[b:959f1be558][i:959f1be558]"One, that is no way for a gentleman to speak to a lady,"[/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558] Wren said to Poe from where he stood, admiring the work of the boy he had been teaching up til now; the glassblowing was crude, but it did show promise.

[b:959f1be558][i:959f1be558]"Two, this... shithole, as you would term it, is a home to the people here, you may not like it, but then, I suppose that some people are never satisfied,"[/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558] he added, stretching lazily and taking in the appearance of each in turn before he spoke again, [b:959f1be558][i:959f1be558]"And last, of course, but perhaps most important of the things I have to say... please do not harm the humans living here. I think Julius would probably be incensed."[/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558]

Wren paused, and then sighed, looking over to see that the lad had made an error in timing, and the glass bottle the child had been working so hard to make had just been irrevocably destroyed, much to the dismay of the child. [b:959f1be558] [i:959f1be558]"There there, everyone makes mistakes, the only failure about them is to not learn from them,"[/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558] he said with a warm hearted smile, his half persian, half english features showing him very clearly in the harsh firelight from the outdoor oven they were using.

[b:959f1be558][i:959f1be558]"Now, go tell Julius we have visitors, alright? Thats a good lad," [/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558]he said softly, sending the youngster scurrying away before he turned to the trio, his attention once again fully devoted to the them. [b:959f1be558][i:959f1be558]"I don't think I'd be terribly pleased either, since these people are well aware of our unique dietary needs, and they are kind enough to offer hospitality in that regard,"[/i:959f1be558][/b:959f1be558] he half whispered, before smiling in a decidedly friendly manner and offering his hand, [i:959f1be558][b:959f1be558]"Ah, but I forget my manners; I must be getting forgetful with age. Wren Ashley, at your service."[/b:959f1be558][/i:959f1be558]

From humble beginnings, when Julius' crazed mind had conjoured a few stone huts from the mud, the "City" of New Enoch had grown from a hamlet, to a village, to a small town. A mixture of crude medieval technologies, coupled with those more contemporary remains salvaged from the rotting hulks of ships, beached like iron whales in the Black and Mediterranean basins. The net result was a town square, where potters and blacksmiths used muscle power to ply their trades, yet enjoyed the benefits of electric lighting. Beyond the growing collection of buildings (now being constructed in a more conventional way), fields were producing crops. The fine silt of the Black Sea basin provided a fertile medium, even under the ever present gloom. A centralised barter system had sprung up, not quite communist, but certainly communal and co-operative. More mortals continued to arrive from the wilderness, yet for now, it seemed the growing community was free of the plagues of crime and corruption. Whether this was testament to the pervading will of the antediluvian at the town's centre, or the ability of Wren to seemingly appear wherever trouble might be brewing, was debatable.

It was to this backdrop that the three new kindred arrived, messenger duly dispatched and the increasing smile on Gabriel's face.

Gabriel: [i:5090228572]"Julius?"[/i:5090228572]
Kathy: [i:5090228572]"Julius!"[/i:5090228572]
Poe: [i:5090228572]"Who?"[/i:5090228572]

Gabriel pointed. [i:5090228572]"Julius."[/i:5090228572]

Julius strode, almost at a run towards the group, grabbing Gabriel up in a hug and planting a kiss squarely on his lips.

[i:5090228572]"Hey, ok Jules, it's good to see you too."[/i:5090228572]

Julius dropped him like a stone... [i:5090228572]"Jules?"[/i:5090228572] He rolled his eyes. [i:5090228572]"Hmmm.. Gabe, do you realise you are stark naked?"[/i:5090228572]

::PUDDLES!!:: I'll post something here...

once I stop laughing my head off! :shock:

"Jules" ::snickers:: "stark naked" ::chortles::

::ducks like crazy to avoid being squashed by flying objects, such as fireballs::

That the moonbase had somehow survived, regardless of lack of supplies was heartening to George. Though Eve hadn't felt him, it was therefore just possible that his old Inconnu comrade, Francis, had in fact survived up there. Perhaps he was in torpor, the few kine insufficient to sustain him. Detecting his presence at such a distance would have been a near impossible feat, even for Eveshka.

