Carmilla Silvermoon comes from one of the great noble families of Vespera's Keep. Some would say her family is cunning, ruthless, and cruel. But she thinks they don't know her family well, since they are loving, doting, and kind to her. But even so, some would seek her family's downfall and ruin. In preparation, they trained her in the usual noble courtly manners and how to skulk and strike from the shadows. The blood she spilt always matched her eyes and contrasted with her hair. Maybe not something most nobles would do, but politics can be cutthroat, no? Often literally.
As the only child, she represented her parents at many galas, banquets, masques, and ceremonies, welcoming visiting ambassadors, lords, and high-ranking clergy. Often, she walked the streets at night, and some naive opportunists would try to take her life. Often, she tried to talk her way out, and often she left them bleeding out in an alley. This last group didn't even pose much of a fight, really. Untrained, unskilled, little more than basic bandits. Almost like disposable pawns. A tactic the noble families liked to use. Throw some sheep at the target as a distraction, and then, when their guard is lowered, have a more professional assassin swoop in and-
Blood. The first thing that hits any of her senses. The taste in her mouth, on her tongue. The sweet, wonderful irony smell hits her nostrils, and she takes a deep breath of it. She never really paid much attention to it. But lying down in this alleyway, rough stone digging into her back, her eyes trailing the starry sky, it is the thing she focuses on the most. Gradually, her other senses start waking up. She doesn't feel her heartbeat; her blood runs cold. Actually, a lot of her blood is in a pool around her, with a curiously crafted dagger to the side. She should be dead, she thinks. But a look to her side shows a woman of the clergy. She must have brought her back. Her family will reward her handsomely. But why all the shouting? Of course, she looks panicked and exhausted from the ordeal, but... Oh, she is pointing up at something. A pale blue woman floating above them both. Ethereal and wispy.
"There is no need to shout," Says Carmilla. "That is just my sister after all." She tries to calm the woman of cloth, but the bloodstained smile with two sharp fangs poking out does little to reassure.
