I'd be great if they took some ideas from the existing novels... but I seriously doubt it. Let's hope they don't ruin anything!
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Message Boards - Boba Fett Fan Club Posts by Net-a-Fett
I'd be great if they took some ideas from the existing novels... but I seriously doubt it. Let's hope they don't ruin anything!
After taking a moment to admire Dun Gorah’s handy work, Helena continued her journey into the depths of MandalMotors. She eventually came upon the office which Harold Rotash worked in. Unfortunately her mark was not in his office.
Helena shifted her focus to the labs in which Rotash tended to work. As she approached she saw one figure deeply engrossed in what he was doing. Again it was not Rotash. Helena ground her teeth in frustration. Yet she approached the lone man, “Hey have you seen Rotash?”
The man lifted his head, peered at her for a moment and then shook his head, “Nope, I think he went home over an hour ago. Had a hot date, or so he told us.”
Helena gave a nod, “Thanks, guess I’ll try again later.” No sooner had she spoken and the man was back to his research.
Helena headed back to the rooftop, perhaps there’d be some poor souls left that she could take out her frustration on.
Helena had finalised the last few touches of the “accident” Xenio Trask had fallen victim to and was moving on to the next target. This new one wasn’t a kill job, much to Helena’s disappointment. She was to “influence” an R&D technology scientist at MandalMotors. This one’s name was Harold Rotash. The odd thing was, he’d moved up her list from sixth priority to now first (as she’d already killed the top two).
She also had further instructions from the Deathwatch master to get to MandalMotors immediately. It was only when she arrived at MandalMotors that she understood why. The place was a war zone, at least on the upper levels.
It would be much easier to manipulate a terrorised target when the battle was going on, then when it was over. Now she just had to work out how to get inside. The main entrances would be in lock down due to the attack. Helena took a moment and realised the easiest way in would be from the attack point. The hardest part was not getting attacked by the people up there.
Helena rode her swoop bike to the quietest part of the rooftop and slid off. Down low she made her way through the blaster fire and screaming to the nearest entrance. She was almost to the door when she spotted Dun Gorah’s bloodied visage.
Helena could feel the fear of Gorah’s targets as he slew them with amazing finesse and skill. She watched on with a kind of awe and admiration that only a fellow psychopath could understand. Dun Gorah’s emotions flitted to her momentarily. He was in his element, thrilled at watching his victims die in gruesome horror.
Xenio Trask was known to work long hours, and it seemed that tonight was no exception. Helena sat on the opposite building rooftop watching him through her micro-binoculars. Trask was in his early forties, darked haired and a little soft around the middle. It seemed he sat at his desk, just a bit too much.
Helena watched as Trask’s secretary came into the room and dropped off a file before waving goodbye. Trask absently waved goodbye, as he continued working.
Helena lowered the binoculars and studied her datapad. Apparently Trask often did a walk around of the factory before going home. He looked to be sorting his paperwork so Helena decided it was time to move.
It didn’t take her long to get into the building. She used the Force to help a security guard trip over and smash into the closest wall and then she stole his clothes and redressed. With the security guard’s pass she got inside without any trouble.
Helena made her way to the empty loading dock. It was one of the last places Trask would inspect before leaving. It also held the most options for killing him. Helena studied the suspended loads and grinned. Now she just had to make sure he was in the right position for squashing.
Trask walked along the designated path, oblivious to Helena’s presence. Helena used the Force to push a small toolbox over. It clanged to the floor loudly and Trask left the safe pathway to inspect.
Helena waited until Trask was in the optimum position and used the Force to pull the crate downward, snapping its chains and letting it fall. Trask looked up dumbfounded before he was squashed. Helena flinched, “Messy,” she said quietly to herself.
When Helena has finished relishing the moment, she walked over to pick up Potrone’s door key he’d ditched when stripping. Next she retrieved her black bodyglove and found it saturated. She scrunched it up and squeezed as much water out of the garment as possible but it was still wet. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get it on easily. So she held it in her hand and carefully made her way back to Potrone’s apartment in the nude.
She opened the door and slipped on the dress, cloak and her ankle high boots. She rubbed the wet bodyglove over the cloak to make it look as though she’d worn it in the rain before walking back into the corridor. She moved to the elevator, took a deep breath, then ran to the nearest apartment door and knocked frantically, “Help! Help!” she cried.
The door before her opened along with a few others. “Please help me! Algath…” she panted, “He’s on the roof, he got struck… by lightening!”
The human before moved into action, “I’ll call an ambulance!”
“I’ll see if I can get Dr Rangest!” another resident shouted.
Helena swam in the panic, shock and horror of the residents. She let it feed her emotions to give a more convincing performance.
