The room was well below his normal standards, but suited his purpose well enough. Located in one of more than a dozen clone chain hotels that litter the airport area, it was suitably anonymous to serve as a decoy base.

Jason places the suitcase on the bureau, opening it only to withdraw an ornate briefcase, but otherwise ignoring it. He moves across the room and quickly arranges the bedcovers to give the illusion of use.

After a quick shower, the elf examines his clothing. He uses magic to fix any hint of wear, just as he uses a couple of spells to meticulously take care of his own personal grooming. As he dresses, the clothing shifts, transforming through magic into an elegant, midnight blue evening suit.

Jason retrieves the briefcase, and takes one last long look around the room. He focuses his attention on the Astral for a moment, concentrating on removing any trace of his presence, and especially his use of magic from the room.

A few moments later, Jason leans back and relaxes in the back of a taxi speeding its his way toward the elf's destination.

"Then, Nevermore I am to presume that you have never been to Brittany. That is a gloom beyond words and a fog which is quite dangerous.

"Each of us wears a mask Bob, masks of flesh, words, thoughts and deeds."

:: Nevermore smiles at the poetic responses the patchwork man gives. ::

"The way you describe it, it sounds much more interesting that Britan has any right to claim. I have been there once. I was not impressed."

The elf leans back and closes his eyes, his mind running over the card he held in his hand. He knew that traditionally it stood for a beginning, or the start of something bigger, but Jason just couldn't help attributing the more obvious, technically incorrect but not necessarily always erroneous interpretation whenever he saw it. He opened his eyes and looked again, almost disappointed that the face of the Tarot Card hadn't changed.

The Fool!

His musings are brought to an abrupt end as the taxi pulls up at its destination. Jason slots a certified credstick and then dismisses the cab. The golden-haired elf heaves a deep sigh, then after quickly checking his appearance, casually makes his way into the building.

"Well Brittany is not Brittain. No the English hold no sway in northern France, though a history teacher may say that their cultural influences in the 13th and 16th centuries are still felt today."

Willem watches the golden-haired elf pass them on his way into the building.

"The fog of Bretagne or Brittany is much like this building. Some would venture into its depths unknowingly and come out none the wiser, others lost eternally, and a rare few who truly See, but become blind to all other things, watching only the dancing figures in their mind.

"Shall we brave the task as well?"

Minako watches the gathering of individuals from the edge of her vision, not wishing to appear rude. Her anxiety rises slightly, none of them were local as far as she knew. Something was stirring in the layers below. She waited for the time and moment to move into the meeting place.

Walker reached his destination, coming out of the alleys onto one of the larger streets as he got within a block of the address he was given. He tried not to stand out excessively while walking down the street but he'd learned long ago that he simply didn't fit into the average European scene. There just weren't that many American Indian Orks wandering the streets of Prague these days.

His senses keyed, he strode along the street up to the building where he was to find out what exactly the Elders needed him to accomplish.

"Ah, that sounds much more interesting then. I shall have to make a point to check it out. I am interested to see which of the three paths lies in wait for me."

:: Nevermore nods to the building ahead as the meeting's participants begin to arrive. ::

"It seems the party is about to begin. Shall we make our grand entrance now?"

All

A slight tingle washes over everyone's skin as they enter. Training in the arcane arts would indicate that you've just passed through a ward, although not one set to stop astral entry, apparently, for no one is hindered in their passing. The door opens into a small office spall, decorated in an ancient style. Antique wood chairs and a desks take up most of the available space.

The room itself is empty, and shows signs of a long period of disuse. It is unlit, but an open door in the corner of the space shows a warmly lit hallway with another wooden door at the end of several meters of space.

This door, heavier then it appears to be on first glance, opens onto a wide open space, cavernous by any definition. 3 or 4 stories tall, the empty space is pitch black, with no sign of the windows that seem so numerous on the outside of the building. The wide open space is punctuated only by evenly spaced square white columns, each a meter on a side.

His sense of time must be worse than he had thought, because by the time Will got to the building, it was already time to be heading in. He hated to go in blind, but no saving that. He settled for observing the others who were entering, first in astral, then flipping his shades from lowlight to thermographic, and settling for the one that served better. It would be nice to finally have all this mystery out of the way.

Gliding from her position outside, Minako moves to follow a respectful distance behind the others entering the building. Once past the ward, she withdraws a distance from the group, watching and waiting.

Never pass up a chance to make an impression Freddie thinks.
Taking a look around the room Freddie can barely avoid laughing out loud. If the blind had any idea what was in this room, they'd never sleep again. Hell, they'd call out the Army, Air Force and fraggin Boy Scouts. Like that would be enough to get rid of US.
Freddie follows the crowd, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He may be here to kill one of these people after all. No point making an impression if he didn't need to.

