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... Kraub's eyes blazed in the glow of the lamps as his finger jammed repeatedly at the map spread upon the huge table before he and his officers...
" Here...my Brothers...as the Lord Himself has shown me....the Beast have gathered...in numbers both great and small..." Kraub said, his voice low and vicious " Here...in the Old World...and again here in New Sodom..Here near the City of Depravity...and even here...in what should be a province of our Lord...the Beast lurk...crouching in shadows...or worse moving in arrogance...they are there My Brothers....and it is the will of the Almighty that they be purged...purified..it is our most Holy Duty to send these abominations screaming into Hell.."
The assembled Officers of The Six Fingered Hand nodded in unison " We shall purge...we shall purify...In The name of the most High...we shall cleanse."

Kraub leaned back in his high backed chair, a dark smile crossing his craggy features " It is as the Lord has shown me Brothers...We will not fail in this our most sacred of missions...as the Hand of the Lord...we shall sweep this evil away."
Again the assembled Brother spoke together " In his Name...the Hand shall strike"
" The go...ready your forces" Kraub said, his cold eyes gleaming " In the name of the most High...we strike"

2 Weeks Ago...


The blood stench filled the room. Severed parts of Alice hung from the ceiling, as well as being nailed to the floorboards. Covered in blood, Fenrir sneezed a bit, showing the most emotion in hours. Placing the "Rabbit", a disturbing icon of an old race, in the center of the organ-pentigram, she called for the men to join her in the bedroom.

"Fuckfaces! Get your wolf asses in here!" She wiped the gelled blood from her arms, the sanguine ichor going everywhere. The men entered, and were hit with a wall of stench. The average human, with normal senses, would vomit at the smell. Musater and Longar, with the most heightened senses in the animal kingdom, merely coughed a bit.

"I can see you've been busy." Musater stared at Alice's head, now scalped, and with her fingerless hands protruding from her head. "And I'm guessing that's the 'Rabbit'" He stepped over the entrails and into the spot, marke in blood, by a large M. Longar headed to the L.

"Good. Now that we're all here, we can enter the Crooked World." She smiled, revealing her red teeth, gore strewn about in the crevasses. Musater flashed her a quick smile, but then went back to his straight face. Longar was laughing a bit, as always.

"Please, put your hand on mine." The being known as Fenrir placed her hand over the Rabbit. Longar did so, as well, and Musater placed his hand last. Faster than they could react, the sharpened femur of Alice pierced their hands, bining them together. Closing his eyes in pain, as they all did, Musater felt a slight... Pop. Like he had held an exploding balloon. He opened his eyes. The bone was gone, but the hole remained. Looking up, Musater had a small heart attack. They weren't at the hotel. Instead, the three had somehow managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war. It was a dark back alley, and the groups were advancing on each other. They paused as the three emerged from whatever hole brought them here, but advanced nonetheless. Sighing, Musater drew his pistol. The group he was aiming at looked at it, then began to run. Longar drew his sword, and Fenrir cocked her shotgun.

It wasn't until they heard the audience gasp that they knew that there was something wrong. He looked out into the crowd, and saw something he wish he hadn't. Hundreds of Vampyres. They were everywhere. Some were screaming, a few were passed out, and one was trying to rush the stage. He drew a small caliber weapon, most likely .22 rimfire, and pointed it at Fenrir.

"Put the gun down and I won't shoot!" She smiled as she ripped out the man's soul. He went limp, all color taken from his sunken in cheeks. She laughed as Longar hopped into the crowd, picking off those who drew weapons. And she doubled over as she looked at Musater's face. He was smirking. They were here. Of course, the smirk didn't last long. Someome had decked Musater, and pinned him. Struggling to fight off his attacker, another man pointed a gun to his head.

"Good evening, bilge rat. I'm Resetti, and you just ruined my play. Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you and your friends?" Musater looked around. They had Fenrir in cuffs, and duct tape over her mouth, so no curses could be uttered, and they had tranquilized Longar. His limp body was escorted out of the theatre by 6 monsters. They looked like patchwork men, thing that not even Musater's twisted mind would come up with.

"Give us candy and kisses?" Musater smiled a bit, his hand slowly going for Widowmaker.

"Oh no. I'm going to kill you. Well, not me, really. But you are going to die." Musater felt a jab as a hypodermic needle peirced his flesh. He drew his pistol, and tried to aim it at Resetti. "Oh, silly boy. You're going to need that ammo where you're going."






---------------------------------------------------






Current Day...

The smell of waste and fecal matter was prevalent. The straw mattress did nothing for his back. The sound of Resetti opening the cage became familiar, almost calming. Almost.

"Nice work, yesterday. Shame about your foot, but we'll get that fixed up. Don't want the Future Champion to be killed, do we?" He ruffled Musater's hair, and left. The guards entered after him, unchaining him from his bed.

"Longar. Fenrir. Wake up." He washed his face in the communal bucket, the dirty water making his bloody face a bit cleaner, but the caked on vitae was stubborn.

"What.... What time is it...." She rubbed her eyes, her red hands leaving a small mark on her dusty face. Longar woke as well, his massive chains rattling as he yawned. The guards unlocked them as well.

"Alright, maggots. Time for training." Cornelius was always up before they were, even though they always got 4 hours of sleep. The Ghoul seemed not to sleep, and not to eat. Fenrir asked him what kind of magic he used, and he laughed. "When you work here, you learn how to live on 2 hours of sleep and half a hot meal." He replied. He always was in a good mood, and today was no exception.

"Cornelius, it's 2 in the morning. Can't we get a bit more sleep?" Fenrir's eyes were drooping, the bags larger than from the previous night.

"You know as well as I do that there's no rest here." He lead his fighters down to the training pit, Musater limping a bit from his last fight. The Humanii had smuggled in a bottle of acid, and it didn't feel good on his boots. He killed him slowly, carving his name into the bastard's forehead. Shame he died after the A.

"No fight today. Just practice. And Musater, head down to the medical wing. Your sponsor wanted to get your limp fixed up." Musater looked at Neil, as they affectionately called him.

"Don't worry, Neil, I'm fine." He kicked the head off of the practice dummy to show him. Neil shrugged, and went back to Fenrir. She was a odd girl. She couldn't fight for her life, but she seemed to kill people with a single kick, anywhere. And the Monster, Longar, he didn't need training. Resetti had made him a trainer, and already, he had killed 4 of his students due to exhaustion. So they made him a fighter again, pitting him in 3 on 1 matches, which he considered "Unfair Odds". He wanted to give them a sporting chance, so he fought blindfold. That didn't help his opponents.

It would be 12 hours before they got a meal. Longar demanded Humanii, and they obliged, not wanting to anger him. Musater wanted animal flesh, and Fenrir didn't eat. The table they sat at was designated for the trainers, but no-one cared. It wasn't as if guards actually obeyed the rules. They just knew who not to feth with, and who they could bully around.

"So, about yesterday's fight." Niel put down his soup, and Musater his roadkill. "You should have gone for his left flank. He had a bum knee, and was mildly weak with his punches."

"He threw a bottle of acid at my foot." Musater gestured to his mangled boot.

"That shouldn't change anything. You know that." He drank the last bit of soup, and mopped the rest up with the bread he stole from the guard table.

"He threw a bottle of acid at my foot." Musater looked at his trainer. "That changes everything."

"Look, whatever you're doing, keep doing it. All I'm saying is that a gimp foot doesn't mean you can't break the feth's kneecap and cripple him for Fenrir to come in." He got up and put his tray on the cart behind him, the Ghoul busboy rinsing it before shuffling to the kitchen. Fenrir patted him on the back.

"At least you're not dead." She chuckled as she got up, and went back with Neil to the training room. Longar went as well, trying to figure out how to hit two targets with a single hand axe. Musater finished his roadkill, probably some sort of skunk, and went back to the training room. Pulling out his Machete, he began to sharpen it. The metal sparks illuminated his face. Caked dirt and grime were revealed, as well as a smile from Musater. Tomorrow, he would kill again. He was liking it. It reminded him of the good old days.

He drifted into his thoughts as he honed his blade. His perfect, disturbing thoughts....

BIC:………….Arl’nev, the Black City: part 2………

Vegas ears rang as they were escorted out off the massive halls. Many Kindred placing their hands on her as she passes. One even managed to pull out some hair. Vegas growled and even bit someone. But that only seemed to amuse them. “Humans are so savage.” She heard one of them state. The party continued as the prisoners were lead out, by the black clad guards, which were apparently called the Crimson guard. The protectors of Arl’nev. The party continued as the ornate doors closed behind them, covering everyone in blissful silence. Apparently the celebrations would continue until the Games would begin, a gift from the benevolent Mattheus to the New Bloods and ghouls of the city. The guards had no remorse as they pushed them forwards. They walked through the long halls, often passing Prometheans maintaining the neatness of the house. And occasionally a Vampire who had chosen not to participate in the celebrations. Until finally, they left the building. An enormous desolated courtyard stood before them, intricate symbols visible on the tiles. The only thing standing on it was a prison cart, pulled by four magnificent pure blood horses. The crimson guard unceremoniously pushed them in, chaining them to the massive iron bars. “I hope you will die slow.” One of the guard whispered in her ear. “Cause I will enjoy every moment of it, it will please the memory of my brother who you have recently slain.” Vegas laughed. “You mean that quivering coward? He deserved nothing but an honor less death.” The guard growled as he slammed his fist in Vegas stomach. “That was for my beloved brother he hissed, closing the cage. A whip cracked, and the horses pulled the cart into motion. “Your brother was no better than an exciled one.” Vegas insulted him. The vampire was furious, bloodlust clearly visible. Yet his partner hold him back. “She’s the possession of Mattheus, don’t be a fool.” He reasoned. Vegas grinned as they were carried away from the estate. “Nice work.” Michael muttered. “We’re in the middle of teeth heaven and you have nothing better to do then insult them.” Vegas just pulled up her shoulders. It didn’t matter, they were all death anyway.

The iron gates at the end of the elaborated garden opened. Electric lights illuminating the plants, making sure they’d get enough light to survive the eternal night. The Kindred had destroyed the ecosystem of the planet, yet ironically they were the only ones trying to preserve it. The prison cart rattled out of the luxurious estate, directly into the dark bowls of the city. The streets were full of activity. Vampires and ghouls all ran through each others. Vendors shouted as loud as possible, hoping to sell their goods. Naked woman watched down from the balcony trying to lure people into their bed. Even creatures of other dimension walked the street. Observing the local ambience. A small brown gremlin riding an enormous spider passed the cart. Nearly avoiding a crushing death under the hooves of the horses. The drivers cursed and shouted trying to make their way through the masses. Some even pointed at the cart. “Gladiators, look gladiators!” But most ignored the cart, occupied with their own needs. A woman dressed in a ballroom dress, slowly walked through the streets, wich somehow always seemed to twist and bent. Suddenly two scruffy individuals crawled out off a dark alley. Jumping on their unsuspecting victim. She hissed, with her naked fangs before the two men ripped her apart. A whistle tore through the crowd as the city guards made their way to the scene. One off the assailants jumped up, looking at the crowd. “These streets are property of the Linux, and we defend our turf with blade and blood.” He exclaimed, before both the gang members disappeared. Leaving the molested body behind, a ghoul running away with her still twitching arm.

The prison cart slowly made it’s way to the center of Arl’nev, where a giant replica of Rome’s coliseum stood. The Arena, where they would fight and die. The cart pulled away from the busy boulevard leading into a small side street. At the end there was a wooden palisade, the gate opened, revealing a courtyard, filled with men, fighting each other, the deep breaths of exhaustions. Blood spilled in the sand. Vegas got freed from her chains as did the rest of her crew. A Large Asian man walked towards them, holding a viciously barbed whip. “I am Astor, the keeper of the pitt. Welcome to my domain, welcome to the game of death.” His eyes looking at everyone until they locked with Vegas. “May your deaths be memorable.”

OOC: Over to you chowder.

Astral De’von walked down the busy Las Vegas street, hands in his coat. His mind grabbed ahold of many insignificant things, such as a street lamp, or the clothes the Humans were wearing. He closed his eyes, letting the breeze rush through him. Such a peaceful evening. Not for long, he thought, smiling. He had not killed for two weeks now, and felt the need to. He needed to kill, and avenge the death of his father. And to feed on the flesh. He thought about his father, and the stories told of him. A strong, proud warrior, utterly ruthless to his enemy. That enemy being the Humans. Astral just had to find a way to lure a Human somewhere. And the best way to do that? Blend in with society. De’von walked down a narrow path, finding a Diner. He walked in, seing many Humans sat down, chattering while eating their meal. He nodded to the waitress, who smiled at him.

“Right this way, sir.” She started walking. Astral followed her, and she led him to a seat, with a modern table. She handed him a menu. Astral looked through it, wondering what would be ordered. Doesn’t matter, he thought. This shall just be an appetizer. Steak, Salmon, Tortellini, Burgers. Astral decided on the Steak. He waited as the waitress came back, and was ready to take his order.

“I’ll take the steak.” Astral said plainly. She nodded, wrote down his order, then left. Not that enthusiastic, thought Astral. He lay down in the chair, ignoring the looks of the other diners. He waited about five minutes, and the waitress was back with his steaming meal. He took the plate, eyeing it carefully, as if it were poisoned. He finally decided on eating it, and took his first bite. It tasted good, almost like Human flesh, and warm. He quickly devoured it, tasting every bite. He licked his lips, satisfied. Alas, cannot get too full before the main course. The waitress came over, taking the plate. He gave her his credit card, and left a five dollar tip. After getting his credit card, he went outside, wondering which Human to eat. He eyed a fat Human. No. He looked back at the diner, noticing the waitress coming out, carrying her purse. Perfect. He quickly followed her, which led to a dark alaleyway, where her car was. She turned around, and smiled.

“Can I help you, sir?” She asked. Astral walked closer, then stopped. He grabbed her throat, squeezing it tight. She gasped for air, making him squeeze even tighter. She squirmed around for a second, then went limp. He smiled, laughing coldly. Now, he thought, I can get to my meal.

The outdoor range was the only place he could get some peace and quiet. this time of day it was deserted, just a row of awnings with small cubicles for the person in question to fire his weapon at. Out beyond the line were hundreds of yards of flat open space pockmarked with stand up targets of all shapes and sizes. Somewhere off to his right was where the wolves trained to shoot more...exotic weapons and this was indicated by the craters in that part of the field where the sand and dirt was burned black and were filled with glass beads. But he was not here to make loud booms echo across the Den's grounds.

Alex watched the arc of his arrow zip through the air and embed itself in the center bulls eye of the target about fifty yards away. In his left hand he held his favored weapon; a modified hunting bow. It was an implement long thought obsolete by the invention of firearms but Alex had faced down many a gun toting goon with the bow he held, he was still around and they weren't and that was his testimony. It was more than just a weapon it was a piece of heritage, he came from a long line of proud people who fought and died by the bow and by the knife. He sighed, there were few of his kind left, and he wasn't necessarily thinking of lycans either.

He reached behind him to grab two more bolts out of his quiver and set them on the bow with a fluid, trained motion. He pulled his fingers along their fletching and drew the bow back. Shooting two arrows at once was a feat even trained archers found difficult to accomplish successfully but Alex had had much longer to practice than most archers. The bow string stretched back in the crook of his right hand and came back near his temple with a tight stretching twinge. At their tips were sharp silver heads; lycan killers, he also carried wooden tipped arrows with him but they were a bit trickier to shoot, the only way to nail a vampire down with one was a straight shot to the heart, any other glancing blow would just break and probably end in royally pissing off the leech in question.

With a moment of squinting hesitation Alex took a breath and with the exhalation let the arrows go with a twang of the bow, the two arrows sailed straight into their intended target and the trio of arrow shafts that stuck out of the target formed a triangle.

It was just an action he was familiar with, the drawing and firing of the bow, something he didn't even need to think about to do, it was one of those things he just did to focus and think. Harlow's words, however in passing they had been had made him think about himself. He knew what he was, he had come to terms with it long since, so why did he feel so detached from his kind? Why did he feel the entire prospect was...unnatural? Undesirable? There was certainly good things about being a lycan and it wasn't that he resented it either...he was...unsatisfied...and he wasn't sure why.

Lycanthropy was in his blood, his mother was one, faintly he remembered the days of his innocent enough childhood on the reservation. Life had been so simple back then even through the fear that permeated that camp when tribe members began to disappear and turn up dead across the region. His mother had tried to protect him, kept his bloodline from him. It was a secret only the fires of war could have uncovered and by the time he had returned to his "home" most of the people he had known in life had either been taken by the mysterious figures he now knew as hunters or had fled into places in the wilderness to hide. Fast forward another lifetime of wandering and here he was, connected to his great grandfather by a common cause. He almost laughed...at how ironic life could be, his existence was the product of a union between a line of hunters and lycans alike, it was interesting how fast the tables could be turned, Alex was sure there were plenty of hunters that had been turned in the line of duty...it was mystifying idea...the only thing separating the two camps being a row of gleaming fangs.

The more Alex thought about Harlow, the more he wondered...If he was any other lycan, Alex would have sworn the wolf would have done a lot more than just give him some advice back there given how fanatical all of the other wolves were. Sometimes it seemed that Harlow was being overly tolerant of him and he certainly wasn't that way to any other lycan. Alex knew it wasn't because of any sense of family relationship, it was because he somehow reminded Harlow of him earlier self. Somewhere in him Alex wondered what it would be like to know that Harlow, he was sure the two of them could have been friends...well, better friends than they were now. Their relationship was mostly mentor-student, though there were a few brighter patches of shared experience in his memories...

For a long time Alex had learned to live with being a lycan, but Harlow had taught him how to fight like one...

---------------------------------------------

8 months ago...

Sometimes this new life could strain a man's nerves...Alex had been deep in restful sleep after the end of a recon mission across the region when some servant had banged on the door to his chambers at some ungodly hour of the night. he'd answered groggily and grumpily, probably snapping at the messenger by accident but he was so foggy right now he couldn't really remember. He'd just slipped his jacket on and ambled out into the dark hallways of the den. The messenger said that Harlow wanted him but didn't say why and left as soon as the message was out of his mouth. Alex walked barefoot through the halls until he got to Harlow's chambers, wondering why the man didn't just come talk to him himself. When he got there, Harlow was missing from the large room but a servant was there cleaning the area. He was bemused to see Alex standing there and an awkward moment passed between them as the haze from being woken mid sleep passed from Alex's min enough for him to speak.

"He called for me, where the hell is he?" Alex asked a bit annoyed. The servant went back to cleaning but answered.

"Downstairs somewhere, he didn't say, but he took his knife." He said. Alex made an inquisitive grunt which was all he could articulate as a question at this time of night.

"I know...curious isn't it?" He asked himself aloud. "You'd better go find out what he wants." He said, dismissing him as he went to go find something else to do. Alex left the room, not exactly sure what stupid game Harlow was playing at but having little patience for it either way.

Alex made his way to a staircase that led to an underground part of the Den...he walked amongst the many chambers that lined the halls, looking for the familiar form of Harlow or at least a small whiff of his scent. As he went deeper he didn't see any figures , nor did he smell the wolf's scent but he did begin to smell something hot...burning even...it was a very distinctive coppery burn that smelt like...burning metal? As he went farther down the hall he began to hear faint clanging of metal on metal. It was distinct, regular, it banged against the air with a monotone pattern and a steady beat. The sound and smell were both coming from the last chamber at the end of the hallway. Alex approached and curiously opened it, a blast of warm air hit him in the face as he opened the metal door. He walked in to see the room dimly lit. A figure was hunched over an anvil, wearing gloves and striking something with a hammer, sending bright orange sparks flying with every blow. Another second of scrutinization revealed that it was indeed Harlow, the man was sweating profusely from working down here for a while apparently. The man turned as Alex closed the door and smiled slightly as he dragged his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat.

"Looks like you slept well." Harlow teased as he used a giant set of metal pliers to shift a glowing red and orange slab of metal from the anvil to a trough of water by his side where it steamed loudly with a billowing cloud of white steam.

"Was...sleeping well." Alex said, making his annoyance plain. "Apparently I'm the only one who does that around here."

"Well..." Harlow said with a chuckle. "Too much fun to be had to sleep all night." He shrugged as if that explained everything. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't take you for that kind of person." He just said in his sleep deprived state. Harlow chuckled.

"Pffft...Trust me, if that was true there'd be a lot more to show for it than just you." He said. Alex couldn't help but snicker at that a bit, perhaps it was his grogginess but it seemed funny at the time.

"You wanted me?" He asked simply.

"Right, pack your things, we're going on a little trip." Harlow said, turning back to the anvil and taking the slab of metal from the trough and throwing it into the flaming furnace to his other side. Alex was dumbfounded at the man's sudden aptness.

"Where to?"

"Up north, bout time I show you how its done."

"How what's done?" Alex snapped, he didn't like this beating around the bush. All he got was a short chortle from Harlow who was intent on the work in front of him.

"You'll see. You wont be needing any weapons, so don't bring them."

"Not even my knife?" Alex asked still confused. Harlow thought about it for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, bring that, but nothing else, we're just going to have a little fun is all." He said with another half smile that Alex didn't like the look of.

"What are you doing anyway?" Alex asked indicating the forge. Harlow was silent for another moment.

"Making a new weapon for a new war." He said simply. Alex was still unsure but his sleepy state prevented him from caring so he left to go back and get some sleep and get ready in the morning.

It turned out that the next morning the two were taking a plane to Anchorage, Alaska and then another bush pilot's plane out into the wilderness. The entire time, Alex desperately wanted to know what exactly was going on but knowing Harlow, he would only tell him when the man was good and ready, there was no fighting it so the two said little to each other during the trip...They were back on the frosty ground within half a day, the land was lit with the twilight of a never ending day this close to the earth's north pole. The two made their way to a small town near the small strip of flat land the bush pilot considered a runway. The town sat on the edge of natural obliteration, nothing but untamed, merciless, desolate wilderness a hundred miles in all directions. Night followed, or something close to night at that point as the sun never fully went behind the horizon this season, as Alex and Harlow sat in a little lodge near a fire, Alex popped th question, unable to hold his curiosity any longer.

"What are we doing out here in the ass end of nowhere?" He snapped, looking over at Harlow who was going through some luggage they had brought with them.

"Hmm? Oh, we're going hunting tomorrow." He said as he continued.

"Hunting? I thought you said not to bring any weapons." Alex said becoming more agitated.

"Not that kind of hunting, we're doing it the old fashioned way." Harlow said with a slight smile as he brought out a long leather scabbard with a large handle sticking out of it.

With a small tug Harlow brought out his new weapon; it was a long, broad, wickedly curved blade that bore some resemblance to his older bowie knife which he'd used to forge the new one. To call it a knife would be misleading however as the new on was somewhere in between a knife and a sword, its blade being almost two feet long; blackened except along the edge where the gleam of true silver showed the razor sharp cutting edge. Along its back was a false edge near the top and the entire length of its reverse side was cruelly serrated. Alex had seen its type before; it was definitely a hunting knife but it was actually more along the lines of a machete in size.

"Let me get this straight, you're going hunting with a knife?" Alex asked still not able to fully grasp what Harlow's intent was. Harlow just looked at him plainly.

"Don't look so surprised, you're coming with me." He said reassuringly.

"Are you seriously thinking about hunting the humans in this town?" Alex asked, thinking he'd finally scored what was going on, but Harlow looked at him with a raised eyebrow and shook his head.

"Nah, the thing about small towns is that when somebody goes missing everybody notices and us being outsiders we'll be the first ones to draw suspicion." He said examining the newly forged blade with a gleam of pride. "Think about it...what's the closest thing to a lycan you can find around these parts?"

