Act I: Mercy For None

OOC: I agree.

Vlad heard the words from his childhood friend just before he saw the Alpha Male lunge toward him, claws bared in deadly poise. Grunting, Vlad jumped sidelong and slid on the floor away from the terrifying claws. His SKS wouldn't be very useful in this fight, he deemed, so he resorted to take out his shoulder-strapped PPSh-41. Checking to make sure his drum-magazine was fully loaded, he held it out before him. Shouting like a mad-man at the Alpha Male, he stomped a booted foot against the ground.

"Aye you little bastard! If you couldn't get me with that lunge, what the hell makes you think you can kill me!?"

The beasts answer was obvious as its back arched and it prepared for another lunge. Vlad gritted his teeth and aimed down his iron-sites.

"That's right... come have a taste of some Russian meat." Vlad scoffed under his breath, though loud enough for Ivan to hear.

Ivan, seeing the beast closing in on Vlad, momentarily panicked for the slightest second -- Until he saw a great opportunity standing right in front of him. The beast had pushed Ivan and Vlad apart, and standing directly between the two, compelled towards Vlad by his taunts, directly exposed his back to Ivan.

Silently, standing unnoticed in middle of the storm, unnoticed by the beast, Vlad or any other hunters, Ivan quickly and methodically removed all clothing (fur hat, loose polar-fleece and military boots) short for his pants and belt, shoved them hastily into his backpack, flipped his rifle and other loose ends into his backpack, and deattaching the claw gauntlets from his back, pushed his arms through and equipped the oversized weapons -- Not suitable for human use, in any situation. Done within a few seconds, the beast continued its approach towards Vlad.

Ivan was ready. He'd done this many times before, thus, no longer reacted to the change with pain or sound; Summoning the curse within -- summoning the blood passed onto him from his father -- He began to change quickly. Firstly, bones snapped, rearranging themselves; From there, muscle-mass drastically increased; Fur began to sprout out and his entire frame began to take on an entirely new appearance. Within a second or two, behind the alpha male, stood the White Wolf of Kamchatka.

The alpha male prepared to take another lunge at Vlad. Ivan launched himself forward with full strength, crashing into the alpha male with immense force and pushing the pair of them forward, directly passed Vlad and smashing into a nearby wall.

The two grappling, Ivan prepared and the alpha male caught by surprise, Ivan, using an unexpected but extremely effective combination of Russian Military Combat Training and Werewolf grappling, got himself behind the alpha male, and reaching his arms around the alpha male, pinned him in an upright lock.

The alpha male was strong, and struggled to get free -- But the White Wolf of Kamchatka was stronger.

Looking over the alpha male's shoulder towards Vlad, Ivan called out -- His voice, deep, hellish and gravelly; Almost a snarl, but not quite; Yet, still retaining its distinctive Saint Petersburg accent. "Vlad; I've got the bastard pinned!! Grab your gear; It's time to tear this puppy to shreds!"

Vlad had a feeling something like that would happen. He looked to the both of them grappling against the wall. It never ceased to amaze Vlad, the transformation his friend could go through. Shouldering his PPSh, he withdrew his Lancer one last time. Ripping the gas-cord, the chainsaw revved to life once again, its sound now synonymous with death-bringing. Pulling his second rigger, he could feel the slight recoil of the gun as the razor-barbed chains spun to life.

"Hold him tightly comrade! This should only take a second.." Vlad said.

At that, he gave a charge at the pinned Werewolf. Bringing back his Lancer as if it were a spear, he then thrust with all his might the chain into the beasts gut. A sickening noise emitted from the chainsaw as it ripped straight through the flesh then into organ and bone. Blackish blood splatted the floor in a growing pool. The entire time, Vlad was yelling, his eyes narrowed with hate for the undead bastards.

Seconds later, the mangled corpse of the Alpha Male lay on the ground before him. Stomping a boot into the ground, he spit at the body.

"Don't mess with us! Don't mess with the Motherland!" He yelled with rage.

