London, December 20th, 1791
London, a city that never rests. The streets are bustling with people going about their business, filled with seasonal cheer, untouched by the fear gripping some of the cities on the continent.
Amongst the busy streets and good cheer, couriers are about their work, delivering messages all across the city. They are all being paid by one man, and they all carry the same message –
http://lucasforums.com/picture.php?albumid=100&pictureid=3631)
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King’s Theatre – 9.00PM
Thomas Leyton sat at his desk in the well-lit cellar, filling in his journal.
“…furthermore, I have sent messages to a select group of individuals. Persons whom, I hope will make valued additions to our organisation, and take the fight to our enemies, who, if the reports from France and Austria are to be believed, are growing in strength.
This may well be my last entry for some time, which is why I shall leave this book in the hands of my manservant, with instructions to hand it to the Bishop of London, a trusted friend, should anything befall me”
He set his quill down, closed the book, and placed it in a silk sheath, before handing it to his servant, who had been waiting patiently.
“Keep it somewhere safe, and don’t remove it unless it is necessary,” Charles, his servant, had served him faithfully for many years – and he considered him a valued friend. So valued, in fact, that he would be left in charge of Thomas’ holdings in England.
He sent him away, and then looked at his watch. In a few hours, he would be meeting with those individuals he had notes sent to this morning. He wondered how many of them, if any, would come, if only to satisfy their own curiosity.
He stood up, put on his cloak, and grabbed his hat and cane. He often liked to take in the night air, and savour the atmosphere of London, even on such a cold night as this – and he would require a clear head for what was to come.
Former Captain Velic of the British Army knew that his quarry was smart but he didn't expect it to be quite this smart.
The creature had attacked a woman in one of the other allys to draw Velic as far away from it's trail as he could. After making the sure the poor woman was alright he had resumed his chase and now watched the thing as it began to scale the wall that sperated two of the allys.
He's moving quite fast. Faster then any man could.
Velic slowly and quietly pulled his Blunderbuss off it's back strap, made sure it was loaded and took careful aim at the creature's back.
Blast!
The thing must have somehow detected his approach because the very second before he could fire it began to move even faster. The blast took the creature in the shoulder as it scaled over the wall.
Velic stared at the spot where the creature was and shook his head. It was his fault the blighters had come to London. And he intended to rectify his mistake.
He thought back on the letter he had recieved earlier...asking him to meet someone in the basement of King's theatre. It was a three hour walk if he started now.
Velic strapped the Blunderbuss back to his back and started on the way to King's theatre. Maybe someone there knows more about these creatures.
Manfred Freiherr Von Hempel sat in the study of his small flat in Western London, overlooking the Thames river. He didn't really live in London, nor did he want to, even now he yearned for the Family's Estate in Berlin...but he had a mission to complete.
He was completely concentrated on writing down his recent discoveries in a small diary of his, all of these discoveries were vital to the discovery of his younger sister, Katherine.
She had disappeared 2 years ago, just as Manfred was returning from his Tour of Duty with the Prussian Navy, and was trying to get another transfer into the Cavalry, until he recieved a letter from his mother, regarding the strange disappearance of his sister.
After that, he resigned his commission, and embarked on a mission to find his sister. It had been two years, and the hideous discoveries and stress had taken a toll on Manfred's mind, and he was considered partially insane. Of course, he knew it, and didn't mind it one bit. One would need to be insane if they had accomplished as much as he did in the first thirty-years of his life.
Found remnants of a strange secret society in the slums of London...all of course, are in some way infected with the strange 'Blood Plague'...it isn't too hard to identify them, as their distinguishing mark are two, circular, scars, often on the neck or some other major artery...found a remains of some strange ritual, something involving a sacrifice of sort, judging by the body of I found there, which was bloodless and mutilated...absolutley horrific.....
...I suspect the leaders of this strange 'Blood Cult' cannot be too far now. I have a possible location in the slums that may be where they are...it seems the Plague is far more frequent amongst the poor in London, which comes to me as no surprise...the slums probably make up for 70 percent of this dirty, English, city...
...will write down more tomorrow..tonight should be an interesting one..
He put down his writing quill and stood, stretching his arms. Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door, and thumping of his assistant's feet, as the man rushed to answer the door.
Manfred pulled on his black jacket and put his General's cap, which he had kept with him since the days of his military career, about 10 years ago.
His assistant, Hans, walked into the study and gave a small bow.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, Freiherr Von Hempel, but a courier just brought a message for you."
"Sehr gut...where is it?"
Hans handed a small, yellowish, scroll, and Manfred took it, being rather rough with it.
The Prussian opened it and began to read it.
"Meet me at King's Theatre...20th...midnight...."
He looked up at the clock at the top of the study.
"VERDAMMT! That leaves only 20 minutes!! Blasted ineffecient Britische couriers!"
Manfred missed the effeciency of Prussia...which he had not found in the British people, yet. He wasn't entirely enjoying London.
"Hans! Get your pistol and jacket, we must get to King's Theatre before midnight! I'll get a horse!"
He ran outside, and right into the middle of the busy street, right in front of an incoming carriage and four horses.
Manfred stopped, and began waving his hands and shouting at the carriage, and the driver abruptly tried to stop his horses from running the man over.
The Prussian stayed his ground, and the horses stopped but an inch from his feet.
The driver stood from his perch, "What in blazes are you doing? Do you mean to get yourself killed or are you going to kill my horses with your bloody crazy antics!"
Manfred ran over to the door of the carriage, opened it, and pulled it's occupants out, a man and a woman.
"Terribly sorry, but it seems the glory of the Fatherland needs this carriage."
He left the two people sitting in the street, there faces utterly confused. Hans came quickly and got on the other side of the carriage.
Manfred told the driver to take them to King's Theatre, and with that, he sat down, resting in the comfortable seat as the driver rode off with them.
Hans was looking out the back window at the well-dressed couple who were still sitting in the street.
