Chapter 1: Valencia's

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"Woe to the inhabitors of the Earth and the Sea.
For the Devil is come down unto you, having great wrath,
because he knoweth that he hath but a short time."

..........................................................................................................-- Revelation 12:12


The war against the Church of Revelations has raged for fourteen years. Our game begins in Boston, Massachusetts - one of the most important cities in wartime America. As with many other places in the world, Boston is an embattled city. Though the United States remains a free country in the face of Revelationist aggression, this doesn't mean the Church has no presence here. Leviathian has followers in America, and they live scattered throughout the population of every major city. They wait, like a festering rot, to rise up and tear down the infidels in the name of their monstrous master. In the meantime, these true believers blend in with the locals, all the while committing calculated acts of terrorism designed to weaken the country's resolve. The American public lives every day in fear of attacks by the Church, and wartime supply shortages have led to a scarcity of certain common goods, hoarding, and the rise of black markets.

Boston is no stranger to Revelationist troubles. Despite their small numbers, the followers of Leviathan have done much to terrorize the city. It seems as though bombings and shootouts with police are an almost weekly occurrence. As an insurgent force, they've proven difficult to completely eradicate. For each cult that the Boston authorities or the Alliance locates and destroys, two new ones eventually rise to replace it. Things have gotten to the point where the Federal government has carved out "safety zones" within Boston: areas of the city in which Leviathan's influence has been (or is believed to have been) expelled with reasonable certainty. Neighborhoods outside of the safety zones have not been verified as clear of Revelationist infiltration. While not lawless, these unsecured neighborhoods have reduced police and military personnel, and suffer from increased crime and increased incidence of supernatural phenomena. Many residents have moved out of the unsecured neighborhoods in droves, but many don't have the means to do so.

Through discreet channels, the Alliance puts out a call for assistance. Perhaps you hear about it through a contact, or maybe you're informed by the Alliance itself. Regardless, the organization makes it clear that it has work to be done, though the nature of this work has not been revealed to you. If interested, you are presented with a time, date, and location. And so we begin.




"Welcome to Valencia's."

It's the first thing you hear as the doorman steps aside and you descend into the club.

In the spirit of a Prohibition era saloon, Valencia's operates in secret, hidden away from the general public. Situated beneath a commercial building in the North End neighborhood of Boston (a safety zone), the business is only accessible by coded invitation. Those given an invite are entrusted with the knowledge of the club's subterranean location and secret pass phrases. The establishment oozes atmosphere. Wide and spacious, it accommodates a fully stocked bar along the east wall, as well as a small stage at the front of the room, though no one is performing at the moment. Cocktail tables and couches with throw pillows abound. The entire place is rich in earth tones: leather, reclaimed wood, exposed brick, and dark concrete. Dim lighting, vintage glassware, industrial pipes, oversized vases, and art deco furniture make it feel as though you've stepped a century back in time to the Roaring Twenties of old America. Light jazz is playing over the speakers. The air is pungent with alcohol and cigar smoke.

There are a few dozen patrons at the club tonight. A mix of customers. A couple of tattooed men in a smoky corner playing pool. Several gamblers quietly sizing each other up in the midst of an intense card game. A pair of young lovers sitting and kissing in a darkened nook. People conversing and laughing over dinner or taking shots at the bar. In general, only the Gifted and supernatural beings are privy to the club's existence; the few mundanes who patronize the place are typically trusted friends or servants vouched for by supernatural clientele. In a reversal of the outside world, regular humans are the oddity in Valencia's and the paranormal is the norm. As a result, it doesn't take special powers to safely guess that the patrons around you are probably Gifted, or beings that are only marginally human - if human at all. Since the start of the war, Valencia's has served as unofficial neutral ground for the Gifted and supernaturals of the Boston Metropolitan Area, so it makes sense that the Alliance would want to meet here. The club is a safe space of sorts where all manner of beings, human and inhuman, are able to visit without fear of persecution. A place where the Gifted and non-humans can congregate and be themselves in a way that is impossible in the outside world. Each week, a healthy amount of the city's supernatural population passes through the establishment. Within its walls, violence is strictly prohibited and politics are expected to be left at the door. The ban on violence, in particular, has made the club an attractive site for the local Gifted and supernaturals to resolve their grievances. On more than one occasion, Valencia's has acted as a meeting place for warring immortals and opposing factions. Even the forces of Heaven and Hell honor the peace here, allowing for rare but tense interactions between angels and demons.

Everyone respects the sanctity of these rules, both Lone Wolves and Alliance members alike. Breaking the rules results in permanent banishment from the establishment. Not only that, the offender risks earning the ire of Valencia herself, the club's proprietress and a powerful being not to be trifled with.

Once you make your way into the speakeasy, you head to the club's VIP area, as instructed. This adjacent room is separated from the rest of the speakeasy by a long hallway and a velvet curtain. Two black-clad bouncers guard the entrance. One of them nods to you and pulls the curtain aside. The VIP area in Valencia's is furnished with a dozen posh chairs, several tables, a personal bar, and more. Like the rest of the club, the room is dimly lit with mood lighting and votive candles that cast flickering illumination.

Vidar was well on his way to creating the greatest French fry skyscraper ever constructed. It was a masterpiece, surprisingly detailed considering his implements were cocktail onions, umbrellas, and ranch dressing. His handsome featured face was contorted in extreme focus as Dr. Tyrz dissected a small sliver of a cocktail onion and finished the third wall of his construction.

He stopped for a moment, after affixing the "window" in place with bits of a broken cocktail umbrella and admiringly grinned. A set of enormous pearly whites, flashed and centered on the pretty cocktail waitress who brought him another plate of fries and a hatchet steak. "Thanks Caley! Another pitcher too please and thanks."

Vidar downed the contents of his glass, a golden colored beer that smelled strongly of lemon. His enormous hand covering two thirds of the sixteen ounce glass. It looked almost comically small at the end of his oarlike forearm. In his black muscle tank, and outrageous black, red, and dark grey joggers it was obvious this was a man who took strength training very seriously. The term Greek ideal came to mind, complimented by his brindle hair and symmetrical features. Vidar was easily in the top ten most attractive people of the crowd.

Digging into his steak with gusto, the man, who doubled as a wall of meat, devoured a full quarter of the enormous steak in minutes. Stopping only when Caley brought his requested pitcher to fill his glass, and clean his teeth on a lemon. A gulp of beer washed down the lemon juice, and he returned to the beef with gusto.

It took him seven minutes. Sixty four ounces of steak was gone, he picked his teeth with the bone. Vidar moved to the adjacent chair to his masterpiece, then studied the final side, a challenge, the last of which demanded by his art.

Carter took the last drag of his cigarette before heading into the club. Getting inside he runs his head through his dark hair, reminding himself it's about time to get a haircut. He considers leaving his leather jacket in wardrobe, but reconsiders, who knows how quickly I have to be on the move.

Making his way to the VIP section, he looks longingly at the game tables. He'd much rather spend what little cash he has left on a few rounds than some fancy schmancy VIP section where he sticks out like a sore thumb.

He sits down at a table, about to put his army boots clad feet up on the adjoining chair before thinking better of it. No reason to be kicked out before the meeting.

Valencia's was definitely one of the nicer places Rylani had been called to when meeting a contact or picking up a job. While this was her first time she had heard of its reputation and dressed accordingly. Black heels added to her already tall height, and the simple blue dress she was wearing was picked not so that she stood out from the crowd but instead blended in. After all dressing not to fit the scene was another way to draw attention to one's self. It and the shoes restricted her movement slightly, but in a fight that wouldn't matter long anyway.

The bag she checked in along with her jacket contained more sensible clothes, in case the Alliance was eager this job got underway immediately. She hoped not. She could use a drink or two, after the long chase her last mark led her on.

As she enters the VIP room her eyes immediately flick over everyone else in the room, reflexively taking them in, assessing for any threats, even as the rational part of her mind reminded her this was one of the safer places someone could be right now.

Content the area was safe, but also seeing no-one who was obviously her contact she approaches the bar and orders a light beer. The cocktails could start later, once she knew she could relax for the night.

Rylani Noah

Having exchanged the secret password with the doorman, the tall Asian woman proceeds inside. She briefly stops at the weapons and coat check, peeling off the jade over-garment, that matched her stunning green eyes, and handing over the sheathed katana carefully across the flats of her palms.

With a departing glance from the lovely young lady in the coat check to note the lavishly detailed gold and green ink of the coiled dragon that covered most the tall woman's back, she enters Valencia's. Her coat no longer covetously concealing her ensemble, the night's denizens see a black jersey gown with beaded choker and embellished thigh slit on the left side. The sleeveless dress has a bejeweled halter neckline and opened down to her lower back to give full view of the dragon tattoo.

Her ankle-strapped stiletto heels echo across the rich oiled wooden floor, as the attractive Asian woman appearing to be in her mid-twenties, strides confidently toward the two guards at watch at the curtained entrance to the VIP room. She hesitates only long enough to get a smile and an opening before proceeding within.

She heads directly to the private bar and orders some sake. With the brief wait for her drink, she turns with her back to the bar and slightly inclines her head to regard the others in the room. The tail of her long silky black hair, held in a high knot at the back of her head by two long silver needles, shifts with her new pose.

The Doctor's gray luxury car cruised nearly soundlessly through the narrowing streets towards the address he'd been given. The late model electric, one of the few the government neglected to impound while he'd been...away, glided into the old historic neighborhood towards the address he'd been given through his new contacts. He wasn't entirely sure where 'the Valencia' was located but his driver, a heavy set Asian man of dour mood and silent nature, seemed to know the location well enough. His new associates from " the Alliance" had arranged for the taciturn Asian man to assist the Doctor with the odd jobs and random tasks he might require and this far he'd found the man's assistance invaluable. The world had changed quite dramatically during his absence and none the better for it...

The Doctor was no stranger to clandestine meetings in places such as the Valencia and suffered through the layers of security that ensured the neutrality of such places. Of course he'd went armed (who didn't these days?) but surrendered his weapon at check in, giving a faintly lopsided smile as he delicately handed over the Walther pistol and went into the lounge proper.
He could appreciate the elegance of the richly appointed venue. It struck him as if the owner was trying to maintain a sense of control in a world rapidly spinning out of any sort of control. These days the appearance of control was just about all the control anyone had.

