Matt was patrolling through the city, there had been a rash of vampire attacks recently, nobody is sure where they came from or where they are hiding. Matt didn't like it, something was wrong, especially for them to outright attack a SOLIDER controlled city. It's almost as if they were planning something, something big. He walked past and alley way, he heard a sound, in a instant he had thrown a knife from his coat, it landing in a common street rat's chest. "Just a damned rat..." He said as he walked over pulling the knife free. Of course, everyone was on edge due to the sheer amount of attacks recently, it wasn't just himself. Due to the fact Kilo Point wasn't home to many soldiers, he had just as much responsibility to patrol as those under him did, it didn't help that a few had gotten killed recently either. Just what the vampires were planning, Matt could never guess. --- Magnus sat in a backroom of the makeshift base he had made, within it were several vampires, waiting for more to arrive. Magnus was planning for a war, and for such a thing, he would need many expendable pawns. As such, he had begun getting his current followers to turn people in the city. The humans were none the wiser, merely thinking it as a batch of rogue vampires, oh how wrong they were...When night comes many more will come to his aide, all of them expendable in his game of war...He could hardly wait, a big grin surfacing on his face, a row of sharp pointed teeth glistening in the faint light that was in the room.

Lady Mohowauuck held the letter in her hand as she walked, glancing one last time at the meetup-point coordinates posted on it. This seemed to be the the place, maybe the base was underground, because it seemed pretty vacant otherwise. The sour scent of city air met Mo's nose and she grimaced. Humans ruined the beautiful world that they were blessed with, and the smog blocked out the stars and grossly thickened the air. Lady Mo's hatred of humans grew substantially throughout her thousands of years on this Earth. At first, they weren't that bad... but recently their vile 'cities' began to plague the world, cropping up like blemishes on the face of the planet. All the more reason that this letter couldn't have come at a better time... it was time for war, and Lady Mohowauuck - the man eater, mother earth, goddess gaea incarnate herself - she would lead the battle against humanity. But first, she had to find this 'Magnus'.

As Matt approached a corner, a SOLDIER motorbike pulled up beside him, its engine running as stealthy as technology could make it. On it was a SOLDIER Enforcer, clad head to toe in black uniform, kevlar vest, a helmet with a dark visor, and he was armed with a few vampire-preferred weapons. The Elite SOLDIER members were always vampires, hired and trained specifically for destroying contract breakers of their own kind. It was always best to have a vampire hunt down a vampire, less human casualties in the effort that way. The white skin of his clawed hands gripped the handles and long heavy black hair trailed behind him. He had two swords at his sides and a military grade black compound bow over his shoulder. The Enforcer stopped deliberately beside him. "General." The vampire called. "I am special agent Varomere, transferred from California. I've been ordered to locate you and return you to base. Day patrol is ending early. Your shift is done. Please get on and strap in. I will take you back. It's time for me to take over." The general wasn't difficult to find. Modern technology was even capable of surpassing vampiric gifts in many ways. Matt's locator lit up a dot on the patrol bike's GPS screen.

"Private investigation. Please hold." "Umm Hi. She's not in right now, can I take a message? Mhmm...Oh okay. I'll be sure to get that back to her. Thank you." "Rebecca Valentine's office. This is Cammie. Umm...just a second." A busy evening it was for them, calls coming in left and right being answered by the rather eccentric young girl with blue hair sitting behind the desk of a small business office, decorated with small paintings of various landscapes and a few worldly trinkets here and there. She sighed with relief, finally able to set the phone down, but only to scoot back the slightly plush leather chair from the desk and stand on her feet, giving a stretch and a little yawn exposing her tiny daggers of ivory glinting in her mouth. Happily the strange girl hummed to herself ambling down the hallway, turning left towards a door and gently nudging it open with a resounding creak. Her eyes, shiny emeralds even in the dim candlelit glow of the room, trailed from the large, elegant dresser over to the queen sized bed, where upon it slept a woman with fiery red hair, a bit tousled from her tossing and turning in her somewhat peaceful slumber, her lips parting slightly to give a small glimpse of her own fangs as incoherently she mumbled turning over again. The girl giggled to herself and slipped into the room, climbing onto the bed and giving the woman a little shake, "Mistress, It's time to wake up." "Mngh....Wha...what?", The woman stirred raising her head from her pillow and turned over to look upon her young servant with tired yet piercing blue eyes, as blue as ice they appeared to the girl. "Already? But I was just having a wonderful dream?" She yawned rubbing her eyes and stretching. Cheerily the girl asked, "Ooh! Was I in it, Mistress?" "But of course you were, sweetie." The woman purred with a wry smile. "And Camille, you don't have to call me Mistress. You're not my slave, darling." A sly wink she gave before slipping out of bed, dressed in only a silk negligee but it soon fell to the floor, revealing her decadent figure in all its majesty. Of course, she didn't seem to mind the girl observing her bare splendor. After all, they were quite...close, to put it in better words. "Umm...o-okay, Rebecca." A warm hue of rose finding its way to her cheeks, Camille answered. Rebecca smiled all the more and sauntered to her dresser, pulling out a black lace bra and a pair of matching panties before slipping into them and making her way to her closet. Twas no surprise what her outfit would be, casual yet with a professional modesty. As she buttoned up her blouse and fixed her small tie, Rebecca asked of her cute servant, "Were there any calls while I was asleep?" "A few." Camille answered. "There was one from Mr. Fauntry about a 4:30 meeting tomorrow, oh and Mrs. Strand wants to know what you've discovered about her cheating husband." Rebecca sighed sitting on the edge of her bed and slipping her feet into her black heels, "The trivials of mortals, and 4:30....that's too early for me. I'm exhausted during the mid-day. Was there anything else, sweetie?" Camille pondered for a moment drumming her dainty fingers against her lips, "Hmmm...Oh! There was some man calling for you. He didn't leave a name, but said it was important you meet with him. He left an address and a time. 2:15 AM at Fifth and Mattherson. Her eyebrow rose slightly at the message given. "Odd." Who would want to meet with her so late and also...why wouldn't they leave a name but some address. Fifth and Mattherson, there was nothing there but an old construction yard. It was meant to be a shopping mall, but according to some...sources Rebecca knew, construction halted after a rather grim incident. She read the case files, happily borrowed from city police. Twas just as she assumed, bodies drained of their blood, horrific wounds on the neck indicating teeth. The attacks were only growing worse, and from the way things felt to the woman, the place was swarming with Nosferatu....swarming...with her kind.

