Check in
Checking in.
.-.
Checking In - sorry for no avatar at the moment, finding something suitable was more difficult than I anticipated.
Quick check in, since I hadn't seen this was up.
As the flight sped across the Atlantic Ocean, Falla flipped through a magazine to pass the time. Though the rented plane was well appointed, the reading selections were a bit out of date. The stewardess came around and offered drinks, but Falla declined.
Like all of her clansmen, once she had taken the pledge alcohol had no effect on her. Truth be told, she didn't need much sleep, either, so she sat and flipped through a magazine, showing various things for sale.
One of her newest clansmen, Donnall, flipped through his phone, playing some sort of game, she presumed.
When he gets to be my age, I wonder if he'll still cling to his technology as he does now. If I'm still alive, I'll ask him.
Bored, she put away the magazine into the side compartment she had drawn it from and once again pulled out the images of the meeting place pulled from the internet. She had already desginated multiple exfiltration points, along with points where she would have the forward element...my clansmen, she once again reminded herself, park rental cars to allow multiple escape routes, depending on the fluidity of the situation.
....
A week ago
....
"My king, this is a bad idea. We don't know the blue clan's real agenda, and Mali is hardly neutral ground. I beg you please reconsider."
Even as she made the argument, however, she knew it was a lost cause. That was just how her king was. If he wanted to know something, he would just rely on his immortality to win him through. It was good that he did not rule on high, like some clans, but these kinds of trips were always risky, and she would prefer to limit risk if she could.
After all, there was every chance should her king somehow die, she would inherit the mantle, and that was to be avoided at all costs.
July 1st, 2024 - Selfoss, Iceland
Victor turns from the large dining table that the clan has been using as a combination eating space/office for the three months. The Silver King had a tendency to wander all across the world in pursuit of whatever caught his interest at the time, a characteristic which has most recently found you staying at this 150 year old fishing lodge in Selfoss. While your king has spent his time engrossed in the ancient runes that brought you here ("it is a language that predates the Christianisation of Europe" he would explain with excitement whenever the opportunity arose), the rest of the clan has been left to occupy themselves. The lodge itself is large enough to house the entirety of Sanctum comfortable, and Victor had rented it out for the duration of your stay so you've had the building all to yourselves. However, besides the occasional trek into the field to gather research material the clan members have had to keep themselves occupied.
Roland, as always, has maintained his serious demeanor. In part, you are sure, because he is the oldest surviving servant of the clan, but also because that is just how he is. He spends his time doting over Doctor deGrey along with the rest of the clan, with only the occasional breaks for quiet contemplation. He is, to put it another way, boring.
Your other clansmen mostly spend their time mingling with the locals. By all accounts Selfoss is a picturesque community. The population of 10,000 or so is mostly employed by local business, the largest of which are a dairy firm and a general store, while the rest make the commute to nearby cities for work. Since it's July in Iceland the days are long and it's practically the hottest it will be all year, with a "balmy" average of 14° C. Your visit has also coincided with preparations for the local festival "Summer in Selfoss" that's held in August, but apparently you won't be staying that long.
You've mostly spent your time drilling Donnall and tutoring him in relevant subjects. He's from the northwestern US and his experience with any manner of magecraft or violence could be summed up as "none", so there's a lot of work to do.
"Falla, please. I understand your concern but I'm afraid the matter is already decided. We're going to Africa. The sudden emergence of the Grey Clan concerns me and I want to know what Tetsuya has been doing about it. As for their agenda: knowing Section 9 they're probably most concerned with the Grey King, not us."
He starts collecting his papers on the table while continuing: "They've offered to set up security for the meet and I've accepted. Besides, you and Roland will both be sitting in so even if something does happen we'll be well prepared."
"What could go wrong?" he adds.
July 8th, 2024 - Mali, 100 kilometers outside of Gao
Your convoy of three black SUVs makes its way across the arid African landscape towards Gao. It's the deadheat of summer here with temperatures above 30°C and virtually no rainfall (which, should be noted, is more than the rest of the year when the rainfall is 0). You entered the country via Niger and have been driving ever since. It's been mostly dirt roads and empty landscapes, making the trip all the more unpleasant.
