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Two pairs of eyes like rubies locked across a crowded ballroom and all the other people, in their glittering gowns and sparkling jewellery, faded away. The reclusive Lord Cazador on a rare appearance outside of his grand mansion started towards her, Araj of House Oblodra - gone but never forgotten. She could see why he kept himself locked away - perfect like a marble statue, too precious to share with the world. His movements revealed him for what he was. A predator. He could not hide it from her. His beautiful eyes, his warning teeth. Her heart raced as their fingers entwined.
Araj's fingers played with the pendant on her necklace, a cheap yet utterly priceless trinket. Safe by her heart. Cazador smiled at her, his sharp fangs flashing and she swooned into his arms.
"My lord," she breathed as he loomed over her. "Take of me. Let me feel you pierce my flesh."
"You are something quite intriguing," he replied, watching her as he pulled her closer. "You would offer your blood to me?"
"Lord Cazador," she purred, "I have so much to offer."
He bore down on her, pain flaring so deliciously as his teeth sunk deep into her neck.
Everything was different. Araj's eyes saw the world in a million new colours; she could smell them on the air. The soft drum of a living heartbeat across a room pressed against her skin, tempting, inviting. Araj loved the chill of her new body, the way her fangs sat comfortably in her mouth always ready and waiting.
Cazador had gazed deep into her face when she woke after death, and as he stroked her cheek he whispered: "Your eyes have not changed."
Of course they hadn't. This all felt so right. Araj was finally who she was meant to be.
Cazador's voice compelled her and it set her cold blood alight. The way her body moved to his whims, the way they danced and laughed and she felt his power in her. She had been chosen by a being of such power. His favourite plaything, soon to be his consort eternal. They would do such wonderful things together.
She giggled as he commanded her onto the bed and her limbs were forced to follow. She couldn't wriggle away even if she wanted to. His puppet. Cazador took her blood and body as his own, and she was lost to ecstasy.
The servants swarmed around as they planned for the big day, and Araj sighed as she relaxed on her divan. Cazador was no where to be seen, of course, off playing with his spawn in the dungeon. She didn't really see the point in it. He wasn't doing experiments or trying to learn anything from them, just a boy playing with toys. She was right there - he could play with her instead! But no, she was left to deal with the details of the wedding while her Lord Cazador amused himself the same way he did every day. She sighed.
"But what is the plan after you ascend?" Araj asked, following Cazador as he stalked away. "Silk, you gain all this power but to do what with it?"
"I shall be the most powerful lord in all of Baldur's Gate!"
"So you're going to overthrow the Archduke?" she insisted, a flutter of hope in her gut.
He spun, face twisting like she was a bad smell. "What? Of course not. I live behind the scenes, pulling the strings."
"Pulling the strings to get what?"
As Cazador compelled her away, she growled in frustration. More balls. More schmoozing nobles. No point.
He's been in Baldur's Gate how long?
Araj's mouth hung slack as she tried and failed to hide her shock. Cazador had been a lord in this city for over two hundred years and had what to show for it? A cellar of spawn that he wasn't doing anything with, just rotting down there while he waited for this ceremony? And what for? More balls? More bureaucracy? He had so much power and craved more, but didn't want to do anything with it. Like a little yappy dog, nipping at an orc's heels. The orc stops walking and then what?
Cazador lay upon his bed, eyes closed, peaceful. Araj watched him fondly. How promising he had been that first night. That night when she realised what he was. That beautiful and mysterious man. Raw power.
Such a disappointment. She played with the little pendant at her neck. Always close, safe by her heart. Her fingers found the weak spot, and she pressed her claw-like nail inside, shattering the necklace.
Magic washed over her. Her contingency plan. Protection from Evil sunk into her bones, and Cazador's compulsion left her mind. Araj lifted the stake and the hammer.
"Goodbye, my unambitious love."
Araj staggered as she threw the solid stone sarcophagus lid to the ground. It clattered across the dais, the rumble of it echoing around the cavern. Cazador's eyes opened, stricken.
"Araj," he breathed, "what have you-?"
"I'm sorry, darling," she purred. "It just hurt too much to see all this squandered." Araj raised the bloodied stake again. It would work this time, weakened and in his coffin. This would be the end.
The horror fell from his face, anger consuming his features. "Stop."
"Oh love," she said with a smile, canting her head. "Did you think I wouldn't take precautions?"
The glittering lights of Menzoberranzan shimmered in the gloomy distance, and Araj's heart soared. Home, after over a century. Her great House lost to the depths of the Clawrift. If only she'd had the strength and power all those years ago. She could have stopped it all from ever happening.
Well, now she had it.
Cazador's blood had tasted so sweet upon her lips, and his power even sweeter in her veins. The vampire lord grinned over her shoulder, to where her army of seven thousand spawn stood ready. A final gift from her love.
House Oblodra would rise again.