The new maps and weapons also, served to improve the situation. Whilst woefully out of date, enough features survived for navigation, which was just as well. Sun and stars were unavailable and compasses seemed unreliable, perhaps as a result of the cataclysm. It had been decided to head due south, into Ukraine and the Crimea to Sevastopal. Enoch being somewhere in the Black Sea basin, they should be able to find Julius from there.

Lack of useful transport was less heartening, however. They had managed to find some fuel for his rho-car, but the only other vehicles they had been able to locate had degraded beyond repair. Standard operating procedure had become George with some of the younger ones airborne, covering the group with the new plasma rifles, whilst Eve and Montcalm patrolled below, their hands never far from the hilts of their blades. Russia, it seemed, was a mess. What few men they did meet seemed intent on nothing more than robbery and violence. The best that could be said was that they provided a limited supply of vitae.

To make matters worse, M had taken it upon himself to reinforce George's sense of self preservation by means of a concentrated terror campaign designed to induce extremes of fear and paranoia. Noises from the undergrowth, tickling and unaccounted for feelings of dread coupled with the constant ever present sensation of eyes upon him. He had already once run off into the forest in screaming terror when a wild pig had burst onto their campsite. Further, every out of earshot conversation seemed to be about him and his declining faculties. In feral rage he had nearly killed one of the younger ones, the madness unleashing his beast. Only Eve's quick wits and vaunted powers had saved them; the young vampire from George and George from himself. Now, of course, they all distanced themselves from him, wary of the madness in their midst, fuelling the paranoid spark M had planted.

Strangely, as one renowned for her loathing of all things Malkavian, it Eve who comforted George in the blackest moments. Perhaps it was because she remembered the Ventrue he once had been, perhaps it was simply because she still needed his help to get them through. Either way, the strain of holding the group together was beginning to tell upon her.

They'd made it as far as Kursk, on the river Seim near what had been the Ukraine border. About 30 miles to the south, at Belgorod, German and Soviet forces had met in an historic battle, the largest clash of armour to take place in the entirety of World War II and the end of Hitler's dreams of taking Moscow.

Perhaps they would fare better in the remains of this settlement, perhaps they might find some transport, or perhaps more likely, George would finally go completely over the edge. Golconda or no, the madness had taken a new twist and his condition was worsening.

[i:bd883c2dce]"For now ... be silent." [/i:bd883c2dce]

The further shrieks of rage, that bubbled in her throat, were instantly cut off and she trembled with unfinished rage. That worthless son of the gods had placed a bond-geas on [b:bd883c2dce]HER[/b:bd883c2dce] avatar!! How had he done it! The answer had to lie in the time before she had awakened and it galled her to realize he'd probably planned her return to humiliation all along! She thumped her tail in frustration.

She hadn't recognized him at first, still orienting herself from her awakening and with only the view of his back. It wasn't until he'd interrupted her interrogation of the tattered man, that she'd turned and seen the piece of jewelry pinned to his robes. The symbol of Apollo, the sunburst!! It was then she'd named him what he was! Traitor!

Her subsequent threat had done her no good as he thrust upon her the truth of her existence. She was bound for good, until he released her. Not content with rubbing her face in her perdicament, he added more salt to the wound. He'd named her Medusa. The ultimate insult, in her own mind.

She'd slunk away to think much on what she'd learned. Somehow, some way, there was escape. She just had to find it.

The cattle within the city walls grew restless. Excitable. A feeling that permeated and nauseated the mind of Python. Her mind swam with images of unshuttered gates, of rolling hillscapes. The emotion welled in her making her retch with its simplicity.

Freedom.

