Stormcrow

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Kelly Antilles
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna stepped forward, arms crossed. "Pardon the bruskness of my childe. He is quite impetuous. Have you been sent by the Prince or do we owe your appearance to someone else?"
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Post by Mark S »

“You have something of mine which I would have returned.” The voice, masculine, and filled with that certain accent that only the very cultured had when English was their second language, seemed to raise no greater than a whisper, yet carry clearly across the distance. “And something else which I would take.”

Menace poured from the silhouette like caffeine, filling the group with nervous energy. A palpable wave of terror washed over them and the two younger vampires were hard pressed to hold their ground. The two older, too, found their hands creeping instinctively toward their weapon of choice.

The figure made no move of any kind but simply stood, a cat waiting for its prey to make the first move. It was that inactivity that was most disconcerting. There was a confidence there. There was a feeling that you were nothing to him, an insect daring to tread in his kitchen.
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna laid her hand on the hilt of her sword, a very dangerous weapon for a vampire to carry. The blade was enchanted to cause more damage against the undead. She allowed her Majestic Presence to emenate towards this new man.

Her gaze leveled on the vampire. "What is it that we have of yours and what is this other thing you would take from us?"
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec felt the menacing presence of their new found adversary. He found it hard to resist the interloper's power Presence. He waited, gun raised and ready.

Assamite for sure. Damn it! This just gets worse and worse. No doubt the killer had underestimated them but still....

Alec's free hand slipped down his side to the hilt of his sword. There was going to be trouble and this was no weakling, this was an Assamite. His finger was twitchy on the trigger.
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Post by Stravo »

"Honored child of Hassan. Am I incorrect in saying so? If there is something of your property that we have in our possesion, please speak of it and we shall see to it that justice is done here." Reece said clearly and evenly without flinching. "Peace be with you." he added in perefct Arabic. His sire believed in teaching his childer some of the so called gutter langauge of their prey.

If he was Assamite he had allowed them to see him. This was an elder, had to be, the younger ones were the leap and scream types usually. Age usually made the assassins more restrained, but far far more dangerous. They did not have to show off, they did not have to prove anything to anyone. They survived centuries among a clan that had to dance with death every night.

Jack hoped beyond all hope that they had no clue who or what he was. The elders were the ones that remembered his sire intimately. Many knew him in life and unlife. Jack would be a speck beneath their notice. He desperately hoped.

He remembered Geoffrey's advice one day when they spent three nights pursuing an Assamite elder. Jack had asked him what should he do if he cornered or was cornered by the elder alone.

Geoffrey had smiled ferally.

"Pray for your soul, young Crusader. Pray and hope that it is quick."

Jack found himself praying now.
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Post by Mark S »

The dark figure could not help but bow its head in reverence to the elder woman. It had no choice in the matter. The compulsion was too strong.

But there was no such compulsion towards the others.

“What is mine,” he said evenly, though still with quiet respect. “Is the dagger you carry. What I will take is the head of D’Anjou’s childe.”

Faster than the eye could track, two daggers, mates of the one that had been found, flew unerringly forward. One arched straight for Jack’s heart, the other toward Alec.

Whether he had actually seen his enemies motion or his finger had simply twitched too much, the latter man fired his weapon. Fate, skill or blind luck sent one bullet into the approaching blade, turning its path away into the shadows. The other projectiles followed after, straight for the lone enemy. Or where he had been.

The street was now empty.

Jack twisted in an attempt to remove himself from the path of the weapon heading his way. The speed of the dagger outmatched his own inhuman swiftness however, and slammed into his left side. The force of the impact added to the Gangrel’s spin and sent him to the ground.

Knowing full well the deadliness of what this enemy would have coated his knives with, Jack was relieved to find that this one had merely ricocheted off of one of his guns.

He got to his feet as quickly as he could.

For his part, Joe’s sword was drawn with as much calculating patience as the enemy had used speed. Inch by inch he turned a tight circle, stretching out with both his senses and his mind’s eye. The shadows of the alleys were no barrier to him.

Slowly his motion came to a stop.

“I see you, little assassin.”

Another dagger came hurtling end over end from the darkness.
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna drew her sword as soon as she saw the glinting metal of the daggers. She cursed in every language she knew. This, of course, took a very long time, during which she lunged towards the next blade flashing through the air.

