“My Lord! My Lord! The wall has broken! Our enemy flee! You have won!” The young retainer came running, shouting into his masters Keep. A look of triumph and pride on his mud-stained face. His leathered feet padded down the steps to his master’s private chambers, he had lain sleeping growing in strength for his final battle.

“Lord Taarnish?” Suddenly wary the youthful attendant paused before knocking on the thick, oaken door that banned the threshold, beyond which his master lay.

“O srèkan fant prosto!. Zdaj povej mi ðe , kakðen sporoèilo ali je to vi prebuditi se mi s?”¹

“Aye Lord, I bring great news of your victory.”

He pushed the solid door open slowly, his eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch black beyond, only broken by the scintilla of moonlight that crept through the archery hole that served as a window. As he stepped into the room the figure of his master appeared. Seated on a vast hardwood chair the form of his master stirred almost unseen, his eyes now turning to face his serf, flaring vermilion in the blackness.

“Excellent, retrieve my horse and arms. We will ride them down tonight, ready my men.”

The serf ran out as his master rose to his booted feet. He heard the leathered thud of his masters footsteps echo behind him as he headed to the armoury, sending the stablehand out to retrieve Polter his masters steed. Heading swiftly back to his masters chamber he ran, hands laden with platemail and studded leather, a sword and bucklered gauntlet swinging from his side. He rose his hand, straining to knock his arrival on the door before again his master pulled the door open.

“Help me change boy. Then leave me.”

Nodding he began strapping first the studded leather then the plates of mail onto his cold masters frame. Finally sheathing and fastening his sword and gauntlet to his waist. Bowing he bade farewell to his master then left to discover the progress of the stablehand.
Tanos strode purposefully up to the ramparts that crowned his keep, the weight of his armour barely registering on his powerful frame. He let out a long sigh of satisfaction as he gazed out across the landscape before him, the Wallachian moon glaring down bitterly. His mane of death-bleached hair flowing in the night wind, lit by the fires below and the glow of his scarlet eyes. Sniffing the air he stepped back, his muscular, lean back flexing under the armour. As he passed the threshold to his keep he lifted his helmet, a cruel barbed steel cap, thickened over his forehead for butting.

As the clouds consumed the light of moonrise he rode out accompanied by seven of his ghoulised warriors. His horse, boosted by his own blood, easily covered the distance between his Keep and the front-line. Trotting in front of his troops he smiled darkly, his armour and faceplate glinting in the darkness, firelight reflecting in the shine granting the metal a bloody hue.

“You have proven exceptional! Now is the time for us to crush our enemy! Let noone stand in our way!”

At that he whirled his horse around, raising his sword he led his men in a final charge against the tattered, broken remains of the Turkish horde.


Dawn fast approached, bodies from both sides littered the lightening scene. Mud painted with crimson stained the hooves and boots of his men. As the arrows of sunlight reached the ramparts of his Keep he retreated below to his chambers. The bloodstains repeated on his pale, weathered flesh and brutal armoury. Lowering his now naked, battered body into his coffin he settled into the collected earth of his homelands to the east. He slept then, his undead mind plagued with dreams of the past and aspirations for the future.

It was the year of their lord 1410. Tanos Scirenczy, being the son of a peasant and serf to the Voevod Mircea the Old, was raised in total subservience to the noble Lords superiority. His father served as stablehand, his mother serving as chambermaid within the obsidian walls of his “benefactors” Keep. Tanos being too young, and therefore of no present use to the Voevod was given free rein on the grounds and forests the Lord held. His father’s people, the Szgany of Romania were famous for their storytelling and archaic beliefs. Tanos as a result was no exception, having been told of ancient spirits and myths that used to, and do still in some places, wander the land. It was on one such morning of play that he found it.

