Welcome~

BellaMorte is a Bloodlines Clan in Second Life. Any member will tell you that it is actually far more then "just" a clan. We have been a group since July of 2009, and only now at nearly the end of 2011 am I getting around to creation of a way to track the history of the clan online. Please note that many postings here will be written in part by others who are members of the clan.


~King Jisper Darkfold

Monday, November 7, 2011

Jisper's Tale, Part 1

By way of introduction, this is not my full history, rather it is the lead into it.  It explains my formation and character, but does not detail more pressing matters.  This is because there are other threads that need to be woven in before I continue. 
~Duke Jisper Darkfold



Asia, after 1600

Many times Amil's path over the centuries are unmarked by the records. While he remained “free” on the lands the Church could not recall him to service. So he wandered the world from place to place, leaving track of his passage only by the occasional strange happenstance of one of his victims rising again with ravenous hunger of their own. These individuals did not always last long, as some places where he had passed before were already familiar with his kind. Or he moved through the territories of others who had been changed by one like him but unrelated to him. Some places he found very difficult to hide, and these locations he did not stay long. Other places he knew well and would spend years. And yet, his path slowly took him to the Far East and somehow he found himself wandering the isles of Japan. Here it was impossible to hide, so he was forever on the move. He might have believed himself to be the only supernatural being. He might have become careless with his success. Or he simply might have lost his mind....

Once night be chanced upon a mist shrouded valley which was the home to a single old woodcutter. He might have intended to take this man as he was near the end of his life anyway. He might simply been mad with hunger. He failed to overlook that this man had a large long tailed black cat. This cat had been very well taken care of, and was something the old woodcutter was very attached to. He often wished that he had a family, well not a family per say, but a son, someone to leave his possessions to. As it was the woodcutter only had the cat.

The force of the old man's desires and the goodwill he had shown his beloved cat came together just as Amil moved in for the kill. And this would be his doom, for his bound soul would be recalled to the Church where the “Reaper” would once more find himself chained to the will of clergy.

This is about when I find myself becoming more of a narrator then I might have liked, but only because I am speaking from personal experience. One thing is certain, we are molded by our pasts, formed into what we are by the experiences we have endured. Jumping ahead of myself, I should state that I write this not as a continual process, or even in starts and fits, but rather looking back on it now that my life, or undeath, has become stable enough for me to feel that I have the time to devote to doing the work.

So here is my tale, and read it as you will. I know there is much I am unaware of.

'Your appearance reminds me of the possibility of your essence incorporating the characteristics and ... adaptation of the habits of several different creatures. This could also incorporate your thirst for blood. That is what I had thought when i saw your original rendition of what you would be as a vampire. I immediately thought of an accidental mesh of things that somewhat upset a balance of nature. Nature would do anything to right what came into the world by supernatural means. That explained your appearance, strengths, and weaknesses. A hunter, but one that is foreign to the world.' -- Yannyth Uriza, Baron of BellaMorte

The words of my Minion, formulated as he attempted to make sense of what his eyes were telling him... hits on one very important fact. I am a supernatural creature. Even when "alive" I was not human. I have never been. But this world hides things in its bosom that most mortals never see. Creatures of legend and fable. I began my existence is a Bakeneko. If you have no idea what that is let me tell you this – I have much cat in me, and this colors my existence.

Long before my own tale started, another's not only nearly ended, but took on a new life and a new direction that would be forever woven within my own. Half a world away and who knows how many mortal years preceding, a dark insane creature took the soul of a dying man and left his childe to burn in the sunlight. This creature, this darkness, would flee from the holy man ascending the mountain. Somehow this cursed being made his way on foot across the land, and eventually to his doom.

Let me explain.

The man who does feature so strongly in my tale believes his mortal life was ended in the middle of the sixteenth century. He knew that he left behind his old life totally, with a new name, in 1615. He roamed far and wide, following the pull of what he had lost, unaware that it was this thing that he was drawn by. His path may not have taken him a direct route, but it did steadily lead him closer and closer to the place where his sire, foul as he was, fell for the last time.

How did this happen, you might wonder? Well, Bakeneko usually appear to serve a human. If the cat they transform from was taken good care of then the spirit that arises from it seeks to provide benefits for its caretaker. They are considered Lucky Bakeneko.

If, on the other hand, the cat is neglected or treated poorly, the spirit will take revenge in horrible and horrifying ways. In some cases the evil spirit may bring ruin and death down upon the caretaker and the family that neglected it so.

My own birth was mixed. As a cat I'd been well cared for. But my first memories were that of destruction. Because if this I have a very loyal kind core with an extremely violent and sometimes insane ability to lose control when those I care for are threatened. I am yet touched by the madness of my birth, as my tale will reveal.

I came to be in a fog shrouded and mostly inaccessible valley, one of the sort of places that time tends to overlook in its march. It was rather the point of awareness for me, where I transformed from a mere cat into a supernatural creature. My tame as a cat, when I struggle to remember back that far, was simple, and while the woodcutter was not wealthy, he did provide for me – I had a dry warm place, plenty of food, and much affection.

That moment of awareness leaves me in a state of confusion. At the time I was unsure of what had happened. There was blood and flames. I recall catching a glimpse of the life fleeing from the eyes of the kind old woodcutter and feeling anger. The attacker had not gone far. Perhaps my awareness and the loss of this individual are entwined with that of my current existence as a Vampire. Perhaps not. I do not recall much about this original human. I believe, looking back, that he was a wood cutter, poor and alone. And I am fairly sure he wished for a son instead of a daughter or a wife. I sprung forth on the power of his dying wish, to fire. I awoke just in time to avenge the death of the old woodsman whom I would have called 'father'.

Bakeneko are not indestructible, if the attacker knows what he or she is doing. Simply put, we can be banished or forced back to the aether from which we spring. My drive to extract revenge and sudden appearance caused the stranger to mindlessly turn on me, and I suppose the insane growl made him believe he had every right to defend himself. He, however, had the disadvantage of not knowing what this newly formed creature confronting him was, and while I also did not know what he was, I was far more lucky then my opponent. My fury fueled a power and affinity for the flames licking around me that would have burnt out the entire valley in an inferno – had he not proven quite easy to eradicate in this manner. The horrible evil being went up like he was made of lamp oil... and in a fit of madness I consumed whatever did not burn...

And this action in a moment of insanity would shape me from that point on. I developed a sensitivity for otherworldly beings. While my nature by creation was one of domestic helpfulness it was shadowed by the need to stalk, hunt, and consume what I killed. I cared little if it was animal or human – perhaps I was a little mad still. The valley gained a reputation for being haunted by a spirit that struck without warning, bringing some great fortune and others total annihilation. In this state, many seasons passed – And then something changed.

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