Post by Vladislav Zolnerowich on Oct 29, 2012 22:18:26 GMT -5
Player: Meggido
Contact: Note me :>
Intentions: Neutral tending towards Selfish Hero.
Background
Name: Vladislav Zolnerowich
Race: Variant Human
Species: Were-snake
Age: 21
Tier: 2
Social
Place of Birth: Central Ruthenia - Rasgrad
Allegiances: No loyalties at present time
Aspirations: Find his father and exact revenge.
Nicknames: Vlad
Titles: Scout, Guide.
Relatives: Dimitriev (Father,status unknown) , Anastrasia ( Mother, Deceased)
Significant Other: N/A
Mental
Personality: Slow to trust and quick to assume foul play, it can be very hard to get on his good side. Despite that, Vlad finds humor in most things, and will joke around even with those he can't trust, if only to ease his own tension at being around them. Loves to hear about others having a bad day, since it's his own way to remind him that the universe doesn't single him out to hurt.
Likes: Archery, citrus fruits, toying with 'prey'
Dislikes: Ruthenian government, unsolicited help, friends 'throwing their lives away for a stupid ideal'. Long haired brunettes who wear glasses.
Strengths: is usually very focused in his actions, extremely loyal once his trust has been earned. Trained by an experienced woods-woman since his youth and forced to fend on his own for many years afterwards, he's just at home in the trees and brush of the dark forests than he is in a cottage or building, if not more.
Weaknesses: Can shove other matters to the side easily if pursuing his vendetta, Jealously possessive of the few friends he manages to trust, has a pronounced sadist streak, Intense paranoia. Scared of Thunder.
Physical
Major Details:Has a forked tongue, fang like teeth, a tattoo looking scale pattern on his lower back and amber eyes that aren't quite circular as part of his heritage as a were-snake. Dark brown, short hair decorates his features. Five feet ten inches in height and with a lean, muscular body from working in the wild. His right side and shins have tattoos of intricate runes on them, laid by his mother when he was a baby.
Appearance: Prefers to wear a long sleeved black shirt under a brown leather vest along with easy to move in pants, makes sure to keep his arms covered at all times unless he's in a 'safe' area. Wears black boots. Often has a beige haversack with supplies.
Natural Abilities: Years of running through the Taiga as a guide for groups attempting to pass through as well as self training for his vendetta, have left him with a fit, agile body who's speed is only further enhanced by his mother's written magic. He also possesses eyes as sharp as any eagle and can smell taste the air rather well with his tongue, a skill that is enhanced greatly by his were form.
Natural Traits: As a tier 2 were-snake he has the ability to shift into a stronger, faster, more reptilian form of himself, though in this form he loses access to his magic, and during a full moon he struggles with keeping control. In this shape his teeth become much more pronounced fangs, jade green scales cover his body and a long, elegant tail sprouts from the base of his spine.
Strengths: Has incredible eyesight and reflexes, allowing him to use his bow and arrows to their maximum effect in close combat or at range. When pressed he will use his ability to conjure magic strings from his hands to throw just about any nearby object at his attacker, as well as be even more mobile.
Weaknesses: Isn't particularly physically strong, and has a hard time fighting unarmed if there aren't a multitude of light objects strewn about. Has a tendency to toy with his opponents, and as such can easily lose combat he should win.
Magical
Specializations:
- Tier 1 & 2: Strings ( Physical ) Proficiency 3 : Able to summon strands of magical energy from his hands. Their uses range from grabbing and throwing light objects to entangling his foes to pulling himself to safety or creating a wall like net to protect himself. While he can detach a string from himself, if he stops concentrating on it the filament will disappear. Similarly, the amount he can create at one time hinges on a combination of focus and physical well being.
Visual Display: Lines of power, almost like electrical conduits, glow along his forearms and down his legs whenever he uses his powers. The string themselves are very thin and black, but shimmer for a few seconds after being created.
Special Abilities: Enhanced senses (Vision), Enhanced Recovery 1, Enhanced Speed 1
Bonus Special Abilities: Enhanced recovery 2, vulnerability to fire, Enhanced speed 2
Were form bonus abilities: Enhanced senses( taste ), Enhanced strength 1
Unique Abilities: -
Strengths: With the help of his strings and a few explosives, Vladislav can set up quite the bevy of traps around his opponent, even during combat. They are also effective at attacking from multiple directions at once, as well as getting him to safety when used in conjunction with his higher reflexes and acrobatic agility. When he uses them in enclosed area like the taiga he almost appears to be flying. Additionally, Vlad can weave these strings into nets to catch and immobilize attacks or enemies.
Weaknesses: Unfortunately, displays of extreme dexterity with his strings are still well beyond Vlad. While his father could individually tie down every hair on a man's head with one string each, the young were snake needs to use multiple strands in order to make one knot if he wants to hold something. As for movement, traps, defenses, etc, the greater the amount of things he concentrates on, the easier it is for a string or three to slip from his focus and disappear.
Inventory
Mundane: A dark brown haversack containing maps, rations, an extra set of clothing, some flint and tender, whatever else he migth put his mitts on.
Magical:
Bow - Written ( Activated) - The oaken bow is covered in runes that confer it the ability to have it's arrows fly true towards it's victim's neck by whispering a thankful prayer to the upcoming bounty of the hunt. The arrow must remain notched for ten seconds, and only the first arrow shot gains this boon.
Boots - Material (Perpetual) - Made from the skin of a giant spider creature, these boots allow the user to take up to four steps along any surface as if they were walking along the wall. The wearer must be on stable footing for a few seconds before their charm returns.
History
Born to the happy union of a military man and a forest guide, Vlad's childhood was, for a time, perfect. He spent days learning about the glorious history of Ruthenia and learning his father's personal brand of magic. Or at least, learning the theory. Every time he saw his father use his strings to incapacitate a robber in the city or even just as a demonstration of skill to entertain his only son, Vladislav spent the following hours begging his dad to teach him how to start using his own strings. "Relax, Vladislav. The hardest test in life is the patience to wait for the right moment." This, of course, did very little to dissuade the young man, who only stopped his pleading when it was time to follow his mother outside of the city to learn more things.
She taught him all about herbs and berries, which were safe and weren't, the best ways to hunt and trap any animal, and what she stressed most of all, how to survive without drawing attention. "You're the intruder whenever you go into the forest, Vladislav. The animals, the plants, they all want you out of their home... so you have to make sure not to bother them more than you have to, and go unnoticed." The little trips usually lasted about a week and happened every month, like clockwork. The young amber eyed man couldn't even remember of a time when his life was any different.
The only time there was any variance in Vlad's life was when his mother took him on a trip at the age of six. It was a long trip, and the young man was sure they'd walked for days on end before they reached the borders of a forest that wasn't just dark and foreboding, but -clearly- didn't want them inside. His mother had chuckled and kissed his forehead before leading him inside, the young boy certain the trees were closing in behind them. Their path had taken them to a large clearing with a circle of stones in the ground and a pair of men who looked so pale in the moonlit grove Vlad thought them to be spirits. He hid behind his mother's leg as she exchanged words of greeting, glaring at the one with the black hair when he hugged his mother.
