Saturday, January 12, 2013

Meet Alicia Johnston

Name:             Alicia Marie Johnston
Age:                19
Height:            5’ 3”
Weight:           114lbs (51.7kg)
Eyes:               light brown
Hair:               dirty blonde with streaks of black feathers
Title:               None at this time


David Johnston met Marie Whitcombe in elementary school and was instantly smitten. A pretty little girl with pale blonde hair, Marie was sweet, fun, and totally enchanting to the eight year old. His opinion never wavered as they grew from playmates on the schoolyard to classmates in high school. He watched the young girl flit from boyfriend to boyfriend, never staying with anyone for long and always looking just a little more desperate with each breakup.  They were in their junior year when he finally dredged up the nerve to ask her to dance and was elated when she agreed. They talked as they danced and discovered they had so much more in common than simply going to the same school. Within a week, they were actively dating.

The couple was inseparable that year and their friends teased them by humming the wedding march whenever they walked down the school halls. Marie’s family made little comment on her new boyfriend. Her mother was a self-absorbed narcissist who flitted from one affair to another in an effort to recapture the eye of her workaholic husband. Her father spent more time at the office than at home, even on weekends, due to a succession of young and curvy secretaries. Their daughter was often forgotten as they sought their pleasure and purpose away from the house and she acted out by seeking the attention she craved from her parents from her friends and boyfriends. David had been unlike the boys she’d dated who’d only wanted her because she was quickly gaining the reputation of being ‘easy.’ He’d actually understood.

David’s parents weren’t as thrilled with their relationship as he could have hoped. His mother, a production line worker at the local textile mill, wanted more for her son than could be found in their small town. His father, a construction worker, encouraged him to take what Marie so obviously passed around and then drop her when it was time to look towards the future. Both of his parents had been saving for him to go to college and their plans didn’t include what they so eloquently called ‘the school whore.’ When Marie discovered she was pregnant during their summer break, David’s parents offered to pay for her abortion. It caused a huge argument and he didn’t speak with either of them for several years.

Marie’s family allowed the young couple to stay with them until David graduated. She had quit school to deliver and then raise her child. David worked after school with several construction companies until he signed on with the largest company in town. He worked for them, moving up from part-time to full-time and even into lower management until they were able to purchase a small house at the edge of the more questionable side of town. They live there happily until his demonic nature began manifesting.

Little Alicia was the center of her parents’ universe. Marie had been determined not to ignore her child as she’d been ignored while David was enchanted at such a tiny mirror of his beloved wife. She grew to be a bright child, testing well on her preschool exams, and was super excited about going to school like all the older children in their neighborhood. Somewhat stifled by her mother’s attention, she adored the time spent with her father the best and had extracted from him a promise to take her to school on her very first day. He swore that not even an alien invasion could stop him from being there. The young man was ultimately forced to break his promise.

Her father left the family just before she was to enter kindergarten. Unknown to Alicia or her mother, David Johnston had begun to manifest demon characteristics and left for fear he’d hurt his family. Her mother was unable to handle his abandonment returned to the destructive behavior of her youth and drifted from one bad relationship to another. Some of the men ignored her young daughter; some paid her too much attention. Marie either did not notice or chose to ignore the inappropriate behavior of Alicia’s “uncles” and the girl learned early to avoid the many men in her mother’s life.

When Alicia’s mother met Markus Andrealphus, he seemed the answer to both their prayers. He was sweet to Alicia without being creepy and loving and attentive to Marie. He listened to their troubles, offered help where he could, and refused to allow Marie to self-destruct any further by sabotaging the relationship. After six months, he convinced her to marry him. That’s when everything changed for the worse.

The moment he had the two women in his house and under his control, he changed. No longer the loving spouse and step-father, Markus became dictatorial and abusive – both physically and emotionally. He kept Marie in line with threats against her daughter, limited access to contact with those outside her husband’s circle of friends, and ‘discipline.’ Within a year of their marriage, relaxing weekends with the family had evolved into lascivious orgies with Marie as the party favor. She was passed from one man to another, unable to refuse or risk a whipping in front of them all, and treated worse than the cheapest whore.

Alicia had just turned seventeen the first time she was forced to attend. Markus came into her room, stripped her naked, attached a collar and leash to her neck, and led her into the party. The men were allowed to touch her and she was whipped if she attempted to refuse them; but the worst of them all was her stepfather. Markus tied her into a chair so that she could watch the ‘fun’ – namely, her mother service three of his friends at once. As her moans and cries of both passion and pain rang through the room, her step-father fondled and caressed her untouched body. His fingers and tongue skillfully played over her erogenous zones and brought her to her first orgasm. Those in the room who weren’t involved with her mother cheered Markus for finding such a responsive slut. Alicia was humiliated.

The months that followed contained more of the same. He threatened to kill them both if she told anyone at school what was going on and she believed him. Markus climbed into her bed every night and forced some new violation on her – whether it was teaching her how to give the perfect blowjob or bringing her to another of those humiliating orgasms, he let her know that her body belonged to him. Her role in the parties, however, never changed nor did she ever lose her virginity. As her birthday approached, her step-father let her know all that would change. She fled just before she turned eighteen.

Alicia masqueraded as a boy and hitchhiked her way north feeling that a large city would help her disappear more than her small southern one. She managed to panhandle for coins or do odd jobs to survive for about six months. Then the economy took a downward turn and people were less generous with their change. That’s when she started stealing to supplement her meager income. She’d gotten fairly skilled at basic pick-pocketing which led her to the club the night she met Francisco. Her fingers were on his wallet when the Colonel’s men attacked.

