(OOC: This is a true story from the game I originally played. These events did happen, and the game was played out in rounds, which I will be classing as years in my story. Please enjoy.)

Michael Brizriole sat in a speakeasy where only true Mafioso or the corrupt would dare to drink; and having had quite a bit of bathtub alcohol by now, his tongue felt a little loose. He decided to tell a story to those who would listen, a story that originated back wherever it is that he came from. But it was more than just a story. It was a legend. This legend originated in fact however, and some of the original participants are still alive to this day.

You know, back where I came from, there was a family named The Elite. Now this was no ordinary family however. This family consisted of some of the greatest minds and the greatest guns ever to grace my homeland. They're rumored to have taken on the Gods themselves, which my great grandfather even witnessed, and participated in to an extent - and won. A few minutes with the top heads of this family could have you spilling all of the secrets of your family, which you swore a blood oath to never pass on to an enemy. About 15 minutes and you would be swearing your allegiance and planning on trying to escape your current family and go to join them. If you were a leader however, 15 minutes with these guys and your family would just be another proxy through which they would work to achieve their goals - money? No problem. Fire power? No problem - "sure, we'll attack these guys for you no worries!" they'd say.

Just the mention of The Elite would send a cold chill down even the coldest Don a chill down his spine. The members of one family once even killed their boss so that they wouldn't have to face off with The Elite. Even after the boss was killed and the family was disbanded, they were all killed mercilessly anyway.

But like every good story, this one has a beginning. Long ago, back when Cosa Nostra first started in my homeland, there was a family named The Legendary Godfathers. Every member of this family were of the Godfather rank, though it was obviously not the same as it is here; also, take note that the concept of rogues didn't exist either. The Don of The Legendary Godfathers was a man named Mr Freeze, along with his Underboss Dikke Ikke.

As the year was coming to a close, for whatever reason, the two decided that it might be funny to execute every single member of their family. But just as happens here, these members had blood relatives of their own. Sons, daughers, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, whatever. Just like happens here too, these people decided to rejoin Cosa Nostra and exact revenge on their families killers.

Two such people were named Paulie and Burnout. As fate would have it, these two men got talking. No doubt, both of these guys were pissed off, and with good reason. But what people didn't realize at the time, was that this meeting would decide that fate for generations upon generations of people in the old country. With this meeting, The Elite was born. Recruiting the relatives of the fallen, The Elite grew in size and set out to seek vengeance on Mr Freeze and Dikke Ikke. Of course, the ensuing war was swift and punishing for the opposition. But why stop there? By now The Elite was a powerhouse driven by Paulies great gun and Burnouts great mind. But that isn't to say that Paulie didn't have influence of his own. Far from it. The two then vowed to\ track down and exterminate every living relative of Freeze and Dikke every time they would raise their heads, and they kept their promise long into the days of my father.

Michael Brizriole gets up to take a leak. He wanders to the back exist of the speakeasy and heads out into the alleyway.

Bartender, another round over here, Bruiser yells down the bar. 

Bruiser gets his drinks and sits back in his seat waiting on Micheal to come back from the head.  Bruiser thinks back he remembers hearing of the Elite but the name had been long retired when Bruiser great grandfather was over in that country.

Michael Brizriole comes back through the alley entrance into the speakeasy and manages to pick up another bathtub brew that Bruiser had ordered for him and finds his old seat again before continuing.

Now where was I? Oh that's right.

Like I said before, The Elite had become a powerhouse. Paulie and Burnout didn't even need to front the top positions of the family to control it, exchanging the honor almost yearly to different members of the family. Their loyalty was unwavering, with more and more members coming to join their ranks.

Soon enough however, they had found a rival. The Baltimore Mob, or Bmob as it was called (don't worry, they weren't here in America) had

started to show that they also, were a force to be dealt with. Lead by Bomber Belcastro (whom was rumored to be a God himself), The Bmob had also become a powerhouse of sorts. Inevitably, The Elite and The Bmob went to war. The war lasted years. With high casualties on both sides, the offspring of the fallen would often rejoin their ranks. Some though, would sometimes defer to the other side. If I remember correctly - please don't quote me on this, Vex (a rumored demigod) did this at some stage. Eventually though, as would happen often in the future, The Elite defeated their enemies.

Year after year, The Elite would reign supreme. The lineage of Dikke Ikke had by now come back and created his own family - The De Tokkies. But that's not to say that they didn't have other enemies. A few years before my great grandfather got into Cosa Nostra, The De Tokkies had had a massive war against The Norwegian Mafia, with the latter winning. The Elite would eventually envelop The Norwegian Mafia, led by Narishma, though he would sometimes re-create the family before his death at the hands of my father.

