Nocturne (IC/See OOC for Sign-Ups)

[Nitom]

Norwich, East Anglia
Kegan Kruvok

Kegan listened to her question and gave it a moment before he would speak. "Well, my advisors come from the capital of Nocturne, Valeria. They are vampires like myself. The few Valerian Guards that I brought with me also come from the capital, but they are human." Kegan would pause for a moment and take a sip of his blood wine. "The Shadow House Guards come from Veiern, a province of Nocturne. The majority of the other men come from the outer regions of Nocturne and regions outside, but still nearby. Then we have the Lycans. The Lycans come from the regions to the north and west of Nocturne. We don't have many of them, due to the fact that Lycans and vampires have hated each other for a very long time, but I myself do not hate them. If treated right and given even the smallest respect, they can become strong allies."

Kegan signaled to one of his Lycan commanders. "Would you like to see what a Lycan is?" Kegan asked as the Lycan approached. The man was of slightly less than average height, but build strong and had the face of a true veteran. He had a few scars of his face, but still seemed rather young. Despite this, his eyes almost screamed experience and knowledge of battle.

[Ormata]

Emissary Giorsail Bochanan
Norwich, East Anglia

"Would you like to see what a Lycan is?"

“Quite.” The man looked interesting, most definitely; he was too young to be a professional soldier. Well, too young to be a professional Sidhe soldier. His eyes, though, his eyes were the kind that simply glared and said that he’d seen a bit too much. Giorsail had seen such eyes perhaps three times before, once from a drunkard who lived in a bottle, once from an insane berserker from the east, and once against from a Sidhe soldier. All three of those eyes had spoken about battles she never wanted to see.

It was curious that he had so many mercenaries. A mercenary army. Interesting. Apparently the man’s retinue had been someone blown to hell during his time elsewhere. Apparently all he had was...money, most likely. Odd he hadn’t bought a permanent retinue, though. Perhaps that was the Lycans.

[Max Empire]

Commander Tanit Barca
Southern Hispania
833 (150 years after Max's flight)

Looking over the empty fields filled Tanit with pride. Just a couple of weeks ago, her group was a lose coalition of Carthaginian Soldiers, desert mercenaries, war captives, servants and all their families. Now they were on the frontiers, clearing land for farming and creating industries from scratch. They had spent the last few day clearing the forest from the area for the wood and to open it up for farming. Next on her list was prospecting in the nearby hills for minerals and metals. Hamlets could also be established further up the valley and south along the coast towards the pillars. So many opportunities just waiting for her to seize.

The Faceless One's Great Tower
Mediterranean, South of Sicily, On the Supremacy
833 (150 years after Max's flight)

The Faceless One sat on a chair the edge of a table with several other commanders around it. Everybody in the room at the top of the tower looked at their Overlord nervously. He was the edge, his insanity reaching a climax. The clattering of his armor as he convulsed and shook, alternating between violently quaking and trembling ever so slightly. He examined the battle plans his generals had lain in front of him.

"So what will you do if you can't break through the gap?", The Iron suit said as he pointed at an area on the map. "What if this force fails at that task? You need everything to work as planned for this to work.", the Metallic voice echoed through the massive helm, with the sound of the shaking and quaking the figure was doing.

"You're giving the enemy time to react!", The Faceless One slammed its massive fist onto the table as it's shaking intensified. "Is this the best you can do?", It yelled out as it threw one of the people around the table flying across the room with a strong shove. "If only Tanit were here. She'd show you how to deal with this efficiently. No. You're going to follow our plan. Watch and learn.", Using it's giant shaky metallic hands to guide the assembled commanders on what to do on the map, The Faceless One reassembled the entire plan, yelling, screaming and barking out new commands before send the commanders out to begin the assault on the city.

[Nitom]

Norwich, Easr Anglia
Kegan Kruvok

Kegan nodded at the Lycan as he took the final steps towards their table. "Strokov, would you or one of your men be so kind as to show our guest here what a Lycan looks like? She has never seen one." Kegan asked in a polite tone. Strokov would nod, "Certainly, my lord. It would be an honor." The Lycan would then step back a few feet. The Death Dealer advisors were noticbly unhappy with what Kegan was doing, but they surely knew he had his reasons.

