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The Crusade of Blood. (Action Thread)

Everyone: The year is 1727 of the Imperial Calendar and in the lands of chivalry and knightly honour the sun has set with the sister moons Mannslieb and Morrslieb rise high into the dark sky with the darker of the sisters, Morrslieb, casting a vile green glow over the land revealing an ancient lichen covered castle nestled between the towering peaks of the Grey Mountains and the ancient wood of Forest of Loren. There is nothing but deathly silence sounding this castle as all things living long since abandoned the surrounding lands and villages when its current master took up residence there some four hundred years ago. But while nothing living has inhabited the castle for hundreds of years it does not mean it’s abandoned as those traveling by will see shadowy forms upon its ramparts and dark silhouettes stalk through the fire light halls of the keep itself as the undead do the bidding of their master, Mordred Von Drakenblood.

As Mannslieb and Morrslieb slowly make their way across the night’s sky the castle is a hub of activity as those undead bound to the will of their master do his bidding by preparing for Mordred’s “Crusade of Blood” against the lands of Bretonnia to retrieve several artefacts linked back to the original homeland of the vampire race and dreaded artefacts created by necromancers in a forgotten age too powerful to destroy but to dangerous to leave unguarded and finally the recovery of the skeleton of a long dead Carmine dragon that is so saturated with the Winds of Death it calls out to those that wish to master it. And so it is that when Mordred called you answered his summons to join him in this crusade of blood for such reasons as finding nothing but pure bloodshed to sate your first for battle and destruction, the gathering of powerful magical artefacts, serving the liege-lord who sired you and freed you from the bonds of mortality or even repaying an old debt that you owe.


The Eastern Rampart (Ulric, Gaelen, Radu, Khalidel): Upon the Eastern Rampart stand seven lords of Undeath gazing out towards the Grey Mountains with six of them stood a few feet behind the seven and while each of them is a paragon of might and fighting prowess in their own right is the one who stands apart from the group of six standing together that is perhaps the most terrifying vampire in the entire keep, Mordred Von Drakenblood, with his shoulder length black hair left to tumble down behind his ears to reveal a snow white hauntingly handsome face with high cheek bones and piercing red eyes that stare out into the darkness, fully armoured in his black and red warplate which with ever slight movement black wisps of dark magic rise from the gaps between each plate and at his side is sheathed the dreaded Black Blade of Mordred which is said to rival that of the might Runefangs of the Empire but while Mordred is terrifying in his own right when he stands with those who are the true ‘Sons of Mordred’ then nothing living or dead will be able to stand in his or their way and all of the vampires bar one that stand behind him can call him their ‘Father-in-Darkness’.

The First among these are oldest of the group is Hienrick Von Drakenblood who was Mordred’s adopted son in life and most loyal follower in Undeath, standing a just under six foot in height Hienrick wears dark silver plate armour sculpted to perfectly to match his own physical form which when combined with his snow white skin makes him seem like a white marble statue of a young elven god that belongs in some temple in the elven homelands, while Hienrick like his ‘father’ is unearthly handsome his features are largely concealed by a blood red scarp wrapped around the lower features of his face concealing everything from his nose down as his scarlet eyes peer out through the strands of his shoulder length white hair that now seems to have taken on an ethereal blue tint. Standing to Hienrick’s right is the second oldest of Mordred’s sons: Ulric Von Drakenblood once the youngest son of a Brettonian Duke Ulric stands at just over six feet in height and is perhaps the strongest vampire in terms of physical strength in the entire castle save for the fallen knight: Klaus, his younger ‘brother’ Tyreal and his ‘Father’ Mordred. Wrapped around his black and crimson coloured armour are two monstrous bat like wings which are currently folded close to his body like a cape hiding the sword sheathed at his side and upon his head keeping back his shoulder length hair sits a silver coloured circlet with a deep emerald gem set in the middle of it.

Next among the sons of Mordred is Gaelen Von Drakenblood, third eldest of the five true ‘sons’, like his brother Ulric he stands just over six foot with long dark hair held at bay by a golden circlet with a deep crimson gem set into its center. Like Ulric he wears armour of a deep crimson and black but while Ulric is a almost a hulking mass of muscle Gaelen is lithe and as quick as a serpent as other than his Father is the quickest vampire in the entire castle. As Gaelen stands beside Ulric it is clear these two ‘brothers’ have little love for each other as to Gaelen, Ulric is little more than an uncouth barbarian even though Ulric comes from the noble hands of Bretonnia and Gaelen from the unforgiving lands of Kislev. Standing to the right of Gaelen is the fourth of Mordred’s sons, the almost feral looking Tyreal Von Drakenblood whose wild yet relatively short black hair and blood shot crimson eyes make him look like his grip on self control could snap at any moment and he would then take his blade to what ever finds itself within reach. Standing a little shorter than his three older brothers Tyreal like them is armoured in the colors of their Lord and Father though his armour sports many spikes and blade like additions that still have dried blood on them yet to be removed.

The fifth and youngest son of Mordred is Khalidel Von Drakenblood though while he is the youngest stands as tall as Ulric and Gaelen and whose physical build is only slightly larger than his older brother Gaelen. With shoulder length raven black hair he unlike Gaelen and Ulric does not have a circlet to keep it held at bay which could either be a sign of Mordred’s disapproval or Khalidel simply doesn’t care about such things. Khalidel is the only one of the Sons of Mordred not to wear a suit of plate armour but instead chooses to wear a form fitting suit of mail crafted by the dwarves long ago which gives him an impressive and district appearance compared to his brothers yet also seems to isolate him, of all of his children Khalidel is the only one who seems to both hate and respect Mordred for cursing him with vampirism.

Though while there are five sons of Mordred there are six vampires stood behind him and the six vampire is one who Mordred considers being more of a son to him than Khalidel and his name is: Radu Von Carstien. Radu like most of those Blood Dragons around him stands he stands a little over six feet, has shoulder length raven-black hair that falls lazily around a perfect snow white face so it isn’t surprising that Radu is often thought of actually being a six Sons of Mordred by the other vampires in the castle that are not of Mordred’s or Elizabeth’s Bloodline. Like all the others save Khalidel, Radu is armoured in his armour of black plates covered in blood red roses but while he shares the bloodline of the Von Carsteins upon the shield strapped across his back is the heraldry of an roaring dragons head entwined around a black blade, the symbol of the Von Drakenblood house hold which shows he is favored by Mordred and atleast tolerated in his presence more than other vampires not of his blood line.

