The parlor brought back memories Gabriel had not thought of in decades, either due to their content or lack thereof. Odd that he should step in off the shadowed city streets of Athens into a sort of exhibition of Victorian style and furniture. The room itself was stiflingly small, apparently intended to resemble a flat, although it was clear to the trained eye that at least two of the four walls had been constructed after the inhabitant had moved in.

The walls themselves were colored a deep rich red, that was barely discernable from the shadows, it's crimson face visible like the last breath of a rapidly cooling ember. A fireplace consumed one of the walls completely. Save for the meager glow of a gas lamp by the room's sole bookshelf, the cozy hearth served as the room's source of light. Somehow, the shadows still held dominance over the small room, even though the fire blazed brilliantly, flames leaping and licking at the chimney's interior.

Rich mahogany furniture, obviously built more for decoration than comfort, filled the tiny room's interior, set up in such a manner that all chairs faced one another. But as Gabriel and Lady Cyrilynn entered the room, they instantly noted that the angles were slightly offset, so that all chairs paid homage to one primary seat. Obviously the Princes.

The Lasombra Prince Sebastion, as they had been informed, held his clan's penchant for potraits. As Gabriel and Cyrilynn took their chairs, their eyes wandered around the various stern and serious faces, frozen for all time. In the shadowed rich velvet of the room, their features were barely visible, as if their were an audience lurking just beyond their view. The entire parlor was designed to give the outward appearance of comfort, while subconciously keeping the visitor on edge. Apparently, the Prince was something of a fan of mindgames.

The Ventrue Seneschal, a meager balding fellow, ensured their comfort and then excused himself, promising the Princes swift arrival. Gabriel waited uncomfortably, while Cyrilynn busied herself studying the various items placed on display about the room. Tomes dating back through the centuries, an authentic antique dressing screen, a fonograph player that evidently still saw frequent use were all present for the guest to marvel at.

At last the door opened, and a figure made its way into the center of the room, directly to the chair in which they were facing. Dressed in an evening robe, the man looked even thinner than Gabriel. His wiry frame moved with a certain grace that almost seemed to be assisted by the room's lighting. But then again, the Lasombra were notorious for their control of the shadows, and with enough practice any setting could be manipulated to benefit them.

Sebastion was not formidable physically, but was without a doubt a handsome man. His face was nearly angelic, almost feminine. Ruby red lips set in a milky white complexion. His eyes were a slate gray, and measured the pair before him with the upmost scrutiny. His hair was cropped short, and his black bangs combed foward, just reaching the center of his forehead.

[i:314debb120]"We thank you for taking the time to meet us Prince Sebastion."[/i:314debb120] Gabriel offered, bowing his head slightly. Cyrilynn followed suit.

[i:314debb120]"We make certain that our schedule allows us sufficient time to get to know our city's visitors."[/i:314debb120] Sebastion said in his upper crust English accent. [i:314debb120]"We trust you're enjoying your visit here in Athens?"[/i:314debb120]

[i:314debb120]"Immensely Sire. If I may be direct, the reason we've come to you..."[/i:314debb120] Gabriel began. Sebastion held a silencing hand.

[i:314debb120]"Yes, we are unforunately quite aware of your reasons for coming. We are not so removed from reality as to believe that your visit is purely one out of etiquette and obligation. Such attention to tradition is a trait that is sadly lacking from today's modern Cainites."[/i:314debb120]

[i:314debb120]"We did not mean to offend you..."[/i:314debb120] the Ventrue was taken aback.

[i:314debb120]"The affront has already been put forth. You have come to Athens, created a bloodbath in my hotel, manipulated several figures of importance, and antagonized the local populace without so much as a consideration for the Kindred behind it. By all standards of the Camarilla we should run you out of town...or worse."[/i:314debb120] Sebastion stared coolly at the pair, who looked at each other shocked. [i:314debb120]"And now you have the gall to come to us for aid? We should expend our precious resourced and power on a haven of Assamites who until your arrival have proved NO threat to anyone?"[/i:314debb120]

[i:314debb120]"I assure your highness that the attack on our hotel was completely unprovoked and we..."[/i:314debb120] Gabriel began.

[i:314debb120]"Your assurances mean nothing to us. Your requests are denied, we will monitor you until you leave our city and wash our hands of you upon your leave."[/i:314debb120] the Prince stood and stormed out, as he did so the shadows seemed to thin slightly.

The pair of stunned Kindred neither moved nor spoke for some minutes, unsure of what to do in the face of such a harsh rebuke. The door to the parlor opened once more and both Kindred spun around to see the intruder. The balding, meak figure of the Seneschal barely filled it's frame. He moved foward shaking his head.

[i:314debb120]"My apologies Mr. O'Brien. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Agatone, Seneschal of Athens."[/i:314debb120]

Durandal seemed to rise as if reacting to Serai’s threats upon it’s user. Alekz stood, blade-point warding off his duplicitous guests advances.

