Thread: The Havens

Small update Time continued to roll ever onward as late evening gave way to early morning. The waning moon however, threw no light upon the stranger. Despite the fact that his colossus shadow enveloped the area. His silhouette was unmoving as he regarded his target like a terrible sentinel The Manor. The early hour usually passed without remark. Too early for most humans to be about too late for immortals to roam without direction. This was no ordinary mortal however, which was evident in his confident yet unnoticed entry to the haven. His massive form filled the empty halls, his tread light despite his hefty weight. The dark coat he wore encouraged shadows to embrace him, his face obscured not only by the high collar but by the dark cloth stretched over the bridge of his nose. Piercing blue eyes glittered with the righteous ambition of murder. The long silver-grey locks remained unbound past his shoulders. The straight tresses were the color of a senior mortal however, had the thickness of a young man. It was bountiful, falling below where one would suspect his shoulder blades to be the only identifying feature about him besides his chilling gaze. He loomed for a moment in the decorated halls, eyes sweeping over the dusty artifacts. The flicker of candlelight highlighted the high portion of his cheekbones and brow as he unclasped his overcoat. The glittery of weaponry refracted unto the floor in the half light. Implements of murder and torture hung from his body, bound by leather straps. Stakes, knives, crossbows, rows of bolts and a very large sword clung to him. The sword resembled the symbolic cross, sharpened to perfection by a fine craftsmen. Long tapered fingers grasped a heavy stake, pulling it idly from a long row of similarly crafted items. Closing his heavy coat once more he peered towards the halls, empty of any occupants. His large calloused hand coiling around the spike as he casually sauntered forward, hiding his deadly intent within deep pockets. The large male strode like a ghost to a door reaching for the brass knob. He faltered as his fingers brushed the metal, his head tilting. Far away, echoing through the halls of the empty and desolate manor there was a small clatter. A whisper of evidence hairpins crashing to the marble floor. Lurching the man twisted like some monstrous, silent predator. He loped down the corridor, slowing his gate to slip into shadow as he came upon a library. The heavy door proved to be straining, not because of its mass, but because it was almost impossible to slip within without a sound. However, the hunter was experienced, gliding into the brightly lit room without advantage of shadow. Lurking behind rows of books he scanned, glacial eyes falling upon the small immortal. This immortal had encountered him once before. The small child-woman was crouched on the floor, hair unbound as she reached for a book that had slid under the couch she had been lounging upon. Her fingers brushed the worn cover before she grasped it with a triumphant smile, her lips puckering in her pleasure. Rocking back onto her heels the girl was delayed in her response, crimson eyes peering towards the entrance of the library. Neferys frowned, her smile disappearing as she scanned the many rows of books. With a soft shrug she turned only to find her gaze level with a dark material. The smell of bronze and blood caused her to recoil. Her head lulled back against her small shoulders, her gaze sweeping upward with barely restrained fear. Upon recognizing the intruder she relaxed, relief washing over her, Hello. Her smile returned, brightening her features as the light played off her ruby eyes. She licked her lips in the silence as she rose from her kneeling position. Her gaze lingered over his form, each regarding the other with mutual silence. She peered at his sleeve, her fingers curling into her palm as she fought the instinct to reach for him. How is your arm? The man remained silent, allowing her inquiry to settle neatly upon the foundation of muteness. Finally he chuckled, the rich male sound muffled by the layers of cloth that hide most of his features. Drawing back the woolen sleeve of his coat he revealed his right forearm. The strangers forearm was heavily muscled, tanned and rough but adorned with a rather large wound. Tooth marks were gauged within his skin, the incisions a staggering 7 inches apart. A mass of white scar tissue puckered his skin, leaving unsightly pockmarks and fissures across his skin. Verevolf He speaks suddenly, the deep tone rumbling with his German accent, caught me in the open during the peak of the moon. It vas six hundred pounds He paused, azure eyes scanning the fledglings expression, I hate verevolves As the young immortal frowned he chuckled her concern was unwarranted.