Alicia dismissed her actions with the children as being born of necessity.  She claimed that safety in numbers was all that enticed her to remain and aid the wounded vampire escort the young ones to safety. Her actions in saving the life of the young she-wolf cub resulted in a near-fatal wound. She only survived due to the tireless work of the Arbiter’s elven healers and a few drops of vampire blood from her new friend, Francisco.

As she recovered, she met the vampire who stirred her heart and lusts and made something dark and shadowy inside her crave more. Blake Simons, an Investigator for the vampire council and wealthy business owner, had arrived to speak to the local Council Chairperson and caught her enticing scent. He was handsome, smooth, arrogant, and not human…and reminded Alicia far too much of her step-father for her peace of mind.

She’s tried to deny their connection but, after six centuries of seeking his mate, Blake isn’t about to let her go. Alicia’s not sure she wants him to.

Friday, January 4, 2013

Meet Blake Simons - Investigator

Name:            Lord Blake William Simons
Age:               697 (human: 1315 - 1348, vampire: 1348 - present)
Height:           6’2”
Weight:          200lbs (91kg)
Eyes:              Dark Brown
Hair:               Dark Brown
Title:               Primary Investigator for the Primus Concilium


Blake Simons was the eldest son and heir to the Lord of Blakeston Croft, a small village in Lancashire County, England. Due to their remoteness, the village had little contact with the horrific plague that was slowly ravaging great portions of Europe beyond tales sung by wandering criers and heralds. That changed in the summer of 1348 when a lady and her entourage requested a few nights rest at Blakeston Grange on their way to the coast.

Lady Lucinda Mathison had appealed to Blake’s father for lodging and, bowled over by her beauty as well as mindful of his duty as lord, the elderly Lord William Simons readily granted her request. The deaths started immediately. The first to die were the village’s indigent population – men who preferred cheap rum over honest work and thus were sleeping in the streets as well as women who bartered their bodies in exchange for a hot meal or a strong drink. As the weather that summer had been unusually hot, few paid much attention or, truthfully, mourned their loss.

The fear and rumors began when an entire family on an outlying farm was discovered by a farmhand. All were in their beds and seemingly died in their sleep – father, mother, and three children ranging in age from five to eleven. The patriarch even wore a faint smile on his face. While most of the villagers attributed the deaths to the plague, a few whispered of creatures of the night and evil spirits while warding themselves and their homes from the devil. The local priest saw his congregation grow that week as frightened peasants sought to find comfort in God and protection from the evil they felt growing in their small village.

The Grange wasn’t unaffected.

The elderly Lord Simons had fallen ill with a wasting disease that weakened him more with every passing day. The barber had come and applied leeches to balance the blood. The vicar had prayed for his soul and the blessing of their Lord. Neither seemed to work and his health steadily declined. Bleeding to release the evil spirits followed the leeches but only served to further weaken the titular lord. Within weeks, the house was draped in black as they prepared for his death.

A week had passed since their arrival and the young heir had grown suspicious of the Grange’s new guests. He’d watched them carefully but could find no fault in their Mistress. She spent her days soothing his father during his illness and her nights alone. By chance, he caught the coachmen and lady’s maid sneaking off the property in the dead of night and followed them to a nearby tenant farm.

The moon was high and bright, enabling the nobleman to watch in horror as the façade of humanity dropped from the servants to reveal demons with blood-stained fangs and glowing red eyes. The three fell upon the elderly woman, their fangs striking her neck, wrist, and upper thigh while her husband slept in the next room. Sated, they disappeared through the connecting door. Before Blake could move, they emerged carrying a large bundle wrapped in cloth.

Sick with horror and fear, the noble heir followed the trio back to the Grange. Using servant’s stairs and hidden passages, he tracked of the human-looking demons he’d welcomed into his home to their Mistress’ room. From behind a portrait, he watched as they unwrapped the bundle to reveal the husband of the woman they’d killed. He watched as the beautiful Lady Lucinda transformed into the same demon he’d seen in the tenant house. He watched as she gorged herself on the blood of the innocent.

Over the next fortnight, Master Blake systematically eradicated the creatures that masqueraded as human. He managed to destroy most of the coven before he was captured and brought before the vampires’ mistress, Lady Lucinda. She attempted to seduce him into her coven, extolling the virtues of her strength and speed, and offered him a place to rule by her side – a god to her goddess. His refusal was met with fury and she turned him against his will, fully believing she was strong enough to command his loyalty. Her error cost her everything – her position, her coven, and her life – as Blake used his new strength to finish what he’d begun. When all had fallen, he read his father his last rites, severed his head from his body, and then set fire to the Grange to prevent Lord William’s rise as a creature of darkness.

Years later, he learned that his precautionary actions concerning his father had been unnecessary and went on a killing rage. Dozens of vampires fell to his claws and fangs and blades before he was brought before the censure and power of the Primus Concilium – the vampire ruling body. Recognizing the intelligence and power in one who’d not yet reached his first century, the Primus offered him a deal – work for them as an Investigator and, sometimes, executioner or meet his end. Blake has worked directly for the Primus ever since. 

