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Fantasy The Order of Seven - accepting

Pascal frowned, his musctahe following suit, as Thaddeus began to shift. He knew runes were dangerous magic to handle, it hadn’t been the first time he’d witness a event like this before...

Unsheathing his dagger, which rested under his vest in a breast holster, he discarded his suit jacket. Rolling up his white sleeves, hopefully to prevent some sort of staining, his maroon vest and black tie stayed neatly intact. His eyes scanned the area quickly, the fighting almost in a slowed sense due to his vampire senses. Luckily for his senses, he was able to keep a fairly good tab on where the werewolf was, knowing if he encountered him it could end quite fatal. Spotting a cloak man, he ducked with precision, grabbing the cloaked man by his head, and quickly sliding the knife across his throat.

Hearing his name called, his keen hearing picked up the shout, as his eyes quickly followed the sound to Oliver. Giving the vampire a nod, smirking all the while, he quickly spotted another foe. Allowing the enemy to come at him, he quickly dodged the first silver blade attack, then barely parying the next, finally overpowering the man he dove his knife into his chest. Turning around to see Oliver behind him, taking the Colt. “I’m seventy years old, you really think I haven’t fired a gun?” Pascal scoffed as he tucked away his blade, choosing the ranged weapon. Spotting the Chancellor in the midst of a brawl, a cloaked figure rushing up behind her. He flicked the hammer back, and efficiently aimed it, pulling the trigger seconds later. The figure crumbled to the floor, as he gave a quick nod to the woman.

Hearing a loud clank, Pascal jumped to find a large array of knives on the ground, instead of a person which he had been expecting. “You seriously carry that many weapons on you? Mon Dieu!” Firing once more at a cloaked man, hitting him in his upper thigh, he collapsed quickly. Turning back to his vampire counterpart, he shouted. “We either need to get the putain out, or remove that rune from the wolves neck! We’re the only vampires here so we can leave fast, or try to stop Thaddeus. Either way, we need to do it quickly.”

CerpinTaxt CerpinTaxt SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
Edgar looked very angry now. A man trying to grab him, a shot straight through the head signalling Edgar had enough. The body of said man fell with a thud as Edgar stood straight now brandishing both of his pistols in hand, his eyes practically shadowed over.

"You should know better, than to interrupt a praying person. For now you see, this spot...Will mark your resting place." he said coldly his guns ready to shoot any invader attempting to separate him from Thaddeus and detain him. He was showing the side of the Order, how he fights in reality. To prove two main things to the others of the Order. His devotion, and his strength despite what many believe he lacked.

"Thaddeus. If you can understand me. Show me something. Anything. At this point, I don't care anymore. But I will not let another Order member die while I can help it. Even if you are a werewolf. Or transformed. Or any damned creature they want us to hunt, you are one of us now." he said firmly. Edgar's resolve shone forth and his eyes if they could be seen, were filled with pure animosity.

MJ ._. MJ ._. ForgottenName ForgottenName ReverseTex ReverseTex CerpinTaxt CerpinTaxt The Gunrunner The Gunrunner MrBossMan MrBossMan Fenris Fenris
 
Prenkus Lohmeyer

Thaddeus' request earns him a variety of protests. The first of which catches his attention, as a young boy yells his way with his weapon drawn. Prenkus could only stare in disbelief, more shocked than angry at such a reaction. Evidently, he is not the only one to feel such a way; another man stands, adding to the request that he is hauled away... But his ears grow deff to their protests, as unfamiliar figures make themselves known within the crowd. Men in dark suits, their faces unfamiliar, moving within the crowd. Behind him, one of such faces grab his shoulder and try to move him to his seat. Prenkus resists immediately, yelling a protest of his own: "Damn you, sirs, this can not wait!" He simply pushes the man's hand away, shoving him back. He vaguely thinks he can pick up Amberdale's voice, but the words do not meet him in his growing frustration. "Off, you! Lady Chancellor, plea-" he turns back to the scene, just in time to see Amberdale fix the pin to Thaddeus' chest. Immediately, something was wrong; Thaddeus' expression twists into pain and shock, but that was not all - Prenkus was close, or closer than the others. In his distance he could see the faint blue glow of something in his chest - The half-man staggers back, coiling over as he desperately claws at the spot. Amberdale takes a position near the Lady Chancellor, protectively holding a hand out to push her back - His silver blade was drawn.

The room explodes into carnage. Prenkus' head turns in near-disbelief as he sees those strange men beset members of the crowd, using everything from firearms to blade to hammers. But... there was more, he noticed. A wildlander was not new to such brutal displays, and indeed had a duty to meet such situations with an inquisitive eye. Indeed, there was brutality here, but... Not to everyone. He watched in, at first, confusion as these strange men would walk straight past members of the Order. Sometimes they would even push them out of the way, targetting another man. He was new to the city, but he had met a few of these men as per his transfer - He had read their dossiers. The objective of Lycaon's bane was clear before this day, thus it was not impossible to deduce their manner of target now... And as he looks back to Amberdale, he realizes that if something is not done soon then they will surely win.

Again, he feels a hand on his shoulder. Prenkus turns to meet the man, and his eyes behold a revolver pointed to his side. "To your seat, German," the voice was cold and threatening. Prenkus frowns, holding his hands to either side of his head. Suddenly, the man's arm goes limp and his revolver falls from the hand - His shoulder leaks with blood, a large round hole having made its presence in the flesh. "It's time to do our jobs, gentlemen!" Indeed it is, and Prenkus wastes no time, his frown curling into a sneer as he grabs the man's hair - His forehead smashes against the other's nose, drawing a river of blood from the broken cartilege. The opponent retaliates, throwing a clumsy punch. The old hunter meets it, taking it in one arm so the other can grasp his hand - Prenkus twists it outwards, stretching the man's wrist. He yells out in pain... But he was not yet dispatched. Prenkus grabs the hand with both of his, an animalistic growl escaping his lips as he suddenly forces it forward and twists the wrist beyond its limits. A sickening series of cracks sound out, and the aggressor screams in pain. As he twists the man's joint and bones, he feels his mind slip further and further into instincts - His ears ring with the sound of cracking firearms, hacking weapons, men yelling in rage or pain, the gurgling of those choking on blood. No, the opponent was not yet dispatched - Prenkus takes his hair again, swinging a knee into the bastard's face. He falls back, mouth smothered in his own blood, squirming on the ground trying to nurse his wounds. There. Finished.

