((OOC: Just dropping in a note to say I'm still working on the 'Rescue', just been floored with a cold, and between that, lack of sleep and the medicene I'm taking what I've typed up so far is making as much sense as a Malkavian wired on caffinated vitae with a healthy dose of LSD on the side... So I'm going to try and knock it into some sort of sense before I post it))

[i:7349ce99c1] Back at Chateau Usse [/i:7349ce99c1]

Eveshka sat on the settee and looked up at Meerlinda. “Something has gone drastically wrong with Julius and I do not know what,” Eve began. “Julius is one of the few people alive that I truly trust.”

“Oui, Mademoiselle,” said Meerlinda in an offhand manner. “C’est ca.” She looked about the room with a nonchallant expression on her face, taking in the plush surroundings.

There was silence for several moments as Eveshka tried reading Meerlinda’s aura, unsuccessfully. Meerlinda merely enjoyed Eveshka’s discomfort throughout the silence.
Finally Eve broke the silence.

“You said you could help me get him out of trouble,” she started. “What must I do?”

Meerlinda fixed Eveshka with her sapphire eyes and pursed her lips.

“Frankly, I am surprised you are here, Eveshka,” began Meerlinda. “Why are you not in Cairo? Surely you must know that if the situation were reversed, hell, nor high water, nor perhaps even my command would keep him from you!”

Eveshka looked down at her hands and meekly said, “I am not at liberty to leave my domain.” She looked back up into Meerlinda’s piercing gaze. “I am still getting established. I dare not leave the greater trust that has been given to me by the Inner Circle, no matter WHO is at stake.” La Comtesse looked down and away from Meerlinda again and sucked on her bottom lip. Several moments of tense silence passed.

“Shall I tell you where he is, Comtesse?” asked Meerlinda with a face devoid of emotion. Eveshka, a master of reading auras and gauging people’s emotions was at a complete loss with Meerlinda. She had NEVER encountered so empty and blank an aura as she was encountering now. It was as if Meerlinda were a computer.

Eveshka looked at her intently and said, “He is in Cairo. I know that much.”

Meerlinda nodded saying, “Indeed, yet would you know the rest?”

Eveshka looked at her a moment with her head cocked slightly to the side, trying desperately to read something,….. anything…. into what Meer was feeling. She finally slowly shook her head no. “What is it you require in payment for this My Lady,” asked Eve.

Meerlinda ignored the question and bristled slightly. “No? You would not wish to know his fate? I truly thought you cared. Perhaps my journey is wasted. I have duties in my domain that require my attention...” Meerlinda trailed off meaningfully, looking towards one of the windows out into the starlit night.

Eveshka looked up with very poorly masked anger in her eyes, “Of course I want to know his fate.”

Meerlinda slowly looked back at Eve with a condescending smile on her face. “Of course you do. Have you heard of Abetorious?” asked Meerlinda.

“Only shadowy tales,” responded Eve. “Nothing more than that.”

Meerlinda nodded and continued on. “You should know that Abetorious is the Tremere Councillor for Asia. You should also know that he is my Childe.”

Eveshka nodded but remained silent, listening to every word.

“Once, a time ago, Julius went to the Middle East,” said Meerlinda. “Do you remember?”

Eveshka nodded and said, “Yes. To Iran, to speak with Hassan Ibn Sabbah.”
Meerlinda nodded and went on, “While he was there, he achieved something that Abetorious never could. Julius was actually raised in rank for his efforts on the occasion, yet earned the enmity of my Childe in the process.”

La Comtesse de Touraine nodded with eyes widening. “Where does Abetorious keep his chantry? What city I mean. In Cairo?” she asked. “Is that who has him,” Eve continued asking, her questions getting more and more urgent.

Meerlinda smiled slightly and said, “Oh no, his chantry is in Istanbul, however your assumption is not innacurate, for Cairo does indeed fall within the domain of Abetorius. And yes, my childe has taken Julius. No doubt he seeks to learn how Julius does what he does. It is a mystery of our House. As I'm sure you know, we have a wide variety of techniques for our... research.”

Eveshka clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into the palms of her hands and began to bleed. “Yes, I am well aware of some of them, having been the object of an experiment once,” growled Eveshka, through clenched teeth.

“Ah yes, the incident with Goratrix, our errant brother,” said Meerlinda, not without a touch of embarrassment. Eveshka’s eyes opened wide and she said, “You know of…..” She trailed off looking down at her hands a moment before continuing, “Of course you know of it.”

Meerlinda nodded slightly. “Little escapes our attention, as I’m sure you know. It may comfort you to know that Julius has no concept of what Abetorius does. Or then again, it
may not. Julius is... parted... from himself. His body lies in the chantry in Cairo, but his essence, that which makes him Julius, is... apart from it.”

“How do I get to him,” asked Eve.

Meerlinda regarded her for a moment before answering. “You don't. Nobody does. For Julius to be made whole, his body must be removed from its current situation. The magic must balance, my dear. Surely you can understand that, with your somewhat extensive knowledge of such things.... oh yes, we know of your dabbling in our arts.”

Eveshka cocked an eyebrow in surprise and loses her blush of health.

“You're far too obvious, Comtesse,” said Meer. “Boiling the blood of your former subject was one of your finer advertisements.” Eveshka shrugged and replied softly, “Julius has seen me do far worse.”

Meerlinda nodded slightly and said, “I know, and for his own reasons he chooses not to question your abilities. That is his decision and we will not debate his wisdom here, yes?”

Eveshka nodded and weakly said, “Thank you.” She looked up into Meerlinda’s eyes: eyes which hadn’t removed their piercing stare, and hadn’t blinked throughout the whole interview. “How can I help him without actually leaving Touraine?” Eveshka asked. “I cannot go anywhere.”