In the middle car Corporal Gheid prepares to go over the details of the meeting yet again. "We'll be arriving in Gao shortly after 15:00. Doctor Victor and his entourage will be coming in via airport in Gao, but we can expect they will already be on the ground once we arrive. The meeting place is a cafe called 'Bélah Rotisserie'; it's right on the road and has outdoor seating. Myself, Saber, and Private Ross will be attending. The first car third car will park along the street *here* and *here*" he says, indicating points on a map.
By this point you stop listening. You've already read and memorized the relevant information regarding this operation, as you do with all your missions. Normally you would still listen out of politeness, but Corporal Gheid is not a man you like. He is short-sighted and close-minded, he lacks any real depth to his thoughts or actions. For as long as you've known him, his role in Section 9 has been administrative - ensuring that others conform to a rigid hierarchy of rules and procedures. He hounds after others that perceives as a threat to his station. Today, it is Private Ross, who he has already scolded twice. Once for tracking dirt from the desert into the car, and again when he asked a question regarding the dossier. His utter lack of any magnificent traits to his person makes it difficult for you to have anything resembling respect for him. Ross, on the other hand, you like. He is a young man, still full of potential. He has been assigned to this operation as an information specialist. As you understand, this will be his first time in the field.
You see that the lecture is coming to an end and return your focus to Corporal Gheid just as he asks "...Are there any questions?"
As usual, Charlemagne is reading some fantasy book. He always takes a couple whenever he goes away from the headquarters on a mission. Since he was summoned a year and a half ago, he never spend a single day without reading - the modern world has so many books, how can justify not reading? Reading is fascinating.
He takes his eyes away from the book when Gheid stops lecturing, puts a bookmark and closes it.
"I have a question, Gheid," Charlemagne purposefully left out his rank. "Do you have to repeat that over and over again? We're not children. And it won't hurt you to use my name once in a while, vous savez? Saber is so... impersonal."
He looks at Ross. A good lad.
"And don't be so hard on him. It's not his fault that this damn sand is everywhere." Charlemagne looks outside - still the same scenery, sand everywhere and some ugly trees. "Who would want to live in such place? It's dreadful."
July 10, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia
It is around 2 AM local time in Novosibirsk, a time when the majority of people are fast asleep. Ealdo Maceo Sigil is wide awake and Paul watches, fascinated, as he works. The two of you, along with five other clansmen from House Sigil are gathered around the summoning circle that Maceo is preparing. The other clansmen also watch as he works arcane sigils into the chalk circle drawn across the concrete floor, only looking away when they dare a glance at the Auditor from House Konstantinov. The Auditor is a woman with short black hair wearing a dark blue business suit. She's smoking a cigarette right now, also watching Maceo as he prepares the summoning ritual. She's here because, officially, the Green King has to approve all servant summoning rituals done within the clan for any purpose. Thus, the Auditors, members of the ruling house that are specially trained and adept at tracking down unregistered summoning within the clan. As such, they wield total authority on the matter so when they decide to observe a summoning, that's what happens. This woman (whose name you do not know) makes you uncomfortable, but no more than would be expected given the situation. Her eyes are hidden behind dark sunglasses and she makes no effort to give any hint of thought on her face, besides opening her mouth to occasionally accept another drag from the cigarette.
The location of the ritual has been chosen carefully. An abandoned warehouse in one of the poorer districts of town. No one will be around to witness to the summoning, no one to interfere, and if things go wrong then it will be a simple clean up - just mop up any bystanders and attribute the whole thing to satanists.
