Markos Desya
| Name: | Markos Desya |
| Location: | The Lady Sinister |
| Rank: | Crew |
Noted Favors, Awards and Memberships
Personal Color: Dark Rose Red
Biography
Shore of the Baltic Sea, Grand Duchy of Moscow, 1509
Markos awoke to a loud crash as his front door was splintered to pieces by the raiders in the middle of the night. He quickly moved to the window staying just out of sight from anyone outside. As he peered down he could see no less than two dozen armed men ransacking his coastal village, he was in a daze watching as they began burning the village to the ground. A blood-curdling scream rang out from downstairs that broke Markos from his daze. He recognized it as one of the servant women who lived with him. He quickly moved from the window and slid into his boots and a black shirt, he then moved to the trunk at the foot of his bed and removed his sword, belt, and two single-hand battle axes. Slowly he stalked down the hallway; near the stairs he drew his sword as he heard heavy footfalls and a foreign language. Before the man’s eyes could focus in the dim light from his torch Markos had buried his sword to the hilt through the man’s upper chest. A look of shock came into the man’s eyes for a brief moment before Markos removed the sword and the man collapse to the ground. Making his way down the stairs Markos found his home in shambles, anything and everything of value was gone, blood from the servants was splattered on the walls and running down to pool on the floor. He saw movement from the corner of the room and looked to see three men quickly running out what was left of his front door. Markos moved quickly and leaped over the overturned table only to slip on the blood soaked floor. He recovered and was out the door after the men who had just entered the edge of the forest, being a fast runner Markos quickly found one of the men within striking distance and slid one of his axes from belt as he ran. As soon as the man was in a small clearing Markos threw the axe with all the anger he could muster, it made a sickening thud as is caught the man in the middle of the back, digging in and splintering the man’s spine. After the man fell to the ground Markos went to recover the axe, as he was placing his foot on the man’s back to pull out his axe he heard a whistling sound and felt a sharp pain as an arrow pierced through his left shoulder. He turned just as the log made contact with his face knocking him out cold.
Markos awoke an hour later in the clearing, first noticing he was had been stripped of all but his pants, then that arrow had not only hit his shoulder but was also protruding from the upper left of his chest. It was then Markos came to realize he was propped up on something soft and black; he looked up from his chest to find that he was being cradled by a raven-haired woman with brilliant green eyes and soft pale skin that was ghostly white. The woman smiled down at him, and Markos noted the peculiar length and sharpness of a pair of her teeth. He would have recoiled in fear had he had the strength. The beautiful woman then asked if he would like to live for the good he and his family had done for the village. Markos was no ordinary man; he was the son of the very kind former princess of that region who had passed away years before when Markos was but sixteen years of age. She had left him all she owned along with control of the region. Markos, staring into the woman’s beautiful eyes weakly asked her name. “Amelia” she replied. Markos asked how she intended to keep him alive. “I am Vampire.” was her only reply. Markos’ eyes widened, he had heard the stories of the undead who roamed the night feeding on blood. Markos was beginning to lose consciousness again when the anger of what had happened to his village urged him to whisper “Save me.” Amelia nodded and bared her fangs as she brought Markos close to her and sank her teeth into his neck. It wasn’t so much painful as it was intensely pleasurable and erotic as she fed on him, Markos watched as his blood ran down his chest in the moonlight like the red wine he favored. Amelia pulled away and brought her wrist to her mouth and bit down. Barely conscious, Markos looked up inquisitively. Amelia then brought her gushing wrist to his mouth and told him to drink. Markos faintly nodded and began to suck on her wrist, the warm, coppery tasting liquid filling his mouth and sliding down his throat as he succumbed to unconsciousness. Suddenly, Markos snapped awake. Every muscle in his body tightened and his back arched, he ripped the arrow from his chest in an instant and stared up at Amelia, his eyes turning green just as hers. Dawn was breaking over the sea and Amelia quickly disappeared as Markos lost consciousness again.
