posted on Aug, 21 2009 @ 01:44 PM
Name: Magnus GallowsRaven
Age: 2300
The Blood Line of Lilith
Being old has it's charms, or so Magnus use to think. Twenty three hundred years is a long time to watch the world decay and then rebuild itself, it
seems humanity will never learn.
Born in 230 BC, Magnus has very little memory of himself before his "rebirth" as a Vampire. he remembers nothing of his family or even his real
name. It changed as the centuries went on. As far as becoming a vampire, he knows he was not given the choice. The affliction was simply thrown unto
him for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Initially, Magnus had though himself cursed. The nightmares were not something that helped either. What initially was though of as just bad dreams
became visions of things he did not understand, some he did not care to. Not having any of his kind for answers, he wandered aimlessly through the
world attempting to find an answer, or others like him who could provide that answer.
In his travels, Magnus killed unmercifully. A meal was a meal, and who ever was present when an urge for blood came, Magnus knew no sympathy. He kept
one piece of his humanity however. He would never turn another. Even the though of giving somebody this wretched curse made his blood boil and his
fangs ache.
He learned everything he could. If immortal, why not be an educated immortal? This was something he had remembered from his childhood. He had never
had the chance as a human to pursue his interests of history and philosophy among many others. Cultures, languages and stories, he learnt as much as
he could.
Even that grew lonesome after a few hundred years however, and eventually the need to find some of his own overwhelmed him. His answer came on a trip
to what is today known as Africa. In those days it was called "The Dark Continent".
The year was 560 AD and Magnus had been desperately searching for his own kind. He had spoken to many historians and shamans about the various legends
surrounding beast who drank others blood and dwelled in darkness. One such historian had led him to Africa, where centuries ago, there had been a dark
plague that ravished the land. Legend had it that the people there had turned into blood craving monsters who could not step out into sunlight.
With the information in hand, Magnus began his travels from Europe to Africa in haste. Travel has difficult since he could not travel during the day,
but he eventually came to the place he sought. It was the Nigerian village of Nok. Their history was shrouded in mystery, but they lived peaceful
lives. One of the first cultures on the continent to use master iron works, they were a bountiful people.
Magnus sought out the local shaman who informed him that there lay an abandoned city to the west which was inhabited by creatures of the night. They
were of ancient origin and rarely disturbed the people of Nok as a treaty had been agreed upon long ago. Magnus' hopes rose with every word.
Having been a Vampire for many centuries now, Magnus had developed heightened senses, clearer vision, speed and strength beyond any man he had ever
faced. However when leaving the village Magnus could not shake the feeling that he was being watched. Not only that, the person or thing watching him
was far older and far more powerful than he was.
The journey to the ruined city was a long one. Having to hide in abandoned buildings and caves during the day, and traveling within the brisk night.
This was something that he found particularly troubling about his condition. Voyages that would have taken mere days as a human took weeks as a
Vampire. Being so shut out from society was another reason for him to find others.
As he approached the ruined city, Magnus began to feel a sense of familiarity. The markings on the wall, although ancient, spoke to him as he had
known this place in the distant past. Even the architecture seemed to jump out of the visions and nightmares that came daily as he rested.
The cascading moonlight onto the ruins gave the place a sense of death and decay, yet to Magnus it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever
seen. As he approached what look liked the remnants of a central Dias or sacrificial chamber a figure jumped at him from the shadows.
Had his reflexes not been as developed, Magnus would have been decapitated by the very apparent sharp claws of this beast. It cut through the Dias as
a machete would through soft wood. After the initial shock, his primal instincts took over and he reverted once more to his Vampiric form. The claws
became extended, his fangs protruded from his mouth. The smell of blood was in the air.
Something strange happened as he glared at the best in front of him. The beast knelt and bowed to him. Bewildered, Magnus spun around only to find
others doing the same.
What are you? Magnus screamed aloud, his voice booming. The creatures immediately began to shift. Magnus could not believe how
beautiful they were in their human forms. Never would he have thought of them as monsters.
One of them stepped forward. Judging by his size and age, Magnus assumed he was their leader.
I am Lazarus. We are underlings of the Vampire Clans. Unlike you, we do not have the privilege of living with our brethren. We were
outcast long ago for sins committed against our kind.
Intrigued Magus thought of another question.
Why do you bow to me? I am nobody of importance. I am but a demon of the night, who has walked and terrorized humanity for
centuries.
The creatures, now in human form, seemed confused by this statement.
You are a pure blood my lord. You are of the originating bloodlines.
How do you know this? Magnus snapped back. This is the information he'd been waiting for all these years.
It is apparent. He answered.
You smell of pure blood. Your eyes glow blue which is a mark of ancient royalty.We do not have all the answers for we are not pure
bloods. We were mistakes made in times past. Our hunger for blood goes beyond anything you have ever experienced.
Our instincts are primal, we cannot dwell in large populations for people become aware and hunt us. The people here have been good
enough to keep away and we only prey on the ones who stray too far.
Feeling badly for a creature worse off than him was not something he intended on doing. If he was royalty and something "special" he would need to
find out why.
Where can I find those who are like me? I need to know more.
Lazarus retreated behind a makeshift dwelling and returned with a book in hand.
This is the recordings of our collective knowledge, everything we know about our kind and yours. There is also an address scribed
within, we do not know where it is. A cold and damp place according to some.
As he reached for the book, Lazarus pulled back suddenly, a evil grin showed up on his face.
Ah, but you cannot take without giving pure blood. What do you offer me in return?
This game was getting very tiresome, and a meal was well warranted by now. Counting the one in front of him, Magnus could sense ten more lurking in
the shadows. With a sigh he replied casually.
I will allow you to live, creature. I am not here to play games and will drain you of whatever real life you have left.
As he spoke those words, Lazarus attempted to use his speed to knock his opponent over. Unfortunately, Magnus being older, was quicker on the draw and
slit his throat with one swing. As the book tumbled in the air Magnus turned to the rest.
Take your revenge I dare you. It has been ages since a good fight and you all would make excellent practice. If not, I suggest you
retreat to your ruins as I take my leave.
The creatures retreated and as they did. Magnus raised a hand and caught the book. It was time to learn the truth, and find those who could truly
explain it. In the pages of the book he found the history of his bloodline.
From what was there he came to the conclusion that he had been bitten by one of the first Vampires. It seems there was only one at that time, her name
being Lilith, and she created all the others who came afterwards.
However through centuries the lines had been blurred as some turned those who were not worthy. According to the writings however, Magnus should have
been a half blood and not pure. This intrigued him more.
At the end of the book was an address, just as Lazarus has stated. It was a London address, cold and damn summed up that part of Europe quite well and
again Magnus travelled alone, through the nights.
Centuries later, Magnus had established himself within the Vampire clans as a respected and feared Supreme Leader. Having gained the trust of the few
older Vampires and having been treated as royalty from the minute he was presented, things had been very easy.
He still did not know who is maker was, the Clans claimed not to have that knowledge, or the reason for which he had been turned into a Pure Blood. At
2300 years, it mattered no more.
He was content with ruling over his fellow brethren and had finally found his niche. Wars with the werewolves, Lycans as he called them from ages
past, were at an end, and a time of peace had come across the lands. Sufficient treaties had been written and signed with humans to make sure
hunter's only hunted those who we mutually agreed were a problem.
As he stood in the rain, pondering his immortal future, a feeling of deep disturbance took place, one he's been unable to shake off since.
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[edit on 8/21/2009 by tothetenthpower]