When the authorities arrived, her performance was so good that they suggested she immediately see a councillor. When it all quietened down, Helena left as the authorities did. Within the hour there were news telecasts on the holonet broadcasting the tragic accidental death of Algath Potrone.
As Helena returned to her speeder bike, she felt her datapad vibrate. Pulling it out of her cloak pocket she saw that she had received her first payment from the Deathwatch, clearly they had seen the news. She grinned and looked up the next target: Xenio Trask, business entrepreneur and pacifist.
((Warning adult content in this rather long post!!))
The wildlife in the forest was silent as the ship sat smouldering. The ship was making a clicking noise due to the heat and damage that had stretched its metal skin. Suddenly the outer door blew off with extreme force.
From the torn opening came a petite woman of only five feet. Helena stepped out of the ship with the grace of a big cat. Her head pivoted from side to side, analysing her surroundings with cold calculation.
Her mood was dark, being a Zeltron also meant she was naturally empathic and she had picked up on the annoyed feelings the Sullustan brothers had been emitting. She’d allowed herself to delve into the emotions to feed the dark power of the Force within her.
Now out of the ship, Helena pulled a datapad from her cloak pocket and activated it. There was a message from the Deathwatch master. Her job was to track down several high profile detractors from the Deathwatch cause and either scare or kill them. Apparently she’d been given the more subtle jobs to do. The out in the open and get your hands bloody jobs had been delegated to the master’s right hand man: Dun Gorah aka The White Wall.
Helena smiled darkly, she’d like to meet this Dun Gorah. His emotions would surely feed her power to new heights. Plus there could be side benefits, be they on the battlefield or in the bedroom.
Helena smirked and looked at her first quarry fact sheet. His name was Algath Potrone. He was a high profile reporter who had repeatedly bagged out the Deathwatch and had been slowly undermining their credibility. He needed to be silenced and it needed to be permanent. Direct murder wouldn’t do but Helena had something more sinister in mind.
She turned off the datapad and turned back to the ship. Raising her hands she summoned the Force and pulled a large chunk of the ship’s hull apart. With the chunks held in mid-air Helena threw them to the side to expose her speeder bike. Stepping through the wreckage, Helena mounted her speeder and headed to Keldabe.
The sky was fading to black as Helena reached Keldabe. The sky had been filled with darkening clouds which blocked out the distant stars that were trying to shine through the dwindling sunlight. Helena was to go to a bar that Algath Potrone frequented called “The Drink Easy” which was located only two blocks away from Potrone’s apartment.
Thunder echoed through the sky, yet the storm was still some distance away. Helena left her cloak on in case the need to stay dry from a future storm arose. With the speeder parked safely away, Helena strode to “The Drink Easy” with a seductive sway of her hips.
She confidently made her way into the bar with a sultry glance around the place. She spotted Potrone’s thin figure and mop of blonde hair immediately and made her way towards him. She waited until she had his attention and then shifted her path to the bar stools instead. As she sat down, she ensured that her cloak draped behind her and that her stockinged legs were exposed for Potrone’s viewing.
From her research Helena knew that Potrone was something of a player. He liked one night stands and easy conquests. Commitment was a dirty word as far as he was concerned and he had even been quoted saying so.
Zeltrons were often considered one of the most alluring humanoid species around and Helena knew there weren’t a great deal of them in this part of Keldabe. Chances were that Potrone would want to add a Zeltron to the notches on his bedpost.
The bartender had just approached her when Potrone moved to the stool beside her. “I’ll have a Rodian Twist,” Helena told the bartender and reached for her credits.
Potrone’s hand covered hers, “Allow me to pay.” He said with a smile that was supposed to be warm and welcoming.
Helena smiled back, “Well thanks.” She caught the bartender rolling his eyes from the edge of her vision. Clearly Potrone did this a lot.
“My pleasure, I’m a regular and I like to make sure any new comers feel right at home here.” His hand lingered on hers a moment longer, then his fingers brushed lightly against the back of her hand as he pulled away.
They began chatting and Potrone continued to buy her drinks. Apparently he didn’t know that alcohol didn’t affect Zeltrons nearly as much as it did humans. Before long he was touching her shoulder in conversation, then her hand and finally on her thigh.
Potrone’s desire was very evident to Helena. She let it feed her own emotions which she then sent back at him, increasing his want. His fingers reached the hem of her skirt and slowly moved upward. Helena caught his hand and brought the tips of his fingers to her lips. “It’s getting hot in here, don’t you think?” she said as she nibbled each of his fingers.
Potrone let out a deep breath at her touch, “Yes, it certainly is. Would you like to come to my apartment? It’s air conditioned.”
