Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: The Phantom Quarter

as written by Script

"Better than letting Arman tread all over us any longer," Seri retorted as they left. "I'd have given it a week, two weeks tops before he tore your throat out and the rest of us were left for dead, or pulled into his insane rampage ourselves on threat of going out the same way."

The werecat stuck his hands in the pockets of his ragged trousers and stared at the ground with a grimace. "Someone needs to put that psycho down." he hissed.

Hopefully tomorrow would go well. He didn't trust these Bloodstone either, but given a choice between them and Arman, who he knew was crazy? He'd take his chances with them.
 
as written by Tiko and Emperor Jester

Christian made his way through the Phantom Quarter seemingly indifferent to the stench that assaulted him with every step. The putrid odor was made all the worse by the recent rains that had added a layer of humidity to the filth that filled the streets.

The stench of decay assaulted his nostrils as he continued on his way, but it was an aroma that the young necromancer was well at home with. Perhaps it was his tolerance for all things putrid that had been the reasoning behind his current task he mused. He certainly couldn't see Varia or Arien venturing down this way of their own accord.

It had taken him the better part of the night to track down his quarry though. The Phantom Quarter residents in particular seemed exceptionally reluctant to speak to foreigners, let alone to speak of the creature that called the Phantom Quarter home.

Those that did speak with Christian all seemed to have some manner of theory into Nox's nature. Some claimed he was a necromancer, others a demon. Some yet spoke of his enduring youth, and whispered of vampire. Most refused to aid Christian in locating the individual though, and dawn was only an hour off when he finally found himself at the entrance to Nox's dwelling.

He didn't bother knocking as he pushed the door open. He sensed no presence - living or dead - within the building, and he would rather await Nox's return inside rather than out in the open where prying eyes might linger.

The abandoned motel building looked no better on the interior than it had the exterior, and rats scurried from his presence as floorboards creaked beneath his feet.

____

A day about the quarter had not proved fruitful at all. No one living here seemed to remember the Caeruleum dynasty now, even though there had been humans alive during its height, and especially during its downfall. No one seemed to remember the rumors that may have circulated, planning a revolution, a coup, an overthrowing. Curse them all. A day wasted, and now the sun was rising, and Nox felt the ever alluring temptation to sleep away another month of his possibly eternal life. An eternal life without answers....the though alone...

A dismissive wave of his hand did little to clear away the thoughts of failure, but he did so anyway as he made his was back to his temporary abode. Truth, Nox had managed to scurry like a rat and collect a fair bit of his families extensive wealth, but that was tucked away until a day he could make a proper return to glory, and restore the power, dominance, and respect the Caer had once held. Still...the closer he drew to his 'home', the more uneasy he felt. Something didn't seem right, something felt off. There was an odor that rose above the stink and the squalor that normally permeated the air.

Wait...

From across the street, Nox noticed that the door to the motel was open. The undead was sure he'd closed it on his way out, as to discourage...interlopers and investigators. However, the thought did occur to him that it could be another refuge from the toil of the city, much like himself. He doubted it was one of his kind, none of them had sought him out since his flight from the ruins of his ancient home. Still, Nox did not like this one bit.

Shortly he was across the street and entering the domicile behind the trail of whoever had been snooping, moving with purpose towards his own room...

____

Nox came upon Christian swiftly enough as the young vampire made his way through the old motel cautiously pushing open doors to vacant rooms as he went. There was no sign of habitation within any of them, and the carpets had grown moldy from leaks in the neglected roofing of the building.

The only life to make itself known was that of the rats that scurried from his presence.

Nox's room was two doors down yet and Nox would find Christian carefully pushing open the final door. As the door creaked open, the room stood just empty as the ones before it had, and Christian was beginning to doubt the accuracy of the information that had led him to this decrepit building.

The stench of the Phantom Quarter that filled his nostrils was so overpowering as to eliminate any hope of detecting the vampire's scent if he was nearby.

Only one room remained.

____

Nox's imposing frame filled the hallway behind Christian, and he could certainly feel his blood lust rising. An intruder, an interloper, an ne'er-do-well, snooping about his temporary residence. The nerve of it all. However...this was hardly the time or place for Nox to be losing himself to his base desires, the ones that ran so deeply within his family's blood. Casually, as he approached, he stopped masking his footsteps, instead letting his heavy boots thunk against the rotting, straining wooden floor.

However, he did this were his last few steps alone, seriously closing the distance just as Christian would reach the final door, a large, cold hand closing around the back of the youth's neck with a somewhat excessive force, before relenting just enough to allow a human, because that is what Nox assumed the intruder was, to speak.

"For what reason do you reach for this door, boy?" Was what a voice that sounded like a frozen tumbling brook would ask, even as Nox fought the tempting urge to sink his nails into the soft, somewhat cool flesh beneath them.

____

Christian stiffened as Nox's hand closed around his neck and raised his hands up in a show of non-hostility. He could survive a great deal of damage, but he didn't fancy to try his luck at decapitation if the vampire at his back chose to remove head from body.

"I bring a message, for Nox Caeruleum," Christian said.

Had his heart beat, it might have been in his throat as Nox held him firmly within his grasp.

____

The mention of his family name renewed the surge of aggression nestled deep within Nox, but he was not some beast, as many believed his family to have been. Instead, he slowly released the messenger, eyeing his back side with a new-found suspicion. "Do not turn around. Deliver your message, and you may yet leave, depending on who has sent you."

Not that Christian could see, but there was the trademark light shining from his clear blue eyes, almost as bright as that of a torch or a lamp, and certainly it was casting a glow over his shoulders and against the wall. Truly, it was a sign that his name was not a lie. Cerulean demons had been the commoner name for his lineage, and it was well deserved.

____

"I was sent by one who shares the pain of old wounds," Christian answered carefully. "One who would see your noble house rise once more. My sire wishes to meet with you."

He itched to turn around and to look upon Nox, but he stayed the impulse.

____

Interesting. This was not hat he expected. "I see. And why should I trust these words? Give me a name, personal or house. I am not of mind to blindly follow breadcrumbs into a possible trap." The light would only grow brighter, filling the hallway now with dancing shadows of ice blue and fleeting black. .

____

"My sire shares equal concern," Christian admitted reluctantly. "She fears that your years under House Sylvestre have tempered you to old feuds. She would have me ask what assurance she has of her safety in revealing herself to you."

He licked his lips nervously not caring to cross the man at his back. But neither did he care to cross the one who had sent him.

One word from Nox to House Sylvestre would see carefully lain plans uprooted before they could come to bear fruit, a fact that Christian was well aware of. His own life hung in the balance if his presence were discovered within the city.

____

With a snarl, the light seemed to die before reigniting with even more fervent a blaze. "House Sylvestre. I swore to them for the purpose of survival. They swore to help me find answers and justice, but they have sat idle. I hold to them no true loyalty, this I swear to myself, and to you now."

The light seemed to narrow before reducing to the standard, soft shimmer. "You may turn around, youth. For now you have stayed my hand." To emphasize this point, Nox took a step back. But his unblinking eyes never left Christian's neck. The thought of course, had entered his mind that the young kindred could be a Sylvestre spy, sent to test his loyalty, but that little concerned him. If that was proven true by interrogation, Nox would simply dispatch him, and deny ever encountering said spy...But he'd wait and see, first.

____

As Christian turned around he would appear to Nox as more corpse than living. His hair was a stark white, and his skin was ghastly pale and stretched over a sickly thin form. Crimson eyes filled sunken eye sockets and his cheekbones were gaunt and hollow.

His fingers itched to call upon his necromancy, but he had a feeling Nox would snap his neck before he so much as raised his hand.

"Do you know of the old Lessard Estate?" he asked.

The manor and grounds that Christian spoke of were situated less than an hour outside of the city, and had been abandoned for many a year now. The name itself carried history with it though, and the Lessard family was one of some prominence within the city and rooted in old money. It might be a point of note though that as far as Nox was aware, the Lessard family was of human bloodlines. Perhaps the estate was simply a location of convenience, and of no correlation to the family name it carried.

"My Sire would meet with you there, far from the prying eyes of the city."

____

By contrast, Nox appeared strong, enduring, almost larger than the mortal life he had forsaken, as if his undeath had never affected him whatsoever, beyond the ceasing of his heart beat and the chilling of his blood. "You speak in riddles, young one." Nox called him this, only because now, it was obvious what the creature before him truly was, a Kindred, though much different than the Caer's strain or variation of curse, that much was obvious. A sudden, gut wrenching feel of disgust and pity almost overtook the Elder in the room, and he could feel his fist clench hard enough to send his own talons deep into his dead flesh.

"You name the Lessards, a family known to me, but last I heard, they still clung to their mortality." Still, the chance that his was speaking the truth could not be denied. The Sylvestre were not ones to venture outside of Lutetia, if indeed they were the family as Nox had met and known them. The suspicion lessened, but was still there, pulling at the paranoia that was deeply rooted within Nox.

However...

"Fine. Take me there. But let it be known that if this is some form of ruse, your end will NOT be swift..." Once more, that piercing gaze of luminous cyan, focused on Christian's dead, function-less heart.
 
as written by Calcos

The warmth of the barrel fire behind him kept the unusually mortal chill at bay. He felt sated for the moment, a blood-stained smile curling at his lips as he basked in the warm glow provided by the flame. It smelled awful here, as it always did, but he had grown used to the stench during his tenure in this part of town; something he wasn't proud to admit.

"I really enjoyed our time together," he said aloud with a chuckle. He turned his head to the side, looking back at the metal canister. "Was it good for you as well?" He returned his gaze to what was ahead of him, which was nothing but desolate street and decaying architecture.

The aroma of garbage and bile coupled with the eyesore sights of crumbling apartments and storefronts were commonplace in the Phantom Quarter. However, if Vayne were to be forced to call this place home, even if only for the moment, he couldn't help but to appreciate the view.

"Bah, I guess it doesn't matter," he said, standing up. He dusted his cloak off vigorously before throwing a waving hand into the air and strolling down the alleyway. "Maybe I'll see you again sometime," he said as he walked away from the ashen corpse within the barrel, a fang-lined grin playing at his visage.

"Yes, maybe."
 
as written by Tiko and Emperor Jester

"God this place smells like a dead animal that was left out in the sun too long," Elliot complained with his sleeve raised to his nose. "Who the fuck would want to live out here?"

