01:26:20 Masquerade had finally concluded the festives for the night. Given the disruptions, Viktor had without explanation postponed the Council Meeting. Given it was only the first of many to come, and it had indeed been done before, those parties involved werent greatly put out. After a bit of peace in his private study, time set aside to log the arrival of a new prisoner in the dungeons, he was ready to see to his other guest. Not quite a coward, but experienced enough in the world of these times to know better, he'd requested that the guards barring Ducard's door restrain his hands and ankles to the chair in which he sat. In they had come, one explaining in a curt tone what he had been advised by the master himself, "The master sends his greatest apologies but you will have to be restrained until your true identity and purpose is discussed. He hopes you understand his vigilance during such an event as this." The event itself went unnamed, in case the man was lacking of information upon it; they would not be helping him. -
01:26:41 [Masquerade] - If Beckett did not protest, the more oaf-like of the two came forward, weilding chains rather than rope. Thick and sturdy if not a little rusty. They would be weaved into the furniture twice, and make figure eights on his limbs. This was of course, only if Beckett had allowed it. Viktor meanwhile remained in his study, looking over the guest list; seeing who's name had been crossed off, and who was yet to come. He paused to take a lengthy swig of his own perfected beverage before frowning at the list. It would seem that none other than Sir Cain had become disruptive and somewhat insane since the last Masquerade. He had been sent on his way. This was without saying he would no longer be invited to the event in future and with that, Viktor crossed his name from the list. One less troublemaker to deal with.
01:45:48 [Beckett] - The Ravager would make no movement to acknowledge the entrance of the guards into the room. However, when one of them spoke of the requirement of him being bound in place before the unnamed master would meet with him, his hands, still pressed together, would lower from their position before his face until the forearms were perpendicular to the floor. Once this slow and deliberate action was taken, Ducard would slowly lift his head to allow his crimson orbs to gaze through those dark lenses upon the one who spoke. There was no expression upon the pale face of the Beast as his eyes, if they were visible, would bore fine holes through the guard. "If you seek to bind me," he says in a chilling tone, his voice very near to a growl. "It will be your last mistake. You speak of vigilance, but you act of abuse. Perhaps you, or your master, or even both, are unaware that my confinement within this room was not a precaution taken because of my unsuspected arrival here." Slowly, those hands would <C>
01:45:52 [Beckett] draw back from their extended position, before parting and coming to rest on the Ravager's knees. "I have been nothing but courteous," he continues, his words, like his actions, slow and methodical. "And civil. I have sacrificed much for the sake of demonstrating that I am not a threat to the goings-on of your master. Yet, he, and thereby you, seek for me to give even more, seek to take whatever can be taken." Pressing against his knees, the Beast would make to stand, reaching down to take hold of the satchel and draw it up to sling it's strap over his shoulder again. "But there will be no further gifts," he adds, his brow furrowing in a tell-tale sign that his eyes were narrowing. "I will give no more for the sake of your master's desire for control." With his hand rested rather lazily atop the flap of the satchel -- whose clasp remained undone --, Ducard would continue to eye the man. Smart enough to gauge one's body language for signs of potential conflict, he would be <C>
01:46:30 [Beckett] prepared if a charge was to be made. The pistol inside of the satchel was already loaded and ready to do it's work, requiring only to be cocked before firing. "So I will decline your master's wishes," he states rather bluntly. "And will do so with my deepest of disrespects for lack of manners. And I will request that my way to the door be shown, my exit unhindered. I came not to harm and I expect the same courtesy to be given, even if other courtesies have been refused. My hospitality will not be given again, in light of the insult it has just received."
02:07:32 [Masquerade] Viktor had been sent for by Eamon seeing as the servant had assumed the binding would be tended to before he'd even made it to the Master's chambers. Viktor but nodded and set aside the guest book, before exiting and locking the room with a key only he posessed. It was tucked away on a chain down his shirt, beneath his cravat. Unseen, and not a hinderence. Meanwhile the guards had stood, taken aback. Neither went to bind him by force given that they had been given strict instructions not to harm, or engage in combat with the unknown stranger. They stood back, not quite clever enough to say anything particularly winning. In fact, with a shrug one turned to the door, only to bet with the face of Viktor. He, who had just caught the last sentence or two of Beckett's spiel. His expression did not change; even the slightests brow raise might have been seen as offensive and this man, could potentially be helpful. He stood in the doorway, arms tucking behind his back. He was ready to move, to shift. Viktor need -
02:08:05 [Masquerade] - only manoever his body as to twist side on should the man try to attack him though, it was doubtful he would. With three men, Eamon included, Beckett was unlikely to win should he dare. "Forgive me Sir.. Ducard, of my tardiness. I'm afraid I was otherwise engaged." He paused momentarily to let the greeting sink in. "I see I have come too late, you mean to leave?" The servant with the chains noted curtly "He is offended by our want to bind him." To this Viktor merely frowned. "Do not interrupt our dear guest, Merick." His piercing gaze turned back to Beckett. "Offended? I do so hope not. The restraints.." Reaching out, his fingertips came to brush against the cool metal that Merick held. Notably, the man was close enough for Viktor to slide behind, should he need to. "Were mere precaution in mind of our guests. You are aware that there are many noble ladies beneath my roof this night, no?" Reasonable as ever, he continued before the other could get a word in edgewise. "Would you say their guardians would -
02:08:21 [Masquerade] - would have allowed them to attend the festives, if they knew we housed foreign strangers? One's who could potentially be dangerous?" His hand rose to brush against his chin a moment. "Mere precaution though, we will make the exception if you distaste it so.." The exception of course, was only if the man was willing to stay in his little dungeon. If he dared advance to the door, he could be sure that all four men would fight to the death to keep him in their power; The Masquerade would go on without upset, no matter how many lives it took.
