Across the world, there are many locations with histories that date far back in time. Places that have seen great battles, and enormous wars. Places haunted with fragments of the past, which have become focal points for the supernatural. These places, often hundreds of years old, if not thousands, are where groups of demon hunters, inquisitors, and others involved in the affairs of the supernatural, gather and commune. And among these is the city of London, carrying with it hundreds of years of history. Here, the Ordo Obscurum, the Order of Darkness, has it's roots firmly planted. They faced the many witches and covenants all across Great Britain, and date back to the Empire of the Rising Sun, when Britain was a great power in the world. An ancient group steeped in tradition and religion, said to have fought side by side with angels. Lead by Saint Mathews, this order still now fights the forces of supernatural evil, commanding many outposts both inside and outside Brittain.

In one of the many slums of the great city, as must form in any city, a great secret is hidden. To those who would walk past, not knowing of the darker side of the world, blind to the monsters and demons that stalk the streets at night. Known among the purveyors of the abnormal as the Citadel District, this area holds St. Paul's Cathedral. The burning of London, which was caused by Tsu Amun, a powerful warlock who controlled a horde of fire demons, is said to have destroyed this great cathedral. However, through the magic of Ordo Obscurum's Miracle Callers, it was saved from the flames. It's great doors are always open, through which move a stream of men on important business, many powerful mages or warriors. Each wore the long black coat that signified an agent of Ordo Obscurum, the Pointed Cross emblazoned on their chests. The great spires emanated the power of those that constantly scoured the world, finding the symptoms of the supernatural wherever they might appear.

A small group of initiates, led to this location by personal invitation, stood before this great structure. Upon the front stood emblazoned, in bright golden letters, the motto of those that served the Order. Ardet in Tenebris Lumen Clarissimum, 'Light burns brightest in the dark.' While many among those who had been called from across the world might not yet be aware of just what awaited them, each had been called here to become an official member of the Ordo Obscurum. Each would be sent across the world to fight those that the Order saw as a threat to their perfect world, in the name of God. While not all of it's members agreed with the religious claims of the church, none dared argue against them. After all, those that had seen Saint Mathews call upon the angel Appoloin, Second Sphere Lordship of Destruction, and a host of lesser Angels who followed him into battle. Who could deny the hand of God, when God's wrath was unleashed before them?

A woman with long red hair stepped forward. She was dressed not in the long the long flowing coats that many others of the order wore, but instead attired in a set of authentic looking crusader armor, the cross emblazoned with the spikes that symbolize the Ordo Obscurum's divine wrath. The plate mail steamed in the rain, as if it had been heated to a great extent, drops evaporating the moment they touched the metal. Constrasting the medieval attire, she wore a pair of sunglasses which hid her eyes. She wore no visible makeup, and held herself at the ready. Any experienced warrior looking at her could tell that she stood in a fighting stance at all times. Strapped to her back was a massive black suitcase, covered in symbols and charms to ward off evil and contain power. When she spoke, she spoke with an odd fierceness, her tone switching from high and musical, to almost a growl. "Well then, kids. Who wants to follow me into the big scary house?"

duty

The desert wind blowing sand into the ever growing dry sea.

home

the sun raised high above burning with heat so intense a man could pass out should he not drink water.

protection

a hundred warrior monks all practicing the rhythmic motions of their fighting style.

He opened his eyes after he was finished meditating, the plane and all its inhabitants annoyed him. Fat, unobservant, complacent. They would never seek out anything greater then themselves, never risk their precious lives to serve a greater purpose. They were a mockery of everything that the people of the desert, his people, had accomplished. To think he was almost proud when the authorities had taken him in for further investigation at the airport, only to have a phone call persuade them to drop all their guards. To think that such a world would exist beyond the harshness of the desert felt like an insult. One that annoyed him at every turn.

When he arrived in the city of London he was no less annoyed. People hoping into strangers cars, figures of authority eating on the job, men with terrible intentions lurking in every alleyway unimpeded. "Surely this is hell" he whispered silently to himself. To describe the world as it was now would be to describe rotten fruit, soft and outside hiding something even worse on the inside fooling no one but itself. This was going to be a long journey indeed.

From what his people gathered though there was a group of people here who would require his assistance and certainly from his view here that was evident. Yet he had no time to solve every minor problem with these people. There was a darkness growing and he must find the source before it could fester into something incurable.

He began his slow march towards the center of the city, he was unsure where the place he was looking for was but was certain in time it would find him. This was the way of the world as it must be. Vigilance was needed in these times and as always brave people will find him when the time comes for them to set out against the unknown forces of darkness.

Two unlikely candidates stood leaning against the wall of the cathedral amongst the rest. Angela and Damien both lifted their eyes at the red-headed woman's quite unexpected phrasing. They glanced at each other quizzically. They had expected her to be... somewhat more eloquent and European, for an established member of the order and a knight. Both of them came off the wall, straightening up, but kept their heads down. Regardless how rebellious or shy they seemed, they had both flown over from the states to be there. They were at least going in.

Although up front about its religious backround, the letter had been quite persuasive. Having also provided the funds for the trip, the two siblings couldn't say no. Damien, needed to get off his arse and get a job, and so Angela guilted him into it. She herself was more used to travel, and was hopeful at least this agent wouldn't ask her to kill anybody. "Come on, kid." She teased her younger brother with a playful smirk.

The two Americans looked around to see who else was coming.