Alex thought about the question for a moment while the flames in the fireplace flickered, casting dancing shadows along the walls of the chilly cabin.

"A bear?" He asked tentatively, Harlow nodded.

"Yep, its mating season too I hear...so the odds of us finding a feisty one are good." He said with a chuckle. Alex looked at him with something approaching disbelief.

"You want to go out hunting bears in the cold and dirt with nothing but knives?" he asked his tone matching his expression.

"You make it sound like a bad thing. C'mon this'll be fun." Harlow persisted. Alex was about to argue with him but decided better of it in the end, Harlow was more stubborn than a brick wall sometimes so there wasn't much point in refusing. He tried to convince himself that night that Harlow knew what he was doing but in the end there was still a voice in the back of his head that told him this was a bad idea.

The next day the two of them got started early, taking all their baggage with them into the wilderness. They walked for a while, enjoying the scenery, the clear air, the placid water and blue skies above them. Alex had never been to Alaska and he had to admit that he liked it a lot better than the cramped confines of the Den or any other city he'd been to for that matter. There was a certain sense of freedom that welled up inside of him as he trotted along the unblazed paths in the cold. The two of them were both wearing heavy winter clothing as the winds buffeted them. It was bitter cold but the openness of the land made something inside him just want to break out into a run, not a sprint of fear but one born of just enjoying himself. It wasn't long, a few hours, maybe around noon, when Harlow crouched over something along a stream. He pointed to it.

"See this?" He asked. Alex looked at the distinct mark in the dirt of the ground. The print was massive and had claw indentations coming from above the area where the print's toes were. It was a bear track and it was a damn big one at that.

"Tracks." Alex said plainly, stating the obvious. Harlow poked at it with his fingers.

"Dry...its probably a day or more old then." He said sighing. "Well, its better than nothing, they go through this stream, c'mon."

Harlow led Alex over a rocky, muddy ford across the stream. One time Alex almost fell but was able to regain his footing. He breathed with relief, he couldn't imagine how cold the water was in the stream below. The two followed the tracks into the bushy areas off of the trail they were on. The trail went cold but Alex was fortunate enough to find a path of broken twigs and branches that the two thought was a good lead. They followed it only toe be rewarded by a big pile of scat. For the rest of the day the two trekked through the forested areas until the twilight hours when it became too cold to go on. Harlow made a fire while Alex prepared some food they brought with them. Once the fire was ready there wasn't much to do but sit there and stare at it, or listen to the sounds around them.

"If we're lucky, this time tomorrow we'll be sticking some of that bear over a fire." Harlow said contently as he warmed himself by the fire.

"What do we do when we don't find it?" Alex asked, he was a bit of a pessimist but that was only because he liked being prepared for when things went haywire.

"Oh we'll find it, don't you worry, today was the easy part, tomorrow we do the fun stuff." Harlow said with a wolfish smile.

"Like?" Alex inquired, putting his cold digits up to the crackling flames. Harlow answered with a laugh.

"Get some sleep." he said as he propped himself against a tree stump next to the fire and put his hat over his eyes. Alex was left to his own thoughts until he drifted into sleep.

It seemed like just a few moments of darkness when the bear woke him with a roar and Alex snapped awake, looking around panicked to see the biggest, nastiest bear he'd seen anywhere hunched over the bloody remains of a body he guessed was Harlow. He could only stare slack jawed as the beast ate the dead wolf's entrails, its own muzzle covered in crimson gristle. As if noticing Alex's sudden awakening, the bear turned to bore its col, black eyes into him. It snarled, growled, turned to face Alex. He wanted desperately to get up, to defend himself or at least get out of the way of the bear. He couldn't even look at Harlow's body without being sick to his stomach. Alex couldn't move, he was paralyzed with fear as the bear advanced, its hackles raised, its entire body covered in his mentor's remains which sloughed off of it in places. It raised on its hind quarters and bared its teeth, putting its huge arms in front of it. It pounced on Alex, he closed his eyes, all he could do was put his arm up feebly to protect himself.

The scene was gone in a snap as something shook Alex awake. He bolted upright in a cold sweat and gasped for air as the dream was still vivid in his mind. Desperately he searched the camp, seeing no bear and strangely no sign of Harlow either...that was until he turned to his left and saw the beast sitting crouched next to him. Harlow's wolf form startled Alex in his newly woken state. He looked Harlow's massive form up and down.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Fun time, lets get going." Harlow said gutturally as he sat on his haunches. This time Alex protested despite himself.

"Are you crazy? Someone might see us!" He said getting up, Harlow managed to convey a displeased look despite his muzzle.

"Do you think I would be like this if I thought anyone would see us in the ass end of nowhere?" He asked harshly. "I ain't askin, lets go." He commanded. Alex grumbled but did as he was told and soon both of them were off from camp, skulking through the brush on all fours. Alex was small and lanky next to Harlow in this form and from afar Harlow was obviously the leader in the little group.

Alex had to admit, this form gave them some huge advantages. All of their senses and all of their strengths were magnified manifold. Both of them kept their noses to the ground as they walked and soon they began to pick up a scent. In another hour they found signs of a struggle in the brush and then a blood trail which gradually got thicker as they followed it. Both of them knew they were close as the came to a clearing in the brush and saw their prey downhill on the snowy plain. Below them a massive Grizzly bear sat hunched over a caribou and ate its red flesh, gorging itself on the animal's insides. Alex watched in wonder, thinking how similar the scene was to his dream. His thoughts were cut by Harlow who began stalking out of the woods.

"There he is, I'll take him from the front, you circle around behind him, he wont get away." Harlow grunted. Alex followed him unsure as they approached and soon the bear took notice of them. It turned, blood smeared, and began to growl, it bore its teeth and raised its hackles, Harlow and Alex responded in kind as was the way animals challenge each other. Harlow went straight at him while Alex gave the bear a wide berth and went around, staring at the beast the entire time.

This is what they had come to kill. He studied the bear, it was massive, even more than Harlow. Its body was slabbed with heavy muscle, fat, and huge amounts of fur. Alex saw its paws, huge digits the size of dinner plates with long claws jutting from each one. They were all caked in blood as was its muzzle which was laden with blood soaked teeth. Alex could feel the aura of primal power coming off this thing and knew the two of them were in a tough spot. Suddenly the bear snapped its head around at Alexa and roared. Alex had not been expecting this and backed up a foot. That was all the time the bear needed. It turned its considerable bulk and charged for Alex with a speed he wouldn't have credited the bear with. It raised on its hind legs and prepped its claws to crush Alex, roaring a bestial cry as it bounded. Fear and panic welled up in Alex as he felt the feelings from his dream overwhelm him. The bear stopped halfway through its strike as it was hit in the back by something which clawed at it. Alex watched as Harlow dug his claws into the bear's back and slashed at it, trying to get at its neck. The bear bucked violently, using its greater momentum to throw Harlow off. Even with his enormous strength, Harlow couldn't hold on.

"Get up! Hit it before--" Harlow yelled trying to snap Alex out of his daze but was thrown from the bear's back and into the snow. Harlow landed with a hard thud and took a second to look up as a towering mass of natural aggression was poised to hit him next. With agility honed from years of practice, Harlow barely rolled out of the way of the bear's thunderous paws. But this move left him open and the bear returned with a swipe of one of its massive paws that caught Harlow on the face, causing him to spin into the snow with a loud, pain induced yelp and remain still.

Alex watched all of this, helpless with a blinding sense of panic, until he saw Harlow go down...something inside of him snapped him back to reality and he acted. Faster than any animal, Alex dove into the bear's side and slashed at it with his own claws. The bear fell over from the attack allowing Alex a bite at its neck. The bear roared with pain and pain induced anger, with one move of its arm Alex went flying into the snow several feet away. Wounded but far from dead, the bear rose again, ejecting a cloud of angry steam from its nose as it grunted. It focused on Alex who began to look fro a way to get out of its charging path. In a flash of brown fur, it was hit from the side again, this time Harlow clamped his own muzzle onto its neck and didn't let go. The bear swayed drunkenly for a moment before plopping on its side and weakly trying to push Harlow away from it. In a few moments, the bear stopped moving. Alex tentatively approached the carcass, keeping his eyes on it the entire time.

"Is it dead?" He asked.

"Only one way to make sure." Harlow grunted, he slashed open the monster's ribcage and pulled its huge, dark colored heart from its chest with a swift yank of muscle. Harlow examined it for a moment before taking a bite out of it and then handing the rest to Alex for him to finish. That was when Alex saw Harlow's face, it was streaked with three broad and bloody marks where the bear had hit him.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked. Harlow put his paw up to his face and felt his wounds, looking at the blood on his hand.

"I'm fine, but this is your lesson. There will be fights we have to win, battles we have to fight, some will be tooth and nail. Next time we wont be so lucky, hesitate and we're both dead. Understand?" Alex nodded and looked at the dead bear as the wind blew by them.

"Ever had bear before?" Harlow asked, as he examined the bears head and brought out the knife he had made earlier that week. He began to cut into the bear's neck and after a minute had severed the head from the body, caking the knife with dark blood and catching bits of bear flesh in its serrated edge.

"No." Alex just said. Harlow chuckled.

"First time for everything."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Alex turned as he heard someone approach. He didn't need to see him to know it was Harlow, recognizing his scent.

"Something up?" Alex asked. Harlow handed him the papers Natasha had given him and he read over them.

"We've got a new assignment. Seek and destroy, there's a cell of lycans that have caused the queen trouble before and they're prepping for round two." Harlow said.

"And they're allied with vampires?" Alex asked almost in disbelief, he'd never heard of vampires and lycans working together for anything.

"A unique problem ain't it, we'll probably be facing both out there." Harlow said as Alex read on.

"What about this...Isabelle?" Alex asked. Harlow frowned a bit.

"Queen's interest, she's to be taken alive if at all possible."

"And the mole that got us this info?"

"Him too if we can..." Harlow just said. "Assemble team and prep up, we're leaving soon." Harlow said, Alex nodded, handing the papers back, Harlow went to leave but turned back at the last moment.

"Oh and...be careful who you pick." He said. Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Any particular reason other than the obvious ones?" Harlow nodded and leaned closer, talking softly.

"this relative of the Queen's court, she's a traitor, this mole, he's a traitor...how many other traitors are there around here you think?" Harlow asked almost in a whisper, Alex shrugged.

"I don't know either, but I don't want any of them with us when we do this...so pick em well and watch em closely, its anyone's game right now." Harlow said and walked away from the training field.

OOC: The knife in question has replaced Harlow's older one and looks like this:

Derrick hummed a tuneless diddy to himself as he laid back in the Humvee, his helmet was on the seat next to him and a cigarette packet was slowly losing it’s contents on his other side.

Puffing on his latest roll-up, Derrick leafed through one of the files that the ‘ambassador’ had given him, the ‘ambassador’ was some former politician turned soldier, maybe the other way around, Derrick didn’t know so Derrick really didn’t care. But the files had to be checked out by the Agency for inconsistencies before being handed over to Natasha.

TITLE:

Murder Patterns in Las-Vegas

SUBJECT:

Kindred and Nrajha activities in the city of Las Vegas.

Derrick was sitting in the back of the humvee, the boss had been nice enough to give the four a table, but the ride was bumpy enough.

Derrick moved a small red marker to a nondescript back ally on the map of Las Vegas and the surrounding area.

“So,” he said, looking up “what do we know?”

Dutch, a man with a new york ascent and a suit, tie, formal pants an a hat of which Derrick had no idea form whence it came, looked up from his photo pile.

“Well, we managed to isolate one little detail.”

“And that is...” Derrick prompted, raising an eyebrow.

Dutch picked up a silencer from the seat next to him and pointed with it, drawing a rough circle with it around a cluster of pins.

“Territory.” He grunted. “Either Nrajah or Opriknikki. Centered near the graveyard.”

“Okay, that says ghoul to me.” Said Derrick, glancing at several photos depicting a plethora of gore.

“Yes, but ghouls don’t leave bite wound s like that.” Said Dutch, pointing at a close-up of some poor shmuck’s neck.

Ruiz snored, leaning on the HMMWV’s side and Abdi fiddled with his bandanna. He spoke up. “No ghoul will cause that, were looking at either a Grubrah or an opriknikki.”

“Derrick scowled. “Alright, lets put his under wraps for now, what about the hotel incident?”

Dutch glanced at the photos. “Crime scene.” He grunted. And moved onto another case.

“Derrick tapped him on the shoulder. “No.” he said, “Besides, why would a senator show up and murder some chick, spread her all over the landscape and then disappear?”

Dutch looked at Derrick like he was crazy. “Well, I think he would disappear because he’d be an idiot not to-”

Derrick waved it away.

“Wrong choice of words, sorry." He said.

The light bulb on a sting above them bounced around as the humvee hit another pothole.
Dutch reached into a pocket and removed a hip flask, dusting of the top he uncorked it and took a swig.

“Alright, so Intel say the young lady’s name is-”

“Was”

“Was Alice.” Said Dutch, not skipping a beat. “The guys found that the corpse was all ovre the room, in a pentagram.”

Derrick snapped his head up. “We looking at a Mock-turtle here?” he asked, his voice low and feral.

Dutch nodded. “Yes. Probably”

Derrick’s eye narrowed as he growled low in his throat. “I’m gonna kill that fether.” He spat.

Dutch looked at him over the bottle. Setting it down, he said “Lets be rational here. It could be anything, or anyone.”

“who the feth is ‘Senator Cho’ anyway!” shouted Derrick, his hands squeezing a table leg as though it wee someone’s throat.

“I dunno, don’t care,” said Dutch, leaning to his left and upending the moonshine all over Ruiz, who awoke with a start.

“What?” asked Ruiz loudly. “We there?”

Derrick was still glaring into space. He got very angery at times.

Dutch looked over at him. “something wrong?”

Evidently something was, Derrick had crumpled the table leg like it was made of paper. His grolws becoming more pronounced.
“Derrick!” yelled Ruiz in astonishment as the Mgral started to bend the steel pole in a knot, sending their careful work spilling onto the floor.

Derrick growled low in his throat, these damn nrajah everywhere, causing so much problems…

He got up.

“What the-” asked Dutch

“Don’t worry, Dutch, I’m fine.” he muttered, and reached for his gun. “were almost there though, lets saddle up.”

Ruiz pulled on a jacket to keep the cold night air out. “What do WE do there anyway, stand around and look tough? Some sort of glorified security detail?”

“Nope…well, kinda.” Said Derrick, reaching for another light and igniting it.

“I heard that the Boss was bringing some sort of gift?” asked the Grubrah, unloading his pistol and keeping his fire hatchet in plain sight.

Derrick tried to stand fully and banged his head on the roof. “Yeah.” He mumbled around the cigarette.

“Well?” asked Ruiz.

“We got the whereabouts on a group of scum…” Derrick spat this last word. “Who have gotten all buddy-buddy with a vampire.

Ruiz’s mouth hung open. “Which one?”

“How the feth do I know?”

“Fair point. We-” The humvee stopped, it’s motorcycle escorts slowing down to. Looking out the back porthole, Ruiz saw that the two trucks behind them had also pulled to a stop.

Were here”

Dutch picked up the files. “What are we here for again?”

Derrick opened the back door, giving the SAW gunner on top a thumbs up. He turned back to the others. “Military Attaché, we’re he best the Fang’s got.”

Abdi spoke again, the man was the quiet type, often fading into crowds. “Damn straight.” He said, Picking up a bundle of leaves.

“Oh no…” muttered Derrick. “do you gotta do that here?”

“Yes.” Said Abdi between mouthfuls of Khat.

Derrick sighed and walked over to the front gate of the ‘Den’

He turned around. “Weapons safe.” He said, and tuned to meet the guard.

(Alright, the rest of the meting Is in FITZZ’s and Warork’s hands)

The night sky was filled with stars and the top of the treeline as the two lovebirds sat next to a warm and cozy campfire.

"Oh Greg," Darla said to the man in a lumberjack shirt and bluejeans, "its just so beautiful out tonight isn't it?"

"Yes Darla, and the stars are reflecting in your beautiful eyes." Greg said as he pressed his thumb softly against her chin. Her skin was soft as he slowly slid his thumb off and the two leaned in close to each other in order to fulfill their urges. Greg quickly took his shirt off as Darla began to undo hers. The couple was enjoying their vacation in one of the many parks in Oregon and neglected to check back on their campfire. The wood hissed as the moisture inside was heated and tried to escape through various spots in the wood and the fire crackled and popped as Greg went about popping something of Darla's.

"Don't stop." Darla said as Greg wrapped his hand around hers and popped the various knuckles of her hand. The couple was soon kissing and laying on the forest's floor. Unknown to them something had been watching, the light from the fire had caught its eye at first and it had continued to watch the fire until it saw an errant cinder fly into the distance and land on some dry leaves close to him. He quickly stamped out the fire with his boot and the loud noise of his boot colliding with the dirt repeatedly alerted the couple to company.

"Who's there?" Greg asked, "Show yourself!" he demanded as he tried to stand between Darla and the source of the noise.

"Its me, Ranger Andy." Andy said as he walked into the light of the fire and was illuminated. His dark green ranger uniform seemed to blend with the surrounding foliage, the brim of his hat cast a shadow that prevented them from seeing his eyes.

"Well, get out of here man, can't you see we were about to do something here?" Greg said.

"I can see that you were about to spread a fire through this wonderful, god-given park of ours." Andy said with a hint of contempt.

"We're watching the fire sir." Darla said.

"No you're not, you two were about to start a game of naked twister in the middle of nowhere." Andy said as he approached them, "But more importantly, which one of you started the fire?"

"I did," Greg said, "I used some matches and stuff."

"Well Greg." Andy said as he walked up closer and grabbed the man by the arm, "I don't appreciate people starting fires and not watching them just because they want to have coitus.". Andy finished speaking and with a tug ripped Greg's arm off before kicking him screaming into the fire. "Do you like that Greg, do you?" Andy asked loudly as the man screamed and rolled around. "Imagine how the forest feels when you start a forest fire!" he yelled "Now let me show you how to improperly put out a fire." Andy said as he began to beat the burning Greg with his own arm. Soon the fire was put out and the charred remains of Greg lay still while Darla quivered in shock and fear. Andy turned to look at the young woman and sat next to her while still holding Greg's arm. As Andy sat he brushed some ash off of the arm and said "Don't worry little lady there are plenty of other guys out there." before taking a bite out of Greg's bicep. Darla looked in shock as Andy just sat there and chewed the meat while looking off into the distance. He swallowed it and noticed the looks he was getting from Darla and said, "Don't worry, I'll only eat you if you don't prevent forest fires.". Andy said and both of them stood up and stared off in the distance.

"Gee Ranger Andy, thank you for pointing out the error of the ways." Darla said cheerfully, "I promise that I will properly supervise my fireside activities in order to prevent forest fires!"

"That's the spirit." Andy said as he pinched Darla's cheek and left a smear of blood on it before he began to walk off and take another bite of the arm. Darla just stood there, happy that she now knew how to not put out a fire and soon heard more rustling and saw a rather obese bear wearing a ranger hat and bluejeans came running out of the woods. "Remember only you can... what the feth happened here?" Smokey asked as he looked at the body missing an arm and burnt to a crisp and a smiling young woman with a small streak of blood on her cheek.

"Oh, Greg started a fire and wasn't watching it properly." Darla said, "Its okay though, we know how to handle fires now."

Smoky the Bear looked on in disgust as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a cell phone to dial the police. Before he could finish giving them his location Darla had grabbed a rock and smashed it against Smoky's head, blood and fluid poured out of the cracked skull and the operator could hear the wet smack of the stone against Smoky's head as Darla continued to smash the rock against the object of her anger, "ONLY I CAN PREVENT FOREST FIRES!" she was heard yelling on the other end of the line.

By the time the police found Smoky's body it had been skinned and his hat taken, the officers covered their mouths to prevent themselves from vomiting. The news reports about Smoky the Bear's death made the nation cry as their beloved spokesperson of preventing forest fires was buried in Arlington National Cemetery, which is normally reserved for soldiers, after General Pine gave a rousing speech about how Smoky fought in the war against forest fires. However, news reports filtered in about a murderer who wore only a green ranger hat and a bear-skin wrapped around her neck with its front legs and murdered and ate anyone who dared to start a fire in the parks of Oregon while screaming "Only I can prevent forest fires!" at the top of her lungs.

When Ranger Andy was asked about the murders in his park he responded only with the phrase, "My bad." before walking off stage and getting into a motorcycle sidecar that then magically began to fly away with no one at the wheel. "Okay Jesus, you can take off your cloaking device now, the media isn't around anymore." Andy said while they were 35,000 feet in the air.

"Good." Jesus said, "Those things steal your souls you know.". The wind rustled Jesus's robe so that his upper arm showed, a spot of black could be seen.

"Jesus, did you get a tattoo?" Andy asked surprised.

"Yeah man," Jesus said as he lifted up the robe with his right hand, "its going to be a flaming skull when its done."

"Jesus christ," Andy muttered.

"Yeah what's up dog?" Jesus asked.

"Nothing I was just using your name as an exclamation." Andy said.

"What you were using my name in vain?" Jesus asked.

"Dude, don't be like that." Andy said, "Its just that its different with your tattoo and you being a holy biker dude and all."

"Hey man, I look like the guys from ZZ Top so I might as well get some ink done." Jesus said, "If you want I know this guy who can give you a good discount.".

"Nah, I'm good Jesus." Andy said.

"So what do you want to do know, werewolf playboy bunny mansion?" Jesus asked.

"Nah, now that I'm married with a family I'm kind of too old for that." Andy said.

"Too old for your pal Jesus?" Jesus asked.

"Of course not, you're my bro, I could never get tired of hanging out with you." Andy said and then the two man-hugged as they drove towards the werewolf playboy bunny grotto.

After hours of partying Andy came back to his house drunk and staggered inside. "You reek of booze and loose women." an angry Wendy said as she stood there with her robe and slippers on.

"Sorry babe, Jesus and I went out to the grotto." Andy said, "Think I knocked one of them up, but Jesus used his magic powers to take care of that." he said as he grabbed his wife.

"I don't like you hanging out with that 'Jesus' fellow" Wendy said, removing Andy's hands from her rear.

"But Jesus is my homie." Andy said.

"I don't care, he's a bad influence on you." Wendy said, "Tomorrow you're going to call him and tell him that you're not going to hang out with him anymore."

"Oh wait," Andy said, "Jesus told me to give this to you." Andy said as he gave Wendy a chocolate bar.

"A bar of chocolate?" Wendy snapped the bar in half, "That's the stupidest..." she was cut off as the broken bar reformed into two. "Okay a never ending supply of chocolate, Jesus wins this time." she said before storming off into their bedroom.

"Told you dude." Jesus said from the roof as Andy gave him a thumbs up.

"And what about?" Andy asked as he made a motion as if he was cupping breasts.

"Don't worry Andy, they'll be a larger but still manageable size." Jesus said as he began to hop onto his harley.

"Jesus," Andy said to get his attention, Jesus turned to look at Andy from his motorcycle, "you're the best."

"You know it Andy my man!" Jesus said as he snapped his fingers into a pointing gesture at Andy and then rode off into the sky.