"It doesn't matter, let's just get him and go," Lea answered.

Erec meanwhile was checking his side-arm. The clip was filled with hollow silver-laced bullets filled with a luminescent glowing fluid that would emit ultraviolet light. Satisfied he pushed the clip back in. Not all vampires had a weakness to such things, but then that was what the broadsword on his back was for. A bit archaic, but sometimes nothing beat a good old fashioned blade when dealing with an enemy who's prone to just getting back up after being shot. Decapitation was a remarkably effective means of subduing an opponent, regardless of genetic immunity or resistances.

"You know we're supposed to be bringing him in alive, right?" Lea asked.

"You really think this asshole is going to come in quietly?" Erec asked. "The fucker should have been purged with the rest of his clan decades ago. Or have you forgotten what things were like when the Caer were around?"

"I remember," Lea growled.

It had been open war between their kind and the humans, and the hunters had become the hunted as both the church, and vampire hunter organizations rose to meet the brutality of House Caereleum. All of the houses had suffered the consequences of House Caereleum's recklessness.

Lea's own house, House Leclair, had been among the lesser houses that had been eradicated at the hands of the church.

"Can we just get this over with?" Elliot asked. "I don't even have to breathe and I still can't get the stench of this place out of my nose."

"Come on," Lea said as they filtered into the abandoned motel.

It didn't take them long to reach the door to the room that Nox was known to reside within, but as Lea moved to knock loudly upon it, Erec opted for a more forward approach.

A swift kick splintered the door in as he entered with his gun in a two-handed grip, but pointed slightly towards the floor.

Lea grit her teeth but what was done was done now and she quickly spilled into the room after Erec as they scanned for sign of Nox. Elliot took up the rear as he entered behind the other two.

____

Nox was there. He had heard them coming, but he had made no attempt to hide. None at all. He knew as soon as he had painted that sigil that things would begin to move quickly. The Caer had no regrets. That night had been joyous, the girl delicious, the play with the other kindred entertaining and novel. He'd enjoyed every second of it, and now was the time to reap the consequences and rewards. He was there, his back to them, shrouded in white, arms still stained with the gore of nights past.

His rampage hadn't stopped. Nox had made his patron proud. Over the past few days, he'd done much around the Quarter and surrounding areas. Breaking into homes, smashing human children to paste, leaving men and women alike in shambles, if left alive at all. Without rising from his desk, he craned his head back, only slightly, to look at them with pale blue eyes, long dead but alive with malice and glee.

The floorboards under the party groaned precariously with age...

"Welcome to my home. What can the last of the Caer do for you fine folks?" Mocking, prideful, and condescending was his voice, with a power behind it that had once had the entire city trembling, as if the Patriarch of old was there.

____

"What do you think?" Erec asked. "Audric sent us to bring you in. You're fortunate he didn't just call a blood hunt on your ass. You can thank Sebastien for that."

Lea was seriously questioning the wisdom of sending Erec along for this, but standing there looking at Nox old memories of bloody carnage rose to the forefront of her thoughts. The question had to be asked, and she cared not to wait until they got back.

"Did you kill those girls?" Lea asked.

Elliot on the other hand still had his arm to his nose.

"Can we fucking not do this here?" he asked.

___

Nox turned around fulling, standing, but with absolutely no hostility radiating off of him. Malice, pride, all of that, yes, but he seemed so relax. For a blood soaked giant. "I killed...a girl, yes. Red hair. Young. Beautiful. A few children as well, some of them might've been women-folk as well. Some men too. A few elderly ones. If I had to count...possibly...eight women. This past week. Why? Did you know some of them?" The smile slowly spread across his lips. Hungry. Ancient. Perfect.

Like a shark.

"As for coming with the three of you, I'd really rather not. I am comfortable here, and none of you have the station to order the head of a Great House around the city, like some kind of cattle." Slowly, he took off his coat, folding it, placing it on his desk. "If Lord Audric wishes to have an audience with me, his greatness can come here, to the house of Caer." An indicating hand, showing the run down, leaky, moldy, abandoned hotel.

____

"No offense, but your house smells like a sewage dump," Elliot remarked around the sleeve of his jacket.

Meanwhile, Erec seemed far less amused by Nox's words, nor did he seem to have much inclination to fence words with the fucker. Audric had sanctioned the use of lethal force should he resist being brought in, and was rather vague in the department of what constituted resist.

"This son of a bitch has lost his mind," Erec growled as he raised his gun up.

Lea caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and she moved with a start to grab his wrist to stop him.

"Erec hold on-"

She was too slow as he squeezed off several rounds at Nox.

"Fuck me," she hissed.

There was nothing to be done for it now as she drew her own side-arm and followed suit.

____

The slugs hit him far harder than any of them would've guessed them would, even Nox himself. The proud Caer went down hard, knocking into his old, water warped desk and crashing through part of it, slumping to the ground, his back propped up by the ruin of his furniture, his long raven hair folding into a curtain around his face.

Already a pool of black blood, not his own but that from his victims began to spread across the floor, adding a rusted, oxidized smell to the rank scent of damp and mold and rot. After a second, Nox didn't move. Nor after five, or ten. In fact, it looked like Nox wasn't going to move at all.

____

Erec hadn't expected anything less, really. He had executed his share of vampires over the years, but he knew decapitation was the surest way to ensure they didn't get back up again.

He drew his sword and approached Nox, before using the tip of it to lift Nox's chin to get a look at his face.

"Why didn't we just do that from the start?" Elliot asked. "Can we go now? Let's just take the head back and be done with it."

____

Nox felt the tip, felt the hardness of metal, but not the burn of silver. Not that that would've stopped what was about to happen. As soon as their eyes made contact, Nox woke up, hands wrapping around the intruder's neck, lifting Erec off the ground like he was paper mache. "But that wouldn't hardly be as fun!" The Caer roared, mouth opening impossibly wide to take a large section out of the man's lower cheek, jaw and neck, ripping flesh and bone from their right places before tossing the hunter's tattered body through a nearby wall, eyes now alight with the pale blue shimmer that had made his family so recognizable and feared for years prior.

Truth was, Nox had no idea how hurt the other hunter was, and he didn't care. This was entertainment, this was freedom. For the first time in a long time, Nox wasn't afraid of pursuers, or wrath, or being found. He was thriving on it. He turned to the other two, fangs and talons flashing, tanking any retaliatory gun fire or otherwise dodging it as he closed in on the other male. For his size, Nox was as fast as any vampire, but speed was not his forte.

____

"Oh shi-" Elliot broke off as he backed up out of the room.

He threw open his coat and drew a pair of knives from either side of his waist as his back hit the wall. He hadn't time enough to do much more than angle the blades upwards to skewer Nox with his own forward momentum.

Lea moved quickly, her gun on Nox's back as he moved past, but she dare not take the shot for risk of hitting Elliot if the bullet went through.

Instead she lowered the gun, and fired a single round for the back of Nox's knee.

____

Nox stumbled and fell but somehow managed to twist himself as he did so, still being stabbing through the shoulder. The pain was glorious. Ironically, he hadn't felt this alive in so long, years, decades, half a century. As he went down, this time not faking his reaction to draw them into an ambush, the vampire ripped both claws down Elliot's front.

One of these wounds wouldn't prove dangerous, as it quickly exited out his side, barely grazing him. The other however raked diagonally across his front, from shoulder, chest, the stomach, exiting out the top of his thigh, Nox doing his best to topple Elliot as much as he could in the process, hoping to pull him down to finish the job.

He was going to eat so well after this.

____

Elliot spewed an array of expletives as he wound up sprawled on the floor, with a frenzied vampire half on top of him. Blood seeped into his shirt from the ragged tears down his front torso, but already the wounds where knitting closed once more. He tried to scoot backwards, kicking at Nox to try and knock him back so Lea could get a clear shot.

____

The Caer took a kick, gladly, his head snapping back as his hand closed about the ankle, twisting it and pulling back with lightning speed and titanic strength, feeling tendons and bones snap under the pressure, tearing loose. Nox tossed the dismembered appendage to the side as well. He noticed that this took far longer than it should have for a human body to break. Then he saw the wounds re-closing, regenerating. Nox then scrambled back to his feet, as quick as his injured leg could do so, releasing kick after kick at Elliot's chest and head, the weaker parts of the room shaking under his continued assault.

"Die you traitor, you lapdog! Shatter and DIE!!!" Nox screamed, blood and bits of bone and teeth flying as he smashed his booted heel into the quickly worsening mess over and over, the girl now completely lost to Nox's attention.

____

Elliot's struggles turned to screams as the bones of his ankle fractured, and tore through the flesh. He continued to scoot backwards, rolling over to crawl away from Nox, only to be kicked over again. He tried to ward his head from Nox's assault, and some part of him heard Lea's gunshots as she rounded the corner, emptying bullet after bullet at Nox, but it was aid that came too late as his skull caved in, leaving his body twitching and spasming.

The look in Lea's eyes as she looked from Elliot to Nox was one of horror. Her nerve broke and the gun fell from her hands as she stepped back, raising her palms up in a submissive display. She wanted no further part of this.

"Please."

The word was a whisper upon her lips.

____

Most of her shots rang true. Two almost hit his long dead heart and one tore through Nox's neck, once again causing him to stumble before twisting towards her now, covered head to toe in his own dead blood and that of his two previous kills. With eyes wide, blazing blue against a sea of red and black, he began to walk towards her.

If she backed up, he'd follow. If she tried to run out the building, he'd do his best to catch her of course. However, unknown to her, is that if she made it out the door, the Caer would let her go free today.

____

"This was Erec's doing," she told him. "I have no quarrel with you."

Her back hit the wall, and the only way out would be forward, through him. Her eyes flicked to the gun on the floor where she had dropped it, regretting her decision as Nox drew closer. Her fingers itched to reach for the knife at her side, but she dare not move, lest Nox be upon her as he had been Elliot.

____

"Aye, it was, and I believe he has paid his price. As has the other one." He reached his hand out to her, palm open. "However, it is time you pay your price as well. None step on the toes of the Caereleum and get to walk away unscathed. Especially in their home." His frenzy was kept at bay, for now. His voice once more a swarm of condescension and pride, but safety as well. Alluring. A thrall might be useful, though he'd never tried such a thing on a fellow undead. He'd have no idea if it worked, but still, he poured his family's fel energies into every word.

