Eveshka stood atop the ruined parapet of what was the Fort of Saints Peter and Paul in the middle of what was once the River Neva. The Outriders had gone away. Whether they had truly been driven back or whether they had simply gone away for the time being remained to be seen.

Tromador was off some place. He got into his Rho-Car and headed north. He mentioned something cryptically about a place called Polyarny. Eve had no clue what he was talking about and just assumed that one of his little friends had taken over for the time being.

And so she stood and reached out with her soul one more time. Her projection went up into the atmosphere and into the swirling maelstrom of cloud and electromagnetic explosions. Up, up, up, up, up and then she saw, like a veil bring drawn away, a clear starry night sky. It was such a velvety black that it brought her a sense of peace. She saw the moon coming up over the horizon and watched it for a while. This was her first moon-rise in 400 years. She could feel something from it. She could feel life. Vibrant life. As it reached its zenith over head she saw something quite remarkable. The face of the moon had changed. There were lights coming from the dark side of it. Little twinkling pin-pricks very similar to those that she'd seen in 21st century photographs of the Earth by night as seen from space. As the moon was slivered from the Earth's shadow, she could clearly see the blotchy pattern of lights here and there.

Man kind had moved on it seemed. She was truly damned. The end truly had come. With that realization came a pull back towards the Earth. Those mortals that were still on earth were simply her fellow damned. Or were they?

That strange pull yanked her very strongly and she sank back into the murky storm. Down, down, down, down, down to a plateau. Upon which was a fire. A person on fire. JULIUS ON FIRE!!!! She screamed out. She saw a pained eye roll up to her directoin. Then he was gone.

Again she stood on the parapet of the old fort. She collapsed down and sat with her back leaning up against the stone. She sat like that for hours, simply staring off to the south. She could see over the battlements on the other side of the fort and down into Ulyanovsburg.

Her city.

Her Kingdom.


To serve in Heaven or rule in Hell?

Her Kingdom.

"I'd rather be a servant," she muttered to herself.

A gray, melancholy sky hung moodily over a tumultuous sea. The brackish green water rose and fell angrily, cresting in great rails of white water before hurling itself against the island’s rocky shores. It hurled itself in futile rage against the great boulders that rose defiantly from the water, undeterred by the centuries. The shore itself, curved dramatically in places and in others stretched in great white sand expanses losing itself in the salty oblivion of the ocean.

Beyond the stony beaches, a lush green forest was hampered by a stiff ascent up the face of a great volcanic peak. Invisible beneath the canopy were the now centuries old remains of human settlements, the once white washed walls now bleak and blackened. The island had been returned to nature, and the Azores probably appeared much as it had when the Portuguese had settled it nearly a millennia prior.

And so it appeared when a trio of bodies emerged from the ocean, bloated and rotting, and marched onto the beach.


With an effort he hadn’t put forth in decades Poe inhaled the salty air and was instantly retching up several liters of ocean waters onto the beach. Behind him, a pair of ragged individuals who vaguely resembled Gabriel and Kathy watched intently and then emulated his actions. Several minutes passed, and once the Kindred were convinced that their bodies were cleared of the unwanted water, they began to examine their surroundings.

“The Azores.” Gabriel stated at length, distant memories of vacations and business trips crossing through his mind. Exhausted from their trek across the Atlantic Ocean’s cavernous floor, the Ventrue planted himself upon a nearby outcropping. Even though their combined powers and potency made the trip a very possible one, it was draining nonetheless.

“We need to feed…” Kathy’s voice had coarsened considerably. Her sallow green eyes scanned the tree line keenly. Gabriel’s powers of influence had attracted enough schools of fish to the underwater intruders to keep them sustained for the trip, forcing the simple minded creatures to venture where they normally would not. The parlor trick had solved the issue of sustenance, but only barely. Ashore, they hungered for the hot pulse of life between their jaws.

The Gangrel crouched onto his haunches for a moment and then in a single blazing movement of grace and dexterity, propelled his body through the air, landing nimbly atop the stone plateau at who’s base Gabriel sat at. Poe stood for a moment, unmoving, before turning to the pair below.

“What we’re looking for is still several hundred miles to the east at the very least.” He looked towards the beach and beyond. His physical prowess had been invaluable to their journey, as he had provided them all with the fortitude to withstand the overwhelming pressure placed upon their bodies at such great depths.

The three fell silent, allowing the rustle of the palms and chaotic crash of the tide fill the air.

“Yes. I sense it. But for now, lets feed.” Without allowing time for a response or objection, the air crackled with blood magic and Gabriel disappeared from the outcropping and flew into the foliage that rose with the volcano into the distance. He moved at such a blistering speed, that to many of the forest’s inhabitants, he appeared little more than a dancing of leaves and a whip of the wind.

Splinters of tree trunks spun and flew as the vampire leapt with staggering accuracy from tree to tree, his inhuman reactions surveying the ground for any sign of significant life. About halfway up the volcano’s face, the Ventrue’s sharpened eyes spotted something. A robust hare made it’s way through the underbrush unaware of it’s deadly predator. Leaping from his perch atop a particularly tall palm, Gabriel shot towards the animal, leaving the palm to whip ferociously.

