Boston: Sanguine Nights
Name: Viktor Stanislov
Apparent Age: 33
Date of Birth: August 2nd, 1016
R.I.P.: Oktober 24th, 1049
Race: Eastern European
Weight: 195 lbs.
He heard it then… a war horn in the distance. Viktor Stanislov, hidden away in a tent on the edge of the conflict, knew instinctively what that meant: his father and elder brother had begun their deadly dance with the enemy. Viktor sighed and turned his head back to the book he so carefully copied…
Viktor began life as the second son of a war-hungry, wealthy noble in Eastern Europe, near what is now Czechoslovakia. His childhood, as the second son, was relegated to scholarly pursuits.
Viktor found it hard to concentrate however, and found himself drawn by the bloody fields of war. Some of his fondest memories are of his elder brother and father returning from the battlefield, nearly drenched in the blood of their foes. The most remarkable thing of Viktor’s childhood was the quickness with which he took to learning of basic sciences and the biology of all animals.
Eventually, it came as no surprise, that Viktor’s elder brother fell in battle. Viktor was a young man when he was thrust into a suit of armor and taught to hold a lance and swing a sword beside his aging father. The family conquest of neighboring lands will never end, it would seem.
Viktor rode along with his father for many campaigns and proved to be an inspirational, if somewhat blood-thirsty leader for his army. One day, on the fields east of Pisek, next to the river Orlik, Viktor was leading a counter-attack against the enemy horde. His father had already fallen ill back at camp, resting on what many whispered to be the great warrior-king’s deathbed. The counter-attack met heavy resistance, but succeeded in driving the enemy into the river, bringing Pisek firmly under Stanislov control. However, news of the victory was bitter-sweet. Many soldiers wept at the news…. Viktor had fallen.
His father died, leaving no heirs to the kingdom. Eventually, the realm was torn asunder as warlord after warlord fought each other for the scraps of the Stanislov empire.
Viktor still remembered that day… his final sunset, spent staring, intrigued, at his own blood as it ran from the arrows protruding from his chest. It was then that he arrived, casting a shadow blacker than night…. As the blood bubbled, frothy and thick, from his lips, Viktor looked upon the striking visage of the man before him….. and smiled.
Viktor awoke with a start…. He had been asleep for centuries, it felt. The vivid dream of his past left his head feeling heavy and full of cobwebs. It was then that he heard it again…. it reminded him of a war horn, only louder, sharper. The sound cut through the walls and earth around him….
And then he heard the hundreds of horns sounding replies and was scared for the first time since that stranger stood before him near Pisek…