"You also shot me, several times. It hurt very much. Don't you think I deserve...retribution?"

____

Lea wasn't a young vampire as far as vampire standards go, but neither was she a pointedly powerful one either. The weight of Nox's words pressed down on her psyche through the fear.

"I..."

She started to move to take his hand, before she realized what it was he was doing. With realization came hesitation, and confusion.

"I..."

She blinked and shook her head trying to keep him out, but the enthrallment worked its course, slowly but surely. Confusion gave way to intrigue as her fear dissipated with the offer his hand.

She reached out and took it.

____

Even to the standards of an undead, his hand was cold, the blood caking it frozen, cracking under the weight of her hand like a crimson egg shell. "That's it. Now, what is your name, small one?" He never stopped adding to the enslavement. Hypnotism was one thing. Normal thralls were another. The Caer marked their thralls with a psychic link as well as making them nearly brain dead when the link was activated. Completely willing and devoid of any feeling, mental or physical. Like a switch. And then they buried it deep down, until it was re-activated.

"Of course you'll still have to suffer. Not as much as them, not nearly as much. I hope this doesn't break your trust in me." He whispered through a shark's smile, as he snapped her index finger back like a twig.

____

"Lea... of house Leclair," she whispered. "Forgive me..."

The crack of her finger was met with a pained cry as she dropped to her knees, clutching her wrist with her other hand. She dare not try to pull her hand away, lest she incite his wrath further.

"Please, my Lord," she begged.

It was not fear of further pain that drew the words from her. No, it was some overwhelming need to seek his approval. To mend the wrong she had committed before the Lord of House Caeruleum.

____

He'd snap another before dropping her hand. "Stay there for a moment," is all Nox would say before turning his back to her, completely exposed, as he went into his room to get his coat, making sure to wipe his hands off first. He also grabbed one of Elliot's knives. He didn't put it on however, instead, returning to her out in the hall way. He was confident that she wouldn't have.

He now knelt in front of her, assuming she had not risen. If she had, he'd ask her to simply "sit back down". Then, he took her good hand this time, however, this time by the wrist, rolling up her sleeve. "I'll be marking you now. This will be the last pain I inflict on you, I swear this on my house. Afterwards, it will be respect and kindness, perhaps even love. Now, roll up your sleeves and expose your flesh to me."

____

The second break was met with another cry followed by a mewling whimper as she tightened her hold over her own wrist with the effort it took to not try and stop him.

As he moved away, she cradled her hand to her chest but until the bones were set, it would not heal properly. She continued to hold it there as he returned and took her uninjured hand in his own.

She didn't understand what he was doing, but she made no move to stop him. When he let her wrist go she did as he asked of her, rolling up the sleeve on her other arm. Her hands shook as she turned them over and offered her wrists out to him.

____

It was over quickly. But the pain would be excruciating. The knife peeled away flesh on her arm until her bone was revealed, the radius to be particular. While using his free hand to keep her flesh from resealing too quickly, once more Nox made use of his enemy's knife, carving the sigil of his house into her very skeleton.

Once he was done, he knew the bone and her arm as a whole would heal. He didn't care. The mark wasn't anything physical, it was psychological in nature. Once more he'd wipe his hands, this time on her clothes before rising and re-donning his much beloved leather duster. "Rise up, Lea Leclair. You are mine now, and you are a part of my house. You know have my ear for council and my might for protection. You'll play as a spy for me, report to me. I'll be moving around a lot, so I won't be easy to find. But you'll manage. Is that understood by you?"

Nox was eager to leave. If they'd sent one party of hunters after him, another might not be too far off. He was confident in himself yes, but creating true thralls out of his own kind took too much out of him for prolonged struggles. Doing his best to make sure he looked his best, he awaited her response, his back once more to hers.

____

There weren't words to describe the inhuman shrieks that filled the building and spilled into the streets outside, but anyone near enough to hear them was quick to hurry on their way, far from the decrepit building that housed Nox.

She doubled over as he released her, clutching at her forearm and trying to breath through the fire of agony in her arm as it began to slowly fade beneath the healing flesh. A minute more and nothing remained of the wound except the blood staining her hands and arm.

The memory of it would linger on long after though and she nodded her head.

"I understand," she whispered.

She left a bloody hand print on the wall as she regained her feet.

"What would you have them know of... this."

She waved her bloody arm towards the mess that was Elliot's body.

____

"Tell them. Tell them that you ran, or escaped, whatever you choose. Don't tell them you were let go though. Thats the last thing I want them to think, that I've gone soft." Satisfied with his appearance, one grows good at grooming yourself blind when you physically can't use a mirror, he strolled out of the hallway and outside the hotel. For now, Nox would leave her there, to recover her will and strength. Once he was far enough away, he'd begin to howl with hideous laughter.

He wouldn't miss this place.
 
as written by Emperor Jester, Lorelia, and Tiko

Ever since his exodus from the zone, nothing had compelled him to return to the Phantom Quarter. In the end, Nox had been convinced that nothing ever would. But tonight, he was being sought. He could feel it in the air, smell it on the wind. The porcelain giant with obsidian hair had decided to be tactical. If they wanted to find him, let them hunt through the worst dregs of the city, the alleys and ruins that had been his home for fifty years. Nox may have hated the Phantom Quarter.

Loathed it.

Despised it.

Wished to burn it.

But he knew it. All the labyrinthine street turns, dead ends, and catacomb breaching tunnels. It was in those corridors he waited, below the surface of the zone, a freezing shadow in the night, invisible except for the eyes. Like soulless blue lights, piercing and cold, he waited for Emily and whoever was with her...

____

Alexandre had let Emily out of his sight.
And it had been a mistake.

She had been hungry. Very hungry. Her eyes were dark orbs in an almost skeletal face, the glowing veins beneath the surface dimming as she died. She was allowed to feed, he had told her. But he knew it would’ve given her some sick satisfaction if she could manage a little longer. She had gone longer before, much longer the last time she’d been sentenced, to the point where her body began to freeze and she could only be awakened by – quite literally – a blood bath. It wasn’t an understatement to say that she though it the worst experience of her dead life. An experience she had no wish to repeat. And so, she had fed.

There was to be absolutely no attention drawn to this kill. When it was decided that the Phantom Quarter was to be their area for tonight after careful consideration of the signs, there could be nothing more perfect. No one noticed the disappearances here. Or, no one cared. The place was ripe with death and decay and dead things decorated the place - full of bad blood.

Emily stumbled. Something that she hadn’t done in over a century. It startled her, making her reel which made her head swim in something that was toxic. Bad blood. Whatever she had consumed – it was poisonous.

She stood in the strange, sudden cold with the noxious wind playing about her. There was something else amiss. If she had turned, she might’ve seen the way to acceptance. The pitch black, curved entrance to the underworld. Perhaps two tiny globes, watching.

But Emily was beginning to panic. Her arms, pushed free of the floating white fabric of her dress were held before her; thin, white, malnourished things that were telling her that something was definitely wrong. The veins were a different colour. Not drastically. The glowing blue was still there, but it was seeping into purple close to the surface.

She opened her mouth to scream for Alexandre.

____

Nox was on her in a flash, attempting to shove something into her hanging mouth, something warm, pulsing with warm blood. The scent alone drove him crazy, and he was freshly fed. At the same time, a hand would push her, or almost carry her, into an opposite tunnel.

"Eat, girl, eat, you are skin and bones." A taunt, followed by an emotional "Do you remember me, girl? The one with blue eyes, who stole your prey, your red haired girl."

If she hadn't already taken the torso into her own mouth, fangs, and arms, Nox would once more try and force it on her, going so far as to pet at Emily's hair, whispering soothing, encouraging words.

____

The hot scent of fresh blood struck Lea as she dropped down in front of the darkened tunnel that descended into the catacombs. The decrepit mausoleum hadn't seen care in what looked like centuries, and the door was little more than a crumbled mess. The walls were etched in graffiti and the stench of the Phantom Quarter was thick on the night air.

It was perhaps that which kept her own blood lust from overtaking her at the smell of blood, and she reigned it in as she focused on the revolting smells that assaulted her senses. She was fast regretting having not fed recently.

It would normally have been all but impossible to locate Nox within the massive labyrinth of tunnels that intertwined their way beneath the city, but she sensed he was close as she disappeared into the blackness with only a single glance back to ensure she hadn't been followed.

As Lea rounded the tunnel where Nox was holding Emily, she took a step back and bowed her head.

"Forgive the interruption, Lord Caer," she said swiftly. "I came with urgent news."

None of the fear and dazed befuddlement of their earlier encounter remained upon her, but Nox's influence had rooted in deep through the passing of the days as their psychic connection grew stronger. She was Lea, in personality and memory, and yet she wasn't. The woman she once was had died the night Nox had carved his house sigil into her arm, and some unseen force had come to inhabit her being as it drove her actions.

____

A snarl like a savage cat had broke through her mouth at being touched, and a dark, swirling mist enveloped her. A clumsy, drugged up attempt at hiding. All struggle ceased as she caught her first, tantalising waft of good blood.

She didn’t hear his words. She knew who it was.

Resistance was difficult. The tunnel smothered her. And with a final, growling gasp, she snatched at the offering and drank like a human who had just walked miles through the desert.

There was little too it. She was hungry. And crazy.

Another person. More words. They didn’t mean anything to her.

The next interruption was sure not to be forgiven.

The world shook and dust rained down on them after the crash of a small meteor that came hurling down from behind the clouds. A gust of wind howled through the area, whistling into the tunnels, sweeping back the hairs on their heads, and washing the scent of decay over them all with gag-worthy potency with a flap of two, gigantic waxy wings.

The wings folded into non-existance with an odd sound, then their owner rose from his crouch in the crater he had just created to stare at the building before him. A hulk of a figure with thick limbs and icy eyes. He inhaled deeply as he stood, filtering easily through the dust and decay, and gore. He listened; tilting his right ear slightly towards the darkness beyond the doorway.

As her eyes shot open with the ground’s shudder, Emily had released the torso, having drained it mercilessly. She smiled at the silence, eyes alight with renewed mischief.

