Nocturne

It all ended, abruptly, as far as my research can show. Hours pouring over the scant few manuscripts available. What I can best describe for you, dear reader, is that the sky was filled with hell fire. The world burned, white ash filling the sky, the ground burnt. The sky driven asunder. Then the Beasts came, and savage aberrations in the mockery of human flesh, but the worst of all was the Wolves. Werewolves is the name humanity gave them, fueled by a need to consume humans, they spread like a plague. All of these demons. Destroying the last vestiges of hope. Save one, Vampires, led by the Elders of their race. Together they, and the surviving humans, took the war of survival to the horrors of the night head on. Blood baths extending years with countless lives lost. But in the end, Nocturne was forged from the fire, a beacon in the night. Nocturne, the moonlight glow of our two kindred's intertwined together, for it is all that stands between oblivion and us.



Now the Elders you ask, the enigmatic progenitors of all Vampires, the source of their very existence made manifest. They where the first of their kind. There might have been more of them, but only three is there recorded definitively, but that is just conjecture. There is Vlad, the general and stalwart as stone; Marcusz Aurelian, the philosopher and patron of the arts; Amelia the warrior and deliverer of justice. All three of them alternating in their duties as rulers. Though they do not proscribe themselves as monarchs. One ruling while the other two slumber. Only more than one being awake in times of need. It is through their wise hands we have endured.

But credit must be given where it is due. Nocturne's strength flows from its people. The Nine Provinces that make up our great realm. A land constantly beset by threats within and without.-Excerpt from the Personal Memoirs of former Court Historian Vergil.

April 27th, 800.

In the eight-hundredth year since the founding of our glorious realm, the province of Morhemia was stricken with rebellion, The Cult of the Savior Christ, a radical religious group that had festered in the Province has taken up arms in secession. At a time when the Lords of Morhemia are constantly beset by the Winter raids of the Lycans and Germanic raiders. Count Vaclav VIII of Praha and several barons converted to the Cult gathered their levies around the ruins of Prague. Around the fortress that stands in the middle of the ruined city. The stone rubble being the only reminders of a civilization long since reduced to dust. I traveled with the main army led by all three Elders personally. Arriving on the 27th of February well before the snows had melted away. Before the rebels deemed they where under immediate threat. They where wrong. I must go for now. -Letter to Anja, Vergil's wife.

The Siege of Prague, the most recent siege of large magnitude, over 25,000 soldiers took part on the side of Nocturne alone. The Rebels it was estimated to number over 30,000 for they had taken their wives and children into the vast fortress occupying the central portion of the ruined city. The snow crunching under foot by the countless boots and armored shoes of the besiegers as they stormed the outer ruins. The fighting was fierce and bloody as the Provincial levies and Guard fought their way from ruin to ruin. Across galleries, half sunken bridges, room to room, even staircases half worn away were fought over savagely.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH." Vergil snapped out of his literary sermon as a roar came from his rear. Stylus in hand he whipped around, the shortsword on his waist not drawn, his armor heavy on his under developed frame. Vergil's eyes widened as a mail festooned man with a great brown beard swung an axe. Thunk. His left eye erupted into red mist as an arrow lanced into his skull. The man died grasping the shaft as Vergil whirled around once more. A Guard archer had saved his life, but had already moved on, as the din and cries of battle carried on. The battle had divulged into groups of rebels and loyalists fighting a moving war through the bewildering streets and ruined neighborhoods. Vergil could see Guard archers firing at rebels running in the streets at ranges no more than twenty meters distant. Both groups could even be in the same structure, but on different floors, fighting in demolished buildings whose original purpose was long since lost. A crackling whipped over head, Vergil look up, in time to see a barrage of flaming shot fired from the trebuchets and catapults sitting just outside the ruins. Some of them where solid shot that burst through walls and collapsed towers. Others had caskets and jars filled with Hellfire. A substance originating from Konstantia. A substance that burned hotter when water was poured onto it. It was known as Grecian Fire by the Konstantian's. Showering flame across courtyards and into buildings. The cries of men as their flesh bubbled and sloughed off caused Vergil to blink in terror.

"You. Boy. Stay out of the way."

Vergil felt an armored hand grasp him firmly on the shoulder, spinning him around, it was General Nieman. Nieman was a human and with him was a company of Guardsmen who fanned out to clear the remaining rebels in the area. "But I--."

"Get out of here. Go back to the command tent!" shouted Nieman as he shoved Vergil out of the way. Beginning to bark orders to his soldiers. The Siege had gone on since late February. Fighting was still heavy and the rebels had ample food stocks to last a year. Vergil hurried to the rear. Using his briefly gained knowledge of the streets to find a plaza. The cobblestones decayed and almost governed fully with grass. A tent had been pitched and surrounded by Death Dealers. The vampire soldiers loyal solely to the Elders. They eyed Vergil as he entered the tent. It was large, able to comfortably house over fifty individuals, tables and chairs had been set up, some covered with maps or other dispatches. But it was the voices in the tent that gave Vergil pause. He froze.

"Your Historian returns Marcusz. With his head still attached." The voice of Vlad held the slightest sign of contempt. Contempt for his peers bookish pets. Perhaps not pet, but pupils perhaps, either way Vlad held a disdain for the notion. But didn't bear any ill will to Vergil personally. Marcusz stood across from Vlad, his helmet off, crimson hair down to his shoulders. His green eyes held a friendly semblance to Vlads cold indifference. "Come. Take your notes." said Marcusz as the elder turned away. Vergil scurried up to the table awkwardly and began scribbling.

"We have begun to reach the river in several more locations My Lords and secured the last stone bridge standing. Nieman expects the ruins to be completely cleared within a day or two." said a Guardsman in the livery of a Captain.

"Tell Nieman to consolidate and prepare for the final assault on the fortress itself. Is the siege equipment ready?" replied Vlad. The captain nodded but spoke once more. "There is something else My Lords. The raid by the Death Dealers last night on the rebel outpost in the southern district, well, we found something."

"Such as." said Marcusz now curious. The soldier looked at both Elders for a moment, "Sewers."

"We need more than shit to end this nuisance Captain." sneered Vlad.

"I beg your pardon My Lord. But we think we found an entrance into the inner courtyard of the castle through them."

"I will go." The female voice, sultry, came from behind Vergil. Causing the historian to jump, dropping his stylus on the table, and drawing a chuckle from Marcusz while Vlad looked annoyed. Vergil took a step to the side. Bringing into his vision the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Amelia. The female Elder. She was armored, blades at her hips, crossbow slung over her back. Vlad nodded, as did Marcusz, but Vergil made to speak. "Yes you may go." Marcusz answer was all Vergil needed. The historian chased after the rapidly receding back of Amelia.

---

The Sun had sunk beneath the clouds when Amelia, with Vergil in tow, arrived at the sight of a raid carried out last night on a rebel outpost within site of the castle's Southern walls. The bodies smeared with dried gore and coagulated blood still occupied the positions they had been when life left them. A gathering of at least twenty Death Dealers, a company of Guardsmen, and a gaggle of knights and accompanying men-at-arms from the provinces were there. Amelia was led down to where the water of the river coursed by. A slick stone staircase led down to an entrance. The gloom was impenetrable. Amelia walked in with the soldiers following. Vergil clutching his journal as he desperately tried to use the nearest torch held by a soldier to write. For while Amelia and the Death Dealers did not require light to see in the dark, the human soldiery and Vergil did, so the vampires led the way. Moving through the labyrinthine underground. Vergil had heard stories from soldiers about the underground places in Prague. For fighting had drifted down into the sewers as well in other locations. Mockingly called the 'Underworld War' by the soldiers of Nocturne. Vergil didn't exactly want to get stuck in a close range melee fight.

