Ah there was nothing quite like the sound of rain on a cool November evening. There was simply something divine about the sound. Something that helped the man calm and relax as he worked. Though the night was cool, the room was warm as a large fireplace crackled and popped as he worked. He was by no means a tall man but he was by no means short. He was only slightly taller then his fellow man. His black hair had a slight shine to it as he sat quietly, his feet propped up on a foot rest and a book in hand. A cup of tea sat beside him, still hot and barely touched as he ran his eyes across the book. He took a slow breath as he continued reading.

On his desk was the usual. A few books on mixing and making gunpowder, unsolved murders of the 18th century, things of that nature. A few letters he had yet to send to the Pope stating that he would soon be heading to Romania to investigate the murders that had been occurring near a small village. A few bolts from his crossbow as well as a small crucifix. Everything in his room was right where he needed it to be, while it was by no means tidy, it most certainly wasn't a pig sty. Conner took a sip of his tea and sighed as he slipped the velvet bookmark into the page he was on, closing the cover and setting the book down. Slowly, Conner LeStrange rose. He let out a slow breath as he walked quietly to the window, observing the hustle and bustle of Rome.

Oh how glad Conner was to have a home in a city as beautiful as Vatican City. He smiled a bit at the thought of how strange the times were. Pistols that didn't require a minute to reload immediately after firing a bullet, trains that took you from one place to another faster then by horse and carriage. He smiled a bit more at the thought of the train ride he'd taken not too long ago. What a treat it was. His smile dwindled as he thought of his little girl. Anna. She wasn't very little anymore, 20 years old now. She had sprouted up like a weed. She was getting married last time he'd heard. He sighed a bit in slight depression at the fact she hadn't asked him to the wedding. Alas, he'd chosen to hunt vampires and to join the Order. The needs of the many always outweighed the needs of the few.

Dr. LeStrange watched as the horses and carriages went back and forth. Times were changing he could feel it. He was curious to see what the future had in store. What could possibly be made? He didn't know. So much had changed already. Conner turned and took a sip of his tea. He could see the Pope's home from here, quite impressive really. It reminded him of the Ancient Greeks. He sighed and set his cup of tea down, putting his glasses on to take a look at who would be arriving soon.

Mages, Warriors, Hunters, Scientists. People of every background, gender, skin color. He had sent letters out to all members of the supernatural community. He'd done his best to ensure that all could come to Vatican City quickly. Each one was invaluable in their own way, each one an expert in their own field. All Conner could hope for was that it would be enough

As Conner finished with the files in question, he walked to the map where Father Henry was working diligently researching various news articles, local legends, things of that sort. Conner examined the map and then looked to Henry. "Any suitable leads Father?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Henry rubbed his neck and nodded. Father Henry was Vatican City's personal historian and the Order's official archivist. His job was to go over bits and pieces of information and record it all by hand. If anyone could notice patterns and link them, it was the Father. "I've come across three possible incidents so far but I'm digging deeper to find out anything I can. Only so much I can do with bits and pieces of information coming in from around the world" he said.

Conner chuckled. "Not to worry. I have faith in you Father. If anyone can do this, it's you" he said. Conner glanced over the father's shoulder and examined the locations in question. Paris, Germany, and a small coastal town in America by the name of Innsmouth. Curious. A priest came before him and whispered that the hunters would be arriving any moment. "Ah, thank you brother. I will adjourn to the study" he said as he turned and began for the study.

---

Thunder. Lightning. These were the sounds that awoke Adam from his slumber as the wagon took him to his unknown destination. Thunder and Lightning. The tools of his creation by the hands of an eccentric medical student. It had been a difficult birth. He had been born in sheer, terrified agony. He wasn't the being his father had intended, not the golden triumph of immortality. He had been an abomination in the man's eyes. His father had fled screaming, and the first human action he experienced was rejection. Was there ever a creature so alone? So helpless? Was every newborn creature abandoned when they were born? Was this what life was? He didn't hate humanity, nor did he love humanity. Adam wished simply to be accepted. He still harbored some anger and some hatred for his father. But he felt guilt nonetheless. His anger and his rage had been the tools of his father's undoing as the thunder and the lightning had been the tools of his creation.