"Mein Herr, I'm not sure we needed to do that...."
"Why not, we don't have a carriage."
"No sir, we do."
Von Hempel opened his mouth to say something, but didn't, falling back into the seat.
"Oh...of course, I knew that."
Blood dripped from the scruffy man's face.
There was nothing else besides the blood. He had his mangled skin, he had his red eyes, he had his decrepit features... but there was nothing in them. No life, no expression, no hope. Only a waterfall of blood that tainted and spread across the puddle of rainwater below.
This man, a common beggar, had saved a year's worth of assets acquired from grabbing at peoples' coats, holding his hands out, and praying, buying only a piece of bread a day. And now, it was gone. A man in dark clothes, torn and frayed, had descended upon his precious money like a vulture. But the specter had robbed him of much more. With only his fists, this villain had taken his last bits of faith, and now, nothing could rescue him but God, Himself. And even He shook his head at the filthy beggar.
"I'll... I'll get the police..." the beggar said through the pool of blood in his mouth.
The robber wiped the blood from his hands. "A bloody beggar like you? This police here would feel I did 'em a favor."
"I've done nothing to you.... Nothing. I'm an innocent man..."
"Is that right?" the man replied, kicking a whiskey bottle deeper into the dark alley. "I'll use this money on your behalf. The way you'd want it to be spent. Though I prefer ale, myself."
Before the beggar could respond, another figure stepped into the alley.
He spoke in a raspy voice. "Ay, you. I've got somethin' for you."
This new person was heavily coated, and not even his eyes could be seen. "Kamarov, right? Mikhail Kamarov?" he said, and handed the assaulter a note.
"Right..." Mikhail said, accepting the message. Immediately, he drew his blunderbuss and pointed it in the cloaked man's face. The cloaked man remained indifferent. "You're not telling anyone what you're seeing here, correct?"
The figure only said, "Why would I?", then stepped out of the alley. Mikhail glanced at the letter.
"Why would I?"
Velic had been heading toward King's theatre when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle in one of the many allyways.
It looks like I'll have to settle this problem myself. There aren't any police around and I doubt they'd even help.
He drew his long sword and stepped into the ally only to see a tall man threatning one of the many beggers who populated London.
"I say...Even though I'm not quite fond of beggers and that sort of lot...I can't let this behavior continue. Please step away from that man at once."
He quickly looked down at his pocket watch. Blast. Only twently minutes left.
"Oh, thank goodness you came. This beggar was in a drunken rage, and attacked me." Mikhail said. He turned around, and looked at this man who would hope to be a hero in this corrupt district. With a helpless expression, Mikhail turned towards the beggar, then back to the man with the sword. Then, the face of the victim he wore twisted into a sinister grin.
"How very noble of you, my heroic friend. Trying to fix a world thrown into permanent disrepair, and come out as some kind of paladin. Well, you'll be dragged down... You'll be dragged down one day. Anyway, it turns out that I have to get going anyway. I've got somewhere to be, don't you know. Cheers!" Mikhail stepped passed the man, and started towards his destination.
Thomas returned to the theatre from his walk. Checking his watch, he had around half an hour until his 'guests' would arrive. He had the Theatre's staff bring food and drink, and laid out on a trestle table in the cellar.
He sat down and filled out some credit notes - to the owners of the theatre, to the couriers, and one to his manservant, in thanks for his years of service.
The only thing left for him to do now was wait.
Anahera Douglas crumpled the note in disgust. Really? Did they honestly think she was that gullible to think that someone genuinely wanted her help? This was 1791, after all. Women were expected to stay home, do the housework, raise the boys until their fathers could shape them, and shape the girls into prim and proper women.
That wasn't to say Ana wouldn't go. In fact, she was certainly planning to do so. But she was going to prove people wrong. She smiled faintly as she considered shedding her dresses in favor of something that would cause an outrage among the men gathering. Pants.
"Who wears the pants now?" she asked the empty bookstore with a laugh. At the very least, this midnight meeting would provide her some entertainment.
The carriage came to an abrupt stop, and Manfred held on hard to the side, just to make sure he didn't fly forward.
Hans stepped out first, opening the door for the Prussian, who was not too far behind.
He looked out at King's Theatre.
"We are early...for that we must be thankful, but I pray, never again will we be held up by British ineffeciency.."
"Jawohl, Mein Herr, I'm sure they'll learn..."
"Well, let's move fast, whoever sent the message chose a good location for a meeting...it's like hiding in plain sight...."
Manfred adjusted his General's cap and straightened his trench coat, walking up the stairs leading into King's Theatre. He had his hand in his coat pocket, he did not know what was inside, and the soldier would not allow himself to be caught off gaurd.
Hans was close behind, and he was ready as well.
Manfred opened the door into the Theatre, and walked inside, where two men, two servants, came over to take their coats. This was customary in most of these English places, so the Prussian took off his jacket and handed it to the servants, who hung it with a few other jackets on the rack nearby.
Manfred tapped on the shoulder of one of the servants.
"Yes sir, is there anything you need, sir?"
Manfred spoke in his thickly accented voice, "Vhere would I find the cellar of this establishment?"
He pronounced the W as a V...he was still trying to get used to English pronunciations.
"You'll find the cellar down the left hall, two doors down. The stairs will be there. I hope that helps, sir."
Manfred nodded and waved for Hans to follow, and the two of them walked down the hall.
"How very noble of you, my heroic friend. Trying to fix a world thrown into permanent disrepair, and come out as some kind of paladin. Well, you'll be dragged down... You'll be dragged down one day. Anyway, it turns out that I have to get going anyway. I've got somewhere to be, don't you know. Cheers!"
Velic watched the man leave through narrowed eyes. His fingers went down to his flintlock pistol and he entertained a brief thought about shooting the blighter where he stood but ultimately decided against it.
There will be a day we'll settle this...He and I
Velic grabbed the man's arm and pulled him up to his feet. "There you are. What did he do to you?"