Hidden by bracken and collapsed hillside the monolith stood untouched, the grey rock it rose from dusted with lichen and centuries of burial staining. Unafraid and equipped with the inquisitive mind of an eight-year-old, Tanos brushed aside the denser clumps of growth. The revealing of ancient markings proving meaningless to the illiterate mind that read them. He capered and ran around the grey sentinel chasing dragonflies and laughing at the wind. It was then he saw it.

Near the rear of the rock a hollow shadowed in the undergrowth, partly hidden by dead branches and fallen leaves. He trotted over, peering into the blackness. The soil framing the darkness suddenly moved sending him spiralling into hell.

He awoke what seemed like hours later, sunlight filtered through reducing the pitch black to a grey haze. He pulled himself to his feet looking around as his eyes adjusted, irises widening to absorb as much light as the hole above would provide. As he began to identify the dark, shadowy shapes around him he saw the figure. Seated in the corner on a vast throne of tree root, bone and rock the figure sat motionless. His mind unable to determine if it had once been living or was simply a memorial to a fallen Lord.

The figure was roughly but not entirely anthropoid. Resembling a heavily carapaced simian. Where it’s arms reached past the base of the throne they terminated in long, bone coloured talons, curling under like the arms of a tree sloth. The body was barrel chested, resting on folded legs that tucked under and behind the arms. The head had disappeared into the neck and chest, being nothing more than a sequence of baleful eyes and a razored, lamprey mouth. He stood awestruck, staring at the bizarre horrifying visage that seemed to watch from it’s pedestal. A soft, cooing voice rose from the darkness, thick with the old tongue.

“Priti sklepnik otrok , nikar ne strah.”

He looked around trying to locate the speaker, seeing none.
“’Tis I that calleth. Come closer, closer. Ah that’s better . Now I can look upon you with my weary eyes.”

Tanos suddenly became aware, the bony statue spoke again, though it’s sucker mouth moved not. Stepping closer he saw the figure tremble, a white, cancerous liquiescent arm melted free from the bony shell. Tapping at the chamber floor as though beckoning him closer. He walked tentatively towards the spot the tendril marked. Once there the voice whispered again.

“Ah dear Tanos. Long have I waited for you. I know the dreams you have in your straw bed, dreams of riches, of freedom.”

Hearing his own name being uttered by this strange, etheric voice. Seemingly enthralled he staggered, not noticing the tendril come forward again, snaking its way from (behind?) the shelled form. It whispered on, seducing the young boy with lies of glory and power before it struck.

The tendril, suddenly barbed, lashed out, striking and latching onto his leg. The sensation numbed by shock as it began to feed on his very lifeblood. The feeding was minimal, serving only as a refreshment. Then the process was reversed as the blood of the tendril itself was pumped back into him. His mind clouded as the narcotic-like blood mirrored the cooing “voice”.

“It is fortunate that you stumbled into my lair. You will bring me food, you will aid in my revival from my shell. And in return you will be rewarded in times to come. Now go child, return to your straw mat. But tomorrow you must bring me fresh blood. Fowl perhaps.”

Tanos’ head had remained fuzzy and fogged until he lay down in his parents chambers. The straw mattress cushioning him as he fell into sleep.

By dawn the next day he headed back to the lair, his mind not his own as he caught the waterfowl and tossed it bound into the lair hole. Seconds later the bird shrieked then fell silent as the “creature” attacked and drained the blood. The next day he had managed to trap a small deer. The bloodlust growing in his malleable mind like a black, viscous egg. This process continued for weeks, and then the true horror began. Tanos now in full thrall to his vampiric master pretended to play with the daughter of Mircea’s man at arms. Leading her to the lair he pushed her in, a blank emotionless expression on his face as the vampire below drained and absorbed her. The vampire beckoned him down. He climbed down, supported by a column of flesh erupting from the floor below, lowering him down gently. He felt the vampire’s mind creeping in his own, felt it’s pleasure filling his thoughts as he looked upon the dried, desiccated, torn body of the girl. Turning he looked at the “statue” gasping as his eyes fell upon the cracked, broken shell. Widening further as the vampire stepped from the shadows behind him, now clothed in tarnished bronze plate. Standing over six feet in height the vampire moved closer, a hellish perfection of form. Skin ice pale, eyes crimson ringed with almond shaped eyelids, the body lean, muscular and perfectly symmetrical. Cat-like, elfin it spoke.