Helena bit her lip and gave a coy look, “Sure that sounds great.” She took his hand and let him lead her out of the bar. She had to hide a satisfied smile as this was exactly what she wanted him to do.
They walked hand in hand to his apartment block, rode up the elevator giving each other hot looks, but it wasn’t until they were in Potrone’s apartment that he pounced. Helena was as worked up as he was. Feeding off his emotions had only heightened hers and she fully intended on getting as much pleasure as she could from Potrone before she killed him.
Potrone had her cloak and her dress off when she pushed away from his kiss. The thunder outside was getting louder and distant lightening was brightening the night sky. “Let’s go to the rooftop, I’ve always wanted to do it outside when it’s raining.”
Potrone grinned as he re-buttoned his shirt, “Sure, let’s go.”
Helena remained in her black body glove as they made their way to the rooftop. As Helena expected, no one was around. She took the opportunity to shed the remainder of her clothes. Potrone did the same. They embraced, kissed and came together as one as the thunder boomed and the rain started.
Once it was over, Helena lay sated on the rooftop ledge as Potrone moved off her panting. “Was it good for you?” Helena asked with a cryptic smile.
Potrone grinned as he pulled on his pants and shirt, “You know it was.”
Helena shifted into a sitting position. “Good,” she grinned as her face took on a demonic smirk. She raised her hands just as lightening lit the sky. Lightening also shot from her fingers as she electrocuted Potrone. She watched as he writhed like a fish pulled from the water. When she stopped he dropped like a sack of wet sand. He was very much dead. Helena threw her head back, closed her eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. She’d had a very good time.
((I can edit this if too rauchy. I wanted to show just what a cold killer this character is.))
The grubby looking Sullustan stared at his brother dumbly, "What do you mean we're losing altitude?" Naska whined.
"Look at the readout, moron. We're falling out of the sky," Truska, Naska's brother, growled back.
"Who are you calling a moron, moron!" Naska spat back.
"Stop arguing and help me land this bucket before the witch gets ticked off," Truska snapped.
Naska dove for the co-pilot chair, "Good point, I'd hate her to zap me again."
"Again? What the frag did you do this time? Oh never mind. Just help me get this thing down in one piece." Truska said as he frantically adjusted controls.
The two brothers fought to keep the ship from burning up in the atmosphere, "What's the read out on the thrusters?" Truska shouted.
"Up to shi..." Naska started, "Wait, one is okay. The other is fried."
"Great, just great. We can crash lopsided, fantastic." Truska spat and he continued to fight the ship down.
Naska shrugged, "Think of it as falling with style."
"You really are a moron," Truska snarled as he watched the flames of re-entry die off. "I see trees, lots and lots of trees. Where's a frick'n clearing when you want one!"
Naska pushed up on his tippy toes, while in his seat, to look out the view port, "Looks like there's a clearing up there."
"That's the ocean you fool!" Truska said as he tried to pull the ships nose up.
"Well you asked for a clearing, you never said if you wanted it on land." Naska pouted.
Truska glared at his brother for a moment, "I swear you were adopted."
"Bah, you're just jealous that you missed out on the good looks," Naska said as he folded his arms.
"Good looks! Grab the controls, you fool. Damn it, you didn't get the brains that's for sure." Truska hissed.
Naska immediately went back to his duties, "Sorry bro, didn't mean to let go."
Truska snorted, "We're nearly down." He flicked on the internal com, "We're going down. Strap in or hold onto something. This is going to be a bumpy ride."
"Do you think the witch will toast you or me over this?" Naska asked.
Truska threw a brief glare at him, "Just shut up already and pay attention."
"Okay, okay, but where are we again?" Naska asked.
"Mandalore, as instructed by the witch." Truska said as the first tree tops scratched the belly of the ship.
"Why'd she want to come to Mandalore for?" Naska asked, completely unfazed by the situation.
"Shopping? How the frag should I know. I just fly the ship and get paid. Hopefully we're not about to get dead," Truska said as the ship got lower, larger branches were starting to hit the ship.
"Why didn't we land at the spaceport?" Naska queried as he looked out the view port.
"Because she wanted to come in undetected," Truska said between gritted teeth.
Naska's face scrunched up, "That's weird if she's only shopping."
Truska groaned, "You really have no clue about anything."
Naska frowned, "Well I know how to land a ship without crashing it. I seriously doubt this is the witch's version of discreet."
Truska wasn't able to say his piece as the ship finally hit a larger tree, spinning it out of control and into another tree. The ship continued to careen out of control until it finally hit one too many trees. Both Sullustans were out cold. Their passenger however, was not.