Maceo appears to have completed his preparations and turns to address the gathered clansmen: "Fellow members of House Sigil, now is a great time. You are about to witness the summoning of our champion, a powerful heroic spirit that will lead our house, and the green clan, to greatness!" at this, some of the clansmen quietly prepare their weapons. Despite Maceo's eloquence, there is a very real possibility that this summoning could go unexpectedly wrong - hence the assault weapons. You, Paul, do not, for your role in this remains to observe. Maceo continuous undeterred "The witching hour is upon us, let the ritual commence. Auditor?" he says, glancing at the woman. She, in turn, says and does nothing, apparently indicating her approval.
"Very well" says Maceo, and he turns to the circle and slashes his left palm open with a knife, spilling blood over the chalk and concrete. Inside the circle the dozens of candles that Marceo placed (which you have been told are inscribed 'To bring death and revenge to my Enemies') all spontaneously and simultaneously light.
Energy fills the air and the generator-powered flood lamps arranged around the warehouse immediately dim to the point of nearly going out. Nothing happens for a few seconds and Maceo steps away from the circle. Then there is a loud crack, as if lighting had struck nearby, and green orbs of light start to slowly rise from the floor where the circle is drawn. They begin circling in clockwise around the perimeter, quickly picking up speed until they are violent blurs. The air in the room heats up and sparks appear in the air above the summoning circle. Their is another loud crack and a flash of light and smoke as reality finally gives out to allow the heroic spirit into existence.
As the smoke clears and the floodlights return to full power, you see a woman standing in the circle. She is tall, thin, and almost deathly pale. Her face is obscured with a black veil and her clothing is some mixture of a skirt, blouse, and a dress. She doesn't do anything immediately which is a good sign.
Maceo is the first to speak once the summoning ritual is complete. He addresses the spirit directly, making himself known as the summoner:
"Berserk-class servant, Santa Muerte, Saint of Death. I am Ealdo Maceo Sigil. Will you enter into a contract?"
Maceo seems as cool and collected as usual, but Paul you see a single bead of sweat rolling down the back of his neck.
This power, this rage, this love
Santa Muerte casts an eye around the room as she gives a small stretch of her neck and a flex of her fingers. A scattering of people stare, almost desperately, out to her - all waiting with their breath held tight.
"...Will you enter into a contract?" Muerte's shadowed eyes focus in front of her where the man is standing. He looks calm, powerful, in control, but his eyes flick subtly to the stoic woman off in the corner. A small smile comes across her face as Muerte raises a delicate hand, offering it to the man, and her eyes soften lovingly as she meets his gaze.
"Of course, my child. I have always been yours and you have always been mine." Her voice is sweet, melodic even, but the melody feels sad and soft.
"Now that you've said that, my liege, I'm sure everything will be fantastic."
July 8th, 2024 - Mali, 84 kilometers outside of Gao
Gheid stops speaking and looks at you, his jaw clenched. His stare alone is like daggers and you can tell you've struck a nerve. When he finally speaks, his voice is strained:
"I will repeat this mission briefing, Saber, as many times as I like. I will say it over and over again until I'm blue in the face because I am in charge. Has that fact slipped your mind?"
He shuffles some papers back into a briefcase before continuing "You should be more concerned for yourself than for the private. If you insist on having such a flagrant disregard for authority then I will have you properly reprimanded once we return to HQ. Frankly I didn't want you here in the first place, but the commanders insisted that we need a servant in company whenever we are moving through this region."
Private Ross shifts uncomfortably and makes an effort to simply stare out the window as this goes on.
July 10th, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia
There is a collective sigh of relief in the room. Maceo smiles and relaxes. "Fantastic, I am so pleased to hear it. Paul, would you come here please?" and he motions for you Paul.
"Paul, you, I, and Berserker will be returning to the house shortly. The rest will stay here and clean up. Paul, I'd like to have you show Berserker around before retiring. It is important that we welcome her properly" he explains.
Nearby, the Auditor appears to be satisfied with the outcome and puts out her cigarette, preparing to leave as well.
July 1st, 2024 - Selfoss, Iceland
Victor sighs "I know you're still upset with me, but I think it better to face this challenge now instead of waiting to see how it may develop."
