Converted Warehouse - Shadow's End(#3589RAJh)

Track lighting along the 30 foot skylighted ceiling in this spacious complex accents the smaller sconces along the walls every 10 feet or so, keeping the entire area adequately lit, even while allowing shadows to play in odd areas during the night. Over all, the entire effect is dark and post-modern in places, warm and inviting in others. On one side of the lower floor, a spiral staircase leads up to a mezzanine that stretches along one entire side of the place. Two suites with separate baths can be found there, nearly a perfect match to the two downstairs. One of the downstairs suites is larger than the rest, though all of them seem excellently appointed. The end of the apartment nearest the entrance contains a large rec room with a comfortable-looking sofa, several leather recliners and a high-end entertainment system. The other end of the apartment contains an impressive workout room, complete with free weights, and other assorted fitness equipment. The center of the lower floor contains an open kitchen area. A sprawling, dark-grey counter surrounds a set of expensive-looking burnished appliances. Charcoal grey carpeting covers the floor and huge, vertical blinds hang near the workout area, covering windows that stretch halfway to the ceiling and overlook the river.

Contents:
Alicia
Jarred
Lucas
Obvious exits:
Elevator

The Shadow Lord elder is standing, hands clasped behind his back as he gazes out one of the large windows of Shadow's End into the dark waters of the river. He waits for his cubs to present themselves.

Lucas is the first down the stairs, looking more like he's going for a casual job interview than a test he could very well not come back from. His hair looks freshly cut and his black jeans, tho' baggy, are cleaned. Beyond that he wears a plain dark red t-shirt and black boots. The Ahroun isn't looking nervous at all, relaxed and ready to go, with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

Kenneth emerges from his room not too long afterwards, looking much more cleaned up than he has been in the past couple of weeks. His white shirt is left partly loose at the collar, matched with rather carefully ironed pants and uniform-like wear. For the moment, he remains at the top of the stairs and waits with a cold, shadowed impatience.

Jarred turns at the sounds behind him. His face is stony and impassive. His stark black suit cuts him a dramatic figure as he gestures toward the thick glass-top table before him. Upon it, a manila envelope rests, sealed with a blot of red wax. He glances up to where Kenneth stands and smiles. It's not a very pleasant smile, but... oh well. "Come down here."

Lucas glances towards the table and moves over to collect up the envelope. Pausing, he looks up to Kenneth, seemingly also waiting for him to descend the stairs.

Kenneth does as summoned, descending the stairs without a word, without a nod. Once he reaches the table and stands beside Lucas, the philodox spares the manila envelope a long look, particularly at the red wax seal.

The Elder rubs his chin thoughtfully as the two approach him. At length, he folds his arms across his chest and regards the cubs with the keen scrutiny for which he has become well known. "This evening you will undertake your Rite of Passage. I have a special mission for you both, but you will need each other desperately in order to succeed. Tonight you will either gain your tribe an ally or an enemy. You will travel to the place listed on the paper within that envelope. You will speak to representatives of the creature whose dossier you will also find there. You may even get to speak with it personally."

Lucas nods his head just once to indicate that he understands before cracking the red seal in two and opening the envelope to read over the address. Once he's read it, the ahroun passes the package over to the philodox wordlessly.

Kenneth takes the envelope and the paper extracted, but he also looks inside of the manila jacket just in case there was something the ahroun had missed. Perusing the dossier, he reads over it all rather carefully, making sure to remember it at least in short term memory. "Representatives of the 'creature'? Just what is it we're talking about here?"

Jarred continues. "The creature you will approach is one of the Kindred. He is a vampire. I have spoken to you in the past off their kind. The vast majority of garou feel that vampires are of the Wyrm. That may or may not be true. What IS true is that we have almost universally been dire enemies. However, I have laid the ground work for this meeting. It is possible that the Shadow Lords have something to offer the Kindred. Protection. The vampires are adept at fighting amongst themselves, much as we are. Do not be fooled by what you hear from him tonight. He would not have agreed to the meeting if he were not at least curious about the idea of an alliance with the Shadow Lords."

Lucas once more, mostly patient, indicates his understanding. "I'm assuming this will probably be a one night deal, then? We have a time frame to work in, or just until a decision is reached?"

Kenneth grits his teeth silently, eyes kept on the dossier. "What sort of protection is being offered?"

