Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 6

"We have a problem," Operative Beta Indigo said as she looked up from the computer terminal. Omega Six stood nearby, having been pacing back and forth as she put in her research. Finally, after several minutes, she had everything she needed. Operative Violet Rose walked over to view her findings. And he furrowed his brow as he looked closely. Indigo turned in her chair to gauge her commanding officer's reaction. And as always, it was the same thing. Walker took out his cigarette holder, removed a custom rolled Pall Mall and lit it. "She's a spook, Sir. Former Canadian military, now with CSIS," she summarized for them all, her Italian accent softened after the years. "Rumour has it, she is in a very black ops division of CSIS. But no one, not even the Illuminati has information on which branch."

Walker nodded as he listened to the information, taking a long pull on the cigarette. He remained silent as he looked to each of his soldiers. Omega Six, Beta Indigo, Grey 626, and Crimson Luna. Each of them had not argued with Walker when he made his decision. They were in, and they'd stay by him. They almost anticipated his next words. "She could be a silver linin' in this here sow's ear we got ourselves inta."

"There is more, Sir," Indigo stated. "She is a guest at the convention. While her background in civilian life is in archeology, her brother is the one who was asked to come. Professor Maxwell Running Cloud, Masters Degree in Native American History from the University of British Columbia, Degree in Natural Sciences, specializing in ornithology. Two years ago, he accepted a position at the University of Saskatchewan's Historical Department."

"An academic?" Walker asked.

Indigo turned to her terminal and tapped in a few keys. A news video began playing, though the sound was muted. "At the time Professor Running Cloud accepted the position in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, reports of a vigilante the media dubbed Hawk's Scream began making appearances. It was later revealed that Hawk's Scream and Maxwell Running Cloud are one in the same."

"An' Lieutenant Runnin' Cloud?" Walker said as he took another pull on the cigarette. "She got more 'n just military background?" He watched the screen a moment as he rubbed the knuckles of his left hand. Indigo watched for a moment. All of Walker's agents were familiar with his condition. Something that crept up upon everyone. Old age. His bones were suffering the affects of Arthritis. Indigo turned back to the keyboard as Walker looked to her. He chuckled slightly. "What I tell ya 'bout lookin' at me that way? I'm old, I ain't dead." He motioned toward the terminal again. "'Bout Miss Runnin' Cloud."

"Mrs. Simonson, actually," Indigo corrected. "Niaomi married a Captain Peter Simonson. They met while on mission in Boznia. Married not long after her brother was married. Strangely, both brother and sister are also widower and widow." Indigo tapped her keyboard again. "But as you requested, Sir, Lieutenant Running Cloud has a code name known to the Illuminati. And many believe it is a moniker in homage to her brother." She looked back to Walker, noting his full attention was on her words. "Grey Kestrel."

Walker snorted a laugh and finished his cigarette, tossing it to the ground and crushing it under his boot heel. "Birds o' a feather. Maybe they can both help us."

"Orders, Sir," Monty stated quickly.

"Our orders," Walker said to Monty, then turned to face all his agents. "Make it look good. Them kids do not get killed. We get a trail offa them fast, an' maybe the Illuminati'll stop chasin' 'em." He looked to each agent for a moment before continuing on. "Anyone here who don't like this idea, yer free ta walk out now. This here's my decision." He was going to wait a moment, but each of his agents quickly piped up their support. All or nothing, they were in and backing his play. The old gun hand nodded and smiled, the sound in his ears of their conviction outweighed the pain in his bones a thousand fold. With them, he could fight heaven and hell. "Good. Now let's get ta work."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 5

Maxwell watched Niaomi as she tucked Petey into bed. She'd been quiet since the left the dinner. He asked if something might be wrong, but she avoided the question rather quickly. But now, it was nagging at him and he could tell there was something bothering her as she went through rather methodical motions. "Something's got you bugged," he idly commented. "Did something happen at the dinner?"

