IC Story- A Kadins Dream-(Gabriel Wars)
These are the posts, every bit of them, detailing the infamous Gabriel wars. Itsa long story, so Ill try and reduce it down to a few pages, as its ERPA form is 8 pages. NO I wont edit, just more entires in each post.
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(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier awoke with a start. SItting up in her gilded and silken bed, heavily curtained from the rays of the desert sun, she stares blankly out into the soft gloom.

The Dream had been so vivid.

A world of rain and mist, lush greenery yet not a jungle...she knew of no such place in all of Britannia. Coming out of the trees, she saw the man emerge. He was garbed as a hunter...heavily armed, but such weapons as she had never seen before. He passed her closely, and she saw his hair of gold and eyes of winter. A man of the north, perhaps? But no, He did not resemble those of Vesper, or Minoc...He moved like a ranger of Skara Brae, but none of those men seemed so utterly ruthless. There was something strange about him altogether. He seemed to follow the scent of his prey effortlessly.

Intrigued, the Vizier followed him from a careful distance, her cold eyes scanning him....she was silent as a cat....as in most dreams.
Perhaps the hunter would be the hunted. An unpleasant little smile curved her ruby lips, thinking of the chase and his inevitable doom.
And here is where she heard the music..beguiling and mesmeric, luring her...the song of the bards, which normally jarred upon her black soul. Her feet seemed to follow a path of their own as she was drawn closer to the source. It was as though the earth pulsed hypnotically beneath her feet, and she stood silently, allowing this pleasure to wash over her.

A mistake, perhaps.

Without warning, the Hunter stood before her, a snare in one hand, his ice-blue eyes boring deep into her soul. And again, as in a dream, she could not move, her feet glued to the ground, her voice a soundless strangled scream.

"Kadin" he whispered, his voice freezing her blood.

She tried to respond, to tell him who she was.....She, the Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Nujel'm, the Empress of the Lost Lands, diplomat, intriguer of politics, twister of words, Queen of Lies, Ruler of the Poison Isle.....could not speak.

Sitting up in her silken canopied bed, the Vizier shuddered. The superb training in her Uncle's court alone kept her from rising to check the security of her chamber.

"Rubbish" she whispered, and drew the soft covers about her chilled form.

The soft ticking of the timepiece on her mantelpiece mocked her.

"Nonsense!" she cried to the empty room.

It was just a dream.
-----
(Ashoka)
You sleep again comfortable in your own importance knowing that what happened was only a dream.....

He is there waiting for you once again on the ground you have traveled once before the lush green of a place you have never been. Yes you can feel it, it is his place.

He is there a shadow among shadows you can feel his eyes upon you from where you can not see. His presence is near you can feel it your combat senses honed over the years yet you can not see him in the darkness that he lives in.

He is there without warning his ice blue eyes watching you from afar his powerful form steping out of the shadows. He is six feet tall now that you can see him, he wears a pair of hard black boots and deep blue breeches, his chest is bare but he has on some kind of military type jacket hanging loose on his shoulders. He has two tattoos one on each side of his cheast but they are partially covered by the jacket. His skins is pale and his hair is cut close to the scalp.

He moves with the grace of a natural predator the muscles of his bare flat stomach tight and hard. He holds himself at a distance as a smile creeps to his face. His blue eyes never leave you and you feel nude beneath their gaze.

With a movement he steps back into the shadows and is gone from your sight the smile and his ice blue eyes all the remain in your memory....

From the shadow next to you a deep voice wispers...Your dreams are not safe from me.....

You wake once more.
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(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier awakens with the sound of her heart thudding in her ears.
" Shaitsoum!" she curses loudly. Who is this presence that he dares to disturb her sleep!

Sliding from her bed she hastily dons the thick white desert burnoose and steals along the marble corridors of the sleeping palace to the stables. Grabbing a fistful of mane, she leaps aboard her favorite arabian stallion, Selim, bareback, and urges him outside, his delicate hooves clattering over the tiled courtyard until they reach the desert sand. Only the muffled sounds of hoofbeats can be heard as they race along the sand, eating up the miles. The Grand Vizier's thoughts are crowded and confused and she does not realize that her mount is tiring until she hears a low whinny of distress, as Selim tosses his beautiful head and turns great liquid eyes to her, his powerful chest heaving. She slows him to a walk....and then dismounts, leading him to the water's edge, and allowing the great beast to drink as she soothes him.
Her silhouette seems fragile compared to the horse, as they stand under the silver light of the huge pale moon. She forces herself to composure. She will speak to the one known as Lord Qurant, the one who stands in some sense almost as a father to her. A renowned scholar, Lord Qurant....one who is sure to know if this is some sort of sorcery. If it is sorcery, it would easily be dealt with, she decides confidently. Surely the wealth of the Asp would be enough to pay off some necromancer to dispatch this demon of her dreams. Surely her own strengths were enough to defeat it's insolence! She was not without some knowledge of magic, after all!

Forcing herself to face her fear, she dwells on the etched details of her two dreams now. She supresses a shudder, her delicate face hardening with anger.
" You fear only the unknown, " she can hear her Uncle say, " therefore thee must turn always and face it, that thee might know thy enemy , learn it, and thus destroy it."

A very wise old man, she thinks now, as she strokes the satiny neck of Selim. And yet does her acknowledgement of this golden haired, ice-eyed demon, not give it strength?

"Bah!" she scoffs loudly into the waiting night.

She was not some weak-willed kadin, eager only to please. She was a leader of men, and she would not allow this Dream Predator to steal another moment of her peace. A sudden eddy of wind swirls the sand and it sounds like a whisper, mocking her. She bites her lip and glances around, realizing she is without a guard. Patting Selim's neck once more, she mounts with the lithe grace of the bedhouin and gently trots the stallion homewards, her chin lifted with great determination....a proud, cold smile pinned to her lips.
The sleepy stable slave gapes at the dishevelled and barefoot Vizier as she hands over the reins to him. Calmly she orders the slave to give Selim an extra measure of feed, and returns regally to the palace, where one can hear her berating the dozing guards with the sharp end of her tongue, and shouting for her slaves to draw the first bath of the day.

As she slips back into her silken bed to await her bath, she whispers...
"Utter rubbish."
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(Vik'tor)
The day has gone well. You are back in control and though your tongue has been sharp you are all cool arrogant control once more. A small smile touches your lips thinking of how silly it was to be disturbed by something as simple as a dream.

You glance out across the desert and your domain as night approaches. Soon the sun will be down and the shadows will rise. The smile of a few moments ago fades as you remember the darkness of your dream and of those eyes upon you...looking into you. You whispers to your self again " Rubbish" and go on about your evening events comfortable in your superiority.

It is late upon your arrival back to your suits. You change as you always do but something feels wrong. You glance about your chambers and the shadows feel deeper and the thoughts of the night before return. Your throat tightens and your stomach feels like steel. You let your ruby lips lower into a frown as you remind yourself in silence that you are master of all you see and these thoughts and fears are for lessor creatures.

You move from your dressing chamber and into your sleeping room. Your legs strong, your body a marvel for others to see and as always your chin high and determined. A good nights rest and you will be happier for it. You slide your lithe form into the bed and settle yourself in. You whisper to yourself to steel your reserves as you slip off to sleep "I fear nothing in this world"...

You are standing in an Oasis, the water look cool and the trees around it green. The desert is cool and the shadows are deep amongst the brush that lives close to the water.

From across the water you see him step out of the shadows his form moving like a night leopard. He stops and looks at you across the water his ice blue eyes hard and sharp.

With slow steps he moves around the perimeter of the Oasis. His eyes holding you as if he hunts prey. He holds no weapons nor does he carry any that you can see. His approach towards you can be felt deep in you as his eyes never leave yours.

As he draws near he stops and look at you head to toe. His blue eyes hold you as if you were nude and you can feel his hunger. He whispers..." I am coming for you. Can you feel me yet?"

You wake in the same state of panic you woke the night before...
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(Ashoka)
* letter, carefully engraved and sealed with elaborate care, delivered by the Vizier's beloved Gyrfalcon, Gringolet.. a snow white bird with emerald jesses, to a location unknown to any but her, to the mysterious man known as Qurant L'Korith of Clan V'Lorea*


Mon pere:

We must ask to speak with thee upon a matter of Utmost Urgency. Naturally We know thee would deplore any state of mind other than calmness, and We must ask ourself why We are not at peace. Perhaps this matter will seem most trivial to thee. In that case We can rest easier. To summarize for thee, We have been plagued with fierce dreams (here she recaps the events of the past three nights).
We shall await either thy presence in the usual spot, or We would ask that thee correspond, should this be not convenient to thee, as soon as thee might.

In great affection and respect;
A.N.


The letter does not fall into the wrong hands, Grygolet being most well-trained...but had it done so, many would have wondered at the affectionate tone, and the lack of arrogance.
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(Vik'tor)
The sand does not shift in the least as his from rises out of the ground for his slumber beneath. He glances about looking at the desert around him and smiles. " It has been a long time since I walked among the dunes"

His form shivers as is shifts. Slowly and with precise detail where once stood the form of a man, now stands that of a highlands wolf. Odd to be seen in this landscape it leaps forward its long strides eating up the miles as he heads towards his prey. The beasts ice blue eyes are alert and steady as they scan the country side during its run.

Stopping only once in its nine hour run does it feed. Upon the desert lizard before it knew what was there he tears out its throat with powerful jaws and sharp canines. Once the creature is near death the wolf drinks of the life's blood to feed its hunger. With the blood of its prey upon its fur the wolf leaps back into action and heads toward the one known as Ashoka....the prey he seeks is near.
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(Gyann)
Sitting at her desk in the witching hours of the morning shuffleing thorugh the many diplomatic papers, requests for audience, and demands of trade rights, Gyann rubs her red rimmed eyes, seeking to detatch herself from all this political rubbish for a short time.

She gracefully rises from her desk and glides over to the balcony to look at the beautiful desert night to perhaps find some peace from the worry of realm business. She throws open the magnificent glass doors, the candles flicker and dance in the cool desert air. Forgetting her wrap she gazes over the serine landscape.

She notices a figure rideing slowly towards the palace, she furrows her brow. Who could be moveing about in the open this time of night? Surely no one would dare seek entry at this hour. the figure become clearer now in the form of a great white arabian with a small figure mounted back straight, chin high... it is Ashoka.

Pressing her lips in consurn she watchs her approach the stables and order her slaves care for selim. "Hmmm sister is restless again moving in the night as she did before." She scans the area for Fatima, she is usually not far from her mistress with her herbs and potions, but sees her not, she breaths a sigh of relief. "No, this is not the threat of nealoth reborn.... however, sister is dreaming again....

She glides over to the fire with purpose, strips off her clothes and sits naked in frount of the fire, legs folded under her, she begins her meditation she will stregthen and reweave the wards she has placed in the case that this disturbance in her sisters sleeping is a real threat, her dreams have proven a interlude before great danger in the past.....
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(Ashoka)
The Vizier paces the floor of her chamber. She will not sleep this night. Gryngolet has brought no message back. She can feel the Prince's brother near his destination, and....she can feel a larger threat looming. She kicks viciously at her sleeping maid.
" Wake up, Fatima!"
The maid does not awaken, and the Vizier furrows her brows. What is causing this unnatural sleep? She can see the girl is alive. Scowling, she crosses to the open windows and gazes out over the silvery desert.
"Mon pere, do not fail us..." she whispers, concentrating on him, sending her thoughts.