Astral leaned down to eat, but stopped. Should I do it here? No. People will likely see me. He felt her pulse. Not dead. Much more fun to be had, then. He rummaged around her purse, finding her keys. He put her into the car, and drove. He planned to drive back to his temporary house, where he would have a good meal. He drove for a few miles, eventually reaching a large, dark house. He parked the car into a hidden garage, carrying her still alive body inside. He carried her up, laying her on a bed. He chained her hands, and legs with metal chains, ensuring that she would not escape. Now he had to wait.
---
About an hour later

She woke up, not knowing where she was. She struggled to get out, but quickly found it was useless. She tried screaming for help, which didn’t matter. Astral walked out of another room. Her eyes widened in terror.

“Le...let me go!” She yelled, stammering. He yawned, and sat down on a bed opposite of the one she was chained to. He shook his head.

“Too dangerous.” Astral whispered.

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone anything! I swear. Please!” the waitress whimpered. Astral shook his head.

“It’s not that simple. I don’t care about you telling anyone. All I care about is your death. Actually, it’s very simple!” Astral declared loudly.

“Your insane! I don’t even know you!” She yelled at him. He shrugged.

“And you humans didn’t even know my father when you slaughtered him! You killed him!” Astral yelled, angry. The woman shook with terror.

“I...I don’t know your father. Please let me go.” She cried. Astral simply shook his head.

“No, I am very sorry. You Humans must pay for what you did. And, I must feed.” Astral said. He went over to the woman, reaching for her face. He bent down, ripping her throat out, killing her instantly. He propped himself up onto the bed, finally enjoying his meal.

BIC:………….Origins: part 1 ………..

Its a Sunny day today. Sophie quickly jumps out of her bed. From the moment she had opened her eyes, she knew that summer had arrived. It could have been the warm light or the scent of flowers slipping through the window. She is eleven, a lively girl with long brown hair, not so different from other girls. She didn’t had a sister or brother, but lived together with her parents. They live in Wittenberge, not so far from Hamburg. The parents of Sophia had moved here, not so long ago. Trying to find a nice place to raise their child. And in the forest of Wittenberge they had found that place. Sophia crashes into the kitchen on her naked feet, her uncombed hair pointing everywhere. “The sun shines, the sun shines!” At the kitchen her mother Melna sat, continuing to clean the massive pile of vegetables laying on the table. “Hmm….It seems it does..” Her mom is a rather obese woman with blushing cheeks. She’s quite young, not older then twenty-seven. Sophia crawls on the chair, her legs dangling down. “You promised me that I could play in the forest, if the weather was nice.” She said. “Well, after you’ve helped me, you can go do everything you want.” Sophia’s enthusiasm disappears, like snow in the sun. Yesterday she had made an agreement with her friends, that they would play in the forest. If the weather was nice. And it was! “But if I help you, that’s gonna cost me my entire morning.” Melna suddenly lost her patience. “Well that means you’re going to keep me company the entire morning.” Sophia sighed.

Sophia pulls a bucket of water out of the well and washes herself with the icy water. She loves the feeling of the cold water covering her skin, it made her feel fresh and renewed. Every times she pull the bucket up, she feels strong. Sophia is quite proud of her own strength: She’s the only girl that could stand up to Gornar, the oldest boy of their group. He’s an twelve year old giant, the undisputed leader of them, conquering his power with his bare fists. But he can’t handle Sophia. He mistrusts her, and watches his steps to not bully her too much. Sophia had bested him a few times in arm wrestling and she knows that this bothered him. There is a silent agreement that Gornar was the leader, but that Sophia occupied the second place. She was guite proud of that achievement. “We could hunt lizard and build a terrarium. Or just have a fight, there was so much fun to be had.” She thought, enjoying the early summer. She quivers of joy as she splashes the cold water on her face. She’s skinny, almost too skinny. But sometimes she spots the boys of her little group blush, if they look at her and it made her happy. She lost her heart to as shy boy, Mathon. He never looks at her, but she thinks about him a lot. He was probably going to be there too and they will have so much time that she might dare to tell him the truth. That she likes him.

The entire morning she glows of anticipation. Sophia helps her mother, but she can’t sit still whiles she cleanse the vegetables. Her feet sweep from one side to the other, and every few moment she looks out the window. Occasionally she thinks to see one of her friends running by. But she knew, that she would only get out when the work was done. A suppressed “auch!” emerges from her lips, a small drop of blood hangs on her finger. “Watch out, Sophia. You know better than to daydream while you’re working.” Her mother whined, continuing with the usual. That she would need to follow lessons with the priest, instead of playing with her savage friends. Sophia didn’t respond, it didn’t matter if she brought counter-arguments to the table. Besides she knew mom didn’t meant a word of what she said. Her father had revealed that to her once. “When your mom was little, she was a thousand times worse then you. But do you know what happens? A man enters their life, they fall in love and suddenly the it’s done with fooling around.” Sophia likes her father Arthur, even more so then her mom. He’s as skinny as Sophia and very funny. This combined with the fact that he wasn’t mad, if she came home with a strange animal that had died while playing. He doesn’t scream if she brings a snake, one of her favorite animals. Even better, once he even gave her a small dead squirrel. Sophia has several pots in her chamber. Each filled with spiders, worms and cockroaches, each on captured during scavenge trips with her friends. A traveling merchant, had given her a strange powder once. All she had to do was add some water and it kept her treasures intact, from the wheels of time. This is her most priced possession in the world, one she liked to show to visitors. Her mother hated it, always ending in screaming bloody murder if she came home with a new acquisition. While her father just laughed. He loved animals, and always wanted to learn new things about them. Therefore she looks to him like a saving angel when he arrives in the kitchen around dinner time. “Daddy!” she screamed. She flings herself around him, almost dropping both of them on the floor. “be carefull Sophia!” her mother shouts, but her dead was fine with it. He has light blond hair, dark brown eyes, almost as dark as Sophia’s. He has a big moustache, that tickled her every time he kissed her. She didn’t mind. “So you have been sitting here all day, cleaning courgettes?” Sophia nods, as sad as possible. “Well, then I think….we can let you go the entire afternoon.” “Huurray!” Sophia shouted.

She knows where she can find her friends, it was almost impossible to miss them. Around dinnertime they always ate next to the river, where they had built their own fort. As soon as she arrives she hears her friends shouting. “Sophia.” It is Pat, the other girl of the group. She is her best friend and the only one that knew about Mathon. As always they are with five, Gornar laying in the grass looking at the clouds. The twins Sams and Renni, the children from the priest. Renni played with an enormous golden cross. A gift from his wealthy father. And finally Mathon, who softly nods to her. “Hi, Mathon.” Sophia says, her cheeks blushing. Pat sniffles, but quickly stops after Sophia angry look. “Where were you?” Pat asked. “We waited the entire morning for you.” “A complete waste of time.” Gornar sneered. “I had to help my mother.” Sophia answered. “and what have you guys done?” “We played war.” Mathon replied, pointing at the pile of wooden swords. “And what are we going to do this afternoon?” she asked. “Fishing.” Gornar stated. “The fishing rods are already at our fixed the spot. The fixed spot was a small cave behind the river, where they always hide their loot. Usually food they had plundered out of their house, or strange objects. There was even a rusted sword. “Okay then, when do we leave?”

They quickly go to to the river, sadly there were only five rods for six people. Everyone quickly grabbed one as fast as possible. Leaving Sophia to share one with Mathon. She couldn’t believe it. Her dream became reality. Sophia pretended to be scared of the wriggling worms. “Oh come on, so scary aren’t they.” Mathon said. Sophia nodded, lost in his green eyes. She had never seen something so beautiful. The entire midday they were busy with baiting the rods, pulling in small fish. Sophia had been fishing many times with her father. Yet she squealed when a fish pulled the rod. Mathon jumped behind her his hand firmly placed around hers, trying to get the rebellious fish out. It almost seemed to good to be true. If the first day of the summer already went so well, perhaps at the end he would hold her in his arms. Maybe even be a girlfriend. Just before sunset, the group conveyed showing the spoils of the afternoon. Mathon and Sophia had captured the least fish. Gornar laughed as he showed his six captured fish. “I’m the best,” he said. “And that why I’m the leader.” He grinned, saluting the admiring twins. Gornar told Dubhe she had to place all the rods back in the cave. “Because, you had the fewest and were too late.” Sophia grudgingly took the rods and placed them in the cave. Something in the corner catches her attention. She walks towards it and smiled when she recognized it.

It was a little snake. One she hadn’t in her collection. It was dead, but seemed to be in perfect condition. It was a marvelous metallic grey, with black stripes. Without fear Sophia reaches out and carefully places it in her hand. It was small but she knew that these could have a length of a few foot, this one was just a couple of inches, but it was a beauty. “Look what I found.” She shouts when she returns from the cave. They all converse around her, watching the little thing. Pat makes vomit noises, she didn’t like that sort of creatures, but the eyes of the boys sparkled. “It’s a necklace snake.” Sophia starts. “My dad told me about this one. I have been searching for…” “Give it.” Gornar interrupted. The words came to Sophia like a cold shower. She looks at him, unsure about what he exactly ment. “Give it!” he repeated. “And why should I?” “Because I captured the most fish and deserve a price!” Patt intervenes. “We didn’t have a competition Gornar…this was just for fun.” “That’s what you think.” Gornar barked. “Give it!” “Not in a million years! I found it an I’m keeping it.” Sophia pulls the hand containing the snake away from Gornar, but he was quicker then she thought. He grabs her arm, clenching her wrist. “You’re hurting me!” Sophia screamed, trying to break free from Gornar’s clutch. “Its mine! You don’t even care about this, while I collect them!” “I don’t care. I’m the boss.” “No!” “If you don’t hand over the snake. I will give you such a beating you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He threatened “Try it, everyone know you can’t beat me.”

That was the last straw for Gornar. He growled as he jumped on Sophia. He tries to stomp her, but she grabs his legs, biting him, scratching. The snake drops into the grass. Sophia and Gornar roll over the ground. He pull her hair so hard that she starts crying. But Sophia doesn’t give up. She continues biting, now their both crying off anger and pain. The other children standing around them, encouraging. They land in the edge of the river, they wrestle on the watercourse, wounding themselves on the sharp rocks. Gornar pushes the head of Sophia under water. She becomes frightened. In and out the water, in and out. She’s running out of breath, the hand of Gornar pulls hard on her hairs, her magnificent hair, her pride. In a final desperate attempt she manages to turn herself around, and now Gornar lays beneath her. She pulls the head off the boy up and slams it against the rocky ground. That one blow was enough. The fingers of Gornar slip out of her hairs. His body stiffens and then goes limp. Sophia is suddenly free and doesn’t understand why. She still sits on the boy and stops fighting. “Oh….God..” Pat whispers. Blood. A small stream of blood colours the water. “Gornar…” she shouts. Harder. “Gornar!...” But she didn’t receive an answer. Renni is the one who pulls her away, throwing her on the grass. Sams Goes to Gornar and pulls him out the water. He shakes him around, shouting his name. each time louder. No reaction. Pat starts to cry. Sophia looks at Gornar and what she would see would haunt her forever. Clear open eyes. Small hard pupils. Eyes without a gaze, which stared at her. Accusing her. “You killed him.” Renni screams. “You killed him!”

Eight months ago - the Den

Running a finger along Jarin's naked chest as he lay on the bed next to her, Erzuli just couldn't help but grin once more. Her life was better than it ever had been. In two hundred years she'd only ever knew poverty and a stinking farm in the bayou; now here she was at, almost the top of a pack and was free to do what she wanted. At moments like this, feeling exhausted by her lover, she could almost forget the price for it all... the incoming war and an annoying child growing all to fast towards manhood. Yet right now she could clearly see those were things she could overcome.

"You're planning to go to that little hideaway of yours again, aren't you?" Jarin's hand caressed her hair as he spoke. The look on his face tried to convey amusement but the tone of his voice was filled with worry.

"I told you." Erzuli purred. "I need my own space to do some research. There are many things I need to do; the prophecy needs to be studied. You have made sure my guards are always with me. I'll be perfectly safe. Anyhow, I have to come back to teach the little messiah his words."

"You don't go there to read." He chose to ignore her slight towards Cass, she kept them mainly for when they were alone. The whole situation surrounding the boy's future position in the pack, the tension of it, her abject hatred of it, wasn't good but for now he just let her vent. He watched her sigh, like she was grateful for him skipping over the subject.

"I read somewhat and do what I must, for the good of us all."

"You will tell me..."

"When the time is right," she interrupted, "you will be the first I will come to, above even my sister."

Erzuli rose from the bed and went to the shower at the back of the room. He lay there while she washed and after she re-emerged, he simply watched her dress. She was thinking things over again, he could tell, mainly by the slightly glazed look in her eyes. She got like this when she didn't want to answer any more questions... when she was talking to the thing that followed her round most of the time. He rubbed his left eye, it was itching once more. The action caused the blurry image at the end of the bed to vanish briefly, only to return when he was done.

Erzsébet hung by the end of the bed, looking at the big wolf with hungry eyes.

"Oh please, just one night, an hour... dearest one, it has been so long." She looked over to Erzuli, who was trying very hard not to respond to the ghost's ramblings. "Let me sense through you. He is so delicious."

The Pure Blood actually found herself having to bite her lip, she was tired of this particular request and while Erzsébet was a valuable ally, the risk was far to great for her to take. She had almost done it once before, merge completely with her mind, when they had healed Jarin and it had taken her a full week to regain all her own habits. The slipping into Hungarian language for a week had proved irritating; despite the lingering understanding being a benifit, especially when she wanted to have a quiet word with Erzsébet. There was no way she was going to try it again though. Erzsébet drifted over to her and Erzuli could feel the cold impression of the apparition's touch on her arm. She chose to ignore the sensation, knowing nothing more could come of it and started to pull on her boots.

"For the theory to work... you know..." The Countess purred, a habit far to like her own for Erzuli's liking. "...well, dearest one... for it to work we have to combine anyway. Spirit essense and blood only truly fully entwine through that. And... of course... it, most likely, takes practice to perfect the bond. He would greatly help m... our level of co-operation."

Erzuli couldn't help but shoot Erzsébet a disgusted look. She fought to regain control as she caught sight of Jarin responding to her sudden movement. Standing suddenly she walked swiftly to the door. 'Damn', she thought, 'she is too much like me; trying to pull this'. Yet the Pure Blood could sense there was some logic about the need to bond. She pulled open the door and strode out, hearing Jarin's annoyed groan from the room as once more she wandered off without so much as 'see you around'. She would make it upto him... later.

---

At the 'Bunker' - quite some time later

That what remained of his tail wagged as she pulled the nail out from his ear only made Erzuli despise his breeding all the more. Yet Pike was starting to prove himself more than just useful and she couldn't help but rub the canine's chest, which, of course, only caused the stubbed excuse for a tail to wag all the more. She also knew it was annoying Erzsébet, who it seemed was taking the brunt of the aggression for these sessions. The ghost was somewhere in the far corner, muttering to herself about the need to hurry up with the bond and that their research was being stalled because of it. Erzuli had to agree with her somewhat; Pike was beginning to suffer from the frequent explorations of his anatomy. The salve she was applying to the wounds across his body was starting to fail and he stank of rotten flesh and rank stitching. She was getting impatient herself at the lack of other options and progress.

"Perhaps..." the Pure Blood began, cautiously, "...you are right Erzsébet."

The ghost looked up, a glint of hopeful desire in her eyes and waited for the wolf to continue to speak.

"We need a subject to try this theory on and I would rather not waste the lives of the three cubs we have left after the conditioning chamber. Their bodies are too young yet and wasting those that have proved themselves as strong would be... foolish. Pike here is getting close to being dead anyway... perhaps..."

"Does it have to be him?" There was a desperate uncertainty in Erzsébet's voice as she appeared next to Erzuli's ear. Pike growled and snapped at her, causing Erzuli to hit him across the head. As he flopped onto his huge black and tan furred back with a whine, starting to lick the Pure Blood's boots, the ghost just found it in her to continue. "Look at him, hes... disgusting... and he might... be able to hurt me!"

"Think of it this way Countess, if this fails, hes going to die and if it succeeds... I may..." Somewhere in the back of her head Erzuli cursed herself for her own words. "...may let... us... explore other things."

"Prepare it!"

---

Several hours had passed and Heather was fed up of running back and forth from the Den to get seemingly innocuous items for her Queen's sister. She dumped the latest bag onto Anya's desk, only to be met with a stern look from the girl she knew she could flatten in a second as something went 'crack' within it. Anya checked the contents and was relieved to only find the jar within chipped on its lid. Someone would still most likely be in trouble for that though.

"The Commander wants to know when Erzuli is going to be back, by the way." Heather said, slumping into a chair opposite the smaller wolf.

"I imagine so. We have been here nearly four days since... the Mistress, left the Den" Anya looked over the jar, holding the glass container upto the light. It was a small object, barely as big as her hand filled with a disgustingly dense, cloudy red-brown liquid. She glanced at the label stuck to the top, 'Vitae - Hector - C.20 - 74' and her eyes widened. "You are lucky this did not break!"

"It can't be that rare." Heather shrugged. "I'm sure she'd just send me to get more anyhow."

"This... no. this is rare for us to have... even her." Anya gluped, standing and checking the lid of the jar before moving towards the bunker door. "She must trust you to let you retrieve this."

The bigger she-wolf looked genuinely surprized as she watched Anya enter the room with the jar. It took a few minutes until the young wolf reappeared, holding an empty carton of juice that had been amoung the last delivery. She shut the door behind her, looking a bit pale as she sat down. Heather couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"You okay kid?"

"Mmmmm." Anya nodded. "She wants the Commander to know she will be another day at least. She wasn't bothered about the chipped lid."

"Thats bad?"

"No... not that..." Anya looked back at the door. "That isn't it at all..."




OOC... sorry for the delay in this. I have a bit more historical catchup to do and then should be upto date. Safe to say though, the last few weeks Erzuli has been spending a lot of time at her little hideaway.

The twenty lashes had been nothing compared to what he was used to, none the less, Andy needed to let the wounds heal before putting on his shirt. The first time he had put his shirt on while his back was still bleeding and ruined the piece of clothing and had annoyed Wendy to a certain extent. But that was more than ten minutes ago and now Andy sat at the table with his family enjoying an actual breakfast. The twins sat in reclining high chairs and babbled to each other, Michael sat in another high chair with a bowl of sliced bananas. Their guests had seen themselves out early in the morning when it was just warm enough to walk around freely.

"So you said that they killed another vampire last night?" Wendy asked as she poked an egg with a fork.

"Yeah, then the ghouls went all godfather on the other vamps ghouls." Andy said after eating some bacon, "Then he said something about some vampires not wanting to play 'follow the leader with Cain' or something like that."

"Really?" Wendy asked.

"Yep, and I sure as hell it doesn't turn out to be another gak storm." Andy said.

"Watch the language in front of them." Wendy reminded Andy, "We'll just have to hope I guess."

"Uh-oh." Michael said as the bowl containing the bananas crashed on the floor. He watched his parents to see what they would do.

"Michael..." Wendy said exasperatedly, "that's the second time today."

"I guess he doesn't like bananas." Andy said behind his mug of warm coffee.

"Then what do you think he should eat?" Wendy asked.

"He has some teeth, get him some cheerios." Andy replied as Wendy picked the sticky fruit off of the floor. Andy rubbed his finger along the inside of his ear and managed to rub off a bit of dried fluid from last night.

"Why do I have to always get him everything?" Wendy asked.

"Because you're loving and caring and beautiful and right next to the cupboard." Andy said with a smile.

"You've got two hands now." Wendy replied with a wink, "I guess you'll be getting more acquainted with one of them."

"Oh no you didn't just go there." Andy joked back and looked at Michael, "See that, your mom's making sex jokes in front of you guys."

Michael just smiled as Andy began to tickle him. Wendy sighed as she tossed the ruined banana into the trash and poured some cheerios into the bowl. After Andy finished his tickling and Michael finished waving his arms around, Wendy placed the bowl of cereal in front of him. The cereal soon found itself also on the floor. Wendy began to rub her temple and went back to get another bowl. This time she put the cereal into the bowl and placed it down before looking at her son, "If you don't eat this I'll eat you." she said in a low growl.

"Whoah, whoah calm down dear." Andy said, "Can't just be threatening to eat them for bowls of cereal, that's just not good parenting."

"I was just messing with him." Wendy said.

"I know you were, but that's just not right." Andy said, "I mean would you like it if you grew up with your mom threatening to eat you, even if she was joking?"

"Alright, just blame the time of the month." Wendy said as she sat back down.

"Geeze, full moon already?" Andy asked.

"No, the other time." Wendy replied. "But back to what we were talking about."

"Oh yeah, what was it..." Andy thought for a second, "I don't want to get involved in anything else for awhile so I hope that they won't be starting anything."

"You know, I should probably check the Network to see if anything is coming up." Wendy finished her plate.

"You haven't logged in for how long?" Andy asked.

"Three months you know, since the attack." she replied, "But hopefully my passwords and everything work still."

"They might have changed it for security reasons, and they can track the computer too." Andy said, "So I would definitely clear it first."

"I'm beginning to think that there's more than just the boxing fight behind the reason for giving you that new hand." Wendy implied, "I think you're going to be doing some more work soon."

"Please don't say that." Andy sighed, "Please don't jinx this."

"You think I want you to go?" Wendy said with gloom, "We have kids now, and sure we belong to some vampire but this is the best we've had it and I don't want it all gone."

"I know," Andy replied, "but I think we should start making plans should something start to go down."

"You mean like an escape plan?" Wendy asked. She watched as Andy only nodded his head in silence, "But remember the contract? If we try to run he'll probably kill the both of us and then do god knows what to them." she indicated the children.

"If he starts some war with vampires then he's not fulfilling his end of the deal, he promised to keep us safe from other vamps and if other vamps can hurt us then..." he let Wendy finish the thought process.

"Okay, so if there's some sort of vampire civil war we cut and run then?" Wendy asked.

"Yeah, we'll find a way to do it." Andy said, "Get away from everything and start anew again, for the second time."

"So what do we do about everyone else?" she asked while looking to see if the twins were done with their bottles.

"I say we just go, see your mom for a day, tell her what happened and why we have to go, then find somewhere remote or somewhere incredibly full of people where we can just be a family.". Andy said with a shrug, "I don't exactly know because I haven't thought much about running away before, but if the time comes we'll be ready.".

"Until then." Wendy said as she smiled sheepishly.

"Yep, until then." Andy began to stretch, "But for now I have to go, the roof is leaking apparently and we need to go patch it up before nightfall.". He got up and gave his wife and all of his kids a kiss on the forehead before heading out the door and walked to the mansion to start work on the roof repairs. Plans for escape running through his head as he continued walking to the mansion.

Part Five... Playing with Fire

The room erupted into violence at his command, as the Dragon stalked off the stage, several of the surrounding kindred leapt up and charged at the strange woman Nero had called Areto who had dared interrupt them at the moment of the transference. The first, a young Stirgoi lunged at her with a mad cackle, murder in his eyes. Her left boot caught him in the midsection, a punch knocked him downward with a grunt of pain, and a heaving up swing from the axe removed his head from his shoulders and scattered ash across the aisle.
A second a straggly haired female found the axe head in her jaw as she got within arm reach, she realized just for a moment that the axe head glowed with an unnatural light before her face exploded into flame and her body fell away to nothing. With a roar of anger Gerstard barreled towards her knocking a lesser kindred out of the way, his right arm exploding into tendrils that shot twenty feet between the two of them and wrapped around Areto's arm holding the axe. She grimaced but the blood the barbs the tendrils drew did not stain black.

