The priest slept through the day. This was a common practice for him since he met Marcus, though normally he would be awake by noon. Today; however, he needed to sleep through until the sun fell below the horizon. For tonight, they hunted an Elder.

The Elders existed long before the founding of the Vampire Nation. This made them more powerful, more cunning, and more savage than any vampire of the modern era.

Drink deeply of your torment. Let it temper you, priest. Let it shed you of your humanity. Let it guide you into the pit of despair where my master awaits.

Words branded into the priest’s soul by a creature of pure evil. He drank of his torment until he was drunk and sickly. The fragile bronze of his humanity had been replaced with hardened steel. For four years, he and Marcus had left a trail of bloody vampiric corpses in their wake, and finally the trail had led them to the Pit of Despair. Finally, the Master awaited.

