Bishop:
In nomine Patri

You draw clean line of fire down on the frozen guards shoulder and depress the trigger slightly.

Ic Filli

A similar shot finishes the hound, its breath filling the air with the scent of brimstone.

Espiritu sanctum

Without a second glance at your work, you jog forward towards the gate. The last guard had been running in your direction but quickly veers off and heads for the chateau after his companions don't respond to his frantic comm calls.

Bishop jogs, due east to meet the guard as he heads north towards the house. Lord, be with me...

Once he is within 70 meters of the road, he slows and moves at a walking pace, trying to keep himself hiden from notice and waits for the guard to come into range.

While he moves, he relays a message over the comms, "Ralley point changed. Head to the yellow dot on your maps. Guard located at front gate, but moving towards house. I am engaging now and will meet Invasion Team at the ralley point.

MAP

With the guard in an open position, Bishop slowly watched the rangefinder countdown until optimal positioning. Rising slightly to take a knee from his low crouch, the tactician fired once. The shotgun falls back, hanging loose on its sling, after its purpose has been served. A lone figure in security armor jogs forward to take two well aimed shots at the last guard and hound under the night sky.

The pistol is holstered.

Bishop turns to continue on to the meeting point and pauses, thinking. Pulling the shotgun back up ito his hands, he catches the glint of light reflecting back from the barrel. The action precedes the thought, his body moving faster than conscious command.

A jump and roll into the snow deftly moves one teammate from the road. The van on loan from your neighborhood smugglers, hits a patch of ice and slides, brakes useless. It slams through the front gate, electrical sparks arcing away from the ruined iron.

Another bellow from the underbarrel grenade launcher sends a thin capsule arcing towards the limo where it rests parked in front of the chateau. Freeze foam bursts out and around, locking onto tires and filling every crack and crevice in the undercarriage.

Meanwhile, ghosts in the snow, several bounty-hunters jump over fences and keep an ever vigilant eye open for hidden threat. They converge, winter masked faces looking at visages that only desire the hunt.

Astral space is filled with echoes and screams of dying spirits, the land weeping for the violence visited upon it through the incarnate will of mortal kin. The wood-skinned hunter fades away, bearing the gibbering shadow with it. A hound and his mistress stand alone, watching the astral signatures of her companions closing in on one another. On the horizon another astral presence comes soaring forward, leaving a sky based chariot carrying hunters of another breed.

Bishop gives a nod to everyone as they hone in on his possition. "Alright boys. Lets go get this bastard. Tigger, you have point."

Helios mutters, "Damn..." as he hears that Tigger's got point.

Oh well, the time would come when he'd get his chance.

Taking the second position directly behind Tigger, Helios switches on his adept Thermographic vision, keeping an eye out for enemy heat signatures with his SMG at the ready.

This is it, Helios thinks. No turning back now.

Bishop glances sideways at Helios as the team makes their way behind Tigger. "Tell me you have Gel rounds in that thing... We're bounty hunters, not murderers, right?"

"You're joking, right?" Helios replies. "You don't carry stun rounds in my line of work; you shoot to kill, or they bite to kill. That simple."

Bishop stops dead in his tracks, looks Helios dead in the eyes, and says, "Go back to the van and watch over them. Now. Tehse guards are people, not targets."

"You want to take down all the guards surrounding this guy with your stun rounds?" Helios replies, staring back at him. "Fine. But I'm not going to sit out of bringing this Infected freak down."

"We aren't bringing him down. We're bringing him in. Thats been the plan from the begining, or have you not been paying attention?"

Graves steps between Bishop and Helios,"We don't have time to debate this. We need to move now and we might need his firepower. Helios and I'll take care of the guard animals, you do the guards. If and when vamps and ghouls show up, Helios will take care of those." Taking a firm grasp of both persons' arms (and he can be very firm), he shoves both of them towards in Tigger's direction. "We don't have time to debate this drek. And I don't want to freeze my balls off out here in the cold."

"Down, in...once he's strapped in the electric chair for bio-warfare, it won't make any difference. Either way, I'm staying."

"Fine. Deal with the hellhounds then. Just don't use lethal force on a human being."

I knew he'd give us problems. Lord, give me patience.

