He ducked, ignoring the clatter as the candle holder slammed into the wall.

"For my own gain?"

"You think I did this out of some lust for money?"

"I was programmed. Maybe you can't understand that. But try it. I had nothing to gain from this. He [i:94d19fd125]was[/i:94d19fd125] my master. As was Gabriel. I was nothing but their new toy. But when I betrayed you, when I was left to die in Rome, something changed. I became aware.

I didn't expect you to listen to me. I know I don't deserve your time. But I don't expect you to do this alone. You can either accept my help willingly or just tolerate it.

I know you're not a pushover! Damnit you survived this long! Reannag I am [i:94d19fd125]not[/i:94d19fd125] Ventrue. Not anymore. I couldn't give a damn about those bastards! But I do, I always did I think, give a damn about you!"

Alekz stood looking into her eyes.

"If I wanted you dead, if I wanted you to suffer why would I have come for you in Columbia? Why would I be here now?"

She looked at him her blue eyes shimmering as they stared at him
"and what exactly do you think Im doing back here? the place that fills my undead heart with nothing but sorrow and fear?"

Alek sighed " all I know is that the tremere clan have a great hold over you and that if I can help you at all and if you will let me ...well Im here for you , if you like look at it this way,its my way of trying to make amends, ive been through a lot Rea since we last met and perhaps Ive come to realise a few things"
he watched her as she walked to the window, the dress clinging to her slight body as she moved.

"you've been through a lot....dont you think I have over the past year to the extent that sometimes when im sleeping I wish that i would never wake"

"Sleeping....," He thought for a moment as she sighed.

"Yes I know how it feels to be asleep. But I can't explain it. All the time I spent here before. I felt nothing. I was dead, maybe I was moving around but I was cold inside.

I almost died in Rome. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. Call it faith or fate but I survived. And I realised what I had done, and what I had to do. That's why I tracked you down. And that's why I'm here now. I want to make amends for betraying you. You were the one person I should have been loyal to and I failed.

I want to make those bastards pay for what they did to me. I can see all those deaths, all those faces. And my memories are cold, there's no emotion. All except for those I have of you."

Alekz stepped towards her again. His body tensed as she glared at him.

Bill yelped as the splinter wedged itself deep within the soft bed of his flesh. As his hand jerked back instinctively, the rickedy window cover of his newstand slammed shut, it's cry echoing through the empty waterlogged streets of Cascadia's harbor district.

As the final clang reverberated off the brick walls of the low rent apartments, Bill shut the padlock on the stand and locked it tightly. Then, with only the gentle lull of the adjacent harbor to accompany him, he began the long treck home.

He had moved to Cascadia in the early sixties, an aspiring cub reporter, drawn to the excitement of an up and coming metropolis. He found it difficult to adjust to city life however, and soon found himself working the mailroom shift at one of the local newspapers. Over the years, as the bottom fell out of the city economy, he was reduced to peddling papers on the streets.

His heart still held Athenian dreams however, and the twinkle of that naive yokel never left his eyes. Bill Baxter was as young at 72 as he had been at 22. As he shuffled through rain drenched avenue's he began to whistle, the cheerful tune unable to help but sound eerie in the deserted night air.

Ahead, a liqour store beamed out in the darkness, it's neon advertisement calling to the lonely and beaten. Further still, on a lone stretch on asphalt, peering out from a blanket of ink black night, two solitary headlights peered back at him. They approached quickly before making a left turn and disappearing behind the liquor store, the fading roar of the engine indicating it's destination towards the warehouse district.

The old man continued to hobble, eventually passing the liquor store and turning a curious eye towards the route the car had taken. Several hundred yards away, a smooth, cat-like vehicle sat purring in front of what had once been the Mississippi Trading Company's dockside offices.

Bill knew full well what building it had been, and of the destruction it had suffered by unknown hands. Presently, he didn't quite know HOW he knew all this...but it seemed as if he had always known. Peering closer at the car, but without moving an inch nearer, the old man saw the driver's ghastly reflection in the rear view mirror.