02:36:20 [Beckett] - At the most exquisitely dressed -- the speaker -- the gaze of the Ravager would turn. It would take a fool not to realize that this was the guards' master. Following the speech of the man, that ever-large, predatory grin would spread across his face, his teeth readily visible in the humorless parting of those pale lips. "If the safety of your guests was your aim," comes a response rather quickly, though in a calm, if cold tone. "Then my permittance to your ball would have never been offered and my confinement in this room would not have come at my personal request." As he spoke, the Beast remained where he stood. He was still a fair distance away from the guard who had issued the orders of the master and significantly further from the doorway, where the others stood. "I would have been informed," continues Ducard. "Of the precautions that would be necessary prior to my foot passing your threshold. Do you not think that if I meant to be destructive to the..." <C>
02:36:36 [Beckett] "... nobles you are hosting or yourself, that I would have taken the opportunity to enter the ball room, where the dancing and flaunting of fortunes would force you to stay your hand so as not to create an earlier disruption before I committed whatever atrocity was my intent?" The facts were absolutely that, the facts. And by presenting them so bluntly, the excuses that were presented were undermined absolutely. "Instead," those brows furrow more as the eyes behind the lenses narrow further. "I took the precautions when they were not presented, and offered them in your stead. Perhaps those that you normally host are so easily swayed by your words, but when they are backed by falsehood, they crumble like loosely packed sand." It was not lost to the Ravager that his exit was most assuredly blocked, by more than one individual. "Unfortunately," words continued to flow, those these hinted at an underlying disdain. <C>
02:36:40 [Beckett] "I can see that even my latest request will be denied, and that my observation of your desire for control turns true. I intend to leave, and will do so. I'd have preferred that we can part civilly, despite the pretense that has determined the necessity." Even as he spoke, Ducard made no movements. Instead, he kept his left hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket while the right rested atop that satchel. The numbers weren't something that Ravager worried about, as it would only take a single shot apiece to dwindle them, and perhaps deter further hostilities after the first one or two had been felled. As far as he could tell and suspect, he was the only one with a functioning firearm on his person. The necessary equipment to have one accessible required too much space for any of the well-dressed guards to have worn about them. And a noble wouldn't dare carry one, as it undermined the sophistication that they flaunted. Furthermore, the need for firearms was beneath a noble's home, as <C>
02:36:52 [Beckett] they were often considered unsophisticated and even vulgar. Including in this the fact that an errant shot could do a great deal of damage, which would then have to be repair, made it all too unlikely that there were such technological advanced weapons in the employ of those who upheld tradition as much as these nobles. Perhaps there was a firearm in a study somewhere, fawned over as a 'toy', but walking the halls, they just weren't practical.
02:52:37 Masquerade his brows raised slightly. "You present a good argument, friend." But in trusting you on my grounds alone, I have put my guests in danger. Something of which, I intend not to regret." A meaningful stare was sent the man's way. "Regardless of whether or not you requested your own refinement you are sitll a danger to those in my humble abode." His head came to a calculated tilt before be proceeded with his explanation. "For all I was aware, you could easily have killed my trusted guards and freed yourself from this... fickle 'dungeon.' " He looked about the room, even knocking against the now closed door behind him. "Not too thick, eh? I'm sure a strong.." Well, he was beastly, no? "Man like yourself could break it down with little trouble. And, perhaps.. Perhaps you are faster, or stronger than my servants? What then? Why.." A gentle, good natured smile caught his lips. "You could kill me. And a good portion of my guests if you so intended it. By not harming you, well. By not harming -
02:53:00 [Masquerade] -anything but your pride with fickle chains, of which you would have worn no more than an hour... I would have certified the safety and preservation of all the lives in my manor." He wasn't one to be outdone in a debate, most especially not when he was in the right. "A fair trade, no? Your pride for but an hour, in return for a hundred or so lives?" Counting his servants. There was only forty odd guests arrived as of yet. "Now.. Sir Ducard. Despite any danger that you might pose to myself, my friends and family I allowed you to enter my home. I granted you with a comfortable room, and a comfortable meal rather than a dungeon. You had the chance to sleep and dine in the same comfort I bestow upon my most special guests. Have I been so unreasonable? Have I not taken the first chance away from my guests to see to your purpose?" At this point, Viktor's brows raised. "I could have easily gone to my chambers to rest my weary head, but I thought it would be most unchivalrous not to tend to a guest as soon -
02:53:26 [Masquerade] - as soon as I possibly can." A hand extended as a peace offering, not to shake but instead, gesturing to the seat Beckett had after hours, chosen to vacate. "Do, sit." Would he comply? Hopefully. Viktor couldn't let a somewhat hostile stranger to walk through his manor, even if it was simply to get out.
03:17:17 [Beckett] - It could be argued which of the two were in the right, but 'the right' was only a matter of perspective. From Viktor's standpoint, he was right in regards to the precautions he was meaning to take when compared to the reasons that were given. Certainly, Ducard classified as a potential threat. He was entirely unknown within the manor, so his capabilities could not be determined, especially since he had made no motion to present them. However, from his own standpoint, he was in the right for what he had already mentioned. He had made requests for the precautions that had not been presented when they should have. He had assured that he would be confined for Viktor to see at his leisure. After listening to what Viktor had to say, the Ravager had to force back a laugh. "Did you take the first opportunity?" he said, the spite in his voice nearly palpable. "I've been locked in this room, at the furthest corner of your estate, since I arrived. Yes, it came at my personal request, but..." <C>
03:17:21 [Beckett] "... the location of such makes knowing your opportunities impossible, friend." The same measure of emphasis on that word that was given is returned. Rather than taking the invitation to seat himself, the Beast chose to remain standing, even stepping around behind the chair so as to remove the hand from his jacket pocket and place the forearm across the back as he leaned upon it. "What you have done in the interim," the words come after he has assumed such position. "Is merely whatever you wish to tell me, and carries no more or less truth than I desire to accept." The Ravager was nothing if not capable of carrying on such a conversation, for as long as was necessary, maintaining his civility in the face of what was before him, even if he would have preferred to utilize the pistol at his disposal. "As for the lives," he adds amidst a cold, humorless chuckle. "You present the number as if it carried any weight. And by doing so, you..." <C>
03:17:27 [Beckett] "...convey that you expect to be a danger. That I am somehow a hostile intrude that has inserted myself within your home to bring about a sinister end, to people or property, perhaps even both. I have placed none in jeopardy beyond those whom seek to keep me under their thumb. As stated, I could have taken the offer to join the ball and employed whatever means I'd chosen. Considering I have not done so, it is unnecessary for me to sacrifice my pride for your sake, or for anyone's sake."