The group kept walking, the slimy walls, the stench causing soldiers to cough. Eventually they arrived in a circular damp chamber. Dim light came down in a straight shaft. Water dripped from the ceiling. Amelia squinted upwards. Making hand signals to nearby soldiers, gestures to Vergil that seemed random, a series of crossbows where produced. Amelia made ready as if to pounce when a Death Dealer spoke up. "Please my lady let us go first." Vergil had learned a few of the soldiers names during the two month siege. The Death Dealer in question was named Reinhardt and his closest compatriot to his left was Beaufort. Amelia straightened and stepped back. Both dealers moved near the shaft in the ceiling just large enough for a few people to crawl through at the same time. Both leapt into the air and grasped the stone with their hands. Their vampiric grip and strength allowing them to climb unaided. But it was still exhausting work as they tried to keep quiet. That much Vergil could tell. Amelia leapt up into the shaft right after followed by other Death Dealers. Vergil peered trying to get a better look. Seeing Beaufort take off his helm to peer over the edge of the stone lip. Before putting it back on and rolling over the edge into the unknown. Reinhardt and Amelia followed a second later. That was when the human soldiers bearing crossbows moved to the lip and fired. The bolts replaced with grappling hooks that hooked over the lip and allowed them to clamber up while the Death Dealers one by one leapt up.

Vergil grunted with the effort, his journal held between his teeth, his stylus tucked within his belt. Grunting as he pulled himself up, sounds above erupting, he felt claustrophobic. Using this to propel himself with renewed vigor he reached the edge of the lip. Crack a bolt skittered as it struck the stone next to him. They had climbed up through an empty well, Vergil could only assume what the ancients had built it for, but the walls of the castle reared up in all directions. Cries from all directions growing louder at the surprise of the Nocturne forces erupting into the center of the castle became known to the rebel garrison. Vergil tumbled over the lip onto the grass of the courtyard. Looking about himself he saw humans versus human, vampire versus human, and corpses littering the courtyard in increasing frequency.

Vergil saw Beaufort swing his axe, a rebel soldiers head rolling from his shoulders; Reinhardt stabbed another man through the neck with his sword. Others fired crossbows at point blank range followed by drawing their main weapons. Amelia was in the thick of it all. Her sword slicing through limbs, necks, and puncturing torsos. The sky illuminated by a thousand flaming arrows as the assault began by Vlad and Marcusz outside the castle. Vergil moved, crouching, moving from cover to cover taking it all in. The horrific cries, the gush of blood, and the beautiful fury of Amelia as she tore through rebel after rebel. Vergil was captivated. A grunt to his left, Vergil fell backwards, a sword buried itself in the dirt. A sword came over his head, catching the foe in the fore arm, causing the man to scream. A second blow opened up the enemy's jugular. Vergil looked up to see Reinhardt, "Watch yourself." The vampire dashed off as the fury of battle spread from the courtyard up to the ramparts and the walls. Nocturne soldiers still streamed up out of the shaft while it seemed others clambered over ladders carried over by raft from across the river. The rebel archers and crossbowmen delivering withering fire, but caught off guard by the fight in the courtyard, were pressed in two directions.

"WATCH OUT." Vergil heard someone shout as a flaming projectile the size of his torso struck a nearby tower. Causing chunks of masonry to plummet into the courtyard. Squashing those caught in this deadly shower to bloody pulp. Vergil drew his shortsword, clutching it close, as he ran to the nearest group of soldiers. Seeking to surround himself by comrades. He was no fighter. But he felt the urge to be closer to Amelia. So he ran in her direction. Weaving through battling soldiers. As he was about to reach her, a whirlwind of death, a howl pierced his heart. Vergil looked up towards the gate of the main keep. Flung open he saw figures dressed in the livery of the priesthood of the Cult. Except they where hunched over, jerking about, their bodies changing right before his very eyes. It was a hideous display as their faces elongated, fingers into claws, fur sprouting from their skin. Savage eyes and maws.

"To me! Take them head on!" bellowed Amelia as the soldiers of Nocturne closest to her followed her into a furious charge. Lycan, Vampire, and Human met in a clash of steel and claw. Fang and tooth. Vergil watched as Amelia grabbed a Lycan by the throat, heaved, and smashed it maw first into the ground. Her blade stabbing it through the heart. Vergil watched as Reinhardt opened a Lycan from neck to groin with his sword. Watched a Lycan tear a man's arms off while another swiped is claws to decapitate another soldier. It was something Vergil never wished to see again. Something that would haunt him to the end of his days.

That's when he saw it, a Lycan prowled the upper battlements of the gatehouse leading into the main keep, Vergil watched in horror as it leapt from its place of hiding. Smashing a Death Dealer aside as it charge bodily into Amelia. Amelia flew ten yards back to crash next to Vergil. The historian held out his sword timidly as the beast roared in. Galloping with its front claws and back paws. Its jaw able to hold a human head easily. That's when he felt in a pain in his side, followed by a feeling of weightlessness, he crashed onto his stomach. Looking back he saw Amelia standing, fangs bare, roaring in challenge. She was disarmed! The beast would surely rend her from head to toe! It widened its jaw as it leapt with such speed you'd miss it if you blinked. Amelia rolled, coming up behind the creature, and with a savage scream leapt onto its back. Grasping it's upper and lower jaw she snarled. Vergil watched as this angel of death shattered the beasts maw, ripped off its lower jaw, and struck it over the head with it. She looked at the historian, and Vergil swore he saw the trace of a smile.

Horns blew along the walls. Marcusz and Vlad had taken the outer defenses and Vergil could see Marcusz among the upper battlements fighting his way along the upper ramparts.

---

The Siege, and the encounter with the Lycans, sealed the fate of the situation. While Marcusz sought clemency for the children and women, urging them to be examined, and if proven to be not Lycans be able to leave. Vlad and Amelia would hear none of it. Vergil was forbidden by Marcusz to write of what followed. Only that the siege ended in a great victory. No mention would be of the Death Dealers slaughtering all the thousands of innocents cowering in the keep and cellars. Not one of the rebels escaped the Siege.

Vergil would go on to release a history of the 8th Century ending with the Siege of Prague. Followed by self-imposed exile to the Ionian Confederacy. For in the culmination of the Siege Vergil realized one thing.

Nocturne, the vampires, they are not so different from the Lycans in their savagery. The only difference is that the Vampires believe Humans to be their allies. The reality is that they would not hesitate to sacrifice a thousand humans to keep Nocturne stable.-Last Letter to Anja, for Vergil died of natural causes in the Winter of 825.

Valeria, 833 (2833AD)
In the Thirty-Third Year of Amelia's Rule

Valeria, the greatest city in the known world. Stretching up a spur of the Northern-Carpathian Mountains, with plains and woodland stretching south, was a site to behold. Stretching from the level of the plains at the bottom, up the spur to the Nocturnis Mons, The Mountain of Night, the citadel of the Council and Elders over two thousand feet from the plain. The top of the towers reaching 2,300 feet above the plains below, the obsidian black fortifications of the citadel contrasted with the white stone of the city. The golden and silver domes of the Inner Districts, and the Red, blue, and purple domes of the Lower districts. Each district had a slight variation in color and locale. The Artists District which holds the Alchemists Corner was renowned for producing a variety of aromas and devices; the Builder's Guild with its carpenters and engineers worked feverishly; the bankers of Gold-Notch-Alley arrayed with their family crest emblazoned above their doors.

The city was prosperous as the Sun rose to noon. Its bustling activity blocked by the closed windows and doors of the Council chambers. The Council Hall was a grand gallery arrayed in a semi-circle. On the flat wall, facing South, sat the reigning Elder on a simple stone throne, the Court scribe to their left; arrayed before them where the simple benches of the Council and attending Provincial representatives. For the Provinces could have a representative present to voice concerns, but could not cast a vote.

Amelia sat, wearing fine blue silks, her hair braided. She sat with her back straight as the clamor of politicians filled the air. It was an open session. No organized list of items to discuss. Anyone could have the floor and make proposals, civilians could bring petitions, and lobbyists could line pockets. Amelia despised the politicking aspect of her duties. But while Marcusz and Vlad slept it was her turn to act as the chief executive force in Nocturne.

Valeria was a wasteful place. Perhaps Gold-Notch-Alley wasn't the most appropriate place for getting an unbiased impression of the great city, but domes of noble metal visible up the mountain were reason enough to start thinking: Wouldn't the world, erm, Nocturne, be a bit of a better place if wealth would be a bit less concentrated ? It was an inherently unstable system that made it easier for those to accumulate more who already had much of it.

