Reading Material

[Akkarin]

Akkarin stared out across the city from his desk. The night was clear and warm, the sky bright and the streets empty. Leaning back in the chair he pushed the old book on the desk aside and reached for the next one, even older this time. The title was just readable "History of the Blood Magics." Rubbing his eyes he flicked past the first few pages and read a passage.

"... creatures which later became know as vampires."

Akkarin paused and thought to himself That's a new one, this what I was meant to find?

Suddenly forgetting any thought of sleep he turned back to the start and began to read intently.

"That which lies in these pages is forbidden by the highest authorities. No doubt I shall die shortly after it's writing, however it is a price that must be paid. The tale of blood magic is one that must not be forgotten, lest such events come to pass again. The information I give you here is not to be used, only known. Most important is the tale of Al Hrama, the most powerful practioner of Blood Magic that ever lived.

The time and location of these events is lost in time, but it is likey to have been in early Aztec or Mayan civilisation. Blood magic was never widely practised, limited to a few adventurous individuals. One of these men was the legendary Al Hrama, a man magical gifts that the world has rarely seen since. Details of his life before taking up blood magic are almost non-exsistant, though we know he was not part of any noble house. It is difficult to pinpoint where he heard of blood magic, what we know of his character suggest he sought out a practitioner in his continued research.

To understand what happened to him after this would mean learning the blood magics, a feat none have dared since Al Hrama's death. Records show his arrest and subsequent escape and a high number of murders where the victims were drained of blood through holes in the neck. The common belife is that he delved to deep into the blood magics and was corrupted by their evil. I have found Al Hrama's studies of blood magic and can assure you there is no evil involved.

In truth he craved immortality, something blood magic could give him. To explain this I will tell you the principle in which these magics are based. Blood is the purest symbol of life and that life is the greatest force this world holds. Based on this idea the blood magics developed but never truly became accepted. It's was Al Hrama's great magical gifts that changed this, he was able to use it to it's full potential, using the blood of others and his own he could do anything he wished.

It would appear he acheived his immortality, his name comes up in records hundreds of years after these first events. The price was his need for the blood of others, in time he needed only blood to live. He avoided traveling in the day and disdained religion or any mention of this so called "god." There is clear correlation between his known locations and death rates, something the church must have eventualy realised. His death was called for and he was sought out. According to reports they could not harm him in any way, the blood magics made him invulnerable.

At this point offcial records become clouded so I will refer to the writings of Al Hrama.

My death comes for me, I can prevent this no longer. I will not takes this without a fight though, I will live on through my children. I shall give my power to those that follow me, they shall drink of my blood and become like me. Dead and yet alive, everlasting and immortal. They shall be legacy, my gift to a world that decides it no longer needs me.

On the night of writing this Al Hrama gave his blood to his followers, making them into a mockery of himself. After his death they became a plauge upon the world, the creatures of death and night, creatures which later became known as vampires. No record tells of how Al Hrama died, some say he did not. Again we must turn to his final writings

They knock at my door now, I wonder why they bother to knock? I can see their champion, the one that bears this silver sword blessed by some false god. Curious then that I have seen it kill me, in my dreams. I shall miss this life, how I could have helped them further. No matter, they have my legacy to help them now.

Rumour also tells of his children, true born children through the ages. I have found no record of them so I do not think it true, we can only hope for such a family would surely be the end of us all.

This is the tale of Al Hrama, may you bear it in mind if you read further."

Akkarin pushed the book away and sat back slowly, weary again.

"Holy shi..."
"Now then nephew, I've told you about that." It was Teroth, Akkarin's great great Uncle and the one who had advised he take up reading these books.
"This is... it's not true is it? It can't be."
"It is all true, that is the only book that holds his story. Ironic then that I found it in a second hand book store in Manchester. The rest of that book contains magics you are not ready for. The author was killed just for knowing of them and every copy but this was destroyed. The children he speaks of did indeed exsist and are our ancestors."
Akkarin remained silent for several minutes, trying to process what he had just learned.
"The children of Al Hrama, has a nice ring to it. I suppose no one can know of this?"
"This is only known to you and me, should other vampires learn of it there would be much trouble. Now I suggest you sleep, it has been a while. Oh and when you get a moment, vist your sister."
"Sister? I don't have... ah hell tell me they didn't?" Akkarin placed his hands over his face.
"Two years, she has adopted he natural age now so it is the best time, she should know of you, it may help her turn to us."
Akkarin simply nodded and stood up from his chair. Sleep wasn't far off.