She checks her dagger. It is encrusted with jewels...but lethal, dipped in the poisons of Naeloth. She would not go easily to her doom. She would call the guards, but somehow she knew this would be a futile gesture and a waste of blood.
And outside, she hears the baying of a wolf. Her eyes widen, because there are no wolves on the island. She tightens her jaw and glides across the room to the bay alcove, standing with her back to it, prepared.
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(Vik'tor)
He approaches the haven the mortals call a city and stops he sits back on his haunches and raises his snout to the air and lets his howl be heard. He moves towards the shadows, his true home and his form shimmers as the wolf is gone and nothing but the shadows remain.

A shadow he moves between the dark places of this city that his prey calls home. His destination is unknown but he can feel her and the call of her draws him towards her. He knows little so he calls on his centuries of battles and the wars with the Garou. He is a battlemaster of his time and his prey will be his.

He steps from the shadows allowing his form to become solid once more. He stands a short distance from the building he knows she is in and watches. He is been out of the ground for a long time this night he feels the pull to return. A whisper escapes his lips as he thinks..." She will not go far. In her arrogance she does not think I can reach her here. She had been given bad advice from those who think to protect her..."

His form slowly slides into the earth for the rest he seeks.
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(Qurant)
Sitting alone in some remote tower, the man known as Qurant reads the letter that recently made its way to his haven. His face remains calm and stoic as he takes in the nightmares before him. With what seems like an eternity of patience he begins to scribe his response to the Visier:

Hinamin,

Events as of late disturb me greatly. I have caught wind of a dark future coming, and these dreams of yours do not sit well with me. I suggest you make your way to my manor, where we can speak at greater length. You know how I abhor communicating through these birds. I await your arrival.
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(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier of Nujel's slender form sags in relief. Calling on her training, she straightens herself and prepares for the journey. She glances around, certain the shadows thicken about her. Using the greatest stealth, she slips through the open windows into the night, feeling the earth sigh as she lowers herself to the ground. She steals into the stables and mounts Selim, racing far far far away..to the one who can give her guidance. She keeps looking around as dark hair whips about her pale face, scanning the sands for any sign of.....him...it....

Her voice is a feral scream, borne away on the wind..

"Thee shall NOT have Us!"

She arrives safely at the hidden place, and composes herself, letting herself in to Qurant's manor.
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(Gyann)
the wardings have been disturbed....
Gyann hears the distant call of what sounds like a wolf.

*furrows brow* she has heard this type of call once before but yet it is not the same. It is not Ra'Karn.

Earlier she obsurved the Vizier rideing for Mon Pere's manner, few people take that road for Mon Pere can be most frightening, and some do not returne..

She steals down to the Viziers chambers to find Fatima in an unatural stupor sprawled on the floor. She passes her hand over the young girls face, Silently she carrys the girl to a private chamber where she will not be discovered by the other servants. Falhalin are very superstitous they would flee the palace in terror, gossiping of wraiths, and zombies.

She knows somthing of this speicies... she goes to her sisters jewlry box
closeing her eyes in concentration, muttering incantations, she picks up each peice and raises it to the riseing sun then kisses it gently and replaces them to the box of jewels.

She walks tired now to the her sisters desk, scrawls a quick not and places it on her dressing table.

Sister, if what stalks you is what i think it is, look to your jewels, tap them once, and carry the blinding light of the sun with you, it may buy you time.
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(Vik'tor)
The air stirs just slightly as his form rises out of the ground. He looks around to make sure he does not need to deal with anyone who might have seen his arrival. As all is quiet he then turns his ice blue eyes on the place she was lastnight. His head shakes as he whispers..." You can run little one but you can not hide."

He stops as he feels the presence of the arcane and he frowns, He thinks that must be the witch he has felt the last few night. Silly mortals to employee such crafts. He steps into the shadows his form fading into it.

His form moves among the shadows though the streets and into the place where she lives. He watches from the shadows his ethereal form unseen as he surveys the site. He watches the few who are about at this hours and pays special attention to the witch as she leave the sleeping chambers. If his form could it would smile but he considers this a wasted thought. He moves back outside near the spot he rose from this night and lets his form become solid once more.

Well, if she ran she will return. they always return and I shall be here when she does. Perhaps she shall bring me some others to play with...

He lets his form sink back into the ground but not in the same spot as the night before and he is gone.
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(Gyann)
Gyann sits in thought.....

The unnatrual presence has been within the palace walls for two eves now...

Each morning she has counted the servants.. none missing...

It is not feeding.... realization dawns on her tired mind....It is male...

She closes her soft green eyes and summons her owl. She taps her quill impatinetly thinking how she would compose this particular letter.



Sister...

As you are most likely aware there is an unnatural presence with in the palace walls, it appears to be hovering in the vacinity of your chambers. I have removed Fatima and she is beginning to stir...

He has been here two eves now and has yet to feed. It appears sister your dabblings in the unnatrual and your close association with our most honored Mon'Pere has attracted a suiter in the rut.

I have taken steps to annoy and repel him, however they have been less than effective.. no doubt due to his current state.

I can do nothing else as his interests do not lie in feeding. he will not be denied by the likes of me. He must be lured to Mon"Pere's mannor where you and the Elder may deal with him, before the female servants start vanishing.

I have sent the Kadin to the Winter palace, and I myself am loathed to leave my chambers. I have cancelled all audiences and diplomatic meetings, untill further notice. Hurry sister i sense hiim getting restless.

Your Loveing Sister

Gyann


........She fastens the message to her courior and sends him flying into the night....

She colapses on the chair in frount of the fire, wraps herself in a woolen robe, the nights have grown much to cold.
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(Ashoka)
* A Letter to the Lady Gyann*

Dear Sister, thee surely worry overmuch...We shall return to the palace this day. We are of the Naz'Rudin, We will face Our fear.
Do not underestimate Our ability to do so. Stand firm. The thing that seeks Us is known now to Us. The good Lord Qurant and Lord Garod have assured us of their Aid should it be required.

A.N.
--
(Ashoka)
After inscribing the encouraging words to her sister of the heart...the Vizier settles back on the tiled floor of the secret mansion. Her words are bravado.
She had overslept this day, and missed the meeting she needed to discover the nature of the creature. Lord Qurant had advised her against returning to the Palace without him. But would Lord Garod see this as a slight since she missed the meeting? The unnatural sleep imposed against her will must have been the work of the creature. He must somehow know of her plans, creeping unwanted to her thoughts as he did.

The Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Nujel'm sits on the floor, and broods.
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*
Hutula is offline

Re: IC Story- A Kadins Dream-(Gabriel Wars)
(Ashoka)
The Vizier had slept finally, no dreams presenting themselves to disturb her rest, although a sharp unknown longing seemed to pierce her black soul. Perhaps it was just a hunger..and she took steps to appease it. It did not allay the nagging ache.
Frowning, she looks about the Manor and ponders her choices. She should seek out Lord Garod, and hope that he was not insulted by her inability to attend the meeting planned. His castle was not far. It should be safe here, for such a short distance. And then, if all was well, she must return to Nujel'm today. Selim was swift, and the dim lights of Malas would protect her, she felt. If this was a creature of the night, as it appeared to be, then the blinding sun of Nujel'm would keep it at bay. So the only danger was here in this land.

She had the strangest feeling about the creature. What sort of desire did it seek to appease? Was it mere lust?

" Bah, it is no match for Us." she scoffed to herself. "It thinks we are weak-willed and will learn to its cost that we do not succumb to the wiles of men."

Her lips tighten in a frown. But what if it's desires were of an unholy nature? What if it sought to slay her...or worse?
Was mon pere correct when he said it was possibly a tool of an enemy, seeking to bend her to their will?
Her chin lifts again. It would find no easy prey. It might be a battle to the death, but she would prevail, somehow.

She hoped.

She lets herself out of the manor and feeds Selim a bag of grain.

" We must ride swiftly, old friend", she murmurs as she strokes his satiny neck.

The Grand Vizier mounts...and begins her journey.
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(Vik'tor)
He rises from the ground as the night calls him. His blue eyes scan the surrounding area to make sure no kine had seen his arrival. He does not take the shadows but starts to roam looking for something to feed on. A slight smile touches his lips as he think about going to dine on the arcane witch..."the taste of her on my lips..." But he happens upon a female mortal in the halls before he can act on his thoughts and his hunger is sated.

He carries the form of the young woman to a place she will be found. Her shallow breath showing that he only fed and did not claim her life. He whispers " Your vitae though sweet does not rouse me like she will" He moves into the shadows and begins his rounds of the building as he did the night before.

He can feel the barriers as he passes through them. The one known as Gyann is good, his old friend would have thought about bringing her over if he still lived. The shadows are thick in the sitting room where the fire burns and he watches the witch sit and look into the flames. She is different then the other kine and with her powers she serves the one he seeks. Once again his thoughts turn to tasting her blood but he remains only to watch. His powers over the arcane are powerful but he does not wish to engage in combat until he must.

With a thought he shifts through the shadows to a much lower level below the earth and his form becomes solid again. He looks in the direction of his prey..."Ashoka, I am here waiting for you. I know you can not resist the urge to return, and I will be here"

Fed and ready he lets himself sink into the earth once again. Once settled he closes his eyes and reaches out with his mind to touch her dreams again and play with her there....
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(Garod)
Closing his eyes Garod settles into the neatly folded, luxurious blankets of the bed which was provided for him. Immages flicker across the closed lids of his eyes in a blurr of flashes. Taking controll of the torrent which would have sweapt away a lesser he calms the sea of memories and thoughts. Slowing it untill he can sift through layer upon layer at his leisure and arranging it to his wishes. Smells and sounds play and replay in his head emotions tantilize the nerves in his mind. Surprise almost geting the better of him he wrenches up his wards as he suddenly realizes that he is not alone anymore. He had not expected the unwelcome guest to put in an appearance this quickly. The presance of the intruder is strong, stronger than anything he had felt in a long time. Taking a deep breath he smells old and musty earth. His ears pick up the minute sounds the silent intruder makes. Anoyance at not being able to see passes through Garods mind but is set asside by iron controll. The aura of power increases inside the room and hunger flairs in the deep recesses of his mind. Yes he knew this hunger very well for he felt it himself long ago. Asserting himself he calms the hunger untill it is but a nagging in the furthest recesses of his mind. He will give into it later at his convenience. Then he watches at the edge much like a voyeur as the intruder playes his games. Observing but not interfering with his obvious pleasure. There is no danger in the games played this night and thus no need to reveal himself. Garod had to admit to himself that there was some part of him which enjoyed watching the hunt run it's course and felt some sorrow at it ending. Slowly the aura of power begins to fade as if dissapearing into the earth and Garod smiles inwardly well pleased with himself at not being discoverd. He has learned some interesting facts this night and is one step closer to turning the hunter into the hunted yet caution prevents him from becoming too overbearing there is still much work to be done.
Opening his eyes he stares sightlessly at the cealing of the four poster bed contemplating what he will do next.
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(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier sighs in satisfaction as she settles into her perfumed and bubbly bath. Her smile lingers as she thinks of the work she has wrought this day. Both of the Elders were safely ensconced within the palace. It was most generous of them to offer protection from the creature. The thorough sweeping search of her chamber had revealed little...a hair (her own)..a piece of cloth (the Vizier smiles as she recalls how that got there), and a small bit of soil, apparently from the creature's boot, or shoe. Lord Garod could only sense great age and great power from this clue.
Apparently, she had learned, this creature was a vampire, and very very old. He was also a rogue vampire, for had he not entered her mind and her chamber without permission?
The very little bit of lore she knew of the Vampire, stated most clearly that they could not (by their own laws) enter your home without your bidding. So he was a rebel. Which meant he would not hesitate to break other laws, whatever they might be.
She knew that many vampires seek power, and power was what she had in abundance. Did it seek to rule her?
The Vizier laughs softly, knowing many had dared to try, and had not lived to tell the tale.
Did it seek to slay her? But what profit was there in that? For it would surely be hunted down like a dog if it did so.
Why was she the target? For surely there were plenty of others, easier prey, less well-guarded, than she? Perhaps it enjoyed a challenge?
The thoughts swirl through her head, as the steamy water swirls around her body. So many possibilities, for the creature's motives.
Well, she had taken what measures she could, and must await the outcome.