Meerlinda looked at her silently for a moment and then said, “That is a question. A better question is this, why should I work against my childe and prevent him from learning how Julius manages to use the old magic? To be able to give that knowledge to the whole of my clan would profit us greatly, it not?”

Eveshka did not take her eyes off Meerlinda when she answered, “Objectively I suppose it would, but that would be ….. immoral.” Meerlinda laughed coldly and said, “As if kindred were ever thought to be moral, indeed, our clan is often feared for a perceived lack of morality.” Meerlinda gazed at Eve for several long silent moments. “So, my question stands. How far are you willing to go, Eveshka Shuvolov? Convince me that it is
in my interest to assist you.”

Eveshka bit her lip and started, “I…… it……” Meerlinda waited for Eve to finish as Eve looked around the room as if she were hoping for inspiration. She finally decided on, “Julius is your future.”

Meerlinda smiled slightly and softly said, “Let me make it easier for you. What can you offer me, in his stead?”

Eveshka looked at Meerlinda and coldly said, “Whatever your thoughts on my clan may be, I am a Toreador Elder. A POWERFUL one. I know this.”

Meerlinda met her tone with equal coldness, “Your power is well known, Toreador.”

Eveshka continued as if she had not even heard Meerlinda. “One holding a debt over my head holds a certain everywhere in France, and nearly everywhere in western Europe.
The Tremere inspire through fear.” Meerlinda interrupted with, “That has been said, though your Julius may be the exception.”

Eveshka shrugged noncommitally and continued, “Toreador inspire through something longer lasting. You are the thing that goes thump in the night. We are that which gives hope. Hope will outlast fear. Hold one who weilds hope in debt.... you have a powerful tool.” Eveshka stood up and walked over to the piano again and ran her finger lightly along the sound-board. “I am not one of the new generation of brainless twits who stare at piles of dog shit and get some weird meaning from it.”

Meerlinda smiled inwardly at the proud Toreador, but remained without outward affect. “You would place yourself in my debt? It seems a small thing, though perhaps... Do you remember your first meeting with Julius? The new Pontifex, under Grimgroth, who would take on the responsibility for my former Domain, in Britain?”

“Yes,” replied Eve.

Meerlinda nodded and continued, “At that time, he asked a favour of you. To set
his chantry in York, where you stood as Seneschal.”

Eveshka nodded and said, “I asked for his blood in return. Is that what you wish? For me to partake of your vitae?”

“That is the price you set for a debt,” said Meer. “I see no reason to say you were wrong.” Eveshka narrowed her eyes slightly, “That is what you require from me?”
Meerlinda nodded and said, “That will suffice, on this occasion.”

Eveshka stood looking down at the powerful vampiress and coldly said, “So be it.”
She walked over to an armoire and pulled out a crystal goblet and hands it to Meerlinda.
Meerlinda nodded with a smile and said, “Good, ever it was the Tremere way to take vitae from a cup, not the host. You mirror each other in many ways, Comtesse. Julius has many... Toreador ways about him, whilst you show elements of Tremere in you.”

Meerlinda filled the goblet with her vitae and handed it to Eveshka who held it for a moment. The two women’s eyes met and then the Comtesse drained the goblet in one gulp. She then shattered it on the ground at her feet and walked towards the settee that Meerlinda had sat down in.

“Good,” said the Tremere Councillor. Know then, that I have already set in motion
those things which will bring Julius safely back to you. An Astor is in place and allies come to her aid. Soon Julius will be free. With the information you have given me, I will assist him in deciphering the scroll. With the background information you have given me, I will be able to give the Astor the information she needs to free Julius.”

The two women looked at each other for several moments. Meerlinda bade her good bye and made her way out of the chateau. Eveshka meerly sat back down at the piano and resumed her scales.

Cairo's streets were ablaze with activity, at least in the grittier portion of the city that The Dandy, a recently established nightclub, made it's home. The building was unceromoniously constructed of brick and whitewash, giving it the appearance of the 'classical' Cairo of the 1930's American films. One might even expect to see a robed merchant complete with a fez wandering out.

But effendi's and pharoahs had long since been replaced by the young and mobile. The socially elite swarmed the club and it's surrounding streets, moving to the pulsing techno beat that could be heard for several miles. The club, one of the few untouched by the Setites vile tendrils, was quickly becoming a favorite of the undead. But for this evening at least, only Kine inhabited the premises.

Among them was a pair of brothers who stood out in stark contrast to the majority of the patrons. Thick black hair framed thin, serpentine faces that were frighteningly pale. Their frames were painfully thin and they moved with decided grace and speed. It was not uncommon for the Childer of Caine to mistake them for one of their own.

Daniel and Isaac were indeed rarities among Cairo's nightlife, but in the three years they had been in the area they had made many friends and very few enemies. That fact alone stood as a testiment to their skill...

Born in Wales to a family of thieves and beggars, the boys had spent most of their life traveling. Since birth they had trained studiously to hone their illicit talents and had done so with utter efficiency. Brought to Cairo by their parents at the ages of 17 and 18 respectively, they had immediately found work from local Setites, even coming unknowingly close to being embraced.

But their thoughts were not so much on scams tonight, as they were on the exotic beauty of the Egyptian females who's writhing bodies filled the dance floors of the club. Vignettes of passion and ecstacy filled their youthful mind and urged their bodies foward, hunting like wild dogs for prey.

Daniel leaned over to his older brother and shouted over the thumping beat.

"How much money do we have left?" he watched as his brother produced a crumpled genieh from his pants and held it up morosely. It was a higher marked bill, but wouldn't go far for the evening, especially if the boys planned to pick up dates. Isaac watched as Daniel glanced at the bill and then at the bar.

Daniel's coal grey eyes sparkled in the flash of the lights as his brain quickly unfurled a plan. Grasping his brother's shoulder, he pulled him towards the bar.