*TINK* Metal hit metal as Anna's blade changed the path of the dagger. Her eyes searched the darkness. She enhanced her senses, smell and hearing, trying to find their nemesis.
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec felt the deadly calm of battle drift over him. Humanity slipped away submerged in the here and now. He could feel the Beast within him whispering to him, guiding his actions. His now red eyes peirced the night. He silenced the whispers harshly, driving down the impulse within him.


His Auspex enhanced senses stretched out, searching the night for the killer shadow that was the Assamite. He caught a blur of movement, the hiss of a dagger cutting the night was all Alec needed. His gun fired, a chorus of shots echoing in the night.

Amidst the crack of splintering brick he was sure he heard the sound of a bullet striking undead flesh.
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Post by Stravo »

Jack ripped off his glasses as his red gleaming eyes flashed dangerously, dispelling darkness and shadow from his vision, he used his Protean to give his sight power over darkness and in a snap drew a 9mm Baretta and fired a steady stream of fire into a wisp of shadow to his left.

He knew that he was the target, the Assamite bastard would try to kill him first, so he would be around Jack somehow trying to get in close for a --

Jack heard the slightest whisper of steel in the air and he ducked just as the Assamite whipped his short sword through the spot where Jack's head had been less than a heartbeat earlier. Jack ducked low, placed his hands firmly against the street and his right leg exploded up like a jackhammer connecting with the Assmaite's midsection.

The kindred let out a whoof of expelled air and there was a sickly sound of crunching bone upon imact. The Assamite wheeled away, using the momentum from Jack's own blow to propel him away but not before striking with his off hand, also holding a short sword and striking Jack's exposed leg on the side of the knee, slicing through undead flesh and striking bone.

Jack grunted in pain and rolled forward as he willed vitae to the wound in hopes of healing it quickly, as the strike was meant to cripple him, hamper his movements.

He also willed vitae to his muscles, feeling strength flushing through his undead frame as potence and prenatural strength via the blood made him stronger.
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Post by Mark S »

Joe rushed to the aid of his downed friend. He had been on the wrong side of a lot of weapons but Assamites generally had the worst. This one seemed no exception.

Steel met steel as the Caitiff’s blade found its way between the assassin’s lightning strike and Jack’s neck. Both weapons sang angrily for a split second before they were separated.

“That’s two you owe me junior,” Joe remarked off-handedly to his companion as he raised quickly from his knees.

The Assamite did not waste time with bravado. His angular, hawkish features seemed set in stone and they showed no amount of effort as his blinding swipes and jabs came one after another.

Try as he might, Joe’s lone sword could not hope to match the swiftness of his opponent’s double attacks. Fortunately, he did not have to rely on speed alone.

His sword parried and tangled in the other’s hilt guard, Joe was faced with a sweeping strike from the second sword that would surely take his head. The ancient vampire brought his free arm up and blocked the blow, causing the razor edge of the blade to bite in deeply. He sneered as his long-dead body took the punishment and the two combatants broke.

Always on the defensive, Joe found himself totally outclassed by the other. He new his way around a sword and had seen countless nights of practice, but this man put that to shame. It was a way of life for the Assamite.

The Caitiff kicked low at his enemy’s legs only to be deftly blocked by a raised foot or slapping blade. He extended the claws of his free hand and tried to slash the attackers throat but was never fast enough. In the end, only his calm detachment, experience and the tricks he had learned over the years saved him utter defeat.

BOOM! The shot took the distracted Assamite off of his agile feet. He was not stopped though, In a blink the assassin was gone again, only to be found next in front of the gunman, cutting at the offending weapon.

Joe righted himself. Seeing the battle had shifted away from him, he took a moment to concentrate. Perhaps a different trick was in order.
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec fired his last shot into the back of the Assamite as he was closing on Joe. It got his attention but did little damage. In the next instant the Assamite was in front of Alec and striking. His knife was barely out when the assasian struck.

God! He's fast

He dived backwards, almost evading the sword strike. Pain raked across his chest as the Assamite's sword hit him. Off balanced he landed in a heap on the dirt of alley. He scrambled to draw his sword, the only weapon he had left.