Adam didn't know how this "Dr. LeStrange" had managed to find him, didn't know what he knew of him. Adam only knew that this would be his only chance of finding Nergal. Nergal, agent to the prince of darkness himself. A demigod if you will. He'd been set free thanks to his naivety. Like his father, Adam had brought a monster into this world. It was Adam's duty to stop this monster before any damage could be done. Adam looked up from the wagon's floor as he was greeted by the sight of the city of Rome as the rain came down. Adam admired the beauty of the city, admiring the purity of it all. Adam was a grotesque monster but even something like him can admire and recognize beauty and purity. Adam looked over his supplies. His books, runes, salt, all the things he needed to hunt demon kind. Though one of his most effective weapons was his brute strength and lack of a soul. Though for Adam, such accusations were wounding, though true. Souls were defined as the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans. They were regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body and yet Adam had principle. He could feel, think, and take action. In a way, the monster had a soul.

Adam lurched a bit as the wagon stopped before a lavish home, one larger than anything he'd ever seen. The doors looked strong enough to stop a mob. Adam grabbed his bag and hopped of the wagon with a heavy thud. Adam was a hulking creature, standing at an amazing 8 feet tall and weighing 354 pounds of pure muscle. Adam gathered his things in his rucksack. He moved slowly, his feet thudding heavily as he walked towards the door, knocking on the door with three powerful knocks. His hood hid most of his face as he approached. His presence was intimidating, his footsteps a clear indicator the man was heavier and stronger than the average human being. There this giant figure stood, quiet aside from the sound of his breathing and the rain.

The smell of dust, of stagnant water, of frankincense wafting from the many shops that littered the bazaar yonder...

"So this is Vatican City."

A man's metallic voice mused intrigued to himself, the fluted helmet he wore ringing and obscuring what expression he had then.

The carriage driver had twisted to look behind him as his eccentric passenger got off, apathetically anticipating that the tall armor clad figure would hit his head on the groove of the door on his way out. The large ones always do. He hesitated between letting the poor 'knight' know or listen on quietly for some entertainment of his own, but after a moment's pause and considering that he had recieved a fair sum for the journey and perhaps a shred of conscience- he let out a: "Watch your-"

...But his passenger was already nowhere to be seen, the excessive amounts of luggage were cleared from the cabin. Leaving just the imprint of where the man sat, slowly disappearing as the cushion rose back into shape.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Far within the city, in sights of a manor, a figure approached the dwelling's porch. Haphazardly drapped in a layer of jute in an attempt to to ward off the rain, the weather's dull light casted odd shadows on all caught within it.

As the figure approached he saw yet another man at the door under the shelter, or at least what he thought was another man. The shade made the being seem oddly proportioned, even a little larger than usual. "Hmm."

Till he got a closer look upclose, now no more than two feet beside the being who was indeed slightly taller, than even himself in all his own ironforged glory. He caught glimpses of the face behind the hood. Bits of a nose, the shape of eyes and hints of scarring. It was nothing much to to work with but the subject was definitely people... Or at least, people-esque.

While he seemed to scrutinize the door before them, He mused a second hollow "Hmmmm." perhaps a little more drawn out and Less jovial than the last.

---

---

The young man, shrouded in darkness, waited in agony as the rusty ferry neared the coming port.

How long had he been hunched over? The duration of the travel had him dry-heaving and balancing the effort of keeping himself stable and trying his goddamn best not to fall over the edge. The waves were gentle, but his stomach growled in lack of agreement. Time bled much differently where he was from; a province allocated much too far from the rest of the world. As a result, he had been so far removed from the sea that he nearly forgot its existence. Sal had been brought up to stay calm in the face of danger, but this was a new type of battle, and the ocean sickness was not making it any easier on the poor boy. His organs seemed to bunch and swell, continuously thundering and hurling themselves against the walls of his body with little to no mercy on the boy. See, that was the danger, he mused miserably, of having spent his years on land. The trickiest route involved change. If anything, he knew that when it did come, it would seem too hurried. Too discourteous.

And a great change was indeed coming, he could feel it humming from the skies and pulsating within the flames of the tall torches that seemingly welcomed his arrival. They had a bond, he and the fire. For twenty-three years he felt the conflagration's burn as it coursed fiercely through his veins, giving him enough power to carry out the deed he was born to accomplish, but mostly using it to keep himself warm. His Goddess' gift granted him the ability to do more than just that, though.