"Stole everything..."
"The church is looking for some cleaning help. You look like a strong lad, They could use you. Why don't head on down there and ask for a job. Tell them Velic sent you."
The beggar nodded shakily and walked off toward the large church, hardly believing his good luck.
Velic turned and continued walking toward the Theater which was quite close now.
Technically, David didn't get the note. Fortunately for him, someone who do did was enough of a coward to hire someone to go in his place. Ethics didn't really come into play in this situation, and the money was good, so he took the job. As he arrived at the King's Theatre, he started to wonder how such a vague note could scare a man so much. Perhaps he knew this TL, or perhaps he had become such a recluse that he would leave his home for any reason. Still, his employer specifically mentioned needing someone of his talent, so it was probably going to be somewhat dangerous. As he entered, he was stopped by one of the servants. "I'm sorry sir, but you are not on list of those invited. Please leave immediately." He told David, to which David pulled out the letter, clearly addressed to his employer, and one of his pistols in his other hand. "Do either of these change your mind?" He asked. "Right downstairs, sir." The servant replied, backing off, which prompted David to holster his gun. Entering the cellar, he stated. "So, you must be TL."
Kamarov glided towards his destination, the King's Theatre, with a certain smoothness. Despite his rough appearance and even rougher behavior, years of creeping and theft had given him a formidable amount of balance and swiftness. The Theatre wasn't far. Even though it faced away from the slum he was stalking, it was close enough that Mikhail could see many details on its architecture.
As he walked, he noticed the beggar's rescuer walking in the same direction. This wanker following me? Mikhail disregarded the probability, and checked the pristine pocket watch he had acquired just nights before. A little early, but he had nothing to do; he had already robbed the district dry.
When he reached the Theatre, a servant greeted him, and Mikhail simply showed him the note. The servant checked it and said, "You, sir? Never mind, follow me." Mikhail was led down some stairs in the back of the building, and could hear someone talking. He stepped into the room below.
Velic finally arrived at the theatre only to see the man who had been accousting the beggar earlier walk in.
Blast.
A servant asked to see his invitation and Velic quickly showed it to him. "Very good sir. The meeting will take place in the cellar in...five minutes time."
"Thank you."
Velic descended down into the cellar and looked around. There were a few other people in the cellar besides himself.
Thomas remained sat at his desk as he heard footsteps on the stairs - one of his guests had arrived.
"So, you must be TL" He stood up, and took a short bow. "Sir Thomas Leyton at your service. I see that you had no trouble gaining entry to this little meeting of ours - your abilities are impressive, and I have no doubt they we shall make good use of them.
Please, help yourself to food and drink - I shall get down to business as soon as the other invitees arrive - speaking of which, it seems we have another guest" Thomas noted the man descending the stairs - a dishevelled looking man, who wouldn't look out of place begging on the streets.
"And you, Sir, must be Mr. Kamarov. Sir Thomas Leyton, at your service. A pleasure to make your acquaintance".
Things were off to a better start than Thomas had imagined - he only hoped that his guests would be interested in hearing his proposition.
John Blake sipped his tea as he read the note.
At last, he thought. An awakening of minds, a gathering of protectors.
It was very easy for John Blake to guess what the purpose of the note was. Since he had experience hunting the nosferatu, others seeking to end the hell spawn had sought him out for the purpose of an alliance. While he preferred to work solo, John would not turn such an opportunity aside.
The nosferatu plague had been growing for quite some time. It had begun fifty years ago and Europe was gripped in panic. Then they went into hiding and the fear was gone, the West returning to normal. Finally, they had become strong enough that they could rear their heads without fear of even divine retribution and swarm into the villages of Austria and France.
John Blake lived to hunt the nosferatu, ever since they had stolen his parents. It was adventure and revenge that he lived for, the thrill of battle, the sense of justice.
John laid down the empty cup on the saucer, left his tip, and strode out of the tavern, his saber in its scabbard on one hip, his blessed stake tucked into his coat. King's Theater then.
------
He entered the cellar and beheld several men gathered together...just as he had anticipated.
"Greetings and salutations," John said cheerfully and as warmly as possible. His father had always taught him to make a good first impression. "Which of this company would be our esteemed host?"
((I'm starting to notice a pattern in how I'm entering RP's lately....))
Twenty Minutes Before Current Events
Dante was riding through the streets of London on his trusted horse, 'Segno', his large signature hat covering his face in shadows, something uncommon for this time of night, well, unless it was cold, and, in fact, it was. Around his neck, Dante wore a light brown scarf ((no one told me that it would be during Winter! I added a scarf for aesthetic purposes.)) that covered the lower portion of his face, and his entire neck, leaving only a small dark sliver for him to peer out of with his cool dark eyes. As he passed people on the street, he found himself drawing many eyes, it wasn't uncommon though, he was wearing all the right clothes to suggest just what they were thinking, yes he was a Highwayman, and yes he was actually in a city dressed like one. Many people stopped staring when his head ominously swiveled in their direction, many policemen stared him down like hateful dogs, some reaching for their weapons, whatever they may be; whether billy club, or officer's sword, but the more respectable policemen would handle their weapons out of caution, but then usher the people to stop staring, so as to let him be on his way and do whatever business he had in the city, seeing as even a Highwayman had the right to ride down the street, as long as he wasn't causing problems.
Dante moved his head in the direction of his destination, the King's Theatre, only a ten minute journey at the speed he was going, meaning he would most certainly not be late, in fact, he would be early, but he preferred it that way, especially when he received anonymous letters in the night. Ones that said "come alone" often didn't bode well, and suggested a trap of some sort, by some maleficent group, or sort, ones that had a grudge against him, or Highwaymen in general even.