03:17:51 [Beckett] "..expect me to be a danger." *
03:37:01 Masquerade 's brows rose again. "Indeed I did. Forgive me but the last of my guests retired to their chambers ten or so minutes before now. I came rather quickly, no? It is not the furthest corner but a currently empty one, in an attempt to keep my other guests from finding out that I potentially endangered their lives. That would not make me the greatest host, I'd assume" He frowned a little, before shrugging his shoulders. He had no reason to lie and so spoke truthfully, "In the interim i saw to servants who issued the removal of an unruly guest, whilst also checking the status of theif who broke into one of the lower floors earlier. I then sent word for you to be bound, in the meantime I busied myself with reviewing my guest list." His head dipped almost apologetically. "I personally do not care for the frivoloties of the ballroom but as host, my presence was compulsory; else, I'd have seen you earlier." Now, Viktor gave a minimal shrug, his gaze intent on Beckett's. "Whether you choose to believe me is like you -
03:37:20 [Masquerade] -said, at your own discretion." His chuckle was met with a slight incline of his chin, eyes narrowing if not in slight irritation, but speculation. "I do. Whilst I am almost certain you are a danger, and will believe so until you prove otherwise, I had enough care for your possible important purpose, to allow your entrance into my home. Close to myself, close to my family, close to every single noble and person of high stature who invested their trust in me." He released a loud sigh before crossing his arms over his chest. "You have not proven to be hostile, save for our current argument. And so if it such a bother for you, the binding will be excluded in our interview. I however, most unfortunately, cannot simply allow you to leave." He raised a hand, as if to stop him from talking. "Before you protest, I will note that; If someone were so intent on seeing to my estate that they would travel many lands, and I am sure you have by your foreign airs, and to even request they be imprisoned in my house.. Well, I-
03:37:34 [Masquerade] -can only assume that whatever you had wanted was of importance. Whether it is dangerous or not, it carries importance. For this reason, I can hardly expect when one has sacrificed so much to simply attend my humble abode, that they mean to leave for the mere offense of chains." Fingers tapped idly against his own arm, and his gaze drifted over the room. "I hardly believe that you'd leave without any trouble after all that has been done, and so I would much prefer it dear guest, if you would remain. It would be an unfortunate waste of your precious time if after all this, you didn't get what it was you wanted?" With that said, Viktor drew up another chair for himself before gesturing once more to the chair Beckett had vacated. "Now do sit, I will trust you without binding but all I ask is that you sit. Tell me why you are here, Ducard." His tone was not forboding but pleasant and reasonable. He simply wanted the interview done, so that he could go down to the dungeons and see about the other prisoners before-
03:37:53 [Masquerade] -retreating to his chambers. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he would never get there. With a grimace, the man recalled that he'd have to do all of this over, the very next day. As for the chair? His hand remained on his back, he was poised ready to sit, but would not do so until Beckett followed sit. Was it too much for this man to be reasonable? Bah!
04:13:25 [Beckett] - If only to humor the affluent noble, Ducard would move to take his seat. However, it would not be in the form of when he stepped around it. Instead, his left hand would crasp the corner of the chair and tip it to the side. Just a slight tilt back with a steady grip thereon would allow it to twist enough that the legs would not present a hindrance. A step of the left foot forward as his body turned just a bit away from the chair would position himself so that the chair could first be set back on it's left legs before tilted back down to rest on all-fours to allow him to seat himself, albeit on the edge. "Perhaps you forget," the Ravager remarks rather bluntly. "That time, for those such as you and I, is not nearly as precious as it is for those who have a limited supply." As immortals, those of the vampiric variety need not be so rushed with time, as it merely turned on and on for them, their unlives eternal until ended in violence. "But I digress," he adds after a short moment. <C>
04:13:36 [Beckett] "If it is a civil conversation that you seek, then a civil conversation shall be given. I shall momentarily suspend my distaste at the most recent of events, and allow my desire to leave be rescinded pending further judgement." This was not to say that he intended to stay, as he still was quite intent on leaving. However, he would afford this as-yet-to-be-named noble the interview that he desired. "As for my purpose of coming," the Beast sat back in the chair, placing his left hand on his left knee even whilst the right remained atop the satchel. "There are many. They come with the banner of territory, of unification, of information and a myriad of others." That predatory grin began to spread back across those pale lips. "While we are of a kind," the Ravager remarks. "We are also at juxtaposition to one another. You are of tradition, the likes of which have been upheld throughout the ages. Of the wealthy and affluent holding court with others of..." <C>
04:14:27 [Beckett] "...equal station. Of maintaining the status quo, where the rich expand their own civil emperors through arranged marriages that give way to acquisitions. I used to be like you." That grin spread impossibly further at the remark of having been of the kind at one point of time. "I used to want for more," he continues, his words seeming to come with a his through his vastly spread lips. "And used to employ whatever tactics, both savory and otherwise, to either maintain or expand the influence and power that I could muster at my desire, for whatever end I could fathom." There was a pause. However, should Viktor try to get a word in, the Beast would lean forward, his lips parting to speak again. "Tell me," he begins his conclusion. "Do you house and host such extravagence? Aside from the fleeting distraction it affords."
04:28:55 Masquerade was relieved, but did not outwardly give any hint of such. Instead he, in less of a performance than he so provided, seated himself. Now the two were opposite each other, but a desk between them. A civil conversation? Good, then there would at least for now, be some sort of peace between them. A breath of relief seemed to leave the attending footmen and they hung back, close enough to lunge into action should Beckett threaten any of their lives, or attempt to leave without the master's approval. Brows then rose at the revelation. "Then I would suppose you are in the right place." Given that he was indeed hosting The Masquerade, the most important polotical meeting between those eternally damned.. well, he need look no further, no? He was neither intimidated or irritated by his grin, but simply met the expression with his usual stoic manner. "As you can see, my house is a fickle portrayal of extravegance." He sighed, irritated with himself for having to admit such. "I will have you know, it displeases me. -
04:29:12 [Masquerade] - I do not wish to conform to the greed and approval of society and yet, to have any say in the politcal choices of our race, to have any influence upon the safety of those I care for, I must." I hand rose, massaging his brow almost painfully. "You used to be like me? You used to deal with these ridiculous..pathetic events? It is a torment, is it not? That we must deal with this eternally.." He had more than an inkling that his answer depended on Beckett's continual civility, and that the wrong answer could only bring things crumbling. For a fleeting moment, he didn't care. What was his life? Didn't he want this eternal torment to end? No. For then he could not protect them. Those who he damned to his same fate. With a sigh, Viktor merely muttered "Such is life.."