The bar was packed with patrons, all shouting at the two obviously overwhelmed bartenders for drinks. The two men worked out of a single register and were desperately cramming money into it as the customers continued their barrage of drink orders. Daniel and Isaac approached the far end of the bar and Daniel immediately struck up a conversation with one of the more inebriated (sp?) inhabitants.

"Watch!" the youth proclaimed, holding his hands into the air, the bill held tightly within. Just then the bartender walked by and the youth grasped him tightly by the sleeve. "Watch this pal, I'll make this gerieh disappear and then reappear somewhere else!"

The bartender stopped to watch, momentarily intrigued. Daniel continued, now drawing a fair crowd from the far end of the bar.

"And to prove that it's the genuine bill, I'll mark it with a large X, mind if I borrow your pen?" without hesitation, he plucked the bartenders pen from his pocket and proceeded to marr the bill with a thick black X across the front. Folding it into halves and then folding it once more he waved the bill in the air, gesturing wildly with his hands.

He allowed it to slip into his sleeve cuff and watched as the drunken patrons and exasperated bartender took no notice of the slight of hand.

'Now for the tricky part...' Daniel smiled inwardly. Passing his hands behind his back in a series of ornate motions, the bill slid from his cuff and into Isaac's hand, who just HAPPENED to be passing by at that exact moment.

Isaac made quick pace and proceeded to the other end of the bar, where the bartender was receiving more and more orders as his fellow employee watched Daniel's tricks. Snatching the bartenders attention, Isaac ordered a scotch on the rocks and watched as the bartender poured his drink, put the marked bill into the cash register, and returned with a rather hefty amount of change.

After Isaac procurred his drink and change, he headed back over to where Daniel stood to watch the completion of the scam. Daniel stood up shakily on the bar stool for effect, his eyes ablaze with excitement.

"Now my good man!" he called over-dramitically, "If you'll kindly CHECK the cash register, I believe you'll find the marked bill within!"

The bartender complied, and sure enough the bill sat atop a stack of others. The crowd applauded as the bartender returned the marked money to Daniel, with a complimentary drink for such an impressive trick. The duo left the bar and headed back towards the dance floor, drinks in and now having almost double their money.

"Well, a bit more cash in our pockets and free drinks to boot....not a bad start for the evening eh Isaac?" he said as he sipped his drink. Isaac scanned the dance floor.

"I'm afraid it's going to end on a lower note my dear brother...." the youth replied, his pale face dropping a few shades.

"What? Why?" Daniel replied, he followed his brothers gaze across the dance floor and he saw it. Through the jungle of bodies, the flailing arms and bobbing heads, far on the opposite side of the room, a thin figure stood against the wall, watching the two men.

A long duster hung from his frame and was in perfect coordination from his finely crafted suit. Black overcoat and pants with a shimmering white shirt embellished a head of hair so blonde, it was nearly white in the club's dim lighting. His face was thin and pale, much like the boy's, but the eyes held a fierceness that they could never hope, nor desire, to match.

"Oh sh*t...O'Brien...what's he doing here?"

The two veiled women watched the large Irishman known to them as "O'brien." They took a few photographs of him and bustled off down the narrow streets.

[b:ba42a67339]Cairo[/b:ba42a67339]

A storm had been buffeting Cairo for three solid days, despite the best efforts of the Nile's flood control measures there was too much runoff too quickly, the river's level was dangerously high. Many Setite fledgelings whispered amongst themselves that perhaps this storm was an omen that their God the lord of storms were returning. Their older peers however remained less impressed, they had lived longer and seen many storms in their lifetimes, and had even started a few on occasion...

This last consideration was not actually too far from the truth, Setites were not the only kindred that had learnt to control weather to limited degrees through magics of the blood. Such control was mostly guiding the natural power of the environment that was already in motion. A storm had been brewing naturally when Morathi had finalised her plan, and with careful coaxing over the past three nights she had stirred its destructive potential until it had formed into the monster that was currently assaulting Cairo.

Inside the museum Chantry, a few nervous neonates strived to reinforce the warding measures that protected their underground facilities from flooding by the Nile. The floodwaters were causing the stones protecting the chantry to creak disturbingly but it looked like they would hold.

Faisal's team were concealed in position a short distance away on the edge of the riverbank. They were dressed in stealthy wetsuits and carrying equipment that would usually be expected in the hands of an elite special forces unit. Morathi had been clear when she explained her plan that she ideally did not want any needless firefights during the rescue bid, and the weapons were solely for self defence and nothing more. The group checked their equipment and waited for their cue...

Meanwhile the British embassy was bravely continuing with their function despite the poor weather outside. On the stage, lights dimmed as the guest singer Ms Lucilla Troy started her performance of 'Da nao tian gong', 'Havoc in Heaven' aided by her toreador contacts and their retainers. As the opera begins, the Dragon King, the god of rain and water, is sending violent storms to the world of men. The storm outside setting the scene perfectly as Morathi sang her words clearly.

The opera continued to decribe how in order to stop the storms, Sun Wukong goes to the bottom of the sea and steals the Dragon King's storm scepter. The Monkey King fights off the Dragon King's soldiers (an army of crabs and prawns) and makes off with this supernatural weapon. The Dragon King reports the theft to the chief god, the Jade Emperor. The Jade Emperor attempts to reign in the mischievous Monkey by offering him an official position in his court. Sun Wukong demands to be named "Great Sage Equal to Heaven." The Jade Emperor complies, but in spite of his lofty title, Monkey is assigned the lowly task of guarding the Heavenly Peach Garden.

One day some celestial maidens come to stroll in the garden. They tell the Monkey King that the Queen Mother of Heaven is going to have a grand birthday banquet, but he is not invited. Furious, Sun Wukong breaks into the palace and helps himself to all the divine food, thus ruining the gods' banquet. The Jade Emperor sends his fiercest general, the Pagoda-Wielding Heavenly King, to punish Sun Wukong. After a rousing battle, the Monkey King defeats the Pagoda Wielding King and returns in triumph to his home on the Mountain of Flowers and Fruit.

