'King of Vampires. Me? As a brat I never thought I could achieve something like that. Kings and Queen's of the Crimson Spire aren't chosen because of lineage or the dozens of rare bloodlines, but by the Eye; a sentient being that sees the future of everyone that they look at, but they keep the futures to themselves unless an Elder gives a blood sacrifice of a loved one to the Eye for information, but no one dared tried it; even though there's a sacrificial price, there were always strings attatched. Visceris…Within the depths of the Spire, treachery brewed like a venomous concoction. Amongst the noble court strolled Visceris the Apostate, once a loyalist turned dissenter, whose heart had turned as cold as the crypt's embrace. This fiendish noble, with eyes that gleamed of a hunger unsated, lusted for more than just the throne. It wasn't enough to overthrow me alone; On my assumptions, Visceris sought to weave his very being with the dark tapestry of Gorron's cursed lineage. Through unseen machinations, Visceris enacted his betrayal, a forsaken symphony that played out in silenced screams and blood spilled upon hallowed ground. The regicide fractured the core of the Spire, sending tremors of discord through the ranks of my once-loyal followers. The consequence of such a deed was a schism as deep as the abyss itself—those still devout to me receded into the shadows of the night, hiding their faces from the looming sun, while Visceris's acolytes emerged, brazen and baleful. It all led to the conclusion that this bastard Visceris was working with Gorron, and influenced the Elders to use a forbidden spell on me to banish my heart, which holds my full power, to hell. Ah..it's funny. Even though I wasn't liked or hated by many, I was always supported and praised by the Elders, also known as the Sanguine Counsel, they were the embodiment of ancient tradition and timeless wisdom. Clad in garments that seemed to absorb the light around them, their eyes gleamed with the knowledge of aeons. These Elders presided over the Spire's courts with a mixture of stern governance and arcane might. Once Visceris had somehow persuaded them to use a forbidden spell on me, it put his betrayal into motion. And it had me wondering..how did he manage to persuade them so fast during the meeting of that day? Why did he work with Gorron? And what of the ones who served me loyally? My wife Niorh..is she still alive? What about Hajun? The crazy ass loyal fiend who will protect me no matter what. What about my daughter, Sella? And my other guardians who were close to me? Based on the betrayal, I feel Visceris sought not to uphold the tenets of the Crimson Spire, but to rewrite them in his own twisted image, seeking to forge new principles in the blood of his enemies and the ashes of tradition. The power struggle at the heart of the Spire ultimately wrought deep changes upon not only the vampire society but the very fabric of the lands around it, for as the Spire teetered, so too did the secrets it held sway, threatening to spill forth and upend the world of mortals into a new age of shadows and strife.'
Kazelle's thoughts were running rampant, walking through an unfamiliar world, but a world he heard tales of. The sounds of steam glistened amongst the atmosphere; the streets were busy despite it being so late In the night time.
'In a world I'm unfamiliar with but heard tales of, I don't know what the hell is going on right now. This cult of Gorron, existing since Gorron's arrival, used some kind of spell to try and revive Gorron, but they summoned me instead. Which means the revival ritual they tried to use didn't work, meaning those fools will keep trying to use different tactics to revive the bastard. What ritual was it that led me to be summoned as well? My heart is in hell, but I'm here breathing and living, the core, the heart is the source for all vampires' lives. A lot of things I have to figure out. The first thing I need to do is figure out how this place works, its system, its world, its laws, its magic, if there even is any. But if there are vampires here, because of the cult, there must be a small hint of magic here, magic I'm willing to extinguish if it stands in my way. And since there are vampires here, I have to track down the ones who aren't in the cult, if there is any. I have to find a way back to my kingdom, and confront the Elders of the Sanguine Council, and Visceris. I have to find a way into hell as well, to gain my true power back before I go confront those idiotic fools. That day the event happened..like that shit happened yesterday..'