05:05:16 [Beckett] - The Ravager knew well of what the unnamed master of the manor spoke. The traditional route to being able to have a say in anything that concerned their race as a whole was to possess enough power and wealth to be afforded such courtesies by others whom have the same. Having once been human, the system which governed the kindred society was derived from the caste system that still ruled the world. And did so through the affluence of what would later be coined 'the almighty dollar'. Greed is what controlled the nations of the world, the possession or ability to acquire things that were believed to be valuable. If one had a great number of things, or the ability to acquire them, then they held prestige, even if they, personally, had not earned it. Staring across the desk, the Beast would nod. "For most," he responds, his grin having faded in light of a more stoic poise at the willing revelation of lament. "The only way to achieve such things is to attain such a station." <C>
05:05:23 [Beckett] There is a pause, as Ducard leans back in his seat, having slid back so that he is legitimately sitting, rather than seeming to be physically imposing himself from across the desk. "There exist other methods," the renowned hunter states plainly. "Of achieving one's goals. Though the road to getting there is far from easy, and it's not as smooth sailing as being a political marionette." He was, of course, speaking from experience and in truth. Ducard, be it under this alias or one of his others, had a substantial amount of his own clout in a broad number of circles -- albeit not this one, yet. And he had achieved that through his ability to deliver things that could not be bought, provide knowledge which could not be found and other things that he would prefer remain below the radar, as another future phrase would be coined. "I do not advise it," <C>
05:05:33 [Beckett] he adds. "For it presents great risk for those that you care for, and your reason for doing as you do. And it is not as concrete as the methods you now employ and agonize through. It is a road whose safety hinges upon the wealth of what your services are attributed. And keeping that worth is a lifestyle, much as the lifestyle you must conform to now." Leaning back, the Beast lifted a hand to remove the hat from atop his head. It was quite unlike him to speak so truthfully and honest to another, especially another kindred. But, quite honestly, there was no risk involved to himself, no need to emply smoke or mirrors or to misdirect the noble. In truth, there was a kinship that existed beneath the surface, a similarity between this unnamed nobleman and himself, whom had also acquired and still retained a rather large disdain for the formalities such a political position required. "That aside," he adds with a quick flash of that predatory grin. "I don't like competition."
05:30:07 Masquerade didn't interrupt him, merely listening; actually eager to hear his opinion on the matter. Upon his latest revelation, a wry smirk caught his lips. Ironic that this stranger had been better company than his gentlemen guests. Those of whom had merely spoke endlessly, debating over land, marriages, horseflesh and other unimportant things. "Ah." His hand raked through his somewhat dishevelled fair locks. e radiated the presence of a physically and emotionally exhausted man. All day had been spent with tiresome nobles, and if they werent enough? Obstacle after obstacle had been dealt his way. First a troublesome servant who'd made a mockery of his house by not tending to her duties and simply locking herself in the cellar to drink away his work, Jonah Cain attempting to disolve the century old Masquerade treaty, Jonah Cain again almost installing a rebellion within his servants upon their poor treatment, Jonah Cain's removal from the residence. This was without saying he was a council member and now his seat -
05:30:29 [Masquerade] - would be empty. And the seat of another? His was to be filled by a mere servant who he'd sent in his stead. Then there was of course Beckett's strange appearance, the matter of Luz now that her company was gone, the blind thief and more. Could the day have become anymore problematic? Really, could it have? Losing his careful airs with Beckett, Viktor settled into his chair, his usually impeccable posture slouched against the seat. He turned to wave off his servants before facing him once more. The vampire said nothing, but waited for the beast to begin speaking.
06:00:16 [Beckett] - Quite a curious turn of events, that of all individuals to unmask the true individual beneath the pompously-clad manor's master, it would be the Ravager, the Beast, the gentleman whom sought the destruction of the old way even as he reaped the benefits of it. Being of the colonies on their initial founding, the man who was now but a pale rendition of his former self still carried within him the fires of rebellion. Counter-culture, the world would call it in time. While the world continued it's seemingly endless expanse and the nations thereof continued within their pettiness of restricting themselves and retaining suspiciousness of outsiders, of foreigners, the man that was Ducard, as known in Spain, defied this. Originally, he had sought to travel the world to uncover the untold secrets of those that came before him. Now, while he continued this end, he had also taken a decidely darker turn since the advent of his death. He still crawled through tombs, evaded traps and toussled <C>
06:00:20 [Beckett] with supernatural guardians, but he did so for more than just study. Now, he was something of an undesirable to the modern world, atleast the modern historical society. More than once had he attended a lecture or meeting with those of the archaeological circles to hear of a baffled outrage that a tomb had finally been unlocked, only to find the most treasured of artifacts to have been missing, and signs of an disturbance giving unforetold reasons. In these instances, the Beast was forced to employ his guile, required to hold his tongue. For more often than not, it was he whom had already taken the treasure and delivered it in exchange for favor of one sort or another. The reason he would know that the doing was his own was simple: he, of nearly all tomb raiders, took the time to resecure the bindings that held the tombs closed in the first place. As still a student of <C>
06:00:26 [Beckett] archaeology, even if one whose experience in the field bested most of his 'compatriots', in both archaeological discoveries as well as sheer years of services, of which his race granted him a vast number beyond the rather short lives of humans. Continuing to gaze across the table at the seemingly relaxing Viktor, the Beast would withdraw his hand from the satchel. It was well apparent that there was no risk. The servants had been dismissed, the master had relaxed, and, in terms of the conversation, it seemed that both were at ease. On some level, the Ravager felt for the undead lord, whom had to leap through hoops so as to secure safety for those he felt responsible for. The same had been true for Ducard some time ago. Yes, despite his wanderlust, he had his own charges, his own people that he had chosen to place beneath the umbrella of his protection. Unfortunately, <C>
06:00:31 [Beckett] disputes that were frequent between nobles brought about the end of such things, tore free from the Beast the last vestige of his true humanity and uncaged him. But still, there was civility within him, some of which was not forced, but true. There was compassion to be found, though it was most oft stressed and waned quickly when encountered with the impetuous likes of nobles, either human or otherwise. Yet, it was showing, if only a touch, in the conversation with Viktor. "You are," he speaks after a length of time, that flash of grin being long lost in the interim. "I am sure, curious as to who I am, just as much as you are for why I am here. As the latter has been revealed, in part, I shall expand upon the former. I am Ducard, as you are aware. But it is not my only name. Being as I know a secret of your's, I shall ease further regret of having revealed it by giving a secret of my own. Within our society, I am also known in England as the wayward historian Law, and in..." <C>
06:00:37 [Beckett] "...France as the procurer Beckett. What I do is retrieve antiquities from their resting place, or perhaps elsewhere, in return for services of varying masters of covens and treatises. The statuette that was given to your servant comes from a tomb in mid-southern Africa." There was likely more to the story, but that would have to be, at the very least, requested. The Beast wasn't going to reveal all, now was he?
