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- Joined
- Dec 5, 2010
Because you can't fix what's broken from the inside.
Vampires and elves have been at war for ages, mainly stemming from the early enslavement of elves by the vampires hundreds of years ago. Only gaining freedom through a bloody struggle that the vampires agreed was far too costly and frankly trivial to continue, the vampires allowed the elvish to flee back and return to their own lands, where the ruins of what was once a massive empire stood awaiting them.
However, tensions still spark between the two factions. Vampires are naturally drawn to the scent and blood of elves, the pure, unadulterated scent of elvish flesh almost ingrained in their minds as a potent aphrodesiac.
Although attempts at peace are made and endless treaties signed, conflict does not seem to cease. In the end, boody scuffles end in broken relationships and severed contact. War seems inevitable, but once again the odds seems stacked against the elves, and this time the vampires are determined to bring them to heel.
As a last attempt effort at peace, the elvish queen agrees to send her daughter along with several elvish nobles as a goodwill ambassador to ease the sparks. But the elves are met with mostly terrible hospitality and a large amount of hissing and lewd looks.
However, a certain vampire, the son of an archduke, fights against the notion of war. Unfortunately, he's very much the lone wolf, with few people supporting him - even his father disapproves. War is the answer to them, and the vampiric nobles are out for blood and flesh to crave their lust for power.
Finding the princess more or less lost in a world that despises her, the vampire noble takes her under his wing to show her a side of the vampires that have little to do with the hatred and power hungry madness that consumes most of them. Unfortunately, the loom of war forces the princess to flee back to her own country, whereupon both promise each other this won't be the last time they see each other.
As a turn of bad luck, the archduke is chosen as one of the commanders in the upcoming invasions. Naturally, he chooses his son to lead one of the contingents, much to his dismay. Unfortunately, even a single show of hesitance would most likely have him tried for treason, and either executed or jailed for the rest of his miserable, immortal life until he would waste away from lack of sustenance. Finding no other choice than to cooperate, he does so, and is placed in one of the main armies as a captain.
The day they assault the castle, will be the day they meet again, but this time under very difficult and different circumstances.
However, tensions still spark between the two factions. Vampires are naturally drawn to the scent and blood of elves, the pure, unadulterated scent of elvish flesh almost ingrained in their minds as a potent aphrodesiac.
Although attempts at peace are made and endless treaties signed, conflict does not seem to cease. In the end, boody scuffles end in broken relationships and severed contact. War seems inevitable, but once again the odds seems stacked against the elves, and this time the vampires are determined to bring them to heel.
As a last attempt effort at peace, the elvish queen agrees to send her daughter along with several elvish nobles as a goodwill ambassador to ease the sparks. But the elves are met with mostly terrible hospitality and a large amount of hissing and lewd looks.
However, a certain vampire, the son of an archduke, fights against the notion of war. Unfortunately, he's very much the lone wolf, with few people supporting him - even his father disapproves. War is the answer to them, and the vampiric nobles are out for blood and flesh to crave their lust for power.
Finding the princess more or less lost in a world that despises her, the vampire noble takes her under his wing to show her a side of the vampires that have little to do with the hatred and power hungry madness that consumes most of them. Unfortunately, the loom of war forces the princess to flee back to her own country, whereupon both promise each other this won't be the last time they see each other.
As a turn of bad luck, the archduke is chosen as one of the commanders in the upcoming invasions. Naturally, he chooses his son to lead one of the contingents, much to his dismay. Unfortunately, even a single show of hesitance would most likely have him tried for treason, and either executed or jailed for the rest of his miserable, immortal life until he would waste away from lack of sustenance. Finding no other choice than to cooperate, he does so, and is placed in one of the main armies as a captain.
The day they assault the castle, will be the day they meet again, but this time under very difficult and different circumstances.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-
"See here, Vincent~" the earl angrily fumed, pointing to the documents he had presented. "The elves have been impudent violators of the treaty we graciously granted them when their bastard forefathers demanded one. I see no reason why you must abstain your vote of war."
Vincent, and aged magistrate of the older courts, held his head in his hand, eyes closed as his silvery mane tumbled over his lined features. He had a composed, yet faint scowl on his face, expressing his frustration over the near unmoveable court. In fact, the earl's statement had angry mutters circling the room as people shuffled nervously, awaiting one of the most influencial people in their society to come to his senses - or so they believed.
"I see no reason in this discussion." The magistrate finally sighed. "I will cast no vote."
The earl smirked, obviously pleased he had shoved aside perhaps the one man that could have changed it all. His hawklike face scrunched in victory, he held the parchment in his fist up in the air, giving a shout of triumph, one echoed by the chambers, filled to the brim with vampire nobles that had arrived for the conference.
Damon silently, anxiously paced the room, violet eyes closed in thought. No doubt, they had already come to a conclusion, the council had been in session for nearly seven hours. He had implored his father, a Duke, to cast his vote in opposition of a war but he had no voice in a world gone mad. To oppose them now would mean treason and a sure sign to a life in the dank cells of Abersush Castle.
What could one do? He bit down in frustration, feeling like a wolf who could not stop his fellows from chasing down the wrong sheep. Then again, who was a wolf to distinguish from right or wrong?
And then there was the Elvish Queen. The naive woman had sent her daughter and an envoy of nobles to possibly work something out with them as goodwill, but he didn't expect anything other than a stab in the throat and a one way road back home. Clasping his cloak around his shoulders, he hurried out only to meet his father returning to their quarters with a convoy of politicians at his heels.
"Well?" It was a rhetorical question.
"It passed. I'm afraid one vote does nothing, Damon." The Duke replied, marching past him. "Now if you would excuse me..." The small rabble swept past him, laughing over the day's triumphs, no doubt.
He had to find his uncle. Vincent had absolute authority over everything presiding over court - how had not overturned this? It was sheer madness - why he had not realized it was beyond him.
Almost every corner had packs and packs of vampires milling around, all in high spirits. It sickened him, keeping his head down until he reached the western wings of the castle.
The doors to the chamber were open. He took it to his advantage. Vincent stood on the outer balconies, a glass of wine in his hand, staring out at a orange tinted skyline. In his other hand he held a book.
He wasn't surprised. It seemed he always found his uncle pondering things over wine and books. But before he could step any further, he noticed Vincent was scrawling something down on a note. As he stepped forward, Vincent suddenly jumped, turning around with an accusing look in his eye.
"Who the hell -" the old man began irately, before recognition seeped in. "Oh. Damon. Yes, well. Come in."
With one hand on the book, the other crumpled the small note, depositing it in his sleeve. He didn't bother to ask what it was. More importantly, was him asking~
"How could you let it pass?"
The question was almost empty as he glanced at his uncle's tired features.
[Edit : This roleplay is up for grabs, as I haven't found anyone to do it with me. And yes, I made sweet, sweet love to my enter key, don't judge me.]