The Hunt & Stirrings of Destiny

Atop the roof of a small office building in a lower economic section of the massive city of Rome, a single man sat cross legged. The lone figure meticulously worked on a large pattern spread out on the rooftop around him. It was a large circular sigil of some sort, possessing three layers filled with numerous strange symbols of faiths lost long ago. Finally completing the large pattern necessary for the proper invocation of the ritual, Almos Lorand set down the small cup containing the mixture of blood and iron shavings he had used to draw out his sigil. The old vampire took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hands resting upon his knees. Focusing his attention on the task at hand, he mentally recited the command to trigger the last phase of the process and awaited the appearance his conversation partner. Slowly but surely, the blood and iron mixture on the ground began to give off a light red mist which soon covered the rooftop within the sigil, reaching up to Almos' waist. It was time to begin.

"I ask my first question. What object in this city holds the secret to finding the Gandiva?" Almos asked the supernatural presence filling the area within his sigil. The answer came in a hushed tone as if whispered into the wind. The secrets he needed were contained on the back of a letter. A very old, very specific letter written by the Pope himself to hide the location of the pagan treasure. Lorand smirked, it was just as Professor Alexander had said.

(1/3)

Clearing his mind, Almos prepared his second question for the otherwordly forces filling the sigil circle. "I ask my second question, where can I find this letter containing the information I see?" He closed his eyes and listened carefully. Once again his answer was whispered to him. The letter resided in the possession of Father Call MacAleese, priest of Iscariot. Now that made things a bit more difficult. Almos was well aware of what Iscariot's purpose was. The exorcists that had trained him so long ago were an offshoot of the prestigious monster hunters. He did not quite feel confident enough to challenge the full power of the Vatican but it should be well within his ability to set upon a single member of their twisted clergy. Unfortunately, the restrictive nature of the answers had set him back again. He'd need to spend another question to figure out where in the city this Call person was. How irritating.

(2/3)

His eyes still tightly shut, Almos sighed audibly and considered his final question. The wording would need to be exact in order to work. If he simply asked where Call was then the spirits would tell him where the man was that second and by the time Almos could get there he might very well be gone. However, luckily for Almos there were a great many ways to ask this particular question. "I ask my final question. Where in this city will I encounter Call MacAleese while he still holds the Papal letter I seek?" the vampire asked, just a hint of anxiety in his voice. If there was some angle he had not considered yet the ritual may very well give him an effectively useless answer. If that was the case it would be some time before he could invoke the process again. By then the letter could be well beyond his reach. Much to his delight though, the whispers on the wind were favorable and a sinister smile spread over his pale features. "Prepare yourself, priest. Here I come," Quickly rising to his feet, the vampire burst into a flurry of motion, disappearing into the city bounding from rooftop to rooftop at high speed.

Anthony back from his trip to the Alps was thrilled when his friend Call invited him to join him for the day. He had gotten to shoot some vampires a couple ghouls, and even managed to not die somehow. The skill and bravery of his allies was truly an inspiring sight to him. Anthony thought over their mission fondly and the more he looked back on it the better his friends seemed to have fought. He knew that they were good at what thy did and quite experienced to but there was something else there to. Perhaps it was that they worked so well together.

Anthony walking down the streets stopped his thinking as he encountered his brother in arms call. Smiling he came over to him and holding out his hand he said to him.

"It'a good to see you my friend. It's been a while hasn't it? How have you been?"

Anthony was curious as to the exact reason why Call had asked him to come by but knew that whatever it was probably wasn't that urgent and he wasn't going to pass up this chance to speak with his friend outside of battle.

Call was waiting outside of a nearby Catholic school having finished teaching the night Archery class he'd started there. It had been his new hobby teaching those interested the art of Archery and it was also a side project he'd received from the higher ups within Iscariot to help train potential candidates for Section XIII. As much as he hated it he couldn't really question the orders given to him and was forced to carry out the project with a smile. Course that didn't mean he couldn't make his classes fun for his students there had been many times where he'd held competitions among his students offering prizes consisting of movie tickets and gift certificates as such. The Project directors often complained about how he was squandering project funds on meaningless luxuries. But they couldn't deny that the kids worked harder when prizes were offered.

