The Shadow Wars: Leviathin

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

From: The Masterwork of the Age

Psalms 74:14: "It was you who crushed the heads of Leviathan and gave him as food to the creatures of the desert."

"Twisting under water, shifting on slick belly along land masses moves Leviathin. It is even in the air; invisible flight finds substance in the dark mass of intangible shadows being devoured. See how they eat themselves? What if, growing tired of circling like the omniborus symbol, it could grow fat on stuff beyond the shadows? Questions asked with no consideration that the answer could ever be true? No, because mythology on tadamount with metaphor manifests nothing. It is nothing, but a fable you recount...

That is unless you are steeped in mysticsm, crafted by intrigue, and do violence in the dark and make the impossible happen in broad daylight without lifting a finger?

Men and women have trembled in fear of it. People have cast writ of it in books and philosophers, scholars, and all manner of dark thinkers have tried to figure the nature of the Leviathin --

But it is not in the way one would first think. Neither from a religious text or one of myth, I speak on the stuff of simple fact "

-- Elusha Vittergaust, Grandmaster --From the Masterwork of the Age, As kept by the Order of Roses

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

Come, come look. Peer into my mirror-lake and watch the sequels of ripples. This now is the present..

{Leviathin in the World of Shadows]

Elusha Vittergaust

Order of the Roses
Rank: Master
Ranking Amongs Europe: Grandmaster, One of Four
Status: Deceased, murdered, by his student
Principle: Vittergaust is best known as the right-hand who put together the body of and made short work of the enemies of the Earl of Canterbury and unfoiled some of the most hideous court plots against members of the English nobility against the English nobility that would have overthrown the crown long before the Mo'r Triath had ever touched the soul. His influence stretched in the Order of the Roses beyond borders to France, Italy, Germany, and even his birthplace of Russia. His crafts were learned by only the best, and so when he taught, his triumphs and failures were still on par excellence.

Resulting in a generation of great magnitude..from this man, his influence would influence others, and three would rise. His first, would prove his great failure. The second, would prove his magnum opus and the one he wished to give the written work to. The third, the rejected apprentice of the mad one and the one the second took on, became the blending of his old masters mechanism and the grandmasters humanistic approach to a cold occupation. He, too, exhibited such promise that Vittergaust taught them to form an odd intergenerational family.

During his life, he never told them that he was transcribing the Masterwork of the Age. This is akin to a bible among their kind; the tome of plots, instruments, tools, persons. Incriminating tales of how things were done and what with across the ancient world and beyond to the time of current European civilization. His secret would be one of the great causes in his death and this work, long thought to be the sort of fiction one entrances Noviate attention with, is so real that his remaining survivors are inluded in Leviathin's puzzle codes, or cyphers

Lady Claramae Aisling St. Laurence


His mangnum opus, Vittergaust took on the girl if only to have a companion in his advancing age. When his attempts were refuted and he found her again in London, she was in possesion of a large store of wealth and the unlikely curiosity of no male guardian. Taking her keen hands he shaped them to be his pysician's apprentice, but it was Gottschalk who bid his master bend the woman's brilliant mind and hone her practiced aim. What came of it was a triumph and subsequent tragedy of the realized 'perfect weapon'. Calling her his 'unblemished English rose with Irish color and thorn," her bloom has not withered. With her abilities in medicine to politics, Vittergaust's early Renaissance exsistence was put into her.

Cypher 1
-Claramae-
Sub-Text
-Aisling-

Sir Alendral Sorschal


Alexander was to be the chosen prodigy of Gottschalk, though in time his master's mental malady was too much for his own master, Vittergaust to ignore any longer. At the behest of Claramae, Gottschalk was turned away and Alexander was given to Claramae, so that she might continue his education. Intelligent, but cold, his indifference to the life Vittergaust held in his ability to remain human was in stark contrast. Still, with Claramae's unusual penchant for remote stillness, he began to be coaxed to not only asking questions but humanizing the world around him once more. With his gift for illusions, he seemed a natural addition. He remained a distinct fixture in the trio in their years together.