Name: Helena Torrel
Appearance: Short, her skin is a shade lighter than red with black hair and beautiful features. The outward beauty hides an inner ugliness. Helena is tainted by the dark side of the Force, however she is no Sith, merely a self taught Force user with a lot of anger issues. She wears a black bodyglove with a short maroon dress over the top. Generally she wears a dark burgundy cloak over the top.
Force Powers: Choke, Force Lightening, Speed, Push and Pull.
Weapons: Collapsible staff and two small blaster pistols
Purpose: To help the Deathwatch "persuade" high up officials to bend to their ways.
Name: Kess Alto
Occupation: Jedi Knight
Weapons: Dark Pink lightsabre
Kess Alto had been surprised to receive a directive to head to Balkest. She had been travelling back from Dantooine after a six month stint of training and meditation. The truth was that she had been in the process of rehabilitation after battling with the Sith.
She had met Jedi Master Genn Ostace a handful of times but they had never worked together. She was also aware that his Padawan had also been dispatched to assist in the conflict below.
She had been advised to land in the Kubaz complex rather than the human one. The fact that she was not human herself was probably why such advice was given.
Upon landing she was greeted by a Kubaz named Barulian. He seemed agitated and that wasn’t surprising since she had sensed a looming blanket of dark side energy as she had disembarked.
“I am Jedi Knight Kess Alto. I’m here to assist Jedi Master Genn Ostace.” She informed Barulian.
“The Jedi Master is still in the human colony battling that scum. I believe his aim was to get to the Communications Relay Centre. From there I don’t know what he was doing.” Barulian told as he paced as if trying to release some of his pent up frustration.
“I will search for him then,” Kess told as she headed off by foot.
Reaching out with the Force she searched for the Jedi Master’s presence. She found not only him but a number of dark stains that could only be Sith. She immediately increased her pace, with the assistance of the Force, until she found them.
Genn was seriously outnumbered but his only real threat was the Sith that he was battling with.
Igniting her lightsabre, Kess Force leapt to land behind the Sith, “Not so fun when the tables are turned, are they?” she said as she shoved him hard with a Force Push.
Emeline had just finished chopping through a particularly rotten zombie’s head which had sliced like an overripe pumpkin. Unfortunately it didn’t smell nearly appealing, especially when roasted with her stolen blade.
She didn’t like the idea of being holed up to avoid the zombies, but the horde was only increasing in numbers and frankly it was only a matter of time before the group was overwhelmed.
The other problem lay in how long they were to be in the mausoleum. It was hours until dawn but a vampire had to remember such a key element. They were almost inside when Emeline stopped to wait for the slayers. A whisper of chilly wind wisped from the crypt. The hairs on the back of Emeline’s neck rose.
Already the others were inside. “What’s the problem?” Lev asked.
“Do you get the feeling we’re being herded here?” Emeline said quietly.
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Lev replied.
“This could be Ansgar’s tomb,” Emeline whispered.
“You are the guardian of the amulet and yet you don’t know which tomb is his?” Dan asked.
“The graveyard has changed a lot. When Aldrick and his covern locked Ansgar away, the graveyard was not in existence. It was built around the tomb.” Emeline replied but her explanation was cut short as more zombies ambled in.
“Let’s get inside for now,” Emeline said hesitantly.
The trio were the last inside. Avlynn and Fen pushed closed the stone doors with their superior werewolf strength. The doors were almost sealed when Emeline realised that Morgan was missing. “Wait, we’re down a man.”
“As Captain Jack says: he who falls behind gets left behind,” Lev taunted.
“No one deserves to be consumed by zombies,” Emeline stated as she pushed her way back outside. The zombies were already within the perimeter of the tomb. Emeline climbed her way up a pillar to its outcropping and leapt to the next pillar. It was slow going but at least the zombies couldn’t reach her.
As soon as there was a clearing she leapt to the ground. She heard the grunts and shouted curses coming from Morgan and ran towards them. Zombies were surrounding him and attempting to bite him repeatedly. Somehow he’d managed to avoid them so far.
Emeline hacked her way into the backs of the zombies which in turn brought about the attention of about half of the group. They opened their mouths and moaned with hunger. “Run!” Emeline shouted to Morgan as the horde split into two.
She backed away as the zombies stumbled forward. She circled her way around and grabbed Morgan by his sleeve. “We’ve found a crypt to shelter in.”
“What kind of safety do you think we’ll get there? There’s probably more zombies in the damn crypt.” Morgan pointed out.
“Well at least we’ll be limited to how many,” Emeline replied. Thankfully the zombies around the crypt had thinned enough for the pair to make their way to the door. “Let us in!” Emeline shouted and hoped that the others could hear them.
The moment Emeline had realised Mar was on the scene, she knew things were about to get very bad. The right hand man... well thing, of Ansgar had woken the dead. She hadn’t had the time to try and counter his spell and now they were deep in the cemetery and the dead were rising.
