THE SIEGE OF POWTANVILLE
Author's Note: I own nothing and Noone, save myself. Powtanville, Arizona does not exist to the best of my knowledge. But I don't know much about US cities, so it was easier to make one up than to research one.
Also, I have no intention of transcribing accents. So I'll just say this: Bubba speaks with a Southern Drawl.
The Magnificent Seven rode out of Dallas, satisfied that their job was done.
Janus liked that. It sounded very much like a line in a good western, something by Lois L'Amour. Timeless. It conjured images of rugged heroes, emerging triumphant from a pitched battle, riding into the sunset on noble steeds. Of good triumphing over evil, which was rare in this sad sorry world. Janus liked those storires, because they were so different from reality.
The reality was that the Magnificent Seven were a pack of vampires in the service of the Sabbat. They rode out of Dallas, not into the sunset (which would, of course, have been the Final Death of them) but into the night. They rode noble steeds, but their names weren't Silver, Bullet, Spirit, or anything like that. Their names were Harley, Kawasaki, Honda, and BMW. The pitched battle between Good and Evil had indeed occurred, but they had guaranteed the win for Evil, or at least denied it to Good. They had just finished slaughtering a group of Inquisitors belonging to the ever-righteous Order of Saint Gregory. An object lesson, the Sabbat bishop of Dallas had called it, on the wisdom of minding your own business. The Inquisitors, unprepared for the Seven's brutal attacks, were easily killed, True Faith or no.
As for the part about rugged heroes…well, maybe. They were 'rugged' no question about that. In fact, 'ragged' might better apply to some of them. Heroes? Janus thought so. Unlike most members of theirSect, the Seven did not view the Kine as just a bunch of food animals. Consequently, when possible, they preferred to minimize bystander casualties. They would kill the Kine when it was necessary, bt otherwise, would leave them alone. The pack-leader was under no illusions that that made them angels.
But the overall purpose of the Sabbat was to exterminate the Antedeluvians and their puppets in the Camarilla before the Elders arose to devour the world, Kindred and Kine alike. In that light, the Seven were mighty heroes indeed, having killed one Elder on their own. Not an Antedeluvian, to be sure, but a 5th generation Cainite was hardly easy prey. Though trapped in the body of a decrepit old man, the Ancient had displayed powers beyond any of the Seven's experiences. The Tzimisce shivered briefly, in remembrane of what that monster had been capable of.
The Seven was an old pack, older than any of its members. It predated the Western movie and Akira Kurosawa's masterpiece, both of the same name. Janus believed it had been formed in the 1840's, with his sire as one of the original members. As old members were killed in battle, new ones were recruited, but they were never more than 7. No member of the Seven ever died except in battle. No assasinations, no executions, no accidents, and no duels. In the ever ruthless world of Sabbat politics, that was quite an achievement.
This last job had been a 'downer', what the Sabbat leaders in North America used to relax elite packs. Such packs were ALWAYS busy, so easy jobs were as close as the Seven ever came to a genuine vacation. This was the third such job in a row, and had taken less than a week. Janus had therefore told his superiors, via messengers, that the Seven were ready for a REAL challenge.
Janus looked at his companions, gauging the status of each. As he looked, he mentally reviewed their strenghs, weaknesses, abilities and deficiencies.
At his right rode his second-in-command Jeff Blune. Jeff was Ventrue antitribu, and shared his parent Clan's fastidious nature. Jeff fed only on mortals who had black hair, and never went anywhere in clothes that cost less than 200. On the other hand, he was a killing machine with an uzi in either hand, and was above average in the use of a machete. He was also much stronger than he'd been four months ago, following the battle with the Ancient. Jeff had been the one to strike the decisive blow, and, following the pack's traditions, had diablerized the old bastard. His Generation had shot from 13 to 8 or more, making him potentially the most powerfull one here. Luckily, infighting within the pack was unheard of. He had mastered the Disciplines of Auspex, Presence, and, in a move unusual for one of his Clan, had a fair knowledge of Celerity. Though generally reliable, his recent Generation jump had made Jeff a bit cocky, prone to rashness. Janus made a mental note to have a talk with Jeff about that before the next job.
