Dark_RP

Session Four:

Necropolitan Shadows.


With that the mysterious agent Elizarov disappeared into the dark night of shadowlands Berlin, and the desperate circle of wraiths that crewed the relic A7V were left to ponder his proposal, a proposal of espionage.
Now alone with the unhearing living family they briefly discussed matters, and what they may mean, before deciding that they would indeed go along with the Masquer, before going their own separate ways into the gloom.
Some days later while outside the Necropolis patroling wider Berlin for Spectre activity they spotted the majestic shadow and then form of the ghostly LZ-4 relic airship of the Nightmail, heading in from the west to the Citadel, and flying with an escort of 2 biplanes as a unit of winged Legionnaires fly up to meet it using Argos.
In this time Eckhart Von Dekker was also Called up to fly several scout flights for Colonel Haveland of the local branch of the Office of Maelstrom Preparedness.

Shortly after this, during a foot patrol one night, on the very edge of the Necropolis inhabited by most local wraiths, on a dark and disused Skinlands industrial roadway in a quiet area frequented mainly by insignificant freewraiths out to gain Pathos from haunting whatever living workers or homeless remained in the area, they come across a wraith stood atop a skinlands plinth from which the statue had seemingly been toppled or stolen during the troubles at the end or the War.
He was tall and crudely swathed in heavy dark rags though with neat greased down side-parted hair and wide, dark eyes.
Around him is gathered a small crowd of 10 or so other Wraiths.
Gesticulating as he spoke, he shouted Brothers, Sisters, we should not be here! Our time has passed! And yet we remain, between the world of the living and what comes after.
We must move on from this place! Inside us all is a a part of us, a voice that can guide us down to eternal rest, we must listen to that voice!
They each felt, as the dark preacher ranted on from the pedestal,the strength of their Shadows stir within them and increase dangerously at his words. Recognising that his words must also be affecting the gathered crowd in the same way, not to mention the seditious Heresy he was preaching, they moved in to stop him.

The circle moved forward through the small crowd, some turning back to them telling them to disperse in the name of the Empire, while others moved on the preacher. The preacher, upon closer inspection clearly a Spectre long fallen to his Shadow, immediately moved to defend himself, and admonishing them for their presumption drew a worn and notched sword from inside his black rags.
The fight was swift and deadly, as Hughcastle and Stringer help back and distracted the crowd, Legionnaires Von fenrig and Von Dekker fought with the corrupted soul. The Speactral preacher fought with ferocity, using his sword to slash and parry while raining down blows fortified by Outrage. But soon enough Von Fenrig's sword of Stygian Steel and Von Dekker's relic riffle tore open his corpus and a black nihil opened beneath his feet sucking him down into the Labyrinth and what lies beneath.
After little more encouragement the crowd of bewildered and now more angst-ridden ghosts dispersed back into the shadowed alleys of the city.

Not long after the incident and their subsequent reports, their respective commanders and superiors paid them their monthly oboloi and granted them 2 days leave in the city of Berlin, during which time they would be entirely free to do as they wished, seek any of their passions, or the services of any Guild.
At Hughcastle's instegation they decided to meet up at the House of The Last Goodbye, a potent Haunt and popular hangout of freewraiths, Guildsmen, and Legionnaires in the Necropolis, and also a beer hall in the skinlands called the Good Welcome. A dilapidated place in the skinlands frequented only by a few drunks used by the wraithy patrons as pathos fodder. Through the shroud the wood and brick structure is owned by a freewraith by the name of Hanz Von Bitter, and takes on odder angles seeming even more tumbledown, but also reinforced by relic materials and soulsteel against the storm, and filled with a myriad of relic objects both practical and aesthetic accumulated by its owners. The place is lit both by small flickering soulfire torches in brackets on the walls and the dim warm glow coming through the shroud from the lanterns in the skinlands. It consisted of a bar against one wall, a seating area with alcoves, and a small stage at one end. The walls were also disturbingly littered with pin-prick nihils in various places.
On the door is a big burly wraith of the Spooks Guild with very corpse looking blueish-green skin and dark sunken eyes with a throat slit ear to ear, Gustav, he collects one quarter Oboloi from each of them for entry.
The interior is filled with wraithly patrons both in uniform and out, some sullen as all ghosts are wont to be at times but most loudly jovial, seizing on the opportunity for pleasure and comfort. There were various Guildsmen there plying their wares among the patrons, including Chanteurs on the stage, both singers and musicians, whose songs bring feelings of joy and hope to those that hear them.
After they have been there a short while a group of 3 American Grim Legionnaires take the stage with Chanteur musicians to the rapturous calls of all the patrons, introducing themselves as the Men of Constant Sorrow. They sing a rowdly but tunefull song together which has all present clapping along them.
The circle of Stringer, Hughcastle, Von Dekker, & Von Fenrig, after blowing a significant portion of the wages on expensive "imported" relic brandy, returned to their respective barracks or guildhouses, resting, then spending the majority of the next day on personal business.