He sat motionless in the car, his Adonis-like face statuesque and cold. He was a magnificent looking man, but lifeless, cold and empty. Chills quivered up Bill's spine as he looked upon him. Suddenly, he felt the desire to get to a phone....he had to call...but why? That man...yes that man. Several weeks prior, a man had purchased a late edition paper. He was a normal customer in all respects, a little on the pale side, but no different than anyone else. His sleek brown hair matted tightly to his skull with excess amounts of hair gel, shone brightly in the lamplight. Before he left, he had given Bill the strangest look, a sort of knowing smile. The exchange had lasted too long however.

[i:6bdeae6b37]get to a phone Bill, hurry, report to him...tell him about this man, this strange man who doesn't belong here.....[/i:6bdeae6b37]

How could Bill have known that the undead caller had worked for Gabriel, or that he was only one of many that had been secretely implanting suggestions in the minds of laborers and street urchins. Few knew that in the few nights following the horrendous attack on the city, Gabriel had created a network of spies, none of which knew they were even working for the undead kingpin.

Bill would deliver the message to Gabriel's subordinate, and within the hour Gabriel's phone rang.

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

Gabriel set the phone down in it's cradle gently, rapidly processing the new information over and over again in his mind. Perhaps an agent of Malachite's? Unlikely, why would his Sire return to the scene of the crime? Perhaps a local competitor? Preposterous, what cause would they have down at the wreckage site, especially in the early hours of the morning?

The description was most assuredly undead. It was slightly off kilter. Gabriel picked the phone up once more, carefully dialing the newly programmed cellular phone number. The brash voice on the other side mumbled.

"Martin, I need you to look into something for me."

((Ohhh you bugger!!!

((pullin double duty Frank? j/k, i have no problem playin Ports for the duration of the thread if you wish...?

((*Roughly scribed from last night's RPing. Some details were changed though.

She turned away from him again. Her eyes scanning the clouds, the city skyline jutting upwards defiantly. He moved to touch her shoulder, at first she tensed before she looked at him.

“What is it you want Alekz? Why did you really come back here? What do you want from me?”

Alekz smiled, though the feeling behind his lips’ curve wasn’t happiness. He was far from happy.

“I’m here because I lost the one person who was my friend. When I didn’t understand what friends were. And I want that friend back...

I know it won’t happen but that’s why I’m here. What do I want from you? Well truthfully forgiveness is just the beginning.”

“You want me to forgive you? Why should I believe you aren’t working for that bastard Sorenti?”

“You can’t.” He pulled open his shirt.

“You want to trust me? Then stake me, cut me. There’s nothing I can do, or is there?” Alekz looked at her, she’d swished over to the couch, her bare feet padding on the wooden floor. She sat before answering.

“There is something you [i:8841c8abe4]can[/i:8841c8abe4] do. My ring, I want my ring back. When Valek...,”

Her eyes widened in horror as memories of her torture at Valek’s hands filled her mind.

“Sorenti took it. It had fallen from my fingers. I don’t know if he still has it, or if he gave it to Gabriel.” Alekz’ face darkened at that name.

“If Gabriel has it it’ll be yours soon enough.” She noticed his expression become stormy.

“Gabriel was good to me. In the end.”

He growled in his throat. Another one he sneered. Does that bastard’s blonde hair fool every woman? He pushed the anger aside, looking at her.

“And if I get the ring? Then you will forgive me? If Gabriel has it won’t be a problem. my company installed his security systems. But he has a minder, a Gangrel, calls himself Porter?

Reannag’s eyes widened as she smiled.

“Porter is still here?”

Alekz frowned at her apparently pleased reaction.

“You know him? Can he be trusted? Would he help?”

Reannag paused, looking at the floor before meeting his eyes again.

“The Porter I knew would help. He was a good friend. He gave me his child..”