Bishop falls in behind Tigger, eyes peeled.

"Fine. Glad we agree."

Helios continues on, right behind Tigger.

Coward.

Tiny makes sure that all is ready just incase he has to open fire at the guards. Hoping that the Gel round will take the guards down quickly, even with all the well padded clothing.

"Let me know if you need me to take the Guards down at the gates, now or in a few minutes."

As the team regroups at the rally point, the only thing visible of the dog shaman is his light breathing. He reappears, next to Kane, both panting in cadence.

Stepping in with Graves, between Bishop and Helios, trying to keep the piece.

"Helios, even though this guy is a bastard, and probably infected, if he does have the cure, isnt that what you are fighting for? His methods deserve punishment," turning to Bishop, "and justice." He turns back to Helios, "If the end result is a cure for the HMHVV, we need to keep this piece of horsedrek alive, if possible."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dont worry, leave the hellhounds to me. It will be an addition to our team to have a couple hounds with us," JT says hinting at his shamanic abilities.

"Negative. I've seen you do magic before. Subtle you ain't, just keep spells off us. Bishop, the guards are wearing armour, if we don't aim for the head or pump full auto, the guards shouldn't die if we do shoot them. And stun rounds aren't exactly effective against armour."

"I never said it would be subtle, just that it would be worth it. Trust me, if there are any more hellhounds, I can turn them against their masters."

"Ever heard of the saying,'Geek the mage first'?"

Edana:
Even as your teammates bicker and argue amongst themselves, the astral form that was moving towards you closes the distance enough for you to make out a solid form.

A massive troll, his incarnate will cloaking his body in chitinous plates and razorwire, moves forward. In his hands, the mage carries a glowing greatsword wreathed in the fire of the northern sky.

Team:
The sound of a pack of hellhounds all bending their heads back at once to call out to the moon, echoes across the valley stretching from high mountain to the lowlands that you stand in. Kane's howl joins the pack as feral aspects of the Dog sweep across the snow and ground. You feel the magic touch each one of you, counting every life essence for a great tally sheet. The mana grounds back into JT as his divinations impart wisdom upon him.

Bishop just sighs and lets it go. Inside, he knows there are few left in the world to respect life as he does. So what if they wear armor? They haven't heard of aiming for the head?

"Let's just do this."

Team:
Heightened senses begin to pick up the soft whirring of a helicopter moving stealthily closer to the compound.

"Edana's got company." A brief message crackles across the network from Tigger's comm unit. Tiny has been lumbering along with the main team, the van and the storm-ridden shamaness' body under the watchful eye of Charlie and Gonzales.

Glass shatters behind you.

A spider web crawling across the windshield of the van. A second spider web begins moving to intercept the creeping tendrils of the first. The movement of a dark shadow against the deep purple sky shows a rifleman pulling himself back into the helicopter.

"Damn!" Helios curses as the rain of fire from the helicopter hits the van.

"Well, there goes our ride. Anyone got a rocket handy?" he asks sarcastically, knowing full well the team can't shoot down that thing, especially not these guys.

Stun rounds... he thinks to himself incredulously. What the hell was I thinking signing on with these guys?

"Nope. But I got something else for them... Take cover!"

Bishop pushes himself up on a tree, keeping it between himself and the chopper. He tells his suit to go all white, as he may have to run and the Ruth's won't be able to keep up. The SPAS-22 swings into possition with its underbarrled grenade launcher.

"Van team, respond! Can you back that thing up about 15 meters to use that tree as cover?"

Bishop:
Only silence echoes back from the radio and your teammates in the van.

"Drek. I'm going to check on the van. I think we got people down in there! Tigger, go ahead and continue your hunt, I'll catch up, tracking you on the BattleTac. JT, want to join me? I'd like a little mojo backup."

Bishop doesn't wait for an answer, he breaks into a run, trying best he can to let the white color and Thermal Masking on his armor keep him hidden from the chopper.

With Bishop running towards the van, Tigger begins at a vigorous pace to the chateau. The hunter uses the natural cover to the best of his abilities, clinging to underbrush and staying under the canopy until the last possible moment.

