Edana sends to her Ally, Pull around the side there. We're coming down now. Downtown goes out the window and Edana looks at Kraxus. Wow, I guess I should have known, but these guys are the real deal.

No kidding. It is uncertain which part of Edana's statement Herne is agreeing with.

"Which of you two is better with obscuring astral signatures?" Edana asks as they move. A thought occurs to her and she turns to the nurse who'd helped them. She runs over to her, coat flaring and braids twisting as she hurries.

"Thank you. Very much. I'm sorry if..." She reaches a hand out and stops. Her mouth opens and closes. The elevator chimes. The young woman looks over her shoulder. There isn't time for more. She turns and flees.

She slips into the elevator as the doors are closing. It buzzes with impatience. "Sorry," she says lamely. Kraxus and Gellawyn share a look and then look back at her. As if they were speaking.

Of course! They are speaking!

Herne's sending ripples with amusement, So many responses I could make...

Edana's mind-silence is eloquent.

She looks down at Michael's inert form. "As we go, can one of you doctor the signatures we've left. Er... I've left, mostly."

Gellawyn places her hand in the path of the closing doors of the elevators. She waits for Kraxus to nod to let her know the cleansing was finished. A few moments pass and he nods. She withdraws her hand and the tired chime of the doors weakly echoes into the small space as they descend to the 1st floor. As soon as the doors open, she steps out and makes her way to the nearest exit stairwell.

Holding the door open for the others to pass through, she closes the door behind her and makes her way back to the front. Pausing to examine the security system before reaching for the tools at her waist.

"Give me a moment to deal with this." Gellawyn kneels and begins to work on the door mechanism.

Kraxus
Embracing the teachings and memories that He gave you, you extend your arm and willpower and wrap the feelings of hatred, pain and death around you. Each weak thread melts away as it is pulled against the fire of your authority.

Gellawyn
You quickly pull the front plate off of the door alarm. The device is easily disarmed and re-assembled. Rerouting the signal to the network as a final step, you finish the adjustments and rise to your feet.

Placing the last of the tools back away, Gellawyn turns to Kraxus as she slides the case closed on the tool kit. "Do you have any way for us to avoid being spotted by air-borne drones?"

Kraxus nods, giving himself a moment to focus and murmuring quietly in Sprethiel.

"We shall not be ourselves when we leave this place."

The group that moved through the doorway less then 30 seconds later was a very different colletion of people then those were previously assembled.

On the gurney, a burly orc lay attached to a number of machines and support devices. Walking along to guide the orc were 3 human orderlies, 2 men and a woman. Both men were caucasian, brown hair, brown eyes, nothing to catch the eye. The woman was a dirty blonde, also caucasian, and all the uniforms mimiced the floor nurses from Bishop's floor.

With a nod, Gellawyn opens the door and holds it as the others pass through. Scanning the area for any potential threats and looking for their ride out of here.

The orderlies push the gurney along the hospital towards the curb. A black SUV pulls forward and out steps a man in military fatigues. Something unworldly pulses in his appearance and movements, but the orc is loaded in to the back of the brumby with precision and care.

Within seconds, the orc is black-bagged and vanishes from the world in the tender mercies of unmarked vehicles and military intelligence...

With Herne behind the wheel, you pull away from the hospital and are quickly lost from the scene into the flow of traffic in the afternoon. Downtown passes your vehicle as you get on to I-5 and head south one exit.

Kraxus allows the threads of mana covering the forms unravel and dissapate into the ether, dropping the illusions as the group speeds away on the highway.

He glances at Edana briefly from his seat, and appears to choose his words carefully.

"I believe our original plan to lure Ulik out and gain the information we need through subterfuge is...inefficient. We cannot afford to delay that acquisition, and we need that information to move further up the chain.

Since we know his location, we will prepare and attack him directly, subdue him, and then I will gather the information we need. He is already entangled in the attack on Bishop, and as such, I have no compunctions about dealing with him in a direct fashion. We will need to take him alive, however, so that I can gain the information we need.

