Welcome to Gaia! ::

*He knelt down to the cracked stone floor tired, debris falling all around him splashing into various lava streams incinerating as the thick firey current rose. The end was iminent.
Clasping for the fallen Scythe on the ground the Siren/Assassin let out a breathy sigh. Hades was no where in sight, neither was Azrael. His memory was vaque, sketchy. A sea of speckled white dots flooded his vision. He collapsed to the gound with a thud, the warriors (Laiex) mail clanging upon impact. With his eyelids twitching heretically, the shaken hands of the newly combined focused in on the scythes handle. The handle of the Reapers blade, the handle of power. When his bloody fingers wrapped themselves around the ivory handle, the shaking of the underworld grew at catastrophic rates. The room in which Hades throne laid cracked in two and started to plummet to the boiling abyss.
Laiex' body now lay motionless and draped in blood. The Kilgorin Blade lay in his back, the Scythe in his hand, the opposing arm demonically posessed. All three of the judges perfectly crafted weapons of damnation lay around a mongrel Lord. The new lord. Sophus.*

*Dagoth landed on the roof opposite to the warehouse he had been sent to deal with, he crouched down low and almost hugged the tiles as he moved he watched with grate delight the comings and going of the sabbat. Trucks, cars and people flooded into the warehouse so kind of being meeting as he went to move a shiver rolled down his spine, something was happening back home he shrugged it off.

With one effotless leap he floated onto the next roof as the two guards builed the great doors closed with a metallic thud. Excellent they where locked in but dagoth had to be sure he could see their excape route first, moving to the back he noticed several small black cars waiting each with a driver and guard. There had to be some high rollers here, this would be the best and safest place to start drawing his sword from off his hips dagoth waited to get thier patterns down to a tee when he moved he wanted all in one.

A little clock went off in Dagoths head as he dropped from the roof, one of the guards glancing upwards felt nothing as the blade slid effortlessly between his eyes. Turning drawing the blade from guards skull dagoth spun beheaded the driver before using Celerity to advance on the small group that gathered to talk and smoke. A whirlwind of blood splattered the cars as Dagoth decapitated each of them, he smirked as these didnt burst into dust. Not kindred rolling the drivers over he noticed each had an Ankh tattoo'd on their chests, Roan would want to know about this.

Reaching into his boot dagoth produced a small knife from his boot and began the job of cutting the a perfect square of skin around the tattoo and removing it. He gave this slab of flesh a confused look before he began to heat it tanning the flash into a slip of leather, once he had finished with each driver he noticed a large back of weed in the pocket of one. Grabbing it a second empty baggy felt out withit smirking at the sheer luck of this he dropped the tanned flesh into each bag. Now came the fun part assualting the warehouse, what ever was going on it should be full swing by now.*

*Dagoth watched from the shadows he needed to proritise targets here, 20 or 30 sabbat stood in a large semi circle infront of a make shift stage of packing crates and webbing. The spoke noisily amungst themselves to concerned with what ever was about to happen to take notice of the environment around them. A hushed silence rippled through the crowd as someone climbed onto the stage, as Dagoth focused a spanish man stepped forward slightly his suit was prestine grey armani Dagoth noted.

He held himself with such respect that he must be a higher ranking member of the sabbat here than the other four people that shadowed him from further back on the stage. To his right someone was paying attention to the crowd watching their reactions and movements, this woman kept herself within perfect distance of looking out for the gentleman on the stage and to deal with the crowd. This however gave away her true nature she was the bodyguard someone dagoth need to dispatch quickly.*

My brothers and sisters, I gather you here to truely rejoice for Gehenna is apon us. Soon we shall bathe this world in the wrath of the Antediluvians and WE shall be the first to spill blood in this new offensive WE shall convert this land.

For too long we have been kept at bay clawing at the shadows, the Camarilla have grow fat and soft believing their control here is absolute. We shall show them otherwise for TONIGHT there shall be rebirth through flames!

*A roar erupted through the crowd they jumped hoot screech truely whipped up into a frenzy, as they grew quiet to allow the speaker to continue you slow methodical claps echoed from eveycorner off the room. Dagoth stepped forward out the shadows infront of the whole group, he was presented with snarling sabbat and a deeply worried spanish leader.*

I must say you really have a flair for speeches, however I like this place it has all my stuff init. Plus there is someone I really want you too meet and she will love you.

*Dagoth was unsure of this woman, she eminated a silent confidence as she circled dagoth looking for any sign of weakness in current stance. He watched her move she was as skilled at hiding her movements as well as he was, for those watching the two the first movement came with a blink of an eye. Their speed was equally matched the sound of clashing metal echo'd through the warehouse mvoing wall to wall.

