At this point I had got up off the it was a little harder than it should have been didn' t realize just how bad I was at that point but kept going. Hammer and Seraph were peppering the vamp with holywater rounds but it was having a far reduced effect than we had seen sofar with the other vamps, Bert was fireing at it also but with even less effect other than per haps annoy it. Bert explains the situation and his plan to me, I say to him "Good plan but I think we can do better." I explain that Seraph is a FireWalker and that each of us had a few rocksalt loaded shotshells on us, His response was "Oh that should work! " I loan him my paintball gun because it would at least do something to help keep the Vamp off Balance. I start reloading my shotgun with the salt shells and inform my team of the plan I get the OK from both of them and we start ,I lead off by nailing Mr. Tux twice with the rocksalt with surpringly good results, Seraph tagged him with a hefty blast of flame and Hammer was still loading his own salt shells when Celeste showed stating "The Strigoi Is mine!" At the time noone was going to argue with her.

KonThaak wrote:It was a simple plan on his part....

I see. The "little force" was referring to the team guarding your house.

“Ron was right, you know,” I acceded to his previous statement, letting my anger settle into my limbs.

Strigoi, angry and in pain at the severing of the tube, didn’t reply. I leaped into his chest and knocked him to the floor, straddling him quickly. I raised the dagger overhead with both hands, and then plunged it to the bone hilt into his heart.

“AIN’T NUTHIN’ THAT CAN’T DIE!”

Best. Passage. Ever.

Celeste Darken wrote:"AIN’T NUTHIN’ THAT CAN’T DIE!”

I heartily endorse this product or service.

Man, it's almost 5 in the evening, and I'm just now taking my lunchbreak...

Drove by this house, today. The police tape's still up. But that's getting ahead of myself...

***

The fight was hard to follow for me at the time, for reasons I've already mentionned. I do know that in the end, the superior strength of the bull overcame that of the bear... I was on top of him, pounding into his chest with my hooves, and he was kick-slashing my exposed (to him) gut and chest with his legs. We were both wearing down each others' armors, and doing it fast.

Finally, we managed to crash through the floor; the hard landing on the living room floor did both of our armors in, and we both felt and heard bones snapping in each others' bodies.

We both transformed back, lying in pain on the ground, and we both quickly started casting healing spells on ourselves...and we were both momentarily stunned by the intense pain of feeling our bones grind back into place and start mending.

I recovered first, and in two moments, Claw was in hand and at his throat.

It was about this time that we both noticed the rest of the room; my side were victorious, and the rest of the room was singed, and had pieces of zombie, flesh golem, and vampires strewn about.

Elliot (the dark druid) bolted, diving out the window, and I was right behind him. He had his crimson blade ready again by the time I caught up to him, and we started fighting again... He was a damned good fighter. If it weren't for Claw, he would've had me beat...

(I'll post the exciting conclusion tonight when I get home. Lunch break's over. Maybe someday my wife and I'll have enough money to where I can start eating on my lunch breaks again...)

Celeste Darken wrote:I remembered enough of my brothers playing D&D to guess that they were probably the druids in “combat” form.

Heh, close, but not quite. It's been quite a few years since I played D&D, but as I recall, they were fanatical (and sometimes very dangerous) protectors of the wilderness, they were at a great disadvantage in towns, and they had practically no limitations on their animal shapeshifting.

But like I said, I haven't played in a while, so I could be wrong. I'd love to get back into some kind of rp group again...

...

Hell, I'd settle for online gaming.

Anyway...

***

So the two of us were fighting, and inside, I guess Shadow's team was cleaning the place, while Bert, Celeste, and Adama (?) had come out to watch my back, so to speak.

Claw saw an opportunity, and made a move, slashing through the guy's sword-arm, cutting it off about halfway down his forearm. He didn't scream; he barely winced and gritted his teeth.

He grabbed Claw's blade in his remaining hand and brought it to his throat. "I told you one of us would be dying today," he said, smiling grimly, as he plunged the blade into his own neck.

I stared, in shock, as he twitched, choked, and jerked at the end of my blade as he died... We all heard the sound of a motorcycle firing up, and saw a single headlight flare from the half-open garage door. Those of us who were capable felt the vampiric presence as he peeled rubber... The vamp shot through the garage door, and as he reached for Elliot's corpse, time seemed to slow to a standstill, and I heard--hell, maybe everyone heard--a voice in my head...

Hold no grudges. I'm simply doing what I'm being paid to do... His secret is still active in the basement.

His gloved hand closed around Elliot's neck, and with the ceremony, grace, and caring of a rabid dog, jerked him from my blade, and sped down the road, doing a good 50 or 60 by the time he hit the end of the driveway.

Celeste made to follow him, but I stopped her... "Basement. I may still need your help..." She looked as pleased with that as could be expected.

The lot of us piled down into the basement, where we found 6 dogs, still caged, growling and snapping at a number of ghouls who were feasting on the remains of quite a few other dogs... They'd all had ID's; those of which had addresses revealed that they'd been dogs from the area.

In the middle of the room was a gateway; it looked like someone had taken reality and ripped a hole in it, and the ghouls were getting in through that hole...

The room had more runes and scribblings on it, apparently keeping the gate closed, and with Elliot now dead, the ghouls had no reason to be hostile, anymore. They became their usual cowardly selves, and started fleeing; some of them fled right back through the gateway.

We destroyed the symbols and circles, and closed the gate. After I studied the remains of the ritual upstairs, I realized that it had been designed to channel and focus energy down here, to power the gate, and open it wider and wider. If we'd left it all unchecked, by Samhuin/Halloween eve, I doubt we could've gotten it closed as easily as we did.

Happy Samhuin, world. Happy Halloween, Chicagoland.

Afterwards, we got back in the van and went back to my place...

EDIT: Forgot to mention; the place was north of Crystal Lake, out in the sticks, and the nearest neighbor was some half a mile or so away, so the gunshots had most likely gone completely unnoticed this whole time...so, after Shadow's team had cleaned off our fingerprints and as much evidence as they could, we called the cops.

I still wish you'd have let me Demo the place.

So, are we forgetting to mention anything? Mr. Tux, Dark Druid, Frankenfugly, Ghouls, Dogs, I don't think we forgot to retell anything.

Only if you want to list off the injurys suffered as a result of the nights fun, I don't think any one got away scott free on this with the excption of the members of my team who were on guard duty at KT's house ,thou I for one am not complaining, because the only reson they should have had to deal with anything was if we screwed up or just plain failed luckily that didn't happen.

Well, lessee...

I ended up with a some nasty cuts and scrapes. Ended up with a hairline fracture of my wrist. KT patched me up. I was concerned after taking a header into the wall but I guess my helmet took the brunt of it.

Call it the stronger of two paranoias speaking in my head. Gunshots wouldn't've been noticed by the neighbor at that time of night, but blowing the house up would've been, and--count on it--someone would've seen us, reported us, and there would've been trouble.

Not to mention that now the cops will know that Elliot Windner was into some "freaky shit", and they won't know he's dead for a while. By the time they find the corpse (if ever), it'll be far too late for a coroner's autopsy to give them any valuable information about his killers--namely, me.

The entire idea behind this was to get me and my family out of trouble, at all costs. Which was done.

To everyone involved, I thank you deeply. To everyone who offered but couldn't help out, I thank you guys just as much. And to those who nearly died, I'm sorry, again, and thank you ten times more...

***

EDIT: Also, as for everyone's injuries...between my initial armor spells and my healing magics later that night, we came out of the ordeal pretty unscathed.

***

We got back to my place. I invited most everyone in, and, after mentally conferring with Cubrious and Claw, invited Celeste in as well.

It was nearly 2AM by that point, so Adama had to get going soon for work, but the rest of us hung out, listenned to music, watched some anime, and talked about pretty much anything except what we'd just gone through.

In the morning, I downed enough caffeine to kill a horse, and left for work. Bert and Shadow's team left for home, and Celeste just left. She got to meet the baby she helped save, and my wife as well...

With the baby in the house, I still haven't caught up from the lack of sleep.

But at least the baby's in the house.

I'd volunteer to babysit except: I'm back in NJ and the closest home I have out there is a bunker filled with weapons and ammunition and it'd take me a few years to baby proof it.

My team and I have set up operations in the area and will be sticking around for a little longer, I have a hinky feeling things my not be done yet but wouldn't mind being proved wrong thou.

Celeste Darken wrote:"AIN'T NUTHIN' THAT CAN'T DIE!"

Damn straight.

KonThaak wrote:"I told you one of us would be dying today," he said, smiling grimly, as he plunged the blade into his own neck.

WTF?

KT, you fought the dude, you're more familiar with his belief system: why would he off himself when he had Evil Knievel waiting in the wings to pull his ass out of the fire?

...Not to mention that now the cops will know that Elliot Windner was into some "freaky shit", and they won't know he's dead for a while.

Since a telepathic dead guy stole the body, the Society won't know he's dead for a while, either.

Willie Long wrote:

Celeste Darken wrote:WTF?

KT, you fought the dude, you're more familiar with his belief system: why would he off himself when he had Evil Knievel waiting in the wings to pull his ass out of the fire?

Honestly...I don't know. A lot of druids believe in reincarnation, but a reincarnation that involves something called Otherworld... Basically, when you die here, you're born there. There are a few things that could stop that process, but no matter what, when you're dead, you're dead.

Of course, being a dark druid dealing as deeply in necromancy as he was, maybe he had something set up to bring him back... There was the Demon Fist, too. Seemed like they had a lot of necromancers lying in the wings...so to speak.

But honestly, it had nothing to do with our belief system. I swear. So don't worry, I'm not gonna turn all suicidal maniac on anyone...

Since a telepathic dead guy stole the body, the Society won't know he's dead for a while, either.

You have a good point, due to things I mentioned just now.

I think it can be broken down pretty simply.


He knew one of you were going to die.

He knew it could be him.

He had a contingency plan.

We have no idea whether he's dead or alive or if he is dead whether he'll be staying dead or what. But something tells me to expect hsi return.

Ron Caliburn wrote:Heck I've been clinically dead once, didn't do me any lasting harm.

Do tell. I'm clinically dead, too. But I should give my final view on the matter of "Devils Night Mayhem." Or at least, I wish it was the end. Now only time will tell . . .



I knew the Strigoi wasn’t dead yet; but I was fine with it being in a coma for now. That flaming golem would do nicely. Now where . . .

The heat of its flaming body was suddenly too near. In the euphoria of the moment of beating the Strigoi, I hadn’t been paying attention to the temperature of my surroundings. I twisted just in time to see the pillar of flesh towering over me, its arms upraised in a position to slam me through the floor. I was weak and injured from both torture and battle; there was no room to maneuver. I leaped to get free of the Strigoi, but I was still directly in the path of the creature’s swing . . . .

Then it went tumbling to the side, a wave of gusting wind smashing into its flank. I looked over to the source of the magic; Adama Geist stood near, his hands fuming with the last sparkles of magic needed to release the spell. His eyes were dark and vicious in the heat of battle. He poised himself for the fight as the golem came on, its attention distracted from me.

But with that distraction, I jumped free and jump kicked it in its sutured ribs. But the strike was a weak one, and it merely jerked away. I stalked nearer to AdamaGeist; he was just as eager to beat the thing as I was.

“Don’t remove the flames,” I warned him. “I’ll need it to consume the vampire.” He nodded when I gestured to the immobile Strigoi, though with a strange look in his eyes.

The scenery was starting to swim for my own. The heat was coming and going as though a malicious child was opening and shutting a sealed furnace oven. When I batted the side of my temple lightly and shook my head, everything came into focus.

There had been no fire. The heat was real, courtesy of Adama’s spell. And the golem, his torso weaving unsteadily because of the broken back, was untouched by fire. I looked at the blood-red weal of holy symbols across my wrists and blamed them for my delusion. But a vampire’s defenses are strong, physically, mentally, and magically. The marks were starting to fade, and with so were the strange sense hallucinations. I saw the opportunity to strike come while the stitched beast was lumbering nearer. With a motion to Adama that conveyed a near-psionic communication, I dove between the flesh giant’s legs, dodging his ponderous movement easily and getting to my feet behind him.

I skidded by a large man’s side—Hammer, I think it was—and asked for his gun; I could smell the rocksalt from the barrel. He handed it over willingly, the ghouls themselves nearly done.

“Let there be fire,” I said to myself as Adama went through a quick ritual.