[i:443efd7a3b]“Considering you are in [b:443efd7a3b]my[/b:443efd7a3b] domain. And are so under false pretences, I would strongly suggest you lower your voice and start explaining yourself before I run you through.”[/i:443efd7a3b]

Serai’s eyes widened. What madness was this? This was, if anyone’s, Kaniel’s domain.

[i:443efd7a3b]“I asked you a question! What have you done to my friend? Where is he?”[/i:443efd7a3b]

Aleks was in no mood for questions, instead he reacted to her impolite interrogation with a warning swipe. The sudden, efficient gesture of his sword sent a sharp jolt along her forearm as his sword struck the one she held.

[i:443efd7a3b]“Like I said, [b:443efd7a3b]you[/b:443efd7a3b] are the one endangered here. You have lied about your identity and that of your Mistress. Tell me. What other lies will we uncover today?”[/i:443efd7a3b]

He stepped forward, the tip of Durandal resting painfully on Serai’s chest.

Her reactions were exemplary. She stepped back, pirouetting away before replying to his sword’s threats with a few of her own.

The sword, though relatively clumsy and short compared to the curious bastard sword Alekz wielded, was still formidable. The air around it’s edge seemed to warp and recoil from the bronze weapon. Alekz recoiled just as instinctively. The swords finally clashed edge upon edge sending sparks into the air.

[i:443efd7a3b]“Impressive. Most impressive. What other tricks do you know?” [/i:443efd7a3b]

He was taunting her. But she was better trained than he’d surmised. She merely smirked in response. Her confidence was a touch overt.

So he found another way to provoke her anger.

The upward slash left a red, ragged but narrow line across her shoulder. The flare of pain instantly converted to pleasure. Her breathing quickened as they clashed again. One empassioned. The other impassive.

8)

The stranger's taunts [b:5aeb695e02]were[/b:5aeb695e02] affecting her but not quite in the way he intended. If anything, they firmed what resolve she had to rid her, and her "grandfather", of his presence so that she could tend to Kaniel. In whatever form that should take. She certainly hoped it would not be that of a eulogy. Serai merely ignored the intruders threats, letting the seeds of his gibes fall on the dead soil of her heart.

The woman circled the interloper like a great black cat, the lines of a panther evident in her fluid moves, seeking passage toward Kaniel's crumpled form. She desperately wanted to assess his state of health. The body was so still and all she could see of his face was a small, paper thin patch of his weathered cheek; only one of his eyes could be glimpsed, closed in oblivion, the thinned lashes laid gently on that rounded slope . She couldn't make out any rise and fall of his chest, to know if he still breathed. She brought her full attention back to their trespasser.

She stepped in with a few feints and parries, most of which garnered her more pinks and pricks then she bargained for, but he didn't land any solid blows beyond the beginning jar to her arm. She wondered if he might be playing a game of cat and mouse. The shallow cut on her shoulder stung with each move but it only served as a spur to the euphoria such "love bites" imparted to her. Such things heightened her senses and brought everything into a much sharper focus.

[i:5aeb695e02]"This is the home of my friend and host, Mr. Abram Kaniel. I was invited but [b:5aeb695e02]YOU[/b:5aeb695e02] weren't! Let me past to make sure he's alright and I just might let you escape from here unscathed."[/i:5aeb695e02] Her voice stayed low and flat, the threat carrying a wealth of determination with it. Her opponent never smiled or answered her, he simply blocked any of her attempts to approach the old man.

That alone was enough to start fanning the embers of her smoldering temper, that he refused her the right to aid her friend. It could only mean that there was a good possibility that Abram lived and that her enemy was denying her access to him. Desperate to reach him she tried to rouse him with voice alone. [i:5aeb695e02]"Abram! Abram Kaniel!! If you can hear me, call out or move. Let me know you're alright!! Please, Abram!"[/i:5aeb695e02] She disengaged and moved back a few steps but kept a wary eye on her adversary, hoping he would have the decency to allow her this much.

His words, it seemed, had fallen on deaf ears. The reality just wouldn’t reach her. Well perhaps it would if struck into her with a hammer.

He stepped aside, never dropping his guard, allowing her to see the truth in all it’s terrible glory.

Serai raced to Kaniel’s crumpled side. She held back frightened tears as she moved the folds of ruffled fabric that covered the strangely reduced frame of her beloved. Her fingers tentatively peeling back the layers until the truth left her fighting for breath.

Kaniel’s face lay partially folded. Her throat rippled, restraining bile from escaping. Her fingers told her the facts, though even so her mind didn’t or couldn’t accept it.

The face wasn’t flesh. It was some advanced form of latex mask. The clothes were empty save for an elaborate body brace sewn on the inside. She pulled back in shock, before an incandescent rage flooded through her.

[i:72fd6f354f]“Where is he!? I’ve had enough of this! Show me where he is or by god!”[/i:72fd6f354f]

Alekz pointed Durandal’s tip towards the clothes and mask, then gestured towards himself. Nodding.

[i:72fd6f354f]“Are you blind as well as foolish? I’m Kaniel. Or rather, I am sometimes.”[/i:72fd6f354f]

He pointed the sword at her again. His face looking determined.