Spiders began to emerge from every crevice with her dazed delight; both from being disturbed and due to her own calling.

____

Nox withstood the tremors with ease, not even paying them mind. He recognized that scent, and he did not like it, but nor did he fear it. There was nothing living or dead in this world that the last Caer feared now that his father was long destroyed. "Well, spit it out, child. We may have company soon by the smell of things, and I'd rather hear it now than later." His voice was rough, but not wholly impolite. Lea had served him well so far, acting as a spy and scout for the movements of the houses that had allied themselves as traitors, and he had grown to feel a certain fondness for the girl.

Like the kind of affection a mortician shows a cadaver.

"Oh, and by the way, I do hope you enjoyed your snack, girl. There are plenty more of them if you listen to what I have to say. And is that who I think it is?" The way he spoke demanded answers, ancient and authoritative. Nox had been growing stronger lately, in every sense of the word. His constant feeding and bloodshed had unfettered the reins of his abilities, both supernatural and physical.

____

"Audric has called a bloodhunt for you," Lea answered as instructed. "Every vampire in the city is out searching for you."

her eyes raised up to search the tunnels as spiders began to scurry their way across the rock. She smelled it too, that they weren't alone, but unlike Nox she didn't recognize the scent that filled the tunnel.

"Lord Caer?" she inquired.

There wasn't fear in her, only uncertainty as to what he wished of her in the moment.

____

Emily made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a snarl. Her fangs were bared, still frenzied by the blood.

“It’s been a long time. Maybe you’re imagining things, could be any a bounty hunter…” she whispered darkly, her eyes on Lea as a spider began to descend on its silvery thread, falling between them. Its twisting silhouette cut her face into pieces.

“’Lord Caer’” she added with hushed amusement.


Outside, Alexandre had no urgent want to enter the tunnels below. He didn’t like the position it put him in. Yet, still, he would follow if they didn’t emerge soon. And they were there, he was sure. There was the familiar draw to Emily and the voices and scents. He couldn’t many out any words from this distance, and his memory was not sharp enough to make any certain connections. His hand rose to scratch at his temple, as though it would refine his senses.

Alexandre didn’t believe he had much to worry about. A single Caer, once mighty in their house, now lone. The mausoleum rose before him in its terrible, yet still proud state as he approached; a victim but a survivor.

____

"Do not worry Lea, it'll be nothing for us to worry about." With sharp eyes, almost piercing the soul if any present possessed such a thing to pierce, Nox would turn to Emily, fangs set in a half snarl and a half smile. "Listen now. You know who it is. I can smell it on you, I can smell everything about you, you insensate, insanity riddled git." It wasn't that the Caer was losing his temper.

Far from it.

He was excited. If it was who he though it was, and if they were just as...interesting as everyone had said during the war, then Nox wasn't taking any chances. "Hold my coat." He'd say, moments before throwing it on Lea like she was some kind of coat rack.

____

"As you say, Lord Caer," Lea answered.

The removal of his coat left a pang of something going through her that she couldn't quite put her thoughts on. Was it fear?

____

Emily snapped her teeth at Nox; probably far too close to his face, considering she quite liked hers as it was. Her sharp teeth came together with a satisfying sound and she growled quietly.

“That was unpleasant” she said, making it clear that she had no intent of playing seriously. “I thought Lords were supposed to have manners.”

As his coat went flying towards his companion, Emily fashioned him a new one out of shadows. They hung about him as his real one did, their incorporeal swirling seeming to dance in a non-existent breeze. The hems then grew, reaching the ground and pooling about their feet, trickling and growing as the shadows ran towards the exit; cleansing their way.

She made to step away, to follow her illusion.

“Nothing to worry about” Emily purred, looking keenly at Lea.

Alexandre was curious above all else. What was to gain out of such a return? And working alone, surely, the Caer was to meet the same sticky end in no time.

His almost perfectly square jaw was set as he scanned the landscape which was apparently deserted, his hands poked out of his tailored jacket; huge but completely relaxed. His clothes had been ruined by the flight but they somehow still managed to hold on to some of their previous finesse. Or perhaps that was just the way he wore them.

Alexandre was half way through rolling up his sleeves, lips pursed to whistle, when he saw what looked like smoke creeping towards him. But no, this strange substance was familiar – Emily’s. The shadows came to him; they curled about his ankles like a cat greeting its beloved owner.

“Ah” Alexandre said. His voice boomed with vibrations that rattled all sorts. “A regal hiding place.”

Although what he said was indeed a sort of joke, there was no amusement in his tone, just that usual lifeless drone.

____

"I assume that was meant to be funny, or endearing. However, it lacks any such qualities, in my own opinion. What do you think, Lea? Was it cute or entertaining? I can hardly tell with that one." He knew the shadows would lead their guest to them. Nox had heard his words. They had tickled him somewhat, deep down, and for all his pride, the Caer would call back, making his voice mocking, almost like a song. "For wherever I trodden, the world is blessed with fear, and those below my heel are crushed under the weight of my power!~"

Nox seemed almost jovial. Recently revelations had brought more happiness to the nosferatu than anything he could remember in recent years. These past months had been amazing. The cold night would come again for the city, with the Caeruleum standing high above all others, on a frozen throne of corpses and blood.

Not only did Nox have a thrall, and allies galore, but soon he would sire his first spawn. He would be the new Patron Caer. His house would rise. "Come and find the lord of all things cold!" A winter roar, like cruel wind and ice against a soft face, booming with power and dread.
 
as written by Tiko, Lialore, and Emperor Jester

"She mocks you, my Lord," Lea growled.

She couldn't shake that stab of fear through her though. It wasn't fear of Emily, or Alexandre. No it was fear of Nox and the memories of the night he had enthralled her.

The memories themselves remained free of her immediate conscious thought, but their lingering impact could be found within the charged rush that filled her long dead heart at the possibilities that lay before them.

The possibilities of what Nox could, or would do to those who displeased him, or who got in his way.

____

Alexandre was not such a fan of words or theatrics, but he would try his best to keep up. Something slipped from his mouth that might’ve been a humorous snort. He was not the type to be fazed. But he felt a surge of what reminded him of adrenaline as he settled on a plan that hopefully meant he didn’t have to compromise and ‘enter’ those disgusting hollows.

“Very well” he said.

And with that, those two, huge – obnoxiously large, even – wings sprouted from his back. They seemed to fold out from his shoulder blades, though that seemed absurd by the size of them. With a single, leathery shake which sent the remnants of his shirt fluttering to the ground, and a grimace, Alexandre launched himself into the sky.

Below; Emily fell silent as the words faded. The continuation to Nox's almost-tune died on her lips as she waited for the footsteps that wouldn’t come.

Above; an almighty crash as something plummeted through the remains overhead.

Her natural instinct was still to take flight. And she did; away from the destruction about to take place, whether by the hands of Nox or her own kin, she trusted neither.

But it was unlikely that she’d make it. She’d be clawing her way out of the wreckage too.

As speeding towards them with incredible force, seconds from impact, was what looked like a meteor big enough to cause colossal damage. However, this meteor hadn’t been on course for long. Yet despite imperfect aim was enough to bring down the tunnels in that held the strange gathering.

____

Nox would look out from the sewer entrance and whistle, the light shining on him, casting a long flashing shadow in the tunnel behind him. "Lea, keep an eye on her. I have plans for Emily. Is that understood?" While waiting for a response, the Caer would unfasten his tie, folding it into his pocket, making as few creases as possible. "It looks like I must remind this peon why my family managed to take control of this city from the council for nearly twenty years."

Nox would soar, or so it seemed. In reality, he had leaped upward, through the sewer entrance and high into the air, nearly thirty feet. With a primal roar and a fist empowered by fel energies, he's strike against the incoming winged being. Whatever the fellow vampire was expecting, this was well beyond it. Nox was almost back to full strength, and he put everything behind this punch. Overclocked his entire body into one brutal swing.

Alexandre would fly downward, crashing hard into the concrete below, while Nox seeming to drift down like a feather. "Come now, bastard-son. I remember you being much stronger fifty years ago, when your lot sided with traitors and whores." The grin on Nox's face was palpable, and beyond arrogant.

____

Nox would look out from the sewer entrance and whistle, the light shining on him, casting a long flashing shadow in the tunnel behind him. "Lea, keep an eye on her. I have plans for Emily. Is that understood?" While waiting for a response, the Caer would unfasten his tie, folding it into his pocket, making as few creases as possible. "It looks like I must remind this peon why my family managed to take control of this city from the council for nearly twenty years."

Nox would soar, or so it seemed. In reality, he had leaped upward, through the sewer entrance and high into the air, nearly thirty feet. With a primal roar and a fist empowered by fel energies, he's strike against the incoming winged being. Whatever the fellow vampire was expecting, this was well beyond it. Nox was almost back to full strength, and he put everything behind this punch. Overclocked his entire body into one brutal swing.

Alexandre would fly downward, crashing hard into the concrete below, while Nox seeming to drift down like a feather. "Come now, bastard-son. I remember you being much stronger fifty years ago, when your lot sided with traitors and whores." The grin on Nox's face was palpable, and beyond arrogant.

____

Lea was hot on Emily's heels, nimbly taking the stone with the grace of a feline to match the mobility of her quarry. She caught the glimpse of movement overhead as Emily took to the ceiling, but she daren't spare her more than a moment's glance, as she focused instead on avoiding the cascade of rocks threatening to bury her beneath their weight.

It wasn't her life she feared for though... no she feared failure in Nox's eyes. She faired the inability to pursue Emily any further should she become trapped.

With her senses afire she was tuned to every crack and crumble, every shift of earth overhead as Emily ran along the ceiling. She needn't her eyes to keep a fix on Emily's location as she navigated the tunnel in her wake.

As Emily dropped from the ceiling, she would be met with the fierce gleem of Lea's own eyes as she stepped into Emily's path.

"The Lord Caer has not yet granted you leave from his audience," Lea warned heavily.

____

"I accepted defeat for fifty years. Pride demands I make things right. I suppose you wouldn't understand that concept though. Tell me, are you still bowing before that fat cow? Does she make you come to her bed with your pretty little wings all a flutter with nervousness?" Clenching and unclenching the fist he'd just dealt the blow with.

