I'm certainly not trying to undermine what has been previously posted pertaining to such things. I just thought it might be nice to add another piece of literature to the apparently growing collection, as everyone does seem to enjoy it. Anyway, this is a small excerpt from a story I plan on doing entitled Realm of Tears, part of my Terra Bellum series. Since it is only a small piece of a much larger project, questions are welcomed, and critiques are mandatory 
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Epoch stood before the grand entrance of Malchia's hallowed castle, peering upon the large planks of stained wood which were pieced together with rusted reinforcements to create a set of doors. Silently the warlock entered the darkened abode and began down the main hall, glancing upon the beautifully crafted stained glass windows to his sides, curious as to what compelled the master of this domain to strive for such contrast. As Epoch descended deeper into the heart of the castle, his vision became saturated by the darkness, pure darkness as if it had never known the light of day. Seeing a glimmer of tinted light, the warlock treaded onward carefully in hushed strides. Upon reaching the faint sign given by the sun, Epoch halted any further actions, seemingly content to stand in the gentle rays which slid through yet another stained window, the only origin of light within this portion of the great hall.
"State your purpose." A subtle, yet brooding voice called out calmly from the darkness.
Epoch took notice, turning his head to face the sound. "I have come to speak with Lord Malchia."
After a short bout of silence, the hidden figure stepped out of the darkness' veil and spoke, his voice still imprisoned within the monotones of despair. "I am he, Lord of this damned domain and carrier of its curse."
Epoch looked upon the being, taken back by his rather fragile appearance and gentle features. The light from the window barely dared to reach out and touch him, only accenting his brilliantly pigmented eyes and the pale tone of his flesh further. Freeing himself from the binds of stares, Epoch cleared his throat and began to repeat what he had practiced in his mind many times before.
"I am Epoch of Lore and I have heard rumors of an uprising within your kingdom, the birth of a new court that wishes only for your demise. Is this true?"
Malchia dropped his eyes with a heavy sigh as he focused upon the ground and spoke, still lacking any real sense of motivation. "It is true that the seeds of my destruction have been planted, however, they were not harvested within my courts. Where the source of this... plague... lies is beyond me, but I suspect that it is farther to the East."
Epoch nodded in agreement, seeing no reason to argue, yet wishing to confirm such statements for himself. "But why divert all of their resources towards you? Surely there are more obtainable goals on their list."
Malchia continued to peer at the ground as a slight breath of amusement escaped his lungs, glancing up upon the warlock which had entered his citadel initially uninvited. "They hate me because they fear me." Malchia paused as he took a step closer to Epoch "I am slowly, but systematically destroying their world. I take that which is most important to them; the assurance that their kind will continue to walk this plane of existence. So long as I tread upon the barren lands of Terra, their survival is in danger."
"What about those which camp outside of your castle within the cottage?"
"Oh, them? I treat them with the respect they desire, and in return they supply me with the nourishment that I require."
"Blood?" Epoch inquired, hoping that he might bestow some impression of knowledge.
"Not just blood, my young friend, but spirit!" Malchia stated firmly, pointing directly at Epoch in order to stress his point.
"I do not understand"
"Of course you do not, for I am beyond your time and knowledge" Malchia glared at the sunken warlock, subconsciously delighted with his shrunken ego. "Among my kind, I am the first and I shall also be the last. I am truly immortal, for unlike my peers, eternity flows through my veins, not mediocrity. Many would kill for the powers that I wield, and that is precisely the deed that I initiated in order to gain them myself. However, they were and still are a punishment for me. With each victim I draw life from; I also take a piece of a larger entity, a shared unconsciousness if you will. It is theorized and taught that each and every human on the face of this retched planet has an ample and vital form of animation, individual to them and them alone. However, they are merely borrowing small pieces of their creator, small pieces which do not define or drive their wills, but merely sustain them. Upon death, these small pieces of spirit are recycled, being placed back into the pool of radiance so that another being may be brought into existence. I, however, steal these avatars for my own gain, along with the precise red juices that flow forth, thus ensuring their eventual extinction."
"But you--"
"Leave" Malchia commanded, interrupting whatever foolish comment the warlock had planned to make, as he returned to his darkened thrown, protected within a curtain of shadows.
Epoch glared upon the ethereal entity which was Malchia, angered but unwilling to sacrifice himself or his Master's plans for the vampire. Promptly leaving, Epoch wondered back down the empty hall of Malchia's domain as his boots echoed against the hollowed walls with each step.