He tapped his knuckles on the bar to get the bartender's attention, I'll have a martini. Extra dirty, if you please... Catching sight of his reflection in the mirror behind the bar he grimaced a bit and ran his handover his jaw. Being clean-shaven was still new to him after the last few years and the pallor of his skin was still an unhealthy, fish belly white. At least he'd dropped some weight, he thought, as his reverie was broken by the bartender sliding the oversized martini glass into his hand. Adjusting the charcoal grey tie that contrasted the pale grey of his tailored suit, he scooped up the cloudy martini and dropped a hundred dollar bill on the bar and strode towards the VIP area. He memorized the faces he passed as he walked by. One never knew when recognizing a face would come in handy...
He entered the VIP lounge confidently, reaching to pull an expensive cigar from his suitcoat pocket as he scanned the room. Selecting an opulent high backed leather chair with a good view of the room, Dr. Avel took a drink as he sat down.

Arashi Akari

Each member of the group makes it to the club. Those of you who check in their coats and/or weapons are given a numbered yellow ticket in return. A couple of you, by virtue of your looks and sophisticated attire, draw lingering stares from several patrons as you disappear down the hall to the VIP room.

All of you trickle into the VIP section. A statuesque gentleman building a structure from the food on his dinner plate. A dark haired man clad in a leather jacket and smelling of cigarette smoke. A tall, no nonsense-looking woman dressed in blue evening wear. An elegant woman in black with a tattooed dragon gracing her back. And a clean-shaven, bald-pated man in a gray suit and tie. Some of you are acquainted with each other, and some of you are not. It's clear that people other than yourself have decided to answer the Alliance's call. These individuals are either about to become your colleagues or your competition.

Most of you have grabbed drinks or ordered food as you wait for the Alliance's representative to arrive. A bartender quietly serves drinks while a cocktail waitress, Caley, makes her way around the room.

The Doctor sat in the high backed chair, sipping his cloudy martini as he observed the others. None of them knew each other well, the social cues just weren't there for anything more than perhaps fleeting acquaintance between the five assembled. Curiosity was an old vice of his and he intended to indulge it.

He tapped his ring against the half-full martini glass, sending a clear ringing tone through the room for attention. I find silence both oppressive and unhelpful.... he intoned as he rose from his seat. His diction was precise and punctuated, sounding as if every crisply enunciated word were capitalized, his posture and movements military sharp if somewhat awkward. We were summoned here for reasons both obvious and yet unclear. Perhaps introductions are in order to alleviate at least some layer of mystery from our assembly. The Doctor spoke with an accent that was difficult to place exactly. Not strictly American nor entirely British but distinctly European...perhaps South African. Perhaps you'd like to begin. No one who wears a dress that stunning could be shy...

The tall Asian woman gives a slight grin at the well-dressed man's comment and takes a sip from her glass. In a faintly inflected reply she answers his challenge. "Arigato gozaimasu. Akari Arashi I am. And you sir? To whom is it my pleasure of a personal introduction?" She asks in return.

She wasn't the only one, that wasn't the a surprise. An alliance contact had flagged it to her, so she knew it wasn't exclusive. The question was was it an open call as they needed a team, or they just thought the more people who answered the higher change someone would get it done. She didn't care either way. As a bounty hunter the person who brought in the mark got the pay out, but sometimes it took a team to track down the more weaselly or stubborn targets.

She leans against the bar drinking, but her eyes flick over to one as he starts speaking. He was...odd. The others she could smell the essence, the gift, something, but not on him. Was he suppressing it. That or he was extremely brave if he was in fact mundane.

As the asian woman speaks up she makes note of the name, before chiming in herself. 'Rylani Noah. Bounty hunter.' Her british accent hasn't been diminished by her years spent tracking targets in America. She tips her beer towards the pair in greeting before taking a sip, returning back to observing.

Akari returns the British bounty hunter's polite gesture; raising her glass slightly in salute before taking another sip of her sake.

My name is Avel. the Doctor returned the introduction, somewhat dramatically, as if he expected the name to carry some weight. Doctor Douglas Emil Avel.. An awkward pause followed before he continued, his blue eyes searching for a possible flicker of recognition in the others' eyes.
He cleared his throat and continued, rolling the unlit cigar between his fingers as he spoke, All pleasantries aside, the details of my life are quite...inconsequential...really in comparison to whom, or rather what, you may be. The Doctor circled the high backed leather chair he'd been seated in as he spoke, turning to regard the others in the VIP lounge when he felt it necessary to punctuate his language. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? We're all here at the behest of "the Alliance"... he actually used 'finger quotes' as he spoke ...so I'd like to know if anyone else knows why we've been summoned? Hm?

The Doctor caught the young hostess as she walked nearby, quaffing down the dregs of his martini before setting the glass on her tray. Another, if you please. Heavier on the Goose than on the Vermouth this time. We're not stripping paint here.

Carter watches the people talking and eventually akwardly stands to introduce himself. He runs a nervous hand through his hair. He'd much rather be driving at break neck speed while being shot at than talk in front of a lot of strangers. "Name's Carter. Don't even know why I'm here. Just an ordinary wheelman."

Having said his words, he sits back down, wishing he had gotten a beer. But alcohol and driving was a bad combo, and it would have to wait.

"Reminds me of a joke..."

Vidar didn't elaborate further. He was still working on his modern art project. So engrossed was he in his work he nearly knocked his glass off the table, catching it before a drop was spilled he raised it to his lips and gulped its contents down. Setting it back to the side, as if he meant to do it.

Vidar worked diligently, and with a fair bit more grace than his physique suggested. He was surprisingly dexterous and nimble considering the bulk of his size. Not enormous, for even in this room there were taller and larger specimens, but he had a gravity to him, even seated as he was his latissimus muscles and trapezoid muscles formed a hood not unlike a cobra's. Just a few years ago, he may have been an Olympic athlete. This only served to make his eccentric behavior more put of place with his "look."

He was equally unconcerned and uninterested in the conversation. Whether he was being rude on purpose or because he didn't understand that modern people talked before acting, anyones guess. He did look up scan the room, lingering only on the ladies in their surprisingly similar fashion choices. This caused him to smirk. But, shortly thereafter he returned to his art piece.

Quite a contrary Dr Avel. The fact that you may be what others call inconsequential as you put it makes me curious, that you are willing, an capable, or working alongside us.' At least that was what he had assumed by his words. Whether he had hoped they rest would share more specifics of their supernatural qualities she wasn't sure, but she at least like to keep her hand close to her chest.

'I unfortunately don't have any details. I work with alliance time to time, my contact flagged this to me. Given none of you run in my circle, unless you are all brand new or very good at being discrete, I'm guessing its more than just tracking down a person. It will be a nice break I suppose.'

She glances over at the one who called himself Carter. He seemed young and more nervous than everyone else. She made a mental note to keep an eye of him. If the message had got to him someone saw potential, but a trial by fie wasn't always the best way to realise such potential.

Drinking down the last swalow from her glass and handing it off to the lovely cocktail waitress, Caley, with an indication of having another, Akari seats herself finally and glances at the out-of-shape bodybuilder's food diversion. "A person's true worth is measured by more than the circumstance of their birth, dear Doctor, and being born of privilege, whether by affluence or genetics, does not insure one's quality in the schemes of all existences."

I suspect none of us here could be considered...Ordinary...by any stretch of the imagination, Mr. Carter. the Doctor countered, his hands resting on the back of his chair as he stood behind it. His face held a quiet smirk, as if he knew more than he was letting on. I can appreciate the skills of an accomplished Wheelman. I've had more than a few in my employ in years past. No doubt whomever assembled the lot of us together has a similar appreciation for such skills. No?

His blue eyes scanned across the room again,Each of us here has a rather unique set of skills. A Wheelman, a Bounty Hunter, a woman of action one could surmise from you choice of dress Ms. Akari, myself and a...bulbous food architect perhaps? He scooped the fresh martini from the server's tray and took a long, slurpy sip. Much better, my dear. Compliments to the bartender.

Resuming his thought trend, he continued As I was saying, this is no random assemblagé despite none of us having any solid connections to one another. We're here for a purpose. A mission. I was curious if any of you had more information than I about it.
On that matter, I quite agree Ms. Akari.
The circumstance of one's birth may color one's existence but do not predetermine it. The Doctor adopted a bit of a distance to his gaze, perhaps reminiscing for a moment, As for myself, I was born in Bruges to the destitute owner of a french bakery with mental instability issues and his underaged mistress. We traveled the world pursuing one addled dream after another until he was institutionalized and she died of a tropical illness contracted in Rangoon. My circumstances were not one of privilege yet I rose to no small prominence in both academia and my...chosen profession. It seems that the rise of the Church has put all of that behind me just as it has affected others.

My apologies if I was unclear about what I had meant. the Doctor shifted mental gears after indulging his reverie. Let me be more clear... While I am Human, I don't believe that is the case for everyone here...at least, not entirely human...but something More. That idea has fascinated me since I discovered the existence of such things shortly before the emergence of The Church.
I never considered myself as inconsequential, only the details of my past. I place much more interest on what you are. I've made myself quite familiar with humanity but those that lay beyond it are a source of deep curiosity to me. Things such as this were legend and conjecture until the rise of The Church brought things of legend into the light. He felt as if he needed to clarify before verging into fanboying, I am a scientist. The idea that there is a whole new realm of previously unknown knowledge to research motivates me deeply. I wish to understand what was previously unknowable. Working alongside "the Alliance" he again used 'finger quotes', gives me such an opportunity. That and working with "the Alliance" 'finger quotes' is also a condition of my parole. the last part he said quickly and under his breath.

Rylani lets out an amused chuckle as the doctor once again emphasises on 'What' they are. She was almost tempted to see how many times he would have to repeat it before somebody finally decided to divulge.

'You are asking what makes us not human Doctor? That is something a lot like to keep to their chest unless necessary. Especially those who grew up in a time they had to stay hidden. Some of us not even just for our supernatural side.' While the situation the world know found it in with the Church was dire, it was one where the feral had learned to thrive, compared to a life of hiding and shame before hand. She keeps sipping on her beer eyeing up everyone else. With the unique mix of skills this seemed more of a team situation than a competition to see who completed the task first situation. Sharing a little may not hurt

'I will grant you one thing, I am aided by the spirits of the Savannah, as my father and those before him were. How and to what capacity? Once we hear this job and if we all agree to work together I will go into the details you will need to know.'