At least that was what Hatuum thought as he was walking along the streets. He wore a black dyed, thick and woolen cloak that reached from his shoulders down to almost his feet and was held in place by a no less black girdle spanning tightly around his huge waist. His hair of medium length was combed left and right, forming a neat parting in the middle. That would have to suffice for getting into the Council chambers. Since Valeria was basically on Hatuum's way back to the western provinces attending a public hearing couldn't hurt, could it ? Not that he was interesting in the palaver going on in there. It was the early acquired knowledge that words and official threats were not the only way a political dispute could be won. The fact of it being an open session would also mean that a lot of other rich and influential persons would be present. He could act as a silent lobbyist for himself by picking the right, subtle hints. Or, which was not that unlikely, just by getting recognized by someone with the right interests.

Hatuum felt the constant pressure of eyes staring at him from behind. Some people stepped sideways as he approached them, some others just stood there and turned their heads as he evaded them. It certainly was no new phenomenon, but he still felt better the moment the large doors closed behind him. Now where to sit ? In search for an adequate position, the man squeezed himself through the already rather densely packed crowd. Several persons grumbled as he temporarily blocked their vision, but he finally found a place where he wouldn't do so permanently - there just wasn't anyone around him. Still the bench gave a cracking noise when Hatuum sat down, his knees being situated so much higher than his bottom that he could rest his arms and head on them without bending too much.

He stared down towards Amelia. Seeing an Elder was a very rare sight for him.

Valeria, a city of wonders, the eternal city... Valeria could be called by many names, but honestly, Alenios preferred to call it The Elder City, for it truly was just that, but not because of it's age, simply because of the fact that the three Elders resided and ruled from it's throne. For him, it didn't matter if it was Valeria or a small keep, it was his own duty to be at Amelia's side, it was his duty to protect her, even if he now was a count and simply her bodyguard as it had been so much time ago.

His seat was close Amelia's cold, stone throne, he could intervene and snap the necks of any hapless assassin that would foolishly try to harm the woman he would give his life for... but it wasn't close enough for him. Sure enough, he knew that Amelia favored him above other in her personal life, it was due to that that he had been awarded the title of count of Sibiu in the first place and due to that that back in Transylvania, he would sit the closest to her, but here... where all the dukes and counts were present, it would be more respectful to have the higher ranked dukes sit closer to her... he disliked this hierarchical ladder, but it was a necessary thing to make the dukes feel more important than they actually were, it was necessary to keep them happy if they were not rebel.

However, he could not show his discontent, his displeasure in this, for this was Valeria, he had to be courteous and he had to smile. For everyone there, his smile would seem like a genuine one a, smile that showed kindness for the ranks of society lower than his and respect to the societal ranks higher than his own. This smile was a forced one however... horribly forced for him, but only a select few would probably notice this, one of them being Amelia, he had been so many years by her side that she could read his expression and understand what he was feeling. The same thing worked for him, he knew what she thought by merely looking at her expression, she wanted to fight, not to sit here listening to the ramblings of peasants, counts and dukes.

However, he kept his forced smile, for Amelia, this was the least thing he could do... smile and pretend to care what other people thought.

Previously

There was only the slightest of creaking as the wheels of the carriage bit into the road of the countryside road it trundled down. Well maintained and elegant in its styling, it was clear that this was the transport of either someone born of high blood, or rich enough to make up for it. Both factors played into the position of one Anriette Argentine, a position that now meant she found herself surrounded by reports of both mercantile and diplomatic persuasions.

"Sir, could you refrain from staring, it quite puts me off." Her Aquatayne accent, carefully crafted, was pronounced, but not a hindrance to, her Nocturne. It was always best to sound like the nation that you were representing, and even more so, she, along with many others she had encountered, found it rather pleasing.

"I'm watching the road m'lady, I've never once gazed at you." The somewhat perplexed guard captain that sat across from her, in the rather roomy carriage, replied with confusion. He was of this land, but paid by the Embassy. It made him quite useful for excursions out and about, but still, it was clear he was never quite sure if he had offended some sort of Aquatayne tradition.

"Precisely, you're making it impossible to think of nothing but bandits and other rogues out there, surely there are better things to look at then the dark of night." She laughed a little at his sudden expression. Anriette was a fair woman, and rarely dressed to hide it, and she had made to deliberately tease him, before handing over a letter she had yet to cast her eyes over. "Please, read that to me while I check through these accounts." Recovering, the guard soon followed through with her demand, beginning to recount to her the latest communication that the head of the embassy had sent to her. A few minutes passed before a thud shook through the carriage, jostling those within, sending much of the paperwork flying around the carriage as the horse-drawn transport came to a sudden halt, the whiney and scream of horses soon following, before the whole carriage began to sag.

"Wait here m'lady, I'll see what this is about." The captain drew his blade before exciting the carriage, his form followed by the concerned gaze of the lady in his charge, once the door was shut, Anriette busied herself in restoring her hair to its proper place, a few ginger strands having come loose in the commotion. When the twang of crossbows and the thud of a body striking the ground resounded from outside, the woman could only roll her eyes.

"...Oh for the love of...this was a new gown." With that she stood herself, exciting the carriage. It was a well lit night, and the group of bandits that had gathered around the embellished carriage were treated to a near perfect view of the noblewoman leaving her transport, the ermine gown she wore studded with enough precious stones as to glisten in the moonlight.

"Looks like we've struck lucky lads." The common accent of what must have been their ring leader washed over her, as badly as the smell that emnated from the lot.

"Oh, I rather think you are mistaken." Anriette replied with a grin, which only seemed to grow wider, her teeth suddenly far too large to be contained by such a pretty smile.

---

It had been quite the challenge to secure transport into Valeria after that. The first trader to happen open them of course believed her tear-sobbed story about a combined bandit and subsequent lycan attack, the young noblewoman only surviving by baring herself in the storage of the carriage, her gown torn to pieces by foul men before they had been punished by the arrival of a roving feral wulfen. Alas he wasn't going on the right direction, so had instead taken her to the nearest point of civilisation where she might procure further transportation. This would have been a problem, her with no real funds on her, had she not been able to procure the Argentine seal, in the world of traders, that meant a lot more than the Du'lac family crest she would usually present. With promises of repayment, she had finally been able to make her way to the grand city, on time even, it had been fortunate she had set off early.

While not one to ceaselessly show off, Anriette was aware enough of her own appearance to expect to turn a few heads upon her arrival into the open session that the current vampiric elder was holding. The one that could be bothered to stay awake. That she did, dressed in a gown of blue and gold, a hallmark of Aquatayne, the redheaded beauty met a few of the stares directed her way, making sure to curtsy should they be anyone important enough to warrant it. Taking her place in the hall, provided with a comfy enough seat to rest herself upon, the diplomat contented herself with simply watching the process of Nocturne rule.

Valeria, Council Chambers

The Council Chamber buzzed with activity, the sounds of politicking and litigation, the sounds of the heart of an empire. An empire all in but name, for Nocturne covered a variety of lands and peoples, but remained rather unobstructed in the affairs of the Provinces. Only when necessary did the Council or Elders intervene. Now what was deemed necessary is always up to opinion. Nevertheless the Elders went through great pains to project an image of not being monarchs. They wore no crowns, held no scepters, and save for Amelia who took a title of nobility solely by merit alone do not proscribe themselves as some highborn lord or lady. Despite the fact that most in Nocturne would refer to them as if they were. Calling them lords and lady.

Amelia, regal in her posture, had a face of blank boredom. She had heard it all before. The idle gossip, the sniveling rumors, the backhanded jabs, and the oratory posturing. She snapped the index and thumb of her left hand, a handmaiden swiftly came over with a silver goblet, handing it to Amelia she held it as a crimson liquid was poured into the chalice. Once it was filled the handmaiden stepped away to the side of the hall. Amelia raised the goblet to her nostrils, gently swirling the liquid, smelling the aromas. For it was wine, vampire wine, she could smell the slight traces of iron. The other aromas were of sweet maple, apples, and grapes grown in the Northern vineyards of Tyrstria. It was an excellent Spring blend. Taking a sip, the liquid staining her lips a slightly darker shade of red, she enjoyed the flavor before swallowing.