Salvyn hopped off the ferry and tipped the oarsman, waving a shaky goodbye as he struggled to compose himself from the most wavy adventure. The air slightly shifted, and suddenly he had just barely been swallowed up by the hordes of people that undulated in harmony to the ebb and flow of the sea beside them. The young man held his breath as the rank sewage stench molested his nostrils, in an attempt to subdue the hostile odour. Voices flooded in from every direction, accompanied by the roughest of shoves and messy footwork that compared to the elegance of a bull ploughing headfirst into a brick wall. The crowds of people truly seemed to be the life of the atmosphere, paying no heed to the brunet that wished they were anything but.

There were too many people here - too many problems that reminded him of why his parents had to flee the city in reckless abandon. This was his true place of birth, but the Vatican State had chased his ancestors out for years if ever they were found to step foot in the premise. The reason? they were afraid. Scared of things they could not understand. Terrified of him.

The mage did his best to conceal his true nature under the hood of his cloak, and kept his gauntlets on at all times, if in any case he did manage to allow some of his magic to spill out. They weren't exactly fireproof, but they were sturdy and made from a material that was forged to handle the heat. They were designed with miniature holes at the tips, to regulate the intensity of his powers when he decided to use them. If anything, they were safe. He looked fairly innocuous, compared to the brutes and ragged streetwalkers that meant nothing good for the city, yet still somehow possessed the right to stay. Stifling a cough, he advanced carefully towards the location written to him in the letter he received.

Da pacem, Domine, in diebus nostris
Quia non est alius
Qui pugnet pro nobis
Nisi tu Deus noster

The church's haunting hymns echoed around the streets that stood in his way, causing the people to turn quiet and halt all types of conversation. This made for easier navigation, much to his surprise. A tall manor that boasted elegance came into view from behind a rustic bakery. The aromas that brewed inside were deeply tempting, and as a result he walked out of the confectionary with an assortment of baked goods, in exchange for a couple magic tricks and hushed bargains.

Salvyn once again made his way towards the manor, when he had just spotted a familiar face.

"AKIO? S'THAT YOU? Fancy seeing you here. Oh boy, it has really been a stretch of time!" Well, fuck. Salvyn exclaimed internally in utter disbelief. Sure they had been involved in the same company, but never would he have thought that fate would have them together in the same city after what had happened last time they went hunting.

"I suppose we are rather late - let's head on up before we get ourselves into a mess with the boss." and with that, he barely left Akio with anything to say. He was rather embarrassed, to say the least. The brunet gunned it to the large door, where two men stood waiting. One was clad in semi-heavy, iron armour, whereas the other stood much taller than the both of them combined, or so it seemed. They looked like the type of duo you wouldn't want to mess with, so it was obvious they were called in as well.

Salvyn peeled his hood back and glanced at the two.

"Greetings. My name is Salvyn. Would you lads care for a bite?" the man held out the bag in front of him, exposing its goods.

MENTIONED: @LordofTheNight @Inertia @potatochipgolem

@LordOfTheNight@potatochipgolem@LazyEgg

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The journey to Vatican city took somewhat long, as it was basically on another continent. However using the resources of the ever-elusive Order, he caught the fastest ferries and trains he could. He didn't sleep though, as each transportation method was back to back, and it seemed like he had to change conveyance at every opportunity. Now getting rather annoyed at the constant shifting, the ferryman assured that this would be the final change. But it would take a few hours to get there, so Akio strapped in, luggage in tow.

He slept, no dream to keep him company, just... emptiness before he was shook awake by one of the attendants. He had arrived, albeit a bit jet-lagged. He still felt sleepy, but it was daytime right now, and the chatter that filled his ears as walked off of the ferry proved it. He rubbed his eyes in dismay, it would take a bit before he could adjust his body clock but he'd endure. He started waking towards the location- his destination. His luggage was taken away by some person hired by the order- atleast Akio hoped.

Many of the buildings were variegated, odd linings and colourings were omni-present in almost all the buildings. Even the architecture was weird, despite having ties with the order, he never needed to go to the main headquarters, but now that he was summoned he reluctantly chose to go. Different and varied incense fought to gain dominance over his sense of smell, but the diverse smells produced a concoction that produced the opposite effect, it made Akio nauseous, He shook his head and continued walking, opting to breathe through his mouth to avoid the intensity of the aromas present all around.

