White Wolf: THE DEATH -Prologue
Nigel Dark awoke to the blackness of his room, the only light that shone in it was a cold pale purple blue from a nearby lamp. The darkness wasnít entirely due to the shadows concerning this time of the day but from the entire room itself for it was painted black. The only furniture, which occupied the room, a desk and chair, were also of the darkest color. Yawning Nigel pushed back the dark purple silken covers and somehow managed to pull himself out of the warmth and straight into the shocking cold of the room. It didnít bother him too much for he was used to it by now as being of the eleventh month of his apprenticeship. He stretched listening momentarily to the popping of the stiff joints of his waking bones then he walked over to the desk where his clothes were neatly folded on the top. Taking them up he then dressed in the clothes of his trade. Those being of course a dark black mock turtleneck half-inch sleeve shirt and a light long sleeved silver-stitched robe like black long coat, which hung down to his ankles. He buckled his black leather silver-stitched belt, not to keep his dark black pants from sliding for they fit snugly around his waist but more for ornamentation than anything as the buckle itself was of the silver white metal. He slid his long black boots on, they reached well up to his knee, then stretched again letting the ties to his long coat fly free.
His boots made an ominous sound in the silence as he made his way to an adjacent room, walking up to a mirror. Taking out a comb from the drawer of the vanity, which held the mirror, he brushed his nape length hair into something resembling decent. It was a fiery copper which seemed to move in even the stale wind which blew through the room for it was light, a mere breath could cause a tremor to wave through it. He blinked then rubbed the sands of sleeping from his eyes, reopening them slowly. Straightening his clothes Nigel strode back into his room and to yet another door. Taking hold of the silver knob he turned, pulled, then walked out shutting the door behind him.
The hall into which he walked was dimly lit. The brightest things there were his eyes. They appeared to be luminous blue white flames that seemed to be trapped in a ring about the void like holes of his pupils, giving the lean lanky boy an ominous look to his exceedingly pale-fleshed face. Boy, for he was only just seventeen and apt to stay that way for the rest of eternity. He came to a stop just in front of a door that was adorned with a bone motif. He raised his hand to knock but before his knuckles even came close to touching the wood, the door swung wide open guided by some unseen force.
Come in lad. The voice was not quite said aloud but more directly into his mind.
ďAnd what tasks are we of today, Sir?Ē Nigel asked entering the room. The door shut behind him leaving the rest of the place to the possession of silence.
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