"You could say that," she replied as she opened a suitcase with her laptop. She hooked it up to the hotel's network and turned it on as she took out her cellphone and began dialing. Niaomi waited as it rang, holding her hand up to shush her brother. Maxwell was now completely confused, and frustrated. His sister wasn't saying word one to him. And then someone answered the phone and he could tell she had switched to spook mode. She muttered quietly into the receiver and waited again. It was only a few minutes and she spoke in a regular tone again. "Good evening, Amanda. I need some help. I'm going to log into the suspect files and I need an identity match." She paused for a moment, obviously Amanda was speaking on the other end of the phone. "Logging in right now," she spoke as her fingers tapped in the commands on the keyboard. Soon enough, the answer came for Maxwell as the CSIS Paranormal Division logo popped up on her screen. "Amanda, I'm going to put you on speaker. My brother's with me, and this could end up involving him as well." Maxwell heard some chatter on the other end, which to him, Niaomi seemed to ignore as she hooked the cellphone up to a pair of small speakers.

"...unauthorized personnel, Agent. ...bloody..." The voice paused a moment before the sound of someone clearing their throat could be heard. "Good evening, Professor Running Cloud."

"Um... evening," he replied to the cellphone. He was thoroughly confused now. Maxwell leaned against the back of a chair and looked to his sister for help, but received none.

"Amanda, I'm going through the criminal database," she explained as her fingers flew over the keys. On the screen a series of small files appeared, each with a name and photo. "The individual I'm looking for is maybe early 30's, male, Australian, dark hair, about 6 feet tall. He said he was with the military, but that could have been a lie." She continued typing as she spoke, looking through the database and narrowing down her search. There was matching typing heard over the cellphone.

"This could be an incredibly narrow search, Agent Running Cloud," Amanda reported after a few moments. "After all, the number of Australian criminals wanted internationally is equal to the number of Canadian criminals wanted internationally."

"Please don't tell me that Australia has the same stigma that we do," Niaomi sighed. "Polite, but still wanting to stab you in the back." Maxwell smirked and there was a small chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"No, I doubt that," Amanda replied. "I'm going to make an addition to the search and see what I might be able to discover." Niaomi leaned back in her chair. Her gut feeling was there about Malcom, but the search was turning up not a bloody thing. Maxwell placed a well meaning hand on her shoulder, a show of support. He trusted her judgement, and did not question her feeling about this man. Niaomi smiled to Maxwell just as Amanda cried out in victory. "I think I have something. I had to open up the secured files, but I believe I have something." A file opened on Niaomi's laptop, displaying a picture and write up. Niaomi studied it for a moment before smirking as she nodded.

"Yeah, that's the guy. I knew it." She began reading the information off the screen as Amanda read over the cliff notes.

"No serious criminal background, but he is suspected to be involved with the Illuminati," Amanada explained. "An extremely military branch that recruits those with police and military background. Many of the recruits are from Russia and the United States. Malcom Montgomery Watt is an expert weapons specialist. He was a member of EMS Services in Australia for several years, then applied to join the police force, then nothing. He resurfaced after RCMP Lieutenant Christa Rayne began gathering information about a gunslinger by the code name Operative Violet Rose. It would seen that Watt, code named Omega Six, is Rose's second in command."

"Well, he's here in Columbus, Amanda," Niaomi explained. "And if these files read correctly, then Rose and the rest of his unit is here as well. Though, for what, I'm not sure."

"Is there a high profile at the convention who would be a target?" Amanda inquired.

"No," Maxwell offered. "No one of real importance in the field. Well, I shouldn't say that, each of us is important. Just no one who would attract these to them."

"What's the next move, Amanda?" Niaomi asked in a hopeful voice. There was a pause on the other end as it sounded as if Amanda were speaking to someone away from the phone.

"I'll contact the FBI, who should get you in touch with the police," she replied as Niaomi smiled. She hoped this would happen. "Don't get too excited. These things usually take time. But due to the nature of these individuals, we might be able to push paperwork through for you. Both of you." Amanda sighed on the other end of the phone. "I hope you two enjoy the paperwork I'm going to have to do because of you. Oh, and Niaomi..."

"Yes Assistant Director?" she said, switching back to more formal titles.

"I hope you two packed your wings."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 4

The tie was a little tight. The drinks were a little watered down. And the conversation was a little boring. At least Omega Six had the luxury of bird watching while he watched the room. The event was the Ohio State Anthropological Society. Experts in the fields of different cultures were in attendance from all over the world. Most chatted lightly with colleagues. For others, it seemed to Monty as though it were like a high school reunion.