This only earned laughter from the pair of nearly identical, pointy eared men as they began to draw glowing shapes in the air around the large formation of rocks. Telling Vlad to go lay down in the middle of it, Anastrasia observed the ritual slowly take form. "Are you certain this is going to work?" She asked, earning her a scoff from the fair skinned mages.
"Worry not, m'lady, our magic will hold.
Your spells will be strengthened, and just as you were told,
His pain you will take upon yourself, and spare him the agony,
while you carve out your words to protect his wee feeble body."
Vlad wanted to keep listening, wanted to know just what was going on, but the ringing of bells in his ears, so soothing, dragged him off to sleep before long. By the time he'd woken up, he was cradled in his mother's arms, one of the fair skinned friends sitting besides him, the other no where to be seen. "Momma?" He asked, raising a hand to try and wake up her, but long, skinny fingers closed around his wrist, the fae smiling softly.
"She's just endured the pain of the words she wrote for thee,
two hundred, two hundred, and five hundred ninety three.
Give her just a few hours to have her rest,
I'll keep you both safe, till she's back at her best."
Cuddling closer against his sleeping mother's bosom, the young Vladislav couldn't help but notice the itching on both of his legs... and even worse, on his right side. He almost screamed in shock when he looked down and saw an intricate tattoo covering over his hip and rib cage, so many runes and words, so many symbols he couldn't even begin to count them all.
A few hours later they were escorted out of the suffocating woods and resumed their trek on back home, Vlad noticing another pair of new tattoos, these ones on his shins. They weren't nearly as complicated as the one on his side, but they were pretty complex still. "Momma, did you do these with your word magic?" he asked, earning him a smile from the black haired beauty. "Mommy just wants to make sure you're safe, pumpkin. Now you know I'll always be watching over you, even if I'm not nearby." Vlad just nodded at the explanation and beamed, asking questions about the animals they saw on their way that didn't look like any back home.
While Vlad had accepted his mother's answer with ease, his father didn't seem to be able to do the same quite as easily. They didn't outright fight, but Vlad could tell during the following days' lessons with his father that the man was making a concerted effort not to look at his new decorations. The tension was high for several weeks as life slowly returned to the same sequence of learning about laws and magic with his father during the day, and on the last week the month going on a little trip with his mother to learn about the forests and the plains.
This time, however, all Vlad remembered was a strange fever, and dizziness. Had he fallen unconscious? He must have, Mommy was carrying him, and they were already on their way to the house. "Ng... M-mommy? was I sick?" he asked her, more than a little worried he couldn't even remember passing out. His small hand reached up and touched at a small set of scratches on her cheek when she looked down and smiled. "Just a little. It's perfectly normal, son. Now Vladislav, promise me you won't tell your dad, all right? He... he'd worry, you know how he's already against my bringing you out with me. So it'll be our little secret. Promise?"
"Promise."
The following weeks and months followed a similar rhythm. The young Vlad's magic had begun to bear fruit and he could actually practice it, growing with astonishing speed. Whenever he advanced particularly quickly, however, the young man would catch his father look at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. He never really understood, and tried instead to learn faster, to improve more quickly so the serious man would praise him.
After the magical practice there came the nightly run through the plains and woods with his mother, trying to beat his previous record through whatever obstacle course she'd set up. And of course, at the end of each month he followed his mother on her hunt for herbs on a longer trip. Now, however, she also taught him how to use the skills he'd learned from his father in order to fight and hunt. "But, dad said I needed a firm grasp of the basics before I start..." he had protested the first time, although he had to admit, he'd been itching to do more than simply test out how many strings he could summon at once, and how many shapes he could make in the air with them.
She shushed him, smiling sweetly. "Then it'll be our little secret... Besides, what's the purpose of learning magic if you don't know how to -use- it?" So they trained, and although each monthly session ended with him feeling dizzy, hot and passing out, his mother assured him he was making a lot of progress, and that it was just because his body wasn't used to the amount of strength he could release.
He grew rapidly over the years, but it was never fast enough to change that disappointed look on his father's face whenever the man thought Vladislav wasn't looking. There was a lot more arguing in the house as well, and though they did their best to hide it from him, the young man was certain that Dimitriev and Anastrasia's spats were completely about him. The status quo continued until he hit puberty, where, if he hadn't blossomed so early, he would have begun his real training. And then peaceful life ended for Vladislav. It was all going so well, just a day like any other, too. It had even been the first time that he hadn't passed out while doing his monthly training with his mother, and now, on the day following his return, he was studying happily instead of feeling sick and needing bed rest.
"I still can't believe you'd go so far as to do this to him..."
"You're the one who's taking it slow, dear. The world isn't going to wait for him to grow up and learn on his own, not with the current war."
"You've never approved of the Ruthenian government, why are you so eager to make him into a soldier?"
"Maybe I'm just assuming they'll make the decision for him, and I'd rather he survive to come back to me."
Although he was sure they'd both be angry if they caught him spying, Vladislav couldn't help but 'put into practice' what his mother had shown him that morning. Sounds are just vibrations, and strings can carry vibrations really far... Which meant the solitary strand sitting in the hallway and going up the stairs, into his study room and against his ear was enough to pick up their conversation, it's magical properties carrying the sound much clearer than any mundane string.
"And if you want to be a part of this conversation, young man, come sit in the room with us."
The amber eyed youth winced when he heard his father's words, the man's tone not exactly happy. He hastily made his way downstairs, eyes downcast as he entered the kitchen, his mother trying not to laugh. "I presume this is another 'useful skill' your mother taught you? And I guess it was interesting enough to forget what I just told you yesterday about Magic pressure and feeling it in the air?"
"Oh Dear, don't be like that... I seem to recall you doing a lot more peeping than that when we were young, and getting caught quite a few times to boot. At least he's not trying to listen in on girls taking their baths."
The usually stern man's face looked so uncomfortable even Vladislav couldn't repress a chuckle when he loudly declared the conversation was done and called for them all to sit down at the table. "The soup's just about done, and I'm sure we can find much more interesting things to talk about than the foolish mistakes of a curious teenager."
No sooner had they sat down, however, did the peaceful night sky of their quaint villa on the hill get illuminated by various spotlights, the sound of numerous vehicles stopping in front of their quaint villa. The banging on the door made Vlad jump, and he looked at his father, shocked, when he heard the officer's voice. "By order of the Ruthenian government, open up! If you do not, you will be accused of aiding and hiding a criminal were-beast and terrorist!"
"Dad? What are they talking about? For god's sake, you're an Officer!"
Dimitriev raised his hand to stop any further questions, and rose from the table. "I'll go sort this out. You two stay here." He told them, taking a deep breath before opening the door and demanding to see the warrant and whatever information had led them to believe that he, an upstanding member of society and high ranking official of the police force, would ever do something as disgusting as hide a filthy were-beast in his home, and a criminal one at that.