He smiles and says "The meeting isn't for another few days, at least you can enjoy the rest of your time here. I hear the weather in Mali is going to be far less pleasant than here."
The King of Paladins frowns. "Do not forget whom you speak to, corporal," now Charlemange on the contrary, makes an emphasis on Gheid's rank. His eyes sparks with anger, but it fades as soons as it ignites. "And do not forget your place."
He flips the book open. "Shall I remind you, that I answer to Captain Yoh, whom I respect?" another emphasis. "I will not answer to a man who does not know his place and who vents on his subordinates because of every little thing."
Charlemagne starts reading the book from the bookmarked page. "Do not distract me until we get to the place."
While Maceo scribbled on the concrete, spared him short glances as he typed frantically at the keyboard in front of him. This ritual wasn't just happening in meatspace, it was layered - all around him he was flicking routers on and off, killing power to street lamps and high-rises, and slowly twisting streams of data all across the city into the wardings needed. Somewhere, another member of House Sigil had left his body to do the same in the astral.
The others checked their weapons, and a bead of sweat dripped off of Paul's nose. If this goes wrong, this is gonna suck... He hoped he could run fast enough.
The air lit with fire, and Paul's laptop sparked and fizzed before dying with an ugly crunching sound. Oh, come on! a small part of his mind, the one not either entranced or gibbering in terror, thought. That's the third one this week! As the smoke cleared, and the lights returned, Paul stared half in awe, half in confusion at the woman suddenly standing in the circle.
That's... it? She looks so... normal. Something echoed in her voice when she spoke, though, something that spoke of experience out of time. He gulped, then gulped again when he was called forwards. The laptop gets thrown to the side as he steps forwards, trying not to trip over the power cords.
"Yeah? Um, alright. There's this 24-hour cafe nearby, we could go there I guess..." He didn't meet her eyes.
"As you command, my lord. I'll go and check on our travel arrangements, plus set up things on the ground. Donnall, come with me. I have to see to your training as well."
Muerte's eyes slide over Maceo and onto Paul taking in the young man with the laptops.
What are laptops?
Muerte puts the thought out of her mind. "A Cafe it is then." she says sweetly as she holds her scythe aloft. The weapons edge gleams as light from the night sky pours over the blade. As she holds it the light seems to expand, turning brighter, and moving across not just the blade, but the handle as well. The scythe shrinks collapsing in on itself as it becomes a small ball of light in Muerte's hand - which suddenly cracks and dissolves leaving behind a gleaming pistol. "A more subtle approach, no?" Muerte gives a small laugh that might have been cute had it not come from the literal Spirit of Death and offers Paul her arm.
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
The rest of the car ride is spent in cold silence, with Corporal Gheid to caught up in his anger to do anything besides fume and Private Ross unwilling to risk doing something that might draw the corporals attention (meaning, anything at all).
You arrive in Gao a little after three o'clock. The convoy immediately makes its way to the meeting point, and once you reach the cafe the first and third cars split off and park at the areas Gheid indicated earlier. Meanwhile, your driver parks your SUV on the street opposite the cafe and motions for everyone to get out. Corporal Gheid exits first and stands outside the car, waiting (probably impatiently) and staring (probably at nothing) from behinds his sunglasses. The oppressive heat wastes no time setting in once Gheid compromises the cool interior of the SUV by opening the door. Private Ross exits the SUV and heads around the rear of the vehicle, opening the trunk and taking out a hard-plastic case used to carry electrical equipment. Your own gear is stored in a slim dark blue case resting next to you (Section 9 prohibits the unauthorized display of any sort of weapons, even for servant).
Once you're all ready to go Gheid leads you across the street to the cafe. There's not too many pedestrians out right now and you only have to dodge a handful of mopeds and motorcycles as they zoom past. You catch sight of the meeting spot - a table outside of the cafe. By the looks of it the silver clan got here before you and are already waiting. You don't recognize the woman at the table, but you know the face of the two men with her. One you know is the silver king while the other man you recognize in a personal way.