His first assignment was to investigate the apparition of a god-like being during the Siege of Constantinople. With several covens augmenting both the Byzantine as well as the Ottoman Armies, the Primus was concerned that one had recruited one of the magical races to provide a bit of religious inspiration in order to win the conflict. Blake spent over a decade questioning every vampire, shifter, and witch in both volatile nations but found little proof either for or against the theory. Though he felt that he'd failed in his task, the Primus was impressed with his thoroughness and rewarded him for his efforts. 

Fascinated by the culture as well as enjoying a land that didn't look askance at his proclivity for sexual sadism and domination, Blake remained in the Ottoman Empire. There, he honed his skills with a whip - from the gentlest flogger to the barbed cat o' nine tails - and used them on his partners and enemies alike. His reputation amongst the human population of the skilled but cold lover grew to equal the rising respect of the local covens as a cruel opponent and he cultivated both images with alacrity. 

Publicly, however, his elegance, sensuality, and exotic beauty assured him a place in the court of the Sultan, Mehmed II, and he rose from the position of foreign guest to royal advisor over a limited span of years. So quickly did he move through the intricacies of court that many spoke of witchcraft and plotted against him. Those who spoke out against him usually experienced his recently-acquired skills at torture first hand until they recanted or succumbed to their injuries. It was his connections and preternatural speed that ensured Bayezid II reached Constantinople before his half-brother, Cem, to assume the throne of the Empire. It was also his accumulated wealth and inside information which persuaded the Knights of St. John to turn against Cem, escort him out of Rhodes and into France, and keep him there. Blake left the Ottoman Empire prior to the turn of the century to avoid further complications with the human population. Having not yet attained his second century as a vampire, he hadn't learned to control and manipulate his appearance in order to simulate aging. This meant that he had to move often to avoid difficult or dangerous questions.

He spent the next two hundred years working for the Primus and learning - and pushing - his limits as a vampire. He also caught the eye of the oldest amongst them, Queen Hauhet, leader of the Primus and one of the Firsts. The reputed matron of the entire vampire race was enchanted with the handsome Englishman who took such delight in destroying his own kind. They even became lovers for a time, exchanging blood as a sign of respect, affection, and trust. He grew stronger as a result and learned to temper his distaste for vampires and rose to the rank of Primary Investigator, the only vampire to do so that was not one of the founders of their kind.

Blake traveled the world in his role of Investigator, making few friends but many enemies. Those friends he did manage to keep are as loyal to the intimidating vampire as he is to his own way. It was in his role as Investigator that he met the man who would become his only Child, Augustin CalmetHe considers August to be both the son he will never have as well as the brothers he outlived half a millennium ago. He has already destroyed an entire coven for the former monk and would do so again and more if it was required. Until recently, he would have gladly died for his Child as well but circumstances have made him rethink that position.

As the human world evolved and became more civilized, at least outwardly, so too did the vampires. They set up regional and local governing bodies, policed their own when the need arose, but were always under the watchful eyes of the legendary members of the Primus. Blake’s role evolved as well and he’s become more of a true Investigator than executioner. With more time on his hands, he’s returned to running his business while accepting commissions from the local Vampire Council run by his oldest friend, Lady Elizabeth Pierce. It was during one of these commissions that he met his mate in a young human woman by the name of Alicia Johnston and nearly lost her to the ambitions of a greater violence demon from the Seventh Circle of the Infernal Plane.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Meet Devereux Armentage - Councilman

Name:             Devereux Armentage
Age:                245 (human: 1767 – 1788 vampire: 1788 – present)
Height:            5’11”
Weight:           175lbs (79.4kg)
Eyes:               Pale Blue
Hair:               Dark Brown
Title:               Councilman for the North Eastern US Vampire Council representing the state of


Devereux François-Michel Armentage, Vicomte de Rouen, was the eldest son of the Michel Jean-François Armentage, Comte de Rouen, and Marguerite Isabeau Armentage nee Devereux, Comtesse de Rouen. His upbringing, like many children of noble parents, was relegated to a succession of nannies and tutors with little interaction with his birth parents unless he participated in some mischief that required discipline. In his quest for attention, his antics grew until his father sent him away to boarding school.

His first years at the prestigious Collège de Sorbonne were unmitigated hell. As a fresh young lad straight from the smaller viscounty of Rouen, Devereux was adventurous and gullible – a dangerous combination in the cutthroat halls of the university. The hazing by the older students often left the nobleman beaten, humiliated, and broke. Two long years passed before things began to improve.

His relief came in the form of a middle-aged professor of Greek Literature. The instructor took the lad under his wing, tutored him in those few subjects his phenomenal memory was of little aid, and eventually schooled him in the art of love and passion. Devereux had dallied with many a maid by this point but his experiences all paled beneath the intense pleasure he received from his teacher’s hands, lips, and thrusting manhood. The pair experimented with all sorts of hedonistic pleasures and often brought a third or even fourth eager participant into their bed – be it male or female.

Though he reveled in the decadence of his instructor’s bed (and office, and the classroom after hours, and the hedge maze…), he was called home once the unrest that would become the Revolution began. His father, brothers, and Devereux packed their most precious heirlooms, secured the house, and began the journey to Le Havre to procure passage to England…and safety. Their plans were foiled just outside the port city, however, when their carriage was set upon by bandits preying upon fleeing nobility. When the dust settled and the bandits’ had faded into the wooded countryside, the Armentage family was either dead or dying and their heirlooms destined for the auction house or pawnshops.