Jarred says "You have this evening only. The stage has been set. It will be up to you to convince him that our offer is both genuine and heartfelt... neither of which it actually is, of course, but that is neither here nor there." He turns to Kenneth. "Physical protection, and a mutual pact of non-aggression. This vampire would have the right to call upon us to defend his life, such as it is. We would be likewise entitled to call upon those he controls for assistance should that ever be needed. The real value of this arrangement, however, is that it will give the Shadow Lords a valuable advantage in the affairs of the city. Vampires are powerful in urban settings, particularly economically and politically. While we have some influence in those arenas, we could benefit from this man's influence in the underworld. This has traditionally been the purview of the Glasswalkers."

The elder's words bring the faintest glimmer to the ahroun's eyes, and he says, "Well, I don't have any other questions, I just want to get going. Shouldn't keep them waiting if they're expecting us."

Kenneth views the report one last time and then slips it back into the envelope. "Just one last question. If things go wrong?" He raises an eyebrow to accompany it, though with the expression that he already knows the answer to it.

Jarred shrugs. "If things go wrong, then you depart. Any way you can. Do not let yourselves be captured. The results could be most... unpleasant." He looks up for a moment. "Now, I have heard both of you speak. Neither of you are what I would call talented wordsmiths. Vampires are masters of twising your words against you and taunting you. Do not let that happen. Concentrate on what you have to offer. That is all I can say to advise you." He turns back to the window. "Go now, and I wish you success. By this time tomorrow, I am confident you will both be Cliath."

"Thank you, Jarred-Rhya." Lucas says in a rather ambiguous tone, seeming to encompass more than just for the information. Then, turning to Kenneth, the ahroun gives the halfmoon's shoulder a light punch then turns for the elevator to set off on the test.

Kenneth rolls with the punch with a bare shift of his weight, but doesn't retaliate. With not a word of good bye, the philodox follows after. Before he enters the elevator however, he leaves the manila envelope at the end of the table, and joins the ahroun on the way down. On the short ride down, he merely states, "It's not a full moon out tonight."

Indeed, its not a full moon, but close enough so that the pair of Garou, especially one of them, feel the tug of Luna's anger beneath their skin. The walk is long as they head south towards the Wharf district near Bridge Street. As the blocks go by, anyone who is perceptive enough would notice that little by little, street lights appear to have been broken and smashed, giving very little light to the run down buildings that are tucked away neatly on the sidewalk. Most of the sidewalks and walls are littered with grafitti, revealing various gang like symbols and words, boasting about territory and other such wild claims. This is the part of town that even the police fear to tread and most calls get unanswered.

Lucas walks with what would appear to be a casual pace, seeming relaxed even in the increasingly distressed neighborhood. Afterall, this is his turf, or was before the onset of the whole Garou thing. He's far from blind, he knows what to look for in regards to threats and does so, but he takes the implied violence all in stride. However, he hasn't done any talking since they left.

Kenneth lets Lucas lead the way while they enter the less than friendly neighborhood of Mr. Rogers' "friends". Keeping quiet as a shadow, walking just flanked to the ahroun, he glances back a couple of times, or up at the signs to note where they are - if they're left at all. Once they reach the noted area, he pulls up beside the ahroun. "A'right. We got a plan?"

As they walk and the last street light falls victem to violence, they find themselves shrounded in darkness, a pitch that is almost eerie. They can hear the rush of traffic behind them, mixed with loud horns. There is music playing somewhere near by, a heavy bass Rap track, thumping away from one of the buildings deep within. Both of you get the feeling you may be being watched, or followed, but any glancing about doesn't reveal anyone, or anything.

"Do what we came to do." Lucas replies to Kenneth with the hint of a frown. Anything else he might have said isn't as he puts his nose to the wind with narrowed eyes. Not that his homid bulb can pick up anything beyond cheap beer and the perfume of cheaper whores, but the reflexive action is there.

Kenneth squints when the lights go out, checking over his shoulder at his own shadows. He then looks up at the appointed meeting place and scratches a finger along his chin in an attempt to hold his patience steady. "Right. Well, this is it."

The streets are trashed with litter of all kinds, newspapers, broken glass and plastic bottles. Most of the windows in what used to be shops are shattered and boarded up as best as they can be. The smell of the air is acrid, a lot thicker than out in the wilder parts in the woods. As the pair stand around, they can hear footsteps coming towards them, but yet, no one can still be seen.

Lucas seems to come to the conclusion where he is standing is just fine and passes the philodox a look before turning his eyes back to coasting up and down the street, settling a few times in the rough direction of the sound.

Kenneth doesn't look, but rather listens for the footsteps. "Halloween's over man," he says aloud plainly.

Not just one, but now quite a couple set of footsteps can be heard approaching, this time from all sides, as if the two were being surrounded. Is it a bit darker? Possibly. It sure feels that way. The buildings start to fade away from view, slowly becoming just dark blotches in the distance, despite being about fifteen feet away from the sidewalk.

