Welcome to Gaia! ::

Matthias listened in silence as the boy relayed his message to Dara. He knew the names as well as anyone else. If one didn't know the names, they could only be a newborn or an outsider. The thought that the two had disappeared was somewhat disconcerting, but worse things had happened in the past. Of course, the times Matthias thought of were before Dara, and during his youth; merely faded memories of the "atrocities" vampires could perform.

He nodded confidently as Dara's attention fell to him. "Don't worry about my business," he replied quietly. "It'll be just fine. Matters of kin are far more important. I'll call in sick. Influenza. As for this... expedition. Do you have any others in mind that could help us? We'll surely need more than just us two." Whatever the odds were in the end though, Matthias would be content. He would get his fair share of action, should a conflict arise. He always did. He just wished had one of his weapons from home in his hands. Perhaps the war maul, or barbed hammer. They were his favorites, but honestly, anything would do. Hand-to-hand was exhilirating, but he doubted the vampires would dare play fairly, however "honorable" they thought they were.

Matthias waited in silence, his gazing gliding slowly over the many werewolves in the area. Those that met his gaze carried curious or confused or unsettled expressions. They were all understandable, but Matthias did not alter his unreadable face. His perusal of the clan ended when he heard and smelled the approach of Dara. Pola and Drack were two others that Matthias could easily recognize by name. He had a habit of remembering the names and faces of his elders, especially the true warriors. Pola and Drack were both true warriors in Matthias' mind's eye, and hence were well remembered. He gave a bow of his head as they came near.

And when, Dara later turned to him for his input on their plan of action, he smirked faintly. "I'll take the rear guard. It would be best if you weren't ambushed from the rear either." His position was obvious. He agreed in keeping Dara safe, even if it was against her wishes. Everyone knew she was not weak, and that the loss of her would create a chaos the Lucroi pack was not capable of undertaking at this point in time. If Dara had a mate, or an heir it would be different, but alas this was not so. Therefore, common logic did support keeping Dara in the middle of the group as they travelled. "Is there anything else that needs tending to before we leave? If not, I suggest we move now. The sooner, the better."

Matthias was comforted that Dara had accepted defeat, although he was slightly dismayed at the indignant manner in which she displayed her discomfort at being overruled. Still, they were all partly human. So he let it slide out of his mind. He followed the trio quietly, keeping his eyes peeled, and often looking back over his shoulder to check for anything he may have missed. There was never anything out of the usual. At least, nothing until they arrived in the graveyard. Once inhaled, Matthias gave a forceful snort, pushing the air from his lungs. He knew the smell well enough, and was almost appalled that Dara had yet to recognize it. Well, he wouldn't spoil the surprise. He kept his silence, and moved closer to the group, hoping to get a slightly better view. It seemed likely that wherever the source was, it couldn't be far...

Matthias could feel himself tense slightly and he sighed, trying to relax. It helped, but didn't solve his problem. His nerves were on edge, and he was suddenly eager to start a fight. This was a part of himself he both enjoyed and hated; enjoyed because he couldn not deny that he enjoyed the act of brawling; hated because it required much self-control to keep himself from becoming irrational and idiotic like the many adolescent werewolves he had berated for being so brazen as to attempt assaulting him in his steadily inclining age. Thirty-seven wasn't all that old...

As they stopped in the graveyard, Matthias gazed past the three ahead of him to spy the scene displayed before him. It was a grim and enraging sight to behold. Matthias' right hand was clenched into a tight fist and shaking like mad. His desire to crush someone with his bare hands had been exponentially increased upon seeing how barbaric the vampires were toward their enemies. Entirely dishonoring the very existence of those two... Matthias was ready for the battle he knew would soon begin. And as if on cue to his thoughts, an arrow whizzed by. He spun around to resume his job as rearguard. Three vampires stood in rank, cutting the werewolves off from the direction they had come. It was an expected move. Matthias's attack was not. After allowing the vampires a few cocky steps toward his position, the werewolf lunged forward over the small headstones and his fist met squarely with the middle vampire's temple. Caught by surprise, the vampire stumbled back, and tripped over a grave marker, landing on his a**. The two other vampires, both youthful and brash by their appearances, attacked Matthias simultaneously. He leapt away and they nearly had a head-on collision; one scratched the other's face, while receiving a large cut across his chest in return. Both yelped in surprise and nursed the injuries momentarily.