Back on duty once again helping to keep the Hierarchy's grip strong on the Necropolis area of Berlin, and having just done a foot patrol with the others outside of the Necropolis into wider Berlin in search of spectral activity, Von Fenrig finds a note hidden in her bunk, it simply says "Tomorrow night, at the house. Tell the others. Make ready."
Legionnaire Fenrig passes the word along as soon as she is able and the next night they set off for the same family home in which Elizarov met them the first time.
The front room was as they saw it last, but the hour was later and the daughters of the living family had gone to bed as the parents pottered about their businesses in the dim gas-light.
In the corner stood over 6 prone ghostly forms is agent Elizarov of the Masquers Guild, appearing exactly as he did when last they saw him. "Gentleman, it is good to see you again. Shall we begin?"
They noticed that the 6 Figures on the floor appeared in military uniform, had the corpus of their hands, feet, eyes, ears, and mouths melded together, and appeared to be in slumber.
Amid their questions Elizarov explained that they are a group Of Grim Legion officers privy to the concpiracy, Centurions, just in from Stygia serving under one Chancellor Amistead possibly in the Iron Hills, and are due to be briefed at the Grim Legion's Berlin HQ on the situation by one Overlord Schwarzenberg, a senior figure in the Legion's local military apparatus.
Their he said names are Heidleberg, Jones, Dietrich, Fisher, Entaire, and Stuccini.
After explaining that they will be temporarily replacing the officers for the purpose of the briefing, Elizarov begins to use his arts of Moliate to craft and change their appearances to perfect replicas of prone Centurions, and instructs them to each change their attire accordingly.
He warns them that is possible to those with the right knowledge to see the signs of moliation, and so they should give no one there any reason to suspect them or examine them in that way, merely act the part, go to the briefing, listen, and ask any pertinent questions. Then he will meet them again again outside the gates.
The masqued Elizarov told them little more than that, but says that he does know that the Centurions in question are not known personally by any in Berlin, and reiterates the list of things they should learn if they can, asking them if they have any further questions before they leave, he then changed his own appearance and removing his mask and now appearing as a Russian infantryman of the period, with nondescript features and slicked back dark hair.
They then steeped back through the skinlands wall into the quiet narrow winding German street and head back to the Necropolis area in their new personas, travelling in a relic military jeep with the Grim symbol on its sides that Elizarov had seemingly acquired.