The Great Hall (Maithas, Klaus, Natasha, Nuso): Unlike most of the ancient castle the great hall is the most well kept as it is where the lords and ladies of the night gather in their numbers to dine and make their plans of death and destruction upon the world of the living. The great hall is a large room lit by many torches and fire places that burn with magical witch-light created by the lady of the castle, Elizabeth Von Drakenblood, so that even vampires might feel their warmth if only for a short time, normally the great hall is filled with undead servants bringing their masters goblets of blood to drink from or dragging still living peasants and nobles to their tables to be feasted upon while Mordred watches impassively from his terrifying obsidian throne that dominates the hall with its mere presence. But now the great hall is completely bare with only several benches brought in to act as seating areas as the entire castle prepares for war though the black throne still remains with Lady Elizabeth casually seated upon it watching those vampires gathered with her piercing red eyes. In the great hall there are sixteen vampires present: Elizabeth Von Drakenblood and her two hand maidens, the so called ‘Sons of Mordred’ ten fledging vampires who are currently sprawled upon the floor with deep cuts across their undead flesh as a vampires clad only in a red dress stands in the center of the ring of vampires with two blades in her hands.

She is Natasha Von Drakenblood, the ‘daughter-in-darkness’ of Elizabeth and one of the best swordsmen among all vampires gathered in the castle save the true Sons of Mordred who currently stand upon the castle ramparts. Natasha stands just less than six feet in height with her shoulder length blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail as he looks distastefully down upon those vampires that sought to test their skill against her. Sat upon one of the benches observing the fight is the Lahmian Vampire Nuso Esva from Albion with a dire wolf sat either side of her staring straight ahead, Nuso has long dark brown hair that stretches down passed her shoulders and has the facial structure of minor nobility which makes her seem to fight in with all the other vampires within the castle and this attracted the attention of Elizabeth who seems to have taken a motherly type approach to Nuso though no-one but the Lady of the Castle knows why.

Standing impassively several meters away from the seated Nuso is the amour plated silver blonde haired form of Klaus, a Vampiric brettonian knight who in his veins runs the bloodline of the great Abhorash who mastered his thirst by consuming the blood of a dragon. Fully armoured Klaus cuts an impressive figure with his armors dark plates a stark contrast to his silver blonde almost white hair that cascades down his to his shoulders and sheathed at his side is a dragon-hilted black blade while his shield is strapped over his back bearing the symbol of his noble house hold long since perverted into something darker. Finally on the other side of the great hall opposite Klaus is Maithas Blackjoy another Brettonian Knight who was turned to vampirism, but unlike his appearance is almost the opposite to Klaus’s as he has a ragged black beard that meets his raven black hair and his full plate armour is a steel blue tint instead of a dark grey. Maithas like Klaus seems to be observing the fight with mild interest as the female vampiress overpowers the ten blood dragon fledglings.

The Dungeons (Tzimisce, Sasha, Yakov, Alexander): Deep under the ancient castle are the dark and grim dungeons that belong to the castle above, lit only by torches the dungeons are a network of tunnels and passage ways that lead to its many cells where creatures of all kinds are held to await death or experimentation. Those that make their way from the castle down into the dungeons will find that the guardroom that all the passages lead into has now been expanded into an enormous torture chamber filled with both mundane and arcane devices of pain along with shelves of strangely colored vials and shelves filled with books of black magic that allow its deranged keepers to attempt to create unlife from the corpses of the dead. Crouched in the far corner of the guardroom is the monstrous form of Yakov of the Strigoi bloodline, his huge armoured form is hunched forward as he perches ontop of one of the metallic tables with his huge wings folded against his back as he stares down into the eyes of a terrified merchant from the lands of the Empire.

Standing several meters away and hunched over a squirming wood elf is the corpse-like frame of Tzimisce one of the vampires who can trace his blood line back to W’Soran the first of the Necrachs, in his faded and tattered robes Tzimisce looks like a month old corpse that had just been dug up and started to wander the world once again and his currently applying his utterly mad mind to work out if an elf can scream if you remove their tongue with a pair of sheep shears while reciting a norscan drinking song of bedding wenches and cracking skulls. Currently pacing back and forth near one of the many door ways that lead away from the guardroom is Alexander who like Yakov is a descendant of Ushoran the Lord of Mask’s, though once a handsome young Kislev noble Alexander is now little more than a skulking beast armed with a sword and clad in blood and mud caked armor. As he paces by the door on all fours like an animal his long claw like fingers leave scratch marks on the floor as he mutters insanely to himself about why brettonian noble women should all wear white until they find a husband, why he is talking to himself about this no-one knows but those other vampires in the room don’t seem to care.

The final vampire in the dungeon is in the appearance of that of a small boy around the age of twelve to thirteen years of age who stands on several boxes as he dissects the corpse of an ogre tyrant for use-able limbs and organs to use in the creation of one of the siege engines required to break down the walls of the castle which holds the arcane treasures Mordred is after. This vampires name is Sasha Vykos and he too shares the same blood line progenitor as Tzimisce but while the older Necrach is completely mad Sasha’s mind is relatively intact.

The Library (Markus, Ezekiel, Viktor): Within the castle’s library lit only by torches of blue witch-light and a roaring open fire place stand three lords of the night, each as different from one another as a raven is different from wolf. Standing by the roaring fire is Ezekiel Von Carstien oldest of the his blood line present within the castle at this point, wearing a long robe of dark purple his mane of black hair is tied back from his moon-light white skin into a single pony which allows him to read the book currently grasped within his left hand as he paces back and forth by the fire quietly mouthing the words that he reads, though he currently stands un-armoured and with only his sword sheathed at his waist it is clear that to take on such a vampire will result in a quick and bloody execution.

