[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/eQatbUC.png[/img][h1]Conrad van der Vegte and...[/h1][/center][hr][hr] [code]Nuts & Bolts Autoshop[/code] [hr] The space they were in was far from [i]cosy[/i], but it served well enough, the back office of an autoshop that gave them some privacy away from the clusterfuck that was the last twenty-four hours. "So, Judas [i]is[/i] dead?!" The voice had a rasp, a combination of excessive tobacco use and a recent chest infection. "Yeah," the bearer of bad news said, a thirty-something-year-old with a shaven scalp and mechanic's overalls, delivering said news to his boss, "Cops got involved, none of the guys you sent came back. Don, Jay and Lonnie are dead. Bob's girl at the coroner's office said someone wasted Big Vic, too, not pretty either. And you already heard about the shit with Joe Skinner." "Fuck," his boss grunted, then made a circling gesture with his fingers, "C'mon Eddie, don't hold out on me." "We ain' seen the others either since last night. Maggie, Val an' El, Dean." "And cheetahman?" "No, apparently took off." "Shame," the disappointment in his tone betrayed a certain [i]hope[/i] that the night's events had disposed of the subject in question, "So, [i]how[/i] did Judas get wasted? The cops do that?" "I dunno, there was some trouble at the Vee-Vee, someone trashed the place, I sent the guys like you said, and then " Conrad let out a sigh, took a swig from his flask, then began to massage his temples. After a moment's pause, he continued. "Judas? Please, god - no." His tone was flat, making his insincerity clear. "Vic V and the others? [i]Yeah.[/i]" He jabbed a knee into the underside of his desk, making its whole contents rattle, "There's no walkin' around that, s'a loss but they ain' exactly gonna be able to help us now, are they?" He slammed a palm on the table for emphasis. "What about Valjean?" Eddie asked, "You know that Judas and him were bunked up, man's gonna make a play if the cops didn't get him." "Ah, fuck 'em, Jeanie can suck Shaytuh for all I fucken' care, and his sister too." Conrad hocked, leaned off to one side, then spat in a nearby paper bin. "Fuckin' methheads and traitors is shit we can do without." Conrad was not the [i]prime[/i] of the Wolfpack; a man of middling age, with a widow's peak and lampshade mustache that both bore a salt & pepper tone. A vague stubble clung to his cheeks and chin, and his eyes were darkened around the edges, a consequence of missing sleep. To keep the cold off, he was wearing a jacket from some military surplus store, and had downed enough coffee to stay warm and awake that he was probably going to fill a bathtub with piss at some point. However, for all intents and purposes, he was probably the only one left that had somewhere close to the numbers and strength to hold ground. Eddie finally broke the silence, "What's that mean for us?" "Shit, you been paying attention Eddie? Look around you," Conrad gestured off to one side, "Judas is dead. The others aren't worth shit on my boots. We [i]are[/i] the Wolfpack." Conrad snapped his fingers, to make the point. "Look, I gotta get my head around a few things. Tell the guys not to fuck around for a couple days, I don't want the cops breathing down our necks while we [i]reconsolidate[/i]." Once he was sure he was alone, he let out another sigh, and planted both palms against his face. The reality was grim, although he [i]wanted[/i] to see an opportuniy. Judas was dead. The rest of his Wolfpack's [i]real[/i] muscle were dead or MIA. A few of Conrad's people, the ones he could [i]trust[/i], had been taken out too, and the whole thing had started when his lady's dumbass kid-brother had been found [i]painted[/i] across the walls of a private room in the Veni Vedi Veni. As it stood, he reckoned he had a chance at holding onto a chunk of whatever was left. Not [i]everything[/i] - he knew that there was no holding in to that. The methhead, her brother and the carpetbagger were all dead end for varying reasons, some more obvious than others. Opening his flask, he used what remained to top off his coffee and downed the whole thing, then reached for his cellphone.[hr] [right][b][code]The Wolf’s Den.