Marchosias
(#3129924)
Level 25 Imperial
Familiar
Spined Cobra
Click or tap to view this dragon in Predict Morphology.
Energy: 50/50
This dragon’s natural inborn element is Wind.
Male Imperial
This dragon is hibernating.
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Personal Style
Apparel
Skin
Scene
Measurements
Length
28.02 m
Wingspan
21.89 m
Weight
8170.94 kg
Genetics
Obsidian
Iridescent
Iridescent
Green
Shimmer
Shimmer
Leaf
Underbelly
Underbelly
Hatchday
Breed
Eye Type
Level 25 Imperial
Max Level
STR
110
AGI
8
DEF
5
QCK
82
INT
5
VIT
20
MND
5
Biography
   
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Cruel, vicious, predatory, and deadly, Marchosias is a danger to humans and other vampires alike. A born hunter, he takes malicious pleasure in choosing and stalking his prey to their painful, bloody end. His chases are neither swift, nor unnoticed by his chosen prey. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt, and makes sure his prey is well aware that they're being hunted. Sometimes he'll toy with them for hours before he drains them of blood and moves on to his next meal. He's stubborn, and should some chosen victim escape his first attack alive, he will stalk them without cease until he can finish what he started. Not even his own kind are safe, as he does not shy away from drinking the blood of other vampires any more than he does humans. He feels no more kinship to them than he does any mere human, and sees no reason why they should be spared. He feels that he is superior to all of them, and so it's fitting that he should take inferior human and vampire alike as prey. Even as a child, perhaps something about him seemed wrong. His parents abandoned him as a baby, where he was found by a patrol of guards and hastily taken to a nearby orphanage to be cared for. However, as he grew into a young child, and then a boy, there was still no home for him. He was adopted by several couples, but his odd habits of silently following others around or watching them with wide eyes, and his unusual appearance, all caused them to deem the child creepy, perhaps even cursed, and they quickly returned him to the orphanage. After a while, his reputation spread, and no more prospective parents even wanted to see him. Young Marchosias didn't understand what was wrong with him. He saw the other children come and go while he stayed behind, knowing that the longer he was there, the less likely he was to ever be adopted. Driven by grief and desperation, he ran away, determined to find some place to be his home. However, his luck didn't deign to smile on him any more than it already had. He got lost in the woods he'd run away into. He didn't know how to survive on his own in the wild, or how to navigate in a strange place. All the forest looked the same him, and no matter how he wandered, he couldn't find a road, or any sign of civilization. He tried, in desperation, to find his way back to the orphanage, but never managed, only getting more and more lost as he wandered through the woods. Day turned into night, then day, then night again. His meager stash of food ran low, and then ran out. He wandered for days, weak from hunger and thirst, exhausted from pushing himself forward hoping to find someone. In such a state, he couldn't even put up a fight when he was found by a roving gang of slave traders. His life had been hard before, but it turned to misery now. He was sold at a black market auction to a rich and influential family. He was worked like the lowliest servant, given the most monotonous and backbreaking work despite his youth. If he put a foot wrong, he was punished severely. He would be starved, beaten, or forced to work through the night too, given only a few paltry hours rest on the ragged blanket and stone floor that served as his bed. Despite the harsh punishments, he still tried to fight. He attempted to run away several times, but he was always hunted down, punished, and brought back to be punished again. On his last escape attempt, he had his face shoved into a pile of embers and held there, burning him severely and blinding him in his right eye. That was the thing that broke him. After years of fighting, he was too tired to fight anymore. He stopped trying to fight, stopped showing defiance, or anger, or any emotion at all, growing numb inside. He did what he was told listlessly, silently, and obediently. But with nothing left to lose, he was pushed too far. When he accidentally spilled a cup of tea, staining his master's new rug, he was imprisoned for his “insolence.” Left locked in a cell, alone, for days without food or water, dying of hunger, delirious, he had frequent hallucinations that he was lost and starving in the forest again. When a guard finally opened his cell, he had a confused vision that the man was a slaver, an enemy, and attacked. The second he buried his teeth in the man's flesh, the hunger that had been gnawing at him roared into an insatiable need. He drained the guard's blood, but he needed more. He painted the walls of his former master's estate in blood that night, sating his hunger, and leaving none alive. Then he vanished, leaving only a massacre behind. Nowadays, the only sign of the scared, downtrodden slave he used to be is the eyepatch he wears to hide his burns and ruined eye. But when he hunts his prey, it always feels like vengeance for the child he was, who was hunted down so many times and caught to be dragged back to a fate worse than death. He has promised himself that he will never starve again, and ruthlessly pursues his prey. A loner, he prefers to keep to himself, but lately he's found himself fascinated with a young woman, Jeanne, following her with dogged persistence. Although she's fended him off successfully, and her brother helps keep Marchosias at bay, he is too stubborn to leave her. He tells himself that he follows her out of stubbornness, refusing to abandon a chase, but there is admiration, there, and even grudging affection, deeply buried, and unfamiliar to someone who never before felt it. He would never admit anything but that he despises her, and never misses an opportunity to say so, nor does she. He also hates her brother, Nerween, with whom the feeling is very mutual. Nonetheless, he dogs the pair of them lurking wherever they might be found, and showing up in the most unexpected places. ~Story by me, rewritten by Mirrorstone |
Short Stories
1.