“I am Miklos Cel Rau. You have done well dear boy. As I said, I will reward you in time to come. You have freed me from my torpor and so I will free you from yours.”

Over the next ten years Tanos grew strong. As strong as he became physically he increased even greater mentally. Yet beyond both his brutal, dark side grew strongest. He had long since become a foot soldier for Alexandru 1 Aldea by his twentieth year. Mircea’s reign having ended. Now powerfully, though not bulkily, built. Standing at six feet, his hair ice blonde, mirrored by his cold blue eyes. He had already proven his ferocity in battle, cleaving the heads from any that opposed him, it seemed the vampire’s influence had proven permanent. He began to rise through the ranks, becoming the leader of a battalion of footsoldiers, then becoming Warmaster to Alexandru’s mounted cavalry. It was on the winter night of 1423 that his old master rewarded him.

Tanos stood guard on the ramparts to his Lords Keep, watching the troops below circling the black stone walls. He turned to return to the stone halls within when the vampire stepped up behind him. He smiled darkly, awaiting his long due reward.

“So you return vampire? I trust you come with my reward?”

Miklos smiled, his red wet mouth in stark contrast to his elfin, ovoid face.
“Ah but of course dear boy. After all I am of noblest blood. Your full reward will come yet, but for now…”

The next two seconds blurred. Miklos shot forward, his flesh protoplasmic, melting and enfolding Tanos in a skin snare. Holding him to his chest in a blasphemous embrace. Miklos’ flesh opened leaking precious blood into Tanos waiting maw. Tanos fell limp as the sudden flash of strength flooded through him. The copper tinted taste made him retch, tilting forward to rid himself of the vampire vitae. Miklos snarled, his flesh smothering his mouth holding the blood within as Tanos fell to the rooftop floor. Miklos pulled him to his feet, smiling as Tanos’ body began to welcome the power the gift of blood gave.

Now a ghoul to Miklos, Tanos had strength beyond that of a normal man, his body could heal grievous injury as long as Miklos fed him. However such rewards have prices, and the cost was simple. From that night onwards Tanos must help his vampiric master grow in political power eventually to overthrow the human Voevod Alexandru. Tanos grew ever more powerful. His savagery in combat and cruelty in torture only bested by Miklos’ future clansman Draculea. As his mortal power grew and his mortal master’s enemies fell his true Lord, Miklos, grew stronger. Working behind the scenes of power, weakening those he had no use for, and strengthening those that would prove useful in the future. By 1437 Miklos had manipulated the Warlord Vlad Dracul, father of the future Draculea, into killing and thus replacing Alexandru. In return Miklos gained a semblance of power over the lands, a semblance that became absolute, albeit temporarily, when Dracul’s son Draculea was embraced into the Tzimisce clan. Miklos continued his manipulation of the mortal lineage’s driving Dracul into direct conflict with Hungary’s ruling classes. As a result Dracul lost his title, only to return, at Miklos bequest, to power a year later. He sent his two sons, one of which being Draculea, to Turkey to prove his loyalty where they were kept hostage for four years. Dracul and Mircea were assassinated in 1447, some say at the request of the Hungarian General Janos Hunyandi. Joining the Order of the Dragon, Dracul was sworn to obey the wishes of Hungary when they declared war on the Turks. The battles that followed brought Tanos even greater power. Draculea returned with an army, now embraced into the clan and at the age of seventeen he seized power, taking the Wallachian throne. Tanos was now a powerful Boyar in his own right. Having led countless successful attacks on the enemies of his Vampire Lord. His cruel streak however tinted as was his masters, with a strong sense of nobility. Miklos then at last fulfilled his promise, embracing the now weathered Tanos, bringing him into the noble lineage of the Tzimisce.