Casting her eyes around the cattle pens and pigsty’s the actions were repeated. Shepherds struggled to pen their sheep, the simple minded animals felt drawn to some unknown goal, biting and butting with what scant weapons nature had allowed. Goats hissed and rammed the gates to their prisons. Breaking horns and hoof on the corrugated iron walls, pulling at their bonds with a growing frustration. Newborn calves whimpered as their mothers smashed their considerable bulks against wooden gates.

Python swayed at the notion, her nausea growing, drawing blood sweat to her writhing coiling brow as she felt the fetter Julius had placed upon her. Holding her in hellish place.

[i:79244f04d6]Come to me. I give you that which you seek.[/i:79244f04d6]

The voice soothed and cajoled. It pulled on her as strongly as it did the animals within the city. Cats left their hunts, followed by dogs of every size. Rats were next, scampering alongside animals that would normally feast upon them. Lulled by a familial desire to be free. The insects that swarmed around animal faeces suddenly stopped, thought about what they were doing, then started swarming again. Some of nature’s creations were simply too dumb to understand the calling.

He stood watching from atop a hill. His arms hanging at his side as he summoned the animals. His brutish face motionless as he sent out the call again and again. The horror he had borne witness to repeated in the walls before him, the unnatural-ness of it angered him. The animals came then, tearing free of their prisons. Swarming in their numbers. Two by two by two. Cantering, trotting and loping like the Piper of Hamelin was returned.

The swarm of fauna stopped at his feet. Gazing up at their God. The beast that walked like their captors but was nothing at all like them. Dogs nuzzled lovingly at his hands, drawing a smile from his ancient weathered lips. Cats writhed at his ankles, rubbing scent pouches in their faces on his bare legs. Goats and sheep chewed listlessly upon free-grass. Their minds blissful and too stupid to offer any thanks or grace. But he was pleased that they had been brave enough to fight. He walked among them then, his callused hands moving softly over hides and humps. Stroking the ears of cow and dog alike.

He returned his gaze again to the city then, sensing another mind that craved freedom. And called to it.

It started with a basic unease as she completed her patrolling circuit of the smallish village as she pondered her quandry. The addition of three new Apollites, given the way this Julius's emissary acted, gave her cause to avoid them. For the moment. As long as they made no trouble, they were [b:c51519b254]his[/b:c51519b254] problem!

A goat crashed into it's gate, just as she came abreast of it and she unthinkingly reached out and pulled the locking peg from it's seating. The animal bleated a pleased sound and bounded away, to the north. She became aware that many of the villages animals were beginning to make a cacophony of noises, as they made every attempt to follow after the retreating forms of rats, dogs, cats and, even, a pair of camels.

Python recognized the call, when it came again. Freedom! It's promise thrummed a cord so far down inside of her that she bent over and vomited the little blood she'd managed to ingest earlier. Her avatar's bond precluded her from taking when the need was upon her and she was too proud to ask.

Therefore, she'd been forced to feed, and lightly at that, upon what animals she could capture outside the village that came close enough. A third call came, promiseing a paradise she couldn't resist and, reluctantly, she'd left the vicinity of New Enoch and headed into the hills. Just to check out this possible [i:c51519b254]"threat"[/i:c51519b254], she justified it, to still the clamoring for her to return.

It became harder to move away, to slither up that hill. Torn between duty and desire, it was a struggle to go onward. But she kept up the mantra that she was only checking it out, she would return as soon as she had her answers. It helped, but very little.

In the midst of a carpet of all manner of creatures, he walked. Brutish, hairy, yet noble of countenance and mein. He watched her approach with one piercing green eye, yet made no move in her, or the city's, direction. His greeting, when it came, was on a level she'd rarely experienced, even in her own unlife. Snake to Wolf. And it held a world of warmth.

She trembled at the possibility that here stood a potential ally. Someone who knew and understood her, someone who could help her attain what she desired with all her being. [i:c51519b254]"Lykos?"[/i:c51519b254] she breathed involuntarily. Then waited for an answer.

