the old one’s
In a time long since passed humanity enjoyed a time of fruitful harvest and wealth like no time since. The times of grate bounty were attributed to the watchful eyes and strong hand of their protectors: the tall and beautiful Methuselah (sometimes called the moon people) and there cousins, the Gaiadren {pronounced Gee-dray-en} the Earthly spirits.
But wall man live in bliss not all was well amongst their parent races. Times grow tense between the immortals. The Methuselah grow apprehensive of the Gaiadren’s animalistic behaviors, there hungers for flesh both as food and to fulfill their strange sexual needs. As did the Gaiadren fear the favor the gods bestowed amongst the people of the night and the Alchemy that they wield.
The old ones saw that there was need of a new government if there was to be lasting peace. To this end called upon there favored children, the strongest and the wisest of their ken to perform a rite that would ultimately transform the two ancient races into a signaler being.
Gaia sent her most lovely daughter to meet with the King of Methuselah to being the hundred yearlong ceremony. But according to the tales the ‘Wolves’ tell today, she never arrived {in the modern age the Gaiadren began to call themselves Wolves} . The Vampires as they are called now blame the Wolves saying that the girl refused to perform the spell as it was written, the Wolves insist that there princess was murdered by the bloodsuckers. History has forgotten the truth.
As the old one suspected, war was just around the corner. A battle issued that over the course of the next thousand years would leave the world in ruins and the immortals crippled at the hands of their own weapons.
Most have forgotten the old ways but no one has forgotten the hate that came after. The Wolves still hunt the vampires, and the vampires are now more powerful and narcissistic than ever before.
Times became more and more desperate, The vampires feared that one day the Wolves would be numerous enough to overrun there cities and overthrow the near godlike over-beings that they had become.
It is true that the moon people never grow old, once they reach maturity they never age another day, as well as the moon people do not experience illness the way the lesser races do. But in all there splendor they are not without fears of their own. The Wolves harness fire to scar there timeless faces insomuch as to rob them of their beauty. Shortly they would then find that not even the alchemy of the Methuselah could heal the wounds left if the head were to be taken and the body burned to dust.
Furthermore there weakness lay within their lust for perfection and there slow mating rituals. It takes the Methuselah one hundred and fifty years to raise a child into adulthood. Well on the other hand a Wolf mother given fare weather and descent food need only ten years to give birth to and raise six children.
The Wolves chased the Vampires to the gates of their last Safe-haven expecting decisive victory after lifetimes of conflict. But the vampires would not die quietly. They called forth their heavenly favor to strike there nemeses with a powerful sickness that aged there enemies to a vulnerable state, stealing their strength. The wolves’ mightiest warriors were no more. Mighty beast that neared divinity in their prime are now reduced to scavenging hyenas.
The Vampires would recover from their wounds and rebuild their ruined monuments but the world was not without scars. The world has been broken into three distinctive lands. The blight in the south: an endless desert of ice containing a mammoth monolith, a lone structure, pillar five hundred feet high as a testament to Methuselah’s strength and the sources of the never-ending winter. Then the waist to the north: a land burned and salted to see to it no one ever live there again with a sister monolith to mark yet another irrefutable victory of the night gods. At last alone in the middle of it all ‘Paradeco’ A string of island virtually untouched by the carnage of the millennia of struggle as well as the new stronghold of the vampires.
To sleep with death
Life beneath the Methuselah king’s is good most would say, half of how have become so inebriated as to forget that they live beneath an entity that is neither man nor god. The Vampires construct schools and libraries, there subjects enjoy clean water, wine runs in abundances, women come cheap, and the price of live is low. All wealth is managed by the local lords or by task masters that the lord has appointed. Work hard and please your lord and your live a long and healthy life. But if you displease them you are collected as a ‘tax’.
There is little to no crime in the cities because the law is clear, one strike your out. Thieves, rapist, and killers are not tolerated. A deputy sees you commit a crime, there is no trial, no logistics, you simply disappear into the castle or monastery your lord presides within and you never return.
Human children living within the cities and townships ruled over by the vampires are conditioned to believe that the white skin, dark hair and sharp eyes of their masters are beautiful. Some even try to imitate the vampires to gain there attention dreaming of possibly joining there ranks. The Methuselah don’t truly have the power to transmogrify a human into a Vampire, but the flattery is welcome.
It has taken generations but the vampires have become numerous again. The children of the vampires that drove the Wolves to the brink of extinction are now coming to age and ascending positions of authority in the land that their fathers governed before.
The moon people can be as cruel as they can be fair, some of the younger ones have fancied playing games with their human servants changing them to ridicules games of predator versus pray. Utilizing the mythology of their namesake commanding their pets to try to kill them with shape sticks and fresh fruits before they are turned to pigs or cat or any number of other hysterical from, It’s not fare that’s true but to the sadistic it’s funny.