[/code][/b][/right][hr][center][hider=Make Them Dead - clipping.][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubtUNDTRfwg[/youtube][/hider][hr][hr][/center] Conrad was instructed to travel deep in the woods on the very outskirts of St. Portwell… he was told to drive down a specific highway and stop at a speed limit sign. He was told to travel to the woods to the left of the sign, and he would enter a series of different symbols drawn on trees… Norse Pagan symbols. Conrad was instructed to follow specific symbols, in a specific order… until he reached a bush at the base of a hill. He was instructed to go through that bush… and on the other side of it was a makeshift walkway that was dug out of the side of the hill. Then there was a large metal door with a hatch on the other side. It was the Wolf’s Den, a secret bunker created by Kaiser Draeger to act as a hiding place in the event everything went wrong that only the [i]top[/i] members of Das Sonnenrad knew about. Apprehensively, he rapped his knuckles on the access hatch The hatch opened by a slide… and then what had to be a little boy on the other side spoke. “... Are you our guest?” “Yeah, I'm Walt Disney.” “... We will send the Dragonslayer out.” Strangely enough, two little boys spoke at the same time. He muttered something beneath his breath. “Your boss's expecting me, yeah.” “Name.” The two boys said at the same time. “We are expecting two different guests today.” “It's van der Vegte,” he grunted back, “Are we gutte?” The hatch closed, and after a few locks were undone, the door slid open, and the first thing Conrad saw were [url=https://i.imgur.com/2nTQ9Ol.jpg]two eerie, twelve-year-old boys[/url], one standing with the door open, and the other next to him. Staring at him with their dark eyes… and behind them was an imposing figure, a [url=https://i.imgur.com/uaE1CHC.jpg]massive black knight armor[/url] that heaved a [url=https://i.imgur.com/OdBtlGk.jpeg]massive black sword[/url] over his shoulder. Behind them all was a long tunnel going downwards, lit by lights. They stared at Conrad before they said, “Come in; Berlioz is expecting you.” “Come play with us, Conrad, forever and ever and ever.” It was a statement half-whispered, inaudible for anyone but him. Instead, he offered them a nod and continued onwards. The two gestured for Conrad to go in front while they used all of their little might to shove the door closed, and then they walked down the tunnel with the strange suit of armor bringing up the rear. They walked down the makeshift wooden stairs to another hatch… a large, imposing metal door that the two boys quickly opened. On the other side of the door was a large concrete room illuminated by lights dangling overhead, powered by a network of wires. The two led Conrad to one of the rooms to the right, a massive square concrete room with a large oval-shaped table and plenty of chairs… only four were inhabited. The Twins stood by one side of the door, and the strange suit of armor stood on the other. The person standing on the table's head was [url=https://i.imgur.com/WhorkUN.jpg]a tall, bald man wearing a black suit and white shirt.[/url] He narrowed his eyes at Conrad as he said, “My dear friend, Conrad,” He started, “It is great of you to join us. I extended my invitation to all of the remnants of Kaiser Draeger’s followers… why did it take you so long to accept my invitation?” “Give me [i]some[/i] credit,” Conrad shrugged, “I was biding time until I had enough people to [i]take back[/i] what we had. Didn't have a crystal ball for when Judas and his shitbirds would be outta the way, but we got it now.” “Judas…?” Berlioz tilted his head. “... This profligate has no place among us, Berlioz,” An [url=https://i.imgur.com/9lh6pdH.jpg]older woman wearing a bright red dress[/url] spoke, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her wine. "Look, [i]someone[/i] had to keep lights runnin' when K-D dropped out on us, what the fuck do you expect me to say?” Conrad's gaze flared, “I gotta eat too, so I did what I had to. You think I [i]liked[/i] working with that fuckin' carpetbagger that Judas sent for collections?" He let the pause hang, "No. But I kept faith with the cause. You and me, we play this right, Portwell is [i]ours[/i] and we can clear out the trash." Berlioz stood up, and placed his fingertips together as he mused, “St. Portwell…” He started, “... The touch of the subhuman horde has tainted it… this whole universe. We have no interest in ‘saving’ this wasteland.” He let his words hang in the air. “My organization seeks to find our paradise… [i]Thule[/i], a world in which the [i]subhumans[/i] have never touched.” “Yeah, yeah-” Conrad said, “I get that. The Pacific Northwest is still our gateway to that world. I'm just realistic, Berlioz. I [i]know[/i] history's written by the victors and alla’ that bullshit, and I know we're on the right side, but… look at us. You wanna spend the next twenty years holed up here when we could be taking our dues?” “With whom?” Berlioz answered as he leaned forward and put his fingertips together. “What [i]exactly[/i] is your plan? And tell me [i]exactly[/i] where it lines up with [i]our[/i] plans?” “I mean, uh-” Conrad was cut off mid-answer. “In case you didn’t realize!” A [url=https://i.imgur.com/730qTKR.jpeg]young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes[/url] spoke up, “We’re like five people!” “Easy, Paige,” Berlioz said. “I got reliable cash flow comin’ in,” Conrad gestured