He was broken out of his thoughts as his old friend from Anderson's orphanage came walking down the street. "Tony t'is been a while how ya been mate?" Call said smiling giving his friend a wave. He shook his hand as Anthony came closer. "I've been alrigh' took a nasty fall from a roof a few weeks ago chasin a thief." Call said recalling the elusive thief he'd chased weeks ago.

"Got what she was trying to make off with though." Call said holding up a small gold container holding a letter. "Took a bullet to the head and some buckshot for mah trouble though..." Call muttered rubbing a tender spot on his forehead where Neria's bullet had hit his skull. He remembered how the medical examiners at the Infirmary had chewed him out saying that even Regenerators could die from shots to the head if hit in the correct location. Luckily for Call his thick skull had knocked the bullet off course.

"Anyways I'd love to catch up but this isn't exactly a social call." Call said his face falling from it's enthusiastic smile into a more serious expression. "We've got a slight issue a Vampire has been scouted by section 7 around the Vatican way too close to home for our preference especially after that nasty bit o business with Hellsing's pet bloodsucker." Call said as he undid the buttons to his cassock and slipped it off shoving it into a bush nearby. Underneath the cassock Call was wearing a pair of black combat BDU pants and a black sleeveless shirt with a hood. His right hand was covered in a black cloth shooting glove with leather around the fingers and he wore a black M-1951 Field Jacket over his shirt which his bow and quiver were hanging from at his sides along with his other equipment. "I need you as support...I know your tired after your last mission but I need ya now...Think you can handle that?" Call asked

Listening to Call's recount of him taking a bullet to the head slightly worried the father. But at least Call was aware of this as well and he even laughed a bit as he joked about his thick skull. Looking curiously at the letters wile Call brought them out, he wonderd at first what they were. But soon his thoughts drifted a little as Call began to tell him about why he had been asked here. Drifting indeed into a debate now raging within after being asked if he was up for the mission.

Although he was extremely loyal to the Iscariot apparently before he knew it he began to loose confidence in himself left and right to the point where killing vampires was only moderately enjoyable. He did not even know where that had started but soon it had snow balled into a huge issue with himself. Of course this wasn't actually a real problem in the field where things began to melt away and the only thought left in his mind was fight, fight for your lord until you can fight no more. But still, what if he did develop some issues in combat because of this? After all a little while ago he would have never guessed that he would end up like this. So who was to say that it couldn't slowly progress until it consumed him? After all he there was starting to arise in him a crippling fear that who ever he went with on a mission they would end up dying because of him.

No! no. That will not happen. I have a mission to do and no one is getting in the way of this. Especially not myself. Besides. There was someone he was sure who couldn't fail at anything she set her mind to. Smiling slightly He remembered her promise. It didn't matter what happened to him. She wouldn't let him fall.

These thoughts came through his mind quickly and were just as quickly gone from him. There was no doubt that he would accept the mission now. He looked Call in the eye and responded.

"Of course Call. I would be delighted to help you. As to being tired, Don't worry about me. I'm probably the best off of my three companions."

Anthony felt a slight twinge of guilt as he said this. It was very true but the only reason that it was was because Meabh was going through the process of gaining regeneration which he imagined would be difficult on her body. He knew that Call probably needed him more than Meabh did right now, in fact he really didn;t think he could do anything for her. But Call, maybe and if he couldn't help in the battle then he might just be able to make himself a slight distraction for his friend.

The archer's eyes studied the man in front of him carefully he knew that Anthony was attempting to hide it but he could see the doubt clouding his mind. The fear of losing a comrade was something they all carried within them. They were all soldiers of god willing to die for his cause, But none of them were willing to see a friend or ally all to one's own carelessness. Call knew the feeling well it was one of the reasons he worked alone. But Iscariot refused to let him operate solo until they were sure that bullet to the head hadn't permanently damaged his brain.

He watched his friend wage a mental war within himself and finally saw him steel his resolve and look him in the eye. "That's right...I heard about your mission well done out there...Everyone got home still breathing that's all that matters." Call said turning away. He could still see the waves of guilt gnawing at his friends soul. He'd read the briefing on the mission on how almost everyone had been injured on the operation particularly Father Miles. But right now he didn't need a man with a guilty conscience he needed a man with steeled resolve. He stood still for a moment before turning to the exorcist with a look of complete seriousness within his eyes.