Within feet of his prize, a flash of ebony shot across the ground, and the hare was gone. Gabriel landed perplexed on the spot where the hare had sat only a split second before. Several yards away, Poe stood amused, the hare’s dying corpse between his thick jaws. The pallor disappeared from his cheeks as he consumed the lifeblood, and tossed the corpse aside.

“You’ll need to be quicker than that old man!” he laughed, launching himself into the canopy and leaving a starving and disgruntled Gabriel behind.

Julius lay, once again, on an alter. The sides of his resting place were bound in pale, glowing gold coils that formed a protective barrier. Coldly glittering eyes scanned the interior of the room constantly and a tongue flickered just above the wounded form. Assessing, always assessing its charge.

An indrawn gasp drew that tireless attention to the opened doorway and, in a blur of speed, the upper half of the body unwound itself and darted towards the two that stood there. Merciless eyes pinioned the duo of prey and drew them inward, as a mere garden snake draws the rat to it's doom. Again, the tongue darted out to taste, just inches from the face. First, the female, then the male.

With an air of resignation, the coils relaxed slightly and the creature returned to its original position. The two humans broke from their trance with widened, terrified eyes and a trembling that nearly drove them both to their knees. The man shoved the woman behind him and drew out the first sword, forged from the village smithy, that hung from his hip. But a warning hiss froze him once more. The wedged head wove in place but did not immediately attack. The tableau held for many minutes.

[i:330dd7b9d0]"It's ok, Zeki. I don't think she'll attack."[/i:330dd7b9d0] Karli's head had peeked around her mate's arm and was gazing into those fascinating orbs. The man didn't move one inch, still on his guard. [i:330dd7b9d0]"And how do [b:330dd7b9d0]you[/b:330dd7b9d0] know what [b:330dd7b9d0]it[/b:330dd7b9d0] intends to do? Let alone if it's female or not. They all look alike to me, just not so big!"[/i:330dd7b9d0] He bared his teeth in his beard in a challenging smile at the sinuous form. The snake kept it's wary stance.

[i:330dd7b9d0]"It's the Master's bird-woman, Cyrilynn. She's been changed into a reptile, from the look of things."[/i:330dd7b9d0] Karli's voice held absolute conviction. Zeki growled, then his voice took on a puzzled note. [i:330dd7b9d0]"How do you know it's her, anyway?"[/i:330dd7b9d0] Karli shrugged against his back so that he could feel it. [i:330dd7b9d0]"I can't tell you how she got like this but I just know, that's all. It's a female thing."[/i:330dd7b9d0] She smiled serenely at the python but her mate snarled, [i:330dd7b9d0]"Well, I'm not sacrificing your existence, or the life of the babe you've just had, for the sake of a hunch, dammit!"[/i:330dd7b9d0]

Stepping out and away from her human shield, the headwoman took a careful and slow step forward. Her protector's body jerked as he was once more paralyzed by a look that prevented him from barring her way. Sweat broke out in beads on his forehead and dread filled his brown eyes as the mother of his newly-born son approached the injured magus and his guardian.

A soft cry of distress broke from Karli's lips as she viewed the damage the flames had wrought and she raised tear-drenched eyes to meet those of the hovering serpent. With a dimming of that hard stare, that could almost have been termed a softening, the reptilian head slowly lowered until it came to rest next to that of a blackened foot. With a stumble, Zeki's compulsion dropped away and he staggered forward a step before regaining his balance.

Not pleased, [b:330dd7b9d0]at all[/b:330dd7b9d0], with the situation, Zeki reluctantly sheathed the precious steel weapon and backed cautiously to the doorway, keeping himself turned towards the interior of the area, just in case. The creature watched him steadily, tongue darting in and out, but did not stir. He leaned down and reached just beyond the doorway for something out of sight. Again, carefully, cradling a small basin in his arms, he came up to Karli's side. He glanced down and then let his stunned gaze travel the burned hulk that laid there. He forgot entirely about the snake.

Cyrilynn's brain registered the contents of the bowl and her head shot up and over the rim, rapidly darting her tongue in and out of the ruby liquid that rippled there. Karli, also forgetting the previously tense drama, snatched it from her man's hands and held it away from the seeking ribbon of flesh.

She scolded fiercely, [i:330dd7b9d0]"Leave that be! That's for the Master, silly! I assumed he'd be the same as you, although he's never indicated this to Zeki and me but I've not seen him eat, either."[/i:330dd7b9d0] She reached out a hand and stroked the cool, satiny jaw as her voice took on a teasing note, [i:330dd7b9d0]"I'll let you lick the bowl when I'm done, tho'."[/i:330dd7b9d0]

The Golden Python subsided to her perch and watched the two sponge the liquid carefully over her domitor's entire body, the heady scent of blood making her dizzy, at times. Dimly, the hidden spark of what was once a proud Tzimisce, understood that the special bath was an offering freely given by the entire population of New Enoch. For the first time in her undead life, she felt the faint stirrings of humbleness.

[i:1a6883692a]“You do know you’ve lost him don’t you? He was lost to you centuries ago....”