He lazed up in the trees, watching her silently. Already he had been spotted, but not that he cared. This was the only prey he would leave alive a little bit longer and-
“Ow!” he yelled, falling out of the tree. The rock landed beside him, the woman he was watching standing over him with anger burning in her eyes. Only once had he gotten onto her bad side and had to run—quite literally—away. She didn't seem close to changing this time. “What's the big idea!”
“Stalking people is creepy,” Jeanne hissed at him, kicking his leg before picking the rock back up. “If you want to follow me around, at least do it like a normal person.”
“Have you ever thought about that statement?” Marchosias? Normal? Please.
“If you keep stalking me I'll throw a bigger rock. The only reason I even put up with you is because of how sorry I feel.”
Sorry, yeah right. Marchosias stood up and brushed himself off, fixing his coat, pretending to not care about the red lump forming on his cheek. Once Jeanne got some good distance, he spun on his heels and followed, getting another rock thrown at him. This one almost hit his nose, but he moved just in time.
“Hey!”
“Normal person means not using a ten feet distance!” Jeanne waited for him to catch up, giving him a glare. “Why are you so weird?”
“Ask my non-existent parents.”
“You're like a little ray of sunshine, brightening up my life. What would I ever do without you?” She rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, taking the path out of the forest. She had found what her brother had asked for, the mushrooms being kept in a damp sack. Marchosias followed quietly, something sneaking glances at her. No, he didn't like her, it was just curiosity. That's it. Well, he liked her attitude, but not her as a person. She was loud, annoying, scary when upset, and, oh right, her brother was a twerp.
“Do you have to take that stuff to him?” Marchosias asked, tilting his nose up at the bag. “He can get them himself.”
“Don't talk about my brother, don't think about my brother, and most of all, stay away from my brother.”
“I just asked a question!”
She stuck her foot out in front of him, causing him to trip and fall on his face.
“He's beauty, he's grace, he'll fall on his face,” she said as she rushed away. By the time Marchosias got himself to his elbows, she was gone, lost in the woods and soon to be the village. For now, that is. Hide as she might, she still smelled. Curse that woman. He got up and brushed himself off before following her scent, giving a curse when he rounded a corner in the village. The sweet shops were clogging her scent. She smelled like chocolate anyway, especially since she ate it all the time. Clever witch... oh well, there was one scent that was easy to track. He turned his head and followed the smell of death and decay, knowing that where her brother was, she would be. As he neared the small area her brother was staying in, Marchosias was defeated by—not a rock—but a mushroom. He jumped back from the disgusting thing, sticking out his tongue at it. Jeanne glared at him, hands on her hips as she blocked the exit of the alleyway, protecting the place her brother was at.
“Turn around,” she demanded. Marchosias blinked, before he took a few steps back, getting shoved further down the alleyway.
“Why are you always so mean to me?” he asked with a chuckle, a harder shove almost making him fall backwards.
“I don't know. Maybe its the way you drain blood from people, or perhaps the fact you hate my brother. Or maybe because you're annoying!” She glared at up him, Marchosias couldn't help but think she looked like an angry kitten. A kitten with a lot of claws, and could breathe fire if he pushed it enough. No, he didn't like her. He kept telling himself that, because what did affection even feel like? Was it not getting beat or...
She reached up and poked his eye patch. “If you want to be friends then you have to stop treating me like your prey and you have to respect my brother. Understand?”
