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Old 12-18-2016, 11:57 PM   #1
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The Unlikeliest of Champions (Closed for Sweetp4u)

Screams of death were all around Tastol. His blades darted out here and flicked there, sinking lethally into flesh, or sliding along throats and knees. He was the cause of every death scream that filled the large antechamber, and yet he felt no remorse for any of it.

Tastol Kydaer had spent the past couple of months following this cult, following the trail of bodies they'd left behind, ritualistically murdered. Even when he'd found the lair, he'd had to go slow, taking prisoners, and torturing them for the information he'd needed. Now, all of that time and hard work was paying off. He'd finally found the hideout, and he was in the process of finishing off the last of them. The leader wasn't among them though, that much he did know.

Only when the last man in the large chamber had been finished off, some needing one more stab in the heart, and the last bit of blood flicked from his twin blades did Tastol finally move on. He darted quickly across the chamber, moving to the stairs at the far side. He almost flew down them, moving with a speed that many envied. down and down and down he went, down until he came to a door at the very bottom. He pressed his ear to it, and when he heard nothing, he tested it, finding it locked. He wasn't too worried about it though. He took one step back and gave it a kick. The door flew open, and Tastol darted inside, despite the stench that assaulted him in the process. Right in front of him was his target, the vampire napping safely in his coffin, or so he thought. Tastol rushed forward, but in his haste he'd overlooked something. He heard it before he saw it, and he had smelled it even before that. He just hadn't recognized the source until he was ducking beneath the swing of a giant club.

Tastol rolled to safety, his mithril scimitars almost jumping into his hands. He rose back to his feet and waited, waiting for the large and stupid brute to turn. It was so hard to find good help these days. Tastol simply smiled and waited, his knees bent, and his blades ready. His muscles itched for this, even though he knew it would be short, for it was not the first time he'd fought a troll. Just as he'd expected, the troll charged. Tastol didn't move though, not even as he watched the giant club lift into the air. No, he stood his ground, knowing that he was the superior of the two. The troll closed the distance with a speed that would have surprised most people, but Tastol was ready. His blades lifted as the club came down. He didn't try to block it though. That would have been suicide. He took a step to his left, sidestepping the club as he used some of his own strength to push it down and away from him. In a singular motion, he dropped his scimitars and spun. The sheer momentum of the troll's swing had brought him down, and before the thing even knew what had happened, Tastol had drawn his katana, the beautifully curved mithril blade slipping free of it's sheathe. It's arc was perfect, a single blow that was lent power from his spin, a spinning slash that severed the beast's head. One flick of his blade, and the blood was gone from the silvery blue surface. Tastol retrieved his scimitars and turned his attentions to the man, or rather vampire, sleeping in the coffin.

It was such a shame for the fool that he was what he was, destined to sleep during the daytime. It was the single-greatest advantage Tastol had over them, and one he'd used often. Despite his advantages though, Tastol wasted no time in decapitating this foe as well, watching the body turn to dust. A few minutes later, Tastol had set the entire complex on fire and left, moving on to rest before he found another enemy to kill.

Tastol's life was like that, had been since he'd first discovered what he was. For he was a dhampir, a rare half-breed that could only be birthed by a male vampire and a female human. As was normal though, Tastol's mother didn't survive the experience, and he was left with nobody to teach him about himself. From his youngest years, everybody knew Tastol was different. He was stronger, faster, and more quiet than his peers. He was also a loner, but that didn't bother anybody. They were content to leave him be, and he was happy that way, happy until he started to feel the thirst. It was a thirst that no water could quench, a hunger that no food could sate. It was his vampire half, craving the blood that gave him him their strengths. Try as he might, he could never truly resist it, no matter how hard he tried. He'd left the orphanage as early as he could manage it, taking up the life of a mercenary, one where he could feed off his foes before killing them.

Being a dhampir had it's advantages in Tastol's line of work, advantages that he was more than happy for. For starters, he wasn't effected by sunlight. He moved freely, both during the day and during the night. It made finding his foes that much easier.

