He watched as the chairs slowly filled, full of the young and hopeful, the one's who believed that the Vampyre were a menace - as he had once done. The one's who were curious as to what this 'lecture' of his would contain. The one's who would undoubtedly be here to comment on his own lack of humanity.

And of course, those who would relay every word said to their masters, to better prepare them for a potential new breed of hunter. He was surprised, or - to be brutally honest with himself - disappointed that there had been no attempts on his life yet. He shifted the rifle slightly, he couldn't wait for this to be over and done with. He had, after all, given up on his old habits as a lost cause.
He needed the money now, to pay for his ammunition expenditure and other such important matters, and he was being paid well for this by the church.

With a sigh, he walked up to the head of the torchlight square, eyeing the moon with some satisfaction. They may yet still come tonight.
"Good evening. If you don't know who I am, good. It's better not to know these things. I'm here to tell you all I know on the Vampyre. Let me start by telling you that everything, everything, you've probably heard is a lie. Garlic is useless, stakes are a myth. Sunlight doesn't affect some Vampyres, a minority, I'd admit, but they're still out there. To hunt the Vampyre is a lesson in solitude. After all, they can turn your friends, your family and the rest of the city against you. They can make you seem xenophobic, racist and unforgivable. And to an extent, that's true. To fight the Vampyre is to descend to their level. Remember that. You will descend to their level, or you will die." He paused here, staring grimly at the crowd as they digested that. Good, he seemed to have their attention.
"Now, to the crux of the matter. I'm sure that not all of you are here because you're hidden members of the Anti-Vampyre League. Some of you are here because you're afraid, and so you should be. Other's are undoubtedly here to laugh at my words. They can leave now. If anybody interupts me, I will show them how seriously I take this. And odd's are, you won't live. Are we clear? Good.
Now, most times you encounter a Vampyre, the odds are against you. They undoubtedly have surprise on their side - unless you know the telltale signs. Most seduce members of the opposite sex, then they overpower their chosen victim with superior strength and before you know it, you're dead. Or worse. For all you misguided individuals out there, the Vampyre are not romantic, nor are they misunderstood. They kill us, to keep their own miserable existence alive. They cannot die, and that is a curse.
What was I talking about? Oh yes. They will over power you, don't let your misguided ego tell you otherwise. The best defence to this? Be smart. Stay with people you know, watch for shadows - in both senses of the word. Most Vampyre will cast no shadow in light. If your senses are sharp enough, you should be able to smell blood, or some sickly sweet aroma around them. If you can smell this when you're in an alleyway and your getting 'it on'. It's too late. Kill yourself, it'll be quicker.
Now, to identify the Vampyre. There are no set ways to identify them, as they are all different. Universally, they cannot stand Silver, finding the metal painful to them. Sunlight will harm most of them, but that won't help you at night. Personality wise, they tend to be arrogant and egotistical. They believe they are immortal, and they are, to a degree. I've bested Vampyre in combat before, inspite of their physical strengths, purely because they came to the fight expecting to win, and completely disregarded me and my own abilities. That is the key to winning a fight against a Vampyre. Do enough damage, and they will die.
As for the hammer and stake, any sharp implement to the heart will do the job, so will removing the head. They aren't that immortal. The problem is, doing the damage. Their skin is tougher than ours, able to repel sword slashes and most bludgeoning blows with ease. And some even add armour to the mix. Remember this, if you're opponent is wearing armour, don't bother struggling. Odds are they're one of the few that respects their opponent, or at least refuses to underestimate them. When confronted with the Vampyre, use stabbing weapons, crossbows, and high calibre weaponary. Fire works too, causing severe pain to the Vampyre. They're not Flameproof. It won't kill them, but it'll certainly make their day worse.
Something else of interest. Most of the Vampyre you encounter will be looking for an easy meal. Remember I told you they were arrogant? If you put up enough of a fight, and they're not desperate enough, they'll disengage and flee. If you keep calm and focused, their's no end to the damage you can inflict. Remember that even in the direst situations, your body can be a weapon. Smash them in the throat with your elbow! Knee them in the testicles! Remember that against this foe, it's already heavily balanced in their favour!" He sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"That's the best I can do for you at the moment. Are there any questions?"