Cypher 1
-Alexander-
Sub-Text
-smoke-mirror-

Claramae: "The plan is set into motion again, Voltaire. I am going to London, and before I go we are going to make sure that Thames river-bile will not be following suit" Suffice to say Joseph Larkin was no more of the 'Household' and was to meet the great Maker. "I trust you can begin the work on this, Maxamillion." Oh, would he. Dare one say that Voltaire would enjoy the chance to draw the life out of that London poor-swagger? Creeping, inch of grin pulled at the thin line before dissolving into the signature lack of expression that deemed them ones of the household. "Madame." Why had he taken to calling her this monicher for the droll, dry humor of making appropriate Madame Death? It would be that entity that joined her in marriage for a man to do so would be a feat of some fascination. Michael Vincere was her companion but broached not the subject of the woman exchanging her name for his. Independent means financied life, conjoined desires warmed their bed so not much else need be done of it. Claramae had lent herself to the noviates, finding them unused to her presence in the direct but more of a whisper in the back of their minds, a presence often gone or flitting about in circles they dared not try to understand but since the war and the coming of Janice, her presence breathed through the halls like a dragon bellowing out hot breathe. The impact was immediate and dazzling, the feeling in the aftermath somewhat strange. Where often she bent her rapiers now the lady was bending her wit. If indeed Krause, Mannering, and Kryptmann had a hand in wanting to abscond the girl, than there had to be reasoning behind it. Indeed she said to all in story that their assumptions proved false - but what if there was something they did not consider - what if it was not something inside, but something about the girl? Pages opened the doors to Laurence's personal study. In fact, it was two lower rooms and the upper where in her science was layed out.

Alendral: "Claramae..." he said with the urge of warning entering his tone. It was too much. It was a fools errand. This was the stuff of clandestine war, not the resources they possessed, a dwindling reserves of Spies drained by this blasted War. The finality in her voice, the organization. "..Claramae, this is well beyond the scope of our aims. Even if we were still in England, the resources would be daunting. The closer we get to this the more entangled we become with them. You're talking about a legacy that could make us the enemy of every country we know of--even Skye's court would balk at the implications at this. If what you say is true, than going into England is suicide. I can't allow it. Not with this. We have to look at this more carefully. They're here now... they could hunt you..or attack Janice than.. we're talking about resounding dangers. Numerous.. incountable dangers. "

Claramae: An urge of warning tempered with the rationality of fact. "Alexander. Clandestine war is what I have been bred for, if nothing else. God given purpose or simply the designs of fate. A Grandmaster's apprentice and appointment in both clandestine spy and militant orders. I can not begin to tell you why these things were done other than for this purpose. There will be halls of marble. There will be places of darkness. There will be everything that has been done and things not done. If they should come for me it will detere fascination from Janice and give you long enough to secure what little resources here we have. That masterwork can not remain in England. What is worse is if we stay immobile than we are as good as dead. There is too much at stake to only review, it must be reviewed, fetched and God be praised," she crossed herself, "Read for ourselves. If not destroyed all together. Otherwise this will never end. It will never cease, and we have no more room nor want to grow sick on loss." The papers in anothe area were stacked, slipped into a folio she picked up as she looked at him. "If both Vittergaust men have lost their life to this, and Danielle, I will not give Janice to them. I will not give one of the few things good in this entire world of ours to them to dismantle..and so help me..I will not give them you, either." (d)ce unfolded. Pulling up papers into her arm she ascnded the twisting stairway. "I will figure you out, Mannering, " she whispered, "for this has an air of you about it. Puzzles. Cyphers. Krause comes so far but you, you are the master of a riddle. I will figure you out." (d)

Alendral: "For Krause and Mannering to pool their resources speak of a need greater then the two of them, does it not?" the voice came from the SPymaster himself, who had slipped in quietly past Voltaire, so wrapped in her mind that he was able to exploit weakness enough to follow--one of the few who truly could, truth be told, but sufficed to say he had come considerably far in the world. Without say muching else, he took a small bit of papers to share the load, his expression drawn into inscrutable mask--clearly Alex had been dwelling on much the same subject, but where Laurence occupied herself with the goal, Alex chose to analyze the men involved--unfortunately, such path lead to only the conclusion that whatever they hunted was grave indeed. "Krause is a man who fancies himself the man who can succeed Gottschalk and his failings, yet Mannering venerates him like a child holds Father as god. Memory serves me, the two never saw eye to eye on anything. " which was why Alex had never considered Mannering working directly beneath them--Mannering himself considered himself in the position Gottschalk once held over his students, and some, like Kryptmann, deferred to him as readily as Krause-others rebelled, and some paid for it. but even Mannering wasn't stupid enough to tangle with Krause, and Krause considered any conflict with Mannering as a terrible waste of resources that would leave them both weaker. "It doesn't make sense. Mannering, I can understand, revenge against Vittergaust... but Krause? Why would he want to settle the score with Janice?" explaining perhaps Alendral's sudden appearance--it was a piece of the puzzle he could find no place.