We will need somewhere we can take Bishop. Does anyone know of a clinic similar to this one that won't ask any questions about out situations? After we get him taken care of, we'll rendevous back at the orc's apartment to plan our action."

A summary of the information is passed over to Downtown via cellphone as the group discusses the next step.

Kraxus nods as the group provides the answer.

"All right then, Herne, change course. We're headed for the nearest public hospital."

His eyes drifting closed, he gathers the flows and waves of mana around him, the quiet chant of Sprethirel filling the vehicle as he again cloaks the three members of the group in illusion.

The illusion fades and Edana is herself again. A sadness wells in her chest, a surprising surge of emotion from a war she thought was won long ago. She forces herself to focus on the events unfolding - unravelling - before her eyes.

"I don't want to leave Michael at just any place," says Edana. "I have a call in to a friend. Let's just keep moving until we hear back from him. We can plan here as well as anywhere. Better, maybe."

She glances behind them as Downtown peels off headed somewhere else, the bumper of Crash's truck hanging on by a whisker. She cringes mentally. What was he thinking? She curses herself quickly, I'm not one to judge rash actions. I just... what did I just do?

Herne growls as he flips the signal off. His resonant, gravelly voice handily contains his exasperation with the mortals he's found himself in the company of, "Where to?"

The spirit hasn't dismissed Kraxus' command, not that Kraxus could properly command him anyway, but the mortal makes sense, more sense than his mistress often does. Edana senses Herne's exasperation and his restraint. And his evaluation of Kraxus. And her. Jealousy lurches in her chest, but she has to agree, Kraxus and Gellawyn are way out of her league.

Edana nods, "And what next?"

"You should contact Downtown, and have him conduct physical recon on the location, and have Crash do something similar with Ulik's Matrix security. We've already probed the astral security, and we can deal with that.

Once we know what we're dealing with, we'll pick an opportune moment to confront Ulik directly and find out what he knows. In the meantime, Gellawyn, can you contact your associate in the Tir, and I'll check with a contact of mine? I'd like to locate some Gamma-Scopalene before we deal with Ulik. It should leave him more susceptible to giving us the information we need."

Edana places the call to Downtown. She can hear muttering in the background. Agitated muttering. "Did you tell him about the tr... nevermind. So... can you, um, head down to this Ulik's place and check it out."Her accent is unusually thick. "Yeah. In the flesh. Maybe check in or something." She shrugs at Kraxus with an I-dunno-I'm-just-winging-this look.

"Yeah. We'll be-"

"Yeah. Okay. Call us when you've got something. Oh, and have Crash send us his surveillance."

She cuts the connection. She looks at Michael's body, calm and peaceful, under the watchful and dangerous eyes of the elves. "One more call."

Edana's voice is quiet as she navigates her way through the buffer of her 'Uncle's' various attaches.

She lapses into Irish as she speaks, a lilting guttural language that, if you weren't listening closely, might sound like English. Her words come out in a rush, her cheeks flushing with shadows and whickering bolts scattering under the paleness of her colorless skin. Herne glances over at her, an unfathomable look on his face. She swallows, choking back a sob. Edana's free hand tightens on her coat as she speaks. In a few moments she's done. She nods, and murmurs something. "Thank you. Call me as soon as you know something."

"Thanks. Bye."

She cuts the connection and sits quietly for a moment, going slack against the seat, leaning her head back. She puts a slim hand over her brow and eyes. "We should have a place to leave Michael soon."

Kraxus exchanges a glance with Gellawyn as the obviously emotional conversation takes place.

He nods as Edana speaks, leaning forward slightly to speak with Herne, giving directions.

"I'll need to speak with my contact face to face, if possible. He works with the Ancients in the Barrens. They control the area, so it should be safe enough for Michael."

Edana:
A few minutes go by and Uncle Jim calls you back.

