Grounds Near Urdraza

Grey orbs scanned the open night with a piercing gaze. Despite it being pitch black with only the stars and the reigning moon above illuminating the dark plains, the grey orbs owner had no trouble, for she was no ordinary maiden as she appeared, but a vampire. Her presence was cold, yet undetected, her steps untraceable, and quick. To catch her was like catching smoke: impossible, for when it came to humans, she, as a vampire, was always one jump ahead.

Standing upon a branch of a tree, dressed in robes of midnight black, she grew irritated with each passing moment. The growing moon brought not only illumination to the night, but hunger. It was dinnertime and with the lack of quality prey within her sight, her temper crept to dangerous levels. She hated being hungry. To Isis, it was a true sign of weakness and humiliation. Even when she was a little girl, still living with her mother who was struggling to make ends meet, she was never hungry, so why should she succumb now? Of course, she had encountered many potential prey along her path: weak, defenseless humans who would be annihilated within a blink of an eye, but she had opted to let them pass, for they had all been naught but peasants.

Centuries of being a Vampire had provided Isis with a richer palate, requiring higher maintenance than that perhaps of the average vampire. While younger, more inexperienced vampires would jump at such easy targets, she scoffed at them, seeing them as no more than junk food: cheap, easy, and low in quality. No, she preferred the upper-class humans: the wealthy upper middle class, nobles, even royalty, if she could manage it. It would be equivalent to having fresh caviar instead of fried chicken: richer, tastier, and far more elegant than that of "street food", as she not so fondly nicknamed the peasants that plagued the grounds. Their flesh and blood was far sweeter, and absolutely decadent, for money bought choices, and enabled these fortunate humans far more appetizing meals, and as it often was with meat, it was what the prey ate itself, that the prey tasted like, as fact Isis was very much aware of. None to mention, as the wealthy were better fed, so was their blood higher in quality, and all the while worth the trouble it took for Isis to snare them.

She had just been about to give up on this particular area and head over to a nearby estate in hopes one of the Nobles had gone for a drunken walk when she sensed another's presence near her, and the sweet smell of blood, sweeter than that of the average peasant reached her nose. She closed her eyes reflexively, savoring the sweet, seductive aroma of her next meal. She eyed the unfamiliar form eagerly, studying his form with great detail. He was wealthy, to be sure, all decked out in the finest furs, with rings adorning his fingers. Subconsciously, she licked her crimson lips before beginning her descent and attack.

"Dinner is served...” she breathed out with delight.

A long pointed nose inhaled the crisp night air sharply and deeply, reveling in the exhilaration of the hunt. Certainly Raphael could very well have stayed cooped up in his castle, drinking the blood-based wine stored in the dungeons... for there was certainly a healthy stock of it. But since his transformation into a creature of the night, he enjoyed the thrill of hunting live prey over sipping blood gently from a wineglass. It would’ve been one thing had he a companion to join him in the act or keep him entertained, but he had cleansed Urdraza of all but himself. Perhaps a blessing now that he held the keys to the castle, something he could’ve only dreamed of in his other life... but dually a lonely curse. He could’ve ‘hired’ mortals to maintain the castle yet did not want the ever-so-tempting scent of blood permeating the entirety of his domain, serving only to cause his hunger for blood to become eternally ravenous and insatiable.

No – such sentiments were better left on the battlefield of the Hunt. The chase was far more enjoyable, and victory sweeter, when he was not constantly tempted.

Thus here crouched the vampire, cloaked in the darkness to the point of even evading as much of the moon as possible. Any that approached him would surely notice a coldness about the air... likely just before pointed fangs sunk into the poor victim’s neck. He had only just finished feasting upon a hare, using a length of sleeve to wipe away the blood he could not lick off his lips and chin. It was the second of its kind to fall to him this night, and yet despite that Raphael was hardly sated by the kills. They had both gone down smoothly, yes, but it was not the quality meal centuries of experience and prestige such as his demanded. His palate craved finery and decadence – something just short of or on par with being labeled a delicacy.

A noble sounded appetizing... much more filling than the game within the woods, at any rate.

The lower classes weren’t really worth the time of night, in Raphael’s opinion. Peasant blood had a distinct tang to it, tainted by the low-quality meals consumed and chased down with mug upon mug of buttermilk or cheap ales. As a young vampire, he enjoyed the savory lifeblood and considered them worthy targets. Now, they were little more than shoddily-distilled mead to him. Plus, acquiring them was much too easy: they roamed the streets, roamed the wilds, and were basically everywhere.

If there was one absolute must about a decent hunt, it was that the prey needed to be a challenge to obtain. The nobility generally kept holed up in their mansions or went out upon excursions of luxury, making them far more elusive than the every-day mortal. Substantial sums of money allowed for better and a wider variety of choices in many things, most importantly foods. Prey fed higher-quality fodder tasted better: this was something Raphael could say from experience now that he hadn’t fully known in his former life. If draining the blood of a peasant was like biting into a lemon, then feasting upon a member of the upper realms of society was like dipping a ladle into a vat of honey.

