Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

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Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Tyler Bishop on Thu May 14, 2015 10:27 am

Piazza San Marco at night - Venice, Italy
August 3rd, 1978


Humming under his breath, Michael Giovanni made his way back from his walk through Piazza San Marco which was easily his favorite place in Venice. There was an odd peace he found as he wondered through the square and the surrounding gardens that dated back to the late 1800s and had once belonged to Napoleon's royal palace. Even after all his time history had still managed to fascinate and excite him.

The night air held a decided chill, and as he walked he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his heavy coat, even though it would have to get a great deal colder before he'd feel it. A successful masquerade demanded attention to small details, he reminded himself.

Taking one last satisfied look at the square, Michael turned and headed back home.


* * *


"We have guests," Nicolas Giovanni, his trusted ghoul, informed him as he pressed on into the sanctuary of his home.

Michael pushed past his servant and made his way towards the sitting room as he shrugged off his heavy coat. There was a small fire burning in the fireplace, set well behind a protective grate, but still Michael choose to avoid that area of the room. As he handed his coat over to Nicholas and made his way into the sitting room he fixed his gaze on the two young men who now occupied it.

"Good evening, Gentlemen," Michael said flatly in perfectly accented Italian as he wondered why he'd have these visitors at this time of night.

"We know what you are," one of the young men barked in place of an introduction as he set his glass of brandy on the table before him.

Michael tilted his head, turning his ear towards the man, "Pardon?" He said in way of a stalling tactic. Of all the things he imagined his guests might greet him with that was easily the last one he would have expected.

The young man stood cautiously, careful to move slowly and not appear aggressive as he swallowed visibly, "We... know what you are." He repeated in a shaky voice.

"Do you now? And what would that be?" Michael asked, forcing a lighthearted mirth into his words as he made his way over to the small bar setup and poured himself a glass of brandy as well. Old habits die hard.

The man looked to his friend for reassurance, then continued. "You're... a vampire. A creature of the night. A servant of Satan himself." He said defiantly.

Slowly Micheal's eyebrow raised, "Is that so?" He said rhetorically as he pondered the young man's words. "And there's proof of this... accusation I suppose?" He asked with feigned genuine interest.

"Well... no," the young man said with a hint of frustration. "But we know. It's not what you think though," he adds quickly, his words running together as a bit of excitement seeps into his voice. "We aren't going to tell anyone." He says, thinking this might sooth things. "We just want to know about it, about you and all of it, and we won't reveal you."

His mind already at work, Michael knew how this had to end. His eyes moved to the large windows gazing out over the moonlight reflecting off the canal not far from his front door. "Let us retire to my study," Michael said finally. "We'll settle into some comfortable chairs and perhaps see how you've come to draw such wild conclusions."

The man standing looked again to his friend and was given a small nod. "Yes, we would like that," he said, a hint of triumph tinting his words.

Michael nodded and stood, slowly leading the way as the two young men followed. Helpless prey following the predator deeper into his lair.

Youthful ignorance, Michael thought to himself with a chuckle. There was a time he had been young and naive as well... even if that was lifetimes ago.

Together the four men made their way through the house and down a masterfully carved staircase into the basement level. They passed a number of doors as they followed, flanked by Nicolas to help herd them along. Finally they stepped into a comfortably furnished library of sorts. Wall-to-wall bookshelves covered every inch, giving the place a solemn, library feel.

Tonight these two naive men would get more answers then that had ever imagined.


(To be continued...)
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Tyler Bishop

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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Tyler Bishop on Thu May 14, 2015 9:51 pm

Part 2 will be available upon popular demand! Wink So if you'd like to get the next bit... you'll have to comment on the first
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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Vincent Gerhardt on Fri May 15, 2015 11:54 pm

20+ views, but no comments! Looks like people are shy Smile

I will be the first to say... MORE!
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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Tyler Bishop on Tue May 19, 2015 9:46 pm

Well, one fan is better than none. Vincent, for your reading pleasure, here you go. Smile
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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Tyler Bishop on Tue May 19, 2015 10:10 pm




"Thank you, that will be all." Michael said, nodding to Nicolas Giovanni, giving the ghoul the silent indication of what he wished.

Nicolas returned the nod in kind, "Then I shall retire for the evening. Good night sir," he said to Michael. "Gentlemen," he added, inclining his head to them slightly before making his exit. Once outside the door he shook his head slowly and pulled a key for the study and locked the door behind him as quietly as he could. Those poor kids had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.


* * *


"So then," Michael said, his brow furrowing as he recalled the conversation upstairs. "You both believe me to be a horrible creature of nightmares, a... demon, or.."

"A servant of Satan himself," the younger man who had spoken upstairs corrected.

"Ah, yes, Thank you." Michael said, flashing a smile. "Indeed, a servant of the devil himself. And, with this knowledge, you confront me in my home.. and seek to blackmail me? A murderous, demonic, creature of the night... and you just demand things of me? Am I getting this right?"