To his left rode Tariq Al'Akim and Jessy Quinn. Tariq was an Assamite, a specialist in assasinations. His prefered weapon was the twin short swords he had carried for seventy years. He was also adept with his bare hands, a master of Karate, Cappoiera, Shaolin Kung-fu, and Savate kickboxing. His use of firearms was rare, and usually confined to a pistol. He was 9th generation, same as Janus, but had sworn not to raise his generation by consuming his packmates. This was a common concern for any group containing an Assamite. His Disciplines were Quietus, Celerity, and Obfuscate. He was the pack's assassin, and he loved his job. Almost as much as he loved Jessy.
For all of him, Janus couldn't see the appeal. Jessy was smart, funny, charming, and had a strangely disarming friendliness. She was also Nosferatu, of the 10th Generation, which meant she looked like a two month old corpse left in the sun, and smelled little better. She had little in the way of combat skills, being a merely average shot with her combat shotgun, and fairly useless close up. But then, as a spy, she rarely needed to fight. Her disciplines wer Fortitude (she had demonstrated the ability to ignore hits from a .45 at close range), Obfuscation, and Animalism (she talked to rats). In addition, she was an expert researcher, and an experienced Hacker. Once in a city, their was very little Jessy couldn't find out given time. Her Blood Bond to Tariq meant that they worked well together, coordinating assasinations of targets everyone else believed untouchable. At the moment, she was leaning forward and whispering something in his ear. All Janus could catch was "…gonna tie you to the bedposts, tear off your clothes and…", before he quickly stopped listening. He did NOT need that image in his head!
Behind him, on an elegant black Kawasaki, was Veronique DuMars, a LaSombra of the 11th Generation. She was black, of New Orleans stock, and beautiful. Once, there had been a great deal of tension between them, over his leading the Magnificent Seven. She had pointed out that LaSomhra were usually the leaders of Sabbat packs, and that all of its previous leaders had been LaSombra. He had nodded politely, than asked her to step outside. When she stopped bleeding, and had healed her arm, she submitted. The forms had been followed, his dominance established. Still, sometimes he felt uneasy around her, as though he were being judged.
Other than that, no complaints. Like most LaSombra, she had studied the Clan's signature Discipline of Obtenebration, as well as Presence and Potence. She was mainly a social liaison for the pack, but was handy with a pistol, and good with knives. Her knowledge of Languages (English French, Russian, German, and Spanish) and social protocal had proved great assets.
Finally, there was Bubba Rockwell and Simon. They rode together, not because they liked one another (though they usually did), but because Bubba was the only one capable of restraining the deranged Simon.
Bubba, as his name suggested, was a Southerner, a Panders of the 13th Generation, and the youngest in the pack. He seemed determined to make up for this by being the deadliest thing on two legs. He habitually carried an AK-47, a .357 Magnum, a hand-axe, and a silver knife which he'd once used to kill a Lupine. Its white fur was now padding his motorcycle's seat. He was a combat machine, and a demolitions expert, who had somehow overcome the traditional Kindred fear of fire enough to use firebombs to great effect. His disciplines were Celerity, Potence, and Fortitude. He was a six foot four, two hundred pound mass of muscle.
Bubba's weakness was that he was a long way from a genious. His IQ tested out at 90, just under average. Consequently, instructions had to be explained to him carefully, sometimes twice, before he could safely be trusted to accomplish a task. Right now, his task was 'keep Simon out of trouble', which he had decided to do by chaining the other vampire his sidecar.
Simon was the pack priest. He was responsible for all the Sabbat rituals, as well as the Vaulderie. He was a small, slight figure. About five foot five, and 100 poundsm with long white hair that could never stay under control for more than a minute.He was average in combat, using a sawed off shotgun and a set of throwing knives. His disciplines were Auspex, Dementation and Dominate. His weakness was his clan. Simon was Malkavian, and his dementia was extreme, sporadic paranoia. Basically, he could freak out at any time over anything, convinced that someone or something represented a grave threat to him. So for this journey, he had to be restrained.
Right now Simon was in chains, as he usually was, when travelling. He was also pissed at Bubba, also not unusual.
"Let me go, RIGHT NOW, you pig-fucking hayseed! I'm not going anywhere and you damn well know it! LET ME OUT!"
"Now, Simon, you know I can't do that. Janus told me to keep you outta trouble so that's what I figure I'll do"
Janus smiled slightly. Simon should know by now that it was futile to try to argue with Bubba's orders. Too dim to really think for himself, Bubba took comfort in obeying orders to the letter. That did not stop the Malavian, who apparently planned to rant, rave, and curse at Bubba all the way to their destination. Let him, it'll be good for him to blow off some steam.
And then there was him. Janus Zapolski. Tzimisce of the 9th Generation, sired 85 years before by a very potent Cainite who'd thought the young Commosol AN: a Communist Youth Group in the USSR 'interesting'. A master of Viscitude, Celerity and Animalism. He carried his usual broadsword, with which he was very proficient. He also had a Desert Eagle, with which he had once boasted, he could perform surgery at ten paces. His clothes were the same as the rest of the Seven: Leather Duster (black in his case), shirt, leather pants (later to change for jeans when not on his Harley), steel-toed boots. Unlike most Tzimisce, Janus still looked human; a tall, blonde human with short hair spiked straight up. He knew his strengths, and acknowledged no serious weaknesses. His side bags were full of dirt from his native city of Rostov, and he was ready to go.
Following behind them in a bigrig were the Seven's ghouls. Most were normal humans, addicted to Kindred vitae, mainly Janus' (his blood being unusually addictive). TheSeven had chosen only those humans who were extremely well trained in combat, and showed just the right amount of initiative. Two however were . Warghouls. Twisted giants, composed of multiple humans, with weapons built into their arms. They were Janus' creations, and they had proved very usefull in the past. At need, he could always make more.
The Big Rig not only stored the Warghouls, but served as a makeshift Haven while the pack traveled. Its trailer was thirty feet long and six feet wide, allowing the Seven and their bikes to rest their during the day.
This would be a long trip, through Lupine country (which was basically everything outside the cities), and the Seven had not survived more than a hundred and thirty years through stupidity. They had to keep moving, though. They were on deadline. The Magnificent Seven had been ordered to a small town in Arizona, to receive further orders. This was the first time in decades that orders had been deemed too sensitive to be sent directly via messenger, or left in some sort of code in a known spot.
Whatever's coming, its gonna be big.
PART 2
They were greeted, three nights later, by no less august a person than the Cardinal of the South-Western United States himself, Zumarraga. Zumarraga was Tzimisce, and hence was fairly distinctive. For one thing, he was six foot nine, towering over even Bubba. He had a malformed head, with ridges on the forehead. His skin was pink, like gum, and his hands were talons. When he opened his mouth to greet them, Janus noticed he had a long black tongue. Janus was impressed. While he chose to look human for stealth purposes (save for his Zola form), he could appreciate the artistry inherent in the Cardinal's appearance. As they pulled up, he looked for a long time at the Garou pelt on Bubba's bike.
The Cardinal was accompanied by two Templars of indeterminate Clan. They were however, extremely burly and armed to the teeth.
"Ahh, the Magnificent Seven! I knew your predecessors well, and may I say you do them credit. Although you do seem to take inordinate precautions regarding the safety of mortals."
Jeff was the one to answer "We prefer to focus on exterminating the Elders for the time being. Once our collective asses are out of fire, then we can worry about how best to treat the humans" Jeff cursed himself for not explicitly telling Jeff to be cautious in adressing the Cardinal. Fortunately, the older Tzimisce just laughed, with no trace of artifice.
"True, true, young Ventrue. And you are so VERY good at that aren't you? Good. We have a rather…delicate mission for you" he was now looking directly at Janus "Please, come see me at my manse in Phoenix. All will be made clear tommorow night" and with that he and his Templars walked away. A limosine pulled up to get them
"What the FUCK! We haul ass all the way from Texas to this little shithole just so he can tell us to come see him somewhere else? Who does he think he is?" Jessy exclaimed. She and Bubba were young, and didn't truly understand the dangers of speaking ones mind about some things. Plus, she had a quick temper.
"He THINKS he is the most powerful Cardinal in the Southern United States" Tariq answered coldly. In a different tone of voice (almost a plea) he continues "Please, my love, do nothing to antagonize him. I could not live if you were to…to…". The assassin trailed off, unable even to voice the word 'die'.
Jessy softened immediately "Ok, Tarry, I'll be a good girl for now. But you have to promise you'll 'tarry' with me later, and help me be a bad girl". This was said with a smile that showed yellow teeth and immense fangs, and a red tongue licking rubbery lips. Tariq, merciless killer and vampire, immediately went from looking despondent and worried to uncomfortable and yet very happy. If he were human Janus thought I honestly think he'd be blushing
A hard nights traveling took them to the borders of Phoenix. They found a delapidated bar, that had been long ago abandoned by its owners, and was now a biker gang headquarters. After consuming the previous occupants.and boarding up the windows, the Seven went to sleep for the day. Janus slept on the pool table, Veronique on the bar, while Bubba and Simon slept on the floor, handcuffed together (Simon being an early riser). Tariq and Jessy had taken the managers room, and asked for an hour of privacy before they left.
"After all" Jessy had said, coquettishly winking one stye-ridden eye, "Tarry here has to learn the value of keeping ones promises". Tarriq just grinned, sheepishly and a little gloatingly. Janus decided to leave it at that for his own peace of mind, and the stability of his stomach. He knew they were PROBABLY only sharing blood, but he couldn't help thinking of rumors he'd heard over the years. About Kindred who had actually managed to have sex post-Embrace. He felt quasy thinking of those two doing…that.
When night fell, the pack spent the promised hour reviewing the facts:
The Cardinal has a serious problem, one he feels cannot be handled by any of the packs he controls
Our specialty is killing Elders, so it seems likely that an Elder is involved
His problem is obviously VERY severe, since we are a pack controlled only by the Sabbat Leadership.
The Black Hand has NOT been called in (This was due to Jessy's snooping en route via the cities rats)
Not a pretty picture. An Elder, likely very powerful, was on the loose somewhere in the Cardinal's desmenes. For some reason, he felt the need to put himself deeply in debt to others to get them sent here, and yet he had not contacted the most feared force within the Sabbat, the Black Hand. Not good.
One hour after sunset, to the minute, the manager's door opened. Out stepped Jessy, looking very…satisfied. Tarriq followed, wearing the biggest smile anyone had ever seen the Arabic man wear. Everyone else looked uncomfortable and/or slightly ill. Apparently, Janus wasn't the only one to not want to think about a Nosferatu getting physical.
Simon broke the silence with his usual lack of tact "Well, now that you two have gotten your rocks off and turned our stomachs, can we get going? I, for one, don't want to be anywhere near this place anymore. Those two have defiled it with their horizontal mamboing."
"Why you crazy little-" Jessy began, stalking towards the Malkavian, when her lover put a restraining hand on her shoulder, and said quietly.
"He is not worth it. Jessica. Leave it be."
"Fine." She sighed. Simon smirked.
"Damn right. Bubba, I gotta apologize for what I said on the road. You know…"
"I know Simon, don't worry. You just don't like being chained. But sometimes its gotta be done." The big man spoke slowly, and with a great degree of patience. He and Simon were actually fairly close, which was why Bubba was usually chosen to restrain the mad priest.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hey, boss-man, we got time for the Vaulderie?"
Janus spoke for the first time that night "I doubt it. Protocol dictates that the guest arrive exactly on time. Which brings me to my next point: This will be the first time any of you've been invited into a Tzimisce's Haven. This is extremely important to us, and I can't teach you all the rules of ettiquette, so just keep quiet, do as I do, and whatever you do DON'T talk business until he does. He WILL kill you, instantly, and he'll be right to do it. Now let's go."
They mounted their bikes and left the ghouls to guard the place. One of the men had gone on a food run, and returned with pizzas, drinks, and snacks, so they could be left for a prolonged period. They rode into Phoenix.
The Cardinal's 'manse' was an enourmous abandoed mansion AN: Think the Cryptkeepers house in 'Tales from the Crypt' the live action show. The gates were rusted and squeaky, the windows in the house cracked and some were partly broken. Nevertheless, security was clearly tight. Guards were everywhere, Kindred and ghoul alike. Packs of creatures that might once have been dogs roamed the grounds, a testament to the power of the Tzimisce art of Fleshcrafting. They were half as tall as a man, and weighed more than a hundred pounds each, pure muscle. Their fangs were so large, some had trouble closing their mouths completely.
A few of the guards displayed similar 'enhancements'. Some had eyes in the back of their heads- literally. Others had extra arms grafted on, to carry more weapons.
"Cute" was Simon's comment "but they ain't winning any prizes in the Westminster dog show"
"Please" Veronique spoke up "Keep your inane babbling to yourself. That way I can pretend you don't exist, and be happy"
A sudden look of suspicion crossed Simon's face "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, quietly. Everyone tensed up. When Simon got quiet, Simon got dangerous.
"Well" Bubba said, plainly having given the matter some thought "I reckon it means she don't like you Simon. Just like you don't like her"
Simon relaxed, slightly. "Yeah, that's probably it. Stuck up bitch…"
Finally, after numerous security checks and mental probes by Kindred skilled in Auspex, they were lead into the house. The interior was no more opulent then the exterior. The walls were dingy and had numerous holes. The celing was stained from smoke (presumably the place had been in a fire at some point), the hard-wood floors were warped and stained. Security cameras were everywhere and armed guards patrolled the halls, in groups of three. One of each team was Kindred, armed with a submachine gun. The others were mortals, one with a flamethrower, the other with a walkie talkie and a large handgun.
Jeff spoke "Friendly place. I could recommend a good decorator, or failing that, and efficient demolitions company"
Janus said shaply "Shut up. All of you. DO as I say, and we'll be all right"
The Cardinal swept into view. He wore a black overcoat, with a frilly white shirt underneath. "Welcome! Welcome! Be welcome in my home, most honoured guests! " He seemed genuinely overjoyed to see them, greeting them as a mortal would long-lost family.
Thus began the elaborate Tzimisce welcoming ritual. It had been established centuries ago, when the Tzimisce had ruled Eastern Europe, and had carved it into innumberable autonomous kingdoms, and each vampire had been king of his realm. When one vampire visited another, the ritual provided a way to avoid inadvertant slights due to differing cultures (for instance of Russian versus Hungarian), and eased the tensions among enemies. All actions, all words, had to be carefully coordinated. The perfect welcome honored host and guest, reflecting the hosts generosity and wealth as well as the guest's gratitude and status. A mistake shamed both, and some had chosen suicide rather than live with such disgrace.. A wilfull deviation provided grounds for killing, in any way the offended party deemed fitting, and had caused no small number of feuds.
"You are far too kind to we humble travelers, most honored host. We merit none of the fine treatment you have shown us this night" Janus said, his voice reflecting perfect humility and gratitude as befitted a guest.
"Nonsense! You honor my manse with your presence. Now, come, we must feast to commemorate this joyous occasion." Zumarraga led them to an elaborate dining hall. The center of the room was occupied by an immense wooden table, on which were eight huge gold chalices filled with blood.
Janus stopped his companions and whispered "Do not drink until I do, and then wait util I'm done". Zumarraga, of course, heard this, but it was an accepted variant of the ritual, designed for those with childer or ghouls present who might not know correct rites, and wished to avoid making a scene. Taking his seat, to the Cardinal's immediate right, Janus said, "A toast! To our most excellent host Cardinal Zumarraga of the fief of Phoenix! May his nights be long and his desmes peaceful!"
As ceremony dictated Zumarraga himself drank first , from Janus' cup, to accept the compliment, and as a gesture of good faith that the blood was not toxic or tainted in any way. He drained the chalice, then proposed a toast "To the continued health of my guests, Jeff Blune, Veronique DuMars, Percival Rockwell (Sion's eyes leapt to Bubba, letting him know this would NOT be forgotten), Simon Myers, Jessica Quinn, Tariq Al'Akim, and Janus Zapolski. May there stay under my eaves be long and happy, as may there lives"
Janus drained the blood from Zumarraga's cup, and the others followed suit.
Zumarraga intoned "The rites are concluded. All are welcome in my Haven"
Simon burst out "all that's necessary every time you have a guest!"
Janus and Zumarraga both smirked "Not quite mister Myers. What you witnessed was an etremely abbreviated version, designed for situations of where time is pressing. The complete formalities of Welcoming require at least three hours of perfectly memorized ritual speaches, recitation of ancestry as far back as possible, the exchange of gifts, and numerous toasts. I'm actually a bit sorry I didn't get a chance to do the whole thing tonight, its been so long. Come with me, if you please."
