Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5824038-20150415205542/@comment-5824038-20150911151726

Meledran was repulsed by the view of Leclaire being eaten, but in the end it was all he had deserved.

As the monsters apporached he calmly reloaded his pistol, took aim, and fired. The shot slammed into one of the beasts in what seemed like the chest cavity, but is carried on as though nothing had hit it.

'Bugger...' was Meledran's simple response.

____________

Jean Guetierre stood on his balcony, a glass of brandy in his hand. He sipped the drink slowly, watching the chaos unfurl in his city. Luckily, his balcony was still intact. It had been on the opposite side of the mansion to the Wind Reaver.

'A shame really,' he said to himself. 'Those beasts could have been invaluable to making my new world. But, unfortunately, it could only take a true monster to make such monsters, and Leclaire refused to acknowledge his own master.'

He took another sip, and felt the strong liquor burn his throat.

'I do hope Marya is well. The Crusade hasn't treated her well, after all...'

He sighed at the memory of the princess.

'She was the only one I actually wanted as an ally. Hunter was loyal, but unimaginative. Leclaire was too imaginative, that's why he betrayed me. But Marya... she would have understood me. I truly wish that I had more chances to talk to her, to make her realise what she was fighting against. What she could fight for.'

A head poked from behind the door. 'Is everything alright, sir?'

Guetierre whipped around, and snapped 'Yes, yes, everything is fine! Now leave me in peace!'

The butler quickly removed himself from his master's prescence.

Then the vampire had an idea. An intriguing idea. Perhaps he would be successful tonight, and kill Sander Lafayette and Captain Meledran. But, on the other hand, they might defeat him. Hopefully not, but it was still prossible.

''And if they do defeat me, what then? All of my power, gone to waste... All of my years of experimentation, gone... Somebody should have it.''

Perhaps Guetierre had grown affectionate of Marya, despite never having met her in person. After all, their minds had come in contact, and that was a much more intimate experience than real, human contact.

Or perhaps he felt sympathy for her plight, understood her situation. She had, after all, lost her family as well. The only difference here was that he had tried to do something about that.

Whatever the reason, Jean Guetierre decided that he wanted his power to be inherited.

A few minutes later, in his cellar, Guetierre drew a circle with chalk. Candles were lit all around it, and he drew his own blood and let it fill the area of the circle. Kneeling down in it, he began to make the proper invocations, and opened up the ritual.