Night's Omen

Aristide had given him a name, and an address...and that was about it. Frank wasn't really sure what to expect he finally found his destination. He also had the mysterious dagger in his pocket that Aristide had given him. Hopefully it was just a symbolic thing and he wasn't going to have to use it on anyone. He snapped from his thoughts as his GPS chirped at him alerting him to the fact that he was arriving at his destination. He turned his car (a heavily modified 1987 Buick Grand National that was probably his most prized possession) into the drive way of what appeared to be some kind of compound.

Upon entering Frank found himself in some sort of lobby. He heard the quiet echo of voices coming from else where in the building. Totally unsure of what to do Frank paused there for a moment in the door way, trying to determine his next course of action.  As luck would have it he saw a man heading toward the door.

"Excuse me do you know anyone by the name of Batten in this building?" Frank asked.

Much to his surprise the man did in fact know Batten and informed Frank that he was the leader of the Crimson guild, in whose headquarters Frank was currently standing. He told Frank to hang around the lobby and that eventually the guild leader would pass through.

Wondering just what exactly this "guild" was and what they did Frank found a seat along one of the walls. Patience was one thing he had learned from his former career, being able to sit for hours or days waiting on the appearance of a single person. Hopefully the wait wouldn't be too long this time....

Fortunately for Frank, Connor wasn't gone for the day, but actually just coming in.  Really, the guild leader may not have seemed all that impressive to someone of Frank's size and stature, considering Connor was a good eight inches shorter and certainly lighter, even if he wasn't a pushover.  There was a reason he was the leader of such a guild, but it didn't help his initial impressions.  Intimidation wasn't his strong point. 

Walking into the guildhouse and getting a discreet glance from one of his hunters, eyes flicking to the seated man, Connor nodded slightly and put on a smile.  No sense in scaring away whoever this was with a bad temper, even if he wasn't currently thinking that he wanted to deal with someone.  Ah, whatever.  He'd suck it up, and see what this gentleman needed.  More than likely, it'd just be a hit he wanted to have taken care of, which Connor would promise to see taken care of personally, then hand off to another hunter.  If he handled everything 'personally' that people wanted of him, he'd be killing every second of the day.

"Connor Batten," he introduced, offering his hand to shake as he stepped up to the seated man.  "Can I help you with something, sir?"

"Yes Sir, I'm sure you can", Frank said, taking Connor's hand. He released the Guild Leaders hand and reached into his pocket and withdrew the dagger Astride had given him. Before Connor could perceive it as a threat, Frank put the dagger in his hand.

"A man I assume is a mutual friend gave this to me, and told me it would prove to you that I was here...for business...I guess..But truthfully, I really have no idea who you are or what you do. All I have are whispers and rumor...and a tale of horror of my own....perhaps you can help me make sense of things," Frank concluded.

He watched as the man studied the dagger in his hand. He seemed a bit puzzled at first, and after Frank mentioned a mutual friend he seemed to realize that there was more to Frank than meets the eye. Taking a step back...Frank waited anxiously for Connor's reply.

((LOL, careful with the godmodding, there. ))

Connor's first instinct upon seeing a dagger produced was to take a step back, lest that dagger be meant for him.  Having it handed to him wasn't quite fitting with that theory though, and he took a closer look even as Laun mentioned a 'mutual friend'.  He recognized that dagger.  "Shit.  Follow me to my office," he told the man, the tone of his voice suggesting right there that he was a man who was used to being listened to, despite his lack of obvious intimidation factors.

Dagger in hand, he didn't speak again until they'd reached his office, and he shut the door behind his guest.  "You can call that man a 'friend' if you'd like, but I'll settle for something more along the lines of 'untrustworthy business associate'.  That dagger was mine, so the creepy voodoo guy is the only place you could have gotten it from."

If Frank had been paying attention, he'd have noticed that as soon as they had the door shut, the knife went into the empty spot on a rack.  Display, for the moment. 