Dagoth lept back, the womans swords bouncing off the concrete she smirked at him before charing back at him faster this time, her timing was amazing she seemed to see his action almost a full second before he did them. He felt the cold sting of her blade across his face followed by the warm trickle she however simply licked the blade rolling her tounge on his vitae.

This would have to end fast, a small flash of his true strength was needed before this became to long and gave the others time to flee. Turning Dagoth Through his sword at the spanish gentleman before using his god speed to bolt at her. Raising her swords into a defense stance the small group watching the two fighter gasped in horror.

Dagoths sword had pierced his targets heart mean while dagoth stood his the woman half way down his arm. Dagoth met her eyes the four golden dots in his screaming into her broken body, his burning wings in full form with a single flap Dagoth shot several burning feather towards his viewers. As each one screamed in horror the flames consuming their bodies, Dagoth dropped the woman to the floor*

Who are you? What clan are you from?
We are the true, your kind will return to the fold
I think not

*And with that Dagoth stomped his boot squarely into her head, he claimed her tattoo adding it with the others. Feeling his Phoenix powers slip away it might have been to much overkill but he couldnt risk loosing his mark. Pulling out his cell phone he called for a Camerilla clean up team, he wasnt concerned with teh collection and catalog of the warehouse he was however intrested in the man paralysed before him.

Placing him over his should Dagoth tapped him on the head with a child like grin, his night was about to get a whole lot worse for his lady wished to meet him and Dagoth would obey.*

As time gradually passed, Corbin's insight lead him the the heart of the structure, and it was asthough he was actually standing there himself, with this first person perspective of the massive cargo hold. Crates, cartons, iron containers, vehicles of so many description. Weapons, armor, and of course, soldiers.

In the middle of the room, stood rows and rows of soldiers, not all Cainite though about half or so of the five hundred maybe were. For the most part, Panders, the Sabbat's answer to the Caitiff. Before the rows of soldiers, sat in chairs were a number of dignities, all wearing suits, arms folded, cigars and wine in their hands as each had their bodyguards, although they themsel;ves weren't so far above the regular soldiers. At the end of the hall however, standing before all these men and women, were four men.

Two diginified men, one dressed in a suit, the other, in the military garbs of a Major.

"Ahh...Someone relatively important."

On the left of the man dressed in a suit, was a tall man, roughly seven foot in height, skin black as obsidian. With long pointed ears of fifteen inches, hair white as ivory left to freely cascade down his back, this monster wore bones as armor. Garou skulls over his shoulders, Naga jaws over his cheeks, and the toros bones as mantle, cloth iof an egyptian kind wrapped around his waist, a large, thick iron staff held in his right hand firmly.

To the right of the Major, stood another Cainite, not garbed as the others alike his counter-part. He wore the dressings of a samurai, black as night with various red eyes decorated with sharp focusing lines all about the left sleeve. The right arm rested at this Cainite's side, the right sleeve dangling about his waist to reveal that under these garments, he was wrapped entirely in bandages. With a masamune at his left hip, this one wore a crimson japanese demons mask over his face, red eyes dimly glowing inside the eyes, as striking red hair sprouted in long spikes from his head jutting out behind him.

"That, has to be the special forces guard the kine mentioned...Seems there are two of them here, though."

As Corbin's currently invoked discipline art allowed for him to not only see, but HEAR distant events, he found himself 'walking in' on the middle of a speach, being given by the suited man.

"And so, despite the seperate meeting being assailed by the Camarilla agents, we are still moving ahead just fine. These two, Tatsu, and Victor are mere samples of the agents that we have inserted into the Camarilla territories, and compared to some of them, these two, are still fledglings. Make no mistake though, these old, practiced clan members, are far more effective, then the Panders used in the past, such as most of yourselves among the soldiers."

As the suited man went on, sounding more and more like a kine by the second, the bone wearer suddenly quirked a brow, and turned to the masked Cainite, whisper so as not to interrupt the speach being given.

"Tatsu. i smell a rat."

Turning his mask to the fellow guard, the pair then in unisen turned their eyes to the far end of the hall, as the bone barer narrowed his eyes.

"There. Clarvoyance."

As the bone barer spoke, Corbin cocked a brow, and the dim red glow within the eye holes of the demon mask, suddenly turned to a pair of pin point dots, flaring with a crimson glow.

.:Antitribu!:.

.:Malkavian!:.

Corbin's mind suddenly felt the tremendous pressure weighing down on it, as the Malkavian in the mask attempted to force his entry into Corbin's mind.