And then, there was the woman. Monty knew she was a single mother, the child never left her side. And even with elegant floor length dress she wore, Monty could tell that there was something else about this dark skinned woman than met the eye. Aboriginal, he assumed, possibly from Western Canada or the United States. Tribe ancestry he couldn't put his finger on. But nonetheless, she still seemed intriguing to him. Strong and elegant, all at the same time. He smiled as he casually walked toward her.

Fifteen steps away, he heard the gruff voice of the old gunslinger in his ear piece. "Just what 'xactly ya doin', son?"

"Mingling," he replied as he moved to make it appear as though he were taking out a kerchief to cough. "It's what we're s'pposed ta do."

"Mingle," Walker repeated. "Not oogle over the first pretty skirt ya see." Monty cursed under his breath, mumbling in wonderment how his commanding officer could do that. "Just keep yerself focused, Six," the gunslinger warned as he cut off the communication. Monty was glad, a good old shindig like this, the old man could end up crampin' his style by interrupting his good view.

The Aussie moved through the crowd toward the woman, examining her carefully. Her son never let go of her hand, dressed in his own smart looking suit. She was obviously engaged in conversation with an older gentleman, one that Monty recognized. Colonel William Pate, former British army. This alone caused him to wonder about the nature of this woman, if she was conversing with a man such as him. And he drew a little closer.

"...again, my deepest sympathies. I never had the chance to mention that to you before you shipped out," Pate said with the most polite of gestures.

"I've mourned," came the woman's reply. "And I've learned that he's still with me. We both knew the risks serving in Afghanistan."

Monty furrowed his brow. Bloody hell, she's military. American? He noticed Pate looking his way and he smiled. "Pardon the intrusion," Monty said as he turned on the charm. "Sometimes movin' 'round in these gatherin's takes ya ta the strangest o' places."

"From the sound of it," Pate chuckled. "I'd say your a long way from your home. Aussie, aren't you?"

"That's right, mate," Monty grinned as he offered Pate his hand in a friendly shake. "An' pardon if I eavesdropped, but the three o' us 'ave somethin' in common." Pate accepted the offer as Monty introduced himself. "Corporal Malcom Watt."

"Ah, another from the Royal Service," Pate said with a smile.

Royal service, Monty mused. Must mean the lady's Canadian then. "Served for a few years indeed." He offered his hand to the woman, who accepted it with a smile.

"Niaomi Running Cloud," she said with a small bow. And now that Monty stood face to face with her, he realized that she wasn't wearing high heels, and she was still taller than he was.

"A pleasure," Monty replied and looked to the child. "Somebody looks bored." Monty smiled and winked to the small boy. "Bet there's a thousand places you'd rather be, 'ey mate?" He quipped. Petey hid behind his mother's leg, still clutching to her hand, then laughed and smiled. Success, Monty smiled back. The tike's on my side. He returned his gaze back to Niaomi. "So, if I might ask, what's someone like you doin' here? I don't mean ta say ya probably don't find this int'restin', but it's odd ta find more 'n one soldier 'round a place like this."

Niaomi smirked and nodded. "The same could be said of you," she replied. "But in all honesty, I'm here with the tall, dark hair guy over there." She pointed toward Maxwell's form, his long hair neatly braided and looking oddly out of place in the tux that he wore.

"'Usband?" Monty asked quickly, his ego taking a bit of a hit. Pate laughed aloud and looked to Niaomi for a moment, then turned to Monty.

"Oh goodness no, old chap," he said still chuckling. "Maxwell and Niaomi are brother and sister."

Monty nodded with the revelation, his bruised ego taking some solace in this new information. He looked toward Maxwell a moment, and then snapped his fingers. "Say, I think I've seen 'im b'fore."

"I should say so," Pate quickly replied. "Professor Running Cloud happens to be one of the most highly regarded experts on First Nation culture." With the last three words he looked to Niaomi and winked. "I told you I wouldn't have to be prompted."

Monty simply furrowed his brow, obviously showing some sign of confusion by the statement. Niaomi helped fill in the blanks. "Colonel Pate used to always say Indian. My brother isn't a fan of the term." She looked to Pate and returned the wink. "Maxie would be proud of you, Colonel."

Monty chuckled lightly and shook his head. He looked to his left for a moment, catching sight of a familiar figure. Their eyes met for a moment, and he knew it was time to leave. Besides, Indigo Beta was getting bored in her dress. He smiled to her, making the show look good, and turned back to Niaomi and Pate. "If you'll both excuse me, I see someone I 'aven't spoken with in years." He nodded to them each, and received a handshake from both before turning to meet with Indigo. Their survey of the room was done. They could leave now.

