Post by Sileauniamh on Sept 21, 2008 22:38:12 GMT -5
"Agaryulnaer," a soft voice declared. "Khila amin!"
The cloaked figure watched as a trio of lithe elves dashed by, their long knives drawn and gleaming in the darkness. Their steps went unheard across the ground, and they wove in and out of the trees with the nimble grace of those familiar with the area. Soon they became nothing more than gray shapes in the night, and only their melodic voices were heard as they slipped away deeper into the forest, ignorant of their prey that lingered back in
the shadows.
Mintiper's long white fingers flitted down across the cold hilt of his sheathed blade as he emerged from his chosen alcove of impenetrable darkness, his ebon cloak writhing with whispers about his legs. He'd come closer than he desired to being revealed this night, and he silently cursed his haste in acquiring a victim so close to civilization. He was unaware that three elven guards had been patroling the narrow strip of road that wound
through the countryside to Shadowspire Keep, and had heard even the strangled groan of his victim's plea before the first quaff of blood flowed hot into his mouth.
"Tampa!"
There was the scrape of metal, and pale moonlight trickled down the length of an elven guard's sword as it was drawn. This one had strayed back in the shadows Mintiper was most comfortable with, perhaps sensing the nature of the vampire's tactics more so than his three companions. Mintiper pivoted with unnatural speed, his sword naked and deadly with a simple flick of his wrist.
The elf thrust forward with admirable skill, but the vampire was predicting the move, and upon slapping the attack aside, followed through with a terrible spin and slice that caught the elf just under his sword arm, disabling him and leaving him victim to the quick jab of Mintiper's pommel into the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted across the elf's face, and his weapon clattered to the earth as both his hands flew up to quell the flow of
crimson.
Mintiper wasted little time. He reversed his grip so his pommel faced the heavens, and with an impassive expression brought his sword slamming down into the elf's chest. He was already springing from the scene and sheathing his blade before the body slumped into the dirt. His legs carried him through the forest as if he was borne of the night, an extention of her swift, black arm seeking to smother all crevices in her reign.
The forest withered away to a few stray trees, and a great sea of rolling gray fields opened before him. Disturbing its placid stetch was Shadowspire Keep, tall and proud in the evening, its dim lights instilling a warmth inside the cold chapel of his body. He paused, fingers still caressing the hilt of his sword reassuringly as he gazed at the structure with lapis, reflective eyes. Midnight's breath stirred his sable locks about the
statueqsue planes of his macabre countenance.
"Jausserande." His voice was like a satin ribbon unfurling from some long forgotten tomb. He offered a glance over one curved, toned shoulder in the direction from whence he'd come, and then snapped into motion again, a mere smudge slicing through the grass toward Shadowspire Keep, his icy blood threatening to stir and ebb at the very mention of the name.
Originally posted:Date:09 Sep 2002 18:47:16 EDT - Mintiper