“Who says I want to be friends?”
She stared at him with disbelief. Marchosias did not want to be friends, he was just curious! Why was curiosity a crime? He never hurt... well, he hurt a lot of people and things, but not her! Maybe her brother on occasion, or he tried to, but that was besides the point. If he wanted her dead, he would have killed her by now. Yes, that's exactly right. No other reason. It wasn't denial, it was fact! Jeanne tilted her head to the side and gave him a stranger look.
“You follow me around but never actually went through with the hunt. Either you are desperate for affection or you're scared.”
“I am not scared!”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at him, his one eye focusing on her finger, making him look half-way cross-eyed. “So you are desperate for affection!”
“I am not! Why would I be?”
“I don't know much about you, Marchosias, but I would say you've had a tough life. So you must want something positive in it for once.”
“That's silly. You've gone mad.”
“Maybe, but at least I can admit when I'm lonely.” She spun on her heels once more and walked back down the alleyway to return to her brother, leaving the vampire there to ponder over what she said. Was he lonely?
~by Dew
“Ow!” he yelled, falling out of the tree. The rock landed beside him, the woman he was watching standing over him with anger burning in her eyes. Only once had he gotten onto her bad side and had to run—quite literally—away. She didn't seem close to changing this time. “What's the big idea!”
“Stalking people is creepy,” Jeanne hissed at him, kicking his leg before picking the rock back up. “If you want to follow me around, at least do it like a normal person.”
“Have you ever thought about that statement?” Marchosias? Normal? Please.
“If you keep stalking me I'll throw a bigger rock. The only reason I even put up with you is because of how sorry I feel.”
Sorry, yeah right. Marchosias stood up and brushed himself off, fixing his coat, pretending to not care about the red lump forming on his cheek. Once Jeanne got some good distance, he spun on his heels and followed, getting another rock thrown at him. This one almost hit his nose, but he moved just in time.
“Hey!”
“Normal person means not using a ten feet distance!” Jeanne waited for him to catch up, giving him a glare. “Why are you so weird?”
“Ask my non-existent parents.”
“You're like a little ray of sunshine, brightening up my life. What would I ever do without you?” She rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, taking the path out of the forest. She had found what her brother had asked for, the mushrooms being kept in a damp sack. Marchosias followed quietly, something sneaking glances at her. No, he didn't like her, it was just curiosity. That's it. Well, he liked her attitude, but not her as a person. She was loud, annoying, scary when upset, and, oh right, her brother was a twerp.
“Do you have to take that stuff to him?” Marchosias asked, tilting his nose up at the bag. “He can get them himself.”
“Don't talk about my brother, don't think about my brother, and most of all, stay away from my brother.”
“I just asked a question!”
She stuck her foot out in front of him, causing him to trip and fall on his face.
“He's beauty, he's grace, he'll fall on his face,” she said as she rushed away. By the time Marchosias got himself to his elbows, she was gone, lost in the woods and soon to be the village. For now, that is. Hide as she might, she still smelled. Curse that woman. He got up and brushed himself off before following her scent, giving a curse when he rounded a corner in the village. The sweet shops were clogging her scent. She smelled like chocolate anyway, especially since she ate it all the time. Clever witch... oh well, there was one scent that was easy to track. He turned his head and followed the smell of death and decay, knowing that where her brother was, she would be. As he neared the small area her brother was staying in, Marchosias was defeated by—not a rock—but a mushroom. He jumped back from the disgusting thing, sticking out his tongue at it. Jeanne glared at him, hands on her hips as she blocked the exit of the alleyway, protecting the place her brother was at.
“Turn around,” she demanded. Marchosias blinked, before he took a few steps back, getting shoved further down the alleyway.
“Why are you always so mean to me?” he asked with a chuckle, a harder shove almost making him fall backwards.
“I don't know. Maybe its the way you drain blood from people, or perhaps the fact you hate my brother. Or maybe because you're annoying!” She glared at up him, Marchosias couldn't help but think she looked like an angry kitten. A kitten with a lot of claws, and could breathe fire if he pushed it enough. No, he didn't like her. He kept telling himself that, because what did affection even feel like? Was it not getting beat or...
She reached up and poked his eye patch. “If you want to be friends then you have to stop treating me like your prey and you have to respect my brother. Understand?”
“Who says I want to be friends?”