"I've secured a room at a hospital in Ballard. One of the administrators at the Swedish Medical Center, owes me a favor. The hospital staff will take him in without questioning why he is not arriving in an ambulance or who you are.

"Also, I wanted to find a better time to tell you, but, probate has taken a few steps backwards. I'm sorry, it appears that someone within the Tir is taking active steps to roadblock my efforts. To try and stop them, I will be flying out this afternoon for a few days."

The call is forced to end quickly as another incoming call chimes in on your P-sec. Crash in profile appears on the screen in your caller ID section.

"Crash calling little troll lady. Crash is still watching bad man's hotel. Bad man hasn't left yet."

Edana's shoulders sag at Jim's news. Good. She closes her eyes. "We've got a safe place for Michael." She nods taking the info from her Uncle, the good news with the bad. "Have a safe flight. Call me when you get back."

Crash's call comes in, "Okay. Good. Thanks, Crash. Keep us posted."

She gives Herne the directions, "Hope you two don't mind if we get him settled in first." A toss of Edana's braided head indicates Michael. Herne signals and switches lanes, a band of relief expanding out of him as a decision is reached. The brumby rolls on headed for a clinic north and west of the city center.

Exiting the 5 freeway at 45th street, you drive past the smaller college extension buildings and finally drop down the hill into Ballard. The area is primarily middle class, with small boutiques offering up the personalized touch to sararimen.

The Swedish Medical Center is an imposing structure on the corner of 38th and NW Market. Turning a corner into the heavier traffic, minor surges of mana peak within the SUV. By the time you arrive at the hospital, Kraxus is content with the realism of his masks.

Two EMTs step out and wheel-out a gurney from the back of an ambulance. Discussion of patient transfers from a clinic on the east-side and a listing of medical record archival numbers exchange hands.

The EMTs get back into the ambulance and that same otherworldly sense from the driver carries through, though the chances of anyone recognizing a batch of military personnel and EMTs is slim.

With each corner turned, another aspect of the illusion fades and you are soon left without the tingling embrace of the universe bent to the will of the individual.

"At this point, I think we should focus on speed. Unless Downtown has turned up anything problematic, we should move tonight. We'll have Crash deal with as much security as he can. We'll use the physical recon information to scout an entry point."

He glances to Gellawyn. "Anything else to consider?"

She pauses, making lists in her head and playing out scenarios. "I think that's what we can do for now, we'll need to focus on non-lethal means of taking him down or be prepared with immediate medical attention." She looks out the window as they city flies by on their way back to the apartment. "He won't go down easily. He's a Templar and one that is accustomed to operating alone so he will be ready for an attack, no matter where we do it. Be prepared and do not hesitate. If he dies, so be it. It will be one less monster in the world." Her tone is flat and distant as she sees the faces of victims flash through her mind. Lives ended by the these madmen and their crusade.

If Edana's face could pale any further it would. Her voice is quiet, sharp, "If he dies, so be it...?" A ghoul on the ground before her, blank white eyes dead. More dead. A feeling like hunger stirs eagerly in her chest. She shudders.

Astral screams echo in her head. A young woman, very young, cut and tormented in a ghastly feeding ritual.

"These men. Michael and this Ulik... they killed my parents. The Templars killed my parents." She takes a steadying breath, burning through grief with anger, "And the question I keep asking over and over is 'what sort of monsters were they?'" She barks a sob and clamps her teeth down, her jaw clenching and her body stiffening. "They were-- they... I don't know who they were!"

And I'm just tired. Tired of fear. Tired of running. Tired of not knowing. Tired.

Tell them.

No. They are predators. With no use for weakness. I don't think they'd hesitate to kill me if I falter.

She bows her head, arms held tight to her sides. Her face contorts as she curls in on herself. She breathes noisily across bared teeth.

Gellawyn quickly looks to Edana her face a blank, as if she had pulled a mask over her face. She shares a pointed look with Kraxus before speaking. When she speaks her voice is bare and sincere, stripped of the distance and indifference. It hangs heavy with sadness and regret.

