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Thousand Year Old Vampire: Guillaume d'Orléans
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<blockquote data-quote="Whizbang Dustyboots" data-source="post: 8848293" data-attributes="member: 11760"><p><strong>Florence, 1446</strong></p><p></p><p>It was Il Chiarissimo's little joke, or perhaps his warped sense of honor, that he had taken my fortune from me and my bankers, but left me my possessions, although surely he had wondered at them.</p><p></p><p>In any case, I was turned out into Florence, alone, penniless, with no friends or acquaintances here. </p><p></p><p>After confirming that no one had ever heard of the merchant empire that I can left behind a century ago up north, I compelled a merchant house sending goods north to take messages to Julian and others I knew in Cologne. I did not ever expect to hear back from them.</p><p></p><p>So I wandered Florence, which truly was the greatest city I had ever set eyes on. In addition to banking, it was a great center of the textile industry, and all night and day, ships were coming in and going out, laden with traffic. Construction seemed to be underway on every corner, and not the grim gray buildings of Cologne, but red brick and tan stone and nearly every space imaginable was decorate with art works, including bronze bas-relief panels affixed to doors and statues in any intersection wider needed for two wagons to pass.</p><p></p><p>But I could not focus on the wonders of the city. I was ravenous with hunger and it was almost all I could think about. But this was a city of churches, and, as I discovered as I reeled away from them in pain, some time in the last century, even approaching the threshold of a church or chapel made me feel like my body was on fire. I dared not risk leaping on the little widows, all dressed in black, as they left late night prayers, lest some lingering piety clung dangerously to them.</p><p></p><p>I fell back into what fell natural, leaping upon the men who seem to lurk in every alley of every city in the world, with knives in their hands and sharp eyes -- but not sharp enough to spot me lurking above them.</p><p></p><p>I was reckless in my hunger, leaving their bodies where I had drained them and moving on to devour ever more, as though I could somehow fill up a century of appetites in a few blood-soaked nights now.</p><p></p><p>I slept in dark attics and basements. When I awoke, I would find a dusting of soil beneath me, which had come from some unknown source in the course of the day.</p><p></p><p>After some number of nights -- perhaps a week -- I was sober enough to clean myself up, put on fresher clothes and try to experience Florence in a civilized manner once again.</p><p></p><p>But soon I found myself entranced by perhaps the most beautiful people I had ever seen. I do not think my desire was sexual -- I could not now remember ever having had or acting upon sexual feelings -- but the beauty of their forms entranced me, and I followed the young people, chattering happily as they went, down streets and allies.</p><p></p><p>Finally, they let themselves up a set of stairs to a second story space above some shops.</p><p></p><p>I scurried up the outer wall after them, peering inside. Although I do not normally breathe, I gave a little gasp I saw them disrobing and a man arranging lights to create interesting shadows on their beautiful bodies as they posed, standing or sitting calmly.</p><p></p><p>My heart thundered in my chest and I felt a raging desire to do something. Whether it was to kill everyone involved, to join them, to fornicate, I do not know. But the feeling was overwhelming and my head swam. I was self-conscious, terrified one would glance up and see me staring at them, as pitiful as a lovestruck boy or a cat in heat.</p><p></p><p>The clothed man who had arranged the lights sat now and began sketching them with charcoal. The sound of it moving back and forth, back and forth across the paper lulled me into a state like sleep and I imagined it was me who was putting layer upon layer of charcoal on the page, deepening the shadows of an armpit or beneath the curve of a breast.</p><p></p><p>My skin began to tingle slightly with the sounds and when I opened my lazy eyes, I saw that I was in shadows myself, deeper and darker than any should have been. As I felt alarm, the shadows began to fade once more and I allowed myself to be lulled into a trance once more, and watched the shadows pour back in, like fog over the Rhein. It was me: I was doing this somehow, some sort of response to my century of sleep or my feral lurking in shadows now.</p><p></p><p>"Beautiful, aren't they?" a voice came from nearby in the eaves. I had always been quick to learn languages, even in life, I think, and Italian was enough like Portuguese for me to have learned the basics already. </p><p></p><p>I turned my head and there was a man dressed in black silks -- vampires all over the world seem to find it an irresistible color -- and a slim sword at his side, wedged between gutter and beam of the same roof I clung beneath.</p><p></p><p>I swallowed and nodded.</p><p></p><p>"They are off limits, though. Artist and model alike. Under orders of Il Chiarissimo. Ah, I see you have met him. Good. You have the look of a newcomer and I did not know if you knew our ways. Someone is killing sloppily in the city, and Il Chiarissimo will crucify whomever is responsible if he catches them. Pass the word along, will you?"</p><p></p><p>The other vampire smiled and nodded, and with a last lingering look at the models, flipped upwards onto the roof and, catlike, stole across the red clay tiles off into the night.