Prenkus turns with the intent of seeing to Amberdale and Thaddeus. The latter of which was turning, hair growing to cover the runes in his chest. The young lad who'd questioned him earlier yells over the hall, his words largely tailored towards Thaddeus. "Dammit, choir boy! Get to the Chancellor yourself!" Prenkus reaches into his coat, but two things draw his attention - First, a clattering close behind him before an axe slides into his peripheral vision; second, nearby voices of which he is not familiar with, largely a series of "Come on!" and "Get him!" Prenkus turns, seeing two men who'd decided to take their chances in his fight with their comrade. The first holds a knife, the other now empty-handed. Prenkus looks to the axe, seemingly having missed its target - him - and decides to show them how it is done. He pulls up the axe, hearing Oliver's words as he arms himself; "Pascal! I suppose we're going to need to teach these kids a few lessons in proper hunting!" Prenkus straightens himself, pulling his arm back with the other held forward to aim. In the preparation, the two pick up speed. A mere three meters away, he hurls the axe forward - It finds purchase on one's chest, stopping him dead in his tracks as he falls backwards to howl in pain. The other looks at his now-fallen comrade, shocked, but zealously continues. That is, at first; the barrels of a shotgun have ways of discouraging bravery... A wildlander does not travel without his weapons. Prenkus jellifies the man's head under a thunderous blast, painting the marble floor behind him under a rough cone of gore. "Who are you calling a kid, boy!?" Prenkus yells over the hall, aiming the retort towards Oliver.

He turns back to the others, fitting his other hand with the heavy metal of his revolver. Amberdale was in on it, that much was clear, but his goal was trickery. Killing him could look bad to those ignorant of the truth, but leaving him there could endanger both Thaddeus and the Chancellor... Prenkus would have enjoyed ending such a traitor, but he would have to find comfort in other thoughts. The revolver's barrel rises, the metal clean and cold. He centers the barrel on the limb Amberdale has chosen to be armed with his silver blade. Thaddeus was in the final stages of his transformation, sharp claws birthing themselves through his fingers. Lord, please do not have me die in an English city. The weapon spouts a spark of fire, another crack to add to the room, and a bullet is sent for the limb Amberdale uses to hold his silver blade. “We either need to get the putain out, or remove that rune from the wolves neck! We’re the only vampires here so we can leave fast, or try to stop Thaddeus. Either way, we need to do it quickly."Fine with me! Everyone else, protect the targets! If they fall, these traitorous whoresons will have won!"
SilverFlight SilverFlight Fenris Fenris ReverseTex ReverseTex ForgottenName ForgottenName CerpinTaxt CerpinTaxt MJ ._. MJ ._.
 
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Mina Puccino

Mina felt the tension between hunters increasing and wondered if she knew a thing about these people she would know better how to cool the air. Then stood a gentleman to stop the ceremony by reasoning which was fated to fail as Thad’s small friend suddenly found enough courage in himself to draw his gun toward his fellow hunter for the sake of protecting an unnecessary ritual. She believed that if members of order wanted Thaddeus to be one of them, they would accept him even if his inauguration had been interrupted or left undone. She watched how presence of a ready to shoot pistol had brought more tension to the atmosphere; now more attendants were ready to use their weapons. She watched baffled face of the werewolf who obviously had no idea what was going on until he got it on the chest. Mina found it weird that the old hunter was in such hurry to pin the werewolf but after the blue light shinned and Thad began to change, she got it all. A bunch of new forces wrapped in black cloak ran through the crowd and soon a fight between men was ignited. As she could see from where she had sat, invaders had aimed only for those members of order who cared about the werewolf. Fortunately, she wasn’t one of them. They way she had sat indifferently watching the show, they couldn’t consider her a wolf fan. And she probably wasn’t initially.

In the first minutes of the brawl, she witness vampires killing at least three men and inactive more than that. The other members she had seen around the leader before were fighting lethally as well but some of them were already injured. Even the pastor-hunter who was trying to call Thaddeus back into his senses killed a man and rambled over it. Min said she’s had enough. When she decided to lend her power and skills to Cartwright she didn’t expect killing men but now their blood had stained everywhere; hunter against hunter.

“We either need to get the putain out, or remove that rune from the wolves neck! We’re the only vampires here so we can leave fast, or try to stop Thaddeus. Either way, we need to do it quickly.


"Fine with me! Everyone else, protect the targets! If they fall, these traitorous whoresons will have won!"


She had heard the clues she needed; to stop the bloodshed or at least decrease victims, she needed to take the werewolf out of sight. She didn’t have time to search a beast for a pin so decided to knock him out first then tame him later as she usually did. Having a short time to get in action, she kicked the cloaked man in front of her, who was distracted by defiance of members of order, precisely enough to cut his hope from having more children, then threw her and Thad’s chairs toward closest traitors for distraction and dashed toward Thaddeus faster than expected from a human. Before passing Edgar, she jumped up highly and landed with a hard kick on back of the big wolf’s head. If she succeeded to land her hit, the Thaddeus would faint and she had the chance to find the pin and pull it out.
SilverFlight SilverFlight Fenris Fenris ReverseTex ReverseTex ForgottenName ForgottenName CerpinTaxt CerpinTaxt The Gunrunner The Gunrunner
 
Edgar jumped back and suddenly rushed the female throwing her back a bit just to distance herself and Thaddeus, holding his guns over each other aiming them at her standing in front of Thaddeus and negating her attack. He looked as though he would shoot her or at her at any second if she took any step or movement towards Thaddeus.

"BACK. AWAY!!" he yelled at her sounding furious. "You think of yourself a good person to attack an ally?! How dare you!" he said adding more insult to injury looking very combative.

Edgar landed another shot behind the girl, one of the same cloaked gentleman trying to attack from behind. At least he had the honor of doing that, regardless of him brandishing his weapons at her ready to fire at will.