Dante checked his weapons out of habit when thinking on traps, or threats in general. He had his heavy crossbow on his back, wrapped up, and a quiver of crossbow bolts on his thigh, and some emergency bolts in his coat. He had his knuckledusters in his trousers, and his guisarme was in his hands, draped lazily over his shoulder, it's head wrapped in sackcloth so as not to draw any more attention, or even unwanted violence, for most of his weapons were concealed anyways, so none knew that he was practically carrying an arsenal, though some could probably guess he was. Last, but most certainly not least he had his sword-revolver, the 'Purgatus', the only weapon he didn't have concealed, simply because he needed to have one weapon he could access quickly, as well as the fact that he liked keeping up the Highwayman appearance when in town, it made children 'ooouu' and 'aaaaahhh', as well as made women swoon, men praise, and old folks tell stories of the 'Robin Hood-esque' Highwaymen who did good for the poor, by taking from the rich, and how they approached men face-to-face to take what they wanted, instead of lying and deceiving like most. Even if most of those stories were quite fantastical, in some ways they were true as well, and Dante liked instilling that feeling in people.
Dante arrived at the King's Theatre, ten minutes early, just like he'd wanted, and he made his way into the building. Once inside he was accosted by two menservants, one trying to take his coat, the other his scarf, then his guisarme, then his hat, then they wanted his name, and the letter to prove that he was who he said he was, but at every turn he denied their attempts at serving him, especially when they asked for his hat. he simply silenced them and produced the note that they required, prompting them to guide him to the cellar, but he denied them even this, and he vacated their presence immediately, heading to the cellar.
Once he descended to the cellar he found himself more at ease, it wasn't a trap, but it was most certainly odd to see the settings of the place.
"I believe I was asked for," Dante said, letting go of his sword-revolver with his free hand, and using it to make a half hazard bow, something relatively difficult considering he was carrying a polearm. And with that Dante placed himself on a stool at the edge of the gathering, removing his gloves, a sign similar to removing ones' hat, only Dante didn't remove his hat often, so his gloves would have to suffice for the host.
((Sorry, had to cut the post short a bit, needed to get it up there, sorry if it seems hokey.))
Thomas was amazed that the next three guests all arrived within quick succession, with hardly any time to introduce himself properly.
"My, my! It seems we have quite the little assembly gathering! Messrs Velic, Blake, and Eligius, I am Sir Thomas Leyton, and I have called you all here to discuss a matter of mutual interest - but not before our other guests arrive. Please, help yourself to refreshments while you wait - i'm sure the other invitees shall not be long in their arrival"
He smiled to himself - things were already proceeding far better than he had imagined.
Manfred checked the nearby clock.
Never again will I be this late!! Nemats!
He took in a breath, and pushed open the door, striding in his arrogant Prussian way.
To his dismay, there were three others who'd come before, and he felt slightly embarrassed. To be late was to be rude, and it doesn't make for good impressions on Mlitary Officers.
He stood ramrod straight and looked at the others in the room.
"Which of you is TL?"
He had spoken with the booming and commanding voice of a Prussian Officer, he would get the info he wanted, no matter what.
Just as Thomas sensed the mood of the gathering was easing, someone burst in, shouting demands.
"Which of you is TL?"
"Damn your eyes, Sir! Have you no manners? How dare you burst into this meeting demanding answers! I am T.L, and I don't care for demands"
Thomas looked the man up and down - he was wearing a military uniform, and was obviously used to getting answers when he wanted them, in addition to ordering people about.
"My apologies, Sir. I am, in answer to your question, Sir Thomas Leyton" He turned to the other assembled gentlemen.
"And this, I believe, gentlemen, is Baron von Hempel. Please, make yourself at home. I will answer all your questions when everyone has arrived"
"Damn your eyes, Sir! Have you no manners? How dare you burst into this meeting demanding answers! I am T.L, and I don't care for demands."
Manfred's face registered his offense at the way TL spoke. But then the Englishmen observed who he was and apologized. Manfred lifted his chin higher in a show of superiorty as TL introduced him to the others in the room.
"Sir Thomas Leyton, I should've known. It's been awhile since we last encountered eachother, and the circumstances were much different indeed...."
A question formed in his mind.
"Leyton, just how many people were invited to this meeting?"
He had other questions, regarding the reason of the meeting, but he decided to be patient and wait for the opportune moment.
"I will answer all your questions when everyone has arrived"
"I apologize for asking, but how long will this meeting be? I have a creature that needs hunting this night."
Thomas was puzzled by von Hempel's statement.
"Forgive me, Sir - I was unaware that I had previously made your acquaintance. And, in answer to your other question, we should be expecting a few others - all of you have been summoned for a reason"
The other military officer there - the British Captain piped up while they were conversing.
"I apologize for asking, but how long will this meeting be? I have a creature that needs hunting this night."
"I am aware, Captain, of your need to rid London of the evil you visited upon the city, but I think you will agree - I think you will all agree, that what we are to discuss tonight is of far greater importance."
"I am aware, Captain, of your need to rid London of the evil you visited upon the city, but I think you will agree - I think you will all agree, that what we are to discuss tonight is of far greater importance."
John grinned. "By far greater importance I believe you mean the presence of many creatures that require hunting...correct?"
(OOC: I'm assuming this is in Haymarket?)
Thomas Arrowsmith frowned. He knew no-one with the initials of "TL" in England and he had scarcely arrived, so the chances of a trap were small; still... being sent anonymous messages was not exactly usual.
Had he been followed from France? It seemed unlikely, and the Assembly didn't have the kind of support necessary to track him; besides, he was too unimportant.
He finished his now-cold mug of coffee and sat back for a moment, glancing at the clock. There was a good few hours yet, and only one way to find out what the message was about. He got up, and paid with as little fuss as possible, and left. It was a good way to the King's Theatre, but he walked quickly, and couldn't afford expenses like a carriage.
As he made his way across Hyde Park, he thought a little on what the meeting could be about. It did seem odd that someone should send a message to him,specifically; and take such care as to see that it would arrive for him; of course, there were those who had the money and the position to avoid Protestantism, but they were few and far between, and undoubtedly would have chosen a rather more comprehensible manner of communicating with him.