(FLASHBACK)
In the dim-lit chamber, high within the foreboding walls of the Crimson Spire, the Elders of the Sanguine Council convened, their silhouettes barely discernible amidst the encroaching gloom. The colossal table at which they sat was hewn from the darkest obsidian, reflecting the flickering light of the braziers with a subtle, bleeding glow. Here, a convergence of ancient power was about to address the fate of their kind.
Marius the Sage, with his short black and white hair and red eyes and blind fold, his voice the very sound of wisdom accumulated over eons, broke the silence, "We stand upon the precipice of an epoch. The mortals grow restless, their empires expanding. We must consider the Masquerade now more than ever."
From across the table, an elegant figure shrouded in allure, Carmilla the Enchantress, with her long dark purple glistening hair and pure white eyes responded with a voice like velvet, "Yet, the night remains ours to command, Marius. The Masquerade has been held for centuries under our watchful gaze, and I see no reason for undue concern."
"I must disagree," intoned Severus the Stoic, with his long black braided beard, reddish gray eyes, and white bushy hairs., slowly to his full imposing height. "We cannot dismiss the signs. There is a stirring in the shadows, unease among the fledglings. Discontent breeds rebellion, and a divided house cannot stand."
The Elders nodded, acknowledging the gravity of Severus's words. Lilith the Lorekeeper, with short dark red hair, and pitch black eyes interjected softly, "The bloodlines remain pure, as they must. But I fear the whispers of ambition and power that I read in the archives are no longer buried in the past. They are here, now, under our very roof."
Her gaze turned toward Raphael the Claviger, with his diamond colored hair, and red eyes, who leaned forward, the weight of countless keys clinking by his side, "We uphold the Covenant of Shadows as our forebears did. But this era, this... restlessness that pervades our kin, it cannot be locked away in my vaults. Kazelle, our king, senses this too. His nightly councils grow more frequented by envoys from afar."
A shadow passed through the chamber, unnoticed but felt by each Elder present. It was the unspoken name that darkened their exchange—Visceris. His name lay like a stone on their tongues, too heavy to raise, too dangerous to ignore. Marius gathered the resolve of the ancients before addressing them once more, "We must guide Kazelle, lend him our strength. United, the Spire has been the heart of our dominion, the bedrock upon which our world rests. He must see the bolstering of our traditions not as an act of constraint, but as essential to our survival."
"In the twilight that stretches before us," Carmilla murmured, "Our unity will be the beacon that guides us through the night. Let us then renew our oaths—to the Spire, to the Masquerade, to the blood."
They each bowed their heads in silent accord, the pact sealed anew.
Then, with the grace of a thousand years, they rose together, a singular force against the swelling tide. They each knew the role they must play, the vigilant keepers of order in a time poised on the blade-edge of change.
For now, the Crimson Spire stood monolithic, a manifestation of their undying will, its grandeur reflecting the eternal law of the nocturnal realm. But deep within its heart lay the silent beat of treachery, waiting to unfurl its deadly coil. This was a truth they must face, together as the Elders of the Spire, but for the moment, the council adjourned, each to their own clandestine designs, under the watchful gaze of the ever-silent night.
As the Elders' accord was struck, the chamber's atmosphere tensed once more, for the Spire, in all its ancient certainty, still bore the weight of the unknown. Severus's gaze turned, as if drawn by an unseen thread, to the empty seat where their ruler, Kazelle, would have sat, had he chosen to attend their conclave.
"It is Kazelle's wisdom that has guided us through centuries of moonlit reign. Yet, a king's strength is measured by his court's unity. Should we not urge him to address the creeping tendrils of unrest directly?" Severus's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
Carmilla's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes reflecting a secret mirth. "Our king has ever been a creature of action. Do not think him oblivious to the currents that flow beneath the Spire's surface. He watches, waits..."
Marius nodded, his fingers tracing the sigils carved into the obsidian before him. "Indeed. Yet, a king ought to lead with the wisdom of his council at his back. Shall we then extend our counsel and ask that he convene with us more frequently? His presence alone may quell whispers of dissent."