"You've gotten better at defending yourself, little bird. Titus used to run circles around all of you. Pity he isn't here now. Or Avacyn. Or Augustus! Or any of them! Because you traitors sided with humans! Filthy, fucking humans because you all were too weak and scared to defeat us on your own!"

His rage was palpable, visibly so. The Caer's eyes were practically headlights as his guise began to chip away, revealing the horrible monster underneath. None of the beauty or grace was left in Nox in a matter of seconds, instead just a dark, eldritch being of raw, ancient power. "I'm going to hang your wings from my mantle as a trophy for the entire city to see. But not tonight."

____

The most offensive piece of Nox’s latest drawl was the part where he referred to Alexandre’s wings as ‘pretty little’ things. On hearing it, the large vampire frowned, clearly disgruntled. He flapped his wings yet again to keep him afloat and perhaps prove a petty point, setting another gale upon the Caer.

Alexandre found it easy to ignore the rest of the bragging and the impoliteness. He was honestly extremely interested. He had never met vampires quite as intriguing as the Caer’s, it was a shame their strain was completely intolerant.

“Not tonight?” Alexandre questioned, continuing to act unfazed by the eerie theatricality and the uncensored horror of the creature. “That makes one think you have bigger plans. Do enlighten me.”



In the dark tunnels, Emily watched Lea with predatory longing as her fangs and claws lengthened. She purred.

“I hope he granted you such a pleasure.”

Emily paused for only a moment, collecting the energy to launch. She did, with immense force, taloned hands reaching for Lea’s throat with the intent of burying her beneath the rubble that had just failed the task.



Alexandre’s brows furrowed for a second, the second in which it had took Emily to attack. He could feel it. The adrenaline made his veins burn brighter.

“Perhaps your plan should be to help that lovely disciple of yours” he said, slightly amused.

____

"Lea will be fine without my help. She was a Kindred who was brave enough to face me in combat. Like you. And her fate was a cruel one, as yours will be." A feral grin spread across those horrible features, ones normally so handsome and fetching. All that was left right now was the sharpness of his nose, cheeks, and chin. Hard angles with horrible edges, and eyes that shone like infernal ice caught in the moonlight.

Even beneath the beautiful white coat, muscles tensed and relaxed rapidly, as if electricity were pumping beneath his skin instead of thick, black ichor. Raw power was surging through Nox. So much so that his regeneration could barely keep up with the damage his own muscles were doing to his body. "I suggest you take that girl and leave. We can continue this later. I've been patient enough in my revenge to wait half a century for you and the rest of the Elder Houses to deliver your heads to me. A month or two more will be nothing."
 
as written by Ronin and SerenaBloom

They came into the city at night, sticking to the alleyways and shadows. Rand hadn't allowed them to shift until they were in the Quarter. He wouldn't sacrifice the speed and dexterity of their wolf forms until he knew they were out of sight from the law. They could outrun cops and paladins ... but on four legs, not two.

The Quarter was a good place to start. Decrepit. Uncared for. In a way, it was Rand's favorite part of the city. There were no rules here, no law or order. It was closest thing to the wildlands behind city limits - only safer.

They emerged from an alleyway, naked and bipedal. Rand had been temped to stay a wolf for this part of the ordeal, but decided against it. Best to get used to walking on two legs before they entered the civilized parts of town.

"We need clothes," he looked over his shoulder at Claude. There were no shops or merchants here, only vagrants. Whatever they got was sure to be filthy, but it was better than nothing. "Spread out. Find people our size. Look for coats and jackets."

____

Claude nodded silently, making his way silently and stealthily through the shadows. He had quickly picked out two mendicants, standing around a fire burning in a trash bin and quietly stepped up behind them. With hardly a sound, Claude struck them in the back of the head, incapacitating them. He gave a silent signal to Rand to approach as he started disrobing the two unfortunate people.

____

"Good work," Rand replied. He jogged over to Claude and stripped one of the hobos. The cargo pants fit alright, though the shirt was a bit tight. The jacket, however, was much too small.

"Need something bigger." he gruffed. The alpha scanned the ruined streetway, sensitive ears picking up footsteps around the corner. Heavy.

The Garoux followed the noise and found a large-ish vagrant trudging along the sidewalk, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was wrapped in a black, grimy duster.

"You." Rand called out.

The hobo turned, eyes drooped. "Wha?"

"Give me your coat."

The man sniffed. "Man, I di'n do nuffi-"

Rand's fist connected with his nose. He yelped and crumpled instantly, blood cascading from his nostrils.

The alpha returned to Claude a moment later, threading his arms through the coat.

"We ready to move?"

____

Claude dressed in the man's shirt and pant's finding that they fit him rather well, minus the pant legs being about and inch too short. Surprisingly this vagrant had a pair of shoes in his possession. They were a bit worn but that helped them fit a little bit better.

Once dressed he turned to Rand, watching him attack another man passing in the street to acquire a coat. When he returned he nodded in response.

"We should move quickly, the less time we spend here the better."

____

"Once we get into the rest of the city, yes. But we're in the Phantom Quarter. We mine as well be invisible." Rand checked his pants and found a bent cigarette and pack of chewing gum. He threw them out. "We'll go to Cascastel first. Shithole of a neighborhood last time I was here, doubt it's changed much. Police won't be a problem." He looked up. "Remember - no shifting unless we have to. We want to be efficient, but we don't want to make so much noise that people start looking for us."

____

"Right. Let's get a move on."

Claude began making his way down the street with Rand by his side. Ever vigilant, he was keeping a look out for any possible trouble up ahead. Everything seemed clear as far as he could tell from sight, hearing and smell. It didn't seem there were any paladins in the area, just as they had thought.
 
as written by Script and Knosis

The room was dark, damp, and smelled of rot and decay. The cold bit down further than bone, and seemed to eat away at any happiness or hope that anyone could have in a place like this. There was very little light that peeked from the outside, and none illuminated inside save for the one candle that was lit on the makeshift table that was just a part of a broken door placed on top of a barrel. The metal of the two large pistols gleamed beside the candle, as well as several blades, a couple of which also gleamed with a slight crimson hue.

The building in question was unoccupied by any living human. Being on the destroyed part of the city made what Alek had to do quite easy. No one should be able to hear the cries of his victims when hardly anyone traveled to this part except desperate individuals. It made things easy to simply dispose of a body as well afterward.

The vampire stood silently, wiping down one of the silver blades with a cloth stained with blood already. His leather jacket laid neatly on top of an upturn bucket in the corner of the room. His prey was strapped to a sturdy chair, his arms, legs and chest all tied down. The Inquisitor's shirt had been stripped away, leaving him with no defenses from the freezing cold.

An expressionless voice broke the quiet of the room, his words clear and precise.

"I am going to give you precious few attempts to give me the answers that I require." He said. "This, is one of those attempts. Should you cooperate, what you just endured will not need to be repeated, along with multiple other unpleasantries that can be left unfathomed." He added, his golden hues glowing in the darkness as he turned to the Inquisitor. "Your god is not here to protect you. The darkness will not come for you. This is your final confessions before Death takes you. I am your only salvation."

Silence welled for a moment or two before the vampire spoke again. "Do you understand?"

Casimir’s expression remained neutral, his eyes cast down at the floor. “I understand…” he muttered. “But you, creature. You do not. You do not understand the Inquisition. I will not break. I will gladly suffer a thousand nightmares made flesh before I betray what I am.”

Slowly, weakly, he raised his head. His hair hung sodden before his eyes, wet with sweat and blood. His gaze was hollow. “What you seek is beyond your reach. Beyond your master’s reach. It is gone, creature. You will not have it.”

The old vampire snorted softly before gently placing the blade he had been cleaning down on the table with the rest of them. "I understand the Inquisition more than you may think, boy." He slowly made his way to his coat and started fiddling with the pockets. He pulled out a necklace with a pendant and pulled it over his head and neck, tucking it into his shirt. "I once thought the same as you. A very long.. Long time ago.." He added, in more hushed tones as he recalled days far gone.

He returned to crouch before the imprisoned man, his gaze looking up into the Inquisitor's hollowed one. He sighed and pulled out the pendant once again and let it hang from its chain that was held loosely between his fingers. It was ancient by several centries, but it was a crest of the Church itself, a high ranked crusader. He then spoke in a tongue nearly gone from the world. "My sword and shield will rise and be blessed by the honor and glory of my God. Amen." He said, and repeated in common. It was the shortened version of the chant, the one most of the Crusaders had said before battle in his days. He let the pendant sway for a few moments more before tucking it back into his shirt.

"You are an abomination," Casimir spat, scowling. "Filth, not worthy of those words."

The man continued on, as if he had not heard the words of the Inquisitor. Was it that he had been use to them or whether or not he just simply didn't care anymore, it was questionable. But he remained unmoving staring up into the eyes of the captured man, unswayed.

"I was a lad when my family was taken by vampires. I was only spared because I had gone to fetch something for my father out in the shed and it had taken me some time to do so. But when I had returned, nothing remained of my family." He started his story telling. "The Church took me in then, and I swore my oath that day. I trained hard, and became one of the youngest to ever take up the sword against our enemies. As I grew a man, my determination had not faltered. My hatred had only grew for all the supernaturals, to the point I had begun to study them in more detail than my comrades had. Finding exact weaknesses of the target so that I had the advantage of battle I did." He explained further.

"I worked my way through the ranks, blood, sweat and tears, although rank did not matter. I was simply doing my utmost to fullfill a duty asigned to me by my God. Or so I thought it was my duty." He waved off the rest of that thought, pushing himself to sit on his bottom instead of crouching, relaxing his arms across his knees. "One day, on my 37th year, I was put in charge of a mission to carry out the beheading of a vampire that had become bothersome in the local area. My team was large enough to take on a single vampire, but since that was all we expected we didn't think that we'd be walking into a trap. I should have known something felt off as soon as we entered the court yard, as fear crept in on my men's hearts. Pride kept me from calling the mission over my suspicions. Even if it were only two minor vampires within the forsaken place, then we could have been more than prepared for it."

"My men ran like cowards and left me behind once they saw the vampire lord that resided in there. I was trapped there, alone, but I didn't want to go down without a fight. So I challenged the beast to a dual to the death between the pair of us. Surprisingly, the beast accepted a fair match, and kept his word. I fought him with all that I had, and gravely wounded the monster. But not before he made a fatal blow on me."