Casting her eyes about the room, roving like a searchlight, she took in all who was in the crowded room. There where bankers, entrepreneurs, aristocrats, politicians, judicial magistrates, officers, and even artisans. A few of the commoner class were also present, being constituents of some of the politicians present as they heard their pleas, petitions, and grievances. No doubt a few would grace her study by midnight. Nearest to her, blocked by only a few individuals, was Alenios. Count of Sibiu, staunchly loyal to Amelia, so much so that it produced a steady string of gossip about them. The most popular is that Alenios secretly has been bedding Amelia for some time now. Let the vipers tell their fables was Amelia's opinion. As her eyes stopped at Alenios she released a small smile, no doubt others would see it as a sign of silent flirtation, maybe the stories were true? If so Alenios was either insanely lucky, or playing with a very dangerous fire, one that could easily see a head roll. One that certainly wouldn't be Amelia's. Not that Amelia wished him ill will; but that others would see Alenios trying to make a power play and attempt to outright murder him before he could supplant anyone.

Amelia's eyes moved on, like gemstones they shown. Roving to the benches Amelia spotted a large fellow, a giant of a man, a name entered her mind. She had heard of such a fellow, for he seemed to match the description, Haerum? Haddum? Hatam?. Movement on the periphery drew her eyes away, a redhead, an elegant girl. Amelia did not know her, but there was something about her, a glint in her eye. She would have to inquire further.

"My Lady."

Amelia's head snapped back to before her, a Death Dealer knelt, Amelia waved a hand and the warrior rose. "Report from Morhemia." Amelia held out her hand, the soldier took out a parcel and bowing his head handed it to the Elder. Nodding in thanks to the Death Dealer, who promptly left, Amelia snapped open the seals. Several papers packed with scrawling text spanned the pages. As she scanned down the page more and more disturbing information became clear. The Germanic tribes were uniting under a tribal King.

Traditionally fractious, the Germans did occasionally unite under a strong High King, and when they did they made their presence known. The last major invasion was in 778 and took the forces of Morhemia, Veiern, Valeria, and elements from Magyan and Transylvania to decisively end that war. The War lasted a solid ten years from 778-788. This coupled with the Cult of the Savior Christ beginning to spread prompted Marcusz to awaken Vlad and Amelia so that they may deal with the various threats. For the later half of the 8th Century was a time of numerous wars with Nocturne's neighbors.

This darkened Amelia's mood, folding the pages and depositing them on her side she took heavier sips of wine, her face enraptured with thought. Looking at Alenios once more Amelia flicked her head slightly. Indicating for him to situate himself next to her.

As soon as he saw her mood, Alenios rose from his seat, his two Blood Guards moving close to him as if they were his shadows. As soon as he got up, he could hear the people around him start to whisper names. Most of the people there whispered his favorite name, the Bloody Count or names like that, however, a few higher ranked dukes outright whispered the name... lapdog... something which he was not a very big fan of.

However, he could not start arguing with other dukes here in the courts of Valeria, it make him and Amelia look bad. After a few moments of walking where the entire court had his eyes on him, he reached next to Amelia and stood up next to her. He could feel everyone's eyes watching, some were confused looks, some were looks of respect, however, most were looks of jealousy, everyone there probably thinking at why he was deserving to be so close to her when he was such a low rank.

"What is it you wish me to do, my lady?" he asked with a courteous smile before his eyes fell upon the pages detailing the info of the tribes uniting. Part of him felt distress at this as he would have to face a powerful enemy if Amelia sent him to deal with the tribes, but another part of him felt excitement surging through him. So many enemies to kill... so many enemies to capture, a victory would increase his prestige greatly and maybe silence some of the people who judged him.

Either way, he only smiled and awaited her commands, he would obey whatever she would command, even if it meant facing death.

Amiartys rode from dawn, the sun following behind him as he and his Northern Swordsmen arrived to the Elder City of Valeria from the east. Thirty years since the siege of Prague did Amiartys last gaze upon the most opulent and populated city in the world, a time in which he fought alongside many of those who were willing and brave enough to put forth their own lives for a cause that was said to be certain to fail. Though the same could be said against their adversaries during that instant. A grave reminder, as many memories were of battle, written into a person's head as fate is so often written in stone.

It was an old, almost desolate memory, one like many others he wished to forget had he not remembered the valor of many soldiers who fought during that battle. Though valor and honor were common themes to write about in the many grand tales, poems, and songs of an artist, hardly any names of the many souls who fight and died are seldom mentioned and quite often are those names lost in the sands of time. War is hell, they say, for those willing to risk gain either pretentious fame, or serve as lost and once living voices in the eternal sea of echoes were still nonetheless destined to bare witness the horrors of battle. The Siege of Prague being the most recent and bloody battle that Amiartys was ever a veteran of and many considered Amiartys to be an great and forgotten hero, as he led many company men and men-at-arms when they could not find any shred of motivation to fight in this battle though he was not the only leader of this battle nor the most important. Nonetheless, he did lead, and quite possibly contributed heavily to the victory of this battle.

Amiartys, however, could care less about the historians who chose to not write about him. For only in living so many years and the experience to fill in those many days did he learn and accept modesty as an important developing behavior in contrast to his younger self. So many defeats, and victories, so many distant memories that made him again realize why some vampires and those born 'unnaturally' (as he liked to put it) who are destined to live extended lives sometimes envied humans. Time on this earth for humans and mortals are far more valuable than all the coins or all the valuables in the world, and like currency, it must spend it wisely and meaningfully, something a vampire could easily forget later in the course of his or her unnaturally extended life.

It was rational therefore that the majority of Amiartys's company members would rather prefer to spend their own time outside the affairs of a typical city council gathering and spend time in the city itself, either visiting family or to find recreation as they typically did when reaching a rather large city. Valeria was certainly no exception. After arriving, Amiartys had almost forgotten how formal and intricate political discussions were, not to mention in a major city like Valeria. Perhaps attending the meeting would teach him something of value in his old age of 120 years, though he did not appear an age over 30 he was quite knowledgeable about the world.

The council room itself was fairly crowded, though was large enough to house a host of many others who would wish to take part in political discussion. Many of the faces of the nobles who stood among the higher pedestals were recognizable as they were clients of his who had hired Amiartys for several tasks need to be occupied by a mercenary. A mercenary they knew they could depend on and were never disappointed. He looked around the room with his radiant brown eyes until he saw Amelia the Elder who he had not seen in thirty years since the seige and many others including Alenios the Bloody Count, Anriette Argentine, and Arielle Dyrell who seemed to be bored out of her mind and almost fast asleep listening to typical political discussion. There was also a strange-looking, pale human who looked like a veteran of trained combat who Amiartys thought was another mercenary looking for a job. He wore tribal-like armor which Amiartys found to be rather impractical, though it was his height that drew his attention. He was the tallest man he had ever seen! The man certainly could have not been human for he was eight feet tall and had skin even more pale than his own.

All of Amiartys's five vampire guards remained by his side during the course of the council meeting with the exception of Daramous who needed to attend to a blacksmith in order to purchase ingot for preparations for their next potential job offer. In his place, was a human boy, a fresh recruit to the Northern Swordsmen Company who decided to spend his time in the council hall and remained at Amiartys's side. He was 12, almost 13 in a month and given to Amiartys under certain conditions in which he would not otherwise accept with such meager experience. Although the boy proved that he was an exceptional fighter, he was still just a boy with all the youth and passion life had so temporarily gave him and the rest of his race.

"Have you eva' been ne'er or even seen an Elder before?", he asked almost excitingly, referring to Amelia. Amiartys could almost see the glow in his eyes through his peripheral vision.

"Yes, a few years ago." He exchanged quietly, almost uninterested in what the boy had to say while still keeping an open ear.

"And how long ag'o was tha'?", the boy asked, knowing that a few years for a vampire could easily mean more than fifty to a mortal man well past his prime.

"Thirty. Since the siege of Prague. Didn't I already tell you?"

