[center][sup]“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, 
Ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime. 
They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, 
Speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head.”[/sup][/center]

"The Bat is dead." The hoarse voice stated, stepping forward into the light, and looking towards the shadowy perches above. 

"And what of the body, where is our trophy?" The host of voices above answered in a hissed whisper.

"My apologies to the Head Speaker and the rest of the Parliament, but I'm afraid I was intercepted. As our secret remains the Court's highest priority, I felt it my duty to abandon the body to the interlopers than risk overwhelming odds that could expose us." 

"The Bat had never been so careless in the past. Killed by a Talon and tailed by another. Are you so sure you killed him?"

"I watched the light go out of his eyes myself."

"And the interlopers?

"They were of a government agency, I believe it was S.W.O.R.D., it's an acronym I'm familiar with."

"Our trophy is then beyond your reach." The Head Speaker replied, "But it is not beyond the reach of this Parliament. We will have our trophy in  due time."

"You've done well my Talon, but the work is not yet done."

"The Gray Son still stands in our way." The speaker reprimanded the eager speaker. "Along with the other allies of the Bat."