[i:41648e16b8] Sebastopol, The Crimean Peninsula [/i:41648e16b8]

Eveshka stood atop Balaklava heights looking down into the greasy waters of the Black Sea. The Outriders had come again. They had dogged their steps all the way from Kursk straight through until they made their way across the land bridge connecting the Crimea to the mainland.

The last incursion was just last "night" or as near as they could tell that night actually would have been. Two more vampires had fallen to them. They were now down to 10. They had meant to swing to the west to where Eve could feel Julius was. The Outriders had stopped it. There was something else out there too. Something darker, more evil, and much much older than anything she had ever faced.

Tromador was becoming increasingly more volatile. He had actually attacked her during the last assault of the Outriders. She managed to hold him off long enough for him to regain some semblance of sense. Things were not looking well for them.

And so Eveshka stood atop the hill overlooking what once was a beautiful place. The wind whipped through her hair and made her tattered garments billow around her. Then she felt a presence come upon her. At first it was an angelic power she felt. The area around Eveshka was filled with light and warmth.

"Come home with me Daughter," said a softly maternal voice.

Eveshka turned around and beheld a shimmering apparition in white.

"I know you are tired My Daughter. Come home with me," the voice said. "Give in. Stop all of the fighting. Come to me."

"Arikel?" asked Eveshka.

The light subsided and before her stood a woman of mind boggling beauty. "Yes," said the woman. "I am She. I am the progenitrix of our Clan."

Eveshka was silent for a moment. She felt so warm. So loved. So complete. Nothing else in the world mattered. Her vision was torn asunder by the insane yell of a man rushing up behind her. She turned to see Tromador rushing up with his vibrasword unsheathed, a maniacal gleam in his eye. As she turned her head back to look at Arikel, she saw a shadowy blackness with red eyes and shadowy fangs. Sometimes the form seemed corporeal, other times it seemed ethereal. The apparition hissed and attacked Tromador.

When he had initially spied Julius, the obvious fact that the ageless Tremere was wearing what appeared to be an early twenty-first century styled, tailor-made suit did not strike him as odd. A certain sheepishness overcame him as it slowly dawned on him for at least the better part of a century he had worn nothing at all, but perused about in the buff.

His old friend must have sensed his Garden of Eden style revelation and nodded understandingly.

[i:4aee4695cb]"There there Gabriel. Nothing to be ashamed of, we're all adult immortals here."[/i:4aee4695cb] he glanced at two nearby peasants, who had halted their working to stare longingly at the Gods in their presence. [i:4aee4695cb]"Well, except you of course."[/i:4aee4695cb]

They stared back nonplussed for a moment, and then returned diligantly to their toils.

[i:4aee4695cb]"I'm not ashamed per se."[/i:4aee4695cb] Gabriel said. In mid stride, he was suddenly acutely aware of the now unfamiliar sensation of cloth against his skin. He peered in astonishment at his apparel, a light russet colored suit. The affectionate silk molded to his form and created comfortable, pleasing arches and contours. It was a little late in the season perhaps for the color, but in the perpetual greyness in which they found themselves, Gabriel was fairly sure no one would notice.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Consider it a gift."[/i:4aee4695cb] his old friend smiled. His face was marred with burn marks, and Gabriel knew the damage must have been substantial if the potent Tremere couldn't heal them instantly.

He considered asking how he had learned to spontaneously conjure up suits, but briefly thought of how many incredible (albeit unexplained) things he had witnessed the Tremere do and thought better of the question.

Gabriel stripped the tie from around his neck and popped open the top button, unused to the constraint of clothes, let alone a tie. Together, he, Poe, and Katherine followed Julius as he gave them the grand tour.

