The grim crescent moon shows face,
A sickly yellow sickle of the night,
Peeking through the heavens grace,
Waning away the waxen hours bright.

"Gather enough monkeys and given enough time, they too will produce the Bard's Work." Muttered Bedivere under his breath.

Here were the hundred monkeys. All gibbering and jabbering about who has the biggest. A show of politics, intrigue and fine manipulation. Normally, Bedivere would leap into the fray here, but the arrival of so many interruptions had already began to undermine his authority. That, and the fact that many of the vampires gathered here are his elder, and his own power is merely brought from being under the shadow of a greater force which was his siress who had all but disappeared from the world in her isolation. The Battle began as the flurry of words and opinions flung by, aimed like bullets to kill. So let us begin with some friendly fire.

"Gabriel. I speak to you in earnest. You are in my seat. Lest you be merely an illusion and neither present nor in my seat, I would dare say we best not attempt to figure out for ourselves using the scientific method shall we? Or perhaps you would rather me use a Razor which belongs to Occam, or rather my own blade? Stand aside and behind your façade of the mind all you want, but read mine Gabriel, and you will see that I can see straight through you." A passive-aggressive suggestion, back perhaps by a cold stare at the supposedly drunken old blood. Reading Bedivere's mind would not end so well for the trickster, given the amount of pure anger channeled towards Gabriel amongst other things which he would let the old blood be privy to should he delve too far. It was almost an open invitation really for Gabriel to learn just how much Bedivere wanted Gabriel disposed of as he was far too much of a wildcard to be of use for the greater good of Vampire kind.

Then he turned his attention back to the assembly.

"The Old Churl brings up a good point. Humans rule the planet? Technology alone is not the reason why, but also the strength of Mortality. You see my Lords and Ladies, Old Gabriel is in fact correct in stating that when pushed to the wall, the humans would rather band together like cornered dogs to bark and bite than to go quietly into the night. For this reason they will win, and for this reason they have won. For look at us, we Old Bloods who each stand for the various bloodlines of our Kind. Look how we squabble amongst ourselves, each vying for greater control over another. This is why they will win for they are Mortal, to our immortality. 

We have grown weak in our immortality, and began to do nothing more than be content, but each seeking more power for his or herself knowing it will last through the ages. We plot against each other, and with each other against each other, a twisted society of backstabbing ingrates and foul friendly fiends. Imagine now, if we were mortal we would do the same certainly, but no longer would we be in it alone for when the humans come hunting us down, they should find them striking against our bloodkins. Yet, our immortality has made us weak as we fear not death per say, but mortality in itself. We only desire to outlast the rest of us, every vampire for his or herself. Is this not true?

Look here, at Gabriel, far older than most present here, and perhaps dare I say more powerful. But look at what his unlife has come to? Nothing more than a game for the individual, a boring existence relieved temporarily by wine and probably Cheap women. Should we follow in his example and be nothing more than a living corpse which, has no purpose left in the world? Should we be so concerned over our own lives that we do not actually live it beyond preserving it? What good is a fire which does not provide heat nor light but only consumes. I pity vampires as he, for given his amount of power, he does nothing to achieve his ends.

In contrast now, Lady Natasha here, Her Father, Dracula. Yes, while he was young, he was indeed a vampire lord of vision. He sought to expand his borders, his influence and his control. His children, Natasha if you would not mind, carry on his legacy of blood, and to this day see to their late father's goal. Now, I am certain that The Old Coward here Gabriel would use him as an example to the end result of scaring the herd, but I now as him, how long before the Herd realize their own Strength? How long do we have then to hide and be hunted? What is one year of life to anyone here? Speak now, if you have not lived long enough? Speak now if you still count the years and days to your unlife. Shall they end our lives in a year Gabriel makes the bet? I would take his wager with my own life to his, such that it would please him if even in his long-awaited death does he get the last laugh.

What say you Gabriel you old Codger? Care to put your life where you mouth is? Or would you rather shrink away and let the Vampire Council see your Cowardice beyond your veil of deception?"

One dynamic speech, executed.