Next is Markus Von Carstien fully armoured in his full plate armor and ready for battle at a moments notice, standing at six feet in height with thick light brown hair this vampire has muscles that even a dwarf would be proud off to arm wrestle against is said to be strong enough to match Ulric Von Drakenblood is strength of arms but not in speed or skill with a blade, leaning against a very old and antique table with his shield beside him Markus sharpens the edge of his onyx colored blade while watching the other two vampires in the room with mild disinterest. Finally there is Viktor Von Carstien the youngest of the three vampires present in this room, standing at five foot ten with short blonde hair this vampire looks barely a day over twenty four though he has walked the earth for over two-hundred and seventy. Like Markus, Viktor stands armoured in his full plate armor but with his sword blades sheathed at his waist and his great sword slung over his back as he merely stands there with his helmet that resembles the head of a snarling dragon tucked under his left arm with his right hand merely hanging at his side as he looks between Markus and Ezekiel.

Markus: You sit in the library watching the two other vampires with you with mild disinterest as you sharpen your black blade as you await the summons of Mordred and the call to war which will drown Bretonnia in a sea of bloodshed that will be most satisfying. Looking from the other two vampires in the room you have picked up the slight scent that while each of your ‘sires’ was different you all atleast seem to stem from the same blood line though you have no idea who that is. Since you started sharpening your blade you have heard the sound of blades ringing against each other but chose to ignore it as it just sounds like those barbaric vampires who belong to the bloodline of Abhorash testing themselves against each other and that the only ones you seem interested in testing yourself against are those five vampires known as the Sons of Mordred who he turned himself. Shifting your thoughts back to the two vampires infront of you, you recall that none of you have said a thing to each other since you arrived in this room, perhaps you should get to know your ‘brothers’ by finding out who they are and from whence they came for future reference. (Im leaving you quite abit of free reign to ask the other two what you want so perhaps talk to them in pms before posting? If you want to you can also go walk around the castle or go into the great hall to see what is fully going on.)

Maithas: You stand in the great hall opposite the vampire knight called Klaus but like him you are watching the Lahmian vampiress defeat all ten of the blood dragon fledglings without even taking so much as a scratch. Looking down at the fledging vampires you can tell that all of them have barely been vampires for atleast twenty years and that none of them are sired by Mordred even though they carry the title ‘The Sons of Mordred’ and that the true sons of Mordred are stood outside on the eastern rampart with him. Looking around the great hall at the other vampires gathered you decide to make your way from the great hall and go out onto the ramparts and walk in the eerie moonlight of Morrslieb and perhaps even find out what the others that share the blood of Abhorash are doing. Leaving the great hall you step outside onto the northern rampart and look out towards the Grey Mountains in the distance and you can’t help but wonder why Mordred was unable to defeat a dwarf thane and his little band of filthy dwarvish fighters. Turning away from the mountains to look over to see Mordred standing with Ulric, Hienrick, Tyreal, Gaelen, Khalidel and Radu on the eastern rampart staring out towards the mountains aswell so perhaps you should go and see what exactly it is they are doing. (Feel free to do what you like, pretty much free reign in what you decide to do at the moment)

Klaus: You stand in the great hall watching the female vampire Natasha Von Drakenblood fight ten vampires which you are able to tell are part of the Blood Dragon line of Abhorash like yourself yet within minutes they drop one by one until Natasha is left standing in a circle of downed vampires looking rather disappointed and annoyed. You must admit who ever trained her to use her blades is a master swordsman himself who you would surely like to test your abilities against, and her blades look like they were created by a master smith aswell and enchanted with dark magic to enhance her abilities. This has pique your curiosity in this Lahmian vampiress so perhaps when Natasha has finished showing off her skills and shaming the younger vampires than you could ask her who taught her the ways of the blade and where she got her blades from? After a few moments at staring at the vampiress you turn your attention to the vampire standing directly across from you that appears to be the complete opposite with his black hair and light armour but you are able to tell that he shares the same bloodline as you so perhaps you could test your skill against him sometime. (Like Markus im giving you pretty much free reign in what you decide to do so pm me if you have any ideas you think you might need checking first of all)

Yakov: You are crouched ontop of one of the metal tables staring down into the eyes of a still living merchant of the empire who is trashing against his restraints in an attempt to get away from you. You have been inside of the dungeon for the last few hours having arrived down here after having Tyreal Von Drakenblood personally boot you down the stairs for getting in his way when he was going to meet Mordred and what you remember of that experience still hurts slightly as the tip of your left wing is broken from bouncing against each step with enough force to crack each one, you still remember seeing: Ceiling, step, ceiling, step, ceiling, step until you finally crashed through the dungeon doors crushing a skeleton who was moving some crates for one of the Necrachs experimenting on their captives. Shaking away the memory of being booted down into the dungeons you look back down at the human and see that you have been drooling on him which has made him cough and splutter in disgust at how vile your breath is, seeing as the Necrachs in the room aren’t using this captive maybe you should have some fun with him by tearing him to pieces one little body part at a time, starting with his fingers and toes?

Ezekiel: You currently pace back and forth by the fire in Mordred’s library reading up on the history of the empire from the last two hundred years and you smile slightly as you have been around longer than most of the things written in the book you are reading. As you quietly mouth each word to yourself your mind shifts to think about the other two vampires standing in the room with you. Both clearly share the same bloodline as yourself but that begs the question of who is the progenitor of your line? Who is your common ancestor? Stopping mid step you turn to regard the two other vampires inspect them both noticing that they are still fully armoured while you are in a rather expensive purple robe but as you are the oldest vampire in the room neither of them poses a threat to you. Snapping the book shut you deposit on the shelf and scan through the other titles before deciding that you have gotten bored of staying in this quite room and go for a walk around the castle, though if you wish to stay and engage the two other vampires in conversion that is your choice.(Up to you what you wish to do at the moment)

