At the end of a long, hazardous path into the mountains looming over Offtopic sits Nils mansion wherein a different kind of family gathering is taking place. The howling winds outside are barely heard over a tune played by a group of bards within the dimly lit great hall. A series of long tables stretch from one end to the other, each seating a different vampiric clan. Charmed mortals lie upon the tables offering their blood willingly with glasses, and assorted items surrounding them. At one end of the hall the floor rises a few steps to another table placed horizontally. Eight lords and ladies sit upon one side facing the chamber, an empty gothic throne of dark wood and violet cushioning between them. At the other end, two large wooden doors fly open with a rush of cold wind that snuffs out several wall sconces. Through a flurry of snow appears Nil. "Hello, my darlings," she says as she glides into the chamber, the doors closing on their own behind her, "I see you've made yourselves at home." All rise, some bow, a few fall to one knee, and one lord vanishes from his seat and rematerializes before her. He is a thin human noble, Lord Balen, known for wealth and subterfuge. "My Queen!" he oozes what some might consider charm as he bows and takes her hand, planting a dry kiss upon her ring. "Long have we waited for your return... as you can see, we have done as instructed." He waves a hand dramatically around the room as he speaks. Nil walks down the aisle, looking upon the gathered family with a smile colder than the air outside, "Please, go about your business!" She shouts to them before replying softer to Lord Balen, "Is this all?" Lord Balen laughs, "Oh no, my Queen! Many lie in torpor beneath us in the catacombs, along with your wights and...other pets, awaiting your command. To keep even this many sated is difficult!" Nil ignores him, "And where is my daughter?" "Ah, she left to find her own path." He hesitates before continuing, "With respect, this gathering, this army you're building is dangerous... Our kind has survived all these millennia through subtlety. Keeping our numbers low and sparse... the mortals wi-" Nil raises her hand and the hall falls deathly silent. She clasps her hand and the lord collapses into a pile of ash. "Someone be a dear and sweep him up, he can still serve as an alchemical ingredient," her pursed lip smile a little larger. The other lords and ladies now stand before the high table as Nil approaches. With a snap of her fingers, two undead servants appear from the shadows and take the table away. She glides past her guests to take her place upon the throne, one leg crossed over the other, and looks over her children. "Well! I do not recognize all of you," she addresses the remaining seven, "though a few sires are sure to be replaced over the many years since last we gathered. Normally, this would be where I would ask for introductions...but who you are is irrelevant." Her smile fades into a snarl as she continues, "Your clans are irrelevant. You were born of my blood and are [i]mine[/i]... and I need only one of you to be my second, to be my champion, to lead my armies." She leans forward, digging her black nails into the arms of her throne, "So kill eachother and reveal the one most worthy." [spoiler]Started this last night, theres more but I wasn't able to finish it so here's this bit for now. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate it.[/spoiler]