The scented water made her drowsy, and she drifts off to sleep.

* She is startled to find a great wolf before her. She is still in her bath and she reaches for a towel to cover her form, but can find none. Haughtily she stares at the wolf, remaining deep in the water. The wolf fixes its red-hued gaze upon her, never wavering and not moving.
She manages to whisper.." There are no wolves in Nujel'm, thou art a dream"
The wolf growls....but low, barely heard. It rises on its haunches and circles her once, twice...then stops at her head, and she can feel its hot breath on her face and neck. It seems to inhale her scent...and she can hear the deep mocking laugh of triumph of the hunter*

The Vizier awakens with a stifled scream, and gazes wildly about the hammam. The bathing chamber is empty except for the slight sounds of water trickling. Her heart is pounding so loudly she can hear it, and she steps out of the bath, grabbing the towel that is there now, but was not in her dream. Composing herself, she looks around as she wraps the towel around her form.
And her heart freezes...as she sees wet wolf tracks surrounding her bath.
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(Vik'tor)
His mind lets go of the image and he is back deep in the earth. He can feel the others presence. He thinks to himself he may be forced to deal with the one trying to watch his movements. In a thought he expends the blood needed to hide himself from the arcane eye.

His from flows through the earth as if he was flying he must make sure that his sleeping form is not found during the hated daytime hours. As he flows through the earth his mind returns the scent of her and how the touch of her mind feels. She thinks she has power yet she does not understand that which hunts her.

Once he is hidden once more he settle back to think...."I should have tasted the witch...no, that would have driven Ashoka into a rage. She has brought her protectors here, she is feeling safe and without fear. Yet...she still does have a clue what it is I seek. Money, power, lust....death, control is such a silly term when one thinks about it. What do we control in the end...

He closes his eyes once more and reaches out pulling her back into the world of dreams. This time he thinks he will hold her there awhile....
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(Ashoka)
The Gangrel Elder had come. Tremere, V'Lorea, and Gangrel ranged about her protectively, like chess pieces, preparing for this battle. The Gangrel warns her of another threat that looms. The Daemon Gabriel and his minions have not been quelled, and are even now on the way to Nujel'm. Gabriel had consumed part of a vampire, and now he too had the powers of Blood. Now he too sought to conquer her. She wondered which Hunter would reach the prey first.
The Grand Vizier laughs joyously and softly, never so alive as when facing danger. She cups her chin in one delicate hand, musing.
If the Dream Stalker was as Lord Garod feared, a methusalen from before the shattering of the Gem of Immortality, they would be sorely pressed to vanquish him. Could he be used, she pondered....to vanquish the Daemon Gabriel to the void?
She feels the heavy pull of the call to sleep. Taking a deep breath she resists the call. She has a letter to write, and she does so, though her scribing goes slowly as dark eyes grow heavy. Summoning the last of her strength of mind, she shuts out the voice and issues a great number of orders to her councillors, leaving out no detail, though her limbs grow leaden with fatigue.
Moving slowly to her chamber, she disrobes herself, having dismissed her maid. She pulls on a light golden robe, the gossamer silk flowing about her tanned body. Ignoring the insistent summons in her mind, she combs out her hair, letting it spill like satin over her back. She sets the jewelled hairbrush down with a deliberat, though sluggish motion.
" Now, " she murmurs defiantly. " Now We come to thee, Hunter, and thee shall give Us answers."

The Vizier slips into her bed, and before her head touches the feather pillow, she sinks into sleep.
-------
(Gabriel)
He sits on a throne, if you could call it that. Made of human bones, the ground before him is littered with dead bodies, pilled on top of each other. The smell, so vile, it could make a man fall to the ground in a heart beat. He has had many names, but the one he goes by now is Gabriel.
Letting his mind reach in to the layers of time and space, he sees.
His eyes open.
"So this one would take away my prize? Would take away the one i wish to controll?"
He sits back, anger clear on his face.
A lone man walks in to the room covering his nose and mouth, trying to hide form the smell.
"My lord, your armies are ready, shall I give the order?"
Gabriel looks up to the man if you could call it that more like looking through the man past the outside shell, deep in to his core.
He thinks for a moment before speaking.
"No, there is one who is said to be more powerfuly then the elders. I will take this vampire's soul and add it to my own"
The lone man looks down before speaking.
"My lord I wish not to anger you, but shouldn't we take Trinsic now like you planned?"
Before the man ever looked up he was dead, his head hanging upside down form the spin, held fast in Gabriels hand.
He beings the head to eye level and looks deeply at it.
"I am the strongest, there is no one greater then me, I have servived eons!! My power is unbound. No one is stronger then I and I shall prove it by added this little being to my soul, and taking his power!"
The head smashed on the wall spilling its contents on bodies below.
He looks up and screams to gods he does not believe it.
"Know my name and fear it!! I am Gabriel!!"
--------
(Ra'Karn Moon)
He sits on a throne, if you could call it that. Very old oak and bearly standing., the ground before him is littered with weapons, pilled on top of each other. The smell, so sweet, it could make a man rise from the ground in a heart beat. He has had many names, but the one he goes by now is Ra'Karn Moon.
His body battered and broken, he tries to rest to force his body to heal its self. The war with Gabriel was taking its toll on him and he knew it. Once a pround man now a beaten one. Ra'Karn throught nothing about dying in battle but in these times he had found many reason to stay alive, but he could feel something in the back off his mind telling him his time was coming to an end. the Gangrel elder sat back in to the old throne inside one of Ashoka towers. He had picked a small room out of the way where things where stored, He would stay the night heal up the other elders could take care of anything that needed to be done. He soon would return to the front lines of the armies in malas to once again fight off Gabriels advancing legions.
A knock at the door and a small women enters, being hit by the smell of the sweet candles which gave small light to the room.
"Forgive me my lord, I bring word form a follow he says your armies our ready, and should he give the order to attack?"
Ra'Karn looked up to the woman, if you could call it that, more like looking through the woman, past the outside shell, deep in to her core.
He thinks for a moment before speaking
"No, there is one who is said to be more powerfuly then the elders. I will return to malas once Garod has worked out who this new threat is.
"Yes my lord i shall send word back."
The serving girl looks down before speaking.

"My lord I wish not to anger you, but Lady Ashoka has asked that you take a bath."
The womens face was becoming redder by the moment.
He laughs, it has been a time since he has done that.
"Then I shall little one. I will be out in a moment."
The women leaves giggling as she goes.
He stands, pain ripping through his body, he knocks a close-by table throwing a boll of water to the wall, its contents on flowing down on to the foor below.
He looks up and whispers to gods he does not believe in.
"Know my name and help me, I am Ra'Karn."
-------
(Gyann)
Sitting in frount of the fire..


Her eyes fly open.. its right behind her.. she sits still as a corpse. Silently slowly she begins rolling her fingers summoning drawing from the fire..
she will not go into the dark without a fight.

Suddenly its gone... she relaxes her shoulders slightly...she sits up the rest of the eve.

She watches the sun rise... relieved she glides over to the balcony to welcome the morning sun to see her sister rideing in with the elders...

whats this?... perhaps they come to lure it away at last surely they will not deal with it here in the palace. what of the servants? thank the prophet she sent the kadin away.

she makes her way down the corridor some hours later to meet with the newly arrived visitors, whats this? brow furrowed she approaches the crumpled figure in the corner..hmmmm... *she taps her chin in thought* he did not but taste.. very interesting.. she picks up the girl and carries her to the chaples "the private ones" wraps her up in linen, she administers herbs to sate her fitful unnatrual slumber... she then sits on the floor in frount of the idols legs folded lithly under her.. she closes her eyes drawing from the
many sorces of her elemental powers emitting serine peace and contentment, reaching, spreading, happiness, ease, love, contentment calming always calming....

Somewhat later she crawls exhausted up the stairs she will sleep in the shadow of an elder this morn, perhaps she can rest, as the night will always be wakeful till it comes to pass the purpose of this intrusion. Letting herself in the room, not careing if the elder is about or not, not really even knowing which one it is, curling up in the nearest chair and surrenders to a deep slumber. Occlumancy is a very useful skill.
-----
(Vik'Tor)
Ashoka's eyes open and she is sitting in a room made of black stone. The room has rich royal blue carpet and several wooden chairs that look to be very old and well made. There are three large windows in the walls and they are open to the air outside. She walks over and looks outside and find that she is in a tower several hundred feet up in a castle high in the mountains. The snow covered peaks around the one the castle is upon are slightly lower and the temperature is well below zero both outside and in the room.

The door swings open against the wall and he walks into the room. He stands six foot tall and his form is that of a human in his early thirties. He is dressed in hard black boots and royal blue breeches, his chest bare with the exception of the two tattoo's on his chest he wears a military jacket the covers part of each tattoo.

His ice blues eyes look at your from head to toe. You feel almost as if you are nude before his gaze. His eyes touch yours and you feel them bore into you. His voice is even and strong as he speaks.

" You have run a great deal this past week little one. I do hope you have gathered those you feel can protect you in your home...."
--------
(Ashoka)
The Vizier is suprised to find that she can both move and speak, unlike in previous dreams. She rises to her full height, which is still diminuitive compared to him.
"We demand thy name, hunter." she declares in a voice meant to be imperious but somehow comes out rather breathless.
He does not answer. His eyes continue to imprison hers.
She lifts her chin defiantly.
"We demand to know thy purpose. We weary of this game thee play." She seats herself on one of the old wooden chairs, her manner languid and sneering, her regal bearing stiff and unyielding.
His silence continues.
"We do trust thee have arranged for some comfort for Us? This.....hovel...lacks." Her voice is petulant as her finger traces the wood carving on the chair, showing dust.
He moves closer to her, and drags her from the chair, his fingers like a steel band on her delicate wrist.
His finger runs down her cheekbone to her neck and he finally speaks.
"You know who I am....I heard your call, little one. I have many names, but call me..Vik'tor."
"We will call thee DEAD for this outrage, dog!" She hisses furiously.
His laugh rumbles in his powerful chest. "You do amuse me, little one."
She tries to jerk away but his fingers encircle her neck and he holds her fast.
His voice is flat and deadly as he murmurs, " I smell your fear, Ashoka. I smell the scent of those you called to protect you. I cannot see them, but rest assured, they will not keep me from my prey."
He places a finger on her lips as she moves to expostulate and deny her fear.
"You were naughty to run from me, little girl. You are alone here, in my power, with none to protect you. Where are your armies? Where are your protectors?"
He sweeps her up into his arms in one powerful movement and carries her to the windows.
His voice is a seductive whisper in her shell-like ear.."You are in my domain now, Ashoka Naz'Rudin, Grand Vizier of...Nothing and Nowhere.....where will you run this time?"