About halfway across the street, still out of earshot of the table, Gheid speaks up "Alright gentleman, remember, this is an information exchange. Let me do the talking. That goes doubly for you, Saber. If anything goes wrong your welcome to be as wild and unpleasant as you like, so long as myself and Private Ross are accounted for. So until then, try not to make an ass of yourself."
Before you get the chance to come up with an insult of your own, Gheid leads you the rest of the way across the street and towards the empty chairs outside the cafe.
You've been sitting at the cafe in Gao for twenty minutes before the blue clan finally arrive. You have to give them credit for their absolute lack of subtlety as a trio of black, tinted SUVs roll into a town in Africa and park no more than a couple of hundred feet away from each other. One of the cars parks directly across the cafe and you see three uniformed men get out, again you have to credit their insistence on uniform in this kind of heat. One grabs a case from the back of the SUV and then all three make their way towards your table.
Victor doesn't seem particularly phased by any of this, nor does Roland. Both are dressed casually: shorts and a button-up for Victor and slacks with a t-shirt for Roland. Inside at another table are Donnall and another clansmen. They seem a little too engrossed in their conversation and you hope that they have enough presence of mind to remember that they're supposed to be lookouts.
You've left your phone face down on the table near the coffee you've hardly touched. As the blue clan gets closer your phone chimes, a sound that is otherwise innocuous to everyone besides you. A while ago Victor gave you this phone that he had personally modified with a suite of new features. In this case the tone indicates a rise in ambient magical energy within the immediate area which you chalk up to the servant that is escorting the two blue clansmen. Of course, it could equally mean the presence of magecraft, a leyline, phantasms, or the damn thing could just be glitching out.
The blue clansmen finally make it over, one of whom speaks up right away "I am Corporal Gheid with Section 9, are these seats taken?" he asks, indicating the three empty chairs.
Walking into the bustling cafe, Falla will approach the counter and ask to speak to the owner. AFter the requisite wait, Falla will offer the man a large sum of money to book his establishment for the day. "We will need a couple of servers for a period of time, but we will pay everyone involved twice their normal salary for one day's worth of work, in addition to whatever the cost is to lease your establishment."
After arranging to secure the site as best she can, Falla will meet with a certain "pawn broker" and secure several throwaway handguns. She will spend the rest of the evening cleaning and repairing them. The glove compartment of each of their rental cars will get a handgun, and she will wear a pair herself, with a backup ankle holster pistol.
Unlike her King and his servant, Falla is wearing a shirt with a light jacket which is cut to conceal the pair of holsters in the small of her back. She is wearing Khakis and laced up boots as well.
Turning to the servant, Falla will stand and say "On behalf of my king, I greet you in mutual respect. My liege hopes that today's proceedings are joined in the spirit of mutual cooperation and continued peace."
She then turns and faces the Corporal and responds to his question: " Please, be seated, but know that if you offend my king, you will not live long enough to tell anyone of it." she then gives him her best predatory smile as she sits back down and picks up her phone, apparently uninterested in further discourse.
July 10th, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia - Traveler's Cafe
Paul leads Muerte to the nearby Traveler'es Cafe. It's within walking distance, only six blocks and a short bridge away from the ritual site.
The two of them enter together. The place is a ghost town, the only person there at this time of night is one tired looking employee working the register. "Welcome-" he starts in Russian, but seeing Muerte he quickly switches to a painfully broken-sounding English. "It is a good night tonight. Would you like something from here?" asks the cashier.
The King of Paladins ignores Gheid, as usual, and walks near him to the cafe. Charlemagne wears a classic suit, but the jacket is unbuttoned, the shirt is unbuttoned at the neck and the tie hangs loose.
Roland! Of course he would be on this meeting. I haven't seen for some time, we should talk after.
He nods to Roland, the Silver King and the woman, taking a seat at the table. He sets his blue weapon case at his chair, for a quick access if any trouble arises.