Of all the places to meet, a cavernous base, deep within the earth like vermin in the sewers. A cistern of vampire-kin though most likely of merely the common Draculian vampire, unlike his own offshoot from an even more ancient vampire. His lineage was defined through the Pale Lady who preceded the Vampire King long before the Count drew his first living breath. And of this bloodline, he was proud of being distinct from the others, and of those he sired would be of the same line as he. Yet, there were others outside of the Dracula bloodline who would be comparative, progenitors of elders like him who were inevitably tied to the World. Indeed he was old, but still a merely a child compared to the Pale Lady who had dwelt in the waters of the world to feast upon the blood of drowned men or make deals with them for her own purposes. Though she had been quiet for many years, centuries even, such that perhaps the others had forgotten about her in her inactivity, and as such may have also forgotten of Lord Bedivere. Fortunately, some business had already drew the Vampire Lord into the area, far away from his homelands of Britain and Mansion Estate which he had built upon the ruins of Camelot. Over the years he had amassed a good number of thrall to spread his influence across the global scale, yet he was always selective in the process to ensure his collection of puppets were above the ordinary. In the U.K. for example, his thrall ran Parliament, MI6 and even sat upon the throne as was quite a few rulers given the gift of vampirism by he. The U.K. branch of SOLDIER does know the Queen is a vampire, as afforded by her age and seemingly eternal reign, yet cannot make any moves against the Crown without public backlash. Here in the rebellious states however, Lord Bedivere had to settle for more disposable thrall, less powerful people who would merely act as business contacts for a persona he had developed of "The Collector" to serve as a front for his identity as a knight of a mythical kingdom. When humans learned that vampires exist, and that all their fears of the supernatural became true, what would their incompetent minds think if they knew the real purpose of Merlin's Stonehenge? With vampires you had thought and intellect, but with mindless undead humans called zombies it was quite a different story. Would it be interesting then, as a humanswalked into the underground vampire lair dressed in what would appear to be museum curator attire, and smelling slightly of alcohol. "I present to you, Lord Bedivere of Sinews." From the shadows of the entrance way did a elderly figure appear, dressed in an English business suit, umbrella in hand and black briefcase in the other, a bower hat on top and a pair of glistening oxfords laced up below. A few of the younger vampires may have curiously eyed the elder, and some of his peers may merely scoff at such an appearance. Though he never drank alcohol, it was not to be said that Bedivere was without a flask to drink a little, in this case the former museum guide who served as a contact for Early American Artifacts to be added to his collection. And being from a time period far more formal and upright than this current era, he preferred to remain groomed as dapper to maintain his appearances as he is one of the few vampires who could do so as unlike the Draculians he did have a reflection. In stark contrast however, one look at Magnus and his ire unleashed itself. "For what purpose have you called us here for? Judging by your attire, Is it for an S&M Club?" The insult directed at Magnus for the lack of formality in the younger's dress and chosen meeting place. Although perhaps the younger could insult the elder back by making a stab at the other's fear of getting his shoes muddy...

