Was made for the contest. Pls like - my gallery-. tx - Xolroi 1805 Aztec Vampire vs Werewolf PaiThan Fanfic 2024 A small rowboat creaks under the weight of two men. A rower receives some Francs. A cloaked figure steps onto the beach, looking up at the moon, which hangs low and has a red hue. The man paused and takes some deep breaths of the cool night air, heavy with the scent of the sea. It is Xolroi, the vampire with an Aztec history. "France again... the land of cheese and escargots. Cheese! How can anyone stand to consume such a revolting substance? It clings to the tongue and air like a curse. And those escargots..." He shivered at the thought. Quickly, he flashjumps to Le Havre, a city near the beach. There he checks in at an old worn out inn. Via the roofs Xolroi carefully checks his new surroundings. Napoleon's soldiers are indeed patrolling the pier and city. Just as Xolroi expected. Xolroi looks at the moon; his informant should be near the church by now. With another flash jump, Xolroi heads to his new destination. If the information is correct he will meet an old man named René there. He will tell him more about the French situation, Napoleon and most important his target: General Alejandro de la Cruz. A werewolf, a General to be precise: a Spanish conquistador. The conquistador that raided his Aztec village and slaughtered all his family members in the late 15th century. As Xolroi arrives at the shadowy corner near the church, he senses a shift in the air, an unsettling chill that prickles at the back of his neck. Something feels off. His instincts, honed over centuries of survival, scream at him to be cautious. He pauses, scanning the area. The moonlight casts long shadows, and the faint sound of footsteps echoes in the distance. Instead of the familiar form of a human, Xolroi spots figures lurking behind the pillars of the church, their eyes glinting in the dim light. Waiting. "Werewolves!" Xolroi thinks, filled with utter disdain. "Was I betrayed?" he muses, the thought igniting a flicker of anger within him. It was too easy. Too predictable. He remembers whispers of Napoleon’s growing power and the werewolf General's influence. It dawns on him that this meeting was not merely a chance encounter but a carefully orchestrated trap, likely set by the General's spies to lure him into the open. Xolroi silently takes a few steps back, blending into the shadows. But it was already too late. The moment Xolroi merges deeper into the shadows, the air bursts into violence. With swift motions, the werewolves spring from their hiding spots and launch their attack on the vampire. Their eyes blaze with an ancient hate for his species and Xolroi's instincts kick in. He unsheathes an ancient Aztec dagger from beneath his cloak, its blade reflecting the moonlight. "Come then," he hisses, his voice low and steady. The werewolves attack in a frenzied wave. Xolroi dances between them, a whirlwind of precise strikes and swift movements. Each time he lands a blow, another werewolf reverts to its human form, revealing their cursed fate. As the last wolf falls, Xolroi quickly scans the chaos around him for a clue. He finds a piece of parchment, reads it and decides not to return to the inn; Instead, he flashjumps straight to Paris. Upon arriving in Paris, Xolroi goes straight to Montmartre. There, he visits an old friend and senior vampire Marquis Théodore D'Aubigny. An old royal, who survived the revolution thanks to his powerful vampire abilities. His senior tells him the latest facts about Napoleon and some interesting rumours about the werewolves. There were many werewolves in France now, in the midst of a territorial war with the vampires." he says, his fan moving with a lazy but deliberate rhythm. At this moment, the church had sided with the werewolves. This was because Spain's royal house had as well. The appearance of Conquistador General Alejandro de la Cruz in Paris was proof of that." Théodore explains while aerating with his fan. Xolroi raises an eyebrow. "Quite strange, Napoleon is a threat to Spain." Xolroi states puzzled. "It's because werewolves are vulnerable to silver." Théodore replies with a shrug. "The church believes it can control them better than it can control us. Which, of course, is true. Werewolves are nothing more than rabid dogs." The Marquis presumptuous states. While delicately fanning himself, Théodore leans in slightly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "There’s a Dutch weapons and silk trader in Paris," Marquis D'Aubigny begins with a mysterious tone, flipping his fan with a flourish. Xolroi plays along with the dramatic Marquis and comes closer too. "A trader who’s risen to prominence with shocking speed, gaining the favour of the city's most influential members in mere months." He pauses for effect, his fan fluttering dramatically. "He is seen with the werewolves... Quite suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?" Théodore concludes with a sly, amused grin. "Let's start looking into that suspicious Dutch trader," Xolroi says while stealing the fan