[center][img]http://s8.postimg.org/yxi027ag5/The_Cowl_Word_Art.jpg[/img][/center] "Gentlemen, I am very glad you could all make it to this little gathering." The Cowl's smooth baritone stretched over the small assembly of his trusted lieutenants, men and women of different Occupations and roles in the city of Lost Haven, many being in surprisingly high positions in the administrative and political ladders. They were gathered around a large mahogany dining table, complete with an elegant embroidered tablecloth of the finest silks, surrounded by paintings, candles, and expensive atmosphere. The location of such a fancy dining room was unknown, most of these men and women were brought here by inivitation alone, meaning those present were the only ones who knew where this place was. Many had brought loyal subordinates as well, who stood away from the table as their superiors ate and conversed, watching as the meeting began to take place. However, that did not mean this place was not overseen, in the other rooms lurked those most loyal to The Cowl and to the Shroud, those who were dubbed "Shades" under Cowl's direct supervision. These men and women wore outfits similar to The Cowl himself, draped in hoods and masks to conceal their identities, master assassins and mercenaries hired and trusted directly by the Cowl, and hence are found at the corners of this meeting. "It...was a pleasure, Mister Cowl." Piqued Julius, the City Councilman that was already visited by The Cowl personally. "But you did not really specify why this meeting was taken place...and while this may be impolite, many at this table have matters we need to attend to. I know you have a..." Julius wiped his brow with his napkin, taking a shaky breath as he spoke. "Lavish way to conduct things, but we need a purpose to be here." "Of course, I was just getting to that, dear Julius." The Cowl replied, palming a drink with his free hand. "But I do appreciate your need to attend to what you were assigned to." Without making any motions, The Cowl called to one of the many men behind him. "Are all the new deeds in order, by the way?" "Y...yes." Smith replied, scratching his chin as he held a PDA in front of him, stepping briskly to the left of The Cowl's chair as he spoke. "Everything that was destroyed in D-Day is either purchased or soon to be purchased and repaired by either members in this gathering or by subsidiary companies owned by members in this gathering." "Then we are one step closer to having our old stranglehold of this City," With a strange elegance and smoothness to his movements, he stood in his chair, beginning to pace at the head of the table, slowly moving clockwise down to the attendees. "One that we should have been able to keep, if I am being honest." As he walked, many of the guests began to slump over their seats and stare at the table when the shadowy man strode by them, attempting to avoid eye contact. “I take it by the silence you all think I am upset with the current state of affairs.” The Cowl asked to the increasingly disturbed crowd. With a small, affirming chuckle, he raised his glass. “You would be wrong. While I am a little disappointed, be assured I do not think it is your fault for the current state of affairs. There could have been no way for any of you to predict superhumans in spandex zipping around the city doing battle with demonic horrors in our skies, and anyone who had would have been called ridiculous.” It seemed all the guests breathed a sigh of relief, The Cowl raised a single finger as he continued his stride around the table. “However, now that these events have become known, this does not mean we can continue how we always have.” He paused in his stride, eyeing the guests once more as he placed a hand along the table, leaning forward to bring his hood under the light of the overhead chandelier. “We are no longer competing with detectives and lawyers. The old gangs and cops are no longer our primary concern.” The guests, now all fully aware of the importance of this conversation, were maintaining all eyes on the hooded figure, leering at him as he made the round back to the head of the table. “No, now we are dealing with beings that we could not even fathom within the past years. We deal with beings that can fly, lift entire buildings, and shoot lasers out of their eyes. We deal with people who cannot be pierced by bullets, nor can they be bought with simple bribes.” He stopped back at the head of the table, turning to face his onlookers. “We are competing against what could be considered gods.” “And...how would you say we deal with such a threat?” Came another voice, a street-level thug by the name of Jack “Two-Blades” Munson. “I got my boys on the street gettin’ their shit kicked in, and nothin’ to show for it, capes are takin’ out cells left and right!” “Calm yourself, Mr. Munson. I assure you we can outmaneuver these ‘capes’ as you call them, but it will take patience and resources. Everyone has weak points, and it is up to this consortium to find them.” The Cowl gestured to the gathering as he spoke. “For now, we can only watch and wait, gathering as much property, intel, and power as we can.” “And how’s that going to help?” “All in good time, Mr. Munson. All in good time.” The Cowl said, leaning onto the table. “For now, let me assure you, that the Shroud will hold in this time of peril.” He raised his glass, signalling the rest of the table to rise and salute The Cowl in a toast. “And this city will remember exactly what kind of people they're dealing with.” The crowd, all raising their glasses, responded in turn, all chanting in one unanimous tone. "May the Shroud hide us all."