In this world, vampires were aplenty. Hordes of them ran across the globe, like a great swathe of darkness, creatures of the night, united only by their bloodthirsty nature. Some attempted to integrate themselves into human society, subduing the curse that could not be subdued, attempting to live a life more befitting of a human. Others gave in to their animalistic urges, hunting across the land and slaughtering all who came before them. Either way, they were nothing more than a pest, a plague of demons that had spread under the neglectful watch of man, who had forgotten the Glory of God. For every strength they wielded, a new weakness grew, a reflection of their descent into sin, their failure to live up to their heritage. Whilst certainly dangerous, these were not, truly, a threat. Far more dangerous were the Oldbloods. A title attributed to many vampires, those that had survived for ostensibly long periods of time, and gained powers beyond those of the common breed. Ancient creatures of great power, with the cunning of the devil himself. These older vampires lead the lesser hordes, or dwelt alone in nature. They were the Vampire Lords, the Ancient Ones, the Elder Nosferatu. Many names had been granted to those who had fully embraced the darkness of their soul. And yet, there were creatures even older, revered even among the Oldbloods. The Pale Lady, an icon of death found in cultures thousands of years old, a creature so ancient, her origins are impossible to trace, and said to be synonymous with the Lady of the Lake in Arthurian legends. Cain, rumoured to be the first vampire to ever walk the Earth, the father of murder, who was the first to be abandoned by God, and set to wander the world until the end of time itself. Gabriel, shrouded in mystery, a being with many names, each as heretical as the first, attributed with powers unknown. Dracula, the father of all modern vampirism, the foul fallen Count who is responsible for the great spread of vampires in this modern day. These creatures, those that others would revere as minor Gods, those who would cloak themselves in the purest of darkness, were the prey of those that would carry the banner of the Light. The Shadow of God, Kami no Kage, who moved from roof to roof in the silence of the night, soundless and scentless, scanning the ground with every glance. Shrouded in fear, as well as his own prowess, wielding his fearsom reputation to show the Light to those that had blinded themselves. He would annihilate not just the symptoms, those hordes of undead that swept over the lands, but the Lords that ruled from their thrones of darkness. He would find the source of the darkness that flowed across the land, and he would bring them the justice he had been charged with. A servant of the Pale Lady had entered this land, a knight said to be the only relic of Arthurian legend. A traitor not only to his name, and legend, but to the Lord he had once served. This heretic would be made to taste Judgement, and in death, would form a stepping stone to lead Kami no Kage to the Pale Lady. Like the shadow his name would suggest, Kami no Kage dropped down from the ceiling, his infrared flipping on and off, revealing those in the crowd that had already been turned. Already, they turned to him, realizing that something was not as it ought to be. And those that would turn to the exits, would find themselves facing a wall of Holy Vapour, pouring in through every entrance, filling the airport. With a light click, Muramasa found itself in Onikage's hand. All here were guilty. Those who had not aided the vampire, had turned their head to the side, allowing for his passage through this place. This place was drenched in sin, and all that could be done was to speed the fools to their Judgement. Ten minutes later, Kami no Kage sat in front of the Fallen. A man, who had once been handsome, his face burnign as he screamed. Kami no Kage held him up with one arm, and as the vampire clawed at the black scaled gauntlet, his fingers had already begun to fall off. Mechanical, and clearly altered, a voice spoke from the featureless helmet. 'Tell me what you know of Bedivere, and you shall receive swift death.' The vampire still screaming, vainly attempted to speak, but it's tongue had already been burned. It would be irrelevant, already the Purge had started a witch hunt for the Vampire Lord. Dropping the pathetic creature, the Shadow turned, walking away, it's figure obscured by fog. Behind it, the vampire struggled, burning to a crips. Beneath his feet, the bodies of human and vampire alike were sprawled, sliced and burned. The walls had been painted red in the blood of sinners, but even surrounded by such sin, the Shadow was clean. For he was the purity of fire, who would burn the corruption from this land, no matter how many innocents had to die on the way.

Compared to the Lady Mohowauuck, the slim figure at her side was meek and unassuming. Hunter's dark eyes flickered around curiously as she followed her sire. She had asked once already where they were going, though the answer had been vague--perhaps Mo was uncertain herself. Not that anything about the woman said "uncertain." Besides, since then, other worries had crept into the young vampire's head and she was already concerned with getting to work on time tomorrow. Unlike the vampires that would be at this meeting, Hunter still saw herself very immersed in mortal life. She wasn't prepared for the very rude awakening about to come.

James Hunter yawned while he guarded the door to the SOLDIER base. He hated guard duty. He preferred to be out in the field, killing vampires. Compared to that, this was more like just doing nothing for hours. Oh wait. That's what he has been doing, because nothing exciting has happened.