The man shifted and continued. "His words to me were the last things I remember as a human. 'You impressed me, mortal. And as your reward, I will give you a chance to try for my life again,' he had said. I woke up days later as something new. Sired by the very thing I had sought my entire life to destroy completely. But to add upon that, I was alone. My church had forsaken me, and as such, I thought my God had done so as well. I had no family, no friends I could turn to. What had I done to justify the punishment that God so deemed for me?"

"Any gift from the spawn of Tenebre is a curse in disguise." Casimir glowered up at Alek. "What it made you, you should have ended your new accursed existence in an instant. Eleu's light was not yet out of your reach. But you spurned the Wick. You accepted what you had become. You surrendered to the darkness, and so you do not deserve my pity. The only mercy you will be served is a final death."

The vampire raised a brow. "I tried." He stated. "Over. And over. And over. I tried to have my old comrades kill me, and none could. I tried taking my own life. I tried taking on other vampires, finding Vampire lords that couldn't end my own life. Werewolves and their filth. Years, centuries have passed and death has not come to find me, yet I have watched it take countless others." He slowly crossed over until he stood beside Casimir. "Why do you think that is?" He asked the man as he slowly stood.

"Perhaps you do not truly desire it, hellspawn," Casimir growled. "Perhaps you are deluded as well as abominable. Perhaps you are too weak to not cling to your miserable existence."

"Some may see it that way. But then again, I kept to the faith. I continued to take the lives of the hellspawn, as a crusader still. In the name of my lord, hoping to find some sort of.. Redemption. Salvation. But then, it came to me as clearly as a bell on a winter's morning.." Alek touched the man's shoulder. "Perhaps.. My lord had not forsakened me after all. Perhaps he had been telling me all along what he wanted me to be for him.." He smirked. "Only way I have been able to experience death is by taking the lives of those around me. Perhaps that was my calling. To be his angel of death. And I have come to the conclusion that the church here has become.. Rather corrupt in its ways. To allow vampires to exist in this city is a crime in of itself, but to treat werewolves as equals?!" He squeezed the man's broken shoulder slightly in his fury, letting go after only a moment. "Perhaps this entire city needs to be purged."

He walked behind the man, shaking his head sadly. "The rapture the book speaks about is upon you, boy. I can grant you your death swiftly should you cooperate. Give me the location of the flaming sword that the church has within its posession. I know it has not been destroyed, the church wouldn't just toss aside a weapon that could be used for the good of its cause."

"You are a fool." Casimir scoffed, letting out a choked, humourless laugh. "You have nothing to compel me with. My life is already forfeit. I will gladly suffer whatever torments you can assail me with in the name of God, before I betray the light."

The man raised a brow. "You have family within the city. That I can be assured of, comrades at the very least. I wonder how far gone your mind would still be after a turning? I was mindless for three days. So was my only daughter. How many countless innocents that would be taken by your hand before you come to your own again? Where you will find you can't die due to my gifts that I would bestow upon you for becoming a night child?"

Alek leaned down where his lips were a hair's breath away from the man's skin. "I can bestow you the gift of never finding death. Never reaching your God, never seeing your love ones again.. And I can release you, mindless, into the thick of those who you hold dear."

He let his words sit with the man for a moment. "Could you let yourself live for eternity living with that regret?"

A chill ran up Casimir's spine, but to his credit, it hardly showed in his face. "An Inquisitor has no family but for the order," he growled, like he was chanting a mantra. "An Inquisitor does not love. An Inquisitor is a tool of God, forged by the light, honed by the church. You will not find the weaknesses of men in my heart, creature."

"Except for making that tool completely useless to their God, to the church that weilded it, and forsaken by the light, you fool." The vampire's golden eyes lit up in his irritation. "You think your God will still accept you once you've become a child of the night? You will remain here, immortalized by your own foolish pride and damnation to watch as the world passes you by."

"I was once you." He said, leaning back to the man's shoulder. "I can break you. I can exploit every crack left in your soul. And I can make you endure it until the end of time itself. I'm giving you an option. Something I wasn't given."

"Though I may be damned," Casimir hissed, "I will not betray the order. You will not have the power you seek. God will see the truth of my actions. Just as He sees the truth of yours."

"We'll see." The vampire said, licking the man's neck before moving back towards the blades he had set to the side. "Your first opportunity has passed you by." He took ahold of the blade and went back to work of tormenting Casimir.
 
as written by Script and Knosis

The pale vampire watched the inquisitor silently, his golden eyes gleaming. His hunger was growing, and every moment that passed by was another moment Alek fought the inner beast to just end the human's life and restoring his own strength. Instead, he kept to his routine of causing Casimir excruciating pain and letting him rest enough so that he didn't go into shock. But, Alek did something else as well. Although the weather outside should have been chilled, and the building they were in shouldn't have had any heat at all, it would be as warm as a sauna bath house. Alek would offer food to Casimir, but never a drink. He'd show Casimir what it was like to have a thirst that was never quelled.

The man slowly stood up with a groan, and walked over to the bucket where he sat back in front of Casimir and shook his head. "It is something I've long pondered about the race of humans, even when I was one." He said quietly. "Most have the instinct to survive, run and flee when their life is in jeopardy. Promise everything if they could only live to see the next sunrise." He paused for a moment. "Except when men get ideals." He took out a thin vial with a clear liquid from his pocket and twisted in carefully in his fingers. "Then," He continued, "..they stand and try to survive the 'evil' they face for the good of whatever cause they've created this time or die as a martyr to the rest that follow them. In the end, isn't it just the coward's way to justify their existence when the end comes?" Alek asked quietly, looking up from the small glass bottle to peer up into Casimir's eyes.

He seemed to be measuring Casimir up, calculating in his head about something. Smirking he stood up again and went back into the shadows, where Casimir could hear the vampire working on something, but wouldn't be able to see. "For many years, I continued to hunt the creatures of darkness, wondering if one would finally be the end of my existance.. Only to realize too late that for every creature I killed, I grew stronger over time. Many of the night's creatures fear my name now, though most think me a myth." He murmured quietly, just talking idly as he worked.

"Do you desire... a round of applause?" Casimir croaked, his every word a strain upon his parched throat, not even having the strength to raise his head to speak. "You ought put an end to me now... if only that I might be spared any more of your banal platitudes." He laughed, though it seemed more a series of a bitter and aching gasps.

The man merely gave a slight chuckle. "That would be giving in to temptation and I'm more than happy to just let you suffer through my trivial story telling and my opinions." Alek murmured, returning from the shadows with nothing. "I desire only one thing right now. You see, I met up with your.. Caeruleum lord. The youngling was trying to tell me of grandiose plans of conquests, of subjugating you humans of the city." It wasn't all true, but a guess on Alek's part. Nox hadn't exactly spelled out his plans for the city to Alek, but most who wished like he did wanted the same thing. And Nox was no different.

"He is gaining power within the city. As you have most certainly learned, no doubt. Yet your chuch has done nothing to stop him? Nor to rid themselves of the vampire threat that lays in the city. Why is that?" It was a genuine question. Why had the church not disposed of the creatures of darkness. Many had been within the shadows of this city for an age, and not unknown to the church itself.

"You speak in ignorance, cur," Casimir rasped. "You will not sew doubt in me ... with lies and..." He took a breath, wincing at the strain of speaking. "You know ... nothing of the order's intent."

Alek raised a brow, truly shocked for the first time with Casimir's words. "You and your order truly do not know what is growing in the shadows... Do you." The words formed more of a statement instead of a question, as realization set in. A dark throaty chuckle began deep in Alek's barreled chest and slowly grew in volume until the vampire had to wipe tears in his eyes away.

"Are you so blind as to think this city isn't on the verge of destruction? Or have you turned your gaze away from the very ones you swear to protect for your own selfish desires?!" Alek asked, sounding half hysterical. "You! The people that follow and serve a God that smites the wicked and protects the innocent from the darkness, can't even see the danger that is laying in front of your very own doorstep.. Or is it that the monsters have already gotten into your home?!"

The Inquisitor scowled, clenching his fists. "The words of ... a monster will not sway my resolve," he growled. "Your bullshit is growing ... tiresome."

The man chuckled a bit more before leaning into the man's ear. "You Inquisitors should know most of all. Ignorance is indeed bliss, is it not.." He muttered. "Then let me enlighten you a bit more..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "The Caer Lord is preparing for a war. Mind you, you could say he's preparing for the war on the church, aye.. But why would he be waiting? If there are no more vampires in this city, there would be no allies for him to wait on, correct? He's gaining power, gaining influence in the shadows, his will is being obeyed, but not by the creatures he creates." He muttered.

"And then there is the fact, that.. I exist. And then there was the attack on the poor unfortunate souls for that one church.. Brutally murdered before service even began.. You've not found the culprit, but you and yours have your suspicion.. Do you really think the Caer Lord would have been so careless, so reckless to go to your back yard.. And feast on your people?" He let the questions sit for a moment. "Use your damned brain. You are suppose to ask these questions." He growled softly. "If I were 'bullshitting' you, we would not be here having this discussion. I would more than likely be in another town, killing another vampire."

"Isolated incidents," Casimir hissed. "Naturally the rise of... a Caer would provoke lone creatures that had ... lurked in shadow to gain confidence and come forward." He lurched forwards in another coughing fit, his throat burning.

The man smirked slightly and straightened up as he watched the suffering man. Folded arms across his chest, he pondered for a moment. "Tell you what." He said quietly. "I'll make you a deal. Its mostly beneficial on your end, if what I say isn't true." He said quietly. "Tell me the location of the flaming sword you took from the Caer lord and I'll let you go. You'll have all the information I have given you, plus more should you wish it. You can warn your brothers of the plan of the Caer, and that you had to tell me where the sword is located, so they'll most likely guard it more. I wouldn't stand a chance against your brothers, should what I say is not true, and there would be no harm or foul with you or your convictions, as you've protected the order from the darkness."

The man leaned forward to look Casimir directly in the eyes. "If what I am telling you is not true, then you would be a fool not to accept my proposal." The man gave no emotion away as he watched Casimir. "But if I am telling you the truth, then you get to watch first hand as your world crumbles to dust."

