Nebb 06-12-2009 04:29 AM<br/>Ari'eil watched in anticipation as the proceedings began, a knot started to form in the center of her being. She brushed it off as anxiety since she'd never been allowed to attend such pleasantries whilst in service of the Order. The reason for this wasn't as much to do with her being a social outcast, as it was the fact that rumours soon followed her once she stayed in one place for too long. When one specialized in killing one's own kind, it wasn't a skill you wanted other kindred to know about.<br/><br/>The Ordo Dracul made use of the Azerkatil only when in dire need, and usually as a last resort. These matters were usually of utmost importance to the ruling Prince in maintaining the law and order over the area he controlled. Even though their true skill lay in disposing of kindred, their vampire destroying abilities happened to also be just as effect against Lycanâ€™s and Mages too, which meant their services were almost always in demand somewhere or other. This usually meant that the Ordo Dracul usually enjoyed a certain amount of favour from the ruling Prince, even if it was entirely unspoken. The Order never abused such favours either, but now and then they did ask for a small token of gratitude in return. These tokens were well in the power of the Prince to give and usually entailed the right to own a newly located Wyrm's nest, something most Princes, and many others, cared little for.<br/><br/>Ari'eil watched as various kindred stepped forward and explained their reason for wanting to rule Solace. Their speeches were grand and Ari'eil was impressed with the way words seemed to flow off their lips, much like the newcomer. But where Malachi's suave manner seemed to hint at real power, their words seemed to lack substance and strength. Sitting in a nook in the outer wall, swinging her legs back and forth in a "I'm bored with the world" manner, a passing glance from Master Loren almost made Ari'eil jump. When it was Malachi's turn to talk, she breathed out a sigh of relief. "This will be fun. Malachi would make them squirm and dance for sure!" she thought to herself. But Malachi had other plans. The feeling in the pit of her stomach returned again, this time stronger, but it wasn't until Malachi uttered the fact that he had a "gut feeling" about someone still needing to appear, that she knew what that feeling in the pit of her being meant. Her beast was waiting in anticipation, as if it knew something she didn't. But it didn't struggle. As Enoch appeared, mixed emotions surfaced in her mind: "That's why I never felt threatened...why I never reacted... I was told you were dead.... " She gave Master Loren a hard stare, but the man's face remained blank. Either he always knew Enoch was alive, or he did a good job of hiding his surprise. Neither would surprise her.<br/><br/>"Where is Memnoch?" She wondered. "He must be outside, formalities such as these, bored him as much as it did me." She paid little attention to what the Prince was saying, thinking only about a chance to speak to Memnoch again. Even though their first meeting hadn't faired well, she felt a strange affection towards him. Maybe it was because, like her, he felt that combat was the only true test of another, or oneself for that matter. She was deep in thought when Enoch told his audience that Memnoch has been killed, and the sudden realization resulted in an audible cry escaping her throat. It was soft, but it was there. A touch of sadness overcame her. â€œTo dance the dance, and brush 'gainst death.â€ she thought to herself reciting a poem she once heard.<br/><br/>In a somber mood now Ariâ€™eil watched as Malachi introduced himself and noted the reaction by the Elders as the Prince asked advice from the newcomer, rather than his own Council members. Malachi winked at her as he made his speech to the Prince, and she couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face. Nobody could deny that fact he could charm the pants off pretty much anyone, once he put his mind to; even the Prince seemed taken with him. "They are a lot a like, the Prince and Malachi and perhaps that was what the Council fears; for together they would not need the Council."<br/><br/>Malachi continued to talk about empires and dynasties, but only once he mentioned guerrilla tactics did she look up, then quickly averted her eyes to the ground as he looked in her direction. Ari'eil watched as those who voiced there objections in the newcomer and distrust, were gathered and forced onto submission. As the spectacle unfolded, the little that remained of the smile on her face, faded. As two of the Prince's guards headed towards Master Loren, Ari'eil instinctively rose poised for action. But Malachi shot her a look that told her that any action now would not prudent. It took all of her will to control herself as she watched a mass of guards gather the Council members and place them with the others. The Ordo Draculâ€™s Elder was not spared. Master Loren diverted his eyes downwards towards the symbol of the dragon beneath his feet and placed two of his rings onto the symbol and shot Ariâ€™eil a quick look. He offered no resistance as the guards ushered him out. His peers were kicking and screaming as they were dragged off. The display of control by the Order Master was unsettling. Conflicted Ari'eil could only stand there watching. â€œI am no strategist, but is this the best way...