Name: Shimeran Hlim
Race: Werepyre
Married to: Sierra Hlim
Age: 623
Personality: None, unless around Sierra
Description: He lost his conscience long ago, and is now an incredibly intelligent and crafty hunter. He is a werepyre, half werewolf, have vampire, which occured after being cursed by the Werepyre King. He is immune to the bite of a vampire as well as that of a werewolf (the effects are already on him), and is also immune to the stake and silver.
Shimeran lives his days in seclusion with his bride, until he has to go to some village and steal a cow or sometimes, a human being, to feed on. Shimeran has wings of a bat with an 8-foot wingspan. He is a massive beast, about 9 feet tall and has four inch front fangs.
Shimeran carries a greatsword that when it scores a successful hit it poisons the enemy with venom. He also uses his claws and teeth as weapons. His fangs will inject venom if they puncture or scrape skin.
Shimeran can fly and is strong enough to where he can lift great feats, the largest object that is recorded of him lifting was a peasant hut.
He is a strong foe, and is an undead creature. The only way to kill Shimeran is stab him in the heart or cut off his head. He does not bleed whatsoever.
Shimeran can stand sunlight, and holy objects and magic only temporarily diminish his poison while he is near them.
He also has all of the vampire and werewolf powers.
The brave human knight gazed at the sunrise, fascinated by its orange glow. His hair flew a bit in the gentle breeze, his sword in its sheath, his shield strapped to his back, and blood splattered on his silver armor. Shimeran Hlim turned to see the battlefield he had fought desperately on minutes ago. He bent down and picked up a helmet, the one his fallen friend had worn. He muttered a black curse to these dead creatures that had attacked his camp, of which he was now the only survivor.
The attack had come without warning in the middle of the night, a group of an unknown race had come with war in mind. They had slain his commander, Derik Tul, first, followed by his long time friend, Jokol. He hated these whatever they were, and he muttered once again a black curse on all of their kind, though no one but the field mice were around to hear it. Even they respectfully kept their distance from Shimeran; nature had a way about those types of things.
Shimeran returned home, to the castle Brisk Strike in the land of Aragithia. He was greeted warmly, called a hero, a monster-slayer, a god. He went to his quarters, where a maid and some stew awaited him. After his meal, he slept for a day, and finally came out to see the toll of the attack on the people. To his surprise, it was a normal day in Brisk Strike, and no one seemed particularly worried about anything other than buying pellell fruits and auctioning off Clemms, a nasty, unintelligent race used for grunt work.
Shimeran went and reported to Yil, the keeper of Brisk Strike, and came back to the marketplace to scan the area for anyone that had no place there: thieves, bargainers, escaped Clemms, and the like. He walked his surroundings until his name was called out. He turned to see Sierra, his fiancée, calling to him. Her long green gown flowed in the breeze, her blonde hair coming to the bottom of her forearms, the familiar scent of blooming flowers in the spring time hung over her. Their wedding was in two months. He briskly walked over and she embraced him, glad to see him safe and sound.
Sierra clasped his hand and tugged him playfully, leading him over to where they could talk. She asked about the attack, he answered, she asked about Jokol, he answered. She was devastated. Joktol was her older brother. She embraced him again, and began sobbing, for him and for her brother.
Later that night, Shimeran was in his quarters when a woman’s scream rang out. It was Sierra. He rushed to her dwelling and burst in to see her lying on the floor, holding her neck, crying and screaming for him. He knelt beside her and held her in his arms, trying desperately to find out what was wrong. He moved her hand away from her neck to see two teeth marks. Shimeran knew immediately: a vampire had come for a meal and punctured her neck. And now she would become… one of them.
Shimeran spoke softly to his love, trying to calm her down. As she stopped screaming, she looked into his eyes and whispered to him, “I… I’m… a…” Shimeran held her close. “No, don’t say it. We’ll fix this, we’ll fix this…” He said it more to himself than her. Tears streamed down her gentle face, and it cut him so deeply he could not help but look away from her. She sobbed all night, and when day finally came, she stopped. Sierra sat up and propped herself up against a wall, with Shimeran’s help. She looked as if the life had literally been sucked from her. Her once joyful smile was now nonexistent, her long blonde hair seemed raggedy, her skin, once a beautiful light tan, was now a dull pale.