from the Marquis. "Silk and woman, to rise that quickly; he must be quite popular with the ladies. So let's attend a ball," his senior eagerly, longing for the old times, suggests. "A ball attended by the nouveaux riches, for the royalties have met the guillotine years ago." Xolroi remarks with a wry smile. "The balls are now attended by mostly werewolves." We vampires, old royals, have been unwelcome since the revolution." Théodore states dramatic with a sigh while stealing the fan back. Xolroi twisted a finger around his braid, "So the best opportunity would be a masked ball," he said, still fidgeting playfully with his hair. "But of course, our vampire community remains strong, and my network is as active as ever!" Théodore exclaims with a smile. And with that, he rang a bell, summoning his butler, to whom he gave a list of tasks. "Let's dine now." Théodore decides. And shortly after Xolroi is presented with an exquisite dinner and a drink fresh from the vein. Extravagant, as if the revolution had never happened. Shortly after dinner, the butler notifies that all tasks are fulfilled, and he delivers the reports. "Tomorrow, Napoleon’s wife Joséphine will host a masked ball to celebrate the success of her heated orangery and the birth of her new greenhouse at Château de Malmaison." senior reports while browsing through the reports. "Château de Malmaison is near the river Seine. I can also check for any suspicious activity at the warehouses nearby." Xolroi relates. Théodore suddenly steps up. "I have some nifty little jewels that can help tomorrow," Théodore says happily while walking to an old chest. There he picks out some expensive looking amulets. He gives one to Xolroi. "Ugh!" Xolroi exclaims. "It reeks!" "Yes, it does. It stinks just like the werewolves!" "Wear this amulet and these fancy glasses, and no werewolf will suspect you're a vampire." Théodore explains with a smile while handling the glasses. Château de Malmaison had gone through quite a few renovations since Joséphine bought it, and it was once again a sight to behold. The ball took place both inside and outside the castle, offering guests the chance to admire and envy the exotic flowers and fruits in the orangery. In the garden, Joséphine's exotic animals, such as kangaroos, emus, gazelles, and ostriches, were set to graze for the night’s entertainment. Burners were placed all around the gardens and a group of acrobatic entertainers was stationed by the new greenhouse. In the centre of the garden's maze was a gazebo and for tonight it was occupied with some entertainers with the knowledge of the pleasures of the night. Both males decide there was nothing suspicious to see; all looked festive just as a ball should look like. With a series of flashjumps, Xolroi and Théodore entered the château unnoticed, slipping past the guards without an invitation. They quickly mingled among the already gathered guests. The ballroom was alive with music, laughter, food and the swish of elegant silk gowns. Xolroi, ever mindful of his appearance, wore the finest silk and lace. His porcelain mask, shaped like an owl, was large enough to cover most of his face, hiding his distinctively coloured glasses beneath. If Xolroi turned heads, then Théodore commanded the room. His attire could not be more extravagant or exquisite dressed than this, silk, lace, ribbons, pearls and even tiny diamonds adorned him. Not even kings in their prime would have dared to dress with such bold extravagance. Théodore looked fabulous. Although the orchestra's music was loud, Xolroi and Théodore moved gracefully among the guests and could still overhear snippets of conversation with their batlike senses. A laughter here, a suggestive touch there, an adroit remark here; the kings of the ballroom were in their element. Xolroi noticed a group of soldiers feasting and approached them, while Théodore made his way to the garden to join a group of women admiring the kangaroos. The sergeant inside the castle was already drunk. The sergeant was just boasting about the fact that the Spanish General had solidified their position in the city. "With the church on our side, those vampires won't stand a chance!” The sergeant laughed while drinking some more Cognac. Xolroi mirrored their behaviour and ordered Cognac as well. The amulet was doing its job; Xolroi smelled just like a werewolf. Not one werewolf in the group noticed that he was a vampire. Some dumb jokes about vampires, more wine, and some friendly shoulder claps; Xolroi was mingling in the werewolf group. Another soldier added: "and we even get more and better weapons from the Dutch trader." "Yeah!" "Over two days we are undefeatable!" another soldier adds boastful. Xolroi was quite pleased, for this ball was fruitful. He only needed to hear where the weapon deal would be struck. Suddenly his gaze landed on General Alejandro de la Cruz. The General was flanked by loyal elite werewolves. The alpha wolf was exuding an air of dominance. Xolroi clenched his jaw, his instincts screaming at him to confront the man who had caused him so much