01:26:41 [Masquerade] - If Beckett did not protest, the more oaf-like of the two came forward, weilding chains rather than rope. Thick and sturdy if not a little rusty. They would be weaved into the furniture twice, and make figure eights on his limbs. This was of course, only if Beckett had allowed it. Viktor meanwhile remained in his study, looking over the guest list; seeing who's name had been crossed off, and who was yet to come. He paused to take a lengthy swig of his own perfected beverage before frowning at the list. It would seem that none other than Sir Cain had become disruptive and somewhat insane since the last Masquerade. He had been sent on his way. This was without saying he would no longer be invited to the event in future and with that, Viktor crossed his name from the list. One less troublemaker to deal with.
01:45:48 [Beckett] - The Ravager would make no movement to acknowledge the entrance of the guards into the room. However, when one of them spoke of the requirement of him being bound in place before the unnamed master would meet with him, his hands, still pressed together, would lower from their position before his face until the forearms were perpendicular to the floor. Once this slow and deliberate action was taken, Ducard would slowly lift his head to allow his crimson orbs to gaze through those dark lenses upon the one who spoke. There was no expression upon the pale face of the Beast as his eyes, if they were visible, would bore fine holes through the guard. "If you seek to bind me," he says in a chilling tone, his voice very near to a growl. "It will be your last mistake. You speak of vigilance, but you act of abuse. Perhaps you, or your master, or even both, are unaware that my confinement within this room was not a precaution taken because of my unsuspected arrival here." Slowly, those hands would <C>
01:45:52 [Beckett] draw back from their extended position, before parting and coming to rest on the Ravager's knees. "I have been nothing but courteous," he continues, his words, like his actions, slow and methodical. "And civil. I have sacrificed much for the sake of demonstrating that I am not a threat to the goings-on of your master. Yet, he, and thereby you, seek for me to give even more, seek to take whatever can be taken." Pressing against his knees, the Beast would make to stand, reaching down to take hold of the satchel and draw it up to sling it's strap over his shoulder again. "But there will be no further gifts," he adds, his brow furrowing in a tell-tale sign that his eyes were narrowing. "I will give no more for the sake of your master's desire for control." With his hand rested rather lazily atop the flap of the satchel -- whose clasp remained undone --, Ducard would continue to eye the man. Smart enough to gauge one's body language for signs of potential conflict, he would be <C>
01:46:30 [Beckett] prepared if a charge was to be made. The pistol inside of the satchel was already loaded and ready to do it's work, requiring only to be cocked before firing. "So I will decline your master's wishes," he states rather bluntly. "And will do so with my deepest of disrespects for lack of manners. And I will request that my way to the door be shown, my exit unhindered. I came not to harm and I expect the same courtesy to be given, even if other courtesies have been refused. My hospitality will not be given again, in light of the insult it has just received."
02:07:32 [Masquerade] Viktor had been sent for by Eamon seeing as the servant had assumed the binding would be tended to before he'd even made it to the Master's chambers. Viktor but nodded and set aside the guest book, before exiting and locking the room with a key only he posessed. It was tucked away on a chain down his shirt, beneath his cravat. Unseen, and not a hinderence. Meanwhile the guards had stood, taken aback. Neither went to bind him by force given that they had been given strict instructions not to harm, or engage in combat with the unknown stranger. They stood back, not quite clever enough to say anything particularly winning. In fact, with a shrug one turned to the door, only to bet with the face of Viktor. He, who had just caught the last sentence or two of Beckett's spiel. His expression did not change; even the slightests brow raise might have been seen as offensive and this man, could potentially be helpful. He stood in the doorway, arms tucking behind his back. He was ready to move, to shift. Viktor need -
02:08:05 [Masquerade] - only manoever his body as to twist side on should the man try to attack him though, it was doubtful he would. With three men, Eamon included, Beckett was unlikely to win should he dare. "Forgive me Sir.. Ducard, of my tardiness. I'm afraid I was otherwise engaged." He paused momentarily to let the greeting sink in. "I see I have come too late, you mean to leave?" The servant with the chains noted curtly "He is offended by our want to bind him." To this Viktor merely frowned. "Do not interrupt our dear guest, Merick." His piercing gaze turned back to Beckett. "Offended? I do so hope not. The restraints.." Reaching out, his fingertips came to brush against the cool metal that Merick held. Notably, the man was close enough for Viktor to slide behind, should he need to. "Were mere precaution in mind of our guests. You are aware that there are many noble ladies beneath my roof this night, no?" Reasonable as ever, he continued before the other could get a word in edgewise. "Would you say their guardians would -
02:08:21 [Masquerade] - would have allowed them to attend the festives, if they knew we housed foreign strangers? One's who could potentially be dangerous?" His hand rose to brush against his chin a moment. "Mere precaution though, we will make the exception if you distaste it so.." The exception of course, was only if the man was willing to stay in his little dungeon. If he dared advance to the door, he could be sure that all four men would fight to the death to keep him in their power; The Masquerade would go on without upset, no matter how many lives it took.