"Нет необходимости говорить по-английски. Один черный кофе, пожалуйста, и ..." He pauses, turning to Santa Muerte. "Mis disculpas, debería haberle preguntado primero. ¿Cómo te gusta tu café?"
"My apologies, I should have asked you first. How do you like your coffee?"
"With plenty of sugar, if you please" Muerte's voice is soft and low, like the whispers of the dead.
She leaves Paul to order the coffee as she glides over to a table nestled into the corner, giving her a view of the little shop and all it's entrances. Sitting gracefully she begins to play with the condiments that are available table side; stacking them, un-stacking them, and knocking over her creations.
"...И один с тремя сахарами." Coffees in hand, he sits across from Santa Muerte and watches her play at architecture with salt and pepper. "So... d'you have any questions? I'm new to the city, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to show you."
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
If Gheid heard Falla's comment, he doesn't let it show. Instead he pulls out the center of the empty chair and sits down, motioning for his companions to do the same. Once everyone is settled in he sets the dossier he had been carrying on the table and opens it up.
"This..." he explains "Are the most recent reports on Strain activity on this continent. There has been an alarming rise in the manifestation of all categories of strain, including Phantasms. We also have at least two confirmed reports of unregistered summoning. Additionally, the Strain themselves have become significantly more unstable over the last few months. We've increased our operations in response, but the rise itself is still worrying."
While he's speaking Private Ross opens up the hard case to reveal a portable computer that he sets up on the table. "There's also this" says Gheid once the computer is set up.
"Twelve days ago an oil refinery in Angola was attacked by unknown insurgents. In under an hour the facility, along with the armed force assigned to protect it, was burned to the ground. We confiscated this footage from the site:"
The video playing on the computer is grainy but you can still make out what is happening. You can clearly tell the refinery is on fire from the plumes of dark smoke that are pouring out from every angle. You catch a glimpse of panicked workers running from something off screen. The camera suddenly pans skyward and everyone falls silent. There, between the columns of smoke, you see it clear as day - a Sword of Damocles hanging in the sky above the refinery. The grey aura eminating from the object is unmistakable.
July 10th, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia - Traveler's Cafe
It's a few minutes before the worker brings over your coffees. It seems there's a phone number written on Berserkers cup. Glancing at the employee he offers only a wink and a wry grin.
Charlemagne already watched the video many times. He leans back at the chair with his arms crossed and shakes his head in disapproval. "We already knew that the damn brat is out of control. Why blow up the refinery? What's her end goal?"
"Has there been any other activity in the region targeting infrastructure? Hang on a moment, let me do some searching really quick" Falla grabs her phone and does a quick google search of Al Jazeera for attacks in Angola.
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
For once Victor has a grim look on his face when the video ends. He crosses his arms before replying to Charlemagne "We don't know, we can't know. Until now the new grey king has made it clear that she has no particular interest in any of us so we can't exactly ask her without first tracking her down. She's young too, which could somewhat account for her behavior, but that doesn't really explain why she's doing this in the first place."
Fallas research lines up with what the Doctor is saying. There have been several attacks with similar characteristics in not only Angola, but throughout southern and central Africa. They're centered around manufacturing facilities such as factories, refineries, and mines. There's also been a rise in conflict between private military forces and so called "armed rebels". You can tell that there's been a lot of work on behalf of the clans to obfuscate the stories, as everything has been attributed to disaster, accidents, or faceless rebels. That refinery in Angola, for example, was reported to have been destroyed after the catastrophic failure in a primary safety valve.
"What's more" adds Victor "I know for a fact that gold clan has several paramilitaries operating throughout this part of the world. It's just a matter of time until she runs afoul of either them, or Section 9."
"Perhaps these attacks have something to do with the rise of the strain we're all here to discuss? What if the Grey King is recruiting?"
"Whatever it is, she has to be stopped. If she continue such blatant displays of magic... It won't end well for anyone. Especially if she overexerts herself."
Muerte picks up her cup delicately and glances over the numbers. She smiles warmly as she takes a sip of the coffee.
Tepid. Bitter. Awful.