Niaomi watched the Aussie for a moment more and let out a slight sigh. "Is something wrong?" Pate asked with concern in his voice.

"I don't know," she replied and took a sip of her wine. But I plan on finding out.

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 3

The door to the suite opened slowly as the bell hop ensured that nothing was damaged. For three people there was a lot of luggage for just a four day convention. The bellhop busied himself with the luggage, removing it from the carriage as Niaomi lay Petey down on the bed. It had been a long trip, and the boy was very tired, even if he began with excitement in his eyes. Maxwell paid the bellhop a tip and thanked the man, then proceeded to sit heavily in one of the chairs in the room. Niaomi had already stretched out on one of the other beds.

"I can't believe we just drove for thirteen hours," she said in an exasperated voice. "I don't think I ever want to see the inside of a car again."

"We have to drive back," Maxwell reminded her.

"Forget it," she huffed. "I'll call up the director of CSIS and see if he can't get a Hercules to pick us all up." She chuckled as she made the comment, only making Maxwell laugh as well. "What's the plan for tonight?" Niaomi said softly, changing the subject.

"Dinner with the professors," Maxwell said as he took out a small brochure. It detailed their weekend and different events and discussions at the conference. "Cocktails at six, and dinner at seven. Guest speaker to follow."

"Are you speaking at this tonight?" Niaomi asked as she draped one arm over her eyes.

"No," Maxwell replied as he set down the brochure. "I don't speak until tomorrow afternoon."

"Good," she stated, not moving a muscle. "Who gets the first crack at the shower?"

"I don't wanna move," he replied as he lay his head back on the chair. As the pair of adults didn't move, to tired to do anything more than just breath, Petey woke up. He looked around for a moment, then caught sight of the door to the bathroom, and lazily loped over to it. Soon, after the door had closed, the sound of running water could be heard. Maxwell looked up for only a moment to gaze toward the bathroom door, then over to Niaomi. "He's having a shower? Isn't that a cardinal sin for an eight year old?"

"He's a smart kid," Niaomi replied, still not moving. "Dibs after he's done. Because I'll have to clean it before you get in."

"Good," Maxwell replied as he yawned. "Maybe I'll get a nap." He sat in the chair for a moment longer, letting the silence fill the room. And then spoke the most random thing. "I wonder how Zachary's doing with Ernie."

Niaomi could only chuckle where she lay. "You and that damned cat."

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 2

"...the world will always be changing. And something is coming. We have to be prepared for it. We must stand together, for the betterment of mankind." Each word from the general was emphasized with a fist pumped into the air. The men and women on the floor of the gathering hall cheered as the speech came to an end. But up in the top level, where the other gunslingers gathered, there was no cheering. They'd heard the flowery speeches before. They knew what life was like for them and the agents under their command.

One of them knew only too well.

John Walker tossed the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot as he moved toward the exit. "They knew you were smoking, Rose," one of the other gunslingers said without looking up. "They'd have you killed."

"Their minds 're more concerned with matters o' politics, m'friend," Walker replied calmly after he took a drag off the cigarette. "An' those politics don't include the cleanliness o' air. 'Sides, they already choke up the air 'nough with their rhetoric."

"Ya keep talkin' like that, mate an' ya'll get y'self shot," the Aussie next to him drawled. Omega Six. The man had served long enough with Walker in this organization, and had seen more than many of those in the upper hierarchy of the Illuminati. "The word's lay low an' keep quiet, innit mate?"

"Only in the field, Six," Walker replied. He looked back toward the main stage as more speeches were being made to the gathered crowd. A futile effort to bolster courage. "C'mon, Six. We don't need ta hear anymore o' this bullshit." He rubbed the knuckles of his right hand absently as he began walking down the hallway. Today was a bad day, today he actually felt old as his arthritis began to flare up. Not a good thing for a gunslinger to be afflicted with.

Omega Six glanced down to the convention floor before turning to catch up with Walker. "Things're changin', innit, Sir?" Six knew that Walker had an idea of what was about to happen.