Invariably, this was were the critisiscim and insults would flow in, inspite of his earlier remarks.




(OOC: Solena, there is no such thing as too many people in a topic.
'Zeke, play nice.

Oh and on a side note, both those posts have been deleted.)

Riel watched from the back, fascinated at the mans words. She had never considered before that her kind would be hated, as she had always been loved as the star performer 'Lala'. Then again she supposed that few would care about her race in the Circus, but out here was apparently a different story. She had heard about the lecture and hadnt been aware it would be about killing her fellow vampires, so she had come. Fortunately she had kept her mouth closed and fangs hidden so far, her perfume hopefully covering up the smell of her feeding a few hours past. She hoped dearly that he wouldnt notice her as she inched towards the door, hoping to escape without a fight.

ooc: feel free to spot her XD

Owain lounged at the back of the hall, grinning slightly underneath the hood of his cloak. Alongside him, several of his brethren crouched in the shadows, half in and half out of the world. They stank of blood, a sickly sweet scent that would make any animal within a two hundred meter radius run for their life. Yet they kept to the shadows, and all was well in the hall below. Only were-wolves and perhaps aniven could smell them, and no were-wolf was going to be insane enough to walk into the middle of a crowd composes mainly of frightened nutters armed with heavy calibre silver-firing weaponry. They were safe.

Pricking up his ears, Owain listened intently to the man wake lyrical about their secrets, about the myths so carefully cultivated by their kind to allow them to keep an advantage over the more numerous humans. The man was smart, and if his boasts were indeed true then the vampires were in for a tough time.

Michael sat somewhat off to the right of the hall, between a large man covered in tattoos and a small clerk who looked ready to explode. Not good for concentration, but he could handle it.

He'd come across vampires before, finding them an altogether more challenging enemy to the demons and other creatures he usually hunted. The so called 'clans' that they split themselves into varied widely in their beliefs, command structure and combat techniques. As such, he'd found it hard to adapt to such an unpredictable enemy. He made a mental note of going to the library to research such a subject, but before that he would listen to what this man had to say.

The vampire hunter turned lecturer seemed to know what he was talking about, but only on defence against the vampires. He, on the other hand, would be hunting them, and going in unprepared for that would be fatal. So he asked in the silence following the man's words:

"And how would you suggest going about killing these creatures? Not just damaging them, but destroying them?" One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the Rose.

"Becoming the hunter, not the hunted" He added with the smallest of smiles.

He gazed at the crowd, wondering why no-one had thrown any insults yet. There usually were some nutjobs like that at this kind of thing....
He tell there were Vampyre, he could smell the stench from the shadows. Perhaps they were here to kill him? Probably not, they hadn't seemed to do anything. He sighed, rubbing his face with a hand tiredly.

A man he recognised spoke, he allowed himself a smile at his words.
"I'm afraid that as a part of my 'contract' I can't spell out to what ends myself and my group went to to do that. If anyone is interested, I'll be at the Lost Soul till Midnight. Buy your own beer." He spoke, moving to leave the podium.

As he walked down the aisle, he neared the most terrified woman he had ever seen in a a hall like this. Obviously, something he'd said had shocked her. So, logically, she was either Naive, a Vampyre, or both. He caught her eye and smiled - not unkindly, just a little menacingly - at her.

(OOC: He's not left yet...)

Riel met his gaze, body shaking in terror as she backed away. She had never thought someone would want to kill her, ever, especially since she had made it a point not to kill anyone else. Even her feeding victims survived, and she always tied to repay them for the blood she took. Finding out that her race was so hated and hunted...she was scared out of her mind. Not thinking about it, she did what she always did when she felt threatened and smiled, revealing ALL her teeth for an instant.