"Anthony...I need your mind clear of distractions whatever it is that is eating away at you, I need you to lose it now before we do anything else." Call said. He couldn't bring Anthony into the field like this his mind was too unfocused on the task at hand. And that could mean death in the field for either one of them. He cared for Anthony like a brother just as he did every other priest and nun in Iscariot even the ones the other's tend to avoid like Sister Eir. But right now he needed a soldier not a brother, A warrior not a priest, A killer not a saint he needed Anthony to prepare himself for the task ahead. Fighting Vampires was never easy they were slippery and sneaky bastards. One moment they could be in front of you and the next they'd be doing a cartwheel over your head like a damn gymnast. Both of them would need to be focused for this mission.

"Done." Said Anthony firmly his stance strong and looking Call in the eye. He agreed with him. This was no time for thought. He needed to act now. Without letting himself get in the way their mission. And so he would do that. There was no real other option. Either he did this or he was not an Iscariot. And an Iscariot was who he was. Even these new found fears could not destroy years of experience and training which had turned him into regardless of if he felt it or not a professional vampire hunter.

Anthony would not let this unholy abomination walk within their holy city or any where near it without punishment. Turning his head he surveyed the area making sure that there was no immediate threat. His hands were ready to draw his weapons within a moments notice and his faith always burning strong was prepared to call upon the aid of scripture when needed.

Speaking of scripture.

Anthony laid a hand on his friends shoulder and told him. "By the way, I have recently discovered a new use for these pages. Or rather reusing them in a new way I suppose."

Scripture flowed forth from his sleeves and into the under of Call's shirt where it would stick their and give him armor around all of his body like what he himself wore.


"I believe you are familiar with the barriers our order can create through the use of scripture correct? Well this is the same thing only now. It is on you."

Then turning back to his vigil he said to call.

"So where first my friend?"

OOC: YOUR TIME HAS COME EXORCISTS! For reference, I'm assuming that Anthony is at a 12 o'clock position and Call is at 6 o'clock with the school at 3 o'clock.

It was just as the spirits had said. Standing right there in front of a damned Catholic school was a priest ripe for the taking. A priest that the vampire could only assume was Call MacAleese. Almos had made excellent time moving across the city, sacrificing a bit of subtlety for speed as he navigated the rooftops. Though he had the sneaking suspicion that he might have been spotted moving through the city, he had slowed his pace a bit as he'd neared the coordinates provided by his ritual. That was how he'd found this little hideaway, a small townhouse across the narrow street from the school. Luckily, the place was deserted for the moment, whoever lived there must have been out and about for the day. That decision saved their lives and saved Almos the trouble of worrying about pesky smells and sounds as he was lying in wait about to pounce on the hapless priest outside. With the narrow streets of the Vatican, Almos could be on top of the bastard before he had any clue what hit him.

And then a second Bible thumper showed up. Damn. The ritual had told him the name of his target and where to find him, but not what the bastard looked like. Hidden from view in the shadows of the townhouse, Almos looked on as the first priest began to reveal weaponry. At least he knew for a fact that these were definitely Iscariots. Was that a bow? Correction, incompetent Iscariots. Two, ten, it didn't matter. Once he had that scroll he could get out of here. He'd simply take them both before and sort out which one was Call after the fact. The one with the bow carried himself with a bit more confidence than the other, he'd be the first to go then. But how to do it? Charm? No, they'd shoot him on sight. Trickery? No, it'd take too long to set up and it would allow them to get coordinated. A blitz it was.

In his left hand the vampire held a several stainless steel knives, freshly pilfered from the townhouse's kitchen. Hidden by his sleeve, the restored Enkidu was lying in wait to be called for at its master's command. Taking a deep breath, Almos mentally prepared himself and took off at top speed from the back side of the room. Crashing through the window with his knees raised, the vampire's explosive entrance sent shards of glass and wood framing flying towards the priest's without warning. Before his feet even came close to touching the ground, Lorand let the blades in his left hand fly for the page wielding exorcist's face and neck. While a quick kill would be wonderful, Lorand was expecting more from Iscariot and would immediately bring Enkidu to bare in the shadow of the knives. The spiked tip would lash out to spear the exorcist through the throat, having compensated for evasive moves used against the knives or aiming to take advantage of a lull in the priest's defenses following the surprise storm of blades.