The Grim Legion's Headquarters was a large tall square heavily fortified building of relic stone and soulsteel with only arrow-slit windows, surrounded by a manned wall pierced by a double gate of blackened soulsteel.
At the gates there are 2 armoured gas masked guards, Elizarov identifies himself as Legionnaire Petrov, escorting an expected party of Centurions just in from Stygia. They were allowed to pass through a smaller door in the gates and into the courtyard, which was bustling with both troops at ease and those practising drill to the beat of a snare drum. Relic armoured cars and tanks were parked against one side of the courtyard, while on the other was the entrance to the subterranean Soulforges, flickering with a bright blue light and emanating wails and moans along with the rythmic metalic clang of regular hammer strikes.
Elizarov turns to them and says, "Wait here, I will inform the relevant parties inside that the Stygian Centurions have arrived, after that you're on your own until we meet outside."
Without eve a glance over his shoulder he then walks of into the Grim edifice. A short while later a ghostly German soldier in Prussian combat fatigues approaches them and says they are to be led directly to the briefing and afterward shown to their quarters in the barracks. He then led them away, asking them how things were in Stygia as they invented answers for him.
They were led deep into the plain relic stone corridors of the barracks, and then straight into an equally plain meeting room in which was a wooden table with 6 seats on one side and one grander chain on the other, in which already sat Overlord Schwarzenberg. He was a large deathly looking ghostappearing in an archaic ceremonial officers uniform complete with faded brocade and medals, wavey dark hair parted to one side and mutton-chop side-burns. Behind him hung banner with the symbol of the Grim Legion emblazoned upon it.
He stood slowly as they entered and the Prussian Legionnaire took up position outside the door. "All hail to the new Emperor, I trust your journey from the capitol has been as good as can be expected in these dark times?"
After the initial formal pleasantries he bade them sit down, and asked after the situation and conditions in the Iron Hills, they replied simply saying that all was well there and all proceeded according to plan.
He then briskly proceeded with the briefing, saying "Things do not proceed acording to plan Gentleman, nevertheles they remian on track."
He went on to say that "The Empire of Jade it seems has so far been eager to accept our own offer over that of the Loyalists. In return for the Loyalist's negotiating agent, one Marshall Drescher, and certain other valuable Hierarchy prisoners, belonging to both the Grim and other Legions, and a treaty of support for our new Emperor, The Imperator will begin to turn over the large number of Eastern souls technically belonging to the Empire of Jade currently housed in the towers of the Iron Hills off Stygia. This will enable us to re-position many of our troops stationed on the Eastern Frontier and use them against the Loyalist forces.
Out contact, Minister Xian Tsung, will be signing on behalf of Yu-Huang himself the treaty and agreement at one final meeting when the exchange for the loyalist commander Marshall Drescher will also take place.
Due to an interruption by a Loyalist unit after the initial ambush at Outpost 9 the time and place of the meeting will now have to be changed from our initial plan.
The original plan to fool the Loyalist pick up party into believing their meeting at Outpost 9 had been interrupted by spectres was foiled by an unexpected event, a survivor of the Jade ambush, an Indian who managed to hide himself in some fashion, then tell the tale of what had happened to the Loyalist unit that arrived onbored a relic tank.
It is believed they searched the compound and gave chase with air support in the hopes of rescuing their Marshall, and then came upon the temporary Jade encampment situated in the nearby Tempest.
Reports indicate their subsequent attack was somewhat haphazard and uncoordinated, and easily foiled by the Immortal Guardsmen the Easterners have with them. However, taken by surprise and not knowing that this was simply one rogue unit operating without army support of any kind, Minister Xian Tsung called on his men to withdraw deeper into the Tempest on their ship, where they now await.
A new meeting has been preliminarily scheduled in Paris in an area that one Centurion Von Fenrig, currently overseeing the area, now assures us is securely in our hands with very little resistance activity.
The Black Mask in their midst assures us that the Loyalists know very little, only that the Jade emissaries appear to have turned against them for some reason and kidnapped Drescher for thir own ends. They will no doubt attempt to hunt down the Minister and his party for their treachery, but in the shifting and dangerous Tempest they have no idea where to look and stand very little chance of being able to to find them.
While the Countess shifted uncomfortably at the mention that her late husband was in the Shadowlands and working for the Grim Legion, Hucastle, under the guise of Dietrich, asked Schwarzenberg what the true current location of the Jade party actually was, and the Overlord replied that they are believed to be be slowly making their way toward Paris through the Tempest.
Stringer, as Entaire, then asked When the exchange will be taking place, and the Overlord told them in approximately one week within the Paris suburbs.
Von Fenrig, as Stuccini, asked ater the identity of the Black Mask operative within the Loyalist camp and Schwarzenberg told them that it was one of the two highest ranking members of the Silent Legion in Berlin, more than that he could not say.
Schwarzenberg then told them that they would be receiving their initial assignments the next day, and the fake group of Grim officers saluted, and filed out of the room.
The Prussian Legionnaire then showed them to some quarters in the compound and told they must report for duty tomorrow at dawn and then left them in their new quarters. There was a brief debate as to whether they should attempt some other act of espionage or sabotage in the compound, or make straight for the exit. The later argument prevailed they attempted to walk unassumingly out of the building and toward the gate of the compound.
As promised Elizarov awaited them round the corner as the Russian infantryman, and with but a nod he swiftly lead them away, and after they had tirned a few darkened corners asked them what they had learned, every detail.
Seemingly disturbed by the news that the Black Mask agent is of high rank, he led them quickly through more twists and turns to make sure they were not being followed.
They came directly to a backstreet square where a another wraith awaited them, she appeared in a long bodiced blue dress under a long heavy grey cloak with the hood up, on her face she wore a plain silver mask with a third eye etched into the forehead and cut away at the mouth revealing pale ghostly skin and ruby lips.
"This is Eva, she will merely look at you for a moment", said Elizarov' and upon then being questioned by his suddenly hesitant compatriots, he explained that it is so the slumbering Legionnaires will be able to correctly remember the meeting that they did not attend. Seemingly placated by the mysterious answer, "Eva" then regarded them each in turn for but a moment before enshrouding and walking away without a word. Elizarov says he is going to clean up at the family's house, before telling them that though he may be on hand, what they do now with what they have learned is up to them, as he promised.
He too then enshrouds, disappearing before their eyes.








