Stormcrow

[Kelly Antilles]

Anna pushed the suit out of her way as she strode to the front door. "Fucking hell." The carnage in the yard was incredible. Darian was not going to be happy. She was far from happy herself. "Anyone have any clue as to who did this?"

[Mark S]

"Mr. Cairns' security did it, Ms. Bruck," the man in the suit called to Anna's back. "You and your group will of course remain unharmed but you must be aware that coming so openly with force would have to be met in kind."

[Stormbringer]

"SHIT!!!" Alec growled. He was pissed off at the waste of it all. This went from a nice, smart idea and now it had turned into a mess. Anna acting like a damn fool and ruining it all. Half Darian's men dead.

"God damn it all to hell."

Alec looked around steadying himself. It was best to try and salavage what they could.

"So now what?"

[Kelly Antilles]

Anna was angry. But, she was also disappointed in herself. She should have just told the others they were going to find Stormcrow and finish this whole thing.

She stepped down to where Alec was standing. "We do what we should have in the first place." Her eyes turned towards the others. "Be at the airport in an hour." With that said, she strode past them all and headed home.

[Mark S]

It is said that shit rolls down hill. This statement was certainly true that night. Cairns superiors in the Camarilla were expecting him to report in with confirmation that he now had the scroll back and that Eliot Stormcrow was either also in hand or dead. When the news that came in was a different story all together, it didn’t take long for a phone call to reach New Orleans’ prince. The Camarilla was not pleased. How dare Darian OPENLY move against a sanctioned Camarilla official working in the best interests of the Ventrue, the Camarilla, and all of the kindred for that matter! Others would be coming to discuss the matter with Darian personally. Moments later, Darian was taking it out on Anna. The conversation was decidedly one sided and did not let up until the phone on the other end of Anna’s line was slammed down. No matter how angry Anna was, the prince was ten times more. The shit was definitely rolling at the pile seemed right on top of Anna Bruck.

Luckily there had been enough bodies that had set out to require more than one vehicle because Anna did not wait for the others. They rode back together in silence and separated in the same mood. An hour later they converged one by one at the air port, still with nothing to say. They all seemed insular, feeling the weight of what had happened that night.

Feeling the tension, Joe pulled the hood of the midnight blue sweat shirt he now wore over his head and boarded the plane without a word. Just by what he was wearing, the others could tell he was distracted. It was far too hot a night for something like that and Joe had always taken great pains to blend in. He had always complained about newly blooded kindred up north flaunting their immortality by wearing tee-shirts in the dead of winter.

He threw his duffle bag in a storage compartment and sat down. “We’ve lost a lot of time. Others might already be close to Stormcrow. I’m not sure whether we should move in fast and try to take everyone by surprise or scout things out slowly and see what’s happened out there.”

“We have the journal,” Jack started. “We know that the Assamites have the same information and are likely using it, and we know that the Sabbat are probably trailing us both. Eliot’s a paranoid bastard, the Assamites know that, they’ll be taking their time and making sure they’ve done the proper recon before moving in. That should buy us some time. If we can find their trail and follow it, we should be able to advance more quickly. If not, we’ll need to scout the area ourselves and move in slow.”

The Gangrel adjusted his shades and sat down, leaning against the hull. They had all nearly lost their lives that very night by moving in force, he didn’t want anymore surprises. He was as pissed as everyone else. They had known the rough layout of the manor, they had known that security would be in place and they had just walked right up, weapons in hand and basically taken a dump on the front porch. They may have survived that, but surviving Darian may be a different story. The Sabbat was nosing around the city trying to find out what they knew and he had just lost half his men. Even if they retrieved the scroll and got Eliot, New Orleans might not be too friendly a place anymore.

[Stormbringer]

Alec wandered in, down hearted. He moved with no enthusiasm, in fact he moved like some one half dead. The young vampire who before had seemed so alive and vital was moving through the world around him by sheer force of habit.


* * *

His world had been shaken to the core; the foundations of his unlife now laying in disarray. Anna Bruck, to whom he had trusted his life and unlife, had betrayed his trust in the most painful way possible. Her blind pursuit of the artifact and it's keeper ruining everything. The whole event turning over and over in his mind. He knew it had been a gamble but her foolish rush had thrown away what ever chance they had. He couldn't understand it. He just couldn't.

He didn't stop loving her; he doubted he would ever stop that. But something just as important did: trust. It was gone now and he knew things would never be the same between them. There would always be a distance now, some part of him would forever hold back.

* * *

Alec threw his things into the back of the plane and settled into a seat next to them. He barely looked at any of his companions on the plane, least of all his sire.