[i:72fd6f354f]“Now that you know who I am. Would you be so kind as to say who you [b:72fd6f354f]really[/b:72fd6f354f] are?”[/i:72fd6f354f]

His answer was a slash to his cheek, an inch below his eye. He stepped away his right hand reaching to the cut as he healed it.

[i:72fd6f354f]“Ow. That was unexpected. Very well. If you won’t play nice...”[/i:72fd6f354f]

His hands joined each other on the handle of his sword. He rose the weapon sharply, showering the wooden floor with fresh sparks as the edge scraped hers. They entered into a complex weaving of steel upon steel. The artificial light glittered along the blades as they spun, parried and feigned. Pushing each other back. Gaining and giving ground in a fantastic deadly dance. Alekz was impressed, an all too rare occurrence, as she matched his motions perfectly. He decided to up the ante, stepping into an elaborate sequence of lunges, parries, dropping to his knees, rolling, spinning. He moved like some vicious balletic dancer. The sword, his silent, partner in a dance of steel.

Serai was beginning to struggle. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried to maintain her assault. But he was everywhere. It seemed he second guessed every lunge, every riposte she had to offer. And he paid in kind drawing dozens of miniature gashes on her upper arms, thighs and a few in her side. Her breathing was becoming frenzied. Her mind aflame with the passions his inflicted pain inspired. She could feel it building. Somewhere in her stomach. A warmth. A longing. A creeping lust that had to be released. A fire of passion pooled in her belly. And still he pressed on. Insistent. Unstopping.

He wasn’t breaking a sweat. That she had noticed. He wasn’t panting. Which he would be were he mortal. But his face was beginning to show fatigue in it’s own way. She had to stop him. The longing the wounds were opening in her had to find release.

He made a sound that resembled a growl before stepping forward, his sword snaking it's way around hers. Twisting his hand sent her weapon tumbling. He held her, Durandal between them like a razored wall...

She exploded on him! But not the way he expected. He'd been prepared for her to retreat or to make an effort to retrieve her weapon. She did none of these, instead she darted quicker than a Setite, past his own blade, the keen tip skating across her lower abdomen, spilling more droplets of blood onto the already stained mat of the room. It seemed as if this was a final straw as she launched herself at him and struck mid-torso, her hands going around his neck in a strangle hold, her legs scissoring around his waist. She was plastered against his upper body.

The shock of the unexpected attack caused Alekz to drop his sword in astonishment, as he was caught off guard. His arms went around her in an unconscious embrace and he was aware of the coppery scent of her vitae, as it teased at his enhanced senses, his fangs extruding at the nearness of the needed fluid. The next move she made startled him even more as she began to ravage his mouth in a savage kiss, thrusting her tongue inside with greedy sweeps. A shuddering moan escaped her throat as she encountered his sharpened incisors.

Serai had refused to believe the evidence he'd allowed her to see for herself, let alone admit to the fact that Kaniel was a fake, a fraud. A rage at Abram Kaniel's true demise was so blinding as to wash her mind in a red haze that gripped her and she honed that anger to match the edge of her own sword. But she'd been unable to sustain it between the enticements of the pain from her cuts and her admiration of his skills. She'd known, from the moment he'd begun in deadly earnest, that she was no match for him. And yet, the lust that had built to exquiste proportions drove her to the one way of defeating him he would never have suspected.

Her thirst for him only grew stronger when the realization struck that he was vampire! She began to tear at his clothing and her struggles bore them both to the floor. He landed on his knees and counterbalanced by settling back onto his ankles, his hands still locked on her ribs to prevent any further movement. Then he kissed her back, sinking his teeth into her bottom lip. She drew back from him with glazed eyes and gulped air. Then bared her throat to him and begged huskily [i:72598bbd29]"Drink from me. Please!! Do it [b:72598bbd29]now[/b:72598bbd29]!!"[/i:72598bbd29]

Alekz reeled with this new development! She'd done this before!! She was someone's ghoul and that meant...........that her mistress, Lady Cyrilynn, was....... This needed to be sorted out and soon but the frantic mass of silk and sinew in his arms needed to be dealt with first and there was only one way to do it. If nothing else, he was certainly happy to oblige the delicious little package in his embrace. He bit deeply and began feeding, replenishing himself and, at the same time, neutralizing her!

"Angel" stiffened as the fangs sunk home and then went lax as the euphoria spread and she convulsed with the sexual release she'd built up. Her eyes slid to half mast and she panted like a marathon runner. As soon as Alekz had had his fill, he withdrew and licked the pinprick holes closed. The woman's eyes fluttered shut and she collapsed against his shoulder, her arms sliding down to dangle loosely. The young Maven laid her out on the floor and looked her over to ensure that all the fight had left her. He laid a hand against her neck, seeking her pulse, finding it slow but steady.

[i:72598bbd29]"My name is Serai."[/i:72598bbd29] Came a whisper so quiet that even his own vampiric ears almost missed it. [i:72598bbd29]"I wish you hadn't killed him. Kaniel, I mean."[/i:72598bbd29] And then the tears began to flow. She curled over on her side and sobbed like a little child who'd lost her best friend.