Looking to the still transformed Ivan, he gave a grin and clapped him on the back. Waving a hand before him, he gave a morbid laugh.

"Look, comrade, the battle will be won that much easier."

Ivan, looking out over the battlefield that was the Cathedral - their former headquarters, gave a friendly yet ominous laugh - a laugh that, under the influence of his transformation, sounded more than particularly disturbing and evil comparative to his usual laugh. Nodding in agreement, he replied in-turn. "Indeed, it shall, comrade."

As Ivan stretched his claws -- clenching to a fist before flexing outwards once more, the acutely distinctive and blood curdling sound of steel sharply running over steel -- the metal of his gauntlets following his movements, could be heard.

Seeing their pack leader laying motionless in a pool of blood, almost all the Werewolves in the Cathedral instantly turned and froze at the sight of the pair standing side by side. A number of Vampires stared onwards with disbelief and surprise -- Not only had their favourite hound just been killed, but it had been killed by a Dark Symphony hunter and a Werewolf working together as a unified duo -- The Werewolf, one with alpha male pack leader qualities of which could both speak and remain in absolute full control of his transformation, as well as use weapons whilst transformed -- Feats which were by far, not normal for any Werewolf of any calibre. Ivan, noticing the extra attention the two had just garnered, narrowed his now ominously bright golden eyes and growled under his breath. "In the name of the Motherland, in the name of St Petersburg, in the name of the Dark Symphony and in the name of all their victims that received none in return.. I say we finish off this abominations once and for all, without remorse and without mercy."

A moment passed where all had hesitation in attacking the two, but the two undoubtedly knew this wouldn't last for long. A particularly strong, older looking vampire approached the two, cautiously. "Don't you think you're fighting on the wrong side, DOG? Why do you fight on the side of those that hunt your kin?!"

Ivan glared directly into the eyes of the vampire. "The sins of humanity are not my kin, are you, are an abomination. You are in no position to tell me who I should and shouldn't be fighting for. Though, I don't expect you or the likes of your kind to ever understand that."

OOC: I agree with Maiku's OOC post on the first page. Try not to GM. It makes the game so much better. I know it's very hard not to in a huge battle like this, but try to avoid being more powerful than you should be. Don't be afraid to take a few injuries, either! ;D

---

Both on the balconies and floor level, a brutal battle waged on, members of both factions viciously hewn into bits by their enemies. It was literally a bloodbath. Every member of the Dark Symphony was fighting their hardest. Ian was still on the front lines, hacking away at Vampires, Corpses, and Werewolves alike. Cuts were all over his body and blood seemed to stain almost all his clothes, though only a small amount was his blood.

As they were fighting, suddenly a loud roar was heard, one coming from an alpha male, obviously the pack leader. Almost everyone paused after the Werewolves looked up, dumbfounded, at the White Wolf. Ian, like most of the few people here, knew that Ivan was stained with the blood of a Werewolf, though he could control it. It was a well kept secret by a few people here, as the higher ups in the Dark Symphony would likely see that Ivan would be put to death for having such a curse. Nevertheless, Ian would never get used to such a horrifying transformation.

The White Wolf was confronted by a Vampire that seemed to be more of a veteran than the others. It was clearly feeling that Ivan was betraying them by fighting for the Dark Symphony. Ian stepped forward, pointing his sword at the Vampire.

"The Dark Symphony upholds all that is good and righteous," Ian said to the cursed creature. "While we wish balance, you seek destruction. That... is the sole reason that we must stop you. Certainly this isn't anything new to you, is it? Wicked monsters and beasts you are now... and that is what you always have to be. When a beast becomes too feral... It has to be put down. And that's exactly what we'll do this night."

The Vampire was furious at the words, as expected. No one, even a Vampire, liked it when they were made a fool of. With this newfound rage, the veteran bloodsucker raised his sword, screaming.

"We have no time to waste words on the likes of your kind!" he yelled. "Destroy this Citadel and slaughter everyone in it!"

The whole bunch of monsters in the front of the Cathedral, still entering the door, made a violent push, with renewed strength. Many of the Dark Symphony were being overwhelmed in this brutal push.