If I survive this I'm disappearing for a while. I'm going to find a hole to vanish down and pull it down over me...... if we survive whatever we're walking into.

He couldn't help but wonder if any of them would survive this.

[Mark S]

As if Lady Luck was trying to spit in their faces, the plane touched down in Montana not much before dawn. There was nothing they would be able to do that night but find lodgings, pull the curtains, and hope no one sent an ambush for them. It was yet another delay, yet another strike at their morale.

The next night they were on their way to the small mountain town of New Ursamere. ((If you guys are using a specific type of vehicle, let me know.)) This was where they were to meet the contact Tennessee Hathaway had given them, a man named Garth Badin. They had no idea what he would look like but were told that he would be hard to miss.

When they reached their destination they were surprised at the number of newer modal cars and pickups for such a tiny hamlet. It seemed the place must be turning into something of a bedroom community, as well as a center for the simpler country folk. The architecture of the buildings along the main street was strictly nineteen tens and nineteen twenties but the shops that were housed there kept clean and modern. At this time of night, most of the activity was coming from the lone Bar and Grille, Dooy’s.

Inside, the owners had obviously tried to maintain the atmosphere of frontier saloon that Dooy’s had started out as. The furniture was all strictly wood, as was the long counter taking up most of the rear wall. Behind the bar, as if right out of a movie, was a huge mirror lined with bottles. It reflected the light of the hanging, carved antler chandeliers (now with electric lights) as well as the man faces of those enjoying themselves.

Joe swore under his breath as he entered and saw the reflective surface. He made sure to always keep someone between him at it.

After taking a quick look around the room, the group found that Tenn had been right. Garth Badin was one man that you could not miss. Even sitting at a time to the side as he was, the man was a towering hulk. Bright eyes shone from beneath a bushy shock of honey-brown hair and from within a beard of the same colour and just as bushy. He wore a loose fitting t-shirt that revealed arms as large as most people’s legs, and just as hairy, and a pair of casual shorts. His sandalled feet stuck out from under the table, crossed over each other in a relaxed manner. He seemed to have marked the groups arrival because he waved them over when their eyes finally met.

[Kelly Antilles]

Anna did as she had done since the incident. She ignored everyone and went on about her business. Moving over to where Garth was, she sat down across from the giant. "Thank you so much for helping me out. I do hope it won't take long until we can find what we're looking for. I certainly need an end to this soon."

[Mark S]

"We're looking for one of our kind that we believe will be in the vicinity of Two Pines. Eliot Stormcrow." Joe sat down and cut to the chase. "We were told that you could help."

In the background Jack took up position casually against a support column near the center of the room. With his field of vision and the mirror on the far wall, he had a vantage on any location around the establishment. His long, duster hung slightly open, still concealing the arsenal beneath but ever ready to be flung wide to unleash it.

The burly contact eyed the group from behind a mug of dark ale for a moment before answering. "There seem to be many of your kind in these parts now-a-days. Though not so many today as there were yesterday from what I hear.

"Yeah, I know where Eliot's cabin is. I don't know what he's gotten himself into to have all you folk in arms but it sure is a shame. Wasn't a bad guy, that one. Even after his death.

"I have to warn you," his voice lowered to a conspiratorial murmur. "There are others here that would protect him. If you come in anger, I would advise caution."

[Stormbringer]

"What sort of others?" asked Alec "We don't have any intention of harming Eliot but he might not appreciate seeing us. A bit of a past you see."

Alec was lying through his teeth but no one would tell. He'd made his living dealing with people like this.

[Mark S]

“The Garou in these parts have come to form an affinity with Stormcrow,” Garth replied. “They value his insight and labour to protect him from himself.”

The bearded man finished his drink and placed the glass slowly on the table. “Which makes it odd that they would abide the presence of one who torments him so.”

[Kelly Antilles]

Anna raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And who might that be?"

[Mark S]

"Not sure actually," came the rely. "But he's one of you and he doesn't mind showing it. Showed up about a week or so ago. Very strange. By the look of it he seems to hold a number of Garou in his sway."

[Kelly Antilles]

Anna turned to look at Jack and cursed under her breath. "Seems your Sire has suddenly taken an interest in this, no?"

[Mark S]

Anna turned to look at Jack and cursed under her breath. "Seems your Sire has suddenly taken an interest in this, no?"

Jack looked furtively around before abandoning his post to answer the question more privately. "Could be him but I doubt it." He scowled at the thought of ancient Gangrel. "He'd more likely purge the area of them on arrival before they knew he was here and could attack first. The war with the werewolves is an old one."