“He had a child? A Gangrel with a child?” His eyes looked confused.

“Long story.”

“Regardless. He is a concern. I think I’d best investigate a little. See what I can find out about him.”

“You bring me the child too and we’re even.” Reannag looked deadly serious.

Alekz grunted.

“The ring [i:8841c8abe4]and[/i:8841c8abe4] the child? Does it have a name?”
“Jacob. Jacob Rosychte. He was placed in care. If you bring them both, then I’ll forgive you.”

He groaned. “Give me all you can on his last known location and I’ll find him. I’ll even throw in legal custody papers. But the ring will take longer.”

“Very well, so it’s a deal?” She smiled then, for the first time since her arrival in the city.

“I’ll contact you when I have something.” He turned, heading towards the door. Dawn was rapidly painting the previously oppressive clouds.

“You could stay...if you wanted?” She stood in the doorway. Her eyes falling on the large bouquet of white lilies he’d left in the hallway.

“I want to. But there’s only one bed, and...”

Reannag smiled before nodding.

“I understand. Then goodnight to you Alekz. I’ll hear from you soon?”

“Yes miss. Reannag”, he corrected himself smiling. “As soon as I have anything worthwhile.”

“Not before then?” He enjoyed her smile, simply nodding in reply before walking out to his car. The treated glass of Vauntmere had been carried over into the windows of his car. Just in case. He revved the powerful engine and slowly wheeled out of the driveway. Looking back at the house, Reannag’s figure watching him from her window.

As he accelerated onto the highway he smiled. Dawn’s fires licking at his heels as he raced back to Vauntmere. And sanctuary.

Gabriel's body jerked upwards, his undead muscles filling themselves with Caine's power, and preparing for another night in an endless parade. Glancing out the window, the groggy Ventrue could see the purple hues of dusk carressing the landscape. He moved from his bed, approaching the phone and preparing to call Porter to awaken him and send him on his way.

As his hand touched the receiver, he heard the familiar empty clang of the front gate opening and closing far down the drive. Satin drapes billowed like storm clouds as Gabriel opened one of the large bay windows just in time to see the Gangrel's brawny figure disappear into a thicket of trees beyond.

A wry smile pursed the Ventrue's lips, such an efficient creature. Evening pleasantries aside, Caine's curse would not wait, and soon the beast began to uncoil in Gabriel's gut.

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

With each revitalizing wash of vitae, the long dead Irishman's muscles tensed from beneath the flowing silk robe. As the heels of his morning loafers tapped metrically down the marble corridor, Gabriel spun the wine glass of liquid in one hand and glanced over the morning stock report in the other.

The robe was a bit gaudy, that much he could not deny. It's long trail flowed behind him like a black river trailing in his wake. However, there was a regal air about it Gabriel felt, a throwback to the days of literal lords and kings. Slipping his hands into the robe pocket he produced a cell phone, and punched in several numbers before holding it to his ear.

"Yes, have him meet me in my study within the minute."

Gabriel replaced the cell phone and tossed the paper aside, leaving it for his attendents to clean up. Making his way quickly to his study, he took his seat on the far side of the room, amid tomes and books of ancient lore.

The door opened slowly, as if by accident. The figure that entered disproved that theory however.

"You wanted to see me..." it was more statement than question, and the tone was simply abominable. Gabriel ran his eyes over the Cainite, obviously unimpressed with what he saw. The figure was painfully thin, and unusually tall, his features for the most part obscured by the heavy blanket that wrapped around his body.

A pallid visage barely peeked out from behind a thick wrapping of scarves, the skin wrinkled and deformed. The eyes shimmered like water in the reflection of the freshly stoked fire. The scarves had been tediously positioned to even cover the top of his head, allowing as little to be seen of him as possible.

"Aye," Gabriel said, "I did indeed. Mr. Porter left only moments ago to run an errand for me. I want you to keep him company. He needn't know of your presence however."

The figure waited for further instructions, but receiving none, turned to leave.