As the Elders exchanged troubled glances, Raphael's stoicism cracked ever so slightly. "The vaults, crypts, and ancient troves all hold secrets that could tip the scales of power. I fear that secrets might become the currency of an unwelcome revolution. We must guard against betrayal even if—"
Suddenly, Raphael fell silent. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the shadowed alcove just beyond the spectrum of the braziers' glow. A flicker, perhaps less, revealed a presence that should not have been there.
"Show yourself," Raphael demanded, standing tall, his voice now a steely command.
From the shadowed alcove emerged a figure enshrined in darkness, a predator amongst the royalty of the night. Viscerus stepped out, his eyes locking on each member of the council with piercing intensity. "Hiding in the shadows, such a demeaning act for one of my stature, wouldn't you agree?"
The Elders did well to mask their discomfort, though they could not suppress the sense of exposure that crept into their undead hearts.
"Viscerus, your eavesdropping is unbecoming," Carmilla said with a restrained sneer. "But now that you've shown yourself, speak. What is your part in these 'whispers' of dissent?"
With a feral grin that betrayed his pleasure at being confronted, Viscerus advanced a step, bold and unblinking. "Oh, I merely wished to understand the full scope of your... dedication to our king." His words dripped with sarcasm, poison-tipped and barbed. "My loyalty lies with Kazelle, as does my ambition."
Viscerus, with his short wavy/messy black hair, red eyes with black signals of a crow in them, and black and red glowing tattoos on his face and body, strutted towards the conversation like he was apart of it the entire time.
As the council regarded Viscerus with a mixture of wariness and disdain, Marius brought the matter back to its core. "Our concern is the stability of Kazelle's throne and the Crimson Spire's future. Your interests align with ours, do they not?"
"Of course, dear Marius," Viscerus replied, a serpent's smile playing on his lips. "But know this—Kazelle's reign must adapt to the new era or be left behind by it. And should my counsel be required to ensure the prosperity of our kind, I shall offer it... freely."
The chamber of the Sanguine Council was rife with whispers of the past, as though the marble, steeped in centurial secrets, murmured into the ears of the timeless Elders. Severus, his deep-set eyes reflecting the shimmer of the ancient braziers, spoke first, invoking the lineage of kings whose shadows still danced upon the Spire's walls.
"Let us not forget the legacy of King Venturus, whose iron grip ushered in the Golden Epoch, nor the enlightened rule of Aeternia the Wise, whose reign brought forth the Guild of Shadows." His voice echoed in the silence, as from the memory of ages risen.
Carmilla, her fingers tracing the delicate filigree of her goblet, which seemed to pulse with life, added, "Under King Valerian, the Spire reached its zenith—a beacon amidst the darkness, whose spires clawed at the very skies, defying the realm of men and the wrath of the sun itself."
Marius took up the thread of history, a storyteller beckoning to the world beyond their reality. "And who among us can forget the somber days of Queen Seraphina the Nightingale, whose voice quelled the Great Insurrection and whose tears anointed the burial grounds of the fallen kin? Her reign is etched into the Annals as a song of sorrow and triumph."
Lilith, pausing to caress an ancient tome, proclaimed, "Our principles—Dominion, Secrecy, and Eternity—have guided us through the tempests of time. For each monarch, a chapter. For each era, a trial by which the Spire's resolve was tested and found unyielding."
As the weight of history bore down upon them, Raphael's eyes glinted knowingly. "And now Kazelle, our enigmatic sovereign, stands at the crossroads of adoration and malcontent. Loved for his charisma, feared for his unquenchable thirst for power, and scorned by those who covet his throne. But his Gluttony..a glutton for bloodshed overshadows his kingly design."
"We must not yield to the unrest his rule has invited," Marius continued, "for the Crimson Spire transcends its monarch. It is the pinnacle of our world, the sanctuary of the rarest bloodlines that ever threaded the fabric of night."
"We stand as the culmination of these bloodlines, the zenith of vampire evolution. Within us flows the wisdom and the folly of a thousand lifetimes," Lilith intoned.