All the information took a while for Mundug to comprehend, he looked at the men, waiting for more to be said, but both of them were silent now. Their facades of old men slowly vanished and revealed their true visages. Both of them were middle-aged strong looking men, their aura reflected a hint of nobility. Mundug had met one of them before, Salah al-Hudin. They had fought a bloody fight that Mundug had almost not survived. It was a surprise that had survived the fight, Mundug remembered tearing his heart out of his chest and thought he had given him final death. No doubt the assamite had been stronger in the blood than Mundug had suspected. There was still anger in Mundug for what he had done, Salah had deserved to die, there was no doubt in Mundug's mind about that.

The two men were still looking at Mundug in silence. It became clear now that they expected an answer from him, but Mundug wasn?t sure what to say, He somehow failed to understand how everything what they had related to him did concern him, why would he want to get involved in a matter like this one. He did not owe anyone, not Eveshka, not Julius, as he had kept his promise and not harmed any of the tremere warlocks anymore since he had made the agreement in exchange for his help and he certainly did not owe anything to the assamites. No, they were asking him for a favor, they needed his help, it was that simple.

Mundug looked in the eyes of Hassan and Salah.

'Why, would I risk my live and help you?', the question was surprisingly blunt, but right to the point.

Hassan looked at Salah and then he replied.

'A logic and justified question, why would you help us? We could offer you any reward you like and try to persuade you, but we do know better than that. There is no reason except reason and you will make your decision using it. Whatever that decision will be, it will not detract from the honor you earned from my brothers and me.'

The answer confirmed what Mundug had realized moments earlier, the decision was entirely his. There was a saying among his tribe that said that there was a time for fighting and a time for fleeing and that only a wise man knew when what time had come. Even though he was without doubt the eldest man of his tribe, Mundug did not consider himself a wise man.

'I will help. I will warn my fellow kindred and I will stop the minions of your brother Ali together with you, but I will not enter that tomb under any circumstance.'

[i:5e004361a2]"And that brings us to our current situation."[/i:5e004361a2] Agatone concluded, looking considerably more comortable in the familiar surroundings of his apartment. He took another healthy dose of brandy and what Gabriel detected to be freshly acquired blood.

Gabriel leaned back into the recliner he sat in, and gave a thought filled look towards Cyrilynn. She seemed to be considering the possibilities of the situation as well. Apparently, Prince Sebastion was not terribly popular in his own realm, being surrounding by Ventrues playing second fiddle to him. Indeed, a Lasombra Prince was a rare occurance, and understandably so. Within the Camarilla's pillars of power, there were very few who looked upon the Clan of Shadows with a sympathetic eye.

Agatone and the fellow Ventrue of Athens had plotted and schemed repeatedly to remove Sebastion from power, but all attempts had failed. Yet still, Sebastion kept them in their places simply to gloat over them. So they had pooled their resources, but needed a fall guy...Gabriel seemed to fit the bill. In return for his assistance, they would provide all the firepower he needed for his little assault.

[i:5e004361a2]"You've got a deal."[/i:5e004361a2] Gabriel said at last.

((all right, the next post will emcompass the assault and everything therein so we can get to the museum and get up to speed with everyone

[i:35384ac4e3] Mont Louis [/i:35384ac4e3]

As the days passed Julius continued to study the books. He got all manners of nifty anecdotes from them, but apart from that, they seemed interesting, but useless to the issue at hand. The book flopped off of his lap as he sat in a recliner with his legs up. Eveshka looked up from a map.

"That good eh?" she asked.

"Mmm," mumbled Julius rubbing his fatigued eyes. He'd been staring down at these moldy old books for nearly 15 hours straight. “I can’t find anything about where the hell the Grotto is or was. I don’t think they have any clue.” Eve tilted her head to the side a bit.

“What did it look like? Do you remember?” she asked.

“For some reasons, I remember images of something out in the desert,” he said and then shook his head. “But that won’t be very helpful, unless we come across a picture of it someplace.”

Eve stood up and strolled over to the window. She could see a small boat’s lights moving slowly along the Loire heading in the direction of Amboise. “Is there a way you could conjure an image of it that I could see?”

Julius looked over at her confusedly. “You mean, like make one of those little bubbles that you see in cartoons so that you can have a look inside my mind? Like a caption?” he asked laughing.

“Something like that,” she said. He could see that she didn’t appreciate being laughed at. “Don’t laugh at me, Julius. I don’t know the limitations of magic.”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry, lover,” he said. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. But I don’t think that there is a way.. to…hmmm.” Julius moved over to the fireplace and picked up a bit of an herb and threw it into the flames. The flames changed colors to bluish green. The smoke lingered in fluffy clouds. Julius raised his hands and started to turn them about as if sculpting something. The smoke clouds began to morph into the shape Julius desired. Eveshka sat down and watched him with interest. The clouds looked pretty. She began to sink into a bit of a rapture seeing all sorts of different things within.