The Gangrel appeared unimpressed with the burgeoning civilization while the Toreador smiled pleasingly, putting into practice some of her long-forgotten social graces. Gabriel however, peered at each humble dwelling with marvel. Jacob's Flats had been a buffet line that talked, but this...this had potential. As Julius explained the birth of the hamlet and his subsequent care, the Ventrue was already experiencing a resuscitation of hope.

A local Kine scrambled before them, prostrating himself before Julius' finely polished loafers. The Tremere looked on in annoyance.

[i:4aee4695cb]"I can apparently create entire civilizations, but I can't get them to stop that."[/i:4aee4695cb] he murmured over his shoulder. He addressed the peasant, "[i:4aee4695cb]Yes?"[/i:4aee4695cb]

The human, or humanoid, had the appearance of a short, ruddy little figure. His eyes were partially concealed by a large brow and substantial nose. The entire affair was covered in dirt naturally, which he absently swatted at as he spoke to his Supreme Being personified.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Great One! Forgive me, but there's been an accident! The plow has collapsed and trapped some underneath!"[/i:4aee4695cb] the farmer had a distinct glimmer of fear in his eyes, and the Elder Ventrue wondered if it was for his friends or of Julius.

Julius, ever the benevolent diety, relented to the peon's plight.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Take them to their quarters, give them any they please. Make sure they're comfortable."[/i:4aee4695cb] he motioned to the newly arrived Kindred, none of which looked particularly elated to be shuffled off to a makeshift dwelling. [i:4aee4695cb]"Gabriel. Walk with me would you?"[/i:4aee4695cb]

The Ventrue cast a doubtful glare at Kathy and Poe.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Indulge me."[/i:4aee4695cb] Julius smiled like a chesire cat. He began down the dusty path that led to the farmlands with Julius, while Poe and Katherine followed the still shaken farmer dutifully.

They walked at a leisurely pace, despite the apparent urgency of the situation. Julius reassured Gabriel that all wrongs would be righted should they arrive too late. Night would become day, water to wine, yada yada yada...

As they passed the smithy's shop, the rhythmic [i:4aee4695cb]twang[/i:4aee4695cb] of steel upon steel brought a smile to Gabriel's face. Civilization at last.

[i:4aee4695cb]"So let me guess...you're the local diety?"[/i:4aee4695cb] he offered, hands in his pockets.

Julius glanced around at the local townsfolk, trying their best to appear nonchalant and industriously working, not noticing the God amongst them. He smiled affectionately.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Not by the time I'm finished re-educating them."[/i:4aee4695cb] he sighed, [i:4aee4695cb]"It's not my fault. Not this time."[/i:4aee4695cb]

[i:4aee4695cb]"Not your fault? You sure about that?"[/i:4aee4695cb] Gabriel chuckled, peering up at the colorless heavens above.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Yes. Quite sure."[/i:4aee4695cb]

The two fell quiet and resumed their walk. Soon they reached a bluff some distance above the town limits proper. The tiny village was a beehive of activity, shrunken figures scuttling back and forth between their tasks.

[i:4aee4695cb]"I'm glad to see you're alright Julius. I mean...I figured you would be...but...well it's just good to see you again."[/i:4aee4695cb]

[i:4aee4695cb]"I'm not alright Gabriel."[/i:4aee4695cb] it was then Gabriel noticed it. Beyond the scars, Julius had looked strikingly similiar to his old days, but there was a hollowness in his eyes now. A hidden pain and weight. [i:4aee4695cb]"I'm just not alright."[/i:4aee4695cb]

The Ventrue nodded and scanned the same patch of sky as the Tremere.

[i:4aee4695cb]"Is Eveshka here?"[/i:4aee4695cb] he asked at last.