She knew that the spell would only be temporary, only Ansgar could keep the dead going until they disintegrated. Unfortunately Mar’s power was much more potent than the Brotherhood minions. Chances were these zombies could last up to a week. “Take off their heads! They’ll only die if you destroy the brain!” she shouted to the others.
She immediately brought her Belgian Crossbow Gun (BCG) to hand and loaded it up with small arrows. The BCG was fast and had a fair punch, enough to penetrate the skull of an undead creature.
Emeline knew the most effective way to stop the spell was to kill the caster, unfortunately Mar seem more slippery than an eel. She tried to manoeuvre her way through the newly sprouting zombies but their grey flesh torn hands kept grabbing at her ankles. She stomped on the free hand that lashed out to grab her right leg and ignored the sickening crunch of bones snapping into decayed flesh.
“Where’s a flame thrower when I need it...” Emeline muttered then had an idea. “Anyone with a blade, don’t freak out at what I’m about to do.” She called as she began to chant.
Suddenly every sword and dagger in the hands of its owner set alight.
“What the hell?” Dan cried as he almost dropped his sword.
“It won’t burn the welder of the blade, only the object of the attack, if you get my meaning.” Emeline told then demonstrated with her own stolen sword. Its flaming blade sliced easily through a zombie arm and the flames immediately travelled over the walking corpse and ignited it in fire.
Emeline, Ronson and Morgan arrived on the scene as the slayers took the final blow against the amulet’s bearer. Emeline immediately removed a cloth from her pocket and picked up the amulet by its chain.
“Put it down before it possesses you,” Ronson advised.
Emeline shook her head, “This cloth is blessed by the Oracle, it counters the amulet’s curse.”
“Nifty, can I have one of those?” Dan asked.
“I have a different job for you,” Emeline informed the slayer. “Burn the beast you slay. It may be without head but it’s always best to be sure.”
Dan smiled, “What the lady wants, the lady gets.”
“Good,” Emeline turned to Morgan, “You are more than you let on. Your sense of smell can tell us much. Please scent the amulet and track down Ansgar’s tomb.”
Morgan looked disgusted. “I’m not a hound dog.”
Avlynn and Fen arrived at that moment. “You want a hound dog?” Avlynn asked, “Fen’s your man.”
“Excellent,” Emeline said as she held forth the amulet, “Do not touch it, whatever you do.”
Both Fen and Avlynn scented the amulet. “We’ll see what we can do,” Avlynn told.
Emeline turned back to the others. “Okay, now we need to get this amulet as far away from here...” looking up Emeline spotted more of the Brotherhood materialise. “I knew it was only a matter of time.” She quickly wrapped the amulet in the sacred cloth and place it in her pocked as she reached for her weapon.
There were only two cemeteries in Marley’s Point and only one of them was to the north. Emeline led, although she knew it wasn’t a great plan to have two unknowns at her back. Right now, however she needed to get to the amulet before Ansgar the Destroyer was released from his confinement.
She couldn’t return to her car due to the attention it would bring from the police. “Do either of you have a vehicle nearby?”
The werewolf pointed to the rear of the museum, “My pickup truck is out the back.”
“Great, we need to use it.” Emeline said as she turned in the direction pointed.
“I’m Avlynn by the way,” the werewolf said.
Emeline turned to the vampire, “You got a name?”
Before he could answer there was the sound of smashing glass. “Hurry,” Emeline said as she dropped into a run. She prayed that Mar had not sensed her and sent more of the Brotherhood.
The truck sat in the car park with a sparse few other vehicles. Avlynn grabbed the keys from under the back wheel guard. “It’s unlocked,” she told, “no one would bother stealing this old heap.”
The three slipped into the cab an onto the bench seat. “Fasten your seat belts,” Avlynn told as she jammed the stick into gear.
It only took minutes for them to reach the cemetery. “I can only park on the street, there’s no vehicle access.”
“This will have to do,” Emeline replied. She turned to the male vampire. “Now where do we need to go?”
Emeline was used to working on her own, but under the circumstances a couple of extra hands might be worth the effort. “Okay, we need to get to Ansgar’s resting place before the bearer of the Amulet. You,” Emeline said pointing to the male vampire. “You had the amulet, where did it want you to go?”
“I had this pull to go north, to a graveyard.” He replied.
“We must go there, the new bearer of the amulet will be trying to get it to the same place.” Emeline told as she took up her weapons.
“What do we do when we get there?” the female werewolf asked.
“Make sure they don’t place the amulet on the setting stone,” Emeline told as she headed out of the museum, the male vampire and female werewolf following. "She turned briefly, by the way, the name's Emeline. Try not to kill me."
