Chapter 1





Who I am

Hello, my name is Samuel wolf and this is my story, the story of a vampire.
I was born in three-hundred-seven A.D. on what is now England, throughout my life I had heard of demons and the heroes who killed them. When I was six years of age, and unfortunate event took place that sent me to where I am now, my home was invaded and the only two people I cared about murdered….
When my mother found out what was happening she took me to the wood box, it was nothing fancy just a four foot by four foot hole with a lid, and put me in it to hide. I don’t know who they were but as I looked up I poked my head out so I could see and I saw my father pushed to his knees and my mother in the hands of one of the men. The man holding my mother put a knife to her throat and jerked on it I heard my father yell, if from pain or agony I could not tell as we both watched my mother’s body fall to the ground and her blood pool around her. The guy holding my father jerked out another knife and repeated the process and my father died holding my mother on his knees her body in his lap, I saw my parents murdered before my eyes.
My father, though he was one of the top assassins was defeated by his grief from the loss of his wife and my mother. He lived on a farm on the outskirts of the castle, and thanks to him I knew how to farm and plant and thanks to my mother I knew how to cook somewhat so I wouldn’t starve. I lived alone for two years learning the tricks of the land and how to use it to protect and survive, but it didn’t last long. On December fifth 315 A.D. the king’s men came took my home and threw me in the dungeon, along with other criminals, for lack of payment on the land, after two days in the dungeon I was before the king.
My king was just, king, fair, but firm and I told him my story the story of my father his friend died two years ago, but to this day I never knew what took him so long to come arrest me guess it don’t matter now.
This man who could have my head sat through my story, listening without interrupting and learning and after I was done he said.
“My boy I knew your father he was a good man and an excellent solder…I am sorry for your loss. As for your house I’m afraid the law states that the owners of the house must be among the living or sold, however I will make you a deal with you, if you join my army and serve me I will hold your lands in reserve and give it to you on your eighteenth birthday, and in the mean time you will train as a starting solder. Is it a deal?”
Overwhelmed with joy the kind of which has been absent for 2 years I said.
“My king I would gladly join, thank you and maybe revenge for my parents is not out of my grasp after all.” Looking up I also asked in a voice that was more firm than a c child should hold “however I will not join as a solder I will become an assassin the likes of which will surpass even my father!”


From then on I was an assassin of my king Drago ruler of Zipheran.


The training was long and hard, survival, weapon mastery, poisons, agility, and strength were needed along with the ability to think clearly under pressure. These skills are necessary for a true assassin, and I was going to be greater than my father. Fueled by rage and lust for revenge I trained harder longer and learned faster, by the age of twelve I was able to lift a boulder three times my size and weight. My eyes, they say the eyes are the windows to the soul….and my eyes were full of haltered and my soul blackened from lust of revenge.


During the day I was the hard, fast, killing machine, but at night while asleep nightmares of my mothers and fathers death haunt me.


My features changed dramatically over the years, my blond, golden hair turned to solid black and my eyes from a soft gentle warm blue to a cold, hard amber color. The men alongside me blamed it on my unstoppable rage that threatens to burst out, and my nightmares only added fuel to the fire. The angrier I got, the more I trained and the better I got.


At the age of seventeen I was one of the top assassins in our army and had just one more year to go until I got my home back, then I could set out on my own quest to find my parents murderers. Even with just a year away I would never see my home again. That morning, three months and twelve days after I turned seventeen I got my one-hundred-twenty-fifth assassination order, the ruler of Necromannia, a strong and powerful king, but a tyrant king.

Among the Zipheronian assassins there are three main weapon classes’ daggers and swords, spears and bows, and poisons and hand to hand combat. With swords there are three fighting styles, one sword style - you use just one sword for very powerful blows, it is uneven and crude and because of this you tire faster and the blades tend to break if you hit something wrong so it’s not used often. Two sword style – with two sword style you have one sword in each hand and you can use the flow of your body’s strength into each evenly for more powerful and devastating blows the strain on the swords is taken off and your blocking abilities are greatly improved. The power of the attack is reinforced by the second blade so the second attack adds to the first. And for the third style it is three sword style one sword in each hand and the third griped between your teeth. This is the most powerful of the styles but that power comes at a price if untrained this style can tear your own body to shreds because of the third sword in your mouth you can attack with the swords in your hand and then almost charge forward and push your opponent and with this style each sword reinforces the next in an endless cycle so if used right the power is up to you.

The only difference with daggers is that there are four styles and six poison dagger styles. You get four daggers with grooves in the hilt to where they can fit between your fingers and you can make a fist. There are the first three styles same as swords just with daggers instead of swords. Then there are three for each hand between the fingers. And with poison daggers it’s the same just with poison coated blades.

We assassins are taught at an early age to not be seen to hide and if necessary to kill whoever is in your way to reach your target. After the target is dead we are taught to flee and not be seen to stay hidden is out power the shadows are our lovers and family and the darkness is our friend and allies, and we use our friends and family to flee at all cost.

Bows are what I am best at, in most cases bows are mid or long ranged weapons well in mine it is also close, once you reach the level of assassin I am you get a bow with blades on the front of it for close combat.

Our spears are something to behold, they are split into 4 pieces all held together by a stretchy silk type substance that despite my tries I have not been able to break, and it lasts for hundreds of years always retaining its shape. This thread is connected to the last section of the spear and to the blade and the two pieces in the middle are hollow so the thread can run through it. Each section is two-and-a-half feet long with a two foot blade for a total of a nine-and-a-half foot spear. We hide the pieces in our boots so we can pull the last section out and the rest follows and when pulled together by the thread it’s held tight as if it were one solid thing.

Poisons, darts, injections, food, drinks, it’s all a form of alchemy that creates one substance from many others to end life. The true price of poison is…life; we just make sure it’s theirs and not ours.

Hand to hand, from years of training out bodies are killing machines. We know several fighting styles to help us in need and we will use every one before we die to make sure we complete our goal.

This was just another mission, nothing more nothing less so I thought I never could have guessed how much it would have affected me. When on a mission you can get information from poor locals, gold to starving people can buy you a lot, and people will do almost anything to save the ones the love. I herd roomers of people disappearing in the night, whole families gone, and stories of monsters and a maze, a maze of demons and hell on earth under the royal palace.

Then a story of a demon, a demon with long flowing hair of gold, deep penetrating amber eyes, skin of steel with a soft pale color, a demon in the form of a girl, a defenseless young girl with fangs and blood lust, a vampire. At the time I didn’t believe in such things, just stories, just myths to scare little kids into sleeping or so I thought. She was supposed to be in a room in the center of the maze, a room of bones and death. But like I said at the time I thought it was nothing but stories. As rumored if you can find her before her cell opens then you can get out alive… none ever survived they said.

Staying at the local inn, my excuse is I was resting for a few days, I left early in the morning before the sun and I went to the palace patrolling in the sands doing guard count circling the palace several times, and in that time I saw the best way to get in and due to the information I bought I found a direct route to the king, king Steffen.

Mapping out this route I headed back to the inn to sleep, before I went to sleep I sent a message via messenger hawk back to my home. The message stated that I would need my three poisons, my harness to hold all seven of my daggers and my swords and my leggings to hole my two spears. Also my bow and my quiver for my arrows, and a message to the king “I can and will complete this mission and return as soon as I can after collecting my items and returning for the job to be done.” With my message sent I drifted to sleep.