With that, he drops her into a chair and leaves the room and she can hear the click as the door locks.

The Vizier stirs uneasily in her unnatural sleep, obviously troubled by dreams once more.
--------------
(Vik'tor)
He moves down the tower to the main parts of the castle. His servants ghouled long ago and ancient in their own right move about their business. He looks at the one known as Timm " you will start a fire for her and keep it strong. If she hungers allow her what she wishes but stay out of arms reach of her." He turns to go and then stops looking over his shoulder " Timm, when her attitude reduces tell her I will speak with her once more. Till then I will hold her here"

He moves forgetting Timm as soon as the conversation is over. His form, as solid as solid marble, moves through the castle. He can not return to his body without releasing her and he is not yet ready to send her back. As he wonders he lets his mind slip back a few centuries to the last women he hunted like he has this one...." well time goes on and some survive and others do not. I should be ready in case her protectors come seeking her" With a thought he allows for the expenditure of the blood needed to keep his form hidden beneath the earth from both the physical and arcane. With that he sits back and waits to see how long it will take her highness to break down and ask for him...
--------
(Ashoka)
The Vizier sits in her chair, completely uncowed, marvelling at the clarity of this dream. A wicked smile curves her lips. What a charming power this would be. To be able to transport her so dear brother by affection, the so good Duke of Trinsic...into flights of terror and despair. How Utterly delightful.
She cannot seem to wake herself, so she moves to the door, startled by the entrance of some disgusting servant. However, the minion only brought fuel for a fire, and she allowed him to build one in silence.
He seemed to hesitate before he left, as if awaiting an order.
The Vizier regarded him coldly.
"Bring us some books and writing parchment, and a quill and ink, " she demands imperiously.
" No orders" the ghoul rasps.
The Vizier stamps her little foot in frustration.
"Ah bah, always it is the same with men. They desire always to force one to bow to their wishes!"
She regards the creature through narrowed eyes then speaks in a soft dangerous voice.
"Thy Master provides poorly for Our entertainment. Tell him We desire to speak with him, fellahin."
-------
(Vik'tor)
The servant Timm arrives in the study. " Master she asks for paper a quill and also asks to see you" with a waive of a hand the servant is dismissed. He sits a few moments letting his mind finish that which he thought about when interrupted. It has been an age since he last thought of her...but now is not the time. He rises and moves towards the door knowing that this is but a dream of his home by pure power of will he makes it as solid as reality is for the lessor kindred he holds aloft.

The door swings open without a sound and he steps in letting his eyes settle on the one called Ashoka. "I am glad to see you have tamed your attitude little one" Knowing the response this will have he moves swiftly to trap the flying wrist as the hand arches to strike him. He tosses her a few feet back and closes the door behind him.

He moves toward the window to the right and leans back against the seal. His ice blue eyes look at her and a smile touches his lips. You notice as he leans his arms back behind him the two tattoo's are shown in detail. The one on his right breast centered on the peck of his chest is a very dark black symbol of the Anarch. The one over his left breast is a circle with three mastiff type dogs running and inside the circle behind the dogs are the symbols of the old clans of the Kindred.

She moves with the grace that is her due taking a seat not letting him see that she is off balance here in this place. He dark eyes look at him as if he was as low as the servant he had sent to her a short while back. " Tell me why you have taken me here dog* said in a cool superior voice *" She holds her back tight and straight willing herself to power over him.

" You are here for my interests, I could feel you and so I came to you. Your desire to be touched is thick in your mind little one." He moves with the same fluid movements as a cat , he comes to stand before her. "Why do you fight so hard that which you desire so much?" He grabs her arms pulling her to him his lips touching hers in a kiss....
-----
(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Nujel'm, Leader of Armies, Queen of Lies and Poison, goes limp in the Creature's embrace.
Perhaps that should have warned him, as his lips attempted to subdue her.
One hand viciously clawed his face, leaving four thin red lines of blood, and with her other hand, a dagger lept out, it's poisoned blade touching the tip of his throat. A savage snarl curls her lips as she hisses...
"Release Us, thou insolent Swine!"
Her anger deepens as she sees real laughter in his ice-blue eyes.
"Pedar Sak! Shaitsoum! Algul!" she hurls the curses at him.
He leans forward and his lips are almost touching hers, the knife point still at his throat. Red rage colors her vision as she lunges forward and viciously bites his lower lip, causing it to bleed. Her wrist is again imprisoned in steel, denying her the ability to slit his neck. With ease he forces her to drop the dagger and stamps on it with his heavy boot, snapping the blade in two.
She finds herself released, as he throws back his head and laughs.
Her heavy scowl mars her features as she glowers at him, then her back straightens once more, and she wipes the blood from her lips with an attitude of disdain.
He notices the gesture and his smile deepens.
"As I said, you do amuse me, little one."
His hand raises and she tenses, waiting for a blow, but she only hears the word.."Sleep"....and the Grand Vizier crumples to the floor in slumber.

She awakens in her own bed in the palace, her servants hovering and exclaiming in wonder. She had been asleep for nearly 24 hours, and none could wake her. Dismissing them, she awaits the Elders, to see if they had discovered anything of value. She knows it was a dream....only a dream...
And she wonders why her wrist is bruised.
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*


(Ra'karn Moon)

Bone rips through bone like a knife through paper
The bladed Claw of Ra'Karn Moon rips through the skull of one of Gabriels minons.
Two more attack form behind, but Ra'Karn had smelt them before they got close. There footsteps too lound, and the way they moved he knew who they where and what they had planned before they even started moving. Turning on the spot with axe held out, letting the force of his own turn swing the axe, he cuts through both men. Upon looking they where not human but one a drow, the other what looked like a savage. He looks over the battle field, his forces had taken a blow today, but they where forceing Gabriels masses back.
Ra'Karn felt uneasy, maybe it was the fact that the man commarding the army today was once his son when he was mortal, a meer shadow now, but still a fathers love, it seems, went past death. Or maybe it was because this seemed too easy, far to easy. Gabriel had been unrelenting in his attacks but today he sends half a force? It made no sence, But then it became clear.
On the other side of the battle feild Ra could smell him, he could feel him.
"Gabriel.."
The monster himself had come out to play, and it was time for Ra to end this war once and for all.
His run is not stopped seeming masses still enaged in combat, they seem to move out of his way. His prey stands unmoving with a grin on his face, or rather Ra's face.
Gabriel himself is a perfect clone of Ra'Karn in every detai,l apart form being vain which had lead Gabriel to colour his hair blond, cut off the mass of facal hair which Ra wore. He wears robes, more like a jacket that had been made longer. It was royal blue in colour, flapping in the wind as the monster put his hands behind his back, waiting for his would be brother, or would it be father? Ra the one giving him life in this word so many years ago.
"Isnt that what a father is?" He thinks to himself.
He smiles.
"Then so be it let the prodacal son show the old man what is what".
Ra dressed in old studded armor, ripped and torn form battle, his whole armor was dark green on his left shoulder pad the signs of his clan. His hair a mane of dark brown let lose for all to see in its wild glory. His one eye fixed on Gabriel. A time ago, this was all he lived for, battle, honour. Noithing else mattered, but now he had important things waiting for him. A lover who gave him all and ask for nothing in return, a childe who was his pride. Maybe he was becoming soft? In the 800 years of his life Ra never really had a reason to keep on living. Now he had two, waiting at home for him.
So he ran with all his heart and soul, and Gabriel waited.
Finaly he had made it to his prey. His axe was already out, as he jumpped in to the air, swinging the axe down ready to see his prey die. Gabriel looked up and smiled as the axe cut through his head down past his neck and stopping mid-way through his chest. Ra let out a raor of victory. He had done it, he had won!

"Why do you always believe you can solve a matter just by useing an axe?" The two haves of Gabriel dissapaired and reformed as one again.
"I have gone beond such things as death Ra'Karn. its s pitty you havent learnt that yet." His voice now coming form the newly formed Gabriel.

With a punch which looked no more powerful then a tap, Ra'Karn was sent through the air a good 50 feet before landing hard in to the mud.
Gabriel teleported to the site of Ra's landing hands behide his back again.

"Really this is no fun Ra." He said

His words where followed but a kick to Ra's chest sending him through the air again, this time with blood pouring out of Ra's mouth.
Do vampires feel pain?
An age old question, truth be told many mortals dont know the truth, for that matter many vampire dont know it either, but what Ra was feeling now was not pain it was rage.
Pure rage.
Gabriel had again, teleported over. This time the Gangrel elder was waiting for him. Ra jumpped form the ground claws out reached ready to rip through the blue robed monster, but it never happened. Instead Ra floted in mid air, unable to move.
Gabriel smiled as a look for shock came over Ra's face.

"I have become bored Ra, it seems I have to show you once and for all who is master here."

Gabriels eyes turning form brown to white a massing power form himself a seemly endless surplie. Blue flames coved Ra's body.
The next sound on the battle field made most stop and look.
It wasnt a scream, nor a cry, but something inbetween, added with the sounds of countless bones breaking all at once.
Ra lay on the floor every bone his is body broken. Blood pouring form the holes in his skin where sharp bone had ripped through. An unknown amount of gaps where skin and flesh should be, coved his body.

"Oh how the mighty have fallen or broken I think is a better term wouldnt you agree?" Gabriel asked.
"Oh yes sorry, you can not talk because i have just beaten you to the point where you are bearly alive." This time he spoke with a smile.
"Shame really I would of liked to have had your opinion on how badly I had beaten you" His mocking tone was in full force now.

Ra lay unble to do anything.

"Anyway, my dear man , must dash. I have a dream walker who believes he is powerful some what. I must go crash him as I have done you, to show all that I am a god.
Plus Ashoka is mine to play with no one else".

Gabriel pushed the sides of his robe aside awollowing him to bend down.
His hand reaches out and patted Ra lightly on the head, as he whispers to his fallen hunter.

"Know my name and fear it, I am Gabriel".
And with that he stands.
The good hundred men, that where left of Ra's force where now raceing towards their fallen commarder.
Gabriel smiled again.

"Now what to do with these little ones? He looks at the forces raceing towards him.

"N....o" Was all Ra could say.

"Whats that you wish me to spear them?" He asked.

He thinks for a moment.

"No, where would be the fun in that."

If Ra could of spoken he might of said something like "by the gods..." but he could not speak, he could only watch with a heavy heart.
Gabriel floted off the floor, about five or six feet form the groun. His hands opened holding them out to the masses that ran towrds him.

"I am the future Ra, not you, not mortals, not anyone. Just me. The sooner you understand that old frend, the sooner people will stop dying".