"Hmm..."

Vidar was about one third of the way finished with the last part of the skyscraper. It was unclear if he was even listening to the conversation or if, entranced as he was, he even registered the conversation. Each repeated motion, identical in timing, fluidity, grace. One could almost feel the sublime relaxation. For Vidar, in spite of the alcohol, seemed truly passive.

"... not ready for that plunge yet."

Vidar looked up and fixed the Doctor Avel with a strange, knowing stare, his crimson lips curled into a funny grin. It boasted with certainty, Vidar knew something the good doctor did not. He fixated just long enough for Emil to meet his own green and golden eyes. As the light caught his face, Vidar's natural highlights were pronounced. His hair, brindle as it was, had stripes patterns of blue-black, yellow-gold, and copper-red. The pattern of which matched the severe symmetry of Vidar's face.

He was either highly mutated modern man, or more Neanderthal than anyone who had walked the face of the Earth for many aeons. The eyes, bright with intelligence, lacked all cruelty. They seemed kind, but very deeply sad. The young man did not even attempt to hide these emotions. Running his fingers through his beard, emulating the classic pose of the thinking man Vidar continued.

"Remember we are all brothers, and sisters. All plants, and rocks, trees, and creatures. We are all descended from The One Great Being. Who was always there before time moved to mark it, before words existed to name it."

Finished, Vidar began dissecting another cocktail onion.

Akari thanks Caley for the refill and tilts up her glass for a taste. She swallows and rolls her eyes with the food architect's words. Its not the first time over the centuries she has heard the propaganda on a One Greatest Deity who created everything.

Seeing that he had either dumbfounded or exasperated the room Vidar just chuckled and shook his head. He was sticking to his guns.

"What that means is that in a roomful of strangers, it is infinitely easy to spot the differences. But cohesion is only possible when one finds common ground. We are all unique creatures. But that is obvious. In that there are things that make us exceptional, of this I'm certain. But that doesn't help us work together. A meek wheelman, a snarky assassin, a verbose bounty hunter, some kind of direct biogeneticist, and a completely ordinary archeologist, where is our common ground?"

Avel sat back down in his leather chair and crossed his legs as the large man spoke. It would seem we have little in common at the moment, but I suspect someone else will soon be providing a unifying goal.. He slurped the martini before setting it on the table beside the chair. Barring that, there are still a few things that provide commonality between us, no matter if we do not all belong to the same metaphysical circles.. He cleared his throat, Given that we are all associates of finger quotes 'the Alliance'. Yes? No? pausing he looked around for agreement or opposition. We can all find common ground in opposition to the Church of the Apocalypse. Yes?

Akari takes another sip from her glass.

"So..is the enemy of my enemy my friend?" She utters the question long pondered by many over the millennia. "That is yet to be seen."

Rylani gives a chuckle at being called verbose as she finally orders another beer.

'Well one common thing is that the alliance is able to gather us with the promise of money.. or some kind of reward I guess. I will say while given we are very different in skills we would work be working together, I am no stranger to being gathered and told a job, and that those around me are the competition. It stops people slacking on the job if there is a chance someone will beat you to it.

'Still I more concerned on why it seems to be alliance associates rather than their actually members being gathered. Is it something they are willing to risk friend but not family for?

"I'm really just puzzled as to what these people need me for. I'm may be an expert on norse mythology, but my research well..." Dr. Tyrz waved his hand and screwed his face up, it wasn't a happy look. "When I began comparing Hittite civilization to Bronze Age Protonorse it wasn't well recieved."

My guess would be deniability, expendability or both... the Doctor responded to the Bounty Hunter, somewhat bemusedly. It's no secret that the war against the Church of the Apocalypse isn't going well at all. Indeed, why not use tangential assets in favor of more...trusted or reliable...operatives. Use the reserves, as it were, to avoid fatiguing your regular troops.
a sound strategy, it's what I'd do. . He popped an olive in his mouth and chewed as he regarded the others assembled.

Given that none of us appear to be in any competition with one another, I wouldn't be sure that analogy holds, Ms. Akari. he swallowed the olive as he spoke. None of us, by necessity, must be considered as mutually opposed. Perhaps a more apt analogy would be as strangers who find themselves in the same lifeboat.

It remains to be seen who wants us and for what purpose. It would be difficult to ascertain the usefulness of your research without knowing what knowledge would indeed be useful. the Doctor turned in his seat to reply to the hulking man at the table. In this day and age, things that once seemed outlandish may hold more truth than what we all mistook for reality not so long ago. Yes? No? he looked at the others as if for some kind of validation. The premise of your study isn't unsound.
The Hittite civilization broadly coincided with the European Bronze Age but the details would be in evidence to support your thesis.

Just as Dr. Avel finishes speaking, the curtained entrance to the VIP area ripples. A bouncer parts the red velvet, and three figures stride into the room. They are presumably the Alliance representatives, though members of the organization bear no distinguishing uniforms or insignia.

The Alliance is an international group that exists expressly for the purpose of battling the Church of Revelations. It functions as a loose coalition of governments, powerful individuals, and disparate secret societies that have united in a bid for self-preservation. Victory for Leviathan would mean the end of everything as intelligent beings understand it, and so the Alliance has succeeded in securing cooperation from factions, both mundane and supernatural, that would normally never work with one another. Among its impressive roster of members, the Alliance counts many free governments, military contractors, corporations, witch covens, ceremonial lodges, supernatural entities, and even several pantheons of gods. Not to mention the occasional angels and demons.

Two of the newly arrived individuals are dressed as though they've just stepped out of a meeting at a corporate boardroom. Each is sharply attired in the manner of a high-powered business professional. Both clearly put a lot of work into their appearance. One is a young woman, perhaps in her 20s or early 30s, with vaguely Slavic features. Her dark eyes study the room from behind a pair of stylish black-rimmed glasses, and her long dark hair is arranged in a bun with several loose strands hugging the sides of her face. Her light gray business suit is a form-fitting skirt with a white shirt, matching blazer, and Manolo Blahnik black pumps. Those of you who are fashion conscious can appreciate that she's wearing very Italian (and very upscale) brand names. From her perfect eyelashes to her well-manicured nails, the woman is flawlessly groomed, almost to an obsessive degree.

Likewise, the man standing at the woman's side is also young, Caucasian, and impeccably well-dressed. He is tall and slim with short blonde hair, blue eyes, a freshly-shaven face, and a two-piece tweed suit that looks obscenely expensive. The man is handsome in a very metrosexual kind of way. If you had to make a comparison, you could say that he has a passing resemblance to the Swedish actor Alexander Skarsgård.

The third individual, an African American gentleman, walks in last. Whereas the two yuppies plant themselves at the front of the room for all to see, the third man takes a more unassuming position leaning against the wall behind them, arms crossed at his chest. He's taller and more solidly built than the other two, and his attire is distinctly different. Instead of eye-catchingly expensive clothing, the man is dressed like a normal, everyday civilian: denim jeans, boots, and a fleece jacket with a hood. Still, something about his manner makes him seem anything but normal. His posture and bearing are those of someone with a military background, and the way his eyes scan the room indicate a persistent readiness for trouble. He studies each of you with the same wariness a person might give a stray dog of unknown temperament.

The woman waits a few seconds until she's certain that she has everyone's attention. A leather portfolio rests in the crook of her arm. The blond man is standing to her side and just slightly behind her. It's perhaps safe to assume that he's her subordinate or her bodyguard. The woman directs her gaze to the bartender and flicks her chin. Without saying a word, the bartender nods and abruptly leaves the VIP room.

Once none of the club's staff are present, the well-dressed blonde man pulls a stick of white chalk from the breast pocket of his coat. He approaches one of the walls adjacent to the room's curtained entrance and begins drawing on the dark concrete. He sketches a large circle filled with an array of symbols, and does so with the practiced speed of someone who has performed this task hundreds of times. He repeats this activity on each wall corresponding to one of the four cardinal directions - north, south, east, west. All the while, you can hear the man mumbling what sounds like Latin. The smell of chalk dust wafts through the air.

As her companion does his duties, the woman stands quietly without explanation. She eyeballs anyone who looks like they might speak up or interfere with the task at hand. After several minutes of incessant drawing, the man finishes his work and returns to the woman's side. He removes a handkerchief from another pocket and begins rubbing the chalk from his now whitened fingertips.

"Good evening," says the woman. Her tone is dry and business-like. "Thank you for coming. I'm Nicolette Pope, and this is Luca. We are here on behalf of the Alliance." She neglects to introduce the third man leaning against the wall, though he doesn't seem to particularly care.

Ever the student of history, Vidar excelled in occult studies. He paid close attention to the ritual being performed marking it with his eidetic memory as a peculiarity and curio. It was odd to him to even see someone who by comparison was more superstitious than himself.

Instinctively he reached to his throat and produced a red metal amulet, it looked like an anchor but was decorated in various runes and staves. Mjolnir or at least a totem to Mjolnir. A like shield ring on his finger boasted a Tiwaz rune. Making a warding gesture was sufficient to relax him, when the bizarre behavior stopped. He attempted to replicate the sigil on a cocktail napkin.

"Doctor of Humanities Vidar Tyrz, though I can see my name in that dossier so I'm assuming you knew that. You look like a woman with answers. I can tell by the expensive cut of the suit. I suppose that makes him the functionary." Vidar gives a curt nod to the man adjacent. "And he's the muscle." To the man standing off to the side. "Which means this isn't some kind of joke by my colleagues and your benefactors truly believe I have something useful to your cause. Have I missed anything yet?"

Akari watches on with curiosity, ready to finally get down to the crux of things. She observes everything transpiring in the room around her. It was her way of it.

Carter has sat most of the conversation in silence, both studying his companions to be as well as feeling the odd man out. He nods at the newcomers, but neglects from introducing himself, they didn't ask for one and probably knew who he was anyway.

Rylani just gives a nod to the three as the enter, once again instinctively studying them and trying to figure them out.

The Doctor finished his second martini as Pope's assistant, Luca, drew the sigils on the walls of the lounge. As the process dragged on over the minutes, his slurping grew -perhaps intentionally- louder until the young man finished. He set the oversized glass down as Pope spoke, his blue eyes scanning the well dressed newcomers as well as those that had been invited here alongside him.