Grasping another charging male Kindred by the throat with her free hand, she smashed him skull down into the floor, and lifted back switching her footing while shattering his skull to grant a stronger stance as she grasped the tendrils with her now free hand. Gerstard yelled out in pain, as smoke steamed from where her palm grasped his flesh. Cracks of white began to crawl up the limb towards him. Nero grabbed Lilith as she went to support their ally, and with a shake of his head ushered her towards the stage to follow the Dragon out. As he followed he paused and leapt down into the pit standing over V'ral and the weakened Scarlett and Olivia.

"Now I see why you didn't ask for the blood!"

Nero grasped V'ral by the neck as he spoke, pulling him back a pace, while his fingers punctured deep into V'rals flesh around the throat causing the Stirgoi to growl in pain. V'ral managed to turn a slight smile on his lips.

"This time, with the boon Areto has, we will destroy it all for good."

"You are a fool to turn down such power." Nero snarled angrily pushing the fingers deeper into V'ral's chest to make him gasp out in agony.

"What is the sense in such power, when you lack control to use it."

Nero looked down at him angrily, he could see the infection was not working, V'ral was somehow immune, he glanced back to Areto, V'ral wasn't effecting him like she was effected Gerstard. He watched as Areto dragged Gerstard another step towards her with each pull, scars as if he was aflame where criss-crossing along his flesh, he was screaming as he tried to fight back, he also noted the Opriknikki and dark haired woman where gone. Nero snarled, he glanced at Scarlett and Olivia, and then allowed his hand hanging behind V'ral to shift into a thick blade like spike.

"You will never see it V'ral!" He sneered.

The blade punched straight through the Stirgoi's back, through the spine, heart and out the front showering both maidens with his blood. V'ral glanced back a grimace of agony on his face as Nero let him slump to the floor. As V'ral decayed to ash, Nero knelt beside Scarlett, and smiled as he whispered into her ear, she winced, Nero grinned and stabbed her with his finger letting a piece fall into her flesh. He stepped back with a eager grin as her face shook with the morph as her teeth cracked open her cheek.

"You will still have a place beside.."

Nero was cut short as a backhand fist threw him several metres backwards into the seating to the left, He tried to stand, whatever had hit him felt like he'd be struck by a truck. As he lifted himself up he gasped with shock. A figure he had not seen in years, still wearing his dark tunic over chain mail, a longsword glinting in the broken lights of the theater.

"Argural" he gasped.

"Nero" Stated the huge Kindred as he stepped toward him.

Nero watched as Areto finally got hold of Gerstard, as soon as she touched him, he screeched out as his skin cracked open, the wounds blistered and scarred and he cried out for mercy before exploding into shard of blackened ash that stuck to the carpets and seats like melted toffee. Areto then looked toward him, and Nero figured he didn't need an invitation, and leapt across the theater and out through the back after the others.

Areto went to give chase but Argural raised his hand.

"There will be a time for that." He said motioning down to the pit.

Areto walked up beside him and looked down, she felt the energy passing as she paused at the sight of the two female Kindred, both infected, she then looked to him and nodded before dropping down beside them. She was thankful to Erisa always, she had granted her a great boon before her death at the hands of Pontius. For too long she had been going mad in the shadows of the Crooked House, that was before V'ral had found her. Given her a slight hope, that he had discovered the resting place of Argural, was working for him, and after too many nights, in this world and the Crooked one, he former ally and friend had arrived at the Crooked House two nights before and torn her free of her eternal prison.

"Why theses two?" She asked looking down.

"You have not doubted me before sister. Why start now."

She glanced back, and then nodded, using her nail to slash open both wrists, she placed the open wounds in each mouth and like hungry animals the Kindred began to feed.

"I am not sure what this will do to an infected?" She said softly.

Argural folded his arms, a knowing smile crossing his lips.

The stink of the tar had enveloped all of the rooftop as the work crew changed their original plans and decided to redo the entire roof so they wouldn't have to come back within a week or so for any other weak spots. Andy had made the final decision and a few of the slaves had muttered about how stupid the idea was, but in the end it did mean they wouldn't have to be on the roof again for quite some time. Andy looked over the edge of the roof and could see more slaves on the ground removing the snow that had been tossed down from the roof so they could begin work. It was mostly cleared away and everything was going smoothly until a call on the radio said that he needed to go inside. The house was definitely warmer than the surrounding environment, but Andy was left sitting in the torture room, waiting for whatever he was needed for. "Probably some ghoul who drank too much last night after everything happened." he thought to himself as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Soon Claudius came in, flanked by his two bodyguards. Andy remembered the first time he had met the guards, they held a silver bar against his chest so he wouldn't change and would be forced to listen to whatever Claudius had to say. "So, what's the problem sir?" Andy asked.

"Unfortunately you are right now." Claudius said as the guards soon began to walk behind Andy. He already knew that something bad was going to happen, but decided not to retaliate until he knew how bad it was going to be. "I know that you're planning to escape should things go sour." Claudius admitted.

"Who said that?" Andy asked, playing dumb.

"You did, this morning." Claudius said, "Don't play stupid, your house is bugged and I have your voice recorded."

"You bugged my house?" Andy asked.

"Its my property as are you and its my choice to do whatever I want to my property." Claudius said and motioned to his guards who grabbed Andy and forced him into the chair. "Now I don't want you running away, but I don't want you permanently maimed." Claudius stood in front of the detained werewolf, "So I'm going to let Claudia deal with you, nothing permanent, but it will hurt.". As if on cue Claudia entered the room and smiled at Andy, "Oh and if you try to fight back, I will include your family in this punishment. You sit there while Claudia does her work and all is forgiven, if you try to do anything we do nasty things to the other members of your pack, got it?" he said.

"Yes." Andy said as he stared at Claudia.

"Good, I now take my leave, and remember Claudia, no lasting damage or silver." Claudius said as he exited the room.

"Yes father." Claudia said as she closed the door behind him and walked over to Andy, "Well, well, well... it seems like Old Yeller here wanted to run away from us." Claudia said as she lifted Andy's chin to force him to look into her eyes. "Now why would you want to do that, we gave you a house right?"

Andy just stared back.

"And we feed you and make sure your family is taken care of do we not?" Claudia asked again. Andy sat still and continued his protest of silence, annoying Claudia. "Well, its a good thing that bones and tissue heal easily with your kind, because I'm feeling rather bad today and nothing would delight me more to see you squirm.". She said as she pulled out her favorite punishment tool, a long, slender metal rod. She pulled it out and with great precision she poked it between a pair of ribs, with a smile she began to force it into the flesh and watched as Andy began to let out bursts of air through his nose. She knew it hurt him, but he was trying to keep a brave face. She kept pushing until eventually the skin gave way and the rod slipped into the chest cavity, she had intentionally missed the lungs but wasn't yet done. She could feel the lungs quivering as Andy inhaled and exhaled and she smiled at him, "You're breathing pretty fast now, but lets check your heartbeat." she said as she deftly changed the angle of the rod to place it near the pericardium. She pushed slowly on the sac to prevent it from tearing, but soon the beating heart began to rub against the inside of the sac causing discomfort with every beat. Andy's legs tensed as he tried to stand the pain in his chest, his heart rate increasing with each passing second because of the pain. It was soon becoming unbearable, even for his standards, but a sense of relief came and announced the fact that Claudia had removed the rod from his chest. "Well now that was fun, wasn't it?" she said as she wiped the bloody rod on Andy's shirt, "Next we'll have some fun with your muscles. Open his palms." she instructed the two men in white. Claudia went to the shelf and found some caltrops, she took two and placed them in Andy's left hand. "Now don't squeeze these, the points are long enough to go through your hand." she said as she began to run the rod down his arm and closer to the wrist, with a strong strike on the palm side of his forearm forced his hand to clench and soon the caltrops were embedded into his skin, another strike forced his palms closed again and the shiny tip of the caltrops could be seen on the top of his hand. Any further movement in that hand would cause him pain as the muscle and tendons struggled against the foreign object.

"Still not crying or screaming yet?" Claudia asked in a mock sadness, "I guess we'll continue working until you do.". She took the rod and placed it to the side of his knee, "You wanted to run away so I guess the best course of action would be to injure the offending limb right?".

Andy continued to stare, his breathing still heavy and coming through his nose. She took the cuffs of his jeans and rolled them up past his knees, exposing the flesh of his legs. Then Claudia took the rod and pushed it through the skin of the knee and behind the knee cap, with her fingers she located a tendon and used her fingers to force the leg to kick, as it did the rod tore tendons from their muscles and Andy's kneecap was removed from any sort of connection. Andy let out a gasp that sent spittle into the air, Claudia took the rod out and copied the procedure with the other leg, again Andy gasped as his joints were destroyed. Claudia wiped the rod on Andy's pants, "Stand him up." she ordered the guards who acknowledged the order and stood Andy upright. His own body weight forced himself down on top of wounded knees and the loose kneecap of his left leg had managed to slip inside of the joint, causing further pain. "Now drop him, don't place him, drop him face down." she said and watched as Andy collapsed on the floor in front of her, his arms stretched from his body. She looked down at him and then lined her pointed shoes up with the spacing between the ribs and began to deliver kick after kick. Andy began to moan and wanted to protect himself, but found that the guards were holding his arms in place with their own feet. Tears began to well in his eyes as his face was pressed against the cement floor, "Now for the coup de grace," she said as she pressed it against the back of his neck, "I'll make you feel every pain receptor in your body firing at once.". With continued pressure the rod entered the spinal cord through a vertebral disc. She took a small battery from the shelf of tools and hooked the rod up to it with a clamp, and after adding the second one to a spot on his back the circuit sent a jolt of electricity directly to the spinal cord. Every single synapse of every single nerve fired and Andy hollered in pain before his brain shut down due to the electric shock. He lay comatose on the ground as Claudia removed the battery and wiped her hands clean of the work. "He's not dead, but he won't be waking up for awhile." she told the guards, "His mind and body will eventually reset thanks to the characteristics of his kind, please inform my father that he should probably wake up later tonight." she said and watched as the two left the room to go deliver the news. Claudia waited for them to leave before checking for a pulse and for breathing, they were both slow, but present. She grinned as she looked down at the near dead man, "Not so tough and cocky now are you, you son of a bitch." she said before spitting on his face and leaving him alone in the room.

Hours later Andy eventually woke up, feeling like he had been set on fire. He tried to get up, but forgot that a piece of metal was still lodged in his left hand. He put it down and new pain entered his hand and he quickly removed it with the other hand with a grunt. He sat up and looked at his still swollen knees, the healing process was fast, but it was just finishing up and upon palpating them he felt like someone had taken a hammer to them. Never the less he tried standing on them and found that he was capable of walking, but also found that it hurt like hell. With each step he grimaced in pain, but he continued staggering towards the door. He pushed it open and the night sky once again welcomed him and the cold bit at the exposed skin of his legs. He tried to roll the pant legs back down, but his knees were too engorged to allow it. He continued his painful journey back home, each step renewing the torture he had just endured. He got managed to get home after 30 minutes and was welcomed by a tearful Wendy who quickly ran to him and helped him inside before finally embracing him in a large hug. "They told me what happened." she said

"Who told you what?" Andy asked.

"Claudius, he told me that they knew what we said this morning, and he told me what they did to you." she said, "I'm so sorry Andy, is there anything I can get you?"

"Some soup and some ice packs." Andy said, "But don't worry too much, I've had worse before remember?"

"I know you have, but that doesn't change the fact that they beat the gak out of you." Wendy said.

"It was just Claudia." Andy said as he lay on the couch.

"I knew it was going to be her that did it, I just did." Wendy said as she began heating some canned soup on the stove, "So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Andy said, "if this is what I get for just talking about running away I think it would be best just to be a good little slave." he said honestly. Wendy brought over the lukewarm liquid and placed it in front of Andy who quickly began to drink it instead of eating it with a spoon. Wendy would normally reprimand him for doing so, but decided that it would be okay to let him do it just this once.

"So we stay." Wendy said, caressing her husband's forehead.

"Yep, nothing else we can do I guess." Andy said, "But hopefully he was telling the truth when he said that if I took it all without retaliating it would all be forgiven and nothing else comes from this.".

"I hope so too, I don't know how much more you can take." Wendy replied, "But you need to get to sleep and hopefully it will be healed by the morning."

"I hope so." Andy said while Wendy removed the bowl from his hand and placed it on the counter in the kitchen. She then brought out a blanket for him to sleep under and lifted up Michael, who had managed to stay awake.

"Daddy okay?" Michael asked as he looked at his father on the couch.

"Yes darling, he's okay, just tired okay?" Wendy replied.

"Okay." Michael said with a worried look on his face as he was placed into his own crib. Wendy gave him a kiss on the forehead before going back into the living room and checking on Andy who was already fast asleep. "Good," she thought to herself as she then made her way into their bedroom where the twins were sleeping, "he'll be alright tomorrow, I hope.".

Harlow looked out the window of the long black limousine as it made its way down the long road from the main compound to the gate at the far end of the valley. He'd gotten a call about five minutes ago that vehicles were approaching the main gate and immediately knew who it probably was. The queen had been informed of an entourage from a local loyalist cell calling themselves "The Blunted Fang." The name made Harlow want to scoff at its dullness but he had heard things about this particular small group of lycans. Whether the scant reports he had on them were true or not would be determined soon. He mused about the decree the queen had made earlier that day, apparently it was doing its job already; further distinguishing the traitors from the loyalists and generally shaking the tree so to speak to see what fell out. The results were things like this, teams of representatives coming to personally extoll where their allegiances were, no doubt in a bid to curry favor with the top tier of lycan kind...the line was being drawn...all on the other side when all was said and done would be dealt with accordingly...

The limousine, after a five or so minute ride, finally got to the gate where a platoon of armed guards stood warily. Harlow got out of the car and made his way up the metal staircases passing many of the guards on his way. Most of them gave him a nod out of respect for his ranking but this was far from the military the humans took so much pride in...there were no prideful salutes or barked orders, everyone just got on with what they were doing. As he made it to the top of the wall where a parapet was, Harlow noted the guards lining either side and noticed with a bit of satisfaction that none of them showed the least bit of unease only a watchful sense of awareness.

Harlow looked down from the gate and saw a small line of vehicles in a convoy in front of the gate. He arched an eyebrow at the nature of the forces in front of him, they were obviously armed and had come in military esque vehicles which, if Harlow hadn't known better, would have seemed to him like an assaulting force than a peaceful entourage. Harlow sighed...apparently this group was a bit eager to show off their assorted muscle and such showboating was unwelcome and annoying to him and most surely Natasha.

"Whoever's leading this group show yourself and state your business!" Harlow barked loudly at the line of cars below him. A door to one opened after a moment and a man in a suit followed by three other men who were all wearing fatigues of some sort came with him. The man in the suit looked right up at Harlow and spoke.

"My name is Dutch Schultz and I'm here to hold an audience with the queen." The man called up to him. Harlow looked about the road in front of the gate, trying to figure out just how many vehicles were in the convoy.

"And your crew?" Harlow asked indicating the convoy.

"They are our entourage, an escort if you will." The man said placatively. Harlow nodded and turned to the wolf who was at the gate controls, with a wave of his hand the gate controller flipped a switch on a panel and the massive front gates opened slowly outwards as Harlow descended to the ground where he stood in front of the convoy and met the small group that had gotten out of the car to speak with him.

"You boys are from the Blunted Fang?" Harlow asked already knowing the answer.

"Yes, we are here as representatives of our order and to share some information we think might be interesting to her." Schultz asked, behind him stood three others; one Caucasian, one Hispanic, the other African, all were impassive as the two spoke.

"Alright then, Dutch was it? I'm not sure what your superiors had in mind but right now we cant afford to draw attention to ourselves. Tell your "entourage" to go back where they came from and follow me." Harlow said turning to go back to the limo. The man in the suit stopped him however.

"These three are with me specifically, is it alright if they come along?" He asked. Harlow seemed to consider it and then nodded.

"Any weapons you have give to the guards, you can have them back after our deliberation is over." Harlow said simply and went to wait in the limo as the four were searched and their weapons taken into custody before getting into the limo. Harlow could tell that they were, especially the other three besides the "ambassador", were uneasy now that they had no weapons at hand, well they could lump it as far as Harlow was concerned, where they were going there weren't any weapons needed, not right off the bat anyway. The limousine ran smoothly along the long street back to the compound, Harlow sat across from the four wolves in front of them and appraised each of them in kind that was until he got to the Hispanic man and scowled a bit...he had a strange sense that the man's scent was familiar though he couldn't place his finger on it. His curiosity was snapped when Dutch spoke again, however.

"Pardon me, but you must be Syd Harlow correct?" The man asked. Harlow wasn't used to people knowing his name before he told them so he just nodded curtly.

"So what are you, the queen's doorman or something?" The white wolf down on Harlow's far left suddenly asked. Any other wolf would have probably taken that as some sort of challenge but Harlow simply chuckled a bit.

"If that's how you want to put what I do then go ahead. I like to think of it as just a position that gets things done; listening, looking...things of a...watchful nature. Harlow said looking at the man.

"You'll have to forgive him." Dutch said. Derrick can be a little up front at some points. By the way this is my team; Derrick, Ruiz, and Abdi."

"A pleasure." Harlow said crossing his arms. In truth it was a bit of an annoyance but Harlow kept his tongue and feelings in check, he had yet to see the value of these...allies...displayed yet. Harlow looked back across the limo and noticed Ruiz now looking at him, the two men exchanged glances into each others' eyes and a question began to form in Harlow.

"Have we met...Ruiz is it?" Harlow asked squinting at the man in curiosity. Ruiz just gave him back a dead level stare.

"I dunno, the Bronx in the year eighty five ring any bells?" The man asked. Harlow was silent for a moment, trying to recall that night those years back, he was a different, more lost person back then. There was a bar in a shadier are of New York and a few too many drinks involved...somehow Harlow had lost track of the time and the frenzy had hit him before he'd gotten completely out of the city...the results were sitting right in front of him although he remembered very little and cared less. Harlow nodded and smiled wickedly at that.

"Yes it sure does, guess those drinks did more to me than I thought. You're still here." He said plainly, letting the wolf stew over that, to his credit if he was angry he didn't show it. Harlow turned back to Dutch. "So, would you mind telling me a little more about this information you claim to have that will interest the queen?"

Dutch seemed to consider this question before answering. "Well, obviously I'd like to save the specifics fro her ears as well but I can tell you that it pertains to a group of traitors." He said coolly.

"Traitors?" Harlow echoed. "That is interesting."

The limo eventually made its way to the main entrance of the Den complex which hung over and cast a shadow on the comparatively small vehicle. Harlow looked up briefly at the concrete construct of the structure and the forms of the gun towers hanging overhead with guards on lookout in their nests. Harlow was the first to exit the car, leading the small group in the company of a squad of guards who walked with them into the Den. Soon they came to the main area of the building and again stopped as Harlow spoke quickly to another guard and the group was left alone in a large lobby. After a few moments one of the group from the Blunted Fang spoke, this time it was the one Dutch had named Derrick.

"Now what?" He asked. Harlow took a seat with a content expression and opened his hands briefly as if to shrug.

"Now, we wait."

A few minutes later a servant came back to the group from down the hallway and informed them that the queen was ready, the group made their way into the same meeting room that Harlow had been in earlier today to present the case except this time it was just this group and the queen who were meeting. Just as the group found their seats and Harlow found his spot standing to one side of the long meeting table, a door on the other side of the dimly lit room opened and the Wolf Queen strutted inside. Harlow met the eyes of the congregation as she entered, he was interested in seeing their initial expressions upon their first experience of the self proclaimed ruler of all Lycans. Harlow remembered his first time seeing her and he had to admit it was hard to explain; being both pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time. The effect of that feeling was displayed on each of the congregation's faces...being a bit dumbstruck that is.

"Gentlemen...This is Queen Natasha of the lycans." Harlow said simply as the queen sat purposefully in her seat at the other side of the long table. Dutch stood up and took a step forward although his feet seemed to be moving better than his mouth as he hesitated to speak so Harlow threw him a line, turning to face the queen.

"Milady, this is Dutch Schultz, representative of the Blunted Fang."

"Yes, I bring salutations on behalf of the Marshall, your majesty." Dutch said a bit unsure as the queen held her stare on the assembled group.She waved her hand dismissively as if she was annoyed.

"Greetings aside why don't you tell me what you are here for, Mr. Schultz, my time is short." She said firmly but not overly harsh. Harlow watched with a bit of satisfaction as the words sent Dutch's eyes darting and he grabbed a case he had brought with him and placed it on the table. He then looked up with as much confidence as he could muster and began to speak again.

"Firstly, the Marshall received the decree from your desk and would like to extend his pledge of allegiance to our cause. The Blunted Fang is and always will be loyal to your throne."

Harlow nodded as the man opened the case, he was glad they had gotten that small matter out of the way and could now get to what these people really had to offer.

"Secondly, we have acquired information over the past few months that the Marshall believes will interest you." Dutch said as he took some papers out of the case along with a black box that was revealed to have a recorder inside it. "Our order has been on the look out for possible malignant forces and in that search we have found one particular group to stand out more than the others. You may be familiar with the Lunar Brotherhood."

On the mention of that name Harlow scowled a bit and Natasha even bared her teeth slightly. Obviously there was no love in the room fro the ragtag band of traitorous wolves.

"We are, their kind is precisely why I made that decree." Natasha said with displeasure plain in her voice. To Harlow's surprise though, Dutch smiled.

"Then you'll be happy to know that our order has been keeping tabs on them. We have gathered as much information as we could on their major players." Dutch said spreading out some packets of the papers on the table. "We know they have recently gained a new leader although his figure remains elusive, our order has codenamed him "Mirage." We also know this new leader has made friends with the likes of the kindred and that the group has been hiding and attempting to bolster their numbers with new recruits."

Harlow picked up one of the files and looked it over while listening to the presentation and nodded.

"The group is reckless but dedicated. A year ago they lost most of their number in a failed attempt to take the throne and were nearly taken out to a man. Like roaches, a few of them seem to have made it through the cracks while our forces were focused on more pressing matters." Natasha stated in a business like fashion as she closed her hands together in front of her.

"That is until recently. We've managed to find a mole in their group." Harlow added.

"You will find that our order has not been slacking either. Over the past year we have intercepted several communications between the group members. Through them we think we have found their approximate current location and possibly even their intentions." Dutch said as he pushed forward the black box.

"The work you've put into this is impressive." Harlow said nodding. "But as of yet it is incomplete." This statement caught Dutch a little off guard but to his credit he recovered quickly albeit a little confused looking.

"How do you mean?"

"You claim to be loyal to the throne do you not?" Harlow asked suddenly. At this Dutch became very unsure and looked at his comrades who all shrugged at him, finally Dutch looked back at Harlow.

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Its a simple question Mr. Schultz."

"Its a question I've already answered." Dutch insisted.

"Good, then you should have no problem proving it. The time has come to eliminate this threat. We know where the brotherhood is and with your information we know their strength and what they are planning on doing next, the only thing that remains is execution."

"You're planning on...eliminating them?" Dutch asked. The atmosphere in the room became tense.

"Yes, we are." Harlow said with a slight smirk. Everyone began to listen in earnest now, even Natasha seemed more interested in the conversation. "Are your people prepared for a fight?"

This time Derrick stood up and stepped forward. "We are, we'll be eager to assist in a mission against these Nrajah."

"Good, this undertaking wont just remove a throne from our sides, it will send a message to anyone else who would rise against us. We have to be swift and decisive, there can be no hesitation." Harlow stated sharply as he looked each of the wolves in front of him in the eyes.

"You can be sure that we wont." Derrick said with a conviction that pleased Harlow.

"Good, then your team will be going with me to England, you'll be briefed on the plane. You should understand our haste, we can't allow this group to escape us now that we have them within striking distance."