"I wasn' ther', rememba'? I was ou' into town fetchin' the rations that we so gladly paid those farmers for. Thos' muffins were quite tasty. Ye rememba' don't y-"

"I believe that was Aeros that I intended for that task. Did he make you take his place instead?" He calmly and quietly groaned to himself, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. He tol' me you wanted me to do it." Amiartys almost wanted to sigh. That lazy buffoon he thought to himself. Although the boy was three-months fresh, he was not the only new recruit. Aeros himself had not even been two months introduced to the group when the boy himself was taken in, though he was far more experienced in conflict than most his age. Aeros was also young, being 23 in the height of his own prime. An excellent swordsmen, but an even better bowman who Amiartys could rely on, though not when it came to keeping him in his place as he slowly began to realize within the past month.

"If I wanted summon you for a task, I would've sent you myself. Understand" The boy then nodded. "You should not always do what others tell you to do." He said carefully.

"Oh. So, doe' tha' mean I shouldn't listen to ye" He asked, almost sounding like a tease.

"Yes boy, only if you wish to go back to Milaria with your five older brothers." Amiartys smiled playfully with the boy though couldn't quite tell whether or not he was serious. The boy in return gave a shy grin before looking down submissively. Amiartys wanted to just assume the boy was either stupid or foolish, though he wasn't, in fact not even in the slightest - even if he did look and sounded that way. Naïve was the more appropriate term for a young human boy. The boy was of house Dresos, a noble family who had earned their revenue from farming wheat and corn to the west. Amiartys almost forgotten what it was like being young, truly young. The boy was raised by the Dresos who owned a subtle, modest community which Amiartys believed to breed some of the most competent human farmers and peasant in the land, and they were very well-to-do, even as peasants. Commodry was his name, a boy given to him only because Amiartys gave his word to take him under his wing. A skinny and ragged boy with crooked teeth, brown hair to complement his dusty appearance, and an unorganized complexion. From the beginning of this journey, Amiartys just knew he needed to work on this child and make him into a man as he so promised his family.

In the meantime, there were manners in the council hall that needed to be attended and the conversations transitioned from unimportant, manners to more important and disconcerting ones as the meeting progressed. He could tell just by the looks of Amelia, who always tended to have a poker face. Rumors were beginning to form that Germans just north of the border were patrolling the parameters of Nocturne more frequently and seem to be collaborating with one another. Men of different tribes are often now seen together, sometimes exchanging important conversation in an alarmingly discreet manner, and have been seizing their raids. Dealing with raiders was not uncommon for Amiartys as he dealt with them so many times. So much in fact, he is infamous for slaying many great Germanic warriors though that was long ago even before the battle of Prague. If these rumors were in fact true, he would perhaps be of service as many other mercenaries could be during these potentially troubled times.

The majority of the public session proved itself to be even more boring than Hatuum's anxiety had anticipated. Political discussions of the kind that was going on would not net him any new contract. What had he expected however ? A mercenary's life was no bed of roses, so what should an assassin's life be ? Yet the situation started to become more and more boring at an alarming rate.

The unnaturally pale man started to spend an increasing portion of his time on tasks other than paying attention to the words spoken down there. He heard the large entrance gates open and close multiple times and on almost every occasion, Hatuum turned his head around to look who's coming. Only very few were of real interest for him though - one of them being Amiartys. It had rather not been the man himself that had attracted Hatuum's attention, but the fact that he had gathered five guards around him - and... a boy ? Why would anyone bring a young kid in here ? Hatuum found his words rather erratic and being a clear indication of inexperience. However on the other hand there was some implication behind the mere circumstance that someone who appeared to be as important or at least well-situated like Amiartys was actually willing to have such a person around himself.

Hatuum was on his way making the decision to get up and approach him in a casual manner, but shortly before he was able to finalize his thoughts, things changed down where the elder was talking. So... Germans. He smirked. Why were historians still bothering about taking notes of their malicious activity ? Wouldn't it save a lot of parchment and memory if one started to mention peaceful times only ? His own life hardly covered any timespan worth being mentioned from a vampire's perspective, but he roughly knew what had happened over the course of the late last century. The question was... Was he willing to engage himself in open combat against them ? The thing was bound to earn him something, but it would be quite off his usual approach as well.

Hatuum decided to defer his decision. The issue would not run away from him. Most likely not even the ongoing debate would do since these were prone to last long. The man who many considered to be some sort of strange monster got up sluggishly, turned around and went up the stairs taking several of them at once with each step he made. The mercenary Amiartys was dead ahead and was now approached by him. Hatuum wasn't sure about what to say, but everything would be better than sitting around there and doing... nothing... until things cleared up.

"Hello there."

@Fetzen

The man speaking up drew Alenios' attention. It was a human, not a vampire, though to be honest, there probably were more non-vampires than vampires here in court right now. He didn't dislike it, but he felt it was odd that there were less vampires in the capital of a city where the three leaders of the vampires resided, but now his attention was drawn towards the pale human before. He looked with a bit of interest at him, before speaking to the man in a courteous tone.

"Good sir, I understand that you feel the need to speak, but here is something of the utmost importance of Nocturne, which, no offense, but is of more importance than your current desires right now." he said to the man in a courteous tone, more than the man deserved to be spoken to, but he had to maintain his good appearances in court here. despite the fact that he had just spoken on Amelia's behalf... something which undoubtedly angered quite a few of the dukes there as they were of a higher rank than him, yet here was a count speaking on behalf one of the elders... it was an entertaining thought nevertheless.

---

---

He was among the first to be in the center of the rebel stronghold and the defenders had just been alerted to their presence. Bolts began to be fired upon them and the few that climbed up and soldiers rushed towards them as they became alert to their presence. Alenios only grinned as the first soldier came up to him and swung his sword to claim his long life. Just a moment later, the man's head had been taken clear off by him. He watched with pleasure as blood started to spurt from the wound before another man descended on him.

Each and every man that attacked him and every man that he attacked would die just a second later. He swung his sword with the expertise of a professional warrior, but with the bloodlust of a lycan. He was a truly savage being indeed, he relished in all the fighting and the thrill it gave him to kill humans who would oppose the vampires and the elders, these foolish humans thought they had a chance at victory... the fighting now clearly had shown that no human was able to oppose a vampire in combat.

But then... he heard the inhuman howls and turned to see the lycans coming out. He then heard Amelia's orders to take the monsters there head on... and as if it was his own brain commanding, he roared and charged straight into the maws of the lycans with a grin on his face. The first lycan, swung it's paw in an attempt to kill him, but he chose to dodge it just enough for the hit not to land before decapitating the lycan himself.

Now, for him, fighting was a blur. He killed anything that chose to stay in his path, no matter if it was human or lycan... he would kill it. But then, he saw something which nearly drove him into a complete blood-rage... a lycan had been able to hit Amelia and knock her back. His nostrils flared in anger as he charged towards the lycan who had dared to harm her, but another jumped in between him and his target and had been able to knock his sword out of his hands. A human might have been killed right now, but he was a vampire and he was very angry. So... without a moments hesitation, he jumped on the lycan, punching and tearing at it until he made sure it would never bother him again.

With baring fangs, his eyes rose to see that Amelia had killed the beast that had assaulted her. Seeing that the siege was now dying down, he took a deep breath to calm himself down as he retrieved his own sword. With that, he walked to Amelia's side, he was her bodyguard, he would not let any harm come to her ever again even if meant that he had to take the blows coming towards him.

---

---

With a shake of his head, the court came back into sight, his mind had momentarily slipped into his own memories, during his one and only failure to protect Amelia. He also realized that his smile was not present anymore and smiled again at the man who had spoken up. He needed to maintain his appearance... after all, doubtless that nobody would like him if they saw what he did during the siege of Prague.

As the meeting progressed, issues were discussed and discarded once a solution was made regarding them. They were handled in a professional manner as they usually were conducted accordingly in a major city. Amiartys smiled at the sleeping Arielle, who had yet to be disturbed by the higher council members for her sleeping as she is so commonly known for doing on her rare presence to council meetings. He could not wait to see the look on her face when she would be awoken from her peaceful slumber to a boring meeting. However, as time passed, the young, dusty boy was growing all the more impatient. Commodry tried to remain quiet and relaxed but for the love of his inflamed youth, the boy could not be still. Amiartys finally had enough of it.

"What's wrong? Why are you moving around so much?" Amiartys asked the boy, demanding an immediate answer.

"I hav' ta go ta bat'room." Commodry admitted, looking at Amiartys, as if to ask him for permission.