Of all the things Devereux can remember with his eidetic memory, the three years that span the date his family left their estate to the date he made his first kill as a vampire remain a black smear in his mind. He has no memory of leaving the scene of his family’s slaughter. He has no memory of the vampire who brought him over. He has no memory beyond a faint impression of blood and death and terror. 

Most days he prefers it that way.

Since then, Devereux has created the persona of the hedonistic ne’er-do-well and lived it to its fullest. He is rarely seen without at least one lover of either sex, though most of the time he prefers couples. His mode of dress is flamboyant, a mix of eighteenth century decadence and new age bohemia, and goes far in hiding his inner torment. Underneath the studied ennui, however, is a backbone of steel and an unswerving loyalty to those he deems a friend.

(The picture is "Ezequiel" by Victoria FrancésHer work is amazingly good and I encourage everyone to go and drool.)

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Meet Elizabeth Pierce - Council Chair and Ambassador

World:            The Other Half, There's a Fine Line

Name:             Elizabeth Francis Pierce
Age:                217
Height:           5’ 4”
Weight:          115lbs (52.2kg)
Eyes:              brown
Hair:              dark brown
Title:              Ambassador to the Human-Other Summit, Council Chair of the New England Vampire


Lady Elizabeth Pierce was born three weeks early to an affluent noble family in Brighton, England in 1795. Her mother, suffering internal bleeding from a difficult breech birth, died within days of delivery and the doctors feared the child would soon follow. Elizabeth, however, was a strong infant and survived to grow into a precocious child. Lord Edmund Pierce, hoping for an heir and blaming her for the death of his beloved wife, spent little time with his young daughter and left her in the care of a succession of nannies and governesses.

As the child grew into a lovely young woman who was the very image of her beautiful mother, her father remained almost constantly in London attending a succession of parties and entertaining a multitude of mistresses. It was during one of these wild routs that Lord Edmund met Janus Fleming, Earl of Wiltshire. For nearly a year, the pair spent most of their time together drinking, gambling, and sharing women of dubious moral background. In an effort to maintain his position in society and his exalted place as the close friend of such a notoriously infamous nobleman, Lord Edmund spent more time than was financially healthy at the gaming tables. Unfortunately for the young Elizabeth’s father, he wasn’t wise enough to realize he was being fleeced by expert gamesters and watched as his modest fortune disappeared at the tables and race tracks.

As the summer of 1812 approached, Lord Edmund was horrified to learn just how completely he’d brought he’d family to ruin. A particularly debauched weekend at the Earl of Wiltshire’s Townhouse had seen the loss of the young Elizabeth’s dowry as well as the deed to all but the entailed properties. The Pierce family was ruined in the eyes of Society on the eve of the girl’s debut. Janus, who’d orchestrated his “friend’s” downfall, arrived just in time to convince Edmund not to take the “gentleman’s way out” with a shocking proposal: He’d restore Pierce’s fortune in exchange for his daughter, Elizabeth. Convinced that his friend intended marriage, Edmund agreed.

Their lives were never the same again.

Elizabeth was brought from the country to meet her “betrothed” and order her trousseau. After three months of balls, parties, and teas, her father whisked her away from Town and off to Lord Janus’ estate. Once they’d arrived, Elizabeth was escorted to her room while Edmund was taken to the meet the master of the house. Instead of a glass of brandy in the library, he was overpowered, gagged, thrown into a cell, and shackled to the wall. When the Earl joined him, the man’s crimson eyes glowing in the faint light which reflected off his elongated fangs struck terror into his heart. Somehow he’d fallen into the clutches of a monster and brought his daughter with him. With a wicked smile, Janus took great delight in educating the nobleman as to the identity of the orchestrator of his downfall. He praised the man for delivering to him such a lovely virgin prize. A prize that would be savored in all ways in the very near future.

Unsuspecting of the planned events, Elizabeth bathed in preparation for dinner with her charming and handsome fiancé. After her bath, several maids entered to help her dress for dinner - only they weren’t carrying any of the dresses she’d ordered. Though she protested most vigorously, she couldn’t overpower the inhumanly strong servants. The “maids” dragged her from her room in nothing more than a leather collar around her neck, cuffs around her wrists and ankles, and a sheer shift that revealed more than it concealed. Though she cried, begged, and fought them as much as she was able, the women easily forced her down to the cellar where her fiancé awaited her with a score or more similarly robed men.

Laid upon a stone altar to some pagan god or even Satan himself, Elizabeth sobbed her pleas until she was hoarse but they fell upon deaf ears. The maids threaded rope through rings in her cuffs and secured her, spread eagled and face up, on the cold, damp altar. She struggled but their knots held firm. When Janus stepped up to the altar, she still held onto hope that it was all some big joke and they’d have a laugh over tea. When he slid the robe from his body, his very naked body, she realized that not only was this not a joke but her fiancé was responsible for whatever was about to happen to her.

The night was long and filled with a multitude of emotions and revelations for the young, innocent girl. The knowledge that vampires existed in her world seemed almost pedestrian when compared to the vile acts they perpetrated upon her nubile body. Janus claimed her maidenhead but each man took his turn as they chanted prayers to an unknown god. When the night was through and she lay bleeding, sore, and raw from their use, her fiancé committed his foulest act: he turned her into a monster.

He denied her blood for nearly a week until her beast was almost insane with need and then he threw her a human meal. Her father. She couldn’t stop herself but she swore then and there that her master would pay for the evil he’d forced upon her.

