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| | !colspan="10"|ƁƖσσđ σf ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ | | !colspan="10"|ƁƖσσđ σf ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ |
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| − | |rowspan="4"|[[File:Reapers Of Nerull House1.png |200px|thumb|center| ]] | + | |rowspan="4"|[[File:ƁƖσσđ σf ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ1.png |200px|thumb|center| ]] |
| | |Princeps: | | |Princeps: |
| − | |Ϯ ɀαУℵ ℜєaρєя Ϯ (tamaskan214) | + | |Ϯ ØᴜϮℭαşт ΉƑ ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ Ϯ (x1outcast1x) |
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| | |Delegate: | | |Delegate: |
| − | |Tanis Darkfold | + | |Ϯ Ðԑsíгεε ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ Ϯ (bodywhisperer) |
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| | |Liaison: | | |Liaison: |
| − | |Not Assigned | + | |Aмєℓια ƁƖαςкωєƖƖ (clarissa.amulet) |
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| | |History: | | |History: |
| − | |The promise of a meal, for any vampire, is not always a certainty. The search for blood and sanctuary takes one to some of the most unlikely and unsavory places. Worse still, for those whom the blood of mortals alone does not sustain, they must hunt the blood of their own kind…the most dangerous game, other vampires. It is, by such a happenstance, that The Reapers came to be. A tattered pack of vampires…lost…betrayed…scavenging for whatever they could find, until…Nerull. | + | |TBA |
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| − | While on the hunt in the wee morning hours one night, our wayward pack of vampires happened across the scent of blood, too potent to be mortal. This scent drove the ravenous vampires into a frenzy! They had not fed in days, and food seemed scarce, so this was a meal they must have at any cost! They stalked their prey, tracking him to the outskirts of a long-forgotten graveyard, likely his haven. He seemed like he was injured, bleeding from a wound on his side, possibly from another vampire, or any other manner of creature which roams the night. His wound appeared to be healing…. but that wouldn’t matter soon.
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| − | Quietly they advanced on their prey, until the breeze shifted, and he caught wind of them! Using his unnatural speed to hasten his escape, he made his way deep into the catacombs of the graveyard. The hunters, not to be denied their meal, made swiftly after him, deep into the labyrinthian maze of tunnels, lined with skulls and the bleached bones of whatever godless creatures may have called this place home over the long centuries. They caught up to their prey, they found him, in what appeared to be some ancient shrine to some lost god. He was exhausted from the attempted escape and whatever conflict he had been in prior. He begged for his unlife…it fell on deaf ears.
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| − | The scuffle was brief, as the hungry pack fell upon their prey, fangs piercing immortal flesh. Their meal, in his death throes, using the last of his immortal strength to try and throw himself and his attackers around the room, in a vain attempt to save himself. He miscalculated, one of his attempts causing him to be thrown against the stone statue to whatever god this shrine was meant to praise. His head was severed at the neck by the stone scythe, the statue held. This was no normal stone! To cut the flesh of the immortals was no easy task, and this went through it as if it were nothing. Not realizing at first what had happened, our hungry pack slowly assessed the situation, as to their continuing amazement the stone scythe of the statue appeared to drink the very blood that was splattered upon it. Then, in the midst of their bewilderment, the statue’s eyes became alit with cold fire, chilling the pack to their very cores.
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| − | Slowly they watched as this centuries, perhaps millennia, old statue began to animate. It’s very robes becoming fluid with motion, it’s tone and texture all changing giving it the appearance of a living thing. Then, it’s lips unmoving, they all heard it’s voice in their heads. “Not the kind of summoning I normally receive, but the offering was indeed a special treat!” “It has been entirely too long since I have been offered the soul of an immortal!” The entity introduced himself as Nerull, god of Death, and together they spoke for some time. After which, Nerull offered…or rather commanded. ” You have summoned me to this new plane, and here I shall need followers to spread my name and supply me with a river of souls both mortal and immortal to strengthen my presence here until I am strong enough to manifest fully. You and yours shall be my whirlwind. Your black cowls will flutter through the night and cause even those with the iciest of blood a chill.” Raising his hand, cold fire leaping from his fingers and burning his symbol in the flesh of the vampires. “You are now touched by the flames of oblivion. Your Source has given you power, and now I have given you purpose.” “Go forth my Reapers….and show all that walk under the moon, why they should still fear the dark…
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