In 1462, Tanos led part of Dracula’s army against the Turks. However being outnumbered three to one the Wallachian force was driven back coming to ground in the capital Tirgoviste. However not to be outdone by the Turk invaders, Dracula poisoned and destroyed villages removing any option for the Turks to set up camps. He also created a sight since recorded in history as “the forest of the impaled” by impaling 20,000 Turk prisoners as a warning. And although the Turk Sultan withdrew, Dracula’s own brother Radu who had pledged allegiance to the Sultan drove on. Attacking the Impaler’s castle and terrifying his wife into suicide, throwing herself from the battlements.

Although Dracula escaped and eventually retook the throne, he was eventually slain in 1474. Tanos, weary of being a serf withdrew to his Keep, hiding within it’s obsidian walls throughout the subsequent Turk 150 year occupation.

In the years to come Wallachia became united in defiance of the Ottoman Empire, leading to an ongoing war that lasted almost 200 years. Tanos’ financial status grew, allowing him to fund the resistance against the Ottoman, and fuel his reputation, or publicly his descendants, reputation as an eccentric nobleman. As Russia and Austria reclaimed the lands from the Ottoman, Tanos began to master his disciplines. Soon becoming a master at fleshcrafting, as well as creating bigger and better warriors.

The renaissance criss-crossed the globe, art and literature became ever widespread and well received. Tanos, using fleshcrafting, posed as grandsons, nephews and distant relations ensuring his title throughout the ages.


The moon shone bleakly as ever, glinting in silvered darts over the water’s surface as the great ship came into the bay. The dockworkers scrambled, dragging heavy ropes into position. He watched from the deck, his vermilion gaze moist from the seawater sting as his thoughts returned to the present. Shouldering the heavy coat he hid under he headed towards the cargo hold, checking everything was in order before returning to the ship’s deck, ready to disembark as the great engine purred to a stop. The cane in his hand tapping the walkway as he left the ship, climbing into a waiting limousine. His belongings that hadn’t been sent in advance following behind in several container vans. The journey by car seemed positively instantaneous in comparison to the long voyage. As the driver wheeled past the city signs he smiled darkly against the neon and glittering glass, heading out into the old districts and further into the suburbs circling the sprawl.

The building was as old as could be hoped, sprawling like a stone replica of his Keep, a long driveway terminating with the great marble steps that led to the grand doors. Stepping from the car he walked stiffly, regally into his new home, haughtily studying the interior before heading hellward to the wine cellar. A series of tunnel linked chambers peppered the rock below the manor. His voice rasping, the barest slavonic accent permeating through his voice.

“Ah, this will do nicely. A little modification and expansion and they will be perfect for my vats. Randall? Arrange for the work to begin immediately. I wish to retire for the evening. Please see to your chambers yourself. We shall speak tonight. Good eve to you dear Randall, let us hope this “Cascadia” will prove fruitful in our studies.”

At that he retired to the predetermined chamber, the heavy curtains and latticed window closed to block the suns rays.



¹“Ah come in dear boy! Tell me again, what news it is that wakes me?”
² “Come closer child, do not fear.”

:grin: :grin: :grin:

((woohoooooo go tanos!!!!!!!!!!!!! that rocks.....:smile::):)

((now that's some DAMN fine writing...:smile:

Kathy was in her haven trying to sort out the arrangments for her next *private* party.
As she flicked through the portfolio of girls that she had available for the party, her mind kept drifting back to Gabriel, the statues that he had bought her stood either side of the couch, the candlelight casting their shadows on the heavily polished wooden floor.
Her fingers played idly with the chain that hung around her neck.
Kathy put the file down and closed her eyes, wanting to call him but knowing that he had business to attend to, as did she.
"Mistress?" fabian said..
"Connor is on the phone shall I tell him you dont want to be disturbed?"
Fabian smiled at Kathy, he had never seen his mistress so smitten with anyone else before.
Kathys eyes opened.
"no you better not Fabian...I dont think that will please him" kathy lifted her head from the back of the sofa as Fabian brought the phone across to her.
"wise decision my love , you know I would be dipleased if you wasn't available" said connor,his rich deep toned voice drifting down the phone line.
Kathy laughed and curled her legs beneath her as they chatted.