We're two martinis into a three martini lunch here, Ms. Pope. the Doctor dropped his olive back into his glass beside him as he leaned back into the leather chair and recrossed his legs. What exactly has -finger quotes- 'the Alliance' in mind for the lot of us? Hm? A little smash & grab? A heist? Exfiltration? Wetwork perhaps? His face betrayed a hint of enthusiasm at the prospect of getting back in the saddle, as it were, after being behind bars for so long.

As Vidar is the first to speak, Nicolette turns her attention to him. She briefly sizes him up before responding. "You are correct. We are aware of who you are. And no, this is no joke." She then motions to the man behind her and Luca. "That is Hayden Forrester. He is a captain in the United States Armed Forces. He is here representing the interests of the U.S. military."

Cpt. Forrester is still leaning with his back against the wall and his hands in his jacket pockets. He replies with a curt nod to all of you but otherwise doesn't respond.

When Dr. Avel speaks up, Nicolette swivels her head and glares at him. Though she doesn't strike any of you as a particularly warm person to begin with, something about her demeanor becomes extra icy when confronted by the doctor. Her eyes ever so slightly narrow as he makes his quips.

"Dr. Emil Avel, is it?" The question seems unnecessary as she clearly knows who he is. The Rosicrucian shifts her body to face him fully. "Just so we are clear, doctor, I was strongly opposed to your release. I've read your file. However, my protestations were overruled by others in the Alliance who believe that your..." She pauses as she searches for the right word. "...expertise is of potential value to us. We'll see if that's the case."

Nicolette redirects her attention to the whole room. "Forgive the precautions," she says, motioning to the wards. "The nature of this assignment is highly sensitive, so we can't afford any eavesdropping." She hands her leather portfolio to Luca, who opens it and begins rifling through some papers. "Before I can brief you on the work, I must get your assurances that anything we discuss in this room will remain secret, and that you will not reveal, of your own free will, any of the following information. Even if you choose not to accept this assignment, you will be expected to maintain your secrecy in perpetuity. Do otherwise, and there will be consequences. Under Article 15 of the Alliance Accords, you will be deemed guilty of treason. Do you all accept these terms? If not, leave now."

"Sure I've signed NDAs before. Though one wonders why the secrecy. I don't really care for the current worldstate. So anything to do with improving it. I'm all for."

Vidar made some notes on the cocktail napkin. Regarding its similarities to his own Atlantean studies the correlation of geometries and distinct allusion to different species of giant were of particular interest to him. He found the ritual fascinating and attempted to fix a few of the errors in assumption that they posed.

"Never understood the assumption that nothing exists." He muttered under his breath adjusting the vector of the symbols. He had studied enough Prime, and Atlantean to know that Hermetic Esoterica was drawing on The Calculus. The problem being the western misunderstanding that Zero was a placeholder for nothing, instead of an introduction of uncertainty. He stood up and admired the physics of the Esoteric Ritual.

By obviating the idea of Zero, the geometries became trigonometry, each individual symbol was itself a frequency, a vibration which supposed where an absolute location was. It was a simple enough thing to fix a position, but that in turn changed the direction. "Ah physics is weird."

With a chuckle he turned his finding over to the man who inscribed them. "Hey wouldn't this be a better proof against observation. I've noticed mathematics has this funny need to say that nothing exists. But isn't that a logical fallacy? Nothing is not a thing right? What do you think about this?"

Anyone who could understand The Calculus could at least figure out some of the foundational precepts of High Athalian. The language itself being The Calculus had exacting definitions, for all existing things.

Forrester? Hm... the Doctor considered the plain clothed military officer behind the two Rosicrucians. I worked with a Dr. Forrester a couple of decades back through a think tank associated with the University of Minnesota. A multi-disciplinary study on the psychological effects of extended stays in deep space on astronauts. Something that will no doubt prove useful in the not too distant future... assuming the Church can be held in check or overcome. I wouldn't suppose you'd be related? No? Avel waited for a response but did not expect one. He figured Forrester for the silent type but wasn't willing to dismiss other possibilities. He was intrigued by the fact that the Captain chose to arrive in civilian attire instead of uniformed. Secrecy, no doubt.

Your objection to my presence is noted, Ms Pope. Fortunately, more...enlightened...minds prevailed. the Doctor returned her icy tone, somewhat amused to spar with her. Among the reasons I agreed to work with 'finger quotes' 'the Alliance' was not only my early release from prison but that under the banner of 'finger quotes' 'the Alliance' disparate groups of the hidden, the occult, the normal and the paranormal could work together in the effort to staunch the advance of the Church of the Apocalypse, turn the tide and defeat it.
Dismissing valuable assets based on preconceived notions of prejudice only aids the efforts of our common enemy. Would you agree this is true, Ms. Pope? Avel stood slowly out of his chair, the barest smirk curling the side of his mouth. He knew she was dangerous to provoke but he took a perverse thrill in it; this kind of behavior had cost him dearly before but he simply couldn't resist.
I am prepared to offer my services, should they be needed, and my secrecy so long as you and your representatives deal fairly and honestly with our Pentaverate here. Agreed? he crossed his hands in front of him as he spoke.

Rylanis eyes flick to Dr. Avel the second it is mentioned he had been imprisoned before. For someone constantly going about what someone was and their secrets he had definitely concealed one of his own. That combined with one describing themselves as a ;wheelman; a term she normally heard in regards to gangs nad thieves this seemed like a task she would need to be caution on.

The NDA causes an eyebrow to be raised. More secrecy. Still she had enough stories to tell around a beer she could manage not being allowed to tell this one. Plus the secretive missions paid more. She silently gestures some papers over and signs them, even as she watches Avel and Pope, trying to glean any knowledge she can from their interaction.

Finishing off her second drink, Akari just listens and watches. 'So much politics and posturing.' She thinks, wishing she had ordered that third drink before the staff vacated the room.

Silently Carter quickly signed the papers with a shrug. The Alliance had enough information about him to make his life hell anyway, just proper that he would get some secrets of his own after all.

Dr. Avel addresses Cpt. Forrester and mentions having known another man with the same surname. When questioned if there is any relation, the captain nods slowly. "He was my uncle." The man's facial expression and tone of voice don't change at all, as though they're locked in place.

Luca stops and glances at the napkin that Vidar hands to him. He eyes the statuesque man suspiciously but takes the napkin and gives a cursory examination of the equations written upon it. Nicolette interjects brusquely. "Leave the discourse about magical theory for after the briefing."

Luca turns and dutifully nods to her. He then proceeds to pass an NDA to each of you. The page long document appears to be a standard unilateral non-disclosure agreement, but with one exception. While NDAs are typically civil contracts and breaking them isn't technically a crime, this particular contract makes it very clear that violating the agreement is a breach of national security with legal consequences. Presuming all of you sign it, Luca comes around to collect the papers and place them back into the leather portfolio.

Nicolette again shifts attention to Dr. Avel as he speaks. As he retorts to her earlier remarks, she listens with an expression of silent judgment. Though it seems that she wants to respond, the Rosicrucian leader seems unable or unwilling to engage in a verbal sparring match with the good doctor at the moment. "So long as you adhere to the terms of your release, Dr. Avel, I will accord you every opportunity to do what you were brought here to do."

She looks around the room, addressing everyone. "It's not happenstance that you five were contacted. You are either top experts in your particular fields, or soldiers and killers of some reputation. You each possess skills or abilities that, according to our files, make you appropriately suited to the Alliance's needs. And I assure you all that, as with any covert operation, the secrecy for this assignment is more than necessary." Nicolette pauses for effect. "Some of you have done jobs for the Alliance before, so you understand how this works. For others, this may be a new gig. If helping to fight the Church of Revelations isn't enough of an incentive for you, know that you will be handsomely remunerated for the successful completion of your assignment. If you do not succeed, there will be no payment. In such a scenario, however, you'd likely be dead, so it wouldn't really matter."

Nicolette continues. "Freelance work is potentially profitable but also tends to be especially dangerous. Although I detest the idea of paying contractors to get things done, the simple reality is that a small team of freelancers can often accomplish certain objectives that would be more challenging for our regular forces. Hence why you are here."

Akari glances at the agreement form and signs in traditional Japanese script, before handing the signed document back to Luca.

"I just want to say boss lady, I think it's really great that there is all this top secret spy shit happening. I think it's probably in the top ten coolest things that has happened to me. But..."

Vidar looked to his new colleagues. Each of them even the doctor seemed like soldiers and professionals. Neat haircuts and clothes, professional skillsets that made the law and criminal elements of society tremble. Archetypal scary bad asses all of them. He looked at a combined room of people who only needed go to the nearest piece of modern technology and turn it on to upstage his own expertise. "I find rocks and bits of metal from ages past and write books about them. Where does an archeologist fit in with modern warfare?"

Do tell Clayton I said 'Hello' should you have he opportunity to speak with him. Avel asked the Captain, idylly wondering if Dr. Forrester ever found a suitable candidate for his experiments.
The Doctor scanned and reviewed the NDA documents as they were handed to him. Turning it over, looking at it from odd angles, letting the light shine through it, etc... before signing it 'John Hancock style' with a fountain pen produced from his coat pocket. Freelance work is very profitable, yes indeed, but also deniable.
No doubt that deniability is the major asset for you with our venture. he handed the papers back to her. I'm familiar with running such operations as I suspect you well know, Ms. Pope. I believe since the five of us are likely on board, do let us in on the details. There was an eager, gleeful sparkle in his eyes at the prospect of getting back to doing what he liked most.

Nicolette clears her throat and waits until all eyes are on her. Standing at the front of the room, she seems at ease with public speaking. Her eyes take in all of you before she commences. "Six nights ago, Alliance forces, in cooperation with American special operations units, penetrated deep into Revelationist-held territory in Mexico. These forces were under orders to locate a facility near the city of Guadalajara, in the Mexican state of Jalisco. According to intelligence, the facility is a former military base-turned-weapons lab." She pauses briefly. "It's been known for years that the Army of Revelations conducts all manner of experimentation and research, most of which is into new forms of weaponry. Some is mundane technological weapons development. Some is occult in nature. Regardless, we estimate that the Revelationists have many such facilities scattered throughout the world. It's such places that produced the Crusader JX-Ts and other advanced fighting vehicles that the Alliance has had to contend with."