“Shut up, Poe! Damn it you’re just as pig ignorant as your supposed father. God I hate you mutts.”[/i:1a6883692a]

Poe’s handsome face wrinkled derisively. He wore the mask well, hiding his Patriarch’s traits under a thin veneer of civility. One he had mastered and perfected over the last three hundred years. He shifted on his haunches, gesturing for her to look down into the clearing their camp overlooked. The cacophonous forest suddenly soundless as his mate came into view.

[i:1a6883692a]“There he is, Katherine. You can cling on to the belief that you’re still his and he yours, but look at him.....

...tell me that is the man you love.....He’s lost to you, Katherine. And now he’s mine.”[/i:1a6883692a]

A hundred feet below the underbrush hurried aside, parting like some leafy green mockery of Moses’ miracle. The thing that grunted and struck its furred fists upon the earth certainly had some bearing of Gabriel. But it was infinitely small, buried under the furred and conical head that snuffled and wuffed before the claw-palsied fingers tore into the feast it had rewarded itself with.

The boar had died shrieking, bellowing in defiance as Gabriel’s talons gutted it, his fangs locked on its tusks as he broke the beast’s neck. Sinking his face into the gristle and gore, he fed savagely, letting the thrill of the hunt drown his civilised fragment for a time.

Kathy’s eyes went red with horror as her heart sank.

Gabriel seemed to sense spectators, looking up he wuffed at her loudly before howling a long, shrill keening. His bloodshot eyes turning to the butchery he had displayed. Poe growled dropping to all fours as he let the lion take him, creeping down to the clearing.

As Kathy watched, weeping, the wolf that once was Gabriel, and the cougar, Poe, slid off into the treeline.

His hunger sated, Gabriel stalked back through the jungle, gradually reverting from his predatory stride upon all fours to an upright jog. By the time he reached the clearing near the outcropping, his face and hands were devoid of any trace of gore.

Kathy sat absently staring out over the ocean, offering only a relunctant glimpse over her shoulder towards him. Her normally sterling eyes were rimmed with the crimson traces of blood tears.

[i:344021ac21]"Kath,"[/i:344021ac21] he called cautiously, moving slowly towards her, [i:344021ac21]"what's the matter?"[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"Nothing Gabriel."[/i:344021ac21]

The absence of any terms of endearment wrenched the severity of her distress into the open. He sat by her side.

[i:344021ac21]"Please tell me...you're all I have left."[/i:344021ac21] he motioned despairingly towards the ocean, the murky waters now growing increasingly black as another storm approached.

[i:344021ac21]"Am I?"[/i:344021ac21] she didn't sound hopeful.

[i:344021ac21]"Of course you are!"[/i:344021ac21] he placed his hands on her shoulders but she shyed away from him. [i:344021ac21]"Kathy..."[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"What about HIM Gabriel?"[/i:344021ac21] she was crying again, scarlet streaked down her cheeks. [i:344021ac21]"You're more like him than me now!"[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"What? Poe? That's ridiculous!"[i][/i:344021ac21] Their voices echoed over the forest below and trailed off into the rolling thunder.

[i:344021ac21]"Is it Gabriel? Is it so ridiculous? LOOK AT YOU!"[/i:344021ac21]

For the first time in centuries, the Ventrue looked at his own hands. They were thick with callouses, covered in a dense coarse hair, blonde like his own. His body remained as it had been for decades, brawny and muscular. He barely resembled the man he had once been.

[i:344021ac21]"I don't even know who you are Gabriel! I just..."[/i:344021ac21] her anger dissipated, and the anguish overtook her soft features, [i:344021ac21]"...I just want you back."[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"He never went anywhere."[/i:344021ac21]

Gabriel turned to see Poe haunched atop the rocky plateau, his dark hair whipped fiercely, foreboding the oncoming storm. Kathy looked away, retaking her place by the cliffside.

[i:344021ac21]"This is who he is Katherine. This is what he's become."[/i:344021ac21] he motioned towards the feral Kindred, [i:344021ac21]"If you can't understand him, the problem is yours, not his."[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"Stop it Poe."[/i:344021ac21] Gabriel grumbled, turning back towards Kathy.

[i:344021ac21]"Why Gabriel? It's the truth. Confront it, embrace it."[/i:344021ac21] Poe leapt down without barely a sound. [i:344021ac21]"Do you even remember killing that animal?"[/i:344021ac21]

Gabriel didn't respond.

[i:344021ac21]"You were lost in the thrill of the hunt."[/i:344021ac21]

Kathy sobbed quietly.

[i:344021ac21]"Enough Poe."[/i:344021ac21] the Ventrue's mood visably darkened.

[i:344021ac21]"We're predators Gabriel...animalistic. It's in our nature! We didn't just blood bond...we embraced Enn.."[/i:344021ac21]

The blow sent the Gangrel's slender form arching through the air. He barely managed to catch his bearings quick enough to avoid colliding into the rocky cliffside headfirst. He outstretched his legs and propelled himself from it's face, somersaulting through the air and landing safely back upon the grass. Gabriel stood seething only feet from him.

[i:344021ac21]"I said enough."[/i:344021ac21] he growled.