grief. A flashback hit Xolroi; the screams of his people, the scent of blood, and the horror of witnessing his loved ones slaughtered by General Alejandro de la Cruz and his soldiers. Xolroi still remembered Alejandro's revelling face during the destruction of his Aztec village. Xolroi muttered to himself, 'Just one chance...' while battling the urge to attack the murderer. Xolroi was not a fledgling vampire but a veteran and he got himself in control again. He turned his attention back to the sergeant, keeping up the facade of interest and amusement. As the sergeant rambled on, Xolroi decided that this group was already too drunk with their nonsensical fart jokes to give him more information. His attention drifted to the balcony, where the Dutch trader was having fun with a group of men and women. Xolroi could see why the man was so popular by the nouveau riche. The trader was well-dressed, striking in appearance, and of course, possessed the typical Dutch build. He towered above the crowd with his large Dutch build. Xolroi decided to join the trader’s group. With effortless ease, he slid into the circle, as if he had an immediate connection with the Dutch trader. He caught himself flirting with the man. "Had he, like the soldiers, drunk too much?" Xolroi wondered. Suddenly, his eyes caught General Alejandro de la Cruz walking toward the Dutchman’s group. Again the urge for vengeance surged within Xolroi. This time like molten lava threatening to erupt. Then, without warning, a large arm landed on his shoulder. It was the Dutchman, leading both of them away from the group. Without a word, the trader guided them toward the library. The Dutchman guided both into the library, moving with such ease, it feels as if he already knows exactly where the library is hidden within the château. Upon arriving, it immediately becomes evident that Joséphine's interests extend far beyond exotic plants. The library is well-maintained, and the renovations Joséphine made after acquiring the château are clear in every elegant detail. As they browse the shelves, the grandeur of Joséphine's collection becomes apparent. The quality and sheer number of rare books is extraordinaire. It’s obvious Joséphine is a woman of remarkable intellect. Xolroi and the Dutchman reach a section gated off from the rest of the library. Xolroi uses his magic to break the lock, revealing a hidden trove of books on non-human species. Both men look over the spines of ancient texts, their hands gently brushing the worn leather covers. Works that had survived centuries; their pages delicate but well cared for. One spine piques Xolroi’s interest, and just as he reaches for it, the Dutchman’s hand reaches out at the same time. Their fingers touch, and a brief, charged silence follows. The mood becomes suddenly intense; the air between them thickens with unspoken words. It becomes clear to both that there’s something more between them. Xolroi contemplates how dangerous and captivating the Dutchman was. The Dutchman got the book first and starts to read. "Ancient,” the Dutchman muttered softly under his breath, his eyes scanning the pages. “There are accounts of werewolves." Powers, weaknesses...” He paused, his fingers tracing over the text. “Binding rituals." "This one... could be useful.” he adds softly, more to himself than to Xolroi. Xolroi’s gaze narrowed. The words were old, nearly indecipherable to the untrained eye, yet the Dutchman could read it all with ease. A sharp pang of suspicion tugged at Xolroi’s thoughts. Is he truly an human? After reading the content the Dutchman gave the book to Xolroi. The mysterious binding spell could indeed be handy and for Xolroi who's well known with magic, the spell was not all too difficult to perform. Dutchman also discovers scrolls outlining werewolf weaknesses, though most are already known to both men. Xolroi gazed out of the library’s tall windows; the night was still deep. Silver streams of moonlight cascade over the Dutchman’s blond hair. Xolroi noticed he was not looking into the books anymore. His gaze was fixed on the handsome face of the Dutchman. A stray strand of hair lay over the man's eye and before Xolroi realised he reached out and adjusted the strand. The Dutchman looked down at Xolroi. Xolroi was not small, but he stood a head shorter than the Dutchman, who stepped closer. "This is not the time nor place." he whispered. Yet his face did not go back to the books. Yet his hand placed the book back onto the shelf and went to Xolroi's face. The Dutchman's hand starts to caress Xolroi's long, native-looking black braid, hanging down on the side. Both pair of eyes became hopeful and anticipating. Both faces came closer and their breaths starts synchronising as the distance between them disappears. “Bang!” The library doors swing open with a sudden clatter. “Oh Pierre!” giggles a woman, her laughter echoing through the room. Both man rushed out the forbidden book section and hid behind a large bookshelf. And while the couple were passionately romantically involved with each other, both males snuck out of