“What… do I…” She asked him. He looked at her and took her hand in his. “I will find a way to cure this, Sierra. I will not rest until I do.” Sierra flinched as he said this and looked deep into his eyes. She slowly shook her head in disagreement. “No… it is too late. It… cannot… be cured…” A single tear dropped from the end of her nose. Sierra took her hand away from his and looked at him, her spirits completely destroyed. “Shimeran…” another tear dropped down her cheek. “I can’t stay here.” He knew in his heart that she was right, but he could not, would not, admit it. “No!” He begged her. “No!”
She stood, as did he, and she walked to the door. “No!” Shimeran yelled it this time, no longer begging but demanding. Sierra looked at him one last time. “I love you.” He looked at her, his heart shattered. “No!” He ordered, enraged. She opened the door to step out. “No!” She looked away. “I love you. That is why I must… do this.” Sierra stepped out the door, bawling, Shimeran right behind her. He grabbed hold of her shoulder and spun her around. “I said I must go!” She said in a hiss, baring her fangs. Shimeran let go and took a step back. Sierra stopped. “I… I’m… sorry…” With that she flew off into the midday sky, her body transformed from a girl to a giant bat.
Shimeran quested for years, and finally found a merchant who said he had the cure for vampirism. “But there’s a catch,” he said slyly, “you must allow me to curse you.” Shimeran hastily agreed, and the moment he did the man transformed into an unholy beast, twice the size of Shimeran: a werepyre. Half werewolf, half vampire.
Shimeran stumbled backwards, lying on his back, he was helpless. The creature bent low to his face and muttered. “Hello, human. I am the werepyre king. Welcome to my domain.” With this he breathed on Shimeran, and then he was gone in a flurry of shadows. Shimeran had the cure and now a curse; he only had to find his love, after all these years. He smelled the familiar aroma of spring flowers, and followed it, coming upon a large cave. He entered it to see his long lost love. Her beauty had returned to her, her hair was long and blonde as it had been, her lightly tanned skin; her eyes had the life in them they once did.
Sierra jumped from a ledge to meet Shimeran, and they embraced and there were tears on both sides. But before long Sierra remembered her curse, and she backed away. “You shouldn’t have come.” Shimeran held up the bottle full of liquid. “I have a cure for you! You can be normal again!” Her eyes lit up with fury. “Normal?! Why would I want to be normal?! I am immortal now, Shimeran!” Shimeran gasped. “No, you’re just undead! There’s a difference!” She frowned at him. “No, no, there is no difference. I am immortal!” Shimeran fell to his knees, shocked. “But…” She let out a sneer. “You thought for years I wanted help? I am not the one who needs help, dear. In fact, it’s quite near my mealtime!”
She stepped over to him and knelt beside him. “Are you hungry?” Shimeran couldn’t look at her. He was destroyed inside. She raised one eyebrow and stroked his chin with her hand. “What’s wrong?” She took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” She asked again, a flicker of red in her own eyes. Shimeran knew what she was trying. She was trying to seduce him with her powers, and she had no idea that he, now a werepyre, could not be affected by them. But he could entrance her with his combined powers, werewolf and vampire.
He put his hand on hers, and played along. “I quested for years for you, to cure you.” She smiled, thinking her power had worked. “Oh dear, I don’t need a cure, all I need is you.” Sierra embraced Shimeran, and he knew what she was preparing to do. “Only… me?” He replied, acting as if he was hypnotized. “Yessss, of course, only you.” She hissed. She leaned closer to him. “Only… me.” He said again.
She leaned in close to hold him, preparing to bite his neck. “Or are you after my blood?” He half-asked. Sierra had almost no time to gasp as Shimeran bit down into Sierra’s neck. He let go and stood as she gasped for breath. The combined bite and his vampiric power of seduction would entrance her, returning her mind to the way it once was. “I love you.” Shimeran said. Sierra looked at him, the wonderful look of love in her eyes once again. "I love you too," she replied.
She stood next to her love, and he transformed into his ferocious werepyre side. He took her in his arms and flew to a small town to the north, landing just outside it, and transformed back. "Now we will be forever together." Shimeran said as he led her to a chapel. That night they were married.
Shimeran took his bride with him and they settled outside of civilization, in the caverns they had been in before. Shimeran journeys all over the land to find another cure for he and his love, as does she...
