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[Feb. 1st, 2009|04:24 pm] |
premise.
FOR CENTURIES, they have walked among us. Immortals. Bloodthirsty beings who roam in the night, lurk in the shadows. Predators. Creatures with abilities beyond comprehension of most. Folklores have been real in the streets of England for eons.
LIVERPOOL, 1302. It began with two sons. Born of an immortal man and thus, immortal themselves. Such brothers had not existed since the infamous Cain and Abel. They hated each other with such a fervor, it was any wonder the pair didn't find a way to kill each other. A seeming accident would come to change everything. Two sons. Both immortal. One, William, bit by a wolf. The other, Gabriel, by a bat. That is at least the story of what started it all. Nobody knows anymore. The one, turned into what would later be named a Vampire. The other, turned into a horrible hybrid of a creature, wild and bloodthirsty. He was an animal, one that would be deemed a Lycan. The feud they had as mortals became even more brutal as the creatures they had become. Bloodthirsty beings, they began to turn human population, ravaging towns and villages alike. They began to create others like them, forcing a war onto innocent humans, reborn into a life they knew little about.
Gabriel, the elder of the two brothers began to put a hierarchy in place. He appointed a chain of command, and set a very strict and regal tone of how his "children" were to act. His word was scripture, as far as they were concerned, and nobody dared question their creator. Gabriel had a line he would say upon the rebirth of each of his chosen ones. "You are no longer a mere mortal, but a god who walks among them." William had a different approach, or rather, none at all. He never entirely knew what he was doing, those who were bitten only lived because he was on to kill someone else. He had no control over his actions and thus, never set to put any sort of structure in place for his "children".
Decades of the war raged, before William, the first Lycan, was slain by his brother. Head severed and the beastly form lay limp in the street. The vampires rejoiced in the victory. William's army was vastly outnumbered, yet given a choice in their surrender. Face the same fate as their maker or submit themselves to be the subordinate of Gabriel's children. Pure silver spiked collars were fashioned, clipped around each Lycan like the dogs their new masters thought them to be. They were their servants, slaves for a more accurate term. For centuries they did the biddings of the vampires; their masters. From building underground halls for the vampire covens to bringing humans for the feedings. They were shielded from the moonlight, kept trapped in cages when their masters did not need them. A hierarchy was rising within the vampire race. Gabriel appointed three successors to his reign as leader of the race. Each with equal power in title. A triad of the eldest and most powerful vampires that Gabriel himself had sired. They were, for lack of a better term, the royalty of the vampire bloodline. They would carry on his legacy, living as royals, high above the Lycan race. The three in turn appointed a quorum of twelve, a council that together made decisions, and dealt judgement to those who went against the coven.
It wasn't until one Lycan decided to change it all. Augustus, once William's second would lead the revolution of the Lycans. Vampires were unable to quell the revolution of the Lycans, and the bloodbath began. Gabriel was long gone, having left his more than able "children" to maintain the life he had given to them. Years of evolving, of changing with the new customs and technology that the world began to adopt had left each side with assets and power even outside their own covens. They ran the streets in the dark, fought over territories that branched far outside of Liverpool. Each race has been so wide-spread not only all over the United Kingdom but to the rest of Europe, the Americas, even reaching far out to a coven of vampires in Antarctica and a pack of Lycans in Africa. Vampires, in their pristine and perfectly regal ways, have kept record of as many covens and vampires as possible. Lycans however, do not run things the same way - "to each his own" is their motto.
The streets of Liverpool, England have run red with the blood of creature and human alike, all caught in the crossfires of a war that has raged for centuries. There is no end in sight. For many, the feud is all they have ever known and ever will know. "Born" into hatred; into fear and violence, these beings know only the war. They know only the loyalties they are born into. They are enemies, and always will be. The hatred has trickled down from their "fathers", leaving their "children" devoted to a never ending war.
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