"This lab was different, however. The Alliance had good reason to believe that something was happening in that lab; something beyond the Church's standard, already inhumane research. It was believed that experiments of an all-together different variety were being conducted in Guadalajara. As such, our forces went in to collect and destroy what we could. It was a costly operation. A lot of good soldiers lost their lives that night."

Nicolette reaches into her blazer and pulls out what appears to be a small black digital recorder. She holds up the device and presses a button. "This recording is one of the only things that made it out of that lab."


Audio File

'Well that sound delightful.' The sarcasm is clear in Rylani's as the recording finishes.

'So there is a supernatural creature on the loose, and a woman who is host to a human creature hybrid. On top of that, the Church is looking for a way to track down people of a specific bloodline, and are desperate enough to resort to genetic experiments? Anything I have missed?' The feral looks around the room trying to read everyone else's reaction to the information they have just learned.

'So what's the target. The cryptid? Casandra? Both? Or looking into this.. l line they mentioned?'

Vidar listened attentively to whoever was speaking. Unbroken eye contact and on the edge of his seat. He smiled, or rather smirked, when Nicole met his gaze. His interest was unambiguous as he quickly checked out her figure nodding admiring the pose and cut of her clothing. When directed he likewise stared directly at the device playing back the recording, again unblinking fully focused.

So too with Rylani although he maintained a professional composure there. No smirk just straight laced face, even though he still gave her a quick look up and down. He still hung on her words.

"L line is a reference to Scandinavian genetics, at least in terms of lineage. But that particular field is outside my expertise. Based on the description it sounds like they're attempting hybridization of the Chupacabra with various mammals. And producing successful results which is both alarming and kinky."

Avel sat for a moment as the others spoke, wheels obviously turning inside mind. The limited information resulted in scant few answers but a multitude of questions.

Why? Avel asked Pope directly. Why is this of such interest to you or finger quotes 'the Alliance' that you need to assemble an 'off the books' team to handle it? The recording may be all that survived the raid but there's more information you've yet to disclose... The Church regularly employs the use of monstrous things as shock troops, air support or population control but something about this is unsettling enough to warrant special attention. Yes?. Avel pursed his lips looking around at the others for potential validation. Is this a simple mop-up operation to terminate this C-93 and the escaped woman or is this a recovery mission for one or both before the 'R' mentioned in the recording recovers the targets? Or are there other possibilities on the table?

Nicolette looks to Rylani and nods as she speaks. "Your summary of the main points is accurate, Miss Noah. The recording indicates that the Church captured or summoned a creature and made attempts to hybridize it with other organisms. They only seemed to achieve success with dogs, horses, and, unfortunately, humans. Both the creature, C-93, and the human subject, C-93-H, apparently escaped and their current whereabouts are unknown."

Nicolette glances around the room. "We believe that we have identified the woman known in the recording as C-93-H, or Cassandra Briers. About eighteen months ago, an American soldier named Cassandra Marie Briers disappeared during combat along the Mexico-Texas border. She was a corporal in the United States Army. She vanished in the midst of heavy fighting in El Paso between the U.S. military and Revelationist forces. Most of her platoon was slaughtered, though her body was never specifically recovered, and so she was later classified as Missing In Action. Aside from sharing a name, we have other reasons to suspect that Cpl. Briers and C-93-H/Cassandra are the same person. A number of psychic and oracular assets within the Alliance have confirmed that it's her. However, as you know, seers and witches don't deal in hard data. They can only offer gut feelings and vague visions, so there is no absolute guarantee that it's her."

"We estimate a 98.3% likelihood that they are the same individual," adds Luca. It's the first time that he's opened his mouth this evening.

Nicolette continues. "If we're correct, it means that Cpl. Briers was abducted by the Revelationists, taken to the Guadalajara facility, and experimented upon in a most grotesque fashion. It also means that she has gotten free and is now in hiding somewhere in enemy territory. Your assignment is to locate Cassandra Briers and bring her back to the United States. Back to Alliance holdings. Consider it a rescue operation of sorts."

The Rosicrucian turns her attention to Vidar. "The Alliance and U.S. intelligence community have yet to determine what the 'L-Bloodline' might be. Modern medicine has no existing scholarship about an L-Bloodline. I'm not certain if there is any connection to Scandinavian lineages, but that may be an avenue for us to consider. The experiments conducted in Guadalajara went under the codename 'Project Laguz.' Laguz being the Elder Futhark rune meaning 'water' or 'ocean.' I don't doubt that Dr. Tyrz could expound on the rune some more for us. We do know that the original creature in question, Cryptid-93, has some connection to water. Perhaps the L-Bloodline is the 'Laguz-Bloodline', but that's pure speculation. The truth is that we don't know."

Luca also pipes in. "Not much survived the raid, but what little information was salvaged indicates a combination of technological and paranormal processes. There is evidence of advanced genetic engineering, as well as occult rituals and formulae from a number of magickal traditions, including Aztec and Norse. Mystical syncretism isn't unusual for the Church. The Revelationists have shown themselves willing to steal and combine various forms of occultism to achieve whatever works. They're magpies of magic."

"Dr. Tyrz," says Nicolette. "You asked earlier why the Alliance would be interested in someone with your expertise for this mission. Well, before you all embark on your assignment, there is material that needs to be analyzed by you and Dr. Avel. Some of the information recovered from Guadalajara includes schematics, scientific research, and writing samples that appear to be Norse. You two would be best suited to studying this information, which might provide more insight into what the Church is trying to do."

When Dr. Avel presents his questions, Nicolette listens patiently and responds. "You're correct that the Church has fielded monstrous beings in the past. The Shaitan and the Arisen being two examples. But the supernatural units used by the Church tend to be deployed for very specific situations, and they frequently suffer from major weaknesses that we can exploit. In the case of the Shaitan, while they are effective against infantry forces, they are easily dispatched by armored units or artillery fire. Likewise, the Arisen are zombified soldiers who lack critical thinking, initiative, and adaptability. Thus, they can be readily outmaneuvered by living combatants; this is why the Church often uses Arisen as disposable canon fodder rather than valuable tactical assets. The Church has also been known to magically summon supernatural creatures, though nearly no supernaturals in their right mind will serve Leviathan willingly." Nicolette's already stern-looking face grows slightly more dire. "The Alliance is concerned that Project Laguz is the Church's attempt to breed new inhuman soldiers to add to its ranks. Currently it costs the Church mystical resources to bring forth the Shaitan and raise the Arisen. The ability to easily or quickly replenish supernatural units would be disastrous for the war effort."

Again, Luca pipes in. "In regard to the 'R' mentioned in the recording, we think this is in reference to an individual named Rainer Kreighoff. Are any of you familiar?"

Carter is barely able to hold back a laugh. He was well on his way to the Mexican border when he was recruited and dragged back here. And now the mission is heading in that direction. The thought is enough to distract him from the conversation for a small moment. He don't know how much he missed, but he catches the name Rainer. He leans back and thinks on where he might have heard the name before.

Rylani's lips pull back into a snarl at the mention of shaitan. The spirits that aided her were guides, friends and allies, though other feral may disagree, but the spirits that formed Shaitan, they went against nature, corrupted it in her eyes.

'As much as I am all for less Shaitan being called up in the world, I do not like the idea of resource cheap soldiers, when they are on the opposite side. I will help track down Casasndra. That is what I am good at after all. She tips her bottle before sipping from it.

'Still, always good to gather more information before heading into the unknow. Do you have any idea was C-93 is? While Dr. Tyrz here suggests Chupacabra.. you say they may be aquatic? Forgive me I am not knowledgeable on the creatures of South America. My targets tends to be more... humanoid.'

Avel digests the information provided by Ms. Pope and her assistant as the others ask their questions. I would be willing to lend my considerable expertise to the analysis of the recovered materials and documentation from Guadalajara. Perhaps between Doctor Tyrz and I, we can shed more light on the subject. I cannot speak to his willingness, however. Given the multidisciplinary efforts of these Revelationists, we may also need someone from your field of expertise, Ms. Pope. I'll admit my finger quotes Abracadabra is a little rusty... the Doctor smirked at his own joke; his wheezing mirth fading under Pope's stern gaze.

I would also assume that time would be of the essence in rescuing C-93-H, Cassandra Briers, given her state as both a fugitive-in-hiding behind enemy lines and carrying a fetus of unknown nature? Yes? Avel asked, finger stroking his chin as he thought, planned and schemed. Has there been any contact with her since the escape or will this be a search and rescue?

Listening attentively Vidar nods when he understands the information being presented, but he had a curious habit of cocking his head to the right and raising his eyebrow slightly when something new or outlandish was presented to him. He paid close attention to the details being given and conjecture surrounding the task at hand. He paid double close attention to Dr. Avel's assessment, rightly affirming his supposition of the man's genius level intellect. Vidar felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly crushed it. "Better a man be medium wise:
A measure of wisdom each man shall have,
But never too much let him know;
For the wise man’s heart is seldom happy,
If wisdom too great he has won." He recited the Wisdom of All-Father in his internal monologue.

When mention of the bloodline came back around again he interjected. "Laguz literally means body of water. So the creature might be aquatic. Laguz can also mean the shadowy realities on the other side of the mirror. The esoteric value of the rune can imply dreaming, or unconscious knowledge. Considering the context I believe it refers to 'becoming'." He stressed the word with finger quotes as to emphasize it was an approximation. "Our modern vernacular would use the word mutation, or evolution to mean what the Norse implied by this. Much of the runic script is prosaic in nature and does not have a literal translation that means anything sensical in modern languages and devoid of specific context the runes can just as easily represent numbers or grid coordinates. It's no surprise though, that norse has been used in these experiments. Many of Himmler's occult experts escaped Nazi Germany to central and South America"

One other possibility could involve the being known as finger quotes "Loki" as the reason for the "L" in the L-Line designation. Avel mused. Dr. Tyrz knowledge of such is greater than mine but I do remember that particular mythical entity being plenipotent. he stopped himself to see if anyone in the room followed his train of thought. Deciding to take things down a notch, he switched gears to bring his point to a more relatable level. ...capable of mating with and producing offspring from various other creatures. The entity known as finger quotes "Loki" is responsible for a number of hybridized creatures in Norse myth. Notably the creature known as finger quotes "Fenrir", a wolf...a dog, and finger quotes "Sleipnir", a horse.. He looked around, lips pursed, to see if anyone agreed with his theory. Given the Revelationist's difficulty combatting the entity calling itself finger quotes "Thor" in the North Sea, seeking a solution to that would be well worth the Church's time and resources.

