The twelve little players drank the "Wine of Immortality" together.
That was the name Triss had given the blood-origin mixture, thanks to her vampire's boundless artistic flair. She had to admit, it was quite fitting.
As the other players watched with bated breath, the twelve felt as if their bodies were being pierced by thousands upon thousands of needles. In an instant, a vast amount of "blood mist" burst from their bodies. A swirl of psychic energy circled the little players, making it seem as if they were enveloped in crimson motes of light.
The blood looked real, but it was only a catalyst for the alchemical potion.
On closer inspection, the process was no different from Carcar and Niu Niu's new-race experience last time. It was just a more artistic presentation.
The psychic energy that made up the players' bodies was scattered and reassembled. While barely maintaining their shape, it merged the Sinborn blood carried in the source blood into their psychic projections, fundamentally transforming their life forms in this world.
At the same time, Murphy and Maxim, who were presiding over the Embrace ceremony, began casting their spells.
They raised their fingers and let their blood seep from their fingertips, slowly blending it into the crimson storm before them. They weren't giving their own blood to the players; they were simply marking them with the "scent of their sires" so other vampires could tell whom they belonged to.
It was like a "scent" only vampires could pick up.
This was both necessary and essential.
If you wanted to get along in vampire society, a decent pedigree was a must! Murphy was the perfect cautionary example in that regard. The sorry state he'd been reduced to after Triss dragged him into trouble was still fresh in everyone's minds.
Lady