[Kelly Antilles]

"Who other than a Gangrel would even get along with the wolves?" Anna pondered.

[Stormbringer]

"Even the Gangrel don't get along with them bar a very exceptional few. If I had to put my money down I'd say it's our dear mad methuselah." Alec shivered a little, "Looks like Lazlo was right."

[Mark S]

"It sounds to me like there is more involved here than I originally was made aware," Garth said. He produced a folded piece of paper. "That is your affair. I give you this as a favour to an old friend and ask only that you finish your business quickly and leave this area in piece."

The paper was opened to reveal a forest ranger's map of the area. It showed the town they were currently in, the town of Two Pines to the north, Stormcrow's cabin was marked off in the mountains to the northeast of that and some of the landmarks of the surrounding area were also noted. With it, that could easily find their way to Stormcrow.

[Mark S]

It looks like we’re down to half the players in this thing now and when the total number only started at four, that tells me it’s time to stop. I hope everyone involved had fun and anyone who dared to read along enjoyed it too. Any comments are welcome and maybe someday I’ll try to put everything together into some semblance of an actual story. For those who are interested, I will outline how things would have ended more or less.

The ancient vampire known as The Wolf was the first to arrive in Montana, led there by his connections within the Sabbat as well as the werewolves. Having many dealings with werewolves and living among them for a time, he was able to get to Stormcrow unhindered and began to torment him, putting him through one sadistic test after another in order to determine whether he was actually the one prophesied. The Wolf has been trying to bring about the Final Night for longer than many vampires have walked the earth.

The next to come were the two Assamites, Ehab and Ahmed, followed closely by Jennifer Lazlo and a team of Sabbat. The Assamites were taking there time to understand there enemy and how they were going to get the scroll. The Assamites have never cared about Eliot at all. They simply believe that the scroll is a relic of their clan and want it back.

The Sabbat were not going as slowly however, thought they would simply storm the cabin, and wound up slaughtered by the werewolves before they got anywhere near. The group would have found their remains standing warning to any other vampire that might think of attack. The only Sabbat to survive were Lazlo and one or two others. They were not going to kill Eliot. They wanted to use him for their own ends and take the scroll for their own.

When the group first started investigating the area they would be attacked by werewolves just like the Sabbat, but would find themselves helped by some unseen benefactor. This might happen more than once, depending on how long they farted around. The helper would turn out to be none other than Hasan, the research lab security head. It turns out Hasan is not the broken and useless git that he had been appearing to be. He is actually a Justicar of some skill and has been following the group with a hit squad. He doesn’t care about the scroll but is there as insurance that Eliot Stormcrow is put down. His team would kill everyone if needs be.

Unfortunately Eliot wanted nothing to do with ending the world or even taking it over. The Final Night was just his unlife’s work and nothing more. Others didn’t see it as cut and dry as he did however and he found himself set upon by people trying to force him onto their side or simply kill him. His paranoia didn’t help matters and soon he was on the run. All he wanted was to be left to his work in peace.

See, the Camarilla may have said that they didn’t believe in the prophecy and only wanted the scroll back for the sake of higher learning but many of them wanted to make damn sure Stormcrow was dead as well. He was fitting the prophecy too well for them to take the chance. So when the latest reports came in with the final translation, the order came back to Hasan, who had been assigned to watch things secretly, to have Eliot liquidated. That was why the lab looked like the researchers were taken by surprise. They were killed by their own guards. Only Stormcrow managed to defend himself and escape. He was attacking Hasan and running out the door just as Ehab and Ahmed were swinging in through the window to steal the scroll. When Stormcrow escaped and disappeared, the Camarilla called in Anna Bruck and her group to get the scroll and hopefully kill Stormcrow. If they found out Eliot was harmless, Hasan would be there to finish the job.

If the group managed to make it through the other people trying to get ahead of them and The Wolf simply fucking around with them, the whole thing would have ended with a battle royale featuring our guys, Hasan’s team, the remaining Sabbat, the two Assamites, and the werewolves. Maybe Eliot survives this, maybe he doesn’t.

In the end, when everyone is back in New Orleans trying to figure out what the hell they had just been through, I don’t know how the others would have closed off their characters but Joe Schwartz, a clanless vampire who believes vehemently that he was Sired not by another vampire but the Devil himself, who had avoided vampire society for centuries, would take the picture of himself he had been carrying around out one last time, take one last look, crumple the picture up, toss it, transform into the winged form he most prefers, a great, black crow, and fly into the night.

Good night and thank you.