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bloodvbonerpg · 6 years

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Torn Asunder

A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings And crawled head downward down a blackened wall And upside down in air were towers Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells. - T.S. Eliot

All are witness to the storm. Some from the safety of their homes, but many come to stand and bask in it in person.

It doesn’t arrive in small drops that slowly accumulate. No one person feels it before another. It arrives in a sheet that appears like a fog over the horizon; an ominous being that seeks to plunder, pillage, and take from all who have gathered. From the West it comes as dark clouds and the wall of water. Fear gathers in their eyes and in their hearts and despite it all the storm does not abate. It has come to devour, and it will take what it is owed.

The farmers brace themselves first, wondering why they ever hoped for a rain. Some wonder if this was their fault, braced in their homes with others, watching the windows shake and walls creak. The first flash of lightning illuminates the almost pitch evening.

A child wails, and thunder shakes the heavens.

What was once a thriving community of walkways are now ditches made to clear the water out of town. The Town Hall is boarded up with scrap metal and wood. The wind breaks apart wooden platforms and while some get carried away, others are lodged in the mud, sinking further into the ground.

Those who wished to witness nature’s beautiful creation now flee for their homes--for their lives. There is no sun, there is no sky. There are only clouds and bursts of lightning, followed by the calls of above for penance and the shaking of the earth.

The storm has begun, and the time has come.

Keeper Heshept’s Home - Sunset

The Keeper paces back and forth, her figure illuminated by five dim, flickering candles.

Thunder makes the house shake, and she grits her teeth.

Each candle, quickly plastered together with borrowed wax, bears the smear of blood and is bound by twine and nightshade. The shadows cast along the wall twist and morph into vile, wicked things. Things Ducal Heshept dare not look upon.

“Are you nearly finished?” she hisses, and turns to a gaunt figure; a young man who hasn’t seen the light of day or the stars of night since his Tribe arrived in the walls of Sanctuary a month ago. Dark circles ring his eyes and he lets out a shaking breath, his hands stretched out before him. They tremble, dirt-crusted nails haloed by the firelight.

With a whispered word Ducal cannot hear over the raging winds outside, the flames extinguish and plunge the pair into darkness. Ducal wrings her hands together, dry knuckles cracking under immense pressure. Despite the chill of the oncoming storm sweat lines her brow and the wrinkles on her face. Her tongue as dry as the dirt beneath her feet. But that will not last long.

The first rain was a herald of evil--a sign of what was to come.

As her withered eyes adjust to the night, a voice rasps to her from the darkness.

“It is done.”

Outskirts of the Vampire District - Night

Together, Anton Dashep and a team of five men begin pushing on a fallen platform, trying to use the mud to slicken their way. Rain pours into the hole of a Vampire’s ruined home, the creature yelling in frustration and trying desperately to grab spare pieces of wood to rapidly repair the hole before daylight will come again

Anton uses all of his might to push again, a chill running down his spine as another flash of lightning illuminates the night. But when he pushes, he finds himself the only one doing the labour.

Rain and sweat plastering his hair to his brow, Anton stands in the mud and looks up at the men with a glare.

But their attentions are turned down the alley, where a man stands, face covered by a soaked black scarf. He nods to them once, and disappears around a row of buildings.

Anton watches in confusion as the men take black cloths and tie them around their faces. They turn back to him, pulling hammers and knives from their pockets.

“We aren’t here for you, Anton, but we will fight you if you stand in our way,” says one.

“Sanctuary will never work. Heshept is right.”

A sickening miasma fills the air. Secrets previously kept, now released.

“Keeper Heshept,” explains another, “she’s right about the Upyr. They’re monsters. It’s only a matter of time before they devour us all. We need to stop them first. We need to kill the Bone King.”

They turn and begin to head, en masse, towards the Town Square. The men are resolute in their newfound ideas, ideas put in their heads by Ducal Heshept.

They disappear into the rain.

The platform is abandoned. Anton and the Vampire are abandoned. The storm is abandoned.

All around Sanctuary they gather. Men and women, Vampires and Humans, all marked by the same black cloth across their mouths. They are not for glory or for shame. They are not marked by who they are or what species they are, but rather what they have chosen to do on this the first night of the storm that will bring the world to its knees.

It is here that Ducal Heshept has decided to change the world in a state of revenge. By erasing one man, she will change the tide of the storm and, with it, the future of the world. For no Court can survive without its King.

Among the Humans walks Neyon Bek, his hands trembling in the cold, but his gaze resolute as he watches the dark tower of the Museum illuminate in front of a flash of lighting. Steel grips in his heart. He isn’t ready, but he will go forth.

Among the Vampires walks Zion Kellen-Child, silent as a shadow, hair dripping water into her face, a hunger deep-set into her eyes. Now is the time for the shedding of blood; not for the sake of hunger but for the sake of the slaughter itself, and every bone in her body sings for it.

Beside her, Ragar Wolfgang-Child steps forth. Behind him rise his seven Children, ready to follow their Maker into a new world; a world free of Upyr and the Hollow Throne.

They intend to kill the beast by cutting of its head. First, they will kill the Bone King; Gabriel Albescu. From there, his most trusted will fall. When all the Upyr of Sanctuary have been wiped out, those who stand with Heshept and hers will march towards the Bone Court and take care of the rest. Without their King they will be scattered, meaningless, nothing. Their numbers will mean little, and the sacrifices made in the name of the fight will mean everything.