MJ ._. MJ ._. ForgottenName ForgottenName ReverseTex ReverseTex CerpinTaxt CerpinTaxt The Gunrunner The Gunrunner MrBossMan MrBossMan Fenris Fenris
 
The hall exploded into pure pandemonium. At first the hunters of the order began to recoil from Thaddeus, aiming swords, daggers and pistols at the wolf, however many of their attentions were turned quickly to the men attacking them from the rear most rows, making their way progressively downwards, aiming to kill.
They fought for their lives now, the wolf quite put out of the minds of many. Not all it seemed as Edgar rushed straight into the center of the room, reaching his arms out on either side of Thaddeus' massive jaws.
The wolf shied from him, snapping at the air between them, but as Edgar called his name he shook his head angrily, as if trying to cast something out of his mind. Edgar kept trying and suddenly a pair of bright golden eyes fixed on his. The wolf's mouth parted and for a moment he seemed to calm. Then he bared his dagger fangs and lunged. Thaddeus would barrel straight into Edgar if he didn't move, but the target for his teeth stood behind the boy. A cloaked man stood, dagger raised and poised to plunge into Edgar's neck. The man went down, scream cut short under a sickening crunch of bone. Thaddeus tossed the corpse aside like a rag doll, blood now soaking the fur about his jaws.
Suddenly Edgar was between him and Mina, the woman's intentions hostile. Thaddeus snarled with rage and charged her, straight past Edgar, aiming to trample her under the weight of his claws.
ForgottenName ForgottenName MJ ._. MJ ._.

~~~

Amberdale continued to brandish the silver blade at Thaddeus as he pushed the chancellor away.
"Amberdale, get the others to safety. I'm going to shift."
"Nonsense!" The man barked, "He's at the peak of health, you're reaching seventy. He'd kill you."
the chancellor tried to twist from his grip, but he tightened it, firmly, painfully against her arm.
"You are not leaving." He spat angrily, and suddenly the chancellor did not believe that he had drawn his silver sword to fight Thaddeus...
Just then a revolver shot sounded and Amberdale felt a sting in his arm, she fumbled the weapon but did not drop it. His hold on the chancellor was like a vice, but now his other arm was wounded and he would be slower to attack.
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Edgar gasped and called. "Thaddeus!!" as he ran at him swiftly to try to do something. Regardless of what would happen to the girl, it would ruin his reputation if he hurt someone of the order jumping unto Thaddeus' back and holding him from behind his guns noticeably tossed aside.

"Thaddeus! I know you can hear me! Please!" he called seeming to understand the wolf's hesitation and almost protection of Edgar despite the savagery of the episode he was having. Despite all the pandemonium and fear and hysteria, hunters fought incredibly for their own reasons. Some for their own gain, their own motives, or even to attack Thaddeus, but Edgar wasn't allowing it even making himself a target at this rate with his connection and unwavering resolve to help him.

It was happening all over again for Edgar, he could smell the blood and fear in the air from those who did truly fear, especially himself. He could see the savagery that nearly over consumed him during his time of revenge against the familial beast he once knew. And now, it was Edgar who was fear stricken, his hold on Thaddeus waning a bit, his post trauma catching up to him and filling his head with visions of blood, screams, fighting, the tearing of clothes, the feeling of gripping hands, and it was becoming all too much for him.

SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
"Iona!" Jonathan called aloud as he opened the wooden door. Laying face down on the cold stone floor was Iona. For an instant Jon's heart stopped beating, his feet wouldn't move, then snapping out of his trance he ran to her side and scooped the small woman up in his arms. Her blonde hair was hanging lazily down his arm as he seemingly tried to shake her awake, not knowing how bad her condition was. His hands roughly squeezing her cheeks and checking her pulse as he made a silent prayer to God. He took a quick glance all about her body and didn't notice anything unusual. That is until he looked inside her cold, sleepfull eyes, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Upon her forehead was an obvious rune, of what exactly he didn't know. Jonathan was never taught runes, in fact he tried to stay clear of magic in general. She had a pulse, she was breathing albeit softly, Jonathan could feel the life of her in his arms.

He patted her hair back with his thumb then traced it over the rune on her forehead. Wiping it clean because it didn't belong on her body, not in his eyes. Luckily Jonathan did the right thing even if he had not known how to. After the rune was scrubbed clean he started to feel her breathing escalate in his arms. "Iona," he said much softer than he intended "wake the hell up woman." He looked around him and suddenly he remembered exactly why he was here.

Sir Amberdale

Surely he didn't do this? Why?

"Iona!"
 
Mina was truly surprised by Edgar throwing her away from her target. "Have you lost it?!" She questioned him scornfully but the fragile man seemed to be out of his right mind.
"BACK. AWAY!!" he yelled at her sounding furious. "You think of yourself a good person to attack an ally?! How dare you!"
Edgar's voice sounded like a screaming rat in Mina's ears. She could understand him but didn't expect such way of thinking from a man. For her it was act of a child to take such position in a mayhem like that. So she had to try to reason with him like a child although she had lost her chance of sudden strike and cloaked men had found out that she wasn't going to be a mere bystander which mean Mina was their target too.
"You're not doing him a favor. If he understands you, just tell him to lay down and let you pluck the pin out of his skin..."
Her sentence was cut by the bullet Edgar shoot which missed her by inches and she heard corpse of her potential murderer hitting the floor. But the threat wasn't only behind her. Her eyes focused on the large wolf that had prepared to attack her directly. It was interesting that he still was trying to avoid his friend. He passed the smaller guy like wind and charged at her. Soon his paw was above her head while the other man was begging him to stop and the old hunter who had triggered to game was approaching them with silver blade. But Mina couldn't feel bad about the current situation. She had gained her dancing ground sooner than what she could even imagine. With a swift move, she span on her heel and the big paw slammed on the floor in front of her. Her next move was leaping on beast's back and locking her arms around his neck. Surely she couldn't hurt him like that, but just like taming a wild horse or riding a bull, she had clung to the wolf like glue and was sure that was able to handle him as she was a woman who had tamed bears that way.
"Listen Mr. Grey... your friend... Edgar... thinks you have the brain to... understand. So... just run.... run and save your friends... they'll fight better... if you're out of here... I'm not going to... hurt you... just want to... pull that... cursed pin... out..."
She spoke to Thaddeus between gritted teeth as struggled against the wolf trying to threw her aside.
 
While Prenkus and Edgars conflict raised the tension in the room to almost unbearable levels, it was Thaddeus sudden transformation which turned the ordered ceremony into a chaotic battlefield with a booming howl. Guns went off not feet away drowning out the calls for order and pleas of help.