A peckish feeling overtook Akio, his eye spotted a bakery. He approached it, feeling that he can spare a couple of minutes to sate his stomach. The sign was battered and rundown, but it undoubtedly spelled out Bakery, unless Akio's gone blind. With a ding, he entered the store. The sweet fragrance of freshly baked breads was now more intense, and a hearty 'Welcome' was said as he approached the counter.

Another ding was heard as he left the door, a bag with two pieces of sugary breads poking out held in tow. He finally arrived at the place, the Manor. In all its allure, grandeur and majesty, which was heavily ironic as it drew attention, but the Order was meant to be secret.. He was perfectly content with just viewing and observing the fine achievement of architecture, until a voice called out to him. A voice he knew, and instantly vexed him, a voice that soured his mood. It was the voice of Salvyn, another member he had a not so pleasurable experience with a few years back.

"AKIO? S'THAT YOU? Fancy seeing you here. Oh boy, it has really been a stretch of time!"
"I suppose we are rather late - let's head on up before we get ourselves into a mess with the boss."

He said these words and quickly left his presence, the energetic brunette seemed to remember their unsavory encounter. He irritably massaged his forehead with his open hand due to him dropping his bread due to the surprise, and rather unwanted greetings. Looking down at the bread, now interlocked with mirth, dirt and sand. It was a complete waste.

"Order seems desperate if they want him present." Akio grumbled in his lonesome, resuming his gait towards the Manor. After arriving, the irritating Salvyn was present, standing next to two odd men. One too dressed for the occasion, and another man the towered over his own height. He leaned back against the wall, waiting for something to happen whilst the last piece of bread was in his hand.

"Greetings. My name is Salvyn. Would you lads care for a bite?"

The overly-dressed one turned around, distracted from his quiet contemplation and discreet observation of a certain individual by the whiff of burnt rye. Now facing a young man before him, fair of skin and free of scars. At least, as far as he could see. Blue eyes. Hmm. His hands held out a bag generously, within were the much needed supplies he sought for lunch. Oh lunch. The journey he took to this place was long and days of hardtack with salt water in the carriage was hardly a comfort, bread like this would atone for all that. He thought for abit,



"Generosity like yours is very rare these days, young man." A dry but sleek voice complimented the youngster. "Blessed be are those who give without asking." A gauntleted hand slipped out from under the poncho to draw a cross from temple to chest.

But alas, to take the bread means to eat it here and to eat it here means to take off his helm. Something he could not do now, nor did he want to sully the confection by holding it in his hand till a private moment - for maker-knows how long that would be.

"But I've had my meal-" No, he did not. "-just a while ago. Anymore and I won't be able to fit in this rusty old bucket." He said amusedly and his hand slipped back under the fabric. "Thank you still, my child."

He glanced towards the other young man who accompanied the bread-giver, he too looked slightly out of place. Slightly more squinted eyes, a skin colour between tan and fair that he does not remember seeing before. Hair as dark as night. These two were an odd couple. Most definitely. But the fact that they were here meant that they likely had skills, uncanny skills, that were required by this 'Order'.

Appearances did not matter, but the way they, or at lest one of them, - approached this knight, made them a welcomed sight indeed. If this is any indication of the 'Order's future disposition.

Conner stood quietly in the waiting room as he tended the fire and ensured the bar had glasses, drinks, things of that sort. He was eager to meet the hunters and to begin this war against the darkness that was gathering. As though on cue, he heard a powerful knock at the door. Conner walked to his desk and grabbed his pistol, slipping the weapon into his jacket pocket. He moved quickly towards the door and looked to see that the hunters were standing and waiting. Conner sighed and relaxed a bit seeing that the hunters were here and not trying to kill one another.

Conner turned the knob and opened the door, looking to see the hulking Adam standing before the door, along with several other hunters. "Ah. I'm glad to see that everyone is getting along just fine" he said with a thick British accent as he smiled a bit. "Please please come in, you are expected. I am Doctor LeStrange" he said as he looked at the hunters, moving out of the way and inviting them inside. "We shall adjourn to the study, feel free to warm yourselves by the fire and make yourselves some drinks" he remarked with a light tone.

The doctor lead the rag tag group through the manor; passing by lavish statues and paintings as he lead the way into the study. Conner opened the large doors to reveal the massive fireplace, books beyond counting. A map of the world. A bar. Anything that you might wish. The room was decorated in a rather tasteful manner. Oil paintings dawned the walls, statues were there as well. There was china, silver, various other priceless heirlooms and artifacts. He was glad to see that everyone was getting along and hoping it could stay this way.