"We'll need our things." Derrick started before Harlow waved his hand dismissively.

"Everything we need and everything you brought will be brought with us. Prepare yourselves in whatever way you need, wheels up within the hour. You are dismissed." Harlow said definitively.

As the group left, Natasha took Harlow aside and spoke with him lowly.

"What are you playing at? We barely know these people and you are willing to entrust them with this vital task?" She asked more curiously than accusing.

"The Blunted Fang is an organization that is...different, your majesty. I understand that you may not fully appreciate an ordered, disciplined structure as they often reek of human habits but I do and that approach is what this mission requires. I believe these men have the skills required to do the job and also believe in that old saying."

"Which one is that?" She asked.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, milady. Believe me, I will be watching them and I wont be the only one either."

Satisfied, Natasha let Harlow leave with the new information shared by Dutch in his hands, knowing the situation was in good hands...

OOC: More to follow...

I'm liking what you did there Warork.

"You're going to teach me how to fight?" The woman named Vegas was pouting at Musater. They had been doing exercises for a few hours, and they were sweating up a storm. She had arrived a 6 hours earlier, covered in lashes and bruises. She was with three people, one male and another girl. The male and other girl were scared to death, so their were paired with Longar and Fenrir to keep their spirits up before the fight.

"Well, no." He wiped the dripping water from his forehead with his handkerchief, putting it back in his suit pocket. "I'm going to teach you how to kill."

She looked at the massive man, confused. "Isn't it the same thing?"

Musater laughed at her ignorance. "Fighting and killing are vastly different. A idiot can fight, but it takes a smart mind to kill. Let me explain." He grabbed a pair of wooden knives, made for training. They weighed more than the actual thing, allowing for a better grasp of the fighting style. "You know how to use these?"

She snatched the weapons out of his hands without hesitation. He gave a quick smirk, and drew his practice weapon, a short sword. They didn't have a machete, so this would do.

"Well, come on, kill me." He stood still as she spun, her blades whirring. Musater charged, parrying with his weapon. She eventually hit Musater in the chest, and she stopped.

"I stabbed you in the chest. You're dead." She smiled, knowing she had beaten him. He, however, was frowning.

"I'm dead, yes. Dead in 34 seconds." He punched Vegas square in the nose, causing it to jut out at an obtuse angle. "Focus, girl!" He went back to his fighting stance, beaconing for her to come at him once more. Screaming, blood flowing from her nose, she did so, forcing a hit onto his neck a few minutes into the scuffle.

"There!" She proclaimed, jumping away from the snarling man in the suit. He once more frowned, and smacked her in the head with the flat of the short sword.

"14 seconds." He looked angry, like he was actually going to kill her. "Let me show you how it's done." He snarled like a wolf and charged. Vegas was knocked back into the wall, the rack of blades and blunt weapons falling to the ground. He pointed the tip of the sword to the temple, and began to talk in a low, gruff voice.

"Half a second. Now do you see?" He backed off, Vegas panting. She had never fought anyone like him, the man was a beast. He showed no emotion, no signs of slowing.

"Come on. Let's try it again." Vegas sighed as she picked up her weapons. Looking down at the rack of weapons, she noticed something to her liking.

"Hey, Musater!" He looked over, only to see the throwing knife screaming towards his head, he ducked, and felt a sharp point oh the top of his spine, and on his temple.

"You're dead." Vegas had gotten a few knives from the rack, and had Musater pinned. He laughed, and a smile came over him.

"Good. Now you're learning." Musater broke from her with ease, and began to talk, when a scream interrupted them from Fenrir's room. Rushing to her aid, he slammed open the door, and saw a sight he thought he would never see.


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"You really don't like this, do you?" Longar put bluntly, looking at Michael. He was passed out in the corner, the vomit bucket overflowing from the work they were doing.

"No... Not... At... All..." He panted as he spoke, taking massive gulps from the water bucket, while also vomiting into the bucket. How a man like Longar can run a 2 minute mile, or do finger pull-ups, he will never know. All he knew was that he will never be like the goliath who benches half a ton.

"Too much work?" Longar hadn't trained a Humanii before, and had no idea what their pain threshold was. So, wanting to find out how hard Michael was, he slugged him in the chest. That was an hour ago.

"Yes..." He vomited again, and wiped his mouth with the rag, now stained a nice shade of red and green. "Way... To... Much..."

"Look, I'm sorry. I've never actually trained a human, only Ghouls and Wolves." He took a swig of water from his bottle, and went to dump the vomit bucket. While dropping the disgusting liquid into the feral ghoul pit, Longar heard a noise he had heard thousands of times. The sound of someone passing out and hitting their head. Chuckling a bit, he prepared a surprise for the Humanii. Grabbing the meanest looking ghoul he could find, he brought it out of the pit. Walking back to the pit, Michael had woken up again. Looking at Longar, he noticed the "surprise" he had brought. The adrenaline kicked in. He jumped up, grabbing Longar's axe off the table. It was a perfect size for Longar, meaning that it was huge for Michael. But that didn't matter. Hefting the giant weapon, the Ghoul locked eyes with him. It screamed, and took a bee-line towards his meal. Of course, he wouldn't be eating Michael. It let off another scream, this one of pain. The axe had lopped off it's leg, and it crawled away from the man. He took no chances, and Michael brought the axe down on it. It cried out in agony, and died.

"There! Wasn't that fun!" Longar clapped, and them human looked at him. He was about to let off a volley of curse words that would guarantee his place in hell, but was interuppted. There was a scream, and Longar realized who it was.

"Fenrir's in trouble! Come on!" He grabbed his axe, and the man, and ran at full speed towards Fenrir.


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Muse could tell that something was wrong with this woman. She was sitting in the corner, smiling, eating a candy bar. Her hands were stained the color of blood, and so were her clothes. She smelled like death, even more than the perfume she wore.

"Come on, then. Let's fight!" She stood up and was immediately was bouncing up and down, fists up in the air, like a three year old challenging it's teddy bear. Muse drifted into the other corner, and sat down, pulling her hood over her head.

"No thank you..." She said quietly, pulling the practice scythe close to her, like a security blanket. Fenrir sighed, and walked over to Muse.

"Come on! It's fun!" She put her arm around the cloaked figure, and patted her back. "You looked like you could fight when you flattened that guy hitting on Vegas."

Muse took Fenrir's arm off her shoulder, and curled up more. "That's because Vegas needed my help." She said this a bit louder. Of course, with this revelation, Fenrir got an idea.

"Then I'll go hurt Vegas! Come on! You can watch!" Fenrir got up and grabbed an axe. "That'll get you to fight!"

Muse jumped up immediately. She spoke with certainty, ans spoke with force. "Don't touch her."

Fenrir didn't heed her warning. Walking to the door, she head a growling. Stopping mid step, she turned around. "Muse?" She asked, looking into the room.

Muse was standing in the middle of the room, her hood flipped off, scythe on the ground, and hair out of her face. She had glowing red eyes.

"Don't touch her." The voice was disembodied, coming from everywhere. Muse began to walk towards Fenrir, and of course, Fenrir screamed for help. Muse smiled as she got closer and closer to her quarry. Muse started to change. She became taller, her robe became more form fitting. Hair began to grow, jet black, out of everywhere. She roared as she became what she was. A Shunkaha, the most violent wolf known to the Lycan race. Even Longar knows not to turn his back to a Fastfang. Fenrir let off another scream. The beast advanced faster, snarling maw opening, showing an array of teeth that would make a shark impressed.

"Get the feth back!" Musater had kicked down the back door, Vegas looking shocked. She had heard stories of the Wolf People, but had never head one. She wondered if it had eaten Muse, her robe tossed on the ground, and her nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell is that!?!" Vegas screamed. The beast turned around, seeing Musater with the Machete, and Vegas near him. She went into defensive mode, and charged Musater. Of course, Musater didn't take to kindly to this. He, in turn, turned into a wolf. He was bigger and stronger than the Shunkaha, but it was faster. The two fought for at least 30 seconds, Musater beating and clawing, while Muse tried to get behind him and go for the spine and throat. The fight stopped when Longar entered, of course. When he transformed, Muse instantly stopped fighting. She knew exactly what the Wolf the size of a SUV was capable of, and went back to a human. She looked around, seeing the people, and began to cry. She sat down on the ground, and went fetal. Musater and Longar changed back into Humanii as well, Musater fixing his suit before approaching the crying naked woman.

"Don't worry, Muse, it'll all be Ok." He cradled Muse in his arms, like a mother would a child. "Longar, would you fetch Muse her robes?"

He happily obliged, giving the crying girl her robe. She slipped it on, tears streaking down her face. She looked at Vegas.

"I'm sorry..." She buried her head in Musater's chest, the sounds of her crying filling the room. Vegas sat down, trying to understand what just happened. She came up with two questions after a whole of thinking.

"Who, and what, are you people?" Longar walke over to her, and sat down.

"That's a story for another time, Vegas. After we win the fight tomorrow, we shall tell you about our people. But now, it is time for sleep." Longar stood up, and walked out of the room. Fenrir and Michael followed Longar out, so that only Vegas, Muse, and Musater stayed. There they stayed for the night, in the room filled with scratches and tears.

BIC:……………..Arl’nev, the Black city: part three………

The crowd roared, eyes filled with bloodlust. Some yelled fulfilled with victory, others howled of defeat as they saw their gladiator fall in the sand. The victor raised his arms, reveling in his adoring audience. Blood dripped out of multiple wounds. But yet he stood triumphant over his opponent. He kicked his slowly dying opponent in the stomach, sending blood flying out of his mouth. The maddened crowd of New Bloods and Ghouls cheered at this excess of violence. The gladiator raised his darkened blade up in the air. His eyes watching the illustrious balcony, containing numerous Old Bloods and the Lord of the games. The crowd roared their wishes of life or dead through the Coliseum. Mattheus smiled at his adoring audience. The people loved him for he gave them the joy of death. The smell off spilled blood. He raised his fist, the thumb sticking out. Slowly he twisted his wrist, sending his thumb down. The masses cheered at his decision as the gladiator decapitated the weak gladiator in a single fell swoop. “What a weak performance.” Hadrian hissed, drinking from his golden cup. He was still dressed in his medieval armour, the carved symbols ominously glowing. “I agree,” Mattheus responded to the foreman of the council. “But everything you have just seen, was an appetizer for the following two fights.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw that Sophia had finally arrived. Sitting on the chair behind him. “Trust me, when I say that the spectacle has yet to begin.” The foreman nodded as he watched two Pitt ghouls chain up the defeated vampire and dragging him of the sand. “I bid you welcome, Sophia of the Perpetua clan.” He greeted the newcomer. “It’s good to be here, Mattheus. I apologize for my late arrival but I had more pressing matters to attend to.” Mattheus was not pleased, this was his most glory full event yet. And still Sophia, a member from a lower clan. Had the nerve to be late. But he knew her from a long time ago and would forgive her this misstep. After all she was in time to see the most important fight and was his most trusted ally. “It’s not a problem, dear Sophia. I’m just pleased that you could make it.” Sophia Smiled at him, her hand gripped around the golden cross hanging from her neck. Mattheus knew what it meant to her. A sign that she had accepted her new found destiny. Mattheus heard the mob cry for more blood. It was time to announce the first of the two events everyone had longed for. Slowly he walked to the marble balcony, raising his hands in the air. The masses grew silent as they waited for Mattheus to speak.

Vegas watched as two ghouls dragged the remnants of the fallen gladiator from the sands. One laughed as it licked the blood from the dismembered head. “Whe’re up next.” Fenrir spoke, while crunching her fingers one for one. “I guess so.” Vegas responded. Her head was still buzzing about what happened. The sudden realization that her most trusted friend was a wolf men. And the fact that she wasn’t alone. It had kept her awake during the entire rest period. “She had so much questions to ask Muse, but she would never be able to say them.” She thought, while listening to the deafening masses. She was dressed in bits of leather armour. The armour covered her right arm, and her legs. Covered in small iron taps. A small leather rag covered her breasts, offering a generous view to the crowd. Fenrir was dressed in a similar way. The only addition were a few tears in the leather, it had been used once before. A scrawny ghoul appeared before them, handing Vegas her weapons. She took the two stakes placing them in their scabbards hanging from her waste. A rusted short sword and a sawed off double barreled shotgun. Only filled with two iron buckshot. Fenrir didn’t receive any weapons. “You don’t need weapons?” she asked her soon to be battle-sister. “I kill with my hands, so I don’t deserve weapons.” She grinned. “Good for you.” Vegas replied as they walked towards the slowly raising gate.

“And without further words, I give too you: Fenrir, the witch of the sands.” The Vampires shouted her name as she walked onto the sand. The Old Bloods kept themselves to a polite clapping of hands. “And besides her I present too you: the Wasteland Ghost, the Bride of the Devil…I give you Vegas!” The sound of hate and pleasure suppressed everything else Mattheus said. The only thing clearly hearable was the throbbing sound of ‘Vegas’. Sophia, watched as she saw the Humanii enter the Arena. Aries had spoken of her, and Sophia wondered if she could be the one she needed. She had waited a long time for a suitable…candidate. She glanced at her golden cross. Maybe the day that she could throw this wretched thing away had finally come.

Vegas looked dumbstruck at the amount of kindred assembled around them. All watching her, shouting at her. Fenrir smiled “An amazing sight isn’t it?” she laughed. “But, ignore them. We have more pressing matters.” After she finished her sentence, the voice of Mattheus could be heard once more. “And their opponent. The champion of the House of Brutii: I give you Crassus, the master of beasts.” Vegas watched as the gate in front of them opened, revealing a giant of a man. A giant steel axe clenched in his fists. Followed closely behind by two crazed Bloodhounds. Crassus walked forwards, encouraging the crowd to cheer his name. Until suddenly trumpets blared through the ambience. The fight had begun. Crassus wasted no time as he commanded his Bloodhounds to charge forwards. “Here they come!” Vegas shouted as she aimed her sawed off at the approaching bloodhounds. “Let’s go!” fenrir screamed as she dashed towards the bloodhounds. Vegas cursed, alone she wouldn’t stand a chance. The mob roared as they saw the combatants unexpectedly charge one another. The first hound reached Fenrir. His massive paws leapt him forwards, while Fenrir jumped on her knees, sliding underneath the enormous beast. Her hands touching it’s underbelly. The smell of decay, desecrating her nose. Nothing happened. The beast escaped unharmed. Leaving a bedazzled Fenrir in its wake, just in reach of the second Bloodhound. Vegas jumped out of the way of the snapping jaws of the first bloodhound. Injecting the hot lead of her first shell into the hounds front leg. She ignored the wounded Bloodhound as she dashed towards the still puzzled fenrir. Vegas crashed into her, avoiding the blow of the second Hound. But breaking Fenrir’s nose in the progress. “Wake up!” Vegas growled. “Yeah, don’t worry. I thought they were just big dogs. Don’t worry I’ll get them next time.” She sneered back. They were interrupted as the first hound, knocked them both over. His teeth burrowing in Fenrir’s arm. Precious Vitea spoiling the sand. Vegas quickly placed her shotgun against the monster’s eye. Sending bits of skull and brain into the air. Too much joy off the crowd. Vegas pulled the wounded Fenrir back on her legs, her right arm hanging useless by her side. Crassus howled as he charged forwards, accompanied by his sole surviving bloodhound. “Are you sure you can take those dogs down?” Vegas asked.” Ofcourse.” Fenrir replied, whipping the blood of her mouth. “Okay then, go for it when you can.” Vegas walked forwards, raising her hand with the short sword up. Waiting until The bloodhound was close enough. With a mighty roar she threw it at the raged Hound. The sharp edge made a small wound in the Hounds side. The beast roared as it focused at Vegas. She ran as hard as she could, chased by the Hound. “Now!” she shouted, but too late. She was pushed into the sand, claws digging in her back. Waves of pain trashed her neural system .

Fenrir watched as The hound dug itself in Vegas backside. A mere second later her hands connected with the Bloodhounds flank. This time she was prepared, she recognized the strange physical composure of the Hound, and managed to turn his own cells against him. She laughed as his flank blew up in a mess of gore. Spraying blood all over the two combatants. Her laugh quickly disappeared as Crassus Axe plowed into her ribcage, fragments of her own bone pierced through her lungs. Once more the masses cheered as a combatant went down. Vegas quickly got back on her feet, ignoring the pain coming from her back. “Only you and me, now.” Crassus yelled, sweeping his axe in a wide arc. Vegas softly leant back, the metal swinging a mere inch above her head. She quickly jumped on the remains of the bloodhound, as the axe came back in a downwards arc. Vegas avoided the second swing, that buried itself in the Bloodhounds flesh. She jumped back up, landing on the wooden shaft, that cracked under her weight. In the moment Crassus was stunned, only holding a small wooden lump. She managed to stab one of her stakes in his neck. Crassus howled as his massive right fist plowed her against the ground. Almost knocking her unconscious. Vegas pulled out her last weapon, the second stake, to no avail. As Crassus threw himself on her. His hands grabbing hers. He used his head as a weapon as he repeatedly bashed it into Vegas own. His massive strength broke Vegas right hand. The stake splintered in her flesh. ‘This was it.’ Vegas thought. A miserable life, followed by a brutal death. “Forgot me?” she heard Fenrir shout. Vegas looked through her blood-soaked eyes. Fenrirs left hand touched Crassus flesh. He quickly pulled himself away. Yet his entire right arm exploded in a fountain of red. The promise she had made Matt, suddenly flashed before her eyes. “Kill them all.” In a last desperate attempt, Vegas pulled a splinter out of her crushed hand. Throwing her legs around Crassus, she pushed him under her. The splinter pierced his eye, as Vegas pushed it deeper with her thumb. Her left arm strapped around his head, making sure he couldn’t escape. Crassus roared in pain as the splinter slid deeper in his skull. His one good hand tore at Vegas wounds. His teeth piercing her skin. Until with a final twitch his body went limp. Vegas was oblivious to the fact that the ecstatic crowd yelled her name, all she could focus on was the dark crimson running of her hand.

Mattheus was furious as he saw Crassus fall beneath the cursed Vegas. “This is an execution.” He growled. “Send in Aleron, he will finish what Crassus couldn’t”. “I strongly suggest you don’t” Hadrian interfered. “But, she’s a criminal. She deserves to die. Cain himself has condemned her to death.’” Mattheus complained. “Look at this.” Hadrian said, pointing at the enthusiastic ghouls and Vampires. “I haven’t heard this, since Aleron became Primus. It would be unwise to ignore the crowd.” Mattheus saw the reason behind this, he had come this far. His name was on every lip, he couldn’t just throw it all away. “If I may, Foreman.” Sophia interrupted. Hadrian motioned her to continue. “This Vegas, …shows a lot of potential to fight in the arena. I would be happy to buy these two gladiators, to see what I can make of it.” She looked over to Mattheus. “Besides I don’t think they’ll survive very long.” Mattheus grinned, he knew that Sophia was someone he could rely on. Within the week, Vegas would be death. Mattheus raised himself of his chair. “Beloved inhabitants of Arl’nev, Because of their excellent skill in battle and their victory over Crassus, the Champion of Brutii. I give them life, so they can fight another day.” The masses shouted their names as they were escorted of the sand. Sophia quickly motioned a servant to get a Stitcher towards her new possessions. If the Stitcher was in time, Vegas hand could be restored and that Witch wouldn’t die. Sophia smiled as the Humanii called Vegas left the Arena, clad in a dress of blood. She had made her choice.

Jill frowned as she heard the name of Vegas resonate through the air. She had found her, but sadly there was no way to get her out. Her hands pulling at her cowboy hat. She couldn’t do a thing, there were too much leeches in there. Even Kibbles was silent, he had no solution too. “Maybe, I have to find my own crew?” Jill thought. “If Vegas could do it, she could do it too.” Jill smiled as she had found a solution. “I will be just like her, get a crew and then I’m going to save her.” Jill crawled back on her horse, preparing for the long ride back to the freemen. “Don’t worry!” she shouted. “I will come back for you!” her voice sounding like an exact replica of Vegas.

OOC: Jill is now a ‘free NPC’ anyone who wants to use her…go ahead.

@Fitzz
Maybe kraub can use her as an source of information about the crooked world, if they manage to get in there?

Derrick ran his short stabbing weapon over the whetstone, the blade was about two and a quarter feet long, thick, wide and heavy. Just the way he liked it.
It was based off of the machetes used by the rebels in Haiti, the men had rebelled when several Vampirii had lost control and started draining slaves. It was geared to look like a single-bladed cutlass, deadly enough though.
The four were in a small truck, readying their gear for the flight in half an hours time.
Ruiz was lifting and dropping a pair of 200 pound weights. That was not the most he had done, Derrick had seen him bench-press a HMMWV once.
Abdi was using pipe-cleaners to oil the barrel of his shotgun, the loose amour plate was in the corner, half blacked with paint and camo pastels.
Derrick set down the blade, sharpened to his satisfaction and begin to pack his other gear.
Dutch was the only one not ‘acting tough’ as he called it. Reading over some little bits of info that had come through the wire last night.
Derrick’s thoughts kept flashing back to the ‘images’ of that clawed monstrosity, the picture wavered and twisted even in it’s case. Pushing it out of his mind, he got up and grabbed his duffel bag.
Derrick heard a whoosh and felt something tearing past him, probably Abdi, he was one of the fastest Shunkaha in the business. Probably going to get his supply of Khat.
Derrick waved Ruiz over, the two made their way over to the Armory Truck, the supply of ammo and heavier stuff, Derrick had no idea why it was brought but intended to make use of it.
Climbing in, Derrick took stock of the room, he looked down at his now feeble seeming FAL.
“Why not?” he muttered, and returned the rifle to it’s rack, taking an FN SCAR A1 in it’s place. Silver frag rounds constituted most of his armory. He added six magazines of AP rounds as well. Less silver and wood, but they worked as well.
Ruiz was apprising a stack of Claymore Antipersonnel Mines. He evidently decided that a good punch was what they needed and dropped one in his bag.
“why these here, anyhow?” asked Derrick, poking his head into the cab and moving a bundle of RPGs aside.
The driver turned around. “Help yourself, this is some of our best stuff, what you don’t need goes to her Majesty’s armory.”
“Willco.” Said Derrick, and reentered the armory section.
Ruiz’s bag was visibly filling up now, mostly medical supplies and food, but a bit of ammo here and there, drums and a few belts. Both were wearing their old army helmets, Ruiz’s helmet was tipped up to an angle where the spent shell casings lining the brim could be seen.
Derrick browsed the selection of Modular Rail attachments, a few caught his eye, but he said no to most of them.