[Akkarin]

He was at the desk again, looking out over the canals of Fouders. There were no stars tonight, no moon, the clouds covered them all. Shuffling to a more comfortable posistion he looked down at the latest book, An Introduction to Magic given to him by his good friend Jessica. He was already half way through having been reading most of the night. There weren't all that many spells, it was more about the basics unfortunately.

Akkarin looked back up to the window, a group of council were walking by far below. He was already standing when he realised there was nothing he could do, the curse still had him. Weeks ago he had fought with another of his family, an uncle this time. His name had been Athar and he was deeply into his magic, damn good at it too. It hadn't been to much of a challenge, but Athar wasn't a complete idiot, he'd managed to activate his "masterpice" before he died. Now everytime he caused pain he felt the full effect, even to the point of recieving the same wounds. So he'd been off the hero work for the last week, a fact he was painfully aware of.

Fortunately there was Jess working on it, the same Jess that had given him this book. With any luck Akkarin would be kicking several kinds of ass by tomorrow evening.

Taking his seat again with a sign, he flipped the book shut, there was only so much study one could take in an evening. He leaned the chair on it's back legs and rested his feet on the desk, hands behind his head, thinking over the latest events. All this Ghedarra stuff was worrying and just because of what it might mean. The name stirred something in him, like a memory but different, older. He'd told the others this "servant" wouldn't be Saint, that he wouldn't know them.

I can only hope that's true, his death was bad enough for them, but to come back? No, they have to realise that John Saint is gone, it's the best way.

Standing, he turned towards his bedroom, but stoped suddenly. Teroth was standing there, watching intently.

"Evening uncle, something interest you?"
"You are studying magic? why?"
"Oh you know, all this curse stuff has gotten me into it, not to mention that Al Hrama thing."
"Very well, come with me."

Looking more than a little confused, Akkarin closed his eyes and prepared for the familiar rushing sensation.

[Akkarin]

"Welcome to the library of Al Hrama"

The library was beyond huge, the shelves extend further than the eye could see, even Akkarin's. Everything was polished marble, the floor, the shelves, the pillars extending to a roof just at the edge of vision. The whole thing managed to give an impression of crisp perfection, a flawless masterpiece of architecture. Given the fact that it had not been used in several centuries it was in remarkable condition, no surface had even a spec of dust and every book appeared new. Akkarin started to walk down along one of the shelves, running a finger over the spines of each book he passed.

"I've been here before, I can... remember this place. But that doesn't make sense, I know I've never been here...."

Teroth took a place beside him and they walked together

"It is difficult to explain, but what you experience is another of Al Hrama's legacies. Intentionally or otherwise he left all of us, his children, with some form of his memories. To what extent varies among us, but most are not aware of them. To date, I have not met one with as many of his memories as you, it is quite remarkable."

Akkarin suddenly stopped next to a particular book, and pulled it from it's place.

"Here... a study of the ancient religious sects of Japan, is this the kind of thing you mean?"

"Exactly, I have studied this place for many years and discovered many of the memories I hold. Perhaps it would be wise for your study of magic to continue here, as you are somewhat familiar with it already."

Akkarin replaced the book and resumed walking, wearing a slight frown. They continued along for several minutes until Akkarin spoke up.

"You're right, of course.... and I do feel comfortable here. I expect this has to remain secret too?"

"Of course, were our relatives or indeed many power hungry forces to learn of this place, we would have more trouble than we can deal with. Use it to further your study, but do not speak of it"

"Right, since I'm here I'm gonna get some done, if you don't mind?"

Teroth nodded and took a step back, disappearing in an instant. Akkarin made his way back to the desk, an elaborate work of oak, and flipped open one the books waiting there.