Sherise sighed, and shook her head, looking out over the desert sands. Behind her, the walls of Istan City could just barely be seen in the distance, and in front of her the open expanse of sand. Above her, the shimmering sun, barely at midday, set her raven hair aflame, and danced in her deep blue, nearly purple irises. She didn't have anything to worry about, not for the moment anyway. Unlike what most people thought of vampires, she was Elven-kind first and foremost. Thus, the sun's rays did not affect her as they did most of her kind.

No, what she had to fear was the moon, and the soft light that it shed on the land when the sun went down. That was her biggest problem. But being in possibly the second largest city in all of Imythess, she didn't really have all that much to worry about.

Well, unless you counted the fact that many people wanted her dead simply for being what she was, and that was going to be a problem. She sighed, and shook her head. "Too much tedium to this life I lead. Three thousand years is too long for someone like me to have lived." She shook her head, and turned to head back to the city.

"Easily remedied," responded a low voice from the dirt, "for those with a little..."

The voice faded from its original location and suddenly continued from a different spot off to the side, "imagination."

A dark figure, almost typical to the silhouette of someone accustomed to the night, had crawled out of the nothingness and was now standing lazily near a small shrub. The sun was bright, enough to make out his face through its natural shadows. His head was uncharacteristically not covered by a hood. His face was fairly thin, but not ghastly, and his long hair fell back under his robe. His eyes seemed to glint with something devious. It was a face belonging to something not natural, maybe demented.

A smile grew across his face, starting on his left cheek and never reaching the right, as he continued immediately, "Do you not agree?"

He stood motionless, even the warm air refused to gust and grant him the slightest twitch. It was as if the life around him had died, and in that he revelled silently. He had intended to torture a few guards closer to the city and take a peek into the future, but a lone figure so far in the desert was simply an irresistable treat.

Sherise turned back, her mouth open slightly, revealing the fangs. But the wave of aura she got off this one pulled her up short. A necromancer... out in broad daylight... that was something unheard of. She couldn't believe it, but she had not perceived his aura wrong, she was sure of it.

"And who's to say that I have no imagination?" she said coyly, batting her eyelashes. Her eyes glittered slightly for a moment, and then went back to the gleam from the sun. Her own cloak billowed slightly, catching the breeze shortly after it picked up in front of him. Underneath, she was in her typical attire, black corset over black blouse, black form fitting pants, and black boots.

"After all, I've been alive for as long as I have. If I had no imagination, I would have died of boredom CENTURIES ago." She smiled slightly, and shook her head. "Just what precisely are you inferring, may I ask?"

"Boredom," he mused. "Boredom would be the death of you?"

The tight skin on his face twisted into another smile, this one toothy and simply not right. He stepped forward quickly, leading with the same grin, as he held her eyes with his. His dark attire was matched by the only other silly enough to dress so improperly for the desert: this girl. From a distance, it seemed like two shadows had manifested and were now challenging one another for the right to a third plane of existance. Yulth had a distinct advantage in size, even from the perspective of a distant onlooker. Almost unnoticeably but coincidentally, a vulture began its spiral over the developing conversation. It was an evil omen to anyone versed in natural prediction. It was a carcass lunch for the vulture. The dead animal several hundred yards to the west would not need flesh anymore. Yulth had seen to that.

"Looking to the sand, talking to the wind, is what has saved you from slumber? Or perhaps tonguing those pointy somethings in your jaw is enough to tide you," Yulth asked sarcastically.

He was reminded of a rare blooded beast with fangs similar to the ones she revealed. They were supposedly shy toward the daylight. He remained disinterested in her fate.

She sneered. "So you know what I am. Then a NECROMANCER like you should know the difference," she hissed at him. The coy act vanished, and now there were flames in her eyes. "I'll put this simply, WHELP," she said. "I've been through hell and all its glory. The very LEAST you could do is give me the respect I deserve as someone who has far more experience with Death than you."

Here, she turned her back, looking toward the west, where the sun was beginning - very slowly - to sink to the horizon. "Forgive me, but I absolutely MUST get indoors before the sun sets. You see, unlike a NORMAL being of my kind, I am immune to sunlight. For you see," she said, turning back to him and brushing the hair back on both sides of her face, revealing the points to her ears. "I am not human. I am Elven. Therefore, I can brave the day with no worry of Death."