(previous chapter)

Under The Black Cross X
A Call To Arms I


The Itinerant Company dallied for but a while longer in the tumultuous lands of the Crusader States, saying goodbye to their friends and allies that dwelt in the war-torn lands of Faith, and receiving promise of welcome from Prince Etienne whenever they should return to Acre.
They booked passage on a merchant vessel heading for Zara with themselves as sleeping cargo and Dragovitch as the guardian.
Zara had largely been rebuilt under Venetian control since their last eventful stop there, but their stay was brief, as after making sure none watched their movements, they headed north-eastwards toward Transylvania and their true master of the hour, Vladimir Rustovitch, the Voivode among Voivodes.
Their route took them through the treacherous Carpathian passes, and toward Lord Bodor's lands of the Vale of Toth. The Boyar was not present upon their arrival, departed with his childe Erzebet and some of their forces to join the war with Rustovitch, but Pietre, the younger childe who Mortius years ago had inducted into the Cainite Heresy remained to watch over his father's estates, and welcomed his old friends to Castle Toth before their journey took them further eastwards.
At length they reached the isolated and looming fortress of Rustovitch, high in the Transylvanian Alps and heavily guarded by numerous patrols of mounted Vlaszy Knights and fearsome Bratovich's with their Hellhounds.
Upon reaching the keep they were taken by one of the seneschals to the great hall, where, beneath the great banner of the red dragon, Vladimir Rustovitch stood around the table with some of his generals of the Revenant Families, and upon seeing the Company's entrance dismissed them for a time, welcoming his hidden weapons to the hall, and bade them sit, ordering refreshments before asking them to tell all they had come to tell.
The Voivode was clearly a Lord with business to attend to as the still unrolled parchments displaying battle plans on the oak table suggested, hid demeanour was brisk and to the point though he listened with interest to the account of Von Achern's death, drinking in the details.
After they had told their tale he spoke of the coming war, the battles that would end the conflict between himself and Lord Jurgen, telling them that their continued services to him and his allies would be needed in the nights to come. He said that they should go to Lord Jurgen at his court in Magdeberg and assure the Eastern Lord Ventrue of their continued allegiance , accepting service among their allies in the nights to come, and when the time was right they would be given the opportunity to fight openly by his side and reap the rewards adding that until that time Dragovitch would remain with him, as the revenant merely nodded, accepting his fate.
With that, and saying that much demanded his attention, he stood, leaving the great hall by the door his generals had left by and promising them the hospitality of his keep till they journeyed west.
The Company stayed in the bustling yet isolated great keep of Rustovitch for the night and talked among themselves, setting their story's straight before facing Jurgen.
And so they journeyed north-west to the eastern marches of the Holy Roman Empire and across the Elbe to the city of Magdeberg.
The clean and well-ordered grey stone german city was obviously heavily millitarized when they arrived, Teotonic Knights manning the walls and gates as the white banner with the black cross of the order flew from all towers, and soldiers departing for Hungary filled the streets.
At Castle Magdeberg, overlooking the town, they were led to Lady Lucretia Von Hartz childe of Jurgen upon arrival. There she asked many questions, probing of their deeds and reasons while away with her late brood-mate, and commenting that it would take decades to repair the damage Von Achern's rash actions had done them in the courts of Hungary. Still, she commented, it was a great shame he had met final death, for war was upon them and he was a great warrior...