Magnus smirked, putting his right leg atop his left knee, bringing both claws so as the tips rested against each other in front of him. "And what of you, going to have tea and crumpets with the Queen? Sounds like a jolly good time old chap, care if I tag along? Oh, maybe we can even go sledging! Have a drink or two at the tavern? Maybe dress up in those silly red guard outfits and stand completely still, then when a human walks by we can pop up and scare the shit out of them?" Magnus said, as sarcastically as vampirelly possible. "Come now, we can simply sit here and insult each others clothes until the world burns down, heaven knows we have enough time. I called you here for a much more important task, you see, I grow tired of this pathetic "SOLDIER" Organization. 'Look at me I have guns that can shoot silver and 900 miles a fucking hour, totally going to use it to help vampire and human kind for ever!'. You see, I called you here for outright war. And where better than to start here, at one of the most known outposts in the country?" Magnus stood, placing his hands together in thought, holding a single claw in the air and slowly nodding his head "You see, soon, plenty more will be arriving to aide me, well us, should you decide to take me up on the offer...One of my underlings said he even invited the great Gabriel himself...but I doubt that, and even if they did, I doubt he will bother to show.. He much better enjoys playing the side lines and fucking with everything that comes along.." He continued "Oh, I guess I forgot to formally introduce myself...Magnus Shane, at your service." He said with a sarcastic bow. "The look on your face says you are highly appalled by my choice of a...base..shall we say. Well, Despite money, one does not simply build a highly sophisticated and hidden base right near a outpost without anyone noticing you know. So, Deal with it for now I guess? If we don't tear the place up to badly we could use SOLDIER's base I guess...Maybe decorate it with the heads of a few of our foes...paint the walls in their entrails...Oh, listen to me carry on and on, you must think I'm crazy, right?" "Well, maybe just a little.." He said with a laugh. "So, What say you? I could always use more ancients such as myself you know, instead of this cannon fodder" He said with a gesture, of course, no one else was in the room. He simply meant the vampires in the base in general. -- Matt stopped after a step or two of the motorcycle stopping in front of him, he recognized the insignia of the Elite branch shortly after. "An Elite? The hell they send you for...Would prefer if they informed me prior..but eh. At-least I can get a break.." Matt said with a sigh before climbing aboard the vehicle and fastening the lap belt. "Drive on, I reckon. You can drop the formalities, most simply call me by my name, Names' Matt. What about you, got a first name?"

"The darkness hides the truth in lies, but by and by the feast of truth in shadows fills, the insatiable thirst. The thirst is clean, the thirst is dry, but the thirst must die by quenching fire but what jokes I tell may fill the bell if not laughing you go to hell" the Jester sang as he walked in, his eyes red and wide, and his scythe of bones and steel in his right hand. His step was filled with a bounce of joy, despite his intentional dark appearance. "Is this the home of Lord Magnus the gatherer of vampire kin?" He asked looking Magnus in the eye through his mask of eternal happiness. In the back of his mind Milo was thinking of his actions, what he's done and his friend he keeps inside. The friend gave him the darkness but what he does makes life all the fun. It got him here, looking at vampires and enjoying life. Even if they all seem to eccentric especially the one he stood next to, but at least he seemed special.