Claramae:the fact that he was but one of no less than three people in the world who could haunt her steps with neither recognition needed or required. Passing him a page of notes to go with the writings had,she began to speak to a shadow incarnate. "Attacking in broad daylight is as desperate as it becomes. One might say that Larkin was so set on pleasing his new master that the angles of his plan meant far little. It was obtaining the girl, ambition. The one man who might stand a chance against the likes of Vance was Larkin, so he was kept alive, which suggests they have followed our same trails for months." Frustration set in but it did not waver her voice, even lowering her eyelids did not crease the brow. "Which means that they had hoped to turn Vincere towards the same ends, but failed, bitterly. So then if they knew of Janice, why not take her from the convent long before we sent for her? Krause is far more crazed than Mannering so each man required the other's skill, Krause's ability to torchure and Mannering's to twist. It is also a symbol of merit...Mannering..Mannering was educated in university. So then it is...scholastic...." More shuffling of papers, more shifting to spread them out on tables to look for all evident signs. "have we then been wrong? Not being able to secure the Ducal family, the Pople too was here, and he was not harmed. Many a foreign body and chance for ample knowledge. ....Kryptmann, Kryptmann....the three of them, after something. It isn't promiment. it has nothing to do with Maubrey.... it might have, if they acquired it in time for fame, but..the work goes on beyond him. They have given not one qualm of thought to other employers.." She began to pace..."We must think...think differely..think further....think back." (d)

Alendral: "Kryptmann's a mercenary Claramae. His motives are simple, don't let them complicate things." He chided. Kryptmann was one of the easisest understood--Gottschalk's craft were a means to an end of him, and he cared about nothing but sating his own desires. "No. No, Maubery is just a fool. A patsy, who gives them resources in the hope that he'll bring them his gleaming little Empire. They pursue an agenda of their own devising. " he shook his head, grimacing, before a possible answer hit him square between his eyes. "... There is no reason for it. They could have had Janice any time they wanted before he came here, but they didn't. She was insignficant to both of them. Of course she would be--Gottschalk never met or even saw Vittergaust's daughter. " he replied bluntly. "...It's something new. When was Janice's Uncle slain? " he turned to pass a look at her, ghosts of threads aligned together, piece of piece before his own eyes. "...His uncle sent Janice away entirely... but then risked a message for us to retrieve her. Doesn't make sense. If he had been concerned for her safety after looking at the book he would have sent a missive to you first off. But he didn't. Something changed between the interim. Something that put Janice in more peril than he realized..."

Claramae: "He is a mercinary who' shand is being stayed when he could have annhilated half of what he was after by now..this agenda is so precise we must consider his assets into the equation, Sorschal." She chided back and invoked professional name, not out of lacking for their closeness but in the scientific proximity. If her mind walked the spheres of puzzles, logics, and aftermaths than her company could become somewhat sterile. "This is madness...this is utter ....wait. " She turned to face him and moved clockwork around the table "The reason would have to be that...they learned of her exsistence...but only after learning.....that his brother, was alive. Otherwise how...would they know. The girl was alive for years before they sent her to teh convent.......she was 14......Janice's Uncle was only just slain perhaps in the last few weeks, which means they'd been waatching, for longer. The three of them...for that long? They would never manage unless they were looking for something so great that it would benefit each man. ..WHY didn't I see it before." She clapped her hands together once, brough the finger crooked beneath her chin and went towards the shelves.. "Janice was sent away for looking at his books, Sorschal, his books! Jacob Vittergaust you enobled fool!" She said in anger at the dead, crossing herself though the man was a Jew and not a Christian. She pulled back paper after paper and pulled up the folio. It was worn, aged. "he had us write scripts..remember, to stay our hands....I had you dothe same of what he gave me.....of his work.....Sorschal.....Jacob started it..again." (d)

Alendral: The very suggestion of such a thing earned a raised brow, letting her mind tumble over the possiblities piece by piece. but where he fell short, she apparently pieced together a good deal of the rest. "...Surely you can't be serious. " he said with a creeping amount of dread. It was stupid--it was insane. his brother knew only tangentally of the life, he most certainly couldn't attempt something so dangerous, not with his own family involved. "...Claramae... if Gottschalk knew of a way to translate those texts he would have moved Heaven and Earth to retrive them. Anyone interested in preserving that legacy would stop at nothing to learn the few secrets supposedly withheld. Why in the name of God would that man put himself at risk such foolishness? " he shook his head and grimaced, moving to stop across the table and lean his hands down. "And.. even so, why Janice? Surely they could not be such fools to believe that she would retain any of their secrets. One look at the girl would tell you of her innocence in this. What secrets could they possibly hope to glean from that?"