Senda leaned against the wall by the stage. He did not much enjoy Tomas's talk on vampires but he thought he better show face as one of the partly feared Vampire Hunters. He knew that there were many abhumans, more abhuman than himself, lurking in the crowd. He could smell blood and found it hard to resist eating and drinking from it's source then he found it. He lust was starting to get to him when the girl a few meters to the left bared her fangs at Tomas as he came off stage. Anger filled him slightly at the idea of a possible vampire there, and the idea that his drinking with Tomas later might have to wait. Sighing he pulled himself off the wall and began making his way over to her through the crowd, walking straight into them and knocking them to the side.

Owain winced, his hand flying involuntarily to the sheathed doom at his side. The girl would blowtheir cover, exposing every vampyre in the room to a deadly crossfire of silver and random objects lobbed at head height. While he trusted in his ability to survive such an assault, he knew that the rest would be blasted into pulp by the onslaught.

His second in command made to jump down and strike at the back of Thomas, but Owain raised his hand in pacification. Perhaps they would be fine, and if not they could always flit away into the shadows...

He smiled, actually smiled, at the female Vampyre. She was obviously nervous, frightened that he was going to kill her, or point her out. Not that he needed to, of course, she was doing that herself. He could hear Senda move, thumping people out of the way as he advanced.
"I'd leave now." He muttered to the female Vampyre, before that feeling returned. He was sure something was about to attack him, that momentary feeling of uneasiness. Something was watching him, with intent to kill. He casually turned around, the short sword being loosened in it's sheathe. He couldn't see anything, but there was a lot of shadows.

Perhaps he should be careful later? That was likely. He was positive there were Vampyre in the shadows, possibly from the Clan Riz'Akar? Their Lord could manipulate Shadows, so it stood to reason. If something had decided to attack him, but forstalled the motion then, logically, there was a high ranked Vampyre with them.

And usually, high ranking Vampyres didn't take any chances.
They had to leave.

They had to leave now.

"Senda." He muttered quietly, sure that the Werewolf could hear him.
"I think there might be a Lord here...." He added, drawing the sword as he backed away towards the door.

Lala nodded, taking another step back and drawing her lips down over her fangs. She was so nervous and frightened that she could hardly think, all of the vampire killers around her terrifying her beyond reason. She felt disgusted and horrified, tears running from her eyes as she took another backward step toward the door. "Why would anyone want to kill me?" she muttered to herself, the idea terrible. She had never done anything to hurt anybody, always taking willing feeders and leaving them alive and healthy. She was no monster.

"Take a guess?" Senda suggested now right behind her, ready to lift his hand and snap her neck. Disregarding her tears he looked over at Tomas. "There is something, at the back I think. But her stink is getting in the way." He could not see the problem with taking the vampires on. There were more than enough hunters to deal with lesser freaks and himself and Tomas could take on the Lord. After all it was a shadow Lord not a battle Lord.

Lord, they mock you with their words Azrael whispered to Owain, the telepath reaching out and plucking thoughts out of the maelstrom beneath them like he was picking flowers in a meadow. Owain knew the value of a good telepath after he had met Marciel in combat. He had bested the eldar vampyre, but only with luck and a fire. The telepath has been so strong....

"I can hear them, yet your information is valued. We must decide now... fight or flight?" Owain whispered back, to the entire force of vampyres assembled. "flight must be fast, and to fight we must be quick, devastating and brutal. Choose now."

Nearly all the vampyres stayed, two of the youngest ones being grabbed by their older mentors and whisked away through the shadows to safty across town. Better not to risk the future of the clan.

"Good. Now, Dante, change into a guise fitting for swaying the aim of that one down there and descend. Relay all the information in High German so telepaths in the crowd will be thrown off the scent. Go." Owain pointed, a slim female vampyre stepping forward through the shadows as she changed into a obles daughter before their eyes. She smiled, a slow smile that wasnt entirely human.