"Hrr." Comes the nearly inaudible noise from Lucas as he slowly follows the different directions of footsteps. Well, he didn't get his cub name by running when the lights went out, and he's not now, but that doesn't stop the hair on the back of his neck from going up.

"I got your back," Kenneth mutters to his fellow cub as a reassurance of support, a growl wanting to creep up his throat. Trying to distinguish just how many pairs of footsteps there are, he has a good look around through the darkness. Left hand curling into a fist at his side in reflex, the philodox makes himself relax and at the same time, nudges the ahroun to indicate they should move to a less open area.

"Ey' muchacho.. look at dis." Comes a voice from the right, one that echos slowly towards the left, as if something was rounding you just near by. "Looks like a pair of puppies got lost in deh' big scary city." There is a soft round of laughter, from what appears to be about four other voices. "Whatcha want kiddies? Looking fo'ah fire hydrant to piss on?" A face appears, one that wears a pair of thin sun glasses over his nose, despite the darkness. One by one, forms can be seen literally melting out into view, flesh a bit paler than the norm, all of them dressed up in gang banger clothing. They appear young, at least three of them teens.

"Nah, I've afraid my mother taught me well to go before I left the house." Lucas says with a cordial smile to the one sporting the sunglasses. "Besides, I'd hate to delay this meeting anymore."

Kenneth perhaps looks the most out of place at this point, but he doesn't seem to mind. "Lookin' for Andy," he says without flourish, staring in the direction of the first speaker, eyes as cold as the flesh on the other's skin. "Got a deal to make."

"Yo, Ese', yo' momma taught me a few things last night too! Ahroo!" Comes one of the voices, a young latino looking boy grabbing his crotch, making a forward thrusting manner. Another voice, more bolder, that belongs to a tall looking black man, steps forward and says in a slow, yet smooth voice. "Got a deal, huh? Ya'll on our turf. Maybe you just need to nod yer' head and just 'agree' to our terms." His lips curl slightly to reveal bright white teeth. "Follow us an don't you dare make a funny move, or we'll kill you." That isn't a threat, its a cruel reality. The pair are far away from their Elder tonight. With that, they start moving off, all save two, who stick around behind you, to make sure you don't run, or strike them from behind.

Lucas certainly isn't making any moves so far and follows along without incident on his part. Afterall, can't go pissing on someone else's hydrant, can you? That's just not polite. So, quite with his face a decided turn for the neutral, the ahroun just walks.

Kenneth barricades a smirk from his lips, not nodding or agreeing to anything just yet save for following along. Once they start to move, he does take a quick look over his shoulder, if only to recount how many of the Other there are. Fortunately (or unfortunately), this sort of intimidation of death has never really worked on him.

Only two of them carry weapons. One of them seems to be swinging some sort of chain around in his hands, while the other has a baseball bat with about six nails droven through it. As they walk further and further into the wharf district, you get led into what appears to be a vacant warehouse. Down, down, down you go, into the dark recesses of the basement, where only a single flickering yellow light can be seen. There is about six more people down there, taking the count to eleven. Sitting in a chair, much like a throne that is beat up and battered, is a large white man, well muscled in the upper body, sporting a buzz cut and a pair of torn at the knees jeans and a wife beater. He stares at the pair, his blood red lips curling back slowly as his tongue swipes what appears to be a stain at the edge of his mouth. "Welcome to our humble abode." He says with a feral grin. "So, Jarred sent you two huh? I am Andy Webber of Clan Brujah, soon to be prince of this shit hole if I can have my way."

Lucas dips his head in a brief not to the proclaimed Andy, "My name is Lucas and this is Kenneth. Jarred sent us to see if we could work out a deal between us."

Kenneth adds in, casting a quick glance about at the number of bodyguards Andy has, "Is all this... really necessary?" The motions with short turn of his head this way and that at the number.

"You scared or something?" Andy asks Kenneth pointedly as he crosses his thick arms over his chest. His eyes narrow, watching him for a moment, then snorts. "Ya'know, yer wasting my time." He snaps his fingers towards two larger looking guys. "Just kill them and get 'em outta here. I don't have the patience tonight to deal with children. Send a message back to Jarred.. let me think.." He trails off, clicking his tongue against his sharp pointed teeth. ".. Hmm.. send.. him.. their eyes. Except, step on them when you gouge 'em out. He fucked up great by sending these kids."

"Are we?" Lucas asks in reference to the wasting of time. "Seems more a waste of time to escort us all the way here and then not even hear what we have to say. We can go places your boys can't, Andy. Believe me, hurt us, and you'll have a lot more on your hands than two kids. We're here to offer you a way to avoid such encounters."