There was, for the first time since his capture, hesitation before Casimir responded. "That sword... was destroyed..." he lifted his eyes, grimacing at his captor's stare. "Even if ... it wasn't, my word and my mind... are rightly considered compromised... no telling what foulness you might work on my mind yet."

Was confirmation of a Caer's return worth the risk, though? Observations on the manor had revealed nothing thus far, but Casimir was all but certain that this creature would not have spoken of a Caer lord if there wasn't one. He'd no reason to. If he was freed he would have the opportunity to spur the order to action ... and he would be alive. For all his words, the prospect of survival was understandably appealing.

The vampire remained emotionless as he listened to the man's words, motionless after he let the silence fall. It was time to gamble. "I offer you a wonderful deal on your end, and you insult me by lying to my face." Alek said quietly, his voice toneless as he spoke. "You and I both know that sword still exists.." He muttered. "All that stands between you and your freedom is the location of this sword. A tiny thing in the grand scheme of things."

"Even if you fear what I have done to you, once you return to the church, they would be able to release you from my bonds either way." He shrugged slightly. "The choice is yours, Inquisitor. For very surely, if you refuse your freedom, death awaits you in the end. And for some of your brothers at the very least, once the Caer Lord finally makes his move to gain his revenge on this city."

A look of genuine frustrated confusion crossed Casimir's face, and he growled, shaking his head. "I tell you, monster, that sword is gone," he hissed. "We ... destroyed it."

It seemed that the Inquisitor truly believed his words to be true. "If - if such a thing still existed, it would ... it would undoubtedly be kept secreted where ... no agent of evil could reach it. Our own stronghold. Where neither ... you nor the Caer can reach."

The vampire raised a brow slightly. "And where is this stronghold?" He asked just as tonelessly.

"The Monastery of Saint Maria," Casimir answered with a humourless chuckle. The inquisition's monastery, located off the coast of Issunar on the aptly named Isle of Saint Maria, was where the inquisition's recruits were trained and where its Lutetian leadership resided. Entirely off-limits to anyone not a member of the inquisition, Casimir was confident that its walls and protectors would be sufficient to stave off any lone vampire's attempts to breach it.

Flames lit the golden hues of the elder vampire as he sat in silence for a moment more, watching the inquisitor to see if he spoke true. After a moment, he slowly stood straight and turned his back on the inquisitor, disappearing into the shadows behind Casimir. "As I have promised, I'll let you free." He said from behind the man. He would hear a blade being pulled off the table.

"Neither you... nor the Caer... will succeed," Casimir rasped, bracing himself in expectation of deception. "The light will ... prevail."

Casimir would hear the blade slice through flesh. "Perhaps." He said. "Perhaps not. It is not my decision to make, nor yours." He said quietly. "But.. You'll be rejected by the light soon enough." He returned to stand directly behind Casimir. Casimir would feel the man place his fangs on his flesh, piercing into his shoulder slightly. At the same time, he would feel the blade slice his shoulder and Alek's bloodied hand grabbing hold to the wound.

"Wh... what are you-" Casimir's eyes widened as realization dawned on him, and exhausted muscles found new strength as he began to thrash against his restraints. "No! Light burn you, no!" His voice cracked as he tried to yell, only the barest wheeze escaping instead. He tried to scream, but produced no sound.

Alek held firm. Firm enough to possibly leave bruises on the man's arm as his blood entered Casimir's wound, tainting the man with the curse he held himself. Alek drained him enough to weaken the man dramatically. He would not have the strength to crawl out of here tonight. He let go when he knew the process had been complete.

Alek pulled back to look at the man. "Now you'll know my curse as well." He said quietly.

A choking gasp left Casimir's throat, but that was all. His body went limp, and his vision faded. It was done. His vision faded. It was done.

The vampire let his powers falter for the first time in days, and the heat subsided slowly. He gazed down at Casimir, his golden hues aflame with a slight delight and.. Guilt. This man would undoubtedly suffer the same fate as he had. A fate he had not even wished on his worst enemies. He bent to slice the ropes that had bound Casimir to the chair, letting him fall the floor with thump. He then turned to gather his weapons and various other items and stored them away in his pockets.

"Should you wish to gain your revenge, my son... I'm sure you'll be able to find me." He said quietly as he turned to leave the unfortunate soul on the floor.
 
"Sir Durandet? It's DI Lavoie, here. From Delacroix. I've picked up an aura like the one I sensed at the Academy while doing a reading for another case. It's in the Phantom Quarter, close to Lupaix. I'm moving to investigate, but hell if I'm getting close to ... it, without church backup. Can I expect you?"

She'd made the call a while ago, now - given Savien her location, and settled in to wait. It had been while performing a reading for the Lupaix precinct that she'd sensed the cold, oppressive aura that still sent shivers down her spine just remembering it from the Delacroix investigation. Faint, distant, but unquestionably present. That she could sense it at all from so far away was telling of its potency. Colette brought her cigarette up to her lips and took a drag, closing her eyes for a moment and letting the smoke swirl before exhaling. The cold was getting worse; she would need to dig out her winter coat sometime this week. The thin red one she wore had been enough in the mild autumn cold, but with the chill of winter setting in, the wind was starting to cut through it as though it wasn't there. She shivered, shaking her head and rubbing her hands together for warmth.

A glance at her watch told her that the paladin should be with her shortly. The roar of a destrier on the distance told her it was imminent.

A Caer. That was what the Castellane boy had said. Wick knew it was a difficult pill to swallow, if it was true, but Sir Durandet was not a subtle man. She could tell that he was a man that hated lying, and the fact that he hadn't denied the claim spoke volumes in silence. Colette grimaced. If even half the stories about those creatures were true... she should be halfway across the city by now. But she wasn't. She was here, and she'd resolved to stick to that course of action. After her superiors had moved her off of the Hart case - no doubt the church's work - she'd been doing her own research into the decades-old vampire clan that had turned Lutetia into a battleground.

And the other day... the agonised shriek of a vanquished soul tearing across the city. Another horror story from the skirmishes come back to reality. The Order was all-but in a panic; they'd all sensed it. Many of them knew what it could mean.

Colette could only wonder how long the church hoped to keep this secret.
 
Written by Ronin and Script

The answer was, of course, that it couldn't. The atrocities of the Caer mounted daily: citizens killed in the streets, eaten alive. Children murdered in broad daylight. Families in their homes. A woman's very soul separated from her body and consumed. Rumors abounded, whispers hushed in the streets of an ancient evil, a terrifying darkness once-defeated, returned to finish its mission. The Caer Skirmishes were only fifty years ago; many still held memories the horrors inflicted on Lutetia during the Long Winter, of the fear and the anguish and the torment, shocking at first, but soon delegated to an unfortunate facet of daily life. Yes, the Caer secret was unraveling. The darkness was rising. The church could not hold it back from the public eye for much longer. Soon Nox would make his move and Lutetia would succumb to Winter once more, the coldest and darkest yet.

Unless, of course, Savien could stop it before it began.

The paladin's destrier roared up to Colette, tires screeching on the cobblestone. The knight dismounted and knocked-out his kickstand in one fluid motion, his plate-mail clinking as his boots hit the stone. He met Colette's look, her eyes reflected in the black fiberglass of his visor.

"How fresh is the trail?" His usually emotionless gruff held a certain edge to it. The knight walked around his bike and opened one of its storage units.

"It's not a trail," Colette answered, her own expression grimly stoic. "It's here. Not far, I don't think, although with an aura this strong it's hard to tell. I can't tune in for long without it getting ... unpleasant."

She turned to gesture up the road, stubbing out her cigarette on a wall with her other hand. "I can only imagine the headache it would give a better seer."

As she spoke, Savien unpacked equipment from his bike. First came a stock, grip, barrel - the bones of a gun. The paladin assembled it as she spoke, wracking a drum-clip into what looked like a cross between a missile launcher and a shotgun.

He looked up, following her finger into the filthy mists of the deep Phantom Quarter.

"Do you know how far away it is?"

Colette shook her head. "Not in specifics. Like I said, the aura is so strong that I don't have anything to use as a point of reference. If it were a human soul, and I could sense it this clearly, I'd be staring them in the face."

She took a deep breath, looking back across at Savien. "I'm going to have to go with you, to be able to direct you. I can give you a vague dir-"

"Inspector," Savien's head snapped up, his voice tinged in iron, "I cannot allow that." He wracked up his rifle - nearly the size of his entire upper body. "You've done well to bring me here, but I will not endanger your life for the sake of expediency." He stepped around his bike, gun cradled below his chest.

"You need to leave. Now."

"Sir Durandet, your target could be anywhere from a block to half the district away. It could move. If you want to be doing anything more than wandering aimlessly through the slums for the rest of the afternoon, you're going to need someone that can update you on its location." Colette narrowed her eyes and folded her arms. "I've no desire to needlessly place myself in harm's way, but as it stands, you need me. We both have a duty to this city, paladin. Not just you."

A small growled rippled from his throat, more frustrated than angry. She was making sense. It bothered him.

"This isn't some backstreet werewolf or drugged-up necromancer-"

"Don't patronise me, Durandet," Colette interrupted with a snap. "I know what we're up against. I've been reading up on the Caer since we spoke with the Castellanes, I know what they can do. Light, I can feel it." The inspector shook her head angrily. "I'm under no illusion that I can fight this thing, but I can find it."

She was right, and it agonized him. Bringing Colete was the tactical decision. Not for the first time, Savien found himself at the crossroads of duty and efficiency. Yes, she was an officer - a good one at that. But she was no paladin. She hunted criminals, not monsters. This was his burden to bear. His alone.

They locked eyes as she finished and Savien fell silent. He glared for a moment, his grimace disintegrating to a scowl and. finally. into a small, resigned frown. He exhaled and turned from her towards his bike.

"Are you properly armed?" The knight leaned his gun against the seat and unclasped his helmet.

Colette shifted her coat enough to display the holstered revolver at her side. "I'm armed, although if we're going by your standards..." she took a moment to give the monstrous weapon propped against the paladin's bike a pointed glance "...'properly' is a stretch. I have one enchanted clip. The rest is standard lead."

The knight tucked his helmet under his arm, head bowed. He muttered something under his breath, metal hand smoothing through his mess of unruly black hair. Then he stooped and threw his helmet on his bike seat, opening up another hatch on the machine's frame and digging.