"Yeah, Six. They are." Walker collected his gear in his slow, methodical way as he spoke. "Remember the orders we got fer Ohio?" Six nodded sagely. "Well, I scouted the target out. They want us ta hit a university. Tag some kids. Kids that were the younguns o' a coupla senators. Know how old they were?" His men said nothing, they only waited for some sort of reply. "Seventeen, maybe eighteen." He inhaled from the cigarette deeply and closed his eyes. "Boys. It's time I got out."

A few of the other men began to protest, but a look from Omega Six quickly quieted them. They'd been in the service of the old gunslinger for years, and they knew of his convictions. When he'd made a decision, he would stick to it. "Whaddya want us ta do, mate?"

"Monty," Johnathon Walker sighed as he dropped the formalities of rank. Malcolm Montgomery Watt had been his second in command for longer than even the old gun hand could remember. "You know how good we are at fixin' things. Well, it's 'bout time we fix things up real good, an' make this here group think things went so south, that it were us that bought it."

"Disappear," Monty replied quietly. His commanding officer nodded in full agreement. Within a few moments, the decision had been made. And no one argued anymore. They'd back his play.

Walker was getting out.

Canyons of Steel - Still Just a Rat in a Cage Pt. 1

Niaomi Running Cloud tilted the seat back as the sound of the road seemed to drone on and on. She hadn't spoken a word since she and her brother Maxwell crossed the border, and the radio didn't help at all. Even the few CD's they had ran out long ago. And now, she was just getting tired. She looked to the back seat of the Bronco and smiled. Her son, Petey, was fast asleep. Niaomi wished that she could just nod off quickly in a blissful slumber. "Oh, to be eight again," she muttered with a smile.

Maxwell glanced to his nephew in the rear view mirror and smiled. "I think he fell asleep as soon as we entered the city limits."

Niaomi chuckled as she looked to her brother. "City limits. That's funny, considering this is Columbus, Ohio. It's not like Saskatoon. There we know where the city limits are. Here, it's kind of like southern Ontario. Mississauga runs into Toronto, which runs into Hamilton and so on and so forth."

"It is a different world, that's for certain," Maxwell replied with a smile. He checked his mirrors and watched the traffic. They'd been driving for a while now. Ohio State University had invited him to speak to students about Native American history, the affect European settlers had on them, and how many tribes interacted with them. His main goal was always to wipe clean the myth of First Nations tribes being filled with ruthless savages, and bring about the stories of many of the chiefs and elders who were very peace loving. Much like the old chief from his home's history, Chief Whitecap.

"You never answered my question before, Maxie," Niaomi stated as she settled back into her seat. "Why didn't you book a flight?"

"You know why," Maxwell furrowed his brow as he glanced to his sister. "I hate to fly."

Niaomi laughed a loud, covering her mouth as she looked to her son who was still asleep. Behind her son sat suitcases and other packages. Included in those was a rig that Maxwell had created, one that allowed him to assist the police in Saskatoon. He didn't consider himself a superhero, but he was dubbed one by the media. "So says the man who wears a pair of wings on his back," Niaomi teased.

"Hey now," Maxwell said with a slight grin. "I'm not the only one in this vehicle with a set of wings on their back."

Niaomi sat back in the passenger's seat, a cheshire grin on her face. She would often tease her brother. Even though in a way she also admired him. He was an intelligent man, who made his own luck. No wonder he built his flight rig and sonic amplifier. The media had dubbed him Hawk's Scream, but he didn't fly with a secret identity. Unlike Vancouver's dark avenger, the Mannequin, Maxwell's identity was known. Many would think that would interfere with his position as professor at the University of Saskatchewan, but Maxwell made certain it didn't. Besides, Niaomi had a rig of her own.

After a decade with the Canadian military, she was brought into the fold of CSIS Paranormal Division. And they gave her a rig all her own, but much more streamlined and sleek than Maxwell's. And she had claws. Her code name was Grey Kestrel, something she thought was a play on her brother's monicker. And she also had brought her rig with her. Her thoughts seemed to drift a bit as they drove. The adventures she'd had, and the ones she'd read about involving Maxwell. "Ya know," she said with a smile. "I think it'd be nice if the two of us fought side by side."

"We are going to be in another country," Maxwell reminded her. "I'm not exactly sure how well the United States government would look upon a pair of Canadian superheroes fighting crime on their soil."