They were led to the grand hall of the keep where Lord Jurgen awaited them. The opulent hall with its grand Ventrue banners was quiter than their last visit, no longer filled with the hordes of scheming visiting Cainites. Surrounded by a small group of noble courtiers Jurgen sat upon his throne and accepted their bows as they entered. He asked many of the same questions as Lucretia, perhaps to hear their answers for himself, before saying that they had made the right choice concerning Etienne and Acre, but questions why they had not intervined to save his childe and their master. He was told by them with as much humility as they could muster that to do so would have meant revealing themselves too before the very King of Hungary himself, shattering the Silence of The Blood yet further...
Jurgen nodded, saying that the Baron had doomed himself the moment he had shown his fangs before a King, and that it was unlikely they could saved him in such circumstances.
They offered their continued service, and the Sword-Bearer accepted, saying that capable Cainites would be of use in the coming conflict.
They stayed in Mgdeberg for some weeks, reaquainting themselves with the place and its denizens and reporting to Lady Lucretia.
Years passed as the storm built, the Teutonic Order continued to move forces into Hungary and numerous skirmishes were fought by night between them and Rustoviches forces, at times the Company was called to Transylvania by Jurgen to swing the balance in his favour, which they did, after contacting the Voivode Among Voivodes of course.
In the intervening years there was also much time for their own pursuits, and many of them travelled far and wide.
Bother Mortius attended the Cappadocian Conclave of Milan at the invitation of Adam of Jerusalem, to debate the nature of the death and the human soul.
Maelduin and Volund returned to the pagan Kingdom of Lithuania to fight the good fight against the encroaching tide of Christianity along side their Baltic brethren.
Baradeus returned to Nicea but spent more time in the city of London among the servants of Mithras, even obtaining a small band of mortal mercenaries and ghouling and inducting their sergeant into Mithraism, while Gregoire turned his attention to the maintenance of their trading company.
It was now the year 1225 AD, and the Company was together in the Transylvanian city of Krondstadt, where Lord Jurgen The Sword-Bearer had made his headquarters, and the best defended settlement in the region now that it was filled to bursting with Teutonic Knights and german mercenaries. Morale in the city seemed low, for as the Lucretia and the other leading Ventrue seem confident in their Lord's ultimate succsess, many of the Vampire and ghoul Knights to not share their optimism, for thanks to Lady Kara and her agents things had gone ill for them in the Courts of Hungary, and without that support things can only hold so long they say.
On one of their patrols outside the city walls among the heavily forested terrain they spot a strange creature circling in the sky above, as they looked closer they saw that it had a hawks body, bat-like wings, and an indeterminate head. The creature circled down lower and landed on the ground before them and in the moonlight revealed its head to be a human hand, rudely stitched in to the torso in the same fashion that held the wings in place.
As the creature sniffed the air with its fingers it hoped forward, then snaped a small stick from a nearby tree, griping it as a writing plume, pierced its own breast, letting the blood dribble out before using it as an ink to write, in a surprisingly neat hand, upon the tree.
My old associates,
I have a message of some interest for your Lord Jurgen. Meet me under the new moon tonight in the village of Milash, and I can convey it to you.
With regards,
Jervais bani Tremere
Having delivered its message, the ghastly beast convulses and dies before their eyes.
Being now at least partly familiar with the surrounding region they knew that Milash was a small village near the next city of Hamenstadt, on the western shore of the river Olt.
It would be a hard ride to reach Milash that night, but they knew that whatever Jervais wanted must be important to Jurgen, and perhaps Rustovich, so they returned to the walled city of Krondstadt for their steeds before riding hard out of its gates and on to the rough Transylvanian roads, into the night towards Milash.
Milash, they knew, was once a holding of the Bratovich Revenant family, the Tzimisce's fearsome footsoldiers and breeders of Hellhounds, but had been taken with great bloodshed by German Knights at the start of the conflict, but now the local Bratoviches and their Boyar were re grouping and many Teutons had fallen back from the town towards Krondstadt. Milash, it seemed, was on the verge of falling a second time.