"Drake," Gabriel called after him, "welcome to the team."

I, Estrella, hereby swear my everlasting loyalty to House and Clan Tremere and all its members. We share our lives, our goals, and our achievements. I shall obey those the House sees fit to name my superiors, and treat my inferiors with all the respect and care they earn for themselves.

I will not deprive nor attempt to deprive any member of House and Clan Tremere of his magical power. To do so would be to act against the strength of our House. I will not slay nor attempt to slay any member of the House and Clan except in self-defense, or when a magus has been ruled outlaw by a properly constituted tribunal. If a magus has been ruled an outlaw, I shall bend all efforts to bring such magus to justice.

I will abide by all decisions of the tribunals, and respectfully honor the wishes of the Inner Council of Seven and the wishes of my superiors. The tribunals shall be bound by the spirit of the Code of Tremere, as supplemented by the Peripheral Code and interpreted by a properly constituted body of magi. I have the right to appeal a decision to a higher tribunal, if they should agree to hear my case.

I will not endanger House and Clan Tremere through my actions. Nor will I interfere with the affairs of mundanes in any way that brings ruin upon my House and Clan. I will not, when dealing with devils, or others, in any way bring danger to the clan, nor will I disturb the faeries in any way that should cause them to take vengeance on the House and Clan. I also swear to uphold the values and goals of the Camarilla, and I will maintain the Masquerade. Insofar as these goals may conflict with my goals, I will not pursue my own ends in any way that would endanger the Masquerade. The strength of the House and Clan Tremere depends on the strength of the Masquerade.



I shall further the knowledge of the House and Clan and share with its members all that I find in my search for wisdom and power. No secrets are to be kept, or given, regarding the arts of magic, nor shall I keep secret the doings of others which might bring harm to the House and Clan.

I demand that, should I break this oath, I should be cast out of the House and Clan. If I am cast out, I ask my brothers to find and slay me that my life may not continue in degradation and infamy.

I recognize that the enemies of the House and Clan are my enemies, that the friends of the House and Clan are my friends, and that the allies of the House and Clan are my allies. Let us work as one and grow hale and strong.

I hereby swear this oath on 25th August the year 2002. Woe to they who try to tempt me to break this oath, and woe to me if I succumb to such temptation.

Her eyes flared as she reread the blood contract that she had signed, her master had thoughtfully sent her a copy , just to remind her what and who she belonged to.

((Ouch! Nasty :? Screw 'em though, bunch of robe wearing wand waving pansies ;)

her lips moved slowly as she recited the incantation that she had been taught. In one hand she held a small urn which she reached into and scattered the burned feathers over the silk sheets off her bed.

"Trems do have their uses " she muttered as she finished the ritual. It had become a habit with her, and she had found that unless she performed it before slumbering sleep was near impossible. It guaranteed that if she was to be endangered while she slept she would immediately wake up.

A scratching from the small box on the floor made he walk over to it slowly.
"ah little one ive not forgotten about you" her voice said softly as she slid the bolt and lifted the lid.
The small face looked at her and she smiled as she held out her hand and the small marmoset monkey hopped onto it. Its tiny hands scrambling up her arm.

Estrella smiled as he chattered away into her ear, eager for his food and for something to do,his small hands wrapping them selves into the tendrils of her hair.
"yes I know little one...come I have a treat for you"
She held the piece of melon out to him and he grabbed it eagerly his tiny mouth working away at it as the juice dripped down onto her shoulder.

"now before I go to rest...a task for you, I want you to go out into the city and seek out the whereabouts of a Mr Gabriel O' Brien and leave this for him"

She carefully folded a piece of cream vellum paper up and placed it into a pouch which she attached to the monkeys back.
No matter what some of the ventrue clan had done to her, Gabriel had always been very dear to her, their first meeting had been very curt and she had at times feared he wanted her dead, his jealousy over the time that she spent with sorenti had turned him against her somewhat.