"Fall back, dammit!" Ian yelled, waving his sword as he ran back to the stairs that led to the balconies in the Cathedral. They would have some height advantage there, but the dark creatures were getting closer and closer to victory. There were many of them left, but no more were entering through the doorway, which meant their numbers were wearing thin. It appeared the effort they were putting forth was working after all. Ian ran onto the stairsteps, tearing his crossbow from his belt and quickly turning around to launch three bolts into the hearts of a few approaching Vampires Ian noticed Vlad and Ivan standing with each other, and backed up with them, still firing out into the crowd.

"You two made quite a show, I see," Ian said with a grin, looking down at the body of the destroyed alpha male Werewolf. "I've never seen a corpse you made this sickening, Vlad. I'm impressed."

The fight waged on, though most of it was now taking place on the stairs to the balconies. It was getting close, but the Dark Symphony was still pushing on. After he said these words, the crazed Vampire that approached them earlier charged forward, swinging his long-sword like a madman. Ian barely managed to jump back in time, receiving only a thin cut across his chest. Ian aimed his crossbow forward, but he was out of bolts, which he hadn't previously noticed. Ian looked over at Ivan.

"This fight is yours Ivan," he said to him. "This one looks stronger than the others, so don't underestimate him no matter what you do. I'm going to help fight off the main crowd."

Ian unsheathed his sword and jumped down the stairs, smashing into a group of monsters and knocking many down the stairs. He jumped back up and swung wildly, cutting the guts out of a walking corpse and lodging his sword into the face of a Werewolf, placing his boot on the beast's face and tearing it out with great effort, making a sickening noise of metal against bone. The strong Vampire above with Ivan and Vlad looked at the White Wolf with a hideous smile. He raised his sword and flashed forward at Ivan with surprising speed, hoping to gut him in one quick swipe.

Ivan had been keeping close watch on the elder Vampire as it lunged forward, well expecting such a thing to happen; Nonetheless, the speed of its attack was nothing short of truly impressive - Had he so much as blinked in that moment, yet alone diverted his attention for any reason, that lunge would've most definitely been the end of him, right there, right then. Swiping his sword with alarming speed, the Vampire targetted Ivan's midriff; Instinctively, reactantly, Ivan shifted his body weight and held his arm forward to block and parry the assault - an expected reaction that any hunter could of, and any Werewolf undoubtedly would of, done, in his particular situation; If not for the protection of his gauntlets - Alas, he'd expected he'd need them for such a situation in time - In that one swipe, he would've lost both the blocking arm and a signicant collective of innards. Metal upon metal as the sword stuck his gaunlets rang loudly, leaving a sharp scratch across the gaunlet of the blocking arm and partially chipping the edge of the Vampire's sword. Alas, that was to happen within the shortest of second, and before they or any other would've had a chance to register the origin of the sound, the Vampire had already swung his sword once more, targeting Ivan's now exposed chest. Again, Ivan blocked, scratching his other arm's gaunlet and further chipping the Vampire's sword. A third strike, and Ivan was forced to take a few steps back, partially to protect himself from the assault, partially to regain his balance, destabilised his the force of the sword against his weight.

A series of strikes - Reverse swipe to the groin; Stab to the chest; Upwards strike towards the head; In reverse, back towards the throat; Downwards strike against the legs - Accompanied by parries and blocked, proceeded over the course of less than a second or two, as the two engaged in close melee, protected within their own small zone of combat by simple way of no one else daring to near the pair.

One younger vampire, about equal height to Ivan, caught unaware of the fight behind him, found himself cut down as Ivan side-stepped and the swing of the elder vampire sliced straight through his skull.

The routine continued for several more seconds and Ivan found himself being slowly backed towards the corner of the upper level's walls. Paying dilligent attention to each strike and awaiting opportunity, on the Vampire's next swing, Ivan ducked and stepped forward in a single motion, and swinging his arm forward will the utmost haste, attempted to catch the butt of the sword in mid-swing - Success. Forming tight grip around the butt of the sword, Ivan swung his free arm, claws ready for strike, towards the vampire's head.