"Not yet, remember? Just wait for another break next session before excusing yourself."

"But aye' hav' ta go!" The boy demanded as he lightly stomped his leather boots against the concrete floor of the halls.

"Your loss, you should have known that before coming here. What did you expect coming here?" Amiartys replied jokingly to himself as he was not serious. He was hoping to hear the boy beg to the point of being in tears before sending him on his way. Though before admitting himself to the helpless boy, his eyes darted to the sight of the large, pale man that drew his attention earlier to see that he was walking towards him. Amiartys didn't really quite know what to make of it. Was he a German, astray from his land in order to fight for the side of Nocturne? Amiartys already knew plenty of mercenaries who had easily defected in exchange a pouch of coins as it was not uncommon to run into such normal men, but he wasn't most normal men. Perhaps this stranger knew him from somewhere? He was known for dealing with raiders in the north though that was many years ago and this man couldn't be an age over forty not to mention he had never seen the likes of such a man before in his "long" 120 years of life. Commodry stared as this large and strange man as he approached, all the more terrified with every step the man took towards them. "You'll be fine, Commodry." Amaritys tried to mitigate the boy's fear and stood directly aside of him just in case s if to reassure the boy.

"Um. Aye' dun' hav to go to tha' bat'room anymore..." He admitted apologetically. Amiartys then grew furious and exchanged a look with the frightened young man. Here, boy!? Of all places? He wanted to shout at the boy and slap him in the council hall. His eyes widened for a brief second, almost venting his anger onto the boy with his eyes alone. Commodry then immediately looked away as he recognized the look Amiartys gave him whenever he did something wrong. His face then flushed before giving a sheepish smile as he looked up at the giant man as he approached the Northern Swordsmen. Amiartys took a deep breath to relax before looking towards the strange man walking up the stairs, getting closer to them.

"Hello there." greeted the behemoth of a man, his voice deep and relaxed. Despite this large appearance seemed friendly judging by his tone, or at least he conditioned himself to come off that way. Yet some part of Amiartys struck him as an overconfident soldier though he had almost every right to be. The man was large and looked as if he could crush a man's head like a grape if we wanted to which is why Amiartys thought that if he were to ever project any sort of amiable approach towards others, it wouldn't be sincere. Though something about him seemed very much human the moment he spoke, even if he didn't appear that way on the outside.

Before listening to what he had to say next, the large man was subtly rebuked by the Bloody Count Alenios standing just a few feet away from him, courteously refusing the man to speak on a particular manner the giant had so eagerly wanted to mention, if he had had anything worth mentioning. A Count speaking on behalf of an Elder? Amiartys thought to himself, perhaps this will be a rather interesting meeting after all. Though the way the Count had responded was rather interesting to Amiartys, as if he were trying to protect her from this man who had just introduced himself. Amiartys had always known the Bloody Count for being rather protective to his Elder, though never quite seeing for himself since the Siege of Prague and now at the council meeting. He had almost forgotten how loyal and protective he was, Amelia was fortunate to have a soldier like him on her side. There was a painfully awkward silence that followed shortly after as Dukes and nobles of the higher classes became either unhinged or entertained by what the Count had just said.

"Salve, young man." Amiartys interrupted amiably, veiling the social mask of a well-balanced man who had not just been told that by his apprentice of awkward nature of this predicament. With a wave of his hand, Amiartys signaled the man to come over. Suddenly from behind him, just to his right, Mycandros, his trusted silver-haired vampire guard who had been by his side for forty years drew his sword slightly from his blade four inches from his scabbard the moment the large man turned to them again. It was a sharp, menacing, and familiar noise that echoed throughout the hall, drawing not only potential bloodshed, but attention from those around the group. Though he was tallest among the Northern Swordsmen who often stood tall even among tall men - was easily dwarfed by the giant standing before them. Mycandros was a loyal, experienced companion like Alenio was to Amelia, even perhaps one of the most loyal person Amiartys had ever worked with in his 120 years though despite this, he was well-known for being quite over-protective and therefore needed to be reminded otherwise. "Mycandros. he looked down and smiled amiably before turning his fully head towards Mycandros "If you could please keep your hand away from that handle you are holding so very... Delicately in your right hand." He ordered politely. In return, the vampire bodyguard slowly let go of his long-sword Bellica, as the loyal guard called "her", his leather gloves releasing the handle of his sword, dropping the ivory sword of his forefathers he had so long carried in his strong, pale hands back into its dragon-decorated long scabbard.

"Grazie." Amiartys gracefully said before turning his head back to the man that was over three heads above himself, he had to look up considerably high just to talk to make eye contact. "I do apologize for him, it's not common that we should to see a man such as yourself who isn't entirely hostile to us. I hope I don't mean to offend." He smiled apologetically before turning his head briskly to the right in the direction of Mycandros and turning back to see the large man once again. "I am Amiartys, the leader of the newly formed and thirty-year-old mercenary company known as the Northern Swordsmen. Why don't you come over and sit with us, I'm sure the Count would not mind, would you dear old Alenios? Now to who do I have the honor of speaking to, my endearing young man?"

@Claw2k11@Fetzen

@Blubaron45

Alenios looked at the man who had just spoken to him. One of his men had just been about to attack the man the man he had just spoken with. It was amusing to see the fight, thought most likely, the Death Dealers or his own Blood Guard would have stopped the fight before it escalated, after all, this was Valeria, fighting would not be had here in the presence of an elder. He knew the man from the siege of Prague, his name was Amiartys and to be honest with himself he liked the man quite a bit.

He smiled at the man and waved his hand. "Of course my good friend, the two of you may sit with one another and talk to your heart's content, though I would like for you to not disturb the court if you do not mind." he said, nodding to Amiartys. "Of course, if you had anything to say about the current matter at hand, I would love to hear it from someone as experienced in combat such as yourself." he was exceedingly courteous to the man, though partly because he was one of the few people he knew and actually enjoyed the presence of and liked to talk to. "And if you vouch for this man... I'm willing to listen to his own inquiry as well."

With that he smiled, he could feel the dukes behind him probably fuming with anger at his rather free way of speaking on behalf of Amelia, but to be honest, he couldn't really care less about it. He considered most of the nobles behind him bland people and he considered Amiartys a close friend, it would be clear to whom he would listen first.

Valeria, Council Chambers

Amelia kept her eyes about the room, she sensed movement, and was about to reply to Alenios on what he should do when a greeting struck her ears. It was a sincere greetings by all accounts. Like someone inquiring after an employer of interest. The tone was telling. A professional inquiry was behind the welcoming pair of words. Amelia flicked her eyes up to Hatuum, a giant of man, easily with biceps larger than some men's thighs. He reminded her of a tree trunk. If a tree and a boulder could have a love child that is. Amelia made to speak but Alenios spoke before her lips could move. She remained silent, her eyes roved among the dukes, lordlings, and ladies as they either beamed at the Bloody Count or made to speak. It only took Amelia's gaze for them to stop before they could. The Duke of Magyan turned a deep shade of red, no doubt offended at Alenios preposterous answer, the duke was a traditionalist along courtly circles.

Then came the voice of Amiartys, who, Amelia did not know personally. He was young, well, that was presumptuous given that even Amelia looked young and she was older than both collectively. Her words, when they finally came after listening, was methodical and slightly sharpened per syllable to give a sense of rebuke.

"I can speak for myself Alenios, lest you have forgotten your place, need I remind you?" Amelia's rebuke was softer than it would have been to someone else, that much was for sure, but it was needed. The Duke of Magyan smirked. Ruling was a fine line, she wasn't a monarch, there where no Kings and Queens in Nocturne, but had to be the central figure of authority to keep the realm from descending into chaos and full blown civil wars.

Then there was the issue of one of Amiartys' men, a vampire, his bodyguard partially drawing his blade. This was an insult which wouldn't be ignored. Amelia rose from her chair, one of the court ladies gulped, a pair of Death Dealers approached from the man's rear.

"Full filling one's duty is an admirable quality, but there are rules here, to even consider drawing a blade with the intent of using it. No matter to the extant....is considered a failure from the master." Amelia like a snake, her left arm lancing out, wrapped her fingers around Amiartys throat. Lifting him up off his feet and carrying him several paces, her hand turning his face, as if examining him. "You're a handsome one..." Amelia's grip was like an iron clamp, gripping just tight enough to choke, but not enough to outright kill him. This was a harsh lesson in mannerisms. Normally the bodyguard would be rebuked verbally, but from time to time, a physical reminder was needed.