02:36:20 [Beckett] - At the most exquisitely dressed -- the speaker -- the gaze of the Ravager would turn. It would take a fool not to realize that this was the guards' master. Following the speech of the man, that ever-large, predatory grin would spread across his face, his teeth readily visible in the humorless parting of those pale lips. "If the safety of your guests was your aim," comes a response rather quickly, though in a calm, if cold tone. "Then my permittance to your ball would have never been offered and my confinement in this room would not have come at my personal request." As he spoke, the Beast remained where he stood. He was still a fair distance away from the guard who had issued the orders of the master and significantly further from the doorway, where the others stood. "I would have been informed," continues Ducard. "Of the precautions that would be necessary prior to my foot passing your threshold. Do you not think that if I meant to be destructive to the..." <C>
02:36:36 [Beckett] "... nobles you are hosting or yourself, that I would have taken the opportunity to enter the ball room, where the dancing and flaunting of fortunes would force you to stay your hand so as not to create an earlier disruption before I committed whatever atrocity was my intent?" The facts were absolutely that, the facts. And by presenting them so bluntly, the excuses that were presented were undermined absolutely. "Instead," those brows furrow more as the eyes behind the lenses narrow further. "I took the precautions when they were not presented, and offered them in your stead. Perhaps those that you normally host are so easily swayed by your words, but when they are backed by falsehood, they crumble like loosely packed sand." It was not lost to the Ravager that his exit was most assuredly blocked, by more than one individual. "Unfortunately," words continued to flow, those these hinted at an underlying disdain. <C>
02:36:40 [Beckett] "I can see that even my latest request will be denied, and that my observation of your desire for control turns true. I intend to leave, and will do so. I'd have preferred that we can part civilly, despite the pretense that has determined the necessity." Even as he spoke, Ducard made no movements. Instead, he kept his left hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket while the right rested atop that satchel. The numbers weren't something that Ravager worried about, as it would only take a single shot apiece to dwindle them, and perhaps deter further hostilities after the first one or two had been felled. As far as he could tell and suspect, he was the only one with a functioning firearm on his person. The necessary equipment to have one accessible required too much space for any of the well-dressed guards to have worn about them. And a noble wouldn't dare carry one, as it undermined the sophistication that they flaunted. Furthermore, the need for firearms was beneath a noble's home, as <C>
02:36:52 [Beckett] they were often considered unsophisticated and even vulgar. Including in this the fact that an errant shot could do a great deal of damage, which would then have to be repair, made it all too unlikely that there were such technological advanced weapons in the employ of those who upheld tradition as much as these nobles. Perhaps there was a firearm in a study somewhere, fawned over as a 'toy', but walking the halls, they just weren't practical.
02:52:37 Masquerade his brows raised slightly. "You present a good argument, friend." But in trusting you on my grounds alone, I have put my guests in danger. Something of which, I intend not to regret." A meaningful stare was sent the man's way. "Regardless of whether or not you requested your own refinement you are sitll a danger to those in my humble abode." His head came to a calculated tilt before be proceeded with his explanation. "For all I was aware, you could easily have killed my trusted guards and freed yourself from this... fickle 'dungeon.' " He looked about the room, even knocking against the now closed door behind him. "Not too thick, eh? I'm sure a strong.." Well, he was beastly, no? "Man like yourself could break it down with little trouble. And, perhaps.. Perhaps you are faster, or stronger than my servants? What then? Why.." A gentle, good natured smile caught his lips. "You could kill me. And a good portion of my guests if you so intended it. By not harming you, well. By not harming -
02:53:00 [Masquerade] -anything but your pride with fickle chains, of which you would have worn no more than an hour... I would have certified the safety and preservation of all the lives in my manor." He wasn't one to be outdone in a debate, most especially not when he was in the right. "A fair trade, no? Your pride for but an hour, in return for a hundred or so lives?" Counting his servants. There was only forty odd guests arrived as of yet. "Now.. Sir Ducard. Despite any danger that you might pose to myself, my friends and family I allowed you to enter my home. I granted you with a comfortable room, and a comfortable meal rather than a dungeon. You had the chance to sleep and dine in the same comfort I bestow upon my most special guests. Have I been so unreasonable? Have I not taken the first chance away from my guests to see to your purpose?" At this point, Viktor's brows raised. "I could have easily gone to my chambers to rest my weary head, but I thought it would be most unchivalrous not to tend to a guest as soon -
02:53:26 [Masquerade] - as soon as I possibly can." A hand extended as a peace offering, not to shake but instead, gesturing to the seat Beckett had after hours, chosen to vacate. "Do, sit." Would he comply? Hopefully. Viktor couldn't let a somewhat hostile stranger to walk through his manor, even if it was simply to get out.
03:17:17 [Beckett] - It could be argued which of the two were in the right, but 'the right' was only a matter of perspective. From Viktor's standpoint, he was right in regards to the precautions he was meaning to take when compared to the reasons that were given. Certainly, Ducard classified as a potential threat. He was entirely unknown within the manor, so his capabilities could not be determined, especially since he had made no motion to present them. However, from his own standpoint, he was in the right for what he had already mentioned. He had made requests for the precautions that had not been presented when they should have. He had assured that he would be confined for Viktor to see at his leisure. After listening to what Viktor had to say, the Ravager had to force back a laugh. "Did you take the first opportunity?" he said, the spite in his voice nearly palpable. "I've been locked in this room, at the furthest corner of your estate, since I arrived. Yes, it came at my personal request, but..." <C>
03:17:21 [Beckett] "... the location of such makes knowing your opportunities impossible, friend." The same measure of emphasis on that word that was given is returned. Rather than taking the invitation to seat himself, the Beast chose to remain standing, even stepping around behind the chair so as to remove the hand from his jacket pocket and place the forearm across the back as he leaned upon it. "What you have done in the interim," the words come after he has assumed such position. "Is merely whatever you wish to tell me, and carries no more or less truth than I desire to accept." The Ravager was nothing if not capable of carrying on such a conversation, for as long as was necessary, maintaining his civility in the face of what was before him, even if he would have preferred to utilize the pistol at his disposal. "As for the lives," he adds amidst a cold, humorless chuckle. "You present the number as if it carried any weight. And by doing so, you..." <C>
03:17:27 [Beckett] "...convey that you expect to be a danger. That I am somehow a hostile intrude that has inserted myself within your home to bring about a sinister end, to people or property, perhaps even both. I have placed none in jeopardy beyond those whom seek to keep me under their thumb. As stated, I could have taken the offer to join the ball and employed whatever means I'd chosen. Considering I have not done so, it is unnecessary for me to sacrifice my pride for your sake, or for anyone's sake."