"Honey? I want you to listen to Mommy now, and don't ask any questions." Anastrasia whispered, nervously tapping her knife against the table. She continued before Vlad could even answer. "It's going to get very loud and a bit hectic quite soon, and when that happens I want you to go up to your room, go out your window, and go to those woods we went to when you were younger. You remember the ones, right? The night I gave you your tattoos?"
"Well, yeah I do, but why.."
"No questions, dear. This is going to be very confusing, and I'm sorry, but I need you to go to that circle of stones and say the words 'the skin has been shed'. In fact, go up. Right now."
It was the most serious he'd ever heard her, and the young man didn't dare disobey, not with the cold look she gave him when he hesitated. The boy just managed to get upstairs before he heard the footsteps of his father and the other officers. He was livid. His face was red with anger, and he seemed to be holding up a page or something, but from his position up at the top of the stairs, Vladislav couldn't see. He could, however, hear their exchange.
"What is the meaning of this, Anastrasia? How could you ... Betray me like this!?" He demanded, tears brimming in his eyes. Vlad couldn't be sure if it was sadness, anger, or something else that was making his usually calm father so emotional, but he was even more shocked when the other men around him brandished rifles at his mother. "Look out Sir! It's her! Men, you have your orders, subdue the beast!"
The bullets flew, the sounds deafening in the small villa, but the only thing they hit was the table that had been thrown at the officers, the one that had at least a third of it covered in hastily scrawled marks. Dimitriev jumped out of the way as it landed on three of the invaders and immediately collapsed into a thick, green ooze that just melted through their armor and flesh. "Stop it! Don't make me do this...!" Vlad's father demanded angrily, even as the boy saw the shapes his mother created in thin air with her own strings, each one taking less than a second and throwing something else at the wave of invaders that had begun pouring into the house once the first few had cried out in pain. Fire, Lightning, acid, it was pure chaos as the soldiers tried to get into a position to shoot.
Vladislav had had enough. This was obviously a nightmare of some kind, something he'd wake up from shortly... but just in case, he ran into his room, and was just about to leave when he heard his mother's strangled cry. Immediately he turned around and rushed to the top of the stairs again, seeing his mother suspended in the air, bleeding from all over as his father's strings held her so tightly they cut into her skin. Her wrists, her legs, her neck, everything was bound, the woman suspended like the worst criminals in her husband's magic.
The youth was stunned. Never would he have ever believed that this was happening. Surely it was a mistake, right? There's no way his mother had anything to do with helping a terrorist... and even if she did, it didn't make any sense that his father would hurt her? He'd side with her, Right? Vlad could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks when the man asked his long time wife why she'd lied to him, and explained that her resistance wasn't going to help anyone. She just grinned, and whispered a word that Vladislav heard from all the way up the stairs.
"Surprise."
The world went white as the large gathering of letters and symbols she'd scratched into the floor during the fight ignited, a large explosion that knocked Vlad back into his room. The world was on fire, the heat and force pressing down against his suffocating him, crushing him... Vlad didn't even realize he was falling until he blinked and saw the ground for just a fraction of a second before everything became darkness.
The boy coughed when he awoke, the taste of blood making him sick as his blurry vision slowly focussed. He'd been knocked clear out of the house, but that had probably saved him. The entire estate was just gone, nothing left but a crumpled mass of charred wood and stone. When he picked himself up and dragged himself towards the wreckage, the young man couldn't help but think about how glad he was they didn't leave in the city proper. He was not in the mood for onlookers. And though he had a bad feeling when as he neared what was left of his home, he couldn't help it. He just had to peer over the wall of ash colored wood, just had to see what was left.
He saw his father, more well off than anyone else. His clothes had been singed, and there were a few burns on his skin, but he didn't look too worse for wear. None of the officers had made it, their bodies burned by the blast or crushed by the following collapse of the villa on top of them. His mother was still alive, but it looked like several of her bones had been broken.
"Why didn't you... why would you do this to me, you monster?" Dimitriev asked her, tears in his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. "Is this why you always pushed me to speed up his training? Is he another... abomination like you?" he accused, earning a blood filled chuckle from his wife. The beautiful woman smiled sweetly as the crimson trailed from her lips.
"I had to make sure he could control himself before the changes came naturally... Had to ensure he could fight on his own before you noticed his changes, or before he started to change on his own... made it just in time... but it's funny, I always thought I'd have another year or three at this whole family business..."
Vladislav's eyes grew wide when he saw his father's single strand wrap around the delicate neck, his breath caught in his throat as begged god not to let this happen. This couldn't... there was no way he'd...
"Why couldn't you be more careful?"
*snap*
The young man felt all thoughts leave him at that moment, feeling anger, betrayal, rage... He was angry at them both, for leaving him alone like this. Because he was alone now , he knew. He couldn't return to his father, not after this. And yet... He was angry at both, but it was all directed to the only on left. He would have tried to kill him. Would have jumped over the wreckage and ran straight at his grieving father to break every bone in his body, no matter how foolish the act... but the pain in his heart became more than emotional.
An intense burning sensation wracked through his entire being, like a part of him was dying and trying to take the rest of him with it. He fell to his knees, panting, thoughts of revenge on the father he'd known all his left driven out by the incredible pain, almost as if his -soul- were burning. Whether Dimitriev was too distracted to hear him, or if he had and had decided to leave him be, Vladislav still didn't know to this day. But the fact remained that as he cried out and clawed at his chest to try and stop the burning, no one came to see.
No one came to see the boy who's hands were desperately clawing at his entire body, who was literally ripping away layers of skin like so much tissue paper. No one saw the convulsing body of the human like beast as it felt the pain in it's soul, saw the amber eyes shrink into slits as the beast hissed as more and more emerald coloured scales were exposed. No one saw it stumble and drag it's way into the forest, where it stayed until it calmed down.
It took all night for Vladislav to stop feeling as if he were going to die, and it took him another several hours to reconcile with the fact that the green scaled hands he nervously patted his bigger, stronger body with were indeed his own. It was him. It was all his fault. Somehow, he had become an abomination, a monster... and his mother had known. Was that why she had brought him away every month? Did it have something to do with why he had always passed out during their training? With why they were already on their way back home whenever he woke up? Every question made him lash out angrily at the trees around him, the youth clawing, kicking, doing as much as he could just to get all of these horrible feelings out there instead of in his heart, eventually falling to his knees, tired. His frustrated and ineffective beatings on the various trees only angered him. How was he supposed to take his anger out on and break things when the trees were were so damned solid?
Well, it as more than a little irresponsible, but Vlad was far past thinking anything of the sort as he lifted his hands, motioning for his strings to lift all the heavy rocks around him, deciding to just pelt heavy things at the thickest tree he could find until he tore through it. His anger peaked when not a single strand was materialized. He couldn't concentrate on their shape, the form just kept slipping away. He could see every blade of grass near him, could taste in the air the scent of every creature in the area, but he couldn't even concentrate on one measly string.