Again, Zumarraga took the lead. He lead them from the stately dining room to a rather less opulent office suite. Here, Kindred sat at telephones, receiving reports. Faxmachines, computers, and modems at every desk. It seemed tht Zumarraga's Old World hospitality did not preclude New World efficiency. There was even a watercooler in the corner, albeit filled with blood. Sure enough three vampires were standing around chatting, until they saw the Cardinal, at which point they rushed back to work. Zumarraga just smiled.
Finally, they reached the main office. Zumarraga sat down behinda medium sized desk, also equipped with a computer, and motioned to seven chairs arranged so he could look each one in the face without much effort.
"I suppose" he said "you are surprised by the modernity of my manse? You should not be. This is after all, the heart of the South, and much transpires each night that I and my advisors must know of. Then there are orders, some of which are very pressing, which must be relayed over great distances. These " he said, gesturing at the electronics on the desk "are simply the most efficient way of doing these things. Although" he added, a small smile playing on his face "I will admit that I find the Internet to be most entertaining. I have learned much of the world, in a very short time. Now, to business"
Simon was gratefull. All that earlier talk of 'honored guest' and 'honored host' frankly bored him stiff. "So, what's this big problem you got, Monsignor? I'm guessin' an Elder's loose, 'cause that's the Magnificent Seven's specialty. Possibly some Lupines're involved, judgin' by the way you stared at Bubba's seat warmer. An' I'm guessin its all super-secret double-hush-hush,cause otherwise the Hand'd be here. So, what's up"
Silence. Simon was so annoying most of the time, that people had a habit of forgetting that he was also very intelligent.
"Yes" Zumarraga finally said "Yes, that accurately sums up the high points of my dilemma. But I will flush it out. There is a small California city called Powtanville. It isn't very important in and of itself, just over eighty thousand of the Kine living their, and about a dozen Anarchs. The problems are these, and please do not interrupt:
First, the Camarilla is putting out feelers in Powtanville. Normally we would not care, but we believe this to be part of a general move to retake California from the Anarchs. Their success in San Fransisco seems to have emboldened them. The Sabbat of course wish to nip this endeavour in the bud. The Camarilla representative is a Ventrue of no small experience named Peter Swift. One of your taks is to kill him.
Second, a group of Lupines, four we believe, belonging to what they call the Get of Fenris tribe, have also arrived in Powtanville. We do not like having Lupines this close to our borders, and certainly not these berzerkers. Exterminate them.
Third…there are...rumors of an…Ancient in Powtanville" Here Zumarraga looked decidedly uncomfortable, and fell silent.
After about thirty seconds of silence, Veronique prompted "What sort of Anciet, Your Eminence? Another Methusaleh?"
"Far more severe than that, childe. I have sufficient resources to deal with oe of them, formidable though they are"
Simon spoke next "Well, if its an Antedeluvian, I gotta admit, we're gonna need help. We're tough but not that tough. Those motherfuckers're…"
"More serious even than that"
Janus said "What could possibly be more serious than…" he trailed off. The Seven's expressions, which until now had run the gammut from interest to annoyance, all changed to shock, as the same thought occurred to them all at the same time.
Bubba voice what they were all thinking "You-you can't POSSIBLY mean…"
Zumarraga gave a curt nod "I do, indeed. Caine has been sighted in Powtanville. Your final task is to try to establish contact with Our Father. Needless to say this is your most important objective, though the only one for which failure will be accepted. Good luck."
With that, a guard entered the office and lead the stunned Kindred to the front gate. Hous later, Bubba finally broke the shocked silence.
"Shee-it."
End Chapter 1
Author's notes: Pretty good start if I do say so myself. A word on the style of the coming chapters. Some will be in 3rd person, like this one. But others will be in the 1st, showing how the different pack members view the situation. I'm also thinking about doing a chapter from Caine's POV. Quite looking forward to that one actually, going to be a challenge.
Oh, and if anyone can provide a bit of info on Sabbat rites (or point out a website with this info) I'd be grateful.
Read and Review folks!