At this point, he began pondering on the best way to Arundel and its advisability, and was caught up in this for some time. It was as he turned into Great Portland Street, then,that he realised he was wandering a little aimlessly, and was far from his goal. He set off at a quickened pace toward Haymarket, and smiled a little at the irony of his location.
He was tiring, now, however, and had slowed greatly in his movement, so that it was five minutes past midnight when he arrived at the King's Theatre, and rather pensively entered the cellar.
He smiled rather faintly at the candle-lit faces, and held up a piece of paper.
"I... ah, received a note. I hope I'm not too late."
(OOC: Yes, Darathy - this is in Haymarket.)
"By far greater importance I believe you mean the presence of many creatures that require hunting...correct?"
"Very astute, Mr. Blake - but I would rather discuss it when everyone has arrived."
As he finished his sentence, he noticed a rather haggard figure enter quietly, before smiling and holding up his 'invitation'.
"I... ah, received a note. I hope I'm not too late."
"Ah! Bienvenue! No, you are not at all late, Sir! Just in time, in fact"
He looked the man up and down in the candlelight - here was a man that had the distinct look of one who wished to avoid attracting attention.
"I am Sir Thomas Leyton, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, help yourself to food and drink - you look like you could do with some refreshment - we're almost ready to begin, I think, but for the arrival of another guest"
Almost everyone was here now. Soon, he could begin, and answer the torrent of questions those assembled no doubt had for him.
Ana stalked into the King's Theatre, much like a predator stalking its prey. She had opted to wear a dress, deciding that wearing men's clothes to a meeting such as this would surely get her started on the wrong foot. Nevertheless, the dress she had chosen left her legs free range of movement and her sais were strapped to her back. And if anyone dared second guess her skill with her sais, she always had her telepathy and telekinesis as tools to make the men take her seriously.
Because of her telepathy, Ana could sense the gathering minds in the cellar. She used this sense as a beacon to lead her to the stairs. She descended lightly and entered the cellar, glancing briefly at each man there. Her eyes found Thomas Leyton last and she spent a good seven seconds staring at him before she spoke.
"T. L." she said bluntly. It wasn't a question; she knew he was the one who had organized this little meeting. She stalked forward until she was standing directly in front of him. "I hardly think it needs saying that your request for my presence here is a little suspicious."
She bent over to stare directly into his eyes, her own brown eyes flashing with a trace of anger. Then, there was a flicker of surprise as she seemed to find something in his eyes that she did not expect. She said, "There are few who truly know of me. How did you come to be one of them?"
"I am Sir Thomas Leyton, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, help yourself to food and drink - you look like you could do with some refreshment - we're almost ready to begin, I think, but for the arrival of another guest"
Thomas came further into the room, and sat down a little apart and a little nervously still, though he had relaxed a little since his welcome.
"You are most kind, Sir Thomas, thank you."
He turned to his fellow guests, and smiled nervously again.
"My name is Thomas Arrowsmith. Until a few days ago, I was an assistant curate at l'Église Saint-Sulpice."
Thomas was pleased that he had managed to make Mr. Arrowsmith feel at ease - it must have been hard for him - forced to flee from his adoptive homeland, because of his refusal to submit to the state's demands.
Shortly afterwards, a woman entered the cellar, quite gracefully, before staring at Leyton.
"T.L"
He took a short bow, before greeting her.
"Ah! Miss Doug..." She cut him off before he could finish.
"I hardly think it needs saying that your request for my presence here is a little suspicious."
"That it may be, Madam, but I can assure you, I can explain everything to all of you"
She leant towards him, and her eyes had a fierce look about them - she was definately the right person.
"There are few who truly know of me. How did you come to be one of them?"
"I happen to be an acquaintance with The Lord Grenville, the last Home Secretary - and after I explained my intentions, he informed me of your... remarkable abilities, and gave me details should I desired to contact you.
Which, Madam, as you can see, I have done. I apologise if I have caused you offence in any way, but it was necessary to bring you here"
He was sweating. He didn't usually sweat. He looked around at everyone assembled.
"Well, I... uh... think that's everyone. Why don't we all sit down and we can discuss business?"
"Well, I... uh... think that's everyone. Why don't we all sit down and we can discuss business?"
Velic leaned against one of the walls and stared out the window. "Might I presume that our business has something to do with the so called "blood Plauge" that is sweeping through London?"
Velic's eyes were constantly watching the sky.
"Of course, I do wonder how you knew that it was I who brought these...creatures to London. And if you know that I brought them, then you know I had no choice but to retreat from the blighters."
"I apologise if I have caused you offence in any way, but it was necessary to bring you here."
Ana was now convinced her initial impression of this meeting was incorrect and she settled down. Instead of boiling inside from anger, she was now quite curious. Lord Grenville had always been one of her strongest supporters. While some of the men who knew of her sought to keep her locked away, Lord Grenville had been the most vocal in supporting what he called her "right to a normal life." Not that anything about her life was normal, but that was hardly the point.
"I have misjudged you, Sir Thomas," she said, taking a seat to his right. "Forgive me." And when he asked everyone to be seated, she went on, "So tell us, why have you called for our presence here?"
There was a faint glimmer of amusement in her eyes; she knew damned well why they were there. It was very nearly all Leyton could think about, and she was a telepath after all. But still, it was impolite to spill the news if you weren't the one doing the inviting, and so Ana asked politely, allowing Leyton his time in the spotlight.
But someone else spoke first, admitting his own guilt in bringing the cause of the 'Blood Plague' to London. Ana scowled at him.
"You speak as though the 'Blood Plague' is London's only supernatural problem," she said. "And you put words in Sir Thomas' mouth. Perhaps we ought to let him speak, yes?"
Thomas leaned forward, looking a little puzzled.
"Er, creatures? Blood plague? Is there some kind of infection on the loose?"