Tzimisce: You are currently stood over a capture would elf with his mouth held open by two skeletons with a third holding his tongue in position as you pick up the sheep sheers, since you decided to see whether an elf can still scream with his tongue cut out you started singing a norscan drinking sung of battle and wenches much to the annoyance of the other vampires in the room as you are practically tone deaf and don’t seem to entirely know the words. Picking up the sheep sheers you turn back to the elf and slice straight through his tongue with the blades laughing out as the elves blood spurts out in all directions as he gargles a scream of pain before the skeletons release his jaw to allow him to practically almost drown in his own blood as it fills his mouth. Turning from the elf you look around at the others in the guardroom having already lost interest in the elf for now you have him thrown back into his cell before walking over to see what the small form of Sasha is doing with the corpse of the ogre. After watching the small but rather old Necrach go about his work you look over to a pile of metal, bone, organs and corpses and suddenly realize that it is that Sasha is making: A Necrofex Colossus and for one of those rare moments in your long life your sanity reforms itself partially to allow you to see that it will require much more to make it truly worthy of a Necrach. Perhaps you should wander around the cells looking for larger monsters to butcher and dissect for parts or study some of the dark lore contained within the books for how to bring such a creature into unlife? (Like the others, pretty much free reign)

Ulric: Standing out in the eerie green light of Morrslieb upon the eastern rampart you are stood several meters behind your lord, master, and ‘father’ Mordred Von Drakenblood as he gazes out towards the eastern mountains. To your left is Hienrick Von Drakenblood the only son of Mordred older than yourself who has been with Mordred since when he was a human and your closest brother-in-darkness and standing to your right is Gaelen Von Drakenblood perhaps the only vampire you would openly attack for the slightly insult to you as you have been rivals for over two hundred years, why Mordred turned him you do not fully understand but know that Gaelen is the only vampire faster than yourself save Mordred. Turning to regard your hated brother you see that he like you is wearing the circlet gifted to him by Mordred which makes you want to lash out and punch Gaelen straight in the jaw though the last time you and Gaelen though Mordred slammed both your head heads together, broke seven of your ribs and dislocated all of your fingers before throwing you into the cells under the castle for three weeks until you both learnt not to fight each other. Looking back from Gaelen back out towards the mountains you wonder why Mordred didn’t take any of you with him when he went to make war upon the dwarves as he only took with him the Wight king known as the Accursed and the sniveling necromancer Helven Von Krieger, since his return from the Grey Mountains Mordred hasn’t truly been his old sense as he has been far more brooding than before and not even Hienrick fully knows what has brought on this change though perhaps you should ask your brother his thoughts on this? (Going to give you free reign in what you decide to do Midge.)

Natasha: You stand in the great hall with your blades in hand with the ten fledging vampires sprawled on the ground around you after they arrogantly thought that could beat you like you once thought you could beat Mordred. Luckily for them however you lack the rage and strength of a blood dragon so for now they escape with their existence. After looking down at the vampires around you, you turn your attention towards Elizabeth who is currently sat casually on Mordred’s obsidian throne smiling at you and clapping her hands together lightly at the entertainment you provided her with her other two hand maidens stood either side of their mistress with their hands clasped behind their backs waiting for what ever orders their mistress has. Bowing to Elizabeth you sheaths your twin blades and make your way over to her to ask if she requires anything before she replies in her silky honeyed voice. “It seems one of our sisters from the far lands of Albion have come to answer my dear husbands call. Perhaps you should introduce yourself to her and find out why she has come to join this crusade of blood?” Elizabeth then giggles to herself as she motions to Nuso before pushing herself out of the throne and disappears down one of the darkened hallways with her hand maidens in tow. If you talk to Nuso then that is entire up to you or you can follow after your mistress to find out what she is doing.

Standing on the eastern rampart with your four brothers: Hienrick, Ulric, Tyreal and Khalidel, along with the vampire known as Radu Von Carstien you are watching your sire Mordred stare out towards the grey mountains with hate filled eyes as it seems he is recalling the events of the battle he had with the Dwarven thane Ragnar Ironhand. While standing there with your brothers and lord you wonder why exactly Radu is standing here with you as he does not share the same blood line as the rest of you as he was not turned by Mordred yet the ancient blood dragon seems to favor the Von Carstien for some reason although you still cant help but do you best to resist the urge to pick up Radu and from him from the ramparts for being unworthy of standing in the presence of your ‘Father’ but while you dislike Radu you positively hate the vampire standing to your left: Ulric Von Drakenblood, the second eldest of Mordred’s ‘sons’ and the most uncouth and barbaric vampire in the entire castle save perhaps Tyreal who once again looks like he can barely contain his bloodlust. Though there are several Strigoi in the castle they cant help being the degenerate animals they are now due to the destruction of their ancient homeland but Ulric on the other hand has no excuse as ever time he enters battle he gives himself fully over to his Vampiric rage and hunger something which the great and noble Abhorash, father of the entire blood dragon line, told his followers in turn all of their descendents to find a way to cure their thirst like he has. While none of you have said a word to each other yet you get the feeling that one of your brothers will break this oddly peaceful silence with a completely pointless question so perhaps you should bring up a question which entirely does have a point and ask your lord and father what he plans to do with the treasures he reclaims after the war against the brettonians? (Feel free to do what you like at the moment, punch Ulric if you want to but I suggest reading his post above to read what happened the last time you two fought)

Khalidel: Starting upon the eastern ramparts of the castle you are the only one not of your brothers that are gathered looking towards Mordred, instead you are focusing your attention on the dark moon of Morrslieb as its makes its way across the sky where it then overtakes Mannslieb so it can cast a eerie green glow over the land which is as silent as the dead. Looking from the moon to your brothers you see that they are still focused on Mordred with Hienrick and Ulric looking very thoughtful, Gaelen looks like he has no idea what to think at the moment and Tyreal as always looks like he could tear someone’s throat out at the drop of a hat. Looking to your left you see the Radu Von Carstien and can’t help but feel annoyed that Mordred seems to favor him, an outsider and not of his own blood line, over you who he personally turned. Finally having enough you decide to turn away from the group and walk to the southern ramparts to look out towards the forest which the wood elves call home, while you stand there by yourself your eyes pierce the gloom with ease and you swear you can see movement in the shadows of the ancient wood and your suspicions are raised that the elves might be on their way but these are proven false as a rabbit shoots out from the forest quickly followed by a wolf. For now you just seem content to walk around the castle by yourself staying away from Mordred and the others, perhaps you should go and see how the resident Necrachs are getting on with their experiments? (Entirely up to you what you decide to do.)

