|The Killing Table
||[Jul. 8th, 2008|07:35 pm]
Two of the remaining retainers of Janus' estate temporarily put down their weapons and took up formal positions adjacent to the doors that lead into the formal dining area. They opened the doors in unison, revealing a fully dressed conclave table.|
"May we into the meeting room, Primogen. We have things to discuss."
And plans to make.
"I'm afraid I must dissent. For months, we've put forth our finest efforts and been handed loss after loss. Why should it be any different now? Because we're fearlessly and stupidly charging directly into their seat of power? Nonsense. Withdraw, I say. The elders were right: New York is a lost cause. Let us regroup outside the city. Should the enemy try to expand beyond their boundaries, they will face the combined wrath of a united Camarilla!"
"Surely that is a preferably option to suicide?"
"But we have more information now, Everette. We know where those in charge are hiding and we can act to stop them. Next week, next year, who knows where they will be? Sure, running will guarantee we save ourselves, but at what cost? The chance that we may never have another opportunity to stop this onslaught on our kind? Let's not forget that our former Prince died to give us this information. He meant for us to know of their whereabouts and for us to be triumphant. I, for one, will not be letting him down."
Izaak closed his eyes painfully, stroking his forehead to try and ease his tension. Is it just me or are none of these options feasible?
Izaak nodded at Sasha. "I think we can all agree that this situation has been... unpleasant." His mouth quirked at the thought of them all being raped. Then he got serious again. He shifted his gaze to those others situated around the table. "Sasha suggests a full-on attack. However, even though we do know their location, their numbers are incalculable. Also, the likelihood of all of them being cornered in such a situation is low. They have the best understanding of that area, and it's highly likely they'll be prepared to defend it. They could just flank us and take us out in one swift move. It would not be a battle, but rather a slaughter."
Izaak's mind briefly moved to other unpleasant times, back in Europe, fleeting images of dead bodies and blood, so much blood, but none of it fit to drink... it made him shudder.
Izaak glanced at Everette. "However, many of us have spent a lot of time, and resources, into building the foundations of the society we currently enjoy here. It is not so easy to withdraw - allowing them to gain ground with little hope of regaining it seems a folly as well. Without the aid of other kindred, this course would be little more than beggaring ourselves on those who would not likely wish to help us."
He paused, and allowed himself to think for the barest of moments. "It seems to me that we should use ALL of our skills to our advantage. There are some among us," he nodded at Ember, "who have spent a considerable time in the sewers. There are those of us who are best equipped for battle," nodding at Sasha, "and those with a more subtle touch. I suggest that we use guerrilla tactics, pick them off in small groups, hacking away at them a piece at a time."
"Let us not commit suicide, let us not flee, let us instead protect what we have built here."
"I would like to agree with you, Izaak, but it seems we've been working in small teams for a while now and nothing good has come of it. If I felt there was a good way for us to divide into groups based on our skills and find a solution, I would be all for it. But I still feel we can most easily use our different talents to our benefit through attack. I'm not asking that we all just rush in with no plan. I'm saying, let's use our different strength to attack in such a variety of ways and from so many directions, that those we attack are over powered."