Into the Night...

A One on One Vampire RP
TobiasRosetta & StealthPanther

Duke Liam Heckroth Mackenzie




Born on the 29th of October, in the year 1660 Sir Liam became the Duke of Heckroth at age twenty after both his mother and father died of an odd illness which had never been identified. The year now is 1750. Not much is known of the man, save that he has been Duke for a good seventy years. His servants do not speak about him to the peasants in the town surrounding his castle. It had been widely assumed that Sir Liam is an aged tyrant.

Through the town of Heckroth, it is common for young persons to mysteriously go missing through the night. At the beginning of the Dukes reign, it was both young men and women, generally above the age of 15, yet under the age of 25, normally only one or two a month. But recently it seems that young men have been the target of favor for the person that was stealing away the towns residents, and less frequently. This night is the one night a year that Duke Liam leaves the castle, to walk the streets of his town, hunting on his own. Of course no one knew that's what he was doing...


It was nearly completely dark out finally. The sun just having fallen past the horizon. The sky was still a little light, the blue fading darker and darker with each passing moment. Heavy, low lying black clouds were rolling in to cover the sky. Hallow's Eve was approaching, and the wind outside was brisk, and ominous. The houses and shops that lined the streets were glowing with firelight and candles. It was only about 6 in the evening, but with the fall the sun fell earlier and earlier each day.

The roads, no long dirt paths but finally paved with cobblestone, echoed the loud clip-clopping of hooves. Someone was riding through town. The steed that carried the dark figure was a pure white mare, obviously a higher caliber of breed than the run of the mill Appaloosa that the region was famed for. Perched atop the horse, a young man rode, confident and with the air of a well practiced equestrian. His shoulders were broad, laden with muscle, and draped over with a dark cloak. A sturdy weather-proofed fleece, with a crimson wool lining on the inside. Against the shadowy appearances of his garb, the mans face was pale, boarding on stark with it's whiteness. His facial structure was sculpted and angular, attractive buy cold in it's expression. Deepset, his eyes were chilling hazel, that in certain lights would appear gold, or a green ochre that despite the warmth of the color, were cold, and emotionless.

Full lips, tense and drawn into a mute line across his face, set high over a rounded chin, and prominent jaw. His cheekbones, high, as were the arch of his eyebrows, aided into a feline appearance that made it seem like he were beyond the grips of time. He looked to be ageless, though his hair, falling well down the length of his spine, was as ebony as the cloak he wore. The mass of it was bound away from his face, held at the nape of his neck with a ribbon of scarlet satin.

It seemed, as he traveled through the town, that he was searching. Though his expression was less than welcoming, something about him was drawing, enticing. But he was looking for someone. A specific person, and he would not return that night to his home, until he found them.

Despite the darkening horizons and the rumours spread about at night, there was a soft padding of footsteps along the cobblestone streets. Families and townspeople were at their tables or in their beds, keeping away from the woods and streets, especially so close to Hallow's Eve.

One lone woman trecked along the roads, her warm boots dirty from scrounging around the woods just beyond the far walls of the town. In her arms was a basket filled with herbs and plants. Herbs for medicines, herbs for cooking. It was all used and properly cared for. Rhianwen didn't waste, and what remaining money she had managed to keep to herself after her parents died was hidden away at all times.

With a soft sigh, the female shook her head to rid herself of such unpleasing thoughts. It had been nearly two months since her parents passed away due to cholera. The only two remaining treasures she had from them consisted of the last sword her father forged, and the opal necklace of her mother.

As the cold, brisk night air kissed her skin, Rhianwen tugged her deep purple, almost black fleece cloak around her small frame, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The peasant woman had just recently reached her 20th year, and though she was not at all an ugly thing, she never paid much attention to her appearance. Strawberry blonde hair fell to cover her shoulderblades, the locks shining almost a golden color when in the right light. Almost orange, her red blonde tresses gave off the color of a perfect sunset with reds, golds, and oranges, depending on how the light hit it. It was her best feature. Blue green eyes scanned the streets before she saw her small cottage, a little shack she shared with none but the ocassional stray cat.

Lowering the hood of her cloak as she walked through the door, the young woman set aside her basket, looking in the cracked mirror by the wash basin. Her hair was a bit messy from getting tangled in branches, her fair skin smudged with dirt. Tracing the scar over her face, her hands started at her left temple, trailing along the mark unil they rested on her right cheek.