[i:4aee4695cb]"She's on her way, I hope she's ok, she's not been in contact for a while. At least she's alive."[/i:4aee4695cb] he shook his head. [i:4aee4695cb]"So much blood on my hands, that not even the returning sea could wash away the stain of it."[/i:4aee4695cb]

[i:4aee4695cb]"We're all guilty Julius. It's not you alone. We've all committed atrocities."[/i:4aee4695cb] Gabriel thought of Jacob's Flats. He thought of the tiny town that had transformed him into some sort of mythic hero, fighting off the evil bloodsuckers. An image of their rotting, burnt corpses flashed into his head. He blocked it out.

[i:4aee4695cb]"You're kind to say so. Even though it's not true. I did indeed become death, the destroyer of worlds. As was prophecied. Still, it's good to see a friendly face at last. There are those who follow me, those who worship me, those who hate me. It's good to know I still have one friend left."[/i:4aee4695cb]

The Ventrue smiled and Julius replied in kind. Nothing further was said as they walked down the hillside. Both Kindred had experienced vastly different events since their last meeting several hundreds years prior. The world as they had known it had been taken from them, along with much of what they had loved. One was lost, the other burdened with unbearable guilt. But as they waded through the golden ocean of grain towards the farmer's plow, both thought of the future, and for an instant, allowed hope to seep in.

[i:8020d1924f][b:8020d1924f]"JUST GO!"[/b:8020d1924f][/i:8020d1924f] Yelled George, as his vibrosword once again swept ineffectually through the misty form.

Eveshka stood her ground, reaching for a blade which would be as ineffectual as George's perhaps more so. His was at least a product of modern technology, her old and enchanted blades were lost to the passing centuries.

And now too, the outriders had appeared, starting to circle the ragtag group of kindred she had shepherded this far. Tired, starving, inexperienced and unprepared for this kind of existence. The orphan childe she had adopted as her own.

Tromador pirouetted, an uncharacteristic move, unusual for his usual brutal fighting style, spinning on the balls of his feet, his eyes casting a gaze across the group, who suddenly broke and ran. He jumped back, giving himself a moment, turning his gaze upon Eve.

She could see why the others had ran. His eyes glowed deepest red, the power of his dread gaze irresistable to those of any lesser power, yet still she held. [i:8020d1924f]"You will know [b:8020d1924f]FEAR[/b:8020d1924f]!"[/i:8020d1924f] Screamed George and unleashed the full power of his dementation upon her. As her mind collapsed, she saw the fangs of the creature sinking into George's unprotected shoulder and the last of his Inconnu lightbombs being drawn from his jacket pocket. Then the fear overtook her and she ran, her feral mind barely registering the explosion and bright flash of light on the receding horizon.

They all ran, ran like beasts, part of the herd, stampeding from the hunters. Ran until they could run no more, their senses dulled, their limbs heavy, their minds oblivious to their surroundings.

The combination of grief and the after effects of George's madness took time to wear away, before Eve realised to where she had run and to whom she was clinging. Familiar arms held her as she sobbed out her loss and fears. [i:8020d1924f]"Hush, love. It's over now."[/i:8020d1924f] Said Julius.

[i:26c3cdcc91] Several Hours Later [/i:26c3cdcc91]

"We've got to go get him," said Eveshka frantically.

"Evey, you just got here, your blood pool is low, love," said Julius reasonably.

"Then give me a blood stone," she said. "Tromador is out there still, I can feel him. We need to get him."

Julius shook his head. "I can't protect everyone, I can feel the Enemy getting stonger."

"I don't care dammit," she cried. "He saved me.... more times than I can count. I OWE him. If there is any chance at all, I have to get him."

Julius could sense an unwinnable Eveshka tantrum coming on. Albeit, this one was for honorable reasons, it was a tantrum nonetheless. She'd been there for a few hours and already she was ready to go out crusading. Not that Julius falted her passion. In this it was not misguided, just, in his opinion, impractical. Ruling a race of people tended to make one more pragmatic. Were it any other woman, Julius may have felt pangs of jealousy and anger. He knew in his heart that Eveshka was his: always had been, always will be.

"I can't stop you Eveshka," said Julius. "But if you go, I cannot protect you. You will be on your own."