Pulling back, the vampire gave a full-hearted thrust-kick to Ivan's stomach - Ivan's swing missed, balance upset by his opponent's kick as it made direct contact to the sensitive muscle surrounding his liver, and he fell back, letting go of his grip.

Taking only the slightest second to recover, the vampire charged towards Ivan and stabbed forward as he stepped back, trying to regain his balance. Ivan, seeing no chance to parry, intentionally rolled backwards into wall, and making contact, launched himself upwards with full-force, connecting to the ceiling above, the vampire's sword tearing a gaping hole into the face of the wall where Ivan previously stood.

The rage could be seen on the faces of both, but neither had time to exchange words.

Jumping from the ceiling to an adjascent wall and bouncing off towards another with ease, Ivan reconnected with the stairwell leading to the balcony - Tough luck for another smaller werewolf hastily clambering up the stairwell as it targetted one of Ivan's comrades nearby, Ivan unintentionally slambing into the creature with full force and knocking it off the side, the creature giving an almighty yelp as a broken edge of furniture on the first floor pierced through its abdomin, motivated by the creature's own weight as it crashed down.

The elder vampire, in-turn, had already turned to face Ivan once more, his gaze following the White Wolf with equal intent. Ivan considered charging, but he knew full well that he may end up with a sword stuck through his body if he did no needlessly - He knew a good swordsman when he saw one, and his opponent was clearly no amateur.

Meanwhile, beyond the focus of the two, the battle for the Cathedral continued onwards.

The two slowly circled towards one another, each staring down the other with an intense hatred and murderous intent - Each looking for an ideal opening in the other's defense, each fully aware of the other's strength and neither carelessly daring to risk a mistake.

Vlad knew that he would only get in Ivan's way... his Kukri wouldn't be able to match against the longsword of the Vampire, and blocking would likely snap his own blade due to the monster's insane strength. Only equaling that strength would be able to counteract such a monster... and unfortunately he was but a mere human. Pounding a gloved fist to his chest, he gave Ivan the silent signal for good luck. Looking back down to the main floor of the Cathedral, he noticed they were being overrun quickly. In his moment of thought, he hardly noticed one of the veteran vampires closing in on him. His eyes bulged the moment he saw the figure mere feet away, and just as he jumped back, a flash of steel blocked his view.

Searing pain took over his body, sparks of all colors clouded his view. His eyes closed tightly, a warm feeling covering his face. He felt himself fall to his knees and his hands go to his no un-bandanna'd face. Seconds went by, and he knew the vampire hovered over him, probably some fell smirk across it's pale face... closing in for the right moment to kill. He couldn't hear anything, he noticed... or next to nothing. All was now like incessant groaning in his ears.

His mouth was open however, he could feel himself breathing out... he was probably yelling like a madman. The warm feeling continued down his face, he could taste something odd on his mouth...

Suddenly, all at once, his hearing started to come back. He could hear himself yelling now, and the chatter of gunfire... the clang of steel on steel. His hands came off his face, shaking... he could feel it. He managed to slowly open one eye, his hands were shaking indeed... covered with bright red blood, his own blood. He felt his other eye start to open, a searing pain making him wince terribly. He saw nothing through his other eye.... nothing but infinite darkness.

He felt his face again, a jagged cut streamed down from his forehead and diagonally across and over his right eye. He knew then he was blinded... he felt his strength waning from some blood-loss, but then he looked up.

The vampire stood over him like a grim-reaper of death. It held its sword high into the end; a jagged and blackened broadsword. It would come down like a guillotine upon his skull if he did nothing. Inside, such a feeling of adrenaline came to him. He was still losing blood, but he felt his strength return ten-fold. With great speed, his hand went to his back and unsheathed the Kukri. In one grand motion, Vlad shot up from his kneeling position and impaled the Vampire straight into the face with his own blade. The foul thing made an ear-shattering screech as it in turn fell to the ground, dropping his sword with a clatter.