The jealousy had turned to friendship though and it had been he who had given her sanctuary when she had needed it the most and that was the reason she was sending him a note.

"go now little one and be careful" the monkey nodded at her as he leapt from her shoulder onto the open window ledge, then disappeared out of her view.
He was a Homunculi, although he appeared to be an animal he was in fact a small extension of her, he was her eyes and ears effectively, reporting back to her in his strange little language which she had the ability to understand. His intellect was high and he could read and follow directions very well.

Sighing she walked to her bed and slipped inside the cool sheets.

As expected of a Ventrue, Gabriel’s summons and subsequent instruction had been brief and to the point.

Some unknown figure, possibly and likely Kindred judging by the heightened scent of anxiety he’d smelled on Gabriel, was spotted by one of the Seneschal’s drones near the ruins of the dockyard offices.

Porter had merely nodded, electing not to express his disinterest in chasing down someone who might be nobody. Instead he accepted the task, still dressed in a polo necked shirt and slacks, he pulled a padded jacket over his shoulders and summoned Archer, the driver assigned to him.

The drive to the docks made Porter even more irritable. He told Archer to wait as he examined the scene. His Gangrel senses probing on full as he read the oily tyre prints, scents of lavender and peaty soil breaking through the acrid stench of the long spilled truck oil. He returned to the car ordering Archer to drive out into the outskirts.

As the Mercedes accelerated into the wooded roads that circled the city, Porter pulled the sunroof open. He began to undress in the back seat as Archer drove nigh-oblivious to the actions of his passenger. Once fully disrobed, Porter tapped on the panel that masked the driver from him.

“Slow down once you reach this bend. Tell Mr. O’Brien I’ll speak with him when I have something. Take my clothes back with you Archer.”

Archer tried not to turn his head, nodding blindly as Porter hauled himself onto the roof of the car. He whipped his hair free of its ties and bunched his leg muscles, tensing to propel himself skyward. As the car entered the curve in the road, Archer slowed, feeling the massive strength of the Gangrel as the car “bounced” with his leap. Porter, now airborne, albeit temporarily grabbed the overhanging branches of a tree, hauling himself up into the sheltering leaves. His eyes flaring yellow-green as he sent out a request to the forest and the city behind him.

He painted a mental image of his quarry in the minds of all the animals that could receive it. Adding flavour to the image with the memory-scents of peat and lavender. Growling he threw himself skyward, adopting the form of a large grey owl as he began to soar over the canopy of pine and oak.

He began to circle the forest. Waiting for a reply to his query. Below him the countless thousands of minds, primitive, instinctual and sometimes even angular, chirped and rumbled from the forest fauna.

An hour passed and tired of flying he had taken a perch on the lightning scarred branches of a dead Ash. He had fed since leaving the confines of the car. Devouring a mouse, not out of necessity, but out of sheer bloodlust. He revelled in the meagre kill, revelling more however in the freedom he felt sitting in his “jungle”. As he watched and listened the reply he waited for arrived with a bark.

He recognised the “bark”. Amused that dog’s thoughts were just like their voices. He replied to the “calling” and reassured the canine messenger that it would be alright.

“I understand Isan. Stay where you are. I’m on my way.” He left the branches then, beating his wings as he willed his body to change yet again. Becoming more streamlined, faster as he flew in the direction of Isan’s cry.
Isan stood growling. A combination of anger, disgust and fear filling his canine throat as the figure dropped over the fence that encircled Isan’s master’s home. He’d heard Porter’s command and although programmed instinct and loyalty demanded he attack the intruder, he stayed firm. Simply watching as the figure took up position on the branch of a spruce tree just within the boundary.

Isan whined a little too, fearing that if he acted Porter would scold him. But fearing that if he didn’t his master‘s master, the yellow haired one, would be angrier still.

It hadn’t been as difficult as expected to find Gabriel’s lair.