.
Claramae: "Gottschalk was Vittergaust's apprentice before me, and long before you were Gottschalk's. He has seen the works since it's inception. He gave us each a piece, tailored to us, but in no way was it the complete works. ....the poisons, the codex, cyphers, institutions of the continent,antidotes....instruction..precious instruction even so far as violation of doctrines." She walked counter clockwise around the table and beganto remember, "Why would his brother have begun to dabble....unless Jacob thought....to finish them. But why after all these years......unless....he had only...a portion.....oh none of this makes sense.." Another impass! Why would an established gentry member, retired physician at that jeopardize years of a decent life for this! ..Then it dawned upon her as if the sun were cresting over the study, blinding them. "Unless he was working....not..to finish ...but to..study....and what..Janice saw were his notes..like our copies..like our folios........but where would he even beginto get..them.." Think Claramae think! She began to shut her eyes and go back, far back. Back beyond this room - beyond this island - back to a place once called home wherein her hand moved not far behind her master's...."He...then...if a book...had to have bound what he had.....and if he bound what he had...if they were copies....this means that he was......guarding...guarding the originals! Oh....no.." She actually turned and began to tear her bookshelf apart with curious fingetips.."Sorschal..... I need you to look for the book....the book with the emblem on it...the dagger..and the rose......" (d)

Alendral: He remained silent in the face of the working for her clues, eyes narrowed gently but saying nothing, afraid to knock her off the path. But where she had grown feverish, he had remained calm, and with a frown, he'd slip to the bookshelf and begin to pull afew books till he found the one she was looking for. Dagger and the Rose...? it coudln't have been. With some degree of apprehension, he handed it to her. "...Vittergaust's...?" he asked, fearful to give voice to what he suspected it was. The path was becoming clear, but path was a terrible one, one that put Janice in mortal danger unknown to either of them. and were their suspicions and fear to be true? Then there would be no stopping either of them. It was an end-game for them, and they would stop at nothing to take it from her, even if they burned Skye in the interim to get it. Lord, for all this to suddenly find it's way to Skye! strange twists of fate that brought him to the island in the service of his old craft. It took every oune of poise and experience not to tremble...

Claramae:It was an elegant walk around the table, the scholar's debate pushing and pulling at maximum volume in her head..quickening her feet, making excitement rise in a still rather collected tone. One must keep one's wits about them she had told Vittergaust..

"Sometimes, dear child, your wits and senses will be hit quite hard. Even I know what fear is.."

That was when he rendered up a story to her a few hundred years old come from a generation of crusaders. There was once an order of knights that was formed and their purpose was to bring information back to the courts of Europe to dismantle the Moslem kings. There developed their codes, their principes and ethics. Slowly the order grew to many branches, until one day but one order wished to recieve the kings' glories. He unleashed a terror, annhilating all others of his brotherhood until but one branch of them remained, this terror was called Leviathin, and the secret to it's inception, to raising the private army, its funding, and even where the seat of it are hidden were said to be passed down only to one or two every so often...as a way to either quell the rogue or if one was crazed, to make themselves the last man standing. It was often given to men who wrote....The rose and dagger book was passed to Claramae where in she drew from her breasts the litte emblem of the same. Putting it in the lock, it opened, pages opening seeming of their own accord. "Once..there was.." She recounted the story to Sorschal from the pages of the book, the beginnings of what had been her own collection. Names, dates, places she had and only those fiercly loyal or the likes of Sorschal would ever see. They had stolen The Book of Accomplishment from the Church, the black Book of the Inquisistion. Between them they had enough to bring Europe to it's knees but what of securing a dynasty? One supreme legacy in a world of elegant subterfuge and masters of death. The way that detailed not only the tools of a man's day trade but that of his vice, his intrigues? And Vittergaust had the keys. The keys lesser groups and access to the higher. His medicine skills and science lent him leave to study along the Iberian penninsula. " Vittergaust wasn't telling a story...he was conveying his masterwork. He did not tell us directly, but i believe before he died this is why he was so different. This is why he was in such a hurry to ..finish..but he never did...unless...unless he really did, when he made preperations for us to the Papa States. Alexander.." It was not Sorschal as her mind drifted, as the book closed and the frostine composistion was pin-pricked. She did not shiver, but oh how she wished she had the ability to simply move. " I am not just going to England for his journals....he finished it. He finished the entire compliation and we never knew...but Gottschalk did. He was obsessed with us...because we were closer to it than he ever had privelege to be. First me, and then Elusha trusted you. Nothing was ever explained him but the beginning wherein everything else was closed. But he taught us the mathematics and science for the alterations of rooms, the cyphers everything. He..wanted me to give him the codex, and he could find no way to break it from me. He never asked, he assumed..I woudl bable it.:" All these years and now it made sense as to why Gottschalk tormented her ceasely, of what he was after. "He could get it from neither of us and in the end..we killed him. Vittergaust was the writer of the masterwork for the age. He is one of *the* Grandmasters..why did I never see it before... He died as he finished the book, Gottschalk must have found the clues to the location but could not break the encryptions......that must mean.......that all of us..are somehow....in the codex....and if they get their hands upon the masterwork...if they raise the properties of the Leviathin.. (d)

Alendral: What was he to say the realization? the idea stopped him in the tracks, the recreation of an old legacy, the tools to bring--god knows what? What had Vittergaust discovered all those days ago? The idea stopped him cold, brought his fingertips over the edge of the table, staring at her in complete silence. Vittergaust had told neither of them any of this. Which begged teh question, what had he meant for the two of him? Despite the fact, he found himself growing angry, even disgusted. He had kept this all from them, and left them all like ticking timebombs to Gottschalks ambition. anxiously, the Illusionist rubbed at his muoth and tried to process it. "...God In Heaven..." but the implications of what it all meant--the gravity of the situation... it was like a nightmare made real. "...Krause and Mannering... even Kryptmann."