Too late.

Doing the only thing he could do was give in to the Beast. He felt the claws forming as he lunged at his opponent. One last desperate move.

Some how he got threw; the claws sank deep into the swordsman's gut before he pulled away.
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Post by Mark S »

Looking down at his blood soaked shirt, the Assamite scowled and flipped backwards and away from his wounded adversary. He was keeping the group separated and off balance. And doing an expert job of it. No one was not where he wanted them to be.

Grudgingly, he did have to admit that he was having a harder time of this than he had first thought. No matter how he ignored them, the bullet holes and slashes that now littered his body were taking their toll.

The flip took the shadowy warrior through the air to land before Anna Bruck. The aura she had cast had warn away during combat and now she was just another target.

A blur of whirling blades assaulted the woman.
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna blinked as the Assamite landed before her. He swung out with his left arm before she could think about blocking and caught her in the shoulder. She frowned as the blade sliced a hole in her shirt.

"Oh, you have so done it now." She growled and brought up her sword to clash against the blade in his right hand.

The two faced off, the Assamite getting in many more shots than she could defend. However, those she did block were pushed off hard. They were so entranced in fighting each other they did not notice what the others were doing.
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Post by Mark S »

Anna cross-blocked hard, slamming her enemies sword on the outside and sending it into his other arm. This served to impede the second weapon from striking, but also brought the tip of the first dangerously close to her chest. Luckily the Ventrue woman's sword had the longer reach, and managed to keep the attacker relatively at bay.

Out of nowhere, the Assamite sent a kick into Anna's stomach, throwing her onto her back. She immediately turned the fall into a backward roll and came up on her feet ready. The warrior had already shifted to another target.

Flipping back through the air, the Assamite made his second attack on Jack.

In the distance, the sound of dogs barking and howling was growing steadily. The chorus seemed to be growing in size as it came as well.
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec had taken advantage of the let up to get back on his feet. The only reason he was alive was the Assamite had let up.

The vicious slash wound across chest ached and his arm didn't move right, He staggered to his feet and grabbed his sword. He drew the blade and steadied himself. Wounded badly and feeling himself weaken more he knew he had one last chance.

The Assamite had his back to Alec, concentrating on Jack. Alec raised his sword over his head and charged the Assamite. The assasain was still turning when Alec brought his sword down through the other undead's shoulder.
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Post by Mark S »

The shadowy warrior’s mouth gapped wide in a silent scream as the other vampire’s sword penetrated his shoulder and lodged itself deeply in the bone. One deadly weapon fell to the welcoming ground.

At the same instant Jack took the opportunity to dig his razor-like claws into the Assamite’s exposed side. Pulling the assassin from his feet, he had to roll back or be run through by the attacker’s remaining and very active sword.

As the Assamite redoubled his efforts on his two closest targets the now constant sounds of approaching canines was compounded by their almost comical appearance.

Even the assassin could not help but be distracted at the sight of what had to be fifty dogs teeming down the street from either direction. Ferrel, stray or tame, they all charged in with a singularity of purpose belayed only by their chaotic yelping.

Joe stood serenely amid the throng as they swirled past him, his arms outstretched, a stupid grin on his face directed straight at his adversary.

“Ah, what sweet music they make,” he laughed as the animals surrounded and latched on to the Assamite wildly. “Actually no. They’re pretty yappy aren’t they.”

Anna, seeming the only one not dumbfounded by the display, moved into this final melee like a tiger spotting it’s prey’s fatal weakness. In seconds her enemy’s other arm was useless and the second sword clattered down to be enveloped by the seething tide of dogs.

Pinned down by two vampires and so many frantic animals, undead flesh being torn away by they minute, the warrior had no recourse but to submit when Anna’s bewitched sword was placed firmly over his heart.

“Wow,” Joe said cheerily as he released the animals from his control. “You sure didn’t think too much of us did you! Nothing like a little teamwork I guess.”
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna held the sword still. "Yes, working as a team works every time. Now, you, my Assamite friend, are in a very... sticky situation, pun intended. What do you plan on doing now?"
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Post by Mark S »

"As I expect no mercy from those who I've just attempted to send to hell," he sneered. "Especially those in the company of Eban D'Anjou. I plan to die with the knowledge that at least I won't burn with the coming dawn. I suppose none of you know the location of the nearest sanctuary, do you?"