They arrived at the small wooden-walled village on the banks of the river after two hours hard ridding through unusually quiet woodland. They were admitted by the sullen Teutonic guardsmen at the gate and entering the mud-filled streets saw that there was but one inn in the village.
They entered the low-ceilinged tavern, and saw the familiar shape of the Tremere Magus sat as still as a corpse in the shadowed corner.
Approaching him his eyes snapped open from beneath his thick hood of deep purple.
He greeted them, dismissing the circumstances under which they had last met as poor choices on his part. After they sat down with him he told them that their liege had asked him to to bring him something, but that he did not wish to make the treacherous journey to Krondstadt by night and then return to Ceoris, hence the meeting in Milash.
He pulled out a small velvet pouch, tied with metal wire and dyed with various arcane symbols. He told them it was what Lard Jurgen had been waiting for.
Stating that the Fiends attachment to to their native soil went much further than most suspect, that they are also mystically bound to the soil of their mortal graves, the places they died or where fleetingly buried .
In the bag, he told them, was dirt from the grave of Vladimir Rustovitch. Destroy some of it in the right way, and you can cause harm to the Fiend like he has never felt..
Jervais stood to leave, but as he did so there was a thunderous bang, accompanied by panicked screams and a bright hot glow from the windows of the tavern.
The inn erupted into chaos as the patrons scrambled to get out through the single doorway. Baradeus and Gregoire both lost control at the sight of the furious flames, Baradeus charged forwards and out of the inn using the strength of his blood to crush the innocent that stood in his way, while Gregoire simply rand forward screaming and broke through the inn's daub walls. Once in the streets they could see more bright-hot flaming balls streaking toward them through the night sky accompanied by the sounds of fierce fighting at the town's gates.
Upon going down the main street they could see the Teutonic Knights that were still in residence vainly attempting to hold off a larger group of axe wielding Bratovich's and their fleshcrafted hounds, while behind them through the smashed gates waited a larger force, Szlatcha and mounted Vlazy Knights awaited for the gate to be cleared while two monstrously large and terrible Vozhd hurled great balls of Greek Fire toward the village with specially crafted arms like those of a catapult, and in the midst of it all some unknown Boyar sat atop his steed surveying the destruction.
Another screaming ball of flames came hurtling toward them and all but Gregoire ran clear in time, but the errant childe of Malkav moved not fast enough, and was caught by some of the showering liquid fire. The others scrambled to smother the flames, but Baradeus had sighted a woman screaming from within a burning house near the inn/ Looking up he saw her at the window, hair and clothes already burning. Summoning all of his courage he quelled his frightened beast, and making use of his Vampiric strength, jumped straight up to the burning window, griping the frame that was bright hot embers while taking hold of the screaming woman with the other. He grasped her, but hell as he did so, nevertheless the fall was to safety as she landed on top of him. Locals came to aid her and smothered the flames that still licked at her while the rest simply ran on by, fleeing the town and certain death as fast as their legs would carry them.
Baradeus caught up with the rest of the Company as they too decided to leave Milash, and made for the river as fast as they could, plunging in to its cold depths as the Bratoviches and their Boyar entered the town, slaying all who had served the german occupiers and burning their homes.
Their flight was swift through the trees on the other side of the Olt, and they did not look back to those that were being slaughtered without mercy in Milash. They could not reach Krondstadt that night, and so after a time buried themselves in the earth to escape the killing rays of the sun, and marched on upon awaking, reaching Krondstadt some hours into the next night, soaked, burned, and muddy.
After entering the city, now even more swollen with refugees, they made for Jurgen's abode in the local Bran Castle, and were soon ushered in to the hall there, where Lord Jurgen stood surrounded by his childer and the other Cainites of The Order of The Black Cross and their ghouled Knights, almost filling the hall.