Amelia abruptly let go, letting Amiartys fall, but not before slicing a thin cut on his neck. It was superficial, barely a paper cut common on scribes hands, she put it in her mouth. A tad of enjoyment as she tasted his life essence. "Sweet. Like honey. Let this be a reminder about etiquette. Lest we become like the beasts at our borders." Amelia turned away, her eyes going over the young boy that had been accompanying Amiartys, then to Hatuum, and finally Alenios.

A bell chimed outside. The session was over, the Council began to disperse, but no one had to leave. Amelia moved to take her seat on the simple stone chair seemingly hewn from the rock that also made up the Northern wall of the chamber.

Idle members of society talked near the doors, just outside them, or bought favors and services. Amelia had to think of what to do about the disturbing reports given to her today. Would she send Death Dealers? Mobilize the Guard? Call up levies? Send an assassin in doing what a single blade might do what a thousand swords cannot? Perhaps the answer was right before her...

@Verse Zero

Alenios fell to his knees before Amelia as if his his strings had been cut. "Of course not, my lady." he said, not daring to rise from this position. Even as his good friend Amyiartis was choked. It was a real pity if he were to die, but he vauled Amelia above all, even above his own person. And though he did not intervene, he did offer the Duke of Magyan a smile. Whether the duke chose to take this smile as a threat or as an apology, he did not care.

As soon as the bell chimed, he rose to his feet and stood at Amelia's side, as he had always done. He saw it in her expressions that she was thinking of how she could deal with this situation. "My lady, know, that whatever you decide to do, you will have my support" he spoke, smiling, though for the first time, this was a genuine and caring smile. "If you order me now, I will gather my men and kill the barbarians to the last man."

Though he knew that the enemy outnumbered his own Blood Guard by a great deal, all of his men were vampire from throughout Nocturne, be they first generation vampires or the weakest of vampires... they were all vampires and they were all loyal. However, he did not delude himself that he had any chance of victory against so great odds, but if Amelia ordered him to charge into the germanic tribes, he would do so without a second thought. Now he simply stood, and awaited her own answer, whatever that order might be.

Hatuum had to make a considerable effort to stop himself from smirking. Was anyone one the persons in front of him aware of how much unvarnished... unfriendliness... they had just released towards him ? Well of course he could be wrong objectively, but for subjective feelings nothing but one's own and current point of view was relevant.

First of all there was this Alenios or whoever he was. Admittedly, Hatuum didn't have much to do with politics and courtly affairs - at least not from an 'ordinary' point of view. He wasn't completely aware of the man's role here, but suspecting someone of having an intent to satisfy multiple desires while that someone had hardly done anything more but to say 'hello' was quite unexpected. And then the man lost track of his schedule on when to pretend which positive emotion. All this smiling - all this false smiling.

Amiartys, the one he had initially addressed, appeared to be of a much more friendly kind. The person appearing behind him and being called Mycandros however was not. It didn't escape Hatuum's attention that the vampire had been very close to openly threatening him with his impressive long sword and the giant was quite glad about Amiartys stopping the hostility while it was still in its subtle infancy. The vampire bodyguard or whatever he was had already earned his place on the list of possibly dangerous persons though. Hatuum had been hesitant enough not to carry a weapon in here. That was with the exception of his own body of course. Quite a lot of people probably considered him to be a weapon himself. He didn't. Raw flesh was pretty defenseless against a sharp blade, no matter how much there was available of it. Hatuum had blasted his way through a few taverns though...

When Amelia decided to take things into her own hands literally, Hatuum became seriously concerned about the possibility of the situation escalating. How would Amiartys react to this kind of demonstration ? The self-appointed assassin didn't wait for the reaction of the mercenary leader but instead opted for sitting down as told quickly. Given that his biceps were thicker than many men's thighs already, one could probably imagine the extent of Hatuum's own legs burying the bench beneath them. Sometimes he really hated himself for being what he was, but most of the time he did the opposite.

"Hatuum. Just... Hatuum. There's nothing more to add to my name." He briefly paused, waiting for an reaction before he decided to just go on. "So... a mercenary leader ? May I ask what you do exactly ?"

A small drop of blood trickled down from Amiartys's slightly bruised neck where the markings of Amelia's hands had just been only a few seconds before. He had known that feeling of being strangled once, though that was many years ago when he was younger in age and in spirit. One moment he had tried to amiably control a situation that could have gotten out of hand, the next, he had completely lost that control, leaving Amelia to gasp not only that very heated incident but a tight gasp around Amiarty's neck. Her speed was impeccable, her strike against his pale neck, firm and elegant as she was. Amelia had a tight and very uncomfortable grip around his neck, her fingernails lightly digging into his skin and her hands as tight as steel around his neck. He looked into at her and saw nothing in her face but disappointment and deep into her piercing radiant eyes, Amelia looked at Amiartys as a predator so looks into its prey and in that moment, he understood true fear. Amiartys felt vulnerable in that moment, yet there was nothing he could do in that moment, he didn't resist. He knew that she wouldn't kill him over something as what he considered as frivolous as this though leaders seldom should miss the opportunity to discipline wrong-doers and in that moment, he understood why she did it.

She held him with her left arm, lifting him from the ground as if he were as light as some helpless infant, her hands crushing his throat as he subtly struggled against her might. Though despite this, there was no use in even trying, her hands were both as cold and hard as steel. She even appeared to not be straining from lifting Amiartys, even with his gear on that made him a few pounds heavier. Amelia was quite un-ordinarily strong as the rumors had mentioned, then again Amelia was a very un-ordinary vampire. Amiartys throughout his long life had always been told the tales of the Elders and their vigorous ferocity in battle though he had not witnessed it himself until later in his life in the many wars he had so loyally fought for Nocturne, though never expecting such power to be pointed in his direction. The soldiers during the times of war had circulated rumors that an Elder had strange physical prowess over ordinary people and seldom were rumors ever refuted.

Amiartys took Amelia's words and advice with the utmost consideration, for this easily could've been his last. He was even graciously wanted to thank her for her complement on his appearance as she examined him as if he were some sort of specimen. He smiled at her despite his face turning from crisp red to now a light blue. Amiartys could see that Amelia was almost, as some would say, amused with torturing him. Perhaps it was her way of flirting with him and it was something Amiartys had always grown to be used to though never quite in this manner. After grinning at her, Amelia released the grip she so tightly had over his neck, letting Amiartys almost stumble onto the ground had he not been caught by Mycandros.

“I do apologize, my lady.” Mycandros had so apologetically said to her, wanting to drop to his knees if he had not caught Amiartys. He help Amiartys back on his feet and dragged him several paces backward. Quietly, he then apologized to Amiartys. "I am so sorry sir. I would have tried to protect you, Amiartys, bu-"

"You and I would've been dead in this very council hall, of all places to die." He struggled to admit though not because he didn't want to, but because of his struggle to even breathe. "I'm glad you at least understand that." Amiartys managed to say in light-hearted tone. He then cleared his throat before looking towards Commodry, seeing that he and Amelia exchanged a brief look before Amelia turned away. Commodry had always been a cowardly boy, though he appeared to be rather calm and tranquil with Amelia's presence and had a look of admiration towards her, smiling even as she was walking away. Of all people, Commodry seemed to have developed a fond liking to this Elder woman who he had ever saw the privilege of seeing for himself. Amiartys took a few seconds to recover himself and turned back to the giant man who he had just tried to defend earlier. "I do apologize again for what happened earlier, some of my men need to know their place." He turned to Mycandros, who then smiled sheepishly. "Now. What was your name again?"

"Hatuum. Just... Hatuum. There's nothing more to add to my name." He replied, though there was a strange pause as if to say that he was nothing more than just some soldier. He was modest, which Amiartys could respect. "So... a mercenary leader ? May I ask what you do exactly ?" He asked.