He finished his spell right as the golem had grasped his shoulders. It looked like a plume of flame and lightning combined, razing across his glowing hands and striking the creature straight in the chest. It sailed backward, but I was there to slam its momentum in the reverse direction. Adama stepped to the side, pulling at a large, leather bag and coming out with a handful of salt. He raised his palm to his lips and blew, and the cloud danced over the stitched corpse. The flames exploded into motion, licking at the creature with more intensity than gasoline. I knew I wasn’t seeing things, because everyone else stopped to look, too.

I shoved the golem near the comatose Strigoi and braced the barrel of Hammer’s shotgun against the bloodsucker’s cheek and emptied the gun. With the dagger keeping him docile, the wounds inflicted by the rocksalt and my tripping the burning golem on top of him, I seriously doubt this Strigoi was going to survive. And just to make sure, I pinned the golem down on top of the vampire and let them burn each other to ashes. I was able to toss Hammer’s gun aside before any fire touched it.

But I must apologize to Bert for losing a very unique dagger.

The ghouls were all but beat. The Strigoi and the golem were no more; I thought we had won.

But then the ceiling came crashing down, the druids still in full-sized bull and bear form. Injuries scored their bodies like freckles on a redhead. I paused in my efforts to discern the identities of the animals. And then I decided to be a spectator.

This was Konthaak’s fight. The transformation back into men was swift and painful looking. Konthaak recovered first, the ornamental sword in his hands, at the dark druid’s throat. But the dark druid was swift; with a twist that barely left a line of red on his neck, he rolled to his feet and fled through the window. Konthaak was right at his heels, and I swear Claw was glowing, eager for this charlatan’s death. It was the druids’ fight, I reminded myself.

But then I thought, to blazes with the druid fight! I was going to be there to witness Konthaak’s victory or avenge his death. Bert and Adama followed me out the window to view the climax.

We were all stunned when the druid committed seppuku. But no one was more surprised than me when the vampire showed. He issued his message mentally . . . and an added challenge for me to boot. This was a vampire that was no mere pawn. I would have followed, but Konthaak reminded me of more important matters. Besides, I was injured and weak, and this other vampire was not.

But he and I have a score to settle.

But in the meantime, I was invited graciously into Konthaak’s home; his wife treated me courteously, and I even “mingled” with the others, as best as I was able. I was shown the baby, though I would not pick him up even if they had urged me to.

So now, I train . . . because somewhere out there is a vampire with more cunning than anything I had come across. I don’t know the extent of his powers, I was too surprised to direct my psionic attention that way. But his power isn’t the point; guided by genius, he will be a threat no matter what. To think he is a mere pawn is foolishness. Is he paid? That doesn’t mean he answers to a master. And if he says he answers to a master . . . that master better watch his back.

Bloodbane wrote:There's a demon who uses vampires as playthings, not very much unlike the late Mr. Windner.

. . . this cat meat or spirit, Jack?

Bloodbane wrote:A stake of silver, hollowed out, but filled with a few ingredients... Pure water, blessed by a pure soul... At least three drops of blood from a holy man... Dust from the bones of a corpse, buried in sanctified soil.

That's cake. I know a gunsmith that could whip up that cocktail for you. What can this thing do? Sucka gotta name?

A name on this Big bad would be nice and maybe a little more info as well.

...?

So why wouldn't we help you...? If you can locate someone like that, why wouldn't we go after him, too?

...That's an interesting set of ingredients. "Pure water blessed by a pure soul"? Are you talking about a child? And how are we supposed to obtain said bones? That would involve desecrating a grave... Are you sure Elliot didn't lie to you just to get your help?

I could provide the more mundane materials you need within 24hrs if you’d like. As well as the drops of blood from a holy man, don’t worry he was perfectly willing to give, we had a blood drive in the Vatican last year.

I would also like to help you kill this beast. When you decide to move you have but to give word and I myself shall stand by your side. Perhaps then my loyalty shall be proved.

Bloodbane wrote:All I can say, Celeste, is you give me far too much and too little credit...and I do apologize for my exact wording to you on that night. I had believed you to be one of the vampires that fool had "hired". For myself, I will say this: I am not a vampire. What I am is not important.

Apology accepted. I would have answered this thread sooner, but . . . I have had much to think on. So, you are not a vampire, yet you smell like one. I will not dwell on the matter. As you said, what you are is not important. And I will add, it's not who you are that matters, but what you do. And like Fate, I will reserve judgment until a later date. In the meantime, good luck in your endeavors.