</p><p></p><p>I watched the artist sketch the models for hours and knew that, whatever else Il Chiarissimo might be, he was right to preserve this in his city.</p><p>[spoiler="Character sheet"]Prompt 31 + 10 - 3 = Prompt 38</p><p></p><p><em>Your whole being becomes centered in your senses and your hungers. Create a Skill that demonstrates your feral vampire nature and lose an existing Memory.</em></p><p></p><p><strong>Wilhelm Black</strong></p><p><strong></strong></p><p><strong>Skills</strong>: </p><p>Bloodthirsty (checked); </p><p>Knows the secrets of killing vampires (checked);</p><p>I control the beast; </p><p>Skilled merchant; </p><p>Cook Portuguese seafood dishes;</p><p>Knowledgeable of medieval medicine; </p><p>Knowledge of vampire anatomy; </p><p>I can draw the shadows in around myself, creating supernatural hiding spaces</p><p></p><p><strong>Resources</strong>:</p><p>The Spear of Aeolius, an ancient Roman spear capable of killing vampires</p><p>Diary: A leather-bound German-made ledger book</p><p>An ever-beating heart, which magically will not di</p><p></p><p><strong>Characters</strong>:</p><p>Juião/Julian Black: a Portuguese orphan turned my servant turned vampire (Immortal); </p><p></p><p><strong>Marks</strong>: My eyes cannot stand bright light and I have to remain in shadows at all times; my touch is fatal to plants; </p><p></p><p><strong>Memories (five, up to three Experiences each)</strong>:</p><p>1: I am Guilliame d'Orléans: I rescue a dark-haired girl from attack and Constansia pledges herself to me, believing me to be a servant of Satan, and we soon wed; Constansia conducts her Satanic rituals and summons a demon, Raum, to serve me in the form of a raven;</p><p>2: I am Wilhelm Black: Brought into the society of the Nachtvolk of Cologne, I watched their leader slowly dismember a vampire, leaving him alive for hours, just in agony; with the help of the mortal Itzig family, I become a rich merchant, with investments across Europe.</p><p>3. I am Wilhelm Black: Julian, now a violent enforcer of the Nachtvolk, gifts me an ever-beating heart; </p><p>4. I am Wilhelm Black: After Florentine banks collapse during the 100 Years War, I move my banking operations from Cologne to Florence; poisoned by Averardo de' Medici, I wake up in Florence 100 years later, the Itzigs dead, my banking empire dismantled in my absence; </p><p>5.</p><p></p><p><strong>Diary (four memories, up to three Experiences each)</strong></p><p>1: I am Guilliame d'Orléans: The night the other heretics were burned alive, Carnutes fed upon me as I screamed in pitch black darkness; I confront Carnutes about him making me a vampire and he confesses he did it out of loneliness and tells me I will suffer in the same way some day; Carnutes possessed Raum and led the Archbishop of Tours' men to try and killed me -- but I used the Spear of Aeolius and killed Raum and Carnutes instead.</p><p>2: I am le Passeur or "the Frenchman": The Portuguese orphan Juião helps me after I am burned by sunlight, unafraid of my supernatural nature, and I take him in as my servant; Juião teaches me to cook with the seafood I catch underwater; at his urging, I prey on battlefield wounded as I tend to them.</p><p>[/spoiler]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Whizbang Dustyboots, post: 8848293, member: 11760"] [B]Florence, 1446[/B] It was Il Chiarissimo's little joke, or perhaps his warped sense of honor, that he had taken my fortune from me and my bankers, but left me my possessions, although surely he had wondered at them. In any case, I was turned out into Florence, alone, penniless, with no friends or acquaintances here. After confirming that no one had ever heard of the merchant empire that I can left behind a century ago up north, I compelled a merchant house sending goods north to take messages to Julian and others I knew in Cologne. I did not ever expect to hear back from them. So I wandered Florence, which truly was the greatest city I had ever set eyes on. In addition to banking, it was a great center of the textile industry, and all night and day, ships were coming in and going out, laden with traffic. Construction seemed to be underway on every corner, and not the grim gray buildings of Cologne, but red brick and tan stone and nearly every space imaginable was decorate with art works, including bronze bas-relief panels affixed to doors and statues in any intersection wider needed for two wagons to pass. But I could not focus on the wonders of the city. I was ravenous with hunger and it was almost all I could think about. But this was a city of churches, and, as I discovered as I reeled away from them in pain, some time in the last century, even approaching the threshold of a church or chapel made me feel like my body was on fire. I dared not risk leaping on the little widows, all dressed in black, as they left late night prayers, lest some lingering piety clung dangerously to them. I fell back into what fell natural, leaping upon the men who seem to lurk in every alley of every city in the world, with knives in their hands and sharp eyes -- but not sharp enough to spot me lurking above them. I was reckless in my hunger, leaving their bodies where I had drained them and moving on to devour ever more, as though I could somehow fill up a century of appetites in a few blood-soaked nights now. I slept in dark attics and basements. When I awoke, I would find a dusting of soil beneath me, which had come from some unknown source in the course of the day. After some number of nights -- perhaps a week -- I was sober enough to clean myself up, put on fresher clothes and try to experience Florence in a civilized manner once again. But soon I found myself entranced