Radu: You stand there under the eerie green light of Morrslieb with the five true Sons of Mordred and the Vampire Lord himself upon the eastern rampart looking out towards the grey mountains where Mordred fought the Dwarven thane Ragnar Ironfist. Though you are not of the Blood Dragon line you are allowed to stand with the Von Drakenblood’s and their Lord as it seems Mordred favors you for some unknown reason and have spent all the time you have been at the castle trying to think of why that is. The only plausible reason you have come up with so far is that he owes something to Medea and will look after you until her return though you have also been wondering how the two ancient vampires know each other in the first place as they are both so different. Looking over the ancient blood dragon you see that his piercing red eyes are fixed upon the Grey Mountains and are filled with hate but since his return to the castle he hasn’t said a word about the battle he had with the Dwarven thane only that he will return with an even greater force to crush the hold that dwarf calls home. Looking at the others gathered you see that Hienrick and Ulric look very thoughtful as they gaze at their sire, Gaelen you are unable to read as his attention shifts from one thing to the next, Tyreal as you noticed when you first met him looks like he could just about attack everyone here at the drop of a hat as his blood shot red eyes stare ahead and his hands tremble slightly, finally there is Khalidel who looks hatefully at his sire before turning and leaving. You’ve wondered why it is that Khalidel hates Mordred but you’ve never bothered to ask him, perhaps if you have the chance you could ask Mordred himself? For now it is entirely up to you whether you stay and attempt to have a conversation with those around you or explore the castle some more.

Sasha: Standing over the corpse of the ogre tyrant that was brought to you some hours ago you continue to dissect it as and place its various organs in different jars for future examination while trying to block out the sound of Tzimisce’s tone deaf singing which to you sounds like nails down a chalk board but you are unable to do anything about it as if you tried to put a spell on the older Necrach he is likely to take it as an attack and blast you into oblivion or worse use you for his own experiments. After finally removing the last of the ogre’s organs you have it cut up into pieces and each limb is taken to the pile of other rotten limbs ready for the construction of the Necrofex Colossus. Hoping down off of your crate you walk through the passage ways and past various cells filled with captive humans, elves, dwarves, a few cultists and even some creatures captured during battle or specifically hunted down and one of these is a manticore chained to the cell floor so it is unable to move at all and its scorpion tale is unable to move aswell, this would be a great addition to the Necrofex colossus however if Mordred or Elizabeth has one of Kadon’s scrolls then this creature could already be bound to their will….you should perhaps go and ask one of them first so turning from the captive manticore you head back up the stairs to look one of the two vampires who owns this castle. (Entirely up to you if you go after Elizabeth or Mordred. Also up to you if you take a detour to look around the castle some more or even go into the library to see what arcane books there are.)

Alexander: You are currently pacing back and forth on all fours in the dungeons muttering insanely to yourself about Brettonian noble women wearing white until marriage though you have no idea at all how you came up to this conclusion. Looking up from the floor you see that Yakov is still perched ontop of the metal table with the captive human merchant under him, Tzimisce has just finished with his little experiment with the wood elf and is now aimlessly wandering around the dungeon and the younger Necrach Sasha has finished dissecting the ogre and has go up into the castle looking for something though you have no idea what for. Turning your head to look left and right you catch the scent of something dead through one of the passage ways and turn to go and follow it. Making your way down the passage way you come to a cell with three humans lying on the floor lifeless yet still fresh, while you haven’t done much atleast you have found something to sate your hunger for now. (Feel free to do what you want with the bodies as they have recently died.)

Viktor: You stand in the library fully armed and armoured with your helmet tucked under your left arm as you watch the other two vampires in the room go about their business and since you met them you’ve been able to tell you share a common ancestor but you have no idea who but if anyone was to know then it would be the vampire called Ezekiel but he doesn’t seem that much older than the other vampire in the room. Looking between them you have decided that of them both the one who is fully armoured would be a very good sparring partner as he roughly has the same build as you and you assume has been a vampire just a little longer then you have. After starting there for a few more minutes in complete silence you decide to move from your current position to go and stand by the window so you can look out into the courtyard of the castle and onto its southern ramparts where you see a lone vampire in armour of red and black clearly one of Mordreds, though usually those sired by Mordred stay close to him this brings you to the assumption that it is Khalidel as he is the youngest of the Von Drakenblood line and is the only one who seems to hate and respect his master in equal measure. Perhaps you could go and talk to this vampire and find out why he is still in the castle if he hates Mordred so much?

Nuso: You are currently on one of the stone benches left inside of the great hall with a dire wolf either side of you as you watch the younger female Lahmian beat all ten of the blood dragon fledglings with ease using her twin blades which is slightly detestable as you prefer to deal with your opponents from afar rather than having to dirty your hands with the menial task of wielding a sword to kill unless you absolutely have to. Yawning slightly you look around the great hall as the younger Lahmian makes her way from the circle of fallen vampires over to Elizabeth von Drakenblood who is currently sat in her husbands throne, obviously something that if any other vampire tried they would have their head separated from their shoulders by Mordred’s Black Blade. For some reason Elizabeth has taken you under her wing since you arrived here and guess it was just in her nature to look after any vampires of the sisterhood that share the bloodline of the Queen of the Night Neferata who has not been seen in over a thousand years. Pushing yourself up from off the bench you make your way towards Elizabeth but before you reach her she disappears off down one of the passage ways with her hand maidens leaving you alone with the vampiress called Natasha and the Blood Dragon Knight Klaus which is interesting in itself as you’d assume one of Abhorash’s blood line would try to avenge any insult to his blood line yet Klaus hasn’t. (Like all others im leaving what you now decide to do up to you so feel free to do what you want and talk to who ever you want.)

