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June 7, 2008-Harrisburg
Formal introductions were finally over. The introductions of modern nights were too short to appease proper protocol, but took too long to be dissociated from it entirely. It was almost a mockery of the older, better ways. Nevertheless, the Prince had accepted them into her domain, stern and overbearing as she was. Daniel was just beginning to get a feel for the evening. This one, like so many others, looked to be dull and tedious. He flexed his wrist in preparation for a long night of shaking hands.
And then, Daniel saw something that changed the evening entirely. "Christian? Christian!..."
Perhaps this would be an interesting night after all...
---Autumn 1793, Northern France---
The three are sitting in a smoky tavern, near to Dunkirk. Filled to capacity with dispossessed sailors, soldiers, and scavengers, nobody would look twice at a noble, a captain, and a soldier occupying a corner and talking quietly over drinks. The Duke's siege made meeting in Dunkirk all but impossible, but Daniel hoped to alleviate that.
"You're sure about this?"
"Positive. If you will but trust the plan, we all stand to make a good deal of profit from this, and help La France. The pickets will provide no resistance, Christian will see to that." Daniel nods in the direction of the third man, who simply grunts in response.
"Very well, gentlemen. We have an agreement." Daniel and Christian stand, nodd to Captain Ferris, and leave.
---June 2008, Harrisburg---
"D-Daniel...why...how good to see you..." Christian was nervous as a rookie on his first field of battle. Perplexing.
"Indeed, Christian. It's been entirely too long."
"Longer for some than for others, I expect."
"How do these nights find you?"
"Fine! Good. Never better." With that, he slid away into the crowd. Daniel could not help but feel something was wrong. Here was this tiger amongst sheep, fierce and proud. And yet, he acted as though he were a lamb. Someone had declawed the Butcher of Locronan. That, or Christian had learned some subtlety, and was playing his cards very close to his chest. Daniel hoped it was the latter. A world without the Butcher was just, somehow, less fun.
---Autumn, 1973, Captain's Quarters of Challenge---
"And, and you're sure you can retrieve her?"
"Absolutely, Captain. I know how much your daughter means to you. Unfortunately, those French bastards have no consideration for the decency of war. Incorrigible."
The Captain paces, wringing his hands. Daniel has the poor man fooled almost beyond belief. Of course, it had been simple enough to have Christian kidnap his daughter. There were always the gifts of his blood, but using them would take all the challenge out of it. With the kine, at least, he can afford to play games.
"There is the matter of the blockade, Captain..."
"What? Oh, yes, of course. You'll need to get your men into the city. Certainly. I shall, I shall submit a permit to..."
"Man, this is your daughter. There is no time for that. Simply...encourage your sentries to be looking north at midnight."
"I...I'm not sure."
"Do you want to see her alive?"
"Yes."
---Midnight, Autumn 1973, France---
Christian and the rest of the Order of Locronan were crouching low behind a hillock, tensed and ready for action. Christian's eyes burned as he idly toyed with the tomahawk on his belt. Three strikes of a small bell ring out across the water. Christian stands, pistol drawn, and shouts the advance.
Daniel shouldn't be here, but he longs to feel the battle-lust again. He can't, of course, his blood no longer pulses, but he draws his rapier anyway. The picket line isn't expecting an assault, especially not a night fight. Bullets fly, men scream, and Daniel laughs. A thought sours the night, briefly. Daniel wishes he could see the face of that poor British Captain, as he realises he's betrayed his country for a daughter he'll never see again. Ah, well. There was always going to be a moment when the Captain realised he had been taken, and it was simply too risky to be there to see it.
Then, Daniel's thought is disrupted as the guns from Clarion erupt, spitting lead into the blockade on one side, and towards the British camps on the other. Captain Ferris has decided to have a little fun. By now, his skiffs loaded with ammunition, weapons, and food for the beleaguered French soldiers in Dunkirk should be hitting the docks, delivering the supplies to the encircled warriors. A week from now, Christian, Daniel, and Lupin Ferris will meet the French agent, and collect a small fortune. The thought of the fortune brings the smile back to Daniel's face. He eviscerates another British soldier, and laughs to nothing in particular
---Midnight, June 2008, Harrisburg---
"Who...who does this...thing...belong to?" The Prince's rage was barely concealed as she motioned to the ghoul. She had cause quite a stir, that one. Not all that wise though.
"Ok. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to debate. Debate her transgressions, debate her fate. So..."
The Prince, she too was an interesting one, one who liked to cause a stir. More wisdom in that one though.
Christian slid into the crowd once again, sidled up near Daniel. He was wearing a heavy, heavy coat. The coat sat over things, concealing enough weapons to besiege a police station. His hand played idly with a tomahawk.
"Christian..."
"I owe her. I pay what I owe...."
"Don't be a fool, Christian."
An interesting night after all.