Eveshka looked hurt.

"Evey, what we have here is bigger than you and I," said Julius. "The greater good cannot be jeopardized by my love for you. If you are smart, and I know you are, you should return safely."

Eveshka looked at his still heavily scarred features. In truth he looked more like a Freddie Cruger who had the bone structure of Julius Darrant, than the Julius she knew and loved. He looked away from her. This was the first time the two had been alone together, with her conscious, in over 400 years. He felt her icy blue eyes piercing into his soul. Although he was arguably the most powerful being in the world, potentially the most powerful being the world had ever seen, he quaked under the smoldering gaze she gave him.

She smiled affectionately. "Julius Darrant, you are self-conscious."

"I'm," he began bashfully. "Not exactly how I'd hoped you'd see me."

She gently took his scarred hand and kissed his grotesquely scarred lips.

"I don't care what you look like. I don't care if your scars ever heal," she said warmly. "You are my immortal beloved," she said with a briefly arched eyebrow and a coquettish grin.

He looked away again, his aura showing that he was still self conscious.

"You are still my god," she said. "Am I still your goddess?"

He was silent for a while. His aura was going nuts.

She raised his chin up gently in her delicate hand. She saw that he had blood tears streaking his scarred cheeks. He smiled slightly and his eyes met hers. "Yes," he managed to whisper. "I'm so tired," he said.

"And we can rest together just as soon as I get back," said Eveshka.

With that she kissed him once more gently, but passionately on the lips, and turned away.

**********************************************************

The only vampire that would assist her was her faithful former Seneschal, Louis le Marquis de Montcalm. The two left the east gate of Enoch heading back up into the low hills. They each carried an AK-55 MkVI, wore body armor, and had their enchanted blades belted around their waists. Montcalm was rather thrilled to be on the offensive once again. His 18th century warrior persona had yearned for a worthwhile cause for quite some time. A rescue mission was just the thing.

Eveshka, on the other hand, was not as pleased. This was not how she wished to be attired. She would much rather have gone out in the garb of one of Odin's Daughters, the valkyries. However, in this day and age, that was just not practical. She was a romantic, but she also wished to survive for as long as possible. At least part of her did.

No answer came.

[i:95d256ddca]"Lykos?"[/i:95d256ddca] Python asked a second time but, again, there was no verbal answer. Instead, he reached out and cupped her cheek in the rough palm of his hand. She swayed forward as a warmth, like that of a beam of sunlight, suffused her and she allowed her slitted eyes to close as a calm descended on her bruised mind.

A sough of wind in tree boughs made her open them again and she gazed into one green orb. With a sigh of her own, she fell into it's depths and felt mother earth draw her forward. Suddenly, she stood in a cave that reminded her [b:95d256ddca]so[/b:95d256ddca] strongly of the one she'd made her home in, back in Delphi, deep within Mount Parnassus, that she sank down and stretched her full length upon it's floor.

Within, it was dark and dry, the air redolent of rich loam. As it cradled her body, the soil rose up and dragged her down into it's bossom. With a grateful smile, she gave herself back to the sleep that had been so rudely interrupted. Peace at last.

***********

[i:95d256ddca]"Time to wake up, my Venus. You've had your little nap and Python is back where she belongs. Now you need to get back to your master."[/i:95d256ddca] Cyrilynn sat up, rather abruptly, from the bed of green she'd been lying on, at the stinging slap to her cheek. She rubbed at the burning spot. [i:95d256ddca]"Toisol?"[/i:95d256ddca] she called out as she darted quick looks around, but no one was there. She nearly wept at the loss of the voice she'd not heard in quite a number of years as she drew her knees up and pressed her face into them.