She stared at him with disbelief. Marchosias did not want to be friends, he was just curious! Why was curiosity a crime? He never hurt... well, he hurt a lot of people and things, but not her! Maybe her brother on occasion, or he tried to, but that was besides the point. If he wanted her dead, he would have killed her by now. Yes, that's exactly right. No other reason. It wasn't denial, it was fact! Jeanne tilted her head to the side and gave him a stranger look.
“You follow me around but never actually went through with the hunt. Either you are desperate for affection or you're scared.”
“I am not scared!”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at him, his one eye focusing on her finger, making him look half-way cross-eyed. “So you are desperate for affection!”
“I am not! Why would I be?”
“I don't know much about you, Marchosias, but I would say you've had a tough life. So you must want something positive in it for once.”
“That's silly. You've gone mad.”
“Maybe, but at least I can admit when I'm lonely.” She spun on her heels once more and walked back down the alleyway to return to her brother, leaving the vampire there to ponder over what she said. Was he lonely?
~by Dew
2.
A thick rain had covered the city, blurring out the lights coming from the windows. Most everyone was curled up by the fire, enjoying a hot drink and some time with the sound of the gentle rain. The soft pitter-patter was enough to put almost anyone to sleep. The thunder gave a gentle growl and flashed once or twice to warn of its presence. It was a peaceful night. A night that was supposed to be relaxing. A night meant to wash away the sins of the land and bring forth a new day. Such a night should not go to waste, but some could not help their circumstance. A few wandered the streets, stomping in the mud while trying to get home. The streets were deserted of carts and horses. The only traffic that day was of the storm drains, the water rushing by, trying to get where it was going. The people that were out were all approaching home. They hurried along like the stream of water towards the drains. Only one person wasn't going home that night. He sat in the rain, cowering in his cloak.
One eye watched the shadows through the thin curtain. He could pick up faint voices on the other side. Damn the rain. His prey wasn't leaving tonight. With a deep rumble, Marchosias turned to leave. He slid down the edge of the building and began to go on the stalk for easier prey. He knew she was here in the city, but he wasn't in the mood of dealing with him. All of the prey he had stalked earlier had already retreated in doors. Usually, the vampire would be all for sneaking his way inside and taking what he wanted, but he wasn't in the mood tonight. He wanted easy prey. Something to tide him over for the night and that's it. The rain was making him sleepy enough as it is. Some days, toying with prey was just too much. When the hunger pains started then you knew it was time to just eating something and get it over with. But something had been making the feeding much harder recently.
He heard a low cough. He froze and backed into the shadows, waiting patiently. Someone walked past the alley way. Marchosias moved a few moments after, following the man silently. Soon. He could taste the blood. He took another step, ready to launch for the kill, but something felt... wrong. Marchosias made a random turn and left his prey alone. He knew this feeling. The rat was watching him. Then that meant his sister was left alone.
“I know you are here,” said Marchosias bitterly. The rain continued to fall. The thunder rumbled a hello in response. Marchosias snorted back. Lighting flashed a frown. “Coward.”
Nothing.
With an angry growl, the vampire turned on his heels and walked up the street. He had to find some shelter for the night. He could survive one night without food. He could survive weeks, no, months. But it was uncomfortable. The feeling of hunger eating at his stomach, making him feel weak and ill. Sleep would help the feeling disappear, at least for one day. Tomorrow he would go hunting and probably treat himself to someone with a clean neck. This town was not as clean as one would hope. But what could Marchosias do? He was still hunting his prey... no, not prey. She had given him specific instructions not to treat her as such, but it was in his nature. She was food, and sooner or later he would figure out why he couldn't just snap her neck and take the blood he needed to survive. Today was not that day. Tomorrow didn't look very good either.
He shrugged off the wet cloak after he found his way into the abandoned theater. It was old. Smelly. The wooden benches having rotted years ago. But it was dry. He scooped up a scurrying rat and bit into it. Eh. It was an appetizer. Food was food. He tossed the limp body away and kicked his way around the trash. He had to find some sort of way to talk to her again. But getting past that worm would be difficult, it would be-
THUNK!