What could of only have been called "white light" shot form Gabriels hands in beams, inpailing what was left of Ra's forces. In a matter of seconds all that was left where small burn marks on the ground, where men had once stood.
This time there ws no smile on Gabriels face just a knowlage of victory.
In a blink of an eye Gabriels forces had gone, as did their master, leaving only a Ra'Karn laying in the mud.
Once a mighty and proud warrior, now a broken man, and not just in body, but in soul.
--------
(Garod)
Opening his eyes Garod sits up from the lexurious bed. Things were becoming serious and time for learning about his enemy was runing out. It was slowly becoming clear to him what this predator wanted. He had almost interfered when he had hit her, but he knew that he would not kill her, not before he had broken her.
Plans of action were progressing, threads upon threads were coming together to ensnare the hunter. One of his plans was flowering quite nicly but would only be used as a last resort. The next step was to the two main players of his game together and see who would win. Either way he thought one of them was going to die and one of his enemies would perish.
Gabriel was heading towards Nujlem and would be there soon. Now it was time to prepare the hunter for the encounter.
Garod rests his head back upon the pillow taking a last look at an enameld carving on one of the posts of the bed before closing his eyes. He relaxes his grip on his body and reaches through the tentative link he had established to Ashoka. He finds her still laying in her bed unaware of his presence and his intent. "Sleep"......
Eyes open to the bedroom Ashoka had been within the dream of the hunter. He would have to be quick or the hunter might notice something was amis. Raising the delicate hands of the lady Ashoka he materializes a dagger with little effort of his mind. He walks to the furthest wall on the room oposing the door through which the Hunter would come. Raising the dagger he slices across the palm producing an adequate flow of blood for writing a message. Placing it against the wall he starts...

One comes to Challange you, One comes to take away what you covet.
Will you be but a candle in the wind in our unlife ?
Tree forces battling for one, but in the end when all is said and done, who will have won?

With the last words painted upon the walls he lets Ashoka's body fade talking one last look at the blodied wall. Let him ponder at Ashoka's invasion to his dreams and the message writen upon the wall. Returning to the sightless mind of Ashoka he releases his grip on her and recedes back into the shadows of her mind slowly waking her as he retreats leaving non the wiser.

Now we wait and see....
-------
(Ashoka)
The Vizier snaps at her slaves to move faster. They are girding her in her finest armor, the blue valorite enhanced with as much arcane magic as it could hold. The heavy metal breastplate encases her molded to her form, the chain-mail leggings swathe her slim body like a glove. The Bedhouin helmet secures her face, shielding her from the burning rays of the desert sun. Her gloves and sleeves were fashioned by the elves of Valoria, the mithril light but stronger than steel. She allows the slave to fasten two daggers to her waist, each poisoned, and another tucked in her soft chamois boots.

She hefts the weighty scimitar with some ease, it's blade glinting wickedly in the firelight. The last slave fastens her fire-cloth cloak about her shoulders, adjusting the blazing sash of office over her breastplate. She dismisses the slaves, and they flee like scurrying rats.

And she remembers how his flesh seemed made of marble, as cold as stone. She recalls how easily he snapped her blade beneath his great boot.
Would these trappings of man prevail against the Dream Walker? She doubted it. In another world, and another time, perhaps things could have been different.

Would it aid her against Gabriel? The Daeman had broken Ra'Karn, the mightiest of warroirs, like a toy. She felt the stinging of a tear in her eyes, thinking of that proud Gangrel.

She squares her slender shoulders, straightening her body with regal poise.
So be it. No one was invincible. Even she was not able to slay the grinning face of death if it turned it's gaze upon her. She resisted the temptation to mourn for what might have been.
If her enemies would only be satisfied with her destruction, then let them do their worst. She would die...but Nujel'm would remain.

It was a good day to die. And if it was so written, then let her die well.

"For Nujel'm!" she murmurs. And walks out into the day.
-----
(Vik'tor)
His mind becomes active as the dream is released. He is buried deep in the earth where he is most comfortable when he rests. He flows through the earth like a bird through the sky as he moves away from her and her protectors.

Once well away from the city he rises to the surface and becomes solid. He eyes the mortal city controlled by her and a smile touches his lips. With a thought his form shifts to the large mountain wolf form he likes. He sits back on his haunches and let out a loud and commanding howl into the night...
------
(Garod)
Standing in the deapth of my inner sanctum, books and objects of power and mystery littering the shelves I close the book I was reading. The time has come, there can be no more delay. I walk over to a shelf and take down piece by precious piece of antient armor. This was not some magical artifact bestowing great power on the wearner, no these were pieces of sentiment to me. In colors of red and black these were the pieces I had worn in the days of old when I swore bloodfeud against Deepwater for killing my Sire and bestowing the responcibility of the Tremere Family on my shoulders long before I was ready. Pulling on the leather leggings and the soft leather breastpiece they fit tightly to my slender form but allowe for all the movement I will need. Musing, I look at the arms and gloves still coverd in the blood of those who I slew. Jearom, Brambles, Nagash, Burrator, Drussix, Loki, Beorn and so many more. This is the armor which made me and perhaps it will be the armor I perish in. Looking arround my Sanctum I collect regents, scrolls, artifcats, potions and items I might find usefull. Satisfied with my attire I sit down on the floor of my Sanctum wondering if I will be able to finish it. My thoughts race back to a meeting with a redhaird 14 year old girl whom I shared so much with. Doughter of Pandora, Anatheme, you tought me so much but now it is time to let the beast out again. With my last thoughts of Alynora I stand up move to the door and press the hidden stone which opens my Sactum to the outside world. Steping through the doorway my mind is focused on only the confrontation ahead of me.
One of my enemies would lie dead in the dirt before I would make my move. The other would be severely weakend by the time I struck.
Looking up at the shadows above my new sactury it reminds me allot of Nohkmar.
Like Ra'Karn loves to say..today is a good day to die.......
-------
(Ashoka)
She hears the cry of the wolf, and strangely, it comforts her. Better to die at the hands of one known, than that of the unknown. She would not flinch as he strikes, but would stare boldly into the face of death.

Indulging for a moment in nostalgia, she thinks of the men she has known, Nithaid, Habib, Stee.... the brave warriors, men and women who would gladly laid down their lives for Nujel'm... her sister of the heart, Gyann, Regent...perhaps she would rule now in truth.......Justice her General, Jaok the Djinn, Jasmina the Prime Minister, Jarod, Minister of War, Zaragopha the Lore Master..Crazy Nicholas...Rom, the master of storytelling...even the crazed prophet, that beggarly Mustapha Saia...other faces, some dim, some bright...So many people who had depended on her...so many who hated her, even some who loved....

She waits for the elders, for she hears their call. Monseigneur, Lord Qurant, heavens how she would miss him! His wisdom and calm good sense...his intelligence and cunning..

Lord Garod...*she smiles a little mischievously* she would miss the fencing of words...his devious nature so refreshing.

Ra....but she could not bear to think of Ra..knowing him to be broken perhaps past repair.

Sighing softly, she turns her head to where she hears the wolf howling. her whisper does not carry far.."Would that thee had been a friend and not a foe....Vik'tor"
She tastes the name on her lips for a moment.
Shrugging fatalistically, she crosses the palace to the courtyard, and out to the streets.
------
(Vik'tor)
As the sound of his howl fades he turns his head in the direction of the battle he can feel not far. His legs eat up the miles as he travels to see this horde that comes. His mind thinks back to the small amount of information he has gathered from those around Achoka. They fear to lose that which they control but do they not understand tat control is an illusion....

His large form crests a dune and looks down into the last few moment of the battle that goes on between the forces of the one known as Ra'karn and the creature Gabriel. He sits there watching the destruction being dealt out so as to understand the strengths and weaknesses of his enemies.

As the last of the men fall to Gabriel the time to act has come. His form shift to his true form. Watching the one known as Gabriel he smiles..." Yours to play with is she? I think perhaps you have spoken out of turn. I am the one you seek to dance on the field with...You may call Vik'tor in this age and I know you for what you are"

Gabriel looks up at the figure not far from him and chuckles. " I was wondering if you would come out of the shadows nightwalker. When I am done with you I will go and take that which belongs to me" Gabriel's hand reaches out and fire leaps towards the figure known as Vik'tor. Gabriel watches it envelope the figure and grins thinking he had hoped this would have been more of a challenge.

The flame strikes him and the old fear almost causes Vik'tor to flinch. Long ago before he mastered the art of fortitude this would have killed him. Once he regains his thoughts he stand there waiting for the fire to stop. When is does and Gabriel see that he is still standing there they both smile at each other and the real battle begins.

From the end of Vik'tors fingers claws grow. These viscous looking claws are unnatural and used for killing Garou. He moves with a celerity as he moves into hand to hand combat with the one known as Gabriel. Both give and both take, even with the power of skin like marble Gabriel deals wounds to him. The battle rages in the middle of the field not far from where Ra was felled.

" I must by her and her protectors a little time..."
-------
(Garod)
Crawling through the sand Garod reaches the top of a dune which is surveying the battle between Gabriel and Vik'tor. Only his eyes show from the sands the rest of his form hidden underneath. He positioned himself so that he was facing Vik'tor in his oppinion the most likly candidate to win this battle. Having been privy to Ashoka's dreams he felt himself like this hunter eventhough he knew that he would try to kill him today should he win. As the blows between the two advesaries fall and wounds appear on both sides Garod smiles because the longer this battle takes the more worn out the winner would be. His eyes scanning the battlefield found Ra'Karns broken form laying among the debries of war. Littered arround him were dead drow, humans and savages. Looking at Ra he felt feint signs of life but with the battle raging as it did he did not give him much chance of survival. At least he will have died well came the unbidden thought to Garods mind and perhaps I will join him on the field of battle this day.
He wonderd where Ashoka was hiding and what was going on in the childs head.
Resuming his study of the two combatans he makes mental notes of all the things he will need to survive the coming encounter and prepares himself for his move.
------
(Ashoka)
She heard the sounds of the battle from palace office, where she and Lord Garod had been discussing the upcoming conflict.
What she had learned had disturbed her..but at the first clash, she started up.
" Lord Garod...they fight....Now!" she cries out.
He nodded. It was as he had hoped.
Together they left the palace and made their way to the sounds. He disappeared, obviously not willing to show himself to either combatant.

Overlooking the battlefield she stood on a dune, a small figure, valiantly attired in armor.
Vik'tor and Gabriel were ferocious, gashing great gouts of flesh from each other, yet they fought on.

In his hiding place, Lord Garod looked cool and amused. He was not one to betray his thoughts.

The Grand Vizier was tense, her huge dark eyes following each motion, and a tiny gasp escapes her lips as Vik'tor is knocked down.

Lord Garod notes her agitation, and smiles to himself. "We have been too soft on her," he thinks to himself. "Yet it is hard not to indulge one so naturally evil and refreshingly cunning."

The Vizier's hand clenches about her scimitar handle, the knuckles white. She looks like a savage princess of yore, dark eyes fierce and lit with the heat of battle. Her breathing quickens under her valorite breastplate. Her warrior's blood sang as Vik'tor rolled out from beneath a particularly vicious blow from Gabriel.
This was no magic battle, though magics were being used... no mere words being tossed about, no matter of whose will was stronger...this was flesh on flesh, teeth and claws...This was battle in its most primitive form and watching it made her only too aware of her inability to conquer either foe in that way.