Her thoughts soaring on the emotions inspired in the audience by her song, Morathi let her mind reach into the raging storm above, as the opera comes to the final battle, rumbles of thunder sound, as if the turbulant emotions of the songs were being echoed in the storm. Carefully she stimulated the storm's rage until it lashed out with raw elemental lightning, striking the bank of the Nile. The raw electricity vaporising the water soaked into the mortar binding the rocks together, the resulting expanding water vapour ripping the riverbank's flood defenses apart in a very specific place...

Horrified neonates within the chantry fled as the wall protecting the chantry from the Nile burst in, followed with a flood of water. Magical alarms sounded one after another as the floodwaters crashed through the chantry's intruder defences, triggering emergency rituals that protected important stored documents and artifacts from elemental damage. The chantry's occupants seeking the safety of the upper floors of the museum as the lower levels of the chantry began to flood.

[i:ba42a67339]"Go!..."[/i:ba42a67339]

Faisal ordered as he and his team dived into the raging waters of the Nile, allowing the current to carry them downstream to the breached part of the riverbank, using the supernatural speed and reflexes granted by their blood to safely swim into the breach. Heading downwards into the deeper parts of the now flooding chantry, its defences too overwhealmed by the floodwaters to be able to counter the intrusion of the assamite commando team.

Finally Faisal found what he was looking for. A kindred prisoner that had not been freed in the rush to escape the floodwaters that was strapped to a table. It seemed he was in some sort of torpor, but Faisal could recognise the features of the Tremere that had had dealings with his master. Signalling silently to his team with hand codes they cut Julius free of his bonds and zipped him into a bodybag for ease of transport. He then took a waterproofed packet out of his wetsuit's pocket and nailed it to the table with a dagger.

By this point the lower levels of the chantry had flooded completely and there was less current to fight against as Faisal's team backtracked to the breach, pushing themselves out into the strong currents of the Nile and letting it carry them away downstream to where they could meet up with a prearranged extraction that could get Julius out of Egypt by plane to Touraine and Eveshka...

Back at the British Embassy, her song finished, Morathi bowed to the audience and quietly left the Embassy. She intended to leave Egypt discretely during the following day, and rest on the plane. But before that she wanted to visit the Pyramids, calling the attention of a taxi she made her way to the ancient structures, planning to see them illuminated by whatever moonlight could finally break through the now dying out stormclouds.

[b:8c86fd72ec]Cairo, The Museum Chantry[/b:8c86fd72ec]

The breach in the Nile riverbank had been sealed quickly by bringing down more of the wall's surroundings to effectively plug it as the Chantry's occupants fought back against the assualt of nature on their residence. Hastily pumps were put into play to drain the flooded levels. fortunately the priceless archives and artifacts had been protected against such disasters, but the flooding had damaged many minor projects. But such damage for the most part was only a temporary setback.

A nervous apprentice approached Abetorius and handed him the sealed letter and dagger that had been left in the place of Julius.

[i:8c86fd72ec]"I'm sorry... When we recovered the chamber we only found this in the place of the subject..."[/i:8c86fd72ec]

The apprentice quickly left before he was blamed for the loss of Julius. Abetorius opened the letter. it was unsigned and written in Hermetic Latin by a graceful hand.

[i:8c86fd72ec][b:8c86fd72ec]To whomever it may concern

It has come to my attention that a report (CAI-532454B) on the feasibilty of a potential flooding of the Cairo Chantry by the River Nile had been written by Hypapatia, Curatrix of Secrets of said Chantry which warned a disasterous flooding of the chantry was possible. I'm sorry to say the Chantry's Regent at the time, Kasper von Aupfholme failed to order the improvement of the Chantry's protective wall.

In light of recent events I would conclude Hypapatia has been proved right. If Regent Aupfholme was not already missing, I would recommend disciplinary action was taken against him for failing to protect his chantry against disaster. As it stands I would recommend Hypapatia as his replacement in light of her foresight.[/b:8c86fd72ec][/i:8c86fd72ec]

[i:728806fb2f] In Cairo, in Gabriel's temporary Haven [/i:728806fb2f]

Tyler knocked lightly on the door to the room Gabriel used as his study. "Come," called Gabriel. Tyler entered the room to see him standing out on the veranda overlooking the city. From his vantage point he could see the havoc being wreaked by the flooding Nile. "Sire," said Tyler. "You will want to see this." He handed a single piece of paper to Gabriel. "This is a copy of a fax sent from Dr. Malik to someone in Baghdad, Iraq and somebody outside Tours, France." Gabriel looked at it and read:

[i:728806fb2f] Therein passed the last of them, far beyond the boundaries of Shal Ka-Mense. Unto the desert. Unto the Hill. Unto the Sea and thrice beyond the New Kingdom. Therein lay Caine, First Born Caine. Pierced of the Heart. Pierced of the Flesh. Pierced of the Soul. Therein passed Nanna, survivor of Shal Ka-Mense. Behold the Splinter of Splinters. Piercer of the First Born. Piercer of the All Father. Unto Lamech it has gone. Unto Lamech it shall remain, until Nanna, the survivor of Shal Ka-Mense, returns to claim the Birth Right. Returns to complete the passage. Returns to rejoin the Line of Man and rule in the Light. [/i:728806fb2f]

He was silent for several minutes. Gabriel looked up at Tyler with his mouth wide open. "My God," he said. "Is this what I think it is?"
Tyler merely shrugged. Gabe looked back down at the fax.


