I need some opinions

[hatakraa]

Hi everypony, hatakraa here. I am writing a book and I am just starting it up. Still working with the plot but I got a rough first chapter near to completion(it's not done yet) but I thought I would post it up here and get some opinions on it. It's going to be called Bittersweet Violin. So if anyone would be nice enough to give opinions and constructive criticism, I would be more than grateful.

Chapter Zero

The year was 1834 in Bran, Transylvania. It was a dark night where the wind was singing of the horrors it encountered. The rain was falling that night like tears as if they were slowing down with every second passed. The glass window, beautifully escaping the rain that night, gasped for a drink with every creak. There were two dark figures, each with a glass of blood and fangs which were close in colour to bleached ivory.

“We must not allow such an offense upon ourselves! A church, on our lands? Surely they will try to destroy us. We must force our perfect wills upon them before their “God” demands our destruction!”

“My brother, just because you share our fathers’ name, does not make you the speaker of his will. Calm your mind Vlad.”

Vlad then twisted his view sharply from the window to his brothers’ eyes. “Do not presume that you can guide my hand Dragos, I am still your elder by 5 years. Your foolish compassion for mankind has led you astray into calming the thunder strikes that must be shot down onto the weak.” Grabbing his brother by the collar and pushing him against the wall. “Then do not presume to know your enemy, my dear brother. You do not know whether they are protestant or catholic. Nor do you know the flock of this church and their plans. If you rush into battle without knowing the battlefield, you are fooling yourself into believing in a false victory. Calm yourself brother. Time will show us all.” Letting go and walking back to his seat, he grabbed his cup and took a sip.

“Dragos, why must you always play the fool? This compassion will lead you to your destruction.”

“And your warlike nature, your own.”

Finishing his glass, he walked to the window and stared down at the village at the bottom of the hill. “We have a bigger enemy on our doorstep brother. This Order of the Dragon. I hear they will do whatever their “God” tells them to do, even if it be to murder people in their sleep. How cowardly must they be to do such a thing?” Joining his brother at the window, Vlad finished his glass and set it down.

“They are not a threat Dragos, they are but foolish men. And men can be turned or destroyed. Now my little brother, we have a ball to attend this fine night, we should dare not miss it; for all the finest drink and women will be there.”

“Finest drink indeed” he said as he chuckled and walked with his brother down the corridor to the main ball room. A young man, around the age of 17 with the deepest red eyes singing around their blue center came around the corner holding his mask. The mask itself was a spectacle in and of itself. A emotion of each side to cover the head completely. Made of human skin it dripped tears which dared not fall from the mask. “Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes, what are you doing up here. I thought I told you not to bother Dragos and I.” “Father, mother asked me to bring you to the ball, she is anxious to see the dance of the blades that you arrange every 50 years. I’m a little anxious as well.