[i:344021ac21]"You can hide from it all you like old man. Sooner or later you're going to realize what you are, and then maybe it'll make it through that thick skull of yours how pointless your relationship with that tramp really is!"[/i:344021ac21]

The Ventrue's eyes went blank with rage and he shot forth like a tiger, frothing jaws agape. Poe made no attempt to use his superior speed and maneuverability. Gabriel landed atop his chest and the pair went rolling through the grass, tearing up great chunks of earth.

When they finally stopped, Gabriel sat atop the Gangrel, his hackles raised. He held one gruesome claw in the air, it's black talons shimmering dangerously.

[i:344021ac21]"Gabriel!"[/i:344021ac21] Kathy cried. He rolled off and stood shocked.

[i:344021ac21]"I...I..."[/i:344021ac21] he hadn't the words.

Poe stood up, healing the minor wounds inflicted upon him.

[i:344021ac21]"That's what you are Gabriel. A beast. Like me."[/i:344021ac21]

[i:344021ac21]"Not another word. Lets go."[/i:344021ac21]

Gabriel set off towards the far side of the island, and towards whatever lay beyond...


*********************

Several weeks elapsed before three familiar figures emerged from the tepid waters of what was once known to mankind as the English Channel.

Time, tide, progress and disaster had made little difference to Polyarny over the years since the break up of the Soviet Union. It had continued to be the base for the Northern fleet and central to the decommissioning of nuclear powered vessels right up until the war had come. Now it was a mass of rusting iron. The hulls of ships, submarines and buildings alike, slowly deteriorating under the salty enslaught of sea and weather.

Despite Eveshka's belief that George was entertaining a whim created by the crazed imaginings of his erratic mind, nothing could be further from the truth. Whilst those who had survived the Outrider attack already began to fall back into the easy trap of complacency, Tromador knew that they would return. This former military base, whilst in a state of disrepair, must still contain a variety of armaments, most likely in sealed bunkers and most likely fully functional.

George programmed the rho-car autopilot to land in a likely spot and leant back in his chair and mulled over how much he might be able to fit in the egg shaped vehicle. The car itself circled once over the base then began the landing cycle.

[i:b3b4a1674f]"What the..."[/i:b3b4a1674f] George started to swear as the rho-car violently bucked away from the ground and alarms sounded in the cabin. [i:b3b4a1674f]"Autopilot report!"[/i:b3b4a1674f] He snapped.

The calm feminine voice spoke in tones slightly less than patronising, but certainly guaranteed to make your teeth grate. [b:b3b4a1674f]"Radiation danger! Designated co-ordinates hazardous to health. Please program new destination."[/b:b3b4a1674f]

George considered this. If he knew more about the innards of rho-cars, no doubt he could override the safety systems, however it was probably easier to land a distance away and enter on foot. If he found what he needed he could worry about transporting it later. Also, he wasn't at all sure what effect radiation might have upon rho-cars, he might be able to use fortitude to resist it, but advanced electronics tended to be sensitive to such things.

As it happened, the car eventually allowed him to land a couple of miles away, on the far side of the Murmansk fjord. A short distance, as the crow flies, but a day's hike over rough terrain even for a Kindred. Tromador got out of the car and started opening up some of the storage compartments, when venturing into potentially hostile terrain it paid to be prepared.

Much of his equipment would have been familiar to anyone who knew him even in Cascadia. The tailored armour and the repeater crossbow, with magazines of both plain and magnesium tipped ammunition dated back to his first days as Seneschal. His old broadsword had been replaced a new and much more up to date vibrosword, a gentle humming coming from the black cortosis weave which rendered the weapon frictionless, razor sharp and practically indestructible. To complete the ensemble, a battered looking dual barrelled sawnoff fitted neatly into a holster inside his jacket, along with a variety of ammunition, some quite ordinary, some highly specialised.

George slipped a few blood pearls into a pocket and turned to his men. A platoon of US marines formed up behind him, the ubiquitous M at the forefront, sporting sergeants stripes. [i:b3b4a1674f]"We're ready L.T."[/i:b3b4a1674f]

[i:b3b4a1674f]Rediculous[/i:b3b4a1674f] thought George as he led his squad from the LZ.

On the far side of the inlet, the flight of the rho-car had not gone unnoticed. Within the darkness of ruined buildings, twisted metal and radioactive waste, something stirred.

Eve and Raphaelo walked along the putrid banks of the Neva heading towards what was the Baltic Sea.

"So what do you figure they are?" asked Raphaelo.

"Mmm?" asked Eve who had again been thinking about Julius.

"The Outriders," he stated. "What do you think they are?"

She shrugged.

"Were you around the last time they came?" she asked.

"Well, yes."

"You would have a better idea than I would then," she shrugged again.

They walked on in silence. He kept looking at her. It was obvious that he was attracted to her. She knew that, but she didn't give it any thought. After all, who wasn't attracted to her? At least in her opinion.

They had wandered to the mouth of the Neva. She shook her head in sorrow at the wreckage of the coast line. "There must be something that can be done to fix this," she said.

"Well, in a manner of speaking we are fixing this, the problem is, how best to fix it so that when it is fixed we are on top," said Raphaelo.

She looked at him incredulously. "You must be joking. With all this destruction you are still thinking about how best to come out on top?"

"Aren't we all?" he asked. He stepped towards her and gently touched her chin to raise her head. She permitted it.

"We could do this Eveshka," he said. "We could do this together."