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Liam had felt very close to giving up, that evening. Until finally, he felt the pull. The blood that called to him. He did not simply ride out into the town, and pluck up the first creature he saw that appealed to him. If his hunt was that inclusive, he would simply feed from animals. But it was more complicated than that. Slowing his mare, Liam reached down, a single leather clad, long fingered hand stroking the horses snowy mane as he watched the figure of the woman that had caught his attention disappear into a mere shanty on the side of the road. As she slipped inside, he caught a glimpse of light copper hair, that quite suddenly set his blood to boil. "She is the one, Penelope... " He mumbled in a melodious voice, deep and velvet as it slid from his mouth, articulated with the highest of cultured accents.

In one swift movement, the Duke dismounted his horse, sturdy boots landing on the cobblestone with a firm thud. Without another word, he guided the horse towards the shanty. A silent command told the mount to stay put, as he approached the door. Liam wasn't concerned with his appearance. He knew that to this human, he would appear flawless. His kind were a deadly perfection, and he was confident in the fact that he was young in appearance, handsome, and even his clothes did not dare to wrinkle on him.

Finally, situated before the door, Liam drew his leather gloves off, tucking them away into a pocket on his sturdy, well fashioned riding breeches, before raising his fist, and knocking on the wooden door gently. The sound reverberated through the whole house though. Demanding and insistent. He left it at the 4 short raps before dropping his hands to his sides, and waiting. His broad shoulders were squared, drawn to his full height of nearly six and a half feet. An imposing figure, dressed in rich clothes that screamed of his status in nobility. His green eyes were sharp and speculative as he waited for an answer.

Setting aside the herbs and plants, the female brought out an old iron pot, placing it oer the fire to begin making a simple stew. A small pitcher of milk rested in the ice box, ready for her to treat herself tonight. The flame haired maiden took out a small knife, cutting into some fresh egetables and a small chunk of quail to place into her now boiling water.

Just as she began to stir the still unthickened stew, Rhianwen startled at the sound of a loud, sudden thudding upon her wooden door. Confusion and trepidation eased over her as she inched towards the door, one hand on the hilt of her father's blade. Pulling the cowl of the cloak up oer her scarred face, the woman tepidly creaked the door open a crack.

Standing at only about five feet, four inches, the male before her was already quite foreboding by height alone. Swallowing hard, she took in the pale, exotic, strong and sturdy male at her door. At first she faltered, seriously contemplating closing the door in the man's face. Howeer, he had yet to do her any harm of pose a threat, and thus she reasoned it would be terribly rude to turn him away. Although why a noble stood at her shanty at this hour, neermind stood there at all, was beyond her comprehension.

Finally, Rhianwen found her voice. "G-good evening sire. What might I do for you?" her voice was a soft alto melody, nothing too high, nothing too deep. It was a gentle, calm tone, and her eyes watched him with uncertainty and wonder.

Liam kept his face a calm, composed mask as the door drew open slowly. She had pulled her cowl up once more to hide her face, but he had caught enough of a glimpse to know that while she was a beautiful woman, her face had been scarred. He quickly pieced together an idea of what her story was like in his head, why she lived in this downtrodden cottage alone. He gathered his information quickly, all before she spoke. And when her soft voice reached his ears, his lips drew slightly at the corners, the fullness of this mouth elongating to show a whisper of a smile. He stepped back from the door and bowed to her deeply, a hand resting on his abdomen where his torso folded, the other tucked behind his back. He stood slowly, his eyes fixing on her face, almost as though he could see through the shadow, his pupils locking onto hers.

"Good evening, miss." He said softly. His voice was deep, vibrating through his chest like a crystal clear bell. He had no rasp to his voice, as many of the hardened, tobacco smoking men in town. "This may come as a very odd.... Statement, but I must be perfectly honest. I saw you, just now, coming home, and I felt... Inexplicably drawn to you. I felt that I needed to meet you." His voice and his eyes had a disconcerting, and soothing draw to it, all at once. Hypnotic, as he stood there unblinking. The phantom smile did not leave his lips, and if it weren't for the fact that he had spoken, he would seem almost to be a statue, the way his face appeared to be sculpted from white marble. He had no color to his face at all, but he did not have the unhealthy grey pallor that came with an aversion to sunlight.