"We knew but did not know if you had discovered that for yourself. I debated telling you but wasn't sure if it was our place or if would help anything at all. You will have to find your own way out of this. Ours was striking back and stopping this madness. They have killed women, children, innocents of very walk to further their own goals. I have watched them try to bring terror to the doorsteps of my people and I will not stand idly by. You will need to decide if this man is the same one who killed your parents or not. Then you will have to decide what to do from there."

She looks at Michael's injured form and still her faces stays smooth and unreadable.

"You don't understand," Edana says through a clenched jaw. "I don't mean the Templars. I mean my parents! What sort of monsters were they? I don't have any doubt that Michael and Ulik killed them - what I doubt is that it was wrong!" Her voice is rough, unsteady. Louder than is necessary.

Gellawyn's mask slips slightly, a brief look of confusion seems to wash over her features.

"I knew nothing about them that would suggest that. Did someone tell you this? Or this the way you've made peace with being a companion to their murderer? Do not judge the dead so harshly before knowing the truth, you injure them and you in ways that are difficult to heal."

She pauses and looks to Kraxus, seeming to weigh some sort of decision in her mind. She takes comfort from his presence and a small smile creeps onto her face that vanishes as she looks back to Edana.

"You have no reason to trust me or even to find honor in my words but I can answer these questions if you wish. I can walk the past and see the truth as it was. I can offer you the truth though I do not know if there is much comfort to be found there."

"Gellawyn speaks the truth. It is folly to make judgements and take actions without knowing the truth of the situation. Once this with Ulik is done, you would do well to accept her offer and gain what knowledge you can."

So silent in all this?

What is there to say?

Plenty. Edana looks at Herne. You know, don't you? You've always known.

I am not sure what it is you think I know.

Really?

Yes. I'm sure of it.

You're sure you're not sure that you know what it is I think you know.

Yes. I'm s--

Stop. Just stop.

Edana wilts. She slumps back into the seat. "He slit her throat. Michael. He... he did it because he was afraid she'd scream."

"I don't know what that means. What did my parents get involved that attracted the Templar's attention?" She chokes back a sob. And why did they want to meet Michael... what for? What promise did he show that mother was so excited about...? She shakes her head realizing she was on the verge of asking herself the pitiful question, Why not me? Her jaw muscles bunch, "The only other target they chose that I know of was a man who... he was a monster."

She turns her head, Kraxus and Gellawyn can see her tear-streaked cheeks, the lean planes of her face hard and angry, "I see the blood on you both. What makes you better than his killers?"

Gellawyn's eyes become clear and hard at Edana's outburst. Her voice carries the tone of someone speaking to a child caught in her own web of misery.

"I am not the one weeping now child. I face my choices and accept what they mean. Can you say the same? As for the difference bewteen us and the ones we hunt, we did not start this war from the shadows but I will not allow it to continue and claim more innocent lives. If this life is too hard for you to bare than leave it and return to ignorance that once swaddled you."

Her gaze stays steady and locked on Edana. Her words fly like the arrows from her bow.

Kraxus own eyes match Gellawyn's for hardness, and any trace of the confident spokesman is buried under the ice.

"We do not waver in our faith or our comittment to what we know to be right. If you have doubts, if you question yourself, if you cannot decide or feel too afraid to take action, then please to not hesitate to remove yourself from the hunt. Our goal is too important to be risked on a weak link in the chain. We have dedicated our lives to protecting those who cannot protect themselves. There is no shame in stepping aside and admitting that you are one of them."

This is not a fairy tale Sturmdottir. Herne's knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. I failed you long ago, letting you think it might be.

I had that notion beaten out of me in prison. And before that when Ballefour's blood sprayed my face. And the Marquis' with it. ...When that girl's shattered voice--

Herne interrupts, Ballefour is beyond the reach of any justice. But do not forget the Marquis. Or his servants. We cannot know, but to the best of our knowledge, they were all innocents. And they were all murdered. By the Templars.