A burly man spun Alexander around by the shoulder but hesitated when he noted the silver pin in his hand. The moment of hesitation was all the duelist needed to bring up his knee but before finishing his opponent with a downward blow another body collided with him, carrying both of them through a row of chairs. Surprisingly they landed near a pile of knives Alex was certain had not been there just moments earlier. Once again not questioning his luck the hunter proved the quicker, coming back to his feet with bloodied knife in one hand, and drawing his saber with the other. It was a decorative piece, not weighted for combat nor possessing a keen silver edge but it would do for now.

Around him a pair of men laid about themselves with unbridled furry, gunshots lighting the hall with sudden flashes and booming echo's. While Alexander felt a twinge of envy at their display marksmanship, he was also rather confident neither of them required aid. With a quick nod of thanks to the pair he announced, “I'll get the chancellor.” hoping the pair might give him some cover.

Blades drawn Alex rushed off toward chancellor Cartwright and Amberdale, earlier disbelief turned to cold anger at the betrayal. With the immediate approach cleared by a giant wolf and his involuntary rider it didn't take him long to reach the pair and take note of the situation. “Unhand the lady; traitor!” Alex demanded, closing the distance and preparing a lunging strike which would hopefully occupy Amberdale's blade with a defensive parry.
 
Iona was floating, drifting along an invisible current when suddenly there was a soft murmuring. The murmur grew into a voice and slowly, Iona began to come back to her senses.
"Iona!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, her head was pounding.
"Yell a' me again, end I'll punch ye in the nose." She threatened the person on the periphery of her senses with a thick Scottish accent. Suddenly she noticed the sensation of actually being off the ground. Someone was holding her. He eyes snapped open fully now and she saw Jon looking down at her.
"Let me go, ye great ape." She struggled to her feet, smoothed her coat and cast about the room.
"Son of a bitch has taken my runes." She turned back to Jon, "It's Amberdale, he attacked me, I think he's gonnae do somethin' te Thaddeus."
A piercing howl chilled her to the bone, and answered her all to clearly.
"Let's go." She said, wasting no time in heading for the door. She was still unsteady on her feet however and teetered, grabbing the door frame for support. Another string of colourful words later she was moving again.
MrBossMan MrBossMan

Thaddeus snarled with frustration as both hunters were now perched firmly on his back. He whipped his head around, teeth flashing inches from their legs, then he began to buck and writhe. The words Mina and Edgar spoke were drowned out by the roaring of blood in his ears and the rage the beast drove him to. Suddenly Thaddeus ran at the tiered seats, aiming to slam his side into them and crush both unwanted riders in the splintered wreckage.
ForgottenName ForgottenName MJ ._. MJ ._.

Amberdale swore at the wound in his shoulder, he traced the line of fire to catch sight of Prenkus, eyes trained on him. Another shout forced him to look around. One of the other task force now stood in front of him.
"Unhand the lady; traitor!"
Amberdale's mind raced, he could feign ignorance, but the look in Prenkus' eye told him they knew, and they would attack him in the chaos, his shield of common civility had been undone by his own hand.
He gave a quick shout and gestured towards both Prenkus and Alex and pairs of cloaked men dashed for them.
The man closest to Prenkus lashed out with the butt of a silver cutlass, aiming to bring it down on the Prussian's skull, while the man headed for Alex began to draw his revolver.
Fenris Fenris The Gunrunner The Gunrunner
 
Between sliding to the safe side of the wolf and letting go of his neck to save hers, Mina chose the third option; she grabbed his fur by one hand and search under it by the other as Thaddeus was busy calculating his move toward side of the hall to crash then against chair and wall. Her fingers moved in the dark sea of fur till touched the pin in the critical second before the crash, so she grabbed hard on the pin and released her other grip. Due to sudden turn of the wolf to aim his back toward the wall, Mina was tossed the opposite direction but, unfortunately, she couldn't manged to take the cursed rune pin with her. She sled rather long way on the bloody floor before getting on her feet angry with herself. She was worried about the other hunter who was trying to stop Thaddeus but it wasn't time to look away as the unknown foe had used the chance to aim her head. Quickly, she grabbed a dark cloak left on the floor in front of her and held the corps attached to it in front of her as a shield. Whether the cloaked man was dead or alive, he got fiendish bullets for her and she snatched his gun to shoot from above his shoulder at the man who had shot her. Mina ended the guy in three shots and waited to see what was going to come at her next. If nothing came, which was unexpected, she would tackle the cloaked force gladly as they had already made it personal by shooting her.
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Prenkus Lohmeyer

Prenkus stared deeply into Amberdale, a dark contempt in his eyes. Alexander's voice shows he has joined the fray, lunging for their traitor with a knife. Amberdale's expression shows recognition - They knew. He shouts for help, and gestures to the two. Prenkus turns, seeing pairs close in on them. One was close, and he aims to bring the butt of his cutlass on the Prussian's skull. But he is not so easy to catch - His legs extend outwards, curving the body enough to dodge the strike by mere inches. He comes back, punching the two barrels against the man's chest. "Die." he spouts, his eyes vacant of any semblence of mercy, and fires a thunderous blast through the man's chest. Blood and bone-matter spray out the back and front in near-equal measure, caking Prenkus' chest in the man's death. A bullet rings out at that, smacking the bleeding body in the shoulder. Prenkus ducks his head, seeing a man drawing his weapon on Alexander - The Prussian's movements run more on instinct and muscle memory than thought, the revolver centering on the offender's chest and cracking a bullet for his flesh. "I will deal with Amberdale's gang, you get that bastard!" he yells to Alexander.

There were others closing in, some armed with guns and others without. Prenkus' human cover takes another bullet, this time coming through the dead thing's shoulder in a near-hit. He shoves the corpse off of him, hopping back in a tilt just as the swing of an axe breezes past his nose. The man is rewarded with a shot from the revolver, first startling him, and another to ruin the knee. Prenkus tosses the shotgun, filling his palm with his other revolver. He did not have the foresight to bring spare ammunition with him, not expecting such a fight. The old hunter would have to arm himself with the fallen weapons of their assailants, which meant one thing in particular: There is killing to be done.

