Hey you guys. This is my new fan-fic. Comments and critiques would be the most welcome. Oh, and don't tell me this is cliche', as I already know that. Just give me some pointers and advice, please.
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"Praise be to Lord Vile and the blood patron, Molag," Acerbus whispered in the darkness as he stood from the obsidian pedestal in the chapel. The glass windows were stained with the color of blood. The moonlight poured through them, casting the crimson rays all across the room, bathing him in the light. He turned and headed for the hidden trap door into his home below the chapel.

Acerbus Occisor was born an Imperial. His hair was as black as the Void itself and it fell to his wide shoulders. His eyes were of the deepest and darkest crimson, seduction and cunning flowed from them. His face was pale and very gaunt due to the lack of blood he drunk. A long, crooked scar ran diagonally down his back. Acerbus wore a tight black leather suit and a dark sapphire blue hooded cape.

He climbed down the ancient oak ladder and into the cave that surrounded him. The walls of the old place had fresh pickaxe cuts into them for more room and walking space. The amount of recruits who had joined the Esoteric Fangs had stretched the cavern to several levels below the chapel. It was an astonishing amount of vampires in one location. Over three thousand had joined the guild over a one hundred year span. But a thousand are there under the chapel, as it is the place where the guild was founded.

The guild of assassins has prospered over the span of one hundred years and now rivals the power and fear of the Dark Brotherhood presence in Cyrodiil. The Fangs have been taking most contracts from the Dark Brotherhood, almost crippling the ancient guild from under its foundations.

Acerbus nodded at the vampiric children roaming about the halls of the expansive cavern. The uppermost level of the cave was the market, with several other sections ranging from fletchers to bladesmiths and general goods to large bottles filled to the brim with human blood, ever so sweet blood. He moved towards the back wall of the top level and to the vendor sandwiched in between two larger stalls.

"Hi, Peter. What do you have with you today?" Acerbus asked with questioning eyes. The vendor, a gray headed Nord taller than his stall, stood there swaying to some music that no one but he could hear.

"I have just come back from High Rock. It seems that they have been performing illegal experiments and doing research there. I was lucky enough to steal a few books from their alchemy labs. Here have a look," he answered politely. Acerbus could tell from the tone of Peter's voice that he had just recently fed, as he is usually irritable after a missed feeding. Acerbus grabbed the red leather bound book and began to flip through the pages. The script it was written in was a beautiful one, curvy letters and the perfect slant of them. Acerbus immediately recognized it as a woman's; no man could write like that.

He finished flipping through the first one and put it down. He picked another up, this one was bound in a blue cotton cover and was embedded with blood red rubies. Acerbus opened it up to the first page.

Porphyric Hemophilia: The Vampires

He began to read it. It told of the many different clans of vampires of Tamriel and their abilities and weaknesses. This was the perfect book to further increase his studies of his kin. He looked up from the book and queried, "I'll take this one. How does twenty septims sound?"

Peter nodded and Acerbus placed the gold on the table and walked away. He moved downstairs to his room and began to drink a bottle of blood, all the while reading his newly acquired book.

EDIT: Changed seductive to seduction

First, the name Peter for a Nord bothered me. It is my opinion that real-world names have no place in TES universe.

Three thousand vampires? That's not a group of assassins, that's an army. Are you trying to compensate for something?

I can see this as a tiny fraction of a huge story. You just gave me an idea on what I could do with two stories of my own. How far do you intend to go with this?

Really, really far. As for the name of the Nord, I can fix it.

EDIT: Oh, and the vampires are not just in that cavern. They are spread all across Cyrodiil.

Chapter Two

It was around dawn and Acerbus began to grow tired from all the reading he had done. He put the book down and went to his bed; it was basically a large stone slab with a pillow at the head of the bed. He laid down a fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow

++++++++++++++++++++

"Let us head into the wilderness, men," Cyrus said as he took a swig of his bloodwine. He was a vampire ancient for the Fangs and one of the members of their council. He turned from the road and entered the Great Forest. Its many trees swayed with the cool night air, their branches creaking a secretive language that none could understand. The leaves floated to the forest floor, only to wither and die, facing its apportioned fate. "If we want to arrive at the Fang Chapel before the sun's rays can be cast upon us, we must hurry."