Claramae:"I think he tried to tell us, in those final days, what he was having us write..preparing us for. Gottschalk had made himself what he was never supposed to be, he called himself a Grandmaster. Vittergaust was running out of time, he was running out o ftime and he knew it. Alexander...I think the codex's have been with us..have been near his brother Jacob, and his wife Danielle, all these years. Jacob took up his work all these years ago in his place..i think he was trying to find a way back into the world to retrieve it. ..." She used her hands to make it around teh table, to a point on the shelf where impliments were pushed farther back so her hands could go flat. "And there is talk....of the meetings resuming again...the places of exchange." Where flesh was peddled and sold for warriors, for informants. Where the rich induglent went to gamble, to play and be plithy, where the Orders met to size one anoher. "Everything is a distraction, everything is to pull us around and out..and then to finish everything that was started, and more.." And Vittergaust's heirs were once one, then made three. It was a challenge for dominance! If they two had become as one, then his associates were going to eventually battle between them to see which one would be the "Gottschalk" of them all. And what was to be done? "To England, as soon as can be had then." She uttered, drawing herself up and over to the collection of papers to be reorganized. That was madness. That was insanity. That...would be.. that could very well be the last great work of Lady Laurence if she did not make it out alive! (d

Alendral: "Claramae..." he said with the urge of warning entering his tone. It was too much. It was a fools errand. This was the stuff of clandestine war, not the resources they possessed, a dwindling reserves of Spies drained by this blasted War. The finality in her voice, the organization. "..Claramae, this is well beyond the scope of our aims. Even if we were still in England, the resources would be daunting. The closer we get to this the more entangled we become with them. You're talking about a legacy that could make us the enemy of every country we know of--even Skye's court would balk at the implications at this. If what you say is true, than going into England is suicide. I can't allow it. Not with this. We have to look at this more carefully. They're here now... they could hunt you..or attack Janice than.. we're talking about resounding dangers. Numerous.. incountable dangers. "

Claramae:An urge of warning tempered with the rationality of fact. "Alexander. Clandestine war is what I have been bred for, if nothing else. God given purpose or simply the designs of fate. A Grandmaster's apprentice and appointment in both clandestine spy and militant orders. I can not begin to tell you why these things were done other than for this purpose. There will be halls of marble. There will be places of darkness. There will be everything that has been done and things not done. If they should come for me it will detere fascination from Janice and give you long enough to secure what little resources here we have. That masterwork can not remain in England. What is worse is if we stay immobile than we are as good as dead. There is too much at stake to only review, it must be reviewed, fetched and God be praised," she crossed herself, "Read for ourselves. If not destroyed all together. Otherwise this will never end. It will never cease, and we have no more room nor want to grow sick on loss." The papers in anothe area were stacked, slipped into a folio she picked up as she looked at him. "If both Vittergaust men have lost their life to this, and Danielle, I will not give Janice to them. I will not give one of the few things good in this entire world of ours to them to dismantle..and so help me..I will not give them you, either." (d)

[Master Claramae St. Laurence]

"..and this is the past. The strange thing is, it is the past that is now the present's problem, and if we do not stop it, than the world of Shadow will be exposed. Everyone has been afraid of what is in a closet, or at a corner in the dark? Imagine the monsters of your wicked fancy alive, thriving, in the daylight. Let Leviathin be unleashed, and you will know what makes each kingdom's back. What lives, under the mooring stones. What will ruin what it creates. A serpent made of living flesh and an army only few are fated to control for domination."

{Finding the Book of Sketches, Created by Jacob Vittergaust, Elusha's Brother}

Claramae: The ship's sail across waters were made turbulent not by the storms of Spring, but the unlikely nature of man's design. Toppling heirarchy was enough to make the sea choppy from old sea battles. Pieces of stone threatened to toppledown from the cliffs. On the day Baroness St. Laurence stood on the edges of ancestral terrain, there was the day a sheen of strangeness passed over her head. Spring blossoms fell on delapidated ports. The River Thames was filled with dirt, silt, and blood. The countryside of an estate at Rose Fielding House remained unchanged, but even a few miles from London Town seemed not to be enough to avoid smoke columns. "Our purpose is quite different, my prince. The old order is undone here. I have come to keep the Mor' Triath and the General from forces both political and enemy, while furthering other agendas. Why is it you have accompanied me, hmm? On this I am quite uncertain. You did not have to." Vincere had come to be companionship enough. Did he come to see his servitors collapse or redeem for himself sustinance in the dimming glimmer of a sliding crown jewel? (d)