"Indeed we do," Raphael replied solemnly, "and while Kazelle's lineage is both ancient and potent, long-distance kin of the legendary Alucard, his strength must not be our sole reliance. It is the unity of our rare bloodlines that fortifies the Spire, an edifice of power balanced upon the precipice of diverse yet harmonious might."
The Elders nodded, each lost in contemplation of their heritage and the collective responsibility that their esteemed position demanded. In the tapestry of intrigue that had woven itself around the Spire, one thread remained constant—the unassailable truth that the confluence of their bloodlines was the lifeblood of their eternal empire.
As the echoes of Viscerus's departure faded into the hollow corners of the chamber, a distinct sense of foreboding settled over the council. Marius, ever the harbinger of history, raised his voice to invoke the solemn legacy of the Crimson Spire.
"We must recall the foundation upon which the Spire rests—the Oath of the Blood Communion, the very edict that first forged our dominion over night's empire," he began, his voice resonating with the weight of their sacred past.
His words cast a ceremonial air, as each Elder felt the surge of ancient memories, the sacrifices of their forebears whispered through the stone and marrow of the Spire's core. With measured deliberation, Severus stood, his voice like stone.
"On the graves of our ancestors, we swore to uphold the Spire's majesty—against the scourges of time, the envy of enemies, and the rot of complacency. We are the stewards of an everlasting covenant, drawn from the first drop of noble blood to grace this hallowed soil," Severus declared, his oath renewing the solemn vows etched deep within their undead souls.
Carmilla rose next, her charismatic presence weaving a spell over the chamber. "Under moonlit oath, we bound ourselves to the Masquerade, to the safeguarding of our shadowed existence, that the Spire might forever pierce the heavens as a beacon of our eternal reign."
Lilith closed her eyes, a gesture of both reverence and remembrance, as she spoke, "To the archives, the chronicles, the stories woven within the very walls of this fortress, I pledge my undying fealty. For in the past lies the power that will sustain our tomorrows."
Raphael, clutching a key wrought from the first forge of the Spire, fastened it around his neck, solemnly intoning, "With this key, I lock away the foes of order, the whispers of chaos, and the seeds of betrayal. The Spire's heart beats within its vaults, and I am its keeper, till the last echo fades into silence."
The Oaths, spoken, hung in the air like an incantation—a shield against the shadow of treachery and a reminder of the power that they collectively wielded.
Marius addressed the council one final time, "Let us then inscribe our names alongside the lineage of the Sanguine Council, the undying guardians of the Spire's legacy, that future generations may know our dedication to the cause."
And so, they each stepped forward, taking the quill that had signed countless decrees, dipped in blood older than kingdoms, and marked their names upon the ancient scroll that bore witness to the council's will:
Marius the Sage of the Eons, Severus the Unyielding Stone, Carmilla the Enchantress of Night, Lilith the Keeper of Lore, Raphael the Claviger Eternal.
With their names written, the Oaths reaffirmed, the Elders of the Crimson Spire sealed the pact of their order. A pact that, unbeknownst to them, faced its greatest threat and stood on a precipice overlooking a future darkened by treachery. For within their ranks, ambition festered—a serpent coiled beneath the grandeur of their history, keen to strike at the heart of the Spire and rewrite the chronicles in a new, blood-stained ink.
Standing on top of his place under the red and black sky, Kazelle was letting the air breeze through his cloak, flowing like a flag with the wind.
"Mmm, should I pick a fight with someone for no reason for a chance at a promotion?"
"Bored, your majesty?"
Kazelle turned around, and it was Hajun approaching with a grin, and a cup of tea that has been altered to be drinkable for vampires.
Kazelle replied, "Hajun I've been worried about you."
Hajun got excited, "Really?!!"
"Nope."
"Haha, you're funny, your majesty."
"Nah I'm just kidding. How was that joke? I've been trying not to be so scary and serious all the time like people complain."
"It was a 10/10 sir!"
"Hmmm then I'm beginning to become a master at this if I keep at it. Have you seen my wife Niorh?"
"She's staring at the wall downstairs, your majesty!"