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post #2 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-17-12, 09:27 PM
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With the eerie moonlight of Morrslieb falling on him, Mathias glanced at the beautiful night sky. It reminded him of Alessa, and all of her enchanting features. He wondered what she was doing at the manor all by herself. Though he didn't exactly know what his gem was doing, he felt content and trusting. Not even a touch of worry struck him, for Alessa was his everything. Coming back to reality, Mathias wondered further up the rampart towards the band of lords.
Before speaking, Mathias gazed at the lords. Taking in all the details about them. He then put his eyes upon the one who called on him for this "Blood Crusade". This one was called Mordred von Drakenblood, and he was a intimidating creature to say the least. Without further pause, Mathias said " Greetings fellow sons of night, if I may, can I inquire upon what you are doing on the rampart?". Further more, Mathias went on to address Mordred himself saying " My dear lord, I am at your command and will carve many bloody paths for you. I am willing to muster forces, lead, and anything else you need. Only if you would grant me the pleasure of doing so first.

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post #3 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-17-12, 11:23 PM
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Markus was sat, his sword across his lap, the jet-black blade seemingly absorbing light from the fire and witch-lights, and ran his whet-stone across it rhythmically in a way that soothed him - he disliked being around so many lords and ladies of the night, in such close proximity. Sniffing discreetly, he caught that scent he’d been catching all night ... Something familiar, almost primally, instinctively so, kept on drawing his attention. Sighing to himself, he stood, holding his sword blade down and closed his eyes momentarily, before sheathing it and rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. He dismissed his thoughts on the scent, before walking over to the bookcase, dismissively glancing over the titles that were collected there, despite their probable worth being immense. Growing bored, immensely so, of the silence in the room, beyond the gentle crackle of the fire and the rustling of clothes, Markus opened his mouth to talk.

“Markus, at your service,” he said to Ezekiel, clearly the oldest of the three vampires there, bowing slightly before turning to Viktor and repeating the gesture. His armour clanked gently as he did so, and his skin crawled, itching to release his vampiric appendages. ‘Soon,’ he told himself, deciding he’d follow the sounds of blades clashing and investigate the source, whilst literally spreading his wings. ‘First, I shall finish here.’ The thought fluttered through his mind and was gone just as quickly, as he waited for one of his extended family to respond.

Malochai von Carstein; Terror of Hunger Wood, Lord of Lichenhof Tower

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post #4 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-18-12, 12:29 PM
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Viktor stood in the library examining Mordreds collection, some of which he had procured for Modred, also seeing some others that other clients were inquiring about. Surely he wouldn’t miss a few volumes. Viktor made the thought vanish from his mind as he looked at the others in the room. Their scent was intriguing, relatives. In fact the entire castle was filled with the scent of all the bloodlines, how many had answered the call he thought to himself as he walked to the window.

Peering out into the beautiful night he noticed a lone vampire looking out into the forest with a sullen face.

Viktor lets out a small chuckle and says out loud “not one night and already there is unrest”.

He turns to leave the room to talk to the lone vampire. Just then the anxious looking one, who was sharpening his blade nonstop, stands and introduces himself to both in the room.

“Markus, at your service,” he says “and Viktor at yours. Procurer of fine artifacts, rare books and blood, Viktor replies with a wicked smile and outthrust hand.

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post #5 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-18-12, 04:09 PM
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Alexander muttered under his breath as he stalked the dungeons.
“Maybe it’s just completely random. No that can’t be it. These high-born lady’s have to have their reasons. Maybe it’s just a nice colour. No, again with the reason. It has to mean something! It's so infuriating when this happens. I never know. Wait, i'm talking to myself again. I've got to stop doing this. Oh for god's sake, now i'm talking to myself abnout stopping talking to mmself. Shhhhhh!"

With that Alexander abruptly shut up and shook his head. As he looked around at the other Vampires present a strange smell caught his attention. He lifted his head and let the scent lead him to an abandoned cell where three fresh human corpses on the floor. The manic glint in Alexander's eyes quickly dissapeared to be replaced with an entirly more scary one, a look of bloodthirst. Alexander fell on the first corpse. With a slash of his claws the throat was slashed and Alexander drank quickly from the crimson tide flowing out of the body. The second was finished in fairly the same manner but Alexander paused on the third. With a flash Alexander punched through the corpse's chest and with a floiurish withdrew the dripping heart. He then proceeded to wolf the heart down as a whole. When the bloodthirst was satasfied the manic glint returned to Alexander's eyes. He turned back and walked down the corridors again. Muttering something about frogs....

The Silent Lions Chapter

Winter Falls


Give a man a match and he will be warm for a day.
Set a man on fire and he will be warm for the rest of his life.
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post #6 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-19-12, 02:35 AM
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His eyes darted back and forth across the vast Great Hall where a number of other vampires had gathered. His cold eyes took them in quickly, each of them imposing in their own way. Though his attention continued to return to the woman, little more than a girl in his eyes, at the center of the Hall. She moved with fludity and grace as she struck down vampire after vampire around her, her swings excellence, her form far more precise than the fledglings wish attempted to prove themselves her equal. He had fought many foes in his long-existance some more terrifying than her, others far more intimidating. She carried herself with neither the bluntness of intimidation nor the stench of a terrifying presence. Her's was something far more subtle far more lethal.

His memories where not what they used to be as time had slowly erroded most of them. The only one he could ever remember with stark clarity was that night within the Chapel of Ulric -- where Krale changed him. He could still smell the sweet scent of sage candles burning slowly upon the altar. He never quite understood why followers of a Warrior-God would need such decadent things, but of coarse he knew it was to mask Krale's stench. The old man's seeming fragile state was obvious a ruse to make him lower his guard. His blood began to boil within his veins despite the frost which he felt in his long-silent heart. He knew what the feel was and try as he might he knew he could not control it for long. He hated what he was ... he despised himself for being so weak in the face of such a blatant monster.

His eyes moved slowly across the Great Hall again, this time they sought targets -- something to unleash his disgust upon. Across from him was another vampire, he'd never met him before obviously, and he seemed to be the exact opposite of him. Where his blonde hair cascaded across his black armor, this warrior held a darker hue of hair and brighter armor. Despite the growing disgust inside he could not help but find humor in the coincidence that they should stand opposite one another. He checked this warrior's weak-points from across the Hall. Gaps in his armor or perhaps a forging discontinuity thart could be exploited. Of coarse he fought neither they could not be easily defended.