"No," Kenneth replies blandly, a hint of the night's influence on his Rage creeping into his tone. "I ain't scared. I just don't want them to have to clean up your guts from the furniture if we decide this is a waste of OUR time." The philodox's demeanor draws tight like a stretched rubber band. He sends glares of challenge at the two guys indicated, his irritation replacing what sense of fear there was in him. "But we're not here to talk about killing. We're here to talk about protection. And if you ally with us, you will have a clear path to your princehood. If not, /we/ can clear that path for you."

A sharp laugh escapes his throat at the sound of Lucas's words, then another lounger one at Kenneths. "OH! Oh.. you two are comedians. I can see why Jarred sent you. You two are going to kill me with laughter. If only I breathed.. it'd may be possible." He says, his face suddenly seizing up and with a blur of motion that would rival the rage of a Garou, he is in Kenneth's face, clear across the room, towering over him as the shadows seem to pull a bit closer. "Don't think for a moment that you could even lift a silly little claw, boy, because you'd be dead before the first hair on your mutt bodies would sprout." There is a glint of light from between his hands, then what can only be sensed deep in your gut, a sickening feeling. Silver. He flicks his wrist, revealing the sharp blade, hissing in a whispered breath. "I'd carve you like a jack 'o' latern ya'lil shit. You are here for one reason only, to provide necessary muscle against those who oppose me, so that I don't have to get my own hands dirty. I don't /need/ your protection, but lets be honest.. having a pack of dogs fighting my fight will scare my opponents a lot more than my own thugs." He sneers, running the blade tip along his finger, opening it up, just so that it can seal shut a moment later.

Lucas feels every hair go on end and there's a noticable clenching of his teeth so that he forces back a snarl with a deal of effort, and the hint of redness burns at the edge of his vision. "You call on us to remove your problems, we get rid of them quick and clean. If you doubt our abilities as fighters, perhaps one of your boys would agree to a little demonstration?"

Kenneth grits his teeth, stiffening at the flickering silver edge as he holds himself very still as he faces the vampire prince, letting him consider the ahroun's suggestion.

Giving Kenneth a hungry look, Andy leans in dangerously close, sniffing the air, almost smelling the potent blood beneath his flesh. "A demonstration?" He asks with a loud rumble in his throat, then jerks his head back, sheathing the knife, tossing it to one of the larger black fellows near the back. He catches it with an expert ease and flips it around end over end, releasing the glint of silver. Andy then shoves Kenneth forward with a smirk, then starts making his way back to his 'throne', flopping down into it heavily, staring. "An alliance is only as strong as its weakest link." He says, shooting a challenging look towards Lucas.

Lucas just shows the tips of his teeth in a grin towards Andy as Kenneth is shoved forward. "A herd can survive without the weakest member. Infact, it thrives all the more for it."

"And with a litter of dogs, the runt tends to get the shit end of the stick." Andy says with an amused grin over towards Lucas.

Ouch, that was a blow to his pride, but an addition to the pent up Rage boiling just underneath his skin. But it feels like Kenneth had just wanted to tear something apart, even more than Lucas on a full moon - and what an opportunity. The philodox puts a foot forward to catch himself. No, he doesn't even need a 'go' before he's blurred up to his night-black warform, fur bursting out of him, and targeted on the leech with the silver knife. In less than a blink of an eye the crinos is lunging towards him with claws and jaws flashing in the dimly lit room.

As the Crinos lumbers forward and nearly hits his head on the wall and blur forward, it seems that Edewalker stumbles for a moment in pause, which is all that it takes for the ghoul to prepare. As he speeds forward, the black man seems to 'bulk up' suddenly and move in a speed just as fast. The Shadow Lord's claws find the shoulder of the ghoul which nearly wrenches it out of its socket, while his knife, slam forward quick hard into the upper chest of the werewolf, sinking it deep with a pain that burns like the hottest fire.

Lucas keeps his attentions on the Brujah leader, despite the battle he'd probably love to watch. "We aren't dogs. No dog would have come all the way here to makes deals. We're wolves, wolves who can help you become prince if we decide it's worth the effort. I'm getting sick of dancing, Andy."

The Brujah leader continues to sit in his chair, eyes paying close attention to the brawl in his basement. He doesn't bother to answer Lucas or even spare him a look.

Edgewalker snarls with a reverberating sense of pain like none other. A pain that causes him almost to lose his mind to the Rage that surges up from within. Pushing away the pain, harnessing that primal anger from deep within, the halfmoon cub explodes into a flurry of action, both sets of claws closing in like a vice to grab the ghoul while in close proximity and simply tear off his head.