A young woman, Ragar-Child, steps forward, whispering into her Maker’s ear.

“Why here,” asks she, “why now?”

Ragar, eyes focused on Town Hall, lifts his chin proudly. “The world does not wait for permission to be torn asunder, child. It simply will be.”

“So she knew of the Bone King, she planned this.”

“I don’t care if she did or didn’t. This will give us everything we’ve ever needed.”

The girl purses her lips.

“And… Our King?”

A grin slithers onto Ragar’s lips. “My father will have everything he has ever desired.”

Town Hall - Night

Ducal will not be denied entry to the Tribunal again.

“We demand you open your doors and give me the body of my fallen and his murderer,” she cries out, voice roaring over the crack of thunder, the blade in her hand rusted, but deadly.

“Give us the Upyr!”

Ducal raises her blade and her words are met by the cheers of her Tribe.

The doors do not budge.

“Give us the Upyr!”

Beside her, the sullen Wicked walks, weak feet trudging up the steps. He slips on the rain-slicked stone and begins to plummet, but an invisible force stops him in the middle of the air and rights him without a whisper on the howling wind.

Ducal snarls and her grip tightens on her blade.

“You would dare protect these murderers?! They have tortured, kidnapped, and assaulted my people for generations! They killed Greagoir right in front of all of us! And yet you would hide them in safety?! No more!”

Behind her the cheers turn into angry yells from the Humans of Tribe Heshept.

Ragar and Zion exchange looks, but remain silent.

Ducal screams into the thunder and lightning.

“No more!”

She steps back.

With a raise of his gaunt hand, the Wicked blasts the door to splinters that fly as easily as leaves on the wind. All around the assembled mob duck and turn away to avoid collision, but in their hearts burns a righteous fury that has brought them over the edge of running away.

Together the Wicked and Ducal step into the Hall, Ducal using the man as a shield. Taken aback by shock, those inside are unprepared by the presence of the hidden Wicked and his abilities, heightened by the power of a spell and blood.

Sunken-in eyes flicker around the barely-lit room, and with a flick of his wrist, the Wicked waves his hand over Siobhan Thamos-Child, Wolfgang Arcturus-Child, and Ayanna Cadeyrn. The three flinch and cry out in pain, before slumping to the ground in an unconscious state.

Ducal, however, has her eyes trained on Milena Ivanov, standing before the corpse of Greagoir.

Despite Ducal’s wicked advantage, the power of the spell does not last long, and the Wicked collapses to the ground. And without him, Ducal is powerless against Milena’s age and experience. The Duchess of Ash flees for her life, leaping across the rooftop of Town Hall and away from the mob with one thought in mind.

She must get to the King, before all is lost.

Long River - Night

Gabriel Albescu hears them approach before he sees them, much like the storm itself.

The River has already begun to flood and yet the Bone King stands at the bank, watching the tide rise and fall with a strange look of wonder upon his weathered face. Despite the darkness, he does not fear them, and knows by the smell of them that they are the ones who should be afraid, and rightfully so.

One of the members of Tribe Heshept lunges, a wet cry in his throat.

“For Greagoir!”

He wields a rusted knife that Gabriel easily evades, moving to the side. With an easy push the man plunges into the River and is lost in the churning water.

The other is less brash and takes his time, lunging but stepping back repeatedly. The Bone King tires of his games quickly and attacks.

A flash of lightning blinds his vision, and Gabriel missteps. The Human takes his chance, and slices his knife along the King’s gut.

Blood sprays across the foam. Gabriel’s eyes go wide. In an instant the Human’s head topples to the ground, rolling several feet away from his body. Gabriel vanishes, splatters of blood marking his path towards the Museum.

Welcome to Blood V. Bone’s Fourth Event and Season One Finale: Torn Asunder. This event will be taking place from May 30 to June 15th.

Terror and anarchy have turned Sanctuary upside-down.

Despite everything the Upyr have done in the past, they are a vital key to maintaining the order of Sanctuary and the Tribunal, and no one is without guilt at any point in their lives.

And it isn’t just members of Tribe Heshept who are after the Upyr. Citizens on both sides, such as Neyon Bek, Ragar Wolfgang-Child, and Zion Kellen-Child have sided with Ducal on the matter and have broken Sanctuary’s Rules, deciding to attack the Upyr in trying to overthrow the Bone King.

It’s no longer a matter of species against species, but a matter of bringing everyone together. Has the past year proven that the future of the world is more important than any former bad blood can be put aside for the good of all? Can those left that are loyal to Sanctuary put a stop to Ducal and the traitor’s plans?

With the storm flooding the town and the citizens flooding the streets, no one is safe from the chaos that Ducal has decided to bring down upon Sanctuary’s head. And the storm will prove to bring upon greater changes than simply those in loyalty. When the clouds finally part, Sanctuary will not be the same.

But why is she doing this? Why now? What will happen to Gabriel? Will the Upyr survive?

#c; ayanna cadeyrn #c; wolfgang arcturuschild #c; gabriel albescu #c; milena ivanov #c; anton dashep #c; zion kellenchild #c; ragar wolfgangchild #c; neyon bek #c; ducal heshept #c; greagoir (tribe heshept)#bvbplots #plot: torn asunder #bvbplot: s1

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