"I thought you hated that term," Niaomi chuckled lightly, indicating the word superhero.

"Note, I made certain it was sarcastic."

"Then why do you do it?" Niaomi asked genuinely. "I mean, I have my orders. But you don't have to. But you do anyway."

Maxwell shrugged and shook his head. "I just want to help people. Maybe some of the kids I work with can have someone to look up to. Maybe they'll see that if you put your mind to it, anything is possible." He signaled as he guided the Bronco onto an off ramp. "And now, I am going to assume that thanks to your connections, we don't have to worry about the government or authority in Columbus."

"Spook hotline," Niaomi said with a chuckle. "Canadian spook going into U.S. territory. I had to let the American spooks know I was there, just to be polite." She looked out the window as the buildings past the vehicle. "I think that's the hotel."

Maxwell slowed the vehicle down and sighed. He was going to be happy to get out of the Bronco. "Maybe next, we can take a flight." The pair of them laughed a loud, which waken Petey.

"Mom!" the eight year old said with a very tired yawn. "We there yet. I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Just pulling into the parking lot now, sweetie," Niaomi said with a smile. "Not too much adventure here. I think it's gonna be a quiet convention, so we'll get a chance to see the sights."

Maxwell steered the Bronco into the hotel parking lot with a smile. It had been a long trip. It was going to be nice to have a rest before any action, no matter how mundane, took place.

Canyons of Steel - Minus Human Pt. 7

The soldiers watched quietly as Weaver mages entered the room. A high ranking soldier looked over to Amen'Dell as the Weavers began the ritual. He didn't like dealing with theories and suppositions that came with wild cards. He wanted hard evidence. "As you have stated, elf," he said with words tipped in acid. "This will bring about a weapon which we can use. Something which we can set upon our enemies." It was more a statement than a question. Repeating what had already been told to them.

Amen'Dell sighed and looked to the man. "Yes, as I did state before. You must learn patience, Marsden. It is a virtue that I hold quite dear."

"As you've stated before, you have a thousand years with which your kind can wait," Marsden pointed out. "We... humans, as you have often reminded us, do not have this luxury."

Amen'Dell merely lifted his hand to quiet Marsden. The ceremony was about to begin. Weaver mages began chanting as the runic obelisk began to glow eerily. Heritage Front soldiers held their weapons tightly in the event that things went wrong. The air became crisp and warm. The scent that comes with acid filled the room. Small orbs of light began to dance around the room. Torches extinguished as a rush of air went through the room. A large cracking sound filled the room, and the soldiers braced themselves for the worst. The obelisk seemed to shatter, but the pieces suddenly stopped in mid air, as the glowing orbs rushed to the place where it stood. A scream of anger suddenly filled the room. The pieces of the obelisk slammed back together with great violence, and the sound became deafening.

And as soon as it began, it was over.

The obelisk was whole again. And there was someone chained to it. An elven female, dressed in rags, hung by a set of manacles. The Weavers held shocked looks on their faces, as Marsden sighed heavily. "I didn't need a slave girl," he muttered to Amen'Dell.

"Just watch," the elven wizard said quietly, a knowing smile on his lips.

One of the Weavers stepped forward inspecting the woman. In his hand he held a key, given to him by Amen'Dell. The elven wizard knew all too well what this ritual would summon, and had made preparations. The Weaver unlocked the woman's manacles and lifted her off of the obelisk. His only mistake, but a fatal one. The woman's eyes lit up as she felt the man's touch, and she opened her mouth in a blood curdling scream. Her true nature revealed, an elven vampire. She drew upon strength held in reserve and began to feed off the man. Once complete, she tossed his carcass to the side and looked around.

"More..." she hissed as she moved with lightning reflexes, catching another Weaver. "MORE!" The Weavers panicked and tried to run, only finding themselves cut down quickly. The slaughter took only minutes as the elven vampire laughed with glee, her power back where it belonged. She finished the last Weaver and looked toward her new targets. The soldiers of the Front. But something stopped her from attacking. She saw Amen'Dell and smiled. "You kept your end of the bargain, sweetie," she said with a twisted grin as blood dripped down from her hungry fangs. "And so, I will spare your life."

"And, you will spare these men as well," he motioned to soldiers. "These are new friends I have made. They can give us so much power." He smiled as he studied the vampire's reaction.