[i:728806fb2f] In Tours, France [/i:728806fb2f]

Eveshka looked at the fax from Dr. Malik. Nanna..... hmmm, who was Nanna. The name seemed familiar somehow. She also wondered who else Malik had sent this to. She knew that he was double dealing, but didn't really care.

She set the fax down and walked over to her bookshelf and pulled down a dusty leather bound book. She opened it up to an ancient map. Drawn in a brownish pigment were rivers, mountain ranges, seas, and a few cities. Written in illuminated medieval cyrillic, over one of the cities, was the name "преданный". She furrowed her brows and wondered what the heck "Dedicated" meant, and why someone would give that name to a city. The map was drawn in entirely within a circle, had four rivers. They were the Gihon, the Pishon, the Euphrates, and the Tigris.
The city named "Dedicated" looked to be inside present day Azerbaijan.

Eveshka stood up and carried the book over to a lecturn. Upon it was another book, beautifully gilded and bejeweled. Upon the cover was an icon of the Trinity done in the Pskov school of iconography. She opened it up to Genesis 4:16... [i:728806fb2f] Then Cain went out from the presence of the Lord and dwelt in the land of Nod on the East of Eden. 17. And Cain knew his wife, and she conceived and bore Enoch. And he built a city, and called the name of the city after his son - Enoch. [/i:728806fb2f]

She shook her head slightly and closed the book. Eveshka went and sat down again and stared at her bookshelf for several hours. After a some careful contemplation she suddenly said "Transliterated." She stood up and went back to the ancient map. She wondered what was the Old Hebrew word for "Dedicated." She would have to contact a few people and see if they could point her in the right direction.

[i:1c0b468e64]In Twilight[/i:1c0b468e64]

The gull noticed a change in the weather through his newly acquired seabird senses, though it took some time for the information to seep through into the internal spark that was Julius. As was sometimes the danger with such transformations, he had become rather gullish, losing himself in the form he had taken. This was the problem with taking on a lesser form, one's own consciousness could drift away, until one became little more than the form one had chosen. It was, naturally, possible to restore one so afflicted, but it required someone with an intimate knowledge of the subsumed personality and some rather clever magic. Fortunately, Julius wasn't quite so far gone, at least not yet.

A storm was coming, fast and unstoppable. Julius made for shore as quickly as he could, but the storm was yet faster. Perhaps with more practice, he could have outflown it, or possibly weathered the storm on the wing, but not this time, the winds whipped around him, as lightning flashed and thunder crashed. Julius was cast from the sky, down, down into the sea, becoming engulfed in the cold dark, entangled in the seaweed forest that lay below the waves. He struggled against his restraints, to no avail... struggling... struggling...

[i:1c0b468e64]Banks of the Nile, downstream from Cairo[/i:1c0b468e64]

...Struggling... struggling against something black and plastic. His wings... no his arms, flailing in confined futility against some kind of bag. By instinct, rather than conscious thought, his body spent blood to increase his strength and Julius burst forth from the body bag. The beast growled and writhed within him, as his consciousness returned. Surrounded, he was, surrounded by dark figures. Too full of the beast and too incoherent for magic, he prepared to battle his assailants.

Faisal and his brothers saw the body bag explode and Julius fight his way out. The shock came when Julius' celerity engaged and he came at them like a mad thing. "Restrain him!" Faisal shouted and as one, the assamite team jumped on Julius, holding him down.

Julius struggled in vain against his assailants, yet even for all the strength his blood could muster, he could not stand against so many. Pinned to the ground and helpless, he struggled instead to contain his beast. The leader of the group leant over him and said simply, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Where had he heard that before? Something he had once said, perhaps. Yes, that was it, Hassan Ibn Sabbah. Recognition glimmered in his mind, "Faisal?"

[i:1c0b468e64]"Maharba Julius. Na'am, ismy Faisal. Kayf hâluk?"[/i:1c0b468e64] Answered the Assamite, in Arabic. [i:1c0b468e64]"Shukran. Al-hamdu li-lâh. Wa ant?"[/i:1c0b468e64] Replied Julius in kind,[i:1c0b468e64]"'Anâ bi-khayr."[/i:1c0b468e64] Said Faisal, "Release him. Insh' Allah, he is himself again."

Julius stood up, slowly examining himself. On his body were scars that, perhaps would never heal, a legacy from Abetorius' tender mercies. A younger, less wise Julius would have at once started for the chantry, to vent his rage with all the powers at his command, but he remembered the stranger's lesson. "Your sister will be meeting us here." Began Faisal. "My sister?" Asked Julius. "The one they call Morathi." Replied the Assamite. "Morathi? What is she doing here."

"Extracting you from some danger." Grinned Faisal. "Is that not what family are for? I believe she has arranged transport back to Touraine."

"She is a good sister." Said Julius, "As you are a good friend, Faisal." The Assamite nodded his acknowledgement. "But I have much work to do before I return to Europe. Please give the Sheikh may best wishes, you and he have my gratitude."

"Your friend, in Touraine, she has much worried about you, yes?"

Julius nodded and incanted slowly, but failed to reach Eveshka. He looked at Faisal with a wry smile, "I hunger and I am still too weak for magic, do you happen to have a phone I might borrow?"

"Childe of Tremere, you are insufferable!" Laughed Faisal as he passed over a handset.

((Apologies to any fluent speakers for the pooly transliterated Arabic!))

((wow! well i apologize for my recent bit of absence. school, work, g/f, etc. you know the routine. anyway, i should be posting this evening, as it's midnight as i write this. thx for the awesome lead in.

"I don't suppose you brought me a change of clothes?" Were the first words a wet and dishevelled Julius said to his former whip as she stepped from the car. Julius had always enjoyed trying to wrong foot Morathi, sometimes with success, though conversely Morathi had also put one over on Julius from time to time. Morathi regarded him for a moment, his expensive suit was soaking wet, but in any event had been ruined by the attentions of Abetorius and his cohorts. Clearly, the name of Armani was not sufficient to prevent the cutting and ripping away of garments that impeded their investigations.

