The caves are where it all started. They allowed the first wandering wolves access to the land of Blossom Forest, and afterward housed the monster that had threatened the earliest of inhabitants. The heroes had slain it, yes, but in doing so had also closed off one of the pathways in the caverns, magic blocking one of the many exits to Blossom Forest. But over the years, the original spell has weakened and now the way is clear. What will not only crawl out of the caverns, but erupt from it? The caves now thrum with the ever growing magic wellspring as it spreads out into the land. It is from here that the first vampire of Blossom Forest was corrupted, and it is here that any subsequent vampire will be born. To traverse its paths is dangerous - there is an almost impenetrable darkness, and in that abyss lays many secrets - hidden holes one could fall through, weakened floors, and then of course there is the labyrinthe itself. No one knows what the deeper levels hold - no one has traveled them and survived to tell tales. Not even those who call this place home dares to test their luck by going in deep, deep, deeper. The magic exuding from this place has rearranged the lands - moving packs, changing the terrain. Here the cave looks the same but it is not - it is more dangerous than ever. In addition, outside the mouth of the cave the sacred stones that once stood erect in another place now stand guard. They are colored the most beautiful arrangement of jewel tones, and almost appear to be made of gems themselves, no longer the dull grey they once were. It is within them that all official fights must take place - at the Blican Orlege. Welcome to Drylic Cofa...


Wolf in Sheep's Skin

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I'm Your Worst Nightmare Dressed as your Day Dream
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Glowing rubies stared out into the darkness, blinking brilliantly as they tracked the brute who had trespassed into the caves. The hessian had been none too quiet on his entrance, his swears and mumblings to himself alerting Draven to him in the first place. The vampire's nares had flared and the sweet succulent cologne of lupus canis had swirled willingly into his vomeronasal organ. A soft, rumbling purr erupted from the brute's chest even as his shades moved to half mast over his orbs as they rolled back in ecstasy. How much he had learned in the past few days about himself. He had captured his first Mesmer simply by focusing on the lass and commanding her to be his. Of course, he had not commanded her long - she had desired to be turned into a vampire, and Draven had been all too willing to comply. The past few days Draven had captured a few stray wolves and although Lucaya had had no difficulty turning - other than the excruciating pain that is - the same results were not always possible. A few of the wolves died at the end of the pain, their hearts never restarting to the slow but steady beat that Draven's own heart thumped at. Others had no reaction - and those of course had quickly become his dinner. That was the other thing he had learned - his hunger was almost insatiable. The blood of another varg would quench him, but it would return time and time again. Now, he was not able to feed on anything easy like a rabbit - the distinction seemed to be that he required the blood of a carnivore. Vargs were not the only things on his menu, but they were the most fruitful. Then of course there was his sexual hunger - a fire within his loins that drove him to new heights of pleasure. His desire for such things was tenfold what it had ever been, and he found that his stamina was increased now. Then there was his inability to be in the sunlight - it cooked his brain and nearly killed him the one nad only time that he had attempted it. What other secrets lay in his new evolved self? Draven could not wait to find out.

This brute seemed the best next victim for his scientific testing. And so thetitan had followed him silently in the darkness, a task made all the easier by his new darkvision that allowed him to see in the dark as well as he had ever seen in the light. But the interesting part? It was that this stranger could not catch onto Draven's scent. Was it his undead self that kept him from creating a scent of his own? Or perhaps he had merely lived in this labyrinthe so long that he had adopted its perfume as his own? Whichever it was, Draven did not care. He was merely glad to be able to study the varg, stalk him. The brute was small and delicate for a hessian, and moved in a flighty manner, as if he was used to being on the run. A criminal perhaps? An outlaw? Draven did not really care. Well, that was not entirely true - he so dearly loved hearing the stories of his prey, for it made their devastation and destruction all the more enjoyable. But he did not care where they came from or whether they were good or bad. Good, bad, old young, male female - Draven would eat them all, taste them all, fuck them all. His hunger was unquestioning, and each morsel was delectable.

Draven slid through a crack in the cavern's wall and picked up an easy lope in order to get ahead of the hessian in the cavern's pathway. Each step, each stride was sure and solid, without any of the indecision that he once had when the night held the danger of blindness. Over obstacles and through tight crevices he leapt until finally he was climbing higher, higher, a staircase made of precarious ledges leading him to another pathway, this one above the one the stranger tried upon. Patiently, leisurely, Draven waited. He lowered his bodice to the rocky floor, his muscles bunched beneath him while his tail flickered in anticipation. From here on this elevated throne he would announce himself to the stranger - the low ceiling would throw his vocals around and keep the stranger from pinpointing his location. And only once he had thoroughly terrified his prey would he launch his aerial attack, claws extended, jaw parted. He would bite his victim and then leap away, giving the poison time to take effect - it would incapacitate the male whether it killed him, turned him, or did nothing. The pain would cripple him and allow Draven ample time to enjoy both the varg's suffering and his blood.

whenever the varg made it into the antechamber than Draven hovered above, the hessian woul open his maw and speak, a deep baritone timber calling out. "You dare intrude into my home without invitation, dare to call this a place of solitude for you, sanctity. You will find none of that here, but now that you have arrived, you can not leave. This is my home, these are my caves. Once you have entered, you have signed your body, tissue, blood and soul over to me and you are now mine. But as long as you can entertain me, I shall allow you to live. Once you fail to do so... however..." He allowed his words to trail off into a silence, but even a few moments after he had finished talking, the echoes of his words still rumbling around the room. If Thackary spoke, Draven would remain still, listening and enjoying the tale. But as soon as the brute fell silent - or if he did not play along with the game - Draven would jump down from his hidden ledge, fangs extended due to his hunger and he would aim to lay a bite upon the brute's flesh.

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Ω Draven Ω Untamed Vampire Ω Escaped Convict Ω Azura Ω


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