Tastol had done as much research as he could on his "condition" trying to find out as much about it, and others like himself as he could. He found that he shared much in common with the few dhampirs that were known from the past. Every one of them hated their vampire fathers, and Tastol had killed his own personally. Every one of them had taken to a life of violence and solitude, and every one of them had become a vampire when they died, and it was for that reason that their job was never complete. Every dhampir hated that part of themselves, that even when every vampire in the world was gone, still one remained. When he died, he would rise again, as that which he hated, unless he was slain in such a way that would kill a vampire.

With a quick shake of his head, Tastol headed back to the town that was the closest to where he was. His horse was a sturdy brown mare, one who'd been with him for quite some time. It had taken him a very long time to find a horse that would bear him as a rider, and he treated her well for that. A few hours later, Tastol was sinking into a bath, cleaning the blood of his fallen foes from his flawless pale skin, something he'd done more times than he could count. Then, when at last he was clean once more, Tastol sank into his bed, letting his weary body finally rest.

Tastol rarely dreamed, but this night was an exception. He couldn't really describe much from it, except for a church, and a desire to go there, to do something, something important. Tastol just shook it off when he woke though, attributing his strange dream to his hunger, for it had been a couple of days since he'd fed. The thirst was the second hardest part about being a dhampir. Hiding the fact that he was a dhampir was the hardest.Thankfully though, they were things Tastol had become very good at. He hadn't told a soul about his true nature, and when he did need to feed, he did it quickly, quietly, and mercifully. He never killed the people he fed from, unless they were people he was going to kill anyway, and he always hid the wound by licking it afterwards, something few people knew about.

Unfortunately for Tastol though, the dreams persisted from feeding to feeding. He tried to distract himself with looking for work, with gambling, and even a few barmaids here and there, but nothing could rid him of the dreams, and the strange desire to go to a church he'd never been to before. With a final resigned sigh, Tastol decided to do it, if only to sate his own strange desire to go, to understand why.

The trip to the church would have been far more annoying for Tastol, being as he didn't know exactly where it was, if not for the dreams guiding him to it. Still, he took his time, feeding as he needed and still trying to figure out why he was being drawn to this church, and what was of such great importance.

Nobody challenged Tastol at the gates of the church grounds, and still nobody challenged him when he got to the large double doors. They were simply opened for him, and he was led inside and into the main chamber, where he would hopefully find out what this was all about.
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Old 12-19-2016, 12:58 AM   #2
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Zaria

Dažbog, the Ethereal Sun-God stood, towering over the mortal man in all his golden glory. Armor forged in the fires of the sun, glint jewels, that of the stars, shone greater than the most beautiful diamonds, ruby and sapphires earth bound did adorn hilt, helm and riveted belt about the giant’s waist. Plumes of Red, Phoenix tail feathers of fable and lore, sprout from the golden helm hiding much of the Ethereal God’s handsome face. Yet his expression was anything but inviting and warmth. Calculation lit in those translucent eyes, lift his sculpted lips as he would smirk down at the half-ling. He did not see what Zaria saw in this mortal slayer, yet it was her choice in a champion to name. Unlike Dazbog, Zaria was quite solid and human sized as a mortal woman. Her long golden hair hung loose, a gossamer gown of moon lit silk and satins of varying shades of silver and blue. Her expression was expectant, curios and almost eager to begin this competition. She had deep blue eyes, a pink bow kissed mouth and a sweet, almost innocence about her.

“He is.. unimpressive.” Muttered Daz, a meaty fist extended a log sized finger out at the Dhampir, as if to push the mortal about a bit. “A bit on the scrawny side.” His voice was deep, resonating and quite offensive of tone, if one were to guess by the mortal’s expression upon hearing such gleaming words of praise fall from the Sun-God’s lips. Zaria wanted to cover her face with both elegant hands, merely shook her head a bit and kept quiet as she could possibly be, given the circumstance. Her father was spoiled, mean and powerful. Easily annoyed, even more so, angered and when righteousness claimed him, he did what HE deemed ‘for the good of all mankind’. Even if it were honestly only the whims of a spoiled Man-God.