“Done,” he announced. Eve shook her head slightly and lifted from the rapture. Before he floated an image in smoke. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and rapidly sketched it out. She finished just as it began to dissipate. “So that is where the grotto is then?” she asked.

“Yup,” said Julius with a shrug. “But, I’ve got no idea where it is apart from somewhere in the Middle East.”

“I think I have an idea,” she said. This time it was Julius’ turn to watch her move about. She moved over to a computer and did a search. “Whatcha doin?” asked Julius. “There,” she announced happily. She moved out of the way and Julius sat down before the monitor.

“Ubar?” he asked. “Um… I’m not sure I follow you.”

“Just read,” she said. Julius selected the item and scanned through it. He shifted his position a few times as he got more engrossed in it. “You’re brilliant, Evey,” he announced. “LANDSAT. Never woulda thought of that.”

“The way they talk about the rivers and the tributaries of the Salt Sea means that our target is someplace in the watershed of the Sea of Galilee,” said Eve.

“Right,” said Julius. He typed away on the computer doing searches and making queries. Several more hours had passed by. Eve had long since gone to rest after shutting the heavy curtains. Julius had finally made a match. By using the drawing made with Eve’s meticulous attention to detail and basically playing a matching game with land formations in and around the Galilean watershed, he had found the mountain inside which was the Grotto of Shal Ka-Mense. It was in Syria at a place called Qaalat al Hosn. In former times it had been known as the Crac de Chevaliers and was one of the greatest castles built by the crusaders in the Holy Land. Julius flopped down next to Eve in their lavish bed. This little discovery would require a significant amount of celebration. He knew that Eve would be only too happy to “celebrate” when they both got up.

Julius and Eveshka flew over to Jerusalem and then made their way up to Crac de Chevaliers. The trip took several days and necessitated the use of Julius’ arch-nemesis: the Camel. Camels and Julius somehow had an inherent loathing of each other that was immediately apparent to Eve. Eve on the other hand took a liking to hers and gave it a rather silly name. “Gary?” demanded Julius hotly. “You named the stupid beast GARY!?!”

“Maaaaaaaaaaahh,” replied Gary and sent a good sized bit of spit flying towards Julius. Eveshka laughed uproariously and made a great show of affection towards Gary, petting his nose and feeding him sugar cubes. “Witch,” said Julius as he turned about and headed north. Eveshka continued to laugh.

On the third day of their journey they reach the foot of the mountain atop which was perched Crac de Chevaliers. They left the camels at the foot of the mountain and made their way up. Within an hour they had reached the summit. Inside the central donjon they found an opening that led downwards. There was no secret doors, no hidden access ways, no nothing. Everything was simply out in the open for all to see. Eveshka drew her Dread Rapier and started down the stairs. Julius seemed reluctant to follow at first but plunged on ahead. He was having a horrid case of Déjà vu. In this case, it was not Déjà vu. He had actually BEEN there, several thousand years before.

“Do you sense anything?” asked Eve scanning around with heightened senses activated.

“Only ten thousand year old memories trying to claw their way up the back of my neck, having a little party as they do, so that the hairs stand on end,” said Julius. Eve had made it all the way down the stairs and stepped out onto the landing. “Look, I know this great bar in Damascus...” he said again. Eve just looked at him and stepped further into the gloom.

“I don't see anything. No traps, no wards, no nothing,” said Eveshka. Julius looked hopefully back up the stairs, plainly not wanting to be there. She had never seen him like this before. “Shouldn't there be something inside?” she asked continuing to look around.

Julius stepped onto the landing as well finally, and said, “You do realize that our greatly vaunted ultimate Grandsire is supposed to be here, according to the legend.” Eveshka nodded.

“That’s what worries me, I don’t feel like waking up the old Codger.”

“The guy was a dick.” Said Julius. Eve stifled a bit of laughter at this unexpected pronunciation. “Oh?’ she asked. She had reached a pillar that obscured the line of sight straight ahead. Two other passages to either side left the main chamber. The barrow seemed to be cruciform in pattern. For some odd reason that gave Eve the willies.

“Always bemoaning his fate, sackcloth and ashes. If the stupid fucker had accepted salvation from the angels in the first place, he'd have his place in the afterlife, but oh no... he has to go off punishing himself for killing his brother,” said Julius. He stopped suddenly.

“I have no idea where that came from,” Julius said. Eveshka scanned his aura and saw that he was confused. “I think I’ve been here before. The Old Man should be right at the other end of this tunnel, around the pillar.”

Eveshka looked at the pillar closely and saw all manners of intricate carvings. “Whoa. Look at the carvings. They are the same as the scroll.”

“They should be,” said Julius. “Ishtar made them.” He blinked a bit and then said, “I HATE this.”

Eveshka gave Julius a glance but said nothing. She turned her attention to the carvings on the pillar and traced them with her finger. “Ishtar. I’ve a feeling I met her,” she said.
She shrugged and continued around the pillar towards the passage leading to Caine’s resting place. Julius followed her with reluctant steps. “I’ve got the same feeling,” he said. Eveshka walked to the end of the passage and stood before an odd bed-like altar.