Conner walked slowly through the room and produced his pipe from his coat, packing fresh tobacco in and lighting it with a match as he took a few puffs to get it burning. "I realize many of you may have questions and I realize that many of you are curious as to why you are all here. It would surprise me a great deal if none of you were curious as to why a stranger summoned you to an organization you've never heard of" he said as he moved through the middle of the room, making sure to make eye contact with everyone.

---

Adam remained silent as the hunters began to arrive one after the other. Adam was incredibly still aside from his own breathing. His breath fogged in the cool air as he glanced at the fellow hunters. A man clad in armor that was nearly as tall as he was. Adam however was still much larger. He could hear discussions and turned a bit more as one of the hunters offered a bite of bread. Adam's expression went from rather blank to that of confusion. Kindness was a rarity to him. Especially given his rather grotesque appearance and his immense size.

As Adam turned and looked to the young man, you could see just how scarred his face and body was. True he was put together but the man appeared to be pieced together and held together by stitches and luck. Adam reached slowly and took a small piece of the bread, giving a slight nod in appreciation. He popped the piece into his mouth and chewed slowly as the massive door opened. Before him stood a bearded man who appeared to be in his 40s. He almost appeared to be a college teacher. Wise in his own way. Adam was quiet as the man welcomed them into the manor itself and remained quiet as he followed this Doctor LeStrange. The manor was enormous in size. Even by his own standards, he fit perfectly with plenty of room for him to fit through the doors.

The study was even more massive than the manor hallways itself. The fireplace was impressive, the study itself was impressive. "My god, I've never seen so many books in my life" he said in a quiet tone. Adam was completely astounded at this monument to knowledge. Edgar Allen Poe, Mary Shelly, Washington Irving, geniuses of their time. Adam couldn't help but scowl as he looked over Mary Shelly's work. It annoyed him to say the least but he said nothing as he slipped off his hood, revealing his face for all to see. Horribly scarred, one eye a different shade than the other. One blue, one brown.

---

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MENTIONED: @LordofTheNight @Inertia @potatochipgolem

@LordOfTheNight@potatochipgolem@LazyEgg

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"Ah. I'm glad to see that everyone is getting along just fine" A thick British accent called out, opening the unnecessarily large- yet beautifully embellished doors. Judging by the aura he was giving off he was someone of importance, but Akio just scoffed it off, the fight between Monsters and Humans need not carry gratuitous titles and rankings- just men and their war against the dark. Well, atleast that's what Akio personally thought, not that he was going to give it away or anything

They were led through a stretching hallway, alluring and ornated, almost gleaming a pure, incandescent white. Rows and rows of intricate paintings littered brilliantly on the walls, each and every painting having minute touches to them. Looking closer, each painting were signed by painters- all renowned and high class, ranging from renaissance to traditional oriental. It was a rather pleasant sight to behold, but these all looked incredibly pricey. They even passed by some masterfully crafted statuettes on lavish pedestals. Surely a place like this wouldn't get targeted from attempted robbery.

Finally, after two heavy baroque-esque doors were swung open, music could be heard playing from the furnished Gramophone. A western tune, it played a soft, rhythmic melody- soothing to the mind and body. "We shall adjourn to the study, feel free to warm yourselves by the fire and make yourselves some drinks" As those words left the man's mouth, the pipsqueak spoke up, "I've worked with your people before, sir. The Order, was it? I hunted and brought down Wendigos alongside a fellow assigned to me-" Mid speech the young man took a glance at Akio. He shot him a scowl in kind. Ignoring the rest of his rather boorish and unneeded words he sauntered towards the bar counter. Took a seat on one of the high reaching stools and grabbed a drink.

He slid 180 on his bar stool, now leaning leisurely against the counter. With a hard cider in hand. Usually he would try to avoid being inebriated since it eventually wears down your body- and by extension your reflexes, which were very necessary for 'work'. But sometimes, Akio drowns himself in beer- to forget, even if just for a single fleeting moment, to forget that... night. He snapped his gaze from his reflection on the cider, almost crystal clear in appearance. After a few sips, he turned towards the main individual behind this;

"Before anything. Aren't introductions in order." Akio scoffed, drink in tow "Being elusive is not really an excuse for formality." with those words said, he got off the stool and walked over towards the bookcases. He scanned the area, checking if it was alphabetically ordered, and indeed it was. After glancing over the 'W' section he found exactly ONE book about his 'hunting choice', well from the short amount of time he searched. A book about Wendigo's. He carried the book and drink, and lazily plopped down one leg crossed in an open, single seat, slightly adjacent towards the fire.