"I didn't expect to find you up and about. I've made arrangements to get us back to Touraine."

Julius shook his head. "We've too much to do here first. That is, unless you have anything pressing you must attend to."

Morathi looked unsure. "I should be writing a report, my... superiors should be informed. There has been a serious breach of the code."

"My advice is this." Replied Julius. "Don't write your report. People who need to know what has happened will know soon enough. Meantime, you have an ace up your sleeve, should you ever come into contact with Abetorius. A little leverage, best saved for another time, I think. But it's your choice."

Morathi nodded slowly, taking in the words of another lecture from her former mentor. "I'll consider it. What is it that you wanted me to do?"

"I would guess you've made some contacts in the city, yes?"

"Lucille Troy has been seen in the company of some of the local Toreador. In fact, she performed at the British Embassy last night." Morathi smiled coyly.

"Toreador." Julius snorted. "Hopefully not the usual collection of refugees from some bizarre parody of an art festival. See if you can expand on that. We are looking for references to the Cult of Thoth and in particular cyphers they may have used."

Morathi was silent for a moment. "Cyphers. What are you doing in Cairo, Julius?"

"The scroll, Mora. Once again it rears it's head and people are hurt and killed for it. Maryushka amongst them. I will not rest until I have found it's secrets and put it to rest. Once and for all. I could use your help."

Morathi stood for a moment, wrestling with the inner turmoil of emotion these revelations brought. Julius watched, trying to gauge her reaction, of all people, Morathi had always been hard for him to read. "I'll do what I can." She said, at length. "What will you be doing?"

"I will be digging through the chantry library, which is what I came here to do in the first place."

"So eager to return?"

"I doubt Abetorius will still be there." Julius shrugged. "Even if he is, I'll be ready for him this time. I'll be setting up a temporary office there and putting the frighteners on the locals. Maybe they'll even clean the place up some! Right now though, I could use a lift to the airport so I can get some things from my jet."

Morathi nodded. "No problem."

Julius walked over to Faisal, who had maintained a respectful distance during the exchange and shook his hand. "I'll keep in touch." Faisal smiled and with a nod to his team, they disappeared into the night. Julius walked back towards the car. "Mora?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks. Thanks for coming after me. I owe you one."

Morathi smiled slightly and nodded. "It will be dawn soon, we should go."

[i:0cbebb6e27] Outside Cairo on the plains of Giza, before the Great Pyramid [/i:0cbebb6e27]

The gang of laborers shoveled away at the ancient sand. Each passing inch brought them just that much closer to…. well they didn’t exactly know why they were digging, or what they hoped to find. They were merely hired help. They had been digging here for 4 successive nights in a row being watched over by a group of men in black military looking fatigues. The men looked Arabic but spoke a language that none of them had ever heard before. Each man had a pendant of a cresecent moon around his neck that glittered in the torchlight.

One man’s shovel struck something hard and he exclaimed loudly and excitedly. The four men in black raced with blinding speed over to where the digger stood, pushed him aside and began, themselves, to dig. After nearly thirty minutes they had what looked like the top of an arch uncovered. At the location of the keystone was what looked like the head of an Ibis. The four men began jabbering in their odd language and then directed in Arabic for the workers to continue digging. One of them flipped open a cell phone and dialed a number.

[i:0cbebb6e27] Paris, the Sorbonne, the Office of Dr. Salah Malik [/i:0cbebb6e27]

The phone rang and was picked up after two rings.

“Bon Soir,” said Dr. Malik. The other voice responded in Farsi. “Congratulations Salah, we’ve found the Tabernacle…”

[i:0cbebb6e27] Written on a print out being held by Gabriel O’Brien in Cairo [/i:0cbebb6e27]

Unknown Contact in Baghdad - …. you have done well.

Dr. Malik – Thank you.

Unknown Contact in Baghdad – Yes, Salah, our operatives found it just 15 minutes ago. It was just as you said it would be: thirty degrees to the left and 600 rods off of the Great Pyramid.

Dr. Malik - How far down have they dug?

Unknown Contact in Baghdad - You shall see for yourself. I’ve taken the liberty of booking a flight leaving Charles DeGaulle in three hours. I shall have a car waiting for you at the Airport in Cairo. Pack the remaining fragments and come. We shall speak again soon.

/////////// Contact Severed At This Point ///////////////////

Gabriel looked up and out into the night and thought about his options.

"Mr..O'Brien..." Tyler's high whine was pitched unusually low. "Ah! Mr. O'Brien...!"

As the fog of deep thought dispersed from Gabriel's mind he took stock of his surroundings once more. He sat where he had for the past several hours, in the box seating of the old opera house, surrounded by red satin curtains and a few overly cushioned chairs. Had his body retained the desire to sleep during the night, he may have well dozed off in the softness of his accomodations.

"Mr. O'Brien!" Tyler pleaded once more, with a fair bit more urgency in his voice now. Gabriel's thick hand was wrapped firmly, a bit TOO firmly, around the ghoul's slender wrist, which even now hovered above his shoulder. Releasing, Gabriel murmured an offhanded apology and gathered his belongings before the two dispersed into the river of patrons below.

As they left the opera house Gabriel realized he had been too deep in thought the entire performance to recall anything of significance. The stars were bright, and could have easily illuminated the now crowded streets without the assistance of the lamps. Tyler kept pace with his employer, gingerly cradling his wrist.

"Could it really be Tyler?" Gabriel wondered as they made their way back in the direction of the hotel.

"Well, it seems a bit far fetched. I mean...the Garden of Eden? Ancient dieties?" he chuckled. Abrudtly, the Ventrue Seneschal came to stop, fully prepared to lay into the young ghoul with the reality of vampires and Caine. Prepared to strike down his flawed logic and mortal skepticism, but as the blank look on Tyler's youthful face registered, he thought better and the two resumed pace.