He raised his hand to the back of his head and tapped his green hair. Blood. A question rose in this throat, but his breath soon replaced it with a firm kick to the back. Marchosias caught himself on the fall and charged, tackling the smaller man to the ground. Nerween sunk his teeth into the vampire's arm, slamming a torn looking wing into the vampire's jaw. The pain made Marchosias rear back, letting go of the necromancer. Both of the men were bleeding, deep scrapes on their arms and faces. They stood facing each other, both deeply growling. Fangs and claws bared. A deal was keeping Marchosias back, a promise he made to her—to Jeanne. But what was holding the necromancer back? Surely the boy had a trick or two up his sleeve, surely he came here with a plan! Marchosias straighten his back and stopped growling. The other was enraged, to the point that he had physically changed. The hate in his eyes was... confused, though. There was no point in fighting if neither of them understood the reason, other than Jeanne.
“Are you going to talk or keep spitting at-” the dark spell flew by his head, the sound of wind hissing filling Marchosias's ear. He had ducked just in time. He stared at the other in near shock. Never had he actually tried to kill him before. This was something different. Marchosias fought with himself. He could tear the punk apart but he always kept his promises. Well, not always, but for her? Yes. He raised his hands. Confusion spread on Nerween's face. “Why are you upset with me? I didn't do anything wrong... this time. For at least an hour.”
Nerween folded his wings back. He was still poised to attack. Silence passed between them and Nerween seemed to calm down enough to speak. “You hurt her!” he growled. Marchosias blinked.
“Who? Jeanne? Why would I hurt Jeanne?”
“Says the vampire!” Nerween got ready to charge again and Marchosias rolled his eyes. He moved fast, pinning the smaller one up against the wall, making sure he kept the smaller man's hands behind his back.
“Listen to me, kid, because I am only going to say this once. I got to this town tonight. Just a few hours ago. I have been hunting for a meal but seeing as its raining and I'm in a bad mood, I came here. How in the world could I have hurt your sister in that amount of time?” Marchosias was sure he had a firm hold on the necromancer, but a blast of dark magic sent him back. Nerween launched at him again, slashing his upper arm. It stung.
“We went into the market today to get some food to last us while we were here,” he hissed, “I was gone for two minutes at the sweet shop and when I went back to her she had a bloody nose and was scratched up!”
“That doesn't mean I did it! Besides, I toy with my prey mentally, not physically!” Marchosias knew he had to get a hold on the situation. “Did she say what the attacker looked like?”
“She said he wore a black cloak, then told me not to worry about it.”
That was it. Marchosias cursed under his breath. Yeah, that usually meant it was him. He almost couldn't get mad at this kid but... well, as much as Marchosias hated Nerween, he would keep his promise and not hurt him. For now. He had new prey.
“I need the clothes she was wearing today,” he said suddenly. Nerween blinked. “Just a shred of something. But it needs blood on it. Trust me. By tomorrow you'll understand.” The necromancer wasn't seeing it. “Do this for me and I'll leave both of you alone for a month.”
That did it. Nerween was gone before Marchosias could say or do anything else. A few moments later something dropped on the ground. It was a shred of the bottom of Jeanne's shirt. Marchosias sniffed at the blood specks and smirked. Oh, he knew that smell. Part of it was the woman's. The other? The man unfortunate enough to have crossed Marchosias's path. Looks like he was going to have dinner tonight.
~by Dew
One eye watched the shadows through the thin curtain. He could pick up faint voices on the other side. Damn the rain. His prey wasn't leaving tonight. With a deep rumble, Marchosias turned to leave. He slid down the edge of the building and began to go on the stalk for easier prey. He knew she was here in the city, but he wasn't in the mood of dealing with him. All of the prey he had stalked earlier had already retreated in doors. Usually, the vampire would be all for sneaking his way inside and taking what he wanted, but he wasn't in the mood tonight. He wanted easy prey. Something to tide him over for the night and that's it. The rain was making him sleepy enough as it is. Some days, toying with prey was just too much. When the hunger pains started then you knew it was time to just eating something and get it over with. But something had been making the feeding much harder recently.
He heard a low cough. He froze and backed into the shadows, waiting patiently. Someone walked past the alley way. Marchosias moved a few moments after, following the man silently. Soon. He could taste the blood. He took another step, ready to launch for the kill, but something felt... wrong. Marchosias made a random turn and left his prey alone. He knew this feeling. The rat was watching him. Then that meant his sister was left alone.
“I know you are here,” said Marchosias bitterly. The rain continued to fall. The thunder rumbled a hello in response. Marchosias snorted back. Lighting flashed a frown. “Coward.”
Nothing.