As soon as the meeting was called to some semblance of order, Captain Velic began asking questions.
Before Leyton had chance to answer properly, Miss Douglas reprimanded the man for interrupting, and Mr. Arrowsmith seemed most concerned at reports of an infection.
"This 'Blood Plague' is part of the reason I have brought you here - and it's reach is far greater than London. It is being reported in France, Austria, The German States, and now, I've been informed, it is even being diagnosed as far afield as Anatolia."
He paused momentarily, to this information to sink in.
"The cause of the plague is still undetermined - many physicians have tried to diagnose it in the past - most notably, the late Gerart van Sweiten, who was ordered to examine this disease on the orders of the Empress of Austria herself. That was nearly 40 years ago.
His formal reports were never published - he claimed there was no cause for alarm. His unofficial report, however, postulated that it is not a plague at all - rather, he theorised that it was some form of disease, contracted from a pair of wounds found on a sufferer's neck. He believed that they were bite marks of some form"
He stopped for a moment, for the inevitable questions that his guests would have for him.
"You speak as though the 'Blood Plague' is London's only supernatural problem. And you put words in Sir Thomas' mouth. Perhaps we ought to let him speak, yes?"
"To the best of my knowledge it is the only problem that needs immediate attention as far as I know. Now kindly be silent."
"His formal reports were never published - he claimed there was no cause for alarm. His unofficial report, however, postulated that it is not a plague at all - rather, he theorised that it was some form of disease, contracted from a pair of wounds found on a sufferer's neck. He believed that they were bite marks of some form"
Velic thought on the words for a moment.
"What do you suggest we do then?"
"To the best of my knowledge it is the only problem that needs immediate attention as far as I know. Now kindly be silent."
Now kindly be silent? Ana's eyes narrowed. Nothing said "Shut up, Woman," quite like "Now kindly be silent." The arrogant fool was looking down on her. Of course, it wasn't that she expected anything different from the men of 1791, but to be put down like that mere seconds after getting a refreshing bit of respect from Sir Thomas Leyton was almost unbearable.
There would be no getting around it. Ana Douglas made an instant decision that she did not like Captain Velic, and it would take a lot of effort to change her mind.
"Then the best of your knowledge is not good enough," she told him icily. And before he could reply, Leyton began his little tale of Gerart van Sweiten and the Empress of Austria. During this bit, Ana leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. At the suggestion of bite marks, she rolled her eyes, entirely unimpressed.
Then, from the 'Captain', "What do you suggest we do then?"
Ana almost laughed out loud. Almost. Instead, she rolled her eyes yet again. What a soldier! To hear 'bite marks' and think 'FIGHT'. But she was done insulting him for now. She'd let Leyton reprimand him this time. Surely Leyton had more explanation than 'bite marks' to offer or he'd not have brought them all together here.
"Then the best of your knowledge is not good enough."
"Of course it isn't. I know nothing about this threat. In fact I know nothing about the supernatural at all. I'm most likely the one here who knows the least about all of this. I simply wish to find out more about this threat and how to best fight it."
It wasn't right of me to say that to her. She obviously knows quite a bit more about this threat then I do. I feel like a fool.
"Blood Plague? I can see why my employer hired me to go in his place." David commented. Notice some hostile looks, he added. "If someone you requested is enough of a coward to hire a freelance mercenary in his stead, you're probably better off with the mercenary. You can trust me, though. I don't even consider other offers when I'm on a job. It pays be loyal."
The Baron sat quietly at the table, his fists clenched, as he watched them bicker back and forth. He'd seen similar situations, with officers who were often divided and did not display confidence in the way they handled themselves, choosing to argue instead of getting the job done. He wasn't saying that these people were not capable of handling the 'Blood Plague,' but rather, they weren't going to get anything done this way.
If this was democracy, then there was a reason he was loyal to a monarch.
Hans was seated next to him, and like Manfred, was very quiet, observing the conversation going on.
Something came to Manfred's mind.
He looked to Hans, "Do you have any information on Sweiter...I recall meeting him at an Embassy Dinner in Vienna, but that was back in my days as an OberLeutnant, a while ago."
"Sir, Sweiter's name practically disappeared in 1787. Even his reported files on the Blood Plague disappeared, only the Austrians and several select individuals, including those in this room, know exactly what they were."
"Sweiter was a fool, no doubt of that...hopefully we have none such fools here..."
The Prussian took a sip of the wine in his glass and sat it down. He then stood.
The 'Captain Velic' spoke.
"Of course it isn't. I know nothing about this threat. In fact I know nothing about the supernatural at all. I'm most likely the one here who knows the least about all of this. I simply wish to find out more about this threat and how to best fight it."
"Captain, if you do not know much on this 'supernatural' incident, then I suggest you refrain from judging it. Only a few of us even understand these creatures to a limited extent. I do not like these creatures either, but I have my own reasons, my own mission. So, I do applaud the idea of fighting, but something every soldier knows, is to know your enemy. If you do not know what they are or how they fight, how can you possibly win?"
After looking at the Captain, Manfred moved his gaze over to the young lady.
"Fraulein Douglas, you find something humorous in the Captain's statement. Do you have any information that may help us in this...endeavor our host suggests."
"Ms... err... oh, dear; I didn't catch your names, I am... ah, je me suis désolé Ms... but perhaps you, er, and the Captain" - Thomas glanced at Velic - "ah, might... err..."
Here, Thomas stopped and looked a little confused, turning his hand in the air as if trying to conjure it from the ether.
"Alors! Perhaps you and the Captain might put aside your differences. This meeting is not a simple council, I think, and if we are to be asked to work together on this matter, we should make effort not to... eh, quarrel, no? domus divisa contra se..."
He trailed off, and turned to Sir Thomas quizzically.
"Sir Thomas, your pardon, but I... do not fully comprehend what you mean, I think. Are you trying to tell us there is an outbreak of vampirism? Surely it is just a myth, folklore..."