Graves shakes his head in the negative,""Entry team needs magical backup more. Go check on the van. But we need magical cover for the people going in. Edana's ally spirit should still be around to cover you."

Bishop slows as he nears the van, and looks over his shoulder once more at the helicopter. "Graves, you're the only one with gear that can cover the range on that bird. Can you lay down some cover fire for me? Sending data over BattleTac now, just aim for the little red X."

Bishop tags the shooter as he crouches in the helicopter. He then puts his guns away and actives his Rutheniums as he closes on the van.

Helios follows Tigger towards the chateau, keeping a sharp eye out for any hostile heat signatures.

The hunter struggles to resist the urge to sprint past Tigger and sprint for the chateau himself. He's so pumped right now he feels he could take down the entire security force.

This is taking too damn long, he thinks.

Bishop:

The van is operational, your mind assessing the inanimate objects first. Slowly it unwraps t allow each creeping horror in. Blood spray, chilling to blue in thermographic with it's dying red core. The ride is definitely going to be cold if you drive the van with the two punctures in the windshield. Gray matter, you won't be getting the security deposit back on this one.

You move along the side of the van, interposing its mass between the helicopter and yourself. Charlie's head is hanging to one side at a painful angle. Opening the driver's side door, Gonzales tumbles out at your feet. The diminutive dwarf has a third eye opened on his forehead from the impact. He obviously had gotten up into the seat fully and slumped back down after the gunshot killed him. Reaching forward, you realize that the old man is a lost cause as well.

Cradled in Charlie's arms, a lightning storm rages. Little sparks of energy crackle at your fingers as you touch Edana. Her body seems unharmed, but it's hard to tell how much if any of the blood soaking into her clothing and matting her hair is her own or simply that of her protectors.

Chateau team:
Dodging from tree to tree, you try to avoid tripping over the roots that jump out of the ground at treacherous angles. In the air, you catch a glimpse of the chopper moving towards the far side of the chateau. Rappel cables drop.

The barking of hell hounds grows louder, each step brings you closer to the baying noise.

When you see the attack helicopter again, the four lines are wavering in the air as it regains altitude again.

Graves lays down some cover fire for Bishop.

Lord, be with them, take them into your arms and forgive them their transgressions.

The comms crackle to life, but its a moment before Bishop can bring himself to speak, "Two men down. Charlie and Gonzales are out. Edana looks ok, but she's still out of body. I'll wait with her till she comes to."

Bishop goes to work pulling Edana's body out from under Charlie while trying to get as little blood on himself as possible. I don't want her waking up under him, that would be too much for anyone to handle.

Edana spreads her arms, cloudy cloak flaring, sword blazing, waiting for the advancing foe to move, to commit. A darkness flickers up the silver cord of her soul, chattering at the edges of her essence. Elsewhere, somewhere impossibly distant, something has gone very wrong. She smiles, wolfishly as the troll comes. Herne moving, radiates a smell somewhere between the copper of rage and the freshness of snowdrops, circling wide, panting, jaws agape as he tracks the entry team and the incoming threat to his mistress.

Sturmdottir, I am only a thought away.

Likewise. Let the team know I am okay. Stay with them. Her cloak of woven storms wraps around her, lashing in unfelt winds.

Herne has vanished from her sight even before his acknowledgement registers. He materializes in his True Form near Graves. A nearly seven foot tall man - bare-chested, skin crawling with eye-bending runes, face half masked with owl feathers, brow crowned with a spreading rack of stag's antlers - appears in total silence at the former operative's side. He crouches in the snow, wild personified, eyes lamp-like and unblinking in the dim. His voice resonant and so heavily accented it is hard to parse - but the power behind the voice makes the meaning plain, "Edana faces a foe across the Veil. She has commanded me here, but I would return to her side."

He does not blink as Grave relays Edana's physical state, but stands and stares skyward. Sturmdottir, there has been an accident...

Edana swallows the fear that stabs out from Herne's message, a message that makes sense of the chattering darkness along the silver thread of her soul. Oh... Gonzales! And Charlie! She shivers, pushing the thoughts away and focuses on the fight before her.

I will Call if I need you, Herne. Help the others.

