Lock and Load

Adam is not smiling. He doesn't carry that normal light hearted air about him. As he walks into the center of Elysium and makes his announcement, his hand clenches into a fist.


"I heard a few different versions about what happened after I left town on Saturday."


His brow furrows as he looks at the other kindred, "I'm going to Portland and getting my friend back. Who's coming?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that."
:: The Sheriff folds up his newspaper and puts it down on the table in front of him.
"You want to go to Portland, good. Fuck those assholes, I wish you luck. But I can't let you drag the rest of Manchester with you. You go there with a bunch of Manchester kindred it's going to look like you're acting on behalf of this court, and well, that's just too much of a fucking pain in the ass. So unless you've got Ilyich's rubber stamp, there is no fucking way I'm gonna let you take this city to war."
:: Varney's voice remains calm, but he looks ready to bare fangs.

Adam stares at his elder, "I'm getting volunteers to rescue a member of this court. If you don't want to call it a coterie or stamp it as legit, it doesn't really matter. This isn't 'war'. This isn't about Carthians and Invictus, or The Standard. It never has been, and I was always under the impression that whatever it was, it didn't really involve us. But they attacked our city. They took one of us. And you might be okay with that, but I'm not."

He cracks his neck, "And we're not the only city attending."

:: The Sheriff's posture remains neutral. He thinks over whats been said for a moment, carefully considering a response. He smiles just a little, seemingly glad that Blackbourne didn't back down.
"If you're going, and it sounds like you are... kill em all, leave no survivors. I don't want to deal with any Red Guard motherfuckers storming into Manchester trying to relive their glory days out in Illinois. I will kill anyone who fucks with my... work. If you white knighting off to Maine calls down the cavalry on Manchester, you're gonna have to deal with me. So... if you're going, do it right, and we've got no problem."

"Mr. Blackbourne," says the Prince calmly, glancing up from his seat and standing slowly. "As you were correct, and not present for my earlier statement on the matter, please allow me to explain the situation." There is a glance at the Sheriff, and a nod. He turns back to Adam, regarding him passively.

"Ms. Gray is an honored and important member of my city," says the Serbian calmly. "Her being taken is a regrettable act by the Carthian Movement of Portland. I have received enough information to understand that she will very likely not be destroyed. It is very likely they are seeking to use her as a hostage of sorts. It is not something that I... can appreciate, but perhaps something I can tactically understand.

"As I have said time and again, I bear the Carthian Movement of Portland no ill will. I have even stated that I would be willing to provide safe haven to their members, if they wished to flee to my city for protection. However, attacks against my kindred anger me. I do not wish to be drawn into the war between the Invictus and the Carthians. We have larger problems, and while the Dragons of Manchester are perhaps slow to be roused, do not mistake our speed for laziness. We have more important concerns than the squabbling between factions of kindred. There is a war horde of lupines marching on my city as we speak who seek nothing more than our complete destruction. I am preparing to fight for our survival, not some territorial, semantic debate.

"But, I will not let this affront go unpunished. I am trying to be civil. We have captured one of their soldiers. What I need are not warriors bringing a fight to Portland. What I need are emmisaries, those who can go to Portland to broker the return of Ms. Gray, in exchange for the return of the prisoner we took. I would like for the Carthian Movement to appeal to their fellows in the city of Portland, and see to this happening. As you are a Carthian, Mr. Blackbourne, perhaps you would be willing to pursue the course of peace, instead of war?"

:: Varney hears the Prince speaks, and sits back down. He forces a deep breath, some habits never die, and watches Blackbourne for his response.

::Frank arrive mid conversation and shook his head some.::

"Well, me and my guys will be going in hot... As per orders I recieved way back in January, as was decided by the prince of Boston and the rest of the princes of the north east. All the time for talking has past, the protocol for diplomacy has already been drawn out. My prince, now is the time for skull crackin, unless you wish to compromise your position in the standard, I would suggest you not hold your kindred back. Even a dumb fuck Carthian like Blackborn here knows that Portland needs to be dealt with."

"Will the Princes of Boston and the rest of the northeast be sending me their aid in the matter of a lupine civil war on my doorstep?" asks the Serbian simply, lifting a brow. "Where I have enemies on both sides, and any attempts at peace with either faction has only found my city in even more of a problem than before? I have sued my enemies for peace, only to find it granted with a greater enemy taking its place. My war is already here, Sir Mason. I support your standard, but the Carthians of Portland are not going anywhere. The lupines of Vermont are coming here."

The Prince regards the Invictus troubleshooter with a calm sort of steadfastness, and turns back towards Blackbourne.

"As was said by my Sheriff, if you go, come back in victory or do not come back at all. As was said by the Grand Wyrm of Manchester, the Dragons of this city have their own problems which must take precedence. Only a fool fights two wars at the same time. When the lupines are subdued, then I will bring my attention to Portland. Not before. And I will not let Portland, or the Invictus, bait me and my city into a war when there may not be city for me to be a Prince of in a matter of weeks."

:: Varney smiles slightly, clearly pleased with the Serbian's response. He continues to observe in silence.