“He’s not at home,” she said. “Are you sure this whole thing isn't just bullshit, Julius?” Eve sat down on the bed/altar and bounced a little. Julius hopped up onto it next to her. He lay back. “Let's assume I'm Caine for a moment. I'm laying here, being all in torpor,” said Julius. Eve lay back with him and got a girlish smirk on her face. “And then suddenly, this cute chick turns up and I wake up and ravish her,” he continued. “Or that's my plan.... except she suddenly pulls out a stake and rams it into me. Which is odd, cos my plan was to insert the wood into her,” he finished with a laugh. Eve rolled over Julius and straddled him in one well-practiced move. “Wanna fuck on Daddy’s bed?” she asked with a laugh. She swung her other leg over him and stepped back onto the floor looking around.

“Let me think,” he said. “Ishtar was standing right there.” He pointed off about ten paces away from their position. “Caine was mightily pissed. And I,” said Julius, jumping off the slab. “Was standing around this corner.” He walked over to where one of the arms of the cavern reached out. I was standing in the shadows. So I guess it’s not bullshit.”

“Who were you, Julius?” asked Eveshka.

“I was... dammit, you try to remember things which happened this long ago,” he said, trying to remember. “I was supposed to be guarding Caine. A prospect that was becoming increasingly unappealing, as the supply of vitae he had left me was dwindling. You see, I was his ghoul.”

She looked astonished.

“And YOU were my slave girl,” he said with a smile. “Or was that before...? Yes. I think that was before we left Enoch. And I can't even begin to remember why we came here.”

“Oh god, this could get complicated,” Eve said with a frown.

“Look. Let's focus on that moment,” Julius said. “I'm standing here, hiding, thinking I hope something good happens, or I'm going to get real old real quick. Ishtar sticks the stake into the big guy. Blood everywhere, some of which gets bottled up. Ishtar thinks she'll do it again, pulls out the stake. I'm all kinds of bonded to Caine so I shout for him to wake up. And he gets up off the slab and makes with the wrath. Couldn't beat those days for a good dose of wrath. Ishtar runs for her miserable unlife. Caine goes back to sleep.”

Eveshka nodded, listening in awe the entire time.

“So, I'm stuck,” continued Julius. “I've got to get dosed up on Vitae, or I'm done for.” He paused for a moment. “What else could I do, I knew who had some. I went after Ishtar. Ishtar headed out across the desert. She eventually caught me tagging along.
We went to Lamech, I think that was it. She handed over the blood.” He rubbed his head thinking.

“It kinda left me without my medicine. She was apologetic, but... I think she thought me a risk. In fairness I probably was. Being Caine's ghoul had it's share of powers,” he said.

“Did she kill you?” asked Eve.

“No, I was past mortal years. It was only Caine's vitae which had kept me going. Take my advice. Never be a ghoul who dies from lack of vitae...” said Julius trailing off.

“Do you remember where Lamech is?” asked Eve. Julius looked into her crystal blue eyes and nodded sadly. “I’m going to have to relive it aren’t I?” Eveshka nodded.

“You are the only one who knows where it is,” she said.

Julius was silent for a moment and then said, “No such thing as fate, yet to me it seems as if I am on a path laid down for me millenia ago. I wonder what would happen if I simply walked away.”

“It would find you somehow,” said Eve. “It found us and brought us back together.”

“That it did,” said Julius with a smile. He touched her little finger and said, “I don’t know what it is about this, but you have me wrapped around it.”

“You’re my bitch,” she said with a smile and licked his nose. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said.

The two climbed up the stairs and out into the night. They journeyed a little ways to a small village where they could rest out the daylight.

“So, if that was Caine’s resting place,” began Eve. “Where the hell is Caine now?”

“Fuck knows,” said Julius.

There were times when watching the rising and falling of stocks was tedious. This was one of them. The full moon lit the room with enough illumination to see the still form on the bed. Tyler was proving to be a delightful partner. If she let herself, she would come to care too much. Gabriel would want his ghoul back soon or later, then where would she be.

Tyler's instinct for business was almost as sharp as hers. Of course, he didn't have psychic abilities to warn her of sudden changes, but he was good, very good. Their relationship had progressed to the point of joining each other business meetings and discussing them afterwards. And if that was followed by spending most of the night in bed, that was to be expected.

Elzbet's eyes had drifted from the ticker tape running over the screen. Now she gazed into nothingness, simply dirifting. A small noise intruded her thoughts, an electronic "chirp". Elzbet ignored it. These were the safegaurds that her programmer set up specifically for watching the Markets. If a stock dropped below a certain point, it would inform her, if it dropped further, it would sound off twice. Heaven forbid that it fell enough further, then a claxon would go off. Just like it was now.

That brought Elzbet out of her reverie quick enough. The constant beeping from the laptop was incessant. She looked at the screen and stared. Every single stock was plummeting through the floor. This couldn't happen. Sure, a few could possibly drop like that, but not all of them, all at the same time. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, trying to get some reaction from the machine, but none of the keystrokes were registering.

