The Twilight Masquerade [Application][Semi-Canon]

They had traveled deep underground, following the cave passages for three hours, before Katja took the blindfold from Alexander’s eyes. She apologized to the emperor again, but she didn’t bother to explain once more. She had already told him the vampires would not trust him with the location of their hideout. Not yet. Not until they had met him face to face and measured his commitment. She could only imagine how it must seem to him, how he felt. He’d gone from emperor of a powerful nation on Craviter and Eras, and was now blindfolded and lead underground at another’s whim. She knew though, that he would deal with the humiliation for the time being.

On she lead him down dark passages, their way lit only by an electric lamp which did not cast much light. It was only to see their footing. She knew the way by heart, watching for the secret marks that marked the way. Deeper and deeper they traveled, seeing only cave and rock. Eventually their passage began to follow a trickling stream of water, and as time passed it became a river as the passageway grew wider and taller.

They did not tire. They would never tire. She was glad to see the former emperor keeping stride. Even for his advanced age before his turning, he remained spry and athletic. The river roared ahead, telling them of a waterfall, it’s roar echoing throughout the cave. A dim light also grew. She removed his blindfold now, to let him see the rest of the way.

At last they came to the falls, the water cascading over a great underground cliff. But ahead of them a great cavern stretches away into the distance. A great crack ran along the top of the cavern and rays of sunlight stabbed through the dark in glowing beams. The cavern was like a winding valley. The river flowed from the bottom of the falls lazily along the cavern floor. Where the sunlight touched, farms and orchards were planted to take advantage of the sun.

But in the gloom of the cavern, between to great buttresses of rock, lights twinkled out. A city, no a castle, had been constructed long ago against the wall of the cavern. It was a massive place, a city of stone, deep underground. The capital of this subterranean land.

“Zymrokgrota,” Katja informed Alexander. “The City of Twilight.” She then gestured upwards to the crack above. “We are below the Tangledwoods. The Kingdom of Zaplatacbor of old.”
She did not wait for a response, instead moving forward to the edge of the cliff. There was a winding path carved into the cliff face that would lead them down. From there they’d make their way to the city and await the coming festival.

She thought of the festival to come. A ball in honor of the newest vampire. A masquerade ball where all vampires of importance would come to meet Alexander Severyn. Even to the vampires that was a powerful name. This would be his presentation to the nightcourt. And to the Crimson Shroud. She wondered who’d be there.

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OOC Thread for Applications

For hours they had been in these damn caves maneuvering around in the darkness with Alexander himself being blinded by a thick blindfold. Being blinded was not necessarily the issue for him as much as it was the uncertainty with every step he took. He could be walking into a trap for all he knew but he had to place his trust in his guide as she was the one who saved his life and for that he was eternally grateful.


He was flattered however that these mysterious creatures of the night wanted to throw a celebratory party for him. A former emperor reduced down to an old duke who had formerly suffered from brain cancer who now had the strength of ten men and the refined senses of a cat. Despite these extraordinary things he was still an old wrinkled man currently going through the darkness in an underground cave system but he did have an impressive resume which not a lot of people could say.


Despite him not being able to see, his now enlightened and razor-sharp senses allowed him to pick up on the smallest of things and with that new skill he was able to hear a small stream near them which it became quite evident that the stream was becoming louder. Over time the sound got louder and louder and Alexander was quite sure it wasn’t a little quaint stream anymore, but a large river. There his blindfold was finally removed and he was amazed to see a small light at the end of the tunnel with it getting ever closer until they finally made it to the end.


At the end of the cave they were met with it being a cliffside accompanied by the roaring waterfall right beside of them that had evolved from that little stream deeper in the caves. The cavern was grand and large stretching through the underground for as long as the eye could see. Only a sliver of the sun’s light breaking into the underground stronghold through a large crack at the surface of it. Bathing in the sunlight were farms and other small buildings.


In the far wall of the cave however, there stood a large stone fortress carved into it. Underneath of the mighty stone castle stood many houses as if the castle was built there to show their dominance over the inhabitants which it most likely was. Alexander’s guide Katja finally explained what it was, “Zymrokgrota, The City of Twilight.”


“I think my palace looked better…not as dead looking” Alexander said joking walking down the cliffside with Katja to the castle.