So he opted to do it the old fashion way. He picked up a fist sized rock and threw himself at the tree, slamming into it's bark with his new weapon. "Why did you kill her!? Why couldn't you save her?!? You were supposed to protect her..." He wailed as he struck the tree again and again, picturing his father's face quite clearly even if he couldn't concentrate enough to draw out his magic. It took a while before he was too tired to continue, kneeling against the tree and feeling tears run down his cheeks as he finally dropped the rock and just tried to make sense of his world now that it had been flipped ,turned upside down.
As he thought, the young man noticed that all of his wounds had already healed, and as he pondered more on it, as his boiling anger converted into a cold hatred, he began to shed the green skin. It took him a while to tear all of it off, but once he had, he was back in his own body, and calm enough to swear vengeance. Why couldn't his father have stopped the officers from coming inside the house? He'd had the authority... and if he hadn't confronted his mother... if he hadn't fought her... if he had only just... it was all his fault. And Vlad would make him pay for it. But first, he needed to pay his respects to his mother. He had to accomplish the last task she'd given him.
It took Vlad nearly a month's time to return to the dark and foreboding woods, mostly since he avoided any contact with anyone else. Who knew if there was a warrant for his arrest? And even if there weren't, there surely would be once news of what happened spread through the region. He couldn't trust anyone but himself, and so he made his way carefully, under the cover of night, from one safe patch of woods to the next until he was at his destination. He travelled at night, spending the day sleeping and practising with his magic, alarmed to learn that he'd lost almost everything. Even without the horrible sensation of being unable to think under so much primal instinct as when he'd turned green, he still felt worse than the first time he'd summoned his strings, and they didn't listen to his finger's movements nearly as well as they should have. The amount he could summon had dropped drastically, as well.
He didn't understand, but he simply decided not to wonder about it then, making his way through the ominous pressure of the woods and finding the stone circle, whispering the words his mother had asked him to. He hadn't been expecting anything, really. Hadn't really thought anything would happen, but the second the last syllable left his lips, he saw the rocks glow a deep crimson color, the world around him growing bright enough that he had to shield his eyes, only able to open them several moments later. Where he could see quite a host of people, from wolfmen to fae to humans to magical beings like sphinxes, all staring at him and tense. Not a one of them seemed to know why he was there any more than he did, and it looked like maybe they saw him as a threat, but a single voice called out and diffused the tension in the room.
"Vladislav Zolnerowich. I was wondering when you'd arrive. I'm sorry for your loss, dear. I truly am..."
It was an old woman, who's smile unnerved Vladislav almost as much as anything else in this situation. Despite the blindfold she wore, it was like she could see everything about him. "What do you mean 'recruit', grandma? I'm only here cause my mom..." He felt the tears again, but refused to let them fall, instead glaring at the aged elder before him. "Where is -here- anyway?" he added, spotting a pair of familiar faces amongst the curious onlookers. The old crone didn't answer him immediately, apparently looking him over completely before cracking a smile.
"Where you need to be. Where you'll be safe. But now isn't the time for questions. You've been through a lot. Rest a while, have a meal, and then we can speak about what you want to do in the future. If you need anything, just ask for Madame Third Awning, and I'll see what I can do to help." was all she told him. He was glad that everyone else had stopped looking at him, returning to their own going ons, but the fact that she knew his name like that, and seemed to have been expecting him... She was a creepy one all right.
Unsure of himself, Vlad moved nervously towards a pair of nearly identical, familiar looking faces. "Uhm... Hi. I remember you... you were friends of my mom, right?" he asked them , the pair nodding as they stood. "That we were, young one. Friends and allies of the fairest around. Names're Reekun an' Keegun', wordsmiths of renoun." they sing songed, offering to lead Vlad back to their corner of the underground base and see if they could get him some warm clothing to replace the burnt and tattered rags he wore.
"Here you go, Lad, a gift from ye mum.
She enchanted it herself, made it quite fearsome."
Vladislav couldn't hold the sobs back when they let him hold the finely crafted weapon, the bow's wood feeling warm under his fingers as he moved his hands over each groove, each word lovingly carved into it by his mother. Everything about it felt just -right- so much so that he couldn't bear part with the weapon for any amount of time for at least a month after he'd received it. His talk about the future with Madame Third Awning eventually boiled down to the fact that he wasn't quite ready to control his powers, his shifting, or to ply his skills at a trade in the outside world just yet. She suggested he stay with the resistance for now, for his safety. He stayed close to the twins for the next three years, gradually improving his magic under their watchful tutelage and honing his skills in mock battles against them. He wanted to join the resistance. He wanted to kill his father and everyone who'd caused his mother's murder... but no matter how many times he asked, no matter how much he trained and improved, the Madame kept telling him it was much too early for him.
He earned his keep by helping out here and there, carrying boxes and tending to gardens and such , though he never quite opened up to anyone. Even the twins, though a good source of knowledge and encouragement, he couldn't bring himself to relax with. Seeing his own father kill his mother... and they'd been deeply in love for years, he just knew that wasn't an act... how was he supposed to trust anyone when even that deep bond hadn't meant anything? At least he had two friends, strict as they could be when they weren't being playful.
It was late at night one day when the young teen rose from his bed, panting and covered in a cold sweat. He'd relived the death of his mother an untold amount of times, and knew from experience he wouldn't be sleeping any more that evening. He strolled from his room towards where he knew the twins often had a late night ale, wondering if either of them knew a good story to distract him from his own thoughts. He found them both up, but wasn't quite expecting the words he heard when he did. The tore at the curtain of trust he'd managed to build up around his heart.
"How much longer must we care for the babe, his mother's long gone and her gold's running dry."
"Until is gone everything paid, we're to care for him, you know as well as I.
"I still think she's crazy, that witch. Pacting her infant son to turn him into a weapon."
"It was working too, from what I hear, till she got herself into a coffin."
Vlad felt sick to his stomach, stumbling outside to get some air. Almost without thinking he found himself at the site of the teleport ring to the surface, looking at it nervously. He couldn't stay here any more, not with people who'd been lying to him, who only saw him as a coin purse to drain. Just as he was putting his hand to the stone, however, gnarled and thin fingers closed around him wrist.
"You'll be needing these." Madame third Awning told him, offering him a travelling pack and his bow, a knowing smile on her face. Vlad didn't know if he was more scared that she had managed to sneak up on him, or that she'd known already he was leaving.
"You're not mad that I'm leaving?"
"Not at all. You aren't ready yet."
"Uhm...Thanks."
Once he'd left, it took a few years before Vlad was in any way comfortable around anyone else. Especially humans, knowing how much most of them hated any non humans. Over the years his body had taken on more of a beastial look, his tongue splitting at the end and his eyes becoming more snake like, but with a good amount of care the young man was able to get used to hide so that his tongue tip wasn't ever showing.
Now, several years later, the young adult has spent most of his time acting as guide for anyone needing to traverse the taiga, living off of the land and otherwise scouting the movements of the Ruthenian forces wherever he could spot them. He knew his father used to be sent all over the country's borders to apprehend particularly dangerous criminals, and knowing that there was a resistance outpost nearby, Vlad was certain it would eventually get found out, and they'd send his father. Until the day came, however, the youth had to prepare himself.
If he wanted to kill Dimitriev Zolnerowich, he'd need to be strong.