They walked in silence the distance back to the hotel, Gabriel content to watch the various insects and birds manipulate the Egyptian summer breeze to their advantage. The moon was a bright dinner plate, it's craters and lunar imperfections clear to the naked eye, unabashed by the surrounding clouds which almost seemed too timid to obstruct it's view of the Earth.

When Gabriel and Tyler finally arrived at their room, the three figures perched near the window glanced over, two of them notably straightening up a bit. Daniel and Isaac looked considerably different than they had two nights ago, not only in apparel but in demeanor as well.

"Evening boys." Gabriel said, pulling his briefcase from the closet and bringing to the group. "It's a big one tonight."

Isaac rolled his eyes, scoffing slightly while his brother merely looked the briefcase over with interest.

"I hope it wasn't too unpleasant a drive, I'd hate..."

"Alright O'Brien," Isaac interjected, his waning patience clear upon his brow, "what's this about?"

Gabriel smiled and snapped the suitcase open. Inside sat two tiny videocameras in plastic covering, apparently to keep any sand out. Next to them was a pair of small revolvers.

"I realize it's not your standard operating equipment, but it was the best I could do on short notice and it should suffice for your task tonight." The brothers picked up the equipment, Isaac taking specific interest in the pistols.

"Alright, what're we doing?"

++++++++++++

As the brother's sat atop the stolen horses facing the empty void of dunes that made up the desert, Daniel couldn't help but feel a bit like Laurence of Arabia. As a smile pursed his lips, Gabriel's cold deathly voice ripped his from his fantasy.

"Meet me tomorrow night in my hotel room. Remember, no one is to see you. If they see you...run." He sat in the comfort of his rental car, a black Sedan. Tyler smirked from up front and gunned the engine, causing the horses to pace nervously.

"Alright, have our money ready." Isaac snapped, his frustration at the ghoul showing. Gabriel merely nodded and reached in his coat pocket. He produced two miniature canteens and tossed them to each rider. Daniel uncorked the top and inhaled, it was coppery. Dipping his finger in, it was blood!

"What the hell is this??" Daniel exclaimed. Gabriel smiled.

"A fighting chance."

[i:32dc328bf2][b:32dc328bf2]Cairo Airport, aboard Darrant Industries Learjet[/b:32dc328bf2][/i:32dc328bf2]

Julius showered and changed, washing the smell of the nile and the residue of Abetorius' experiments away. He needed to rest and he needed to feed but time for sleep, or to hunt, was a luxury he simply could not afford. Opening the onboard safe, Julius brought forth his special reserve. Vitae from the Elder Assamite who had entered his mansion in York, been captured by himself and Mundug, then met his death in the sun room. Julius remembered only too well, the body convulsing on the slab, held down by cold iron chains. The last words spoken, "I cannot.. Ali will..." Who Ali was, Julius had never discovered and the Assamite spy was now ash on the breeze. His vitae though, was good, refreshing and sufficient to return Julius to full strength. Packing a bag with his laptop, skull and a few personal items, he headed back to the chantry.

[i:32dc328bf2][b:32dc328bf2]Cairo, the Museum Chantry[/b:32dc328bf2][/i:32dc328bf2]

It came as no surprise that the markers were still unrenewed, but now Julius knew his way to the front door. Resisting the delicious temptation to simply blast the portal from it's hinges was a true exercise in self-control, but nonetheless, Julius simply knocked, three times, according to ancient custom.

As before, a small window opened in the door to reveal a hooded figure in the darkness of the corridor beyond. This time however, the door was swiftly opened to admit the Pontifex. "P..P..P" Stammered the doorkeeper. "Regent. Now." Ordered Julius. "B..Bu...B..." The doorkeeper stammered on. "The Nile has baptized this chantry with water. Obey my commands, lest I now baptize it with fire." Said Julius, slowly and evenly, raising his [i:32dc328bf2]Parma Magica[/i:32dc328bf2] and preparing for trouble.

The doorkeeper nodded and led on.

Within the chantry, the evidence of recent flooding was everywhere. If it had been in disrepair before, now it was a disaster zone. The doorkeeper led Julius through rooms with recent and familiar memory. A couple of apprentices tried lamely to obscure view of a table to which Julius had lately been strapped. A simple glance in their direction had them trembling with fear.

Finally, they arrived at a wooden door. The doorkeeper began to knock, but Julius walked straight in. The figure sat behind the desk stared wide eyed at Julius, as he turned to the doorkeeper. "Out!" Commanded Julius. The doorkeeper didn't need telling twice, exiting at speed from the scene. "You are Aupfholme?" Demanded Julius. The man nodded. "How strange, I heard you were missing! Where is the Councillor?"

"Councillor Abetorius had to leave on urgent business."

"Naturally. No matter. I assume you know who I am?"

"You are Pontifex Julius Darrant."

"Good." Julius looked about the office. In contrast to the rest of the chantry, it was in reasonable repair. A red carpet with wooden panelling on the walls. The heavy oak desk with it's green leather top had elaborate decoration, both in the carving of the legs and the fine decorative marquetry. "I need somewhere to work." Continued Julius. "This office looks good." Julius waited a moment. "You seem to be in my chair, Regent Aupflholme." The Regent started to protest, but seeing the look in Julius' eye, stood up and walked to the front of the desk. Julius moved to occupy the rather comfortable executive leather seat. "Now, I'm sure you'll agree, Regent, that this chantry is a disgrace to our House. I will have your report, on my desk." Julius emphasized the word 'my', ever so slightly, "within two hours, including a plan of action to rectify the situation."

"Two hours? But..."