The men nodded and formed a circular band around the Redguard. They began to trot forward, deeper and deeper into the forest, slowly losing the moonlight that guided them.

In a matter of moments, a sound rang out into the night. It was a howl. The group of men ignored it, as they decided that it was just a wolf howling at the moon. The trekked onward, only to hear the noise again, this time it was closer. The vampires suspected not a thing, simply believing that it was another wolf.

Then, a growl erupted from behind them. Cyrus spun around, silver blade drawn. It was a werewolf. Those beady black eyes pierced him through, surveying him for the kill. It bounded from the dirt, kicking up leaves and twigs in its wake. Cyrus' guards moved in to attack. One cut the dirty man-beast across his large muscular arm, causing him to bleed out onto the cold hard dirt. It whimpered as it groped its arm and fell to the ground. "Is it dead, Geleborn?" Cyrus asked. If he had a heartbeat, it would have been bursting out of his chest.

"I think, sir," Geleborn answered through huffs. He sheathed his weapon and bent down to examine the fallen wolf. The men did not know that the monster was holding its breath, waiting for its opportune moment to strike. His white fur glistened with his blood, still oozing from his arm.

Geleborn was looking at the wolf's face, stern and in pain. Then, the wolf jumped from its fetal position and snapped at the High Elf in his face. The Altmer's muffled screams could be heard, but were quickly silenced when the werewolf bit harder. Blood began to drip down the Altmer's neck, staining his robes. The werewolf released the elf and turned towards the group behind him. They rushed in, swords drawn.

The werewolf slung its heavy paw into the side of first vampire, throwing him into the ancient oak. A crack came from his body, signifying his painful death. He ran into the others and tackled them to the ground, mauling their faces and mutilating their bodies. Once the screams had subsided, the wolf ran after Cyrus. Cyrus closed his eyes, hoping that his death would be quick and painless.

++++++++++++++

When the darkness enshrouded the day again, Acerbus woke from his bed and went upstairs to the market.

Acerbus looked around; no one was to be seen. He began to move forward into the council chambers, figuring that there was an announcement that had been made. He saw an apple on a table and snatched it from the clay bowl it was resting on.

He entered the crowded chambers, the pvssyr was loud. So loud, that Acerbus could not hear himself think. He saw Ralas, one of the ancients, step up to the podium. He shouted above the pvssyr, silencing the entire room.

"It has come to my attention that Cyrus, a beloved member of our fraternity, and his men have been slaughtered not far from our sanctuary. We suspect that this was no accident and that the vicious monsters we know as Lycanthropes have done this to them. The council and I have been discussing this since the late afternoon. The werewolves have pushed us too far this time around, killing our high ranking members and slaughtering our brethren. We do not know what we will do against them, but we assure you it will not be a slap on the wrist," he stepped down from the podium and entered the heavy wooden door behind him. One by one, the ancients filed into the pitch black room.

I thought it was decent minus this one line, I dont know why but it seemed awekward to me....

I like it so far, though I think the saying is "a slap on the wrist" Not being picky, and not even sure if that's what you meant, but thats kinda the saying for punishment.

Keep it up.

Any comments suggestions? Don't be afraid, I won't bite Give me some good good good critique, please.

Chapter Three

In the dark dining hall, the pvssyr about the attack was becoming a bit of a burden on Acerbus' nerves. He stood from the pinewood table, grabbed a bottle of bloodwine, and went to his room for quiet. He never liked senseless pvssyr.

He opened the large wooden door, creaking as it slowly glided open. He grabbed "Porphyric Hemophilia" and began to read. His favored clan was one of Nordic blood, the Volkihar. It was said in the book that they lived under the frozen lakes of Skyrim and could freeze a man's blood with their breath. He wished he had those powers.