When Markos awoke he looked around in a panic. Had it all been a dream? He looked at the dried blood all over his chest and noticed in great surprise that the gaping hole from the arrow was gone as if it had never existed. As he ran his hand along his neck he felt the two holes from Amelia’s bite. Markos stumbled back to what was left of his house noting the sun seemed unusually strong and unbearably hot. He made his way through the rubble of his home and to the well in the back; once there he washed the blood from himself. He proceeded inside and collapsed into his bed. Markos awoke that evening after the sun had set and found himself hungrier than he had ever been. He wandered out into the street and down to a small tavern that was still standing to get something to eat. After a healthy meal he found himself still starving. It was then he spotted a gorgeous young woman in the corner of the tavern, Markos felt an unusual hunger when he gazed at her. Markos ordered a bottle of wine and moved to a table near her. He quickly drank the entire bottle in an attempt to slake his thirst and to allow him to overcome his shyness and talk to her. As Markos was staring at her their eyes met, Markos’ conveying his appetite and his desires. To his surprise the young woman was unable to take her eyes off of him, she then rose from her table and grabbed Markos by the hand leading him from the tavern. Soon they were in her bed and Markos’ desire overcame him without warning, fangs grew from his mouth and he found himself biting her soft, pale, silky smooth neck as she writhed beneath him in pleasure while he drank her blood. Markos awoke the next day lying next to a dead girl, soaked in what he could only assume was her blood. He quickly clothed himself and ran back to his home. The sun seemed even hotter today and he was sweating profusely when he made it to his bedroom. Markos grabbed all the belongings he could and boarded the nearest ship bound for England, still in shock at what he had done.
Markos traveled the seas for many years after he fled the village, never looking back to his ruined village and destroyed home. During his journey he came across others like himself and gained their friendship; they in turn taught him the rules of being a Vampire.He finally began to understand what he had truly become; a concept that both thrilled and terrified him.
After a bar fight in London one evening, Markos stowed-away aboard a ship bound for the Isles. Having been weakened by the brawl he found a deep, dark corner and slept for some time: It could have been days, or weeks- he couldn’t say for sure. When he finally awoke he found a lowly crew member and fed. As the warm life blood drained quickly from his victim’s veins he could feel strength returning to himself.
That night Markos decided to see what sort of ship he boarded. Keeping to the shadows and moving silently on the decks he explored the ship beneath the full moon. Having been below deck for some time, his eyes easily adjusted to the meager light available. After some time exploring the ship, he looked up and searched the mast for a flag- hoping to find whose crown they sailed under. It was then that Markos realized his mistake: There was no country’s flag, only a white skull with two swords on a red field. He was onboard a pirate ship.
Over the next few days, Markos weighed his options and came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t willingly expose himself to them. He was decidedly outnumbered and while he could just drain the entire crew, he didn’t know the first thing about sailing a vessel this large by himself. He also didn’t like the idea of being tossed overboard. He kept to the shadows, eaves dropping on the members of the crew, stealing any little scraps of information that might give him an idea how much longer the voyage might be. The first thing Markos discovered was that the crew members he had been feeding on were referred to as “Step and Fetches” who had failed the “program”. The second was that many pirates were superstitious, as many of them thought the whole voyage was cursed because crew members were disappearing. Markos chuckled to himself at this notion.
Finally, after a few more days the ship made port on the Isle of Lost Grace. Markos waited until the crew was gone and slipped off the ship and into the small port village. Wandering the dirt streets he searched for a place to clean up and lay his head for the night. The sun was beating down relentlessly as Markos wandered further into the village, with every step he found himself growing weaker and more tired. Suddenly Markos collapsed to the ground. The last thing he remembers is being carried by a bald man who identified himself as Kaushunn. “I’ve got just the place for you.” Kaushunn said. Hours later Markos awoke in a soft four-post bed covered in black satin, surrounded by ungodly amounts of pillows. Rubbing his eyes he noted that the bedroom was well furnished and decorated with riches from all over the world. Suddenly the door opened and a beautiful redhead entered the room, she looked Markos over with a smile on her face. “Welcome to the House my dear.” She said with a wink.
“The what?” Markos replied with a surprised look on his face…