The exchange of insults, something to be certain of meeting egos, albeit perhaps it was far better to insult one another outright in lieu of passive-aggressive remarks. The insults served to establish a power structure within the room, making it clear to the lesser vampires the adults were speaking. As such the exchange was a customary as necessary to judge each other's character. It would almost be impolite not to insult each other. "So Lord Shane, you have gather us here in this backwards country of rebellious ingrates, mind you we would have already won the battle if it were not for this little wanton nation sired by Britannia so hold your tongue against the crown, for the sole purpose of declaring war. I would have preferred Italy had it not been for some business I had with the blood I brought in." The elder vampire tutted and shook his head in disproval. Perhaps it was time for a bit of monologue, a good speech to begin the politics amongst the kin. They locked eyes as Bedivere gazed into the other vampire. "You say you are gathering up the elder kin, dare I ask how many centuries has it been for you here walking amongst the herd? In all those years, have you learned nothing of the stupidity of humans? They have engaged in enough wars with their own kind though the ages, and yet still survive on like foul vermin breeding and festering in their cities above us. Wars change nothing, they merely stain the pages of history books with blood for our kind to drink. Did the thought occur to you as to what war actually fulfills save for our goblets? No, an outright war would scare the herd, stirring up trouble and sending them into a frenzy, a fury even, and escalation would cause several losses by both parties to what end? And though in my advanced age, I am more than willing to sacrifice every vampire present and accounted for here for a single day where humanity is placed under the rightful yoke of the kin, I find your lack of foresight more human than vampire. We have years to plot and manipulate, yet here you call for arms thinking it will swift and decisive. But war is long, and arduous, it requires commitment and persistence..." Then Bedivere turned to the vampiric assembly before them. "Look at this place, Lord Shane thinks it is possible to exterminate the SOLIDER, and yet here he as called for us deep within the bowels of the earth like meager worms with the excuse of being unable create a more proper base without attracting the attention of the enemy. Night Lords and Dark Ladies, ask yourselves how ironic is it then, that he would overestimate he enemy and underestimate them at the same time. He believes we are ready to war with them, and yet fears that they will find us. He is not ready to die himself, but would rather hide and hope they do not catch us like rats. I suspect he has cowered like the others beneath the earth which was forced upon us by the pact forged. He wants to declare war, but is not willing to commit himself to the possibility of failure. This is why we are where we are Vampires. We are hunters, not the hunted, it shall be they who shall retreat into the earth where the soil shall become their tombs and cages!" And now back to Magnus. "You wish for a blitzkrieg? Then let them know we are preparing for war, let them mount their horses, sharpen their swords and load their cannons. Let them bless their waters, whittle their stakes and silver their bullets. Let them use every resources against us for they know they will not win the war of attrition with their lifespans. Let them be expend themselves to the brink of collapse in hopes of taking us all out with them. Once the mist of holy water and blood subsides, the losses tallied up and the last survivors of the cattle are herded beneath their pens of dark earth so and bred like animals to lose their precious will to rise up against us, is when true victory will occur and night will descend up on Avalon. Then that, will be swift and bloody revolution you seek. Then you may gain my confidence that this war will be able establish any meaningful results. But let the other elders speak as they come, and I shall cast my lot after their thoughts on your little war game. I would hope they offer some sense in the matter as I find your line of thinking to be far too human for this meeting Lord Shane. What say you then, shall we say,'Chap' as you so would mock me in saying?" With a snide smile twisting the corners of his lips did Bedivere finish his overly done production. Certainly it was eloquent and inspiring enough, although the younger vampires may have stopped caring for the subtly of undermining another vampire. And now for a bit of a drink, as he leaned over his conveniently placed thrall and sank his fangs in to feed before producing the silk pocket square from his suit to wipe clean the remnants of blood from his sly grin.

Mithias kept the bike steady while Matt climbed on. It wasn't that Matt was slow or clumsy in the least, he was simply human. "I am Mithias." He answered in a soothing voice, in essence agreeing to a more casual identification. It was nice to see at least one of the Elite jerk vampires wasn't full of his own ego. Nobody liked or trusted that Rhyss Blackblade asshole. Mithias rejoined traffic with his signal. One might mock him for mimicking a member of the herd, but Mithias had been lawful since his creation. Some thing don't change, I guess. En route, Mithias was quiet and seemed to be concentrating. If he were human, it might have merely been dismissed for concentrating on the road, but he was not human. Nonetheless, once they arrived at the SOLDIER main gate, where James had been standing guard, Mithias removed his helmet and asked over his shoulder, "Did you notice anything out of the ordinary on your patrol... 'Matt?'" The vampire's tone seemed to indicate that he knew something and was looking for Matt to fill in the gaps. The sun was setting, so the dark visor was no longer helpful. As the general was considering his answer, Mithias flashed a look to the vampire guard. The clawed gauntlet, the sword, the lack of armor... Obviously another Elite agent. Mithias nodded toward him in greeting. "Agent Hunter."