In the end, he settled for a flashbang launcher for abdi’s AK, and a shotgun attachment for himself.
He slid the attachment under the SCARs barrel and added several boxes of reloads. By now, Ruiz had found a small C4 detonator for the Claymore and stowed it.
As they made their way back to their truck to get Abdi and Dutch, Derrick asked.
“What’s that for, anyhow?”
“What’s what for?”
“The Claymore.”
“Extra punch, and who knows, we might need to blow up a car or something."
“Yes…but, isn’t it a little bit overkill?”
“No.”
“Fine.”

sillyboy wrote:BIC:……………..Arl’nev, the Black city: part three………

The crowd roared, eyes filled with bloodlust. Some yelled fulfilled with victory, others howled of defeat as they saw their gladiator fall in the sand. The victor raised his arms, reveling in his adoring audience. Blood dripped out of multiple wounds. But yet he stood triumphant over his opponent. He kicked his slowly dying opponent in the stomach, sending blood flying out of his mouth. The maddened crowd of New Bloods and Ghouls cheered at this excess of violence. The gladiator raised his darkened blade up in the air. His eyes watching the illustrious balcony, containing numerous Old Bloods and the Lord of the games. The crowd roared their wishes of life or dead through the Coliseum. Mattheus smiled at his adoring audience. The people loved him for he gave them the joy of death. The smell off spilled blood. He raised his fist, the thumb sticking out. Slowly he twisted his wrist, sending his thumb down. The masses cheered at his decision as the gladiator decapitated the weak gladiator in a single fell swoop. “What a weak performance.” Hadrian hissed, drinking from his golden cup. He was still dressed in his medieval armour, the carved symbols ominously glowing. “I agree,” Mattheus responded to the foreman of the council. “But everything you have just seen, was an appetizer for the following two fights.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw that Sophia had finally arrived. Sitting on the chair behind him. “Trust me, when I say that the spectacle has yet to begin.” The foreman nodded as he watched two Pitt ghouls chain up the defeated vampire and dragging him of the sand. “I bid you welcome, Sophia of the Perpetua clan.” He greeted the newcomer. “It’s good to be here, Mattheus. I apologize for my late arrival but I had more pressing matters to attend to.” Mattheus was not pleased, this was his most glory full event yet. And still Sophia, a member from a lower clan. Had the nerve to be late. But he knew her from a long time ago and would forgive her this misstep. After all she was in time to see the most important fight and was his most trusted ally. “It’s not a problem, dear Sophia. I’m just pleased that you could make it.” Sophia Smiled at him, her hand gripped around the golden cross hanging from her neck. Mattheus knew what it meant to her. A sign that she had accepted her new found destiny. Mattheus heard the mob cry for more blood. It was time to announce the first of the two events everyone had longed for. Slowly he walked to the marble balcony, raising his hands in the air. The masses grew silent as they waited for Mattheus to speak.

Vegas watched as two ghouls dragged the remnants of the fallen gladiator from the sands. One laughed as it licked the blood from the dismembered head. “Whe’re up next.” Fenrir spoke, while crunching her fingers one for one. “I guess so.” Vegas responded. Her head was still buzzing about what happened. The sudden realization that her most trusted friend was a wolf men. And the fact that she wasn’t alone. It had kept her awake during the entire rest period. “She had so much questions to ask Muse, but she would never be able to say them.” She thought, while listening to the deafening masses. She was dressed in bits of leather armour. The armour covered her right arm, and her legs. Covered in small iron taps. A small leather rag covered her breasts, offering a generous view to the crowd. Fenrir was dressed in a similar way. The only addition were a few tears in the leather, it had been used once before. A scrawny ghoul appeared before them, handing Vegas her weapons. She took the two stakes placing them in their scabbards hanging from her waste. A rusted short sword and a sawed off double barreled shotgun. Only filled with two iron buckshot. Fenrir didn’t receive any weapons. “You don’t need weapons?” she asked her soon to be battle-sister. “I kill with my hands, so I don’t deserve weapons.” She grinned. “Good for you.” Vegas replied as they walked towards the slowly raising gate.

“And without further words, I give too you: Fenrir, the witch of the sands.” The Vampires shouted her name as she walked onto the sand. The Old Bloods kept themselves to a polite clapping of hands. “And besides her I present too you: the Wasteland Ghost, the Bride of the Devil…I give you Vegas!” The sound of hate and pleasure suppressed everything else Mattheus said. The only thing clearly hearable was the throbbing sound of ‘Vegas’. Sophia, watched as she saw the Humanii enter the Arena. Aries had spoken of her, and Sophia wondered if she could be the one she needed. She had waited a long time for a suitable…candidate. She glanced at her golden cross. Maybe the day that she could throw this wretched thing away had finally come.

Vegas looked dumbstruck at the amount of kindred assembled around them. All watching her, shouting at her. Fenrir smiled “An amazing sight isn’t it?” she laughed. “But, ignore them. We have more pressing matters.” After she finished her sentence, the voice of Mattheus could be heard once more. “And their opponent. The champion of the House of Brutii: I give you Crassus, the master of beasts.” Vegas watched as the gate in front of them opened, revealing a giant of a man. A giant steel axe clenched in his fists. Followed closely behind by two crazed Bloodhounds. Crassus walked forwards, encouraging the crowd to cheer his name. Until suddenly trumpets blared through the ambience. The fight had begun. Crassus wasted no time as he commanded his Bloodhounds to charge forwards. “Here they come!” Vegas shouted as she aimed her sawed off at the approaching bloodhounds. “Let’s go!” fenrir screamed as she dashed towards the bloodhounds. Vegas cursed, alone she wouldn’t stand a chance. The mob roared as they saw the combatants unexpectedly charge one another. The first hound reached Fenrir. His massive paws leapt him forwards, while Fenrir jumped on her knees, sliding underneath the enormous beast. Her hands touching it’s underbelly. The smell of decay, desecrating her nose. Nothing happened. The beast escaped unharmed. Leaving a bedazzled Fenrir in its wake, just in reach of the second Bloodhound. Vegas jumped out of the way of the snapping jaws of the first bloodhound. Injecting the hot lead of her first shell into the hounds front leg. She ignored the wounded Bloodhound as she dashed towards the still puzzled fenrir. Vegas crashed into her, avoiding the blow of the second Hound. But breaking Fenrir’s nose in the progress. “Wake up!” Vegas growled. “Yeah, don’t worry. I thought they were just big dogs. Don’t worry I’ll get them next time.” She sneered back. They were interrupted as the first hound, knocked them both over. His teeth burrowing in Fenrir’s arm. Precious Vitea spoiling the sand. Vegas quickly placed her shotgun against the monster’s eye. Sending bits of skull and brain into the air. Too much joy off the crowd. Vegas pulled the wounded Fenrir back on her legs, her right arm hanging useless by her side. Crassus howled as he charged forwards, accompanied by his sole surviving bloodhound. “Are you sure you can take those dogs down?” Vegas asked.” Ofcourse.” Fenrir replied, whipping the blood of her mouth. “Okay then, go for it when you can.” Vegas walked forwards, raising her hand with the short sword up. Waiting until The bloodhound was close enough. With a mighty roar she threw it at the raged Hound. The sharp edge made a small wound in the Hounds side. The beast roared as it focused at Vegas. She ran as hard as she could, chased by the Hound. “Now!” she shouted, but too late. She was pushed into the sand, claws digging in her back. Waves of pain trashed her neural system .

Fenrir watched as The hound dug itself in Vegas backside. A mere second later her hands connected with the Bloodhounds flank. This time she was prepared, she recognized the strange physical composure of the Hound, and managed to turn his own cells against him. She laughed as his flank blew up in a mess of gore. Spraying blood all over the two combatants. Her laugh quickly disappeared as Crassus Axe plowed into her ribcage, fragments of her own bone pierced through her lungs. Once more the masses cheered as a combatant went down. Vegas quickly got back on her feet, ignoring the pain coming from her back. “Only you and me, now.” Crassus yelled, sweeping his axe in a wide arc. Vegas softly leant back, the metal swinging a mere inch above her head. She quickly jumped on the remains of the bloodhound, as the axe came back in a downwards arc. Vegas avoided the second swing, that buried itself in the Bloodhounds flesh. She jumped back up, landing on the wooden shaft, that cracked under her weight. In the moment Crassus was stunned, only holding a small wooden lump. She managed to stab one of her stakes in his neck. Crassus howled as his massive right fist plowed her against the ground. Almost knocking her unconscious. Vegas pulled out her last weapon, the second stake, to no avail. As Crassus threw himself on her. His hands grabbing hers. He used his head as a weapon as he repeatedly bashed it into Vegas own. His massive strength broke Vegas right hand. The stake splintered in her flesh. ‘This was it.’ Vegas thought. A miserable life, followed by a brutal death. “Forgot me?” she heard Fenrir shout. Vegas looked through her blood-soaked eyes. Fenrirs left hand touched Crassus flesh. He quickly pulled himself away. Yet his entire right arm exploded in a fountain of red. The promise she had made Matt, suddenly flashed before her eyes. “Kill them all.” In a last desperate attempt, Vegas pulled a splinter out of her crushed hand. Throwing her legs around Crassus, she pushed him under her. The splinter pierced his eye, as Vegas pushed it deeper with her thumb. Her left arm strapped around his head, making sure he couldn’t escape. Crassus roared in pain as the splinter slid deeper in his skull. His one good hand tore at Vegas wounds. His teeth piercing her skin. Until with a final twitch his body went limp. Vegas was oblivious to the fact that the ecstatic crowd yelled her name, all she could focus on was the dark crimson running of her hand.

Mattheus was furious as he saw Crassus fall beneath the cursed Vegas. “This is an execution.” He growled. “Send in Aleron, he will finish what Crassus couldn’t”. “I strongly suggest you don’t” Hadrian interfered. “But, she’s a criminal. She deserves to die. Cain himself has condemned her to death.’” Mattheus complained. “Look at this.” Hadrian said, pointing at the enthusiastic ghouls and Vampires. “I haven’t heard this, since Aleron became Primus. It would be unwise to ignore the crowd.” Mattheus saw the reason behind this, he had come this far. His name was on every lip, he couldn’t just throw it all away. “If I may, Foreman.” Sophia interrupted. Hadrian motioned her to continue. “This Vegas, …shows a lot of potential to fight in the arena. I would be happy to buy these two gladiators, to see what I can make of it.” She looked over to Mattheus. “Besides I don’t think they’ll survive very long.” Mattheus grinned, he knew that Sophia was someone he could rely on. Within the week, Vegas would be death. Mattheus raised himself of his chair. “Beloved inhabitants of Arl’nev, Because of their excellent skill in battle and their victory over Crassus, the Champion of Brutii. I give them life, so they can fight another day.” The masses shouted their names as they were escorted of the sand. Sophia quickly motioned a servant to get a Stitcher towards her new possessions. If the Stitcher was in time, Vegas hand could be restored and that Witch wouldn’t die. Sophia smiled as the Humanii called Vegas left the Arena, clad in a dress of blood. She had made her choice.

Jill frowned as she heard the name of Vegas resonate through the air. She had found her, but sadly there was no way to get her out. Her hands pulling at her cowboy hat. She couldn’t do a thing, there were too much leeches in there. Even Kibbles was silent, he had no solution too. “Maybe, I have to find my own crew?” Jill thought. “If Vegas could do it, she could do it too.” Jill smiled as she had found a solution. “I will be just like her, get a crew and then I’m going to save her.” Jill crawled back on her horse, preparing for the long ride back to the freemen. “Don’t worry!” she shouted. “I will come back for you!” her voice sounding like an exact replica of Vegas.

OOC: Jill is now a ‘free NPC’ anyone who wants to use her…go ahead.

@Fitzz
Maybe kraub can use her as an source of information about the crooked world, if they manage to get in there?

Silly, have you watched the series Spartacus Blood And Sand?

Joker exited the car being flanked by the other two King's Men. They approached the facility it was a bland tall building that looked as if it were ready to be torn down. The grey paint looked as if it was being chipped off the walls and above the doorway in front of the building were a few smashed windows. "You sure this is the right place Joker?" Knight asked wary of where they were going, "it looks like it has been abandoned for years."

"I guess we'll just see then." Joker replied pushing open the double doors. Inside was barely lit hall covered in dust and graffiti. "Anyone here!?" Joker called down the hallway. At that moment Joker's cell began to ring he flipped it open and answered, "Hello? Who is this?"

"The name is Marty. "The voice sounded from the other line. "Are you here?"

"I think so." Joker replied in a puzzled tone. "Creepy abandoned place?"

"Just checking to see if it was you. We've had a couple of nosy kids come in here looking to explore. I'll unlock the door and let you in. Just come down the hall." Marty stated. Joker and Knight just shrugged at each other and they descended down the hall way to a door that looked considerable cleaner than anything else in the hallway they had pasted so far. They entered through the door to see a very sterile white room with men in lab coats at computers who didn't spare a glance from their work to see who had entered the room. To each side of the door there were two men armed with shotguns wearing very casual clothing and sunglasses, each observed them. In front of them there was a man who looked to be about in his late forties or early fifties with brown hair that had a tint of white in it. He wore glasses and had on a lab coat that was the same as the other scientist in room. He held a clip board and stared at Joker expecting some greeting but when he got none continued anyway.

"Hi, I'm Marty." He began with a warm grin, "welcome to lab 12 test number 22." He said briefly looking down to consult his clipboard for information. "You will be the in the first group of Hunters to enter the crooked world along with some others including a mage who has not arrived yet that we need to open the portal in the first place. Command says we can't start without him. You will also be accompanied by-" He was cut off as two men in trench coats rounded on him.

"We can introduce ourselves thank you." The first one spoke dismissively toward Marty. "I am father Adrian and this," He said gesturing to his companion "Is brother David. Kraub sent us to oversee operations here and see things go over smoothly."

"Purifiers." Knight growled from Joker's side.

"Pleased to meet you." Spades said in a chipper tone of voice extending his hand out to them. Father Adrian glanced down at the offering in disgust and turned his attention back to Joker. "Once this damned mage arrives we can begin."

"Right," Marty said sparing a disdainful look over at father Adrian before resuming, "You will all enter the crooked world and seek out a place of refuge where you might find some kind of large encampment of humans, or any other non hostile supernaturals that might give us some insight on the crooked world itself. Once they're back here and properly briefed we will figure out what to do next. Either find a group of free humans or attempt to free them yourselves, it makes no difference for us just get them here alive."

"What exactly should we be looking for?" Spades asked.

"Well, that depends." Marty replied, "We really have no idea what it's like there, maybe some kind of prison or camp where it would be easy to get someone out or start a jail break. If you can't find any then I'm sure one of the Kindred's personal slaves would oblige with a lifetime of freedom in exchange for some information. First things first, we can't do anything until The mage Illuminatus gets here.

"No, Judex, you may not move," purred the voice of gossamer silk that dripped with venom more lethal than that of any mortal serpent. The Judex had been pinned to his fine golden chair by a length of sharpened wood that now impaled his heart, unable to move, but horribly aware of his surroundings. Before him sat a man in a fine suit, a pair of expensive black shoes completing the ensemble. His eyes were covered by a pair of mortal sunglasses, although the Judex couldn't fathom why he would possibly need them in a world of perpetual darkness. In the darkness, the Judex could see the ruin the man had made of his lavish office, ink wells had been overturned, black pools mixing with the red lakes of his bodyguards' blood. He had stepped into his office as bold as brass, announcing his title as Scourge of the Crimson Court before casually dispatching his two Dhampyre guards with clean head-shots with a pair of shudder pistols, whose daemonic ammunition messily spread their bodies across the room, leaving clumps of hair and meat splattering over the luxurious gold-leaf wallpaper. The Judex had risen to from his seat, demanding to know the meaning of this intrusion, at which the intruder only laughed gayly, tearing a tapestry depicting the Rise from it's pole, then skewering the vampire through the heart with the pole itself. Now the intruder sat in the chair normally reserved for the vampire's guests, his arms dangling lazily over the back of the chair which rose in front of him. In his left hand, he held a wickedly serrated kris plated in gold and covered in inscriptions in a language whose origins the Judex could not even begin to speculate. He was smiling, a lopsided grin that managed to be both charming and predatory. When he spoke again, the Judex detected the unmistakable lilt of an Englishman, an accent he had not heard in a great while.

"Do you know why I am here, Judex?" At the lack of response from the pinned Kindred, the Scourge smiled, lightly clapping his hand to head as he feigned forgetfulness. "Ah, that's right, I had forgotten. Here, allow me." At those words, the man crossed the distance from his chair to that of the Judex in two quick stride, pulling four large nails and a hammer from his coat as he did so. Placing the four spikes in his pristinely white teeth, the man slipped the knife into his belt, and took hold of the shaft pinning the vampire. Speaking through the nails, said he, "Now, I can't just let you walk away after all the work I've gone through. You understand, don't you?" Without waiting for a response, he tore the wood cleanly from the heart of the Judex, who fell forward, shivering and groaning as he worked to repair his heart. The man leaned down, his scruffy face not more than two inches away from that of the Judex, so close that the nails held in his teeth touched the vampire's face. "No, no, no! You can't escape that easily! I need you awake for our conversation! I can't let you slip off into Torpor just like that!" He lifted the Judex back into his chair, placing the vampire's hands on the armrests before lifting the hammer. "This is going to hurt like hell."

Bringing the hammer down in a cruel arc, the man shattered the left wrist of the Judex, pulping the meat and grinding the bone into powder as the vampire howled in agony. Small droplets of stolen blood splattered his tormentor's face, who giggled and licked the Vitae from his face with his tongue. Grabbing the broken wrist, he twisted it backwards, so that the palm faced the ceiling. "Careful not to bite out your tongue!" He placed the nail neatly in the center of the Judex's palm, driving it deeply past the meat and into the chair itself. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He giggled again, patting the Judex on the head as he smashed his other wrist with the hammer, and proceeded to pit it to the chair as he did before. The man's sick smile was positively ecstatic, beaming unrepentantly at the Judex as he cruelly crushed his ankles and shrieked with laughter, impaling them to the floor in the same manner as his hands. The Judex was crying now, his chest heaving with sobs even as his eyes produced no tears.

"Now that you're nice and comfortable, I think we can get started, don't you?" The Judex whimpered, his vision swimming as he focussed on the man, who now held the knife once more. As his gaze fell slowly to the floor, the man's voice suddenly became darkly menacing. "Look. At. Me." The Judex snapped his eyes back up to the man, afraid of what would happen if he strayed again. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you're going to answer them. If you don't answer my questions, or I don't like what you say, I'm going to hurt you, understand?" As he said this, the man reached over and pinched the Judex on the cheek in a parody of affection.

"Now, the first question: Is it true you go by the name Copperhead in certain circles?"

The Judex's eyes filled with cold horror, opening his mouth to protest; "No, I have no idea what you're talking about. You have the wrong man!"

The man smiled eagerly, pointing directly at the Judex's eyes. "Ah, your eyes betray you, just like you betrayed Cain and his Court. What do we do with traitors? Ah yes, we execute them. Think about it, I'm doing you a favor." Deftly flicking his left wrist, the man sent the knife spinning into the Judex's left eye, popping it like a grape and burying itself to the hilt in his head. The Judex screamed, tossing his head from side to side in a vain attempt to dislodge the blade from his socket. The man rocked back and forth in his chair, the legs thumping rhythmically as they hit the floor as he shrieked great peals of laughter. "You should have seen your face! You were terrified out of your mind!" Wiping a tear from his eye behind the sunglasses, the man twisted the knife around in the Judex's socket, guffawing in open-mouthed mirth as the vampire screamed. After what seemed like an eternity, the man tore it free of his ruined skull, licking it clean of blood and bits of the Judex's brain.

"If you haven't already guessed, that was the wrong answer, Judex. Read for another? Good. How many others are there, Copperhead? How many of the Iscariot filth infest our great city?"

The Judex fixed the man with his remaining eye, which blazed with defiance, all former signs of pain and cowardice fled. "We are like a great swarm of locusts, we are a thousand thousand flies to strip the flesh from your diseased bones, we are-" The Judex suddenly found himself staring at the ceiling, utterly amazed at the blow the man had just dealt him. "Wrong fething answer."

The man was on top of him, slicing the flesh just before his ear, sliding the slender blade under the skin, peeling the Judex's face like an orange. His screams were drowned out by the mans own shrill hyena-like cackle as he skinned him alive.

It was hours before Tobermory got his confession. It had cost the Judex his skin, his eyes, and his tongue, besides numerous other depraved wounds inflicted by the Scourge. Four others in the Judex's district alone, four others who would be paid a visit by Oliver's successor. Four more confessions, four more skins. The very thought of it made Tobermory giggle.

It was becoming Impossible for Sophie to breath. A fountain of blood poured from her stomach. She kept trying to stop the blooding but the gore would not stop from freeing itself from her gut. The pain was starting to become unbearable and she was thrown into a panic as she started to feel fingers creeping their way out of her stomach and ripping the hole wider.

She when let out a scream then she felt a hand fall upon her shoulder. She then found herself in an empty bus sitting next to Illuminatus. “We’re here, Sophie.” She gazed outside to see that it was night time and there an old builder off in the distance. “Sorry for screaming, I was screaming a bad dream.” They had been on the bus for about 5 hours, Illuminatus was able to "persuade" the drive to give them a private ride.

Then both started to get off the bus “Meditating, tea and a good dream catcher can help with demons the hunter the dreaming mind.” As they stepping Illuminatus stepped before the driver and waved his hand across his face and said “Bel’dorak Ne’re’re’re luku”

The driver jumped and started to yell “Where the hell am I?” but before his question was answered, Illuminatus and Sophie were off the bus.

“I’ve tried those, they still don’t work.” Sophie said as they walked to the building.

“Well you probably haven’t had one of masterwork quality.” Illuminatus replied arms folded.

“Fine, but this is the place. The hunter Joker is here along with his men and a few Purifiers.”

Suddenly Illuminatus stopped in his tracks and started to walk back to the bus. Sophie ran up and grabbed onto his coat “Ill, please don’t do this! They’re probably not even the ones that did that awful stuff to you! Just act like an adult!”

“They are putrid lords of stagnation that only wish to see humanity decay in tradition and dogma!” Illuminatus started to fight Sophie’s pulling and her feet started to dig into the ground.

“You fething idiot!” Sophie then threw her fist into the back of Illuminatus’s head, knocking off his hat and making him turn around. Illuminatus’s tattoos started to glow with arcane energy as he stared into Sophie’s face with fury, he was about to speak but Sophie cut him off “This isn’t about stupid revenge or who wronged you in the past, if that's what it is about then you may as well try and kill every last one of them right now!” She then started to raise her voice and point her finger into Illuminatus’s face “Think about something else and try and help people because this is bigger than you or me! Now get your gak together and get over there and help someone else besides yourself!”

Illuminatus’s started to slow down his breathing “Your words better not be empty.” He took one deep breath “I will do what I can and don't ever evoke such wrath at me again!"

Sophie sighed and nodded “Good, I just need your cooperation.” Sophie had no idea what took here over, she knew that Illuminatus was the kind of mage who would rip people apart when given the chance but she had to get him in line, one or another.

They turned about to the building and started to walk. They came to the intercom. “Hello this is Sophie and Illuminatus.”

Soon another voice came in “Sophie and Illuminatus, the mages?”

“Yup, that’s us, The Super Mage Team!”

Illuminatus glanced over to her “I didn’t agree on that name…”

Sophie just stuck her tongue out at him and listened in on the intercom “Great, I will let you two in!” The door opened and they made their way in. They soon come to large room with several other men. Sophie started to shake hands with Joker and the King’s men.
“Hello, I heard you worked with Sven and Bjorn!” Illuminatus just looked over to them and nodded his head with his arms cross.
The mages and purifiers shared glances but stood silent and looked over to Marty

“Wonderful, now that we’re all here we can let the show begin!”