A knock at his door made him jump. "Come in," He said, still shocked at the sudden burst of noise. Ralas, the Dark Elf ancient, entered the room along with three other ancients. He wore a black robe, strange white runes were written on the cuffs and on the hem of his hood. Ralas sat in the chair across the table from Acerbus.

"Acerbus, we have chosen you to lead the fight against the Lycanthropes. You are experienced enough to get inside and tear their foundations from underneath them. If you succeed in this mission, Acerbus, you will become a member of the council and will be paid handsomely," Ralas said calmly, his eyes were shooting from the bottle of bloodwine to Acerbus. "Here, take this amulet. It was custom made for you. The sapphire has an enchantment which enables you to jump to high places and it reduces the pain and damage that the sun does to your skin. Oh, and that steel blade will do you no good against those monsters. Take this."

Ralas pulled the amulet and sword from the depths of his jet black robe. The deep blue sapphire was the size of the Amulet of Kings and held an eerie glow. The chain was made of silver and had strange runes engraved on the outside. The blade he was given felt as light as a feather and looked as though it weighed well over thirty pounds, which confused him. Its color was that of ivory and had an edge that could slice a strand of hair in half from tip to tip. "I really don't think I deserve such a trinket or a blade of this expense," Acerbus said, flattered at the offer.

He knew he could not turn down any member of the council. It could very well lead to his slow and painful death. "But I'll take them and use them against the one who slaughtered Cyrus," Acerbus said, placing the amulet around his neck and tying the sheath of his newly acquired sword to his belt.

"The name of that sword is Excessum Addo, it holds the soul of a powerful vampiric mage who went against our rules and killed many of your brethren. We had to? punish him for his disobedience. Use it wisely, friend," Ralas said as he stood from the chair and limped from the room.

A strength washed over Acerbus and his body felt lighter. Like all his burdens had been lifted from him. He looked down at his sword and he could swear on Molag that he could hear the tormented screams of the mage.

He shook the idea from his mind and entered the training room. He was eager to see what Excessum could do. He saw his good friend, Octavian, and said, "Hey, Octavian. Let's spar."

The Breton nodded and pulled his silver blade from its sheath. Once he caught glance of Acerbus' new sword, he gave it a puzzling look. "Where you get that at?" He asked, seemingly afraid at the glow it emitted.

"This? Ralas gave it to me. Said it was called Excessum Addo. He gave me this amulet, too," Acerbus answered as he slowly eased it out of its sheath and lifted his amulet up for Octavian to see. Octavian bent over to look into the medallion and jumped back. "What's wrong?"

"Acerbus, that sword just screamed at me. That's a little strange don't you think?" Octavian replied.

Acerbus looked at him with his red eyes. "You hear it too?" He queried.

I dont like the sound of the last word in this cotext, but that could just be the fact im exhausted

A really cool chapter, and definitely gets the plot moving. I didn't find any errors either, so major kudos to your for that.

C'mon guys. Give me whatever you've got, mean or not. I want it.

Two people have commented on your current chapter, that's twice as much compared to my two previous chapters combined. Settle down, bud, feedback is slow here.

Yeah, I know. I'm just excited is all.

Chapter two makes all the vampires look like wussies against a single werewolf. Sounds unrealistic to me. Also, "a slap on the wrist" is a phrase you normally use in educational punishment, not in waging war.

Chapter three: a few spelling/grammar mistakes. I can point them out, if you wish.
I'm having a problem with understanding the dialogue between the two vampires, Acerbus and Octavian. Acerbus sounds kind of childish to me, showing off his new weapon like that.

All in all, I'm still waiting for something big to happen. You have to keep me interested if you want me to keep reading this.

Peleus, I'm not trying to be rude. But if you would read the whole of chapter three, you will see that Octavian asked where Acerbus got the sword and Acerbus merely told him several facts about the blade.