Those measures were merely parts of a larger distraction however. He merely needed the exorcist off balance or out of the fight long enough to take care of the archer. The narrow streets of Rome were working to his favor, his initial jump through the window having covered most of the distance between the archer and himself. Using a sliding step forward as the toe of his boot touched the ground, Almos was trying to use his left hand to pin the archer's own at his side just below the elbow. He didn't need a full lock, just enough of a delay to ensure openings in his guard as the vampire's right hand hooked around in a spear hand strike at the back of his neck. Quick, clean, and effective, Almos had no intention of playing with his food today. While he was a confessed sadist, he was pragmatic enough to know when to hold those desires in check. He could play with the leftovers once this was no longer a 2 on 1 battle. Luckily, there was a strong chance he had ensure just that. Using his full vampiric strength and speed, he should have a clear advantage over any normal man in the Vatican's employ but adding to that was the crucial element of surprise. Having literally exploded into their conversation as each man had their attention on the other, they would almost certainly need a moment to process what had just sprung into their midst. That half second was all he ever needed.

Call smiled as he saw Anthony steel his resolve before nodding. "Well good then that's out of the way and we can get under way." Call said as he moved to walk away leading the way to the vampire's last known location he felt Anthony's hand upon his shoulder. He glanced back over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow as a page of the bible drifted through the air before slipping beneath his shirt pressing against his skin. He could feel a slight warmth drift over his normally cold skin and raised an eyebrow. "Now that's an interestin little trick you have there Brother." Call said listening to Anthony's explanation as to how the technique worked.

As he was about to explain their destination he heard a window next to them shatter showering them both in shards of glass and wood. His eyes and mind quickly worked in unison to recognize the threat assaulting them. His eyes focused in on the man who'd dived out the window. The man had thrown knives at his companion before striking with a wicked looking chain. Call reached back to grab his Tanto he hoped that Anthony would be quick enough to protect himself at the moment Call needed to focus on the more immediate threat. He scowled as he felt the vampire grip his left arm stopping it before he could grip the hilt of his blade. His eyes watched as the vampire's other hand rose like a cobra poised to strike. Call moved his right hand and gripped the vampire's right wrist scowling as he held it firmly in place as it attempted to move to strike using his enhanced strength to hold him at bay. Before reeling his head back and thrusting it straight forward toward the vampire's forehead.

"Anthony make distance and support from afar!!" Call yelled as he yanked his arm from the vampire's grasp wincing as he felt the nails of the vampire's hand rip into his flesh as he pulled away. He quickly made distance between himself and the creature by kicking off the floor in front of him and jumping back pulling his Tanto out of it's sheath as he landed holding it in a reverse grip and bringing his body low to the ground in preparation for combat. It hadn't taken him long to tell that this creature was no human. He'd fought enough vampires to know one when he fought one. Human's didn't take high risks like smashing out a window unless they were drugged up fools. But even those people had a certain aura about them a sense of crazed feral behavior. However this man knew exactly what he wanted he could tell by the way his initial attack seemed planned. This man was a vampire without a doubt likely the very one he'd been assigned to hunt.

"Good...saves me the trouble of hunting your arse down." Call said flashing the vampire a brief smile the shallow cuts in his arm from the vampire's nails already visibly closing.

His paranoia paid of it seemed. As he turned back his scanning of the area he was able to quickly recognize the threat of the knives and the vampire as it shattered through a window and towards them both. Blades and more were thrown at Anthony with  surprising accuracy. Most of the time when you were throwing more than knife in your hand you would be lucky for them all to go in the same relative direction. Guess vampirism certainly had some perks. But not enough it would turn out to eliminate him from the battle round one.