Eric Cole entered the front foyers of the complex, his eyes falling to Sasha Reynolds, drinking in her perfect figure and long legs as she stood speaking with two newcomers Cole assumed were the Mages they'd been expecting..Cole mused to himself that the pair looked a bit rag tag to him, but...they'd been sent by the Network...so...they had to be good at what they do.
Crossing over to where Reynolds stood, Cole also noticed a trio of rough looking men standing in a small circle conversing quietly, their eyes moving to follow Cole's movements..." Hunters" The man thought " pretty damned hardcore ones by the looks of them" , Cole nodded towards the three men, who casually nodded back..their eyes never leaving Coles face.
" I'm Eric Cole" The man said as he moved alongside Reynolds and nodded slightly to the pair of Mages " I guess you could say I'm in charge of the operations here...though Sasha...Ms. Reynolds is the real brains behind the project"..he spared Sasha a small smile..." And you two would be..?"
" Sophie..Sophie Miller" The female mage spoke, Cole noticed her tight grim face...pretty, but clearly a tough girl here...he hopped she wouldn't be a problem...
" Ms. Miller" Cole said with a nod " Welcome to the complex..." he turned to face the male mage, a tall man in a ragged robe..." And you.."
" You may call me Illuminutus" the tall man said, his face impassive ...
" Well.." Cole said, staring at the strange man " I hope that..."
" If at all possiable sir...we are tired" The man called Illuminutus said " Might we be shown to our quarters...?"
Cole stammered slightly.." Oh..yes of course...my appoligizes...I'm sure Ms. Reynolds will be happy to show you both to your rooms...you can rest there for a while...and if your hungry we'll see that meals are brought"
" That is most kind" the man said " Thank you"
" When do your...attempts to open the doorways begin again?" Sophie asked, a hint of concern in her voice...
" Tonight" Sasha Reynolds said " you'll have plenty of time to rest before we begin...now, if you'll both follow me, I'll show you to your rooms"
Cole watched as the two Mages slung their bags and silently followed Ms Reynolds down a narrow hallway..turning at the sound of a voice behind him..

" So...you the Honcho around here?" one of the men Cole had noticed before said..
" You might say that.." Cole laughed.." And you are..?"
" Call me Joker.." The man said..." seems we're here to...investigate this...world you folks are trying to get into.."
Cole frowned slightly..Reynolds hadn't said anything about sending Hunters in there...at least not so soon...
" We'll...first we'll be determining how safe it is for you guys to enter...we don't want to loose any one." Cole said.
Joker simply shrugged " Your running this project...we're just here on orders.." he leaned against a wall and eyed Cole " But...don't waste our time man"
Cole shook his head " I wouldn't dream of it" he said.." You boys hungry..?"
Joker grinned " I wouldn't say no to a burger" he chuckled...
" Good " Cole said..." follow me"
Together the four men turned and headed towards the complex cafiteria...

... Natasha slowly decended the steps into the lower levels of the Den, passing the young Cass and his Guards as she did..
The young Prince howled in joy as his eyes fell to Natasha and he quickly rushed towards her demanding to be picked up...
The Wolf Queen bent and lifted the young wolf, holding him close to her and ruffling his hair...

" I've been studying Mistress" Cass said with a smile " ...But I learn better from Zuli...will she be home soon?" the pup asked..his eyes wide and questioning.
Natasha smiled and nodded " In time young one..in time...where are you of to now?"
Cass' face split into an evil grin " To learn more about fighting..." he giggled.
" Excellent my young Prince" Natasha said with a laugh setting Cass back down..." Learn well young one...perhaps I will join you in your leasons."
" Now" Cass half asked half demanded..
The Wolf Queen smiled and again ruffled the young wolf's hair " Tomorrow young one...tomorrow."
" Awww" Cass sighed looking disapointed ..." You promise?"
" I Promise young prince...I shall teach you much" Natasha smiled " Now off with you...go...learn all that you can."
" I will...I will" Cass said rushing off happily...his Guards running to keep up.
Natasha smiled..." for him...for our kind..." she sighed " I will endure hell itself if I must.." she turned and headed towards her chambers..mussing as she did..
Harlow had departed, along with his men and those from the " Blunted Fang"...She still didn't trust that lot...but she had confidence in Harlow...she knew he would not fail her..she knew he was crafty beyond his years and would not be caught unaware by any trickery...Harlow had indeed proven to be a great asset to her...a wolf she was proud to have amongst her pack.
Entering her chambers, she saw that the area had been cleaned and a new desk sat in the place of the one she'd destroyed...
The twins Mia and Mya watched as she entered and stood quickly before her...
" We hope all is well Mistress" they said in unison..." Please of we can serve you in any way...simply say the word.."
Natasha shook her head and seated herself, stretching her long powerful legs out before her..." No.." she sighed " I simply wish to rest for a moment or two..."
" Very well Mistress" they said and returned to their place on the bed...
Natasha frowned ..." No" she thought " They would never take Kerri's place...never be the companion she had been.." she closed her eyes...allowing herself a brief rest..
Across the room...the faces of the twins changed subtly ...their bright smiles gone...replaced by narrow gazes focused on the resting Queen.

Eight months ago – three days before the full moon

The buzz of the ventilation fan added an eerie calm to the bunker as it rattled in its housing. The concrete walls of the room had long been stripped of their contents, leaving feint shadows of shelving criss-crossing the faded paintwork. The lone light in the room, set into the centre of the ceiling, was dark; leaving the work of illumination to the hundred or so candles set in place around the tiled floor. Smells of insence, burning wax and blood mingled with other, more exotic and distinctly less pleasant odours. To one side of the room lay an open and ancient book, varying sizes of jars, vials and boxes gathered around it; the text upon the pages scrawled in some language long forgotten script. A pile of clothing lay discarded beside it, upon which lay a carefully unfolded velvet cloth, laid back to reveal and exquisitely illustrated taroe deck.

In the centre of the room lay a large, muscular, black and tan dog, held prone by a single square nail thrust deeply through his left ear and into the floor. His body held evidence of multiple surgical procedures; oozing wounds, bloodstained flesh marking each incision, old and new, with marks where overly tight bandages had been adding to the clear picture of abuse inflicted on the animal. The creature looked for all intents deceased, except for the shallow breathing, slight wag of the docked tail each time the shadow of the lone person in the room went past him and half-throttled growl seemingly at random from time to time.

Erzsébet’s face wrinkled into a frown each time the dog growled at her, yet she continued to flick impatiently at his nose as she sat there watching Erzuli work. The Pure Blood was working intently, mostly in silence, aside from the occasional question of positioning asked of the ghost, drawing lines and symbols onto the floor and across Pike. The Countess had to admit her mortal counterpart was working exactly and her insights into the ritual’s construction had been invaluable but she wanted still for it all to go so much faster. They had been working on this for many hours and despite having had centuried to get used to waiting, Erzsébet found herself increasingly thinking less of the result of the ritual, based on her own work and more of the sensations she would soon feel again when bonded to the wolf. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head with a shiver as she thought of Jarin, of the sensation of breath, of taste… of blood. The ghost cursed her lust for the taste of blood and cursed her current state: the memory of sensation had faded long ago, only to be brought back in a rush of hedonistic need by her encounter with Erzuli. She sat there and sulked upon her thoughts while the she-wolf continued to work.

Sweat dripped slowly down Erzuli’s naked back as she knelt next to Pike, dipping her finger into a pot she held and smearing the dark liquid in a spiral pattern upon his chest. She held Erzsébet's golden needle between her teeth and had her long blonde hair brushed straight, held back only by a curiously quillpen shaped clip, as she worked, marking out each symbol, each interconnecting line with great care. This had to work, it just had too! Standing up, she stepped back to survey her work, allowing a brief smile to form upon her white stained face. She dipped her fingers into the pot again, smelling the heady and familiar odour of the blood-based mix within. ‘Thankyou for this Hector.’ She thought, finishing the skull pattern on her face off with a few red streaks. Walking over to the book, she picked up a lid for the jar and resealed it tightly, before wiping the excess off her hands with a rag and looking over the tome. Flicking at her hair clip the text shimmered in front of her eyes and formed words she understood. Reciting them over and over in her head for a few long minutes, she nodded to herself, grasped a small box and walked back to the centre of the room. Shooing Erzsébet out of the way, she knelt by the dog’s head and opened the box, revealing four compartments, the first three holding small, dried insects; caterpillars, pupae and moths and the last containing a bone needle and silvery thread. Placing a caterpillar inside a cut on the dog’s chest, she could feel the ghost close in behind her, anticipation growing in the room. The pupae she laid on the dog’s throat and grasped the needle and thread.



Anya felt helpless as Jarin paced before her; Heather stood on guard in front of the bunker’s door, blocking the Commander from entering and it was a situation she sorely didn’t want to be in the middle of. He had taken the request of patience from her Mistress well enough but even she was concerned about Erzuli’s insistance that the door be sealed and guarded from the outside for a full two days. It had been 38 hours since the time the door was shut and Jarin was getting noticably impatient. He had arrived but 45 minutes before and had tried to get out of the young wolf exactly what was going on but she had resisted his questions. Anya could tell she was lucky that the flex of his fists was the only expression of his frustration he allowed her to see. Fortunately for her sanity and safety, Heather had stepped up to block the door when he had gone towards it, insisting Erzuli’s orders overrode even his. This had led to a brief staring match and while the BlackClaw had backed down she had simply backed into the door, stating she would die before leaving her post. After that Jarin had begun his pacing.

“You… should head back to the Den, Commander. My Mistress is safe here.”

Anya’s plea echoed through Jarin’s head. Part of him knew she was right, she was painfully and diplomaticly correct all too often but each time he glanced at the door something pulled at his sight, like a build up of a strange energy. His eye hurt again and the headache it was giving him was part of what kept him here. Something was wrong, very wrong with what was in that room. He caught the young wolf looking at the door with concern and decided he wasn’t moving. He grabbed a chair, dragged it next to Anya and sat, still keeping his eyes on the door. He could not fight the urge that something inside was going to harm Erzuli somehow, despite the young wolf’s words.



The blood tasted bitter and tainted; which was really no surprize given the condition of the canine before her but as Erzuli drank the last of it, she could feel her stomach ache and twist. Fighting to keep herself from retching she held out her arms out wide and sat back up. The strong smells in the room, the smoke, the achingly painful candle flames; it all combined with the blood in her gut to create an intoxicating atmophere and she knew the ritual was ready. Starting to chant the words she had memorised, the wolf felt the ghost behind her move to be in front with a slight breeze that eased her breathing for but a brief moment before the glow began to spread up her fingers. Erzsébet eased back into Erzuli’s form, feeling their connection grow, inch by inch. Overtaken by her need for sensation, the ghost rushed back into the wolf, grasping the Pure Blood’s spirit and wirling round it eagerly. The sudden rush caused Erzuli to scream out in pain as the glow flared across her body and out of her eyes, illuminating the room in a brief flash of blue. She felt her body grow and twist into her wolf form, causing the scream to morph into an agonised howl. She fell over the drained dog, dropping the golden needle from her jaws. It impaled itself in the animals’s chest before she regained enough composure to grasp it back.



Erzsébet breathed out and opened Erzuli’s eyes wide with the realisation of a body possessed. For a moment she thought about abandoning the ritual but her own need to see it finished kept her in check. Taking the golden needle between her lips she drew on the Pure Blood's latent conciousness to recall the details of what she had to do. Taking up a moth in her clawed hands, she ripped the wings from the body and placed them on the dog's glazed eyes. Crushing the tiny body between two fingers, she sprinkled the resulting dust over the creature's nose. Pulling the needle from her lips, she continued the chanting, before thrusting the needle into the tips of the middle finger on each hand. With a cough and shudder, she felt Erzuli rush back and the two were stunned for a moment as blood rushed from each tiny wound and their minds entwined. Managing to grasp reality amongst the chaos and need of Erzsébet's mind, Erzuli pulled her hands over Pike's body and placed each bleeding digit over his eyes. The ghost cried out in their mind and let her essence release into the wolf's blood. Blue energy ripped through Erzuli's veins, coursing into the dog: a few long minutes continued with her unable to break away until in a final, screamed chant, that energy flung her back against the door and extinguished every candle in the room, plunging it into darkness.

The whirr of the fan was interrupted by a loud bang on the door, then another and another; ringing into Erzuli's head and waking her. She stretched her human body and although it hurt, she knew nothing was badly damaged. Feeling a wet patch on her head she put a hand to her temple, she was, or had been, recently bleeding.

"I managed to lick your wounds before I was forced out... next time we will have to be prepared for that..." Erzsébet's sulking voice came from the pitch darkness, across the other side of the room. the door shuddered behind the Pure Blood as it was hit again. "You'd better let him in... he might want to see you."

Dragging herself to her feet, Erzuli felt the door shake again before turning the wheel to unlock it.

"I am fine..." as hard as she tried to sound confident, her voice came out as broken and she gritted her teeth as her weakened state irritated her. "Do not come in here!"

Jarin's giant furred paw grasped her arm and dragged her out into the light and into his arms.

"What happened in there?" he asked, barely able to keep the taints of worry and anger out of his voice. He looked her up and down, the sight of her bloodied, naked body concerning him all the more.

Erzuli merely looked over at Anya.

"Close the door and do not open it unless I command it..."

The young wolf nodded in response and moved quickly over to the door.

"Erzuli!" Jarin snapped. "What happened!?!"

Putting a hand up to caress his face, the Pure Blood smiled wearily.

"Hope for us all..."

The echo in her mind added... 'perhaps'.

After the meeting, Harlow had gone back to his chambers, he had already made arrangements for a flight to the UK and had someone inform Katherine of her new assignment before he had gone to meet the Blunted Fang's representatives. He met her again in his chambers and they used the little time they had before the mission to enjoy each others' company over dinner which Harlow learned was some sort of barbequed pork. The smoky taste reminded him of a discarded memory long passed when this had all started. That frigid night in the woods outside of Prague, he smirked as that memory came to him, reminding him how far he had come.

"What's so funny?" Katherine asked him from across the table they shared as he stared out into space. His eyes met hers, the same blue eyes that had enchanted him all those years back and yet different as well, they were less naive, more world learned but still having the same piercing beauty.

"Nothing, your good to fly us right?" Harlow asked putting a forkful of the meal in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Katherine arched an eyebrow speculatively as if she couldn't believe what Harlow had asked her.

"No Syd, I've just been flying crates foe the past eighty years just for show, I dunno if I can manage a flight over the Atlantic." She said flippantly. Now it was Harlow's turn to raise his eyebrow, so it was this game again, okay, Harlow could play it.

"Oh that's too bad, I'll just have to ask that nice girl Carla to fly us, I'm sure she's up to it." Harlow said equally as flippantly with a knowing grin. Katherine predictably gave him a displeased look that Harlow equated with a teenage girl being embarrassed be her parents.

"I'm not Amelia Earhart you know I've been over the ocean plenty of times." Katherine said petulantly as Harlow finished his plate and went to get up.

"I suppose so, especially since you ate her remember?" Harlow said lowly as he passed the woman, still teasing her.

"Hey, I had a good reason!" She said as she also stood up and put her hands on her hip in a way that Harlow found both amusing and easy to look at at the same time.

"Besides you being hungry and her being your competition? I'd like to hear that reason." Harlow said continuing to wear his slight grin as he went to go get his bags of equipment ready.

"Well maybe if all you're going to do is make fun of me then you can just get Carla to fly you." Katherine said folding her arms and stomping off in a mock huff. Now it was her turn to enjoy Harlow's reaction as he sighed. He put down his bags and walked over to her, turning her around to face him and hugging her close to him, squashing her body against his.

"I hope you'd know by now that I'd rather you fly me to hell and back over anyone else." He said looking down into her eyes. She was quiet for a moment and nodded.

"I know." She said, they kissed, but only briefly as a certain scent hit Harlow's nose. He broke away and looked towards the door rather displeased as Alex sat there with his arms crossed and his face in a smug but tight smile.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, standing there in his full set of gear and already having large bags strapped over his shoulders. The mood broken, Harlow picked up his own and quickly flipped his wide brimmed hat onto his head.

"Not really." Harlow fibbed as he put on his duster and Katherine grabbed her own things as well as her flight jacket. All three made their way to the outside where a limo picked them up to go down to the airfield on the other side of the valley.

"Where's your team?" Harlow asked on the ride there.

"They're meeting us on the field. I picked Cooper, Lukas, Taylor, and Hector." Alex said lightly as he looked out the window. Harlow nodded, those were all good choices.

Cooper and Lukas were both Grubrah like himself native to Montana where wilderness were plenty and the human population was sparse. Taylor was a swift Shunkaha and one of Alex's best pupils in the art of stealth. Hector, he was a bit different from the others being a leftover from the battle in Prague. Harlow didn't know a whole lot about the man except that he was quiet and his dossier said that he had been one of the few wolves that fought for the Germans during the last world war. The man had been a Wehrmacht sniper in the rough and brutal urban fighting of the eastern front. Harlow had seen the Mgral's firearms skills demonstrated in person and knew he was a valuable asset already. Perhaps he knew Jarin , Harlow thought before shrugging it off as irrelevant. One thing was more important than each wolf's loyalty and Harlow himself knew that all of them had unquestionable faith in the throne and hence to him by extension and more than anything that was what he was looking for.

"Good choices." Harlow said as he too looked out the window.

"What about your team?" Alex asked.

"You see those Blunted Fang guys?" Harlow asked. Alex scowled, not liking what Harlow was implying.

"Yeah, you picked them?" Harlow smiled.

"Have you read any of my reports on them? They're agents are used to this sort of thing." He said simply, Alex looked at him disbelieving.

"You want to keep an eye on them don't you?" He asked in a flat tone. Harlow chuckled and put his arm forward to mess up Alex's hair playfully until the man swatted his arm away.

"Aw see? Now you're learning." Harlow said with a smile, Katherine gave a short snort. This in turn made Harlow laugh as well which seemed to infect Alex who, no matter how much he wanted to sit there stone faced, chuckled as well.

"I love this family." He said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

The vehicle was soon at the airstrip and the three groups met next to the private jet they would be using. there were eleven of them in all including the pilot. they got to work loading the equipment onto the plane. Cooper went through each bag to make sure everything was there, suddenly he pulled out a short weapon with a thick, stubby barrel and a wooden stock.

"Hey, what's this?" He asked, holding it up.

"New stuff." Harlow said simply, he went into the bag and pulled out a bulbous object that had a glass tip which emitted a soft blue light. "Fires these, regular forty mil grenades designed to explode in UV light instead of shrapnel."

"Vampire killers eh?" Cooper said as he put the grenade launcher back in the bag.

"What if they get closer than that?" Ruiz asked. He was answered by Taylor who brought out a matt black combat shotgun with a foldable stock.

"I keep this for close encounters." He said flatly.

"Alright, enough showin off." Harlow said over the others. "We've got a job to do, lets get aboard, we leave in five."

Five minutes later, the plane was taking off with its deadly cargo stowed. Soon the plane was at cruising altitude and Harlow began the briefing using an on board projector that had been rigged up for this purpose. He spent the next half hour or more putting pictures of the targets they were after up on the projector and giving them all descriptions of their mission and how they would be carrying it out. After another ten minutes of answering questions, the briefing was for the most part over and Harlow finished up.

"Mark my words, this will be a dangerous mission. Some of you may not come back but rest assured this is something we are doing for not only the good of the throne, but also for the good of our race. These traitors weaken us by hiding and attempting undermine our efforts, with a war against the leeches and the humans looming, we cannot stand divided. We have already tried reasoning, now the time has come for action. Be swift, be ruthless, let none escape your wrath." Harlow said solemnly as he looked into the grim set eyes of every wolf present.

"For the honor of the throne and the glory of the lycan race, it will be done." An old, yet strong voice said from one side of the plane. Harlow looked over at Hector who nodded to him and Harlow nodded back. It was the first time he'd heard the wolf speak since they had grouped together.

That business taken care of Harlow found a seat and watched as the other wolves conversed quietly amongst themselves. Alex sat across from him, stone faced as ever, looking out a window, probably thinking about the coming storm as Harlow was. That made him think of the challenges this mission posed, there was not only people to kill but assets to capture as well. Harlow wasn't all that accustomed to coercion but he had definitely gotten a lot better at it since joining the lycan cause...

It was hard not to get better at torture when you had a teacher who enjoyed it so much...

-------------------------------------------------

Six and a half months ago, A day before the Full Moon

Somewhere under the Den...

Harlow sat comfortably in an office chair with his booted feet propped up on the desk in front of him and his hands behind his head. In front of him was a one way window through which he could see a small, dimly lit chamber. On the other side stood the huge, muscled form of Jarin who had his back turned to Harlow. Screams were emitted from the chamber continuously as Jarin worked the bag of snapped and raw meat in front of him, chained to the wall behind the two.

The screams and yells had persisted for the good majority of three days now, in that time, Jarin and Harlow had taken turns trying to get information out of this specimen; a big man who was stripped naked and hung from a wall like the piece of meat he was to the two. Jarin had taken it upon himself to give Harlow a few pointers on how to crack a human's resolve through coercion. Harlow had been reluctant at first but agreed to be tutored, knowing the skill would come in handy eventually. Neither of them had known at the time that the man before them had turned out to be nigh on unbreakable. Another scream was emitted from the man's throat as Jarin broke another one of his ribs with a metal rod. Harlow watched as he grabbed the man's face and stared into his eyes with hate.

"We can keep going until I break all of them, talk and I will give you the comfort of a quick death." He said lowly. The man was in horrid pain but managed to spit a bloody spatter into Jarin's face as he panted.

"Burn...in hell...you devilspawn." He said simply. and passed out. Jarin snarled loudly in frustration as he threw the metal rod aside and marched back to the door leading to the small office Harlow was in. As he entered Harlow noticed he was sweating profusely. the only air system was in this small office, in the chamber out there there were only a few ducts for warm air for the outside to get in so the meat bag wouldn't suffocate. Jarin grabbed a small towel and wiped his face off with it, still grim faced as he stared at the hanging prisoner beyond. The man barely resembled a human anymore, he had been broken physically but mentally he simply would not break.

"He is not human, he is a piece of iron." Jarin said grudgingly as he glared out through the one way window at the prisoner who hung limply from his chains. Harlow took his feet off the desk and took a deep breath, also looking at the man.

"He's human alright. This is the product of the fanatical indoctrination of the Hand." Harlow said simply. "He's so blinded by his belief in his deity that he couldn't betray it even if he wanted to."

"We've done everything to him. I've personally broken nearly every bone in his damned body." Jarin said with a slight growl. He was understating it though, they had done more than just break bones. Together the two of them had yanked most of the man's hair from his skull, cut off his finger tips and some of his toes, pierced his pressure points, burned his eyes and nose with acid, dug his fingernails off his fingers, cut into his muscle, tapped his spinal cord, nearly electrocuted him with alligator clamps attached to his groin and many other things Harlow was just glad was not happening to him. For three days the two had used everything they knew to degrade the prisoner and get him to talk but to little avail. The man had a diamond hard core of resolve in his mind that had not cracked since they had first captured him. Jarin had done everything to make the man wish he hadn't been born, break him, but the fether wouldn't even bend. The two sat there in silence, trying to think of what to try next.

"Well its obvious that physical torture isn't working, we need a new approach." Harlow said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"His psyche hasn't even shown a dent. We've tried psychological methods, if we can't break his will we wont be able to get anything from him." Jarin stated again, the two were just trying to figure out where they stood and what they had accomplished over the past few days.

"So the question isn't how to break his body or his mind, its how to break his spirit." Harlow said, thinking aloud with his arms crossed.

"But it remains to be seen how we break a fanatic's spirit." Jarin came back. The two were silent for a few moments longer until Harlow suddenly moved for the door before Jarin could asked him what he was doing. Jarin watched Harlow as he made his way across the room to the physically broken prisoner. The man stirred a bit and drunkenly opened his bloodshot eyes to see Harlow standing there. He said nothing , just sat there in his chains and breathed in broken coughs.