Did the Hunter have an edge? Was he beating down the insane Gabriel who would be a god? Could her Hunter finally have vanquished this threat to all of Sosaria?

She mocked her thoughts..."Her" Hunter?

She knew enough of the treachery in the elder's hearts to know the Dream Walker would not be tolerated among them...he was too powerful.
She steals a look around, seeking Lord Garod, a little disconcerted to not see him. Did he know her thoughts? Probably, the wretch.

She spots the broken remains of Ra'Karn..and her anger swells.."I will avenge you, my old friend..." she says coldly.

Taking a deep breath, she heads down the dune, at ease among the sands..her sword drawn and the fierce cry of battle on her lips..

"Ya'Laahhhhh!"
-------
(Gabriel)
HE is power, he is a god. no one can match him, and he will show them. Gabriel fights on. He will win that is fact he thinks to himself. Even death its self can not hold him.
The begining that stands in front of him is indeed strong, but Gabriel has a plan he is one but Gabriel is a legion he is many.
He felt Garod long ago spying on the battle and also ashoka.
He gave out a small smile knowing everything was going to plan.
Garod who had of course come to finsih off the victory of the fight believe them too weak to be able to conter his attack after this battle. But what Termere didnt not understand is Gabriel wanted this to happen. With the power ripping through both these man, Gabriel knew the walls of time and space where coming apart. already weaken by past events such as th gate way to malas being opened. He did not need to win this fight because he already had. Even if this body was to die he would simply be sent back to his fold in space time, but by then the walls between there and this world would be so weak the others would come ripping out of there world in to this one and the best thing is Termere and the others throught they were winning.
He laughs.
"Come worrior fight more show me your power!"
------
(Ashoka)
With a savage cry she swings her scimitar, its blade enhanced with the arcane....her aim is sure....She knows she cannot win, but she hacks low, at the Daemon's knees, hoping at least to cripple it. The shock force of the recoil sends her into a roll.
------
(Vik'tor)
The battle having raged to long his blood expenditure not having reach the half way point but getting close. He can feel the others watching and the lovely Ashoka is now involved in the battle. He dives to one side to be out of the immediate range of Gabriel. Vik'tor grabs the back of Ashoka breastplate and tosses he behind him as if she were a toy.

Knowing she lands some 30 feet behind him he now has the ability to call on his powers without hurting her. Gabriel turns looking at Vik'tor both of them looking beat up but no less deadly then when the battle began. Gabriel speaks..."You can not win and you know it. I will live even if you do destroy this host I control. None can prevent me from taking that which I want."

Vik'tor's icy blue eyes settle on Gabriel his voice sings out flat and cold as stone. " You do not understand what I am. You think I am like this one ( his hand motions to Ra )? You are closer to look at the one behind us who hides from the battle. I am Brujah and you do not have what it takes to kill one of us..."

Raising his hand above his head he moves towards Gabriel, Vik'tors hands start to glow and shimmer as he calls upon the Antediluvian power to warp and change reality. The sphere starts to expand and those watching loss sight of both Vi'ktor and Gabriel inside the sphere. Those watching see the sand turn to glass where the sphere touches it....
--------
(Garod)
Watching the battle rage he suddenly spots Ashoka on top of the dune next to him. He sees her running down the dune saber swinging and crying her defiance against the powers below. Thoughts of stoping her race through his mind but if he did that he would loose the one opportunity he would get at killing the victor. Suddenly contious of his bodies anxiousness to race into the frey he relaxes his body and clears his mind. Survival always came first. He would regret the loss of Ashoka dearly but she had made her own choice and for good or ill she commited to it. Watching the fight a feeling of wrongness came over him. Gabriel was fighting like he had never before and Garod had his doubts if he could have beaten him. But the thing that struck him was eventhough Gabriel was bruised and batterd he was smiling. Garod looked closer at the combatans trying to glean if Gabriel had some sort of hidden resources tucked away. Yet he could see non for all the appearance was worth Gabriel was fighting with all his might against the Hunter. The power those two were letting loose on one another was enormous they could not be capable of holding back.
Ashoka had reached the combatans at that point and his focus shifted back to the frey.
-----------
(Ashoka)
She lands in a heap, her breath knocked from her body. She had not let go of her scimitar. Dazed she sits up and wipes the sweat and blood from her eyes, gritty sand spattering her lips.
She tries to scramble to her feet and rush forward when she sees the sphere..
She throws back her head and howls, deprived of the prey.
Helplessly, she can do no more than watch, knowing Vik'tor is in there..with her true enemy.
-------
(Garod)
Under his cover of sand he had thought himself hidden but first Gabriels eyes then Viktors search the spot he was hiding. The time for hiding seems to have ended it was time to enter the game. Standing up sand flows off his red and black armor. It was time to reveal his own powers, powers of Tremere and Pandora. Just at that moment the globe of light enveloped both Gabriel and Viktor turning the sand to glas and crunching under Garod as he shifted his weight. Ashoka was laying close to him and seing as both combatans were in the sphere he rushes over to stand before Ashoka creating a protective sheath of crackling energy to shelter them both.
That having been done he prepares for whatever happens once the sphere collapes.
-------
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*


(Ashoka)
She stares wildly at Lord Garod. "
We..I...must go to him! We ..*I* do not wish to stand by and watch....I must help!"

She moves as if to brush past him, but he grabs her arm in fingers of stone.

" Not this time, my dear" He murmurs, and forces her to remain behind the energy shield. His voice adds a touch of sarcasm.
" And this is the woman who cannot be broken? He must die, Lady Ashoka."

Her eyes flash, a struggle in her mind contorts her features. Years of breeding come to her rescue and she lifts her chin, though her gaze never leaves the sphere. He relaxes his grip, and she stands calmly next to him.

What she hopes, she carefully conceals in the deepest recess of her mind.
-------
(Ra'karn Moon)
with what was left of his power little as it was now. Ra spoke if you could call it that a few words of power forming a blue moongate underhim, seeing as if he was to die he would be with shelly when it happens. it was time for him to leave this battle once and for all. And with that his body slipped in to the moongate.
-------
(Garod)
Feeling a shift in the Sphere Garod looks over to Ashoka who was standing numb and stonefaced next to him. She was hiding her feelings from him and he did not press the issue through the link. Turning his head to face her he speaks in a soft voice..

You stay here my Dear it is time for me to go. Gabriel has to be stopped at all costs. I have underestimated him this time arround and I have to help stop him. And please do not try to follow me or you will force me to impose my will on you. I know you will say this is impossible but do not forget the link.

With the last sylabil escaping his lips Garod reaches into his robes and retrieves an object of black color shaped in the form of a spike and blurred into motion towards the Sphere. His feet touching the ground at a pace at which it did not disturb the sand. Drawing closer to it he slows down untill he is almost at the edge it looks like he is pushing against a wall and his progress is minute. Reaching the Sphere he places his hand against it and an opening appears. Garod saggs slightly but then pushes through into the center of the Sphere.....
-----------
(Vik'tor)
Vik'tor feels his presence more then see Garod enter the sphere. Gabriel not being of this reality is now trapped in a state he can not remove himself. This world is the world of the Kindred, the eldest able to warp and change reality in this time and space. Vik'tor is playing with things that are often left alone but he will not allow Gabriel to move forward.

Vik'tor stands less then two feet from Gabriel. Multicolor shifts rain around them as they stand there looking at each other but Gabriel does not seem to see. His link to his home cut off by the sphere that has warped the reality of the world his host is in. Gabriel screams " You can not hide from me you worthless dog! What have you done you can not hold me here like this! I WILL DESTROY YOU!"

Vik'tor holds the sphere through sure power of will his blood pool is getting low and he can not attack while keeping Gabriel trapped here. With the addition of the one known as Garod adds a new piece to the game board. Vik'tor's thoughts wander to the issues at hand...Does he come to kill me or Gabriel? Does he understand what happened to all of us if I die while having the sphere up and all of us in it...very interesting.

The creature he is has spent decades at times letting his plots work there way to fruition. Have acted so in haste it seems may have put himself in a bad spot. Funny that his mind should wander back to her...dead now over a century but the pain is still there...perhaps he will see her in the after life she believed in. What of this new one, Ashoka...why was it so important for him to prevent her death...

His blue eye harden and his body is stone once again. A whisper escapes his lips..." You will not return from you trip here soul stealer. This reality is ours to command and we are the pinnacle of this world..."
-------
(Garod)
Gaining his bearings after having passed the barrier of the Sphere Garod studies his surroundings. His eyes fall on Vik'tor who was facing Gabriel but obviously knew of his presence. Carefully stepping arround Vik'tor he places himself into a position creating a triangle between the three of them.
Glancing at both Gabriel and Vik'tor he smiles and speaks in a bemused voice " My, my don't we seem to be in a fix? We have here a Vampire who is fighting exhaustion" his eyes glance at Vik'tor then swirve arround to Gabriel "and something, god knows what you are anymore Gabriel traped and weakened trying to get out" moving his eyes from one to the other he continues " I'm here to see non of you leave this place to be honest, not the powerhungry specter with illusions of grandeur" looking at Gabriel "Nor the Antient one who will destroy us all and who obviously has the power to do so" looking at Vik'tor"....if either of you think I am incapable of such a feat then take a good look at yourselves..you have been fighting eachother for quite some time you are both getting to the boundries of your power I am sure I could at least make a very good effort at killing one of you or weakening him so that the other would win this battle...the only difficoult question is who do I fight? Should I aid the hunter first, he will be able to release this sphere and most likly kill me after... if I help Gabriel kill the hunter god knows what will happen to this Sphere...We might as well all be blown to nothingness but perchance this is what I am here for..." Garod starts to lough "Who would have ever thought that I would be trying to save the world but here we are.."

"But I would like to hear from each of you before I make my choice..."
Gazing at either of them Garod awaits the words each of them have...readying himself for action should one of them descide to try and end him prematurly...
-------
(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier sinks to the sands, drained of everything. Every fiber of her being wanted to follow Lord Garod, but she could not. She knew the Elder's purpose. She knew his arrogance. He would not hesitate to take advantage of any weakness to emerge the winner.
The Dreamstalker had saved her, tossing her from the battle, though he could have so easily destroyed her. Why, she wondered.
She closes her eyes in anguish. "Mon pere, where are thee?"

In all her pampered, spoiled life, she, the arrogant princess of Nujel'm had never felt so helpless. There simply was nothing she could do.
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*

(Gabriel)
Gabriel laughed, he laughed so hard if he did breath he would of had to stop by now.
"how fun this!" but the odds are abit one sidded dont you think? eitehr way myself or .....what is the name your humans would say?...Super-vampire! That will do".
"Either way one of us will die and you win all Garod! How unfair".
He smiles.
"Let us add something more to the mix shall we, because you see unlike you fools Gabriel did not come alone, now Garod you shall lose something in this bet. Namely Ashoka."
He laughed again, and just past the Sphere the sand moved and a noise so lound could be heard for miles around Ashoka looked up with shock on her face, befor her stood the monsther named the true Harrower.
"Come my brother" Gabriel shouted.
He looked at the two men standing in the Sphere.
"Oh whats the matter? forget I'm a demon did you?"
Outside the huge monster standing all over a 100 feet tall with dark black tentaces lashes out form the sand and heads for its pray first Ashoka and after that, the Sphere.
-----
(Ashoka)
The Grand Vizier of the Sultanate of Nujel'm, Empress of the Lost Lands rose slowly to her feet.