There is a position open on the Low Council, left when a recent member of the Animus clan went "missing".
That tidbit had been poured into his ear the last time he saw Merry, she knew politics were always in the background and occasionally the foreground of his work.

Such a disappearance could be tied to the string of assassinations taking place recently. It would be a bold step to contact the factions and bring one operative from each together for a larger scale massacre. Some within the council could be that heavy handed, ancient minds to alien to comprehend, but most would not. It is possible that they have gathered this group together to investigate, believing that the presence of so many would make it difficult to cover the truth and misdirect.

Willem peered through the murky darkness, sensing the heat from each living organism. It would take effort to discover which carried the virus, but he must find out eventually. The Dracul Family is facing competition from a new vampire family, the Polekiev's and their representative could prove troublesome if she suddenly decided that now would be the perfect time for a coup.

For now, he must wait, the moment will present itself. Staying near the column, his senses extended over the room as much as they could, but this was a large place, built for greater powers, a place for the fourth age.

All

Everyone's worst suspicions and paranoia are brought to the forefront as a thud announces the arrival of a large, very solid looking slab of metal across the door you just entered through. Simutaneously, those viewing the world through the astral will spot a dozen or so figure drop from the ceiling at the far end of the room, through openings you were positive were not there a moment ago. To further add to the confusion, concealed vents in each of the columns suddenly began spewing smoke into the room, quickly turning the previously benign open space into a series of murky shadows and darting motions.

As the door was barred and the smoke filled the room, Will's hand instantly went to his sword, though he didn't draw just yet. He looked to astral, hoping to get a better look at the enemy. While he waited for them to come to him, he went through the incantation for a spell that would give him that little extra reaction time that had saved his life on numerous occasions.

There was a number of other people locked in the other room. Was one of the factions trying to get rid of a number of it's enemies at once? He was going to have to have a chat with Adam if this didn't turn out to just be an attempt for a flashy entrance. But for now, the focus was on survival.

As the smoke swirls around the cavernous open space, nothing can be seen of the shapes darting through the darkness but quick flashes of life on the astral or dark shapes on the mundane. The group reacts, beginning to spread out as Izzy and Lyra move forward, putting one of the large columns currently spewing smoke into the air between themselves and the unknown shapes. Just before he ducks around the column, Izzy is briefly able to make out the form of a human, in tight fighting clothing, sprinting along the floor. It leaps to the side, pausing ever so briefly against one of the columns, and springs off it, bouncing back and forth between several of them as it rushes forward.

A flash of mana ripples out from Kiyo, and suddenly a 12 meter circle of air surrounding the team is blessedly clear of smoke. However, it's obvious from the cloud already pushing in at the edges that it will not remain so for long. Around Minako, a whirlwind of cherry blossoms spring forth onto the mundane plane, the loose column obscuring her form behind a constant ebb and flow of movement.

The oddly dressed human woman rise straight of the ground and then forward, skimming the top of the 9 meter tall room as she searches for a solid look at one of the forms darting around the other end of the room.

Elusive shapes seem to be drawing closer, but at this distance and with the smoke it's impossible to tell.

Silence falls around Twilight as he releases the knots that bind his magic. Darkness sees and darkness knows all the secrets, just as his queen hears every whispered prayer and muttered curse in the shadowy places of the world.

Every act that takes place in darkness makes its way to her ears eventually. The Queen of Air and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, allied with the Goblin armies, She Who Holds the Leash of the Sluagh Hordes--those abominations which are terror made flesh, she will know and she will see. Twilight's choice was simple.

His hands slide under his coat, silent whispers of supplicant prayers to the court. The air ripples around him as he becomes smoke and fog.

"You violate the truce, reveal your belated truths."

Despite the hissing of the deploying smoke, a silence is born and grows from the space around Nevermore, the pistols out faster then the eye can track, body poised like a dancer waiting for the first note.

Holding herself ready and alert, Minako calls out to the others gathered around her. "Do we know who they are?" She tries to take comfort in the fact that she came here armed but still the fear is there in the back of her mind. I do not wish to die yet, the darkness is still too close to the Blind.

Izzy shrugs. "I have no clue, but I don't think now is the time to ask questions."

He swivels his head around and locks one of the mysterious figures in his gaze. His brow furrows in fierce concentration as he plucks a stream of mana from the astral, molds it into a spell, and sends the powerful orb of magical energy crashing down upon his quarry.