Prenkus shifts, light on his feet, movements creating the hybrid of a dancer and an animal. His arm blurs against the hammer of his revolver, himself turning on his heels, a target beset by bullets the moment one is found - He shifts and slides from those who choose to close in with melee, focusing his attention on those who prefer to fight at a range. "Bastard!" one yells, trying to close the Prussian in with the help of a comrade. There is a swing, and he shifts back in a dodge - Another swing, so he dodges into the other companion again. They collide, Prenkus taking the fall and sending two bullets to the second fighter. They hit the floor, Prenkus on top, and he turns the iron against the man's forehead. The crack rings in Prenkus' ears, causing a wince of pain, but he rolls to a stand just as he sees more closing on him. Prenkus was always light on his feet, and now they could learn the meaning of that. A shot blows the back of a man's brains through his skull, limp fingers dropping the revolver to the ground, just as he dodges the thrust of one with a knife. For another, the first shot misses as he shifts back from the swing of a club, until Prenkus blurs a hand against the hammer to destroy the man's body in a brutal crimson correction. When he falls, Prenkus dives for the man's weapon - He rolls in the movement, bullets pecking the floor around him, the now-empty iron ditched in the move and quickly filled with the enemy's piece. One of the melee-fighters was quick, and about to close in, before a shot hits him in the jaw. "Die," he says again, fury thick in his tone. He pushes himself up, moving about the floor with shot after shot. The flash of his weapons circle his body, as he turns again and again, ensuring that no one - no matter where they were - was safe in their approach. Prenkus moves and fires again and again, forming a 360 degrees of moving death. Those at the front of a pair would be downed to slow those in the back, if he was cornered then he would open a path and slip through before the gap could be filled, if there was one with a revolver then those preferring melee were used as cover. The Prussian's eyes and face darkened more and more to show a man losing himself in battle, a roar slowly building within him as he fires again and again. Moving from the attempts at close-quarters to punish the man in a hail of lead, downing assailants for their insolence or their weapons. They were either traitors or supplies, and he treated them like nothing more. "Die!" he yells, ditching an empty pistol to blur his hand against the other - Three men are beset under a sudden hail of bullets "Die, die!" The weapon clicks empty - In fury, he throws it at one of the other attackers. It winds him, but doesn't slow him down... No matter. Prenkus reaches into his coat again, procuring his second shotgun and a small knife - The man stops in his tracks, too far a distance to chance it, and the shotgun shreds his chest. Another loses his zeal, turning in a panic to get behind one of the ranged fighters, until his back is peppered with lead.

Both the shotgun's barrels smoke, empty, and he drops it to the floor. "He's out! Get him!" A man says, two coming for the hunter. Prenkus flips the knife, holding the blade between two fingers - He aims with the other arm, and the weapon flies forward for the closest fighter. Steel sticks him in the chest, stunning him for a moment but not yet killing him. Prenkus is upon him in an instant, wrapping his fingers around the knife and pulling it free - He stabs him again and again, painting them both in blood. "No one survives!" he yells, before shoving the dying body into the other fighter. They both stumble back, and Prenkus leaps forward. He grabs the other's weapon-arm, cutting a vicious gash along the vein before kicking them both back. "Every fucking one of you!" His face, chest, hands, and arms are painted in blood - It leaks from what was once a gentleman's attire, making small droplets on the floor where he steps. But still he is not done, using anything he can find to continue his battle against these men - A red demon flying about on his feet, killing from just out of reach.
 
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"It's not my fault I carry all those knives. You never know what needs to be carved." Oliver joked as he dodged attack after attack from the oncoming assailants, responding to one of the attackers with a swift uppercut with his ax, a sickening crack as the head of the ax connected with the mans jaw. Using the mans body, which currently was in its final throes of life, as a shield he covered himself from a different man's attack from a shotgun, pellets colliding into the dying man's body. The man with the shotgun had back up apparently, as a small group of four rushed Oliver. Oliver could tell these newcomers had hunted vampires before. Their formation, the fact they were attacking in a group and not singularly, even their posture was indicative of their experience. "That one! He'll be a fine trophy for us!" Oh this would be quite an amusing little match up. "Who are you calling boy?!" Oliver retorted back at Prenkus, deciding to egg the man on.

Oliver dropped the man onto the ground along with his now unloaded Colt, grabbing the sturdy hammer he'd been using as a weapon. His moves were swift and almost berserk-like, looking quite similar to how a frenzied vampire or one that lived in the wilderness fought. Most certainly Prenkus or any other experienced hunter would recognize it. Oliver allowed one of the men to stab at him, countering the stab by moving his ax towards the blade and embedding the sharp metal into the wood and causing it to become stuck. "Pascal! We're going for the wolf! Find a big hammer!" His voice was calm despite his shouting, his true focus now on the fight he was in. A swift kick had caused one of the men to fly backwards like the one had done previously only for him to connect with his comrade, causing them both the fall onto the wooden floor. That man from earlier had given him an idea, but he couldn't act upon it until these nuisances were gone. Using his hammer, he threw it towards the only man armed with a gun. The hammer hit the man square in the chest, enough force behind it to cause the man to have the wind knocked out of him and collapse onto his back.

Oliver didn't have the luxury of taking his time with these men. He had to act fast. Ripping the ax free of the mans blade, he swiftly ducked the frantic slash the cloaked man made and retailed with a swift ax strike to their spine. The two who were currently attempting to get back on their feet were next with Oliver closing in on the two in mere moments. They were easily dispatched, never having the time or balance to fight back as the ax struck their bodies again and again, tearing and destroying their bodies. Oliver looked at the only armed man of the group, a look of despair and horror on his face. "We..no! This wasn't supposed to go like this!"[/COLOR] He cried out, attempting to crawl away from the carnage. Oliver grinned as he approached the last man, his walking speed much faster than the man's crawling. Oliver brought the ax down on the man's knee, a loud snap as it entered deep into their leg. Oliver dragged the now screaming man toward him a few feet, ripping the ax from the man and striking into their thigh to bring him the rest of the way to Oliver.

"Maybe you should have just stuck to the dogs." Oliver mocked him before bringing his canine's down on the mans neck and feeding off of him. Oliver took what he needed and dropped the now lifeless man, looking back at Pascal and returning to the French man. Finding the largest hammer he could carry, he gestured to the transformed Thaddeus as he flailed about near the chairs. "Right..we get close to him. When I say go, we're going to slam these hammers down and screw up the floor, hopefully cause it to collapse where that heavy mutt is. Hopefully he'll fall a small ways, might even get knocked out." Oliver figured the quick rundown was enough, figuring the plan was flaky at best. There was a huge chance this could backfire.

Oliver sprinted towards the large wolf, hammer in hand as he dodged splinters of wood from the chairs. His eyes narrowed as he spotted Mina get thrown off of him, but Edgar was still clutching onto the over-sized dog. "Get off the dog, choir boy! You might get hurt if he lands on you! Only warning!" Oliver shouted over the violence and gunfire, readying his hammer once he was somewhat close to Thaddeus. He jestured to Pascal and rose his hammer, bringing it down with as much force as his vampiric strength could create onto the wooden floor.

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Edgar held and shot towards Oliver in an attempt to disarm the hammer not knowing his intentions with it.