"anyway kathy I rung for another reason really, a kindred by the name of Tanos Scirenczy is about to arrive in Cascadia, hes a very old well respected vampire from Slovenia, I know he set off from paris a day ago to sail to America, I dont know where hes going to be living though, but I imagine with your contacts you will be able to find out"
Kathy smiled" yes of course I can, any particular reason you have told me this though?"
"hes powerful kathy and not to be crossed, and I know what you can be like sometimes although you seem to have settled down well in cascadia from what I have heard, How is Gabriel?"
kathy smiled widely " hes fine..no hes better than fine hes great"


:::::::::::::::::::::::

Kathy pushed the heavy oak door open slowly, slipping the skeleton key back into her pocket.
Her nose wrinkled as it caught the musty smell of the mansion,it had been empty for many months now, noone seemed to want to buy it, or so her contact at the estate agents had told her.
It was situated just out of the town, on the edge of the countryside.
AS kathy wandered the corridors she wondered what this tanos was like, connor had given her his name nothing else.
Pushing a door open she looked down the stone stair case. pulling a torch from her bag she walked down carefully, the stairs slippy with moss and the walls dripped with damp.
As she reached the bottom step, her feet slipped away from underneath her, and she landed with a thud on the damp floor.
Cursing she got up and looked at the mess she had made of her clothes

_________________
"True art is selfish and perverse -- it will not submit to the mold of flattery."
-- Ludwig Van Beethoven

[ This Message was edited by: Kathy Belvadere on 2002-01-08 17:23 ]

Kathy walked back up the stairs and looked in the other rooms, many had packing cases in them, and fresh footprints in the dust told her that they had been recently brought there.
Only one room had furniture in it, a heavy oak desk stood in the centre of it.
"his office it must be " kathy said her soft voice echoing around the room.
Kathy took the rose out of her bag and placed it on the desk, leaving no note she left the mansion,carefully locking the door behind her.


...................................
((few days later))

Kathy received the call that the liner from france had docked, grabbing her keys she rushed to her porsche, curious to see who this Tanos was.
As the limosine drew up to the iron gates, the slowly opened.
kathy sat on the bonnet of her car and watched as it pulled in and the gates shut with a dull thud.
"welcome to Cascaida Tanos...."

Tanos stirred slowly into action. Clotted bloodsalts coating the borders between eye and eyelid as he rose from his slumber. Winter brought many advantages to the vampire, one of which being the early nightfall. He climbed from his coffin fully refreshed after his journey to Cascadia, donning a velveted robe he paced to the door of his chamber. A combination of disciplines and mental acuity had Randall appear in the hallway waiting for his masters first order of the night, and building the confidence to inform him of the apparent break-in before they had arrived. On Tanos’s oaken desk lay a single red rose, scuffled footprints leading down into then out of the wine cellar the only other traces of an intruder. He cleared his throat then spoke. The ember-like glow of his masters eyes testament to his weariness and growing impatience.

“Lord. It appears the Keep was broken into before we got here. Nothing was taken, but this was found lying on your desk.”

He held the rose up, his fingers securing it just tightly enough for Tanos to pluck it if he chose to. At the revelation Tanos’s eyes flared scarlet, the glow made Randall’s blood chill as his ancient master growled.

“My walls violated? This is unacceptable! Where was my security? Damn it Randall!”