Muerte stands up slowly and glides to the counter, giving the young man a sweet smile. "My coffee is cold and bitter." Her eye take on a gleaming quality as she reaches up and strokes the boys cheek, "is that what you think of me? Of mine?" Muertes voice cracks a bit and her smile becomes hard, menacing. She grabs the employees chin in her iron grasp and pulls him close, whispering, "Do you fear me? Do you fear death?" A single tear forms and rolls down her soft cheek.
With her offhand Muerte reaches down and pulls out her gun, it glows bright a moment leaving an old machete in her hand. She releases the man, screaming "YOU WILL COME TO ME WHEN I DESIRE, LOVE OR NONE!" She slams the machete into the counter, cleaning slicing a chunk from it. As she does the light from he r eyes fade and is replaced by a look of horror as she stares down at her hands. She whirls on Paul and, grabbing him quickly, flees the shop, stopping only once they are far away from prying eyes.
" What...what has that man done to me?
Paul follows, not that he has much choice, his head still trying to catch up to what just happened. "I... ah... what? What? Nothin'! He brought you coffee! An' yeah, it was shitty coffee, but it's a 24-hour place - what'd y' expect?!"
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
"It is not so simple" explains Victor in response to Charlemagne. "Worse case scenario: it could devolve into a war with the clans. If she were recruiting we would be facing a situation that would boil over into the entire continent."
Victor reaches out his hand to take the documents but Gheid stops him. "Doctor, we at Section 9 at are more than happy to share our information with you freely, but we need to know that you'll have out interests at heart..."
Victor sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I appreciate your subtlety, Corporal, but I have no interest in working for you. I agreed to this meeting because I understood it would be an opportunity to foster cooperation. I've no interest in poking around your guinea pigs for you."
Gheid leans back in his sheet and shrugs. "Unfortunate. Then I suppose we have nothing further to discuss. Pack it up" he says, glancing at Ross.
It is still midday, but the streets in this part of town have almost completely cleared out. The silence is both unusual and eerie. By happenstance, you catch sight of someone snapping a picture of your group with a smartphone from across the street. Its clearly a young man, dark skinned, but before you can get a better idea of what he looks like he ducks out of sight.
Her eyes focus on Paul icily "Not the coffee - your master. What is this anger, this desire?" She stares at Paul hard for a moment before softening and regaining her original graceful composure. "I do not blame you, Paul, nor the young man with the coffee. If I had to be honest - " She flashes a warm smile, like a mother watching her children "I don't even hold it against Maceo. Some just wish to return to my love faster than others." She giggles and offers Paul her arm once again, "We should find him soon, no?"
July 10th, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia - Traveler's Cafe
The cashier can't bring himself to say anything during Berserkers outburst. In fact, he only manages to put his hands up weakly as a sign of submission. A look of pure horror washes over his face as she destroys the shop and remains even after they leave.
Outside, Paul knows - or at least can guess - that the police will likely be stopping by soon.
You spy a camera in the corner behind the counter as you exit the shop and another mounted over a nearby traffic light. Could end up being a problem
"Gheid, Ross, don't make any sudden movements. We have a problem," whispers Charlemagne, "A third party seems to be very interested in our meeting. So interested in fact, that there are not a single person in the street and someone just took a picture of us."
He slowly moves his hand closer to the lock on his weapon case. "Be ready for a combat."
Falla begins to say something, but Charlemagne's comments stop her.
She quickly picks up her phone, and sends out a text: be alert. Possible incoming.
Speaking as loud as she had before, Falla says "Look, there is no reason not to be reasonable here. I'm sure that we can work something out. Of course, before I promise anything, I'll have to check with my king. He should be here in a few days, and I'm sure that he will be more than happy to talk about some sort of compromise."
"Find... Maceo? Yeah, that'd be a good idea. Lets go - quickly." He says, glancing around nervously and walking hurriedly away from the area.