*Nobody saw him enter. One moment he wasn't there, the next he speaks from one of the corners of the room, hat respectfully in hand and eyes empty and serene*

If I could be given conveyance, would Ms. Grays' clan or covenant be willing to offer a boon to the Sanctum in exchange for her safe return?

*He doesn't blink and that accented monotone displays his typical lack of emotional presence*

Or, for that matter, would anyone?

There's no changing Adam's mind, "My first priority is, and will remain, the safe return of Eleanora. I'll have words with them first, of course. If that doesn't work, I've got my contingencies. Red wants a war, with anyone. I'll try to make sure that's someone else's problem."

He briefly looks over to Frank.

Adjusting his stance, Adam curiously asks, "You said you captured a soldier? Wanna fill me in on that? Since you brought it up, I'm assumin' you want a trade, right?"


Looking over at MacGregor, "What are you offering to bring to the table?"

"Texas Red wants a war... Frank Mason wants one. Sounds perfect. Leave Manchester the fuck out of it."

"I have one of their soldiers, Mr. Blackbourne," says the Serbian Prince calmly. "And yes, I would be willing to trade him for the safe return of Ms. Gray."

He glances a moment at MacGregor, and gives a nod of acknowledgement to the Primogen. He turns his attention back towards Frank.

"So, Sir Mason... what is your answer? Is the Prince of Boston and the other Princes of the northeast willing to send me the aid I need to stave off a horde of angry lupines attacking my court? Or to take vengeance against the other lupines who killed members of my city time and time again, including two of my previous primogen? My war is with the werewolves, and my war is happening presently. Will they send their aid for a Dragon's city besieged? Or are they going to remain in their cities, and march their forces against the Carthians of Portland?"

::Frank rubs his chin some and then snaps his fingers.::

"I'll tell you what, you do what your covenant has sworn to do, actually uphold the standard instead of paying lip service to the first and second estate, and when the walking carpets come a calling, if I am still alive from my tussle with the Texan, I'll be standing with you right here in Manchester."

::The Ventrue says with a smirk.::

"I can't speak on behalf of Worcester, or Springfield or Boston. But I can speak for myself and I'm a man of my word."

::Frank says and crosses his arms over his chest.::

Watching the discussion quietly from the other side of the room Christian Deiahlunty sat in one of the many seats observing and considering everything that was being said. It was quiete obvious that things were about to get...interesting

From looks of what he has seen everyone will be mobilizing for war "friend" and foe alike. It wasnt bad enough that the Pure and the Forsaken were having it out in the streets but now Red is itching for a fight and that could complicate things for Manchester.

The pieces were set and already two pawns have been snatched from both sides. The knights were on stand by and the bishops were ready to flank the enemy. The rooks were also on the defensive at this time and the queen was ready to pounce on its unfortunate prey. Their king standing firm ready to lead the charge. A fine game it is soon to be.

Christian felt a smile spread across his face as he sighed feeling a bit envious. If only Lowell can have this much excitement...

*Seeing the simple nod from the Prince, the Pinkerton calmly stands and collects his hat from the table in front of him. Turning to Blackbourne, he addresses him without urgency or inflection...simply with the same conviction of one pointing out the fact its' raining as they're being pelted in a monsoon*

Sir, my references are impeccable. While my methods are unorthodox, I assure you that the matter will be acted upon with my full attention.

*With that, he nods respectfully to all present before taking up his long coat and looping it carefully around his left arm*

I believe that those concerned with a second war taking place will have no objection to my involvement in making sure this is executed?

::Frank gave the Mehket a nod.::

"Good to see some other signers of the standard are following through on it."

::He said and gave the prince an unamused look.::

He turns to Andrew and slowly walks to him, "I'm sure you're good at something. I just wanna know what it is so you're in the right place when this goes down."

While I can appreciate an accurate appraisal of resources, I don't discuss plans, capabilities, tactics or my actions to anyone. To be frank, it's irrelevant as long as I complete my task under the auspices of my employers and the end results meet with their satisfaction. Having to answer for my actions, especially with those who have seen less than a century, is profoundly aggravating. All I will say is that I've been tasked and the task will be carried out.

*This entire speech was given without eyeblink or inflection. If it wasn't for his mouth moving, you'd almost think he were a statue. No fidgeting, no swaying or adjustment of posture or stance*

Payment will be rendered at a later date for services. Standard agreement.

*Strangely, he doesn't seem to be speaking to Blackbourne when he says this and he doesn't seem to be looking for a response*

::Frank smirked again.::

"That's just what this town needed. More kindred being... Frank."

::The Ventrue said and motioned to MacGregor.::

Adam scoffs, and his eyes narrowed a bit when MacGregor brings up age, "So you get the ends but won't discuss the means. That's the whole reason Red's on my shit list."

*If the scoffing bothers the Sanctum, there's no reaction. Zero movement or blinking. Just continues to stare serenely ahead*

Will that be all? If you'd like your friend returned, and preferably in such a way that does not cause a war, then I would recommend letting me about my work.

*He turns slightly to nod to Frank before bowing his head deeper in respect for the Prince and Sheriff*

Permission to be about this, your Grace?