She had just entered her seventy-fifth year as a vampire when she happened across Blake Simons. He was looking for a willing bedmate amongst the lower classes while she hunted a victim for her master. Fighting Janus’ influence, she begged the elder vampire to take her head and remove her from the hell her life had become. Instead, he helped her destroy her maker and rebuild her life.

Elizabeth took over some of Blake’s smaller corporations and, after almost fifty years of hard work, bought out his shares to become the sole owner. She’s had little to do with the vampire community over the years, preferring to remain as human as possible. It was because of this that the Primus Concilium assigned her a place on the New England Vampire Council. With an eye to protecting humans from evils her kind could inflict so easily, she dedicated all her time away from her businesses to the Council. This dedication was rewarded and she rose to Chairman over a decade ago and have held the post ever since.

Just prior to the Reveal, she met her mate in one of her students: a young man named Johannes Hunsinger. She could smell the taint of disease on his body, a disease that would take his life in the most painful of ways, and it was this knowledge of his mortality that convinced her to do the one thing she’d sworn never to do. She converted a human to the life of a vampire. Their joy eased her conscience and began healing the pain of her own conversion. This enabled her to bring a third into their small coven.

Her happiness knows no bounds and her soul is the closest to peace than it’s been in over two centuries.

(I believe the artist of the photo is Luis Royo, an incomparable fantasy artist whose work is simply exquisite. I wasn't able to verify that so any help there would be appreciated.)

Friday, May 18, 2012

Meet Augustin Calmet - Councilman

World:            There's a Fine Line
Name:           Augustin Calmet
Age:              266 (human: 1672 – 1757 vampire: 1746 – present))
Height:          5’ 8”
Weight:         180lbs (81.8kg)
Eyes:             blue
Hair:             white
Title:             Councilman for the North Eastern US Vampire Council representing the states of
Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont


Antoine Augustin Calmet was born February 26, 1672, at Ménil-la-Horgne, in the Meuse department, located in the region of Lorraine, France.  Destined for the church, he was educated at the Benedictine priory of Breuil in the town of Commercy, and in 1688 joined the same Order at the Abbey of Saint-Mansuy at Toul where he was admitted to the profession in October of the following year. After his ordination in 1696, he was appointed to teach philosophy and theology at the Abbey of Moyenmoutier. Here, with the help of his brethren, he began to gather the material for his commentary of the Bible. It was also here that he met a young man by the name of Drouet, a local who tended the store house and ran their errands into the nearby town.

Their meetings, at first, were infrequent for the lad preferred his solitude and Augustin respected his wishes. Augustin learned that the boy had been orphaned at a young age by disease and had travelled the continent ever since, working in many different churches of all denominations. While he confessed to not being the most pious soul, the beautiful structures, angelic music, and quiet solitude appealed to the lad. He also discovered that the young man had taken lessons in exchange for his work at one of the churches for which he’d worked and was a voracious reader. This sparked some of the most heated, and enjoyable, debates between the two that even drew the attention of many of his brethren.

The monk, whose books and treatises were elevating him slowly through the ranks of the church, was unwilling to lose his talks with the unique young man as he travelled from post to post on behalf of his Pope. He offered the lad a position as his personal valet, footman, butler, and anything else that was needed to keep the newly appointed Abbot’s life moving more smoothly. Though Drouet seemed uneasy about the arrangement at first, he reluctantly agreed and the pair settled into his spacious apartments at the Abbaye de Senones in Lorraine, France.

Augustin continued his holy work for the church while having some rather unholy thoughts about his new servant. He prayed and confessed and even scourged himself to be rid of his thoughts and desires but all to no avail. He wanted the boy in ways the church could never condone. The greater his torment, however, the better his work became as he pored his frustration and self-loathing into his dissertations. He was unaware of the nature of his valet or that what he was feeling was the pull of his mate.

It was a night like any other when he discovered the true nature of his serving lad. He’d burned through three full candles researching and making notes for his upcoming work, Commentaire littéral historique et moral sur la règle de Saint Benoît, a commentary on the history of St. Benedict, when he noticed a shadow entering the courtyard below his window. Fixing the shadow’s position in his mind, the now-elderly monk walked lightly down the stairs and through the back door in hopes of persuading any potential thief of the eternal consequences of their actions. Instead of a thief, he found Drouet collapsed in the roses in a bloodied and broken heap.

Awkwardly, the Abbot half-dragged, half-carried the young man into the study and fetched water, cloth, and spirits to tend his wounds. He prayed for lad’s swift recovery almost as often as he prayed for his own blackened soul for touching the soft, smooth skin of the beautiful young servant was like the answer to one of his unholy prayers. When he sponged the caked dirt and blood from the youthful face, however, the injured man’s eyes sprang open and they were changed – as crimson as the blood that stained his alabaster skin and filled with an unnatural hunger. Swift as lightning, the lad gripped his arm in fingers too strong to be human. Long, deadly fangs eased from the boy’s mouth, glinting in the candlelight before sinking deep into the vein in his wrist. The Abbot wondered if the devil had finally come for him for all his immoral thoughts when the pleasure hit. At nearly sixty years of age, Dom Augustin Calmet experienced his first orgasm from his mate’s bite.