Joe looked from the prostrate vampire to the sky, to his watch and back. "Crap."
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec walked over and kicked the Assamite in the ribs.

"You bastard. If you're going to die it's going to be a long time from now. You see, first things first. We're going to hand you over to vampires that have been wringing information out of wretches like you since the Dark Ages."

Alec flashed the Assamite a wolfish grin. He let his fangs show and the red of his eyes glaring down at them. He applied every last bit of Dominance he could to the Assamite, skewering the assasian on with his eyes.

"Now, tell us all you know about Stormcrow and you might even be allowed to leave alive."
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Post by Mark S »

The Assamite’s eyes narrowed to angry slits as he fought against Alec’s power. He couldn’t do much more with a sword waiting to run him through.

“Stormcrow? What are you talking about?” Confusion twisted the vampire’s features. “You mean the one studying our artifacts for you thieving Camarilla? Ask my Sire. He’s the one that put our mission together.”

The man’s defiant glare moved to the pre-dawn stars overhead for the briefest of moments and undeniable concern radiated from his eyes.

“Kill me and be done with it,” he demanded, eyes shooting back to the sky quickly. “You’ve already seen to it that I can barely stand. I’m beaten. End it!”

Joe stood silently listening to the exchange, arms folded. If they didn’t figure out what they were going to do soon, they would all be in trouble. He scanned the area for a patch of raw earth. Any patch. He still had tricks up his sleeve but he doubted the others did.

“God,” the Caitiff muttered to himself. “I just know somebody’s going to come along and take my stuff if I leave it out here.”

He turned his attention back to their captive and knelt down summoning all the menace he could. Grabbing the wounded man by the jaw, he twisted the head and exposed the jugular. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps we should just kill you. I don’t think I’ve eaten in about a night and a half. There doesn’t look like there’s much left in you but it might hit the spot.”

Evil poured from Joe as he spoke sending ice down the veins of friend and enemy alike. It was a side that none had seen before and none cared to see again. He grinned viciously down at the wounded man as if appraising a gladiatorial kill. Taking a blood-soaked finger into his mouth he licked it clean for affect.


“Fine,” the Assamite trembled. “If you know the taste as well as I, I won’t begrudge you. Just get it over with before the sun finishes us all.”

Joe rose to his feet, once again licking his hands, and turned to the others. He was his normal self again. The shadow of pure murderous, cancer had lifted. “That usually scares the shit out of them. This one seems more concerned about being roasted.”

He regarded the expressions of his companions for a moment. The drinking of another vampire’s blood, or diablery, was a capitol crime within Camarilla society. They could not hide their shock.

Slowly, Joe’s lips turned up. “Don’t worry. I don’t really drink used blood. I’ve never been one for sloppy seconds.”

“You mean you’re not going to kill me!?” The assassin’s eyes darted from the group to the sky as he tried to collect the last of his blood’s power into healing his legs.
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Post by Stravo »

"We really should. He wouldn't show us the same mercy, would you Child of Hassan?" Jack snarled angrily at nearly having his life taken because of the crimes of a sire he despised.
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Post by Kelly Antilles »

Anna sighed as she lowered her sword. "We have a delima here. It's going to get a bit bright soon and this is an area of the city I don't know well. This gentleman obviously knows a safe haven where we can rest. He also knows that if he betrays us in any way, he will die a most horrible death." She frowned and glared at the Assamite.
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Post by Mark S »

The Assamite shifted into a slightly more comfortable position as the sword holding him still was relaxed. Joe tensed invisibly in preparation for an escape.

"You want me to bring you to a haven," the assassin asked. "Here? And you expect to survive it? I would be killed just as swiftly as you for bringing him into one of our havens." He looked over at Jack menacingly. Even in defeat the man's burning hate would still not relent.

The groups wounded captive looked back up to the sky again. The soft purple hues of morning were painting the desert horizon. He was visibly disturbed now. It could not be hidden.

"Well you better think harder," Joe said, grabbing hold of the other's phobia. "We have no more time to argue. If you're not going to help us, we're leaving you here to burn."