As Rebecca sat at her desk sipping on some tea with honey and chamomile and skimming over a few appropriated case files from the city police, her brow furrowed a little and quietly she mused to herself, These attacks have been rampant here late. It's as though something's provoking them to lash out so violently. Or perhaps...someone. She took a small sip of her tea and sat it aside. Meanwhile, her servant was dusting the shelves full of her antiques gathered from her journeys around the world, happily humming to herself. Rebecca eyed the young vampire for a moment and smiled lightly before turning back to the files. It didn't make sense to her, vampires striking willy nilly, a city gripped in absolute fear of being out during the night and enlisting an enforcement agency that seemed more to Rebecca like a private military firm. Might as well be since vampires are considered more of a threat than Islamic extremism. Setting the files aside, she stood from the desk about to yawn, but stifled it when her phone began to ring, catching her off guard. "Ah! I'll get it!" Cammie tried to reach for the phone, but already her mistress' hand was upon it, a soft smile given to the young girl as Rebecca answered, "Private Investigation, who is this I'm speaking to? Officer Hurst, how are you on this wonderful evening? Files? Why...no I'm quite sure I don't have them. What would make you say that I presume?" A sly wink she gave to her servant, Cammie giggling softly. "Perhaps you misplaced them then. Oh but thank you for reminding me. I've been meaning to ask you of those few cases. The bodies are still in the morgue, are they not? Of course it is not my business, but...a detective is still a detective, even if she does not carry a badge like you, good sir. So they are then. Yes of course, I'll stop sticking my nose where it shouldn't be. Mhmm...you have a wonderful night as well, Officer Hurst. Take care then." As she hung up the phone, her pleasant smile faded into a bothersome scowl across her lips. "Honestly, I don't know how I put up with such a stubborn mortal." Rebecca sighed rubbing her temples with her frail fingers. "Camille, let's go. We're off to the morgue. Make sure you bring the necessary requirements." Camille nodded, "Yes, Rebecca." And scurried off to her room, or rather the room she shared with the woman. Once she returned, the two made their way outside to Rebecca's vehicle, a cherry red sports car, and drove to the city morgue. Along the way, they were passed by a speeding bike with some emblem. Rebecca figured it was the firm hired to protect the city from the recent vampire scourge, though officials were trying the best they can to keep things under-wraps and of course doing their damndest to make sure certain people stayed quiet about the grisly affair. Pulling up to the building, she killed the ignition and stepped out throwing on her long grey coat, as it was a rather chilly night, and it was bound to be bone chilling once they were inside the main facility. Cammie was the first to walk right up to the building, holding the door open for her mistress before skipping inside herself. They approached the front desk, the man behind it, dressed in slightly sullen scrubs, skimming with tired, lethargic eyes through a newspaper before crumpling it slightly and turning towards them. "Yes?" He inquired a bit snarky. Rebecca paid it no mind however, "Hello there. I was hoping to identify a body. I run a private detective firm here in the city. Rebecca Valentine, and this is my assistant, Camille." "Hi!" Camille smiled brightly and waved, yet even a face as warming as hers, at least warming to her mistress, couldn't even get to this sour bastard, "Sorry, but I can't allow anybody to view the corpses unless they're official police detectives. Now then, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to my break." Coldly he whisked the newspaper back to his face, barely noticing the scowl on Rebecca's, but that scowl turned into a rather amusing smirk as she spoke again, "Oh heavens. How could I forget. We are on official police business, from detective Johnathan Hurst." He wouldn't recognize it as he stared at her again, but Camille did instantly, trying her best to stifle a giggle. In a matter of seconds, the man happily obliged them, "Oh right. We just received a call from Hurst here recently. Said he would be sending a representative in his place. Please, follow me miss Valentine. We've got two of the bodies in the freezer right now, but one's still on the slab for viewing." "Why thank you, kind sir." Rebecca spoke eloquently and followed behind the man down the hall with Camille beside her. "That's a really neat trick, Mistress." Excitedly the girl whispered. "You'll have to teach me how to do that." Rebecca smirked, "Perhaps another time, sweetie. Right now, we're about to embark on another hunt, and something tells me these attacks aren't sporadic. If my assumptions are correct, these youngbloods are possibly thralls of an elder, and they're being provoked to strike."

Mithias kept the bike steady while Matt climbed on. It wasn't that Matt was slow or clumsy in the least, he was simply human. "I am Mithias." He answered in a soothing voice, in essence agreeing to a more casual identification. It was nice to see at least one of the Elite jerk vampires wasn't full of his own ego. Nobody liked or trusted that Rhyss Blackblade asshole. Mithias rejoined traffic with his signal. One might mock him for mimicking a member of the herd, but Mithias had been lawful since his creation. Some thing don't change, I guess. En route, Mithias was quiet and seemed to be concentrating. If he were human, it might have merely been dismissed for concentrating on the road, but he was not human. Nonetheless, once they arrived at the SOLDIER main gate, where James had been standing guard, Mithias removed his helmet and asked over his shoulder, "Did you notice anything out of the ordinary on your patrol... 'Matt?'" The vampire's tone seemed to indicate that he knew something and was looking for Matt to fill in the gaps. The sun was setting, so the dark visor was no longer helpful. As the general was considering his answer, Mithias flashed a look to the vampire guard. The clawed gauntlet, the sword, the lack of armor... Obviously another Elite agent. Mithias nodded toward him in greeting. "Agent Hunter."

James gave him a nod in greeting. He then looked around, making sure no enemy vampires were lurking in the shadows. Nothing yet, but he had a bad feeling about this...like there was going to be an attack or something. He pricked his finger using his gauntlet, knowing that any younger vampires that were scouts for the enemy wouldn't be able to resist the smell of the blood, because they had less control than the older vampires that were hundreds of years old.

Magnus stared, almost blankly. "Sorry, I lost track of the conversation around 'Britannia' and re-joined it around 'Chap'. I'll just assume what that was about was a rather long winded 'Yes'. Do make yourself comfortable while we wait for the rest to arrive?" Then Magnus noticed it, the smell of a werewolf. It smelled like a wet dog that had been left out in the heat for a few days, absolutely disgusting. "He glared towards the werewolf that had just entered the room. "The Jester, I'd assume? Welcome indeed...please try not to get your smell all over the place. Dirt and rock tends to soak up the smell of things you know?.." He told him, half mockingly. "Nonetheless..I assume you are here for our little..'gathering'?" --- "Out of the ordinary? No..Not really. Nothing past a few more attacks than usual, but hey that's what they pay us for eh?" Matt replied. Matt wondered why so many Elite agents were being dispatched, surely Hunter would have been enough? It seemed SOLDIER knew a bit more about what was going on here than he or anyone else did..