It died kneeling before Vlad, an ironic display of a shift in power. Putting a bloodied boot to the corpses face, he ripped out his Kukri and stood for a moment. A put his gloved hand to his blind eye and with a face of untold rage, he looked back up to the balcony, and the ringleader of all these undead bastards.

"Ivan... make sure to kill that bastard for me, for Russia, and our families." Vlad managed to say before he fell to his knees once more.

His strength was going fast. He only just managed to un-holster a single Makarov. Sliding himself to the cold, stone wall of the Cathedral, he sat against there and tried to keep conscious for as long as he could.

Ivan's ears flattened and heckles raised in alarm as he heard Vlad yelling in pain - Despite the unspeakble horrors that had thus unfolded within the Cathedral that day and the haunting events he and everyone else had witnessed, Vlad was Ivan's closest friend, and should anything to him, it would dearly effect Ivan to a signicantly higher degree than everything else from that day put together.

The distraction risked creating an opening for his opponent, but Ivan had strict rules about how he conducted his fights - And he knew to stick to those rules. Half-growling, he replied to Vlad's request. "The scumbag'll be swept out to the trash as a pile of dust before the night is gone.. You can bet on it.."

Ivan suddenly lunged forward - at full speed, half-strength; An attempt to create an opening where none existed - to a few feet short of his opponent, swiping in-front of the vampire for an intentional miss. The vampire stepped one foot back and raised his guard, and once Ivan's swing had finished, in a single motion, struck his sword forward with full force, aiming for Ivan's chest - Ivan's plan had succeeded. Quickly side-stepping to the right, the sword passing directly in front of him, in the one single motion, Ivan grabbed the sword in mid-thrust with his left arm, grabbed the front of the vampire's shoulder with his right, locked his right leg behind the vampire's left, and holding the sword tightly, pummeled downward force through the vampire's shoulder and sharply kicked upwards from behind his legs.

Uncontrollable, losing hold of his weapon, the vampire flipped over backwards and landed heavily onto the ground in front of Ivan, who still held tightly onto the open blade of the sword with his steeled claws.

Swapping arms and swiftly exchange blade for butt, before the elder vampire had a chance to roll out of the way or get up, Ivan pounced with full-force onto his fallen opponent, and in and act of both irony and absurdity given his Werewolf form, sank the Vampire's own sword down through his heart. The vampire yelled out with a tone that suggested something between spite, vengeance and sheer agony. His full weight pinning down his opponent, Ivan dug his feet into the exposed flesh of his foe, and with full-force, dragged the sword upwards, through its owner's chest and through the neck, slicing through the skull and exiting straight through to the other side.

At this stage, most vampires should surely turn to dust, but alas, in its final moments, the elder vampire let out a blood curdling scream, taking its time to slowly relinquish corpus despite being cleanly cut in two from the mid-section upwards, and after undoubtedly gaining the attention of any and all living creatures within a mile surrounding, shattered into the fine white powder as a parting gift as it finally, so far as everyone else could be aware, made its way back to the underworld from where it came.

In the end, as both parties had well expected, victory had come swiftly in a single blow allowed by a single mistake. This time, it was Ivan's - But he knew full well it could've easily gone either way.

In that moment, as Ivan looked around, he realised he'd just succeeded in killing the leader of invading forces.

The battle was not over, but, it was surely close.

He looked around, hoping to see survivors of defending forces -- Some had indeed survived, but the vast majority of the Dark Symphony's forces had been, not only defeated, but brutally killed, torn to shreds by the hellish fiends they'd fought that day. The survivors could literally be counted by hand -- Vlad lay nursing a wounded eye against a nearby wall; Ian stood backed against a corner, sweat dripping and breath racing, his weapons aimed in all directions against any unseen enemies that may be ready to attack; Dante stood somewhere on the floor, Blade drawn and dripping with blood; Alexander stood to the rear of the other side of the balcony, still holding his rifle, undoubtedly, having picked off numerous enemies as they'd entered the building; Onora lay kneeling behind the alter, an attempt to protect herself and remain safe from the ever-encrouching forces; Her partner, nearby, protecting her in-turn, and Bradley -- Even Bradly had come out to fight, holding some sort of bizarre contraption of a rifle that Ivan had never seen before -- undoubtedly one of his more recent developments -- Having been forced out of his laboratory of numerous undead that had filtered their way through. Every other hunter, so far as Ivan could, lay either dead or shredded and unrecognisable.