Suddenly, the numbers on a few of the stocks turned bright red and began to dissolve to the bottom of the screen, pooling there like blood. Her computer was supposed to do that! Calmness settled over her like a blanket, this must be a vision. That was the only explanation for everything. She watched as all the prices dribbled down and made the comparison to an EKG monitor.

Finally the last one melted away and she was left with a thick red line coating the edge of the monitor. A steady beep signalled the end, the end of the world as the Markets flatlined. She came to staring at the message asking if she really would like to sell that Darrant Industries stock. Clicking on the negative, she shut the program and turned the computer off. Maybe it was time to contact some people. Something was definately going on, and that meant research.

Just a bit closer...a bit closer...

Sidney slid his tongue down Angalene's neck with renewed passion, hoping desperately to somehow spur her hand from the middle of his leg towards his crotch. His manhood bulged in his standard issue pants, and the rest of the tiny barracks that served as his room seemed to wash away as he felt himself wrapped in the warmth of lust that was ever seeping from his groin.

He had been anticipating this moment for weeks now, after all, it wasn't often that the "General" as they called him, was away and he was actually allowed to bring women in from Athens proper. For all the benefits and the high pay as a private security officer for the secluded estate of their shadowy employer, the job was certainly tight on secrecy. But now, as the prostitute did what she did best, everything seemed worth it.

Her blonde hair bounced in unison with her breasts as he thrust his hand under her short blouse, groping clumsily underneath. Suddenly, the door to the sparsely decorated room was thrown open and the two immediately jumped to opposite sides of the bed they had been on, like guilty teenagers. Sidney shot an angry glance towards the door.

His fellow agent Anthony, a greasy Italian of slender build, stood peeking out from behind the door. He gave Sidney a knowing smile, but did not receive one in return.

[i:ce0090da77]"Get the f*ck out!"[/i:ce0090da77] Sidney roared, standing from the bed before realizing his erection was now in full view. He heaved a pillow from the bed, placed it across his crotch and took a menacing step foward. The thin face from the door smiled briefly, and then slowly retreated into the hallway, closing the door once more.

[i:ce0090da77]"Who was that?"[/i:ce0090da77] Britney inquired, brushing the tangles from her blonde locks. Sidney sat back down on the bed, his eyes still furiously glued to the door.

[i:ce0090da77]"Just Anthony...he's a real asshole. No one around here really likes him."[/i:ce0090da77] he grumbled. Slowly his anger subsided, and was replaced once more by raging hormones. Soon their naked bodies were writhing and grinding in the open air of barracks.

Their was a whistle like a jet of concentrated air and then a deafening boom. Bright flashes of fire and a sea of dust shot forth from the far wall of the room, covering them like fog. The blast threw Sidney from the bed, and he vaguely recognized the cold touch of linoleum on his bare posterior as he slid across the floor.

When the room had stopped it's mad spinning, and all that remained was a strong feeling of nauseia, Syndey sat up slowly, rubbing now blood covered eyes. Through the still thick air of dust, he could see that where once stood a wall, was now a gaping hole, revealing the night sky. Rubble was flung across the barracks interior, small bursts of flame still flickering on some of the larger pieces.

The ringing in his ears, caused by a newly acquired pair of ruptured ear drums, prevented him from hearing the continuous spurts of gunfire in the courtyard beyond. On the bed, a still nude Britney screamed wildly at him, pointing frantically towards the gaping hole. What had happened?

Syndney stood shakily, and managed a few meager steps before collapsing on the bed. Peering into the now settling dust, several figures began to emerge. There were four of them. Two carried the distinct outlines of assault rifles and stood on the outsides of the group. One was clearly female, the other a slender male. The male issued orders to the pair carrying assault rifles, to which the duo dutifully went about scowering the room. He then turned his attention to the pair of nudes on the bed.

Sydney watched as he and the female approached them. The dirt in the courtyard stirred and then jolted into the air in a frenzied wild dance, and distantly he could hear the thump thump thump of helicoptor blades even over the ringing. The coptor landed in the center of the whirling dust, it's head lamp shining into the barracks and casting a nearly blinding light over their visitors.

They both wore all black, nearly identical outfits other than the male wore a long overcoat. On his waist, the long handle of a katana protruded ominously. He spoke to the female, who then looked directly at Syndey and began to speak. Sydney was not sure that even had he had the ability to hear any longer, would he have the nerve to reply. The duo immediately turned their gaze on Britney, who was apparently shrieking at the top of her lungs.

The sword left the sheath and swung in a deadly silver arch. Britney's head rolled from her shoulders and tumbled across the floor. Blood began to flow like a fountain from the cleanly cleaved neck, and soaked into the woolen sheets of the bed. Still dazed, Syndey looked up at the attacker. The sword had already been returned to it's place in it's sheath, and the pair was staring expectantly at him.

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

The naked soldier stared dumbly for a moment at them, saying nothing. His face was a filthy mixture of dirt and blood now, but Gabriel could see intelligent eyes underneath.