"Crap, Dementation!"

Corbin then released his art, and his vision returned to normal as he gave a violent shake of the head.

"Well, no use in hiding anymore. Better go introduce myself."

With that, Corbin's body errupted, disbanding from itself to create a thick cloud of mist, that then whistled under the door before him on the deck, and began racing through hallways heading downward.

Passing guard after guard, along with various other staff there to deal with the very runnin g of the vessel, each one suffered the same fate, their bodies rapidly decaying upon contact with the mist, before their bodies collapsed to the floor, shrivvled and dried out, Torpor taking hold of them.

Before long, the mist ruptured a pipe in the cieling of the cargo hold, and the mist poured out to gather and reform as the diablerist at the back end of the hall, his eyes fixed on the already prepared congragation before him. Soldiers lined up, some laying on the ground, behind them, rows on their knees, and behind them, soldiers standing, all of which pointing their rifles at the intruder.

"Cut him down men, FIRE!"

With this order from the major, automatic gunfire boomed in the iron hall, rounds skipping off the wall behind Corbin, and the floor under him, alike his very body, as Fortitude came into play.

"Sorry lads, guess I was late for the metting."

Smiling politely, Corbin's eye then darted across to his left, as the Bone barer suddenly appeared from thin air, staff coming down from over head. Raising his hands, Corbin caught the weapon in a clap without much trouble, though this didn't seem to effect the Bone barer's mood, in fact, the one discerned to be victor, smirked. The reason for this became clear, as a restrictive feeling came about Corbin's body. The feeling of somthing wrapping around his whole body so tightly it could crush a mortal man.

Moments later, the masked Malkavian appeared much like Victor had behind Corbin, various bandages and chains extending from his body to wrap about Corbin, pulling his legs together, and his ars to his sides.

"I'm afraid, you've come in over your head, Camarillan spy. Young pup, of the DeSeer clan."

Victor then released his weapon, and with a mighty thud, pressed his palms to Corbin's chest, a sinister gleem in his ivory eyes.

"A Tzimisce?!"

With that, and a wicked grin from the Tzimisce, Corbin's armor of bone was turned against him, as the calcium and keratin was expanded from its compressed form to create saw like blades and spikes that errupted from under the surface, shredding Corbin's entire body.

As vitae and flesh sprayed about the pair of guards, a second Corbin rose up from the floor behind the Tzimisce.

"I've faced far greater members of both your clans. If you cant even surpass them, then your nothing before me."

Turning his head, the Tzimisce went wide eyed.

"A homunculose(sp?)?!"

The Malkavian too, turned a dazed glare, as Corbin's right hand was already drawn back, palm open before it shot forward, palm strike beckoning the cracking and poping sound of bone to come from Victor's back, as the palm pushed flesh and bone forward with it, and a lump was forced forward in the Tzimisce's chest due to the sheer instant force taken. With a breathless grunt from the bone wearer, potence sent him sailing across the room straight into the iron wall with a crack that echoed through the entire cargo hold, and left the Tzimisce to slide back down to land on his back on the floor.

Having watched his body guard comrade fly by, the Malkavian then turned his head back just in time to catch Corbin's drop to the floor on his haunches. Corbin's right leg then extended as he turned, sweeping the masked Cainite's feet out from under him, and as he fell backwards, Corbin's tail came down in the manner of a striking scorpion, though instead of with the intent to pierce, with the flat spaded end exposed to hit like a hammer. Potence enhanced blunt force then hit the Malkavian's face, shattering the mask, before the back of his head was drilled back down into the floor with a thud much the same as that which the Tzimisce had created.

"This..This cant be...Were they really so very frail?!"

Turning his eye on the stupified suited kine, Corbin turned his body, pistol being set back into its holster as he examined the various expressions among the troops before him still.

"Not quite."

With a smirk, the major raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers. Instantly, two ghostly figures appeared between Corbin, and the rows of troops. The two figures awfully familiar.

Cocking a brow, Corbin sighed.

"Your a Necromancer then? So that, would make it Summon wraith."

Closing his eye, Corbin slowly exhailed, raising his right hand up from the side, as the red arrow circle glyph on the top of his hand began dimly glowing. Next, he slowly raised the left hand, the same occuring on that hand, however the glyph was different, as black ink seeped through the white of the glove from his markings to then create a far, far more intricate design. ( http://www.spelwerx.com/image/magicksymbolwheel.gif ) An extreme Grimoire spell circle complete with countless sigil, glyph, and rune combinations.