Alekz had been searching non-stop since he had arrived in the city. Cromwell had ensured the car and equipment was ready. Fearing for his master’s safety, not out of affection but out of sheer unwillingness to be out of a job, Cromwell had packed a few extras in the pouch Alekz frequently wore on his hip. He had awoken his master and then retired to his duties as Alekz dressed.

As night finally inked the world black, the car blending in with the shadowed blue of the night, purred out of the underground stores and pulled out onto the road. Alekz, dressed in his trademarked body suit, looked onward, determined to get as much intel as he could. As he left the relative security of his estate grounds he pulled the mask and infra-goggles over his face. Killing the car’s headlights as he turned off onto a dirt track that ran a few miles west of his destination.

Seeing everything through the goggles, he stopped as his GPS system beeped. The engine now silent, the car darker than pitch, he trotted through the underbrush, heading east towards the Seneschal’s estate.

The reassuring weight of his pouch, combined with the slight bulk of his pistol only fuelled his arrogance as he reached the barb wired fencing. Hoisting himself up using a lariat he leapt down, not noticing his arrival had been detected by canine eyes. He scrambled up a nearby tree and began recording.

Guard patrol patterns, sensor spikes in the security system his company had installed, and times between CCTV camera sweeps. He watched through the goggles, adjusting them to magnify instead of enhance as he watched Gabriel pass a window on the second floor. He suppressed a growl as the blonde leaned over a desk before sitting, his left side to the glass pane.

Alekz recorded the image, broadcasting it back to his computer in his study.

The study was in darkness, cooled and empty. The computer suddenly bleeped, lights brightening as the message was received.

He turned then, focusing his attentions on the rest of the building. Flipping a switch in his headgear he compared the blueprints to the house with the [i:93ff8e10e1]actual[/i:93ff8e10e1] building. A few minor discrepancies furrowed his brow, doors where there shouldn’t be, windows that marked rooms unreachable from the inside. He grunted audibly before switching back to night-vision.

A low creak caught his ear as he watched. The creak became a groan, then a distinct growl prompting him to turn round.

The shape seemed to coalesce as he turned.

Definitely humanoid it sat on its haunches, long black hair cascading over muscled shoulders. Its green eyes flaring as it spoke. Haired and clawed digits hooking into the bark.

“What have we here?” Porter’s voice rolled like a slick of oil. Bubbling under with malice like broken glass.

Alekz stumbled back. Shock and disbelief that he’d been not only tracked but caught off guard, sent him tumbling arse over heels to the lawn below. He scrambled to his feet angrily and panicked and began to sprint towards the fence. Before he reached the steel-titanium mesh powerful arms cast him across the lawn like a rag doll. He tried to roll, tried to absorb the impact and crawled jelly-like to his feet. The Gangrel was upon him again.

In panic he pulled a canister from his pouch, spraying the contents into his attackers face. The feral snarl of pain filling the air as Porter’s eyes stung.

He flailed blindly for a moment, the pain subsiding as he blurrily watched the masked figure leap over the fence into the brush.

Alekz ran harder. His vampire body thundering as he tried to find something to slow his pursuer. He blindly cast egg-sized globes over his shoulder. Running faster as they exploded, filling the air with light and charged metallic strips. The Gangrel might not use technological senses, but the blinding flash might work he hoped.

He ran on, tripping as the very forest seemed to reach up at him from the soil.

Porter bellowed, too angry to consider the wolf form, he ran onwards. His eyes closing as the globes detonated, his hearing and sense of smell telling him where to run.

Alekz scrambled through the husk of a fallen tree, pausing to consider which direction to choose. Pausing to affirm his location. And pausing to withdraw his pistol. He heard a crack as something heavy landed on the rotten wood above him.

“Oh crap.”

Rolling out from under the crude, ineffective shelter he emptied a clip at the “shape”. All 10 rounds thudding into it as it dropped from the trunk. Stumbling backwards, the impacts from the firearm finally sent it toppling backwards with a growl.