About the werewolf, those things are powerful creatures. The one I was describing was larger than the average werewolf, which leads many people to believe that this one is a bit more powerful than others; and the werewolf took them by surprise.

You must understand, Peleus, that I do not make my vampires or werewolves super uber. That's just not an exciting read, you know? I want people to feel like supernatural creatures in my stories are not all powerful being that can rip someone's brain out by just looking at them. That's not my writing style.

Also, this story is not going to be fast paced like my others were. I'm going to try to take it slow. If you want to see something big happen, you're going to have to keep reading.

Once again, I'm not being rude. Just telling you what I believe.

Thanks,
Lord V.

Lord V, the problem is that as some other people you do not get what critiquing is about. I'm explaining you what the story tells me, the reader. The whole point of a story-telling is to please the reader. That doesn't mean you should change the story to what I say. I would never suggest that. What I'm suggesting is that your response to my critiquing is not the right one. If you intend to go pro one day and publish actual books, you cannot explain all the details to hundreds of readers as you have just explained to me. You must make your story understandable. You didn't point out that that particular werewolf was bigger than usual. One of your characters should point that out very directly. Or, you could give me usual werewolves first and then move on to the big ones.

I did read your entire chapter. I never critique a chapter if I haven't read it all. The dialogue between two vampires seemed slightly immature to me. That is my opinion I have developed while reading your stuff. I would appreciate it if you do not try to influence my opinion. It is like trying to change my beliefs on something. It's hard to describe and it is not in my interest to offend you, but amateur writers should not be so lordly when it comes to critiques of their work. I'm already putting more effort in making you understand than I really should. Being just a little humble helps correcting your flaws. Mind you I didn't say mistakes but flaws. There's a difference.

Yes, but Peleus, one thing you will not do is call one of my most favored characters childish. I understand he may have come off that way. I'll try to make him non-childish and give him more of a mature composure, okay?

Chapter Four

"Yes, I do. What exactly is in that sword?" Octavian asked. A group of people had gathered around them, whispering about the ivory blade in Acerbus' hand.

Acerbus looked around the room, seeing the looks he got. Some were those of disgust and hatred, others were full of happiness. Then, he saw Jena. The effects of vampirism had been kind to her angelic face. She was not absolutely gorgeous; she looked just like any other Imperial woman. Her personality was what got him the most. Jena's joking nature kept him happy, even though he did not want to be. He shook his head and returned back to Octavian. "Ralas told me it contained the soul of a powerful vampiric mage who broke our most sacred of rules," Acerbus answered.

"Well, chap, I'm not fightin' you with that thin'," Octavian said. He sheathed his sword and walked over to him. "Oh, and nice amulet, mate."

Acerbus nodded put his blade back into its scabbard. He turned and left the room, angry that he did not get to use his new weapon. Jena ran up to him. "Hey, nice sword. Don't worry about Octavian; he's just a scaredy-guar. Anyway, do you want to go to dinner?" She asked, chuckling at her own joke.

"Sure, but I'd rather eat in my room. I don't like the mindless pvssyr that goes on in there. They would rather talk about things they don't know about and not what they do," Acerbus answered. They made their way over to the dining hall, all the while Jena joking the whole way.

Acerbus wasn't hungry, so he grabbed a bottle of bloodwine and headed towards his room. "You aren't hungry?" Jena asked as she pulled an apple from a sheepskin bag and began to eat it.

"No, this blood will do just fine, thanks anyways," he answered.

They arrived in his room. Acerbus sat opposite of Jena. She took a bite of the dried beef and took a drink of her mead. As Acerbus drunk the last of the bloodwine, he could feel his facial features coming back. He strong jawline inched back into place and his cheeks regained some of the lost fat they once had in them.

"How come Ralas gave you that sword?" Jena asked, breaking the peaceful silence. Acerbus looked up from his lap, wondering whether he should tell her or not.