The grand hall of Zymrokgrota was alive with music, a band played contemporary jazz, and vampires milled about in masque and dress. No one danced yet, instead catching up and socializing. Servents, human thralls, rushed back and forth among the guests, replacing drinks and bringing hors d'oeuvres. At the end of the room, upon a raised dais were three seats, and a vampire sat in each. On the left a man with golden hair and a golden beard in a crimson mask sat, seeming bored. He lazed back in his chair, eyes half open, and a single drink in his hand. On the right was a woman, tall and slim, with black hair down to her waist. She stared intently, piercingly at the guests from behind a green mask. But at the center sat a child, a young girl with ruddy brown hair and she watched the guests and listened to the music with rapt delight.

Katja strode purposefully into the room, followed by Alexander. "Countess Katja, ze Aszenhal," she was announced, "and she brings forth a supplicant." All eyes turned to her and the man she had brought. They had arrived a few hours ago and in that time prepared for the masquerade. She now wore a black and green dress, with feathers around the neckline, and a green mask. Alexander had also changed, his face now obscured by his own mask. She led him forward through the crowd who parted as they approached, and she brought him before the three seated vampires.

"I bring our newest member of the blood, recently changed, and having passed three full moons." She did not bow. Vampires did not bow. Only a lesser person bowed. She had already instructed Alexander on this. He had been amused. At least, she thought he had. It was hard to tell.

The three vampires stared at him intently, but spoke no words. A few minutes of silence passed and no one dared make a sound. The band had also stopped playing and the thralls had stopped in their tracks. At last the child giggled. "Welcome," she said pleasantly. "Sh then raised her hands and cried "More music! And I want to see dancing!"

As the music began and the floor was cleared, Katja led Alexander out onto the floor. It was custom that the one who had been turned would have the first dance with the one who had turned them. The music rose into a fast paced tune. People clapped at them as they danced and after a few moments of numerous laughter, others joined in. The masquerade had begun.

Alexander proudly walked into the Grand Hall behind of Countess Katja feeling that in times like this it was better to show confidence, especially with this crowd. The old Keizer wore a coal black tunic with a high collar on his neck and a crimson sash over his shoulder from right to left. His upper body had light pieces of metal used as a type of ceremonial armor and large silver lion heads located on his shoulders with himself wearing a silver lion mask with the mane being black feathers. He was surely dressed to impress for all to see.


He followed her before the three judges sitting at the front end of the hall, one being little girl and the others seeming to be those nasty people you try and avoid at your workplace. Alexander indeed had found it intriguing that the vampires did not bow, for him it was nothing more than common certainty for your superiors and as a sign of respect but apparently the vampires saw it as a sign of weakness. Whatever it was Alexander was very happy to oblige as it allowed him to keep his dignity which as a Severyn and indeed a former Keizer was a very proud thing to keep.


The silence itself was an awkward occurrence. He didn’t know if it was supposed to happen. He speaks, she speak, they speak, who speak? Finally out of everyone there the little girl who sat in the middle of them almost towering over everyone in the room despite her size made the cry for dance and celebration which Alexander couldn’t resist.


He gracefully led Katja to the dance floor, taking her hand with a friendly and gentle touch. He assumed position with her and when the music started almost effortlessly he took the lead of the dance waltzing across the floor like he was made for it. He was a feather slowly descending from a height and his maneuvers were made of air. This is the type of dancing that 90 years of Malorian Balls will get you.

The first dance ended and the next began. Katja bowed farewell to the former emperor and took the opportunity to step out of the party. Drinks were now being passed around and the music had passed from formal to more upbeat and contemporary.

She knew many vampires would speak with the emperor, but he could handle himself. And she did not care for any of them.

As she made to escape out onto an empty balcony someone stepped out and blocked her way. The blond hair was enough to tell her who.

“Count Askavos,” she said, feigning disinterest in her voice.

He smiled wickedly beneath his mask, showing his teeth. A sign of aggression among vampires. “Countess Aszenhal, you’re not leaving so soon? This gathering is as much for you as Herr Severyn. You chose to turn another, after the failure of the first one. That is cause for celebration.”

“I learned from my mistake.”

He reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder. She suppressed a desire to break all his fingers. “She’ll be glad to hear that,” he said menacingly.

And then his arm was yanked off her shoulder. He spun and faced the woman who had just joined them. “You were told to stay away from her,” she spoke, an ice cold statement.