Herne turns his amber eyes back to Grave, disapproval flickers in the Spirit's gaze so quickly that Grave might think it a trick of the light, "How may I assist?"

Edana:
The troll hovers only a few meters away, sword drawn. His strength and reach are far superior to your own, you are sure that only skill and cunning will allow you to succeed.

"Flee from this fight child. You cannot hope to win. Stay and I will see to it that you feel the death of your hound."

Muscles flex and pull under the insectoid plates that armor his body. Moonlight warbles and bends around the sharp barbs in the razorwire that wraps his frame.

Grave:
Sighting down the length of your carbine, you compensate for wind and altitude. With a little faith that the information fed to you by the battletac system is correct, and confirmed by visual report, you squeeze back on the trigger. The butt of the rifle gives a solid report against your shoulder as a short burst fires with explosive force.

Two of the exploding rounds hit the armor of the helicopter but the last round goes into the side compartment where the sniper was last seen. Quickly the helicopter begins to break away. It will probably return later to pick up the team deposited on the far side of the compound.

Chateau Team:
You break through the last of the cover and lay on all the speed you can muster as you cross the clear space to the chateau. The mansion is three stories with a heavy handed sense of Gothic architecture. Its construction probably predated the arrival of settlers in Jamestown.

The downstairs is dark, each window heavily curtained to keep the cold air out. Cameras turn on each corner, swiveling with a full SOTA sensor pack to watch the grounds. Pushing on to the door, you are confronted with a high grade maglock and keypad.

Inside you hear the sounds of chaos as house forces try to rally against an attack on two flanks. On the other side of the building, there's a muffled explosion, probably a plastique charge detonating.

"Screw this; I'm not letting the competition get this guy."

Jumping up onto the ledge next to the nearest window, Helios pulls his silenced Manhunter and fires into the glass.

You're mine, ghoul.

Edana opened herself to the emotional core of the wild remote place, the breadth of its history, the tension of its present, the long and storied life of the place and the impression of hundreds and thousands of years of human experience – the syllables of the Chateau’s name echoed in her brain – Sang Real… Sangreal… sangraal - flashing images flickered through her soul and one rises to the surface – a knight, struggling through a rainstorm, lightening crashing all around as he pulls the reins of a balking and terrified horse up the twisting path the gates of the forbidding chateau fortress. A woman at his side, wrapped in a heavy mantle puts a hand on the horse’s neck and it’s wild flailing stops. The knight drops to his knees and kisses the muddy hem of her skirt, she looks down at him and lightening flashes striking all around, illuminating her face and her unfathomable eyes…

“This is a place of storms and blood. Sacred, royal blood. Stand down. Or be cut down.”

Her voice trembles with the unspent rage of a storm, and she smells of wind and bracken. I am water to your stone. She thinks of the Boyne carving its way through the wild of her home in Tir na nOg, the wild River that paralyzed her with fear. She thinks of it, hoping that the troll will see the weakness and seize it. For the daughter of storms is neither water, nor stone - she is the wind - ethereal, ephemeral, untouchable.

She gives the troll his opening and waits for him in his arrogance to attack...

Helios:
The window shatters under the onslaught of attacks. Kicking the remnants of sharp glass away with your boot, you push the curtain aside. Bookcases line the walls, priceless works of art tastefully displayed. A fire smolders in the corner of the room, banked until the morning. To your right is a door, probably opening onto the Foyer and the building security force. Straight ahead another door stands ajar, fronted by bookcases.

Helios very carefully makes his way to the door ahead of him that's ajar, slinking into any shadows and being silent as possible.

Flattening his back against the wall right next to one of the bookcases beside the door, Helios raises his pistol and subconsciously increases his hearing ability, listening carefully for any sounds that would set off red flags in his alert mind.

Edana:
Rasial studies your features watching the anger that beats and pulses off of you like the running winds that herald the coming storm. There, a quiver in your eyes, fear.

"It shall be as you wish."

He turns away and takes a step. Your guard drops fractionally, still playing him, fully-aware of his expectations.
One step, another.