"He said that with my recent assassination, that I deserved it. I don't feel as though I do," Acerbus lied. He knew she would overreact to something like leading a war against werewolves so he kept that to himself.

"Strange, that doesn't sound like Ralas at all. Are you telling me the truth, Ace?" Jena questioned, this time seriously. Acerbus swallowed the heavy lump in his throat, looked up at her and smiled; even though it looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"Well, Jena, I have been chosen for something dangerous and it could possibly be my demise. I have to lead the war against the Lycanthropes."

"Acerbus, you can't! Those things'll kill you. How could they do this to me?" She asked, looking as though she was going to shed tears. "I've known you too long for you to die. Let me come."

"I will have to discuss that with the Council. I cannot promise anything as of now," Acerbus answered softly. The only crying he ever wanted to see would be when his victims were on the verge of becoming his next meal; he felt pity for Jena. "I'll talk to them tomorrow night." She nodded, stood up, and left the room. Acerbus could tell she would not be the same for a long while.

+++++

"Acerbus can complete his assignment. Do you recall the assignment he was on several years ago?" Ralas asked the Council. The pitch black confines of the Forbidden Room, felt warm to his flesh. "He butchered every expertly trained Orcish warrior on the payroll of Lord Ugak-gro-Haglack. I, for one, have never seen so much blood spilled to kill a single man. That proved his prowess in combat, nonetheless."

Every member of the Council nodded in approval. Then, the Khajiit ancient, J'Keri, spoke up, "Why did you give him the sword with which his father was trapped in? You should tell him, Ralas. I know we are cold creatures but no man should go without knowing his own father. Tell him before he leaves on his journey."

Ralas was very concerned. The powerful blade that Acerbus was given did indeed have the soul of his father trapped inside, not the insane vampiric mage he had told him. Finally, Ralas broke the silence and said, "He will be told when he returns. It is my decision not yours, J'Keri."

I just did.
Only if you feel my opinion has any weight. If not, do as you like.

Read the next chapter, friend.

Well, you asked for it. *rubs her hands together*

Disclaimer: Please note that the following critique is an attempt at constructive criticisim, and is not meant to put down the writer or his/her work. It is meant to illuminate the writer's strengths and weaknesses, and the simple fact that it's so damned long should be testament to how much potential said writer obviously has. However, this critique is also the expression of a single poster's opinion, and should be taken with a grain of salt. If you don't agree with something I bring up, go ahead and ignore it. I will not be insulted if you do.

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To be fair, Peleus had a valid point about the childishness thing. The reason why it seemed childish laid in the way you transitioned: "He shook the idea from his mind and entered the training room. He was eager to see what Excessum could do. He saw his good friend, Octavian, and said, 'Hey, Octavian. Let's spar.'" The issue here is that the flow of writing moves too quickly from "Here is this uber awesome sword of doom" to "Hey, oh pal of mine, wanna fight?". It simply followed too closely. For some reason, the logical step was that he wanted to show off the sword to his friend, instead of that he wanted to see what the sword could do. I'm not sure why, but that's the way it read. I simply mention it because you should be aware of what you did that made it that way.

You're good at setting tone, with ample descriptions to convey the setting as you want it. You obviously have a picture in your head, and it's something out of a classic vampire movie. Every once in a while, you revert to cliched phrases ("One cut the dirty man-beast across his large muscular arm, causing him to bleed out onto the cold hard dirt" in Chapter Two, and "The pitch black confines of the Forbidden Room" in the end of Chapter Four). Keep an eye out for those, as, when used too often, they can really become distracting, and that's terrible for the kind of mood you want to set. Be creative with your descriptions; I highly suspect that you can do it.

Your mechanics are sound, for the most part. A couple punctuation and grammar blips here and there, but it's not really a problem, so I don't feel the need to comment on them.