“KNEEL, mortal!” barked in a booming voice which rattled the walls and chased ravens from the dusty rafters over head, Dazbog’s face turning raged as he bellowed, “You kneel before my Auroras’..” Insulted that this half-ling did not have the self-preservation or intelligence to kneel before greatness!

“Father..” Zaria stood then from a high backed wooden throne and slid down to place herself between the Dhampir and her father. “I am sure he is awed by your appearance, by the greatness of your deeds and accomplishments… To appear here before a mere mortal..” She made excuses as eloquently as she were introducing Kings and Queens, the Moon or even the morning Star’s arrival.

“Do let me introduce myself.” She smiled and spun to face the mortal .. man? She wanted him, no.. She had to correct that thought, as she needed this half-ling to save her life, her station. She cleared her throat, righted her stance and squared her shoulders.. and yet she did not clear his nose in height. “I am the guardian Goddess Zorja Vechernjaja, The Evening Star, Aurora and watcher of Simargl, a Mother of the Stars, and the Goddess of Beauty, honoured. You may call me Zaria, as it is easier to pronounce than my given name.” She extended her hand to him so that he may pay homage to her, curios as she were still a chaste Goddess, what a mortal’s mouth would feel like upon her skin?

“I have been watching over you Tastol.” She said flatly, “As my father has required of me to name my Champion..” She turned then to her father, whether or not this mortal agreed never did enter her mind. “Dazbog, I present my Champion, Tastol.” Now that THAT was finished and set in stone, she could get on with this nasty business of beating her sister to the end of this silly little game of her parent’s design.
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Old 12-19-2016, 05:38 PM   #3
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Tastol wasn't quite sure what he expected to see when he walked into the large church, but a giant of a man sitting on a huge throne was definitely not it. He didn't have much time to consider the situation before the large man spoke. The words might have annoyed him, or even stung, if not for the distraction that was the low and booming voice that uttered them.

Every semblance of reason within Tastol told him that he should just leave this place and be rid of it, but for some reason his legs carried him forward until he was standing before the large man. The next words the large man uttered were in the form of a booming command that literally shook the stone walls that surrounded them. Despite the command, though, Tastol couldn't help but meet the eyes of the giant figure, despite the helm that covered the majority of his face.

Tastol had been many places and seen many things in his centuries of life, but even his wealth of experience was useless when it came to to his current predicament. A part of him was compelled to obey the giant man before him while another part of him was oh so tempted to say that he wasn't mortal. Before he had time to do either of the two options, though, another voice spoke up.

It wasn't until he heard the soft but clearly audible voice of the woman sitting beside the large man that he actually noticed her presence. His gaze was immediately drawn to her, and though he'd seen many beautiful women in his day, every one of them paled utterly in comparison to who he was now looking at. He only caught bits and pieces of her words as she tried to placate her father, but it was the last two that finally broke him out of his trance-like state.

The reality of his situation was finally dawning on him when the woman turned around and introduced herself. The introduction itself was far too long for him to comprehend all of it just then, but the simple gesture that was her lifting her hand was self-explanatory.

"Gods...here?" Tastol found himself thinking, his mind utterly overwhelmed by the magnitude of his current situation. Thankfully, though, his body knew what to do, even though it was something he'd never done before. He stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the beautiful woman before him. His eyes took in her long golden hair and beautiful blue eyes before he slowly lowered one of his knees to the stone floor. His left hand lifted as if to take the hand she extended towards him, but hesitated in the air for but a moment before closing around her fingers. Her skin was flawlessly smooth, soft, and perfect, just like everything else about her, and while he felt like he could spend an eternity in this position, he forced himself to bow his head as he lifted her hand to his lips. While a simple peck of his lips on the top of her hand would have sufficed, it was impossible for him to resist the urge to press his lips against her soft flesh and linger for a moment before forcing himself to pull back.