"So Papa Aristide sent you, but you don't know anything about where you are?" he asked, clarifying as he took a seat in the high-backed, rather comfortable chair behind his desk.  He liked that chair.  A lot.  He gestured for Frank to sit, and opted to at least answer the most obvious of questions.  "As I said, I'm Connor Batten.  I'm the leader of the Crimson Hunter's Guild, which is where you are.  I kill vampires and shapeshifters, as do the hunters I lead.  Now, who are you, and why is Aristide sending you to me?"

((Sorry, I don't know what godmodding is..and I'm a super noob at this so any help/advice is appreciated))

"Well...my name is Frank Laun, and I am a retired United States Marine and Mercenary. Several years ago I was sent to Iran along with a team of Marines under my command to infiltrate a suspected Nuclear facility. Once we got inside however...we realized it wasn't a Nuclear Facility...it was more of a gun running hide out. Then we were attacked. They came from out of no where...and wounded two of my men.  We fell back and detonated C4 charges we had planted during our infiltration. We made out of the facility and headed to our evac zone. While we were waiting for the chopper, two of the attacker's from the bunker just...they just..appeared and resumed the attack. One of my wounded team mates, and the other uninjured member of the team were killed in the attack. I managed to take down one of the attackers, but only after I emptied an entire M4 clip into his chest. About the time I saw him drop, the chopper came beating down. I grabbed my injured team mate, and started dragging him to the chopper. Thats the last thing I remember..but from what I was told, the remaining attacker produced an RPG and fired it at us...killing my partner and severely wounding me with shrapnel. The choppers crew chief opened up with his M60 and another crew member pulled me in. I barely survived. But the thing I remember about all those seemingly invincible attackers..were their eyes..they had black eyes...deep black eyes...horrible black eyes." Frank said.

Frank sat for a moment...it was a difficult story to tell, especially if he wasn't drunk. There was nothing in his system right now to blunt the pain. The whiskey he had consumed at the Mojo Lounge had worn off, and he was just being honest at this point....hoping that Connor Batten could help him.

"A few years later...I got a little drunked up in a Mercenary camp and told this story...and a Merc found me after the others had gone to be and laid it all out for me. He said I had had a run in with Vampires and that there was an entire world out there I didn't know about. i was very drunk and the only things I really remembered were the word Bruja and New York City. So I traveled to New York...and just out of chance I ended up eating dinner in the Mojo Lounge..and somehow, either through destiny or forces I don't understand I ran into Papa Aristide..and after i told him my story...he pointed me in your direction...so...can you help me Mr. Batten?"

Connor listened with a rather neutral expression on his face, just taking in the details.  He had a few ideas as to what these attackers could have been even while Frank was telling it all, but the black eyes was the deciding factor.  Of course, the mention of the mercenary who knew of Bruja was unexpected, and the hunter wondered briefly if it had been someone from his guild, or one of the other two.  There was no way to tell.

Could he help this guy?  Good question.  "Well, that's an interesting story, and you're in one of the right places for something like that, but whether or not I can help you depends on what you want.  I can lay it all out for you, explain things, but you're not going to really have a grip on what you're getting yourself into immediately.  It takes time to really comprehend it all," he informed Frank, watching him carefully for some sort of response for an instant before continuing.

"That guy was right.  There are vampires, there are people we call shapeshifters who can change into animals, and there are witches.  They don't cast spells, use wands, or boil potions in cauldrons, but they can do some crazy shit.  It does sound like you guys were attacked by vampires, so it makes sense that you came here, but let me explain where 'here' is before you make any moves.  This is a hunting guild.  We kill the things that go bump in the night.  It doesn't always go smoothly, and I've lost many people I was friends with and fought alongside here.  If you choose to join up with us, you'll go through some training and be a part of this, and you need to decide if that's the right thing for you to do. 

Do you feel like you can handle being a part of a team, or having a partner?"

