Had Raziel not be so disturbed by overhearing such an ominous conversation he might well have sensed the attack coming. Instead he was caught completely by surprised, first by the thick man-dog smell that assaulted his nostrils and then by a blow that landed on him from above.
He crashed to the floor with a thump, the weight of his attacker pressing him down. He could see chains and claws pressing down onto his back cutting in his flesh.
“You move fast.” A familiar voice said. Twisting his head, Raziel looked back over his shoulder to see the straining face of the Werewolf leader. Where he had scratched him not an hour before with his talons, there were now only thick scars. “I had to leave my pack behind to catch up.”
Close up Raziel saw more details of the man’s face. He had a red beard that covered the side of his face and chin but under his nose was free of hair. The beard was braided thickly on both sides of his head and tied off using black ribbon.  Sweat from the exertion it had taken to catch up made his skin shin.
“I like that.” He admitted blue eyes bright and alert. “It makes the hunt more exciting.”
Bending his body impossibly back upon itself, Raziel slammed the back of his head into the man’s face. Stunned the werewolf let go, his clawed hands reverting back to human appendages in his confusion.
“I hope you are entertained!” Raziel shouted in reply, scrambling to his feet and spinning about; smashing a kick into the man’s belly.
The blow did less effect then he had hoped.  The man only slide back a few paces and then pressed forward, displaying he clearly had more battle endurance then Raziel had.
The werewolf leader swung both arms up in an arc, the chains attached to the manacles around his wrists whipping up and crashing with a loud thwack into the blue wraith’s chin. The force in that blow left him seeing stars and he swayed, toppling backwards a step.
“I am not as much entertained as I am intrigued.” The man stated hoarsely, clearly out of breath; using the break in the action to gather some strength rather then take advantage.
It did not take Raziel long to recover and he leapt at the werewolf leader, talons raised to strike. The man ducked and Raziel sailed overhead, but he caught a hold of the red hair and using that as an anchor; swung himself up until he was standing on the werewolf’s leaders shoulders.
Raziel was quite thin with the loss of several internal organs but his weight was still more then the man could cope with on his back comfortably. He toppled down onto one knee, cursing so badly in his accented voice that his words were thankfully unintelligible.
“Just what sort of unnatural blend has Abraxas used to create you?” He demanded, teeth clenched as Raziel held his hair.
“Who?” The blue wraith asked in surprise. The man’s arm whipped up and Raziel looked down to see that one of his opponent’s chains was now wrapped tightly around his ankle. With a sharp tug the man tore him off his back and slammed him into the floor.
“Do not play me for a fool, chimera.” The man spat. “Only his mind could have conjured such a horror as you.”
Raziel felt dazed as he hoisted himself back up to his feet, his body swaying like a leaf. That blow had severely drained his surplus of energy. He did not think he could afford to loose his physical manifestation while in this city. With no spectral realm here to take him there was no telling what might happen to his spirit.
“You are leaping to a conclusion I am not privy to.” He said but the pack leader ignored him, rushing forward with arms outspread. As he ran his hands morphed again, taking on werewolf characteristics with claws and fur.
Raziel parried the strikes, taking several defensive steps back. The man pressed that advantage and launched himself at the blue wraith; tackling him around the waist.
The blue wraith tried to dislodge him but he held on tightly in an almost crushing grip.
Then the man reached up and stabbed with his claws at his face, presumably in an attempt to poke out his eyes. Raziel’s head tilted back and the claws caught the rim of his clan drape instead. When the arm drew back, the pack leader pulled the cowl down directly before his eyes.
He saw everything, the missing jaw, the cavernous hole leading down into a near empty chest and the pulsing glow within where devoured souls disappeared when absorbed.
His eyes widened in horror and his face went deadly pale.
“What are you?!” He demanded, letting off and backing off quickly.
Raziel took his drape back to his face, covering up the maiming again.
“Not what you think.” He replied.
The pack leader swallowed hard.
“Aye. You might be far worse.” He said and Raziel found this comment amusing enough to have a chuckle over.
“Possibly.” He admitted. “But you’ll have to make up your own mind about that.”
The Pack leader ran a hand over his face, a nervous gesture and seemed to relax a little or at least he stopped shaking.