Tastol was still kneeling on the stone floor when Zaria turned back towards her father and presented him as her champion. The second those words left her lips, a near-blindingly bright flash of light burst from the large man. The flash came so suddenly that it caught Tastol full in the face before he had a chance to shield his eyes or even close them.

When Tastol was finally able to see again, the first thing that he noticed was that Dažbog was gone.

"Any chance you can fill me in on what the hell that was all about, Zaria?" Tastol asked, a clear hint of annoyance in his otherwise steady baritone voice. He didn't even bother to look at the girl just yet, choosing instead to close his eyes and rest, since he was still somehow a little disoriented from the flash of light.
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Old 12-19-2016, 11:36 PM   #4
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Zaria

A shiver danced upon her skin, her smile turning upward as Tastol's lips lingered upon her. Never had she been touched so, now she understood.. or thought she did, her father's affections for worshipers. Warmth infused her, hitching her breath and pulsated through her being and breast. She reacted much stronger to such a simple gesture than she ever thought possible. Indecent crept into her mind, longing followed as willing companion but a heart beat later. It did not escape Dazbog's notice of his daughter's pulsating aura at that touch. A tick would have formed in the God's jaw, had he been corporeal. Without warning his massive hands clapped like a hateful spring thunder, shooting out a white light so bright it would blind a normal mortal being looking into such force, and vanished.

"Father?" Her voice was unsteady, weak as she fell to her rump unceremoniously. "Father! What have you done!?" She thought she were screeching at him, but her voice was but a whisper across pale lips. She felt cold, sore where her bottom throbbed from landing on unforgiving stone. Itchy! While she kept her beauty and unmarred flesh, her hair was now braided and her gown was now that of a fabric unknown to her. Itchy, stiff and offensive! Blinded by the light of Dazbog showing off, she tried to get some sort of sense of what had happened, but failed.

"You both will play by the rules, without aid of the gift of Gods. Without my Grace, prove your self to be greatness, to be worthy of my name, and your place at my side." His voice caressed cross her mind, a bit disconcerting as he stripped away what made her a Goddess, what made her immortal. "you and Zoria are now mortal, of this realm and within reach of those precious stones. You know what you must do, will the Evening Star prevail?" he was taunting her! She could hear it in his mocking tone.

Before she could swear, or even think to beg him to reconsider his cruelty, he was just.. gone. She felt odd, and her bottom still smarted something awful when the half-ling's voice caught her attention. She had no real grasp on how to do any of this! She did not know where they were, exactly. She did not need to know before.. that is. Now? Now she needed to know! Where and when was she? What was she wearing, did he even leave her with means in which to survive as a mortal? It was his new bitch's fault, giving him another daughter instead of the son Dazbog so badly desired. Now one of them had to go, make room for their dear new little sister... or so it seemed. Until now, she thought it were merely some idle boredom that caused her father to drag her out of her home and duties. Now, she was uncertain and more than a little at a loss.

"Is it always so cold?" She asked Tastol quietly. Shivering a bit, she wrapped herself up a bit tighter in the itchy clothing and beast hide cloak haphazardly clinging by thin string to her throat and shoulders. She was used to never being too hot nor too cold. She did not need to sleep or eat, nor .. do anything human! She felt a wetness dribble down her face and swiped at it, wondering if it were raining indoors? Tilting her chin up, she studied the roof for a leak, expectant of a dew drop to land upon her face once more.. but it did not. "Curios?" Stormy eyes found him once more, a frown creasing her brow with his tone and question. She swiped away the dew and moved over a bit more, pulling the cloak about her human form.

"My sister and I have been given a task that only one of us can accomplish. We were permitted one champion to aid us in our journey, and if we complete the task I regain my Godhood, my powers and then some new, more powerful ones as well." IF was a mighty big word for the two letters it contained. It hinged on Tastol being cooperative, though he did not know it yet.. He had no choice really, for if he did not cooperate, Dazbog would ensure cooperation in more creative ways than merely a light show and size issue..