He senses a rebuttal forming and cuts her off again, Do not forget your Calling, Mistress. Our Calling. The real hunt is not for mortal justice. It is for... Herne's sending becomes heavy, pained.

Eirias. Their linked souls shudder at the utterance of the terrible name.

It is possible that your parents learned something. That the Templars wanted or wanted lost. Ulick and Michael are the keys to finding that out.

Then I can just ask Michael.

Can you? Herne looks at Edana again, the two are pretty clearly conferring. I know you, Sturmdottir, better than anyone. You will never come to terms with this unless you learn what happened. Ask the elf for her truths.

And will her truths be mine?

Herne snorts without humor, Unlikely.

Edana snorts in response to Herne. She turns again to the elves riding in the back. Edana bites back the retorts and rants that had come rushing to her at the elves' arrogant and cock-sure words. Their 'gracious' offering of an out for her. Bastards. Edana took a deep breath and held her anger out to look at it. She was mad. But at herself. More than anything she wanted to take that out they offered. To run away and pretend at her work - her Hunt - with Craig at the shop. Pretend she was searching for The Blade. Pretend she hadn't seen or done any of the things she'd seen and done. But the genie was not just out of the bottle, the bottle was a heap of glittering shards.

"I apologize."

I've never killed before.

"I have learned... done things... today. It's... no excuse for my behavior and I apologize."

Suck on that, hoighty-toighties!

Herne's aura shifts... the spiritual equivalent of rolling his eyes. They're not BLIND. The inflection in his sending implies the elves' Second sight.

You're going to rob me of even small victories, Herne?

Small victories are for small people.

Oh, good grief. All right, all right.

"I have no cause to question your virtue."

Apart from that arrow you feathered that obnoxious ganger with.

Sturmdottir...

"And I would like to accept your offer of help. I have to learn the truth."

Assuming that's what you actually deliver.

Edana!

The woman blinks and looks shocked. Surprised at her own words, maybe. She glances at Herne who has ...darkened some how. Whatever her surprise she looks back at the elves, at Gellawyn. Then at Kraxus and back to Gellawyn.

"But not after we see Ulick. Now."

Gellawyn shows no sign of reacting to her under handed apology. She looks to Kraxus, trying to urge the smae behaviour from him.

Let her have it, she has little else at this point.

"As you wish, all I require is something that belonged to her. It needs to be something she would have had during the attack and possibly before. If that's not possible then something from Michael would also suffice though it might be harder to read anything about your parents. Worse case, I can simply attempt to read the lingering impressions from his aura itself. The choice is yours."

Edana blinks. Something of...

She looks at her hand, the ring that she'd taken from Michael's was on her finger. She must have put it on some time after trying to confront Michael. Her eyes fill with tears again at the sight of it. She slips it from her finger and hands it back to Gellawyn.

"This was her wedding ring. Michael had it. So it will do for both."

Gellawyn takes the ring and leans back into her seat. She encloses the small band with both hands and begins to take long deep breaths. She begins to open her spirit to the lingering impressions left on the ring and prepares to follow them to where they lead.

Gellawyn
His voice echoes through you, resounding along the bond that was formed before you remember. An eternal sadness threatens to subsume you as the voice is made to manifest within your throat.

All
A voice which is not Gellawyn's issues forth from her throat, carrying sadness and regret.

"She must see. This is the moment where a flame will be held against the darkness."

The air in the SUV begins to grow dark and solid. Lightning crackles under Edana's skin bringing flashes of light which are untouched by the tenebrous cloud.

Images begin to form as the impressions within the ring manifest.

A ring is slid onto a woman's finger. The couple stands in a pool of light, surrounded by darkness. Other lights silhouette observers in sharp relief. With this ring...

Screams of pain and joy. A sterile hospital room with a white sheet separating anxious parents from doctors. Almost there, just one more push...