03:17:51 [Beckett] "..expect me to be a danger." *
03:37:01 Masquerade 's brows rose again. "Indeed I did. Forgive me but the last of my guests retired to their chambers ten or so minutes before now. I came rather quickly, no? It is not the furthest corner but a currently empty one, in an attempt to keep my other guests from finding out that I potentially endangered their lives. That would not make me the greatest host, I'd assume" He frowned a little, before shrugging his shoulders. He had no reason to lie and so spoke truthfully, "In the interim i saw to servants who issued the removal of an unruly guest, whilst also checking the status of theif who broke into one of the lower floors earlier. I then sent word for you to be bound, in the meantime I busied myself with reviewing my guest list." His head dipped almost apologetically. "I personally do not care for the frivoloties of the ballroom but as host, my presence was compulsory; else, I'd have seen you earlier." Now, Viktor gave a minimal shrug, his gaze intent on Beckett's. "Whether you choose to believe me is like you -
03:37:20 [Masquerade] -said, at your own discretion." His chuckle was met with a slight incline of his chin, eyes narrowing if not in slight irritation, but speculation. "I do. Whilst I am almost certain you are a danger, and will believe so until you prove otherwise, I had enough care for your possible important purpose, to allow your entrance into my home. Close to myself, close to my family, close to every single noble and person of high stature who invested their trust in me." He released a loud sigh before crossing his arms over his chest. "You have not proven to be hostile, save for our current argument. And so if it such a bother for you, the binding will be excluded in our interview. I however, most unfortunately, cannot simply allow you to leave." He raised a hand, as if to stop him from talking. "Before you protest, I will note that; If someone were so intent on seeing to my estate that they would travel many lands, and I am sure you have by your foreign airs, and to even request they be imprisoned in my house.. Well, I-
03:37:34 [Masquerade] -can only assume that whatever you had wanted was of importance. Whether it is dangerous or not, it carries importance. For this reason, I can hardly expect when one has sacrificed so much to simply attend my humble abode, that they mean to leave for the mere offense of chains." Fingers tapped idly against his own arm, and his gaze drifted over the room. "I hardly believe that you'd leave without any trouble after all that has been done, and so I would much prefer it dear guest, if you would remain. It would be an unfortunate waste of your precious time if after all this, you didn't get what it was you wanted?" With that said, Viktor drew up another chair for himself before gesturing once more to the chair Beckett had vacated. "Now do sit, I will trust you without binding but all I ask is that you sit. Tell me why you are here, Ducard." His tone was not forboding but pleasant and reasonable. He simply wanted the interview done, so that he could go down to the dungeons and see about the other prisoners before-
03:37:53 [Masquerade] -retreating to his chambers. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he would never get there. With a grimace, the man recalled that he'd have to do all of this over, the very next day. As for the chair? His hand remained on his back, he was poised ready to sit, but would not do so until Beckett followed sit. Was it too much for this man to be reasonable? Bah!
04:13:25 [Beckett] - If only to humor the affluent noble, Ducard would move to take his seat. However, it would not be in the form of when he stepped around it. Instead, his left hand would crasp the corner of the chair and tip it to the side. Just a slight tilt back with a steady grip thereon would allow it to twist enough that the legs would not present a hindrance. A step of the left foot forward as his body turned just a bit away from the chair would position himself so that the chair could first be set back on it's left legs before tilted back down to rest on all-fours to allow him to seat himself, albeit on the edge. "Perhaps you forget," the Ravager remarks rather bluntly. "That time, for those such as you and I, is not nearly as precious as it is for those who have a limited supply." As immortals, those of the vampiric variety need not be so rushed with time, as it merely turned on and on for them, their unlives eternal until ended in violence. "But I digress," he adds after a short moment. <C>
04:13:36 [Beckett] "If it is a civil conversation that you seek, then a civil conversation shall be given. I shall momentarily suspend my distaste at the most recent of events, and allow my desire to leave be rescinded pending further judgement." This was not to say that he intended to stay, as he still was quite intent on leaving. However, he would afford this as-yet-to-be-named noble the interview that he desired. "As for my purpose of coming," the Beast sat back in the chair, placing his left hand on his left knee even whilst the right remained atop the satchel. "There are many. They come with the banner of territory, of unification, of information and a myriad of others." That predatory grin began to spread back across those pale lips. "While we are of a kind," the Ravager remarks. "We are also at juxtaposition to one another. You are of tradition, the likes of which have been upheld throughout the ages. Of the wealthy and affluent holding court with others of..." <C>
04:14:27 [Beckett] "...equal station. Of maintaining the status quo, where the rich expand their own civil emperors through arranged marriages that give way to acquisitions. I used to be like you." That grin spread impossibly further at the remark of having been of the kind at one point of time. "I used to want for more," he continues, his words seeming to come with a his through his vastly spread lips. "And used to employ whatever tactics, both savory and otherwise, to either maintain or expand the influence and power that I could muster at my desire, for whatever end I could fathom." There was a pause. However, should Viktor try to get a word in, the Beast would lean forward, his lips parting to speak again. "Tell me," he begins his conclusion. "Do you house and host such extravagence? Aside from the fleeting distraction it affords."
04:28:55 Masquerade was relieved, but did not outwardly give any hint of such. Instead he, in less of a performance than he so provided, seated himself. Now the two were opposite each other, but a desk between them. A civil conversation? Good, then there would at least for now, be some sort of peace between them. A breath of relief seemed to leave the attending footmen and they hung back, close enough to lunge into action should Beckett threaten any of their lives, or attempt to leave without the master's approval. Brows then rose at the revelation. "Then I would suppose you are in the right place." Given that he was indeed hosting The Masquerade, the most important polotical meeting between those eternally damned.. well, he need look no further, no? He was neither intimidated or irritated by his grin, but simply met the expression with his usual stoic manner. "As you can see, my house is a fickle portrayal of extravegance." He sighed, irritated with himself for having to admit such. "I will have you know, it displeases me. -
04:29:12 [Masquerade] - I do not wish to conform to the greed and approval of society and yet, to have any say in the politcal choices of our race, to have any influence upon the safety of those I care for, I must." I hand rose, massaging his brow almost painfully. "You used to be like me? You used to deal with these ridiculous..pathetic events? It is a torment, is it not? That we must deal with this eternally.." He had more than an inkling that his answer depended on Beckett's continual civility, and that the wrong answer could only bring things crumbling. For a fleeting moment, he didn't care. What was his life? Didn't he want this eternal torment to end? No. For then he could not protect them. Those who he damned to his same fate. With a sigh, Viktor merely muttered "Such is life.."