An average sized group of seven or so undead zombies made a slow approach up the stairs, continuing their automated path, unaware of the situation of their now looming defeat. Not recognising Ivan as a target, the group walked straight passed, essentially ignoring him entirely.

Slowly, they moved towards Vlad, who still lay against a wall, nursing his eye. In one swift motion, Ivan leaped over and blocked their path, positioning himself between them and Vlad, and using the elder vampire's sword, cut them down swiftly -- Drearily, without mind to do anything beyond the purposes to which they were raised, they walked straight into Ivan's strikes, not bothering to dodge or block. Within a few seconds, each lay in a pile of nondescript body parts, no longer animate.

Dropping the sword, Ivan moved beside Vlad to check his condition.

***

:: OOC ::

Alright. 'Tis 4:15 AM where I am currently, and I'll be catching the plane to Tassie in less than two hours. Meaning I've got to run, and I might not be posting again for a while. If possible, down the track, I'd request finding a way to not involve my character too much until I return as to avoid inherant problems of my not being here to control him, but please be kind - I don't want anything nasty to happen to my character.

Until I post again (and until I get back if I manage to post before that time), Bleach is officially in control of my character and has my blessings to control what he does and doesn't do.

( As a note to this end - Ivan is entirely to loyal to Dark Symphony, but is more loyal to Vlad than Dark Symphony - If anything were to happen to Vlad, he'd be more interested in protecting Vlad than anyone else, even running away if necessary. Additionally, his identity as a Werewolf is an absolute secret - Everyone in the Cathedral will already know about it and accept it, but won't want to tell the higher ups about it due to their approach to such situations [ask Chef for more details if so needed], and Ivan will guard this secret from anyone he doesn't know. Aside from kill targets, ofcourse. Best of luck, and hopefully this one doesn't die like the other. )

Ian could not tell if they were winning or losing this battle. Ivan had taken out their leader, but they were being swarmed constantly by the fiends like an endless wave of hatred. Vlad was in a critical condition and many of the other hunters were dead, others backed into corners like himself, fighting for their lives.

"This is a nightmare..." Ian said, flipping out his shotgun and blowing a hole through the chest of an approaching corpse. There were dead piled all around, both friend and foe. He was surprised the enemy could even make it up the stairs with the amount of corpses piled up there. There was a clot of enemies on the stairs, packed together so tightly it looked almost ridiculous. Ian narrowed his eyes, reloading his shotgun and blasting through another Werewolf before it could claw him in half.

He fought his way out of his corner, slashing to and fro with his sword, sending most of the weaker enemies away rather quickly, and made it over where Vlad and Ian were located. They both looked battle worn, but they were still hanging on.

"This isn't looking so good," Ian said. "I hope you've both made your peace with God. I don't think we have much time to live."

Ian fought on, but he felt his muscles weakening, and was giving away to attacks that he should have been able to deflect. He was gaining cuts by the second, trying to fend off Vampiric knights with no progression. It was no use, almost. There were simply too many... They needed more help before...

"Mr. Gray!" yelled out a voice. It was the old quack, Bradley, standing over at one of the balconies, protected for now by a few hunters. He had a few objects in his hand, though Ian couldn't rightly tell what they were.

"Bradley, get out of here!" Ian yelled at the man. "You're going to get yourself hurt! Run!"

"There's nowhere to run to, Ian!" Bradley said with a grin. "Besides, I've got other plans!"

"That man is crazy..." Ian said to himself, looking back up at the old man. "If you've got something you want to do, do it!"