"Please, Captain Velic, and Ms. Douglas! I can not have the two of you arguing every point with each other - I have promised you an explanation, but it is most difficult when one is constantly being interrupted by... bickering"
Mr. Smith began speaking, about his payment, and how he could not take on another job while previously engaged.
"I can assure you, Mr. Smith, that you will be rewarded most handsomely, in addition to your previous contract - in fact, your employer is quite happy for you to provide your services to this... enterprise"
The Baron was conversing with his manservant - a violation of the invitation on the Baron's part, but further enmity would only be detrimental to an already volatile meeting. He overheard a few words between the two.
"Sweiter was a fool..."
"I can assure you, Baron, that van Sweiten possessed a far greater intellect than you give him credit for - he omitted the truth about the 'plague' because he wished to avoid sparking mass hysteria"
Mr. Arrowsmith had remained quiet throughout the altercation, before he began speaking to Ms. Douglas and Captain Velic. Afterwards, he turned to look at Leyton.
"Sir Thomas, your pardon, but I... do not fully comprehend what you mean, I think. Are you trying to tell us there is an outbreak of vampirism? Surely it is just a myth, folklore..."
"I see you have heard of it before, Mr. Arrowsmith. Yes, 'Vampirism', as it's known among the masses, is, I believe, the cause of this plague. And, if the reports and journals I have read are to be believed, it is very real indeed."
"I see you have heard of it before, Mr. Arrowsmith. Yes, 'Vampirism', as it's known among the masses, is, I believe, the cause of this plague. And, if the reports and journals I have read are to be believed, it is very real indeed."
Velic thought on that for a moment before deciding to add his own findings to the discussion.
"This is quite hard to believe...but the amount of evidence that points toward your conclusion is far too great to ignore. I think I should add what I've found out about these creatures to the discussion. They are very agile, I saw one able to scale a large wall in very short order, they seem to be able to shrug off small firearm blasts as if they're nothing and the big blasts seem to annoy them slightly but thats it. I haven't been able to test a sword or rapier against them yet. And they are very smart."
"I see you have heard of it before, Mr. Arrowsmith. Yes, 'Vampirism', as it's known among the masses, is, I believe, the cause of this plague. And, if the reports and journals I have read are to be believed, it is very real indeed."
Thomas nodded.
"Indeed I have heard of it. Monsieur Calmet wrote an interesting, but inconclusive treatise on the subject.
But if these... reports are to be believed, Sir Thomas, I must ask what use you have for a priest? It is not, I believe, possession by demon, so I cannot exorcise the afflicted. I am not, as you see, trained in combat; to say the least, I find my role puzzling, Sir Thomas."
"Indeed I have heard of it. Monsieur Calmet wrote an interesting, but inconclusive treatise on the subject.
But if these... reports are to be believed, Sir Thomas, I must ask what use you have for a priest? It is not, I believe, possession by demon, so I cannot exorcise the afflicted. I am not, as you see, trained in combat; to say the least, I find my role puzzling, Sir Thomas."
"It is my belief that we shall need more than skill with a blade to overcome these beasts, Mr Arrowsmith.
These are unholy creatures that we fight - it has often been postulated that these creatures may have some weakness against Apotropes and religious sacrement.
Furthermore, it is quite possible that it will be necessary to perform an exhumation - and I would feel better if it were done in the presence of a Clergyman.
And finally, it may sound foolish, but I would feel safer if we had someone to tend to our spiritual wellbeing"
Captain Velic had looked puzzled while Leyton had explained about the Vampires, before finally speaking.
"This is quite hard to believe...but the amount of evidence that points toward your conclusion is far too great to ignore. I think I should add what I've found out about these creatures to the discussion. They are very agile, I saw one able to scale a large wall in very short order, they seem to be able to shrug off small firearm blasts as if they're nothing and the big blasts seem to annoy them slightly but thats it. I haven't been able to test a sword or rapier against them yet. And they are very smart."
"Of course they are smart, Captain. The afflicted, once deceased, enter some form of 'undeath'. They retain their consciousness, and many of their physical abilities improve remarkably - allowing them to sustain wounds that you or I could not withstand. We are fortunate that the disease only causes death in a minority of cases, but the resulting beings are quite dangerous"
"I can assure you, Baron, that van Sweiten possessed a far greater intellect than you give him credit for - he omitted the truth about the 'plague' because he wished to avoid sparking mass hysteria."
Manfred made eye contact with Leyton.
"Oh, I am sure his intellect is beyond most of us, and perhaps he did halt the possibility of mass hystery. But he knew what these...'vampires' were, he knew what they could do. By lying to the people of Europe...to the world for that matter, we are now completely off-gaurd. If he had told everyone the truth on the matter, then we could've organized and begin the mass-extermination of these creatures. Many nations for one cause. Now we're...divided, they can just cause dissension and we would be unable to stop it until too late."
He tapped Hans on the shoulder and nodded toward the door, telling his servant that his services would no longer be required for the rest of the meeting.
"I wish to apologize for the violation of the secrecy of the meeting, but we can trust Hans, his family has proven themselves extremely loyal over the years. He'll gaurd the door, which is safe from what we are speaking."
"Of course they are smart, Captain. The afflicted, once deceased, enter some form of 'undeath'. They retain their consciousness, and many of their physical abilities improve remarkably - allowing them to sustain wounds that you or I could not withstand. We are fortunate that the disease only causes death in a minority of cases, but the resulting beings are quite dangerous"
"Leyton, Captain Velic, we are dealing with more then just the afflicted, they are not only some sort of...undead. We're not dealing with some sort of walking mort, which is entirely different..."
He took his diary of discoveries out of his jacket pocket.
"I have investigated them, they have already developed civilization, a religion, a code of command, evn their own language. They continue their advance at a rapid pace. I fear that their reason for this is none other then a form of domination in our world...I have recorded it."
He tossed his diary onto the center of the table.