:: Nevermore's lips purse slightly as she senses the release of mana. She bites back the remark regarding the decision to step the action up to that level, preferring instead to reveal nothing until perceptions relating to the meeting have focused into some semblance of understanding. Judging from the invited guests, the ramifications of what was to happen could be monumental, or it could be one more attempt by the Blind to control that which they have no power over. Whether trap or test, she was ready to do what her Master had prepared her to do. ::

Walker felt the smoke flowing across his skin as the other people in the room moved, it burned and itched instantly, like the time he'd tried stalking a big white tail through a patch of nettles.

Gritting his teeth, and trying to focus his mind on the task at hand he breathed himself into astral view as he pulled his weapons and prepared to defend himself.

Twilight breathes in the darkness. This was his Queen's place of power. With a silent prayer to her eternal glory, the agent of the Court prepares.

Thoughts of failure never crossed his mind, nor the echoing eternity of the Hall of Mortality. Only the breathing of those around him, soft steps of padded boots on stone, the hiss of smoke filling the room. All under the warm blanket of inky black. He would serve his Queen and she would know.

Those with their vision currently in the astral will watch as a massive wave of mana ripples out from Izzy, leaping through the smoke and the darkness to strike a faintly seen shape. A shout of pain is cut short by the sound of a body striking the cement floor, and the figure will flicker into view several moments later, limbs twisted in unnatural angles as it lays still.

A second wave quickly follows the first, leaving fading after-images in the vision of those seeing into the astral. A cry rings out over the hiss of the smoke, followed quickly by the wet sound of a body impacted on concrete.

As the surge of mana recedes, Izzy sees yet another astral figure collapse, its aura dimming noticeably into the dark shades of unconsciousness.

Ah-ha! The wench knows to follow her master's lead without being told!

"Master" would do well to remember that he occasionally needs to sleep, and I don't. If he doesn't want to wake up one morning to find a piece of himself missing, I suggest that he never call me that again.

"Unless I've forgotten how to count, that makes two to bite the dust," Izzy calls out into the smoky gloom, his bland tone reverberating throughout the vast chamber. "Surrender now, and no one else has to die."

The only reply to Izzy's challenge is the hissing of the smoke and the light footfalls that herald the approach of the mysterious figures.

The encroaching smoke dissapates once more, leaving the area directly around the door thankfully free off the smoke. At the boundries of the smoke, a sudden swirl is the only notice as several figures dart out and towards the group.

One flashes over Twilight's head, almost close enough to touch, obviously intent on the poised gunfighter behind him, the swords becoming visible as they're ripped from their sheaths.

Another leaps up, touching one column long enough to push off and dive up at Freddy, swords drawn.

Now that they've moved into the clean section, the figures are dressed in ripples and shimmers of light, forms barely visible, the light shifting around them.

As the figures clear the smoke, Nevermore moves, pistols arcing up into seperate firing poses, the raccous shout of automatic weapons fire filling the area that has been, for the most part, fairly silent up till now.

The figure flying towards Freddy, dimly seen and even harder to track with the naked eye, hisses in pain as red blossoms out from wounds along it sides, but it continues the strike, driving the swords towards the apparently defenseless mage.

The second figure, already in mid air and moving over Twilight's head, twists and hits the ground hard as Twilight snags a foot and brings it crashing to the ground. Undaunted, it's already on it's feet and moving again, even as the second pistol fills the space between it and it's target with death. The rounds catch it along the shoulder and ribs, spinning the figure around. It lunges forward, almost desperately, swords searching for a chink in the gunslingers armor.

The figure moving through the air towards the Freddie does an obvious double-take as the swords are ripped from it's grasp, but undaunted it coils and drives towards the floating figure regardless, hands a blur as it strikes.

Freddie's floating figure moves, sweeping the incoing strikes aside and knocking the shimmering form back into the column to drop to the ground. It lands crouched, however, and looks ready to spring again.

The second figure, intent on impaling Nevermore, stumbles backward as she twists the guns in her hand, parrying the blades to one side with one pistol and striking the figure in a series of almost drum-like beats in the chest and face with the other.

The figure beneath Freddie crouches and prepares to spring again. For those of you viewing the astral, a solid streak of light darts through the astral from Freddie, slamming into the figure and knocking him sliding back across the floor several meters.

Nevermore twists from the spread-armed shooting stance, sweeping the guns down and knocking the swords aside, slamming the butts of the heavy pistols into the face of the figure, driving him back several steps. As soon as space appears, she snaps both pistols back out, firing a series of four short bursts so fast it almost sounds like fully automatic fire. The figure flickers and blinks into being as the rounds twist it's body around, the rapid movement from bullet impacts shorting out the camoflague clothing as the figure slumps to the ground.

A whirlwind of twisting light and twisting shadows surrounds Minako, translucent petals and flashing slivers of silver filling the air around her, seeming to dance and weave with the movements of her body.