That was a big deal, since Connor was never going to just drop a new hunter to the guild on their own.  They got a partner, just like some of the older hunters preferred.  It was both for safety's sake, and to watch them.  If they weren't ready, that partner would know it.

Vampires were bad enough...but shapeshifters...and witches? Frank listened to Connor's explanation carefully. If these things were out there and he had tangled with them once on accident, whats to say it couldn't happen again. Joining this guild that killed these things seemed not much different than the merc work he was doing, albeit more dangerous, but that didn't matter because Frank loved a a challenge.

"Well in my line of work I've come to appreciate the comfort of having someone to watch my back...I never operate with out a partner at least, and a team at best. So hell....I guess sign me up. I was just looking for revenge at first, but things are alot more complicated than that it seems. If all these things are out there, and some of them need killing...well sounds like a job I can handle, and hey...it might even be fun. And trust me Connor...I know a thing or two about losing friends in battle...too many damn things in fact...."

In battle...that was what Frank had lived for his entire adult life. From one battle field to the next, without much in between. He kept in touch with his younger brother..and that was it as far as relationships went. Truthfully Frank would probably be lost if he couldn't find another battle field to walk on to. So here it was...the next battle field...Frank felt a certain happiness in a situation that probably would have terrified any normal man...or any completely "sane" man for that matter.

Connor continued to listen, a feat that his mother would have said was impossible, as Frank spoke.  He could listen when the time came, and this was one of those.  Interviewing potential new hunters always was.  Of course, usually they were younger and less experienced, so this guy was a bit easier.  Connor had his concerns, though.

He always did, it seemed.

"Frank," he started, going with first names because Frank had.  Otherwise, he'd have gone with the man's last name.  "From the sound of it, you're skilled and experienced, which works well here, and big on stealth and planning.  Good Crimson material.  What I worry about is that need of yours for revenge.  I need to know that I can trust you to do what needs to be done, even if that chance for vengeance crops up.  If I'm going to trust you with one of my people for a partner, and giving you jobs that I need done, I have to know that the job and your partner is going to come before anything else, including retribution."

This was the kicker.  If Frank could either impress or satisfy him here, then the next question would be, 'do you have a place to stay?'

Revenge...that was originally his reason for being here...but was it still? Connor seemed to be an earnest, no bullshit kinda guy, and that suited Frank fine. And it also amused Frank slightly to see that Connor had switched to first name like he had, that was just a trick he had picked up over the years from working with edgy people with guns, if they felt comfortable, and first names tended to help that feeling, chances are you weren't going to hit by some guy with an itchy trigger finger in your own squad. He considered the question, and studied his boot for a second. Finally he reached his own mental conclusion and replied:

"Revenge, well revenge is not important at this point. Even if I wanted revenge, I have no idea what I'm up against, no real idea how they operate or even how to completely kill them. Hell, for all I know the one I shot got up after his buddy blasted us. No, revenge is going on the back shelf. Maybe one day, years from now I'll find myself back in Iran, only this time with the knowledge and skill to deal with that bastard. But not today. You've given me an opportunity unlike just about anything else I've ever been offered. I get to kill these...these...I dunno creatures and learn from you and your people. If you're worried about me getting your people killed because I have a thirst for revenge...well put it out of your mind. Other than my own brother, the only people I ever seem to be able to care about are those that fight beside me..so just know, anyone you send out with me, I'll do my damnedest to follow orders and keep myself safe and watch their back. No...the revenge can wait..and besides, the odds of a vampire from all the way over in Iran being in New York are pretty slim right?"

Even as he asked the question he had doubts, because he knew nothing about the creatures. But what he did know was that he was sincere, and he hoped that Connor would see that in his eyes. He was tired of killing for people that had money, and fighting for his country was out, so it seemed that killing these would be for the benefit of mankind..and that sounded like a much more noble cause than revenge.

