Bloodlines

The wind whistles past my ears, its sound comparable to the shrieking of banshees, as I watch the courtyard from far above. The Guard recruits are training today under the instruction of famed Guard Captain Sir Frederic Kulbran. I watch as the Guard Captain corrects the mistaken and punishes the foolish, moving around the courtyard, coming ever closer. He is a highly disciplined and respectable soldier, known for his tactical genius and great aim with a rifle. Too bad he has to die. He is finally directly beneath me at last and with his back to me as well. I quickly calculate the approximate distance to him, then jump of the tower I was located on, 30 meter above the courtyard. I aim myself so that I land directly on the Captain, instantly breaking his back with a sickening crunch. I see one of the recruits try and run for help so I rush to intercept him, running at full speed my body is like a blur of black, and I catch up and ram into him instantly. As we fall to the ground my fangs extend and I clamp onto his neck. He screams in terror and pain as I drain his blood, when he finally dies mere moments later I tear my fangs out of his dead flesh and jump into standing position, drawing my Rapier as I do so. The recruits have managed to get some properly trained Guards to the Courtyard. I watch the barely hidden fear in their eyes and body movements and smile to myself. I was trained to take advantage of the natural fear that humans feel of my kind, and I allow myself to go into a combat stance designed to do just that. My eyes change from their normal shape and dark green iris colour to slitted pupils like that of a cat's and blood red iris. The darkness of the moonless night grows thicker and extinguishes the nearby torches as it slowly moves toward my body as if it was a snake slithering along the ground and when it reaches me the shadows cover me in a protective armour of pure black. Snake-like shadows come out of the back of the armour, hissing and snapping at the Guards, acid like venom natural to living shadows falling onto the ground with a quiet burning sound. I start chanting in the vampiric language to focus my mind so I can cast spells, slowly moving my hands and fingers in complex patterns in order to weave the arcane threads of the world into something I can use. I finish preparing for the combat just as the Guards get within striking distance, my already shadow wreathed body now covered in lighnting, magical poison dripping from my slim blade and my left arm finishing in a spike of ice covering my hand and most of the arm. One of the Guards roars in rage and slashes his massive greatsword towards me but before it can hit me I jump into the air and land on his sword, running along it towards him and then kicking him in the face as I jump off only to twist around in midair and send dozens of small, barely two inches long shards of ice at him from my left hand moments before I land.