with his hands, fingers half-cocked to form a gun shape, “ A couple of places that bring in business. With Judas outta the way, that’s ours, easy. That means no more [i]hiding[/i]. I want in on your plans. All I’m askin’ for is the [i]means[/i] to back things up.” He slipped a hand into his coat pocket, which prompted the Dragonslayer to step forward for a moment - presumption of a threat. That made him flinch, so he stopped, looked to Berlioz for approval, then tugged it back out once he gave the nod. Between his thumb and index finger was a cartridge, NATO 5.56 caliber, one any veteran would associate with the AR-15 and its family of rifles. “I’ve got the numbers. I got the guns, too. I got some Thorall to clean out a Nat-Guard depot for us a few months back. What I [i]don’t[/i] have is the kinda power that Judas’ pets and the fuckin’ shitbirds from last night can haul around. Jean and his junkie sister, plus that cocksucker from the jungle. Do I [i]really[/i] gotta remind you what kinda problems Shayton brings just by being on our doorstep?” “Of [i]cooooooooourse![/i]” An [url=https://i.imgur.com/IL2MrZJ.jpg] sixty-something man with greying hair[/url] spoke up. “You want us to participate in your petty gang drama!” Berlioz didn’t flinch or move an inch as he stared Conrad down, “Conrad, I know you have no way of knowing this, but can you guess who is on their way right now, ready to offer the deal of a lifetime?” The man threw his arms up. “Blake Schmidt,” Berlioz answered. “He wants to employ [i]us[/i] as his Paranormal security force for him and his colleagues… We’d be working under the subhumans, but tell me something...” Berlioz leaned back in his chair and said, “... Which deal would [i]you[/i] take? Getting millions of dollars or helping a con artist take over a petty street gang?” “[I]Bullshit.[/i] And I resent that phrasing.” “Answer the question.” “I'll take your point, but if you're looking for a show of force…” Conrad let the answer hang, outstretching both palms, “Level with me, Berlioz.” “I have been,” Berlioz calmly replied. “This. Whole. Time.” “The real question is why you insist on wasting our time, profligate!” The older woman said, “Those who fight over trash just end up in the landfill themselves!” “What, that's it?” Conrad exclaimed, “I'm offering you [i]actual[/i] warm bodies; you're leaving me with my dick in my hands?! Throw me a bone here for chrissake.” “You’re probably used to getting left like that anyway,” Paige chuckled. At this point, Berlioz got up from his chair and placed his hands behind his back as he walked over to Conrad, “Let me tell you something: Nathaniel… Kaiser Draeger…” He paused as he glanced at the Dragonslayer, “... He had ambition but an oh-so-small scope to it. So, his ambition was [i]useless[/i] as he just could [i]not[/i] see beyond St. Portwell.” Berlioz let his words hang in the air, “He could only see St. Portwell, and only St. Portwell. While he had power for a time, he was felled by the subhumans in the end.” He put a hand on Conrad’s shoulder as he continued, “The same happened to Judas, I presume? He was so narrowminded that, in the end, he lacked the strength to handle the subhuman hordes. So let me ask you a question…” Berlioz leaned in to ask the final question, “... What makes you think you won’t end up the same way?” “Shit,” Conrad spat, “What are we doing, then?” “Simple,” Berlioz began, “You are going to fold your men into my Society… and we’re going to find Thule…” He paused, giving Conrad the side eye, “or die trying.” “[i]My[/i] men,” Conrad reiterated, then slapped a palm across his midsection with a bemused snort, “Fuck it. They're good boys; they'll do what they're told. I work with you on this… consider ‘em yours.” Berlioz grinned as he walked over to Conrad and touched his shoulder. “… Glad to have you on board, friend.” He looked over his shoulder at the twins and said, “I believe our other guests should be here soon. Keep an eye on the door for us.” The twins nodded and walked off into the halls of the Wolf Den with the Dragonslayer behind them. Berlioz gestured for Conrad to sit with the rest of the New Thule Society while he sat down and enjoyed a glass of wine. It wasn’t long before the Twins walked through the doorway into the Wolf Den’s dining room with their guests of honor! [url=https://i.imgur.com/nNGWiY1.jpeg]Blake[/url], and [url=https://i.imgur.com/n8pYWrL.jpeg]Phillis[/url] Schmidt… dressed rather eccentricly. They both wear khaki button-up shirts and cargo shorts with backpacks with a safari cap on. Blake had on a backpack as Berlioz could not help [i]but[/i] raised an eyebrow. “Oh, my apologies, my good sir!” Blake said. “We had a hard time following your directions, but nonetheless!” Berlioz took a sip of his wine as Blake clapped his hands together. [i]“... Let’s talk business!”[/i]