"Might you come with me for a ride, so we can talk?" He asked gently, holding a hand out to her. Everything about him was welcoming, warm, and calling for her to come with him. He looked to be no older than twenty three at the most, but the aura about him was mature, wise, almost ancient. It was as though he had stepped out of time, and there was no telling how old he really was.

It took a few moments for Rhianwen to register his words, her cheeks begining to flush a faint rouge color. Now this was unprecidented. Neer before had someone come calling on her for such an unusual and oddly flattering reason. Dipping into what she hoped was an acceptable curtsey, she tilted one leg back, toe ont the ground as the back foot crossed behind her front ankle, knees bent and head bowed as she lifted her kirtle.

Standing back up, she spoke up, hoping the man was as kind as he seemed. He was alluring, and she felt oddly compelled to follow without a word.

Her grumbling stomach brought her back to herself, further embarassing her in the process. Rhianwen's face burned two tones pinker as she looked away in mortification. "I-I wouldn't wish to turn you down sire, but perhaps we might first partake in some sustenance? I hope you pardon me, I have not yet eaten much at all today, I seem to have missed lunch."

Opening her door all the way, the maiden gestured to her old and small, yet cozy little shanty abode. "I-I know it's not much...but I hope it isn't too threadbare so as to offend sire....after doing me the honor of a visit." she apologized, looking around and sorely wishing things were as they were before. The bubbles could be heard from the pot as the stew began to simmer, emiting a faint, meaty aroma into the enclosed space.

Liam too, was hungry, but the food she needed to consume was not a kind he could partake in. Of course he would not say such things. "I beg your forgiveness, my lady. I spoke so hastily, I forgot to consider you. I would not wish to take you from your supper. I do not have a hunger, this evening, but I will more than gladly wait for you to eat. It would not do well for you to faint." He replied smoothly, his tone concerned as he bowed again. Though she had not 'formally' invited him in with her words, an invitation was one nevertheless, and he ducked his head slightly, stepping inside the small cottage.

"I assure you, my lady, it takes a great deal to offend me. I am not so noble as to have a distaste for cozy, warm homes. I envy your home, in all honesty. It seems like a very comforting place to return to after a long day." He complimented tastefully, obviously well practiced in the art of conversation. "Please, by all means, do not let me keep your attention from your cooking." He added, nodding a bit as he realized she was indeed in the midst of making a stew. It smelled incredibly appetizing, though he knew if he were to eat it, it would hold no flavor for him, the creature that he was.

"I am called Liam, by the by. Please, do not be afraid to address my by name. Might I have the honor of addressing you by your name as well, my lady?" He asked softly. His gentle amber green eyes watched her quietly. It had been a considerably long time since he'd spoken at length to his prey.

Waving her hands dismissively, the socially akward and still rather stunned female tied to reassure him. "N-no need to call me by any title, for as you can see, I have none. I'm Rhianwen, please...do make yourself comfortable while you wait.." Returning to her stew, she stirred the simmering liquid, glad it seemed to be turning out allright. It looked about done, and so she began to rummage around her small cabinet for a spoon and bowl.

Turning to her unexpected guest, the redhead bit her lower lip, looking concerned. "Are you sure? If you are not feeling well or have no appetite when you usually have one, it is best to eat to get your strength back....but..if you are certain." the female commented, watching the handsome gentleman to see if he displayed any sign of illness. He seemed a bit pale, but in a seemingly natural way oddly enough. He seemed to be in good health, and she didn't feel it would be appropriate to further inspect for confirmation. "Well, let me know if you change your mind."

Just as Rhianwen ladled a generous portion of stew into her bowl, a light thump could be heard from the window, a black alley cat, closely followed by a smokey grey and a speckled calico showed up at her home, meowing piteously. With a smile, she turned her attention to the three furry creatures, momentaritly forgetting Liam.

"Oh, did you guys get caught rummaging around the butcher shops again? You guys need to be careful. But in any case, you must be hungry!" cooing softly to them, the animal loving woman scooped a smaller bowl for each feline, placing the offering on the wood floor.