While the illustrations were... rough at best, it was close enough that a hunter would be able to identify it, probably. He skimmed through the books, it had what one would expect reading a book like this- a limited worded description of the beast, it's weaknesses- obviously fire and some odd weapons. General warnings about it's speed and precision. It even put down common myths, such as a human would not turn into a Wendigo if it was scratched, rather a human would turn into one if it performed the act of cannibalism. The book was atleast adequate, it would give a rough idea of what a hunter would expect when trying to fight this creature- even if it IS limited. However it missed a few key details, like voice mimicry or how the monster cannot pass through Anasazi symbols. These key details may even be the line between life or death- so Akio was a bit irked at it's lack of information. Well given that Wendigo's weren't exactly prominent on the West as it is on the East, it is to be expected. Akio wanted to jot down these information and draw the symbols, but he figured that he shouldn't really be touching or altering these books.

"That's nothing to worry about, sir. In fact, you don't look half as bad as you probably think! I will hold on to some of this bread until you start feeling peckish. Just let me know when you would like one."

A quiet hearty chuckle replied Young Salvyn's words, oh how wrong he was, odd how the mood took such a brighter turn in mere moments. Humans are fickle. But that's not always a bad thing. He detered the curious young man's efforts to peer into his visor with an innocuous glance to the side, a game he had played many times and long mastered months ago.

But a sudden glimpse in the wrong direction. That was when he saw the face of their fourth member in the cloudy noonlight.

...The stiches, the split face, flesh as pale as a cadaver's and the tell-tale signs of golemetry etched into the very skin of the creature. "By the maker...." He hushed.

...
...
...

It was then that a wisened man broke the silence by opening the doors and welcoming them inside. Just as well. Had they lingered any longer, he might have began to question the horrid events that must have led to such disfiguration. But This was yet the time for such.

As the three walked in, the armored man trailed behind, guarding their exit. Likely in quiet contemplation throughout the walk. But it was hard to tell what he was thinking, and only till they reached the study did he stop looking over his shoulder.

"...It would surprise me a great deal if none of you were curious as to why a stranger summoned you to an organization you've never heard of." This Doctor LeStrange was right. He was curious. Though he could fathom the motive behind all this, since it was surely not chance that brought them here.



He watched quietly and just stood there as Salvyn promptly asked the question that was on everyone's mind. The room curiously got brighter. Eliciting yet another "Hmm." from him. However the young man's companion quickly chimed in, tearing attention towards himself and asked, nay, demanded, that everyone introduced themselves first before anything - while he himself strolled from the bar to one of the many bookshelves that lined the room just to sit down and ignore them once more. The boy was a bit more rude than the knight had expected.

He had a feeling the two young men already knew each other, through the subtle scowls thrown Salvyn's way when he wasn't looking. Then he looked at the stiched-up individual, quite certain there would be little comfort for that fella in introducing himself first either. And Doctor LeStrange had already given them his name.

"Very well," He suddenly spoke after not having said anything for quite awhile, though not too glad to be asked of this way, still he remained formal and calm. Perhaps an abrupt moving of things along would ease the building tensions in the room. Raising his right hand, he lightly punched his breastplate with his knuckles with a resounding metal clang. "I am Ser Gregory Sullivan. Knight Pontiff of the Templar Order." The red cross of his society was etched into the pauldrons of his armor. "I have come to see for myself your Order and what it stands for. And if our goals align, you shall have my aid."



Simple, direct and clear cut. This was how Templars introduced themselves, for their Order was not one of shadows, but rather, a well-established domain in the eye of the Britanian public under the scrutiny of her majesty. Even if what they truly did was not declared. Still they would not hide their pressence from the people. Prevention is better than cure and Reputation sometimes proved to be just as vigil as any guard against the darkness that lurks among men.

Claire had been somewhat delayed by a balky horse. Not that she minded too much. Witches and the Vatican had a long and obviously contentious relationship. Best to get the task done and get out before she ended upon a roasting spit.