(OOC: Whats this? An RTD topic without 'Zeke? I think not!)

Standing unnoticed in the crowd, 'Zeke snorted in disdain at Tomas' words. He never did talk much. A few short general statements and he was off; it was pathetic. He didn't even feel the need to point out any helpful texts (and the mercenary knew he'd found a few in all those hours in the library) or any of the specific moves you could use to try and encourage a night-crawler to start getting cocky. Tomas was a far better hunter than he let on, saying that he'd killed 'a few vampires' did him no justice at all. His passion for the hunt seemed to have faded in the weeks since he'd last seen him, and 'Zeke did not like the transformation.

With a short laugh, the bounty hunter turned to go. He had better things to do than stand around in some Church to a nameless god and listen to amateurs try and follow Tomas' talk with whatever paltry collections of facts they'd managed to gather together to follow his own brief statement.

Michael watched as the situation began to escalate. One way or another, this wasn't going to end well. One hand reached up to adjust his hat, while the other strayed to his belt, at the scabbarded sword at his side...

Then he hesitated. Did he really want the vampires to know who he was at this point? Should he give the game away so soon?

Of course, he knew he wasn't anywhere near powerful enough to take on the more powerful vampires. He'd hunted the creatures before, but those he'd killed were only small fry. The clan lords were something else. And drawing a weapon in the middle of this kind of meeting would surely result in him being watched by the clans.

If he wasn't at risk of that happening already...

He stayed where he was, trying to blend in with the crowd and hide his weapons.

He could hear the whispering. No, he could hear that someone was whispering. The only word that stuck out was Dante. Why did everybody in this room need to panic the moment he drew a sword? It wasn't like the Vampyre were going to attack them, unless they worked themselves into a blood frenzy.

So instead of knowing their plans, he knew that one of them was called Dante. Terriffic. Was Dante even a name? He sighed inwardly, eye still watching the shadow.
"Let this one go, we can always go back for her." He added, not knowing that Senda was about to snap her throat, but guessing he'd try something like that.

He saw what looked like a Noble's daughter merge from a shadow. Perhaps she had been hiding there, determined not to let her Father's name be dragged into this whole Vampyre hunting thing. She did look quite pretty, if you liked that sort of thing, with her pale skin, her brown eyes, the way she smiled.
He'd already pegged her as either a Vampyre, or a Vampyre sympathiser. She wasn't afraid, he could tell that with a glance. Most Noble's believed that they were in control of any situation, and when they weren't their fear was palpable. But even though everybody elses fear clogged the room, just from looking at her he could tell she was enjoying herself.

He sheathed the sword, reaching for the rifle. If he tried to stab it, then he;d just get closer to the shadows.
"Everybody leave!" He shouted, fumbling with the strap.

Senda shrugged and turned to the exit. Slightly annoyed at the lack of blood now that there had almost been a riot. Who ever the girl was she could die some other time, all the vampires would be gone soon anyway. Their race was pathetic. So obsessed with drinking blood to survive, after it was all drunk in their greed they would fall from the dark grace that they clinged to.
Over the noise of the crowd Senda heard a laugh he had heard before in the flame and death of the carnival. Was it 'Zeke? Here? The scent was masked by the hundereds of bodys and vampires but something told him 'Zeke was there. "Whatever yell if things start up," he muttered to Tomas over the vampire girl and, eyes fixed on the main exit began sniffing for 'Zeke, moving towards the centre of the hall. "Come on, 'Zeke, come fight me again. Die, die you dog." he grumbled under his breath.

Unaware of Senda's presence, 'Zeke began shuffling towards the exit. He had nothing more to do here, so he may as well go off and get pissed. He shook his head in a final display of disgust for Tomas' laxity, and then blundered right into Senda's path.