She merely cocked an eyebrow and listened.

"All of the others back there," he made a jerked his thumb towards Ulyanovsburg. "You honestly think they stand a chance at survival?"

She listened as he got closer to her face.

"I mean, that chap George, he is very capable and all, but what could he possible contribute except further chaos when this world is set right?" he said, bringing his lips almost to touch hers.

"I know you want the power and glory back Eveshka," he said. "Tigers do not change their stripes, you want to be worshipped and adored."

She swallowed and nodded slightly.

"I could give you that," said the Lasombra as his lips met hers. Her lips parted and they kissed. In between letting her tongue dance playfully with his he would whisper, "Be mine, and I will make you a Goddess again." They kissed for a good long time, blood starting to run down their chins. Whose blood was anyone's guess at first.

The Lasombra puuled away and seemed to be overcome, there was something going on he couldn't quite grasp.

Eveshka licked rivulets of blood off of his chin gently, like a kitten. She licked and then kissed, licked then kissed. She had both her hands wrapped lovingly around his neck as if it were something more tender.

"What makes you think, My Lover," she asked in a low purr. "That I could not just take the world in spite of you and make you worship me anyways?"

In a fluid motion she lifted him off the ground and hurled 20 meters away to land in a heap on the shore line.

"Do not ever presume that I am some giddy little school girl who can be played," she said. The Lasombra merely looked at her in fear and realized that the blood all down his front, and still dribbling from the corners of her mouth, was his. She had bewitched him so that he did not even realize what was happening.

"I am tired of the power plays. I am tried of surviving. I am tired of the scheming. I am tired of it all," she shouted. Before he coudl respond or react she was upon him with fangs bared. He'd never seen anyone move so fast.

"Either help US," she said, accenting the word 'us.' "Or be on your way. Just know that I held your existence in my hands and let you live."

She released him and stood up.

"Know that even though I am not touching you, your existence is still within my grasp..... and always will be," she added as an after thought and turned her back on him and walked away.

The hike into Polyarny from the LZ had been strangely quiet. No rustling in the undergrowth, no startled birds hurrying away. There should have been something. Too quiet. George's concern expressed itself in the nervousness of his "platoon". The men were becoming increasingly edgy, the endless and oppressive silence chilling them to the bone. It wasn't natural.

The base was different, the once stern defences were unmanned and easily passed, but the breeze whistled and tore at the decaying buildings, a continuous hum and the sound of tortured twisting metal, aching and groaning, shuddering as the slow, but relentless onslaught of weather performed it's relentless attack.

Caches of weapons could be anywhere, or nowhere. George shrugged and selected a building, heading towards it fairly purposefully. He could feel the radiation beginning to tickle his skin, not unlike the sensation of the lightening sky signalling the dawn to come. George pressed on, his fortitude ample protection against even much higher dosages.

The building George had selected was amongst a cluster of similar buildings surrounding what might have once been a parade square. countless Soviet and Russian boots must have passed across it, leaving an almost polished patina, beneath the dust and dirt. Abruptly George whirled, his "platoon" had vanished. M scurrying for cover was like a sixth sense. Something was wrong. He narrowed his eyes, scanning around from his exposed position in the centre of the square.

Then the noise began, echoing around the square, a single voice whooping and hollering, as if a child played at cowboys and indians, brandishing a plastic tomahawk. Then silence. The clattering of a metal lid, carried by the wind across the square. George unlimbered his crossbow and the noise began again, not one voice, but two, three, many voices, their high pitched whoops seeming to come from all directions and none, almost, but not quite human, anger laced with dread and something else, George could not fathom.

Ker-thunk, Ker-thunk, Ker-thunk went the crossbow, it's repeating action delivering steel shafts into the bodies of the oncoming hordes. Twisted parodies of men, warped by years of exposure to radiation, mutated over the generations, broken in body and mind. And always, always the same whooping howl, howling as they ran toward the kindred fighting in the middle of the square, howling as they fell to the ground, howling as their comrades stopped to feast upon the fallen, be they dead or alive, before continuing to attack the fresh meat at their epicentre.

At the centre of the maelstrom stood George, whirling from one target to the next, aiming, pulling the trigger and releasing death into the air. Faster and faster he moved, engaging more and more of his celerity until to him it seemed that the bolts almost hung in the air, leisurely flying toward targets and that the crossbow reload mechanism inched only slowly back towards the nut. He dropped the now ineffective weapon, watched for a moment as it began it's snail's pace journey to the ground and pulled forth his vibrosword.

George was no Eveshka, bladework made into an art form, as deep rooted in her Toreador psyche as her paintings or music. No. George had learned bladecraft during the fifteenth century, when York and Lancaster battled for the Crown of England. The blood strewn field of Bosworth had been his proving ground and it had created in him a rougher, dirtier style which relied as much upon raw instinct as elaborate technique. Medieval warfare had been a bloody business and so was Tromador's swordsmanship.

The pile of hacked of limbs, dismembered torsos, heads and other less identifiable body parts grew as with seeming ease, George plied his sword into each new oncoming attacker, their slow motion movements making them easy prey to the power of his celerity, yet still, still they came. A ring around him of blood slick concrete, creatures gorging on the dead at it's perimeter and still more climbing over them only to become the next victim of the flickering matt black blade.

