A Missing Lord?
Somewhere in France,
Lightning arched across the dark cloud-covered skies as heavy rain came down on a solitary strangely placed clean mansion surrounded on all sides by miles and miles of unkempt wild grass with no signs of life anywhere in sight.
A rough haired man with sharp facial features toiled away in one of it's many rooms, haphazardly drawing patterns and symbols all over the wooden floor using chalk, "Gotta hurry! Come on!" His breathing was haggard and his wet clothes stuck to his rather thin figure...
A sudden knock on the door brought him out of his craze and slowly he stood up, magic circuits appearing over his bare skin as he walked towards it cautiously.... He put his ear against the wooden door, ignoring the noise emanating from the storm outside and backed away slowly, instead opting to chant.
"Ne-"
Before he could even utter the first word however, a massive blade impaled him through the chest, breaking the wooden door he was near in the process.... The blade was attached to a thick metal pole and ripped itself out of the magus, tearing the corpse's torso in two halves.
Organs spilled onto the floor, along with massive volumes of blood as the door too was blown to shred revealing behind it a tall man wearing long robes, gauntlets and greaves.. While his face was hidden by a hood, it didn't matter much.. What did matter was the cross hanging from his neck,
"Heretic scum."
It was their mission as men of god to rid his world of such heretical filth.
The Chivalric Orders, many of them had begun to die out as more and more among them joined the Church's Executors in their fanaticism.. This glorious war would reinstate them, a moment for them to truly shine doing what they were good at.
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London, England,
Clock Tower,
A little over a month had passed since the 'horrid' day the Mage's Association lost an entire faction, along with the Lord Director and several Departments were still closed off, the positions of their Lord yet to be taken up by other fitting individuals.
The effects of such a thing happening were felt more than clearly but not still not quite as much as one would expect from such a drastic act, such a large-scale occurrence.
It was strange even if they knew why.
Normally when a magus family ended up dying off, their research was oft lost with them unlike this time where their research was made available to the public unpatented, free for any to use or adopt into their own.
The other set of effects were from the useful positions the Neutral Lords occupied..only they were few other than the position of Director so nothing much was felt in this regard either.
It also assured the nobility of one more thing, the Lord of the Democratic Faction had somehow managed to come up with methods to deal with the loss of a faction OR had been planning this for a very long time... Both possibilities were equally terrifying... Who was to say it wouldn't be their turn next? Him? Who would believe anything that came out of his mouth?
None could move against him for what he'd done, none could make him answer and he refused to do so on his own part.
The Clock Tower was without any real leadership though, the position of Director was vacant and several of the Twelve Lord families had put forward their own candidates while others worked to delay the ordeal entirely, these being the main reasons the position was even vacant in the first place.
All the while the constant threat of the inevitable conflict with the Holy Church loomed overhead.
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"All Catholic presence in London has been culled, we endeavour to push them out of London entirely."
"Good.... and what of the twelve departments?"
"As proposed by Lord Trambelio, they are being divided in equal proportions."
"The position of Director?"
"....The only viable candidate is you, my lord."
"And Roman Trambelio."
Seated behind a table in her office, Lorelei Bartholomei, dressed as usual, spoke to a short haired and stern man wearing a cloak that hid most of his features, one of the 100 elite magi comprising her private forces. (A/N: Originally 50, increased in an attempt to match Roman's combatant units.)
"Very well, you may leave." She dismissed him, speaking in a tone devoid of emotion, calmly observing one of the portraits in her office.
The past month had certainly been hectic, with affiliated magi arriving from all over the world to seek both shelter and aid in the coming conflict.. or rather, the ensuing conflict. The Church was actively hunting down their members throughout Europe and Roman... he was nowhere to be found for a week now! She was having to deal with everything on her own.
On another note, the city of London seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of light showers ever since he came back.
"I was told I'd been called?"
Just as her subordinate left, another man came in, someone that made her feel less than 'pleased'.
Ashen hair tied in a ponytail, amber eyes and a white lab coat worn over casual clothing... Marisbury Animusphere peered into her office with only his head actually inside, looking as if he was a child that had caused someone a lot of trouble.
"Lord Animusphere, take a seat.."
"No no, how could I? I'm fine with standing." He waved his hands in surrender, walking in and standing across from her with a polite smile on his face, "Greetings Lord Barthomeloi, as professional as always."
"Flattery will get you nowhere." Lorelei's gaze paused on his figure for a moment before it returned to one of the numerous documents on her table, she pointed out they needed funding for a war and now she was stuck with all this, "Explain your actions, make it quick."
"Uhm..." The Animusphere that could more aptly be described as a scientist than a magus, innocently scratched his cheek, letting out a small giggle, "What actions? I don't think I've do-"
"The Animusphere family has turned it's back on the Aristocratic Faction and joined the Democrats, taking along with it the Department of Astromancy." Lorelei looked up at the man, boring holes into his chest with her emotionless eyes, "What made you believe there would be no consequences?"
"Oh, so that's what you mean." Marisbury only now sat down, crossing one leg over the other and met the Barthomeloi's gaze, "Why would you make me pay for that? Last I checked, I was the Marisbury patriarch, the one who decides who the family supports."
"Is this your attempt at humour? If it is, your face more than suffices."
"Is Lord Roman rubbing off on you?" Marisbury smiled, closing his eyes, "Consequences for personal decisions bring conflict, with the Church pushing hard, can we really afford that as a society?" He opened his eyes, staring at her calmly and spoke in a voice not dissimilar to her own, "Lord Roman has proven himself the better leader, conflict with me is conflict with us, can..." He paused a bit, letting his words sink in, "Are you certain you can afford that?"
"Is that truly your reason?"
"Yes."
"Very well then."
The tension in the room dissipated in seconds as Mraisbury's face changed to convey his genuine confusion, something that made the Barthomeloi's lips curl upwards ever so slightly.
"Wai.. What? How?"
"I concur, he is the better leader." His compassion made for a personality that could move the hearts of men, dissimilar to her own emotionless disposition. The Barthomeloi was a woman of facts, not of beliefs and ideals, "You will face no consequences." His blood was more venerable, his talent was superior, she wouldn't deny that.
"Then why contend for the position of Director?" Marisbury couldn't help but share his thoughts.
"I am Barthomeloi."
"Is that not... a complete and utter waste of time?" What was wrong with these people? Really, did personal feelings really matter that much?
"A bold assumption that one needs anything other than a desire to act."
"...." Marisbury Animusphere didn't know how to respond to such a statement, were the Vice Director and Roman more similar than he'd thought? "The Church will take time to move, gather it's resources and manpower first.. consider that bit my apology."
"Why would something I am already aware of suffice? If you truly do intend to share information, tell me of your Lord's whereabouts."
"New York, America."
"....."
Marisbury was startled by Lorelei snapping the pen in her hand in two, "What pray tell, might he be doing there?"
"I uhh... he said, 'I'll be getting the boys, going over to talk to some fat fucks and a french pedo that might be a trans faggot so see ya!' before leaving for his pl... one of his planes." Marisbury Animusphere felt that Roman Trambelio was way too wealthy.
"....."
"You can find the pink haired woman he's with sulking in his... one of his mansions here."
"Which one?"
"..."
"....."
Both Lords stared at each other in silence and had a moment of mutual understanding before Marisbury took his leave and Lorelei returned to her work, the rest of the magical governing bodies would end up involved anyway, it was better then that Roman, or rather, they, the Mage's Association, take the initiative and considering the momentum he had, his status and his shrewd nature, there was no one better to represent them.
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