((In Character (IC) Document:
Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Vampire: The Requiem (The Strix Chronicle)
Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer
Post by Jerad Sayler))
Post by Jerad Sayler))
6 November 2009 “Predator Politics”
I figure I should keep my thoughts straight on what is going
to happen from this point on. I’ve taken
the plunge. After sneaking around this
city for about a month and a half and being forced to dodge the large numbers
of my kind in the city it’s time to face the music. Without being recognized by the rulers of
Colorado Springs I face death at the hands of anyone strong and smart enough to
corner me. So I stretched out with my
electronic hands to make contact on my own terms.
There’s a man whose of course not a man, Ethan
Hawthorne. He’s a reputable business man
downtown, seems greedy and power
hungry. I’ve looked for the signs and I
know he’s Kindred, so a few nights ago I sent a message directly to official
email, laced with cryptic ideas. He
answered back quickly and directed me to meet with the Priscus of the Mehket clan, a Donovan Asim.
I met with Asim briefly before the court, he was gracious enough to want to smooth things over with
the city politic and see that despite my hedge-existence up until now I would
be absorbed politely into the Danse Macabre.
I am grateful that he has offered the protection of the Mehket clan for the time being but demands I
join a covenant within the next few months.
As the night wore on and I clung to him like a lost puppy I felt like a
nuisance and that he would not make a suitable mentor.
Outside under the streetlights,
I spoke quietly with the members of my clan in attendance. Donovan is a member of the Ordo Dracul and
this night he runs off to perform some sort of nefarious errand to the
Nosferatu’s Undercity for his Covenant, sounds dangerous, and I’ve already made
friends with a troublemaker. Ethan
Hawthorne is a very official looking Mehket
and the Primogeon of the Invictus, he is young for one is such a position and
is quite helpful in his attempts to recruit me into the First Estate. Ulrich
Havelock VonReichstad, Master of Elysium, and a member
of the Circle of the Crone is also there.
He wears dated clothing and carries a wicked dragon cane which later I
see turn into a bladed weapon along the hilt.
Lastly, there is Mycroft Valentine,
another man with a goatee and cane, Primogeon of the Ordo Dracul and Grand
Wyrm. Neither of these elders cast a
shadow and many times that night I heard to them referred to as “Hollow,” not
even their voices echo on the walls.
In my wanderings from various penthouse rooms of the Broadmoor Hotel I ran into the prince himself,
Johnathan Berrings of the Carthian
Movement. I answered so simple questions
about myself and he almost gave into anger at the prospect of me sneaking
around his city for so long, feeding where I wanted, and without being able to
recite the traditions! I was whisked
away by Mr. Hawthrone and confronted by Mr. Asim in an empty room. Asked me a lot of questions about my previous
nomadic lifestyle in North Dakota and why my wicked sire Cailyph had not given me proper instruction on
the way of things. I soon found myself
in the Prince’s office offering a formal apology and explanation for my
behavior. He accepted with grace and
was going to formally recognize me in court in a few hours, I would be granted
Citizenship and access to feed at the Rack (downtown). He did,
however, demand that I join a Covenant within a month and a half (the
same duration I stuck around).
I continued to go from room to room, mostly feeling unwanted
by the Kindred contained within. I was
confronted by the Hound, a brutish dragon by the name of Orcus, who wanted to
stake me for making him look bad and slipping through his nets for so
long. Once the fear and predator’s taint
faded I feel a certain sense of satisfaction for pissing them off. These Kindred of polite society aren’t so tough,
and this won’t be the first time I will impress them.
While waiting for the court
to start I spoke with Dr. Sirius of the Circle of the Crone and a few other
members as well. This bald imposing man
in the black trench coat has a reputation for being wicked, powerful, and is
jokingly referred to as “the monster under the bed” and later “the monster in
the bed” as he appears to like to sleep around.
He is known for having dozens of
Childer spread throughout the country and even told me that he had once slept
with a werewolf. He was intriguing, and
as the night wore on his religious discussions impressed me greatly as be
bantered easily with the Sanctified. He
doesn’t seem to worship the Crone herself but embraces mythology, his blood
powers, and the tenants of the Acoytles
with an easy grace.
One room I walked into their apparently had been a
fight. A terrifyingly brute of a gangrel
sat in a chair with an unconscious “breather” on the floor. He was Maddox, Irish Sheriff of the city and
Bishop of the Lance. He was crass and mean, at first, I was afraid he might attack
me, but once we got past the pleasantries he seemed to warm up to me as much as
I can imagine was possible for him.
Apparently an unliked Ventrue had possessed this street-retainer and
sent him to do something wicked tonight.
Orcus had cut him with his sword on the leg (the sword must have been
cloaked) and Maddox had planted his ham-sized
fist in the guy’s head knocking him right out.
As things heated up over the course of the evening they tied him up and
locked him in a closet. They wouldn’t
give me any more details and I don’t know what became of the guy. No one trusts me and everyone is so
secretive! I started to resort to my
superior Cloak of Night to glean secrets though apparently at Elysium this is
very frowned upon, I’ll be careful not to get caught. There is a great deal of discussions in one room about the breeding of
humans and ghoul families, I can barely control my disdain for such slavery.
Later the evening was gripped in chaos. An Acolyte
with cuts all over his face, Mr. Asim covered in slime and refuse, Three very
pissed off Nosferatu, one covered in blood… and Maddox almost starts a fight
with the Nosferatu Priscus. I turn
invisible and dart into a corner in the face of this madness. Orcus later tells that is frowned upon at
Elysium, but I panicked in my neonate-hood.
The court is canceled! But the Prince tells me that I am
allowed to feed at the Rack and his Domain for the time being. No one would tell me what was going on or
what happened, a lot of people go into his office…
I meet Jack Sands, the Harpy. He wears shades and looks like he’s ready to
go for a night on the town. He’s a
typical harpy and is very fun to talk to,
when he’s not pissing off the Nosferatu Priscus, with all that’s gone on
tonight her patience is growing thin. He
rallies his Sanctified with true leadership; apparently they are involved with
the affairs tonight and get their heads in the game as they have a private
meeting on a balcony.
The most significant event of the night was being approached
by Reverend Mary Jane. She’s a short
punk rocker with an easy fang smile.
She’s full of energy and wastes no time introducing herself. Upon hearing about being so new (5 years
embraced) and unaligned she takes me under her wing and we have a series of
private conversations. We talk about my
past, I think she worked so Majesty on me, and I admit to running away from Cailyph and somehow working against my blood
bond to him. I tell her my worries
regarding the life I ran away from and how my Sire might target my family to
draw me out. She tells me to forget
about my human life and accept my instincts (as a vampire), I know these are
tenants of her faith. She wanted to show
me the ropes and before the next court get me squared away, I give her my email
and we make plans to meet and talk more.
The last thing she does is leave me with a notebook of handwritten stick
figures… it’s a Testament of Longinus.
The undead predators disperse for the night and I make my
way home invisible and on foot, the free blood they offered staving off the
hunger at least for the weekend. What
Covenant should I join? In the order or
the estate, I would be nothing but a peon
for decades to come… the Crone has its hierophant and no one else, a faith
without faith, but power through blood sorcery.
The active Carthians consist of the Prince and one other not in
attendance tonight, how does he hold power?
The Lance is full of energy and life, they burn with faith which is both
attractive and repulsive to me. I don’t
believe in anything anymore…
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