"If I fail, I die." She added, not for sympathy but truth. Always the truth with her, as she did not see a need to lie nor sneak about to get what she wanted from others, from life. "If you help me find the gems and win, I will grant you any boon you desire." That was a good sales pitch, wasn't it? She look upon him with wide expressive eyes, pleading with him silently not realizing he was mostly blinded by her father's show of temper.
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Old 12-20-2016, 10:28 PM   #5
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In a strange way, his brief absence of sight gave Tastol time to process every thing that had transpired since he'd set foot in this church, right down to the words that Zaria had spoken just now.

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard Zaria." Tastol said softly as he forced his eyes to open, blinking several times before finally managing to keep them open. "What father, god or otherwise, would force his own children to basically fight to the death? Mortals have and continue to kill just to protect their children, or even the chance to have them. Your father's actions are an atrocity!"

As he spoke his last words, Tastol forced himself to his feet. He paced angrily back and forth before Zaria, uncaring just then that she was still sitting on the cold stone.

"Have either of you even held a sword before, or a bow for that matter? Hell, do you even know any magic or have any other means or knowledge with which to defend yourself?" Tastol knew how angry and spiteful his words would likely sound, but sending defenseless women into this world, beautiful as they were, was setting them up in the worst way imaginable. Even children would be better off, because the only thing they had to fear was death. A beautiful and defenseless woman, however, could suffer fates far worse than that.

Only when his rant was finally done did Tastol finally approach Zaria once more. He knelt before her and met her blue gaze with his own steady violet one. "If you and your sister are both mortal now, isn't there the added risk that one of you might just try and hunt down the other and kill them, or hire others to do it for you? I mean hell, I haven't even agreed to be your champion. What's to stop me from killing you right here and now?"

The words were barely out of Tastol's mouth, and without any real intent when the answer came. A sudden pain shot through his head, pain that was so excruciating a scream of agony found it's way to his lips before he had any chance of resisting it. He collapsed onto the stone, writhing and screaming in pain as his hands clutched at his head in a desperate and vain attempt to make it stop.

Tastol didn't know how much time had passed before the pain finally stopped, but when it finally faded away he let out a soft sigh of relief as he let himself collapse against the stone floor in utter exhaustion. His only respite just then was that they were the only people in the church just then.

"Your father really is an asshole..." Tastol said loud enough for Zaria to hear. "As if I needed another reason to hate the gods..." He said as an afterthought of sorts as he slowly rolled over so that he could push himself to his feet once more. "I don't know about you, but I need a drink..." He moved his hands to undo the clasp of his cloak and slid it from his shoulders, revealing a simple but comfortable cotton shirt and trousers. He then extended his hand to her to help her up if she chose to take it, as well as offering his cloak to her. "It's colder out there than it is in here. You can use this until we get something more your size. We'll start with making sure you don't freeze or starve to death and then work out the details of this task of yours.
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Old 01-11-2017, 05:21 AM   #6
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She tried to stop the little quakings of her body, peculiar behaviour was becoming troublesome and an annoyance, yet it persisted no matter how hard she tried to still and calm herself. These mortal items of cloth and fibre were very offensive but it was better than nothing, for if she were this cold covered, how would it feel bare? Not something she wanted to consider nor try out for herself, she listened to Tastol’s ramblings and nodded in agreement… until he flopped over onto the floor and started making some awful sounds! “Tas..” She tried to say his name, but the noise and thrashing grew alarmingly erratic.

Alarmed at the noise he made, unsure the cause of it either, her hands went to her ears and pressed to try and mute down some of that howling! “By the Gods! Hati and Skoll do not make such racket!” Doubtful he heard her, when he finally stilled he said something about her father that was a bit.. confusing? “Ass hole?” Brows knit into a frown, she tried to imagine an ass with a hole in it and then pictured her father, not making the connection to how these two referenced one another?


"Have either of you even held a sword before, or a bow for that matter?”


“Yes, I am an Aurora. A guardian. We have trained for war, for protecting and to guard lesser Gods or demons, depending on what is held in our cells. Father wanted us to fight it out in the arena, but his new wife did not wish to see bloodshed and was feeling put out. She is carrying his one hundredth and one children. Another set of twins, much like myself and my sister, Zoria. As each of his numerous wives have been unable to produce him sons, he started these games a few centuries ago..” She paused and look to where Tastol was now upright and moving.