But in spite of good humor the pains of the past never subside. The older vampires remember the near humiliation that there wolf counterparts delivered and offer a rare treat to any skilled or brave enough to try. Bring a wolf to your master, bruised and broken as need be, but still alive and you or the individual of your choosing is deemed a noble with all the benefits in toe, up to and even including a bride of Methuselah dissent. This promise has inspired a newly born witch hunt. Everyone wants to be a king and if capturing a wolf is all it takes, so be it.
The place of man
do not mistake me child humans may be weak and small by comparison but they are far from useless, the vampires think of them as food and cheap entertainment, but they are in-fact frightfully intuitive and marvelously creative.
Man has a gift that none of the other races possess, the ability to ‘Dream’ therein making them fine artisans, and uncanny engineers. Most of the tools and artillery on both sides of the war were crafted by human smiths. The art, the architecture, most the culture of vampires was stole form human literature and the most devastating of devices in undead arsenal provided by human weapon-smiths. Yes it is true that Alchemy is powerful but when combined with tools of war humans make it becomes so much more. Be wary.
But it is not all bad. There is a bright side to the alliances, that would be renegades. Most noteworthy would be the ‘Pilgrims’ worthy friends indeed. The Pilgrims conjure of nightmares for their once masters. Savage fighters garbed in the skin of their fallen enemies with welding stolen weapons lurking in the night and slaughtering the kings they once served and freeing vampire slaves. No one can possibly understand the indignation that leads them to bestial life that they now lead. There is rumor that these savages and rejects are organizing and that is good news indeed.
Running with wolves
The skies are burned; food is in short supply it is a hard time to be alive if you haven’t sided with the bloodsuckers. But it is times like these that weakness gets bread out of a race and a stronger breed is born. The vampires hurt the Wolves only as much as they could be hurt. The prides have scattered almost lost to the winds. The elders had sent word out to ever man and women of breeding age that was still healthy and asked them to mate, mate with anyone around: man, wolf, or dog, isn’t important, mate as often as you can. The time would come soon to fight again and when the time came we would need every healthy wolf available. For twenty-two generations that would be everyone’s job. The order was clear and most ever one took the order for all it was worth.
Wolves are nothing if note adaptable. They relish in the opportunity to watch their prey learn from them and from each other. You see, they need to learn quickly for they unlike there equals do not enjoy immortality so much as they do timelessness, they still are subject to illness, they still bleed when cut, and if they stop eating they quickly turn to dust. For these reasons the wolves have learned to employ a variety of skills unique to them. Transmutation, mind games amongst the most prevalent, But as every vampire is unique so too is every wolf, so to call any beast common is to make a grave miscalculation.
The Night-stalkers had method to their madness when they froze the southlands. The way they saw it no one but a vampire could live out in the fridge blight. They were wrong. The wolves could do it to. But that was hardly there most impressive feet of deception, the wolves also learned how to mimic humans and vampires alike, how to wearer there cloths and fight with their weapons and lust espionage became there new favorite pass time.
Strange as it may seem, human made themselves out to be a much more useful assist then would have been believed. After all what good can mortals do in a battle between immortals? And so enter a strange walk of people calling themselves ‘Pilgrims’ there not sophisticated, there not strong, but they are fuelled by zealous rage, inspired by an unseen force and filled with lunatic determination. Ferocious and fearless enough to impress even the wolves. An unlikely friend, but a welcome one, and maybe even useful to boot, The Pilgrims brought with them to the blights civilization in the form of trader colonies, Filthy, lawless places. Everyone has guns, everyone has drugs, and no one is in charge. People live worse than animals, it is repulsive. But fun. A good place for a wolf to practices his spirit magic and boon-up on the hearsay, and for the egotistic learn what’s ‘hot’ on the mainland.
Man eat man seems to be the rule of thumb in those ports. The real inquiry for a skeptic might be where did the pilgrims come from?
It is a shame that the relationship we share with our ‘would be allies’ is one built on lies but it seem that the nobility that our fathers held in such esteem is a thing of the past. If you are smart young wolf, you will tell no one your name, and no one will see your lovely face, you will slip silently from place to place till it is time for you to serve your purpose.
I have given on to you the wisdom passed down from mother to daughter for countless lifetimes and now young one I most wean you from my arms and send you into a dark and frightful place. You will see suffering, you will see death, but with luck and skill on your side you might find love. Your rivals are old and patient, and yet they are cunning, they will take everything from you if you let them, so don’t.
Go now, waist not a moment more, And shadows hide you.
Keywords
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demon
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male/solo
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moon
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city
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landscape
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cityscape
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tatoos
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moons
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hetatsubatchi
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hetatsubachi
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9 years, 7 months ago
24 May 2015 19:17 CEST
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