You raise your guard immediately when you watch the weight shift to the ball of his foot, shoulder dropping. Rasial spins, his greatsword arcing with him. The crash of blade against blade thunders in your mind. He is careful to stay at a distance, using his superior reach to defend himself even as he lays out each attack. Testing blows, you each begin reading your opponent. Though your physical body would be frail by comparison to his, here your resilient will should suffice to shrug off his blows. Your opponent would trust rather to reality bent to his whim to survive, his astral armor is heavy and thick designed to ward off even strong blows.

A quick exchange leaves Rasial with a slight limp as you slide the flat of your blade under his guard and bring it down upon the troll's knee. Pressing your advantage you dive through, the soft packed snow melts into your astral form. With a roll back onto your feet, you take off running for Herne. The slice along Rasial's inner thigh slows him down enough that the crack of the emotional whip connecting you to your ally sounds clearly.

Feral features, show the lack of restraint that Herne is feeling. He moves behind Rasial, padding on silent feet so as not to give away his position.


Rasial cries out, his voice echoed in the crackling lightning which strike down in the ground around you. The electricity arcs into your body and resonates outward, keeping the mind-shaped steel from touching your perfect form.

Ally and mistress, a flawless connection, meant for great work.

With an attack more meant to distract than injure, you pull the chitinous warrior off-balance. Herne rushes in, forms shifting from hound to bird of prey as he hamstrings Rasial and beats his wings twice to gain altitude. A bellow of pain rings out, muffled by the thunder responding to the lightning strike. The greatsword swings low, wher the abdomen of a human would've been and the raptor dives claws scratching and wings buffeting the troll.

"This ends now." A deep masculine voice rolls out of your throat, the sound of a father, an archer, a brother. The Hunter.

A verdant wreath masks your features as you focus your will. A distortion forms in the air between the forsaken hunter and the Blessed. Holes are torn through Rasial's spiritual body, disrupted the silver chain snaps back to its true form.

Like a bow launched from an arrow, you course through the night air following behind the silver cord. The sniper who killed Gonzales and Charlie is actively bandaging the wounds that have erupted on Rasial's flesh. No chitinous plates and razorwire to protect this body. You watch the actions as astral forms glow dimly, enchantments still active, trapped by physical connections.

Herne slowly moves into the helicopter, his hand resting over a ring. Another hand slowly closes around the hilt of the great sword. Materializing into being, he slips both items into his possession and falls out the side of the chopper.

Watching him fall, you study the intricate patterns woven into the metal blade. Pieces of Rasial impressed upon the enchantment.

"Learn, my child."

Clarity of thought presses upon you and suddenly understand. You know the how and where of severing a connection, breaking a link.

There is a rushing sound and a pop of pressure as your body takes weight and substance again. You hear the quiet breathing of Bishop as he cradles you against his body. He's bleeding, no the blood's not his. It's all over you, the scent permeating into your nostrils. Your skin is cold and tacky with uncongealed blood cooling and fighting the freezing process thanks to your own body heat.

Charlie. Gonzales. This has to be theirs.

Graves sighs with relief as Edana stirs back to life. "Edana, you alright?" Through the BattleTac system, "Entry team, be advised, you have hostiles in the building with you. Turn on your BattleTac, people, so that Bishop can coordinate our tactical movements."

Graves takes a last look at their fallen comrades and whispers,"We'll be back, y'hear? We'll get him." Gesturing towards the chateau, "Alright, let's find out what behind door numba one!"

Again the dogs dissapear from mundane view, waiting on the teams decision on how to enter the chateau.

Helios:
Shotguns and small arms fire echo down the hallway, it appears the attack has commenced by the Society. You tread quietly down the wide passage. Several doors lead off of the hallway and a set of stairs is visible in the main foyer. A figure wearing light security armor, black with a red insignia on the shoulder raises his assault rifle and fires the underbarrel grenade launcher. He's either shooting blind or has a solid understanding of the building's layout.

The cylinder detonates in midair as it reaches the foyer. Blinded by smoke, the guards scream, hot flecks of iron and sulfur float amid the smoke.