Tanos crushed the rose, the thorns drawing blood from his leaden fist. He dropped the now ragged, ruined bloom to the floor and turned his attention back to Randall.

“I want the Keep secured, and I want to deal with the Security guards’ folly personally. Send the manager to my office in one hour!”

“Yes my Lord, by your command.”

Randall quickly left the increasingly wrathful air his master occupied, almost missing steps on his way to begin reparations. He thought blackly. Things are going to change around here, I fear Security will be “tight”. The thought filled him with a knowing dread as he summoned the housekeepers.


Tanos disrobed, stepping slowly into the pool that served as a bath in his chamber. The pool itself was precisely six feet of iced water, three feet in width and a series of marble crags or steps descended into the depths. His hair fanned out over the waters surface as his head disappeared below. The chill would kill to the very core of the living, but it merely made him sigh bubbles to the surface. Minutes later he rose, drying himself, scenting himself then dressing in a dark blue suit, waistcoated and tying a matching tie under the wide collared shirt. Pulling his hair back brutally into a pony tail he walked to his office. The clip of his perfectly polished shoes glinting in the light of the candles that lit the upper halls. He sat at his desk, toying with the desks accessories. The door to his office was rapped, prompting him to beckon the Security manager in.

“You sent for me Lord?”

“Did I? Oh yes I did. Yes and if I summoned you I must have reason I suppose, no?”

The manager frowned.

“Lord? Is something amiss?”

“Amiss? Amiss!!? My Keep is violated and you ask me if somethings amiss??”

Tanos rose from his seat, his face darkening as his anger grew.

“Have you nothing to say in your defence? My home is invaded and you stand there dumb!?”

“No Lord, I mean yes Lord...I mean...”

“Come!”

Tanos walked to the door, pulling it open angrily, a leprous shimmer of vampiric flesh running over his face as he walked out. Turning to the stairs he led the Manager to the wine cellar. He closed the doors as the Manager followed, before eventually coming to a stop in a vat room.

“Here! Look here!”

The Manager blindly obeyed, gazing into the growing tank of one of Tanos’s warriors. Somewhere in the soup of shit, piss, semen and flesh an embryonic warrior grew, boosted by Tanos’ own blood the beast would grow quickly. The growth following a telepathic design laid down in the creatures bones.

“See it? See how perfect, how unfailing it is? How simple it’s desires? Do you wish to offer it a kiss?”

He grabbed the Manager, lifting him so his face slopped into the plasm. The screams echoed throughout the cellar as the foetal beast swam to the surface, claiming the face of the Manager for it’s eating.

“You will not fail me again. The next time you do I’ll grind you to a paste to season my pets food! The wounds will be healed, this time. Just be glad I pushed you in head first.”

Tanos sneered darkly, letting the Manager fall to the floor shrieking in agony as his raw, wet face stung in the air. He scrambled against a wall sobbing, the tears like acid on the open flesh. The vampire left him there to consider his fortune, walking back to the main hall.

:eek:

