The following roleplays are part of a final series on the Nosferatus Family.All Characters play a role in these series.
- Chapter One: Davis Dream
- Chapter Two: Shae's Delirium
- Chapter Three: Barbarossa Discovers
- Chapter Four: Nosferatus Sub Rosa
- Chapter Five: The Punishment
- Chapter Six: Barbarossa Confronted
- Chapter Seven: The Rose
Chapter One: Davis dreamsI see a tall, lush rose, more beautiful than i could ever imagine amid a garden in bloom.
An old man in a gardeners outfit sits down near it and smiles at me.
The feeling of familiar joy over takes me as he pulls the rose by it's main stem, out of the earth.
He shows me its roots in their complex natural beauty, almost as beautiful as the rose itself.
As quickly as it came to me the images now fade making place for a much less enjoyable scene. A weeping family witnesses a brutal execution of their loved one. The square filled with soldiers, a clear show of power. I look at the scene from the opposite of the family and i start to realize i am actually part of the scene, and not just watching. I am a little child and someone who appears to be my mother holds me firmly by the arm, as i try to struggle lose.
“Father, Father!”
I hear myself scream, and frantically i manage to break free, running straight at the soldiers guarding the square.
In an instant of reflex one of the soldiers draws his short sword and stabs me straight in the heart.
I look down at the gaping wound and witness the blood pour out. Quickly everything around me turns in the deep red colour of my own blood and my conscious gradually slips away.
In a grasp of air Davis wakes up, now sitting straight up, slightly comforted by the familiar sight of his bedroom in his Ashforth estate.
He quickly scans his chest for a wound or blood, nothing.
Next to his bed a book on Caligan folklore still lays open, right on a page on Tokatian tales and he starts to realize what he just dreamt.
This was the story of the heroic Wladimir and his resistance movement against the Fontanees oppressors.
But what’s so strange about this dream was that he himself was in this dream, screaming for this boy’s father he was while the actual family of this story clearly stood on the other side of the square, whom Davis recognized from the story.
Confused Davis walks up towards the closet and notices his old sword leaning in the back against the wooden frame.
It remembers him of his own mother and his young days as a 14 year old boy, working for his mothers brothel as a guard.
Although the memories weren't fond, he always kept his old sword with him.
With that sword he protected his mother a many times against drunk, abusive customers.
Including his own father, the governor.
Perhaps the only customer that could return time after time after hurting the women that worked there.
He owned the place and the city, he could do whatever he wanted as long as Davis could remember.
This all changed one night when Davis came to his mother screaming for help.
When he entered the room, he caught the fat Abbot punching her repeatedly on her head.
Blood was already pouring from her face and all she could do is try to fend off the blows with her arms desperately stretched out.
In a fell sweep Davis pulled the man from his mother , his sword drawn ready to strike at his chest.
Realizing that he couldn't harm this man without putting him and his mother in serious danger, he stopped the tip of the blade an inch away from his heart and then proceeded carefully by pressing the iron tip into his fathers flesh.
A scar of a previous blade marked the spot, a scar large enough to say that a sword entered there before.
“If you ever touch her again, i will make sure it does kill you this time! get on your filthy fat sausages ye call legs ‘n walk with the winds before i change my mind!”
After the incident, Abbot fled and never returned.
But his men did who put Davis and his mother on a ship to some faraway continent and he never saw her or his home again, wondering if Abbot ever even knew he was his son, or cared.
He looks back at the book laying on his bed and pictures the odd scar on Abbots chest.
No one could survive a wound like that, the cut was wide and deep and must have struck straight into his heart.
Could it be a coincidence? The wound in his dream, the scar on his father's chest, could it be the very same wound? it must be....He grabs the book again and reads the first lines. ‘Central Tokat, the year 1004, the central town of Wonaz.”
For the rest of the the day these questions haunt him and the dream keeps returning in his mind.
Could it be a message from the very gods? He calls for his scribe and servants.
“I need to know more about this family, i need to know the answers.”
He directed his attention to his servant.
“Prepare my horse and carriage, war or no war, we are heading for Tokat!”