Even through the mask Askavos showed enough menace to make Katja take a cautionary step back. “I do not take orders from you, Lady Sivbalta.”

The woman, who had been sitting next to the vampire child, addressed the man who’d sat opposite of her as Katja and Alexander had entered. Her voice was flat, and without inflection. “Sivbalta burned, as will you,” she said. “Matylda commanded, so you’ll obey.” She turned to Katja and looking through her said, “Let the lady leave. She does not care for us.”

Katja didn’t hesitate, she turned and fled the room.

---

Matylda Rokezys found Alexander in the middle of a group of vampires who were questioning him on his plans for the future of his empire. “I want to talk to him,” she said, her childlike voice startling them. They nodded and quickly stepped away.

She led Alexander to her seat at the end of the room. She motioned for Alexander to sit in the chair on the left (the one which had been recently occupied by Count Askavos).

“They’re all trying to see if you’re truly ready to serve the shroud,” she said and then giggled. “Too many questions. I’m sure you have your own, so I will answer them.”

She crossed her legs and took the old emperors hands and in perfect Malorian asked “What would you like to know, Emperor Alexander?”

Alexander was seemingly very intrigued with the small child that seemed to very command the vampires around with nothing more than her childish voice. Who was she? There had to be more to this child than what meets the eye, since after all the girl seems to be able to make the mightiest of Eras listen to here at the size of a midget.


Something about her childishness felt uneasy to him knowing the type of creature she truly was but Alexander did not show any different signs of emotions other than the grand smile on his face. He followed her to the head of the room taking the seat she instructed him to take which he thought was also a very odd choice. Why at the front of the room where one of her lieutenants had been sitting? But he did agree there were quite a lot of questions that had been asked of him so far by his fellow adventurers of the night sky.


The most surprising thing though was her being able to speak in his mother tongue. Not only did she speak in it but she spoke with nearly as much accuracy as he did having spoken it his whole life for 98 years. He did not hesitate though as he continued in the Malorian Tongue.


“You’re…treated with a certain respect I’ve noticed” he took a long pause before continuing almost as if he was pondering how to word his statement. “These people here are certainly far older than me without a doubt even though they may not look like it. Hundreds if not thousands of years old and all of them listen to what you have to say.


So truth be told if I’m going to be a little honest” he said with a large smile and almost laughing a little to himself as he found this humoring him that he was asking a child. “What’s your story? I am a very open book I assume to most of you with mine. A prince who wasn’t likely to take the throne that served in the military of a dictator. I was one of his main officers and had millions of men killed over one of my orders. I eventually overthrew him and became the Emperor. What is it about you though? I’m sure someone of your stature and size in order to gain the power and the castle you hold here has to have been through a great many trials.” He waited for her response eagerly leaving her with a large welcoming smile.

Erik Abildgaard enjoyed the festivities, though he was eager to remove himself from the dancing. He hated dancing. So much.

Still, he moved gracefully and confidently among his peers, his green mask not fully hiding his gaze as he gave a human thrall a hungry look even as he took a glass of whine from their tray. The poor thing was shaking as it left him, but he chuckled. It was the simple things that amused him.

He sipped the wine as he met with some old friends.
“Yes!” he proclaimed, answering a question asked by a newer face as he set the empty glass down.
“Yes a Baron. I was at least” he smirked.
“I think the whole lineage died in the war though. Wouldn’t that be a site! To just reclaim my barony! Do you think they’d let me have my old Alþingi seat back? No matter. The war was good for staying busy. With the rabble having calmed down I’ll have to find new ways to entertain myself.”

He turned his head, seeing Matylda Rokezys speaking with Alexander Sevryn. The Emperor. What a character he was. He was curious to see how he’d adapt to
vampirism. He excused himself from his gathering, snatching another glass of wine effortlessly from a passing tray.

Matylda Rokezys...he stayed out of her way, of course. And had a respect that bordered on fear. One of the few things he feared anymore. Still? What could she want with the former Emperor? He made sure to not make his curiosity known, finding another old friend to strike up a conversation with, even as his curiosity was peaked.

He had possessed a mortal name once, something given to him by a loving mother in the warm embrace of new life. Once when blood had flowed hot through his veins he had borne a mortal title fit for the fleeting existence of a creature that scurried, ate, rutted and shat beneath the tyranny of the sun. Such times were long passed, the weight of the ages had all but erased such memories, his mortal past was little more than a collection of dull images that time had robbed of any meaning.