Rylani raises an eyebrow at Dr. Avel's quotation marks. 'What's the matter Dr, don't believe in gods even whilw the world's gone to shit?

Still I would hope Loki is not involved. From what I understand the L - Line, Laguz, that is seperate from C-93. Just C-93 is capable of tracking certain lineages. So by breeding a controllable hybrid they can track down this L-line for whatever they want with it... She looks at Nicollette seeking confirmation.

Captain Forrester pushes off from the wall and takes several steps forward until he is standing next to the two magicians. He addresses some of the questions himself. Like Nicolette, his tone is professional but with a gruffness that the Rosicrucian woman lacks. "Not much is known about Kreighoff prior to the war. He's an Austrian national and served as a Jagdkommando in the Austrian Armed Forces. He was one of the early converts to the Church of Revelations and seems to have joined the Church some time in 2006 or 2007, before the appearance of the Dark Apostle and the destruction of Munich. Kreighoff eventually rose through the ranks to become an Adept for Leviathan. Unlike most Adepts, who administer to congregations, he decided to forego the usual duties of the priesthood and instead focus on crushing the enemies of the Church. He now operates as a manhunter and assassin for the Revelationists. He is a member of the Mendicant Knights of Leviathan, a religious warrior order within the Church, and his status gives him a large amount of latitude in pursuing his quarries. He's even been known to slip into free territories to capture or kill targets."

As if on cue, Luca removes a black and white 8.5x11 printed photograph for his portfolio and begins passing it around. Cpt. Forrester continues. "This is the only known surviving photograph of Kreighoff from before the war. When he was still fully human." The captain allows a moment for the photo to make it around the room. "I'm here at the behest of SOTFCOM. The U.S. military's primary agenda, along with foiling the efforts of Project Laguz, is to rescue Cpl. Briers. She's a loyal soldier trapped behind enemy lines, and we want to bring her home."

"Currently, we don't know why the Church is interested in the L-Bloodline or why it may be trying to seek the bloodline out. Laguz, Loki, your guess is as good as ours. It is true that the Church is struggling against the servants of the Norse Pantheon in the Scandinavian region. In fact, the Alliance credits the Aesir with being the reason the Nordic countries haven't fallen to the Church. So, to Dr. Avel's conjecture, it may be true that the Church is seeking solutions to deal with the Norse."

She looks to Rylani. "As far as Cryptid-93, we don't know what the creature is. The recording indicates something from Mexican or Aztec folklore, but little else is known. We suspect that C-93 may have been summoned to Earth by the Church, but from where, we can't yet say. Whatever the cryptid is, it’s supposedly capable of tracking the L-Bloodline. We hope the captured research materials can shed some light."

Nicolette turns her attention to Dr. Avel and Dr. Tyrz. "Your group will be leaving in two days time. We can't afford to wait any longer. Each day that Cpl. Briers spends behind enemy lines is another day she gets closer to capture. This means that you two have 48 hours to analyze several gigabytes of information. The material we acquired is only a sliver of what was found in Guadalajara. Unfortunately, the special operations team was discovered and forced to destroy the lab. Better to deprive the enemy of their research than leave it in their hands."

"The exact whereabouts of Cpl. Briers are not known to us. However, the Alliance counts several covens of witches amongst its membership. One of these covens, based in Salem, Massachusetts, conducted a multi-day Location ritual intended to track down the corporal for us. Using some of her personal items to establish a connection, the coven was able to partially pinpoint her current location. I say partially because using magic to see into conquered territories has long proven unpredictable. No one quite understands why, but once the population of an area begins converting to Leviathan worship, the local Essence fields become... warped. Scrying and other information-gathering invocations become less reliable. Given that Central America has been controlled by the Church for the better part of a decade, and most of its population has possibly been converted, it is getting more difficult to target sites in Mexico with metaphysical workings." Nicolette sighs. "We've narrowed down her location to a roughly hundred square mile area north of Guadalajara. It appears to Cpl. Briers is trying to make her way northward, presumably to the U.S. border. She has made no attempts to contact anyone, though we assume this is because she cannot."

The captain picks up where Nicolette leaves off. "By our estimates, Cpl. Briers should be in her first trimester, assuming a normal human gestation period. She is traveling alone in conquered territory and carrying a fetus that, by all accounts, poses a serious threat to her safety. Our intelligence indicates that Rainer Kreighoff arrived in Mexico City several days ago, so the Revelationists have a head start." He looks around the room with the unblinking expression of someone who has become inured to war. "I will be accompanying your team to Mexico to help retrieve the corporal."

Analyzing the information you have would go a long way towards answering the questions we all have,Ms. Pope. Avel remarked, practically salivating at the prospect of pouring over the retrieved data. I, for one, am quite eager to see what was recovered and try to make sense of it. The urgency with which you've come to us tells me that you have most, if not all, of the logistics in place for this mission. Yes? The Doctor hesitated for a moment looking to the well dressed woman for affirmation or denial.

She nods to Dr. Avel. "Preparations are being made as we speak to ready for your arrival in Mexico. Sending a large armed force to retrieve Cpl. Briers is not possible; the Mexican interior is too well defended. The United States is doing all it can just to keep the Army of Revelations contained to the border. So you can see why we need a small team that can slip into Mexico quietly. Unnoticed."

"The team that acquired the information you'll be analyzing, Dr. Avel, was a black ops unit deployed by SOTFCOM. Considered best of the best among human soldiers. Under cover of night, they successfully traveled from the coast to the weapons lab in Guadalajara without incident. They even managed to gain entry into a heavily secured military base and reach the laboratories within. Nevertheless, they were eventually discovered and combat ensued. The entire unit was slain, down to the last man, but not before detonating an explosive device and destroying that infernal place." Nicolette glances at Captain Forrester, whose face remains blank. From the mildly sympathetic way she looks at him, you get the sense that the captain might have known some of the soldiers who perished in the operation. She returns her attention to the rest of you. "That recording, as well as the other research data, was transmitted last minute to SOTFCOM via sat link. It was all that the unit was able to hastily deliver to us before making their honorable sacrifice."

"Because of that operation, unfortunately, Revelationist forces in the entire state of Jalisco are on high alert. That means your insertion into Mexico must be planned out. Carefully. It's not an ideal time to send in another team, but we have no choice. I do not envy you your task."

It isn't that I don't finger quotes 'believe' in such things, Ms. Noah, it's that I do not fully understand them and that informs my caution in addressing them.. Avel replied plainly. I operate comfortably within the realm of facts and science and while I recognize the existence of things...outside and beyond...that frame of reference, I treat such things with the same sceptical and critical eye as I do with any new discovery or assertion within it.. He cleared his throat and readjusted in his big leather chair to more comfortably speak with the bounty hunter, For you, magic and all the mumbo jumbo that goes with it is as certain and reliable as your cell phone. Whereas you know the why's and how's of the finger quotes 'mojo' that lets you do what you do, I know what makes your cellphone work. Both are equally fantastical and unseen forces yet one is understood by me and the other by you with no clear bridge between them. He pursed his lips and cracked a somewhat disturbing smile, If it helps, I reacted the same way when Fleishmann and Pons declared their experiments in finger quotes 'cold fusion' to be a success... The Doctor seemed amused by his anecdotal comparison.

'I had planned to gain several years before even considering going after Kreighoff. Several better hunters have lost their lives to him. I suggest wile all get Briars and get out.' Despite speaking words of concern Rylani words and face remain passive, giving nothing away.

' The personal effects the witches have used. Can you get them to us. They may stil carry a sent. It's a long shot, but if I know what it is I may be able to pick it up if we get close The sentence is nonchalant as if asking for a scent is perfectly normal.

'And you are wrong in one thing doctor. I do not understand all that is supernatural. I know of it and what can be done with it, but even the spirits that guide me can be temperamental. They caused a lot of problems in my youth, especially when I had to hide. I see them as friends, others an infliction. But you do not need to understand everything to make use of it. I don't know how the phone works, but it does and that's what matters. Rylani shrugs.

Nicolette nods to Rylani. "We can get you some of Cpl. Briers’ personal effects." She then looks around the room. "You will be leaving in 48 hours, so address any preparations that you need to make. We will provide you with the time and location for your departure. You will be flown by plane to the Point Loma naval base in San Diego. From there, you will be transported by sea vessel to a meeting spot off the coast of Baja California. Your group will transfer to a USN Sea Shadow stealth ship, which will transport you the remaining distance to Jalisco, Mexico. Under cover of night, the craft will deposit you on land near Puerto Vallarta. At this point, you'll be on your own. You will need to make your way eastward into the interior of Mexico, toward the general area in which we believe Cpl. Briers is currently located. Maps, troop movements, and all relevant intel about the Revelationists will be provided."

"The Location magic employed by the Alliance has narrowed down the whereabouts of Cassandra Briers to a 160 km area centered around the City of Aguascalientes. We believe that the corporal is somewhere in the city or hiding in the surrounding countryside. To reach Aguascalientes from Mexico's Pacific coastline, we will need to travel more than 200 klicks through enemy territory. An asset in the Mexican Resistance will equip our team with a vehicle upon arrival." The Captain looks at Carter. "It will be Mr. Bonham's job to drive us to our destination as safely and quickly as possible."

Aguascalientes, eh? the Doctor noted. Looks like we'll be in 'hot water' from the start.... He snickered and laughed at his own joke briefly, bemused by his quip before Pope's glare caused his chuckling to wind down awkwardly.
Mr. Seong can handle my affairs in my absence. Avel quickly changed gears and was serious again. I would not wish to waste time packing a suitcase that could be better spent analyzing the recovered data. There is much to do before our departure.... The Doctor stood from his chair and paced a moment before swivelling to face Ms. Pope.

It would be remiss of me to leave our soirée without discussing remuneration for our endeavors.... He looked at the assembled crew, lips pursed, regarding each. For some it isn't unusual to ask one to give everything for King and Country on the say-so of a superior. he nodded curtly but respectfully to Captain Forrester. We, however, are not such people. You are asking us to put everything on the line and provide world-class services at great personal peril. That deserves commensurate compensation, no?