When my great grandfather first got into this thing of ours, The Elite was dominating, set to win after another year. The next year however, they disappeared. Where had they gone to? Had they retired? By now they had members including but not limited to Trigger (a great gunman), Corleon (later to supposedly become a demigod), Harobed and Raptor (an unrivalled couple who were said to be able to empty hitlists in mere hours), Avery (who was head of the family at the time) and Cryssi Vaine (whom my grandfather would later marry) among many others. But where had they all gone? Surely they couldn't just have up and retired after all that they'd been through?

The answer of course, was no. Special Weapons and Tactics was born, with Avery heading the family along with MidKnight. Without a doubt, Paulie and Burnout must have been pulling the strings, as they usually did. As the year passed, a new family had risen to power. The Sicilian Crime Syndicate was headed by Tony Leone, and included names such as Narishma, Kobra (whom had a 30 million dollar bounty on her head, and faked her death to claim - she was a great money maker) and Maltese. My great grandfather had admired this family from afar, amazed at their sheer numbers, and overwhelming strength. His first family had been none other than The De Tokkies. They were said to be the main recruiter of new blood in the mafia at the time, always weary as to not gain the attention of The Elite. Just like every other time though, they were attacked and killed, my great grandfather however, had moved on to greener pastures by that stage.

As my great grandfather would later find out, like the other families, The Sicilian Crime Syndicate was just another puppet family run by Paulie and Burnout from behind the scenes. After some kind of altercation, Tony Leone was tossed aside and killed. Due to the fallout from this, some core members would separate from the family and eventually set to take on The Elite in later years.

As the years passed by, The Elite still hadn't officially had a family of their own. It was obvious though that they were controlling some others in their place. By now my grandfather was in the Mafia, as my great grandfather had been killed in an incident of trying to knock off his boss. This is how he met Maltese, along with a descendent of Tony Leone and Corleon. On occasion, they fought The Elite, until rumors which had been circulating about a return of The Bmob turned out to be true. Bomber Belcastro had been laying in wait all this time, training new blood along with some of his old friends' lineage for a comeback, in an ultimate showdown between the two powerhouses.

The war was brutal, with new, stronger weapons and methods of killing fresh on the market. It had been a long time coming however. Burnout had been posing as a man named Grunt, whom had intercepted every rig hijack planned and foiled all other families money making abilities drastically. Veterans from both sides, whom had never been injured in any war beforehand were killed, leaving entire city business districts torched and burnt to the ground.

During this time it had been common for families to use legal casinos as a means of storing their tainted money. One such casino had belonged to Lefty Legs, a long standing member of The Elite and Paulie. It was suggested by my grandfather to Bomber Belcastro, that if we could kill one of these men then we would be able to masquerade as that person in order to withdraw the money from the casino and leave the family broke and without protection. When Lefty Legs fell, it was Capone15s duty to be that doppelganger. The plan went off without a hitch. The money was split, and my grandfather became one of the wealthiest men at the time, with an astounding 110 million dollars.

Despite all of their efforts though, The Bmob lost the war. Even the supposed God, Bomber Belcastro was slain. The Elite had once again proved that they were the ultimate Mafioso family. Original members - direct descendants from the original fallen were still alive. Paulie and Burnout were still pulling the strings where they could, able to pick and choose who would have the greatest earnings at the end of each year on a whim. They could have anybody killed that they wanted. It is said that they would war other families just because their war hungry members had gotten bored. But alas, all good things must come to an end.

It was eventually decided that The Elite would retire the family name from our homeland. Burnout took to the streets, and everybody stood and listened, as he delivered a heart felt speech, detailing their achievements and giving thanks to their long term members - both alive and dead, for their service. He even gave thanks to those of them which had deferred and created opposing families. Out of respect no one had tried to kill him that day. They stood and listened, trying their hardest to hear every single word he said. My grandfather even wrote down all that he heard that day on a notepad, which I still have today. It is said that something was lost that day. A piece of the motherlands heart, or perhaps a piece of everyone's identity, which was no doubt true, as some members took this as an opportunity to retire, while others waited restlessly for more orders from their leaders.

And of course, they did come back. However it wasn't under the banner of The Elite. They came under such banners as Assholes Inc. and Phsyc Ward, but none the less, they continued to dominate, which I suppose, is a story for another day. Many of their members are still alive to this day. Some have retired, some are still wherever it is that I came from, and Paulie and Burnout still have influence there. With just a few words, they could decide the fate of numerous people or families.

I suppose I should end this story here. It may seem unbelievable, but The Elite have possibly tens of thousands of kills under their belts and unimaginable powers of persuasion over many different people and their lineages. God only knows what would happen if they ever decided to immigrate here.

Michael Brizriole finishes his drink and adds the empty glass to the collection of many that has been building up over the course of the story, and stumbles on over to the bar and pays his tab before exiting the speakeasy and walking down the cold street into the night.