Lala shook herself from her terrified stupor and crouched down quickly. Three throwing knives appeared in each hand and she leaped up, flipping forwards over the werewolf and landing gracefully behind him. A kidney shot would have been easy, but the Harlequin had no desire to kill even these people. She planted her feet and ran towards the exit, praying that she wouldnt be forced to use the weapons she held so surely. Sid would be very interested to hear about this little lecture she was sure, if she lived long enough to tell the Lord of the Asan'Bosan the news that is.

"'Zeke!" he roared drawing both swords and swinging the right one down, amiing for 'Zeke's shoulder. Not noticing or caring about Lala he pressed forward at his foe, keeping one blade ready for defence.

'Zeke cried out in suprise, and dodged as best he could, but even his own ample reflexes couldn't escape such a fast blow at that close range completely, and he took a deep gash along the top of his shoulder that carved out a sliver of bone.

Within seconds he had his right hand whipping a repeater out of its holster, and started firing a clip at full-auto into Senda's midriff. He was in too much pain to care much about why Senda was there all of a sudden, or even how he'd been so lax as to allow the stinking mongrel to sneak up on him, so he just focused on directing Vict'au to heal his shoulder as best he could whilst drawing a combat knife to parry Senda's next blow.

Owain smiled, a slow dangerous smile more commonly seen on hyenas than on humans. It was something to do with the fangs, and the fact that the eyes seemd to be showing not mirth, but a genuine desire to watch something die and then eat the carcass. He glanced over his shoulder to his second in command, slowly laughing as he did so.
"The fools are fighting amongst each other. So these are the famous vampire hunters of deadly repute amongst the Riz'kar and the ferasl of this city...Pathetic. I only wish that Van Helsing was still here. He and his family knew how to fight."

Letting his eyes wander over the milling crowd, he caught sight of the lead hunter. He looked puzzled and annoyed, a calm within the maelstrom that had erupted within the walls of the hall. There was something odd about those eyes, yellowed whites surrounding animal irises and slitted pupils. the man could see through the chaos. He had already selected his target, the vampire spy placed so perfectly in their midst....

"Get me a link to Dante. NOW!" He spat, the words forcing themselves out before his mind had fully grasped the situation. He could feel the telepath fumbling around, trying to establish the links. In a way, it felt like using a telephone again, only with a clumsy operator and a large deal more danger.

Dante, listen to me. There is a man in the centre of the hall. He has a gun and is a possible aniven. You need to get the crowd between you and him, and DO NOT reveal any powers. If he opens fire, drop to the ground and play dead. I will help you then, but I cannot risk exposure for anything less. Do you understand? Owain thought, knowing how loud and echoing his voice would be inside the poor girls head.

Michael stayed as he was, sat down facing forward. Rapidly he was beginning to realise just how much of a folly this venture had been. Undoubtedly the vampires would know who he was despite his best efforts, and if he managed to get out of this chaotic situation, he would only find himself facing a horde of the blasted creatures. He made a mental note to check if he was being followed when he left the building.

As he mused, he'd become unaware that he was the only one left sat down. The commotion had brought everyone to their feet, some trying to leave, some joining in, and a few simply stood there proclaiming evil left right and center. He swore. This was not good.

He stood, only to be pushed back once more as the crowd surged in his direction. He was knocked clear off his feet, his head smashing down on the chair he'd just recently vacated on his way to the floor. Then the crowd engulfed him, stepping on his coat and forcing him out of it to try and get to his feet. A blow to his head, and he was seeing stars. Another careless civilian managed to stamp on his foot, strangling a barely muffled cry of pain from his throat. Things were getting dangerous now. People were starting to panic and become ignorant of what they were doing, so intent they were on their own survival. The merest hint of a vampire had turned this room of hardened men and women to scared sheep.

He had to get out of here.

Apparently ignored by everyone else, Riel took the opportunity to sprint out of the door and flee from the building. She needed to tell Sid what was going on, it would more than likely concern the Vampire Lord of the Asan'Bosan after all.

ooc: sorry for short post but she is gone from the topic and actually died yesterday anyways. Just want to get it out of the way.