He felt his rage begin to cool slowly but still it lingered. He knew how this went and he understood the risks that came with coming here in the first place. He hated his kind and wanted nothing more than drive Bloodmourne through each of their hearts. His attention was caught against by the young vampiress who'd smited the fledglings as she spoke with Mordred's wife, Elizabeth. Elizabeth stood up and began to walk down the hall with his hand maidens in tow.

He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning on and began to make his way towards the center of the Great Hall -- eyeing Natasha with a warrior's glare. What was the point of this Blood Crusade? For him it was to become the perfect weapon, to be the principle blade to be used by this potential patron, this Mordred von Drakenblood. He knew everyone here was playing a lethal game. Everyone had an ulterior motive for everything they did. What else could a damn vampire do with his immortality but plot for all time against everything around him. Attempting to control and manipulate came easy to him and to all his kind.

He paid no attention to the fledglings as they lay prone on the ground as he walked to the center of the Hall.

'Mi'lady,' he said to Natasha and gave a curt bow, as was becoming of one of noblility such as he. With that he drew forth Bloodmourne and felt the blade's weight in his hand -- its midnight texture seeming to eat the light around it. In a fluid motion and brought his shield around. It was one a proud enblem of his family. Their sigil had been a black raven's had, screaming towards the heavens, with a massive warhammer behind it, with a general background color of blue with white stripes running vertically across. Over the years he had made a few ... modifications to it. Its background was red, with the blood of his enemies. The raven's head had been replaced with a dragon's head, impaled upon a vicious, vampiric looking spear. He chuckled to himself once more at the fond memory of how he once thought his family crest was something to be proud of. After his ... Failing ... he slowly began to realize the uselessness of it all. Everyone in Bretonnia of noble-birth had a different sigil for their family and sometimes themselves ... it was truly silly when one thought about it.

Removing such unnecessary thoughts from his mind he spoke agian. 'You are far more skilled than your frame suggests. However, you test your metal against fledglings -- they are hardly more than children ...'

He allowed the comment to hang in the air for a moment, no doubt it would draw the attention of the others, 'Why not test it against something more befitting of your skill?'

The challenge lingered in the air. No doubt he had already caused some controversy with this ... oh well.

Originally Posted by Oldman78 View Post
The chaos gods abandoned Horus most likely because they saw the can of whoop ass coming their way and wanted out of the way so as not to get fucked up!
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post #7 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-19-12, 06:38 PM
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Ezekiel's eyes flickered over to one of the younger vampires as he approached, Ezekiel sensed his impatience, he could see in the way he sharpened his blade and in his agitatedly movements. He laughed inwardly at the youngster's desperation to be away from the quiet serenity of the castle. He recalled his own 'youth' as a vampire, he had spent many years enjoying his new abilities, his speed, his strength, all so invigorating and new!

But now, he was accustomed to his powers, so he had delved into learning new skills, he was now a swordsman without compare, he had studied the minds and bodies of humans, which was still a curiosity of his, he dabbled in poetry and he had also developed an interest in the histories of the human lands, he had learned about the different emperors and could recite the story of Sigmar's coming better than any man.

Currently though, he was drawn to the vast power of the artifacts in these lands, as well as the fascinating potential for understanding the knights of Brettonina, as he had had few chances to interrogate any kind of knight. They protected themselves well and were rare and difficult prizes.

The silence was broken by the vampire who was looking out of the window. “not one night and already there is unrest”, he said, chuckling and tearing Ezekiel away from his reflections.

He glanced at the vampire, then followed the course of his gaze out of the window, where a figure, obviously another vampire, stood alone, his face sour. The armour was the distinctive red and black of Modred's kin. The solitary vampire was not standing alongside his 'father' bringing Ezekiel to the conclusion that he would be, if his intelligence served him correctly, Khalidel, who bears some ill feelings towards Modred.

"Markus, at your service" Said the young vampire, bowing slightly.
Ezekiel's mouth slid into a slight smile and said smoothly, "Ezekiel, at yours." The younger vampire turned and repeated the gesture to the other of his younger kin, who called himself Viktor. "Procurer of fine artifacts, rare books and blood".

Ezekiel smiled at his confidence and was intruiged by his aclaimed trade, this one could be a useful ally he thought, he would have to ask Modred about the child's abilities. The other seemed to have potential as a fine warrior, the two were still young, they had eternity to hone their skills. He would watch them both carefully during his time on this 'Crusade'.

With that thought he swept from the library, his footsteps silent and careful. He ventured upstairs, leaving through a door to the southern ramparts of the castle. He looked out over the landscape, lit only by the silvery moons. Staring over the area, Ezekiel took in every detail, spotting each creature as it scurried across the grass or through the trees, all believing that they were invisible in the night.

Ezekiel stood motionless for a few more moments, before tiring of the scene before him. He left and ventured further down into the depths of the castle, following the place where the sounds of clashing blades had been heard from the library. Using his enhanced hearing and knowledge of blades, Ezekiel discerned that the combat had been between at least four blades to one. Whatever swordsman was fighting, they could be worth Ezekiel's interests at some point.

In another part of the castle, he heard screams of terror, he smelt fear and desperation, but they were faint. The sounds and smells must have originated from deep within the bowels of the castle, Ezekiel had little interest in venturing there at the current time.

He decided eventually to simply wander the castle, perhaps encountering another guest in the place. He would like to speak to Modred, but knew that his patron was one of the few vampires stronger than himself and dared not visit him without request. He contented himself with wandering the castle corridors, his eyes and ears searching for new things to learn.

Last edited by HOGGLORD; 06-19-12 at 06:40 PM.
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post #8 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-19-12, 08:24 PM
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“Ezekiel at yours,” replied the elder of the two vampires in the room, offering nothing more to the conversation. ‘Clearly he’s a bit above himself,’ Markus growled inside his own head. After bowing slightly to the other vampire, who replied with, “and Viktor at yours. Procurer of fine artifacts, rare books and blood,” Markus nodded his head slightly, a look of slight vexation flashing across his features, for but a second. He’d hoped for at least a surname. Sighing, he didn’t register Ezekiel remove himself from the room, without a word, for about a minute, at which point Markus felt he should do the same; the skin on his back was starting to crawl irritably, begging him to give in and release it’s form.