With a calmness borne of despair, she utters these last words.

"We Bow to no-one."

And she takes out her bejeweled dagger..a pretty plaything, yet steeped with the poisons made by Drow.
She hurls it with steady aim at the harrower. It barely enters the black flesh, but the poison makes it halt its movement for a brief second.

Suddenly, she recalls something the Hunter had once said. Control is an illusion. An Illusion!
There ARE no Harrowers in Trammel. They can only be called in the darkest dungeons of Felucca. Gabriel had used his insanity to call an Illusion!

She stares arrogantly at the Illusion, and it melts away before her eyes.

She draws herself up and moves closer to the sphere...illusions...dreams...that is what started this...
-----
(Gabriel)
Gabriel watchs the harrower form his minds eye dissaper form the sands seeing Ashoka stand there face like stone one thought crosses Gabriels mind
"Oh ****."
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*



(Vik'tor)
Vik'tor lets his ice blue eyes look at Garod. " I can keep him here only for so long he is strong. You must decide Tremere which of us is the biggest threat to your plans and deal your blow..." He stand there his arms above his head not moving to protect himself from Garod.
-----
(Gyann)
Gyann, mounted on her great white arabian that is the birthright of Nujlem, and its superior army at her back, they show no fear... they are ready to die... She knows they can do little to teeter the balance but at the very least she can lend to the stregth of her sister, add to the confusion they are week she can see the sphere flicker... At the right moment... perhaps she can strike, add to the confusion, cause a distraction.


At that moment she sees a harrower appear... whats this? bah! it is an illusion.. there is no harrowers in trammel nor can they enter they have no stregth in this world.. She obsurves the tiny figure of the vizier face the great beast... she watches it dissapate, wise sister wise.

She she neatly jabs risha in the flanks and he surges forward... rideing down the dune to her sister, She covers her face the stench of the rotting corpses the desighn of war the reak was increadible she struggles to keep from wretching... she reaches her sister, haggard and hollow eyed her sisters face rises to meet her eyes..

Greetings sister how can i lend aid? The power of the elements is at your disposal let us do our worst...
----
(Ashoka)
Though her face is ravaged by the inner conflict, she meets the Regent's eyes calmly and speaks in her well-modulated voice.
One would think she was at some great court function and not in the middle of a rotting battlefield.

"Sister, We do not know what aid We may give. The sphere is not of...our dimension." She speaks carefully, unsure of how much to divulge.

"Inside is the Dream Walker, who formed this sphere and somehow it contains the Daemon Gabriel, imprisoned. Lord Garod entered as well, by some strange device, possibly a shard of the black box, or a black gate, but We do not know."

She continues, only the slightest catch in her voice reveals any emotion.
"The Dream Walker saved Us, Sister, from Gabriel's malice. We still do not know it's intentions to Us...but We owe it a debt now."

She hesitates, then speaks again, careful to keep her feelings masked.
"It would seem the lesser evil is Vik'tor...the Hunter...for Gabriel wishes only to destroy all of Sosaria. Perhaps the Hunter only wishes to destroy Us."

She stop Gyann before she can speak with one upflung hand.

"No, sister, we cannot enter the sphere. We can only await and pray that..Gabriel does not emerge the winner. For is he does, then more will die here today."

She looks around the battlefield, the stench not affecting her, having seen so many such as this. She notices Gyann looking a little green. An affectionate smile curves her pale and dusty face and she speaks more gently this time.

"Perhaps thee and thy men should await from the top of the hill, then...if..Gabriel emerges, thee may strike from a vantage point."

"Aye, sister, and if it is the hunter and Garod that emerge?" Gyann asks. Nauseous she might be, but her true core of steel will not willingly let her leave the Vizier's side if in danger.

"If we remove our helm, strike them both down." The Vizier utters coldly. And she turns her slight figure once more to the sphere.
Does it seem dimmer? Is he losing strength too fast? She knew what he needed for sustenance. But she dared not enter the sphere, too much depended upon it.
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*

(Gabriel)
He gives a low growl knwoing his power is failing him.
He gives a fake smile
"Come on Termere whos it going to be? Me or the hunter?"
He looks to them both.
"Best make up your mind soon, your friend here can not hold me much longer Garod."
He smiles at Victorand speeak in a mocking tone.
"Who are you to think you could ever contain me? I am your god little man, soon your power will fade and i will take your soul as i will all the beings in this world, The time of the lesser races is over, it is time to hand back this world to its rightful owners, the demon race!"
He looks to Garod.
"I tell you what Termere strike him down release me and i will grant you a place at our ruling."
He looks with a very serours looks at the old vampire.
"I can show you magics that you have never dreamed off the power to reshape the world to be the greatest mage that has ever lived, or in your case, died. I know you want this Garod release me and I shall show you ture power."
He awaits a replie.
-------------
(Gyann)
Gyann speaks...

I am loathed to leave her my childhood companion my only sister i ever knew, our worlds are no longer the same, but yet we are joined still in nujelm our home. Think...

Why has this great power decended on our tiny island, what use are we to the likes of them? This hunter.. he loves her i can feel it. If he wished to destroy nujlem the earth would have swallowed us up by now.. what else could be the meaning of his comming.. yes sister is beautiful, and yes she is perhaps more like them than like myself at late...

We must help this hunter then perhaps deal with him later if need be, everything has a weakness that can be known and found, and delt with. for every great power there is a counter power its a matter of awakening such power and channeling it. Cunning.. it is all cunning.

think .....


The black box... callums box .. it plays a part.. perhaps it can be used at last and this particular game shall end and perhaps we may have peace for a time, but now the hunter must be fed he weakens...


Sister i will ride to the summit await my return i shall fly like the wind i have idea!

Wipeing the smeared charion from her face and arms as the hooves of her great horse beat upon the the mangled bodies that litter the ground she rides for shadow court... there is no time to spare.
------
(Ashoka)
The Vizier nods, her eyes never leaving the sphere.
One opening, that is all she requires, just one opening to the inside and she will defy Tremere and enter.
----
(Callum)
Callum sat in the Shadowcourt Tower mulling over Garods words to him ...

Garod's plan . It sounded like a good idea to him . But ... he listened and walked outside and place his ear to the ground and listened ...

"Ah she comes ..." he stood and waited like a statue carved out of stone .
----
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*

(Qurant)
As he reaches the crest of the hill, Qurant looks down upon the battlefield below him, and wonders if he might not already be too late. With that thought, he races towards his Childe, crying out to her through their bloodtie;

"I am here, hinamin. If you wish to face damnation, you will not do so alone."
------
(Ra'karn)
He lays on the ground coved in blood his vison leaving him then it is dark.
But he hears a voice a voice like honey calling him.
"Ra'Karn? Can yu 'ear me?" Opeining his eyes he sees the form of an old friend if he could call her that.
"Sara?"
The blond women stood naked with only her hair seeming to cover the parts of her that should not been seen by man.
"Why I am here"? Ra asked finding it much easyer to talk.
"I 'ave taken you 'ere to elp yu" She replied.
"Your a bit late, we could of done with your help at the start of this."
Sara was a planeswalker a powerful being with the abilties to walk between worlds her and Ra 'traveled' with each other some time back.
"I could not elp, my friend. Gabriel 'as made it 'ard for us to walk in to your world." She said with a frown.
"Then what are you here for then?" He asked.
"I am ere to warn you, Garod must not kill Gabriel with te blackrock, tat is what he wants!"
Ra looked in confusemnt.
"What are you talking about the blackrock would end him once and for all"
"Nu!" she shouted "Te blackrock is what he wants Gabriel was never 'ere to rule te world he was 'ere to 'elp te others get to it."
Agin Ra confusment didnt stop.
"Ra he will use 'imself as a new gate if Garod touches him with te blackrock, everything Gabriel 'as done up to now 'as been a trick."
"what the hell are you talking about?" shouted Ra.
"How are we ment to stop him then?" he asked.
"In a body Gabriel can be killed we, but he will transform in to his ture form if he is killed, after that with the blackrock he is free to become a new gate" sh replied
"you havent answered my question" we do we kill him?
"You must let him win, Gabriel must die and become his ture form after that he will become nothing but pure mana, all who our there most pour they own power in to him, hopfuly this will over wlem him so much he will not beable to control himself that is when Garod must use the blackrock with such power he will not be able to controll it and he will expload" She said with a smile.
"theres just one problem wiuth that Sara, if he blows up he will take most of the world with him." Said Ra
"We, that is ture, but that is where your new vampire friend comes in to it, he can make a new bubble around gabriel controlling the blast forcing it away form your world, Gabriel will die, and all will win" Again she said smiling.
so your telling me if Gaord kills Gabriel right now with the black rock Gabriel wins, if he kills him with out the blackrock Gabrile becomes all powerful and could still win?"
"We" was all she said.
"fine send me to them" He said.
Ther eis one more thing Ra, the box that callum has it is a key once the bubble has contained the blast it must be used to seal it out of your time and space" again with a smile.
"nice of you to tell me that" he repiled.
"Your sure this is the only way to kill him?"
"Nu this is but one of many ways but it is the easyest with the items you have at hand".
He nods his body still broken but healing
"do it" was all he said
And with a smile Ra found himself falling towards the hill where Ashoka stood.
---------
(Ashoka)
She looks up, her face grimed with battle, a spark of hope in her dulled eyes.
"Mon Pere!" she cries and hurls her slender form towards him.
"Mon Pere we must do something...Tremere will slay the Hunter if the Hunter manages to kill Gabriel!"

Calmly he responds.."Hinamin, I know all this..."
---
(Garod)
Garod looks from one to the other considering each reply. It was true that he would much rather kill Gabriel than this Hunter. For some reason he liked this hunter but reason told him that if he left him alive he would be unstopable by the Elders nor anyone els he knew. He wished he knew more about Gabriels power and Hunters intentions. He resolved to find out more a descision with so many unknown factos was just too risky.
"Do not rush me Gabriel or I might just descide to help hunter right now" Garod growls. Then turning to hunter with an inquisitive look on his face he asks "What would happen were I to kill you hunter? And what is your goal in all of this? Why did you save Ashoka?"
---
(Ashoka)
Ashoka gasps. She can hear Tremere..it seems the link works both ways. She turns to Qurant, who stands ready for battle at her side.
He knew already of course.
They stood girded for battle.
"Hinamin" he says calmly..."today is not your day to die"

She nods and gazes into the sphere.
------
(Vik'tor)
Vik'tor lets a smile touch his pale lips his eyes never leaving Gabriel. "If you attempt to destroy me then the sphere will implode upon us. You can not kill me as the privilege was taken a long time ago by my Sire. As to my intentions, do you think that any answers I give you would make you feel better? Perhaps I wish to control her and in doing so control the might of her nation. Then again it could be that I am in love and seek the touch of a beautiful woman. How about I wish to drink from her to gain all her might as a kindred...."

Vik'tor with a thought expends the blood needed to set up his last defense should things go the wrong way. His mind knowing that survival is the need of all kindred. His voice reaches out once again to Garod.

