Empire of Shadows, Noctem Wu Dynasty (ACCs) - Revision history

Lilicop at 18:24, 27 June 2026

2026-06-27T18:24:45Z

Raziel: /* Ɲιgнтωιѕн */

2026-03-17T01:31:00Z

Ɲιgнтωιѕн

Raziel: /* Bloodrose */

2026-03-17T01:30:37Z

Bloodrose

Raziel: /* Delgado Coven */

2026-03-17T01:30:11Z

Delgado Coven

Raziel: /* Mҽɱҽɳƚσ Mσɾι Cσʋҽɳ */

2026-03-17T01:29:50Z

Mҽɱҽɳƚσ Mσɾι Cσʋҽɳ

Lilicop: /* Ɲιgнтωιѕн */

2026-02-21T23:52:50Z

Ɲιgнтωιѕн

Lilicop: /* Ɲιgнтωιѕн */

2026-02-21T23:51:57Z

Ɲιgнтωιѕн

Lilicop: /* Ɲιgнтωιѕн */

2026-02-21T23:51:21Z

Ɲιgнтωιѕн

Raziel: /* Ɲιgнтωιѕн */

2025-10-26T19:28:14Z

Ɲιgнтωιѕн

Show changes

Raziel at 19:24, 26 October 2025

2025-10-26T19:24:11Z

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 |Patron Diabolic:
 |Parthenia Church-Horngold (partheniachurch)
-|-
 |}

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 After more than 700 years, Gitana, now 880 years old since her human death, returns to her homeland, the now-established Spain, passing through the same place where centuries ago she was the victim of a massacre at the hands of other vampires feeding on Christian monks and nuns.
 For centuries she watched as several generations of her Bourbon descendants ruled parts of Europe. After the end of the royal house's heyday, she decided in the 21st century to create her own bloodline, using the name of her human offspring's royal house, Borbón in Castilian, and merging it with her former human surname, Castillo. Thus, she founded the house of darkness of Borbón y Castillo in vampire society.
 |}

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 |History:
 |TBA
 |}

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 |Liaison:
 |Not Assigned
 |-
 |History:

← Older revision		Revision as of 01:29, 17 March 2026
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	Today Protego Diabolica is a house of those who choose to educate themselves with the knowledge of our world while roaming the globe choosing to assist and guide those in the family who are in need. Protego Diabloica's members today are out there to help and provide the family joy in their hearts, and smiles on their faces, while collecting the precious knowledge of Progeny, the secret underground society they all choose to co-exist in. Though still a young growing establishing house after its long slumber, it still houses some of the most brilliant, powerful vampires of history.		Today Protego Diabolica is a house of those who choose to educate themselves with the knowledge of our world while roaming the globe choosing to assist and guide those in the family who are in need. Protego Diabloica's members today are out there to help and provide the family joy in their hearts, and smiles on their faces, while collecting the precious knowledge of Progeny, the secret underground society they all choose to co-exist in. Though still a young growing establishing house after its long slumber, it still houses some of the most brilliant, powerful vampires of history.
−
−
−	\|}
−
−	~~===Mҽɱҽɳƚσ Mσɾι Cσʋҽɳ===~~
−	~~{\| class="wikitable"~~
−	~~!colspan="10"\|Mҽɱҽɳƚσ Mσɾι Cσʋҽɳ~~
−	\|-
−	~~\|rowspan="4"\|[[File:Memento Mori Coven1.jpg \|200px\|thumb\|center\| ]]~~
−	~~\|Princeps:~~
−	~~\|Meraa Kiyori (meraa.kiyori)~~
−	\|-
−	~~\|Delegate:~~
−	~~\|ЯӨBΣЯƬ VΣGΛƧ (astrafe)~~
−	\|-
−	~~\|Liaison:~~
−	~~\|Not assigned~~
−	\|-
−	~~\|History:~~
−	~~\|TBA~~