Yar'ow grinned and laughed maniacally as she heard his words, clapping her hands with excitement. "Power, power power! It shall be mine!" she seemed to sing. "An army to help me. For I feel such a grand slaughter is comin' ta this world. So many victims, so lil time. Where shall we b'gin, love?"

Amen'Dell chuckled lightly with her enthusiastic display. Yes, the Front now had their weapon. And soon, he would have his own.

And the high guild of the Elven Councils would not know what hit them.

The End... For Now

Canyons of Steel - Minus Human Pt. 6

The lithe elf set her gear down on the hardwood floor of the Safehouse and she let out a slow whistle as she looked around. "It's quite rustic in 'ere, I'll give ye tha'," she said with a coy smile. "I bet ye rent 'round this place is decent." She leaned lightly against the doorway that lead to the stables, three horses chuffled quietly in the background. "Bu' then, I doubt ye really concern yeself with such trivial matters."

Johnathon Walker stood firm and crossed his arms. There was an explanation that was promised, and he was going to wait on it. But not forever. The look in his eyes held some frustration. First, they'd been set up. Second, this new gunslinger comes around with promise of aid. And third...

Well, at least they got paid.

Pania cleared her throat and coughed. Walker's glare was making her uneasy. It didn't help that Monty's glare was equal to his elder. And Marianne's... just so cold. The pale elf looked to the three for a moment as she took a seat in an old rickety chair and began to speak. "All the thin's tha' ye know. Ev'rythin' ye've 'eard in the past o' myths an' wha'no'. Take 'em an' toss 'em ta the winds. B'cause as o' righ' now, they all change." She leaned back in the chair as Walker pulled up on of his own, followed slowly by Marianne and Monty. "The universe is made up o' more 'n anythin' tha' we've ever know. Places tha' some cannu dream o'. I think it's obvious tha' I'm no' 'uman, an' I'm no' from this world."

"I think I 'ad that figured out, Sheila," Monty said with a soft snort. "Ya look like a reject from that 'orrid Dungeons an' Dragons movie."

Pania rolled her eyes and gave a snort of her own. "I'd rather people equated me own kind with somethin' more Tolkien, if ye please. Bu' little matter. It's no' a long shot in describin' me own 'ome world as bein' rather backwards in comparison ta this world. Very swords an' sorcery, ye might say. As opposed ta the modern technology o' this world. An' Amen'Dell also be from me own world."

"I take it he's some sorta outlaw on yer world," Walker offered his own observations. "An' yer some kinda bounty hunter, I take it."

"Sorta," Pania remarked. "On me own world, I'm a bard, a songstress, a storyteller. An' a storyteller does any manner o' thin' ta write an epic tale fer the masses."

"Sounds like the bloody papparazzi here," Marianne quipped as she crossed her arms.

"Again, sorta," Pania smirked as she gazed over Marianne for a moment. "'Cept we dunna chase down royalty on motorcycles."

"Exactly how long you been," Walker paused mid thought as he formulated the proper words. "...hoppin' back an' forth b'tween yer world an' this one." It was all rather surreal. He was sitting, having a civil conversation with a being not of Earth. Not human.

"'Bout two 'undred years now," Pania said without missing a beat. Monty snorted and shook his head. "The lifetime o' them connected ta the Fey folk is a lo' longer 'n the short lives o' 'umankind," she replied to Monty's action. "Some o' us 'ave lived o'er a thousand years. I'm young in comparison."

"So, what, ya take any o' the things ya find here on Earth back ta yer own world?" Walker asked with some curiosity.

"No," Pania replied without hesitation. "The creations o' this world would only serve ta destroy the weave o' me own world. Magic is as common there as reality television is 'ere. Them like Amen'Dell, 'owever, they would like materials from 'ere ta be sent ta me own world. 'E made an offer ta give power ta the Front 'ere on Earth in exchange fer a supply o' weapons. I found out 'e planned on takin' 'em back ta me own world. An' I plan on stoppin' 'im."

"What exactly is it that this... Amen'Dell were offerin' the Front?"

Pania sighed slightly and looked out the window of the rustic building. In the street beyond, merchants were closing their shops and packing away their market items. The end of another day was upon them. "I dunna know fer certain. But knowin' Amen'Dell, ye want ta find out." She turned to look to the three again. "An' ye'll want ta destroy it."