Anthony seeing these blades jumped to the side and turned his body so that the blades would only scratch against the side of his arm. Doing nothing more than superficial wounds to him. nothing that would actualy hinder him. He bore those wounds without a grimace and he mentally prepared himself to unleash pages as he made his way down all around him so that they would carry him away from the direct combat his friend would be engaged in. But before he was carried away there was something which did surprise him and even caused his eyes to widen for a moment as it lunged towards his upper chest. It was a wicked looking chain controlled through some kind of unholy sorcery. This chain may very well have taken Anthony out of the fight had it landed, and perhaps for good. But it did not land on him. It soared towards him and struck against his armor of scripture where it bounced off in a shower of sparks only a moment before he was taken away by his pages. Perhaps it would sit like a rock in Anthony's stomach but he would be able to give a great deal of help from afar and very little up close where he was considerably outmatched by these two. Besides he could now be a little more at ease for his friend knowing this chain would have about as much luck against him as it did against himself. His pages carried him a good distance away from the two and to the side of their battle very quickly. When they were finished carrying him after only a moment he reappeared and pulled out one of his guns and began to fire at the vampire Call was engaged in. Four shots he fired one of them aimed towards his legs another towards his hip, one to the lower stomach, and the fourth back to his legs. He was aware that with Call being engaged in combat and going for a head but any shots to high could be very potentially dangerous to his friend so he had to shoot low.  Although it should be noted that Anthony would not fire even these shots should Call at any moment in time be in their way unless it was absolutely necessary for him to take the risk to save one of their lives.

OOC: I think I've got a hit on ya Call. As we established before, Almos would be coming in from 9 o'clock at Call who had his chest at 12 o'clock speaking with Anthony. You made no mention of rotating to face Almos which means Call's chest would still be at roughly 12 o'clock when Almos' left hand checked Call's left arm resulting in positioning similar to this: http://www.gojushorei.com/attachments/Image/Weapon_Techniques/Cane_Defense_Against_a_Punch/cdap03.jpg but with the left arm of the guy on the right down at his side and the stick guy's left hand on the elbow (also no stick in our fight of course XD). Since the spear hand was thrown in a hooking arc, it'd be coming at the back of Call's head, beyond the reach of his right hand since that checked arm would prevent Call from turning properly to address it. Even if he could get his right hand over there, catching Almos' wrist wouldn't hold up as he'd be trying to use the strength of his grip/fingers alone to stop a swing with the strength of Almos' entire arm and momentum behind it. Their strength being equal, the spear hand would realistically blast right through leading to: http://31.media.tumblr.com/430588aa257dc2cc67ccf81b0120a6a4/tumblr_mpp8mwIaRd1svjrcxo10_400.gif I'm going to post with this in mind and leave it up to the Staff to confirm whether or not my argument holds weight. If they decide this is bullshit I'll happily rewrite it accordingly.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His left hand pressed down on the archer's left arm as planned, sealing the movement of the limb and the clergyman himself for a moment as Almos moved to end this as swiftly as possible. In his peripheral vison, the Hungarian could faintly make out the Exorcist evading the knives with expert timing. He might have seemed less confident than the archer but there was no doubt that he had experience in fierce combat. No matter though, he was distracted long enough for Almos to cut his opposition in half. His hooking strike came in hot with the full power of his right arm and forward momentum behind it, slinking around to the back of the archer's neck. Evidently, the bowman also had good eyes as his right hand came up to try and deflect the crippling blow. However, reaching so far across one's own chest to parry was a fool's errand, this was over. Almos' clawed fingertips slashed into the back of Call's neck, cleaving through flesh to hit the delicate spinal column just below. He'd intended to punch through the priest's entire neck but much to the vampire's surprise, the clergyman's muscles were incredibly dense, far stronger than a normal man's should be. All the vampire could manage at an angle like that was a moderate slicing wound across the back of neck. But that was plenty considering the target.

Cutting through the inhuman priest's spinal cord, the former monk's strike should induce immediate paralysis below the neck if not kill the Papist outright. It was at about that time that a blessed bullet punched its way through Lorand's left shin. The vampire, now painfully aware that the other priest had survived Enkidu, dropped to one knee, dragging the limp archer's body down in front of him to serve as a meat shield against further bullets. Pressed against the disabled priest's back, Almos almost immediately felt the intense burn moving across the parts of his body touching the archer's torso. Remembering those bloody pages the Exorcist had been manipulating earlier, it didn't take the vampire's old training as an exorcist himself to kick in and put two and two together. Don't touch the torso. Instead, Lorand shifted his grip to the archer's head and brought his strength to bare, violently twisting the man's head 360 degrees to fully destroy whatever might have remained of the Iscariot's spinal column and finish him for good.