"She's been doing that for the past seven days, it's been scaring me. What about my daughter Sella, is she staring at a wall too?"
"HAHA! No, no. She's outside training. Trying to master that world altering blood magic you've been trying to teach her."
"Oh yeah? Guess she loves me after all, my fathering skills aren't up to par yet. I'm getting there though."
"And I have a proposal..I-if you don't mind."
"Huh? What is it?"
Hajun thought, ''I want to ask if I can have your blessing seal, a seal that links souls together, and we'll be able to share a small portion of power that'll make us twice as strong! If I'm able to get that, then I'm able to prove my worth more, show how I'm able to handle even the kings power, and then you will praise me indefinitely. I feel weaker than your other vampire subordinates here, my abilities aren't that great, the others talk down on me because of it, saying you keep me close as an assistant because I'm a dog on leash, who will bark and do anything no matter how absurd it is."
"Sooo..you want me to show favoritism toward you because of what they said? Making you stronger than them so you can rub it in their face?"
"N-no it's not like that, your majesty-."
"I'm kidding."
"Oh.." Hajun sighed with a relief, wiping sweat from his forhead.
"I keep you close because you're more dependable. My other subordinates do whatever I ask with no disrespect, their loyalty runs far beyond the Red Pond, but they don't have the gall to run out into danger without hesitation, like you."
"Your majesty.."
"Oi..don't make this weird or anything, got it?"
"Y-yeah yeah!"
"Linking souls is temporary anyway, you know it doesn't last long. After a while, it wears off and the seal is undone how it's intended to be. You wanted temporary power, just to kick their ass and then be done with it?"
"Um.."
"If that's the case, then sure."
"Really?! You're joking this time aren't you?"
"Nope."
"Thank you!"
Suddenly, there was a loud ringing in the air, a screeching noise that made Hajun cover his ears, "AGHHHHH!"
Kazelle just stood there, not affected, and he saw the sky was getting darker, and he said, "Tch..no fucking way."
The silhouettes of the Sanguine council formed in the sky in a circle, and Visceris was watching from the shadows, with his arms folded, with a grin.
Marius said, "We have put in the Oaths of truth, and if the truth will set us free, then the lies must be destroyed. The vampiric bloodlines will be protected."
Lillith added, "Your death and banishment..are confirmed."
Hajun yelled, "You bastards! Do you know what you're doing?! What's possessing you?"
Raphael responded, "This is for the best!"
Suddenly, a red glowing crest with a fang digit in the middle of it formed under Kazelle, and glowing red chains shot out.
Hajun exclaimed with power, "No!"
A black fog ascended from his body, he created red glowing jagged-edged daggers in his hands, he spun once really fast, and the chains shattered into pieces, causing the ground to vibrate.
Marius continued, "No point in trying to protect him. Hierarchy is sacrosanct, Each creature of the night has its place, and the chaos of the blood must be orchestrated with precision. The Masquerade must be upheld, Mortals shall remain blind to the true nature of their nocturnal overlords, lest the veil be torn asunder. Purity of bloodline is paramount, The Essence of the vampiric spirit, enshrined in blood, shall not be tainted by the unworthy. The Covenant of Shadows is binding, Deals struck under the dark are inviolate, sealed with blood, and enforceable by death. The Night is sanctuary and dominion, As dusk falls, the power of the vampire rises; they are the children of shadows, and the night belongs to them."
The chains shot out again, and it stabbed through Hajun's chest. Hajun coughed up blood, and he dropped to his knees, yelling, "I'll kill all of you!"
Kazelle was bound, and blood ran down his head due to the spell taking effect.
Kazelle said, "Bloodline this..bloodline that…covenant this..covenant that…fuck that. You bastards..I don't know what's going on with you, but I'll be back to claim all of your souls." Kazelle let out his famous grin that poured out a negative smile, and the Elders of the Sanguine Council just looked at him.
Kazelle and Hajun were kneeling together, both of them bloody: Hajun was giving out a demeanor of anger as he gritted his teeth, but right beside him, Kazelle was just grinning.