Bradley grinned, took the objects in his hand, pulled the pins in them, and threw them on the staircase, barely making it. Just then, Ian realized what it was that he was throwing. It was a prototype grenade that the old man had been working on. Ian stared at the two grenades that fell between the feet of many fiends on the staircase. Before they even realized what was happening, a sudden explosion hit, sending fiends flying in pieces everywhere. Ian covered his face with his arm from the bright explosion, and looked back to see the staircase collapsed with piles of limbs and weapons from the fiends lying everywhere.

"It worked!" Bradley yelled, laughing. Ian couldn't help but let out a grin at this, but his face soon turned serious. He pointed his sword at the remaining enemies, looking around at all the remaining hunters.

"Now is the time, hunters!" he said. "Slay those fools while we have the chance!"

Ian let out a yell and jumped into combat, slicing the heads off of Vampires and gutting Werewolves to and fro with his brethren. It felt good to have the upper hand now. The fiends were surprised at this attack, so naturally they were being defeated quite easily at the moment. They still had more numbers than the hunters, but they didn't stand a chance against renewed bravery. It was up to his friends to finish these demonic creatures off before they had a chance to get a hold of themselves. Now that battle was completely on the balconies. This was their only chance for victory. They could not waste it.

The battle did not last much longer, as fierce as it was. The hunters were finally getting the upper hand in this battle, much due to Bradley's efforts, and were successfully destroying the fiends with no mercy.

Ian let off the last shot, firing a bolt straight into the heart of the last Vampiric knight, causing it to fall and turn to dust. He let out a groan of relief and propped himself against the railing of the balcony, looking around at their battlefield.

The Cathedral was in more ruins than it was before. Many of their machinery and papers were scattered everywhere, destroyed and ruined. Piles of corpses were all over, causing quite a stench (though Ian knew most of the stench came from those beastly Werewolves). It was sickening to see, but also satisfying, knowing that this was all over.

It would take a long time to clean this place up, but the Cathedral would survive. Maybe they'd actually get some repairs going. Ian looked around, trying to see if there were any familiar faces he had seen in the fight. He saw the corpse of Alexander von Häfen, a sniper, with sword gashes all over him. He had died protecting the unconscious body of Onora Van Helsing. She had passed out from sheer terror, it seemed, and nothing would wake her. If she was in shock, she could be out for a long time.

"That girl is still alive," Ian said to one of his underlings. "Get her to the room with all the injured and tend her there."

"Yes, sir," the man said, picking up the light body and carrying her downstairs. Ian took a quick look at the stairs, noticing the bodies of Dante De Luca and Gabriel Van Helsing strewn across the steps. Dante still had his melee weapons in his hands, and appeared to have been mauled by a Werewolf, which he took out with his last breath. Gabriel appeared to have been pummeled in the head by something with lots of blunt force, maybe a war hammer. Ian closed his bugging eyes and sighed. If Onora ever woke up, he'd have to tell her what happened to her brother, and she would likely go into more shock. It wasn't a good situation.

Ian walked back up to Vladmir, who appeared to be unconscious, and Ivan and Bradley, who were both gathered by his side. Bradley sighed, looking around.

"This was a disaster," he said, saddened. "I've lost so much hard work here... and, of course, a lot of people died. That's not good, as well."

"I was prepared for something like this," Ian said, sighing. "There were too many, and I knew it. This is why I don't like to make too many friends around here, though sometimes I can't help myself."

Ian looked over at Vladmir, and then to Ivan, who appeared to be somewhat concerned about his brother. Vlad looked to be in bad condition, but he knew the man would survive. He was tougher than that to just die in his sleep.

"He'll pull through," Ian said to Ivan, trying to reassure him. "He's been through worse. But are you okay?"

OOC: I'm back. And forward march, comrades!! *Military Music*

***

Ivan had, in the back of his mind, heard the desperate and bloodcurdling screams of his companions as one by one, they were felled by their enemies. However, in his current state and being more concerned about protecting Vlad at the time, it wasn't until after the battle was over that it registered exactly what had come to pass.