His shock attack had created the effect Matthias had desired. These three would be wary when dealing with the werewolf from now on. Matthias hoped they would be too timid, but expected the worst.

He glanced over his shoulder momentarily to get an idea of the situation, and make sure nothing of importance was happening behind his back. Most important of all, he had to make sure Dara was near, and in good health. So far, so good...

Matthias was frustrated to see Dara suddenly running off, and his opponents did what they could to take advantage of the moment. The one that had tripped over the headstone lunged, looking eager to get his revenge. Matthias stopped him short with another backhand to the vampire's temple. Dazed, he tawdled unevenly then collapsed on headstone, knocking the wind out of himself. Matthias had no time to admire his handiwork or even follow up, though, as the other two again tried to attack him simultaneously. The vampire to his left attempted a leaping kick while the other merely launched a clawed hand toward Matthias's throat.

He leapt back first, putting himself out of arm's reach, then jumped into the air and placed a strong kick in the airborne vampire's chest. Surprised and winded, he had no alternative; the vampire was knocked into his partner, and the two crashed into a grave, breaking one vampire's back, and knocking over the stone. Matthias exhaled forcefully through his nostrils, angered by their disgraceful actions.

The first vampire was attempting to stand now. Matthias pounced on him, and after a short scrabble, snapped his neck. Then he returned focus to the two bumbling, youthful vampires. They had collected themselves and were standing now, both looking hesitant. Matthias acted first, lunging for one vampire. He struck the boy in the throat with his mid-knuckles, shutting the windpipe. Then he used the gasping, terrified vampire as a shield from the other. Needless to say, it was effective. The second vampire, unprepared for such an action, had struck out toward Matthias's throat with vicious nails that could easily slice through skin; they had no problem, then, as they pierced the vampire-turned-shield's throat. He could breathe again, but now he was going to drown in his own blood. Matthias shoved the dieing vampire forward and tackled the other, a look of helpless fear on his victim's face as the werewolf gave his neck a ferocious twist.

Then he stood, and looked in the direction of the others, wondering how Pola and Drack and Dara were faring. If any of them had died, he would be very sore about the whole ordeal. None of them should have died; Even the bodyguards should have been more aware and better prepared.

Matthias found that he had been right to be distrusting of Dara's decision to throw herself into the fray so carelessly. Now she was double-teamed, and by a pair of obviously skilled fighters. He rushed foward, putting every ounce of energy behind his charge. He shoulder-tackled one vampire, tossing him several feet away. Then he made an about-face, glaring at the remaining vampire. "Leadership isn't all about physical prowess," he declared, as if he had been part of the one-sided conversation the whole time. He threw a heavy punch. "It's about intelligence, strategy, and the ability to obtain your people's loyalty." He launched a forceful kick at the vampire's head. "But you barbarians wouldn't know about that, would you?" His voice was drenched with venom. It was very clear that Matthias despised these beings, and he would also despise them, even when they all returned to ash. They were that despicable.

Matthias remained in a fighting position, sighing softly. After a pause, he smirked. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. He looked down at the vampire he had brutally dazed. Slowly, he crouched down, grabbed the vampire by his collar and lifted him to his feet. "Heh. You act as if I care... Well, I'd like as little bloodshed as possible, although the idea of prying your fangs out of your mouth and slitting your throat with them is appealing, I don't think you're worth the effort. So I'll offer you a bargain: This shitbag for mine. Take it or leave it?" Matthias knew it was a crazy gamble, but he knew it was one he had to play. If he was convincing enough to make Dara's life unworthy of fighting for, he figured he would have a better chance of getting her back. If push came to shove, however, he would slay these long-toothed freaks of the night in an instant. There were no doubts about that.