"Alternatively, I can have an Astor here within 30 minutes and allow the Quaesitori to deal with the situation. Who knows what else they might discover about this chantry and it's recent history?"

"Two hours. Of course, Pontifex Darrant."

Julius completed his own report, putting down the pen and checking his watch. Aupflholme's two hours was nearly up. Not that it made any difference. The Regent's fate was already sealed. Someone knocked on the door. "Come." Said Julius. Aupflholme walked in, carrying a file. "My report, Pontifex."

"Good." Replied Julius, flicking briefly through the profferred papers, before adding his own and placing the whole in an envelope, which he sealed with a waxen imprint of his sigil and appropriate words of power. "You will take this package to Vienna. I have booked you on the next available flight. See that it arrives safely." Aupflholme slumped, he had hoped... but hope was fast deserting him. "As you command, Pontifex."

"On your way out, send in Hypapatia." The condemned man nodded and turned away, beaten and dejected. "You were a bloody fool, Kaspervon. You should have tried to stop him. Done something, anything." The Regent turned back. "The apprentices are innocent, Pontifex. They didn't even know who you were. There is much talent here, our house should care for it. I entrust them to your safe keeping." Julius nodded as Aupflholme left the room.

Presently, a second knock came on the door. "Come." Called Julius. A rather nervous looking woman entered the room. "You sent for me, Pontifex?"

"You are Hypapatia?"

"Yes, Pontifex."

"Good, close the door and take a seat." Hypapatia did as instructed, noticing two items upon the desk in front of her. Airline tickets and a small phial of red liquid, presumably vitae. "You are aware of what has transpired here over the past few days?" Asked Julius. "My concern is for the library and artifacts we keep here." Avoided Hypapatia. "I see. I wonder, over the countless ages, how many have attempted to avoid responsibility by sticking their heads in the sand and of those, I wonder how many found their avoidance to be successful in furthering their aims. I assure you, that your aims whatever they may be, will not be helped by denying a share of responsibility. You are a senior member of this chantry Hypapatia, the Curatrix of the Secrets. It is to you that the newer apprentices will turn for advice, now that the Regent has been called to Vienna. I am... disappointed... by your attitude."

"Called to Vienna?" Said Hypapatia in a small voice, eyeing the airline tickets nervously. Julius nodded. "So, I ask again, you [b:e622ead9d5]are[/b:e622ead9d5] aware of the events of the past few days. Aren't you? And you did nothing."

"What could I do, Pontifex? From what I have heard about you, you should have been able to blast Abetorius to a cinder where he stood, yet he ensnared you with seeming ease. Should I stand up to him?"

"No, not directly. And yes, he ensnared me. Given time to prepare and the assistance of the chantry. Not to mention my overconfidence. Still, we all have our faults. Yours was inaction. All you had to do was walk out of the building and inform someone. The Code of Tremere was directly broken in this chantry, along with numerous infractions of the peripheral code. You stood by and did nothing. House Tremere rewards loyal years of service, but rewards those who stand out by their actions first and foremost. Conversely, those who fail to uphold the principles of our House are subject to discipline."

"Then I am to be punished, though I have not done anything wrong."

"You turned a blind eye, when you should have acted. This was your error. On the desk in front of you are tickets to Vienna..."

Hypapatia looked at the floor.

"...and also a small phial of vitae. You will have tasted it before, at your embrace. You may take the tickets, or drink the contents of the phial. Your choice."

"Not much of one." Replied Hypapatia. "I'll drink the damned vitae."

Julius nodded and waited whilst she drained the contents of the phial. "I hope it never becomes necessary to provide you with a third drink. No matter, you have made the correct choice and I hope you will, in future, consider your loyalty to House and Clan Tremere, over and above the individuals within it, yourself included. Now, hand over your sigil."

Hypapatia removed a ring from her finger and dropped it reluctantly into Julius' hand. "You are demoting me, also?"

Julius shook his head. "No. The second part of your punishment is a penance you will perform. You made a report, some time ago, concerning flood defences so it is clear that you care about the future of this chantry. Therefore, it will now be your job to rebuild and maintain it as a centre of excellence, something our House and Clan will be proud of. I'm not sure if congratulations are in order, or not, Regent Hypapatia."

Hypapatia staggered for a moment, a heady mix of trepidation, relief and fear running through her mind and body. After a moment, she collected herself. "The honour is to serve, Pontifex Darrant."

Julius handed back her sigil, which now bore the magical signs which showed the owner as Regent. "Good. Then I hope your library is still in good order and not damaged by the flooding. You will now co-ordinate a research project. I want all references you have in your archives to the Cult of Thoth, indexed by subject and brought to me here. Furthermore, I want apprentices in all the appropriate libraries in the area, finding the same material. Then I want to know if anyone else has been asking about the same information, or looking for anything connected with this. You will perform this duty quietly and with the utmost descretion. Finally, you will personally check the material you collect, in particular I want to know about cyphers used by the Cult, but anything out of the ordinary should be flagged for my special attention. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Pontifex Darrant."

Julius nodded. "Then get on with it, Regent. Similarly, do not be slack in commencing refurbishments."

"Yes, Pontifex." Hypapatia opened the door to the office.

"And Hypapatia..."

"Yes, Pontifex?"

"Call me Julius."

Gliding quietly from the curtained alcove where she had been waiting during the past meetings, Morathi coughed quietly...

[i:2ea4811ea9]"In all due respect to our new Regentia's determination to prove her dedication to her new duties... Do you feel I should assist her in her research... I'll need a reason to suddenly appear in this Chantry after all..."[/i:2ea4811ea9]

She had her own reasons for investigating, she was aware of Julius' earlier threat to bring in an Astor, idle threat or not from what she had seen so far an assessment of the Chantry was well past due. She was also interested in examining the archives for her own research purposes and it was always ideal when personal interest and duty coincided...