A few moments would pass before the short man that stood in front of them began to transform. His bones began to shift and change and his skin grew dark and hairy as the change became more noticeable. When the transformation was done, he was nearly two feet taller and his already large muscles had grown even larger. Through the whole event, the man stayed silent. Years of changing in situations where he had to remain quiet had taught him this.

"Now let's demonstrate the strength of a Lycan." Kegan said as two men brought up thick planks of wood. "You see the Lycans are rather strong, but while they have the strength and appearance of beast, they have the intelligence of any man." Kegan stated before signaling to Strokov. With a single swing one of the boards broke as if it were a mere twig. Strokov proceeded to grasp the other board with his hand and crushed it with little effort.

After this was done, Kegan smiled at Strokov, who now faced them. "Thank you Strokov. That was very well done. You may return now if you wish." Strokov then began to change back to his human form. "Oh also tell your men that we will be having some special missions coming up." Kegan then turned to Giorsail. "So, what do you think?" He asked with a smirk.

[Ormata]

Emissary Giorsail Bochanan
Norwich, East Anglia

"So, what do you think?"

“Impressive,” was Giorsail’s reaction, though her tone was flat and rather impassive. A larger target was quite interesting, from the view of an archer, though she suspected the Lycans were far, far more complex than just a change in size and hair, not to mention strength. Something in her suggested that they were a berserker class, as it were, a unit and soldier meant to move into the enemy ranks as quickly as possible and kill as many as possible. It was likely.

“A pity they weren’t more common, than.” She pursed her lips, taking a sip of the wine. It was fruity, though it had those little undertones that marked a Briton wine. A bit of cinnamon, almost. “Yes, a pity.”

Special missions...perhaps they would be used more as pathfinders. Trackers. Hunters. Giorsail could see that, too; doubtless the beast had a nose on him that worked, and if not that than mere human tracking methods would probably suffice for a beast with the strength as he had. Perhaps the Lycan had speed, too. It was possible. If anything, Giorsail knew they would not be used as beasts of burden.

[Nitom]

Norwich, East Anglia
Kegan Kruvok

Kegan would smile at her reaction. Though she hadn't shown much interest with her tone, it was often the case in such events that you not let the other party know your true feelings or intentions. The night would continue with some small talk with the laughter of his troops in the background. Even with this, Kegan sat mostly silent if not engaged in conversation. He watched his men, both those on guard and those who feast. They would rotate throughout the night, ensuring that each had their turn to eat and drink their fill.

Kegan would eventually stand up, having grown tired of the event. "I shall take my leave now. I have many things to do and must still get some rest before our journey tomorrow. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night." Kegan said with a meek smile. He would then push in his chair and signal to his guards to follow. Meanwhile, two guards took position a few feet behind the emissary to escort her back to her tent when she decided that she was ready.

Kegan would return to his tent and immediately begin working. He had but only a small amount of papers left to sign and orders to issue. Nearly fifteen minutes would pass before he would finish. "Well, now that's out of the way, I think I'll get some rest." Kegan said as he stretched his arms and walked towards his bed after securing the papers. He laid in bed, thinking about what this campaign had in store for him until he finally drifted to sleep.

[Ormata]

Emissary Giorsail Bochanan
Norwich, East Anglia

"I shall take my leave now. I have many things to do and must still get some rest before our journey tomorrow. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

“Good night, then.” Was her response, though Giorsail didn’t plan, at all, on staying for any prolonged period of time. The fact that the guards moved-in behind her, waiting like two dogs, was slightly disturbing. It gave the impression that she was inconveniencing them in some way, though that was entirely truthful. She was inconveniencing them. As Giorsail was not, at all, comfortable with the idea, she ate her fill rather quickly. God dammit this wasn’t the sort of atmosphere she was used to. The normal procedures were laxer compared to this.

The fact that he meekly smiled, too, was rather interesting.