She had dressed simply, a homespun brown dress and hood. Fortunately, a doorman was there to point her in the right direction. "Thank ye, kind sir." She raced down the halls a little too quickly, and her foot caught the hem of her dress. A little judiciously applied telekinesis was not nearly enough to stop her fall, but it did take the edge off the impact.

She managed to make her way into the study, panting slightly as she did so. "My apologies for being late."

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MENTIONED: @LordofTheNight @Inertia @potatochipgolem @shagranoz

Un òme de mestièr impar intra dins un endrech impar per intrar dins un mestièr mei impar.*

*Translation: A man of a strange trade enters a strange place to enter an even stranger trade.

_____

There it was. A rather unassuming building in the block, if you could call anything "unassuming" in this place. The whole city seemed emit an unpleasantly pompous glow.

The crows have made themselves quite a gilded nest, I'll give them that.

But perhaps Jean Ruel's discomfort had more to do with his acute awareness of how out of place he appeared. Sure, taking a temporary post as a caravan guard had given him the cover of pilgrims and a little gold to boot on the way from Nice to Rome and into the Vatican. But now it left him looking like an eagle had picked him up from the forest and dropped him in the city streets with his thick hunter's jacket, wool cap, back-pack, and long-rifle (somewhat poorly concealed as a walking stick).

It's only been a few blocks he reassured himself, suppressing the instinct to look back over his shoulder. He could see the door open ahead; apparently he was a tad late to the party. He picked up his pace to make it inside before any attendants decided they had waited long enough to shut the door. From there he needed only follow the sounds of chatter to make it to the study.

"My apologies for being late."

Jean chuckled as he entered the room to this phrase, spoken by a woman in peasant garb. Perhaps I'll be able to get along with some of these people after all, he mused, though he was less sure about the suit of armor and the men in finer dress.

"Fancy meeting you, miss. My name is Salyvn, and that fellow over there in the nice suit in Ser Gregory."..."There's a bag of bread on the sofa, if you're feeling in the mood for it. Have a seat!"

Bread? Any doubts about attending this meeting were dispelled with that word.

"What a relief, I see I'm not the only offender!" he announced in English, which seemed to be the common language in the room. His accent was decent, but far from perfect. "Greetings, colleagues," he added warmly to the trio before him. The "ea" sounded more like an "eh," and he failed to avoid adding a bit of an extra syllable "a" at the end. "My name Jean Ruel, and it is an honor to meet you Sénhers Salvyn and Gregory and Dòna...what is your name?" Even as he spoke, he did not hesitate to reach for the sofa to grab a small loaf.

MENTIONED: @LordofTheNight @Inertia @potatochipgolem @shagranoz @LazyEgg

House Modius. Has he heard the name somewhere before? He could not remember. Maybe in one of Sullivan's longwinded tales by the campfire under starlight, but even he did not remember those. No one could. They had much detail and not enough excitement. Physical capabilities, the lad said? He craned his neck over his shoulder to reaffirm what Salvyn looked like again .......and reminded himself not to judge a book by it's cover. Especially in the world they lived in. The ACTUAL world they lived in. Stranger things have happened than a boy with the strength of ten men.

Just then a lass who bore more resemblance to a housewife than a guest to this cause, barged into the room with not so much a shred of grace anywhere in sight. The young lady skidded, oddly, a few feet forward as the ground somehow refused to accept her - and would have touched Sullivan's metal heel with her face had she gone a foot further. The unelegant display made the Templar knight cringe, his hand instinctively shirked to his heart. Then a farmiliar voice called out. A Magician, Modius called her. He visibly glanced at the young man once more.

However, the commotion did not end, not seconds later did another fellow make his way through the still-shaking doors. This time with a weapon clearly in hand and rags not exactly fit for the occasion, if he had not introduced himself as 'John Roo-el' nor looked unsuprised at the guests in the manor, the knight might have mistaken him for a burglar. A very daring burglar. It would have been an effective ruse afterall to send an innocent young thing into the room to distract everyone, and when all eyes were on her - demand payment at gunpoint without a moment's warning.

...though he considered greeting the new arrivals first, Modius already had that well and covered with a bit of spunk. It also did feel rather ungentlemanly to see a woman fall and do nothing, thus a set of cold, steely arms would soon reach down and with the lady's consent - lift the her back to her feet. Albeit indelicately. Like he was just trying to sit a sack of potatoes upright. Not very gentlemanly either. Oh well. Courtesy can only go so far when you're wearing 130 pounds of steel.