He sat on a velvet divan, his furs and chainmail giving him an air of the outlandish, he tapped one pale talon upon the top of the couch and held a golden blood goblet in the other, the comforts of the grand hall were not his normal habit, he preferred the dark and wet places of the world to the warmth of civilization. nonetheless, the prospect of seeing the newly embraced Alexander intrigued him sufficiently to put up with such surroundings.

The Grey Chieftain scanned the room with a looked of barely masked disdain, he found such events intolerable, at 400 years old he feasted upon almost every race in Eras and experienced all of life's distractions thousands of times over. Immortality had once seemed like an endless sea of possibility, now however it felt more like a prison sentence.

He sipped from his cup, the blood was harvested from thralls, it lacked the wild and vibrant quality that the chieftain was accustomed to, the intoxicating cocktail of fear, adrenaline, and instinct was missing. While the chieftain had long since forsaken Ziu and Essalan he did maintain something of his clannish origins, he favored the steppe and the wild places, Zymrokgrota was far too sedate a place for his liking. He longed for the midnight hunting on the open plain, it was the only time he still felt alive after centuries of unlife.

He drained the cup with a sigh and held it aloft, a thrall scurried close to refill it, he reached out and with lightning reflexes tore the mewling slave's throat out, the hot steaming blood was far more lively than the cold fare in the shattered carafe. Nearby guests regarded him with a look of disgust, he reveled in it, he felt a sadistic pleasure when he broke the 'unhorsed' vampires rules, he was a creature of the wild, ancient and terrible. He snarled with bloody fangs at a fledgling who was looking at him with bewilderment and grinned wolfishly as she backed away in fear.

Other thralls soon removed the mess and tidied away the body, a human life meant little in vampire society, it was the equivalent of breaking glass, a nuisance but by no means, the worlds end. Sitting once more he regarded the other guests, they were easy to read despite any attempts to the contrary, subtle styles, quirks, and mannerisms all revealed their true age. The Syrixian ancient with his preference for extravagant gold, the Norsian fledgling with his telltale sword, the middle-aged Astragonian with his indigo coat.

The guests were as predictable as all things in his unlife had become, the dull passage of ages had a way of turning even the most vibrant sights and colors into the same grey monotony. Only one being in the whole assemblage struck the ancient chieftains interest, Alexander, the former emperor was newly embraced and by all accounts taking to unlife with vigor, the chieftain pitied him, the joys of eternity passed all too soon.

He stared at a nearby thrall, his eyes wild beneath his iron wolf mask, he could smell the fear seeping from her feeble human form, he pondered whether to break another plaything with a wicked grin.

“Respect?” the little girl mused at Alexander’s statement. “You could call it that. Or fear. Whatever keeps these ego’s in line.” And she laughed, a laugh that sounded of pure innocence and youth, but there was also something dark and deadly beneath it.

“My story,” she continued, “is a very long one. It stretches back to before recorded history. But there was no castle to gain then, no kingdom to rule. You see, I was born before civilization, before humanity built cities. And it wasn’t power I was after when I accepted the dark gift. Nor eternal life. I accepted it because my brother did, and I followed where he led. All of us, the original nine, followed where my brother led.”

She leaned in closer to Alexander, a childish smile on her face, her teeth showing. “Would you like to know a secret?” she asked mischievously. “I am the oldest living…anything…on Eras.” She then leaned back in her chair, still smiling. “I am a hundred times older than the next eldest vampire after me.”

Now the smile faded from her face and she replaced it with a look of deep thought. “All the others, the elders, are gone. Time has not been forgiving on the Nine. My brother died at the hand of Azulnais, and the others died at each other’s hands.” She looked at Alexander and any pretense of the child she once had been was gone. There was no smile, only a depth in her eyes that told of years beyond count and knowledge beyond knowing. “I want to show you something.” She then reached up and took off her mask, showing her face. Her jaw was square and heavy, her brow very prominent. Her hairline was further back, displaying a prominent forehead.

She left her mask off long enough for Alexander to see, then she replaced it, once again covering her face. “I wanted you to see what I look like. This is what human kind looked like when I was born. Because I am ancient. That is why they respect me, as you say. Is that answer enough?”