The emissary rose, going back to her tent with the two guards in tow and feeling like the dress was a bastard’s creation. It had gotten, somehow, tighter about the waist and, with the time she had worn it, had become looser about the shoulders. Whoever had decided on it’s design, in Giorsail’s opinion, should not have been allowed to produce it nor, for that matter, to have lived for any degree of time after sharing the design with the next guy. Whoever had designed it shouldn’t have, dammit. Her pace increased unthinkingly; she did not want to be caught outside with the damn thing falling off of her.

On arriving to the tent, the guards stopped, staying outside, and Giorsail shed the dress like a snake shedding skin. It was nice to be in a more comfortable position and, compared to the dress, being in the nude was far more comfortable. It really was. She didn’t really even bother to put-on her traveling clothing, just getting into the damn bed and going to sleep.

Her dreams were not particularly detailed, nor particularly memorable, and in complete honesty Giorsail could state that she slept really rather well for being in a vampire’s camp.

When she awoke the dress was gone. It was early in the morning and the emissary put on her traveling clothing which was still, somehow, a bit dusty from the ride in. Before clothing she dusted them off by smacking the things against the bed, which had to have been an interesting sound from outside and produced a nice little dust cloud. They’d be leaving in the morning, that Giorsail was sure of. He wouldn’t want to wait.

Briefly she had some breakfast in her tent, taken-in by a guard who had his gaze a bit too low. He was a Briton; she smelled it on him. He had that hair, too, along with the complexion of a Briton. Half-cold bacon and a hunk of bread was what she got.; if anything it wasn’t that bad. She got outside, making her way to the front gate. Once there, she waited; the camp was an interesting view, in all honesty.

Reminded her of a lot of other camps, aside from the strange armor.

In the distance Giorsail could see Kegan approaching.

[Tundra Terra]

Norwich, East Anglia
Lt. Volkmar




Volkmar was pissed...well more than was typical for the old veteran. Here was a simple job turning from glorious battle whom Lt. Volkmar in his garment and armor that was meant to be a pinnacle of intimadation or fear...into guard duty. He had to constantly babysit not just his own men but those of other groups as brawls were common enough without blades being involved. Separation among troops was common as everyone came from very opposing backgrounds and those from Veiern were generally distrusted as the same was given in return. Realistically it might be due to their tight-lipped nature especially when it came to info about the "boss." Tensions were running high as House of Shadow troops had discovered more than their fair share of secrets and hidden treasures, but had broken through an ancient vault of some old bank. A few Gold objects had been recovered but people were arguing over what the stacks of paper with signs of an old woman on it were to be used for. Ironically someone suggested to use it for the privy until a blue covered Lycan ran out screaming "it wasnt blueberries!" as everyone drowned themselves in laughter.

Negotiation Tent

Lt. Volkmar was his solemn self on the outside, but inside was a grim and darker torrent of thoughts. The fact his client had decided to reveal himself and the true nature of various did not sit well with Volkmar. Now what what his client did was his business as this was his expedition first and foremost, but if it endangered either his men or the House's interests then that is not a line he would live to see crossed. Also as an occasional tactical advisor and aide de campe, it made little sense. In his eyes, if his client Kegan had refrained from revealing his cards it would allow him decisive aces for him to play his hand with, but maybe...he's playing both sides of the game...towards a more underhanded move. Moves with which Volkmar is all too familiar back at home...

[Nitom]

Norwich, East Anglia
Kegan Kruvok

Kegan had awaken rather early in the morning. The suns light barely touched the walls of the city when he exited his tent. He would go to each of his commanders, giving them their orders for the time that he would be gone. Once that was done, he grabbed two of his advisors and eighteen guards from the Shadow House guards and Lycans. These would be his body guard for the trip to visit the Sidhe capital.

Kegan finally made his approach towards the gate, seeing Giorsail there, he gave her a smile. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Kegan asked as he got closer. Kegan looked back at the palace one last time before taking his horse from one of his soldiers and getting on. "We will need to ride fast, I don't want to spend the night in another kingdom." He said before his horse started to walk towards the gate that was now open.

Kegan gave one final look to his guards and Giorsail. "Let's go." He said in a semi yell before his horse took off, going down the road. Soon enough he was followed by his men as they went full speed towards the Sidhe.