[i:ce0090da77]"Ask him again."[/i:ce0090da77] he said to Cyrilynn. The Tzimisce repeated her question in Greek pertaining to the location of the manor's owner, but again, no reply. Disgusted, Gabriel and Cyrilynn walked from the room into the now dimly lit hallway. Behind them, gunfire exploded as the two Ventrue soldiers took the life from the naked man's body.

((more to come!

'We are grateful and we will not forget what you are about to do for us. My brotherhood is in your debt.' Hassan thankfully answered.

Mundug didn't aknowledge his thanks, fearing that soon enough he would regret his decision.

'No doubt you will want to rest now. You have had a long and uncomfortable journey. We shall discuss the details of the task at hand tomorrow night. I have given order to prepare a place to rest for you, I will have Anwar show it to you.'

'No need, my brother, I will personally see our guest to his quarters.', Salah interjected.

'Very well, if it pleases our guest.', Hassan answered, sensing the tension that existed between the both of them.

'Fine.', Mundug mumbled.

Once outside the tent, walking through the encampement, Salah took the initiative.

'Mundug, I would like to talk to you about what happened the last time we met, if you have a moment.'

Mundug abruptly stopped and faced the assamite.

'There is nothing more to talk about, everything was said back in Tunisia and if I remember well, it was I who won that arguement. Now where is my place of rest, please.'

'It's not far anymore.' Salah replied and both of them picked up their pace again.

'You know, you left me in a pretty bad shape over there in the fortress in Bizerte.

Mundug tried to ignore him and picked up the pace, but Salah continued, now slightly walking behind the gangrel.

'Took me a few months before that wound was fully healed...but you had taken a few bad hits too, I remember. Yes, I still have that scimitar if you were wondering, a magnnificent weapon. Oh, but here we are, your quarters for the duration of your stay in our camp. The council tomorrow starts at nine. I will have Faisal send for you. Have a good rest now, it was good seeing you again.'

...

Over the next several nights, Eveshka and Julius made their way steadily westward through the hills and low mountains. Each step brought them farther along a path Julius had followed 10,000 years before. Scenes that had turned to memory that had turned to nearly forgotten whispers on the wind reawakened themselves in Julius. At times he cried in agony, other times he seemed elated. He was re-experiencing his past life. This experience was a terrible roller coaster. Most of the time he seemed to be caught in a maelstrom of nightmares. All Eveshka could do was hold him when he broke down. For hours she would rock him back and forth trying to console him. Even Gary, the camel, had taken a more lenient approach towards Julius.

After nearly a week of traveling across what was known as the Holy Land his memories brought him to the south eastern corner of Turkey. They stood on the shores of Antioch looking out over the eastern Mediterreanean Sea.

"This is it?" asked Eve.

"Not quite," answered Julius. "The hill sloped down further to a stream bed. Lamech was a little hamlet just over there." He pointed to an imaginary spot beneath the waves. "I recall this notch." He pointed off to the left to a mound of rocks jutting from the sea. "That was where I think I finally withered to dust."

Eveshka gently placed her hand in his and brought it to her lips to kiss it. "Baby," she whispered. After several silent minutes Julius spoke again.

"We're about 1/4 of a mile from Lamech. Her palace, if you want to call it that, was on slightly higher ground." He lapsed into silence again. "Let's get a room, babe." Eve nodded and the two went off to find the most non descript lodgings possible.

Julius and Eveshka lay next to each other on the bed. In between them was one of the musty old tomes they had taken from the monastery in Pskov.

"It looks like the Tremere and the Tzimisce were both trying to get ahold of Antioch during the First Crusade," said Julius. "I can't figure out which clan backed which faction however."

"Who controlled Antioch then?" asked Eveshka. "The Thothists?"

"It doesn't say," said Julius. "They didn't know who controlled the place, just that it was not them."

"I don't understand," said Eve. "That just seems to be so uncharacteristic of Cainite politics. I mean, they seemed to know EVERYTHING about every OTHER place. Why not Antioch?"

"God only knows, Love."

He flipped a few more pages. "Here it says that a Tremere regent simply called 'Cardinal' backed Bohemond who finally took the place in 1098. But they never found the resting place of the Vitae."

"So then it is still here?" asked Eve.

"Presumably, yes."

Eveshka looked on as he leafed through the book. Her eyes rested on drawings and maps. She felt rather useless. The language was incomprehensible to her. "Want a drink?" asked Eve.

"Tea would be nice," said Julius. Eve got up and left the room.

Julius continued to read. It seemed that in 1103 the Danishmend emir captured Bohemond and ransomed him back to the Tremere. Thus the Tremere hold on Antioch was lost, even though the Europeans maintained possession of the city. Then came a slew of regents as Antioch changed hands many times. The Tzimisce somehow ousted the Thothist overlords and began their search for the Vitae. The Tzimisce held the city for nearly one hundred years. It was not until Saladin....

"I'll be damned," muttered Julius at reading the name Saladin.

... had ripped through the Levant in 1187 that the Tzimisce were again ousted by the Thothists. The Tzimisce picked up and went north into Russia where they stayed until the Tremere backed Swedish army came to get them.