Emeline was glad she’d finally been left alone, problem was it was due to the loss of the amulet. She struggled to her feet with multiple wounds and cursed herself for not feeding for the last few nights. With such damage to her body the thirst was upon her with an urgency that would not be denied.
Like the slayers, Emeline carried a magic stone of her own. This one however identified dark souls. Emeline was selective when it came to victims. She had decided that if she had to kill she’d rid the world of the scum. Fortunately there was one such person in the museum grounds.
Emeline stalked with practiced prowess. She saw the two bulky men who worked as the museum’s muscle. They were drinking beers. To a human they seemed like nice enough guys. But the one on the left had a darker nature. The bastard hit his wife and belittled their children. Emeline could tell this from touching the stone.
With a kick she knocked out the bulk on the right, his beer bottle smashing on the ground beside him. Immediately the bulk on the left took a swing at her. Emeline grabbed his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. “There’ll be no more hitting of women for you, scumbag.” With that Emeline let her fangs extend and sunk them into the man’s neck. She drank deeply and felt the struggle drain out of the bulk, in turn she felt her wounds heal and her full strength return.
Emeline couldnÃ¢Â€Â™t believe it first one, now three vampires stood around her. At least two of them were intent on stealing the Amulet of Delkath. As for one with long hair who seemed to want to make friends, she didnÃ¢Â€Â™t really know his motivation.
Ã¢Â€ÂœI believe first in, best dressed.Ã¢Â€Â Emeline informed them all as she smashed the glass encasement with her bare hand. It bled temporarily before healing almost immediately. Her fingers closed around the Amulet of Delkath and she felt an almost overwhelming need to take it to AnsgarÃ¢Â€Â™s tomb.
She touched the Amulet of Delkath against her own amulet and felt the desire lessen. The action cost her as the new arrivals opened fire. Emeline took a bullet to the chest but remained standing. She slashed out with her sword and sliced into the nearest threat: the paler vampire. She knew that he would be on his feet in a few seconds.
Taking the opportunity to run, Emeline dashed out of the room and headed for the nearest exit. However she was shot again, this time in the back by one of the vampires. The impact made her fall to the ground and the Amulet of Delkath slipped from her grip as her fist hit the floor.
Emeline walked into the museum as silently as a ghost. She could hear the faint hum of voices ahead of her. Stealthily she moved faster to catch up. A female werewolf was speaking to the slayer. It seemed completely at odds with what Emeline knew of the St MichaelÃ¢Â€Â™s assassins but she decided it was probably a case of letÃ¢Â€Â™s deny what we are to each other and IÃ¢Â€Â™ll kill you when your back is turned.
It seemed that they were heading for the South Wing. Emeline already knew the layout of the museum from her studies of the layout. She knew how to bypass the odd pair and get to where the amulet was.
She approached the room she knew was designated for the amulet. Before she arrived she heard the chatter of voices and caught the distinct scent of other vampires. She touched her amulet to extend her senses. It seemed the other vampires were after the amulet too.
The amulet told her something else too: the man with the clipboard was lying. The amulet had been one of the first things put on display. It was in the chamber three rooms up.
She immediately made her way to it. It stood encased in a glass cube, laying on red velvet with a number of other jewellery from newer eras surrounding it. Emeline stopped in her tracks as she felt the impulse to pick up the amulet. Ã¢Â€ÂœAnsgar is awake and calling,Ã¢Â€Â she said quietly to herself.
Before she could chant the counter spell she heard someone approach. It seemed fighting was going to be inevitable. Emeline reached for a sword hanging from the wall and poised herself in waiting...
Emeline would have cursed as she drew closer to the source of the Brotherhoods presence but it was a waste of breath. When she realised where the trace was coming from she didnÃ¢Â€Â™t hold back. The faint smell of the Brotherhoods departure was also present. Someone had managed to kill the mongrels.
With caution Emeline turned the corner. She saw a door close as she arrived on the scene. The scent of the departed Brotherhood minions was strongest here. Her nostrils flared as she touched her own amulet: the Amulet of Trekin. Its blue stone glowed slightly in response to her touch.
In her mind the scene unfolded that had transpired only minutes ago. Four Brotherhood minions had arrived and been ambushed. The surprise was that it was by one lone man. Emeline suspected that he must be supernatural. Then he admitted to being part of the St MichaelsÃ¢Â€Â™ group. So he was human... damn.
Emeline knew all about the St Michaels bunch. Generally they tried to kill her whenever they came across her. Like most humans they simply assumed she was a typical vampire. If only they knew she was guarding them from a much greater evil. Although chances were she might be too late to reach the Amulet of Delkath. She hurried to the slightly ajar door and made her way into the museum.