The two young men went instantly pale, exchanging alarmed glances. "Well... no, I..."

Again Michael forced a smile and it seemed to relax the two just a fraction. "Where are my manners, I still don't even know your names." He said realizing he'd never been formally introduced.

"I...I'm Christopher Santino and this is my friend Salvatore Peculli, we're students at the university," he said gesturing towards the east. "I'm going to be a journalist, you see." He adds, getting that excited cadence to his words that he had upstairs. "And I thought a sure way to catch some attention would be to tell your story, is all." He said, swallowing again nervously.

Slowly Michael nodded, "I see. So I'm to be your big story, am I?"

"I wouldn't reveal your name, sir." He said, gripping his hands together nervously in front of him. "Just some of the amazing stories and a hint of what you are."

Silence hung in the room for what seemed like an eternity for the young students. As the creature before them seemed to mull over their words he stood and made his way to a long reading table on the far side of the room and lit some of the candles there to give him more light. He then stepped closer to one of the large bookcases covering the walls and slowly traced his finger across the old, tattered spines that faced him searching for one in particular. "Well, if nothing else, I commend your boldness, gentlemen." He said finally.

The two let out breaths they hadn't even realized they were holding. Still feeling on edge about the whole situation they were far from at ease, but at least now they weren't ready to give in to full blown panic.

"Where to begin?" Michael thought out loud as he laid the tome he had selected down on the dusty table and opened the cover carefully.

"I suppose setting some facts straight is a good start." He decided. "The biggest misconception is that I'm a servant of some devil or any such nonsense. I am no more a pawn of an evil demon than you two are angels of your God." He said, nodding to himself after the declaration. He began turning the pages carefully, searching for just what he was looking for.

The man with short-cropped black hair, the one who introduced himself as Christoper, drew out a notepad and pen from the inside of his jacket and began to take notes.

Finally finding the page he sought, Michael then went to a small wooden cabinet and went into it to pick and choose a few of the items. He selected a few unmarked jars and sets them on the table, then digs deeper into the cabinet and produces a small wooden bowl, a small cloth sack that is tied shut, and a tattered looking piece of parchment. He spreads all the items out on the table around the old book and starts adding various amounts of the contents from the glass jars into the bowl.

"I come from a long line of kindred, or vampires if you will." He continues, the only other sounds in the room are the excited scratchings of a pen on paper. "Although I'm almost a hundred years old myself I'm considered a baby to many. I personally know of several kindred who are over a thousand years old," he adds, lifting the small cloth bag. "That's where I got this; a gift given to me for me to study," he says, eying it as he hefted the sack in his hand to get a good feel for the weight. "No idea what's inside it, or if it'll even work, but I've long waited for the opportunity to try and now... here you are." He said.

The men should have picked up on the threat, should have realized the danger those words carried, but they didn't. The tone of Michael's voice, the well-practiced smiles and the overall gentle, reserved manner about him left the men feeling relatively comfortable, all things considered.




Opening the sack, Michael poured the dark, powdery contents into the bowl. He then took the tattered piece of parchment and moved it to the center of the table. And last he lifted his hand to his mouth and bit into the tip of his finger, puncturing the skin and drawing blood, which he quickly pressed against the parchment and began tracing the shapes outlined in the book before him.

The two sat silently as they waited for Michael to continue, like lambs staring at the butcher's block oblivious to the danger they were most certainly in.

"We all vary, the kindred." Michael continues, "different skills, different abilities, different talents, you see. Me for example: I have a gift for the art of Necromancy, among other things."

The scratch of pen on parchment grows quicker as the boy takes notes more excitedly and continues to watch on in awe.

"And this gift, the contents of this bag, are from another far more powerful practitioner of the craft." He said, finally done with the shapes and sigils the tome guided him in created. With one last lick he lapped up the excess blood on his finger and moved the parchment over the flame of one of the nearby candles. It caught immediately and began to burn, the flame glowing with an eerie greenish tint as the flame got to the blood covered areas.

Satisfied it was burning sufficiently, Michael dropped the parchment into the wooden bowl with the other ingredients. Suddenly an unexplained wind whipped through the room extinguishing most of the candles and plunging the room into darkness. The bowl erupted in a spout of greenish fire that jumped almost to the ceiling. Smoke began to ripple out of the bowl at an alarming speed. Thick, black, undulating smoke that quickly saturated the room. Darker and thicker the haze got as the unholy winds continued to stir; the visibility dropping more with each passing second.

Then a bone-chilling howl filled the room; the cry of something not of this world making it's way through the darkness...and towards the portal the necromancer had now created for it.
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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

Post by Tyler Bishop on Wed May 20, 2015 9:20 pm

Tough crowd... Evil or Very Mad
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Re: Forbidden Rites - Secrets of the Necromancer

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