After bowing they told Jurgen what had transpired, and handed to him the pouch given to them by Jervais, minis the real earth which they had hidden and replaced en-route. He gratefully took it from them, before turning to stand upon the dais before his throne and address his followers.
For years we have cut at the heart of the Fiends by brothers!
We have fought their thralls and monstrosities, cut down countless of their young and old alike. We have ridden through gardens molded flesh and torn out the heart of broods more horrific than anything in Hades. And still our true foe has not shown himself.
Deep in those dark hills, sits a dark chieftain who thinks to send his brood against us without bloodying himself. Well no more!
I call him out! Let the terrible Vladimir Rustovitch enter the field of battle, and we shall see who the greater warrior is.
I hold here two handfuls of the earth that he holds dearer than blood, and through this the fiend hears my call most terribly.
With that Jurgen tossed the pouch into the flames of a nearby brazier, a gout of greenish fire curling up from the pouch as the mystical bindings burned away, letting the earth settle among the embers.
Yes Fiend! Feel the flames burn and come to me! For the Order of The Black Cross awaits you!
He raised the Toreador sword high above his head as those assembled began to chant his name for all to hear, Jurgen! Jurgen! Jurgen!...
The Company joined in the chant, seeing the folly of pride at work all around them as they did so.
Some nights later Jurgen held another court in Bran Castle, it was rumoured that Lady Kara and her agents had finally done their work as King Andras had ordered the Teutonic Knights out of his kingdom, but the Sword-Bearer sought to delay the departure and lure Rustovitch into open battle where he could be defeated.
Those hall was filled much as it had been some nights ago and the Company talked among themselves until the herald made an announcement, Master Vykos of Byzantium!
Myca Vykos walked forward, dressed in his plain but fine robes with his dark hair falling down his back. He presented himself to Lord Jurgen, and then announced that Vladimir Rustovitch has heard his call, and is riding to the assault. He says that through his spies among the revenant houses he knows that the signs of mobilization are every where in the Carpathian homeland, the entire east was moving toward Krandstadt he said, all of Rustovitch's legions.
Jurgen thanks and dismisses him with a curt nod, but once Vykos' back is turned they see his smile with obvious satisfaction.
Vykos made no move to speak to them during the court, but later, once most had left, they found him waiting for them outside the chamber.
He warned them that the war was about to take a turn for the worst, and that the current bloodshed would pale in comparison to what was to come. He said that Rustovitch was no fool and that whatever Jurgen's plans where he could not hope to turn a defeat into victory, but the war was far from over he said, and unless something was done many more innocents my die for but little gain by their Lords.
Volund replied that sometimes the innocent must die for a victory to be achieved, but Vykos was predictably unmoved by his point, saying that he did not expect a barbarian to understand how civilised warfare was to be conducted, and after Volund protested yet again, turned and left, saying that perhaps he had been wrong to warn them after all...
Shortly after talking with the enigmatic Obertus, Akuji, Lord Jurgen's Cainite mistress of spies appeared by their sides. The black Nosferatu questioned them sharply as to the nature of their conversation with Vykos, whom she plainly didn't trust, and seemingly not quite satisfied with their answers, stalked away slowly, leaning on her staff as she went.
The Teutonic holdings were shrinking by the night as in the dark and wooded countryside entire villages were put to the sword as their garrisons fled back to Krondstadt, swelling Jurgen's central army all the more, concentrating his forces as the Tzimisce took back their petty villages, preaparing for that final and decisive strike that he had waited so long to deliver...

But what ever the case, the end was nigh, and all knew it.







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