"You hurt Thaddeus and you answer to me! Gentleman or not!" He called pulling at the new found sigil as hard as he could knowing it would pain Thaddeus; but it had to be done.
"Im sorry..ARGH!!" he yelped being slammed into a nearby post falling off unconscious nearby Thaddeus. It was clear he had been quite injured; blood leaking from his forehead and his noticeable intense struggle to stay conscious.

It was surprising to see Edgar try and getup showing his real strength was belied by his enigma of a personality. However; Edgar fell aside unconscious and noticeably bleeding from a wound on his side; most likely from one of Thaddeus"s claws if not else from someone's weapon crimson puddles forming under Edgar"s nice clothing and unto the floor, a threatening notice on the boy's life becoming apparent. "Tha...ddeu...ss.." he managed falling prey to his wounds.

Despite his foolishness, it was the right thing to do; as the Order did specify others were of great importance brothers and sisters of the Order. Coinciding for the chance to liberate those whom are too weak to do it themselves.


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The remnants of Lycaon's Bane began to shy from Prenkus as, gore-painted and near-mad with rage he struck an intimidating figure.
The Order members, once taken completely by surprise began to rally, the injured were defended, the fit fighting like devils. Slowly the tide was beginning to turn.
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Thaddeus collided with the tiered seating in a shower of splinters. The floor cracked with the hammer's brutal strike, giving way like water under the wolf's gargantuan weight. He sank down to the stone beneath, jagged pieces of broken floorboards piercing the soft skin under his limbs and pinning him. Struggling brought waves of pain shooting up his legs, but he only slowed his thrashing when his gold eyes fell upon the young hunter, thrown from his back and lying bleeding on the floor beside him.
The wolf was still snarling, but this was now broken by periods of nervous whining as his great head shifted to Edgar and back around the room. The glowing rune blade was visible now, blood soaking the fur about Thaddeus' hackles and thinning it, exposing the weapon.
If someone tried to approach him now without a way to subdue his vicious jaws, they would likely be torn to pieces. Still however, Edgar was well within striking range, and the wolf hadn't touched him.
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Oliver couldn't help but grin as the floor near him cracked and gave way, the large wolf falling onto the stone floor beneath. "Looks like it wasn't a bad plan after all!" In reality, there were certainly better ways this could have been handled, and he was certain Iona wasn't going to be pleased with the vampire once she saw the state of things. Oliver kept his distance from the edge of the hole as he peered into the relatively short hole in the floor along with Pascal, hammer still in his hands as he observed the situation. It look like the wolf had gotten pinned from the floorboards he'd landed on and causing great pain to poor Thaddeus. "Poor bastard. Regardless..he'll live, once he's subdued." His eyes wandered to Edgar's limp body, narrowing them a bit. "As for you..I'm not so certain. Though I'm going to have quite a few choice words for you once if you live from this. To even think of shooting at a comrade..utterly distasteful." With that, Oliver stepped down the short hole, taking care not to step on Thaddeus' tail or anything of the sort.

Oliver noted the reduced thrashed from Thaddeus as he looked at the unfortunate man laying nearby. "While I know talking to you is useless, I suppose you feel some sort of guilt for this whole thing, yeah?" The vampire hollered at the beast, readying the large hammer as he moved towards the beast from behind, leaping upwards to land on his side/back as he moved the hammer to intercept the beasts jaws. The plan was to use the long, metal handle of the hammer and ram it against the back of Thaddeus' mouth where the upper and lower jaw connected. This would hopefully prevent the beast from manipulating its head or mouth easily, combined with the fact that Oliver was using gravity to help keep the beast as still as possible. Meanwhile, using Oliver as a sort of distraction, Pascal moved to where the rune blade was, the old vampire grabbing hold of the hilt of the blade and pulling back in an attempt to free it from Thaddeus. "Just look at the choir boy! Focus on him!" Oliver shouted at the beast, attempting to manipulate its head so he would be forced to look at Edgar. Not exactly the nicest way to force cooperation, but it was his best bet to save the both of them.

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Mina Puccino

Having no desire to spill human blood more than what already had spelt, Mina was glad that traitors had almost been pushed back. After shooting at some persistent ones, which she wasn’t sure if her bullets had hit the bull’s eye, she found it safe to move from her cover behind racked chairs and staked bodies and rushed by Edgar’s side which had fallen rather near the wolf with a bleeding open wound. “This boy is a goner if not patched up now…” She told anyone special and felt she could stay beside the victim as two or three hunters of order where trying to get close to Thaddeus and pull the rune blade out of his body. She reached into large pockets inside her oversized coat and took several small pouches out of them. Setting the small bags of mixed herbs on the floor, she was going to uncover Edgar’s wound when Oliver invited the wolf to focus on his fallen friend. Mina looked daggers at the reckless guy. “Are you going to feed him to the wolf? Don’t agitate him to attack us. I can’t move this boy here… he might have broken some bones…” She spoke loudly to Oliver then tossed a green pouch toward him. “If you manage to have him eat it, he’ll be dizzy for a while not being able to use his senses and move accurately. He’s heavy so that won’t work more than a few minutes.” She explained then went back to her nursing task. After removing the cloth from the gash, she poured a grey powder on the bloody wound till it was totally covered and bleeding stopped. Next, she readied a needle and string to stitch him up. The string she used was kept clean in herbal oil but was originally made of cotton and Edgar was going to look like a ragged doll for a while.
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Noting movement at the edge of his vision following the traitors gesture coaxed forth a string of curses in Alexander's native tongue. Spinning mid motion caused him to come up short on his charge, instead fully revealing another cloaked figures appearance and this one was drawing a gun on him. Despite the confidence the young man placed in his swordplay he knew himself at a deadly disadvantage. The curses pouring from his mouth changed, a deeper inflection for an older language; one latent with unseen power and ultimately silenced by a black powder roar.

For a moment time stood still as both men starred at each other in surprise before the gunman collapses, crimson bloom spreading across his chest. "I will deal with Amberdale's gang, you get that bastard!" Prenkus voice seeming almost angelic in that brief moment despite the gruff tone. Relieved Alex replied, “With pleasure.” Once more focusing on Amberdale and taking a slower approach, paying more attention to the surroundings lest another member of the Lycaon's Bane appear. Further off the pair from earlier, Oliver and Pascal had managed to trap the transformed Thaddeus while two smaller figures rested near those deadly fangs. He hadn't caught their name but certainly applauded their bravery for daring to get so close, a feat few enough could muster.