by perhaps the most beautiful people I had ever seen. I do not think my desire was sexual -- I could not now remember ever having had or acting upon sexual feelings -- but the beauty of their forms entranced me, and I followed the young people, chattering happily as they went, down streets and allies. Finally, they let themselves up a set of stairs to a second story space above some shops. I scurried up the outer wall after them, peering inside. Although I do not normally breathe, I gave a little gasp I saw them disrobing and a man arranging lights to create interesting shadows on their beautiful bodies as they posed, standing or sitting calmly. My heart thundered in my chest and I felt a raging desire to do something. Whether it was to kill everyone involved, to join them, to fornicate, I do not know. But the feeling was overwhelming and my head swam. I was self-conscious, terrified one would glance up and see me staring at them, as pitiful as a lovestruck boy or a cat in heat. The clothed man who had arranged the lights sat now and began sketching them with charcoal. The sound of it moving back and forth, back and forth across the paper lulled me into a state like sleep and I imagined it was me who was putting layer upon layer of charcoal on the page, deepening the shadows of an armpit or beneath the curve of a breast. My skin began to tingle slightly with the sounds and when I opened my lazy eyes, I saw that I was in shadows myself, deeper and darker than any should have been. As I felt alarm, the shadows began to fade once more and I allowed myself to be lulled into a trance once more, and watched the shadows pour back in, like fog over the Rhein. It was me: I was doing this somehow, some sort of response to my century of sleep or my feral lurking in shadows now. "Beautiful, aren't they?" a voice came from nearby in the eaves. I had always been quick to learn languages, even in life, I think, and Italian was enough like Portuguese for me to have learned the basics already. I turned my head and there was a man dressed in black silks -- vampires all over the world seem to find it an irresistible color -- and a slim sword at his side, wedged between gutter and beam of the same roof I clung beneath. I swallowed and nodded. "They are off limits, though. Artist and model alike. Under orders of Il Chiarissimo. Ah, I see you have met him. Good. You have the look of a newcomer and I did not know if you knew our ways. Someone is killing sloppily in the city, and Il Chiarissimo will crucify whomever is responsible if he catches them. Pass the word along, will you?" The other vampire smiled and nodded, and with a last lingering look at the models, flipped upwards onto the roof and, catlike, stole across the red clay tiles off into the night. I watched the artist sketch the models for hours and knew that, whatever else Il Chiarissimo might be, he was right to preserve this in his city. [spoiler="Character sheet"]Prompt 31 + 10 - 3 = Prompt 38 [I]Your whole being becomes centered in your senses and your hungers. Create a Skill that demonstrates your feral vampire nature and lose an existing Memory.[/I] [B]Wilhelm Black Skills[/B]: Bloodthirsty (checked); Knows the secrets of killing vampires (checked); I control the beast; Skilled merchant; Cook Portuguese seafood dishes; Knowledgeable of medieval medicine; Knowledge of vampire anatomy; I can draw the shadows in around myself, creating supernatural hiding spaces [B]Resources[/B]: The Spear of Aeolius, an ancient Roman spear capable of killing vampires Diary: A leather-bound German-made ledger book An ever-beating heart, which magically will not di [B]Characters[/B]: Juião/Julian Black: a Portuguese orphan turned my servant turned vampire (Immortal); [B]Marks[/B]: My eyes cannot stand bright light and I have to remain in shadows at all times; my touch is fatal to plants; [B]Memories (five, up to three Experiences each)[/B]: 1: I am Guilliame d'Orléans: I rescue a dark-haired girl from attack and Constansia pledges herself to me, believing me to be a servant of Satan, and we soon wed; Constansia conducts her Satanic rituals and summons a demon, Raum, to serve me in the form of a raven; 2: I am Wilhelm Black: Brought into the society of the Nachtvolk of Cologne, I watched their leader slowly dismember a vampire, leaving him alive for hours, just in agony; with the help of the mortal Itzig family, I become a rich merchant, with investments across Europe. 3. I am Wilhelm Black: Julian, now a violent enforcer of the Nachtvolk, gifts me an ever-beating heart; 4. I am Wilhelm Black: After Florentine banks collapse during the 100 Years War, I move my banking operations from Cologne to Florence; poisoned by Averardo de' Medici, I wake up in Florence 100 years later, the Itzigs dead, my banking empire dismantled in my absence; 5. [B]Diary (four memories, up to three Experiences each)[/B] 1: I am Guilliame d'Orléans: The night the other heretics were burned alive, Carnutes fed upon me as I screamed in pitch black darkness; I confront Carnutes about him making me a vampire and he confesses he did it out of loneliness and tells me I will suffer in the same way some day; Carnutes possessed Raum and led the Archbishop of Tours' men to try and killed me -- but I used the Spear of Aeolius and killed Raum and Carnutes instead. 2: I am le Passeur or "the Frenchman": The Portuguese orphan Juião helps me after I am burned by sunlight, unafraid of my supernatural nature, and I take him in as my servant; Juião teaches me to cook with the seafood I catch underwater; at his urging, I prey on battlefield wounded as I tend to them. [/spoiler] [/QUOTE]
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