Emeline raised a brow at the male vampireÃ¢Â€Â™s entrance. As usual he had the typical opinion of most male vampires: women were helpless on their own.
Ã¢Â€ÂœIÃ¢Â€Â™m not hear to fight with the mangy wolves. IÃ¢Â€Â™ve bigger fish to fry.Ã¢Â€Â Emeline said sharply.
Ã¢Â€ÂœYou can hardly avoid them, besides itÃ¢Â€Â™s our duty as vampires to rid the world of the filthy dogs,Ã¢Â€Â the male replied.
Emeline continued walking, she sensed that a wolf was headed their way but she was inclined to ignore it. A tingle ran up her spine with a familiarity that disturbed her. Ã¢Â€ÂœNo, the Brotherhood are here,Ã¢Â€Â she whispered quietly to herself.
Ã¢Â€ÂœThe who?Ã¢Â€Â the male asked.
Ã¢Â€ÂœThe Brotherhood,Ã¢Â€Â she repeated and shifted into a sprint. She passed the surprised werewolf who reached out to grab her, he missed and immediately gave chase. Emeline didnÃ¢Â€Â™t care, if the wolf managed to snatch at her then sheÃ¢Â€Â™d deal with him.
Name: Emeline Tulloch
Species: Regular vampire
Weapon: Belgian Crossbow Pistol
Personality: Emeline has been on her own for a long time. In general she doesnÃ¢Â€Â™t associate with other vampires unless she has to. She is very self assured and exudes confidence. But her existence is a lonely one.
History: Emeline was protÃƒÂ©gÃƒÂ© to Aldrick. Her aging master trained her to be a guardian for the Amulet of Delkath. She travels where ever the amulet goes, her mission is to stop it getting into the wrong hands and reawakening the vampire mage.
Night had finally come and Emeline was immediately in her black Lotus Elise. She knew where the Amulet of Delkath was going but had run out of night to pursue it all the way to MarleyÃ¢Â€Â™s Point. She had a good hourÃ¢Â€Â™s drive ahead of her, but then Emeline never kept to the speed limit.
As luck would have it, thirty five minutes into the trip a black and white flashed its lights and blared its sirens. Emeline didnÃ¢Â€Â™t have time for Police, she had nothing against them but she really didnÃ¢Â€Â™t have time for a lecture on how she should be driving. She was undead, her senses were far superior to a human and her reaction times had saved her from any potential accidents. However humans didnÃ¢Â€Â™t believe that vampires were real, so the truth wouldnÃ¢Â€Â™t get her out of a ticket.
Instead she put her foot down hard on the accelerator and smiled as the small sports car leapt forward like a cheetah chasing its prey. The Police took some time to catch up but by then Emeline had found some traffic to dodge and weave through. The sirens continued to wail and Emeline watched as her destination grew closer.
MarleyÃ¢Â€Â™s Point turn off was looming, she didnÃ¢Â€Â™t hesitate in taking the exit. The Police followed. Emeline wasnÃ¢Â€Â™t familiar with MarleyÃ¢Â€Â™s Point but sheÃ¢Â€Â™d taken the opportunity to study the street layout before arriving, she had some idea as to possible escape routes and immediately made for a string of alleyways that interconnected in the most confusing ways.
She found a small shopping centre with an underground car park and quickly parked her Lotus in the most populated spot. Quickly she emerged from the car, locked it and made her way up the ramp way and into the shopping centre.
She often dressed in fairly formal attire, mainly to remind her of the time sheÃ¢Â€Â™d come from, but now with the tracking of the amulet she had dressed for the occasion. She wore a pair of bootleg navy jeans, an emerald green t-shirt and a black knitted cardigan. She blended perfectly well with the shoppers and quickly exited the mall.
Emeline found the street highly lit and decided to find the more seedy part of town. Her hackles rose as she sensed other supernatural creatures, it wasnÃ¢Â€Â™t surprising as Emeline knew a local werewolf pack had set up house in the area. She just hadnÃ¢Â€Â™t expected to come across them so quickly.
**This one be for cannon fodder, feel free to kill him off**
Terrance Christensen was still prying at his face long after the leather coated man had left. Terrance didnÃ¢Â€Â™t know what that creep had sprayed in his face but he felt like his body was on fire. He could smell the blood on his fingers, his face was weeping from the constant scratching.
Something strange was happening to Terrance. He felt as though his skin was too tight and his muscles were stretching.
Suddenly a gnawing hunger ripped through Terrance. He knew the best dumpster for scraps was at the back of the Prime Time Cafe and it was only a few blocks away. Staggering with difficulty, Terrance made his way there.
