It seems that everyone is looking foward to getting to Snowman's part. And here I was, thinking I was the only one who liked him, heh. But yes, I hope I will not disappoint anyone.
Vince'sbabygirl: I know Matt Schulze is of Native American descent. :) I wanted to include that at first, but in the end I stuck to the script. It describes him as being Puetro Rican, and I think it's more important that we stick to canon. Since, after all, the Bloodpack is a rich and diverse group. :)
The Bloodpack
Chapter 5: Beijing
The Great Wall of China, Beijing
People's Republic of China
Circa AD 2000
Asad was glad nightfall had come. Upon arriving in China, he had been struck by how oppressive the heat had been. He had traveled much in his life, mostly on Damaskinos' errands, but the weather here had to be the worse he'd encountered so far.
He was used to Prague's climate, and it wasn't anything like this. A breeze was picking up. It was a welcome relief from the warmth of the night.
He was strolling along the rugged terrain of the Great Wall of China, a monumental piece of world history. He was approaching the fourth tower at a steady pace, even if he found the terrain challenging to cross.
He had been told that Snowman could be found here. Originally he had traveled to Japan but had been informed that Snowman was part of the Chinese branch of the Kobejitsu family.
His uncle had been in part of the ill-fated House of Erebus two years before. As such, his father was now head of the family. Snowman was no Death Ninja — that title was reserved for the Japanese side — but he knew that he was a deadly warrior in true Kobejitsu tradition. Word on the street was that he was deadlier than the best Death Ninjas.
Asad kept walking. Snowman was on the sixth tower, and it would be some time yet before he reached that.
Snowman's mind registered a breeze picking up from the west. It ruffled his loose clothing but didn't bother him. He looked out from his post at the top of the sixth watch-tower. He never looked at the closed booths and little kiosks that dotted one side of the Great Wall; his favorite spot had been commercialized, and that saddened him. No, he looked out the vast plains that once were inhabited by the fierce Xiongnu tribes of the north, so many decades ago.
Two hundred years had passed since the first time he came here. He had loved it then because of its quiet tranquility and distinct lack of peopleTourists brought their cameras and video recorders, but hardly anyone stopped to actually look at the scene on the other side of the Wall.
His eyes were closed to let himself feel what it was like to be part of the wind, his nose picked up a scent. Vampire, he identified, opening his eyes. It was no use to try to see who it was, since his eyesight was only slightly better than a normal human's.
He drew his sword from its scabbard. He dueled with the shadows, waiting for whoever it was to approach him.
Asad trudged up the last of the slopes that led to the sixth watch tower. He paused at its foot, looking up to the partially-ruined roof. There was a single figure there and he heard the swish of a blade cutting through the air with practiced precision. The moonlight glinted off the edge of the katana and wakizashi as Snowman whirled them with expertise.
There came no sound from the blades' bearer; Snowman was mute, one of the very rare genetic anomalies in the bloodlines. He was mute and had ocular albinism. It would be a fatal mistake to underestimate him, though; he had worked hard to make sure he was the best fighter he could possibly be.
Asad entered the watch tower. He ascended the stairs, drawing his own sword silently as he did so. Snowman gave no indication that he knew Asad was there. Perhaps he didn't know at all; after all, his eyesight wasn't as good as his own, maybe his other senses were too.
He snuck up behind the Asian, his footsteps making no sound. Absently he realized that Snowman had no shadow, unlike himself or members of the other families. He swung his blade —
— and Snowman whipped around, catching it with his own. The clang they made echoed through the silent night.
They stood like that for a while, glaring at each other, the edge of their swords pressed together. Finally, Asad chuckled and drew back. Snowman seemed amused as he replaced his sword.
"You haven't changed, Snowman. Your senses are as sharp as ever," Asad smiled. Snowman inclined his head in a sort of half-bow. His cat-like eyes, yellow in color, asked what he was doing in China.
"I'm here on business," Asad informed him. He removed the truce key from the small rucksack he was carrying. "You know the Daywalker Blade has been active in Moscow and other parts of Russia."
Snowman nodded. He had heard the news; Kobejitsu forces were on red alert in case he decided to move downwards into the rest of Asia.
"Overlord Eli Damaskinos had decided that the Daywalker threat has become too large for our kind. He wants you to be part of a group that will serve to combat and, eventually, eliminate him." The wiry man raised a brow, as if wanting to know why he was wanted. "He thinks that your skills would be an invaluable addition. I think so too."
One corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Asad had always been in praise of his abilities, never really looking into his own. He was a fierce warrior in his own right, and they were almost equal in skill.
Asad held out the key. Snowman studied its surface, noting the hieroglyphics inscribed into the metal. He looked up at Asad's face.
He took the key. Asad nodded.
"This contains all the details you'll need to know," he said, withdrawing an envelope from the rucksack. He handed it to Snowman. "Plane tickets, contact details, everything."
Snowman nodded. He examined the contents of the envelope; all of it checked out. He looked up at Asad, who was already turning to leave.
"I'll see you around, Snowman," Asad said as he disappeared down the dilapidated steps. Snowman watched him go and turned to see him emerging from the foot of the watch tower. He watched until Asad became a tiny dot on the dark horizon.