Call's blood splattered as the creatures strike landed and his flesh was broken through. But Anthony did not register how serious of a wound that necessarily was at the moment. In fact he was unaware of pretty much everything other than a single constant burning to desire to end this creature which had dared to hurt his friend in THE holy city itself. Anthony's pages still falling to the ground were summoned once more called to duty. And as the vampire felt the stinging blow of his bullet punch through his ankle he was taken away by his pages. Behind this vampire who had thrown Call's body in front of himself to protect him from Anthony's further bullets. Then as he burnt himself on Call's torso which was covered in blessed scripture Anthony took aim at the back of his head and fired. Three shots. They came in a moment after the total and utter destruction of any chance for his friend. Which was the destruction of his neck. Anthony's heart skipped a beat. His soul screamed in agony as it was crushed under the weight of his failure. But his body did not give out. Not yet, his fingers continued their motions towards the vampire. Aware that the head was a small target he aimed for his torso. If he tried to use Call's body for cover again then Anthony would shoot through his friends neck to try and hit the vampire that way.

Then as his clip emptied and as the last bullet left the barrel of the gun he was posed with a horrible choice. He wanted to stay. To fight, to die with his friend giving everything he possible could for his God and for his brothers and sisters. But this creature had taken down his very skilled regenerating friend in but a couple masterful moves. Imagine what he would do to innocent civilians Anthony told himself. He remembered that chain, that chain of sorcery and dark construction. He was clearly more in tune with harnessing the horrible powers of the darkness that he had become apart of than most other vampires. Knowing this Anthony made the hardest decision in his life. Something that would cause him unbearable pain.

He left. His bullet speeding away as his pages swirled about him taking him to the orphanage where he would get some one who would fight this darkness with light. Someone who was even better with scripture than he was. Anthony was surprised with how calm he was. there was no anger. No pain. Nothing. Not even darkness or a feeling of loss. No, those would come later. But for now he had a mission. Something that he would not screw up, something that hopefully wouldn't turn out like this. After all how could it? He was just going to talk to someone. But then again he was involved. So it was highly likely that at least one of his friends would die because of this.

These thoughts an through his mind as his bullet sped towards wherever it would go. And as that happened his pages gathered around him and took him to his beloved orphanage.

Exit. In shame. To the orphanage. ----------->

Ps. Almos feel free to easily dodge these bullets as you wish. I don't really feel to right about attacking you from behind without giving you any chance to strike back.

Violently destroying the regenerator's neck, Almos couldn't help but notice the brilliant golden pages that had flared to life around the gun totting Exorcist.  His burns from the Gospel vest had made him wary of such tricks and he tossed aside the limp body of the archer immediately after breaking his neck and turned towards the path of the pages.  For his trouble, the vampire received a bullet wound in the left shoulder which he could only imagine was originally intended for the back of his skull.  Roaring in pain and surprise, Almos reeled backward, dimly aware that he'd unwittingly avoided two other bullets aimed at his head.  His leg hindered, the vampire fell onto his back and summoned his Sphere of Desecration as a defense against the priest's continued barrage of blessed ammunition.  The holy rounds rebounded at random off the crimson surface and Lorand flashed an arrogant smirk at the priest.  The pain the clergyman was going through was easy enough to read.  He'd just looked on helplessly as a dear friend was murdered.  How would he react, Almos wondered.  Suicidal rage?  Utter depression?  No, the boy ran.  Perhaps for help, perhaps for survival but in either case the vampire scoffed at the retreating pages and brought down his shield, it's limit exhausted anyway.  