Between moments, there is a rushing sensation as if tracking through at extremely fast speeds.

The circle of light and darkness once more forms. Individuals standing in bright pools, long white robes emblazoned with a rose which becomes a sword's blade. Discord is obvious before the words catch up with the images.

"He can serve us well. The cards speak of the Wayward Knight lost on a great Crusade, returning to our court and bringing with him the answer."

"The cards can be misunderstood. What if you are wrong, we must choose wisely or blood will be spilled."

"Michael must be given the chance. He will lead us to Eirias, I am sure of it."

Again the sensation of speed pulls along your senses.

Michael holds the ring in his hand, weighing it. A feather teeters undecided on the scale of the human heart. Flashbacks slam against him.

He and Ulick prepared themselves.

"Janus, I do not think we should do this."

"My touch will tell you Michael. If he falls, then it is God's will that we do this. If he yet lives, then God has spared his life and hers."

"In nomine patre..."

He begins to weep. So much death had been at his hand, his order's hand. Just to keep a secret that was already known by all. Bishop murdered the woman, he knew his choice and had followed through. Later, the Cardinal declared that it was not sin, for she was a heretic and he would be blessed in the Kingdom of Heaven. He still didn't believe the Cardinal's words...

Echoes of conflict, a wounded soul reaches out to quell his pain.

Like calls to like, he knew it before the whip cracked. The answer was not his, but through him the answer could be found. God had worked his ways. Not the god that they served, a god of human desire and greed, but God. He knew that he had stumbled, fallen into the path of darkness and walked there. Now though, his suffering tried him. He would find redemption in the cracking whip.

She would have to know, to see. Like calls to like. They needed each other, not for what the others believed, but to open the way and bring that which is hidden to light. In exposing the truth, another truth will come to light.

Like calls to like...

Kraxus gives the woman her apology. There was no benefit to dragging the argument out further. She was, at least, apologizing and asking for help.

As Gellawyn began to focus, he reached out, resting his fingertips lightly on a spot of bareskin, letting the contact and his presence do what it could to bolster her during the attempt.

Edana's jaw clenches. Tears run down her cheeks at seeing her parents faces. Their joy and pain, her own tiny, blood-smeared body. The concerned looks of the nurses. Her parents' happiness. Even though the baby was underweight... and not... right. They loved her then. When had that changed? Had that changed?

The Cardinal.

The Cardinal is the one responsible for my parents' death. As much as Michael and Ulick - especially Ulick...

And Michael may hold the key to the... he may hold the key. If I can reach him. The wrath-bearer will know how to reach him. This Ulick. This Janus.

Layers of the visions float down over her, searing into her, burning away the frivolous waste of days that she had strung together since she'd come to Seattle. She reaches out a hand to Gellawyn for her mother's ring.

"Thank you."

She slips the ring onto her finger and faces forward. There would be trouble soon. Her mistakes would be coming home to roost. The Brotherhood would want to know why she had failed them. And she had nothing to redeem herself. A blank year of near-madness in prison and the record to go with it. And a half-thread of a strand of hope from a catatonic man and his demonic brother.

She turns around to look at the elves again. A tight and bitter smile flickers across her face. An acknowledgement of her rudeness... an appreciation of ironies... and embarassment...

"Let's start again, hey?"

"I'm Edana. This is Herne. How did you know Bishop and why did he tell you he wanted to meet?"

Pulling his fingers back to his lap, Kraxus appraised the emotionally carthartically purged woman, blinking once and allowing his sight to shift into the astral as his eyes opened. It was rude, to say the least, but he had to know. An ally could be invaluable. A traitor could put everything at risk, including Gellawyn.

Edana's aura swirls like a bubble filled with colored smoke and cloud. Arcs of energy crackle across the surface of her astral image. She is unsettled. Deep within the smoke there is a hurt, a strange dull tang. It gnaws at her, causes her pain, a physical pain. It seems old. She is resigned to it, strengthened even.