" I am but a simple man I assure you. I engaged in this combat to attempt to save the unlife of an elder Gangrel. though there is little love lost between myself and others of our kind I will not let a riftwalker destroy his betters." a chuckle escapes his lips " very well I can see on your face you do not buy the first part. Perhaps I am not simple but I am here doing battle with your enemy. Does the saying the enemy of thin enemy is my friend not ring hallow here?...."
--------
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*

Re: IC Story- A Kadins Dream-(Gabriel Wars)
(Ashoka)
Her face drains of all color, hearing the words. The ways men think, are beyond one who uses the wiles of women to manipulate her will. To allow men to make decisions that directly affected her life and her land were beyong bearing!

She recalls the bitter words flung at Ra...Ra who still lived...her heart had been gladdened when he appeared on the hill besides Qurant. And then his words, so coldly uttered, so insulting...
Qurant had stood as if amused, words rolling off his tongue, equally as insulting but so much more subtle.

She wondered glumly how they could engage in such vicious verbal battle when perhaps they would not survive the night.
How little she knew of these creatures!

Truly Qurant had spoken, when he said no clan could live in peace with another.
Perhaps the Prince thought to unite the clans, but he would fail.

On the other hand, it might not matter.

She wanted to think of what it might be like to exist with such a creature as the Hunter, but she knew in that way lies madness. She would never live under the control of such a one. She had no wish to be some man's plaything. She would never willingly allow him to feed on her life blood.

She had no special powers, other than her natural ability to lead.

Her existence would be that of political puppet...as always..what she was trained to be. How terribly dull it seemed now.
She thought of the years before her, if the prophets so allowed it.
Long, empty years.

She wearied of staring at the sphere. If the Tremere could enter, then why could she not? Was she not the Ruler of this land? Did it not all belong to her? She would do this one last thing perhaps...See if reality was the same as dreams. Face death head on with her scimitar drawn.

She would walk into the sphere...
---------
(Muldran)
Leaving the Darkcloaks Tower, after speaking to the Master, Muldran gingerly held the box in front of him.

"What I had to promise to get this..." he murmured to himself.

Exiting the Tower, he saw Callum standing with Jarik. As Muldran held up the box, Callum gasped and staggered backwards.

"Don't... don't show it to me, you fool!"

Suddenly, his sword was in his hand, and he lunged for Muldran. Mul leapt out of the way, clutching the box to him, almost hearing it call... Jarik barged into Callum as he lurched towards Muldran again, and Bel spun Mul about, throwing him towards Lucy.

"We'll... keep him busy!" cried Belgarion.

Mul cried out, as Lucy opened a gate, and dragged him through to NuJel'm... where Gyann looked shocked to see Lucy and Mul tumble out of the gate.

"Here!" gasped Mul, holding the box towards here, shivering as she took it from his grasp.

Kissing him gently on the cheek, Gyann turned, and ran towards the battlefield...
-----
(Zaragopha)
Zaragopha dashed across the dunes, his ceremonial Agapite robes fluttering in the dry Nujel'mian air, his clean, untarnished Hammer-pick glinting in the sun as he strode with it firmy clutched in his hand. Balor had been speaking again - or rather, transmitting that deep, shadowy emotion inside Zaragopha that told him when to act, and what to do - what he had always referred to as the voice of Balor. The blackness in his stomach had awoken him, driven him to don his ceremonial robes and armour - and to go to the dunes.

To die for the Vizier.

The blood inside him coarsed thick and hot through his veins. Finally, he understood. His true allegiance was to the Vizier. He no longer served some long distant Fimir-queen - the Vizier had become his Meargh, his reason for existance, his purpose to be in Nujel'm. Balor understood this - supported this, and willed him forward to die for his chosen leader. His Gargoyle-taught reasoning and blind Fimm emotion clashed, dizzied his mind - but he knew that there was no need for reason now. Balor had given him a task, and it was his to complete.

Yet, he was too late. Banishing feelings of amazement from his mind, he gazed upon the crystalline sphere, the plane-within-a-plane. And watched the Vizier's delicate hand reach out to touch it.
-----------
(Gyann)
Disheartened....

she had tried to retreive the black box,,alas callum did not have it.. Ra being impatient as ever, ordering his man to kill randomly the folk that stood about this house, this makeing her increadibly nervous.. she had always liked Ra, gentle yet frieghtening, extremely unpredictable..she gingerly moved away from his side..

Callum lead us to the home of Venom O'Dorsay more killing.. he did not have the box nor was he the least cooperative..however being met by an angry Ra'karn on his door step demanding that which he did not posses helped matters even less. The girl Syeria appeared. She seemed to know the most of this box perhaps she is the keeper, instead more delays... they questioned the motives of Ra, and this Nujelmite Noble they knew little of.

She turns to Ra, we must find another way... he agrees readily and she and Ra' Karn leave the scene behind. The great elder for the first time seemed at a loss, makeing her heart sink lower... The returned to look upon the battle field the spere is still there, They exchange a few words, words about the truth, what ever that is...Gyann was not certain she wanted to know those truths and fled from his company.

She walks down to the docks, mulling over what to do, what to do, must she stand by and watch this terrible stuggle? watch her sister die in the heat of unnatrual battle?

A moon gate opens.. the one known as Mulderan appears with a lovely woman at his side... he did not introduce her... he was visibly shaken.. i will give you this box, prey thee do not open it, it talks! He nearly did not hand it over as it was willing him to tuck it away, finally he flung it at her asking if she was sure she wanted this.. she took the box, she grew instantly cold and shivered at the darkness witch lay inside.... It does speak.. it whispers but she does not understand the words, nor does she wish too... Being deeply greatful to this man whom she barely knows of she gently places a kiss on his cheek as it may be the last kiss she is ever to give.


she tucks it under her arm closeing off her mind and makes for the battle field. She rides faster and faster, the box makes her weak and cold and weary in the heat of the day.. it drains her life force.. it is a void sucking like a leach the light from around it. She sees the tiny figure of her sister approaching the spere reaching out as to touch it NOOOOOO!!!!!

her head turns her eyes are not her own... SISTER I BRING YOU THE BOX! she looks around wildly for Mon'Pere she spys him still standing a short distance from ashoka the flying sands and electrisity make it hard to see, hard to breath... she reaches Mon'Pere, falls off her horse he stands there and regaurds her with curiosity.. yes yes..what is it my business being here i am an outsider.. it stings but not enouph to want to be a part of that world..she pulls the box into view and shoves it toward him

Take it...
--------
(Qurant)
He snatches the box from the Regent and dashes towards the sphere with inhuman speed, knowing that not only he, but the entire world has precious few seconds left.

As he approaches the sphere he speaks the words of power that would erect a wall of pure energy, and directs it to rise between the Visier and sphere, effectively blocking her entrance to the ominous form.

Through their link Qurant sends what may very well be his last words to her, “Know that you are my favorite, and it is time for me to be…. a leader.” Then with the box cradled in his arm, he expends what mana and blood he can spare to protect himself, and hurdles himself into the sphere.
---------
(Gyann)
The last thing she sees... Mon'pere's eyes grow wide when she shoves the box up to his toes and him snatching it up he knew what to do, he envokes the words of power and the end is set in motion. the sand cutting at her skin the headyness of the atmosphere... blackness...
-----
(Ra'karn Moon)
Ra watches Qurant run off heading towards the sphere.
He smiles.
"**** it" Was all he said with a wide grin on his face as he too runs towards the sphere.
-----
(Ashoka)
Her Shriek of Fury split the dusk. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

In shock and disbelief, she watches the sphere swallow all those she holds dear, to what end, she knows not.
Death, Destruction, Chaos....

The Grand Vizier of Nujel'm staggers under the heavy weight of grief, and only the arms of her sister of the heart, the Regent, Lady Gyann, supports her slight frame. Gyann bends to hear her sister whisper brokenly..."Mon Pere......no..not thee too.."
Can he hear her plea....can he feel the desolation in her heart?
Now it was up to the Hunter. Did he know how torn she was? Did any of it matter anymore?

She raises agonized eyes to the Regent, seeing her only true friend in the world. One she must protect from all this evil at any cost. One who must never know the depths to which she had sunk, the nature of her soul.

And there on the sands of the tiny glittering isle of Nujel'm, Land of the fabled Golden Asp....two women stand, supporting each other, each heedless of the tears trickling down their faces, eyes focused on the huge pulsating sphere.
__________________
*the seal of House Sanctos: A Lion standing upright, holding an open book. A silver heart is within the book, and a serpent is coiled at the feet of the Lion*

(Garod)
Garod smiles at Vik'tors words and nods his head slightly "Ofcause I can not kill you as you say Vik'tor but I can end you. And as much as I would like to Destroy this pathetic piece of dirt Gabriel for all the trouble he has caused the only solution I see to this dillema is to destroy you and us all with it. Gabriel is wrong I am not in controll, for if I destroy him you are released and you are free to hunt all our kindred. If I destroy you,...well then we all go but my children and the rest of the kindred are free of both of you.
And so my choice or to be precise non-choice is hade easyer."

"But let us talk for a while longer, like you I am lith to end this. Tell me about this Gangrel you hold in such high regards and for who's unlife you are willing to sacrifice yours?"

"Oh and if you would please be so kind as to inform me when you start having trouble holding this Sphere, the last thing either of us wants is that this "thing" Garod nods towards Gabriel "ever escapes this place"

Garod moves closer to Vik'tor should Gabriel try anything untoward before his talk with Vik'tor has finished and that when the time comes he has an easyer time of it. He increases the power of his protection just in case then looks at the Hunter expectantly
-----
(Callum)
Callum looked at the ladies . He had sworn to protect Gyann at all costs and now he knew what he must do . He had to take the Box back , whatever it once held he would find out ... but now he suspected it had a new occupant as well .

He smiled a huge smile . It was his to bear and no one else's . He knew if he took it home to Naeloth then there were few who could be affected by its power or if it was now occupied then Naeloth was the safest place to house the Box .

There Ra Karn , Garod , Angelus and XIrzin could help keep an eye on things and events ...

Callum kneeled before Gyann .

" Milady Gyann . It is finally time that what was once mine is returned to me . The circle will then be complete . And do not fear I am cured of my obsession with her , the spirit of the box , and besides she seems to have company now "

He smiled awaiting her reply ...
---------
(Alynora)
Alynora jerks awake from her slumber in her chosen place of solitude with a sense of unease. Looking to her side, briefly remembering other places and other times, disoriented, she glances at the place in their bed where Garod had rested for so many decades and sees again the emptiness.

She gets up and wanders the house and shivers again with a feeling of foreboding, unable to go to sleep again. She mutters softly to herself, "so cold.. so cold.. " As she surveys the house she notices the armor gone and various other items. Knowing these did not leave their place of honor normally, her sense of dread increases. She tentatively stretches her mind out on old well used links to briefly touch with Garods to see if he is ok and reels back in shock at the situation.

Gathering herself together, she decides it is time once again to pay a visit to Callum, her trusted friend and erstwhile servant to see if he had accomplished her mission. If things were bad enough that Garod had taken out the armor, and from what she had seen, she needed what Callum was to bring to her. It would be her only way to survive. Then she would find Garod.

As she makes her way to Callum's house in Naeloth, she encounters his young daughter Scathach with her odd speech and behaviors. Thinking quickly, she changes her course of actions.

Remembering what Callum had told to them on the child's birth, of prophecies surrounding her and the eternal warrior, she approaches her and says, "Xaire Scathach. Come with me please. We have need of you.