"That book contains all the information I have gathered in the past few years, I even referenced some of it from Sweiten's writings...before their destruction by a Viennese Church..."
"Of course they are smart, Captain. The afflicted, once deceased, enter some form of 'undeath'. They retain their consciousness, and many of their physical abilities improve remarkably - allowing them to sustain wounds that you or I could not withstand. We are fortunate that the disease only causes death in a minority of cases, but the resulting beings are quite dangerous"
Does that mean that they no longer feel pain? If so then they are very dangerous foes.
"First of all, I would like to apologize to Ms. Douglas for my rude behavior earlier. What I said was unacceptable and were my wife still alive she would have smacked me across the face and she would have been totally justified in doing so. I assume that you are much more well versed in this sort of thing then I am and I do apologize for my behavior."
Velic then turned his mind back to the meeting at hand.
"Is it possible to somehow reverse this form of undeath? Anyway to cure the infected so that they may rest in peace? Or is killing them the only viable option?"
"If I understand vampires correctly, it is only reversible before they taste first blood. And even then, doing so requires killing another vampire. If we're fighting vampires, we're all going to have to get our hands dirty, no matter what." David explained, trying not to speak out of turn.
"If I understand vampires correctly, it is only reversible before they taste first blood. And even then, doing so requires killing another vampire. If we're fighting vampires, we're all going to have to get our hands dirty, no matter what."
John nodded and finally broke his silence. "Indeed...which is why I assume you invited me to this gathering Sir Thomas?"
The Baron levelled his gaze at Leyton, before beginning his tirade.
"Oh, I am sure his intellect is beyond most of us, and perhaps he did halt the possibility of mass hystery. But he knew what these...'vampires' were, he knew what they could do. By lying to the people of Europe...to the world for that matter, we are now completely off-gaurd. If he had told everyone the truth on the matter, then we could've organized and begin the mass-extermination of these creatures. Many nations for one cause. Now we're...divided, they can just cause dissension and we would be unable to stop it until too late."
As the Baron continued blustering, Leyton reached inside his jacket pocket, and pulled out his Meerschaum and a small pouch of tobacco. He continued to listen to the Baron as he packed his pipe with the tobacco. After carefully lighting it, he took several short puffs, before replying to the Baron.
"If you are going to apportion blame, Baron, then it should be applied equally to the Prussian Court at Sanssouci, for it was not van Sweiten's place to release the information. The Empress of Austria shared this information with King Frederick, and they both decided that secrecy was the best option at the time"
There was something else about apologising for bringing an extra person to the meeting, and apparent findings about a culture amongst these creatures - backed up the rather hefty book the Baron deposited on the table.
"Thank you for this, Baron. I shall look at it in great detail shortly"
Captain Velic soon began to speak.
"Is it possible to somehow reverse this form of undeath? Anyway to cure the infected so that they may rest in peace? Or is killing them the only viable option?"
"It is not possible to reverse this undeath. As Mr. Smith rightly states, we can only prevent it - the only way to stop these creatures permanently is to destroy either their heart or brain - that, I believe, will destroy them for good."
His attention was diverted by Mr. Blake, who had thus far done his best to keep quiet throughout the meeting.
"Indeed...which is why I assume you invited me to this gathering Sir Thomas?"
"That is correct, Mr. Blake - that is why you are all here, although it will require us to leave the country in pursuit of these creatures"
He sat back down, and took some more of his pipe, pleased with the outcome of the meeting so far.
After Velic apologized to her, Ana had fallen entirely silent. It wasn't that she had nothing to add; it's just that in spite of her little spat with Velic, she wasn't inclined to argue. And there was a lot of argument, name dropping, and general rambling going on. Ana simply did not see fit to speak.
Then, Leyton sat down after a few exchanges of words with the others in the room, seeming rather pleased with himself and with this meeting. For her part, Ana could not see why. From her point of view, this meeting was a mess of puffed up male egos, random facts about vampires, and a vague attempt at explaining a potential weakness the creatures might have.
"You haven't given us much information to go on," she said finally in the pause that followed. "Basically, you've told us you think that destroying their heart or their brain will destroy them. Beyond that, you have not detailed anything on how to accomplish this, or where you think we ought to start in this... quest."
She sighed. "I am sorry, Sir Thomas, but it seems you have allowed your guests to interrupt your explanations. If this is not the case, if you truly do not have a fair understanding of exactly what it is you are asking us to do, then I am afraid I cannot help you. However, if you are merely being interrupted, please explain yourself quickly. I am well aware of the vampire threat and if you have a logical plan to follow, I will not leave until it is accomplished."
"I am sorry, Sir Thomas, but it seems you have allowed your guests to interrupt your explanations. If this is not the case, if you truly do not have a fair understanding of exactly what it is you are asking us to do, then I am afraid I cannot help you. However, if you are merely being interrupted, please explain yourself quickly. I am well aware of the vampire threat and if you have a logical plan to follow, I will not leave until it is accomplished."
The Baron heard this, and then abruptly sat down. She did have a point, and he imagined that the others in the room had a similar point-of-view. This meeting was wasting enough time, Manfred was not helping it.
It was time to sit, and listen to what Sir Thomas Leyton had to say, then they could move to strike these 'vampires.'
(sorry I took so long to get a reply - let's hope there's still some life left here ;))
After conversing with the Baron, Ms. Douglas, looking puzzled, began to speak.
"You haven't given us much information to go on,"
"I have given you as much information as I have at my disposal, Ms. Douglas. My hope here was to bring together all of our knowledge - I had hoped that where one of us might have gaps in our information, another of us could fill those gaps, to give us a complete understanding of these creatures."
"Basically, you've told us you think that destroying their heart or their brain will destroy them. Beyond that, you have not detailed anything on how to accomplish this, or where you think we ought to start in this... quest."
"I am certain that destroying either of those two centers will destroy them - every living creature requires both of them to function - why should the living dead be any different? And I know exactly where we must travel - Vienna"