Ivan was bruised from head to toe as a result of the intense melee that he and many others had just faced, but hadn't suffered any life threatening injuries or permanent scarring.

Ivan looked over his fallen comrades one by one. He spent a great deal of time with Häfen, the two mastering many of their sniping skills together, working side-by-side on many numerous occasions; Dante was another close friend, the two having covered one another's backs on many seemingly impossible ventures; Ivan didn't know Gabriel as well or for as long, but still had respect for the man. His sister, Onora, laying unconscious on the balcony nearby, would certainly be having a hard time to recover after this day, assuming she ever did.

Looking around, Ivan could not see any of their enemies standing - They'd won this battle. But at a great cost.

Tired from the battle, with it now over, Ivan allowed himself to drop to a sitting position, taking a moment to catch his breath. Almost as quickly as he'd transformed to begin with, Ivan returned back to his human form, his gauntlets dropping to the ground beside him. Taking a deep breath, he responded to Ian, calmly. "Yeah.. I'm doing alright."

Ivan sat remaining where he was for a minute or so before standing up to gather his belongings and redress back to his usual attire. Covered in bruises, but mostly hidden behind his polar fleece, he looked back to Ian. The events of the day were one of the many hazards of their occupation, and such events were not unprecedented. When it happened, it was never easy, but there was little that could be said in such a situation - It was the duty of those that survived to recover and grow stronger in preparation for the battles to come, and hopefully, one day, put an end to. Unspoken, with a single solemn glance, it was clear what had to be done.

Ian nodded in response to Ivan, though he could tell that his friend was still very upset about the whole ordeal. It was hard not to be. Everyone that was still living had some regrets from this battle. Old friends were scattered all over the place like rag dolls and work from many years of research was scattered all over the place on the blood-stained ground.

"This day won't be forgotten, I can assure you all that," Ian said, grunting. "What happened here was a fight for humanity, though none of them will ever be aware of what happened. None of us will be the great war heroes in the history books. For all the public knows, we're normal people with normal lives and normal jobs. It's a shame that such honorable people will die and not receive as much attention as they deserve."

There was a brief pause. Bradley looked over at Ian after his short monologue. The old man's eyes somehow looked grave and upset. Ian knew that Bradley did not expect to have to be included in the battle.

"What do we do now, Ian?" Bradley said, slightly frustrated. "Do we just tell our leader that everyone died and we failed here?"

"There's not much else we can do," Ian said. "We'll have to take a train back and deliver it ourselves. Not sure if some messenger can describe what happened here."

"Right..." Bradley said thoughtfully. "Well, I'm coming with you. There's nothing left for me here, and as far as I know, all of you are the only friends I have."

"I wouldn't say that," Ian said, shaking his head. "But you're welcome to travel with us. We could use a brain in the group."

"I am grateful, Ian," Bradley said, smiling. "I will go and try to scavenge as much as I can before we depart."

Ian nodded and turned towards Ivan, looking down at the passed out Vlad. He certainly hoped that he was alright, as he had taken quite a beating in this battle.

"Well, now all that awaits us are the harsh words of our higher ups," Ian said, sighing. "The train ride will be long, so we'll have plenty of time for rest on it, however, so that's the one good thing about all this. Take as much time as you need here. We'll be leaving as soon as possible."

Ian turned and walked towards the flight of stairs, looking down at all the dead piled up. The Cathedral would never quite look the same again. It had seen many battles, but nothing quite serious like this. Every time now that Ian would walk up the stairs, he would be reminded of what happened on them, and how many men were destroyed in the carnage on it. It wouldn't be a place of peace anymore, for him, and many others. It didn't matter how well they cleaned it up, it'd still bring him back to this very day of horror.

Ian closed his eyes briefly and sighed. One of the first major battles in a while had barely been won. He did not know what other horrors this would lead up to, but he was for sure that nothing good would come out of it. All there was to do, however, was wait until another catastrophe happens. This battle wasn't fought for nothing.

Something evil was being reawakened.

He could feel it.


ACT I: END