Saul: ``I'm uncertain, Lady St. Laurence. I felt it was a calling I had to answer.`` He replied blatantly, taking a position beside like he normally had for the past couple of weeks. Saul, the son of Lord Apollius, stood several good lengths taller than Claramae. He wasn't a broad looking young man, but rumor surrounded his uncanny skills with a blade. Eyes which reminded all of his father, returned the glance lofted in his direction, and for only a moment he marvelled within the gaze Claramae locked with his own. He kept his expressions in check, appearing only concerned at the task at hand, but there was something deeper which was eating at him. A gloved hand rested upon the hilt of a large sword he carried about his waist, a habit he'd garnered from being an English Knight for so long. He was partially armored, and favored a cape which hung loosely over his left shoulder. At first glance, he did not appear royal , but his manicured stance spoke otherwise.[d]

Claramae: "You could have stayed with your family. Your father, your cousin, your step mother. Those of Avaria are finding new lives quite well within service or acquired substance from the Mo'r Triath. We stand 'pon the edge of a dagger here, my lord." Old habits died hard. Where his royal stance of bygone land lent itself on English habits, habitual folded grasp before long skirts was paired with a banal express devoid of any particulars while she paid him reverance. Blood was blood. Heir was heir. As the boats grazed longside one of the docks left standing she continued. "My sovereign on this soil will lose his head in his ambitions whilst the one of old could lose his son." What could Claramae lose? Hanging on the air like the lack-luster sign of a an empty in, it swung like that sign swung. She offered her hands to one of the dock boys who had been told to come forth at this strange hour when others remained pinned to a wall in their homes, in the castle, raiding the Tower or had long since fled. "Though our paths shall cross I imagine. " Once on shore, news of the burning of the English Throne in the market square reached their ears. The face of the Lady Laurence,a Baroness on this soil, found case to begin to twitch. "Then this means whatever business..we must hurry before there is time for the beaten armies to rebell.." Shadows shifted. Eyes watched before fading into nothing (d)

Saul: ``With respect, my lady. You speak of my father out of turn. He is a man of his own devices as am I. I honor my family, but I won't squabble over them whilst war is upon land. I will not swallow the insatiable thirst for pacifism my father seems keen on promoting. My means are at an angle with my family's and I intend on making my own way in this world, or die and move on to the next.`` He replied cooly, following her onto the docks. He caught the word, like she had, but remained somewhat untouched by it. He had never been loyal to the sovereign of England, but forced to show obediance. He should be celebrating this moment of freedom, but a glance paid his tribute to his comrade beside him, and judging from the look she held, they were in trouble. He sighed heavily, hearing what she had to say. ``So be it. I will follow your lead, My Lady.``[d]

Claramae: "In the same respect, your highness, you speak wrong of him that is your father and in turn, lay low the accomplishment of his wife. Their pacifism extends only so far as the proximity of threat. With her, their unsheathed blades cast aside lost children, and a bevy of holy men they subdued the English in Wales. If that is complete pacifism, then may it inspire Europe! I would say they are pragmatic pacifists, not unsensible ones. Honor thy mother and father. A very old commandment, no matter one's faith." Youth did not see a father worth honoring, but had he not saved his mother at the same time he raided on the enemy' side? Forced service or no the mind was its own. "You should not follow me at all." She replied with indifferent nonchalance, but in her own way Claramae cared for the young man in her company. He had no idea what was ahead of him in her presence. Things that were squelled in shadow for a reason. Things that made her wonder how Vincere dared to love her at all. Against her side was a crossbow, and to her back, a quiver of bolts. Beside that was a stocking of traditional aspect, for despite the necessity of a formal wardrobe they would first need to penetrate a way into the elegant sub-culture. Along the Thames, her eyes began to peel for one house. One house imparticular that was unlike all houses near the shore. (d)

Saul: She had struck a chord with him that rang louder than his stubbornness, and made him silent whilst she set him right. Saul was young, and his view of the world was limited, if not by his lack of experience. He felt, in this notion, that he was drawn to Claramae like another, similar to him, was many, many years prior to his conception. Lord Vizharen had learned from her, and even now the plague of terror wrought by the wayward Percival still haunted everyone like the lonesome, loud ring of a decaying church bell. Knowledge was like a drug for Saul, and Claramae was the answer. When she paused, and regarded what he'd suggested, he only shook his head before replying. ``You've said that many times now, yet I will not leave you to face what's ahead alone. I may not be my father, but my blade is just as lethal.`` He sighed, feeling defeated, but he knew their verbal bout was only apart the series they'd had on the ship. -- Now in silence, did he truly draw in his surroundings, and he felt his hand tighten instinctively upon his sword. If fear were a blanket, he would be walking about blind to what was around him because of it. Talon or not, knew deep down he was signing his own death warrant.[d]