Alekz didn’t waste time in ensuring it was down. Instead his booted feet pounded the undergrowth. Not hearing the Gangrel roll to his feet and continue the chase.

Panic was beginning to cloud his mind as he ran. Closing his eyes momentarily as he leapt a small stream, he flipped a “switch” in his head.

Grendel. Now fully aware, drove his body harder. Ignoring the fear and exhaustion his “weaker” self felt. He knew his time in control was limited. Driving into the denser brush he reloaded the pistol with a “chikt!” and pulled a larger globe from his pouch. Warming it in his hand he slowed his escape and turned to face the froth-faced Gangrel.

He waited. Waited. Then threw the globe at the Gangrel.

Porter raised a hand to swat the globe away, yelping as it exploded, covering him in sticky, resinous strands. The more he struggled, the tighter the strands embraced him, until he fell roaring his rage at the fading, fleeing figure.

“Bastard!”


Grendel ignored the sounds and reaching the dirt track, albeit one mile north of his car, he slowed to a trot.

Behind him Porter stopped struggling. He stopped moving, period. As the strands loosened he began to liquefy, melting down into the soil as he merged with the terrain.

Now underground he began moving with a vengeance. Hurtling, swimming, pouring through the cracks and pockets in the earth.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” His feral, liquid mind quivered.

The owl settled in once more, suspiciously taking several rapid glanced at the surrounding area to make sure that the bipeds were gone. They had stormed through, the scents of predator and prey trailing in their wake. As the nocturnal animal prepared to rest before setting out on another treck for food, a high pitched whine filled the air.

Light flooded the forest in solid, jerking beams. The dirtbikes plowed through the woody terrain with little resistance, their riders excercising ideal timing and skill. Loosely following a V-Pattern, the seven riders were covered in body suits, bent reflections of pines slipping from their helmets. A tinny voice echoed in the ear of the "alpha" rider.

"Be aware," Gabriel's distorted, yet all too familiar voice commanded, "the intruder is to be considered priority one alert." the rider gasped out an compliance, barely swinging his bike just in time to miss an old rooted tree stump. "Are you listening? Porter is out there too...be careful. Mars out."

From beneath their visors, the young vampires smiled, their bloodlust threatening to cloud their judgement. Nearly simoutaneously, their hands twisted the accelerator, throwing the bikes through the forest at blinding speeds.

The trees loomed high ahead, their peaks lost to the cloudy night sky. Winter was fast approached, and aside from the pines, most trees were becoming barren, even their bark chipping away, creating a makeshift graveyard. Beneath them, creatures scurried for relative safety, unnoticed by the pursuers.

Suddenly the alpha rider veered left, and the pack emerged into a sloping field, high grass and a solitary moon their only company. A long standing wooden fence stretched along the hillside several hundred miles away, most of it collapsed and overtaken by weeds. But the riders were aware of none of this, their vampiric blood urging them to locate their prey.

They fled down the hill, jerking occasionally to avoid gopher holes or large rocks, but never slowing. As they entered another thicket of trees the alpha rider slowed slightly, adjusting the shotgun that he had so carefully strapped to his back. Finally, a quarter mile into the woods, he stopped completely, the soft burbling of the idle motor the only sounds accompanying the group.

He threw the kickstand down and stepped off the bike, approaching a rusty old fence that stretched far on either side of them, barring their passage. The fence was undoubtably one of Gabriel's older territorial fences, before Cascadia had become such a hotspot for Kindred activity.

"Perhaps we should contact and ask him permi...." one of the riders offered.

"F*ck it." came the reply from the alpha, who gripped two bars firmly and tore the age worn fence from it's holdings. He heaved it behind him and remounted, leading the group through the sizeable gap.

Several bumps and winds later they emerged on a dirt road, long since forgotten about. Far off in the darkness, glinting in the moonlight, a suspicious sports car sat....

((Awww come on, like Porter wasn't hard enough to get away from? You c*nt! lololol