09-02-2004, 09:05
High atop Mt. Hypurgoth, the storm clouds gathered and blackened the once-azure sky. Here in this tainted land, all was night and storm, all was hatred and neglect. In the all-consuming shadow of Teean-Ay Manor, light was a stranger--save, of course, for the billowing thunder overhead.
A grey mist flowed in from the west in the opposite direction of the wind. The mist shrouded the small and sleepy towns that lurked within the monstrous manor's shadow, tarried over them only for a moment, then moved on, leaving only the sound of screams and tears in its wake. It fed; it moved on; it demonstrated the utmost in efficiency: sickening as it sank its fangs deep, drew forth the blood, licked its foggy chops clean.
At last, the mist reached the blackened wood of Teean-Ay Manor, scaling its tall outer walls with remarkable ease. At last, the mist reached the upper floor of the manner and a single open window, expectantly blowing the curtains back at the mist as the creature slithered inside, the curtains falling straight behind. The mist filled the gigantic hall of the manor, every tiny crevice covered in its dulling grey hold. The bold red carpet faded to a hideous shade of marroon; the elaborate steel suits of armor lining either side of the room became invisible soldiers; the flickering candles of the gigantic chandelier disappeared and thrust the room into darkness.
A cackle arose from the mist as it began to condense in the room's center. The formless began to take form, the vile grey vapor shaping into well-defined curves. They became hair, a head, a neck, shoulders, arms, breasts, stomach, legs, feet, toes... and at last, in a flash of red light, the figure emerged.
http://havak.db-forge.com/portraits/bitmaps/unF22L.bmp
She stood rough thirty feet high, the top of her hair just barely beneath the chandelier. Her lips were bright crimson--blood crimson--and formed an amused smile. The broadsword at her side was sheathed, the sheath attached to the left side of her green-and-mauve leather corset, the corset suddenly shifting as she struggled to adjust her breasts.
"Accursed thing," she muttered. "I swear to the Bloody One, the bastard who made this doesn't know a damn thing about comfort." With one final tug, she found her position, then sighed slowly as she began to shrink. As she reached an even six feet, she began a quick walk to the side of the room from which she had entered.
"Another day, another meal, another few dozen villages converted over to my rule, by will or by force of fang." She grinned, and the lightning from the approaching storm glistened against her monstrous fangs. "I think I'd like a snack."
The side door of the room flew open at the beckon of a blast of wind from her palms, and the candles within revealed the hall's dining room. Tapestries lined the walls, telling the story of the previous queens of the Teean-Ay Territories, their subjects ever more subservient, their will ever more powerful, their figures ever more appealing to the angsty 15-23-year-old demographic by which the great Busty Vampire Queens of Teean-Ay had cemented their claim. For Queen Bludlust of the House of Bytemare, the claim was all the more impressive: 5 million fools converted to her cause, at least several of which were vampiric.
And in the room's center, the long wooden table rested, having housed so many guests. Yet something was off. Something was dreadfully, painfully off.
All across the table was strewn the blood of the innocent. Plates and glasses bore splotches of it, which spilled onto the table. It had been dragged, scraped, and splattered all throughout the room--whatever was within it put up a fight before someone, something had struck it down, thrust its vicious blade into its arms, its neck, its heart... somewhere.
Whatever it was had died. And died brutally.
Queen Bludlust looked wide-eyed at the scene, then huffed. She rared back her head and screamed, her voice echoing throughout the kingdom.
"WORMWOOD! I thought I told you to get your ass in here and do the dishes!"
A grey mist flowed in from the west in the opposite direction of the wind. The mist shrouded the small and sleepy towns that lurked within the monstrous manor's shadow, tarried over them only for a moment, then moved on, leaving only the sound of screams and tears in its wake. It fed; it moved on; it demonstrated the utmost in efficiency: sickening as it sank its fangs deep, drew forth the blood, licked its foggy chops clean.
At last, the mist reached the blackened wood of Teean-Ay Manor, scaling its tall outer walls with remarkable ease. At last, the mist reached the upper floor of the manner and a single open window, expectantly blowing the curtains back at the mist as the creature slithered inside, the curtains falling straight behind. The mist filled the gigantic hall of the manor, every tiny crevice covered in its dulling grey hold. The bold red carpet faded to a hideous shade of marroon; the elaborate steel suits of armor lining either side of the room became invisible soldiers; the flickering candles of the gigantic chandelier disappeared and thrust the room into darkness.
A cackle arose from the mist as it began to condense in the room's center. The formless began to take form, the vile grey vapor shaping into well-defined curves. They became hair, a head, a neck, shoulders, arms, breasts, stomach, legs, feet, toes... and at last, in a flash of red light, the figure emerged.
http://havak.db-forge.com/portraits/bitmaps/unF22L.bmp
She stood rough thirty feet high, the top of her hair just barely beneath the chandelier. Her lips were bright crimson--blood crimson--and formed an amused smile. The broadsword at her side was sheathed, the sheath attached to the left side of her green-and-mauve leather corset, the corset suddenly shifting as she struggled to adjust her breasts.
"Accursed thing," she muttered. "I swear to the Bloody One, the bastard who made this doesn't know a damn thing about comfort." With one final tug, she found her position, then sighed slowly as she began to shrink. As she reached an even six feet, she began a quick walk to the side of the room from which she had entered.
"Another day, another meal, another few dozen villages converted over to my rule, by will or by force of fang." She grinned, and the lightning from the approaching storm glistened against her monstrous fangs. "I think I'd like a snack."
The side door of the room flew open at the beckon of a blast of wind from her palms, and the candles within revealed the hall's dining room. Tapestries lined the walls, telling the story of the previous queens of the Teean-Ay Territories, their subjects ever more subservient, their will ever more powerful, their figures ever more appealing to the angsty 15-23-year-old demographic by which the great Busty Vampire Queens of Teean-Ay had cemented their claim. For Queen Bludlust of the House of Bytemare, the claim was all the more impressive: 5 million fools converted to her cause, at least several of which were vampiric.
And in the room's center, the long wooden table rested, having housed so many guests. Yet something was off. Something was dreadfully, painfully off.
All across the table was strewn the blood of the innocent. Plates and glasses bore splotches of it, which spilled onto the table. It had been dragged, scraped, and splattered all throughout the room--whatever was within it put up a fight before someone, something had struck it down, thrust its vicious blade into its arms, its neck, its heart... somewhere.
Whatever it was had died. And died brutally.
Queen Bludlust looked wide-eyed at the scene, then huffed. She rared back her head and screamed, her voice echoing throughout the kingdom.
"WORMWOOD! I thought I told you to get your ass in here and do the dishes!"