And there is strength, but there is doubt. A fear of once again choosing the wrong path, being too timid, or too bold... of ruining more lives. Or worse, ending them. She is afraid, embarassed, unashamed, confused and certain. All at once.

She is poised at the crux of a change. Vulnerable. A small push would do it, but which way... prick the bubble and let the smoke escape or coax the arcing energy into a storm. Which way...

Gellawyn blinks several times in a row, trying to clear the flood of images from her mind and seeking now. She feels his hand and suddenly finds herself back in her own flesh and catches the last bit of Edana's bid for a new beginning. Struggling to ground back into her own life she nods to the woman.

"I'm Gellawyn and this is Kraxus. We were contacted to meet with Bishop and came since he had ties to the Templars."

Something about the visions seems to nag at her, she begins to think back over her readings. Her face shows thoughtful introspection as she sorts through the images and their meanings. With a sudden snap it all seems to fall into place.

"He has truly left their number! The cards spoke of this but I didn't understand the threads in the moment. He has left them behind, her death was the turning point. The crossroads from which his path diverged from the others."

She looks back at the prone man, her face open and soft.

"He has been seeking redemption ever since, some way to bring peace and stillness to his soul, The calm he once enjoyed as a soldier of God. They used him to find Eirius - whoever or whatever that is. They thought he would bring it to them, he was allowed to fall in the hopes that he would return from the darkness with this treasure."

After a moment or two, Gellawyn seems to do a double take as more of her reading falls into focus.

"I have done your friend a diservice and for that I apologize. A reading I had done early spoke of a traitor and I assume it was him but I think there is another turncoat amongst us. Is there anyone else involved in this that you have kept from us?"

Edana speaks, eyes still closed. "Those men weren't Templars. They're the Archons of the Brotherhood of Eirias."

"But Michael did leave the Templars behind. At least, that's what I believe. So, he is still the traitor, the fallen knight."

How he leads to... It... I don't understand.

Perhaps if you asked the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood would be contacting her. She'd broken her Oath. There would be consequences. Already were consequences. Maybe they had reformed the group without her. That was an unpleasant cocktail of feelings. But if they had, she'd be free of them. Of the quest. Not that she'd been living it. Which was the problem.

But if Gellawyn's vision were true... she had been. She was at the heart of things. Yes, the Brotherhood would be making itself known soon.

The young woman blinked rapidly a few times, clearing her thoughts and refocusing. "How far are we out, Herne?"

"Not." He said, pulling the brumby into a parking garage. Downtown and Crash had been watching for them, Edana's phone rang.

"We'll be right there."

All
The underground parking garage is filled with luxury sedans and sports cars. A few classics are intermixed with next year's models but your black few year's old SUV stands out as much as the sleek racing bike that you saw Ulick on earlier.

A valet steps forward and waits for you to disembark.

"Will this be an extended stay?"

All
There is the sound of a backfiring engine mixed with troll thrash metal as Crash's truck pulls into the garage. A light cloud of smoke follows the truck filling the air with the pungent scent of burnt oil and anti-freeze. The valet openly stares at the monstrosity pulling into the chic hotel.

First the spooks in an unmarked SUV and now freakshow…

Gellawyn
Beneath the raging music, there is a sudden exhalation of gases. Training begins to take over, sorting out sounds as threatening or non-threatening. Another exhalation and you realize there is silenced gunfire. The sweet sickly scent of blood and death fills your nose.

Kraxus
The sensations that Fuer’yon feels overlay your senses. Splashes of violence cut across the truck. Fear and disgust weigh heavily over the valet.


Edana
Muffled gunfire mixes with the thrash metal in counterpoint to the heavy beat from Crash’s truck. Your phone begins to ring.

All
The truck swings wildly, out of control. Crashing with a sense of finality, the truck comes to rest against the crumpled remains of a Beyermische. Crash lays prone over the steering wheel, horns pressing heavily into the horn to augment to discordant echoes of noise filling the plasticrete garage.