Moving quickly in a blur, the large ghoul seems to have a speedy edge on the Crinos who roars in pain. WHAM! Once more the knife sinks low into the stomach of the creature, giving him a cruel, final grin. Edgewalker hits the ground hard, blood gushing out of his torn stomach, his guts sizzling in what appears to be burning flesh. A moment goes by, and the black man gives a proud grin, that is, until the eyes of the Lord snap back open. Gaia must be blowing kisses, because he literally comes back to life, leaps upon the creature and in a burst of psychotic rage, he starts to rip his head off and shred his upperbody into pieces.

Lucas just grins wider and looks aside to Andy. "We're just the cubs, Andy. Agree, and our elders are willing to watch your back and do far, far worse to anyone looking to stick a knife in it."

Depite the victory and the shredded pile of ghoul on the ground, Edgewalker isn't going to stop bleeding anytime soon, and in fact, now that the adrenaline rush is over with, he starts to feel weird, odd, something is missing. His sheathe has been gored off by the last swipe of the knife and laying off to the side. Blood is thick in the air.

Andy leans forward a bit and looks over at Edgewalker, then the mutilated body of the Ghoul, clearing his throat a bit, even though he doesn't need to. Turning his eyes upon Lucas, he strokes his chin a bit thoughtfully. "How can I be convinced that your clan of wolves won't try and kill us later. Its /obvious/ now what kind of power you possess. That doesn't make me feel better in thinking I can trust you forever."

"Why kill someone who can be just as useful of an ally?" Lucas says to the Brujah. "The Shadows Lords offer a deal of mutual benefit. Agree, and you can call upon us to protect your life and your interests. We will expect likewise and, as long as your people uphold your end of the deal, we will uphold ours as will those who come after us. Betray us, and we will bring more down on your head than a single pair of claws. Honor the deal, and we will swear our loyalty to it."

Edgewalker drops down to his knees once the haze of his battle is over... but as he takes stock of what remains of him, there is an undoubtedly incoherent whine of disbelief. The halfmoon doesn't shift back to his birthform, but instead, his eyes turn upon the vampire prince. Eyes that nearly quite literally scream bloody murder.

The Brujah looks calm as a cucumber as he stares at the Ahroun, feeling Ken's eyes upon him. The faithful ghouls that circle the room seem to grow a bit closer, on edge, hissing lightly. They look ready to jump right in after the pair if they decide to make another move. Rubbing his chin, Andy mulls the words over by the warrior, then grunts. "Your threats do not scare me. Be lucky I know how to filter out the bullshit and get down to the root of it. Thats fine. You scratch our back, we scratch yours. In return, you betray us, I will personally turn your own people against you." He says. "I'm sure your 'other' beloved Elders would love to know you are collaberating with the undead in a unity pact." He hisses, eyes narrowing just a bit. "You have our support, loosley.. now get your friend out of here. He's bleeding on my good concrete." Snapping his fingers at another of his companions, he points to the destroyed body of the ghoul on the ground, motioning him to 'clean up.'

Edgewalker rumbles out in what is all too coherent a Garou curse at the vampire. ~I'll Kill You,~ he vows in the feral lupine snarl, rising back up to his full height despite the... injuries. Shifting down then to the near man, the halfmoon glares all around at the other ghouls before forcing himself to hobble towards the ahroun.

"Then we have a deal." Lucas nods his head to Andy and shifts his eyes to the halfmoon and fixes his eyes on his, standing up straighter when he stood over Kenneth with the full pose of an Alpha. The posture's easy for the other Garou to read: Don't you dare. With a jerk of his head, he passes by the philodox to head out the way they came.

The vampire stands and makes his way off down a corridor in the basement, allowing his underlins to escort the pair of Garou out and once more lead them in a maze like manner through the buildings. Kenneth is having a hell of a time walking and is 'barely' on his feet.

Kenneth, in all his bloody glory (and lack of dignity), lowers his eyes for the briefest of moments at the ahroun's posture. Nevertheless, as he follows on his way out after Lucas, the halfmoon spares one final sneer of his lip as he lumbers awkwardly after. No, he's not happy, despite the victory.

Lucas walks ahead of Kenneth but doesn't make a move to even give him support walking. The ahroun just moves along with his undead escorts, more than ready to see the door out.

Kenneth on the other hand, unwittingly makes a complete and utter mess everywhere, until eventually he forgoes trying to walk on two legs, and shifts instead to four. The black wolf limps along, dripping from his matting fur.