Ascension

"Talking"

"Thoughts"

"Telepathy and Blood view"

Overview and Selene Narration

Chapter XI: Tentative Truce

"Tell me Fenrir, will your brother join my glorious army? Or will he die like a dog?" Asked Voldemort to the Werewolf king.

"He an I don' speak mi'lor. Dif'rin 'pinion an tha' on who te follow. Plus he ain a fan of vampire's. Because you got 'em in ye forces he'll probably reject you." The feral Death Eater responded his thick northern accent blurring his words.

"Will you speak to him?"

Greyback nodded and left as Bellatrix entered. Greyback stopped and surpressed his magic and pressed his ear to the door. "Is it the Horocrux safe? What about the rest? The ring and Nagini?"

"The chalice is in my vault and the rest are at the designated places guarded by twenty Death Eaters under the command of some of your more veteran followers."

Greyback apparated away and rematerialised near an abandoned underground station if Fenrir remembered correctly. Grabbing one of the planks he ripped a few off and slid inside the tunnels following his nose. He snorted at his 'master' and his ignorance. Their were only three ways to become immortal one was to become a werewolf, lycan or at worst a Vampire. Fenrir tried to transition into a Lycan but failed as his little brother and a squib at that managed to steal his glory.

The Greyback brothers didn't speak to each other out of choice only nessecity and this was one of those times. Fenrir stormed through the subterrainian world that his brother lived in trying to avoid the snickers of the young Lycans.

"Where is my Brother?"

"With some of the newer Lycans...Shall I alert him?" Asked a smirking Lycan.

"Mitchel how many times have I told you NOT to antagonise you're uncle? Do you remember what happened last time? Oh may from 1348 until 1601? Oh and 1666?" A gruff much more distinct voice said it still retained the accent of the north but it had a distinct London tint to it.

"Rupert."

"Fenrir. What brings you here? Where are my manners? Drink?"

"Whiskey...Rupert, I know we don't get along but this is important." Said Fenrir downing a shot of whiskey and pouring another.

"How important is important?" Asked Rupert curiously eying his brother and the whiskey bottle.

"You know that wizard who I work with..."

"...Work for. I've seen the brand, I know what it does. Anyway what does he have to do with anything?"

"He's split his soul for immortality."

Rupert grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his brother and necked down two or three glasses from the bottle "The only thing I despise more than cleaning up after you brother are idiots trying to claim immortality AND making allianced with the vampires."

Fenrir smirked at his younger brother "So what are you going to do? It's not as if the vampire covens are going to exactly listen to you...Besides where are they?"

"Four subcovens exist in London alone and across Britain there must be at least fifty small covens all in various states of unco-operativity." Rupert grumbled.

"Who are the most co-operative out of the unco-operatives?" Asked Fenrir curiously.

"The city of Liverpool."

"LIVERPOOL! WILL'S SAKE! They're nothing more the blood drunk assholes who only live to spawn new vampires. I never risk my lads down their because of the bloody numbers and let's not forget that scrap of 1888."

Rupert snorted "That was hilariously painful...Then we have the Newcastle-on-Tyne bunch...Don't give me that look brother slightly preferable to Liverpool. I suppose the most liable to listen would either be the Manchester Federation and Bradford Bingley Leeds Legion."

Fenrir groaned "You go to Manchester and Bradford. I'll deal with the others."

With that the two Greyback brothers hit the stations and soon enough speeding across the country. Both of them knew that they would need all of their wits and honesty to tell the vampires about the newest upstart to immortality. Rupert shivered as he got the train in Manchester, it was here when he had been tortured by Vampires a hundred years ago.

Rupert found the warehouse easily enough and slammed his hand sharply on the door. "What do you want wolf?"

"I need to speak with the head of the coven."

At the exact same time Fenrir slammed his hand on the door in Liverpool.