Crash's startling entrance saves Edana from doing the calculus of working out if shaking Ulick down counted as an extended stay or not. She flinches at the sounds - gunfire and gasps when the truck rams into another car.

"Crash!" Edana yells. The valet's expression reveals his low opinion of the strange woman's redundant outburst. She runs to the wreck. "Crash, are you okay?"

But where is DT?

Sturmdottir, weapons have been fired. Be careful. Herne hops into the back of the brumby and crouches down before dematerializing. Bounding loops take the spirit hound in widening arcs around the garage.

Edana
Rushing to the truck, you see the passenger door open and Downtown roll out of the cab. He has a series of cuts and abrasions which could easily be chalked up to the crash.

Just before he drops down out of sight, you make out the elongated barrel of a silenced pistol.

Edana races forward toward the truck. Crash is inert. And DT dropped out of sight behind the truck... taking cover... from...? Unnamed dread fills the young Huntress as the shrilling of her phone finally drills its way into awareness. Her will touches the foci she carries. The whip fills her with a curdling sense of bloody satisfaction. She shivers.

Still moving forward she looks over her shoulder to see what DT might have been taking cover from and reaches into her pocket. She glances down at the display.

Edana
Hunger. Need. Quiet and insistent, the sensations tremor along your will.

The display shows a voice only transmission. Direct connection from Bishop's phone, carrying the signature of a conference call.

Supple leather uncoils down, dancing tiny motions in response to the slightest movements in your wrist. The shrill tones of the phone are muffled in comparison to your other sense. You can smell your prey. Feel his pulse along your tongue, beating steady and quick.

Gellawyn gives Kraxus a single look before sliding down trying to take as much cover offered by the car. She watches in stunned disbelief as Edana leaps from the truck making her way towards Crash, her movement leaving her open to attack. With a disgusted snort she activates the polymers in her armor and blends away from sight as she exits the vehicle.

This woman is going to get someone killed.....

She moves to provide cover for Edana during her rush to check on the troll. She brings the comm unit online and links it up with Kraxus.

"There has been gunfire, silenced. I have no idea how many, Crash may have been the target. I'm not even sure why he is here. We should be prepared to move quickly."

Bishop? How- oh, it's him. Ulick. She punches a button that sends the call to her mailbox. He can leave a message.

Edana keeps moving. "Crash, DT, you guys okay? Guys?"

Kraxus let the frustration at the womans rash actions flow through him, and releases the fury at the concept of Edana driving Gellawyn needlessly into harms way. It would do no good for any of them, and could get someone killed. Besides, HE would definitely not approve...

He triggered the fiber optics in his suit, leaning just far enough out of the open door to get a clear line of sight on the shooter, wherever he was.

Kraxus
Leaning out the car door, you scan the area looking for threats. From your seated position it is hard to make out details, but there is someone moving along the ground behind Crash's truck. Gellawyn's shimmering form ghosts along in stride with Edana, in a protective stance.

You hear footsteps coming from behind you, an individual approaching from the hotel.

All
The valet watches with shock and horror as the danger of your presence becomes manifest. A freak with lightning raging under her skin, thunder threatening to break through with every crack of her whip. Two elves activating stealth suits, like the Ghosts from trids. He extends his arms out from his body, clearly showing that he is unarmed.

"Don't shoot! I don't want to die!" Screaming he runs for the hotel and the supposed safety that it will bring.

Gunfire plays as the valet is shot in the back of the knee and again in the calf muscle. He collapses forward, falling onto one shoulder as he grabs for his leg.

Edana
With one blood covered hand, Crash hits the stereo. It grows louder for an instant as the dial rolls upwards and falls silent. The sudden stillness of the thrash metal brings the valet's screams into higher focus against the klaxons of car alarms.

"It wasn't meant to end like this."

At first you don't recognize the voice, strong and firm, but then you realize it is Crash talking.