"I attend to matters that require my expertise and with a generous amount of coins and both I and my men will be loyal to those who employ us like many other mercenary companies. We mainly focus our business in Nocturne for now and though we are small, we comprise of the best men in these lands and beyond, with the exception of a few." He turned to Commodry, seeing that his eyes were still fixated on Amelia. "And you, Hatuum, what is your profession?" He asked, though he already knew that answer in some form.

@Fetzen

---

Arielle could not remember what she had dreamt about earlier though she could tell by her mood before abruptly waking up that it was a good dream like the ones she typically had whenever she had slept in a recreational manner during these tedious council meetings. She woke up to the sound of stumbling, only to realize that someone who looked like Amiartys, the mercenary leader who had fought along side both her father and grandfather, had just taken a considerable blow from Amelia though she had not known why.

"What just happened, Contentos? Is that Amiartys?" She turned to her older adviser, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose frustratingly. He was a man no older than sixty and was a hardened veteran of the many battles he had fought alongside Arielle's father many years ago, something Arielle had always been told of since her youth. Though burdened by old age, he carried with him a strong appearance he had conditioned since youth. An excellent swordsman as proven many times in battle as shown by the scar that dragged along his face, just barely missing his eyeball. "Did something exciting finally happen during these boring meetings for once?"

"Yes and yes, madam, that is him. I have not seen him in three years. I'm also afraid you have missed that very opportunity of something you consider 'interesting'. May I remind you that you are in a very important council meeting?" Contentos lectured her silently.

"Yes, yes." She said annoyingly. "And when something interesting finally occurs, you don't even bother to wake me." She groaned before wiping the saliva she had left on her boiled leather forearm on her legs.

"I was afraid of what repercussions that might ensue in the event that I should awake you after your 'peaceful' slumber." He reminded her of what happened last time.

"Oh" She caught on. "I never quite expected you to be a man living in fear of anyone." She said teasingly, knowing that he was a proud man.

"I do not, Baroness. Only strong women with a passion to discipline at a moment's notice." He replied, though Arielle could not tell whether or not Contentos was referring to either her or Amelia. They both watched as the meeting progressed.

Hatuum made a waving gesture with his left hand, indicating that the matter was essentially dealt with for him. "As you can see, I have survived without suffering any physical harm. I think that is what counts on the bottom line ? I can understand that people feel uneasy when they see me and I am, though unfortunately, rather used to this kind of behaviour. However you can trust me that I don't intend and never had the intention to use my few extra feet and several hundred extra pounds to threaten you or anybody else. Even with weapons it would be quite a bit foolish to do such a thing here, wouldn't it ? It would be overly daring to attempt this against an entire group of mercenaries in general, no matter the location."

The man arched an eyebrow and spent several seconds on looking at Amiartys before continuing with the actual topic. "So, a mercenary leader. Well..." Hatuum put his right leg on top of the left one. "Than we are not that different after all. I too am a... mercenary... leader, with the exception being that my 'group' consists of only one member." Logic would dictate that this single and only member could only be Hatuum himself. It wasn't a lie after all - just a bit of an unprecise, generalized wording. He wasn't eager to completely and directly let Amiartys or any of his companions in on the fact that he was an assassin. "I could imagine that one of the upcoming things could be either me asking if you'd have a job for me or you asking if I'd be willing to accept one."

@Blubaron45

"Well, that depends on the circumstance that you are great of a warrior as you look, though I have no doubts about your capabilities as such." Amiartys smiled. He then took a brief few seconds to examine the large man, he seemed friendly enough. Amiartys was quite good at reading people, though it took him a long way to get there. Practice and mastery takes time, which for Amiartys took around one hundred twenty seven years. Something about him seemed rather... Disingenuous on regards to his status as a 'mercenary leader' who led a guild of no one but himself. Perhaps he either wasn't as good as he could often came across as, or he was or the man had a tendency of hiding himself. Those were men Amiartys knew quite well, he for he had many in his company, all of which he had gotten to know after a while.

Hatuum was rather impressionable by remaining rather calm during the whole ordeal that had just occurred a few moments before. Amiartys simply disregarded any negative notion of Hatuum, for only time would tell whether or not he was as dangerous as Mycandros had interpreted him as. Though something inside Amiartys told him that he was rather harmless despite his looks, amiable almost one could say. Amiartys cleared his throat to allow the uncomfortable silence be mitigated within those few seconds, pretending to get himself together after what the beautiful Amelia had just done to his now bruised throat. He had developed a method of recovering quickly many years ago, he just would rather use this method to cover any awkwardness in this conversation.

"I am not necessarily so desperate for looking for any more company as if the person applying was some recruit in the Militia Guild or at some sort of gathering of fresh and any able-bodied men, yet I'm not entirely inclined to say 'no' to those who ask and are prepared to die by each other's side if that should ever occur, especially those with hardened experience which I hope you may have... Even if not all of them are not as disciplined." He turned again to the young Mycandros who returned another sheepish smile before sitting back and looking towards Hatuum. "I apologize for him once again. My men should learn that the first sword dawn should be mine." He said referring to the young Mycandros before continuing.

"We are, again, but a small band of mercenaries, consisting of about twenty-two men not including myself. What you see now are only a handful of us. You see, time for mortal men is often valued higher than currency, rather should some of them spend it wisely." He reminded himself. Amiartys seemed rather eager to have this man by side, though he did not want this expression as he did with any other emotion. Another man to the company would be rather useful, especially such a man with great length and prowess. The only concern of him is that he had just met the man though he did seem rather modest and for that Amiartys could have some trust in him as a warrior fighting alongside him. Nonetheless, he had given it a consideration. "You seem that you would handle yourself in battle. If you wish, we could test your abilities and then could have you undergo training with us. Would you like that, Hatuum?"

@Fetzen

"Test my abilities ?" Hatuum seemed to suddenly become even more attentive than he had been before, focusing in on the mercenary leader before turning his eyes briefly towards his companion Mycandros. He really would have liked to undergo such a test, though not because he'd have been absolutely convinced about his own superiority. In fact the very opposite was true: A test focusing on open combat would hardly cover the entire spectrum of an assassin's abilities while covering aspects that typically were not part of those - because they didn't need to. In his case the fall would likely be particularly degrading because one could reasonably expect that expectations were quite high, given his physical appearance.

Yet... saying 'No' would be even more ignominious. What would they think if he'd say that ? Certainly there would be questions...
"Okay... when, where and how ? And with - or against - whom ?"

Amelia looked at Alenios as he spoke, her eyes onto him, and she let out a smile at his dedication. He was dedicated to her after all. That was not in doubt. But perhaps it was such that it led to momentary lapses in protocol, in a place where such a thing was paramount, and could not be readily dismissed.

"The barbarians will have to be dealt with immediately. Perhaps the mercenaries here will prove useful?" Amelia looked at Amiarty's and Hatuum. Indeed they could prove useful as mercenaries for a mission to kill the new High King. Perhaps kill the king in such a way that would not immediately implicate Nocturne? Prevent the barbarians from solidifying further. A united Germania was a dangerous thought in Amelia's mind.

"We need to kill this High King before he could invade Nocturne. But we cannot do something that will cause the barbarians to unite in anger. We will hire Amiartys and Hatuum on a contract to kill the High King. You will accompany them."

Alenios listened intently of Amelia's proposition, he was not one to question Amelia's orders, but if this were to be an assassination mission, a man as large as Hatuum would be very suspicious and make the mission all the harder. "My lady, I do not doubt that Hatuum would be effective in direct combat, but he would be a bit unsuited for this mission." he said throwing a glance at the large man, before turning back to Amelia. "However, I can tell without any doubt that Amiartys would a great addition, I have seen him accomplish a great deal of amazing things during the Siege of Prague... and you that I don't give compliments that easily." to be honest, other than Amelia and Amiartys, he probably never complimented anyone else and mean it at the same time.

However, he would not be one to question her orders, but that didn't mean that he couldn't take assurances. He approached Amelia and whispered in her ear. "To tell you the truth, I do not trust the large one, my lady, but I do not wish to question your decision, so I will take him, but only if you will allow me to take my two personal guards with me." he said, with his ever-present smile. "Plus, some of the nobles who dislike our closeness might see that an "accident" happens to me while on this mission, so I will be able to travel easier if my two trustiest bodyguards are with me."