Cascadian reds, or so they were known locally, sprawled from their perches on the barren trees at the sound of the roaring engine. Far below the canopy, on a winding backroad, Gabriel's Lambrogini Diable handled the turns with stunning accuracy and poise.
Gabriel sat behind the wheel deep in thought, his hands and feet rythmatically changing the gears. His night had been long and strenuous, full of many business obligations. Now finally, sunrise a mere hour away, he was able to enjoy himself...bask in the fruits of his labors so to speak.
The Italian Sportscar tore around the tight bend, the trees standing sentinal on either side of the road. Ahead, a long barren expane of road disappeared into the horizon. The broad beams of light thrown out by the headlights were nearly useless in the dense early morning fog, which hung like an indian blanket over the winding roads.
Ahead there was a break in the treeline, a large metal gate looming in clearing. Gabriel slowed the car down, dropping it gradually into first gear. Carefully he pulled off onto the side of the road near the gate, the gravel crunching and shifting beneath his tires.
The doors rose horizontally and Gabriel stepped out, stretching his dead muscles as he did so. He carefully smoothed the wrinkles from his classic grey three piece suit, the vest riding up a bit. He wore a pair of dark grey slacks, the jacket and vest only a slightly lighter shade. A white shirt and solid black tie poked out from beneath the vest.
Gabriel smoothed back his blonde hair and approached the gate, peering through the bars at the house beyond.
Up a long circular drive the house sat, standing defiantly among the trees. It was really more fortress like than most houses, very similar to Gabriel's own Keep. His eyes scanned the grounds for signs of life but found only a abandoned automobile.
From somewhere inside the Keep a scream cried out, trailing into the thick air and eventually fading out. Kathy had mentioned something about a Tzimisce purchasing a house nearby...it would certainly explain the screams. Some big shot from Europe, claiming to be related to Draculea or something along those lines. Gabriel smirked slightly at the thought...and he was related to Lestat.
The main door to the Keep opened, a servant tenderly stepping outside and scurrying towards the car. Gabriel whistled loudly and motioned for the attendant to come over...

((jumpin in

Kathy paced up and down in her haven as her ghouls searched it high and low.
When she had woken up earlier she had realised that she had lost the bracelet that her sire had given her, when she was embraced.
"we cant find it mistress" said tobias as he shrugged his shoulders.
"where did you go last night maybe you left it there.." he said hopefully , tired of searching her haven.
" I went to see if someone....." as she spoke she realised where the bracelet maybe.
Tobias looked at her..."you didnt lose it there did you..I asked you to let me go instead of you, connor did warn you about him Mistress"

"yes..yes I know Tobias, Im going to have to go back and pray that I can get in again, im sure hes not as bad as his reputation is" kathy smiled falsely.

Kathy killed the engine on her porsche and let it slowly come to a stop in the trees just to the side of the house.
"no point announcing my arrival"she muttered to herself as she pulled the hood on the sweatshirt over her head.
she had decided to dress ready to run so gone where the strappy shoes and flowing dresses, in there place where sweat pants and a sweatshirt and running shoes.
As she rounded the corner she stopped in her tracks..Gabriels car...god now what she thought.
as she peered around the corner she saw him stood at the gates and heard him whistling.
She went to the side of the house and using a tree for support she scrambled over the wall, cursing herself for her stupidness but she must get the bracelet back.
She landed on the floor lightly and she crouched down ,watching the house, candles flickered in windows casting eerie shadows on the ground.
Relieved that there was noone around she ran to the house, standing in the shadows.
"what am I doing " she said to herself "sneaking around like a thief"
brushing herself down she walked to the front door and rapped on it sharply.

Randall stepped outside, both to chill the bile from reaching his throat and to check the gates and car were secure. He had heard the Security Manager Peter’s shrieks and although he knew the injuries would be gone by dawn, the sounds struck him as harshly as a slap to his face. He inhaled through gritted teeth, the cold air hissing as he turned to return to the Manor.

As he turned he heard a soft whistling, he glanced towards the gate, seeing a well dressed blonde man looking through the wrought iron, portcullis-like gates. The sight of the cliched sport’s car behind the blonde made him grin slightly. Shrugging inwardly he walked over.

“Can I help you sir?”

The stranger smiled.

“Yes I believe you can. I’m to understand that a Tanos Scirenczy resides here? Would that be correct? I wish to meet with him, welcome him to this fine country.”

“Lord Scirenczy is unavoidably detained. If I can take a message? Mr uhhh?....”

The stranger looked rebuffed, irritated.

“My name is Mr O’Brien. Mr Gabriel O’Brien. And I’m sure “Lord” Scirenczy will meet me. Now.”

Randall frowned. He was unused to people speaking of his master in such arrogant terms. Clearly angered by this “O’Brien’s” flippancy he turned answering softly.