Claramae: "You are a noble fool, your highness. An enobled fool." Sorschal had told Claramae she was likewise suicidal. To go forward and end any sort of legacy from the pinacle of spymasters, to prevent the unleashing of a game sequence that would trigger an end-game. Personal. Political. It melded. What Adam did not know was he was standing on top of not ony the socio-militant hotbed of his own demise, but was a walking bait in a very livid trap. She walked between the rows, silt collecting on the soles of shoes. Their footprints melded in with the host of others. Traffic on the water had died. Now that was disturbing. "The soul has been sucked from London" she murmured, pressing her fingers to a wall, looking left and right. "Come, we are going there, to that house, but not in the usual manner." Taking hold of a lower wall, she began to hoist herself up, meaning to move across the wood shingle and thatch roof tops to leave no trace of feet on clean, virgin seeming mud (d)

Saul: Saul was a nimble character, but favored the high leather boots of a sailor. He followed Claramae, but had trouble moving in the fashion she did. In her observation, her way of thinking; he found out why it was his Father always trusted her. Even in her walk, her cautious step and frame of mind, she was careful; always stretching to success against overwhelming odds. He respected her for that, and did his best to keep up. His cape was taken and hoisted about his neck to hide the shoulder cuirass and reveal the other side of his smaller frame. Thick arms held his sword in place, and with minimal sound, he kept close to her. -- He would agree with her in one aspect; he is a noble fool.[d]

Claramae: Claramae pulled herself up the first wall, and seemed to hold on to scraps between stones to climb the remainder up onto the roof. What was it her master, Vittergaust, had called her? "Little Black Cat." He had mumbled when the Jewish physician found out how nimble his apprentice was with more than just a scalpel and Sarcasian medical texts. On Gottschalk's behalf, he'd trained her further, thus beginning the relationship between a woman's body and its marvelous, somewhat unfortuante shaping into a weapon. She thought of herself as that, in the end. Saul was the same. Raw, unrefined yes. But the lad had potentials. Unlike Percival, she would not allow him to the brink of madness. Talion pushed Percival too hard, and no matter how many times she told Talion that he would, few seemed to believe unstill the slow malady quickened behind an iron mask. Her life under the Phoenix had been a hard one, but no less rewarding than that beneath Vittergaust's Rose. Or now, the Griffin. Neither emblem mattered save the Rose who's story was never told, glinting at her throat. " Four roofs over, then into the second story window.." He knew that she seemed to be collecting old relics, at the most. That she came to help Adam's head stay attached, in the least. But no sooner did they begin to move than she avoided a well-aimed bolt. Looking over, in the shadow of a chimney lay another roof-walker (d)

To Be Continued..

[Janice Olivia Monroe]

"A cypher s a secret method of writing, as by transposition or substitution of letters, specially formed symbols, or the like. In the codex, there are many riddles that transfigure into cyphers, these cyphers solve one puzzle or when put together form a master code to solver a grander scheme. Each person in the tale is a cypher level, working their way further inward to the center, to the heart of what is being assembled. The subtexts form when their cypher pieces are completed.The cyphers are solved and pieces put together by moving of objects or things in a particular way. If one is skilled in environmental alteration, one learns to apply mathematics to naturalist principles. Life, itself. People. They become cyphers --- Masterwork"

Janice Olivia Viscreed aka Janice Olivia Vittergaust
Hebrew Name: Joheved
Cypher 2-Joheved bat Miriam-
Sub text- Child of Israel -

In her youth, she was her mother's gift to her father. Born of a Jew by birth and his converted wife, in order to keep her safe in he world in which they lived it was decided that she would have two hands. A name for God, and a name close to the Franco-English heritage the family shared. Any memory of hearing Joheved on her mother's mouth is sequestered by the sweet, reverant recital of Janice by her father. Taking her both to Canterbury and London court, Claramae and Alexander loved her as a younger sister. On the day she was told the beginnings of what would bring to question nearly every aspect of her previous life, her mind began to jog. At the center of a storm of controversy, some believe her the heir to her father's works. Some think she knows how to invoke Leviathin or make sense of the riddles. To look on her is to see the truth of innocence. But, she is an unwitting player in that Janice is the key to everything. Her name, and subsequently the unlocked memories in her head are necessary to forming the complete cypher to unlock the masterworks.