She smiled, mimicking his own grin from earlier. "Now then. If you have finished wasting my time, I will be on my way," she said, and turned to continue heading into the city.

Yulth laughed quietly, the urge overcoming him and potentially interrupting the vampiress in her tirade. She continued to try and belittle Yulth, but it seemed to have no effect. His sadistic smile was only made wider and wider. This was indeed more entertaining than toying with mere humans. Humans were easily fooled and quickly disposed. The necromancer worked tirelessly to rid himself of the last bits of that sickly heritage. He had already left his humanity by the wayside, somewhere in a dark swamp somewhere, years in the past. Parts of his body had been replaced by those of vile beasts. Yet still, like a rash, his human form remained. Not much longer would he suffer his own hippocracy of remaining tied to a beast he despised so much. He had been making much progress, and the blood of a vampire may even help further his research. That thought intrigued him more as he listened to her talk, pretty much to herself at this point in the conversation.

She then revealed her so called immunity to sunlight. A mere half-bred vampire, Yulth sneered to himself. Hardly worth the effort of draining if the line was not pure. Half-breed blood was twice as common and half as effective. He was sure he had a clotted vial of it buried away somewhere. He was dissapointed that his newest game was thwarted before the first turn was played, but something else caught his mind. As the vampiress turned, Yulth's mouth had already begun to chant inaudible words. His hands seemed to twitch, but they were actually arcane symbols.

"If you have no trouble with the day, old one, then watch the sun set with me," came his dark voice from behind her.

Without warning, an exact copy of Sherise appeared, as if from nowhere, several steps in front of the vampiress. "Yes, let's watch the sunset, sister! We're not afraid!" came the voice of Sherise from this figure. A warm but equally chilling smile was painted across its face. Yulth's crazed face had not changed.

Sherise turned, fear in her eyes, as she shook her head. "I will not remain here while the sun sets. And your images will not keep me here." She sighed. "You must think me a half-breed. But you do not know my story, and nor do you know my sire. I am no half-breed. I am the last of a dead breed of vampires, that could walk the day as modern vampires can walk the night. But just as modern vampires are killed by the sun, I would die under moonlight." She turned away.

"So if you will excuse me, I have much to do before the sun sets," she said irately. He was quickly trying her patience, and a fiery whip lashed out and caught the image in the middle of the chest, and then retracted into her hand where the sparks were already fading. "I do not play games with hypocrites," she said, walking by the image.

The false image of Sherise looked down at the fire-torn gash across her chest with a look of confusion. She brought her hands in as if she had to feel the wound to believe it existed. As the truth of the matter hit her, she looked up with a piercing gaze toward the vampiress. The expression and her eyes seemed to scream, "You tore my bodice, you cow."

With a loud huff, the figure crossed its arms, annoyed, and washed away into the wind like a cloud of dust. Yulth was particularly pleased with the performance, and it made him laugh quietly. He was fairly disinterested in the way the play was turning until that point. The necromancer had no interest in family trees, except if he was in the mood to prune a few branches.

Yulth muttered under his breath again, hidden by his laughter, as his hands twitched in a seemingly random pattern. With a facial twitch, he looked after the vampiress and made a simple comment. Invisible waves of magical energy crashed into Sherise from behind as his spell was complete.

"Nor do I," came the necromancer's voice, cold as winter's grasp.

(OOC: Spell is Cause Fear. Keep in mind that this necromatic spell is extremely powerful due to Yulth's Archmage Mastery.)

(OOC: Sorry it took me so long to post here, Yulth. If you're even still here. *looks around* Meh.)

Sherise flinched, her eyes flashing slightly, the bravado that was there vanishing, nothing but fear in her eyes, as her hand darted to her hip, the blade there ringing from the sheath, the runes on the blade itself flashing in the light, naming the blade Exiva. The blade also had a tinge of purple to it, that only one accustomed to death would recognize as a deadly toxin.

"Leave me alone," she said, slowly backing away from the male. Whatever he was, it was making her unreasonably fearful. After all, he couldn't be anything more than a mortal... could he? There couldn't be anything about him that gave him any sort of edge over her. And yet.... Something about him was sending all her warning bells off in a clamor.

"What... what are you? And who are you... to be able to inspire such fear.... in one who has never feared ANYONE...."