Edana opens her eyes and looks feeling a chill settle deep into her bones. She looks up at Bishop with wet eyes. Her hand covers her mouth and she swallows. Bishop’s eyes are deeply sad. She sees the shadows of loss and grief in the enigmatic man's eyes. She swallows again, struggling out of the van, freezing as she catches sight of Charlie and Gonzales turning gray in the wreckage. Dead. She turns back to Gonzales, unshed tears stinging her nose and the back of her throat. She brushes the dwarf’s hair from his brow, strands sticking in the ugly congealing hole in the center of his forehead. “Oh Gonzo…” she whispers. “What will I tell Jason...”

Chatter on the team’s comms snaps her head up and around to Bishop and Grave. Grim anger flashes across the woman’s face and she palms her p-sec, tapping the keys briefly and scanning until she hisses in anger. She pops open the back of the van and retrieves both bows and an assortment of arrows, she shrugs at Bishop, then nods that she’s ready to follow him in with the rest of the team.

She flips the mic down toward her mouth and speaks, voice strained and hollow, unsteady as she trots after the two operatives, <<Seems we have company. The Society are another Bounty Hunter organization. Organized, well-funded. Slick. Herne and I took out their mage in Astral combat. He’ll live, but Herne recovered some trophies off him for us. A weapon focus that we might be able to use to get them to stand down... Want me to send them a message?>>

Herne streaks in, a threatening greatsword held in his talons, he drops the blade, shifts to his True Form and catches the sword neatly in his hand. A ring glimmers on his finger. Good work, Herne. Here, catch.She weakly tosses the ranging spirit his bow which he catches neatly in his free hand. He nods to her, Grave and Bishop, eyes gleaming. Edana and Herne pace along behind, feet crunching in the snow.

"None will escape us." The simple statement is a promise.

Bishop gives Edana a long look, then nods for them to move on. The comms crackle, "Invasion Team, Van group moving in n... Helios, why are you in the building? Invasion Team, why are you breaking up? Tigger do you still have the trail? Edana, Graves, and myself will circle around back and see what we can find out about this other team, not to mention those Hellhounds. Give me some feedback people."

Back to a jogging pace, Bishop changes his armor to a snow camo patern and pulls his shotgun around to the ready.

Helios:
Spots dance across your vision. A ringing builds up along your inner ear as your nervous system starts misfiring, sedning faulty signals to your brain. The smoke which is filling the downstairs is obviously laced with something. You'll need to move quickly.

Bishop:
The ring. It couldn't be, not here, certainly not now. Memories of a life abandoned crash against the wall of self-discipline you have surrounded yourself with since turning your back on the Cardinal and his men.

Herne's newly acquired ring is a match for the one that an organization of hunters wore. They hunted the Cardinal's enemies and all the other things that went bump in the night.

Chateau Team:
Tracking along the side of the chateau, Kane barks at one of the windows. A bank of snow has built up enough that you can walk up a natural ramp to the window sill. The team from the van arrives at the clearing as Tigger pulls away from the glass.

"Sounds quiet, except for the gunfire and screams." A boyish smile twinkles in his eye.

Tiny nods and places his hands to the heavy wood and lifts. The frost along the seal causes the window to stick a little but then it slides open. Heavy curtains obscure the room.

Counter-Intrusion:
You head along the edge of the undergrowth after a quick handsignal to the other half of your team. At the back of the house, the kitchen door swings idly ajar. The lock obviously removed through the judicious use of explosive charges.

A kennel sits off from the house about fifteen meters. This is obviously where the hell hounds are being kept, there are communal cages and the occupants are obviously riled up about something. Fiery breath occasionally shoots out across the yard in the direction of the manor.

"Helios, why are you in the building?"

Slightly dazed, Helios taps the Battlecom link.

"I'm not letting these guys get away with this ghoul," Helios answers. "You guys better get in here; they've got rifles with grenade launchers, and I think their grenades are laced with some sort of stun gas. I'm gonna have to move on or else breathe more of this crap, so get in here fast."

Helios holsters his Manhunter and unslings his SMG, readying it to fire.

"I don't mind telling you that the 'no killing' rule is off now that these bastards have shot at me."

Trying to shake off the effect of the stun stuff (whatever it was) as best he can, Helios heads up the stairs, keeping his SMG pointed ahead of him and ready to blast whoever comes at him at a moment's notice.

"I'll do what I can, but I'll need some serious support." Helios says into the comlink.

Wrong Thread.