the library. With a subtle nod of farewell both males part ways and leave the château. Hidden near the château, Xolroi thought about his next step. Only a few hours remained before sunrise. By now Théodore should be back at his home. The coach which transported the Dutchman was out of sight. Xolroi flashjumped to the warehouses by the Seine, for there was still time enough left to check them before sunrise. One of them should have the crates with weapons for the werewolves aiding Napoleon. The soldiers were boasting they would get them from the Dutchman during the ball in two days. Xolroi had not discovered where the deal would be take place. The Dutchman was very charming, but of course, not to be trusted. Xolroi landed on a roof of one of many warehouses. As always the Seine's waterfront was bursting with activity. The small inns and cafés were full with laughing and boasting guests. France was at war with Great Britain so there were some guards controlling the river ships with goods from Le Havre and Honfleur. Other than that there was nothing suspicious to notice. Xolroi decided to sneak in the warehouse. Quickly, Xolroi passed unseen by the workers and opened a few crates. After that he flashjumped back to the roof and checked the next warehouse. And like this, Xolroi checked many warehouses till the point he must make a decision about what to do next. The sun would rise in about half an hour. Xolroi decided to check quick two more warehouses before going back to Théodore. If he could not find the right warehouse today, he had still tomorrow evening to check with Théodore the others. The next warehouse surprises Xolroi for he saw the Dutchman ordering workers and the men were calling him Major. The workers or Dutch soldiers were carrying chests with apparently silver. Joséphine had made order for it. Was the silver a protection against inflation or to make ammunition against werewolves? The weapons for the werewolves aiding Napoleon were in the same warehouse. That was the shipment Xolroi wanted to destroy. But after listening some more Xolroi, discovered most of the weapons were already defect. Only the first few crates with a little marking on the side contained prefect weapons. Xolroi made the conclusion the Dutch traders was not a trader at all, but a spy searching for information and setting the enemy up with flawed weapons. The weapon trade will take place after three, not two days, at Notre-Dame Cathedral. Xolroi heard enough and sped with flashjumps back to Théodore. Back in Théodore's big mansion, Théodore tended Xolroi's back which was damaged by the first sun. In the meanwhile both men told each other what they had discovered. Théodore had found a map with all kind of routes under the city in Joséphine’s office. They were marked with different colours. Sewer routes were brown and cave like routes were made green. Also he found an order to make ammunition from silver in one of the drawers of Joséphine’s office. About the Dutchman, both men, agreed that he must be a spy. Getting information, cash in a lot of money for his homeland and at the same time setting the werewolves and Napoleon up. Only Joséphine’s main role in this all, remains unclear. Théodore wonders if she could be a vampire. For that would make sense as to why she would go against the troops of her own husband. It appeared they had gathered enough information to make a strategy. After making an attack strategy, Théodore used his network to gather his fellow Parisian vampires. The night hung over Paris like a thick blanket, the moon casting its silver light on the Notre-Dame Cathedral. A low rumble of distant thunder echoed through the streets. Xolroi and Théodore waited in the shadows, watching as the Dutchman carried out his trade. His soldiers, acting as traders, carried the crates off the wagons and placed them organised at the entrance of the Notre-Dame Cathedral. The werewolves arrived with their fierce eyes and intimidating stature. They were tense; eager to receive their new weapons. General Alejandro de la Cruz opened a few boxes and checked the weapons. After being pleased by the quality of the weapons, he paid the Dutchman. As soon as the deal was done and the Dutchman and his men, were at a safe distance, Théodore signalled his network of vampires and the fight began. From above, the vampires of Paris moved with deadly grace, dropping silently from the cathedral’s high towers. Simultaneously, the entrances and exits of the underground passages burst open and vampires from beneath the city emerged surprised the enemy. The later, were the vampires who had entered through the hidden sewers and caves; the routes marked on the map Théodore had found. The werewolves start to shoot their assailants with their new guns. The guns jammed, misfired, and broke down, leaving the werewolves defenceless. The werewolves, realizing they had been tricked, roared in fury. They tossed their useless guns aside and charged into the chaos. The Dutchman and his soldiers, were not at all surprised by the attack of the vampires. Instead of