To be continued~
Contact: Note me :>
Intentions: Neutral tending towards Selfish Hero.
Background
Name: Vladislav Zolnerowich
Race: Variant Human
Species: Were-snake
Age: 21
Tier: 2
Social
Place of Birth: Central Ruthenia - Rasgrad
Allegiances: No loyalties at present time
Aspirations: Find his father and exact revenge.
Nicknames: Vlad
Titles: Scout, Guide.
Relatives: Dimitriev (Father,status unknown) , Anastrasia ( Mother, Deceased)
Significant Other: N/A
Mental
Personality: Slow to trust and quick to assume foul play, it can be very hard to get on his good side. Despite that, Vlad finds humor in most things, and will joke around even with those he can't trust, if only to ease his own tension at being around them. Loves to hear about others having a bad day, since it's his own way to remind him that the universe doesn't single him out to hurt.
Likes: Archery, citrus fruits, toying with 'prey'
Dislikes: Ruthenian government, unsolicited help, friends 'throwing their lives away for a stupid ideal'. Long haired brunettes who wear glasses.
Strengths: is usually very focused in his actions, extremely loyal once his trust has been earned. Trained by an experienced woods-woman since his youth and forced to fend on his own for many years afterwards, he's just at home in the trees and brush of the dark forests than he is in a cottage or building, if not more.
Weaknesses: Can shove other matters to the side easily if pursuing his vendetta, Jealously possessive of the few friends he manages to trust, has a pronounced sadist streak, Intense paranoia. Scared of Thunder.
Physical
Major Details:Has a forked tongue, fang like teeth, a tattoo looking scale pattern on his lower back and amber eyes that aren't quite circular as part of his heritage as a were-snake. Dark brown, short hair decorates his features. Five feet ten inches in height and with a lean, muscular body from working in the wild. His right side and shins have tattoos of intricate runes on them, laid by his mother when he was a baby.
Appearance: Prefers to wear a long sleeved black shirt under a brown leather vest along with easy to move in pants, makes sure to keep his arms covered at all times unless he's in a 'safe' area. Wears black boots. Often has a beige haversack with supplies.
Natural Abilities: Years of running through the Taiga as a guide for groups attempting to pass through as well as self training for his vendetta, have left him with a fit, agile body who's speed is only further enhanced by his mother's written magic. He also possesses eyes as sharp as any eagle and can smell taste the air rather well with his tongue, a skill that is enhanced greatly by his were form.
Natural Traits: As a tier 2 were-snake he has the ability to shift into a stronger, faster, more reptilian form of himself, though in this form he loses access to his magic, and during a full moon he struggles with keeping control. In this shape his teeth become much more pronounced fangs, jade green scales cover his body and a long, elegant tail sprouts from the base of his spine.
Strengths: Has incredible eyesight and reflexes, allowing him to use his bow and arrows to their maximum effect in close combat or at range. When pressed he will use his ability to conjure magic strings from his hands to throw just about any nearby object at his attacker, as well as be even more mobile.
Weaknesses: Isn't particularly physically strong, and has a hard time fighting unarmed if there aren't a multitude of light objects strewn about. Has a tendency to toy with his opponents, and as such can easily lose combat he should win.
Magical
Specializations:
- Tier 1 & 2: Strings ( Physical ) Proficiency 3 : Able to summon strands of magical energy from his hands. Their uses range from grabbing and throwing light objects to entangling his foes to pulling himself to safety or creating a wall like net to protect himself. While he can detach a string from himself, if he stops concentrating on it the filament will disappear. Similarly, the amount he can create at one time hinges on a combination of focus and physical well being.
Visual Display: Lines of power, almost like electrical conduits, glow along his forearms and down his legs whenever he uses his powers. The string themselves are very thin and black, but shimmer for a few seconds after being created.
Special Abilities: Enhanced senses (Vision), Enhanced Recovery 1, Enhanced Speed 1
Bonus Special Abilities: Enhanced recovery 2, vulnerability to fire, Enhanced speed 2
Were form bonus abilities: Enhanced senses( taste ), Enhanced strength 1
Unique Abilities: -
Strengths: With the help of his strings and a few explosives, Vladislav can set up quite the bevy of traps around his opponent, even during combat. They are also effective at attacking from multiple directions at once, as well as getting him to safety when used in conjunction with his higher reflexes and acrobatic agility. When he uses them in enclosed area like the taiga he almost appears to be flying. Additionally, Vlad can weave these strings into nets to catch and immobilize attacks or enemies.
Weaknesses: Unfortunately, displays of extreme dexterity with his strings are still well beyond Vlad. While his father could individually tie down every hair on a man's head with one string each, the young were snake needs to use multiple strands in order to make one knot if he wants to hold something. As for movement, traps, defenses, etc, the greater the amount of things he concentrates on, the easier it is for a string or three to slip from his focus and disappear.
Inventory
Mundane: A dark brown haversack containing maps, rations, an extra set of clothing, some flint and tender, whatever else he migth put his mitts on.
Magical:
Bow - Written ( Activated) - The oaken bow is covered in runes that confer it the ability to have it's arrows fly true towards it's victim's neck by whispering a thankful prayer to the upcoming bounty of the hunt. The arrow must remain notched for ten seconds, and only the first arrow shot gains this boon.
Boots - Material (Perpetual) - Made from the skin of a giant spider creature, these boots allow the user to take up to four steps along any surface as if they were walking along the wall. The wearer must be on stable footing for a few seconds before their charm returns.
History
Born to the happy union of a military man and a forest guide, Vlad's childhood was, for a time, perfect. He spent days learning about the glorious history of Ruthenia and learning his father's personal brand of magic. Or at least, learning the theory. Every time he saw his father use his strings to incapacitate a robber in the city or even just as a demonstration of skill to entertain his only son, Vladislav spent the following hours begging his dad to teach him how to start using his own strings. "Relax, Vladislav. The hardest test in life is the patience to wait for the right moment." This, of course, did very little to dissuade the young man, who only stopped his pleading when it was time to follow his mother outside of the city to learn more things.
She taught him all about herbs and berries, which were safe and weren't, the best ways to hunt and trap any animal, and what she stressed most of all, how to survive without drawing attention. "You're the intruder whenever you go into the forest, Vladislav. The animals, the plants, they all want you out of their home... so you have to make sure not to bother them more than you have to, and go unnoticed." The little trips usually lasted about a week and happened every month, like clockwork. The young amber eyed man couldn't even remember of a time when his life was any different.
The only time there was any variance in Vlad's life was when his mother took him on a trip at the age of six. It was a long trip, and the young man was sure they'd walked for days on end before they reached the borders of a forest that wasn't just dark and foreboding, but -clearly- didn't want them inside. His mother had chuckled and kissed his forehead before leading him inside, the young boy certain the trees were closing in behind them. Their path had taken them to a large clearing with a circle of stones in the ground and a pair of men who looked so pale in the moonlit grove Vlad thought them to be spirits. He hid behind his mother's leg as she exchanged words of greeting, glaring at the one with the black hair when he hugged his mother.