With the right hand held open, palm on the chest over his color bone, left the same, though just under the right hand, symbols on both gloves glowing with blood red, Corbin's eye opened once more, white throughout. As his eye opened, completely whited out, the symbols on his gloves vanished, and were replaced with eyes the same as his real eye. An incredible weight suddenly hit the minds of the many foes before him, eachone, even the summoned wraiths cupping their ears, or clutching their heads as they shut their eyes tightly, as if an earsplitting noise rattled their brains.

"Necromancy fourth ring, Grimoire advance. Command Wraith."

The three eyes, perfectly lined up vertically then narrowed, and focused on the pair of wraiths the major had summoned, the pain leaving them, then moments later, the rest.

The the soldiers gathered their senses, an entire row was decapitated at once, as a spiked chain whipped across the line from the Malkavian wraith.

"Major Irvine! Whats the meaning of this?!"

"This isn't my doing you bleeding imbosile! He has dominated, and ceased control of my wraiths!"

As the Malkavian wraith continued swinging and hurling chains about at the soldiers, and the other moved about the masses crafting bones, flesh and organs, Corbin lowered his hands, the effects still remaining though, and began a slow, steady pace towards the enslaut.

Ducking a chain as more soldiers were dispatched, the Major turned to find Corbin walking calmly through the mess towards him, and paniced, drawing his pistols out and emptying his clips.

"Get back you freak! Your no Cainite! Your a monster!"

As round after round hit Corbin in the arms, legs, torso and head, the wounds along with clothing regenerating near instantly, the two serpents emmerged from his neck and hissed fiercly, the red snapping out to latch its maw onto the back of a too near soldier, crushing the skull and brain held within.

"So right. I'm a Diablerist Cainite. Eleven years old, though with the blood and knowledge of centuries old Cainites. Now, heel."

Corbin's right hand shot up from his side, palm barely an inch from the major's face as the pain returned to him. The major then suddenly collapsed to his knees, and his arms went flacid, pistols rattling across the floor as the flesh of both arms and legs turned rotten, the flesh marred with black veins all over and patches of festers.

"Tell me..Everything you know."

Corbin then invoked a variety of disciplines, and the major's eyes whited out alike Corbin's, and within half a minute, Corbin had learnt everything the major had to offer of interest. Corbin then left the major, looking the brain dead vegetable as he began stepping to the opposite end of the hold once more, leaving the wraiths to finish the few remaining soldiers.

"Now, if I were to leave this station, only more Sabbat would come to reclaim, and re-stock it with agents. I suppose it cant be helped then."

With that, Corbin turned to face the massacre, and rolled his left wrist before placing his hand against the wall.

"Ira of profundum"

As the white eye on his glove gave off a glow, the grimoire pentagramic circle that had been on the glove, appeared around his hand on the wall he set his palm on. Verious symbols and characters on the design lit up brighter then the rest, before a line was created connecting them all in order, sigil connect the dots.

As the circle then vanished, the entire station began shaking, deep, bassey sounds rumbling throughout the entire facility. Corbin's body promptly vanished, and within minutes, the sea around the station turned into a tremendous maelstrom, sucking the station down under the waters, followed by a series of catastrophic lightning strikes that hit dead center of the whirlpool, and sent pulses of elctricity through the station which created explosions, melting due to heat, and eventually, complete destructiion, sending the structure to pieces inside the maelstrom.

Rain. Corbin's feelings were mixed when it came to the rain. Sometimes, it was a favoured gift, like at the end of a great battle. Though sometimes, it was a wretched curse, dampening his senses some and making a general nuisance of itself, soaking his clothes through along with miscelaneous items such as his cigars. This occasion, was of the latter respect.

As the door to a run down old tavern on the outskirts of town burst open, flames, smoke and debris flooding out, the same pouring out from the windows, a lone figure emmerged from the wreck that had seemed to spontaniously explode.

Garbed in an assortment of leathers along with a version of Roan's maroon catsuit top, though fitted for a male, and wearing a plain, rather ordinary mask split into two different colours, The diablerist walked cassualy from the flames inside and entered the street, his clothing and body un-marred by the flames. Turning back to the demolished hunters check point, the diablerist loosened his grip around an arm he had been carrying, before tossing it back over his right shoulder into the fires.

"Wretched hunters. Slayers, bounty hunters. Dogs the lot of them."

With that muffled statement behind his mask, the Cainite turned his head, the red lenses of his shades under the mask passing the direction of this new commer to the town, and with a barely aknowledging huff, he turned on his spurred heels, tail writhing in the puddles behind him as he started off down the street, in the direction of another tavern.