TVC II Chapter 1 - Old Faces

[Get of W'soran]

Dieter snarled and a few swift steps he towered over the sitting form of Alastor. The captain's rage practically was blinding, for a brief moment he considered running the younger vampire through.
Luckily however reason managed to reassert itself and in one swift movement the blood dragon seized the Alastor and hurled him across the room to land at the feet of his master.

"Keep your fool under control Banespike!" Dieter snapped "Or I swear I'll remove his head myself."

Karl stood, his fury still evident in his expression.

"Look at you." he snarled at the bickering Lords of the Night.

"Centuries old, Immortal, and you act like children! Can you not, for a short time, keep your foul tongues in your mouth? Your blades in their sheaths?" he looked around the room disgusted "I would think a few hundred years of life would teach some of you how to not act like fools! The strigoi, half beast as he is, can be forgiven in his random actions!"

Pointing at the Mortal Knight he continued "Of you all this short lived human shows the most wisdom."

Taking a deep breath for air his body no longer needed he calmed himself before speaking in more even tones.
"If you can not co-operate in the simple task of remaining in a room with each other whilst waiting for Rowhaine then I suggest you just leave. I, for one, am tired of this nonsense."

Turning his gaze to look coldly at Morturion Karl hissed.
"I had thought that removing magic would stop you acting like an idiot but apparently I was wrong so let me tell you this Nagashi. You will not receive a single coin from my treasury, you will not be paid for your services. If you still wish to assist the council, as any intelligent man of your abilities would, then you do so as a voluntary member just like everyone else."


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Nekhlior remained quiet throughout most of the arguing, exhausted already and the true purpose of the gathering not yet revealed.

However the Necrarch felt a smile as the Regent echoed his own thoughts.

Walking over to Kraskor he put a hand on his apprentices shoulder and simply smiled at the blood dragon giving a faint shake of his head before reaching down and pulling Alastor of the ground.

"Why don't you see if you can play something pleasant for me on the piano?" Nekhlior requested.

 

[Mello]

Alastor yelped in surprise and tried to teleport himself before hitting the ground. This only succeeded in him becoming fainter, before he screamed in pain as he nearly became split between two locations, and he crashed headlong into the ground.

The first thing that went through his mind was that his mask may be broken, he scrabbled a hand to his face and brothe out in relief, it had held. As he picked himself off the ground painfully, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Pausing, he stopped himself from jumping into the ceiling with fright, and turned. Nehklior stood there, kind in a senile sort of way as always, and asked for some piano music. Although Alastor's eyes lit up initially, he sighed and sagged his shoulders, picking debris off himself.

"Although there's nothing I'd rather do right now, I fear that this... cacophony of arguing and stupidity will drown me out, both auditorally and mentally. Plus I don't think I can think straight now. Is there anything you can think of that you'd like me to play?" he added, rubbing his head absently. Looking at where he had landed, there was a small crack in the hard stone floor, that'd explain the usual-than-more headache then..

He approached the thrones again, eying Dieter coldly before facing Karl and Simon.

"Seeing as, apparently sitting on the edge of your throne is offensive, can I at least be permitted to sit on the steps? I'm merely trying to distance myself from whatever stupidity lies behind me."

He shook his head sadly, "Can't say I didn't warn you though."

Meeting no resistance, he proceeded to sit down halfway up the steps to the thrones, his head in his hands. Angry symphonies flew through his head, great brass solos resounding through the emptiness of his mind, while in his concious mind he tried to figure out what had gone wrong.."[/b]

Glancing up at Karl, he muttered, "You must forgive me, I'm young and ignorant to say the least. I know the throne is someone else's, but why does that stop me sitting on the arm?" He couldn't have been more ignorantly innocent if he had wanted to be.

 

[Mr Nightwere]

Jason Signed mournfully and examined his surrounding a pain slivering through his mind as he Moved over towards the Piano he sat very still for a solid moment and instructing a servant to attend him again he was brought Blood tea in a fine porcelain cup.
Drinking it and placing it upon the top he began to play slowly first getting the feel of it once again.
His voice sung out, sorrow emptying from his fine lips, so soft in its composure and fine in its delivery. The ancient vampire smiling sweetly as black tears of blood danced from his feral eyes,as taken away by his song.

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace

You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world

You, you may say
I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one
I hope some day you'll join us
And the world will live as one

[video=youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dunKAwRN3P8&feature=fvst[/video]

 

[Simon von Carstein]

Simon who had remained silent looked down on Alastor "It is incredibly offensive you miserable youngblood." he pointed to the throne that Alastor had attempted to sit on. "That is my brother's chair. Lord Marshal Mircea led the armies of the Council against Nagash and acted as Vashanesh's second during the final battle. There is no greater strategist among our kind. You're lucky! If you'd tried to sit on the obsidion throne you'd be dead right now."

 

[Zanos]

Time passed and the Strigoi seemed to be too shocked to get up. Between all of the happenings of music, soul-trickery, and mortal threatening, Alexander, or at least the dull bestial mind he had reverted to. The wards were pushing down the beast just enough though, and Alexander saw the mortal knight being threatened and attacked by the necromancer. He had taken a liking to this mortal...such a brave man, ready to stand by what he considered right no matter the cost. Leaping to the knight, Alexander slammed his arm down in front of him in a defensive manner, and snarled at the necromancer. "Touch him...and die. You are the real beassst here."

Looking back to Kavok and smiling, or at least what could be taken as a smile from a massive vampiric beast, Alexander sent a mental command to his wight Grigori. The ancient warrior moved to Kavok's side to defend him, giving him a slight nod to honor him as if remembering part of his past life.

 

[The Dread King]

Blast, Morturion thought after hearing Karl's words, I won't be able to make a financial profit from them, then. I will be forced to be undiplomatic to carry out my plan. By hook or by crook, I SHALL obtain the items I require, and I do not care of some stupid Carstein does not give permission. Once out of this wretched hall, I won't need their permission anymore.

Moving onto other matters, he considered what had happened grimly. All of these unfamiliar vampires seemed to want to back each other up, all of them wanted him dead. It was almost opposite to what it had been like in Nagashizzar. There, he had been respected, for he was a powerful necromancer, and everyone there remembered what Nagash had been before he was a liche. When the vampires were marching on Cripple Peak, the Great Necromancer even promised that if he proved himself, in time he would be raised to the rank of Dreadlord.

"I will stay in Drakenhof a while longer," Morturion muttered back to Karl, "and will be a...voluntary member of the council for the time being. But if any more attempts on my life are made, I will leave, and take my host with me."

Turning to the vargheist almost blankly, Morturion said in bored tones, "You do not interest me as an ally, neither are you a significant threat. Begone from my sight, you monster clown, you vampiric jape, you are more ugly than my face and my temper."

I have failed with the majority of this sorry lot; I will need to make an impression on Rowhaine, or else there was no point in me coming here, except for the fun.

 

[Zanos]

Alexander felt the necromancer Morturion judging him, the condescending tone causing his anger to burn higher. Stalking towards him, his clawed feet cracking on the floor, the vargheist held his face inches away from Morturion's and growled, spittle spattering against his face. "Watch your back necromancer. Because one day, I will break it, just as the council broke your master."

Managing to fully regain control of his functions, with the help of the wards, Alexander stepped back and, with some painful forcing, reverted to his human form. Though his clothes were now rather torn, he still managed to strike a dashingly handsome look, and sneered at the necromancer. "I believe you should take back your comment on my appearance as well you pathetic little twit. Count yourself lucky my family haven't already struck you down for your audacity and insolence."

 

[The Dread King]

"On the contrary, Von Carstein. Your family have done nothing to me, yet I can see what they've done to you." Stepping back, he remarked, "Perhaps your loose tongue was what got you turned into a vargheist, no?" Smiling bitterly, Morturion said, "The council broke Nagash with a group of powerful, organised members, and, I think, a higher, darker power. All I see here is a battleground, a group of bickering vampires trying to strike down that very same power, and your family's most powerful members seem not to have even managed to deal with a lone strigoi, let alone anything like me.If they knew how to deal with things properly, you would not be a vargheist, but a skeleton. I've had enough of this bunch of do-gooders-" his hand swept across the room "- preaching their verses at me. I have not come here to be called a coward by a mortal, but to lend my services to those who requested them. As for audacity, you are the audacious one; you insult one who would crush you in the blink of an eye, if not for these wards and the vampires around you."

 

[Zanos]

Tensing, Alexander drew his sword in a lightning fast manner that saw the point mere inches from Morturion's face. Speaking through clenched teeth, Alexander said, "I was imprisoned for doing the rightful thing. It was I who stood for my sire when the rest of my family were following a madman and you WILL NOT make such snide insinuations about my past, you miserable little pile of secrets." Removing his sword from the mortal's face with a lightning quick movement, he slid the sword back into its sheath. "You avoid the Lifehunter's touch for now, necromancer."

 

[The Dread King]

"Again! Another attack on my unlife!" Morturion stepped round slowly in a circle, and looked inquisitively at Karl and Simon. "Can't you at least keep your own in check, Triumvirate? How did you conquer half the empire? Or must you leave it to necromancers to deal with..." he gestured at Alexander, "...problems." Swivelling away from the Carstein in disgust, Morturion wondered if Rowhaine was ever going to arrive, or whether this was all a giant test to see how undead reacted when left alone b(ut for each other) in a room for a few minutes.

 

[Ghouly]

A low growl rumbled deep within Graveclaws chest, as the Strigoi glared at each vampire in the room and the necromancer, before turning his gaze on Kavok, and the snarl turned to a roar of frustration, dropping to his knees the Strigoi slammed both fists on the ground in anger “Fine not hurt mortal, Graveclaw not fight anymore, carssssstinesssssss get reprieve for now” with that the Strigoi stomped over to a corner and sat down. “if one drop of mortal blood issssss ssssssspilt Graveclaw eat the heart of all parissssssitesssss and wass them down with blood of corpse fondling Necromancer Undersssssssstand”he warned.

 

[Sweeney Todd]

"Thank you, but I feel that will not be necessary." Kenshiro said as he politely declined Karl's offer to arrange a meeting with his distant brother-in-darkness. That was something he would actively avoid at this point in time.

Kenshiro had been standing quietly to one side and rolling his eyes as the necromancer's antics continued. He ceased his ocular motion only to speak.

"Can't you see the obvious, necromancer? It seems that with every breath you take, you make an insinuation about something or someone. Any attacks on your personage were invited, directly or indirectly, by your words. Leash your tongue, and others could be justified to leash their swords."

Those words he said as he strode forward to flank the mortal knight, a human who had already proven to Kenshiro that he was worthy of respect. A hand on his shoulder conveyed some of Kenshiro's sentiments, as he gazed at the necromancer with an impassive mask on his face.

 

[Mr Nightwere]

Jason merly continued his song speaking at he finished another ballard of sweet sorrow.

"Morturion, no one has attacked you thus far and if they were to I doubt it would be for anyone benift. Now come come, Let us retain some semblence of Sanity"

Jason Paused on the notion of insanity for a moment... idly playing the at the fine keys of the piano.

"Please tell us of your life instead of how great your collection of imprisioned souls is. Such topics are for enimies and as you may well know we do not try to be... Particularly sten enimies here?"

 

[Get of W'soran]

Karl nodded at Graveclaw as he consented to a temporary peace.

"Thank you." Karl said.

Listening to Alexander and Morturion argue the Regent rolled his eyes as he sat back down, once again the composed lord.

"Quit acting so indignant Necromancer. In a few short minutes you insulted your host, my son and the accomplishments of my house. It would well be within Alexander's right to remove your head or at the very least your forked tongue." The Regent said with annoyance.

"As for our military conquests, I could explain but I doubt you would understand. I can give a few pointers. For one thing we do not stand around whining and making empty threats." Karl added in a voice dripping with contempt and sarcasm.

"The King's Heirs also managed to not be complete morons, antagonize a collection of powerful immortals and get their head chopped of by an ancient son of Abhorash." Nekhlior added cheerfully.

The Regent raised an eyebrow at that, looking at the withered vampire feeling somewhat amused at the rather simplistic amusing fashion in which Nagash's demise was described.
"Yes there was that."
Karl felt a smile touch his lips as he considered that Morturion had already done the first two, perhaps it was destiny for him to follow in his masters ill-fated steps.
It would be poetic justice for Vekarin's get to help fulfill the last part.

Turning his attention away from Morturion Karl looked at young Alastor sitting below him.

"Worry not, all is forgiven for there was no harm done. It is simply, as the Lord Imperator said, an insult to rest on the symbolic representation of the Marshal's authority." Karl told the boy pausing for a moment wondering if the the barely sane vampire understood "It's one of those society rules." he said after deciding against using a metaphor that could possibly prolong the conversation.

 

[The Dread King]

Glowering at te vampiric fools around him, Morturion really regretted talking to any of them here. Every time he tried to deal with a situation, he was responded to with angry rejections and insults. There were too many vampires turned against him now to deal with; he'd have to leave them until later and pick them off one by one. The strange one known as Kenshiro, and even Graveclaw, had joined the cacohphony of voices shouting against his unlife. Listening to Nightwere's comment, he laughed madly. He was quite mad, to be sure, but wasn't everyone in this room a little bit (or more than a litte bit)insane? Looking at their faces, Morturion gathered that most had a false, self-made sense of justification, and acted as if they were too noble to engage in any sort of physical or verbal combat, despite what they had just done.

The necromancer considered telling the inhabitants of the hall about his unlife, as Jason suggested, but at the moment, a shocking tale would only incense them further. Instead, he decided to wait until Rowhaine had arrived, and they had all calmed down. Then, the story of my life will be brought out, and they will all begin to understand just how I deal with bickering idiots like them.

But now, there were challenges to be answered. Morturion chose not to respond to Graveclaw, but with a pitying and disgusted look. To the mysterious Kenshiro, he said, "Forgive me, but so many times, I have tried to save the stability of this council, only to be thwarted by others, who object to my methods, the fact that I am not a vampire, and the way I deal with those who do not know their places. Any extra offence I caused was...unintentional. All I did was point out the faults of Vekarin the Dark-Bladed and those in the room and protect myself, no less than any have done to me. I bear you no ill will for what you have said to me. If you are going to attack me like some of the others did-" he said, glancing around the room quickly, and then muttering sinisterly, "- you may end up with more than seven scars."

"Jason Nightwere." Morturion said, his voice getting as friendly as it ever did. "I do not intend to be enemies with anyone in this room, but for a select few. I apologize, because I lost my temper when speaking to you earlier. I am very passionate about the art of soulcraft; you would understand. My life was not pleasant; I don't think you would want to know about it. All you need to know is that I am not a coward, for, I repeat, I stood beside my master until his end, not deserting him...unlike some." Morturion turned his head towards his former tutor, Nekhlior. His glance lingered there, seeming to respect his power, but despising him for his betrayal.

Almost mechanically, Morturion turned to the Triumvirate. "I understand the tactics of wars, Lord Regent. And it seems your son has been insulted by you more than I ever could insult him...how could the honourable Karl Von Carstein stand by while his son was transformed into a horrible beast? You could have, at least, freed him. But I will stop talking to you and your son, if my speech distresses you so." An air of self-satisfied confidence returned to Morturion's manner, and he grinned. "My pardons for any offence caused," he said, in tones that didn't sound very sorry at all, but slightly amused.

 

[The Sanguine Prince]

Esmerelda listened to the words of the Necromancer, she sensed an ulterior motive but the escapades of before proved boring, "I say the insulted ones just accept the apology and move on from here, these arguments lead us nowhere. While I do not approve of the human's methods...sometimes you have to dance with darkness to get somewhere". She then turned to Graveclaw, speaking to him once more in the Strigany language, "thank you for ceasing the hostilities Strigoi; as much as I wanted you to pummel the Imperator to death, now is not the time. We have much bigger fish to fry...for now".

The queen then turned to the rest of the council "In the meantime, while this council squabbles and bickers among itself, the power of Necromancy wanes, fate only knows what happens to us when it is gone, I for one certainly do not intend to find out". Esmerelda turned away from them and approached the window and gazed out at the stars, an attempt to discern the secrets of the future. She clutched the amulet of the Tir'Vahanzani, hoping that it's magic will help her with seeing what happens next.

 

[Kavok]

Kavok blinked in surprise when Alexander leaped out of the fight towards him. 'Well this is odd... Though I think I'm going to have to agree with sir Alexander on the point of which of them is more a monster... From what I'm gathering he isn't intentionally like that, and he does generally control himself.' Kavok gives a small nod back to the skeleton, before looking back at the rest of the room and letting out a small sigh. 'Great... I'm being protected now... Though I do think it may be caused more by people having problems with the guy with a disfigured face then actually wanting to protect me, so I guess I will let it go for now. I hope they at least do let the knight vampire do what he just swore to do... Would be insulting him not to.'

When Graveclaw actually did back down and go sit in a corner from the threat of harm coming to Kavok, Kavok's jaw almost dropped. 'Why did that work... Umm... So not all the ones who look like monsters are monsters on the inside? But he was just attacking the vampires here... Does he really have something against the undead, and wants to protect those still living for some reason? This is so confusing...'

Seeing that most of the fighting should be done by now, Kavok sheaths his blade, and puts his shield back onto his back. Kavok glances over at lady Elanor, making sure if she is still unharmed, and says "So again, is this generally how a meeting between vampire's happen? Or is this just because of some of the other guests mixed in. If that is the case I should probably apologize for showing up... Now that I think of it I should probably apologize for showing up uninvited anyways. Hmm... Though am I truly uninvited... For a normal castle I'd probably think I was just invited by the lady, but... Not really sure if that holds here." 'Oh I hope it was the lady who invited me here... else I am in a heap of trouble with her. And with the rest of the Bretonnian kingdom... maybe.' Glancing around, Kavok continues his internal thought process. 'Nope, definitely screwed over...'

Looking over at Esmerelda with a raised eyebrow. "The power of necromancy is failing? Is that why you all gathered. Well... that makes it seem less likely that the lady is the one who brought me here..." 'Unless she wanted me to somehow stop you all from fixing the necromancy problem... Though why would she have just sent one person then? So little makes sense with the situation I'm in... Though didn't they say they had to fight a greater evil? Maybe I was sent to help defeat that greater evil... by allying with the lesser of the two evils... Well at least not all of them appear to be monsters on the inside. That might make sense... hopefully...'

 

[Mello]

Alastor raised an eyebrow in amusement and grunted. "Indeed, one of those rules..."

His ears pricked up when he heard a apologetic chord on the piano, and he sprang up, rushing over to it as the odd one started playing. It was a sad song, but sorrowful rather than angry, like Alastor. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, ignoring the minute technical errors, it made a pleasant change to the inside of his head. It was just like how he felt when he was young, angry, but protective of his mother, it felt just back then. He smiled in happiness as his mind, just for this moment, cleared itself of the cacophony of thousands of potential songs, and focussed on this one sweet melody.

As the main theme of the song repeated itself, Alastor couldn't help but add his voice to the tune, providing a harmonic descant to the tune. He added subtle twists to the harmonies, twisting the tune slowly into a more warped sadness, his tenor voice ringing out clear, yet soft enough as to not be obtrusive. He smiled from ear to ear all the time.

As the song ended, there was a long pause before Alastor opened his eyes, and his frown quickly returned as the void of music was again filled up by his imagination, that little piece of bliss was finished with. Alastor sighed deeply, and turned to the musician.

"Tell me, where did you learn that song? It reminds me of more.. innocent times, when the world seemed fine how it was.."

 

[The Dread King]

Hearing the Lahmian queen's words, Morturion's face gave off an understanding, rational look. "Ah. A vampire with sense," he declared, as if he'd made a fantastic discovery. "Well, not only does fate know what will happen, but I seem close to knowing it, too. My research into the waning of necromancy has produced fascinating results. When Rowhaine arrives, I am sure you will want to know just how we can deal with this vast problem encroaching upon our undeath."


At last, a potential ally, he thought. I may be getting somewhere. If I can win a few more voices to what they will be led to think my cause is, I may well be able to carry out my plan earlier than I predicted. Most vampires are like metals. Remember what the Dreadlords taught you. The lesson on how to deal with vampires came rushing back to the front of Morturion's mind. Some metals are just so stubborn, it takes only time, caution and patience to work them to your will. Only time, caution and patience, and I will have what I want.

"Pardon me, my lady, but I do not know your name? Just who are you?" Morturion's eyes were full of something far beyond curiousity; a hunger for knowledge: a desire, a need, a driving force in his gargantuan mind. Recalling one of Nekhlior's first lessons, he remebered, Knowledge is power. Power is wasted if left to rot. So when you have your knowledge, you had better use it well, or you'll end up as simply an insignificant, petty thrall.

It was a lesson which, Morturion realised with humour and scorn, so many vampires thought they knew, yet sadly they did not know it well enough. As Kraskor will doubtless learn when he finds himself as a soul in a jar. And how useful will it be then? Morturion made a mental instruction, and his armour slowly melted off his face. He was ready to talk politics once more.

 

[Get of W'soran]

Nekhlior nodded.
"My old pupil has a point, Soulcrafting is an extraordinary process." the Necrarch said with a shrug before grinning widely and leaning in to whisper loudly to the Necromancer "And let me tell you my boy, I would of driven a dagger into his back myself if the opportunity had presented itself."

The ancient vampire giggled at his own words.

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

Karl was moments from forgetting this council and ripping Morturion's throat out as he mentioned Alexander's tragic past.

"Do not mention that which you do not understand." he instructed Morturion coldly.
The Necromancer had pushed too far and Karl would not allow a mere human to speak of his son that way.
If Morturion dared speak one more word against his family the boy would be thrown from these halls and could find some other way to join the council.

Turning to Esmerelda Karl nodded.
"Quite right my lady."

Then listening to Kavok the Regent smiled faintly and nodded.
"This is similar to many meetings between unfamiliar Lords of the Night...except a lot less blood." he said sounding amused.

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

Nekhlior's giggling fit subsided to be replaced by a serious expression as Esmerelda mentioned Necromancy.

"Quite, the waning of that which sustains us all is of the utmost importance." he murdered clasping his hands behind his back. "And happening a mere decade after the Great Necromancer's death." he added uncomfortable with saying the dead Liche's name.

 

[The Raven Lord]

Peter stood silently at the back of the group, wishing he had never come to this place. The vampires in this Council were a pale comparison to the Lords he had fought with a decade earlier. They had had their differences, but had managed to work together. This group of Vampires looked unlikely to leave Drakenhof. He had seen Simon's wrath unleashed on those that had displeased him on many occasions, and he did not wish such a fate on any being, mortal or undead.