It didn't take an expert to realise the situation was going nowhere, eventually, even a kindred with the skills of Tromador would be overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers, somehow the balance had to be shifted. A whirling strike, sent the closest group of mutants flying, giving precious time for a vampire with celerity to choose a new course of action. The sword was dropped for the moment, covered in blood, to sheath it would be a mistake. To replace it, George drew his sawn off from within his jacket and selected a pair of incendiary shells, 23rd century incendiary shells, slamming them into the breach and closing the weapon ready to fire.

In the slow motion world of George's celerity, the gun seemed to take an eternity to fire, his outstretched arm pointing his flame laden intentions at the horde. Even before the first shell had detonated, he was turning to loose the second barrel, then to reload as the first barrage exploded, sending half the parade square up in arcing flames reaching to the sky. Two more reports of the shotgun had the rest of the parade ground aflame, save for where George stood, concentrating now as much upon his own rötschrek as in retrieving his blade to fend off the survivors.

The tone of the howling changed, not the anger, defiance and what George now realised was hunger, but to a high pitched scream of fear and terror. No more of the crazed mutants were exiting the buildings and those who remained either ran screaming back into them or were caught within the fire ring and died upon George's blade.

George wiped his blade upon some of the rags with which the mutants clothed themselves and carefully sheathed it. He retrieved his crossbow and fitted a new magazine, this time magnesium incendiary. He pulled a blood pearl from his pocket and drained it dry. At last, there was peace, save for the crackling of the flames.

((ooc, kindly note that i finished the post I started :) ))

[quote:a435229bd4="Eveshka"]((ooc, kindly note that i finished the post I started :) ))[/quote:a435229bd4]

OH YEAH! I noticed it! :shock:

Um... WOW! Well worth waiting for, I might add. ::evil grin:: Just one reading feast after another. Yumm, you two!! mwhahahaha

Ok, Poe and Gariel. Where's desert!!?? :D

Raphaelo skulked several meters behind Eveshka as they made their way back to Ulyanovsburg. The sky seemed to darken even more than it already was. The clouds began to swirl faster and the lightning flashed across the gloomy heavens with more frequency.

Eveshka looked back at the Lasombra who was looking up at the sky with increasing apprehension.

"Come on," called Eve. "Something is up, we need to get back to the Fortress." She began to run, only employing a bit of celerity as she had no idea what was going to happen.

The Lasombra followed in her wake as best he could but was having difficulty keeping up. She was outpacing him.

"Wait!!!" shouted Raphaelo. "I can't keep up!"

Eveshka stopped and turned around. Raphaelo was a good one hundred meters behind. Just behind him were the shadowy forms of the Outriders. They were returning. It looked like about 30 of them. Eveshka drew her enchanted rapiers and was on to him in a flash. Her whirling blades created a buffer zone for the two of them.

"We've got to make our way to the Fortress," she said.

She whirled around acting as a moving wall of steel. The two vampires made their way to the fortress as quickly as they could. They heard a dull clanking sound. The kindred in the fortress were already alerted to the oncoming host of darkness. Torches were springing to light along the battlements. The problem was, the more torches were lit, the greater the propensity for the vampires, particularly the younger ones, to freak out due to [i:b4f203fe00]rotschrek. [/i:b4f203fe00] The result was, very few Cainites manned the walls, they mostly huddled in the central parade ground away from the flames.

Raphaelo and Eveshka made it to the walls of the Fortress of Saints Peter and Paul at about the same time the 30 Outriders slammed into the wall and started to climb the walls. They did not seem to be able to go through solid objects. For all of their shadowy and unsubstantial nature, they appeared to have to obey the laws of physics. The amount of blood Eveshka had to expend to maintain the shield of whirling blades had taken its toll on her. She did not have the power to jump the fortress wall carrying Raphaelo who did not have the ability to jump the wall on his own.

The two came to a stop at the base of a bastion. Eve held their front with both blades drawn, her legs spread a shoulder's length apart. She saw that there was nothing she could do to save both of them. She looked back at Raphaelo who uselessly had a pistol drawn. The Outriders that remained on the ground, about 10 of them, began to close on the two. Eve weighed her options and made a decision, the consequences of which she would deal with later. She used her last bit of celerity to move around behind the Lasombra and sank her fangs into his neck and drank as quickly as she could. She felt power surge back into her body as she sucked the "life" out of Raphaelo. With fangs still in his neck she grabbed his limp but ecstatic form around his waist and leaped the wall.

She nearly drained him, and shoved him unceremoniously off the wall to lay in a heap in the parade ground. With her eyes gleaming wildly she called for the bravest of her lot to join her on the battlements.

"DO NOT FEAR THE FIRE MY CHILDREN!!!!" she roared imperiously. One of her childer seemed to materialize next to her on the battlements with an enchanted blade in her right hand, and a battered banner in her left. On the spontoon flew the faded, but still tell tale cypher of Touraine. Eve looked at it as the wind caught it. She smiled at the beauty of it. She'd never gone into battle with banners flying.

