Darkness ever flowing darkness.
What light was snuffed, what mortal eyes dared try to search for the light.
No flames burned, no light broke as the darkness consumed the very essence of it all.
There in the perfect dark the blood of dozens called out to the vampires.
Like wolves in the night to lambs to the slaughter.

While the children played however, as Lady Mo had done away with the fog and mist obscuring, the darkness lingered on unnaturally sapping the light away as if to extinguish all hope of surviving. Yet through it all, the mist and fog, and battle scenes it was evident to the old knight where the warriors were. While the rest were merely unworthy blood, three came into the interest of Lord Bedivere. 

One was a young human, who had seemed to direct the modern archers. The wave of covering fire against the Purge knights was interesting as metal plates met bullet rounds. This one seemed to be the leader in terms of ranged warfare, able to call in the shots as the SOLIDER began to assault the battle tanks, though such explosions would be shortly suppressed in the unnatural darkness. But as any archer knows, arrows are not without end and soon perhaps his forces would be unable to deal with the surge of both Purge and Vampires.

Another was the figure in the metal jacket, who emerged from the mist victorious as it seems. Strange that in the such a fog which lingered so, the warrior managed to find his prey. Though given the actions and the stake it appeared it was a Purge member who had staked a vampire operative of the SOLIDER. This one had bested a vampire in the fog, something rather of interest to Lord Bedivere for such details were important in a battle. Without sight, the metal being had managed to not only find a vampire but defeat it. To know one's enemy is to know one's weaknesses, and as such, it would be ill-advised to engage in such a worthy adversary until all the cards were accounted for.

However, to know one's allies is to know their weaknesses and as such, this fallen vampire was also of interest to the former knight. Swooping in like a hawk did the Raven land upon the silvered stake claws wrapt around the handle. The work of Gabriel no doubt, the only presence which could be so fickle as to let such a rogue vampire live in shame of being defeated by a tin man. Unless of course the hand had miraculously slipped and the cyborg was not the adversary he had expected. Nevertheless, a pocketsquare-shrouded hand griped around the stake and removed it from the body of the fallen vampire which appeared far younger than he himself, but far older than the new blood. Speaking of blood, as the elaborate stake was removed, a bit of the vampire's blood was collected on Lord Bedivere's pocketsquare as he took his humanoid form once again. They said the raven was an omen of death.

But this vampire was different than the rest of the SOLIDER scum. Yes, while he was a traitor to his own kin, the knight could not help to empathize with the vampire as he laid there dying in the shame of being swiftly bested before even drawing blood. Such retribution was necessary, and as Gabriel in his twisted humor decided to let this one off with but a nearly fatal wound, perhaps the Ancient had foreseen a critical role for this vampire and thus allowed him to live. Or maybe it was merely a jest to mock the power of the Purge? Either way, it was best to use this puppet as a means to an end. Perhaps he could be swayed to join them and abandon humanity all together. 

"Balm of Gilead, Azoth of Paracelsus, and Essence of the Stone..." Whispered the knight as his other hand administered a single drop of colourless liquid from a small vial retrieved from his briefcase. It was never wise to travel without such a small quantity in such cases, even as a vampire could regenerate most wounds, the critical ones were difficult and the silver blade would be far more dangerous to recover from at such a wound. A single drop would be all which was needed to restore the moderate wound and blood lost, as regeneration accelerated, blood flowed and flesh sealed, the what pain of silver and holiness would be washed away with a cool warmth like that of a sun-basked sand against the cool ocean tide. Soon, unlife returned to Mithias reaching into his being and pulling him back slowly into the form of flesh.

"You fight for the wrong side, child of night. For this reason you have been knell by a lesser foe." With those words to reflect on did Bedivere leave the awakening Mithias, in the form of the raven once again as he recovered the stake and blood away in his briefcase of things (amongst which was an old hatchet to be brought before Lady Mo later.) and back into the darkest night did the Raven fly back to observe perching itself upon a high tree with the eyes of a demon dreaming.