Dizzy with receding memories of the Greek Goddess, and what had happened since Julius had fallen into the mud volcano, along with her subsequent panic, she tried to calculate how long she'd been [i:95d256ddca]"away"[/i:95d256ddca]. When she got even more disoriented, she gave up the effort and managed to make it to her feet. Swaying only a little she took s step in the direction of New Enoch, and missed the figure that loped away from behind her, as well as the rapid disappearance of her grassy pallet.

The one thing that burned uppermost in her mind, and unbeating heart, was that Julius was agitated. And that he needed her. Somewhere in her brief repose it had been imparted to her that he had a goal in mind that encompassed more than herself, him or anything else, for that matter. And that, if she submerged her own wants and needs to accomplish his task, then she would have her heart's desire.

Halting as a wave of nausea swept over her, she knew she needcd to feed... and soon. She'd been without sustenance for too long and even the thought of cow's vitae seemed rather tasty. She stumbled and went to one knee as she glanced around for a possible meal. Then shook her blurring eyesight at a shack that hadn't been there when she'd journyed up the hill. Had Julius created another hut for a newly arrived family?

Arising off of her bruised joint, she ground the heels of her palms against aching eyelids, hoping it would help. It didn't. And, to make matters worse, now the thing had moved!! She had [b:95d256ddca]NOT[/b:95d256ddca] seen it rise up on two thin legs and mince forward until it nestled just behind two other dwellings. Oh no! She'd already gone mad once, she wasn't going to visit that graveyard again!! It was nothing more than blood-starved imaginings. And with that firmly in her mind, she resolutely turned away from the mirage.

Upon entering the village, she found that Chaos had come to call. A distraught Lady Eveshka had finally found them... and then left again. Leaving behind a very troubled magus.

Montcalm and Eveshka stalked up the hilly neck to the Crimean Peninsula. A storm had been brewing on the horizon ever since the two had walked out of New Enoch. They had reached the spot where the Enemy had shown herself again. Charred bits of earth were found, as were craters, and smoking holes. She could feel, like an increase in static electricity, the chaos eminating from somewhere to the west.

"He's over that way," said Eve pointing towards a distant hill. Nearly an hour had passed before they finally got there. Their keen vampiric senses picked up on a god awful screaming sound like a distant murmor on the wind. It grew louder as they climbed the hill.

"It's him isn't it, My Lady," observed Montcalm. Eveshka merely nodded.

"I do not know what to expect," she said.

And there he was.

Tromador thrashed about at unseen foes, drooling like a gibbering fool. He grabbed at his head as if it was in great pain. Laughed. Cried. Screamed. It was horrible.

"Trommy," Eve said softly bringing her fingers to her mouth in terror.

"Courage, Lady Eveshka," said Montcalm.

She looked at him moderately annoyed, she was expressing angst and sorrow, not fear.

"Let's go," she said and walked down the slope towards Lord George Stanley of Latham. Perhaps he was again on Bosworth Field. Perhaps he was fighting the voices. God only knew.

"You need us Georgie Boy," said M with a smirk and his arms crossed. A looked up from his notepad and nodded, then he returned to writing.

Tromador shook his head no. "Leave me alone," he said quietly.

"Leave you alone?" asked M imitating Tromador's voice.

P spoke walked up form behind Tromador. "Why don't we show him just how badly he needs us?"

A looked up and nodded vigorously with a surprised smile on his face.

M cocked an eyebrow and smiled sardonically. He then spoke in a very good rendition of Captain Picard's voice pointing with his index finger in a 'go' motion, "Make it so, Number One."

The three figments of George's imagination vanished. All that he could hear was the wind blowing.

He turned and looked around. It was silent. The voices had stopped. He saw two figures cresting a hill way off to the west. He shook his head. Couldn't be real. To the east he saw another two. To the north, he saw another two. And another and another and another..... Then the whispering started. Loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to make it out.

Tromador turned on his heels trying to lock in on something. ANYthing. The whispering grew louder. The voices were asking him... no, IMPLORING him to do... something. He could not tell what it was. Each of them was pleading wi