"Well then, on to business," Almos groaned, rolling over and grabbing the limp body of the archer by the hair to bring him closer.  He clearly wasn't human but thus far there was no evidence of him stirring.  Even if there was a chance for him to recover, with his neck still twisted around like that he'd be a limp sac of meat for a while.  Pulling him close, Almos sank his fangs into the side of the priest's neck and drank deep to recover a bit of stamina and ease the irritation of being out in the day.  Slowly but surely, the memories began to flow into him and the Hungarian allowed a silent cry of celebration.  He'd chosen the right man after all, the man holding his letter was currently in his arms.  Tearing his fangs away, Almos took a large chunk of meat from the archer's neck with him and casually reached into the pocket containing the letter before placing it in his own coat pocket.  Sighing, Almos could already feel his injured leg beginning to heal.  It would be a few minutes before he could run at full speed but he was now confident enough to put weight on it.  However, he was dealing with Iscariot, no reason to take any chances.  Reaching down while taking care to avoid that damned vest, Almos grabbed the archer's sidearm and drew it from it's holster before placing it against the downed Iscariot head.  "In the name of the uncaring," Almos said, pulling the trigger to fire a point blank headshot into the archer's skull.  "The untrustworthy." Two more pulls of the trigger, two more shots at the Iscariot skull.  "And the unkind.  Enjoy being raped in Hell," the vampire exclaimed, firing the weapon at the bloody clergyman's body three more times with a look of mild interest on his face.  

Tossing aside the stolen weapon, Lorand hauled himself to his feet and made his way down the street a short way with a noticeable limp until he reached a manhole cover.  Lifting it with one hand, he lowered himself into the sewers and replaced the cover behind him.  His clothing had absorbed his bleeding enough to ensure that there were no telltale signs of his blood to lead any investigators into the sewers.  Even then, every step was growing easier and easier as the vampire made his way out of the city.  In a few moments he'd be back to full speed and quickly making his way out of this blasted city at top speed.  He'd gotten what he came here for.  Time to cut his losses.  

====>Exit

Devlin had ran into the area with one of his revolvers in hand with his civilian outfit on. Ready to fight.  However the Irishman was disappointed when there was no vampire in sight.  He sighed because he could've ignored the note that flew in and had a few more drinks in the pub.  But alas it was his job to act on these sort of things. He looked around the area and almost immediately noticed the dead body. He walked over and began investigating it.  noting the way the bodied layed and that a chunk of the priest's neck was missing.  Given his current clothes he hoped that whoever else was coming wasn't the shoot first and ask questions later type.  Who could've done this and why?  The note mentioned something about a letter but wasn't specific enough.  Devlin carefully searched the pockets of the dead priest looking for anything out of place or just plain odd.  He still had his revolver in one hand as he was searching the body.

Enter from the Orphanage.
-------------------------

A violent stream of pages arced across the sky with a noticeable speed, carrying the enraged nun hidden within their golden veil across the city toward the scene of what Father Diem described. This was sloppy, unprofessional, unworthy of Iscariot's reputation as messengers of God. Granted, many died in this line of work, but rarely had she heard of a regenerator being brought down in such a quick of a manner as Diem described. The thought disturbed her as she ran over the information she had received. This abomination could conjure shields to repel silver and blessed objects and possessed a chain that could be manipulated at will.

Heresy! Veronicas mind immediately found her answer. She had worked with blessings long enough to have an intimate understanding of them and their weaknesses and opposites, it was her specialty after all. She understood the description of a well practiced, blasphemous art when she heard one.

Dealing with a vampire was already troublesome enough, let alone one who tampered with the dark arts to counteract the churches only real means of fighting them. This was going to be difficult. The pages descended toward the street, forming a spiral of twisting paper before the Nuns form became visible within it, coming into full view as they dispersed around her. She took notice of the body and another man looking it over, a revolver in his hand.

It appears she was late.

It was a civilian outfit, but she was fairly certain she recognized the man from within the Iscariot ranks. Turning her attention back to the body as the pages neatly ordered and slipped themselves back into the satchel on the back of her waist. This is just wrong... was her only thought about the condition of the body before she turned toward Devlin.

"Did you find anything?"

While investigating Devlin noticed a blade not too far from the body.  He stood up as a nun flying on bible pages arrived.  Great, instead of a forensics, they send a nun. Devlin thought as the nun spoke.  "Nothin' really, jus' a sword that isn't one of ours. Missing a wee bit of his neck.  Also his neck was broken.  Whatever the bastard wanted, he got it.  No letter at all."  Devlin said as he walked over to the sword and picked it up and swung it around a few times before taking off his over coat and and wrapped the sword in it.  He wondered about the attacker.  "He was an Archer correct? His quiver is full, my guess, was taken by surprise wasn't able to put much of a fight" Devlin motioned at the quiver. "Do you have anything worth mentioning?

