(((As stands my custom, I will reveal my bio once I have revealed his name in the thread. also, this introduction will do a bit of god-modding of Vlasdimir. If needed, it can be changed.)))
The night after the message from Atlantis had arrived at Manor Montagrief, a black shadow also fell upon its estate. A man stood fast in the moonlight, looking himself like a moon god. The light danced on his pale skin before trickling down his long black queue. His black cape fluttered in the breeze, and the golden inlay sparkled like the stars. He smiled grimly.
"You need more caution, fool," said a nearby fir tree. "The guards may likely see you."
"Humans are daft and blind, Vlasdimir," the first responded. "To them, I am no more than a beam of moonlight."
The man walked toward the tree, and seemingly from nowhere Vlasdimir stepped into its shadow. The first smiled. "I am glad to see you are well, my friend and my brother. Are you well? "
"Well enough," was the reply.
"And this Exeter? How is he?"
"Reasonable, mostly."
"So, I am to..." He paused knowingly.
"I am bound to him by sacred laws. I cannot speak nor plan his downfall."
"Ah, but I am not bound. I can--"
"No, do not speak of these things at this time. There are other matters."
"Of course, of course. I and my men at your service. We are nearly twenty strong. Sadly, we are being challenged by the ice giants and I must protect the women and children. Still, twenty of us are more than a legion of men."
"It is enough. I will signal for you when you are needed. Keep out of sight until then."
"To hear is to obey, my friend, my ally."
With that, Vlasdimir stepped back and vanished. The man drew his sword: a thin epee, and pressed its point firmly against his index finger. When he removed the blade, a small point of dark crimson appeared on his finger. He rubbed it with his thumb, and thus satisfied, returned his sword to its small ring-sheath and made his way to his people.
As he was returning through the allies of the city, he noticed a man beating a young elven girl. Fury whelmed inside his marrow. He drew his sword and calmly walked toward the man. The human had risen his hand to smite the woman again. "Release her," said a voice said behind him. The human turned and saw a pale man with a thin sword in his hand.
"I'll do what I want, pal," said the human, obviously intoxicated.
"No, you shall not," said the pale figure.
Angry, the man drew a broadsword and charged at the figure. With a move that almost looked a dance, the figure parried the large, clumsy blow of the man and made his reposte into the man's right underarm. Instantly the blade dropped and the arm went limp. With a shriek of terror, the man turned and fled.
Before giving chase, the pale figure knelt next to the elven girl. "Are you well enough to move on your own?"
"Yes," she replied, still tearful, "I think so."
"Good. I shall deal with your assailant."
The drunken man stumbled through the streets and to his home. As he opened the door, he saw the pale figure running toward him, sword in hand. The drunk shrieked, and flung himself inside, forcing the door shut with his weight. He leaned against its sturdy frame and sighed relievedly. The next moment, he found a metal point sticking through his right shoulder. When it removed, he fell forward into the room.
The door swung open to reveal the pale man on the other side. The drunken man shrank away across the room. The pale man progressed.
"Help," the drunken man said weakly, then cried "Help me!"
"And who was to help the elven girl?" the pale man retorted. He thrust the sword into the left underarm.
A woman came out of the bedroom. She saw the pale figure, shining in the moonlight, and moreover, she saw her husband with a metal blade in his shoulder. "Shelton!" she cried, "Please, sir, let him go!"
"What is it to you, woman?" the pale man said. "He should have thought of the consequences."
The epee withdrew and pierced into the man's left leg. The woman cried out. "How does it feel to be powerless?" the man said calmly. The epee rose and fell again, in the same leg. "How does it feel to feel what the elven girl felt when you beat her?"
"Daddy?" came the thin voice from behind the pale man. "Daddy!"
The pale man turned and looked. It was a young girl, no more than ten. "Elisibeth!" the wife cried out, running to her daughter.
"Please, stop hurting my daddy," the girl pleaded, tears beginning to streak down her cheeks.
The epee jerked from the man's leg. The pale man turned to face the girl. "Come here, Elisibeth."
"No!" Shelton cried. "Leave my daughter alone."
"Come here, Elisibeth," the man repeated his order.
Shyly and frightfully, Elisibeth shuffled toward the man. She was in arms lenght of him before anything else happened.
The pale man took a step over to the girl. Kneeling beside her, he cupped her chin in his hand. she shivered at his touch. "Look at me, child."
The man raised her chins and the girl raised her eyes. Their gazes met. "Child, for your sake only, I will spare your father's life. Take heed. Do not grow to be like him. Learn to love all races like your own. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir, I think so."
"Now, foolish man. I have stayed your execution for your daughter's sake, but be warned. If she dies or falls out of your favor, and I learn of it, you death will come, but quickly for her sake. If she grows and turns out to be like you, hateful of other races, and I learn of it, your death will be far worse than if I had killed you tonight, and you will beg for death. I will not be as merciful as to kill you then."
The pale figure stood and walked toward the door. He paused in the doorway, glanced over his shoulder, and said, "Goodnight, Elisibeth."
He stepped into the street, and Elisibeth ran to look out the door, but she saw nothing but moonlight.
The pale man was gone.