It took weeks of prayer, debates, fasting, and discussions before the pair would concede to their rather unique relationship. Though it was officially frowned upon by all in positions of authority, many pious men in the church utilized the services of either men or women to slake their earthly lusts. It was fairly common knowledge both in and outside the church that several Popes had fathered children gotten on their mistresses during their papacy; it was less commonly known that some even kept male lovers as well. Researching these facts soothed the conflicted Abbot’s conscience somewhat and, though they could not be open about their unusual affection for one another, they celebrated the release of his work on St. Benedict by consummating their love at last. Augustin had just entered his sixtieth year.

Twice during the next decade of joyful exploration, toe-curling lovemaking, and philosophical debate, Dom Augustin was entrusted with the office of Abbot General of the congregation. During these years, they had to be slightly more careful of exposing their relationship to others but were otherwise unaffected by the additional duties of the office. It was only when Pope Benedict XIII wished to confer episcopal dignity upon him, that he saw the danger in his growing reputation. Allowing the Pope to believe that his humility could not be brought to accept the honor, Augustin graciously refused; stating his contentment with his post at the Senones Abbey and his duty to the congregation there.

Drouet continuously tried to convince the aging monk to cross over and become as he was, to live by his side forever, but his faith prevented Augustin from agreeing. It seemed to go against the very basis of his beliefs to deny his rightful judgment by St. Peter by avoiding death entirely. He did, however, begin work on the treatise that would ultimately cost him his mate, his happiness, and his life: Dissertations sur les apparitions des anges, des demons et des esprits, et sur les revenants et vampires de Hongrie, de Boheme, de Moravie, et de Silesie.

When the treatise was released in 1746, the vampire’s Primus Concilium ordered an investigation into the man placing their kind into danger by exposing the reality of their existence. Before the Special Investigator could arrive, one Blake Simons, the local coven that had long opposed the unusual mating of their kind to a human of the same sex decided to anticipate the Concilium’s ruling and attacked the pair in the Abbot’s home. By the time Blake had arrived, Drouet had been drained, dismembered, and his heart removed to prevent any hope of healing. Calmet, too, had been beaten and bled but he somehow remained at the very edge of death’s door. A pious, pacifistic monk, the sheer savagery of the attack spurred his yearning for vengeance against the coven that’d taken his mate. Blake changed the elderly man and helped him build a pyre for his beloved vampire servant. The elder vampire watched the monk’s faith dwindle as his lover’s body burned. There was little remaining of Augustin Calmet in the crimson eyes that watched the flame reduce the wood, flesh, and cloth to nothing but ash.

Their vengeance was swift, bloody, and necessarily savage. It was much a statement to others as it was a question of retribution. Calmet’s beast knew it was weaker than most, having been changed in the fading years of his life, and so it wished to preserve itself by denying that weakness in the most gloriously bloody way possible. The beast succeeded. The Concilium make a token protest at the destruction of the small coven of fifteen vampires but otherwise let the matter die. The treatise was mostly ignored by the learned population of Europe and the vampire scare soon faded under more pressing concerns. The Battle of Culloden in England, riots in Amsterdam demanding governmental changes, and the signing of the Treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle to end the War of the Austrian Succession all were of far more importance to the powerful vampire council than the fate of a single, disruptive coven.

Augustin secured his works and groomed his successor at the Abbey over the next ten years while Blake remained to help his newling adapt to his new life. Dom Augustin ‘died’ in 1757, a pauper’s body lying in the closed casket at his funeral. The newling and his Sire traveled the length and breadth of the world for almost a century until their separate destinies pulled them in different directions. It wasn’t until the end of the Great War when the former monk felt the metal touch of his Sire. Augustin had been working in a soup kitchen when Blake personally delivered his corporation’s weekly donations. They’ve been in close but guarded contact ever since.

For more information on Dom Augustin Calmet and his theological works, check out Augustin's Wiki Page. For my research on sexual practices of the clergy of the Middle Ages, I used This Page

(The photo on the left is a portrait of the actual Antoine Augustin Calmet, Benedictine monk and Abbot. The photo on the right is, of course, Sir Patrick Stewart - the yummy actor. The left represents Calmet when he was human. The right, Calmet in the modern world.)

Monday, May 14, 2012

Meet Lysavar Tinueth - Royal Shaman and Advisor

World:            The Other Half, There's a Fine Line
Name:              Lysavar Tinueth
Age:                1931 years
Height:            5’ 9”
Weight:           160 lbs (72kg)
Eyes:               Deep forest green
Hair:               medium brown
Title:               Royal Advisor, Royal Shaman


Born nearly 2000 years ago to a professor at the Malvarin Academy of Mystical Arts and his nymph mate, Lysavar grew up surrounded by both nature and magic. He was a small child, slim even by elven standards, and considered almost frail for most of his first quarter century until his powers began to manifest. Even at an early age, he showed an amazing affinity for earth magic – manipulating the local flora while still an adolescent and perfecting shape-changing magic by his second century.

His father’s position ensured him a place in the illustrious Academy but it was his swift advancement through his introductory lessons that assured him respect and envy amongst his peers. He quickly moved through Magical Theory, History of Mages in Malvarin and Beyond, and Practical Application in half the time and with better results than his contemporaries. Advancing so quickly meant he had lots of time on his hands, however, and so the young shaman began taking side courses to simply give himself a challenge. Due to his heritage, he gravitated towards anything dealing with earth magic – Herbalism, Comprehensive Components and Their Substitutions, and the Care and Feeding of Familiars and Totem Animals.