Well, fortunately for the hunters, killing the monsters that threatened mankind was also a fairly profitable job, particularly since the bad ones made enemies who would pay to have them taken out.  It worked out for everyone involved, except for the ones who made the enemies, but Connor certainly didn't care about their opinions.  Frank's opinion mattered, which was why Connor had asked, but he found the answer to be suitable.  Frank wouldn't be in the field right away, anyway.

"Alright, I'm going to give you a shot at this.  So long as you do what you say you're going to do, we won't have any problems, and you'll be out there killing leeches in no time.  If you screw up particularly badly, we'll be having a drastically different talk.  I'm getting the feeling we won't ever have that talk, but I have to warn you, just in case," he said, and even though Frank towered over him, outweighed him, and even happened to be a year or so older than the Guild Leader before him, Connor suggested that he didn't have the slightest doubt that he could take the other man out if he proved to be a threat. 

The hunter reached into his desk and into a file briefly to pull out a stack of papers, checking to make sure they were all there, and slid them across his desk with a pen.  A scar directly in the center of both the inside and outside of each wrist from being nailed up by them only seemed to encourage the theory that this man could take care of business.  He'd seen and done a lot, and he wasn't going to take anyone's shit.  "I'm going to need these papers filled out before anything starts, and tell me, do you have a place to stay?  We have suites available here in the guildhouse, even if you only need to stay in one temporarily while you get on your feet.  Most hunters make enough money after a few assignments that they get their own place, but staying here has the advantage of higher security and immediate access to all of our facilities," he explained, getting the offer out there while he gave Frank the chance to read over the paperwork.

"I'll be assigning you a partner to get you up to speed on exactly what you're getting yourself into, for training purposes, and for hunting once you're ready.  You'll be training and hunting with Skye LeCroix, and I'll let her know about it.  She'll be in touch."

((Pardon any odd errors...I'm hung over))

Frank listened intently to Connor speak. He knew that in a line of work such as this, screwing up whether badly or not would usually get you a dirt nap, and that was not a thought Frank wanted to entertain. He took the stack of papers that Connor slid towards him. It looked to be the standard contracts and Non Disclosure stuff he was used to as a Merc. He was very relieved at the offer of a place to stay. While Frank was a wealthy man due to family money and his Merc career, he still hated throwing his cash away on a hotel room if he didn't have to.

"Well, Mr. Batten...a place to stay sounds fine, I'm tired of having to shuffle all my weapons and gear back and forth to the car so the hotel maids don't find it. I guess I'll get my stuff and take you up on one of your suites for the time being. I'll also be sure to get all this paperwork squared away for you as quick as I can. And don't worry about me screwing up...I can assure you that I will avoid that at all cost..dying in the field isn't something I'm looking to do. And as soon as you get ahold of my partner send her my way, I'm anxious to learn exactly how to kill these things"

LeCroix....It sounded French..or Cajun. Frank really hoped that he wasn't about to get paired with another crazy coon ass*...they might just end up burning the city down or something.

((*Its a slang term for Cajuns here in Louisiana, kinda like Red Neck or something))

((I actually don't see anything serious, so no worries. ))

Connor nodded, pulling a file out of one of the drawers in that enormous desk (which involved pushing a handgun to the side, something he kept hidden there, just in case) to check for empty quarters for Frank.  After making a note in the file with the date and Frank's name in a spot, he dug around for the appropriate key.  The guild hadn't bothered with something so technologically advanced as keycards, yet.  Why, when keys worked just fine? 

"Here you go, Frank," he remarked, handing the key to him.  "You can get started with Mrs. LeCroix as soon as that paperwork is done, and she's available."

Connor would have actually found it ironic if he'd known what Frank was thinking about Skye's last name.  The humor in it was that he'd been told it was her husband who was actually the 'crazy coon ass', even if he wasn't all that redneck-y.  He was from the appropriate area of the United States, though.  Connor personally thought that if Nick LeCroix and Frank didn't kill each other, they'd probably get along.