(FLASHBACK END)
(Present Day)
'What type of king was I? Ruthless, merciless. Killed any who opposed me, and the people didn't approve of instant death with some men who I thought deserved it. I thought ruling was supposed to be instilling fear and reason, but the council always told me I did it the wrong way. Was that maybe the reason all of this happened..or something deeper?'
Kazelle sauntered down the nightlystreets of New Babel, the clockwork heart of an era juxtaposing Victorian elegance with the burgeoning might of steam and cog. The cobbled pathways thrummed with vigor, lined with towering edifices of wrought iron and stained glass that pierced the smog-laden sky. Trains suspended on aerial tracks hissed and clanked above, and automaton street sweepers trundled past, their brass joints glinting in the intermittent sunlight that filtered through the industrial haze.
He moved like a specter, untouched by the kinetic world around him, his visage a stark contrast to the vibrance of life in the steampunk metropolis. The fabric of his dark attire was spattered with the remnants of the night's violent theater, a grisly canvas that whispered sinister tales to those observant enough to notice.
Whispers flitted among the town's people as they parted to let him through, their eyes drawn to the crimson streaks that marred his figure, a dread fascination gripping them. "Good heavens, why is that gentleman covered in blood?" asked a well-dressed lady to her companion, her words a trembling murmur as her parasol hand quivered.
"Perhaps an unfortunate encounter at the abattoir, or worse..." her friend replied with a wary eye, "a duel gone too far?"
Amidst the murmur of speculation, a town crier's booming voice cut through the ambient clutter of conversation and mechanical din. He stood at a prominent street corner, his proclamation a clarion call over the assembled crowd.
"Hear ye, hear ye! The Vermillion Order joins New Babel's Constabulary this night! An alliance forged to scour the dark from our fair city!"
He brandished a broadsheet, embellished with woodcut images of cloaked figures and the gothic spires that had become talismans of fear in recent whispers.
"The hunt commences for the night's cursed brood—vampires, they say! A nest uncovered, and justice shall be delivered! Witnesses report sightings near the Umbral Quarter Village!"
Gaslights flickered as dusk approached, and the crier's message seeded a new brand of terror amidst the townspeople. Their murmurs grew into a clamorous tide, each tale feeding the next—a veritable feast of gossip and dread.
Kazelle, unaffected, continued on his way, his presence an enduring mystery that tangled itself within the threads of consternation that now hung over New Babel. The citizenry could not help but glance back over their shoulders, pondering if the macabre figure they had passed was predator or something even more menacing, the protagonist in the violent stories whispered behind closed doors.
The creak of gears and the chuff of steam formed a discordant symphony to his departure, as Kazelle delved deeper into the labyrinth of streets, leaving behind a wake of unease that would ripple throughout the city long after his form faded from view.
'Hunt for vampires? Then there's some here then. Vampire sighting..I'll apprehend those immediately. Why are there vampires here with me to begin with? Did Visceris and the Elders give them the same treatment as me? I have to find these vampires as well..my wife and daughter, if they're here, I'll have a better shot at getting back. I still have to navigate this world and see what I can work with, anyone who stands in my way, will die. Umbral Quarter village, my next stop. I've been easily tracking the cultists and zealots, due to the fact that I drank the blood of their dead, which led me to see into their memories for a mere glimpse of 10 seconds.
(Downtown)
(Ferry Avenue)
(New Babel)
"Agghhh! Niorh!! Just h-hold up a second!"
Hajun was holding Niorh by the waist, but he was being dragged on the sidewalk, as Niorh's mouth dripped with saliva, hungry for the humans she saw that was running from her on the sidewalk.
Niorh said, "Food."
"Aghhh! Niorh! Kazelle wouldn't want you to do this! You need your memories back, bad! I meant food as in wild animals in the woods!"
The people screamed as they ran:
"A vampire!"
"She's fairly good looking though."
"You unloyal bastard, run! I'll deal with you later!"
Hajun thought, 'She's too damn strong! I'm trying to hold her back, but she's just dragging me easily. I gotta stop her! But how?!'