---Autumn 1973, France---
"You were right. Quite a haul. I owe you for this, Daniel." Captain Lupin Ferris finishes counting his stack of silver coins, and sweeps them into his purse. "Don't hesitate to come find me if you need a favor."
"Don't worry, Captain. I collect what's owed."
And then, Daniel saw something that changed the evening entirely. "Christian? Christian!..."
Perhaps this would be an interesting night after all...
---Autumn 1793, Northern France---
The three are sitting in a smoky tavern, near to Dunkirk. Filled to capacity with dispossessed sailors, soldiers, and scavengers, nobody would look twice at a noble, a captain, and a soldier occupying a corner and talking quietly over drinks. The Duke's siege made meeting in Dunkirk all but impossible, but Daniel hoped to alleviate that.
"You're sure about this?"
"Positive. If you will but trust the plan, we all stand to make a good deal of profit from this, and help La France. The pickets will provide no resistance, Christian will see to that." Daniel nods in the direction of the third man, who simply grunts in response.
"Very well, gentlemen. We have an agreement." Daniel and Christian stand, nodd to Captain Ferris, and leave.
---June 2008, Harrisburg---
"D-Daniel...why...how good to see you..." Christian was nervous as a rookie on his first field of battle. Perplexing.
"Indeed, Christian. It's been entirely too long."
"Longer for some than for others, I expect."
"How do these nights find you?"
"Fine! Good. Never better." With that, he slid away into the crowd. Daniel could not help but feel something was wrong. Here was this tiger amongst sheep, fierce and proud. And yet, he acted as though he were a lamb. Someone had declawed the Butcher of Locronan. That, or Christian had learned some subtlety, and was playing his cards very close to his chest. Daniel hoped it was the latter. A world without the Butcher was just, somehow, less fun.
---Autumn, 1973, Captain's Quarters of Challenge---
"And, and you're sure you can retrieve her?"
"Absolutely, Captain. I know how much your daughter means to you. Unfortunately, those French bastards have no consideration for the decency of war. Incorrigible."
The Captain paces, wringing his hands. Daniel has the poor man fooled almost beyond belief. Of course, it had been simple enough to have Christian kidnap his daughter. There were always the gifts of his blood, but using them would take all the challenge out of it. With the kine, at least, he can afford to play games.
"There is the matter of the blockade, Captain..."
"What? Oh, yes, of course. You'll need to get your men into the city. Certainly. I shall, I shall submit a permit to..."
"Man, this is your daughter. There is no time for that. Simply...encourage your sentries to be looking north at midnight."
"I...I'm not sure."
"Do you want to see her alive?"
"Yes."
---Midnight, Autumn 1973, France---
Christian and the rest of the Order of Locronan were crouching low behind a hillock, tensed and ready for action. Christian's eyes burned as he idly toyed with the tomahawk on his belt. Three strikes of a small bell ring out across the water. Christian stands, pistol drawn, and shouts the advance.
Daniel shouldn't be here, but he longs to feel the battle-lust again. He can't, of course, his blood no longer pulses, but he draws his rapier anyway. The picket line isn't expecting an assault, especially not a night fight. Bullets fly, men scream, and Daniel laughs. A thought sours the night, briefly. Daniel wishes he could see the face of that poor British Captain, as he realises he's betrayed his country for a daughter he'll never see again. Ah, well. There was always going to be a moment when the Captain realised he had been taken, and it was simply too risky to be there to see it.
Then, Daniel's thought is disrupted as the guns from Clarion erupt, spitting lead into the blockade on one side, and towards the British camps on the other. Captain Ferris has decided to have a little fun. By now, his skiffs loaded with ammunition, weapons, and food for the beleaguered French soldiers in Dunkirk should be hitting the docks, delivering the supplies to the encircled warriors. A week from now, Christian, Daniel, and Lupin Ferris will meet the French agent, and collect a small fortune. The thought of the fortune brings the smile back to Daniel's face. He eviscerates another British soldier, and laughs to nothing in particular
---Midnight, June 2008, Harrisburg---
"Who...who does this...thing...belong to?" The Prince's rage was barely concealed as she motioned to the ghoul. She had cause quite a stir, that one. Not all that wise though.
"Ok. Here's what we're going to do. We're going to debate. Debate her transgressions, debate her fate. So..."
The Prince, she too was an interesting one, one who liked to cause a stir. More wisdom in that one though.
Christian slid into the crowd once again, sidled up near Daniel. He was wearing a heavy, heavy coat. The coat sat over things, concealing enough weapons to besiege a police station. His hand played idly with a tomahawk.
"Christian..."
"I owe her. I pay what I owe...."
"Don't be a fool, Christian."
An interesting night after all.
---Autumn 1973, France---
"You were right. Quite a haul. I owe you for this, Daniel." Captain Lupin Ferris finishes counting his stack of silver coins, and sweeps them into his purse. "Don't hesitate to come find me if you need a favor."
"Don't worry, Captain. I collect what's owed."