Raphael was just about to leave his castle for more urban ground when a scent and presence upon the air caught his full attention. Immediately he turned toward the source, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed. Whatever he sensed was not a common visitor to Urdraza. The vampire would have assumed it was not but a bear or other large animal if it weren’t for the familiar scent of noble’s blood that reached his nose: sweet, strong, and practically calling as a siren unto him. Just when he thought he’d have to travel for miles to civilization, the prey comes upon him... into his territory, upon their own volition. The vampire closed his eyes to metaphorically bathe himself in the aroma before taking several swift, silent strides toward his goal.

Yes, this one was quite wealthy indeed. Not quite royalty but by the fine furs, many rings, and other small details about the noble Raphael concluded that they could be very close on the social ladder to Royal quality. Quite a treat indeed, and one that must be thoroughly enjoyed upon ensnarement. Only the Gods knew when another opportunity such as this would come around a second time. Dark eyes brightened by bloodlust, Raphael took but a few moments to study the gait of the man. Gently biting his own lip with his fangs the vampire immediately rushed in for the kill, seeming to resemble an overly large bird of prey.

“A meal fit for a king...” he murmured in a blend of bliss and anticipation.

Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Raphael quickened his pace despite having been caught unawares. Whatever it was it was moving as swift as he. What was the better option: cut off the rival now, leaving the prey oblivious and track-able for afterward; or going after the prey, incapacitating it, and then dealing with this adversary? Incapacitation of the nobleman wouldn’t make the height of the moment nearly as enjoyable, yet it would ensure a meal...

Regardless of who or what was also on the prowl, that nobleman was his prey, and Raphael wasn’t about to let anyone or anything stand in his way. Ergo the vampire deliberately closed in on this perceived rival and reached out to give them a shove, attempting to knock them off course.

The scent of her soon-to-be prey danced around her seductively, much like a harem girl dances before a sailor, beckoning him to forget about all else except her as she willed herself to move even faster. He was so close... Isis could practically taste the rich decadence of his sweet, pampered flesh and blood swiveling around her mouth in sweet, heavenly bliss. Closing her grey eyes, she pictured the moment, the epitome of her hunt: Her fangs would come forth, sinking in slowly into her victim's writhing form. He would fight back like the foolish mortal, desperate to get away, but he would be no match for her, for she had never given in to anyone before, and she would rather die an agonizing death upon the deadly flames of sunlight than to waver to him. He would writhe and writhe, and she would laugh until she felt his form go limp beneath her fangs, and he'd be all hers. Liter after liter of sweet, warm blood would nurture her, satisfying her in the only way anything could, and bring temporary life in her long frozen and withered body. She couldn't wait anymore. She had to have him now!

A pale, gothic lace covered hand reached forward, with the intention of caressing her prey coldly, in a mocking fashion. She was always one to play with her food before she ate it. Not to mention that at times, when her adrenaline was simply racing into overdrive at the thrill of a kill, she could swear that it was Rolande before her once again. For a few single, fleeting moments before devouring her prey entirely into nonexistence, she could will herself to believe that it was he, her lover from so many years ago, to give her the sole pleasure she had left in her long, god-forsaken life of pitiful, depressing solitude.

However, just as her hand skirted upon her prey's cloak, another force interfered what would be her moment of glory. With her focus broken away from her prey, her senses picked up another presence: another Vampire, much to Isis' dismay, mere seconds before being flung to the side. In all of her years of solitude, she had never quite gotten along with the other Vampires, particularly female ones who tended to be even more territorial towards her, and it seemed this time was no exception, it seemed, as she went flying hard into a tree. It was every Vampire for themselves.

A hiss escaped her, with her vampiric instincts coming forth full throttle. With her senses, she could determine that he was a male, older, more experienced Vampire. By the current situation, it was safe to say, it seemed, that her new friend was a fan of the old saying "Age Before Beauty". Well, in that case, she would certainly give him a run for his liters. She was there first and had claimed him, and no one stood before Isis and her prey! Especially when it was her only joy in her life.

Quickly recovering, she recovered from the assault, and rose with a vengeance, quickly catching up to the Vampire, brushing twigs from the tree she had fallen unto, and returning his gesture of greeting. "Out of the way, Grandfather. I was here first!" she replied venomously, willing herself to reach her prey faster. Now that her cover had been blown, her prey was more than likely to make a run for it, so time and haste was of the essence.

Sure enough, despite being rather intoxicated and disoriented at the moment, Baron Leonidas Franco had enough sense left in him to notice the commotion occurring feet above him. The adrenaline of is life possibly coming into an end forced the intoxication out of his system, sending him into survival mode. "Great Zeus!" he gasped at the sight of what looked to be two demons flying towards him. Panicked, and bearing no current weapon, he did the only thing he could do, and the first that his survival instincts willed him: he ran, praying for refuge and speed to make it to the towns in time, despite knowing, given his current location, he was more likely to dine in hell instead of his Mansion again.