“Wait here.”

Gabriel nodded, his patience wearing thin.

Randall disappeared into the grand entrance.

Moments later he returned, visibly shaken. Opening the gate with a remote he ushered Gabriel into the hall.

_________________
I stand watching. Your head fucked full of ugly, spittle sweet thoughts, and damp, forced sounds. You lie quivering, I can smell your pain, no taste your fear. Incomplete and straining under my touch. It is all you have now. You are mine for the taking.

[ This Message was edited by: Tanos on 2002-01-09 19:35 ]

Bill breathed the cool air as he sat cleaning his hunting knife on his boot, the gutted body next to him on the grass. Slotting his knife away into his calf-sheath and pulling his jeans back over the top of it, he looked over at the corpse. The man lay on his back, steam rising from the gaping hole where his stomach had been, his intestines pulled up tightly and tied to the mangy ponytail of pink hair behind his head. In it's rigor mortis grip, it held a note written in the man's own blood...Bill smirked coldly as he lifted the body.

He headed towards the alleys in the worst part of town, he walked right into the so called "property" of the latest tough-nut gang and threw the body down, knowing eyes watched him from the shadows. Rolling his eyes at their cowardice, he shouted out,

"This is just a warning! The next of you scum that try to break into my property will be worse! You can trust me on that!"

He turned slowly and walked out of the rundown warehouse, his hand on his gun, just in case. Outside, he began to hum a tune he had heard on the police radio, some copper's birthday...or death...he figured. As he walked back towards the distant grounds of Blenheim Castle, he thought about the limo he had seen the night before. Nodding to himself, he decided he would run a check on it, see who or what was up, if anything.

((great writing Tanos, you too Kathy, pity about Gabe's huh? lol j/k hehehe cool history for Tanos though :smile:

Gabriel's air of arrogance only rose as he noted the servant's woeful tone. Surely his master knew who he was dealing with, he thought as he stepped through the front door of the mansion. He was no fool however, years of business had taught him to keep his ego in check when dealing with certain types. Tzimisce was certainly one of them.
He took in the house as they made their way through it towards the masters study. Dark, dismal tones dominated the rooms. The inside of the house must've been shadowlike even on the brightest of days. Several midieval artifacts adjourned the walls as he walked by. Gabriel's natural love of history begged him to stop and look, but Gabriel could not.
He followed the servant quietly, passing through several large wooden doors. As they reached the final door, the servant stopped, turning around to face Gabriel.
"Just one moment sir," he said, his voiced trembling a bit, "I'll announce your arrival." Gabriel nodded and watched as the servant opened the door and disappeared into the dark chambers. A moment later the door opened and a man stepped out. It was not the servant though, the man's face was scorched, and was quickly developing a thin layer of mucus and pus to protect it.
The figure wept quietly and brushed past Gabriel, moving quickly out of sight. Strange...
The door opened once more and the servant ushered Gabriel in. The inside of the room was even more bizarre than the rest of the house. Everything was covered in tarps to avoid his perusing. A tall slender man, about Gabriel's build, stood in front of them. His clothes were impecable and Gabriel secretly admired his style.
His hair was pulled back tightly, as was Gabriel, only a few shades lighter. From beneath a smooth brow, two icey blue eyes peered out, obviously sizing Gabriel up as he was. Gabriel strode forward, brushing past the servant.
"Lord Tanos?" he started. "A pleasure. I am Gabriel O'Brien, Seneschal of Cascadia. Thank you for seeing my unannounced, I'm sure you're terribly busy with the unpacking and all..."

((well today's my g/f and i's 11 month, so i'm obligated to spend the day with her, but i'll try to post tonight :smile:

((in all honesty a post that long i normaly read the first few screens then zip to the end from boredom but damn Gail. i couldnt pull my eyes away.

You know you want to find a way to get me in on this fun. Gon on. do it for pineapply. PLEASEEEEE. lol ))