Having taken in the scene Alexander's eyes snapped toward the chancellor once again. The silver blade still hovering dangerously close, the man once friend turned foe, root of this betrayal. He couldn't help himself, “Why? Why spread death among our own? Smother the light when there is not but darkness all around?” the words as much accusation as question, never halted his cautious advance. Perhaps they would evoke a response, an opening to slip his blade through the others guard or at least buy some more time for the chancellor Cartwright, a few more moments for the others to swing the fight. His stance was one of practiced ease, even as his every nerve tensed with the intention to strike.
 
Thaddeus thrashed and rolled his head, but the hammer lodged firm, jamming between his jaw and the roof of his mouth. For one short moment, his chest was unguarded and the blade came free in a spurt of red blood. Something returned to Thaddeus' eyes, a calm, intelligence and he inhaled deeply. A quick motion of his tongue flipped the hammer away harmlessly. Drowsy and weak he pulled one of hie forelegs free and slowly, very slowly began to shrink back to his human form. His clothes were torn in many places and soaked in blood. Smashed wooden floorboards rained in about him and, pale and shaking violently he forced himself to crawl from the depression in the floor. The sharp taste of iron flooded his mouth and made his stomach turn. His memories were blurry, flashes of what had happened dancing across his mind, allowing him to piece together some idea of what was going on. "W-what have I done?"
Then he caught sight of Mina by Edgar, the boy laying motionless on the floor, the gash in his side covered in Mina's healing powder. "Oh God. Edgar, can you hear me?" He looked at the others, "did I scratch him?" His voice was becoming desperate. "Please, did someone see? Did I give him that gash on his side?!"
It was fairly common knowledge that Lycanthropy was passed through a werebeast's claws. If the gash had come from his, Edgar would turn within a day, and he would be cast from the order to undertake the werebeast's trial.
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Amberdale snarled in frustration as his men fell to the hunters around him. The look he have Alex was laced with pure venom.
"Are you blind to the rot growing in this damned organization? Allowing those cursed animals to live freely among humans? To invite them into the Order?!" He spat vehemently. "They are a blight, a disease eating away at London's strength. It is our duty to purge it, and if you're not going to help, then you are part of the problem."
Chancellor Cartwright's face tightened, hearing Amberdale's confession. Her expression grew dark with purpose. She locked eyes with Alexander, when he moved, she would try to break away.
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Iona jogged through the doors, which opened onto a scene of pure chaos. She just witnessed Thaddeus as a wolf slam bodily into the wood seats, tossing Edgar to the ground.
"Bloody Hell." She mumbled in disbelief.
Her eyes blazed with anger when she saw Amberdale, a man she had followed, had obeyed without question for so long, now holding a silver blade to the chancellor's heart.
"I need my runes back." She said definitively, moving to pick up a blade that had been in the hand of a now dead Bane soldier.
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Prenkus Lohmeyer

The tide was turning, slowly but surely. It was a fact Prenkus only noticed after wrenching an axe from a downed man's skull, looking around with a madness in his eyes, huffing and puffing like some ravenous animal. The remnants were watching him with horror or caution, slowly backing away from him. It was a second of breath that brought some semblance of sanity back to the old hunter, looking behind them to see the other members of the Task Force showing how The Order treats conspiracy. "Who are you calling boy?!" It was a comment that made Prenkus twitch, sniffing as he wipes away a splatter of blood from his eyes. "Anyone who can't kill more than an old man!" The remnants were just a bit too slow in their retreat for Prenkus' liking, thus he suddenly throws the newly acquired axe to the slowest of the number. His eyes go wide in shock, and he picks up speed but far too late, before the blade snaps through his ribs and sends him to the floor - His lungs fill with blood, and he squirms on the ground clutching the wound, breaths rasped and gurgling. "Don't slow yourselves down!"

Prenkus' attention is grabbed as Thaddeus falls through the wooden floor, the hulking wolf locked in place with only the head able to fight them now. Oliver came up to the semi-subdued beast, splitting his interests to simultaneously shaming Edgar as much as position the hammer to lock the beast's jaws. In truth... Prenkus had little complaint to his objectives. He snorts, taking a revolver from the ground - Its wielder, squirming and crying over his broken wrist and open nose. Prenkus holds the weapon over his shoulder, pulling the hammer back. At that point, the remnants who'd dared try themselves against him and Alexander get the message - They hurry off, not keen on enduring further slaughter. Prenkus nods his approval, lowering the barrel on them. The Order's investigation to this matter was given a great boon, much to the contrary of Amberdale's expectations he was sure, but they would still need to gather information... just to be safe. An interrogation was sure to follow, requiring at least some of the members to be alive for the practice. That is, Some.


Many of the conspiracists had died in the fight, but not quite enough. Prenkus squints an eye, focusing over the notched sights of the revolver, aiming down on those retreating - He fires the first barrel, a man tumbling over as the shot squares him a few inches from his spine. Prenkus frowns, the hammer clicking back again - A second shot, the man falling over and screaming as blood leaks around the fingers clutching his now-wounded leg. The third man's head nearly pops, his scalp hanging by flapping skin. The fourth man stumbles, falling over as his comrades are simply gunned down - a fatal mistake - as a shot pierces his throat and fills his windpipe with blood. The fifth man stops, concluding there was no use in running, and turns - The look in his eyes told he wasn't sure what he believed he could do, seeing no benefit to begging to such a man but not yet willing to accept death either. The closest thing to mercy in that room is then granted to him, a shot breaking through the side of his pelvis. The pain is excruciating, and the gut-wrenching scream he unleashes certainly reveals that, but there was... a /chance/ he would live. Probably. Possibly. Another empty revolver is dropped to the wood, the smoking iron clunking against the ground, and Prenkus turns to Amberdale. Him and Alexander had, presumably, been fighting during his own battle. With Prenkus' part concluded, he decided it was time to assist his comrade in taking the one who'd started this mayhem.

The Prussian takes two items from the ground as he approaches them, droplets of blood marking every step: A cutlass, from the man who'd first tried to knock him out; and his own knife, the blade chipped from being retrieved and thrown with such repetition. He approaches the two, the blade of the cutlass over his shoulder and the bloodied knife firmly grasped in a crimson hand. The Prussian simply stares at the two at first, his muscles and joints tired from the carnage he'd just moments ago enacted. The feeling was kept internal, his outward appearance depicting an aura of savagery to blur the line between Cursed and Human. He does not speak, merely observing. Alexander questions why, bringing a sneer to Prenkus' painted face; Traitors do not deserve to speak. Regardless, Amberdale explains himself - That is, he raves and rants like an angry child. 'Blight,' 'Animals,' 'Disease.' It was a line of thinking all-too familiar. Prenkus steps up to Alexander's side, nodding slowly to the other Prussian, before handing him the retrieved cutlass - "I think this will serve you better, as your knife will serve me better." Whatever the conclusion of the exchange, the elder begins walking a short 40 degrees to Amberdale's near-flank before speaking - His voice plain and filled with contempt: "You should have remained on angry glares, Amberdale."