“He is a God with hundreds of daughters and nothing more to task them with to keep us from his hair, throne and from annoying him. So every so many centuries, he would pick siblings and task them with various things. Usually dangerous and one by one, they would disappear. He wished to skip the games part and merely have us fight it out, but it is far more complicated than that. As I am the evening star, my sister is the morning star. If we die, so will the Sun, or in my case, the Moon. Well.. Many moons, I have a few attachments.” She shrugged it off and stood up to follow him.

“I have nothing of home I may use, it would be cheating. So my armour and weapons had to remain behind.” Her eyes lift then to find him, taking his hand as he helped her to her feet, a smile lighting up in appreciation for the assistance. “My thanks, Tastol.” The cloak slid readily to her shoulders and finally a bit of that odd quaking ceased. “I feel …. So different.” She was not a weakling, but she had a note of distress in her tone despite her best efforts not to.

“I have none of my God powers. No weapons, no gold or gems and most certainly not magic. Those were skills for others to pursue.” She touched off finger tips as she counted off the things she no longer had at her disposal. “A drink? What does one drink? And why do you hate us, Tastol?” She paused then to address the one thing he had stated that did capture her full attention. Hate is such an ugly word, a destructive feeling. Tugging the scratchy hood up and over the top of her blonde head, she fixed her dark blue eyes on Tastol as if she could read his mind to get that answer sooner than he would speak.
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Old 01-14-2017, 02:31 PM   #7
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It was impossible for even Tastol to not crack a small smile as he listened to crack a small smile as he listened to Zaria list off all of the things that she was going to have to live without for the duration of her mortal existence. He had turned his back to her and was about to head towards the door when her final question caught his attention.

"And why do you hate us, Tastol?”

"Because of whichever idiot god decided it was a good idea to create vampires, a parasitic and otherwise useless race with no redeeming qualities to speak of."

Tastol's initial response to Zaria's question came before he had a chance to question whether or not this was a conversation he wanted to have right now. With the initial response already out in the open, though, he threw caution to the wind, turned back towards her, and finished answering her question.

"As if that wasn't bad enough, they also decided to not only let them multiply using the human population, but also create a half-breed through conventional breeding, but with a likelihood that is so low it feels like the god themselves chooses when it happens. It wouldn't be so bad if the birthing process alone wasn't a near-certain death sentence for the mother, leaving the child an orphan."

Tastol's eyes slowly changed from violet to red as he continued to speak, his anger growing with each reason that had been reasoned out over his centuries of life.

"As if being an orphan wasn't bad enough, try imagining life as an orphan half-breed with nobody to teach you what you are and explain the thirst that no water can quench, that hunger that no food can satisfy."

Tastol stepped slowly towards Zaria as he continued to speak.

"It starts as a tickle in the back of your throat, barely noticeable at first. Then it grows into a scratch that you keep trying to clear your throat to get away from. The next step is when your entire mouth becomes as dry as cotton. Your sense get so hyper-aware that you swear that you can hear the heartbeat of every person around you. It's at that point that instinct kicks in, telling you what your body needs, blood."

Tastol stopped in front of Zaria then, holding her gaze with his own dark red one.

"I almost killed the first person I fed from, and after that, I had to flee for my life from the town guards that wanted to execute me for being the monster that I am. I spent the next several years living on the streets feeding off rats, mice, and stray animal, anything I could find to not have to feed off of another person..."

Tastol let his words trail off before he finally shrugged his shoulders.

"An entire race, regardless of how few of them there have been is damned to either an existence of solitude or to watch any friends they do find perish as they live for eternity. And when their eternal lives to finally end by some means or another, they are doomed to rise as vampires, the very creature that caused their existence in the first place, all of which was caused by one decision made by one damn god! How would you feel Zaria?"
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Old 01-14-2017, 04:00 PM   #8
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Zaria

She did not really know what exactly a vampire was, but she had a suspicion it was something dark and sensual... if she had to guess based on that predatory movement he was doing and those eyes! Her heart sped up, not sure why but she also grew hot all over and tickled in places that made her eyes widen at first.. and then darken as he drew nearer.