A tapestry of earth, stretching out into the horizon, lit by the slowly setting sun. Upon it, was painted a hundred wars, great works of art drawn in fresh blood and bitter memories, an image ingrained into the land itself. Groups of bustling weeds grew out of the ground in the rocky wasteland, marking where the injured had died, drained of their blood, the remains of ancient weapons buried deep below. Layer over layer, the violence had marked this place, hatred growing into an almost palpable aura, inhabiting the sand, the walls, spreading into the hearts of men. Brilliant pillars of light arose, deeds of hero and villain alike, acts so despicable or selfless they radiated, reaching through the veil of history, carrying with them a long-forgotten world. It was poetry, a beautiful tale, sung only to those who could hear it, with the voices of the fallen. Standing at the crest of a rolling hill, covered in rocky protrusions, Gabriel stared out at this ancient canvas. It was not through chance that this place had been chosen to host the first great strike against SOLDIER. The blood had sunk deep into the soil here, and the promise of bloodshed had drawn those vampires with the longest of memories out from hiding. Many times, this ground had hosted horrifying massacres, and brutal vampire hunts, both sides vying for supremacy, and even survival. Even now, the gentle beat of the drums of war echoed in Gabriel's ears, filling him with strange, psychotic glee. Once more, the brush had lifted, waiting for the ink that would paint the hills red. Once more, war approached. Red eyes glowed brightly from underneath the brim of a top hat, as white gloved hands were raised to the sky. Softly, Gabriel hummed a tune only he could hear, his foot tapping to the rythm. And as his fingers plucked at the heartstrings of men, great clouds of thunder gathered high above. The very atmosphere trembled, and the earth soon followed suit. A rumble, an echo, a drumbeat engraved into the stones, that had witnessed a hundred thousand years of brutal slaughter. Once more, Gabriel would walk among the immortals. And this time would be the last.

"Oh joy oh joy another bleeding boy, what darkness hides the nose knows, I greet ye though you know, I dear sir am the Jester" Milo sang as he jumped up balancing on his scythe, "Though the nose smells, the brain knows I'm here for purpose, I bid you good day from the royal court, I'm sure you give good sport." With this Milo jumped off the scythe grabbing it, he swiftly walked away back towards where he came from, to sit at the door to play with those at the gate... maybe determine fate

Twilight. It was a time of transition, when the light of the sun gave way to darkness. The time when those who feared the Lord would come out of hiding, believing themselves to be stronger cloaked in shadow. The attacks up until now had only been the beginning. Every method of tracking available had shown all known 'Feral' Elder Vampires heading towards this location, a congregation of ancient demons, those who would defile the name of the Lord, and take His place. Soon, the horses of apocalypse would ride out, and war would be upon them. Little did the beasts know that it would be them who would fall. Smoke curled up into the darkening sky, a pipe held in ironclad fingers. With the sound of a sword leaving the sheath, a visor slid down over the lower half of the paladin's face, as he discarded the pipe. Standing, he moved forward, the figures around him following his lead. It was time for war. -------------------------------- Panic ran through the streets of Kilo Point, as great tanks emblazoned with the flaming cross drove through the market square. Far above, helicopters gathered, great smoke machines prepared to blanket the ground in The Breath of God. Already, teams of ex-SOLDIER special forces were setting up great crucifixes, lit brightly aflame. Marching rapidly, the forces filled the city in moments, SOLDIER troops nervously raising their weapons, moments from hostilities, unsure whether to shoot the extremists. Loud voices echoed through the streets. And yet, both the demands of SOLDIER and the protests of civilians grew silent as the armor-clad figure of Kami no Kage marched through the central streets, heading straight towards the main SOLDIER base. A mechanical voice called out, emotionless, unidentifiable. 'Heretics of SOLDIER! Lay down your arms, we are not here to kill you. We bring the Hammer of Wrath, to slay the foul beasts that plague this land!' Unhindered by the snipers already taking their position, Kami no Kage kept walking, heading straight towards where Matt was standing near the front gate. 'We will purge this place clean of all impurities. Let it be known that the Warriors of God stand with you this day.' It would have been awfully dramatic, had it not been spoken in that mechanical, monotone voice. And yet, the heavily armed tanks taking up their position behind Kami no Kage added a certain.... edge to his words.