Muerte starts to walk away with Paul as a glimmer catches her eye. With a fluidity and speed far beyond the common man a flash of light appears in Muerte's hand breifly before being replaced with a pearl handed pistol. She points it at the small camera as it stares ominously down at them, a dull red light blinking slowly.
"Paul." She jerks softly at his arm and gestures "Can we fix that?"
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
"We're done here anyways" whispers Gheid in return "Pack it up, I said."
When he turns back to the silver clansmen he has a confused expression on his face but shakes it off, saying "We'll be in touch."
From inside the cafe comes Donnall, standing besides Fallas seat. "What's going on he asks?"
At that same moment Private Ross puts his finger up to his ear, indicating that he had been wearing an earpiece during the meeting. "Sir, the car parked at the intersection says a pair pickup trucks are approaching at high speed. What do you want to do."
"We're leaving" says Gheid in response, this time his voice is forceful.
Falla, your phone beeps again. This time it indicates a significant increase in the areas ambient magical energy. In fact, you see Victor pull out and check his own phone, presumably having received the same alert.
Falla will pick up her phone and pocket it without looking at it. She will then draw both her pistols, chamber rounds into them, and then turn to Donnall and say "Get him out of here. I'll go have a talk with our guests."
As she says that, the other patrons of the cafe all stand up and draw weapons.
To the Charlemagne, Falla will say "Assuming that these oncoming people do not work for you, what say we set aside differences for the moment and face them in a united front? Whoever is coming will be decently powerful, mystically speaking."
"Besides," she will add, looking at Roland, "it might be neat to see a historial re-enactment."
"Gheid, you're a fool if you think this has nothing to do with Section 9," snaps Charlemagne. "We're not leaving."
"Private Ross, tell everyone to stay put, defend themselves and cover us." Charlemagne glances at the corporal. "I am taking the command now. Understand?"
He takes out his sword from the case, gripping in firmly in both hands and looks at Roland. "Just like the old time, eh?"
"Hm? Oh! Yeah, no worries there." Paul says as he whips out his smartphone and starts scanning for the web server that for some ungodly reason people a decade ago had decided needed to be in everything.
July 8th, 2024 - Gao, Republic of Mali - Bélah Rotisserie
One of the clansmen emerges from the cafe with a unassuming case that he hands to Roland. "If only we could be so blessed, your Majesty" he says, adding a slight bow towards Charlemagne.
Gheid, on the other hand, is less than pleased. You can tell from his face which is now screwed into a deep frown. He's gathered the documents and is quickly walking across the street towards his SUV. However, he isn't barking orders along the way so it appears that he has finally relented to Charlemagne.
Victor also takes a moment to place a hand gently on Fallas shoulder. "Listen Falla, this may be a dangerous situation" he says, indicating his phone "If these readings are accurate, there could be another Servant out there - or at least a major Phantasm. Whatever the case, it's close by. Be careful."
July 10th, 2024 - Novosibirsk, Russia - Traveler's Cafe
What Paul may lack in person he more than makes up for in his digital presence. He furiously cleaves his way into the network and disables the security cameras remotely. On top of that, he deletes the footage from both the cafe camera and the traffic light camera simultaneously.
Satisfied that he has effectively eliminated any record of their being there, Paul looks up from his phone. Sometimes the prevalence of the digital landscape can work in ones favor.
A black four door sedan pulls up to the curb next to Paul and Berserker. It has no marking and the windows are so dark that you can't possibly hope to see inside. Before you have a chance to react the rear window rolls down and you see Maceo. "Having fun?" he asks simply. To Berserker he seems just as pleasant as he had been earlier, but Paul has enough experience to recognize the glint of displeasure within his eyes.
"Fear not my king, I have the King of Paladins and his friend with me. I'll deal with the less...paranormal threats that such assaults always seem to entail."
Paul grins, weakly. He knew better than to try and magic this one away. He also knew that there was about a snowball's chance in hell that Marco hadn't been watching them since they left. "Yeah, about that... turns out, Mexican death goddesses and cheap-ass 24/7 Russian cafés don't mix. Who knew?"