[i:a25ecac7a5]"Zeki?"[/i:a25ecac7a5] Karli's musing call disturbed the headman's contemplation of the village's children at play, as he lounged in Julius's doorway. [i:a25ecac7a5]"I'm really worried about Cyrilynn."[/i:a25ecac7a5]

The human huffed in disgusted annoyance. That damned snake-woman again! He didn't like her in the least and she gave him the willies. Had, ever since she'd stalked them, hog-tied him and his woman and dragged them, unwillingly, to this place.

It wasn't so bad, living here, but she seemed to be the poisonous thorn in this paradise and he'd sacrifice himself before he'd let her anywhere near any of the children. He'd seen the naked look of hunger it that thing's eyes whenever any of the youngling's games brought them within viewing distance of the master's abode.

Zeki squinted at a hunched lad, perched on a low built stone wall. The hope was that Andrey was either sulking or suffering from some kind of cold and not from any blood loss. Although the adult villagers contributed enough blood on a daily basis, he wouldn't put it past that monstrosity to nibble on her own. But he'd yet to catch her having abandoned her appointed post.

He sighed as his mate called again, [i:a25ecac7a5]"Zeki? Did you hear me? I think something is seriously wrong. Would you come and look at this, please?"[/i:a25ecac7a5] Karli's mate sighed and stomped back towards the darkened interior of what he now considered a tomb. A tomb of the undead.

[i:a25ecac7a5]"What seems to be wrong with it?"[/i:a25ecac7a5] Voice gruff and uncaring, he searched for the golden serpent and realized that the darkness was even thicker than before; no glowing coils were keeping the gloom at bay. He stooped down and managed to make out the pattern of scales still plastered around the bier but the life sustaining them seemed almost sucked away. Strange.

He stood and spotted Karli on the opposite side, between the comatose mage and the outer wall. She had a frantic look on her face, the quiver of her lower lip telling him she was ready to cry. He hurried to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him in a comforting embrace. With luck, the creature would be dead. He could handle that.

His mate buried her face in his shirt, snuffled once, then drew a quivering breath before letting it out in a soft sigh. She raised pleading eyes to his. [i:a25ecac7a5]"What's the problem, my love? What's troubling you?"[/i:a25ecac7a5] he asked gently. It cost him nothing to be tender with her if it meant being rid of his nemisis.

Karli twisted out of his grasp and knelt beside the now quiescent reptile. The head was lowered to lie flat on the ground, the eyes staring blankly ahead, no movement evident. Despite the coils still lying around the magus's bed, they were not bound tightly to it; instead they lay like a pile of discarded rope on the floor.

He didn't notice the anomoly, at first. Karli had to take hold of his hand and run it over the roughened bumps that lay about two feet down from the head and along the spine. If he remembered correctly, normal snakes had small heads, with a body that plumped in the middle and then tapered off to a skinny tail.

However, this time, the neck had swelled to twice it's usual width and even more so where the lumps resided. The middle section appeared diminished but the tail section seemed normally shaped. And, if he was not mistaken, the head had doubled in size as well; the nose had become blunted.

The skin was hot and dry and rasped faintly when he stroked along it. The Cyrilynn-creature didn't seem to be aware he was touching her. He ran his fingers over the raised area again but one of them suddenly gave beneath the pressure and began oozing a viscous liquid. Little tentacles emerged and latched onto his finger.

With a cry of horror, Zeki fell backward, taking Karli with him, into a tangled heap. By the time they sorted themselves out, the other three pockets had also burst and the snake had begun raising and lowering it's head against the ground, with a pounding [i:a25ecac7a5]*thwack*[/i:a25ecac7a5]. The headman hustled his unwilling mate out of the place just as the entire body began convulsing.

Zeki, with the help of several other village males, found enough wood and nails to board the place shut, despite Karli's cries and pleas to be allowed to help [i:a25ecac7a5][b:a25ecac7a5]it[/b:a25ecac7a5][/i:a25ecac7a5]. Zeki finally had to cart her back to their own place, shut her in their room and spend the night with the doors and windows barred and a weapon in his hand, while she cried her eyes out.

He wasn't sure he wanted to face the day, when it came.

Onward swept the shadowy host. They crashed into the walls of the crumbling fortress like a wave. Within moments they were scaling the walls with blistering speed. Around Eveshka and the older vampires the Outriders seemed to be cowed. They could not pierce the zone of enchanted steel and thaumaturgical strikes. The younger vampires who had survived the initial conflagration of centuries before to be put into torpor or were unfortunate enough to be embraced after the holocaust were brought down screaming.

Eveshka called for her minions to fall back to the central citadel from where she could at least help the younger ones a little better. Off in the distance a a rumbling sound was heard, from someplace up in the sky. Something large and man made was moving through the atmosphere. Eve looked up and pushed her hair out of her face. The sulphury smell of dying vampires filled the air. Ash blew on the winds. She had never seen a battle like this before. Please let it be help, she thought.

She watched as the brave Childe who held the tattered flag of Touraine was bowled over by a rush of shadow and teeth. No time to think about her now. They finally made it into the Citadel and formed a phalanx around the younger vampires who cowered in the middle. Eveshka's old Seneschal, Montcalm, had made it she saw. He was anchoring the far side of the small square. He turned and saluted with his sword and then turned back to face the slowly moving shadows that were circling the Cainites and moving ever closer.