My lore alarm went off pretty early on, with regards to something that you barely even touched on. Personally, I find it very difficult to believe that the Fangs would have simply phased the DB out... I would assume that there is or was some sort of huge assassin war? The Dark Brotherhood would not take someone encroaching on their territory lightly. It's not really something you need to worry too much about (since the story is about something completely different), but just be aware that I'd like a bit more development about that.

My main issue is that I don't really feel attached to Acerbus. Don't get me wrong; it's great to see him after Sryner's RP died. Anne might have had problems with him, but I never did.

However, I find myself rather apathetic to him as a character. I think the issue is that you rely too much on his vampirism as a character trait... let me explain.

I love vampires. They're just awesome in general, and often awesome in particular. Two of my favorite characters from Oblivion are Vicente Valtieri and Janus Hassildor, and one of by own main three characters is a vampire. I simply love them. Therefore, you will never see me complain about someone creating a vampire character. Sure, it's a cliche that gives spawn to more cliches, but the Awesome factor often rules that out, for me.

However, there should be more to a character than just that. Vicente has a slick sense of humor and a garlic allergy, and Hassildor is a cloistered noble/wizard who has a refined sense of taste and does what is best for his county. They have personalities outside the dark, mysterious mein that the disease seems to automatically generate.

Acerbus doesn't seem to have that. He is a vampire, not a person with vampirism, if you take my meaning. He's brooding, mysterious, and oh-so-serious, as far as we can tell. As someone who really likes vampires, I am going to tell you straight out that I have seen Acerbus' personality hundreds of times before, and by now, it's boring.

It's made even worse by this line in regards to the main character: "He butchered every expertly trained Orcish warrior on the payroll of Lord Ugak-gro-Haglack. I, for one, have never seen so much blood spilled to kill a single man. That proved his prowess in combat, nonetheless." This is, in a word, uber. I appreciate that you don't make vampires in general uber, but Acerbus in particular is no better. I'm sorry, but "super-duper mega powerful ninja assassins" are only interesting if the reader sees them become that way. Coming in after they've become powerful gives us nothing to relate to, and then they become just another assassin character.

Don't get me wrong: I love assassins just as much as I love vampires. My favorite two book series of all time are both about assassins. I NEVER protest against someone writing a story about an assassin simply because the character is an assassin.

However, the key here is in HOW you write it. Your vampire assassin must bear the burdens of his cliches until you figure out a way to overcome them. Yes, vampire assassins are cool... but they've been written about over and over and over again. You need to make Acerbus unique.

Keep in mind that I am not bashing your character; that will never be my goal. I am pointing out how I read him, and you can take or leave my opinion as you choose. You obviously love your character, and you're passionate about writing him. That's great. But, perhaps, you could convey a bit more about him to the readers? What makes him tick? How did he get the way he is today? What was his past like (although I suspect you'll go into it as the plot goes on, what with his pop being bound up in that sword and all)? What are his interests, weaknesses, hopes, fears, goals? Open him up to me, and I'll be more willing to accept him.

Keep in mind that this critique is just that; I mean no insult, although I sometimes come off that way. If you find yourself angered or upset by something I said, walk away for a while. Take some time to detach yourself from it... then come back and read it again with a cool head. If you find that you don't agree with what I said, that's okay. It's just an opinion, and I won't be insulted if you don't take it as absolute fact. I simply offer myself out there in interest of offering you a different perspective; what you do with it is your decision.

And, finally, it's easy to tell that you're loving this. Let's be honest; writing about assassins and vampires is just great fun. So.... just keep writing it, if that's what you want to do. You dn't have to please everyone (especially not me!), so write because it feels good, and because you enjoy it. That's the most important part of fanfiction: that you enjoy it. Readers are secondary.

Don't worry about upsetting me, B. That's the kind of critique I've been waiting for. I will take what you said to heart and make Acerbus different from my RP versions of him. Thanks so much.

Well, I've read it. BSparrow got the meat of it so I will abstain on this one.

And you don't get any comments, V?

Yeah, ha. Good one, Reds. :rofl: