Romanov

Romanov sat down. “As a point of clarification, Dr Oswald, I warned that you would lose your head not that I would take it. And a bluff so early in the game is not a worthy opening gambit as all of us in this room know that your activities on these islands began shortly before you burst through the door.”

He poured himself a glass of wine. “The question as to whether we can achieve our aims without you is irrelevant. We joined together as seven and, for myself with two superstitious races in my heritage, I would rather we continued as such. The question remains as to whether you can keep your temper and ego in check long enough for you to be one of them.”

He raised his glass and nodded to the Countess before taking a drink. “Replacing Alicia should be done quickly. Her men are already tied up in our machinations so perhaps we should look to whoever is strong and ruthless enough to take her place as leader of The Gang.”

He studied the deep red vintage for a few heartbeats. “You like the vampire, Doctor? He entertains me as well but the ramblings of a fool soon lose their appeal. At least the Countess has been alerted to the traitor in her midst. For now let him laugh and be happy in his fantasies.”

He turned to his zombie guard. “Go to the crypt. Kill them all.”

The zombie drew a heavy iron sword and let out a blood chilling wail calling the rest of his horde from the shadows.

Romanov glanced at the Countess. “Countess, my behaviour as a guest in your home is unworthy of me. But I am afraid I must insist.”

Romanov gently placed Alicia’s head upright with his left hand before looking at Hatesman for a few silent seconds. The bombastic fool was best used as a hand grenade, but this one had the unfortunate habit of returning after it had destroyed its target.

“The Countess is correct. After a uncivilised outburst, much like the one you have just made, Alicia issued demands and threats that were not hers to make. She elected to leave our alliance and face the Priest, and as such gave up any claim to protection from ourselves. She sealed her own fate, Dr Oswald.”

He moved around the table towards Hatesman. “And you, sir, have no right to make demands when you have fulfilled none of your obligations to this alliance. Perhaps you would be wise to hold your tongue before you lose it…along with your head.”

He smiled, half hoping the brute would take the bate and resort to violence. The smooth running of the LoRDs’ plans were only one of the reasons it suited Romanov for Hatesman to die. “But we have lost the Lady Pistol so perhaps your return is fortuitous after all. But if you will grant me a moment there is still the matter at had to address.”

He stared at Primogen, allowing him the faintest glimpse of the ancient evil that empowered him. “Your actions are an outrage and if did not have the Countess and the Court to hide behind your punishment would be swift and final. A network of spies you say? Barzini’s men were already spies serving the interests of the LoRDs. And now they serve you? By what authority?”

He took a breath. Still calm. All attention on him. “If you wish to make a play for the Countess’ throne that is your affair, I have neither the time or inclination to play a part in the theatrical intrigues of your dead race. But you will not do it on these islands. You will not stand in the way of my plans or you will soon realise you are little more than a fly in a thunderstorm.”

He looked at Dire Wolf. The giant zombie prodded the lifeless vampire’s face through the bars like a child that had broken its new toy. He returned to Primogen. “Bring the other seven here. Alive. They are the property of the LoRDs and we will decide their fate.

“You are dismissed.”

The afternoon sun was fierce, the air hot and heavy, when Romanov appeared outside Countess Bathory’s villa a week after the LoRDs last meeting had concluded. As his feathered guardians look to their perches he walked to the front door holding a black, silk drawstring bag in his hand.

Inside, the Countess was sitting at the head of a new table laden with her usual hospitality.

Romanov bowed his head slightly. “Good afternoon, Countess, and thank you for your gracious offer to host this meeting which I wish were not necessary. I hope you don’t mind my early arrival as there is a matter I wish to discuss with you in private.”

He opened the black bag and removed Alicia Barzini’s head. The expression of pain had been replaced with a blank stillness and the once ragged scar was just a pale line on her forehead. He placed it on the table. “I see no reason why Barzini should not continue to attend our conferences. If for no other reason that to serve as a warning for any who would be fool enough to consider derailing our efforts.”

He looked at the Countess. “And now to business.” He turned to the door. “Enter.”

Dire Wolf, the hulking, dark-skinned zombie lurched into the room pulling another figure along by a chain. The second figure, a well-built European man in a pale cotton suit, had a metal cage over his head. His hands were also in the cage, raised up on either side of the cage. The thin bars of the cage pierced his flesh where they were screwed to the bones of his skull, wrists and hands. The man snarled, resisted as much as the trap would allow, as he flashed his fangs.

Romanov looked at the Countess, darkness in his eyes. “Although their mistress is dead, Barzini’s men still had a vital role to play as agent provocateurs in our endeavours. Despite Alicia’s petulant outburst, they were about to play their most significant part yet. That part has been somewhat hampered by them being turned into…vampires. I must remind you, Countess, that no part of our plan involved transforming these islands with all their rich potential into a desolate nation of parasites.”

The zombie forced the caged vampire to his knees. “If this is your doing, I demand an explanation. If, however, as I suspect, this is the action of one of your court, the responsibility is yours to make sure one with such ambition takes his rightful place at our table.” He stroked Barzini’s lush, dark hair. “That place being next to the lady Pistol.”

His eyes were cold steel. “You understand?”

“I think we can assign the word unwise to most of her behaviour today,” said Romanov calmly.

“This is not the first time the Priest has stumbled into my affairs but it shall be the last. The first efforts should be to diffuse the situation before it arrives on our doorstep.”

He looked out over the ocean. “But if the Militia stick their noses in they will be dealt with.”

He spared a second’s thought for the dead Militia leader, Britanic. “They will learn there is only one fate for those that oppose me.”

He turned and looked at the sleeping woman in the bed. “Now, leave here, vampire, and do not return. I will send word to your Countess soon.”

The sky burned blood red as the sun set on the Liberty Islands. Romanov stood on the balcony of the Nasri Villa watching the sea churn. A storm was coming to the islands.

Rashme Nasri was sleeping peacefully in her bed. She would not wake until he wished it.

A bony, decaying hand gripped the balustrade. A hulking zombie hauled itself up on to the balcony. Another was perched on the roof like a gargoyle.

The first zombie, Dire Wolf, bowed its head and placed a wet sack on the breakfast table. “Massster,” was its only attempt at communication.

Romanov opened the sack.

The dead eyes of Alicia Barzini stared back. Her face locked in pain. An angry wound on her forehead.

Romanov picked up the head. Brought it close to his handsome face as if they were about to share one last embrace.

“I am sure you welcomed oblivion at the end, Alicia. But I am afraid that death is only the beginning of your service to me.”

He closed the damp sackcloth around the fallen crimelord’s head.

Iron Dragon, the zombie on the roof, opened his mouth with a hiss. “The Priessst Livesss.”

Romanov contemplated the blood red sky. “Then we must be prepared. Go now and tell the LoRDs on the island that the Priest has fled. Tell them to make ready.”

“Yesss Massster.”

((Adapted from a rp session))

A Romanov/Zortel Joint

Warning: Story contains mild sexual references and horror movie/comic book violence

Dee Dee Diablo and Nene McAllister in…

(VAMPIRE) CHILDREN OF A LESSER GOTH

[u]Chapter One[u]

Dee was slouched on the sofa in the apartment, one leg casually swinging over the arm. She was reading Stigma magazine, the roughly produced magazine that was none-the-less the bible to those in the Paragon punk scene.

She stopped on page three. There was an article about three girls and a guy who had gone missing after attending the battle of the bands night at the Comet Club four nights earlier. The Comet Club being the spiritual home of her band, The Last Word, was enough to make her read past the first few lines. Then she realised she had been there with Ryan that night. Not that she could remember much; everything between taking on those Outcasts in a cagefight and being slung out of Hornblowers was a muddy blur.

"Miss, come and look at this," called Dee.

Her partner, the statuesque gynoid Nene, finished quickly finished tidying up the kitchen and walked over to Dee. "What've you found, Dee?" she asked with a smile on her face, kneeling besides the sofa and kissing her girlfriend’s shoulder before peering at the mag.

"Four people who were at the Comet Club on Tuesday have disappeared,” explained Dee. “Nobody saw them after the Comet Clash. That's the night me and Ryan were there."

"Ah yes, the night I had to amuse myself," Nene teased, before looking serious. "That is unfortunate though... do the police have any leads?"

Dee sat up. "I don't know...can you check online see if they've been found yet?" She paused, her nose scrunching with a girlish mischief that only Nene ever saw. "Amuse yourself? Did you tape it?"

"Maybe." Nene said, the glow in her eyes flickering as she connected her WiFi link to begin surfing. "I borrowed one of the Christmas presents I gave you; Mister Buzzy."

Dee thought of the custom made vibrator. And Nene. Before her girlfriend brought her back to reality.

"... You have a little hunch for crime, my Dee." Nene said with a frown. "Their bodies were found in Kings Row, throats slit and drained of blood. All four were between the ages of 18 to 24. I could probably try to access the autopsy report, but it may take some time."

Dee pouted. "That sucks. I mean people being murdered is bad but...those kids were like me. They were just out to have a good time. I think maybe it's time for some Dee-tective work. Want to be my Watson?"

"Indubitably, Sherlock Diablo," Nene said as she nodded. "What do you feel our first course of investigation should be?"

Dee rubbed her chin, knowing from television that it was an aid to thinking. "We could go and talk to Ron at the Comet I guess. Or we could check if there have been any other similar murders they...sound like a serial killer or something, do you think?"

"Hmm... We may wish to follow up on that second thing first,” replied Nene. “This does seem to be pre-meditated." She looked to Dee. "If we get on the computers, we could check if there were other crimes with a similar M.O?"

"Yeah, look for the M.O. thing."

Nene teleported her brass and wood fixtured laptop and handed it to Dee. She sat on the floor beside the sofa, resting her head against Dee as she searched. "I'll be busy with the autopsy report as well, so maybe check Google for news reports?"

”Right, what’s the address for Google again…wait, I’ll Google it…oh…yeah.” She gave a self-deprecating smile before starting her search. After about ten minutes her body twitched and bumped Nene’s head. "[censored], you don't realise how many people go missing or get murdered til you check for stuff like this! I found three that seem similar. A group of people go missing and get found with their throats sliced. They all went to gigs too...one time in New York, one in New Jersey and the other in Pennsylvania."

Nene looks to Dee, wondering if she would make the connection needed. "Interesting, Dee... all four died due to blood loss, and not from the jugular injuries... there were traces of an anti-coagulant in their blood as well."

"An anti-what now?"

"It prevents blood-clotting. Certain insects that feed on blood release it to prevent the wound healing over while they feed, and the blood itself."

"They were killed by giant insects?" she asked, typing on the keyboard. "Oh, look here, there was one band on the bill at all four gigs. Maybe they are giant bugs or at least might know something?"

"Which band was that? And well, I would not say giant insects necessarily, Dee. Bats do that too."

"They're called Suck Your Mother,” said Dee. “From what I hear they suck big time but they got a following among goths who like that vampire [censored]. VAMPIRES!"

"Bingo." Nene said, with a proud smile. "We find out where they're next performing then."

If it's in the city, it'll be in the Gig Listings in Stigma." Dee flicked through the magazine and ran her finger down the listings. "Here it is. They're playing tonight at the Sunset Lounge in King's Row."

"How ironic." Nene smirked, before looking to Dee. "Well then, as your Miss in the matter, and as your Watson, I leave it to you to decide how we proceed."

"Oh...yeah. Well, Watson, there is only one way to proceed as far as I can see,” said Dee, talking slowly as the idea formed in her head. “We disguise ourselves as hot goth chicks and try and make the vampires want to have sex and murder us. Hopefully in that order.” She paused. “Although hopefully it won’t get that far."

"That sounds good to me, Dee," said Nene. "Every band wants attractive gothic lesbian groupies, right?"

"Well they'd like to see girls do each other but not actual lesbians,” she looked down at her black “Robot in Disguise” tee and jeans. Passable possibly; but they both needed gothification. “So shall we go shopping?"

"I think that's a good idea Dee, and yes. I will amend my statement to attractive gothic bi groupies." Nene smiled.

She pushed herself up from the sofa. "Ok, there's the market near the uni in the Canyon, we should be able to get everything we need there." She concentrated for a second and the purple dye disappeared leaving it raven black. Her skin become paler and her features a little more perfect as she became the Dee that once had angel’s wings and wielded a holy sword. "Is that freaking you out yet?"

Nene smiled, stroking Dee’s hair. "Dee, my love, my father travels through time, my sister is a Japanese magical girl, and I am a gynoid. Nothing freaks me out that much anymore." She chuckled. "I'll get my purse, it'll be nice to see you in some gothic clothes." Nene smiled, getting up. "I'll have to hide my hair..."

Dee laughed. "Well it still freaks me out. Hey, do you think Sherlock and Watson went shopping before each case?"

"For opium and pipe tobacco, maybe. For hot little gothic numbers? No." Nene laughed.

Dee found the couple’s adopted baby devil Bubbles (who adopted who was debatable as they’d found him in their kitchen after Dee was rescued from her father Samyaza’s hell dimension prison). She sat Bubbles firmly down on a chair. He looked at her with his large, slightly yellow eyes. "Now, we are going out, ok? You have to stay here. You have a very important job looking after Spikey George and Mookie,” she said, referring to the couple’s other pets; a cactus and cat/rabbit/monkey robot respectively.

“And be good, ok?” she added “No Angela Landsbury and no eating any small animals! Mrs McGruder still thinks we had something to do with her cat going missing!" Bubbles seemed to understand and a box of Oreos sweetened the deal.

Mookie hugged Nene's ankle in an attempt to keep her from leaving, seeming a little put off (and scared) at the thought of being looked after by Bubbles. "There there, Mookie, we'll be back soon. Keep an eye on the place for us."

As the couple left, Dee turned. Pointing at her eyes and then at Bubbles, Mookie and Spikey George in turn Robert De Niro-style.

Nene looked to Dee once they were outside. "We just said goodbye to a baby demon, a robot monkey rabbit cat and a cactus, Dee."

Dee giggled. "Yeah, we should have just got a dog or something."

"I don't think a dog is very us, Dee Anyway, to Steel Canyon?" said Nee, offering Dee her arms to cuddle up in.

[u]Chapter Two[u]

An uneventful train journey took Dee and Nene to Steel Canyon. They walked though the University campus to a bustling indoor market, with many of the stalls selling wares made by the uni’s fashion, arts and design students.

One corner of the market was dedicated to clothing and accessories. Dee looked at Nene and grinned “Eighties montage!”

The young women spent almost an hour trying on different outfits and parading up and down the market aisles to gauge the other’s impressions of their choices. Finally, Nene settled on pretty black lace stockings topped with satin bows, a cheer net and lace skirt and a sexy little matching top. Dee settled on a vintage black lace dress, black boots and a leather jacket with tribal wings sprayed on the back. Adding a pair of kneed boots to her ensemble, Nene picked up the bill.

The girls spent another half an hour in the restroom to get their hair and make-up right. With Nene’s complexion she had gone for the porcelain doll look and Dee had a quality of a pre-shoplifting Winona Ryder.

[u]Chapter Three[u]

The sunset lounge was a single story white stucco building between a junkyard and a derelict office block. There was a line of young people, most of them dressed in black, snaking round the side of the building. There was a yellow poster advertising the gig that looked like a yellowing, Wild West wanted poster. It advertised Suck Your Mother as being from “Darkest Pennsylvania” and depicted four goth rocker guys and a girl riding motorbikes along a desert road.

The gynoid and the nephelim joined the line. "Well then... shall we get some drinks and make our way to the front? Try to catch their eyes?" said Nene as she smiled, a hand resting on the back of Dee's dress by her [censored].

Dee smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, this would be a good night if not for...the murders and [censored]. Oh, we should get vampires kisses...the drinks I mean."

Soon they were inside the club’s darkened interior. Nene guided her girl to the bar and ordered them vampire’s kisses, her hand still on Dee’s rear. "I was thinking I could do a little neck biting of my own up there to get their attention, if you're up for it," said Nene

Dee nodded as she sipped the thick, red cocktail. "I'm up for anything but...maybe they like the innocent type. We should check out what the other girls are doing."

"Sounds good to me, Dee," said Nene.

The band was in full flow on the stage. They were dressed in a fusion of theatrical and bondage gear, holding the mostly female audience captivated. The music wasn’t great and had an overtly vampiric and violent theme. The girls at the front are offering their necks and wrists to the lead singer; calling his name. Cardinal Black. He was an androgynous pale man with long black hair. He wore a frock coat over tight leather pants and a ripped black tee.

"Hmm... distinctly unimpressed." Nene said quietly to Dee. "Shall we initiate our plan, do you think?"

Dee nodded. "Yeah, the plan thing. Do you think they're really like...vampires?"

"They may be, or at least pretend to be and get pleasure from the murders and the act," Nene replied, moving towards the front of the crowd with some nudging and pushing.

Dee’s hand tightened on Nene as she allowed herself to be led. When they got to the front Dee started moving with the crowd. She kissed Nene's neck, whispering. "This feels a little weird."

"I know." Nene whispered back, rolling her neck to the side to fix her eyes on the lead singer. Speaking without moving her lips, she continued. "It's for a good cause though."

The girls in the crowd were almost hysterical. They seemed to genuinely want to be bitten, ravaged and even killed by the band who were describing such things in detail in their horror novel lyrics. From overhearing the girls call our to their favourites, Dee figured out that as well as Cardinal Black the band consisted of Jason Ash, Sonja Blood, Zach Shade and Jimmy the *******.

"Let's switch, plus I don't have to stoop over as much to bite your neck as I do for you to bite mine,” Nene said, her gaze still on the lead singer.

"Oh, you always have to be the dom, don't you!" whispers Dee with a fake pout.

Nene grinned. "Not always, remember the time with the whiskey in that hotel room? And all those other times? It's just easier this way for both of us," Nene said, sensually turning and brushing against Dee as she rotated to move behind her, not breaking body contact at any point, before leaning in to gently bite at Dee's neck, licking, nibbling and kissing.

Dee could feel Cardinal Black watching them. Although he kept moving around the stage, working it, his gaze kept returning to them.

Nene made a trail of kisses up to Dee's lips, a hand stroking her stomach, before kissing back down to the other side of her neck to nibble there. "I think we got his attention."

Dee makes a satisfied noise. "You're definitely got mine."

"Mmm, you're not the only one who can push the right buttons," Nene smirked, grazing her teeth down Dee's neck to the top of her back, before her tongue trailed its way to the nape of her shoulder.

The last song ended and the band looked into the audience before leaving. They seemed to point out certain people in the crowd. Cardinal Black pointed at Dee and Nene, before raising his fist in the air and leading the band off stage.

Nene somewhat reluctantly stopped her actions on Dee and waited to see where the other indicated people go.

A large man with a shaved head, biker gear and what looked like neo-Nazi tattoos, pushed through the crowd. He rounded up the girls and one young man who were indicated and lead them a door. He came back to Dee and Nene. "Your lucky night, [censored], the Cardinal wants you to join him for...a drink."

Nene grinned to Dee. "Lucky us... right baby?"

"Yeah, I feel like I won the [censored] lottery."

Nene took Dee's hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they followed the guy out back into a beige corridor with dirty brick-coloured tiles on the floor. Dee followed Nene, catching jealous looks from the other chosen ones. The big, shaved head guy grunted and pushed them to a green door at the end of the corridor.

[u]Chapter Four[u]

Behind the green door was what appeared to be a storage room as crates and boxes were piled up along the walls. In middle was a mattress with a black silk sheet that bore the stains from the last few uses. Semen and blood. There were some coiled ropes strewn across the mattress. Dee looked at Nene. "You have got to be [censored] me?"

"Apparently not...we need to be very careful here, Dee," Nene said quietly. "I won't let anything happen to you."

The big guy picked up the ropes. "The Cardinal wants you ready for him. Get on the bed."

"Not exactly my idea of how I'd be bitten," Nene sighed. "Very well..."

The guys grunted again. "Hey, plenty of girls out there would kill their own mother's to get in here." He tied them together face to face.

Dee whispered. "Are we having fun yet?"

Nene whispered back. "These knots are shoddy. Spikey George could tie it better... it's a disgrace." She seemed annoyed by that fact.

Dee smiled a little nervously. "I hope so...I'd rather not die like this."

"I'd never let anyone hurt you, Dee," Nene said as she smiled softly, giving her a quick, loving look, before leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

The big guy left. A moment later Cardinal Black entered and looked at the women. "Yeah, that's the stuff,” he said in a Cockney accent “I knew just from looking you were a right pair of dirty [censored]."

Dee looked at him. "A Cockerney is ya, guv'na? I come from old Blighty too I do." Dee winked at Nene, proud of her second language.

Cardinal laughed. "It’s lucky you’re a looker, doll. I don't know what you're on, girl, but I'll have some of that. I will soon enough anyway."

Nene looked to Cardinal and grinned. "I'm not dirty... I'm obscene. "Just ask her." Dee nodded in agreement.


"I bet you are,” he replied. “Anyway, an old friends in town so we're gonna 'ave to make this shindig a quickie. Carry on kissing."

"I can do quickies." Nene said, leaning in to kiss Dee again, keeping her eyes open. She tilted her head to the side to reveal her neck, her internal speakers sounding to whisper to Dee. "If they bite me first, we can use the confusion to get them."

Cardinal Black sat on one of the crates, unzipped his leather pants. He started jerking off as he watched Dee and Nene performance. Dee moved so her face was hidden by Nene's head and pulled a disgusted face. "If any of it goes in my hair, I'm going to freak out!" se hissed.

"I know... the things we get into to fight crime," Nene sighed, making a show of making out with Dee.

"It's kind of insulting. I mean he has two hot girls here, you think he'd want us to..."

The Cardinal shouted: "Stop [censored] talking you're ruining my imersionnnnnnnnnnn!"

"I know, who said musicians ever made sense?" Nene sighed to Dee, with a concealed wink and grin.

Spent, the singer walked over the Dee and Nene, grabbing them by the hair and yanking their heads back.

Dee smiled "So now you've shot your load and guess you're not going to call us a cab so we can go home?"

The Cardinal gave a movie villain laugh. "And disappoint you? You know why you're here and you know how lucky you are to be chosen. You're going to give yourselves to me so I can live forever."

Dee rolled her eyes. "Look, we just came back here to do a little girl on girl and get [censored] every which way by a rock star so we'd have something cool to put on our MySpace. We didn't sign up for any freaky [censored]."

"You're doing the hair pulling all wrong, anyway," Nene sniffed disapprovingly. "You're supposed to hook your fingers through and turn your hand, then pull," she critiqued, before glancing to Dee. "Guess we won't have anything hot to go on our page."

Dee laughed. "Damien and the Dead Boys are playing over in Skyway, we should have gone there."

A flash of anger passed over the Cardinal’s face and he pulled their hair hard. "Those [censored] fakers! Fine, I prefer it when they're into it...when we can share the sweet embrace, the crossover from life to death. But by force is fun too. For me at least. Who wants it first."

"She does, I like to watch," said Dee. She poked her tongue at Nene.

Nene winced a little as the Cardinal gave her hair another tug. "Good force technique, but by my method you avoid less hair removal. It's also easier to direct us with the pressure of the side of your hand and your wrist," she complimented him, before poking her tongue back at Dee. "Alright babe, but you owe me big time."

The Cardinal leaned in between Dee and Nene, baring his teeth as he got close to Nene's pale flesh. Sure enough he had a pair of pronounced canines. With a quick motion he sank his teeth into her neck. Clang! Pain crossed Cardinal Black's face, and he move back with a hand across his mouth, moaning in agony. Where he had bit in, Nene's subdermal gel was leaking out, along with the blue flash of electrical impulses across her subdermal sensor net, and the gleam of her silver-white chassis.

Dee giggled. Cardinal slapped her across the face then went back to nursing his hurt mouth.

Dee looked angrily at him "You [censored] [censored]! We're all having a bit of fun and you have to go too far!"

Nene's expression narrowed dangerously. "No one's allowed to hit my girl. You best apologise, lest I be forced to feed you your own phallus. Without detaching it from you first."

"Ooh, you should tape that, we could put it on YouTube," said Dee, trying to show Nene that she wasn’t hurt bad.

The Cardinal stepped back closer to them. "I don't know what you are, [censored]," he said to Nene before sniffing Dee. "But I know there's blood in your girlfriend here. So I guess it's your turn to watch, ain't it?"

Nene suddenly began to feel worried, and started trying to get her wrists free of the rope. "I'm not much of a voyeur, sorry."

The ropes stayed fast. Cardinal smiled. "Enchanted ropes, swapped ‘em for a bag of shrunken 'eads with a little shaman in Shoreditch. Now where was I...oh, yeah, I'm dying for a drink!"

Dee looks scared for a moment and whispered. "If I burn through them I'll hurt you, Miss,"

Nene's fear built. With this close proximity, she couldn’t manipulate her powers without hurting Dee. That horrible feeling where she didn’t know what to do, and even worse, Dee is in danger...

The Cardinal's teeth pierced Dee's neck. Blood spurted and he drank deeply. He raised his head up, blood dripping from his lips. He paused; a look of confusion then fear on his face. Then, as quick as flicking a light switch, his head burst into flames from the inside out. His torso stumbled around the room setting crates filled with spirits before falling to the ground. Still.

Dee looked at Nene. "Now I don't think any of us expected that to happen."

"Indeed." Nene said with an awed expression. "I'm glad that's never happened to me," she said, watching the dead body of Cardinal Black.

Dee looks scared and seems to search in her mind for the positive. "It could be...the angel part of me...in my blood...making it like holy water."

The sound of commotion outside interrupted her train of thought.

"That would be a likely theory... that doesn't sound good though." Nene bit her lip. "You may have to burn through the ropes, I'm not sure if my powers would work on them."

"Ok, it's just...I don't burn people as bad as I burn stuff...I'm just worried that, as far as my powers are concerned, you might be classed as...well...stuff. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll mend, Dee, and we need to get out of this,” the gynoid replied. “You've always put your trust in me in whatever we've done, I put my trust in you to get us out of this, no matter the pain." She smiled softly.

Dee closed her eyes and breathed deep. "Ok, I'm going to do the band aid approach...one fast..." Her arms burst into flames and she stood, breaking free of the ropes as she tried to push Nene clear of the flames."

Nene fell back. The flames were gone. Her synthskin was melted and charred in places, stuck to her chassis from the rapid burn. Tendrils of smoke spiralled from where her subdermal gel had burnt. Pulses of feeling ran up her arms from her damaged sensor net, causing her to bite her lip before breathing out. "Okay... I'm good... I'm good. Good work, Dee," she said, getting to her feet.

Dee looked at Nene, scared she has hurt the one person she cared about more than any other. "Yeah, you sure? I mean, you look...you look fine. Honestly!"

Nene smiled at Dee, blowing her a kiss. "I'm sure. I'm very proud of you Dee." she reassured her, giving her a quick hug before looking to the door. "Let's go and arrest these jerks... they're not going to get any more blood from fans."

"Right," said Dee, looking around the room. "Look, I know that we have all these funky powers and stuff but..." She broke a pointed shard of wood from one of the burnt crates. "...what say we go old school on these bloodsucking *************?"

Nene broke off a piece of splintered wood from the crate and chuckled. "They didn't even try to impale us, so we might as well give if we didn't receive."

Dee touched the weeping wound on her neck. "Yeah, I've been penetrated enough for one night, I'm all up for some role reversal."

The door swung open and two vampires band members lunged into the room. Moving as one Dee and Nene staked them through their hearts. They looked shocked for a second then exploded into clouds of dust.

Dee smiled at Nene. "Just like on Buffy...cool!"

"Very cool, yes... and I'll clean that wound up when we get home, Dee." Nene smiled to her. "Let's do this."

They stepped out into the corridor. On one side the female and remaining male vampire stood snarling at them. On the other the large, bald biker guy was running towards them. He morphed into a large grey wolf about the size of a pony.

Dee sighed. "[censored]."

"Let me handle him, Dee?" Nene smiled at Dee, already beginning to manipulate time and space in front of them.

"Sure, I left my silver bullets at home!"

A small portal manifested in front of them, and the guitar of Cardinal Black flies out at high speed like a missile towards the werewolf. The guitar knocks the werewolf out cold but his bulky momentum caused him to continue to slide towards Dee and Nene with the force of a train. Dee held on to Nene's wrist.

"Time for another trick!" Nene said, reaching out with her hands to channel a tear in space from in front of them to a few feet in front of the vampires.

The wolf crashed into the vampires. They began to get up, hurt and angrier than before. The male reached inside his waistband and pulled out a tarnished pistol. Dee spied the band’s drum kit in the corridor and yanked off one of the cymbals. She looked at Nene. "Death by rock and roll, it's the way I'd want to go." She threw the cymbal like a warrior princess’ chakram. It bounced of the walls, veering way off course before it hit the wall one more time sending it back on track. It sliced his head clean off and his body exploded in a cloud of dust like the others.

Nene grinned and leapt forwards towards the female vampire. Raining down blows on her, before hoisting her above her head with apparent ease. Spotting a conveniently places microphone stand, she slammed the vampire down on to it. With a puff of dust, she was gone. "Those lyrics really got to her heart," said Nene.
Dee signed long and hard. She slipped her arm around Nene and held her.

A naked girl stomped out of one of the rooms with a look on thunder on her face. "What the hell have you done? I've been waiting for months to be picked. Jimmy was just about to embrace me when...you [censored]!"

She slapped Dee hard across the face. Dee looked at her for a second before punching her. The girl seemed to be thinking of something to say before slumping to the ground. Knocked out cold.

"Ungrateful [censored]! You just can't help some people, Miss."

"I know, ah well, you know how fangirls can get," Nene sighed.

"Slapped twice in one night...and not even by you!" said Dee, resting her head on Nene’s shoulder.

Nene puts her arm around Dee. "I know.... ah well. We should probably leave a tip for the authorities," she said, glancing to her hands. "Then shall we get home? I need to change my skin, and we need to get your neck seen to."

Dee and Nene walked out of the Sunset.

Romanov poured himself a brandy from a decanter before sitting down. “Good, Adam. I wondered how long it would take for you to as the American’s say step up to the plate.

“If you are agreeable I would like you to prepare to take control of the weapons we have here and Buku’s troops. When our plan is set in motion, they will be our first line of defence against any interference. Someone with combat experience as well as your technical expertise should be at their head. Just make sure to do it in a way that you are not recognised.”

He turned to the vampire. “Countess, you must endure playing Buku’s counsel for a little longer yet. Try to resist killing his man Tutu, I understand he was Borealis way into the weapons deal and his death would arose suspicion.”

“Erebus you seem to have your affairs in order. We will meet again when Barzini and this Priest are dealt with.

“XV, you don’t need my agreement to kill Pistol, she left us no option. Just make sure it is she that kills the Priest, she might prove more use to us in death.”

He finished his drink and stood. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must take measures to ensure what is about to transpire is fed to the world as we would wish it. I will then return to the Nasri villa and prepare them for the next step.” He bowed his head. “Good night, Lords.”

Buzz Around Paragon news website, Thursday, April 24

Words: @Romanov
Design: @Rhino

MURDER SUSPECT SLICES MILITIA LEADER’S EAR OFF IN ARREST DRAMA

THE daughter of billionaire Alexander Romanov is behind bars after being charged with the murder of a decorated Longbow commander.
And, it has been claimed, during her arrest Nadja Romanov, 27, hacked hero Amber Banshee’s ear clean off as she tried to make her escape.
It followed the death of Longbow Commander Uther Stonefang in a sunken temple off the east coast of Sharkshead Island, Etoile.
A single silver bullet to the head killed Stonefang, a werewolf who was one of Longbow’s most respected officers.
Longbow Sergeant Malachi O’Brien said: “Commander Stonefang was a legend, there is no other word for him. He may have had the body of a monster but he had the mind of a general, the soul of a poet and the heart of a lion. With him leading from the front, our confidence was never higher that we would win the battle in the Etoile Islands.”
The drama unfolded last night after Longbow and Militia leader The Amber Banshee were dispatched to the temple as part of an ongoing investigation.
Nadja Romanov was arrested trying to make her way out of the temple’s tunnels after the commander had been shot. It is believed that other suspects fled the scene.
It was there that The Amber Banshee challenged and overpowered her. But it is claimed that Romanov lashed out with a concealed blade.
The Amber Banshee was treated at Longbow’s base in Nerva Achipelago before being airlifted to a specialist plastic surgeon at the Phoenix Medical Center, Talos Island.
Nadja Romanov was also injured during the altercation and is currently being held at the Ziggursky Prison hospital wing.
Romanov, a former Oxford graduate and Olympic gymnast, recently left her job at her father’s company League Associated Industries. She made her living as a respected dealer in antiques and artefacts and had no criminal record.

Romanov turned to the Countess and bowed slightly. “As a guest in your home my behaviour has done me a disservice. I will make more than adequate remuneration for the damages, Countess. Of more concern is Barzini’s behaviour; if I was not certain I would sense such a thing I would say that she was possessed.” He looked at the other LoRDs in turn. “I hope you agree that I gave her more than a fair chance to see the error of her ways.”

A mental link with the zombies relayed the outside conversation to Romanov. “The Priest is here. Pistol has gone to kill him.” He gestured to Iron Dragon and Dire Wolf. Their armour clattered as they turned to face him. “Follow her. Make sure the Priest dies at her hand.”

The hulking zombies bowed and looked at their master for more orders. “Then bring me the head of Alicia Barzini.”

“Yessss, General,” they said in unison, voices like a crypt door creaking open.

The two zombie enforcers marched out of the villa. Leaping into the sky like missiles.

Romanov looked at the black fragments of the table mingling with the red rust of Pistol’s impotent bullets.

“If I may, I suggest we move to the parlour,” said Romanov. “Adam, you said you had some designs you wished us to see?”

Romanov concentrated. Focusing the forces of entropy. Of decay. Death. The speeding bullets corroded in the air, ravaged by a reddish brown cancer. The flakes of rust fluttered like ash from a funeral pyre eight feet from their target.

His jaw tightened. Still calm but ready to kill.

“There is no conspiracy, Barzini, none that we are not all a part. You are the one who has voiced a wish to undermine our efforts just as they come to fruition. You are the one who has brought violence to this meeting. You are the one who must answer for you actions.

“I saw so much promise in you. Let me tell you this; it is not the size of your slice of the pie that matters it’s how big the pie gets. Do you understand? We can only achieve our goal together. And a seventh share of that is more valuable that all of nothing. But I am one breath away from wanting to this world to burn rather than see you rule any part of it.”

He looked to Erebus. Bathory. XV. When his gaze returned to Barzini, his two most loyal servants had materialised in front of Pistol. Blackened skin tight over bone. The blades of their swords at her throat.

“The Dire Wolf and Iron Dragon always watch over me, Pistol. But I had thought the threat would come from other quarters.”

He paused, taking in the senses of the zombies in the shadows outside. “Your men are outside. I suspect they are as rash as their mistress and are about to engage my zombies and the Countess’ servants. And that will be the end of things. And you will wish for the comfort of the grave before this night it out.”

He looked at her, brushing the rusty remnants of her bullets from his expensive sleeve. “I will ask you one more time. Lay down your guns and rejoin this alliance. Sit so that we can turn our energies on those we would conquer rather than each other. What do you say, Barzini?”

Although the scuffle maybe fun, it might be difficult to play out. We'll see.

I'm a little concerned XV is being overlooked - won't somebody look at his blueprints!

[ QUOTE ]
I PM'd Liz a while back about getting in on this. Is there any chance we can weave the Primogen into the plot somehow? I'm open to ideas.

[/ QUOTE ]

The short answer is yes. However, Liz is away for seven days and I don't know your character or what you've discussed. I'm the GM of the Liberty Islands, so if you want to be involved at this stage you can PM me some info and ideas.

The other option is to wait until things move back to Paragon and Etoile. But that may me weeks away and it looks like the LoRDs may be about to kill each other anyway

If you insist. Only problem is we only get to kill her once...oh with two necromancers and a vampire...

Romanov watched Pistol’s pantomime with interest. Like a parent watching a child forget her words in the school play and resort to a tantrum.

The attempts of the others to calm the situation were irrelevant. Only Barzini’s words and actions in the next moments would decide if she lived or died.

The carrion crows around the villa chattered and ruffled their feathers. Falling from the trees they took on the form of men long dead. They held their position in the shadows.

His surface was still glacier calm. “I don’t know what you have loaded in those guns, Alicia, but if you’re under any impression they can kill me you are seconds away from being sorely disappointed.”

He placed his hand on the table. The wood began to blacken. Warp and rot. Within seconds it crumbled to dust.

Romanov stood. “My gift is to put things together as I have with the elements of our plan. But I am also blessed with an understanding that…things fall apart.”

He rubbed the black dust beneath his fingers, letting it fall to the floor. “I asked you if you were drowning. You’ve given your answer. Now you have a choice take my hand offered in one final gesture of comradeship or turn and run like a dog.”

The whole next stage of the plan is up for discussion.

Romanov nodded, his face showing no emotion. “Thank you, Lord Erebus. Countess. You have exceeded expectations in your efforts and we now find ourselves on the brink of success.”

He looked at Pistol. His anger still contained save for a darkness in his eyes. It was her he was most enthused about allying himself with and her petulant attitude perhaps showed her true self. The price of working with common criminals.

“More than two months? And how long did you set aside for the conquest of a nation? A day? A week perhaps? There are machinations in motion that began centuries ago and you take offence at a matter of weeks. Such a prize won in haste would be lost even quicker.”

He placed his hands firmly on the table. Still in control. “You have just heard from myself, Bathory and Erebus that things are progressing as we planned. And now as we reach a critical stage you will withdraw your men when they are needed most.”

He looked at her hard. “Is this a situation you think you can walk away from now? This alliance was brought about by you and believe me when I respectfully say your fate is entwined in it. Or are you really just a gangster with grand ideas that have taken her out of her depth?”

He held her gaze. "Are you drowning, Ms Barzini?"

Romanov took the seat offered to him and nodded in appreciation of his hostess’ hospitality. He then nodded a greeting to Pistol.

“As Erebes is already on the islands I’m sure he will not keep us waiting long. I don’t think there is need to delay our discussion any longer as I have other things to attend to on the islands while I am here.”

A newspaper appeared before him. “I am sure you have seen the Inquirer’s coverage of Buku in print and on the internet. Things are going as planned. I’m sure we will begin to see evidence of international pressure to resolve things through peaceful means very soon.” He smiled. “Which plays right into our hands.”

He poured Barzini and himself a glass of wine before continuing. “My mentorship of the Nasris is going as planned. The girl in particular is most receptive to my influence. The father is still headstrong but he respects my advice and I don’t believe he will present much of a problem while we still require him alive.”

He looked at the two women. “Seated as I am with to such beautiful women it is with regret the conversation must me so mundane. But I must ask how your efforts on the islands are progressing?”

Nadja Romanov
East shore, Sharkshead Island – Then

Nadja held on to her prize tightly as she ran along the ancient tunnel hewn through the rock. Even wrapped in black cloth she could feel its dark hunger. Its dark energy merging with her own. She had been fortunate that Stonefang’s Longbow had pursued the Arachnos soldiers. The remaining mages had defended the Eye to the death. Their blood on her blades.

She stopped to get her bearings. Reading the map had been pretence for Bojan and her Wolf Spiders, the entwining miles of tunnels were fixed in her mind. Another mile and she would be on a beach several miles from the point she at the Arachnos team had entered.

A noise. Footsteps on stone. She looked at the perfect ebony orbs of the Anasazi Eye one more time before clutching it to her chest like a beloved child. The cold steel of her dagger in her other hand ready to taste more blood.

She stopped. Nowhere to hide. Running took her back towards the Longbow looking to avenge their dead leader. She checked the emergency teleport she was carrying; the magical wards protecting the temple combined with the thick walls of rock put the chances of a clean teleport somewhere between slim and none.

Her hand tightened on the knife as a shadow loomed around the bend. A hero appeared. She as hardly more than a girl. She had a certain awkwardness about her as if she was uncomfortable in her green and orange uniform. A dusting of freckles around the small green mask.

“Stop right there and put the knife down,” said the hero. “I don’t want to have to hurt you” Quite reasonable thought Nadja but it all depended on who was getting hurt.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for,” said Nadja. “Let me past.”

The hero didn’t buy it. “I can’t do that…”

Nadja lunged at her with the dagger. But as the blade came close to its target, she felt like she had hit a wall. Or a wall had hit her, ringing with the sound of a perfectly pitched note. She fell back. The air forced out of her lungs. At least two ribs cracked. Her ears ringing. A trickle of blood running from her nose on to her lip. A blasted sonic!

She struggled to get up.

“Stay down,” said the hero. “You’re hurt, moving will make it worse. I don’t want to have to knock you out.”

Nadja used all her remaining strength to make a swipe at the hero’s Achilles’ tendons. Her hand felt like it was in a vice as a note attuned to the knife’s frequency forced it out of her hand. The dagger clattered into the darkness.

The exertion had made the cracks in her ribs worse. The pain was like tightening bands of hot metal around her chest.

Drops of blood fell from her nose onto the dusty floor of the tunnel. “You made me bleed, [censored].” she told the hero.

The hero came closer. “Please don’t try that again, miss.” She looked at the bundle still in Nadja’s grasp. “Let me take a look…”

As the hero stooped, Nadja pulled the fake fingertip from the ring finger of her left hand unsheathing a small poisoned blade. She wasn’t going to let the hero take the Eye. Not now.

She struck at the hero’s face. An arc of blood in the air. A scream that shook the tunnel walls.

Nadja forced herself to stand. The hero’s blood dripping from her own face.

She sighed as she saw the Longbow soldiers running towards her. She turned to the fallen hero. “You’re marked now, hero. My mark. Next time…next time we meet, I’ll kill you.”

She forced a smile at the Longbow. Knew it was over before they fired their guns.

As she slipped into unconsciousness she heard the panic and urgency of the Longbow.

“We need to stop the bleeding. Dammit, Jim, the blade was poisoned. It’s acting as an anti-coagulant.”

“Someone pick up the ear, don’t just leave it there. Ice, we need ice, it’ll be half an hour at least before we can get topside.”

“Radio the base. Tell them to prep the operating room. We’re bringing The Amber Banshee in.”

Romanov took her hand and bowed slightly. “Too long, Countess. You look enchanting as ever. Regrettable, but even here on the islands I think it is prudent that we meet only when necessary. They are not ours yet.”

He took her arm as they waked to the villa. “I believe Ms Barzini is already here. As I understand it, Lord Borealis is tying up some loose ends in the Etoile Islands so we may not see him this evening. As for the others they have been disturbingly quiet of late. You managed to send word to them of the meeting?”

A swirling black cloud moved at speed towards Palm Villa. With practically no cameras or other surveillance equipment that wasn’t under the LoRDs’ control, it was liberating to be able to move around the islands as dark nature intended.

The cloud slowed, the smoky tendrils contracted and Romanov stepped from the darkness outside the Countess’ villa. He motioned to the cloud with his left hand; it billowed and swirled before forming dozens of indigenous carrion crows. They flew to perches around the property. Watching.

Romanov gently readjusted the cuff of his expensive silk shirt as the Countess’ Rolls Royce came to a halt on the white stone path in front of the villa.

There is no reason why the Priest and others can’t enter the Liberty Islands . You could PM me with any measures being taken to provide a cover or avoid detection.

I’m also interested in the thought processes that would take The Priest or heroes to the islands at this stage. So far the violence has been between the military and Vanguard, there have been no reports of civilian casualties. There have been scuffles between the rival political factions and their supporters, but this is minor compared to things that happen in Paragon on an hourly basis.

Later

Romanov, dressed in a pristine black suit, left Rashme asleep in the cooling evening breeze from the open window and walked down the stairs into the main room of the villa. It was a hive of activity as members of Hatem Nasri’s United Freedom Coalition worked hard on organising rallies, information gathering and general ideological discussion. All of the Islands’ ethnic groups were represented; Native Islanders, Africans, Indians and Europeans.

Some acknowledged the Nasri’s expert political advisor with a smile while others carried on with there work or conversations.

“Excuse me, Mr Romanov,”

Romanov looked at the slim, young black man in his late twenties who he has observed carried a torch for Rashme Nasri. “Yes, Simon, how can I help?”

Simon pulled the hem of his green t-shirt. “I don’t know how to say this, sir, I…I’ve did some research about you on the world wide web. There are some things that worried me…a little…I wonder if you would…”

Romanov patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be so afraid, Simon. I know that you are only trying to protect Hatem and Rashme. We have that in common, do we not?”

“Yes. I…”

“I will be happy to answer any questions you have, Simon,” said Romanov as he guided him to the storage room. “But let’s do this in private. Although I have nothing to hide, a rumour once started can take on a life of its own.”

“Yes…of course.”

Romanov closed the storeroom door behind them and smiled.. “Now, Simon, what is it that’s troubling you?

“I don’t know how to say this.” Simon reached into one of the pockets of his cargo pants and pulled out some printed sheets. “You have been investigated by the FBI, Interpol, the CIA, Longbow…I know nothing has ever been proved but…as you say…I wish to look out for Rashme…and her father. And there were the charges of illegal weapons deals…”

Romanov nodded. “A businessman such as myself has to live with mistrust and unwanted attention such as this, Simon. I assure you that I have nothing to hide and wish no ill to the beautiful Rashme or her father. I am glad you came to me, it is good to know the UFC has at least one inquiring mind. I hope you remain as vigilant”

“Thank you , sir. I will.”

“I know. And that’s the problem right there.” Romanov’s arm sprang forward with the speed of a striking cobra. His hand gripped the lower half of Simon’s face, lifting him from the ground and pressing him against the wall. Smothering his nose and mouth he held him as he suffocated.

As he died, Romanov leaned close to Simon. “The old adages, my friend. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.”

A silent incantation. Romanov opened his mouth and a swirling red and black mist floated out and found a home inside Simon’s mouth an nostrils. Simon’s eyes opened wide.

“Destroy any evidence of your research on me. Then get back to work,” said Romanov.

Simon nodded. “Yes….Master.”

Prologue: Romanov

Tuesday, April 22, Hatem Nasri’s Villa, three miles south of Liberty City, The Liberty Islands

The Liberty Islands afternoon sun cast golden beams across the wooden beams of the bedroom floor. The white linen of the bedclothes. The fine dusted perspiration of the two naked bodies; one with curved flesh like sun-warmed bronze the other hard and pale like sculpted marble.

The young woman gave a sigh, pleasure and exhaustion, as she rested her head on the man’s perfect chest.

“That was…breathtaking, Alex,” she said in the melodic accent of the Liberty Islands. “It is amazing even to me that I had waited so long. But there was my studies and helping my father’s cause and… never dreamt it would be so…so…”

She pushed her long, black hair back from her pretty face and made a moan of pleasurable excitement that expressed her feelings better than any word in the vocabulary of the six languages she spoke.

Romanov turned to admire the beautiful Indian woman. “My dear, Rashme, had you not waited for me, it would not have been. And do not think time given to your father’s cause a waste. Hatem Nasri is a great man and he will lead your country from these dark times.”

Rashme sighed, propping her self on one arm and resting the other across Romanov’s chest. “I know. And we are so grateful for your political advice, Alex. Without you we would not have got as far as we have. But I worry about him. At the last few rallies there has been trouble that almost became violence. I sometimes wonder where all this hostility is coming from.”

Romanov stroked her hair. “Some of the old adages are true, angel, and Buku has become corrupted by power. Many of the people are proud of their country, others are scared by Vanguard’s presence and the Rikti threat. They are looking for someone to lead them, and many think that Buku and force is the way. You and your father must show them there is another way.”

She smile. “You always no what to say, Alex. But what if something did happen to him? I…I am not ready to…”

Romanov pulled her to him and kissed her. “You are ready, Rashme. You are a remarkable young woman and I will always be here to guide you as long as you need it. But don‘t worry, nothing will happen to your father.” Following the truth with a lie.

She slid her leg across his body, placed her and on his shoulders and pushed herself up she was straddling him. “I sometimes wonder why you have helped us so much already, Mr Romanov.”

In a surge of movement he flipped her over, firm yet gentle. His arm gripped her strong thigh as it wrapped around him, her body shivering with expectation. “Believe me, Rashme, helping you is its own reward.”

((Evidence of the LoRDs machinations is now trickling into the public domain. Players with characters who may be interested in the story behind these news reports can drop me a OOC PM. IC reactions to the news stories can be added to this thread. Thanks to @Rhino for the design work on these stories ))

NEW INQUIRER, SATURDAY, APRIL 19

BUKU IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS!
International Exclusive by Gene Ericson

DANGEROUS dictator General Buku is in possession of advanced weaponry as tensions between his forces and Vanguard on the Liberty Islands grow, the Inquirer can reveal today.
There has been a growing unease between Buku’s regime and the Vanguard outpost sited there as part of the efforts to protect earth from the Rikti invaders.
And the news that Buku is now in possession of these weapons is feared to be the spark needed to ignite the powder keg.
A reliable source has leaked information about the weapons deal, which is believed to involve a manufacturing company, based in the Etoile Isles or even Paragon City.
The weapons are believed to be in advance of those possessed by Vanguard themselves. The shipment includes anti-personal weaponry designed specifically to combat metahumans, as well as fliers, “heavies”, missile launchers and superior assault weapons.
Retired General Mason Mayflower III, a veteran of the first Rikti War, said: “If this information is true, Buku has enough firepower to start a war and certainly enough to take on the small Vanguard base on those islands. And it’s the islands that is his best weapon as their location and geography mean he could hold out against a superior force for a long time with just a fraction of the weapons he is believed to have.”
Ominous rumblings have also been felt from one of the islands two volcanoes Piton des Enfer, one of the world’s most active, adding the tension.
Vanguard is reported to be nervous following the revelation. However, they have they issued a statement aimed at calming the brewing storm.
The Liberty Islands base commander, Sebastian Adebisi, said: “Vanguard have had a presence on Liberty Islands for many years since the first Rikti War. We have enjoyed cooperation and friendship with the local people and have the utmost respect for General Buku who has shown himself to be most knowledgeable about the threat posed to our planet by the Rikti.”
But how long will this cooperation and friendship last? The world holds its breath and waits.

NEW INQUIRER WEBSITE, MONDAY, APRIL 21

FREEDOMFIGHTERS CALL FOR RESTRAINT AS VANGUARD ATTACKED!
International Exclusive by Gene Ericson

A BLOCKADE has been set up around the Liberty Islands Vanguard base after hostilities broke out with General Buku’s regime.
As reported earlier this week, Buku received shipment of a large quantity of advanced weaponry.
And in recent days that weaponry has been turned on the brave defenders of our planet.
Buku has expelled all media from the Liberty Islands, but the Inquirer has received reports of a Vanguard helicopter being shot from the sky over the Indian Ocean. There are also unconfirmed reports that a unit of six Vanguard operatives are being held in the islands’ capital Liberty City.
Long range scans reveal that a blockade of fliers marked with the Liberty Island’s yellow fish eagle symbol has been established around the Vanguard base on Black Rock Island. All attempts at communication have been jammed.
Vanguard has yet to issue a statement and it is believed there is a reluctance to spark an international incident if there is any chance of a diplomatic solution.
Disturbing reports before the media blackout suggested a rapid plan to boost the islands fortunes with Buku pushing through plans for munitions factories, military bases, research labs, geothermal plants and temples dedicated to the Islands resurgent spiritual faith.
Meanwhile, the Inquirer has obtained an exclusive message from Hatem Nasri and his daughter Rashme of the United Freedom Coalition (UFC).
It reads: “The United Freedom Coalition in no way condone the recent actions by General Buku against our friends and protectors Vanguard. Although the situation is regrettable, we urge Vanguard and the rest of the world to show restraint. A dwindling minority supports Buku and any show of force could be devastating to the simple, peace loving people of our islands.
“Please help us resolve this crisis through peaceful means and assist out nation in becoming a worthy part of the international community.”
Hatem Nasri, 58, is a former captain in Buku’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) who established the UFC as the Islands’ only viable opposition party.
He and his daughter, Rashme, 30, have become figureheads of the growing movement to finally bring freedom and democracy to the troubled island nation.

Nadja Romanov
East shore, Sharkshead Island – Then

8.31am

Nadja approached the Wolf Spiders and looked down into the temple chamber. In the centre about a down robed figures were chanting and bowing towards…the Eye! There it was, eight perfect jet black spheres the size of baseballs seamless fused together. It was hovering within a green, glowing mist at the heart of an ornately carved stone altar.

Nadja concealed her excitement, a crocodile beneath calm water. “So, Operative Bojan, here we are. What now?”

Bojan turned to Nadja “Tell me, Ms Romanov, was the way you brought us the fastest way to this chamber.”

“Yes,” said Nadja. “Well, unless discretion wasn’t a factor and you had the means to blast through several hundred feet of solid rock.”

The Crab Spider woman nodded. “As I thought. Then we wait and watch the show.”

As she finishes speaking, the roof of the temple chamber exploded. Twenty Longbow agents descended on lines. A large red, white and grey figure dropped to the ground after them. It was a werewolf, about ten feet tall and almost as broad in the uniform of a Longbow commander.

Nadja looked to Operative Bojan.

“That’s Commander Stonefang,” said Bojan. “He’s been a thorn in Arbiter Krieger’s side for three years now. We’ve lost many good men to him. He appears out of nowhere, hits hard then disappears. And the myth of him has become more than the reality. Just mention of his name is enough to turn the moral of even the best trained unit. But no more.” She turned to one of the Wolf Spiders. “Give me the gun.”

The Wolf Spider handed her a high-powered rifle.

Nadja shook her head. “Then let me go. You have what you want, I didn’t sign on to murder a Longbow Commander.”

Bojan smiled. “You signed on to Arachnos, Ms Romanov. Everything else is just details. Now please be quiet.”

Two Wolf Spiders gripped Nadja’s arms. “Do you really think a rifle is going to take down a werewolf? I’ve seen them endure much worse in my father’s research facilities. You’ll just make him mad then he’ll turn that rage and his teeth and claws on us.”

Bojan patted the rifle. “Silver bullet made from a smelted candlestick stolen from the Vatican. Add a few inscriptions that I won’t claim to understand and you have yourself a guaranteed werewolf killer or your money back."

She fired. The sound of the shot echoed around the cavernous temple.

A puff of red appeared above the werewolf’s head. He fell to the ground. The large bulk slowly shrank into the form of a man.

“But how did you know he’d come?” asked Nadja.

“You’re the expert on the Eye,” said Bojan. “You tell me.”

Nadja thought back to what little records there were about the relic. “The Anasazi tribe were decimated by a tribe from the north they called the Changing Ones. The quote was…’And they looked upon them with the Eye and they were no more than men.’ He wanted the Eye to lift the curse? But that would have given you what...but you needed to kill the myth too.”

“It's dead now,” said Bojan flatly. “Now, those Longbow are about three seconds from working out where the shot that killed they hirsute leader came from. Let’s move out.”

“No,” said Nadja. “I’m not getting this close to leave without the Eye now.”

Bojan smiled. “Then you do it alone, Ms Romanov. I will tell Arbiter Krieger you elected to stay behind.”

“You do that,” said Nadja. “I think I rate my survival chances more with the Longbow and Circle than you anyway.”

“Perceptive,” replied Bojan before leading her team back the way they’d come.