Studious and quiet, he quickly completed any and all courses offered in earth magic and was offered a position on the Malvarin staff as a researcher. Once more, he excelled in his chosen role, concentrating on researching cheaper or more readily available alternatives to expensive components. Though some of the staff at the Academy condemned his findings as encouraging even the lowest creature to dabble in magic, most praised his work for making the craft accessible to all who wished to learn of its beauty.

Lysavar spent over five centuries as a researcher before he felt the call to do more at the Academy. He’d advanced as far as he could in his chosen fields of research and wished to do more with his craft. Speaking first with his father and then with the Dean, he became one of the most heavily trained professors Malvarin had ever had. His courses ranged from basic courses such as The Flora and Fauna of the Fey Lands – What You Don’t Know Can Hurt You and An Introduction to the Creatures of the Human and Infernal Planes all the way to Advanced Component Substitution or Elimination and The Morality of Elemental Manipulation. It was in this last class that he met his most unusual student – Micipsa Zakhara, Warlord of the Ifrit – and, through him, the elf who would become his greatest and dearest friend – King Urúvion of Kedaunnor.

The young professor had heard the horror stories of the youthful djinni and assumed the only reason the powerful creature remained at Malvarin at all was due to the influence of his royal friend. His participation in the difficult philosophical course surprised Lysavar…and impressed him. While Micipsa had been a terror to the Professors of the Academy as a child, rarely taking his studies seriously, he had grown into a thoughtful, brilliant young Ifrit worthy of the title of Warlord of his race. Student and teacher could often be found discussing various points after class, sometimes drawing a crowd with their heated debates, and Lysavar’s well-informed replies and level head even in the face of the Ifrit’s rising temper prompted one of his peers to suggest he take a position in the Royal Guard.

Micipsa encouraged his former teacher to join the Guard while Urúvion was less than enthusiastic. As the day of his resignation from the Academy drew closer, their friendship grew more and more strained. Though he never actually spoke against his choice, Lysavar was aware of the king’s disapproval and it caused a rift in their friendship that lasted several centuries. It also created stumbling blocks in the young elf’s new career choice.

Even the disapproval of a king, however, wasn’t enough to prevent Lysavar’s rise in the Guard. His skill in the mystical arts as well as his natural ability to soothe ruffled feelings and emotions aided in his advancement. The skilled shaman quietly moved up in the ranks so that, by his 1500th year, he was under consideration for a position on the Royal Advisory Committee. When it became clear that the position would be his, the two former friends met, talked, and reached an agreement. Though Lysavar never learned why his friend objected to his joining the Royal Guard, they fell into an easy working relationship that rekindled their old friendship.

A mere 200 years had passed since he’d joined the Royal Guard when Lysavar was named the Royal Shaman and Advisor to the King of Kings. As the most trusted of those on the Advisory Committee, Urúvion often sent his Advisor on errands outside the fey lands – taking messages to their mutual friend, Micipsa, or assessing human or Infernal activity on other planes of existence. It was on one of these errands that the solemn young elf met with the vampire Investigator, Blake Simons.

The elder vampire was stunningly gorgeous with a hint of danger that appealed to the quiet elf. In the beginning, it seemed that the attraction was not mutual and the two settled into an odd sort of friendship while working towards their individual, yet similar, goals. Once they’d completed their tasks, however, Blake had invited Lysavar into his home in a northern county of England and gave rise to the elf’s hope that they could experience something more than simple friendship. Though his heart belonged to another, something about the dangerous, brooding vampire inspired Lysavar’s long-hidden mischievous nature to emerge and he commenced to flirting outrageously with his host. They parted ways amicably, if not more than slightly sexually frustrated, and the elf had left a Summoning Sphere upon Blake’s pillow…just in case.

Since then, the quiet, serious elf with the hidden mischievous streak has faithfully served his king and his people with unwavering loyalty. 

(The picture was taken from a random image search and bore no artist's name. The title of the original piece was Vanissar, King Dinasty. If this is your picture and you'd like for it to be properly credited or even removed, please let me know! I thought he was perfect for Lysavar.)

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Meet Urúvion Lithsumé - The Arbiter

World:            The Other Half, There's a Fine Line

Name:             Urúvion Lithsumé
Age:                4158 years
Height:            5’ 11”
Weight:           175 lbs (79kg)
Eyes:               Changing – depending on the magic he is currently channeling, Urúvion’s eyes can
                       range from the dark green of the deep forest to the pale blue of an ice floe to the
                       blood red of the darkest crimson. When he’s not actively manipulating magic,
                       however, they are a pale blue.
Hair:               Silvery-white
Title:               King of Kedaunnor, the Arbiter, King of Kings


Urúvion Lithsumé was born in the fae lands of Kedaunnor to His Royal Majesty, King Eirdaran, and Raina, His Beloved Queen. As a child, Urúvion showed great talent for magic – mastering each school with ease. By the time he was a mere seventy five years of age, it was clear he could no longer advance under the teachings of even the best royal tutors. King Eirdaran petitioned his son to be tested and, as a result, he became the youngest elf admitted to the prestigious Malvarin Academy of Mystical Arts.

The young prince spent more than two thousand years at Malvarin, returning to Kedaunnor only for important celebrations or royal events: the Second Millennia Celebration of his father’s reign; the marriage of his younger brother, Randdur; and the birth of his sister, Talaima. He spent centuries perfecting one school of magic only to be drawn by another that he would then strive to master. He became adept at both altering existing spells as well as eschewing the necessary materials most needed. Many of the other students, and some professors, regarded him with awe. He would be the greatest shaman ever to pass through the Academy doors. But, though he enjoyed mastering his craft, he missed his family and his kingdom. Upon his graduation from the final school, the prince refused an offer to aid in magical research and returned home.

