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Noche Negra Phelix Send a noteboard - 28/12/2009 11:43:44 PM
OOC: To begin with, I am posting a status update on our friend, the King, and my character's actions. Let the game begin!


IC:


Jacob bar Josef sat on the floor of his cell, perfectly still, letting his mind drift. These pathetic church-mice thought to break him by leaving him in a cell without any company, barring the rats. Humans nearby stank of their fear of the rats, and that sensation made Jacob's spine tingle. He was the Rey de la Noche, why should he fear un ratoncito? When the thirst got to be too great, he drained one of the vile creatures. The scent of human filled his nostrils, and he knew that the rat would not satisfy him.

His mental reach let him touch the minds of all the prisoners on his floor, as well as most of the inquisitors' minds as well, even though they lived a few levels above the dungeons. There were no other vampires within reach of his telepathy, which made his exalted position as King of the Night entirely pointless. He had survived the razing of Jerusalem, the City of David, surely he could survive the persecution of these fools who did not even know the value of their prize.

All he could hope was that none of his fractious Dukes were able to seize his throne while he was incapacitated. One might even be loyal enough to rescue him.

The thick iron lock on his door shifted, clicking, allowing the oaken panel to swing open. The door itself was several inches thick, and was bound with iron, making it strong enough to resist even most vampires. Standing there, with a halo made of torchlight, was an inquisitor, wearing his traditional red robes.

"Do you confess your sins?" The cardinal said the words almost as if he were reciting from a book of lines. His question did not matter, nor did Jacob's answer.

"My little pecadillos cannot compare to yours, Cardinal de Villa Lobos. Murdering the mother of your own child... how christ-like of you." Jacob did not need to read his mind to know that fact. As King of the Night, he maintained a network of spies that watched the government of the world of the light, the church, and his own followers. One of his spies had watched as the Cardinal had stabbed the woman through her abdomen, intending to kill the unborn child with the same stroke.

The cardinal's face turned as red as his vestments. He gestured to the men with him. "Bring this vicious, lying beast to the chamber of repentance."

Today's torture session would be rather inventive, if Jacob was any good at reading his victims.

*****

Alessandro sat inside the carriage, secure against the setting sun by the use of thick leather shades on the windows and doors, as it bounced along the road from the Vatican to the Harbor. He would take ship to Barcelona, sailing between Corsica and Sardegna, and should arrive in the Spanish city within a week. Before leaving his quarters beneath the Vatican, Alessandro had fed deeply, drinking every drop from two young women who had been sent to join a nunnery. Their families would be told that they died of the plague, as many people did in the densely populated cities.

The week passed quickly, and as his ship sailed into Barcelona harbor, Alessandro smiled, breathing in the night air. His eyes scanned the other boats, and made sure that there were no obvious sources of danger. He was nominally a Catholic Priest originally from the Florentine Republic, lately of Rome, and as such his visit to Barcelona was nothing out of the ordinary. The Holy Father would be very interested in the progress the Spanish priests were making in their Inquisition.

Leaving the ship, he made his way to the home of the local Archbishop, who had been notified of his visit. The holiness himself was not in residence, but was rather off to visit the other parts of his diocese. He had left Alessandro the use of his home, his servants, and the resources of the local church. Being a blood sucking fiend of the night could be difficult if one didn't have the resources of the Church to hide behind.

Once he settled his belongings into the second largest room, he went back into the darkness to begin his research. He would meet with as many of the local, mid-level creatures of the night, vampires, witches, ghosts, to see if any knew anything about the King's fall into the hands of the Inquisition.

Before he could do that, though, he had to feed. His week on-board had left him weakened. Planning for the voyage, he had spent most of the trip alone in his cabin, leaving orders that no one should disturb him. While alone, he had slept the sleep of the dead... rather, the undead. That dormancy had kept his body from using up the blood he had consumed before leaving Rome, but despite the lack of activity, his body was crying out for sangue.

His thirst turned his throat to dust, his teeth into fangs, and his fingers into claws. He was a predator, let loose among the kine. The black robes of his vocation made him difficult to see in the gloom of the Spanish night, and even if he were seen, a Catholic Priest has more authority on these streets than most lords. A lord could not damn your soul to hell, or send you to the Inquisitors for heresy.

Moving briskly through the streets, Alessandro sought out his prey. The gentle touches of kine-minds stroked his senses, letting him know different things about each pulsing mind. There were street walkers, bakers, guardsmen, and more. Alessandro could have taken any of them, easily, but he wanted someone that would be a pleasure to take. He wanted a challenge.

There! This mind was bright, strong... deep. The Vampire Priest send his mind out, slowly sending vibrations of fear, nervousness, and jitters into his victim's mind. His prey knew a mental attack when he felt one, and he resisted. Fighting off a mental attack normally meant one of two things: turning your mind into a maze and fleeing, or overwhelming your attacker. This man thought he was strong, and tried to do the latter. His attempt at overwhelming Alessandro was laughable. Few of the kine had any real mental powers, and the average vampire could handle even them.

When Alessandro stepped up his mental assault by adding crippling nausea to the fear, nerves, and jitters. Only then did his victim try to flee. His mind went from a clear, bright spot in the field of minds, to a hazy labyrinth... the only problem was that Alessandro already knew where his physical shell was. Stalking the streets, his boots clicking gently on the cobblestones, Alessandro smiled as he got closer and closer to his victim's body.

The man was slumped in the darkest corner of a side street, a block from a tavern he had been visiting. In his mind, the man thought he was leading his hunter away, using the mental skills that probably had served him well in the past. He was a warlock. His kind could cause problems for vampires, if they knew the undead was coming, or if they knew where the undead kept his lair during the day. This one knew neither thing about Alessandro, and as the vampire followed him through the mental maze, he physically sat down beside the warlock's flesh, and stroked his extremities. His motions caused the blood flow to grow stronger in his victim's body, and that was when the Warlock knew he was doomed.

He dropped his defenses and launched an all out mental attack, throwing magic and telepathy at the Vampire, but it was too late. Alessandro's fangs sank into his flesh, and it was soon over. The warlock's heavy beard fell down to cover his ripped out throat, and Alessandro stood. Using a touch of telekinesis, the vampire sent the warlock's body floating down the alley, and into the drain that would take storm water into the sea. The body would find its way into the ocean, and no one would be any wiser to the fact that another vampire had come to Barcelona.

His first stop would be a non-vampire contact. Goldenteeth was a thief, then a merchant... which is simply another kind of thievery. He was also a loup-garou. That particular breed of werewolf was stronger than average, and Martin was well known as a neutral party to most supernatural disputes. He was a good place to start when looking for impartial information.

Checking the skies, he noted that it was a new moon, and la luna was entirely absent from the skies. A good night to speak with a werewolf. When he arrived at the merchant's manor, he knocked firmly at the door. Goldenteeth's servants were used to nocturnal visitors, and he was ushered into a sitting room to wait for the lupine master.

OOC: Fistofpainx, it's your turn! If someone else would like to start another subthread showing what their character is doing in regards to the King being captured, feel free.
I was Phelix on wotmania, I will always be Phelix in the "real" world, and now I am Phelix on RAFO.

You will make all kinds of mistakes; but as long as you are generous and true and also fierce you cannot hurt the world or even seriously distress her.- Churchill

*MySmiley*
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