"Brothers and sisters," he spoke out in a cool, commanding tone, "Some of you I know, and some of you I don't. I am Peter von Krahe, Warden of the Eastern Marches of Sylvania, and the Lord of Ravens. I ask that you lay aside your mistrust and your paranoia. The Chosen of the Gods would not have summoned you here if you were not all incredible individuals. Your skills would no doubt put even others of our kind to shame."

Peter was getting into his stride now, surprised that his skills in oratory were returning to him so easily, after so many years in solitude.

"But, we must remember, that we are here at the discretion of the masters of this keep," he nodded to Simon and Karl, "The von Carsteins are not known to suffer fools gladly, and I would not try their patience."

Peter hoped that the assembled Lords of the Night would pay heed to his words. Whilst the Undead in the room were no doubt might warriors, mages and artisans, Peter doubted that they would be able to tackle whatever was draining the magic from the world if they decided to tear each other apart in the Throne Room. And he also hoped that the von Carsteins would not take his words as a challenge to their authority. Karl was a great diplomat, and would no doubt value his input, but Simon did not like to be upstaged. That was the poet side of him coming through.

 

[Get of W'soran]

"Peter! We are honoured by your presence, welcome back friend" Karl said pleasantly, glad to see the Knight had decided to attend the council.
He had been worried by the lack of presence of his old friend for the past ten years, he had expected the Blood Dragon to serve in the von Carstein army but he seemed to have went into a sort of self-imposed seclusion.

As Karl welcomed Peter the Regent's Guard, led by Dieter, all took a step forward and saluted Peter with their blades before stepping back into the line before the thrones.

Dieter removed his helmet and placed it in the crook of his left arm.
The swordsman grinned at the knight, glad to see his friend seemed well.

 

[Malochai]

Markus listened quietly to the conversing of the vampires as everyone seemed to back away from the precipice of violence, and he gritted his teeth. ‘How I would love to slash his throat, see the blood pool on the floor ...’ Shaking his head to clear it, he took a steadying breathe as he had when he was alive. The self-appointed Queen spoke truly, and Kavok’s words and presence helped to calm Markus even further; he had vowed long ago to never willing harm humans for sport - and he hadn’t, not since awaking in the tavern after being Turned. The response of Karl to the knight bought a slight smile to his face beneath the mask; this was the first meeting of the Night’s Aristocracy that hadn’t broken out into bloodshed - usually spilt of his ‘guests’. ‘But there is still time yet,’’[/b] he thought. Focussing on the present, he listened to Peter von Krahe’s petition for peace, and finally put aside his anger.

“Esmerelda, you speak sense. Lord Regent, I apologise,” he said with a slight bow at the waist. “I do, however, stand by all that I have said.
“Peter, I have heard of you; great things. Like Esmerelda, you speak wisdom. My name is Shah al-Hamid, and I’m honoured to meet you.”

 

[The Raven Lord]

"And you to my Lord. It has been a long time, perhaps too long," mused the Blood Dragon. He stepped forward towards the von Carstein, nodding towards the Regent Guard. The Carsteins knew how to put on a show, but the Guard seemed to know how to handle their blades. He flashed a smile to Dieter as he approached the throne.

"I see you have made some changes to the old place since I was last here," he said to Karl, "Lucia... would have liked it." It was the first time in years Peter had uttered his wife's name to another being, and the act had brought it all back to him again. It was this castle, dragging back all the memories he had tried to leave behind.

Turning to the new comer, he bowed in return, "My Lord al-Hamid, I an honoured. But I regret that I am not familiar with your name, but I do not get out of the Empire much these days."

 

[Get of W'soran]

Karl nodded at Markus.
"It is all in the past, fraying tempers where to be expected with so many unfamiliar faces and potential enemies, our existence is not for those who trust easily. Let us hope that the council's future will be one of successful cooperation."

Turning his attention to the new arrival Karl's smile faded but was still present although it was a subdued one.

"Yes there have been many changes in the house of von Carstein, many new events transpiring amongst the family, although we do let new successes to allow us forget the deeds of the past." he said "I too believe my niece would have been very happy here." he agreed.