Shadow Hunters


A sad parting.

Miria left the hall quietly with a heavy heart. Her excuse of having to go to the privy would not hold long but she was counting on the council members to keep her companions busy long enough to get to the temple. Leaving the secret chambers she mumbled a hasty excuse to the door guards and exited the building to the empty streets of Outlook.

There Miria stopped dead on her tracks. In the shadows a figure could be seen. Reflexively her hand went to Raven´s Tooth hilt. “Damn! That vampire again.” she hissed.

“Did you miss me mortal?” The figure laughed “I was just waiting for you. I have tasted your blood, you can´t hide from me. Now, be a good sheep and come with me, my Master awaits. He has been searching you for a long time and grows impatient.”

Finding enough will to tear her gaze away from the vampire Miria stood her ground. “No monster, I know now who your Master is and I am not going to accompany you. You will have to kill me first and he will not be pleased if you dare to do so.”

The vampire smiled “So we are at a standstill, yes?” his gaze went from the fighter in front to the building she had exited. “Perhaps other ways could be used to comply with my Masters wishes, child.”

Miria faltered for a second thinking about her friends, most importantly Syral. “No!” desperately she tried to bluff her way out and save her friends. “I… I will not follow you, but tell… tell your Master that I will meet with him in Tradetown in half a candle. If he really wants me he can come then, not before.”

“You are too bold mortal, you misjudge your position. You are not but a glorified pet.” Said the vampire as he blended with the shadows the whispered “Anyway I´ll comply with your wishes and convey your words to my Master. We can follow you if you try to escape”.

Miria bit her lip in an effort to control her panic. This was to soon, she had to move fast and try to trick her way out or everything would have been for naught. Running through the dark streets she reached the Battle Chamber building and went to her room. Entering, she stood looking the bed for a second and remembering its last occupant.

Crying, she took a parchment from her backpack and put it on the bed. Slowly, Miria untied her Highborn mask and removing it from her face, kissed it and deposited it besides the letter. Tears fell on the lacquered material. “I am sorry my love” she managed to mutter between sobs “I wish I could change it, I wish I could take you with me.” then with a last “I hope you understand.” she took her backpack and closed the door.

Steeling herself, Miria crossed the town. If someone recognized her they dared not stop her as her naked face radiated with such a determination that made even the worst gang members run away in fear. Entering the market plaza, she stopped in the middle and waited, while some nocturne souls stared at her.

The wait was not long. “We meet again at last, my beloved” A dark, hooded figure carrying an executioners axe entered the plaza from the opposite side, the few drunks and patrons of the night market hastily run away from the noise of steel boots striking the stone. A gauntlet went to the hood and threw it back. Miria averted her eyes from the figure to avoid the pain of remembering his face, his loving smile turned into a predatory snarl. To avoid looking at his fangs.

“You refuse me!? don´t you want to see what have I become just for you, my love?” the voice echoed on the empty square. “Look at me!” The vampire thundered. His free hand extended to the fighter beckoning as his voice lowered, changed, commanded “Look at my face. Come to me. Take my hand and be mine my love, forever!”.

Somewhere deep inside a voice screamed in horrified denial as her face started to rise towards the vampire knight. One foot shifted, then stepped closer to the vampire, her hand reached forward. Eyes met and she knew she was lost. His smile grew gentle as he pulled her close against him, arms wrapping warm around her. He lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, barely touching and never breaking eye contact.

“There now. This is much better, is it not?”

He stroked her face and a languid heat spread heavy over her mortal flesh. Her head drooped, seeking the strength of his shoulder, but his fingers under her chin prevented her motion. To do so would pull her eyes from his and he couldn’t have that. Not yet. He kissed her again, backing slowly into the shadows. One arm vined around her waist, lifting her. She clung, whimpering as he devoured her defiance. Looking away was no longer an option. He had her, almost entirely.

“A boon my Lord, a boon and a promise, I beg you Lord” she managed to say with the last shreds of her will.

“You dare, child? why should I grant you this boon?” The eyes commanded, fangs glittering under the dim light of the streets.

“Because I will freely give what can not be taken. In the name of the love I have for you, you will never attack my friends for I will give my virtue by my own will.” she paused “Because in exchange of one more day to say my farewells I will give you the blade of the Shadowfel, a powerful weapon that now has part of my soul. That way I will be your complete slave, body and soul.”

He laughed, “Ahhhh. I can taste your fear for your friends like a wine sliding over my tongue. Let me sip once more.” He kissed her again this time drawing blood “So sweet, beloved. I am going to enjoy you. I´ll grant your boon and promise on my honor not to attack your friends but I´ll take my reward before I release you.”

Lowering her gaze she said “There is a place nearby, it´s called the Lady´s Bodice.”

“Take me there.”

Next thing she realized, a bed lay firm under her back. He leaned over her, slowly removing her armor, while she arched into his touch. Every time her eyes tried to close, he drew her gaze back. His smile was lazy as he worked. Time lost all meaning, her world reduced to glittering eyes and impossibly warm hands. He peeled armor and fabric away as if unwrapping a treasured gift, his fingers doing the seeing for him. She spiraled into need. He leaned back, then stepped away from her. Cool air licked at her naked flesh. She watched, aching, as he stripped away his plate armor and attire. She wanted so much to drink in the view, but the ruby eyes held her firm. Her hands reached for him, craving his naked muscles, sound coming from parted lips.

“Invite me.”

A measure of will came back to Miria. She found her voice, and managed a weak, “No.”

His laughter was soft and indulgent. He took a single step toward the bed, power rippling off of him.

“Invite me, Miria D´Urban. For I am your True Love.”

Eyes darkened and glowed, reasserting control. She groaned, turning her head away, then groaned again. She could not break eye contact and that was her only hope of salvation. A swirl settled between her thighs, ruffling the tangle of pink curls. She cried out, parting her legs, biting her lip against the words battering free.

Once more, he came to her, soothing her with his touch. She shivered as his body slid over hers. His fingers brushed up her legs, stroked her arms, to her cheek. Once more, his voice resonated through her. She was drowning in heat, falling at a deadly rate into primal lust while he remained calm. A second face entered Miria´s feverish mind, making her lose control, wiping away the last of denials. When he whispered again, staring at her so intently, she could breathe but one damning word.


Her neck was bared to him, the pulse offered freely now as her voice crashed and her mind fled to the other image inside her, “Syral…”

When she woke, she was disoriented. She opened her eyes carefully, recognizing the room. She was still naked, blood on her thighs and on the pillows, one hand slapped to her neck, already the wounds were closed. Her clothes and armor were spread nearby, Raven´s Tooth missing from its sheath. Her body still ached with satisfaction, betraying the storm in her mind. She snatched her shirt up and started to cry while she dressed. When she sat down to put on her boots, a wave of dizziness struck, forcing her to lean back against the chair. “It was the only way” she kept repeating “The only way to protect her”.

Quickly, with the lure of the bed and the memory of his touch pulling, she slipped out of the room. With luck, she could get to the relative safety of temple and be away before her companions would have time to find her.

She continued crying.


Goodbye Miria! I actually feel a little sorry for Mordred because even though she is down, she is certainly not out. Derezz the bum!


. . .damn mister, you know how to write a story. I cry for you Miria. But at the same time the thought of,“you can’t touch a unicorn anymore, hahaha” is going through my head.


Then what are you waiting for? write your version of how many ways Miria screwed the situation (pun intended or perhaps not :P)


You people are awful. ;_;


Miria will always be remembered fondly.

I guess I will have to step up my story telling a bit. That was quite well told.


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