Something should have warned her internally, but it had not. She had watched Tastol for awhile now, when time permitted.. and she knew he were not the man who would cause undue harm. Still, something should have warned her to be on guard...

"Oh that is.." her breathless whisper was barely audible, her hand reaching to touch his face as she stared into those red eyes with excitement, curiosity and a few other emotions she did not label. "So sexy.." She flashed a dimpled grin as she touched his face, eyes searching his. "Can you do that when ever you want to or do you not control such things?" She hadn't peeked too much into Tastol's life, especially his private ones but now she was wishing she had.. just a wee bit.. ok alot!

"I and my sister take turns guarding a horrible creation. From sundown to dawn, my shift. For oh.." She paused and started counting on her fingers, in her head as her eyes drifted down his chest, lost in thought a bit. "Twelve thousand one hundred and six days, I started the night I were born.. So I have not seen such before.." She at some point in her counting, stopped touching him but she could feel him still upon her hand, that heat, as it dangled at her hip. Glancing up once more into those eyes, she felt her pulse leap once more and warmth spread...

Was this how a doe felt?

Her thoughts caused her brows to knit together in confusion. "I do not know much, well.. nothing of your race, but I do know God's and Goddesses.. They do things, trifle and sometimes horrible, out of boredom.. I do know that I can change your fate.. Well I could have, until Father stripped my godhood away." She wanted to touch him more, but he was a bit close and large and did not seem in a cuddly touch-me mood. She should have brought mortal trinkets with her, maybe he would be less angry? If this was angry, hard to tell without being able to read one's mind what they are thinking.

She squirmed a bit, shifting foot to foot, trying not to be intimidated or put out to have him hovering so closely. It was a strange new feeling but it was a bit disturbing too at the same time. No one had been THIS close to her, other than Zoria since birth. Battle of course did not count.

Gods! Why can't I read your mind?!
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Old 01-14-2017, 05:17 PM   #9
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Zaria's response to his words caught Tastol completely off guard, both her words and the hand that reached up to touch his face. Despite his surprise, though, he did not push her hand away, or even try and shrug away from it. Her touch was soft and gentle, two things that he was not used to. When he took it upon himself to deal with his carnal cravings he did so in a manner more akin to business than pleasure, taking what he needed he needed with little care for the woman he was with at the time.

Tastol blinked first and bowed his head away from her gaze. The redness in his eyes faded as his anger dissipated, fading until his eyes were their normal violet color.

Zaria's words about him and his species was another shock. He let her finish her own story, something that was hard for even him to comprehend. Even he couldn't imagine what it was like to do something like that for that many days in a row.

Seeing Zaria shift her weight from foot to foot made Tastol realize how close to her he was still standing. He'd naturally stepped this close to accentuate his story and the anger that it made him feel, but now he stepped back, hoping to put her at ease.

"I'm told that my eyes turn red when I get angry. Reliving my past brings up a lot of emotions, and my eyes naturally change as a result. Knowing that I might be te product of some born whim of a god or goddess of creation only makes me that much more angry about the whole thing..."

Tastol once again let his words trail off, this time as he stepped back to sit in one of the long stone pews lining the church.

"Something doesn't make sense though, Zaria." If you knew nothing about me or what I am, then why would you choose me as your champion? Why wouldn't you choose a paladin, cleric, or a religious zealot? I mean I am literally a monster who kills vampires just for being what they are. I torture, maim, and kill whomever I have to to find and kill of my target..."
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Old 01-14-2017, 05:46 PM   #10
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Zaria

Her mouth opened and then closed, a frown forming once more across her face.
"I meant I do not know much about a vampire, or how they came to exist.. how You came to be." She smiled a little, "I do know you, when I had time from guarding to watch over you." She shift and then cocked her head to eye him through her lashes, "You assume you are a mistake or someone's boredom play thing. Did it never cross your mind, like a paladin, you are also a noble creation?" She asked, clearly knowing the answer before he thought it over to reply.