With an angry growl, the vampire turned on his heels and walked up the street. He had to find some shelter for the night. He could survive one night without food. He could survive weeks, no, months. But it was uncomfortable. The feeling of hunger eating at his stomach, making him feel weak and ill. Sleep would help the feeling disappear, at least for one day. Tomorrow he would go hunting and probably treat himself to someone with a clean neck. This town was not as clean as one would hope. But what could Marchosias do? He was still hunting his prey... no, not prey. She had given him specific instructions not to treat her as such, but it was in his nature. She was food, and sooner or later he would figure out why he couldn't just snap her neck and take the blood he needed to survive. Today was not that day. Tomorrow didn't look very good either.
He shrugged off the wet cloak after he found his way into the abandoned theater. It was old. Smelly. The wooden benches having rotted years ago. But it was dry. He scooped up a scurrying rat and bit into it. Eh. It was an appetizer. Food was food. He tossed the limp body away and kicked his way around the trash. He had to find some sort of way to talk to her again. But getting past that worm would be difficult, it would be-
THUNK!
He raised his hand to the back of his head and tapped his green hair. Blood. A question rose in this throat, but his breath soon replaced it with a firm kick to the back. Marchosias caught himself on the fall and charged, tackling the smaller man to the ground. Nerween sunk his teeth into the vampire's arm, slamming a torn looking wing into the vampire's jaw. The pain made Marchosias rear back, letting go of the necromancer. Both of the men were bleeding, deep scrapes on their arms and faces. They stood facing each other, both deeply growling. Fangs and claws bared. A deal was keeping Marchosias back, a promise he made to her—to Jeanne. But what was holding the necromancer back? Surely the boy had a trick or two up his sleeve, surely he came here with a plan! Marchosias straighten his back and stopped growling. The other was enraged, to the point that he had physically changed. The hate in his eyes was... confused, though. There was no point in fighting if neither of them understood the reason, other than Jeanne.
“Are you going to talk or keep spitting at-” the dark spell flew by his head, the sound of wind hissing filling Marchosias's ear. He had ducked just in time. He stared at the other in near shock. Never had he actually tried to kill him before. This was something different. Marchosias fought with himself. He could tear the punk apart but he always kept his promises. Well, not always, but for her? Yes. He raised his hands. Confusion spread on Nerween's face. “Why are you upset with me? I didn't do anything wrong... this time. For at least an hour.”
Nerween folded his wings back. He was still poised to attack. Silence passed between them and Nerween seemed to calm down enough to speak. “You hurt her!” he growled. Marchosias blinked.
“Who? Jeanne? Why would I hurt Jeanne?”
“Says the vampire!” Nerween got ready to charge again and Marchosias rolled his eyes. He moved fast, pinning the smaller one up against the wall, making sure he kept the smaller man's hands behind his back.
“Listen to me, kid, because I am only going to say this once. I got to this town tonight. Just a few hours ago. I have been hunting for a meal but seeing as its raining and I'm in a bad mood, I came here. How in the world could I have hurt your sister in that amount of time?” Marchosias was sure he had a firm hold on the necromancer, but a blast of dark magic sent him back. Nerween launched at him again, slashing his upper arm. It stung.
“We went into the market today to get some food to last us while we were here,” he hissed, “I was gone for two minutes at the sweet shop and when I went back to her she had a bloody nose and was scratched up!”
“That doesn't mean I did it! Besides, I toy with my prey mentally, not physically!” Marchosias knew he had to get a hold on the situation. “Did she say what the attacker looked like?”
“She said he wore a black cloak, then told me not to worry about it.”
That was it. Marchosias cursed under his breath. Yeah, that usually meant it was him. He almost couldn't get mad at this kid but... well, as much as Marchosias hated Nerween, he would keep his promise and not hurt him. For now. He had new prey.
“I need the clothes she was wearing today,” he said suddenly. Nerween blinked. “Just a shred of something. But it needs blood on it. Trust me. By tomorrow you'll understand.” The necromancer wasn't seeing it. “Do this for me and I'll leave both of you alone for a month.”
That did it. Nerween was gone before Marchosias could say or do anything else. A few moments later something dropped on the ground. It was a shred of the bottom of Jeanne's shirt. Marchosias sniffed at the blood specks and smirked. Oh, he knew that smell. Part of it was the woman's. The other? The man unfortunate enough to have crossed Marchosias's path. Looks like he was going to have dinner tonight.
~by Dew
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