Lady Mohowauuck protectively put her arm around her progeny, Hunter, as they descended into the underground vampire lair. Mo might be brutal and ruthless in war, but she was ever the nurturing mother to her children. Even the gods among men held affection for their children, those chosen few who would spread their praise throughout the lands. The gods and goddesses always need their praise. Lady Mo smiled as they walked, feeling comforted in being surrounded by unmarred earth. Mo had never met this Magnus, but he seemed to be gathering many of the ancients and Oldbloods for this war of his, so Mohowauuck had high hopes for his mission. Mo picked up the scent of a werewolf and titled her head curiously... not many vampires, aside from herself, cared to interact with the wolves. She smiled at the wolf as she passed through the doorway. Although she didn't recognize any of the faces of those present, her out-of-place clothing would make her easy to identify for the one who invited her. Otherworldly grace and confidence colored her features and voice as she spoke. "I've come to bless you with my aid. It seems that the winds are in your favor." Although her words were bloated with cockiness at the core, the calm and serene way that she spoke them made it clear that she packed quite the punch to match her hubris. Just as she spoke the last words, a gust of wind tore through the chamber, causing candles to flicker and papers to flutter from the table. The right corner of Lady Mo's lips lifted slightly.

"Well, here she is. Quite a sight, isn't it?" Walking into the morgue, it already felt like the temperature dropped to zero as they entered the room, and wafting in the chilled air was the pungent odor of formaldehyde and bleach, a clean scent yet it burned the woman's nostrils. "We've still have yet to identify the cause of death, but according to police reports, the victim was allegedly drained of blood, but then again, with a gaping hole like that in her neck, I'm not surprised if she bled out." Rebecca sighed and shook her head softly, barely paying any mind to the medical examiner. Her attention was mostly on the dead blonde resting on the slab. "She have a name?" Rather blunt she asked. The examiner replied, "Not yet. She's pretty much a Jane Doe until we get a hold of her family. You know her?" Rebecca shook her head, "I'm afraid not. She's beautiful though." The examiner chuckled, "Yep, she's a looker alright. Anyway, I'll leave you and your assistant to your work. Got some reports I need to fill out for the coroner. If you need anything, just holler." Rebecca smiled sincerely, "Will do, good sir. Thank you." As he left the room though, Rebecca and Camille kept an eye on him until he was gone. Once they were sure the coast was clear, that's when they went to work. Rebecca gave a slight nod to the blue haired girl and stood back as she approached the dead woman slowly and gently set her hand on her closing her eyes. "I....I can hear her. She's afraid." In a whisper Camille spoke. Rebecca crossed her arms and returned, "Tell her she's safe. We're not here to hurt her." Camille nodded lightly, her eyes still closed. It was amazing to the woman, Camille's gift, to see beyond the boundaries of the mortal realm and to commune with those who remained on the cusp between, caught between the living....and the dead. Rebecca frowned a bit concerned however as Camille's hand trembled shortly, not really a good sign. "She's fading away. I-I might lose contact soon." Hesitant Cammie stammered. "Then ask her who it was who killed her. Hurry, we need to know." Camille nodded, but soon her eyes shot open and she gasped falling to her knees, her emeralds gleaming bright...almost inhuman. "Camille!" Rebecca quickly caught her in her arms and pulled her into a hug. "Are you okay, darling? What happened?" She held the girl close to her, a deep concern wavering in her ice blue eyes. A tad weary Camille answered her, her voice a little raspy, "I-I'm okay, Mistress, but I...I lost her..." Rebecca, though disappointed by the news, tenderly kissed her servant's cheek and whispered, "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll try to contact her again." But more grim news had to follow from Camille, "I...I can't anymore, Rebecca... I'm sorry..." W-what...what do you mean?" Rebecca asked, her brow furrowing. Camille answered frowning, a bit of a mist in her eyes, "She...she's been pulled into the void. I can't contact any souls after they've left the firmament between our realms, and....even if I could, she's too afraid to speak to me, because...." She didn't even have to say it. Rebecca already knew why anyone, living or dead would be terrified of them. "Shhhh...it's okay, Camille. Softly she spoke comforting her young servant. "Were you able to discover her killer?" Camille nodded slowly and breathed leaning into the woman's touch to her cheek, "Mag.... That's all she could say before she faded away." Mag.... Rebecca knew nothing of the sort. Was it part of a name? Obviously it was, but...just a part...it wasn't enough to identify these vampires and their lord...but a clue it was at least. "Here..." The woman sighed growing one of her sharp claws, carving the bladelike appendage into her wrist and bringing it dripping with her blood to the youngling's lips. "Drink. You need your strength, my dear." Camille lapped at the wound a little before her small fangs extended and she bit into her lady's wrist, quietly sucking on her flesh and taking in her crimson nourishment... It pained the elder vampire at first, but gently she smiled and petted Camille running her fingers through her hair. Mag...an obscure mention...but perhaps they were getting somewhere...