"You assume, it is not wise to do so. Even monsters need slayers, and often times it is the same monster needed to regulate their own. Is this not true of Kings and the people? While a paladin will do his fighting in the name of some mortal man or random God, you do not profess to do what you do for any one other than yourself. To wipe off this world what you see as a stain of sickness here only to destroy. I may not know vampires, or whom made your race but I do know nothing is here without purpose, Tastol. My father would remove you if you were not doing something deserving. He does not suffer fools nor idiots." She finished off by crossing her arms under her breasts and giving him a lecturing stare.. One she recalled well her mother had taught her to do.

She took his arm, elbow linking so she could walk with him as they spoke. "I have watched you when time permitted, it was not for long, but I watched enough to know you will do what is right, even to spite your self. You will not do what someone commands of you like a Paladin. You have proven yourself noble time and time again. As I stood sentry over the worst beings imaginable, you spent your time removing the very same type of being from this world, saving mortal life. Same as I. I questioned my father when he demanded my sister and I fight, as did she. It is not normal to question the orders of the Gods.. Even if you are their child. You, I dare say, would do the very same." She turned to give him a smile, lighting up her face. "And so Tastol, here we are. Faced with an impossible task and mortality chasing our heels, together."

She bent then a bit closer to sniff at him, something from some where was ...
"What is that scent?" She asked as her stomach rumbled rather loudly, churning and growling. Both brows went up, "Did I make that noise?" She asked in a hushed tone. She knew what food was, she just never really had to have it. This however, was embarrassing! To say the very least.. Her face flamed red, "I can not believe mortality is this.. gross!" She hissed under her breath. She had seen mortals eating and Gods as well, just never felt hunger before nor reacted to smell like this.
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Old 01-16-2017, 11:11 AM   #11
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Even as Tastol let Zaria link her arm with his and pull his out of the pew, he couldn't help but wonder why he was letting her do it. He'd never let anybody close to him, least of all a woman, and yet here he was. Maybe it was because she was immortal just like he was, or rather even more immortal than he was...if that was possible. Even though they'd been living in completely different worlds, the two had somehow been doing similar things. Hell, he wondered why he had never thought of his situation the way she had just put it. He'd spent so much time thinking about the bad things that had led him up to this point, that he hadn't actually considered the fact that it had all been an unfortunate means to an end.

Zaria's question pulled Tastol out of his own head, but it was her second question that actually pulled another chuckle from him.

"Yes, Zaria, that was your stomach. It seems that your father couldn't even be so kind as to start you off on this journey with a full stomach, though I sadly can't say that I am surprised."

After he spoke, Tastol sniffed the air before turning to her and speaking once more.

"What you are smelling is bacon, and while we do have a few other errands to run today, they can wait until after breakfast."

With that said, Tastol turned them towards the direction of the smell, the large tavern at the center of the small town. He pushed open the swinging doors and let his eyes scan the place. The place was about half-full, filled with what were likely the place's regular customers getting breakfast before starting their day. Nobody really stood out, but he was never really one to let his guard down, and tat was certainly not going to change now that he had somebody to look after. He escorted her towards the bar and gestured towards one of the stools as he sat down in the one beside it.

Tastol gestured towards the bar maid. "Bacon, eggs, and a mug of ale for the lady, and I'll take a bottle of wine." As he spoke, Tastol reached into his pocket and pulled out a platinum coin and passed it to the woman. "This should cover the tab I expect, and the rest is yours." The woman looked down at the coin with a look of disbelief.

I...but...it's too much..." The woman stammered.

Tastol simply chuckled and replied. "Sadly it will have to do. I don't carry anything less. When the woman finally picked up the coin and turned around to tend to their meal order, Tastol turned his attention to Zaria once more.

"You're actually in for quite a treat. One can never truly appreciate the taste of food until they've been hungry."
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