He let the idea hang in the air for a moment before continuing, Nothing outlandish, of course. Something well within your considerable means, Ms. Pope. Let's say...
.
[dramatic pause]
.
One Million Dollars. you could hear him pronounce both 'L's in million and dollars.
.
I would forgo my part of the fee, of course, and redirect it to the remaining four. he continued. Each of the others would receive one hundred and twenty five thousand up front to settle any outstanding affairs in the next 48 hours before departure; the remaining one hundred twenty five thousand held until the successful completion of our mission, minus costs for lingering healthcare or funeral expenses. That sounds reasonable, right? . He looked to the others for affirmation.

Nicolette watches Dr. Avel for a moment. Her expression is unreadable. She doesn't laugh at his joke, but a sense of humor doesn't seem to be one of her strong points. After mulling over the suggestion, she says "A million is... doable."

Luca glances at her. He seems surprised but doesn't say anything. Nicolette continues. "If each of you provides us with an account number, I'll see that half of your portion of the payment is deposited before you leave. You will receive the rest upon successful completion of the assignment. Terms of fulfillment are that you bring Cassandra Briers back to the United States and into the custody of the Alliance. She must be alive, of course." She looks around. "Any questions?"

Carter sits there uncomfortably listening to the conversation when he suddenly hear Dr. Avel finally say something interesting. On hearing the sum Carter leans forward for the first time taking active interest. That's more than his last three takes alone.

That was a very large number. That much in one go, she could take a step back from work for a while and focus on her matters that needed...cleaning up.

Rylani's eyes flick to Dr. Avel. 'You are continuing to be the most interesting one in this room, despite saying we are the interesting ones. Why agree to walk into old Livathan territory, with supernatural creatures and possible a well renowed human and adept, if not for a very large sum of money.. Don't tell me you are hoping to acquire some of their research.

She swaps her focus to Forres ter. Briars is no doubt going to be watching over her shoulder. If I was in her situation I would be wary of any one approaching speaking of rescue, in case its a trap. Is there something, some knowledge, a phrase, anything that might indicate to her we are definitely with you, and the Alliance. While I'm sed to knocking out the people I'm hunting I feel she and you won't be best pleased if I have to resort to that.

The answer to your question, Ms. Noah , is quite simple. the doctor turned to address the bounty hunter. My work with finger quotes 'the Alliance' is an instrument of revenge.

He paced in front of his chair, signalling the coming exposition The Church of Revelations and the antics of its leader cost me my very lucrative business, my freedom and ten years of my life.
This is a personal slight that I feel needs to be repaid...with hefty interest. Yanking Goering's all but assured victory from his grasp, kicking and screaming, sounds like just like something the Doctor ordered. He chuckled darkly, if a bit goofily, with a cold gleam in his blue eyes.
That and these people... he gestured towards Pope & Forrester. are fighting this war all wrong and it's bothering me. The Doctor sat back down in his seat, It's the 'charge of the light brigade ' and the battle of Somme rolled together in an untidy package. Honestly, it's like watching a jaguar eat a faun.. He let the last bit drop with zero explanation before moving on, I'd like to begin examining the recovered data as soon as possible. The longer I have to review it, the better we can understand what and whom we're dealing with. Captain Forrester, I'll also need everything you have on Reiner Kreighoff and the operation that recovered the data.

Akari glances to Ms. Pope. "I have a question, if I May?" She pauses for a second before continuing. "Noted: You want Briars alive. But, what if there is no option for her safe return? Do we proceed with termination n order to keep the fetus from falling into the enemy's hands, much like the team did by destroying the lab and the research there? Or is the top priority to recover the fetus alive for Alliance research at all costs?"

Dr. Tyrz had read so much history. People never changed, modern humans liked to think of themselves as better than their ancestors. Often times they were identical, and in spite of their claims of being civil, it could not be further from the truth. Humans had become more brutal and comfortable with barbarism, not less. Initially he had started to doubt his assessment that Ms. Akari was the quirky assassin, until she asked that question. It didn't shock or surprise him, the Doctor was himself a brutal and violent person, at least on the surface. But it did disturb him at the candor with which it was broached.

He swallowed hard, cleared his throat and cracked open a bottle of mineral water. Pouring himself a glass he drained it, poured another and sipped it. "... cloak and dagger stuff I suppose." Vidar muttered to no one in particular. Raising his eyebrows he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I can't believe we even have to discuss that. No! We don't kill children. Even-No especially, if they're the children of our enemies. How would that make us any different than this death cult?"

Dr. Tyrz looked around for some support in this regard.

Forrester says, "That is a negative. American soldiers are trained to be hyper-vigilant in their interactions with the Church, as we know the Revelationists are capable of supernormal abilities, including those that generate illusions or influence the mind. There are code words that can be provided, but any privileged information could have been taken forcefully from her mind, and she knows this. Chances are that, no matter what we do, she isn't going to immediately trust us. We'll need to quickly convince her otherwise. Either that or sedate her... though lugging around a sleeping pregnant woman will make our return trip more challenging."
Captain Forrester pauses for moment before speaking. "If we find the corporal and are unable to extract her... then we'll need to consider all options." He looks at Vidar. "It's not only about the fetus. Leaving Cassandra Briers in the clutches of the Church, to be further experimented upon, could be considered a fate worse than death. Leaving her to the tender mercies of the Church is no mercy at all. Were I in the corporal's position, I would rather not be left alive if I couldn't be saved."

"If there are no more questions, I will conclude this briefing. Be at Hanscom Air Force Base, 9 am, in two days. Come prepared with whatever gear you think that you'll need. It will be your prerogative whether to bring weapons, so long as they are weapons that you can carry on your person. On the way to your destination, Captain Forrester will brief your team on the current state of Mexico, what to expect, and how to best blend in." She looks at doctors Avel and Tyrz. "In the mean time, you two will aid with analyzing and deciphering the material that was previously mentioned. You’ll also get access to Rainer Kreighoff’s dossier and body cam footage from the Guadalajara raid. Come to 1 City Square, Boston City Hall, tomorrow morning and you will be set up. Luca will assist you, as needed."

Those terms are acceptable.. Avel nodded, uncrossing his legs. I will see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Dr. Tyrz. I look forward to our collaboration. As for everyone else, watch your backs and we will meet again on the plane. . The Doctor had a long night of research ahead of him on a number of topics before he tackled the Revelationist data in the morning. Until we meet again, I bid you all adieu .

"Guess I have to get an alarm clock," Carter muses to himself as he raises from his chair. Then he adresses his new companions. "Anyone need a ride to the airport let me know."

Unless there are any other questions, comments, or concerns, the briefing concludes and people get up to leave. Captain Forrester and the two Rosicrucians remain in the room. They huddle together and begin conversing in hushed tones.

Those of you who left something at the coat check are able to collect your belongings without issue. Whether you stay to keep drinking or disappear back into the cool Boston night, you've been given much to think about.

Before leaving Vidar gave a spare key, and his address to Carter. He paid his bill and left to wander.

Dr. Tyrz was poring over the collected information studiously. His credentials allowed him early access to the library and he greeted Dr. Avel in the morning as he entered. "Couldn't sleep, new research materials, they give me jitters. This is a great opportunity, I only wish I could share it with the scientific community." Vidar began excitedly without even the curteousy of a greeting. Manic was an understatement. "There's an entire knowledge stone here no one has seen it, it's not in any books, near as I can tell it doesn't even come from Scandinavia either. Look here they're describing something, like a ritual, maybe a fertility celebration?"

Akari remains in the club after the meeting for another drink and bit of people watching.

The Doctor leaves immediately, summoning his trusty manservant Mr. Seong, to drive him immediately to his apartment to begin prepping for his research. While Seong packed his suitcases, which the Doctor insisted upon calling 'valises', and other random tasks Avel poured over cutting edge journals on genetic engineering, fertility treatments and atlases of the geography of Jalisco.
As suitably prepared as he could get in the scant amount of time available, the Doctor arrived at the location provided by Ms.Pope. He was unsurprised Tyrz had beat him to the location. The oversized anthropologist seemed like the sort to obsess over details and the information dangled before them yesterday was difficult to ignore.

Once they had both arrived, Avel went to work...

Just as they go to leave Rylani will ask Forrester if he is willing to give her access to anything of Briars that could help her learn what she is like. The rest of the vening will be spend drinking with any other who also stuck around, though not divulging much about herself. The two days she will study anything Forester is willing to give her, plus any known social media etc to try and gain a sense of who Briars is , and what her patterns may be.

Dr. Emil Avel and Vidar Tyrz



The next morning, each of you arrives at City Hall, the seat of city government for Boston and a major center of operations for the Alliance. Situated amidst an irregularly shaped plaza of red brick, Boston City Hall is a very striking building; a prominent example of Brutalist architecture. Some locals regard it as an architectural achievement; others deem it one of the ugliest buildings ever built. Its tapering shape, strong geometric angles, and cantilevered concrete protrusions stand in stark contrast to the glass and steel modernism of the surrounding skyscrapers. The building has a cold and aggressively unfriendly aesthetic made all the worse by graffiti-strewn walls and degradation from decades of acid rain. The soldiers also don't help.

The U.S. military is ever present. Armed soldiers in fatigues and body armor patrol the surrounding plaza in small teams, and several humvees with pintle-mounted weaponry are parked at the edge of the plaza's recessed fountain. A machine-gun nest made of sandbags is located not far from the front doors of the building. Inside it, an M2 Browning rests on a tripod; two infantrymen crouch beside the weapon and scan the area. Police cruisers are also located nearby, but with the increased militarization of police departments since the start of the war, it's getting more and more difficult to distinguish between cops and soldiers. Though it'd be technically inaccurate to say that Boston is under a state of martial law, the city's current dystopian atmosphere is enough to make it feel that way.

You enter the building under the watchful eyes of armed guards and security cameras. A familiar tall, well-dressed blonde gentleman is waiting for you in the lobby and intercepts you just before the security checkpoint. Luca greets you with little more than a curt nod and leads you through the checkpoint: a gauntlet of scanners, metal detectors, and stern-looking security officers. Though Luca remains unmolested by security, you both are not as lucky and get patted down thoroughly.

