Lancelot grunted at his fellow Vampire. He didn't feel like hanging around anymore. So he got up, stretched, and left. Before he had gotten too far. however, he heard someone say "Traitor," in a hushed voice. Lance stopped to listen in. "There's rumors of a traitor in our midst. Supplies going missing, information that shouldn't be known getting to the rebels. They shouldn't have known where we took their Lycan ally, yet suddenly, boom, they're attacking the border house. No other explanation." Lancelot sighed. Paranoia was rampant in camp. He paid it no mind as he left, heading to a house he had claimed not far from there. 

It was smallish and simple in style. Going to the back, through the small kitchen, he went into his room. In it was a bed, dresser and closet. Curious he looked at the letter that was on his pillow. It had not been there when he left. He opened it and read it. 
[i]
Lancelot, 

I know how honorable you are. Come to the Warehouse by the docks at 11pm tomorrow night. Trust me.

Yours, 

A friend.[/i]

Well. Looks like Lancelot had a plan for tomorrow night then.