take from me?

I awoke from my torpor with a new lease on un-life, and feverishly went about the tasks at hand. Mastering the dark thaumaturgy, and learning the new paths the demons bestowed upon me after I was well on my way in my original path. Then, I began to take my victims, one by one, travellers who walked the forests, merchants travelling from one town to the next, peddling their goods... It was simple. I did not even mind the servitude. My whole un-life, I had been serving in one way or the other. First clan Tremere, then Varian, and now these demons... and each time I served these masters, I was given some sort of new power or freedom I did not enjoy before. 'Twas truly a remarkable deal... albeit one with the devil.
______________________________________________

The traveller smiled to himself. Truly he must meet this man, this person that wrote the story, for he was certainly a fabulous and articulate story teller. The man started to flip the pages, and realized that there were more blank pages. No! How could this be? The story couldn't just end like this! There had to be more. He continued to frantically flip the pages, and upon the very last, indeed there was more writing. The man squinted in the torch light and continued on...

This is the end of my story thus far. But I must confess, that I hope you know your foolishness for reading this book... For now you know of my past, and your ignorance has brought you to the threshold of hell itself, stranger. For you must realize by now that you truly lurk upon the grounds of a vampire, and are deep within the heart of his lair. As you've been spending your time reading this manuscript, you have failed to keep track of time. For now as you read this very last page, you see that the sun is close to setting...and I shall awaken and seek more than you care to offer as payment for trespassing on this infernal ground.... You have fallen into my trap, stranger. Pray now, for it will do you no good later...
_____________________________________________

As the traveller read this, all blood flushed from his face and he felt gravely ill. He quickly stood from the stool in front of the work bench and moved from the cavern. If this was some sort of practical joke, the traveller definitely did not find it to be amusing. As he moved down the dark cavern leading towards the exit, he felt an eerie chill run down his spine. He began to run, and he quickly saw the exit and began to sprint as fast as he could, for dear life. Though, just as he was about to reach the mouth to salvation, a wall of green flames enveloped the entrance way, blocking further passage to the outside world.

The torches on the wall began to illuminate with the same green fire, as well, and the traveller frantically looked for another means of escape just as a cold wind passed through the tunnel. And there the vampire, Lucian, stood behind the traveller - smiling as he spoke, "Welcome to my home, stranger... you have trespassed foolishly within my domain, and for this intrusion, you shall have to pay a tithe..."

From the outside of the mine, the mixture of maniacal laughter and the torturous screams of a lost soul echoed throughout the blackened forest of Myrken Wood, causing wolves to howl in the distance, and owls to hoot from their perches on trees.

And then, there was ominous silence.....
Blood is black in the moonlight -
When I pierced the heart of my bethrothed.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
Her undead gaze bringing ire upon me.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
I held her head aloft to my grim gods.

Blood is black in the moonlight -
And ever I am thwarted by the dark.

Bal-Sagoth - Thwarted by the Dark (Blade of the Vampyre Hunter)
User avatar
Lucian
Member
 
Posts: 41
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2002 11:59 pm
Location: Clearwater, Florida


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