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 |-
 |History:
-|It was near midnight. The moon hung heavy and full in the sky, bathing the world in a silvery glow. In a grand old manor veiled by ivy and roses, she sat in her velvet chair, cradling a crystal glass filled with a crimson liquid that shimmered like rubies in the candlelight.
+|Born in Serbia on March 22, 1459, she entered the world as kingdoms fractured and the Ottoman tide surged forward. Fire devoured villages, and the air itself trembled with fear. Her family fled north beneath smoke-stained skies, clutching what little they could carry. Along the desperate road of exile, her father was lost to violence and chaos. His death carved a silence into her heart that would echo for centuries.
-Her long, black hair shimmered under the moon’s gentle caress. A wicked smile played on her deep red lips, her fangs gleaming faintly. Her eyes sparkled with memories from another life, long buried in the folds of time.
+Her mother, unyielding in her love, carried the children onward through forests and frozen passes until they reached a land steeped in legend and shadow. There, among towering mountains and whispered superstitions, grief and fate intertwined.
-She looked to the children gathered around her — not by blood, but by bond. Her voice, soft yet commanding, cut through the stillness.
+Drawn one twilight by something she could not name, she wandered into a rose-wrapped castle standing silent against the darkening sky. Its gates stood open, its halls cold and waiting. Inside, the night chose her.
-“Drink,” she said, raising her glass slightly. “Tonight will be long. I have a story to tell… One of blood, roses, and rebirth.”
+The transformation was torment and awakening woven together. Sunlight became agony upon her skin. Her pulse stilled. Hunger sharpened into an unrelenting thirst, and thirst became her law. Mortality ended — not gently, but completely. She rose into a new existence where shadows clung to her like a second skin and eternity stretched endlessly before her.
-Her eyes flickered with something ancient. “It has been more than five hundred years since I was reborn,” she whispered with a wistful smile. “Yes… reborn. Though I did not call it that at the time.”
+For centuries she roamed.
-“Serbia, 1459. March 22nd.” Her voice became a thread tying them to the past. “That was the day I was born — the only child to survive after many who did not.” She paused. “A miracle, they said. But miracles are often fleeting.”
+She walked through plague-stricken cities and across battlefields soaked in blood. She moved among courts of corruption and alleyways of despair. She fed upon the cruel, the wicked, and those the world had already abandoned, convincing herself she was nothing more than a monster shaped by tragedy and darkness. She distanced herself from attachment, from love, from anything that reminded her of the warmth she once knew.
-She traced the rim of her glass with delicate fingers, her eyes distant.
+She went away often — disappearing into distant lands, across oceans and empires, through revolutions and renaissances. Time reshaped the world around her again and again. Kingdoms fell. New powers rose. Technology changed the face of humanity. Yet through every age, she endured.
-“The Ottomans were advancing. My family fled north, toward the Romanian border. We lost my father on the way... and my mother, oh, she bore the weight of our survival alone. Strong, fierce, exhausted. Until one day… she met a soldier. A kind man who took us to his hometown — a place of shadows and myths. Transylvania.”
+With time came discipline.
-She laughed softly, almost bitterly.
+She learned control over her thirst, mastery over instinct. She chose carefully. She fed with purpose rather than impulse. The creature born of sorrow slowly transformed into something stronger — not ruled by hunger, but commanding it.
-“I thought our suffering had ended. But that land... it breathes legends. And some legends breathe back.”
+From the ashes of her human life and the centuries of wandering, she began to build something greater than survival. She gathered loyal souls — the broken, the fierce, the faithful — offering not merely immortality, but belonging. Those who stood beside her through betrayal and war, through doubt and rebirth, became more than followers. They became her chosen family.
-“They whispered of a man — a warlord who had died and returned. A predator of the night, feeding on the blood of the wicked. His victims left with twin marks upon their throats.”
+Bound by trust, devotion, and shared eternity, they forged an unbreakable covenant.
-She paused to sip her drink, her lips staining the rim dark red.
+Thus House Nightwish was born — not an empire of fear, but a sanctuary of strength. Together they weathered every storm, every shadow cast by time itself. Through every fall, she rose. Through every loss, she rebuilt.
 |}

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 |-
 |Delegate:
-|Not Assigned
+|Edge Velde
 |-
 |Liaison: