[The scene is the Red Raven Bar & Grill, seen here from the outside.  The bar is silent for the first time in many days.  Torn banners flutter limply in the early morning breeze, and a stray Sarafan helmet rolls across the street like a tumbleweed.

The door opens and a line of women in yellow and black troop out, looking very much like a swarm of hungover bumblebees.]

Silmuen: *wanders out shaking Reaver violently in an attempt to dislodge some of the yellow gloop* Why won't this come off?

Vladimir's Angel: I told you it wasn't custard.

Lilith: How was I to know Lo-cost use the same containers for their emulsion?

Vladimir's Angel: *hands over spare pair of glasses* Next time, check the label.

Shadowrayne: Emulsion?! Hold on – are you telling me this is PERMANENT?

Lilith: *glances about shiftily*  Er . . .no . . .

Shadowrayne: So I can wash it off?

Lilith: Er . . .yeah … As long as you use turpentine

Shadowrayne:  GRRRRRRRR!  *swipes at Lilith with a rotary whisk*

Lilith: *ducks and hides behind a handy dead Sarafan*

Vladimir's Angel: So what are we going to do about the bar?

Lilith: Kain covered the walls in canary yellow when he dived into the pool, and I don't fancy repainting it.  I think we should move on – yellow is a most unsuitable colour for an evil dictator's den.  Hold on *looks around*  we're missing some people.  Where's Raziel?

Vladimir's Angel: I left him in the paddling pool.  He got all annoyed when Deionarra won and he doesn't want to play any more.  Oh, and we're missing a Mikoto too.

Lilith: I think Mikoto's missing her sanity – she's probably off with her troupe of Raziels, causing irreparable damage to the multiverse.

Shadowrayne: Yay! Go Mikoto!  *notices everyone staring at her*  Heh.  Sorry.  So, do we have a plan?

Vladimir's Angel: *chuckles* Yep.  *produces contract from pocket*   We're moving our base of operations.

*

The Sanctuary of the Clans looms (all weaving materials available from Zephon's Spinning Warehouse) in the far distance, rising from the barren plain that surrounds it like some gigantic gothic zit.

Shadowrayne:  Are we nearly there yet?

Lilith: *puff* *pant* *wheeze*  Knew I shouldn't have started that second bottle of red last night.

Vladimir's Angel: Still feeling the Malibu myself. *hic*

AmuseMe: *jumps out from behind a cactus*  Boo!

Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth: AAARGH!

Lilith: Whatchoo doing here?

AmuseMe: Doing research for my next fic.  Why are you all covered in yellow paint?

Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth: *glare at Lilith*

Lilith: Er . . . long story.

Silmuen: No it's not.  It's very simple: you mistook paint for custard in the store and now my lovely reaver is covered in it!  (to reaver)Aren't you, precious?

Lilith: *looks sheepish*  Sorry . . .

Silmuen: *folds arms* it's not good enough.

Lilith: Can I bribe you with beer?

Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth: YES!

Vladimir's Angel: *in an aside* Can I have a Malibu instead?  I don't like beer . . .

Lilith: I think we need a pit-stop.  Where's the nearest bar?

AmuseMe: Follow me!

Lilith: Should've guessed you'd know where the nearest watering hole was . . .

[The Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth wander up to a tavern at a crossroads.  The sign on the door indicates that there is a dress code: No glowing armour, silly helmets or purple bikinis.  Impractical, revealing leather armour only.]

Shadowrayne: Do you think they'll let in human bananas?    

Silmuen: Precious looks like a banana, don't you, precious?

Vladimir's Angel: I think we should take that reaver off her . . .

Lilith: *nods and starts making plans to separate Silmuen and Precious, then enters bar and starts listing the drinks order*  I'll have seven beers, a quadruple Jack Daniels, a pint of Malibu and a Death Star cocktail, please.

Bartender: (from under counter) Just a minute – I'm changing the barrels.