Panting and drooling, Terrance found the dumpster some time later. He reached in to find food but his nose was more interested with the aromas coming from inside the cafe. Limping, Terrance made his way to the front door. He heard the screams but had no idea that they were directed at his appearance.
Terrance looked like some sort of mutant, his body was misshapen, blood and drool continued to run down his face and his muscles pulsated unnaturally.
He opened his mouth to ask for help but only a hiss came out. He reached for a nearby waitress who was so stunned by his appearance that she hadnÃ¢Â€Â™t moved. As he went to touch her for assistance the sounds of cocking guns was clearly evident.
For some reason the noise enraged Terrance and he lurched to attack.
Carmen didnÃ¢Â€Â™t really know if she needed to take the girl with her but it was pretty obvious that Mr Haze was in town and very much up to something. Carmen vaguely remembered Amy. SheÃ¢Â€Â™d done work experience as a student or something when Carmen was still getting paid to be a reporter.
Ã¢Â€ÂœDo you recognise any of the bodies covered in bugs?Ã¢Â€Â Carmen asked as she grabbed Amy by the arm and proceeded in dragging her along through the tiled aisle.
Amy was panting to keep up, Ã¢Â€ÂœThey were fully covered, plus I didnÃ¢Â€Â™t look too closely.Ã¢Â€Â
Carmen snorted, Ã¢Â€ÂœShame I would like to know who deserved to die that way.Ã¢Â€Â She suddenly skidded to a halt as she noticed another distinct bug on the floor nearby, Ã¢Â€ÂœDid the bug look like that?Ã¢Â€Â
Amy raised her hand to her mouth, Ã¢Â€ÂœYes, thatÃ¢Â€Â™s it. We need to get out of here now!Ã¢Â€Â
Amazingly AmyÃ¢Â€Â™s move to run actually had Carmen being towed behind the young woman. Ã¢Â€ÂœItÃ¢Â€Â™s only one.Ã¢Â€Â
Ã¢Â€ÂœI donÃ¢Â€Â™t care, where thereÃ¢Â€Â™s one thereÃ¢Â€Â™s probably going to be more,Ã¢Â€Â Amy replied as she continued to run.
Carmen closed her flip phone and gave a brief look around. There seemed to be enough chaos without her interference. Ã¢Â€ÂœIÃ¢Â€Â™ve got to go,Ã¢Â€Â she said to no one in particular.
Ã¢Â€ÂœWhere are you going?Ã¢Â€Â Someone asked but Carmen didnÃ¢Â€Â™t turn around.
She smiled to herself, Ã¢Â€ÂœNorton Mall.Ã¢Â€Â With that she teleported out.
Carmen reappeared in the disabled toilet at Norton Mall, it was one of the safest places for her to suddenly appear. Thankfully no one was in the cubicle this time. As she opened the door she heard a crunch as her foot stepped on something. She lifted her boot to see the remains of a squashed bug. Carmen raised a brow, Ã¢Â€ÂœWell well, long time no see Mr Haze.Ã¢Â€Â
Scraping the remains from the sole of her shoe Carmen made her way to Starbucks with a upturned lip, it seemed that things were becoming more interesting.
Carmen had stepped back to assess the invisible threat. The others were taking damage because they were going in too close before knowing what they were taking on.
Reaching into her pocket Carmen pulled out a can of shaving cream. It was an odd thing for a woman to carry but Carmen had found it handy to blind attackers. In this case it would help reveal the invisible attacker. With a quick step forward Carmen let loose with shaving cream. She hit the attacker in the face, neck and upper chest.
Stepping back Carmen admired her handy work but didnÃ¢Â€Â™t attempt to help the others. They were all jumping in, so there was no point.
Carmen walked with Speed but managed to catch the last of the conversation between Michael and the others. She had to stop herself from smiling, so Shaylee didnÃ¢Â€Â™t trust her, that wasnÃ¢Â€Â™t surprising. Carmen wondered if it was simply the reaction to another female joining the ranks. Carmen also wondered if Shaylee fancied one of her male companions and felt threatened.
Her attention quickly returned to Speed who was talking a hundred miles per hour as usual. Carmen took in what she could understand. She felt herself momentarily pause in her step as she heard the sirens of police cars again.
Ã¢Â€ÂœSo are the cops on our side?Ã¢Â€Â Carmen cut into SpeedÃ¢Â€Â™s babble.
Ã¢Â€ÂœWellnotentirely. SomearebutalotarenÃ¢Â€Â™t,Ã¢Â€Â can the usual machine gun paced answer.
Ã¢Â€ÂœCan you speak a little more slowly?Ã¢Â€Â Carmen asked, although her eyes were scanning for any sign of the police drawing near. The sirens seemed to be getting quieter.
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