Silence endured between them for a long while and then the werewolf straightened and began;
“I am Ewoden, Emissary and Scout of the Lycanthropes.” He introduced himself. The consolatory tone in which he spoke clearly outlined his words as something of a peace offering. 
“I am Raziel.” The blue wraith replied, accepting it. Hearing that name Ewoden blinked and stared at him even harder.
“Raziel?” He repeated. “Raziel-Divus?” The apologetic tone he had had moments before was completely gone, replaced by a way suspicion and unease. Raziel didn’t blame him.
“Similar names only.” He said. It wasn’t exactly a lie for in his mind Divus no more represented his state of mind then Kain or anyone else did. He had rejected his past self once before and would happily do so again.
The sophistry was pleasant to entertain in his head.
“Why do I not believe you?” Ewoden asked anyway, maintaining his prudent distance.
“Perhaps because you are shrewd?” The blue wraith asked in return jest. It was far more pleasant to have a conversation then to resort to grappling he found. Despite being shaken and suspicious it seemed Ewoden was of like mind. He grinned back at Raziel with infectious good humour.
“You try to flatter me.” The pack leader, or emissary as he called himself, stated. “If you are one of his chimeras then at least he does well to teach them proper behaviour.”
The tension between them seeped away and the two of them visibly relaxed, the links of Ewoden’s chains clinging against one another as he settled his shoulders.
“I find it odd that your kind dwell here.” Raziel began with a raised eyebrow, an expression that gave the illusion of one eye actually growing while the other stayed the same size. “Werewolves have been extinct in Nosgoth for centuries.”
The emissary looked at him with a puzzled expression
“Werewolves?” He repeated, clearly not understanding the word. Then comprehension dawned. “Oh you mean us.” He said, laying a hand on his chest. “Is that what the rest of mankind started calling us?”
Raziel gave a little shrug.
“You’re considered folklore.” He said.
Ewoden’s expression turned into an evil snort of sneer, lips pulled back over his teeth. Like a vampire he had enlarged canines.
“Monsters in the dark forests that raid innocent hamlets and villages I suppose?” He asked. “Something to be feared and hunted down?” Then that sneer vanished, melting away to reveal a tired and grim face that was so full of hurt that even Raziel flinched slightly.
“Aye, it’s the kind of spiteful thing they’d say.” He went over to the side of one of the containers and sat down, leaning against it wearily. “Make us monsters to frighten children and forget their role in how we are.”
.
“Memories taken from Kain illuminated me to their plight without need for verbal explanation. During the human uprising against the Ancient Vampires, the rebels had employed mutant wolf and human hybrids as cannon fodder. These creatures had been the first werewolves and while their own dark curse had not been as successful in propagating itself as Vampirism it had left its mark on recent times.”
.
Raziel considered the dejected Ewoden for a long moment.
“Ironically a similar a tale you share with the vampires your kind were created to hunt.” He eventually concluded out load. Ewoden snorted almost like a dog and managed a smile.
“Aye and a bitter joke it is too.”
He looked down at the palms of his hands. They were totally human having reverted back to normal after the fight had ended.
“We are like vampires.” He said very slowly as if saying this was not pleasant but he wanted to make sure he said it correctly the first time around so he didn’t have to repeat anything. “I don’t know if some element of the dark gift was used to make us but there are similarities.”
Raziel’s quizzical expression prompted him to explain further.
“We’re immortal, we have a blood hunger similar to theirs and we can not reproduce naturally.” Ewoden told him. With the enlarged fangs in his mouth Raziel didn’t doubt that.
“But unlike vampires we fear neither water nor sunlight and while in human form we would be completely indistinguishable in a crowd.”
Adaptive creatures indeed, the strengths of the vampires, the initiative of humans and the guile of the wolf all rolled up into one.
But of course the wolves that Kain had encountered in the past had been far different from the cultured, advanced Lycanthropes Raziel was interacting with here.
“But of course that’s not what the rebel Guardian, Moebius, wanted?” Raziel asked him. “Is it?”
Ewoden’s face hardened.
“No.” He replied in a voice tinged with a mixture of betrayal and anger and Raziel knew that his theory was correct.
He waited for Ewoden to speak of his own volition. The emissary kept o looking at his hands for a long time and then raised his eyes.