"No, no I want to know...I must know....I don't want to die.." She curled against Claramae, and unaccustomed to this, how strange it would be to see her body melt in an almost maternal way, holding the child in both of her arms as she let herself be eased onto the bed "Shh...shh...there will be no more to say if you aren't calm. You are ill, and pressing you shall only make it worse.." "..please..." She brought her face up to look her in the eyes. "Your Papa...was one between the shadows." She picked a way to tell the story that was truthful, yet not blunt. Almost as if to find a way for the youth to find a gentle path. "Your Papa, was a good man. He helped me when I was not much older than you, and Master Sorschal, too. He healed people with his hands but he had a way, to fight them that was not as you see with swords or the way that other soldiers do." "he....killed?" "Yes, Janice. If he had to, he did. to protect his charges." Then she considered..."But Papa had a weakening hand, that was why he was no longer a physician, how could he kill? And his leg....How could he do these things. He made medicine..he....how could he do that." This by far was the hardest part. "Master Laurence!" She pulled away and out of bed, falling to her knees before the woman.."TELL ME! I DONT UNDERSTAND! HE SENT ME AWAY WHEN I SAW THE BOOK...I didn't mean to look..I swear it to you..I didn't mean, God forgive me ..I didn't.." She broke into pieces, "He...he....the drawings.....what was he doing? The people that came after.." Claramae beckoned Vance over, and Sorschal, for support as she took her hands. "Stop it..stop it!" She soothed her, felt her trembling. "Janice...your father....is not your father. He has led you to believe so all your life to spare you.." "NO!" "Master laurence say not that lie! My Papa would not lie...but...he did....no he would not about this! Mama.." "Child your mother is your mother, but the man you call Papa is your uncle..your father's brother....your father is Vittergaust, Elusha Vittergaust.." She had seen that name! "There...there was a...a book..it..it said..Vi..Vittergaust.....n'.....n' mama took it away.." She began to pace..fingers drawing on the air as if recalling..."But our name is Vis..Viscreed.." Poor child! She dissolved into the wall and grew dizzy

"Your father loved you, Janice." the words came from Sorschal, soft and laced with meaning. "Your Papa loved you, your mother loved you. They only wished that you live a life apart from this. It wasn't your fault, dear... he knew the men sought you, and brought the book to light to better prepare them. That you discovered it was only coincidence. " Vance stayed close, but said nothing, only looked between them, helpless in the face of a history he barely understood. Drawing to Clara's side, he ran a handover her head. "Janice.... the only terrible people here are the ones who seek to take innocence from you. You've done nothing wrong, I promise. Clara and I loved your father as one of yours... we each love you as Brother and sister would. That's why we tried to keep this from you... I'm sorry, Janice. Truly I am. I was wrong. We all were, but you didn't do anything wrong at all." he pracitcally whispered now. "Janice... the family name has always been Vittergaust. Your father was of Jewish blood, but served under the Church. the name was to hide him and family from harm. When the time was right, he would have told you, were it not for the work of evil men. Come here.. look at me. I want to show you something." the Illusionist smiled, faintly. Of the three of them, in a weird sense, Alendral had worked with children the most, and kept his tone gentle and soft.

[/center]

{....the day the world changed for one young woman....}

So then, if coming to England to figure puzzles and obtain lost volumes would render so much pain, why come at all? How strange to encounter what is beyond our understanding, but the Black Talons are not the first to encounter it. A foundling establishment, their former Order and associates were involved in a ferver pitched, zealot's fantasy. The Order of the Roses is one of the high orders for it's tradition of offering up one of the four grandmasters over all. Elusha Vittergaust had never told anyone that he was the Grandmaster, except for his brother, Jacob.

Order of the Roses
Jacob Vittergaust
Brother to Elusha Vittergaust
Status: Deceased, murdered by students of Gottschalk

The second brother does not inherit the same due as the first brother, but this was a second son who was not given the usual lesser than. He was an educated man, a suitable physician who studied with surgeons to perfect what he believe should be two blended professions as one. Living at Kent, his brother kept in touch with him after they escaped the pograms of Russia and Germany. Never leaving him alone to neither invention or disaster, he became the unmentioned point man in verifying the environment of locations. Both men exchanged notes on 'patients', even so far as takin out what his brother could not reach. Now in neither murder, spy, or esteem could Jacob reach as high as his brother...but his posistion was enough to expose him to the truth of his brother's height. In Elusha's final days, he began to hide the masterwork, vowing never to finish it.

Except that Elusha had finished it. Everything, except for the writing of what was required to unlock Leviathin. What he realized was that he was carefully trying to disguise his writings, his clues, in Hebrew. As it stood, there were not public Jews. To hide in plain site is often the best way to do so.

Taking up the Masterwork was to prove his death, but before he died he used the final trails of Jacob to track down, and use the pieces of the dismantled codex key to kill the competition. He would retrive these pieces in disections of the abomen, which poor Janice was misfortunte enough to walk in on once in her earlier years.

This was, for years, the only man that Janice had known to be Papa. In keeping a promise to see to the futures of the girl and her mother, Danielle, he married his brother's wife. Danielle never mentioned her Hebrew name nor conversion to Judaism, and the family lived as practicing Catholics in London and Avignon.