leaving, they also joined the fight. Xolroi wasted no time, with his ancient Aztec dagger ready to strike, he leaped with vampiric speed into the fray. He fought with ruthless precision and struck down the werewolves who crossed his path. His eyes locked onto General Alejandro de la Cruz. But these werewolves were strong, and Xolroi found himself pushed to his limits. Xolroi summons his floating ghost skulls. Engulfed in purple flames the ghosts flared through the sky burning and wounding everything on their path. The fight was a difficult one; The Werewolves were strong opponents. With a quick look Xolroi saw that the Dutchman fought with uncommon skills and inhuman strength against the werewolves. The werewolf General snarled, his fangs bared, as he prepared to strike, but Xolroi was ready. He summoned his magic, cloaking himself in shadows and with one swift movement, plunged his dagger into the General. Above, Théodore performed the binding spell from the ancient book. The magic weighed down the werewolves, slowing them down as if bound by invisible chains, and their movements became less coordinated. The battle raged, Xolroi could sense victory was still within reach, but luck must be on their side for a victory. Then, out of nowhere, a new group arrived. Vampires, but unknown to Théodore and Xolroi. An elite faction, who carried the latest type of firearms fired silver bullets with deadly precision at the werewolves. One by one, the elite fell, their howls echoing through the cathedral. The silver shots were the final blow, weakening the werewolves and giving the vampires the upper hand. Only the General Alejandro de la Cruz remained. Xolroi and the General locked eyes. With one final surge of power, Xolroi unleashed all his hate, his sorrow and the urge for revenge, striking down the General with his fist. General Alejandro de la Cruz was defeated and Xolroi had taken revenge for the slaughter of his village, his parents; his Aztec people. Xolroi retrieved his dagger, while the Parisian vampires secured the General. Théodore stepped beside Xolroi, his fan twirling in his hand. “A fine victory,” he said with contentment. “But we must stay vigilant; the vampires in Paris were safe, for now. But the war was far from over. Napoleon was still the Emperor and had still his human soldiers” Xolroi nodded; Théodore was right. The vampires had won, but the city remained a fragile balance between humans and creatures of the night. But Xolroi had carried out his revenge and will be travelling the world soon again. The day stretched on as Xolroi and the Dutchman found themselves in a dimly lit inn at the Seine. The room, simple but clean, was dark as the wooden shutters were closed. A plate with food -without cheese- lay barely touched on the table. A crackling fire cast soft shadows across the walls, and a candle flickered on the table, casting their faces in a golden glow. Both lay exhausted on the bed. The Dutchman had his usual composed demeanour softened by the intimacy of the moment and offered Xolroi a rare, genuine smile. The past night's battle was almost forgotten as their eyes lingered on one another. The silence between them was comfortable. “I’ll be heading back,” the Dutchman said quietly, As his fingers traced Xolroi's face. "The Seine will take me to the Batavian Republic. Paris will be behind me soon enough." the Dutchman stated. The Dutchman’s journey was far from over, but neither was Xolroi’s. There were roads yet to travel, battles still to fight. But for now, they would simply be two figures, enjoying the calm of a quiet day. The Dutchman reached across to get his clothes laying on a chair, his hand brushing Xolroi’s. “Until we meet again,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. Xolroi’s lips curled into a half-smile. His fingers curled around the Dutchman’s; a quick silent promise passing between them. The Dutchman slipped out of the inn. Xolroi watched him disappear into the mass of people at Seine's waterfront; he soon too would go his own way. words 4081 This is the family version! Hope you enjoyed this fanfic. Note: This is a fanfic; written by me. Do not use and share this content without my permission (Except Renderosity). You may link to this page. You may not upload it on another site. I can't add my Renderosity's username here: so in safeguard this content at least a bit I use the nickname PaiThan. Thank you. I used the characters look, the fact that he is a vampire, his Aztec birth and that he is wielding a dagger; the rest is all by me. Flashjump is a made up word by me, it means jumping in the air so fast and far, that it looks for a bystander as a flash. Entry #25 - Xolroi 1805 Aztec Vampire vs Werewolf PaiThan Fanfic 2024 https://www.renderosity.com/contests/entries/43563 Entry #140 - 1 Dashing Aztec Vampire PaiThan 2024 https://www.renderosity.com/contests/entries/43535 Entry #141 - 2 Charmed by the Aztec PaiThan 2024 https://www.renderosity.com/contests/entries/43536 Entry #142 - 3 Aztec Beau in Darkness PaiThan 2024 https://www.renderosity.com/contests/entries/43537