Vladimir's Angel: Where the heck have you brought us, AmuseMe? *looks around at heavily cobwebbed ceiling, battered furniture and mounds of unwashed glasses suspiciously*

[There's a head hanging over the fireplace that might once have been attached to a cross between a cockroach and a Beholder, blood on the windows and the chalk outline of a human body on the ceiling.  The Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth shuffle about and try to decide whether it's safe to sit down.]

AmuseMe: Dunno.  Never been in here before . . .

Shadowrayne: *bangs fist on bar*  Oi!  Waiter!  We need some beer!

Lilith: You're having a lemonade, missy.

Shadowrayne: *sulks* You're mean to me.  Anyway, they probably don't have lemonade on Nosgoth.

Bartender: *stands up, wiping claws on a dishcloth*  Right.  What can I get you?

[The room falls silent.  There's a thump as Silmuen goes to sit down and misses her stool.]

Lilith: Oh.

[The bartender is Isca, wearing nothing but a pair of those high-waisted, low-cut leather trousers that seem to be all the rage on Nosgoth at the moment.]

Isca: *grins at room full of women, all apart from one of whom are covered from head to toe in yellow paint*  Fancy dress party, is it?  Hen night?  What are you supposed to be?

[a glob of paint falls to the floor with an audible splat, and still no-one speaks.]

Isca: Hello?

Vladimir's Angel: (vacantly) Hel . . .lo

Isca: Ah.  They do speak.

AmuseMe: [as the only one not covered in yellow gloop] *saunters over to the bar, waggling her eyebrows*  Hel-lo

Silmuen: Precious says 'Hello,'

Shadowrayne: What about the beer?

Lilith: *eyes Isca suspiciously*  you're not supposed to be here.

Isca: *starts pouring drinks*  What?  I'm not allowed to take a time-out from all your drama and torture to follow my true passion?

Lilith: Your true passion?

Isca: I always wanted to be a barman.

Lilith: *buries face in hands*

Vladimir's Angel: *settles herself on barstool moments before everyone else starts to crowd around the bar, suddenly very eager to get their drinks*

Isca: Yeah.  It's a great way to eat people - I mean meet people. *finishes pouring drinks*  Anything else?

Lilith: Nope.  How much is all this?

Vladimir's Angel: (whispering) I didn't bring any money.

Lilith: I've got . . . *rummages in pockets, then remembers she didn't put any pockets in her catsuit*  . . . a Moulinex blender!

Isca: Sorry, I don't accept kitchen implements.

Silmuen: Precious has money, don't you?

Isca: Sorry, I don't accept money either.

AmuseMe: *perches on the edge of the bar, peering over the top*  Hey!  You weren't changing a barrel – there's a body down there!

Shadowrayne: *points at the far end of the tavern*  Uh guys, I think we have company.

Vladimir's Angel: Quick!  Get out the KUMDs!

Shadowrayne: I can't!  Mine's painted to my catsuit!

Silmuen:  Never fear – Precious is here! *advances on shadowy figures at the far end of the tavern, brandishing the Emulsion Reaver threateningly*

Lilith: (to Isca) Be nice.

Isca: *shakes head*

Lilith: Be nice or you'll be in soooo much trouble in my next chapter.

Isca: *sighs*  Oh alright, you can have the drinks on the house.

Lilith: That's not what I meant. . .

Isca: *grins* I know.  Thing is, my soldiers are hungry.

Vladimir's Angel: Emulsion tastes horrid – believe me.  It's worse than liquorice!

Shadowrayne: *wails* I'm too young to die!

Lilith: Dammit! Where's ArchEnemy/Ebony when you need her?  She'd scare the pants off these vamps in no time.  Oh well, we'll just have to make do without her.  Get your Kain dolls ready, everyone!

 *

. . . And so the Black Leather-Wearing Women From Earth get ready for their first proper battle with Nosgoth's undead.  Will they survive?  Will the vamps choke on Lo-cost emulsion?  Or will they be repelled by the Terrans' vicious Kain dolls?  Tune in next time to find out.