(OOC: Me now, right? Oh, and Icarus? Tomas only has one eye.....)

He smelled the scent in the room turn from plain fear into sheer panic - though he was begining to think it was more the fact that Senda and 'Zeke were fighting than the fact he had just screamed at everyone to get out. The less bodies there were the better for the Vampyre Hunter's reputations, they could ill afford a lynching mob to be sent after them.

That being said, he traced the scents back to the Vampyre he thought was called 'Dante'. He held his rifle loosely in both hands, moving to take cover behind a group of chairs. Not that they'd provide much cover, but instinct was instinct.

He admired the way the human mind could zone out in times like this, when everything seemed to move so slowly, that you were aware of everything. He idly noticed the man from earlier still sitting in his chair, before forcing his mind to focus. He didn't need to zone out here, not with an undetermined number of Vampyre in the shadows.
"Senda! 'Zeke!" He shouted, wondering why the Vampyre had flinched. Was he that loud? He couldn't have been.....
Telepath?
He raised his rifle, trying to get a clear line. That wasn't happening, somehow he got the feeling she knew what he was doing. She was trying to place the crowds between them, blocking his line.

Obviously, she didn't - or couldn't - know just how good a shot he was. All he needed was a small opening, a shot at a shoulder or something like that.
Or he could fire regardless - the heavy bullet would cut through the crowd like a hot knife through some sort of creamy substance.

With a wry smile, he realised that he couldn't do that. It would place far too much stress on the crowd, they would begin to see him as the more immediate threat if he started shooting indiscriminately into the crowds.
They would tear him apart. Perhaps he should flee? Discretion was obviously the better part of valour here....
But how? The exits were blocked. You made sure of that.
No, he couldn't do that. He growled, getting louder with every second.

He lifted the rifle, seeing the gap he needed. It would only be an arm, but it would be enough.
Then he realised. How many people would realise she was a Vampyre? He couldn't shoot her for the same reasons he couldn't shoot anybody.

With a muffled curse, he lowered the rifle. He had to wait for everyone to leave.

The bolts impacted into Senda's stomach and hip, peircing his leather armour and stucking into the flesh. Senda roared as he parried the rest of the shots, however the range made it hard and most of them hit him. Going for another heavy swing of his blade it screached up the combat blade. Hearing Tomas shout he spared a glance over his shoulder, "What!?" he yelled, turning back to 'Zeke and not seeing Tomas through the crowds.

Owains eyes gleamed as the rifle was lowered admidst the carnage. A bonus, on top of the already sucessful night, that to the vampire lord must have tasted like a case of the finest vintage dragon blood. Slightly oaky, with delicate nutty overtones that perfectly excentuated...

"Er, sir?" His second in command tapped him on the shoulder, bringing Owain back to reality with a start. It had been so long since his last cask of good blood, he had begun to hallucenate about it. Being a vampire lord might have gifted him powers beyond those of his lessers, but it cursed him with a hunger that would tear a lesser vampire apart.

"What? What?" Owain snapped, licking away a drop of blood from where he had bit his tounge.

"You zoned out for a minute. Dante is clear for evacuation. Say the word and I'll have a team grab her and take her away. I would advise that we leave as well." he said, hands shaking slightly as Owain glared at him. Most people would.

"I agree, but I will remain. I want to see how this hunter handles the crowd."

'Zeke's arm shuddered somewhat under the strain of Senda's feral strength. The combat knife notched, a sliver of metal pinging out into the anonymous crowds. In his other hand, the crossbow was about to run out of bolts, and 'Zeke could see that Senda would cleave off his head given a half-second of opportunity.

With magic-enhanced speed, the mercenary flipped backwards as the last few bolts slid out of his crossbow, giving him a clear few feet, and thus another moment or two to recover, and prepared for Senda's inevitable charge. Dropping the damaged knife, he drew his sabre, whilst with the other hand he neatly flicked out the old cartridge and slid in a new one.