“Viktor, I hope we have time to talk later,” he said to the room’s other occupant, before once again bowing slightly and taking his leave, striding out of the library with an air of determination. Even walking helped him to shed the air of anticipation and the restlessness that plagued the young von Carstein, and he wandered aimlessly through the seemingly endless corridors of Mordred’s bastion. After following the maze of galleries that made up the castle, Markus found himself in the Great Hall, his eyes instantly drawn to the female vampire in the centre, surrounded by young, sprawling fledglings. Just as he entered, another male vampire approached her, and began a conversation. His unnatural hearing allowing him to hear every word that was said, he smirked slightly, shaking his head. A sharp pain ran along his left arm and he gasped, almost inaudibly, although he knew all of those present could probably hear it. Cursing himself, and muttering under his breath, the vampire shifted the shield on his arm, trying to do something with it to stop the pain flaring up again. Hurriedly, he left the hall and tried to find his way outside. After twenty minutes more, the von Carstein was outside, on the northern ramparts, overlooking the mountains.

Deciding he had no real choice, Markus pulled off the leather tongs that held the strips of mail, which made up the arms of his chain-mail shirt, allowing them to fall loose over his morphing arms, slinging his shield over his back so he didn’t lose it.The skin bubbled, horrifically so, and then the skin began to run, bones breaking and reforming, to form huge, membranous wings. Extending them fully, he had a massive wingspan of six metres. His face also changed, becoming more bestial, fangs extending and ears altering, becoming bat-like. A snarl forced it’s way up his throat, forcing him to twist his head unintentionally, and he then roared, putting all of his bestial hate into it. He put a foot upon the rampart, looking down at the earth beneath him, and then cast himself off, wings tucked close to his body, falling like a rock, until he forced his wings out. He gently came out of his fall, lightly skimming the ground and then rising until he was looking down upon the vampires upon the Eastern ramparts. Recognising the red and black armour of Mordred, and noting the fact that his gets were with him, he made a quick decision - they must have realised he was there, and he didn’t want to appear ignorant to his new liege, so he swooped down to the ramparts, landing on his feet, and strode confidently to the group before him. Wings crossed before him, like those of a bat, he bowed slightly, and forced his bestial mouth to form the language of men - “My Lord, Markus von Carstein, at your service. I shall serve as your whim dictates until our ways part!” Part of him hated the bowing and scraping, yet another, more rational part of his mind knew it was probably the right thing to do. The malevolence that radiated from the red eyes of his new lord, and the sheer reek of dead flesh and power that surrounded the von Drakenblood gets was astounding, and he did find himself wondering if it really was the wisest choice to speak directly to his lord so soon.

Malochai von Carstein; Terror of Hunger Wood, Lord of Lichenhof Tower

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Darkness - Traditional: Glaïmbar Bokkadsson
Age of Dragons: Endras Amlugon
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post #9 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-20-12, 03:17 PM
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As Viktor and the other two introduced themselves, Viktor noticed feint interest on Ezekiel’s face. Whenever he tells an older vampire of his abilities to acquire goods, they always seem intrigued. That is the gift with age Viktor thought to himself, knowing when someone can be of use. Viktor knew that Ezekiel would approach him at some point. The old devil played it well however, not jumping into the conversation or showing great interest, very well played indeed.

Markus on the other hand seemed uninterested at all, almost upset. As though he were expecting something else.

As quick as the conversation started it had ended, with both abruptly leaving the room. Viktor was perplexed. What had happened? Had Modred summoned the two? Viktor went back to the window to see if the sullen faced Khalidel was still there pouting. He had not been summoned. Viktor had seen the rip in the family ties last time Modred had enlisted his services, but business took him away as soon as the transaction was complete. An insider to the Von Drakenblood’s with no thought of loyalty could be of use, Viktor thought. Knowledge is always useful.

Viktor turned and made his way to the Eastern Rampart of the castle with a devilish smile on his face, remembering were the rarest and most expensive books were at, just in case something happened. Viktor was not coming out of this “Crusade” empty handed.
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post #10 of 52 (permalink) Old 06-22-12, 03:00 PM
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Nuso sits on a stone bench with dire wolves by her side wacthing a fight between a fellow Lahmian and a few young Blood Dragons who quickly end up on the floor. Losing interest quickly Nuso glances around the nearly empty hall eyes moving from another couple of Blood Dragons who are opposites in every physical sense of the word. Disregarding them for now she turns to look at the Queen of the castle, Elizabeth has seated herself in Mordred's black throne. Though she had the notion that had any other attempted that they would quickly find themselves shorter by a head. Covering her mouth with the back of her left hand Nuso yawns politely wondering why Elizabeth has taken such a motherly concern for her. Though why exactly that is is a mystery to her though she suspects that it is because they are both descended from the Great Queen Neferata and Elizabeth is protectoive of fellow Lahmians.

Pushing herself off the bench Nuso pats the dire wolf on its head and smiling at it before approaching Elizabeth and her get Natasha. Noticing the Knight with blond hair moving towards the same area Nuso slowed her pace to see what would happen in the coming moments. Though as she slowed her pace Elizabeth moved off the throne and dissappears down a side passage with her handmaidens leaving her alone with Natasha and the knight. Though if he is indeed from Abhorash's bloodline he would challenge her to a duel to satisfy his silly honor at the insult to his bloodline. Coming up on the pair Nuso is not disappointed as he challenges her to a duel.

"Really that would be ever so delightfull! Though of course you would have to do so in no armour so as to make it a fair contest as she is wearing a dress mind you. Of course this is all up to you dear cousin. Nuso says as she reaches htem looking up with innocence in her eyes and face while thinking Now if she goes against him I'll have a better idea of her actual skill as well as his. This actually could be interesting and most infomative.

"Loyalty is its own reward."
Lion El'Jonson.
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