This only earned laughter from the pair of nearly identical, pointy eared men as they began to draw glowing shapes in the air around the large formation of rocks. Telling Vlad to go lay down in the middle of it, Anastrasia observed the ritual slowly take form. "Are you certain this is going to work?" She asked, earning her a scoff from the fair skinned mages.
"Worry not, m'lady, our magic will hold.
Your spells will be strengthened, and just as you were told,
His pain you will take upon yourself, and spare him the agony,
while you carve out your words to protect his wee feeble body."
Vlad wanted to keep listening, wanted to know just what was going on, but the ringing of bells in his ears, so soothing, dragged him off to sleep before long. By the time he'd woken up, he was cradled in his mother's arms, one of the fair skinned friends sitting besides him, the other no where to be seen. "Momma?" He asked, raising a hand to try and wake up her, but long, skinny fingers closed around his wrist, the fae smiling softly.
"She's just endured the pain of the words she wrote for thee,
two hundred, two hundred, and five hundred ninety three.
Give her just a few hours to have her rest,
I'll keep you both safe, till she's back at her best."
Cuddling closer against his sleeping mother's bosom, the young Vladislav couldn't help but notice the itching on both of his legs... and even worse, on his right side. He almost screamed in shock when he looked down and saw an intricate tattoo covering over his hip and rib cage, so many runes and words, so many symbols he couldn't even begin to count them all.
A few hours later they were escorted out of the suffocating woods and resumed their trek on back home, Vlad noticing another pair of new tattoos, these ones on his shins. They weren't nearly as complicated as the one on his side, but they were pretty complex still. "Momma, did you do these with your word magic?" he asked, earning him a smile from the black haired beauty. "Mommy just wants to make sure you're safe, pumpkin. Now you know I'll always be watching over you, even if I'm not nearby." Vlad just nodded at the explanation and beamed, asking questions about the animals they saw on their way that didn't look like any back home.
While Vlad had accepted his mother's answer with ease, his father didn't seem to be able to do the same quite as easily. They didn't outright fight, but Vlad could tell during the following days' lessons with his father that the man was making a concerted effort not to look at his new decorations. The tension was high for several weeks as life slowly returned to the same sequence of learning about laws and magic with his father during the day, and on the last week the month going on a little trip with his mother to learn about the forests and the plains.
This time, however, all Vlad remembered was a strange fever, and dizziness. Had he fallen unconscious? He must have, Mommy was carrying him, and they were already on their way to the house. "Ng... M-mommy? was I sick?" he asked her, more than a little worried he couldn't even remember passing out. His small hand reached up and touched at a small set of scratches on her cheek when she looked down and smiled. "Just a little. It's perfectly normal, son. Now Vladislav, promise me you won't tell your dad, all right? He... he'd worry, you know how he's already against my bringing you out with me. So it'll be our little secret. Promise?"
"Promise."
The following weeks and months followed a similar rhythm. The young Vlad's magic had begun to bear fruit and he could actually practice it, growing with astonishing speed. Whenever he advanced particularly quickly, however, the young man would catch his father look at him with a mixture of anger and sadness. He never really understood, and tried instead to learn faster, to improve more quickly so the serious man would praise him.
After the magical practice there came the nightly run through the plains and woods with his mother, trying to beat his previous record through whatever obstacle course she'd set up. And of course, at the end of each month he followed his mother on her hunt for herbs on a longer trip. Now, however, she also taught him how to use the skills he'd learned from his father in order to fight and hunt. "But, dad said I needed a firm grasp of the basics before I start..." he had protested the first time, although he had to admit, he'd been itching to do more than simply test out how many strings he could summon at once, and how many shapes he could make in the air with them.
She shushed him, smiling sweetly. "Then it'll be our little secret... Besides, what's the purpose of learning magic if you don't know how to -use- it?" So they trained, and although each monthly session ended with him feeling dizzy, hot and passing out, his mother assured him he was making a lot of progress, and that it was just because his body wasn't used to the amount of strength he could release.
He grew rapidly over the years, but it was never fast enough to change that disappointed look on his father's face whenever the man thought Vladislav wasn't looking. There was a lot more arguing in the house as well, and though they did their best to hide it from him, the young man was certain that Dimitriev and Anastrasia's spats were completely about him. The status quo continued until he hit puberty, where, if he hadn't blossomed so early, he would have begun his real training. And then peaceful life ended for Vladislav. It was all going so well, just a day like any other, too. It had even been the first time that he hadn't passed out while doing his monthly training with his mother, and now, on the day following his return, he was studying happily instead of feeling sick and needing bed rest.
"I still can't believe you'd go so far as to do this to him..."
"You're the one who's taking it slow, dear. The world isn't going to wait for him to grow up and learn on his own, not with the current war."
"You've never approved of the Ruthenian government, why are you so eager to make him into a soldier?"
"Maybe I'm just assuming they'll make the decision for him, and I'd rather he survive to come back to me."
Although he was sure they'd both be angry if they caught him spying, Vladislav couldn't help but 'put into practice' what his mother had shown him that morning. Sounds are just vibrations, and strings can carry vibrations really far... Which meant the solitary strand sitting in the hallway and going up the stairs, into his study room and against his ear was enough to pick up their conversation, it's magical properties carrying the sound much clearer than any mundane string.
"And if you want to be a part of this conversation, young man, come sit in the room with us."
The amber eyed youth winced when he heard his father's words, the man's tone not exactly happy. He hastily made his way downstairs, eyes downcast as he entered the kitchen, his mother trying not to laugh. "I presume this is another 'useful skill' your mother taught you? And I guess it was interesting enough to forget what I just told you yesterday about Magic pressure and feeling it in the air?"
"Oh Dear, don't be like that... I seem to recall you doing a lot more peeping than that when we were young, and getting caught quite a few times to boot. At least he's not trying to listen in on girls taking their baths."
The usually stern man's face looked so uncomfortable even Vladislav couldn't repress a chuckle when he loudly declared the conversation was done and called for them all to sit down at the table. "The soup's just about done, and I'm sure we can find much more interesting things to talk about than the foolish mistakes of a curious teenager."
No sooner had they sat down, however, did the peaceful night sky of their quaint villa on the hill get illuminated by various spotlights, the sound of numerous vehicles stopping in front of their quaint villa. The banging on the door made Vlad jump, and he looked at his father, shocked, when he heard the officer's voice. "By order of the Ruthenian government, open up! If you do not, you will be accused of aiding and hiding a criminal were-beast and terrorist!"
"Dad? What are they talking about? For god's sake, you're an Officer!"
Dimitriev raised his hand to stop any further questions, and rose from the table. "I'll go sort this out. You two stay here." He told them, taking a deep breath before opening the door and demanding to see the warrant and whatever information had led them to believe that he, an upstanding member of society and high ranking official of the police force, would ever do something as disgusting as hide a filthy were-beast in his home, and a criminal one at that.