A jet of flame erupted from behind the Outriders. It came down from the heavens. Tromador's Rho-Car was descending from the clouds. He had returned. The Outriders let out piercing screams and scattered. Eveshka looked up at him frantically, not know what to do. There were only about 10 Vampires left now. Could they all fit in the vehicle? She doubted it. The car came down to rest within the small knot of vampires. The young vampires tried to climb on board the car scrambling for space.

"NO DAMMIT" roared Tromador. "You can't all come."

Eve was in a panic. She had only two Childer left. She thought about it for a split second and then grabbed both of them and vaulted onto the rho-car. Montcalm clambered onto the rho-car which sank beneath the weight. If only Julius were here, he'd create a solution from magic. Magic. The Veil. Pierce the Veil.

Eveshka raised her hands and shouted the words of power as she had done millenia ago as a Priestess of Avalon. Like a curtain opening up a brilliant light poured through the inky blackness.

"GO!!!" she shouted at the stunned young ones and an equally stunned Tromador. "LEAVE THE FUCKING CAR AND RUN!!!"

The small group of Vampires ran into the light and away from the Outriders. Eve was the last one to run through. She closed it with a word behind them.

Far away beneath the curtainwall, Raphaelo stirred and saw the light flash and the Vampires run through, leaving him behind. "Bastards," he said quietly as the Outriders, sensing him, turned and closed in on him.

In the strange misty otherworld, were raised voices ...

[i:3ee8968a05]"We needed you, George. Where were you? Off with the fairies again?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

Tromador just stared at Eve.

[i:3ee8968a05]"You stink. And what are you covered in?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

Tromador blinked. [i:3ee8968a05]"Fairies. I see. Actually I was at Polyarny, trying to find some weapons we could use. I stink of zombie, on account of they tended to explode all over my jacket. If you had listened properly when I was trying to explain..."[/i:3ee8968a05] George slumped. [i:3ee8968a05]"Gah... what's the use. Why should Evey listen to poor mad George."[/i:3ee8968a05]

There was silence for a moment, tendrils of vapour coiled and moved about the feet of the few remaining kindred.

[i:3ee8968a05]"What weapons?"[/i:3ee8968a05] Asked Eve, at length.

[i:3ee8968a05]"Flamethrowers, some light bombs, couple of hover tanks... well, the control headsets..."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"The what?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"The keys... need someone to drive them. New fangled gadgets, it's as much as I can manage to keep that car in the air."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"Where?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"In the car. Still. Probably being looted. I have no clue how bright those outriders are."[/i:3ee8968a05] George stopped and looked around. The landscape was unfamiliar, seeming to disappear into the mists after a short distance. [i:3ee8968a05]"What now, Eve?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"What do you mean?"[/i:3ee8968a05] Asked Eve.


[i:3ee8968a05]"I presume you had some plan when you brought us to... wherever this is. Or was it just one of those spur of the moment things you so hate when it's anyone else doing it."[/i:3ee8968a05]

Eve glared at George. [i:3ee8968a05]"Positive and useful as ever Trom."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"I'll take that as a no. Typical!"[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05][b:3ee8968a05]"WILL YOU TWO PLEASE STOP."[/b:3ee8968a05][/i:3ee8968a05] The raised voice of Montcalm interjected. [i:3ee8968a05]"You can argue and snipe at each other at your leisure, but right now, I think some kind of escape plan might be in order ..."[/i:3ee8968a05] He bowed. [i:3ee8968a05]"... with all due respect to you both, of course."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"How about that wizard friend of yours, Julius was it? I understand he's rather powerful ... even if his brain does seem to be even more toasted than mine."[/i:3ee8968a05]

Eve bit back a sharp retort, then stared at the floor for a moment.

[i:3ee8968a05]"I'm sorry."[/i:3ee8968a05] Said George unexpectedly. [i:3ee8968a05]"I didn't mean to ..."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"I don't know how much use he will be."[/i:3ee8968a05] Cut in Eve. [i:3ee8968a05]"Last I saw, he was bathed in fire, dying ... not dead yet though. I would know it ... maybe ..."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"Any better ideas?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

Eve shook her head.

[i:3ee8968a05]"We better get moving then, I guess, can you get us out of this ... place?"[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"Yes, but the outriders ..."[/i:3ee8968a05]

George grinned and reached into a pocket, pulling out a small device. [i:3ee8968a05]"I told you I had a couple of these left. Inconnu lightbombs. If we could just have that Lasombra produce his shadows again, we'll have no problem getting to the car and the weapons. The tanks aren't far. Whatever we do, we can't stay here."[/i:3ee8968a05]

[i:3ee8968a05]"Raphaelo didn't make it ..."[/i:3ee8968a05]

George looked at the ragtag bunch of childer left in the group. [i:3ee8968a05]"It's going to get toasty for a couple of seconds then. I hope they can stand up to it."[/i:3ee8968a05]

Eveshka nodded and prepared to lift the veil once more. George pulled the pin on the lightbomb. [i:3ee8968a05]"Ready?"[/i:3ee8968a05] He said.

The veil lifted and Tromador threw the bomb, for a moment, the shadowy world was full of light.