MENTIONED: @LordofTheNight @Inertia @potatochipgolem @shagranoz @LazyEgg [@Aspenlvan]

A pair of heavily armored arms wrapped around Claire and helped her to her feet. She glanced at their owner. "Thank you kindly, but I'm quite capable of helping myself."

"I'm Claire." The young woman gave Jean Ruel a nod. "It does seem that we have quite a motley collection of souls on our hands. I think we should all explain what we plan to contribute to the group. I myself have learned several spells, and have a small pool of spiritual references I can call up. If ye need information, I'm your lass, but you'd be best served leaving the fighting to someone else."

A small book floated over to Claire's hand as she beckoned, and the witch caught it with a wink and a smile. "That said, I can certainly hold my own if things get ugly, so I like to think I'm well-rounded. How about the rest of you?"

Conner looked to the massive Adam as he looked over the massive collection of knowledge. True their were priceless artifacts throughout the home; vases from the Ming Dynasty, statues carved from the finest marble, even artifacts of historical significance such as the Spear of Longinus. The very spear that pierced the side of Christ and killed him. However, the most valuable was the books. Knowledge that could make even the most mediocre of hunters into a finely tuned killer of creatures. Anyone can fire a pistol, hold a sword, but a real hunter has the knowledge on how to kill a monster. At least that was Conner's opinion.

As each hunter introduced themselves, Conner moved about the room and took occasional puffs of his pipe. Conner looked to Salyvn as he mentioned that he'd worked for the Order before beside Aiko but he'd never been summoned to the heart of the Order. He asked a valid question, why now? Conner sighed slightly and took the pipe from his lips.

"A wonderful question and one that warrants an answer. As Salyvn has mentioned, you have all been hunting for some time. Some of you have hunted along with the Order, others have hunted on their own time, why would I summon this motley crew of hunters to an organization none of them have heard about? Put simply, a storm is coming" he said.

He noticed a few confused look and spoke. "The Order has existed since man began hunting these creatures. At the time, it had been a vampire here, a werewolf there, however according to our documents something came about that forced the strongest of hunters to band together. An enemy so powerful it could unite these monstrous creatures. I do believe that enemy has returned after years of slumber. I have been receiving reports concerning an increase in monster activity, whether it be an increase in number or hostile attacks" he mentioned.

---

Adam looked to the various hunters as they introduced themselves. Werewolf hunters, wendigo hunters, vampire hunters, each an expert in their own field. He ran a hand through his long brown hair and found himself sizing up the various hunters. Call it a habit. He was used to experiencing human cruelty. Sooner or later he may be forced to fight these people because he isn't their definition of a "human being". Of all the hunter, the knight seemed the most intimidating. The suit of armor was massive and had to weigh more than a few hundred pounds. It would take some serious muscle to weigh a suit of armor like that.

Adam looked to the doctor as he explained that something was making these creatures stir. "I find it difficult to believe a group of savages could band together to hunt these monsters in force but I suppose a serious enough threat could be a good motivator. I can't deny the influx of activity. I've been seeing more daemon activity in the past month alone and it's only getting worse" he mentioned.

---

Sullivan listened closely as Connor explained the circumstances of their situation, not that he would have paid less attention if it was anyone else. Of course. But back in Albion, civilized clothing and pipesmoke often made words heavier when spoken through that very same mouth.

" ...I do believe that enemy has returned after years of slumber. I have been receiving reports concerning an increase in monster activity..."

Why is it always left to sleep? We have fire. He mumbled, with only Claire his sole audience. His glance shot towards the hearth. Maybe he will find out ...



Then it was adam's, the odd amalgamation of body parts, turn to speak. In the less dreary lights of the inner halls, he could now make out the finer features of this particular individual. Sullivan was not too enthusiastic about making him uncomfortable by leering at him, until he spoke that is-

"...I find it difficult to believe a group of savages could band together to hunt these monsters in force but I suppose a serious enough threat could be a good motivator."

"Band of savages?" His metallic voice quipped. Getting insult thrown his way out of the blue mid-conversation, the Knight couldn't help but feel a pang of indignation. Especially when he has been nothing but civilized thus far. He looked Adam up and down, his helm squeaking with each purposeful movement. "Look at you, all civilized in those tavern-rags. Tell me, is blood stain or spittle more fashionable nowadays?"

@shagranoz@LordOfTheNight