"Honey? I want you to listen to Mommy now, and don't ask any questions." Anastrasia whispered, nervously tapping her knife against the table. She continued before Vlad could even answer. "It's going to get very loud and a bit hectic quite soon, and when that happens I want you to go up to your room, go out your window, and go to those woods we went to when you were younger. You remember the ones, right? The night I gave you your tattoos?"
"Well, yeah I do, but why.."
"No questions, dear. This is going to be very confusing, and I'm sorry, but I need you to go to that circle of stones and say the words 'the skin has been shed'. In fact, go up. Right now."
It was the most serious he'd ever heard her, and the young man didn't dare disobey, not with the cold look she gave him when he hesitated. The boy just managed to get upstairs before he heard the footsteps of his father and the other officers. He was livid. His face was red with anger, and he seemed to be holding up a page or something, but from his position up at the top of the stairs, Vladislav couldn't see. He could, however, hear their exchange.
"What is the meaning of this, Anastrasia? How could you ... Betray me like this!?" He demanded, tears brimming in his eyes. Vlad couldn't be sure if it was sadness, anger, or something else that was making his usually calm father so emotional, but he was even more shocked when the other men around him brandished rifles at his mother. "Look out Sir! It's her! Men, you have your orders, subdue the beast!"
The bullets flew, the sounds deafening in the small villa, but the only thing they hit was the table that had been thrown at the officers, the one that had at least a third of it covered in hastily scrawled marks. Dimitriev jumped out of the way as it landed on three of the invaders and immediately collapsed into a thick, green ooze that just melted through their armor and flesh. "Stop it! Don't make me do this...!" Vlad's father demanded angrily, even as the boy saw the shapes his mother created in thin air with her own strings, each one taking less than a second and throwing something else at the wave of invaders that had begun pouring into the house once the first few had cried out in pain. Fire, Lightning, acid, it was pure chaos as the soldiers tried to get into a position to shoot.
Vladislav had had enough. This was obviously a nightmare of some kind, something he'd wake up from shortly... but just in case, he ran into his room, and was just about to leave when he heard his mother's strangled cry. Immediately he turned around and rushed to the top of the stairs again, seeing his mother suspended in the air, bleeding from all over as his father's strings held her so tightly they cut into her skin. Her wrists, her legs, her neck, everything was bound, the woman suspended like the worst criminals in her husband's magic.
The youth was stunned. Never would he have ever believed that this was happening. Surely it was a mistake, right? There's no way his mother had anything to do with helping a terrorist... and even if she did, it didn't make any sense that his father would hurt her? He'd side with her, Right? Vlad could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks when the man asked his long time wife why she'd lied to him, and explained that her resistance wasn't going to help anyone. She just grinned, and whispered a word that Vladislav heard from all the way up the stairs.
"Surprise."
The world went white as the large gathering of letters and symbols she'd scratched into the floor during the fight ignited, a large explosion that knocked Vlad back into his room. The world was on fire, the heat and force pressing down against his suffocating him, crushing him... Vlad didn't even realize he was falling until he blinked and saw the ground for just a fraction of a second before everything became darkness.
The boy coughed when he awoke, the taste of blood making him sick as his blurry vision slowly focussed. He'd been knocked clear out of the house, but that had probably saved him. The entire estate was just gone, nothing left but a crumpled mass of charred wood and stone. When he picked himself up and dragged himself towards the wreckage, the young man couldn't help but think about how glad he was they didn't leave in the city proper. He was not in the mood for onlookers. And though he had a bad feeling when as he neared what was left of his home, he couldn't help it. He just had to peer over the wall of ash colored wood, just had to see what was left.
He saw his father, more well off than anyone else. His clothes had been singed, and there were a few burns on his skin, but he didn't look too worse for wear. None of the officers had made it, their bodies burned by the blast or crushed by the following collapse of the villa on top of them. His mother was still alive, but it looked like several of her bones had been broken.
"Why didn't you... why would you do this to me, you monster?" Dimitriev asked her, tears in his eyes, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself. "Is this why you always pushed me to speed up his training? Is he another... abomination like you?" he accused, earning a blood filled chuckle from his wife. The beautiful woman smiled sweetly as the crimson trailed from her lips.
"I had to make sure he could control himself before the changes came naturally... Had to ensure he could fight on his own before you noticed his changes, or before he started to change on his own... made it just in time... but it's funny, I always thought I'd have another year or three at this whole family business..."
Vladislav's eyes grew wide when he saw his father's single strand wrap around the delicate neck, his breath caught in his throat as begged god not to let this happen. This couldn't... there was no way he'd...
"Why couldn't you be more careful?"
*snap*
The young man felt all thoughts leave him at that moment, feeling anger, betrayal, rage... He was angry at them both, for leaving him alone like this. Because he was alone now , he knew. He couldn't return to his father, not after this. And yet... He was angry at both, but it was all directed to the only on left. He would have tried to kill him. Would have jumped over the wreckage and ran straight at his grieving father to break every bone in his body, no matter how foolish the act... but the pain in his heart became more than emotional.
An intense burning sensation wracked through his entire being, like a part of him was dying and trying to take the rest of him with it. He fell to his knees, panting, thoughts of revenge on the father he'd known all his left driven out by the incredible pain, almost as if his -soul- were burning. Whether Dimitriev was too distracted to hear him, or if he had and had decided to leave him be, Vladislav still didn't know to this day. But the fact remained that as he cried out and clawed at his chest to try and stop the burning, no one came to see.
No one came to see the boy who's hands were desperately clawing at his entire body, who was literally ripping away layers of skin like so much tissue paper. No one saw the convulsing body of the human like beast as it felt the pain in it's soul, saw the amber eyes shrink into slits as the beast hissed as more and more emerald coloured scales were exposed. No one saw it stumble and drag it's way into the forest, where it stayed until it calmed down.
It took all night for Vladislav to stop feeling as if he were going to die, and it took him another several hours to reconcile with the fact that the green scaled hands he nervously patted his bigger, stronger body with were indeed his own. It was him. It was all his fault. Somehow, he had become an abomination, a monster... and his mother had known. Was that why she had brought him away every month? Did it have something to do with why he had always passed out during their training? With why they were already on their way back home whenever he woke up? Every question made him lash out angrily at the trees around him, the youth clawing, kicking, doing as much as he could just to get all of these horrible feelings out there instead of in his heart, eventually falling to his knees, tired. His frustrated and ineffective beatings on the various trees only angered him. How was he supposed to take his anger out on and break things when the trees were were so damned solid?
Well, it as more than a little irresponsible, but Vlad was far past thinking anything of the sort as he lifted his hands, motioning for his strings to lift all the heavy rocks around him, deciding to just pelt heavy things at the thickest tree he could find until he tore through it. His anger peaked when not a single strand was materialized. He couldn't concentrate on their shape, the form just kept slipping away. He could see every blade of grass near him, could taste in the air the scent of every creature in the area, but he couldn't even concentrate on one measly string.
So he opted to do it the old fashion way. He picked up a fist sized rock and threw himself at the tree, slamming into it's bark with his new weapon. "Why did you kill her!? Why couldn't you save her?!? You were supposed to protect her..." He wailed as he struck the tree again and again, picturing his father's face quite clearly even if he couldn't concentrate enough to draw out his magic. It took a while before he was too tired to continue, kneeling against the tree and feeling tears run down his cheeks as he finally dropped the rock and just tried to make sense of his world now that it had been flipped ,turned upside down.