Veronica crossed her arms as she was told what was already obvious. Broken neck and chunks of it missing, she didn't particularly care about which one of those things killed him. She was more focused on where the abomination that did it went and why the letter that Diem mentioned was gone. It was a calculated attack, that much was certain. But if the vampire had the ability to bring down a regenerator so quickly, why let Father Diem escape? It was a targeted assault, Diem wasn't an object of interest. Diem had informed her that the letter Call was carrying was important, and seeing no other motive behind this attack and the fact the letter wasn't on his body, it quickly became obvious why this happened.

This particular member of Iscariot had something it wanted, so he set up an ambush and took it; letting the unwanted pest escape while getting away with the letter. She had wondered about it, but now it was clear.

"According to my information... This particular vampire tampers with the dark arts, it has the ability to reject blessed and silver objects that get too close to it. Even if he had gotten a shot off with the arrows, it probably would have been pointless..." She stopped for a moment, glancing at the surroundings for any signs of a trail that she could follow. "But more importantly, we need to find out what the letter was. That was the entire reason behind this whole incident and its most likely the reason why Father Diem escaped with his life..."

Seeing her arms crossed Devin smirked a little bit.  She was impatient.  Devin, on the other hand, was patient.  He like knowing the causes of deaths especially in cases of murder. It gave insight to how the person fights.  Information that proves useful when you run into the murderer.  Devin whistled in amusement at the description of the vampires ability to use the dark arts.  He was intrigued, but all he knew was that even without blessings whoever did this could still die from a bullet.  So he wasn't too worried.  In the end if it came down to it, the dark at and blessings would most likely contradict each other and do nothing if they were to clash. 

He noticed her looking around the area.  "He's long gone by now sister,  If I were him I would've taken to the sewers.  It's a labyrinth down there easy to lose a tail.  Even harder to pick up one down there."  He said speaking from past experiences.  He had a few missions where he had to infiltrate a place which usually required him to traverse the sewers. His statement was even more true when it came down to large cities like Rome.  Devlin figured from the time he received the note it was probably an hour.  If he was right the vampire could be anywhere in Rome if it was even still in Rome.

He listened to her statement about the letter.  Obvious as it was, she was most likely right. "I agree with you there, and our best bet to start would probably be with Section III.  I mean if this letter was so important that the vampire had to kill him for it, then they probably have a record of it.  At the very least a Record of Father MacAleese taking it." Devlin said knowing that Matthew seems to have a record of every little item in the Vatican.

The mention of the sewers was an interesting suggestion. It was the safest route to take if you didn't want to be spotted by anyone, especially with the chances of several Iscariot looking for you. However, a quick smirk formed on her lips at the mention of the vampire being long gone. Hunting the disgusting things were all part of the fun, it wasn't as satisfying if they didn't put up a challenge after all. The problem with the vampire's trail being lost wasn't really that big of an issue, not for her anyway. If he was still in Rome then a quick run around over the general area would solve their problems. She possessed a rather unique skill in the area of hunting down undead, and though she hadn't fully refined and mastered it, that's what she was going to rely on.

"Luckily for us that's not really an issue since the targets a vampire. He's most likely out of range at the moment since I cant feel him, but I can sense when vampires are in the area. I might not be able to pinpoint it, but a quick search around would give me the general idea of where he's located and allow me to close in, even if he's taking cover inside the sewer system. However.."

Veronica turned her attention back to the body, then to Moriarty. "You're right in regards to the letter. If the Church is famous for anything, it's keeping track of our information. There's bound to be some record filed if MacAleese was allowed to carry something that important. But it'll be quicker if we split the workload." The a slight smirk appeared on her lips again.

"I don't suppose you're one for digging up records, are you?"

(OOC: Sorry, Dev. I've got a satanic vampire to catch.)

Veronica turned around without saying another word and flew off into the sky with her pages.

Exit ----> A hasty retreat.