Joe made a point of turning and motioning for his companions to follow.

“Wait!” Desperation screeched in the word as it called after them. “I can help you! I know a place where I can guarantee your protection.”

“Start talkin’”

As the group gathered their things and left the scene of their battle, Joe stopped and cocked his head. It was that feeling again. Like being watched. Glancing over, his eyes met Anna’s. She had felt it too.




The first rays of the sun crossed over the edge of the world seconds after the group disappeared into a series of maze-like catacombs. The beaten Assamite had to be half carried as he grudgingly lived up to his part of the bargain. If there was one thing he was deathly afraid of, it was the sun. He had seen the effects of its rays on too many friends and clansmen and would have done anything not to feel those rays himself.

Walking in the total darkness for what seemed like hours, the exhausted group of undead finally had to fall into an uneasy rest at the foot of an ancient set of stairs. Upon waking, they took up their burden again and continued on.

The further they went, the more Jack began to feel as though there would be no escape for him. He was going into the belly of the beast and every instinct told him to turn. And his captive wasn’t making things any better. Any glimpse of the man in the blackness showed nothing but raw hate. Even as weak as the assassin was, Jack new the man would still kill him if given the chance.

The stairs led to more tunnels, the tunnels led to more livable hallways, and the hallways eventually led to a large, open room.

The room was brightly lit with wall mounted sconces as well as beautifully wrought chandeliers. Light played off of the hanging crystal, sending rainbows and diamonds over every surface.

Where the walls were not painted in intricate geometric patterns of blue and red and black, they were completely white. The large columns too, that lined the sides of the main sitting area, were a smooth marble white.

The centre of the room was occupied with a great, square, low-standing table surrounded by pillows of every shape and colour. The pillows were everywhere in fact and would have been the only form of furniture if not for the inconspicuous benches that sat against the walls at even intervals.

A solitary man sat amongst the pillows gently feeding a peregrine falcon by hand. He wore the long, flowing, traditional robes of his people and kept a neatly trimmed beard and mustache on his face.

The falcon began to squawk as they entered

“So you have returned my childe to me,” he said in perfect English, not taking his eyes from his bird. “And humbled, I hope. I suppose I must apologise for him. Ehab has seen many of his close clansmen fall at the hands of Geoffrey D’Anjou and would not differentiate between him and one of his embraced. You must be quite good to have beaten him. And gotten him to bring you here no less.”

The man spared a glance from Ehab to Jack. “Don’t worry here young one. I have no interest in Prodigals. Though I wouldn’t linger in Jerusalem too long if I were you.”
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Post by Stormbringer »

Alec looked around nervously. He noted that they came in through the only entrance. The catacomb was clearly acient, probably as old it's occupant. It was well maintained but showed it's age, little details, frayed pillows, cracks in the walls. This elder probably hadn't ventured far in decades at least.

Alec felt himself stagger a little. His wound pained him greatly, he didn't have the combat Disciplines of the others. Without rest and time to heal he probably wouldn't be on his feet much longer.

"We thank you for our hospitality. We are in most grateful though. I am most curious as to whom it is we owe our gratitude." Alec smiled weakly as he spoke.
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Post by Mark S »

“Where are my manners,” the elder said, turning to the group and placing the falcon on a small stand beside him. He seemed to suddenly remember himself “You are now guests in my home, for better or worse, and you shall be treated as such. My name, young one, is Al-Fazeed Eban Rashad, Eban Al-Abbas, Eban Hassan.”

He clapped his hands once and a stream of servants poured in from the hallway. They led the companions to the pillows around the table and brought large goblets of what appeared and smelled like warm blood. As Ehab was spread out, his wounds were examined.

The servants tried to examine the other’s wounds as well, to varying degrees of success. Joe would let no one touch the deep gash in his arm and other odd slashes. Alec was far to weak to object.

“And who might you be that brings low my Childe yet spares his life and that I now extend my hospitality toward?”

“The name’s Joe,” the Caitiff started guardedly. He didn’t like this. The situation was far too dangerous. To his mind, being a guest in a vampire’s home was never a good thing. He didn’t even want to think about being a guest in the home of one of the assassins.

Especially with Reece.

Joe swatted away another annoying servant and looked to the others to continue.
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