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Oliver let out a sigh of relief once Thaddeus began reverting back, setting the hammer down on the stone floor. Noticing just how damaged the mans clothes were, Oliver slid his tattered mess of a cloak off his shoulders, tossing it to the side of Thaddeus. "Here, you might want this." His eyes went from the unconscious Edgar to the now visibly desperate Thaddeus as he pleaded with the others as to the fate of Edgar. "I'm pretty sure a knife did it.." Oliver trailed off, now realizing he had no actual idea as to what caused the gash. "Well claw wounds should be rather distinctive when compared to a knife or something." Oliver wasn't quite as sure as he wanted to be. The reality of Thaddeus being the likely culprit was setting in to his mind. "Here..how about I do a little search around the area? Maybe I can find whatever caused it. Though I wouldn't hold your breathe on it...I'd personally prepare yourself for the worst." Oliver began to kick away pieces of debris from the immediate area, pieces of wood scattering around the area. "Honestly though..I'd get that wound fully visible and conclude from there."

Finding a specific bloody piece of wood or weapon in a wooden sea of bloody wood was honestly an impossible feat. Though Oliver did get an idea as he picked up a blood covered knife. He pressed his gloved finger against the blade and pulled back leaving a small bit of blood on his fingertip. He put the fingertip to his mouth, tasting the blood and attempting to discern its taste. Theoretically, a werewolf and a human would taste different, wouldn't it? Oliver never exactly tasted a werewolf's blood, and while he was certain the others would reach the answer to Edgar's fate before he did, it's not as if he had any better ideas. Theoretically he could find the culprit of the gash by taste and finding the most potential candidates, in terms of size and such.

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Edgar suddenly began to move, groaning heavily in pain. "Th..Tha...Tha...ddeus..." he moaned his eyes barely open. He had lost a lot of blood and was quite in a lot of pain.

However it seemed a miracle for the boy to be awake in such a state. His uniform torn quite a bit everywhere, and blood stained all over the floor around him, it didn't paint a image of certainty for the young hunter. His sword and one of his pistols stay late unto their respective holsters, but the other layed a little ways from Edgar also stained in the pool of blood around him.

Edgar managed surprisingly to move his arm in a reaching fashion towards the masses. "Heh...seems...this is what death feels like...its..cold.." he said sure he was dying. Although it might have not been the case, Edgar was most likely delirious from not only his wounds but from the amount of blood lost.

Whatever the case, Edgar gave almost a dreary and almost frightening shroud over the room. This scene seemed more from some terrible English film than in actual reality. That only made this visual that much more worse. Edward's wound could be told from his position, but his position and such only further pointed towards the gash that Thaddeus more than likely created. (Was planning for the wound to be by Thad; but can be changed if that presents too far a issue)

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Thaddeus' eyes drifted up to the vampire as the cloth fell before him. His expression was one of confusion, which melted into recognition and then gratitude.
"Thank you," instead of putting it around his own shoulders however he draped it over Edgar, making sure Mina still had room to work.
The boy's weak words sent cold fear knifing through his heart.
"Don't speak like that. You're going to be all right." Thaddeus reached down to squeeze Edgar's shoulder reassuringly.
"He's going to be all right." Thaddeus said again, this time looking at Mina.
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Amberdale's raised voice drew his attention for a moment. Alexander and Prenkus were facing the man down, but he was still holding the chancellor hostage. They had to get her away from him before they could apprehend him safely. Just then Iona appeared in the doorway, groggy but otherwise unharmed, a wave of relief flooded through Thaddeus at the sight of his cousin safe. They exchanged looks, Iona pointing to the scene and Thaddeus shaking his head, he had no idea how to end this with Cartwright safe.
They had to think quickly.
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Amberdale narrowed his eyes at the Prussian, slowly advancing.
"And what," he began, his eyes winter cold, "would glares get me? You and I both know Prenkus, that change is only achieved by action."
Then he moved, bringing up the sword, about to slash the chancellor's throat.
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Mina Puccino
Mina looked down at Edgar. Stitching was done and no more bleeding could be seen. She but was worried about the other group who were going to deal with the old hunter. It was her first visit of Order of London and within few hours they had shown her everything a hunter never wished to witness. If they used to be a cooperative team in the past, then that team was already shattered into pieces. If their leader was going to lose her head there then getting the hunters on their feet again would be harder than one would imagine. Getting her mind back to the guy singing parting song in front of her, she almost felt pity for him as they say; 'a man couldn't know himself truly but at his moment of death.' and supposedly Edgar's last moment included no cavalry.
"Whether you like it or not... you'll live."
She replied his moaning about feeling cold then faced Thad to answer his unasked question.
"Wolf or man, he's going to be fine. Keep his body warm and have him drink lukewarm water... but before that, give him time and tell him move his limbs. If no bones are broken, take him to a place more proper for nursing... a hospital, maybe?"
She explained everything she knew to the werewolf as thought it more fitting to let him take care of his friend in order to feel less shame and regrets about hurting him. She got up wondering when she was going to find the chance to wash blood of her hands. Turning her face toward Amberdale, she listened to more of his rubbish as excuse then approached him to stand nearly behind Lomeyer.
"Change? I which way? They way that you prefer?" Mina uttered coldly, looking daggers at the old man. "For which reason your ideals must be everyone's ideals? Have you believed yourself to be a all knowing?" Scornfully she spoke. "You shout about monsters and beasts... most hate to be diseased like that... but who's the monster? I've always tried to keep out of these matters... but meeting you in a place like this and this play you have composed... I don't know to laugh or cry! Look at the mess around you." She pointed as fallen corpses and bloody covered floor by hand. "The one responsible for this isn't a wolf but a two legged beast; YOU!" She took one step closer. "And this is nothing compared to what you English men have done and are doing. Almost everywhere I travel I hear tragedies caused by... likes of you." She was going to say about British soldiers but cut that part as it wasn't wise to make every English man her enemy.
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