â€<br/><br/>Ari'eil alone remained standing; it seemed the Prince had no reason to dispose of her yet. Malachi's attempted to persuade the Prince that she remain his guide, fell on deaf ears. Thankful to Malachi as she was, she knew the Prince would have a use for her, especially now since there would be bitterness about todays events and the inevitable retaliation would need quelling. The fact that Memnoch was no longer around would mean the Prince would need watch his back more often than not. For a moment a feeling of uncertainty overcame her as she wondered what kind of suicide mission the Prince might throw her into. She fingered the tip of the blade Memnoch had handed her, a gift from the Prince, and it dawned on her that a man like Memnoch would not blindly follow just anyone. That realization was almost immediately followed by another. Memnoch had been more important that she initially understood. He would be sorely missed and Ariâ€™eil understood why Enoch was upset.<br/><br/>"Why wouldn't he be upset! Every vampire in the city should be revolted that the Prince's most trusted bodyguard, companion and one of the city's most powerful vampires, was slain by mere humans. Since when do hunters get killed by their food. It disturbs the natural balance of things. The Prince was right, things have to change..." A smile again appeared on her face as she knew that right there and then, change was taking place... and she was in the thick of it. Closing her eyes, the sounds of screams and despair filled the room and the words of her Sire came crashing back: "Hunt the hunter. Kill the killer." These mortals were stepping into her territory, and if they got the slip on a man like Memnoch, she'd have to use every ounce of her skill to ensure that they were the one's who met their maker.<br/><br/>Quote:<br/>"Find something to do."<br/>The Prince left the room with Malachi following in close suit. Ari'eil headed towards where Master Loren had left two blue gem rings. Picking it up, she made out both the ring designs; a scarab and the eye of Ra. These rings were the meant only for the leader of the Order. Pocketing them, she headed straight out the door and for the Order. Making sure she wasnâ€™t followed, she waited in the alleyway until she was approached. It was another Order member , not an Elder, but definitely one she knew was progressing up the ladder. She removed the rings from a small silk pouch and handed them to the kindred. He replied somberly, the emotion evident in his voice: â€œIâ€™ll notify the Order.â€ As he was about to turn to leave, Ari'eil stopped him: â€œI need access to the crucible."<br/><br/>A look of anger crossed his face, but almost immediately it was replaced with a look of sadness again: â€œI guess there is no reason you cannot. I will arrange for someone to guide you.â€<br/><br/>â€œThank you.â€ She bowed slightly.<br/><br/>Nebb 06-12-2009 03:11 PM<br/>Charlie Kovac watched at how easily Agent Ty seemed to handle his newly acquired Bullpup. Lifting up his own MP5 from the table, the metal grip felt foreign in his hands. Picking up a magazine, he flicked the switch to position â€˜0â€™ and clipped the cartridge into the receiving chamber, staring at it for a moment. â€œSomething was notâ€¦â€<br/><br/>Subconsciously and almost without thinking, he locked the cocking handle into the special slot in the rear position, leaving the bolt in the open position and no cartridge in the chamber, and turned the safety off. His training told him that in order for the MP5 to fire, all he needed to do was simply release the cocking handle from its notch and pull the trigger. The major advantage of the bolt being in this position was that it allowed the MP5 larger amounts of sustained fire, without the issues like the barrel overheating and the resulting cook-off problems. The only thing that was sacrificed was improved accuracy over medium to long distances. Charlie grabbed another two extra clips, as a grin formed on his face: â€œThey sure do train us to do this kind of stuff in our sleepâ€¦â€ he thought to himself as he fitted a cartridge to the chamber, shouldered the MP5 and kitted up.<br/><br/>As Ty took what looked like short sword off a hook on the wall Charlie immediately sensed something important about the blade. He could see strands of Prime weaved into the sword and the runes seemed to slide over the blade. To anyone else, it just looked like a normal short sword. â€œHmmmâ€¦â€<br/><br/>Charlie followed the Lieutenant to the northern section of the compound, and he did so lugging a rucksack, a MP5, a side arm, various flash bangs and grenades, and an array of other equipment, through various passageways. It dawned on him that he must look like an idiot and that if he had to lug all this equipment into a close quarters combat environment, that it would severely hamper his ability to get up close and personal. The passageways were narrow, and the windows closed, so it was no surprise that it was incredibly hot and humid there. It made sense that the windows and doors were rarely opened, but with the sweat was already running down his back, his suit damp and the heat from the added balaclava, his combat goggles were starting to fog up.<br/><br/>â€œAll this armour, all this equipment! How is a man supposed to move like a fighter when his covered in all this crap?â€ The thought made Charlie come to a dead stop. In his frustration and heat, something dawned on him: â€œWhy was moving like a fighter so important to meâ€¦?â€ He played the thought over in his mind for a moment, but there was no revelation. â€œPull your shit together man.â€ he told himself. He picked up the pace and caught up to the Lieutenant. As they neared the northern part of the building the hairs on the back of Charlieâ€™s neck stood on end. Again he sensed the flow of Prime, but this time he couldnâ€™t pinpoint its location.<br/><br/>â€œLieutenant, Iâ€™m picking up some kind of reading. I believe it may be class-M ENE related activity. Itâ€™s not a threat, but a signature of sorts, perhaps from having done something in this area. Let me take the lead.â€