05:05:16 [Beckett] - The Ravager knew well of what the unnamed master of the manor spoke. The traditional route to being able to have a say in anything that concerned their race as a whole was to possess enough power and wealth to be afforded such courtesies by others whom have the same. Having once been human, the system which governed the kindred society was derived from the caste system that still ruled the world. And did so through the affluence of what would later be coined 'the almighty dollar'. Greed is what controlled the nations of the world, the possession or ability to acquire things that were believed to be valuable. If one had a great number of things, or the ability to acquire them, then they held prestige, even if they, personally, had not earned it. Staring across the desk, the Beast would nod. "For most," he responds, his grin having faded in light of a more stoic poise at the willing revelation of lament. "The only way to achieve such things is to attain such a station." <C>
05:05:23 [Beckett] There is a pause, as Ducard leans back in his seat, having slid back so that he is legitimately sitting, rather than seeming to be physically imposing himself from across the desk. "There exist other methods," the renowned hunter states plainly. "Of achieving one's goals. Though the road to getting there is far from easy, and it's not as smooth sailing as being a political marionette." He was, of course, speaking from experience and in truth. Ducard, be it under this alias or one of his others, had a substantial amount of his own clout in a broad number of circles -- albeit not this one, yet. And he had achieved that through his ability to deliver things that could not be bought, provide knowledge which could not be found and other things that he would prefer remain below the radar, as another future phrase would be coined. "I do not advise it," <C>
05:05:33 [Beckett] he adds. "For it presents great risk for those that you care for, and your reason for doing as you do. And it is not as concrete as the methods you now employ and agonize through. It is a road whose safety hinges upon the wealth of what your services are attributed. And keeping that worth is a lifestyle, much as the lifestyle you must conform to now." Leaning back, the Beast lifted a hand to remove the hat from atop his head. It was quite unlike him to speak so truthfully and honest to another, especially another kindred. But, quite honestly, there was no risk involved to himself, no need to emply smoke or mirrors or to misdirect the noble. In truth, there was a kinship that existed beneath the surface, a similarity between this unnamed nobleman and himself, whom had also acquired and still retained a rather large disdain for the formalities such a political position required. "That aside," he adds with a quick flash of that predatory grin. "I don't like competition."
05:30:07 Masquerade didn't interrupt him, merely listening; actually eager to hear his opinion on the matter. Upon his latest revelation, a wry smirk caught his lips. Ironic that this stranger had been better company than his gentlemen guests. Those of whom had merely spoke endlessly, debating over land, marriages, horseflesh and other unimportant things. "Ah." His hand raked through his somewhat dishevelled fair locks. e radiated the presence of a physically and emotionally exhausted man. All day had been spent with tiresome nobles, and if they werent enough? Obstacle after obstacle had been dealt his way. First a troublesome servant who'd made a mockery of his house by not tending to her duties and simply locking herself in the cellar to drink away his work, Jonah Cain attempting to disolve the century old Masquerade treaty, Jonah Cain again almost installing a rebellion within his servants upon their poor treatment, Jonah Cain's removal from the residence. This was without saying he was a council member and now his seat -
05:30:29 [Masquerade] - would be empty. And the seat of another? His was to be filled by a mere servant who he'd sent in his stead. Then there was of course Beckett's strange appearance, the matter of Luz now that her company was gone, the blind thief and more. Could the day have become anymore problematic? Really, could it have? Losing his careful airs with Beckett, Viktor settled into his chair, his usually impeccable posture slouched against the seat. He turned to wave off his servants before facing him once more. The vampire said nothing, but waited for the beast to begin speaking.
06:00:16 [Beckett] - Quite a curious turn of events, that of all individuals to unmask the true individual beneath the pompously-clad manor's master, it would be the Ravager, the Beast, the gentleman whom sought the destruction of the old way even as he reaped the benefits of it. Being of the colonies on their initial founding, the man who was now but a pale rendition of his former self still carried within him the fires of rebellion. Counter-culture, the world would call it in time. While the world continued it's seemingly endless expanse and the nations thereof continued within their pettiness of restricting themselves and retaining suspiciousness of outsiders, of foreigners, the man that was Ducard, as known in Spain, defied this. Originally, he had sought to travel the world to uncover the untold secrets of those that came before him. Now, while he continued this end, he had also taken a decidely darker turn since the advent of his death. He still crawled through tombs, evaded traps and toussled <C>
06:00:20 [Beckett] with supernatural guardians, but he did so for more than just study. Now, he was something of an undesirable to the modern world, atleast the modern historical society. More than once had he attended a lecture or meeting with those of the archaeological circles to hear of a baffled outrage that a tomb had finally been unlocked, only to find the most treasured of artifacts to have been missing, and signs of an disturbance giving unforetold reasons. In these instances, the Beast was forced to employ his guile, required to hold his tongue. For more often than not, it was he whom had already taken the treasure and delivered it in exchange for favor of one sort or another. The reason he would know that the doing was his own was simple: he, of nearly all tomb raiders, took the time to resecure the bindings that held the tombs closed in the first place. As still a student of <C>
06:00:26 [Beckett] archaeology, even if one whose experience in the field bested most of his 'compatriots', in both archaeological discoveries as well as sheer years of services, of which his race granted him a vast number beyond the rather short lives of humans. Continuing to gaze across the table at the seemingly relaxing Viktor, the Beast would withdraw his hand from the satchel. It was well apparent that there was no risk. The servants had been dismissed, the master had relaxed, and, in terms of the conversation, it seemed that both were at ease. On some level, the Ravager felt for the undead lord, whom had to leap through hoops so as to secure safety for those he felt responsible for. The same had been true for Ducard some time ago. Yes, despite his wanderlust, he had his own charges, his own people that he had chosen to place beneath the umbrella of his protection. Unfortunately, <C>
06:00:31 [Beckett] disputes that were frequent between nobles brought about the end of such things, tore free from the Beast the last vestige of his true humanity and uncaged him. But still, there was civility within him, some of which was not forced, but true. There was compassion to be found, though it was most oft stressed and waned quickly when encountered with the impetuous likes of nobles, either human or otherwise. Yet, it was showing, if only a touch, in the conversation with Viktor. "You are," he speaks after a length of time, that flash of grin being long lost in the interim. "I am sure, curious as to who I am, just as much as you are for why I am here. As the latter has been revealed, in part, I shall expand upon the former. I am Ducard, as you are aware. But it is not my only name. Being as I know a secret of your's, I shall ease further regret of having revealed it by giving a secret of my own. Within our society, I am also known in England as the wayward historian Law, and in..." <C>
06:00:37 [Beckett] "...France as the procurer Beckett. What I do is retrieve antiquities from their resting place, or perhaps elsewhere, in return for services of varying masters of covens and treatises. The statuette that was given to your servant comes from a tomb in mid-southern Africa." There was likely more to the story, but that would have to be, at the very least, requested. The Beast wasn't going to reveal all, now was he?