Harlow looked up at him as if studying the man for a weakness. Suddenly, he brought out his knife and held it up, the silver edge gleaming in the dim light and plunged it into the man's stomach. The man gasped, unable to draw air into his lungs as he went into shock. Harlow began cutting across the man's waistline until a foot long deep incision had been carved into his belly and the man's entrails began to hang out.

"What are you doing?!" Jarin barked over the PA system in the chamber from the other room. "We can't get answers out of him if he's dead!"

Harlow sheathed his grimed knife and backed up a step, listening to the man's bodily fluids plop out of his open stomach. He turned to the one way window.

"He wont die if I do this..." He said and grabbing the man's arm, bit into it voraciously causing the man to scream out again in pain. Harlow let the arm go and backed away. The rooms became dead silent. Harlow spat and went back into the small office where Jarin was while the prisoner drunkenly moaned and cursed at Harlow for his deed.

"What the hell are you up to?" Jarin asked Harlow as he walked in, surprised at the move.

"Breaking his spirit." Harlow said simply. "Full moon's tomorrow, chain him with silver and keep him down here."

"He'll be frenzied, so what how will that help us?" Jarin asked, becoming more annoyed.

"Remember your first moon? I couldn't stand it, it was the ultimate mental torture, having your sanity swallowed by something else. He's become what he fears most, trust me, when tomorrow night rolls around, he'll beg us to end him."

With that Harlow walked out of the chamber, leaving Jarin to stare at the prisoner through the window. The next day, the prisoner was cuffed with silver shackles and as night fell he was left to slowly go mad as the hunger overcame him. After both Jarin and Harlow had had their fill, they came down to the chamber to see the transformation complete. Beyond the one way glass a thrashing mountain of muscle and fur was chained to the wall, it snarled, it howled maniacally to the point where the silver shackles dug into its flesh and caused his ankles and wrists to bleed where the skin had burned away. Harlow could tell the beast was in agony, it wanted freedom, it had to have blood and flesh, it had to. It had the pure physical need to rip something limb from limb and the fact that it was trapped was driving it insane. Harlow and Jarin both entered the chamber and stood in front of the thrashing wolf.

"Let me go! Get me out of these chains!....No! No!...Kill me, you must!" The wolf howled and snarled, barring its teeth, two voices fought, one quested for freedom, the other for oblivion.

"You get your death when you tell me what we want to know." Harlow said icily.

"No! I can't..." The wolf trailed off as his body spasmed once more.

"Fine, then you can rot down here for all I care." Harlow said turning his back and making to leave.

"I can't stand it! Its in my mind, eating my thoughts! You have to end it, you must!"

"First tell me what I want to know, that's the deal." Harlow said.

"You must promise to end me!" The wolf growled, unable to stop its body from trying to break free.

"I promise." Harlow said, nodding while Jarin waited patiently.

"You must swear it!"

Harlow stepped right up to the wolf's face and stared into its black, soulless yes with gritted teeth.

"I swear by every fiber in my being I'll blow your brains out before tonight's over. Now talk!"

The wolf's mind broke, it told Harlow about the Hand's secret base in the forests of France. It gave him troop numbers, weapon strengths, and possible weak points. After the wolf told him all he knew, Harlow brought out his revolver and pointed it at the wolf's head.

"I will see you demons in hell." The wolf managed to say as Harlow cocked the hammer back on a silver bullet.

"Looking forward to it." Harlow said with a half grin as he squeezed the trigger and fulfilled his oath. He turned to Jarin.

"Get all that?" The big wolf nodded.

"How'd you know that would break him?" He asked simply. That was just like Jarin, no applause just curiosity on how the job was done. To his surprise Harlow shrugged.

"I didn't, that was really a hunch." He said as he left the chamber, leaving Jarin to stare at the dead wolf still chained to the wall.

"A hunch huh?" He said to himself and nodded approvingly as he looked down at the information he now had.

The gladiator arena smelled of death and fear. Longar enjoyed that immensely. It reminded him of the old days, when men were men, when warriors were brave, and when there were no guns. Longar hated Archers, and had not a single on in his legion. This translated to his immediate dislike of the firearm. "You should be in throwing distance to fight", he would say. But that was then. And this was now. He sheathed his mighty weapons, fresh from the whetstone, and walked to the rest of the group.

"Longar, take your shield." Musater pointed to the Ballistic Shield. Everyone had one, and they had to improvise for Longar, using the wall of an APC. He hefted his giant shield, and laughed.

"I wish we had this back then!" He laughed, and put the leather strap around his wrist. The shield, more wall than anything, was strapped to his arm. It weighed as much as he did, but that was no matter.

"So, from this, I guess we're fighting archers, or people with hammers." Musater unsheathed his machete as he walked to the small elevator for the gladiators.

"I guess." Muse twirled her scythe nervously in her hand, the blade whirring, the red rust creating a eeire glow from the torchlight.

"I just want to come out alive." Michael pulled his longsword from the sheath, and examined it to make sure it wouldn't break.

The ding of the elevator told the gladiators to get ready. Musater slammed his shield into the elevator floor, and got behind it. The small window embedded into it would allow him to see, but would leave him vulnerable to flanking maneuvers. Muse did so as well, apparently knowledgeable about the tactics. Musater was impressed. Micheal merely held it infront of him, hiding his head, but leaving everything from the ankle down vulnerable. Longar merely drew his sword, and placed in in the hand in his shield. Drawing his hand axes, he readied the throw.

The elevator opened, and all hell broke loose. The opposing side was not Humanii, Vampyre, or even any other infernal creature. The opposite door opened, and out came rabid ghouls. There were 30 of them, and Musater had realized why they were given shields.

"Beat them down!" He shouted, rushing for a detachment of about 5 that ran to the left. Longar ran right down the middle, towards a massive pack of about 20, with Musatei taking up the rear. Micheal headed to the right, taking on 5.

Musater smashed the first one in the face with his solid metal shield. His short weapon was perfect for this kind of encounter, but the shield was not. It weighed him down, and threw him off balance. He stabbed at the one he had hit, but it dodged. He was blindsided by a female ghoul, her slavering jaws ripping his suit, and with it, taking a part of his flesh. He hit her in the head with the shield, and bit out her jugular while she was stunned. He took a brief glimpse of the battle. Longar and Muse were falling back, and Michael was dead, the ghouls enjoying a nice meal. A sharp pain was felt as a ghoul bit his calf. He stabbed it in the temple, killing it near instantly.The remaning three decided the best way to kill him, like all frenzied ghouls thought, was to swarm and jump on him. So they did. Two were decapitated by a swing, the third biting into the rest of Musater's injured arm. It took out a good bit of flesh, and his blood sprayed all over the beast's face. He roared in pain, and grabbed the inhuman's head. Smiling, he screamed and proceeded to crush his skull against the concrete wall of the arena. He gave a mighty roar, and the audience roared back. They loved Musater, or as the announcer called him, "The Business Man". He rushed to the aid of Longar and Muse, who had fallen to the back. 15 ghouls still swarmed them, and Muse had lost movement in her shield arm, and Longar was bleeding from everywhere, his gore covered shield dropped 40 feet from the spot they were fighting at.

It would be Musater, for the first time in his life, to become the wolf first. He dropped his shield and Machete, the latter falling and burying it's blade deep in the blood soaked earth. He threw off his jacket. It was too hot for such attire. His tie came off next, the choking always hurt him when he became a wolf. H]is] shirt restricted his movement, and he threw that off. The crowd roared and whistled as Musater took off his shirt, his muscles deep cut and chiseled, his tattoo, a massive hand print, the color of blood, was instantly visible. That's when he changed.

The roar of the crowd became a scream of panic. The man, more beast now, howled at the moon, and sprinted headfirst into the crowd of ghouls. The crowd had never seen such an animal, a shapeshifter. They had heard of them, of course. In folk tales and ghost stories. Mass hysteria swept the populous, the arena began to empty out at the sight of the "Fangeater". Musater, of course, couldn't hear. There was only the sound of rushing blood in his ears. There were to many ghouls. Too many. He heard the roar of Longar, and saw the ghouls fly through the air, and hit the spectators. But slowly and surly, that stopped. The roar of Longar had become a whimper, the glorious warlord being overrun. Muse had also fallen, the ghouls around her dead from the toxic Lycan blood. Now the only one left was Musater. 5 ghouls stared him down, unmoving. With a last, defiant act, Musater rushed headfirst into the mob of ghouls. He killed them all in a 10 second span, but couldn't keep up his energy. He fell to the ground, energy spent. His body shut down, like Longar and Muse's, to recover. His heart began to beat once per two minutes, and extremely faintly. His breathing stopped, his giant lungs had stored all the oxygen it needed. His brain stopped, so that the body could use more blood.

For all intents and purposes, the wolves were dead. But to the trained hunter or Lycan, the were very much alive. The field doctors, however, were not that good. The three were declared dead on the field, and were sent to the morgue.

--------------------------------

Sophia watched the four enter the arena, and enjoyed it. The playwright Resetti had joined the seated in the box, his prized fighters were up now. He didn't like the odds.

"They send 30 ghouls against 3 men and a woman? Are the Arena Councilmen insane?" Resetti sipped his ichor slowly. This was very good stuff, fresh from the host. The cadaver was beautiful, a 14 year old Humanii.

"I trust the council. They have not made a bad match up to date. Do you remember the fight betwe-" The convorsation was interuptted by Mattheus's rage.

"What a weakling! Not even 10 seconds in, and he's a fething snack!" Mattheus spilled his drink, his arms flailing in anguish.

"Be still, Mattheus. I am sure that the female fighter will fare much better." Sophia watched as the man in the suit ripped out the jugular of a ghoul. She had never seen such ferocity, and from a humanii? She would be sure to watch him fight more often.

"Pah. She is up against a horde of 20!" he pointed to the massive cluster, and where she was. Her sycthe was spinning to fast for him to see, but the spurts of red were plainly visible on the soft white sand.

Resetti smiled. "But she has the Warlord with her. He singlehandedy killed a entire platoon of men, apparently. It could be a rumor, but I don't doubt it." He made another stab inton the corpse, and more aromatic liquid filled his goblet.

"Well, he can't take down a platoon of ghouls." Hadrian chortled, motioning to the two falling back, the man dropping his shield, and grabbing his second weapon.

Sophia was more focused on the man in the suit. He showed no fear, and showed no restraint. He was walking, ghoul being dragged by the throat to the side of the arena. He gave off a shout of power and might, and beat the ghoul's head against the wall. He continued with this for some time, until he couldn't hold the head, as it was to crushed, mangled, and slippery from blood.

"Resetti, Mattheus, how much would you like for this team?" Sophia whispered to the playwright.

"My dear, he is not for-" The panic of the crowd pierced the box, and all gazed their eyes to the center of the arena. The man in the suit was gone, but in his place was a beast, half man, half wolf.

"A Fangeater! He's a Fangeater!" Resetti screamed before passing out. Sophia ran to the front of the box for a closer look. Hadrian was frozen in fear, and Mattheus was making frantic calls to get his arrangements in order.

From an early age, young Vampyre are told about the creatures in the shadows, the Fangeaters. They appear as normal men and women, and want to talk to you. If you approach them, they transform into a slobbering beast, and eat you whole. Resetti has written many a play on this, and has made most of his fortune on his best play, "The Man From Nowhere", a story about a Vampyre who hunts and kills Fangeaters. Of course, many a conspiracy theorist state that they are real, and have only blurry evidence, and half forgotten memories to go by. They say that the government is covering them up. Of course, none of this went through Sophia's mind. All she could think of is how magnificent they were.

The other two surviving gladiators changed, and the box went from only Mattheus talking to the entire box screaming in terror as their worst fears became reality.

"My god! They're real!" One shouted, and hid behind chair. Another wet himself, the liquid staining his thousand dollar robes. This settled down, only a mild amount, when they stopped moving. The doctors walked over to the dead Fangeaters, and pronounced them dead.

Sophia turned to Resetti and Mattheus. "Now, may I make a bid for this team?" The little girl smiled, a devilish gleam in her eyes.











There. I hopefully made some sort of fluff for the world, with the Fangeaters being their version of Boogymen. It's like Freddy Krueger, Jason, and Ghostface popped into the arena, to give it context.

Also, passed over to sillyboy.

... With the tortured squeal of rusted hinges, giant high iron gates parted as several Black SUVs roared forth out onto the twisting gravel road ahead.
In the passenger seat , Aron Kraub sat grim faced, his cold narrow eyes studying the display on the portable computer before him, his teeth grinding as he read silently.
One by one the vehicles behind him began to turn off, heading in their disignated directions...each moving rapidly forward towards the fullfilment of their Holy Missions...

" What of the Beast in the old World My Lord?" Brother Karas spoke from the drivers seat, his eyes quickly darting towards Kraub then back to the road ahead.
Kraub simply smiles, a tight humorless grin " Fear not Brother....our agents across the ocean have been made aware of the situation" The man nodded as if secretly pleased " They too shall deliver the Lords wrath upon these unholy abominations..this time...none shall escape us...none shall escape judgement"
" Exellent My Lord" Brother Karas replied..then asked almost sheepishly " And us my Lord...what direction shall we be taking..."
Kraub glanced out of the vehicles window, his smile growing wider...til it became a maniacs grin, his voice escaping him like a serpents hiss...
" Ah Brother...the Lord God himself has charged us with a most sacred of duties...we are to visit his wrath...his divine purification upon those who once served him" Kraub said " Upon those who have embraced the unholy...the evil ...those who are most desirving of his divine justice"
Brother Karas nodded..." Which way am I to proceed then My Lord"
Kraub stared out of the front window for a long moment then answerd the waiting driver..." Weat Brother Karas...we move West"

Part Six... The Damned


The sky burned with a dark blood red fire, scrams and groans echoed in all directions, while huge chains clanked and bashed against ancient black rock. Scarlett stared at the sea of wailing limbs far below, ablaze in a fiery torment that they could be no escape. As she gazed into the Abyss, she could hear the cries of her victims, those she had killed over her prolonged decades, her unholy life, Scarlett looked up from the edge of the rock she stood on, the black citadel in the heart of the endless cavern loomed above her.

"Hell." She spat, her skin blistering under the heat.

As she glanced over to her left she could see Olivia lying on a similar rock to her own, barely a couple of metres across it floated high above the sea of fire on thick metal chain that was latched to the Citadel somewhere off in the far distance. She wanted to grab hold of her love, but the distance was too great, a jump would only cast her into the fiery Abyss below, something she would rather avoid at this point.

"Olivia!"

She wasn't even sure the scream could be heard over the endless wailing, the air was thick with fear, hundreds of rocks carried other victims, all waiting for something. She suddenly noticed out at one of the rocks in the distance, a man screaming in desperation at some unholy dark light that was shining across him. He was on his knees pleading, some heavy, a deep laugh, deeper than the tallest mountain, the very earth itself rumbled across the realm, and then the chain broke. She watched as the rock and man, screaming in terror vanished downwards towards the flames.
Feeling her own sense of fear for the first time, she screamed Olivia's name louder, desperate to catch her attention. A third yell, and still no response, Scarlett was panicking, she needed to The dark light fell upon her causing her to choke on the word.

"Elizabeth Crawley." A deep voice echoed in her mind.

Scarlett turned, and screamed as she flew forward as if dragged across the plain of fire in a moment, she felt lightheaded, and found herself face to face with a black robbed figure sitting upon a throne of bone and death. She tried to speak, but couldn't find the words.

"You are a child of death, Elizabeth, cursed, an abomination, you have made countless mortals suffer for your greed, taken their lives for nothing other than your own whim, and for eternity you shall pay the price, how do you plead?"

"I.." Scarlett stammered barely able to talk.

"Come now Scarlett, you can do better than that!" The hooded figure leant forward revealing Nero's face, and Scarlett stepped back into the Abyss with a scream.

She fell the flame rising up to great her, an endless ocean of the damned ablaze reaching out to greet her to eternal suffering, the scream caught in her throat as she fell into the light of darkness, the shadows would claim her, the shadows would take her, damnation awaits.



Scarlett sat up with a Scream.

"Hold steady child!"

She didn't recognize the voice, panicked, lost, she cried out again, and tried to stand, the pain running up and down her limbs, she looked down to see her hands covered in blood where her fingernails had rent flesh. As she looked up she saw a dark haired woman looking down at her, Greek maybe, she tried to speak, but all that came was a vomit of blood, and her groans. Seeing a mirror behind the Greek girl, she could see, her eyes where crying tears of blood.

"I do not know your name child, but this pain, this reaction is my bloods doing, it will help you focus, to find your way back."

"Wh..where am I?"

"Safe, but not for long, we need you and your ally to come back to us, the streets are in chaos out there." The woman whispered, a sense of urgency in her voice.

Scarlett managed to look back up at her, she recognized the face, from the portraits.

"Areto.. I remember you from the Black Rook's hall."

Areto paused and stared at the red haired kindred, slightly taken aback that the stranger knew who she was, it was certainly not someone she'd met, and she did not have the mark of a Black rook member.

"How?"

Scarlett managed to sit up, coughed up a mouthful of blood and then spat it on the floor between them, a slight pained expression on her face.

"Someone I thought I knew took me there. I should have known not to trust a ancient."

Areto glanced over as the dark haired Kindred woke, silently, her eyes opening, the blood dripping from her lashes as she sat up straight and gazed at the two of them lost as if in a trance. Scarlett stopped herself and shared Areto's gasp as Olivia opened her palms and revealed bloody crosses on her flesh.

"What madness is this." Areto snapped moving over, but Scarlett stopped her with a grasping hand.

"No, she has a sight, she can see things, let her.. wake on her own." She whispered.

Areto paused, and both she and Scarlett stared as Olvia's mouth opened.

"The darkness crawls across the land, shadows and flesh, seeking to corrupt and decay, while ancients and fools seek to tear open the old wounds, the walkways between this world and the next, blood and flame shall flow, darkness will raise up and reign, though death with collapse upon us all."

Olivia's eyes fluttered as she sat there for a moment, and then collapsed back onto the wooden floor with a thump.

"She is the one I was looking for." Muttered Argural as he knelt down beside Scarlett.

She almost jumped, she'd not heard a sound, his thick hand gripped her right shoulder softly and she looked at him, surprised by his gentle touch.

"Your name child."

Scarlett looked back to Areto, could see she was also waiting, and allowed a slight nod.

"Elizabeth, most call me Scarlett."

"I can see why, and your friend?"

"Olivia, we where.. " She paused for a moment as the thoughts of the dark cavern filled her mind, and then swallowed her fears. "..damned around the same time, old England."

He nodded, and then looked back towards the entrance of the theatre. Something was smashing glass in the doorway.

"What is it, what aren't you telling me?" Scarlett asked, seeing the concern in the two elder Kindreds faces.

Areto glanced at Olivia, and motioned to her companion to carry her.

"Chaos is reigning here Scarlett, you recognize Areto, I am Argural, we are some of a bare handful of Black Rook left who haven't been seduced by the darkness we once guarded against and right now we need to move."

"Why?"

Areto helped Scarlett to her feet as some thudded against the door, Scarlett noticed they'd put a beam of wood through the door handles to help ward it from outsiders.

"The Infected reached Central Park, they have managed to reach the Werewolves that hid there." She whispered glancing back toward the foyer.

Scarlett looked back in horror as the large hulking shape thumped its huge fist against the doors, causing them to swing inward, only for the beam to stop them. A glinting red eye glared into the theatre staring at them with an unworldly malice, and tendrils of flesh pushed through the gap grasping at the beam to try and break it.

"Move!" Argural barked as he leap up onto the stage, Areto grabbing Scarlett and pulling her up as they ran for the rear stairwell and the roof.


-------------------


Ruxandra watched silently as Klauth knelt before her grandfather, as the tendril descended from the black robe and punctured the skin just above the bodyguards chest. Blood dribbled for a second down pale flesh, before it stained black and was absorbed by the skin. She almost stepped back as the large Opriknikki stumbled forward onto his hands and choked on his own blood. Tendrils pulling free of his flesh as he groaned and flexed his hands in agony. She looked around, Nero, Lilith, Byron, Samuel, Miera, Helch and Narthor all infected already. Jackal was gone, he'd not survived the attack by Areto, but here in this dark chamber on the edge of Central Park, the blood of the Dragon now carried the true taint of Vicissitude.

"You seem troubled granddaughter?" Dracula muttered as he looked upon her, his hands open with a dark smile on his lips.

"I.. have doubts."

She barely managed to look at him as she uttered the words, but instead of a sneer or a angry glare, he just nodded as if he understood. He turned to the others and she could tell by their faces they could hear his voice via the blood. All of them nodded as one, and then headed put of the chamber, leaving just Dracula and his Granddaughter alone.

"There is little point asking an unwilling host to join me granddaughter, but I understand it is a scary thought, bonding with the blood, as much own flesh and blood, I shall give you time to decide."

She gave a thankful smile and went to touch him, but he turned away, and walked to the door.

"You have two hours childe, better make your mind up sooner than later."

Walking outside the room, the door slammed shut behind him, and she heard steel bolts slam into place, at least five, more than she could force. hen behind a weird noise began to clatter, and she looked back to see the blinds of the room raise, revealing a heavy defense steel bar system across the glass, no way out, and the night sky was peering back at her. Ruxandra gasped in surprise and looked to the door, her eyes narrowing with a sudden anger, she had been give a slim choice.

"Choose to Join them or die when the sun rises." She spat bitterly.

... " So" The woman said as she checked the loads in her pistol for the tenth time " Your certain that the Hand is heading in this direction"
The man sighed lightly and nodded " Not just this way....they've deployed several of their...teams...each moving to various areas...each ordered by Kraub to engage and purify.." the man rolled his eyes.
" Purify.." The woman said through gritted teeth " You mean murder...just like...like they murdered Murry"...
The driver nodded " Yeah...but this is much bigger than our personal vendetas ...if my sources are correct...and I've no reason to believe their not....the Hand is being manipulated..."
" By Kraub?" the woman asked, her face filled with barely suppressed rage..." of course...he's a maniac and.."
" Not by Kraub...not complettely at least.." The man answered..." their being directed from...outside...for...well lets just say for other reasons than just fulfilling their crazy agenda.."

The woman was silent for a moment...simply staring out of the vehicles window and watching the countryside roll by, then she spoke..." And your sure about Bruss?"
The man nodded " Very sure...given who he's working for....and what he is...he's a primary target for the Hand....for more than one reason."
" How so?...what reasons?...besides the obvious I mean" The woman asked rubbing her eyes...
" Personal grudges I guess you'd call it...Bruss has made some powerful enemies..." The man said as he wheeled around a corner turning onto a side road...
" Yeah...he's not really at the top of my Christmas card list either after what happened in Prague" The woman said glancing back out the window.." Not after what happened to Murry"
" That wasn't Bruss' fault and you know it" the man said " how many times do we have to have this discussion....Murry died because of the Hand...not Bruss."
" We were there because of him..." The woman said flatly...." And now here you are again...trying to get us killed over him.."
" Look " the man said.." I've explained this...we're going to need Bruss and his wife...if we're going to be able to stop the Hand...and what's going to happen here....we need them.."
" You don't even know that Bruss will help you....given what you say he's been doing...he might kill you on sight...or his owners will.." The woman spat..
" Bruss owes us....I think he's the type of man who pays his debts.." The man said.
The woman laughed..." Man?....he's not a fething man...hasn't been one since we met him...he's a monster ...and you fething know it"
" I know that we need him...we need his wife...that's what I know" the man said..." Now relax...if I'm reading the GPS right we should get to this...farm in an hour or so."
The woman shook her head and turned back to looking out the window...fighting an urge to scream at the driver that he was making the biggest mistake he'd ever made . as she watched the Oregon country side roll by.