Following Luca's lead, you ascend a grand staircase of quarried stone steps and head down several hallways. Your destination is a large, vaulted room that was probably once a government council chamber but is now some sort of military command center. Spread throughout the chamber are tables holding monitors, laptops, and communications equipment. Dozens of power cables are stretched across the floor and duct-taped in place. Servicemen in green and gray army fatigues sit at various stations. Most are wearing headsets and coordinating with units throughout the city. The room is abuzz with conversations and activity. At the front of the chamber, an expansive map of the City of Boston is projected onto the wall.

Several soldiers in the room respond to Luca with nods of acknowledgement. The Rosicrucian magician leads you through the command center and through another door. You find yourselves in a carpeted antechamber. This room is furnished with a long conference table, chairs, and office equipment. You see a couple of laptops resting beside a small mountain of reports and other printed paperwork.

"The information that we need you to analyze is on those computers. Hard copies of any files that were images or documents have been printed for convenience," says Luca. "None of this information may leave this room with you. All of it must stay in here. I'll remain to assist you with whatever you may need. Tribune Pope has given you a 48 hour security clearance to assess this intelligence, so I suggest you make the most of it."

Vidar was set on edge by all the computers. He grit his teeth visibly upset by the presence of the terminals. Uncomfortable with even the mention that he would have to interface with the machines. "You're afraid of demonology? Do you even know what entity controls the application layer to the Internet? Nevermind." It took a quarter second for him to realize that the peacekeepers didn't care if they were wholly owned by Daemons.

Apprehension gripped him as he logged into the terminal. Interfacing with demons was never the most comfortable interaction. Vidar cast several curious inspections of Dr. Avel trying to ascertain the level of comfort the man had with the web of demonic entities that created the application layer of the internet.

He simply couldn't get comfortable interfacing with the machine. "My ancestors believed that the Aether was a trap. Full of half truths, and much Deception. Only the Siedheminn was permitted to dive into the web. But even that carried the stigma of being unmanly. I think modern man has forgotten this lesson. The Aether is only trustworthy for bias and pornography. If you're comfortable surfing by all means please, I would rather not defile myself."

Riiiight. Avel somewhat dismissively noted his academic compatriot's issues with the laptops available to them. According to the sticker on the terminal the entity that controls access to the Internet is named Anu Patel and he can be reached at extension 1147. Avel also assumed their access was being tightly monitored and controlled to avoid any information leaving the room.
He leafed through some of the stacks of papers and printouts and illustrations and photos to begin arranging them in some sense of order. I believe most everything you might need can either be printed or is already in hard copy of you'd like to begin review of those resources, Doctor. Given his co-reseacher's misgivings about computers, Avel ensconced himself in a seat and surrounded himself with a couple of the available laptops and went to work collating the vast amount of information presented to him.

"It didn't stop Odin and it won't stop me. I just find it curious that organizations that want to fight the forces or darkness use technology based entirely off binding Daemons as tools."

Vidar was obviously not unfamiliar with the computer as he logged into the web browser and began a boolean on certain Rituals trying to make sense of the one he couldn't decipher.

"Surely a man with your prodigious intellect has read The Keys of Solomon, or at least has experienced Goetia in one form or another in daily life"

Operating on his assumption that it was some form of fertility ritual lead Vidar down a very strange rabbit hole in the internet.

"You'd think that in a world where literal demons walk the streets, people would be more careful in their delving into the aether."

He found himself scanning through Zoroastrian mysticism and calls to the race of beings known as Anunaki. Wondering if there was some link. He kept diligently searching.

What would be so illogical in using every tool or weapon available to you to fight for survival? the Doctor asked without looking up from his keyboard, fingers rattling off notes as he flipped between research and composing his notes. Desperation can drive one to embrace concepts once found taboo, reviled or repugnant in order to achieve victory. Mankind's history is replete with such things. He stopped, looking off into the distance for a second as if you formulate a thought process, before turning to Vidar, Not so many years ago, I sold weapons to both sides of conflicts across the globe. he stated flatly, if not a bit wistfully. Each side convinced they were in the right. Each edge the opposition had over the other was an opportunity for them to sacrifice just a bit more of their self-determined righteousness in order to surmount that edge. Usually by increasing their spending on weapons, which I happily obliged of course. Avel returned to his rapid-fire typing even as he continued, In this current conflict, every side is reaching for any edge they can find and in this case the Church of Revelations has beaten the rest of the world to the punch on a majority of those and gained a significantly advantageous position.
The arrayed forces of the mundane, divine, infernal and magical worlds are all in retreat against the Church. The Church's primary edge that the rest of the worlds have yet to surmount is that that they have instilled the belief that it is unbeatable, untouchable. Break that illusion and you'll find a turning point in this conflict. Avel stopped his typing and looked directly at Luca, You can tell Pope that one's for free.

Switching gears suddenly, he continued his discussion with Vidar I have indeed read a great many works on religions. My father was a bit of a connoisseur of the Divine and dragged my mother and me across the world in search of something to explain the voices in his head. Whether they were divine or infernal or the malaise of an addled mind, who is to say, but they drove him mad and he expired in an asylum without ever finding his truth.
In fact, the first time I had my head shorn was by a Zoroastrian named Vilma when I was fourteen in some ceremony that only made sense to my father.. He passed his hand over his bald pate in rememberance of the moment. I continued to keep my head shorn afterwards to remind myself not to fall into the same dolor of obsession that the genius possess and the insane lament. That is to say, I have had my brushes with many religions and a great many people in this world use them to guide their daily lives. For me they inform me as a cautionary tale.

"Believe it or not, I'm a solipsism." Vidar replied thoroughly enjoying the conversation, he reached a baritone, a shocking contrast to his deep bass. "All religions tell the same tale. Of great icons, dying and giving mankind a light of flame to order the chaos. A fire in the dark creating a local "solar system." And they all tell of a time of a sky without eagles. But I believe the Voluspa is true. All Father, whatever that might be, I have always thought to be one perfect being. Truly Immortal, living long enough to see itself reincarnate. Teaching the next iteration of itself." Vidar queued a print of something he saw the pattern in, not knowing certainly, just noticing the similarity. "Look at the Tyr and Odin dichotomy. Tyr is said to be the Grandson of Odin's mother. But Tyr is the oldest God of the modern human. Preexisting Odin by millenia. Every successive religion tells his story. Because religion is an allegory. To a higher state of being. It wasn't until the modern age that we used religion as a tool to exploit wealth from other's."

He cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles as the printer began to retrieve his requested information. "I'm not saying I know. But all my research has indicated a single progenitor. One great man who is father to all modern man. Is that not the very same word they the religious call god?"

Everyone has to believe something in order to get out of bed in the morning. Avel countered. And some believe in those things quite strongly. For you it's this...belief...you have, others it's in the sanctity of whatever religion affirms them, other it's the pursuit of money or power. For me, it's the pursuit of knowledge. He looked up from the sheafs of chemical diagrams and anatomical illustrations, Before all of 'this', he waved his hands around, indicating the current state of the world, I was quite comfortable in believing that everything there is to know was within the grasp of the human mind. Shortly before the rise of the Church, I quite accidentally discovered that there was a layer of existence that had previously hidden itself from prying eyes like mine and that belief was shattered.

His expression became wistful, recalling better days, In the process of conducting due diligence concerning opening sales to a new...associate...wanting to run weapons to South America I discovered through finger quotes 'facial recognition' software that records of her existence went too far back to be reliable or believable. After verifying their authenticity, it revealed to me a world hitherto hidden and unbelievable.

Here I wasin the late 1990's, entering into a partnership with a woman seeking to run weapons into South America using the Salvation Army as a guise to avoid customs scrutiny. A brilliant ploy, even I must admit. A woman who also led a German expeditionary force across the Alps to attempt the capture of a fleeing family of Austrian nobility...in 1938, just before the beginning of the Anschluss, and yet looked not a day older. In the intervening years, a great deal of things once considered the impossible or fanciful has come into the light.

Avel looked at Vidar, Perhaps it is that everything is true or that it is also simultaneously false.

The Doctor collated the reams of available information into a more digestible report for Alliance uses, noting where the science of the Church diverged from accepted science, the junctures at which the science was overridden with magic shortcuts and identifying them for possible exploitation by Pope's operatives.
He produced a succinct timeline and progress scale for the project, detailing when, where and why breakthroughs occurred with supporting lab documentation. In all, should pieces of the information be leaked to the right academics by the Alliance, several significant advancements could be teased out of the Church's efforts. Nailing down the replicable science from it would take years however.

Avel left the ethnographic, archeological and mythographic contexts to Dr. Tyrz to parse out and illustrate. He preferred to concentrate on his own areas of academic strength and leaving the rest for Vidar's specialized knowledge to shed light upon.

The uncomfortable notion of knowing more than one should, Jamais Vu. Vidar wrote down two words and excused himself. He began to search the library for Mayan and Aztex books regarding the Winged Serpent Quezacoatl and Plumed Serpent Kukulkan.

It only took a few pages for him to discard the book on Quezacoatl. He shook his head dismissively, it didn't fit. But Kukulkan did. While they were similar myths, Kukulkan was closer, far closer indeed to their intended destination in Mexico. Far closer in time as well.

He found another reference to another Winged Serpent from the Primordial Sea, God of Wind and Water. Opposite the God of Lightning and Thunder and cackled. "Not coincidence." Qʼuqʼumatz, the Serpent of the Primordial Sea. While the reading was fresh, nothing he had ever read before, it was so familiar to him. It got him thinking. The gods were combinations of myths familiar to him.

Vidar thought to share this discovery with Dr. Avel, but figured he had pestered the man enough with his insane blathering. Instead began to compare notes between Thor, Tyr, the Storm and War God Tepeu. As well as Nidhoggr, Jormungandr, and Qʼuqʼumatz/Kukulkan.

The wonder that was ancient man, two vastly different cultures, separated by tens of thousands of leagues. Rendered nearly identical forms to their own myths, both in species and power, at almost the exact same time.

Vidar spent the remainder of the time reading in contemplative meditation. The process of which drew him into a deep trance, where he could better memorize and assimilate the information given him, and perhaps lead to profound insight. Though he was entranced as such, it only sped his ability to read and he very quickly consumed several books over the course of the day.

Akari decides to pass on the mission offering and does not show for the load in.