As he thought, the young man noticed that all of his wounds had already healed, and as he pondered more on it, as his boiling anger converted into a cold hatred, he began to shed the green skin. It took him a while to tear all of it off, but once he had, he was back in his own body, and calm enough to swear vengeance. Why couldn't his father have stopped the officers from coming inside the house? He'd had the authority... and if he hadn't confronted his mother... if he hadn't fought her... if he had only just... it was all his fault. And Vlad would make him pay for it. But first, he needed to pay his respects to his mother. He had to accomplish the last task she'd given him.
It took Vlad nearly a month's time to return to the dark and foreboding woods, mostly since he avoided any contact with anyone else. Who knew if there was a warrant for his arrest? And even if there weren't, there surely would be once news of what happened spread through the region. He couldn't trust anyone but himself, and so he made his way carefully, under the cover of night, from one safe patch of woods to the next until he was at his destination. He travelled at night, spending the day sleeping and practising with his magic, alarmed to learn that he'd lost almost everything. Even without the horrible sensation of being unable to think under so much primal instinct as when he'd turned green, he still felt worse than the first time he'd summoned his strings, and they didn't listen to his finger's movements nearly as well as they should have. The amount he could summon had dropped drastically, as well.
He didn't understand, but he simply decided not to wonder about it then, making his way through the ominous pressure of the woods and finding the stone circle, whispering the words his mother had asked him to. He hadn't been expecting anything, really. Hadn't really thought anything would happen, but the second the last syllable left his lips, he saw the rocks glow a deep crimson color, the world around him growing bright enough that he had to shield his eyes, only able to open them several moments later. Where he could see quite a host of people, from wolfmen to fae to humans to magical beings like sphinxes, all staring at him and tense. Not a one of them seemed to know why he was there any more than he did, and it looked like maybe they saw him as a threat, but a single voice called out and diffused the tension in the room.
"Vladislav Zolnerowich. I was wondering when you'd arrive. I'm sorry for your loss, dear. I truly am..."
It was an old woman, who's smile unnerved Vladislav almost as much as anything else in this situation. Despite the blindfold she wore, it was like she could see everything about him. "What do you mean 'recruit', grandma? I'm only here cause my mom..." He felt the tears again, but refused to let them fall, instead glaring at the aged elder before him. "Where is -here- anyway?" he added, spotting a pair of familiar faces amongst the curious onlookers. The old crone didn't answer him immediately, apparently looking him over completely before cracking a smile.
"Where you need to be. Where you'll be safe. But now isn't the time for questions. You've been through a lot. Rest a while, have a meal, and then we can speak about what you want to do in the future. If you need anything, just ask for Madame Third Awning, and I'll see what I can do to help." was all she told him. He was glad that everyone else had stopped looking at him, returning to their own going ons, but the fact that she knew his name like that, and seemed to have been expecting him... She was a creepy one all right.
Unsure of himself, Vlad moved nervously towards a pair of nearly identical, familiar looking faces. "Uhm... Hi. I remember you... you were friends of my mom, right?" he asked them , the pair nodding as they stood. "That we were, young one. Friends and allies of the fairest around. Names're Reekun an' Keegun', wordsmiths of renoun." they sing songed, offering to lead Vlad back to their corner of the underground base and see if they could get him some warm clothing to replace the burnt and tattered rags he wore.
"Here you go, Lad, a gift from ye mum.
She enchanted it herself, made it quite fearsome."
Vladislav couldn't hold the sobs back when they let him hold the finely crafted weapon, the bow's wood feeling warm under his fingers as he moved his hands over each groove, each word lovingly carved into it by his mother. Everything about it felt just -right- so much so that he couldn't bear part with the weapon for any amount of time for at least a month after he'd received it. His talk about the future with Madame Third Awning eventually boiled down to the fact that he wasn't quite ready to control his powers, his shifting, or to ply his skills at a trade in the outside world just yet. She suggested he stay with the resistance for now, for his safety. He stayed close to the twins for the next three years, gradually improving his magic under their watchful tutelage and honing his skills in mock battles against them. He wanted to join the resistance. He wanted to kill his father and everyone who'd caused his mother's murder... but no matter how many times he asked, no matter how much he trained and improved, the Madame kept telling him it was much too early for him.
He earned his keep by helping out here and there, carrying boxes and tending to gardens and such , though he never quite opened up to anyone. Even the twins, though a good source of knowledge and encouragement, he couldn't bring himself to relax with. Seeing his own father kill his mother... and they'd been deeply in love for years, he just knew that wasn't an act... how was he supposed to trust anyone when even that deep bond hadn't meant anything? At least he had two friends, strict as they could be when they weren't being playful.
It was late at night one day when the young teen rose from his bed, panting and covered in a cold sweat. He'd relived the death of his mother an untold amount of times, and knew from experience he wouldn't be sleeping any more that evening. He strolled from his room towards where he knew the twins often had a late night ale, wondering if either of them knew a good story to distract him from his own thoughts. He found them both up, but wasn't quite expecting the words he heard when he did. The tore at the curtain of trust he'd managed to build up around his heart.
"How much longer must we care for the babe, his mother's long gone and her gold's running dry."
"Until is gone everything paid, we're to care for him, you know as well as I.
"I still think she's crazy, that witch. Pacting her infant son to turn him into a weapon."
"It was working too, from what I hear, till she got herself into a coffin."
Vlad felt sick to his stomach, stumbling outside to get some air. Almost without thinking he found himself at the site of the teleport ring to the surface, looking at it nervously. He couldn't stay here any more, not with people who'd been lying to him, who only saw him as a coin purse to drain. Just as he was putting his hand to the stone, however, gnarled and thin fingers closed around him wrist.
"You'll be needing these." Madame third Awning told him, offering him a travelling pack and his bow, a knowing smile on her face. Vlad didn't know if he was more scared that she had managed to sneak up on him, or that she'd known already he was leaving.
"You're not mad that I'm leaving?"
"Not at all. You aren't ready yet."
"Uhm...Thanks."
Once he'd left, it took a few years before Vlad was in any way comfortable around anyone else. Especially humans, knowing how much most of them hated any non humans. Over the years his body had taken on more of a beastial look, his tongue splitting at the end and his eyes becoming more snake like, but with a good amount of care the young man was able to get used to hide so that his tongue tip wasn't ever showing.
Now, several years later, the young adult has spent most of his time acting as guide for anyone needing to traverse the taiga, living off of the land and otherwise scouting the movements of the Ruthenian forces wherever he could spot them. He knew his father used to be sent all over the country's borders to apprehend particularly dangerous criminals, and knowing that there was a resistance outpost nearby, Vlad was certain it would eventually get found out, and they'd send his father. Until the day came, however, the youth had to prepare himself.
If he wanted to kill Dimitriev Zolnerowich, he'd need to be strong.
To be continued~
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