Unfortunately, Kedaunnor was no longer as calm and peaceful as it had once been. Shortly after the birth of Urúvion’s sister, The Queen Matriarch of the neighboring kingdom of Voorhiven had proposed uniting the two powerful nations by wedding her eldest son to the Kedaunnor princess. Eirdaran had tentatively agreed with a few changes: he would only agree to allow the Prince court his daughter as he refused to wed her to a stranger without her agreement and the entire contract was null should she find her true mate. The Queen wasn’t happy with the changes but agreed; few found their mates within their first millennia and, once the two were wed and had produced an heir, Talaima could enjoy as many lovers as she wanted. Her plans were thwarted when Talaima informed the royal family of Voorhiven that, though she was greatly honored by their offer, she had recently found her soul’s mate in the ruling noble of Lidelaas, a small Duchy on the northern border of their lands. The couple had been tested and the mating was true; the agreement was null.

After the marriage of Princess Talaima and Duke Calaion, Urúvion was called to the human lands to perform a ceremony for a friend. He’d spent his last century at the Academy with Massena, an Ifrit Djinn, causing as much mischief as they possibly could and not get expelled. They’d formed a close bond and had missed being in the other’s company since their graduation. The elf had been overjoyed to hear that his friend had finally found his mate and honored to be asked to aid in their mating ceremony. He’d been fascinated with the human lands and spent over a hundred years exploring the world and learning the ways of its people before he received the urgent summons to come home.

Voorhiven had demanded compensation for the broken agreement, though they had no legal foundation upon which to base it, and war loomed. The only nations who’d backed the Queen Matriarch were those that bore their own personal grievances against the thriving nation. Meanwhile, the mage city-state of Malvarin sided with Kedaunnor, as did Lidelaas. The fighting began small, skirmishes to gauge strengths and weaknesses, and then all hell broke loose. Though Kedaunnor had magical might and sheer size over Voorhiven, the Queen Matriarch wasn’t bound by the rules of ethical combat or magical studies. She was a master of Death magic and used it freely and openly, much to the horror of her enemies and allies alike. If her men fell in battle, she’d raise them as mindless, shambling corpses or tormented ghosts – unleashing their thirst for vengeance upon all who stumbled across their paths.

In the face of such horror, Kedaunnor was forced into a controlled retreat.

Two hundred years into the war, an unexpected ally joined the besieged nation in the forms of Massena and his mate, Metucosa. Their son had retreated to the soothing flame of his primordial element following the death of his human wife and they had come seeking wisdom and assistance from their friend. What they found was a nation on the verge of succumbing to the evil forces of the Voorhiven Queen. The djinni, along with a select force of Malvarin shaman, fought tirelessly to turn the tide of the war. As a First, Massena’s Ifrit power was beyond formidable and it had been enhanced by his magical teachings at the Academy. In less than a decade, the Queen Matriarch had been captured, her undead army destroyed, and peace returned to the fey lands.

After the Queen’s trial and subsequent execution, King Eirdaran wished only for peace and abdicated his throne to his eldest son. The folk of Kedaunnor welcomed their savior as their king while the surrounding nations viewed him with suspicion. Conquering heroes tended to continue to conquer; however, Urúvion’s open and friendly manner, his unmatched magical skills, and shrewd political maneuvering soon put the others more at ease. His skills were such that soon he took on the role, and then the title, of Arbiter - an honorary title that few had held before him. None had ever been so young nor so successful. A time of peace and prosperity rose in the kingdom that soon touched all those surrounding it like the ripples on a lake. 

When the humans began yet another war, this one with potentially catastrophic consequences, Urúvion had been the natural choice to work with the other nonhumans. The rulers for each fae nation gathered and decided that a single voice would be better than sending dozens or more of their people into the human world. In order to give that voice the power to make decisions on their behalf, they created the position of King of Kings. - someone who knew their ways and would act in the best interests of their people. Once more, the King of Kedaunnor seemed the logical choice. Fascinated still by the human world, Urúvion agreed and never once regretted his decision.

Privately, however, his life wasn’t as fulfilling. He’d lost his closest friends with the deaths of Massena and Metucosa but found a greater one in their son, Micipsa. He’d wed a beautiful young dryad that, though she wasn’t his true mate, he’d loved dearly and with all his heart. After the birth of their second son, she’d disappeared into the forest to merge once more with her parent tree. She returned from time to time to check on her children but could no longer remain by his side.

The final blow to his happiness and peace of mind was when his true mate joined the Royal Guard. He’d never revealed to another living soul that he’d found his mate at a young age. The fae were an irreverent, joyful bunch but, in many ways, quite traditional when it came to the royal families. Urúvion’s mate made his soul rejoice, brought him happiness he’d never before known, and challenged him to be a better king and elf, but didn’t fit into the accepted role of the King’s Consort. Having just found peace after a horrific war, the young king feared what such a revelation would do to his world; and so, with a heavy heart, he’d suppressed the mating pull and denied himself the other half of his soul. 

(Edited with credit info on pic below- The picture I'm using for Urúvion is by kerembeyit and all rights and copyrights are property of the artist. I claim nothing other than he's a hottie!)