He returned, eyes downcast. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable. In his left hand were two grenades - in his right, a vial of transparent brown liquid. He offered her the grenades. "You know how to use these, I hope." He drew a long breath. "Inspec..." He stopped. "...Colette."

He looked at her with his true eyes - a simple shade of burnished brown. His messy hair swooped above knit brows where a long scar carved along his forehead and joined a family of other such markings licking his cheekbones and stubbled jaw.

"If things go bad, you run," he was explaining, not commanding. His voice was unusually quiet. "You call your precinct and you call the Order and you don't stop running until you're safe with either of them. Okay?"

Meeting Savien's eyes, Colette couldn't help but wonder at how thoroughly human the man behind the helm looked. It was an odd thought to have - for what else would he be - but she had it all the same. She took the grenades with a silent nod, stowing them away.

"I think we both know that if things go bad, and it decides it wants me, running will be of little help," she said, her own voice solemn as speaking the words aloud reinforced that scenario as a possibility. "But I will, all the same."

He said nothing, nodding once with the humility of a man daily resigned to die.

All at once he brought the vial to his lips and downed it. He loosed a snarl and took a step back, head jerking. Colette would watch the veins in his face blacken, his skin paling. The knight growled in pain for a few seconds before his body returned to normal, his blood vessels retreating back under the skin. He put his hands on his knees and took slow, deep breaths.

"Right," he straightened and shattered the vial on the stone, "let's get on with it, then." He walked back to his bike, replaced his helmet, checked his gear. When he turned back to Collette, he was as before - a warrior made of metal and sweat and wrath. Unfeeling. Inhuman. A paladin.

"Today, the tide turns." He cradled his rifle and wracked the charging handle.

"Winter's lasted long enough."
 
As if fate had a twisted sense of irony, an onslaught of icy wind rushed down the streets to greet them. It would grow colder, the whipping breeze quickly escalating into a roaring torrent. But there would be something underneath the frosty air, a dark malignancy.

And then the voice, a thunderous rumbling whose bass seemed to reverberating through the ruined streets and up into the unfortunate pair's bones. "Oh, but good sir paladin, I am afraid you are mistaken."

A figure would appear then, coming down the street, seemingly shrouded in mist. His footsteps made no sound, despite the heavy ivory-dyed leather boots he wore. His entire frame was clad in the same shade of white, the same shade as his skin. The only contrasting colors were the raven black of his hair, straight as a razor and nearly down to the small of his back, and of course, those eyes. Eyes that stole women's hearts, eyes that haunted nightmares, so blue, and so cold, and so very without pity. In fact, they seemed to be mirthful, even from a distance.

And he was dragging something behind him. Only now they would hear the screams, the pleading of a young girl, bloody and naked, yanked by her shaggy blonde hair across the rugged dirty cobble stone of the Phantom Quarter.

"Winter has only just begun."
 
Colette's gun was in her hand by the time the creature had finished its first sentence -- for all the good it would do her. She grit her teeth at the sight and the sound of the struggling girl, anger flaring in her chest. To walk out in front of them like this, the beast knew its own power well. It thought itself invulnerable.

He- it, she corrected herself again, reminded herself what it was, that it didn't deserve anything better than that. It was like a figure out of a horror story, all in white, pallid as death. For all its beauty, it turned her stomach. This close, the aura was almost tangible even without opening her soulsight to it. She knew better than to try that now; it would probably knock her out.

She kept her gun trained on it, and waited in steely silence. She would follow the paladin's lead here, but her finger itched on the trigger with every sob from his victim.
 
The cold wind whipped over Savien's plate, cutting deep into the nanofoam and kevlar beneath. He did not shudder, hefting his exorcist and aiming it forwards at his advancing foe. They locked eyes - the Caer's amused smirk matched by Savien's callous growl. Paladin and vampire faced each other once again.

Savien's training served him well, his honed senses swiftly calculating the distance between them, the wind resistance, the collateral building damage if he fired now and the possibility that Nox's hostage survived. His mind became a number-crunching machine, cold and unfeeling save for brief shudders of fear and tremors of wrath. A familiar feeling rooted in the paladin's gut - the same he'd felt confronting the creature at Carseau or the necrobeast at Lumenia - dread mixed with anger, horror mingled with indignation. Here is the monster, something told him, itching his trigger finger to squeeze, here is the dark. Purge.

Perhaps a stronger paladin would have risked the girl's life to end the Caer, but Savien could not bring himself to fire on the beast whilst he held a human hostage.

"Let her go." His voice cut above the chilling wind and rumbled through the streets - gruff and ugly-sounding, nothing like Nox's gorgeous baritone.
 
A thin eyebrow quirked itself upward, as if confused. Then, those pale eyes would fall on the girl struggling in his grasp. Then, like a light turning on, he realized what Savien meant. "Oh. Oooooh. I understand. You want me to let my toy go, is that it?" The poor thing would be lifted by her matted locks, her thin legs soon kicking against empty air as she was hoisted upward, her whimpers and cries turning into screams.

"But I like this one. Shes young, full of life, and fear. I'll have you know she tastes marvelous, but I couldn't even begin to describe what that means. After all, you dogs of the Order never get to play, do you?" Slowly then, a face splitting grin cut across the Caer's features.

Like a lightning bolt, Nox's muscle's tensed, maneuvering the helpless teen through the air as if she weighed next to nothing. It was quick, beyond quick, and unnecessary savage what happened next. With legs kicking against empty air, tears streaming down her young face, and desperate cries she pleaded for someone, anyone, anything to save her. Nox only laughed, seeming to swell in size as the girl's pain continued to escalate. "I mean just look at her! Doesn't she look just delicious? I just want a nibble, sir Paladin. A morsel."

"Surely your Wick grants me that much, no?"
 
"The Wick will grant you a swift death," Savien replied, exorcist trained on the monster's heart, "release her, now, or I will deny you even that much."

He heard every scream, every prayer and cry for help. He said nothing in return, his aim steady, his mind sharp and clear and focused.
 
"A swift death? You, granting me, as if you have any real power here?" The condescending ring to every word was as sharp as a tac. Then...Nox noticed the animancer, truly noticed her. With pale cyan eyes dancing all across Colette's form, it was obvious only one thing was on the Caer Patriarch's mind, even before he asked the question "How about we trade, hmm?"
 
The machine in Savien's skull continued to analyze the situation. They were on an open, refuse-strewn street, abandoned flats to their left and right. The shell of an old Flint car lay crippled on the sidewalk. Nox was a good pace away, though Savien still had no idea how fast he was. He prayed he didn't take after Titus in that respect. All in all, it didn't seem like the environment would be very useful to Savien at the moment.

Keep him talking, he told himself, make him lose his cool. They make mistakes when they're angry. They're also more likely to kill you ... but Savien wasn't sure if he had a choice at this point. Two human lives were in danger. He needed to everything in his power to save them. He wracked his memory, pulling every bit of his knowledge on the Caer and Nox to the forefront. A prodigal son. Proud of his family. Deep loathing of the church on a technical and ideological level.

"The 'power' isn't mine, monster," he replied, voice low and grumbling, "it is the Light's - the same power that defeated your ilk fifty years ago. Overwhelmed your sister. Tore your brother limb from limb." The ghost of a smile cracked his lips. "And your noble father..."
 
It was strange, the sensation that over came Nox. It seemed so slow for him. He felt every millisecond stretch itself into the infinite, seeming to never end. But of course, that couldn't be true. Even Father wasn't able to stop time. Or even slow it. It was strange. In his near four centuries of existing, the Caer could simply never remember feeling anything like this before. It started as anger.

The gall of this filth. To openly admit it before him, of all people, the Herald of the Second Winter. The arrogance. The audacity. Nox had always known of course. History had confirmed it, but it didn't make it easier to swallow when this Knight of the Light said it so simply. That his family had been taken, and the Church had been responsible. To his surprise, it wasn't the mention of his Father that hurt him the most. Sure, that had riled him, contorted the Adonis-esque features into a horrible, blood thirsty visage, raw with hate, fangs like black glass bared in a snarl. But even that was fleeting.

What hurt the most was being reminded of his sweet sister. Avacyn. His sweetest dove. More than any of his siblings, even his twin sister Nyx, the new Patriarch longed for her laughter the most. Hair like silken silver. Eyes just like his, but soft. Innocent. Pure. The closest thing to an angel that It would allow. The hate was gone. The urge for violence was gone. All he felt was anguish. A reminder that they were never coming back. The despair grew beyond his capacity to cope, even quicker than the fury that had nearly overwhelmed his mind earlier. The roar on his lips turned into banshee's wail. Before he knew what he was doing, his claws latched into his prey, as did those terrible blades in his mouth, and she simply...

Ceased being.

Her body was fine, but before an agent of the light, within a second flat.

Another soul was consumed.

And Nox fell to his knees and wept. However. There was a cry. Numerous, from all around the abandoned slums and dilapidated hovels. Sick, sharp scurrying on claws and wood. Shrieks that were a mix of mournful howl and flesh-seeking glee. And hate, so much hate it shook the soul. At least a dozen.

The Lord of Caer had brought his pets. His precious spawn. They would protect their Master, their God, while grief overtook him.

Out of the buildings they came. Pale and gaunt and horrible, and so quick, slavering as they galloped across stone and leaped through air, monstrosities hungry for entrails and visceral and bone.
 
She had felt it before, when the Caer had taken his first soul and rendered it null. They all had: witches, necromancers, but the animancers the keenest, all across the city.

The death of the girl's soul sent a ripple through the world's anima that, this close, was more akin to a tidal wave. Colette gasped, taking an involuntary step back with abject horror painted upon her face. Shuddering, she pulled herself through the wave of nausea that followed, resisted the urge to bend over and retch. She said only a few short words to Savien, her voice cold. "She's gone, paladin. Kill it."

When the spawn came to their master's aid, they were met with the officer's gunfire, buying Savien time to unleash his weapon's fury on the Caer itself. The first bullet struck a spawn between the eyes, barely slowing it for the first instant, before it burst into a conflagration of arcane fire, consuming the creature mid-step. Five shots left that would actually matter. More than twice as many of the creatures in her field of vision.

Perhaps I ought to have taken those Warden classes, after all.
 
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