{| I'm going to draw a picture of Rhianwen for you later tonight, to make up for how sparcely I've been post. |}

"Rhianwen..." Liam sighed in a gentle voice, his eyes softening for a brief moment. "A beautiful name, my lady." He said gently. "Thank you for your hospitality. It has been a very long time since I have experienced such kindness." The Duke added, walking further into house. He stood beside as a chair at the small table she had, but did not sit, instead keeping on his feet. His cloak had fallen over his shoulders, obscuring his body for the time being. He was satisfied to just watch as she tended to her dinner.

"I'm very sure, Rhianwen. Thank you for your concern." He said politely. It wasn't long before both of their attention was drawn to the window. Three animals had entered the home through the opening. Cats. At first, Liam bristled, on a defensive instinct, until he heard her soothing voice cooing at them. They were her pets, not in the least bit threatening.

"These are your companions?" He asked her softly, walking over, and even going so far as to lower himself to one knee near the animals. Beneath his cloak, he rifled around a bit, tugging the leather glove away from his hand, before extending his arm to one of the cats, the black one which was closest. His kind often had animal familiars, unlike the myth that vampires repelled animals. In fact, he had many familiars. The cat nuzzled itself against his hand, and he gave a gentle half smile.

"There's a good cat..." He said softly., petting it a few times, before withdrawing his hand, and returning to his feet.

((aw, really? You needn't feel bad, tis ok. But thankies! I'd love to see a picture of her. ^-^ ))

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At his words, the female felt her brows furrow in confusion and wonder. How could he not be used to kindness? Were people truly so crude and insesitive to someone as polite and gentle as the man before her? What a sad thought indeed. "I don't see how that would be, that seems so unusual." began the female, voicing her thoughts. "With a gentleman such as yourself, why would anyone deny you kindness or hospitality of any kind?"

Before she could get up to resume eating, the redhead paused, watching with curiousity and slight nervousness as he approached her friends. As he knelt and stroked the black one, she smiled in delight, petting the other two as they nudged her hands with their furry heads. The black feline was by far the most inquisitive of the three, going up to a stranger and eagerly demanding attention.

"Indeed....they are my friends, I've been feeding them for a while now, and they come around every night. " Rhianwen sighed happily, stroking the soft heads and cooing gently to each in turn before cuddling them to her chest. Watching the inky black cat play with the duke, Rhianwen felt a little half smile tug at her lips. "He seems to like you sir Liam."

Offering a tender smile, one that seemed like it was possibly incredibly rare to see on the ageless mans face, Liam shook his head. "It's not for a lack of kindness. It's a lack of people. I am not often allowed out from my home, you see. Most of the people I am surrounded by daily are servants. Required to treat my kindly, and with respect." He explained to her softly. "I thank you, though, for your compliments, Lady Rhianwen." Liam added.

"You are a kind woman, a gentle disposition... It is easy to see why your friends return to you, night after night." He added, glancing down at the cat that was weaving around his leather boot clad legs, nuzzling against his calves to attain more attention. "Were I to be one of their number, I imagine I too would seek out the comfort of your hospitality." The duke commented, finally leaning down and tenderly lifting the cat up, laughing quite suddenly as it licked his face, with it's abrasive tongue. The sudden laughter surprised even himself. In all honesty, he had forgotten the last time he'd even so much as chuckled in amusement.

The young maiden tilted her head curiously at the duke, wondering what kind of life he must lead, and why on earth he was not in his home and out with her at her shanty. Quite a puzzling thought indeed. Stroking the smokey grey and the calico feline, the red haired woman found herself lost in her thoughts. What kind of life did this man lead? What type of noble or high class was he? Perhaps he was a rich merchant or the son of one, perhaps he was skilled in his trade, perhaps he was a mayor's son. It never ocurred to her he'd be too high up in the ranks, for the last people like that she had eer encountered all had much more foul dispositions and she did not trust them.

Giggling a bit at the black, meowing ball of fur that licked the man's face, Rhianwen flushed at Liam's words, flattered and moved by his gentle demeanor. "You speak too well of me, I treat them no less than what they should be treated as. No less than I should treat anyone." Looking up at Liam, she was tempted to ask more, but kept quiet. He was exotic and unusual, and it was rather facinating and exciting to have his company.

Picking up the two cats closest to her, she placed them byu the bowls she laid out, indicating they eat. "Eat, you need food." With this, she sat down to eat her bowl of stew as well, only to stop before her first bite. "Sir Liam, while you may not want food, perhaps..I could get you some milk or water?" offered the woman, watching him. "In any case, where might you be from sir?"