Astaroth scanned the dead battlefield eyeing with lust the rivers of blood flowing from the body piles. The battle had ended just before the wolves had turned back and cost him a great deal, although insolent and disgusting everything had its worth.
Watching the youngest vampires killing the wounded, both wolve and human alike he was delighted that more blood joined the already swelling pools.
Astaroth Glided over to the nearest pool, unable to contain his lust and hatred all put into one feeling. Taking off his clothes he slowly revealed his perfectly formed naked figure, his slightly bulging muscles combined with his near deathly slim body and pale white skin he was a picture of frightening beauty until you saw his face. An entrancing mix of elven fine features and an entrancing stream of natural magic cast over his eyes. People could stare into those eyes for an hour and not even notice until their neck and been torn out and he was draining their lifeblood.
Slowly letting himself into the deepest pool he savoured the feel of thick blood running over his arms. The fresher the blood the better, lately he had only been able to get old blood from outside his city in the marshes. His prisoners had long since died of old age. As he dipped himself deeper his face fell under the blood. A tingle ran through his face and he knew he would begin to look younger in seconds. Not having any breath he could stay under here for hours, but then he could come out looking like a baby ... that would probably not strike the right fear into the hearts of his enemies