Race: Werepyre
Married to: Sierra Hlim
Age: 623
Personality: None, unless around Sierra
Description: He lost his conscience long ago, and is now an incredibly intelligent and crafty hunter. He is a werepyre, half werewolf, have vampire, which occured after being cursed by the Werepyre King. He is immune to the bite of a vampire as well as that of a werewolf (the effects are already on him), and is also immune to the stake and silver.
Shimeran lives his days in seclusion with his bride, until he has to go to some village and steal a cow or sometimes, a human being, to feed on. Shimeran has wings of a bat with an 8-foot wingspan. He is a massive beast, about 9 feet tall and has four inch front fangs.
Shimeran carries a greatsword that when it scores a successful hit it poisons the enemy with venom. He also uses his claws and teeth as weapons. His fangs will inject venom if they puncture or scrape skin.
Shimeran can fly and is strong enough to where he can lift great feats, the largest object that is recorded of him lifting was a peasant hut.
He is a strong foe, and is an undead creature. The only way to kill Shimeran is stab him in the heart or cut off his head. He does not bleed whatsoever.
Shimeran can stand sunlight, and holy objects and magic only temporarily diminish his poison while he is near them.
He also has all of the vampire and werewolf powers.
The brave human knight gazed at the sunrise, fascinated by its orange glow. His hair flew a bit in the gentle breeze, his sword in its sheath, his shield strapped to his back, and blood splattered on his silver armor. Shimeran Hlim turned to see the battlefield he had fought desperately on minutes ago. He bent down and picked up a helmet, the one his fallen friend had worn. He muttered a black curse to these dead creatures that had attacked his camp, of which he was now the only survivor.
The attack had come without warning in the middle of the night, a group of an unknown race had come with war in mind. They had slain his commander, Derik Tul, first, followed by his long time friend, Jokol. He hated these whatever they were, and he muttered once again a black curse on all of their kind, though no one but the field mice were around to hear it. Even they respectfully kept their distance from Shimeran; nature had a way about those types of things.
Shimeran returned home, to the castle Brisk Strike in the land of Aragithia. He was greeted warmly, called a hero, a monster-slayer, a god. He went to his quarters, where a maid and some stew awaited him. After his meal, he slept for a day, and finally came out to see the toll of the attack on the people. To his surprise, it was a normal day in Brisk Strike, and no one seemed particularly worried about anything other than buying pellell fruits and auctioning off Clemms, a nasty, unintelligent race used for grunt work.
Shimeran went and reported to Yil, the keeper of Brisk Strike, and came back to the marketplace to scan the area for anyone that had no place there: thieves, bargainers, escaped Clemms, and the like. He walked his surroundings until his name was called out. He turned to see Sierra, his fiancée, calling to him. Her long green gown flowed in the breeze, her blonde hair coming to the bottom of her forearms, the familiar scent of blooming flowers in the spring time hung over her. Their wedding was in two months. He briskly walked over and she embraced him, glad to see him safe and sound.
Sierra clasped his hand and tugged him playfully, leading him over to where they could talk. She asked about the attack, he answered, she asked about Jokol, he answered. She was devastated. Joktol was her older brother. She embraced him again, and began sobbing, for him and for her brother.
Later that night, Shimeran was in his quarters when a woman’s scream rang out. It was Sierra. He rushed to her dwelling and burst in to see her lying on the floor, holding her neck, crying and screaming for him. He knelt beside her and held her in his arms, trying desperately to find out what was wrong. He moved her hand away from her neck to see two teeth marks. Shimeran knew immediately: a vampire had come for a meal and punctured her neck. And now she would become… one of them.
Shimeran spoke softly to his love, trying to calm her down. As she stopped screaming, she looked into his eyes and whispered to him, “I… I’m… a…” Shimeran held her close. “No, don’t say it. We’ll fix this, we’ll fix this…” He said it more to himself than her. Tears streamed down her gentle face, and it cut him so deeply he could not help but look away from her. She sobbed all night, and when day finally came, she stopped. Sierra sat up and propped herself up against a wall, with Shimeran’s help. She looked as if the life had literally been sucked from her. Her once joyful smile was now nonexistent, her long blonde hair seemed raggedy, her skin, once a beautiful light tan, was now a dull pale.
“What… do I…” She asked him. He looked at her and took her hand in his. “I will find a way to cure this, Sierra. I will not rest until I do.” Sierra flinched as he said this and looked deep into his eyes. She slowly shook her head in disagreement. “No… it is too late. It… cannot… be cured…” A single tear dropped from the end of her nose. Sierra took her hand away from his and looked at him, her spirits completely destroyed. “Shimeran…” another tear dropped down her cheek. “I can’t stay here.” He knew in his heart that she was right, but he could not, would not, admit it. “No!” He begged her. “No!”
She stood, as did he, and she walked to the door. “No!” Shimeran yelled it this time, no longer begging but demanding. Sierra looked at him one last time. “I love you.” He looked at her, his heart shattered. “No!” He ordered, enraged. She opened the door to step out. “No!” She looked away. “I love you. That is why I must… do this.” Sierra stepped out the door, bawling, Shimeran right behind her. He grabbed hold of her shoulder and spun her around. “I said I must go!” She said in a hiss, baring her fangs. Shimeran let go and took a step back. Sierra stopped. “I… I’m… sorry…” With that she flew off into the midday sky, her body transformed from a girl to a giant bat.
Shimeran quested for years, and finally found a merchant who said he had the cure for vampirism. “But there’s a catch,” he said slyly, “you must allow me to curse you.” Shimeran hastily agreed, and the moment he did the man transformed into an unholy beast, twice the size of Shimeran: a werepyre. Half werewolf, half vampire.
Shimeran stumbled backwards, lying on his back, he was helpless. The creature bent low to his face and muttered. “Hello, human. I am the werepyre king. Welcome to my domain.” With this he breathed on Shimeran, and then he was gone in a flurry of shadows. Shimeran had the cure and now a curse; he only had to find his love, after all these years. He smelled the familiar aroma of spring flowers, and followed it, coming upon a large cave. He entered it to see his long lost love. Her beauty had returned to her, her hair was long and blonde as it had been, her lightly tanned skin; her eyes had the life in them they once did.
Sierra jumped from a ledge to meet Shimeran, and they embraced and there were tears on both sides. But before long Sierra remembered her curse, and she backed away. “You shouldn’t have come.” Shimeran held up the bottle full of liquid. “I have a cure for you! You can be normal again!” Her eyes lit up with fury. “Normal?! Why would I want to be normal?! I am immortal now, Shimeran!” Shimeran gasped. “No, you’re just undead! There’s a difference!” She frowned at him. “No, no, there is no difference. I am immortal!” Shimeran fell to his knees, shocked. “But…” She let out a sneer. “You thought for years I wanted help? I am not the one who needs help, dear. In fact, it’s quite near my mealtime!”
She stepped over to him and knelt beside him. “Are you hungry?” Shimeran couldn’t look at her. He was destroyed inside. She raised one eyebrow and stroked his chin with her hand. “What’s wrong?” She took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” She asked again, a flicker of red in her own eyes. Shimeran knew what she was trying. She was trying to seduce him with her powers, and she had no idea that he, now a werepyre, could not be affected by them. But he could entrance her with his combined powers, werewolf and vampire.
He put his hand on hers, and played along. “I quested for years for you, to cure you.” She smiled, thinking her power had worked. “Oh dear, I don’t need a cure, all I need is you.” Sierra embraced Shimeran, and he knew what she was preparing to do. “Only… me?” He replied, acting as if he was hypnotized. “Yessss, of course, only you.” She hissed. She leaned closer to him. “Only… me.” He said again.
She leaned in close to hold him, preparing to bite his neck. “Or are you after my blood?” He half-asked. Sierra had almost no time to gasp as Shimeran bit down into Sierra’s neck. He let go and stood as she gasped for breath. The combined bite and his vampiric power of seduction would entrance her, returning her mind to the way it once was. “I love you.” Shimeran said. Sierra looked at him, the wonderful look of love in her eyes once again. "I love you too," she replied.
She stood next to her love, and he transformed into his ferocious werepyre side. He took her in his arms and flew to a small town to the north, landing just outside it, and transformed back. "Now we will be forever together." Shimeran said as he led her to a chapel. That night they were married.
Shimeran took his bride with him and they settled outside of civilization, in the caverns they had been in before. Shimeran journeys all over the land to find another cure for he and his love, as does she...
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