“There’s nothing to mark day and night here so I’ve lost track of time in this city of angels. I can’t tell you how long I’ve lived now but before…”He raised his left arm higher and held it up for the blue wraith to see more clearly.
His skin had many old scars crisscrossing one another.
“...before I used to be a slave, working under the whip of blue skinned taskmasters who had me and a work gang excavating marble to rebuild their cities after some war.” He said. “I was born into bondage, raised to be miner, stone cutter, toiler; anything the master asked of me.”
He waggled the shackles still attached to his wrists to emphasis what he was saying.
“Then Moebius came and did his fancy preaching. Told us we could stop being slaves.” The emissary turned and spat in disgust. “Told us this was the age of Men.”
“You were a fool to believe him.” Raziel told him flatly.
“At first all he wanted were our sword arms.” Ewoden carried on as if there had been no interruption. “His army toughened us up, made us soldiers.”
A faint smile parted his lips.
“We even won a few battles. We were few but we were proud. It seemed so much BETTER then being a slave.”
Raziel had been many things over the course of his strange multiple existences but he was quite thankful that a slave had never been one of them.
Ewoden’s face began to darken again.
“But it quickly became clear all we’d done was exchange one harsh master for a far worse one.” He said. “He must have had his eye on us for some time I think. Moebius set about thirty of his best soldiers apart, me being among them, and herded us to an abandoned village north of the fighting and the battles.”
He paused.
“Abraxas was there waiting for us.” He said. His hands were beginning to shake in front of him. “He called us prototypes and then…”
He stopped, unable to carry on. The memory had to be too terrible judging by the pale colour to his skin and his trembling body.
“Dear god the things he did to us.” The emissary said with a shudder, voice thick with very sincere raw terror, a horror that could never be washed out of his mind. Raziel knew the feeling. It had felt that very same terror as he had fallen from the cliffs to the waters of the Abyss.
Ewoden paused to collect himself.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He admitted blandly.
“Because, setting our pride aside, it feels good to share our pain with others.” Raziel said. “That I know first hand.”
Ewoden sighed but the action seemed to improve his spirits.
“Yes… yes it does.” He agreed.
.
“I let him continue and listened. Vorador had lent me a friendly ear and after telling him everything, baring my soul, the experience had left me feeling cleansed and purified. I would be a poor student indeed if I did not allow others to learn this lesson.”
.
“We became…dogs.” Ewoden was carrying on. Then he stopped again, frowning as if searching for a better phrase to use. After a moment he shook his head and made a cutting gesture with one hand. “Dogs, there’s no other word.” He confirmed sharply and with disgust.
“Strong, loyal, furiously pack animals to hunt down their hated prey. Only ten out of thirty survived that experience and the bastard still called it a success.” Only with some difficulty did the emissary manage to get his rancour under control.
“In time more were changed to fill some quota and we were used to sweep the land clean of the blue skinned Vampires.” He said quietly. “The memories are hazy, like remembering a nightmare, but I think I was there when they look the Capital Citadel. A blood bath like no other.”
Memories inherited from Kain, who had been there during his trip into the ancient past, were a little sketchy at best. He only had momentary flashes of imagery frozen in his mind. Most of them were about blood so he had no reason to doubt any account Ewoden might give of the events. 
“I’m just glad I can’t remember any more then that.” The emissary added as if reading his thoughts. “After the battle was won we weren’t needed anymore. Most of us were put to death. A few escaped into the wilderness and the ‘prime specimens’ Abraxas took with him to become part of this… gathering.”
He gestured up and around at the containers stacked high above them with one hand.
“It took us decades I think but we learned how to master our mutation and we evolved the skill of changing back and forth between our forms.”
Raziel narrowed his eyes, staring up at the containers.
“Gathering?” He asked. “You mean all these boxes?” Ewoden nodded in reply, tilting his head to follow Raziel’s own gaze.
“He’s been adding to the collection progressively for years.” He said. “I imagine he’s almost done.”
The blue wrath scowled and turned around fully, taking full stock once more of the enormity of this collection of life.
“What is all this?”  He asked.
Ewoden raised an eyebrow looking at him silently. Then he rose back up to his feet.
“It’s what they want to preserve when the ‘Promised Day’ arrives.” He said. “The day Nosgoth drowns.”