Anyone standing in the dim hallway would have trouble making out the approaching figure. Clad all in black, the being marched purposefully up the corridor. Though the way was darkened, the figure's steps were sure, his knowledge of this passage so familiar he could navigate it with his eyes shut. Now his figure was illuminated briefly by moonlight from an adjacent broken window, but his form was just as quickly shrouded in darkness again as he passed quickly by. But of course, no-one was around around to see it. The hallway was empty and silent as a tomb. Rutger Leick, the Brujah Primogen was lost in his own thoughts as he moved toward the Prince's private chamber. Most involved violent acts he would like to commit on Laplace's person, but he knew this was wishful thinking. Although he rarely showed it, Leick knew the Prince to be one of the most powerful of the Kindred in central America. Also, one of the most insane. No, perhaps insane was inaccurate. The man was unbalanced, certainly, but had a fair grasp of who he was and where. Only rarely did the elder Cainite need reminding of the fact that he ruled the Gothic City's dark underbelly. No, he was not insane. Not yet. Rutger hoped this was one of the Prince's better days. Much as he hated Alexander Laplace, they needed to present his best face to the Kindred of New Chelsea. If it were known that his mental state was as far gone as it was, there would be an outcry in the city, and the Primogen would be forced to defend their Prince against the other Kindred, or be destroyed by Laplace himself. And none of them wanted a revolution on their hands. Shaking himself out of his private reverie, the Brujah elder climbed the seven stairs to Laplace's private chamber. Taking a deep breath, Leick knocked three times on the heavy oak door. "Come in," shouted a voice few would suspect to be a Prince's. The voice was high-pitched and tense - certainly not the dulcet tones one might expect from a ruling Elder. But Leick had heard this voice hundreds of times, and was unsurprised by it. Carefully, the big man opened the door, stepping into the chambers. The room was massive, as big as a church hall - though any similarities were certainly coincidental. The walls were draped in red velvet, and a plush crimson carpet, the color of oxygen-rich blood, blanketed the floor. The bed in the corner was also characteristically huge, its four posts supporting a large canvas which roofed the place of sleep. Decorating many walls were dozens of paintings, some bought, some painted by the Prince himself. A half-finished self-portrait sat on an easel near the west wall, the wet oils glistening in the lamplight. Several sculptures and busts also sat around on pedestals and various other bric-a-brac cluttered the room. All of these items were arranged haphazardly, as though simply thrown randomly around, although Rutger Leick knew that each item was placed where Laplace felt it looked happiest. He was a strange man. The Prince himself sat on a plush armchair near his bed, stroking a cat on his lap. The cat was lapping up milk from a bowl on the arm of the chair, while Laplace continued to stroke its fur. The Toreador Prince was lean and medium-short but well-formed. His features were finely chiseled and his dark hair curled naturally, falling sometimes over his face. The Kindred's eyes never lifted from the cat feeding on his lap as Leick cleared his throat subtly to announce himself. "Such a beautiful creature, the cat," said Laplace finally, still focused on the feline. "Perfectly formed, agile and strong with a blood lust like our own. Evolved to hunt, but domesticated by man. Almost seems a shame." At that, the Prince lifted the creature to his mouth and buried his now-sharp eye teeth into the poor animal's neck, sucking a sip of blood from it, then letting the rest of the carcass fall by the side of his chair. The animal's blood had spilled down Laplace's 15th century outfit. The cat carcass continued to spurt out the life-giving substance onto the floor, creating a growing pool of glistening crimson. Leick suppressed the urge to gag. To feed on an animal was one of the most repugnant of bad habits, and he could barely stand to watch it. And the Prince did not feed out of hunger, he simply sampled the blood because he felt the urge. Pleasure was the main and only concern in Laplace's life, and he didn't care what others thought - and perhaps was not aware that others even thought about him at all. As far as the Prince was concerned, he was the only person who existed in the entire world. Rutger Leick blinked once, hard, and spoke: "Your presence is requested, Lord. A new Kindred has arrived in the city and awaits your blessing." "Kindred?" the Prince said, as though he had never heard the word. "But we never see supplicants on Sundays." "That's right my Lord, but it's Tuesday." He tried not to let his deep voice betray his annoyance. "No, no, it can't be. Send him away." The Prince waved his hand dismissively. Leick stared at the floor as he said, "That is not recommended Sire. Mr Frost has come a long way. It reflects poorly on the city for you to reject him thus." There was a long moment of silence as Rutger almost wished he hadn't argued the point. He walked a fine line, and was never sure when he had crossed it. This time, he was lucky. "Very well," Laplace said, ignoring the Primogen's subordinance. "I will see the new arrival." The Prince headed out the door, walking briskly, treading feline blood deep into the plush carpet. Rutger Leick sighed as he followed his Elder to the audience chamber. - End of Post. Rutger Leick, Brujah Primogen. Frost had been standing in the great hall for Leick to return with the Prince. Almost twenty minutes. The two vampires guarding the exits were beginning to become agitated. Frost turned his head his glowing eyes shining in the direction of the young Kindred. One was Ventrue the other Brujah or perhaps Tremere. Frost look coldly at the Ventrue. He felt the presence of his sword against his side. One quick slice and it would be over, another Ventrue fallen to Masamune. Frost turned his head away. He could not afford to bungle this early in the game. He was quite sure that what he was looking for was here in New Chelsea. He must attempt to remain here for as long as he could. Frost closed his eyes. He touched the hilt of Masamune and exhaled slowly. He could fell Laplace approaching. He heard the door open. He moved his hand off the hilt of the sword. He felt Leick's presence moments later. He slowly opened his eyes. Laplace had already taken his seat in the large throne-like chair in the center of the great hall. Until that moment the hall had been obscure. Frost examined it for a moment. Large tapestries covered almost the entire wall. The room was almost the size of a large cathedral, and decorated as eloquently as any cathedral he had every seen. Leick walked slowly toward the throne, Frost could fell his disdain of the older vampire. "Welcome to my city" said Laplace his voice distant and uncaring. "You know the rules no doubt. Follow them and you shall have no trouble with me. Now bow and pay your homage to me and be on your way." Laplace stood slowly waiting for Frost to approach him. Frost did not move. "Worm, bow and pay homage to your Prince!" Leick spat out. Frost's glowing eyes shifted in his direction, a low grumble rising in his throat. His hand moved slowly inside his coat. "I bow to no vampire, Prince or not," Frost replied coldly. His voice was tenor not too high nor too low. A British accent was barely detectable his speech. Frost could see Leick studying him suspiciously. Most vampires would not argue with their Prince. Certainly these two had heard the rumors about Frost's past and the Ventrue massacres in Europe. His hand touched Masamune's hilt once again. "You will bow or be destroyed," said Laplace with a tone of irritation. "Which do you choose?" Frost drew his sword and moved swiftly towards Laplace. Startled by the attack Laplace leapt back but as he did Frost plunged the sword squarely into Laplace's foot and the concrete beneath it. "If you wish to fight me I am at your disposal." Frost withdrew the sword as he spoke. Laplace staggered back in obvious pain, an understandable side affect considering the condition of his foot. "Very impressive Mr. Frost" muttered Laplace in pain. "Leick see Mr. Frost to the exit personally. I don't wish him to lose his way and fall prey to the sun." Leick nodded in acceptance of the task. Laplace limped towards the door, the two vampires guarding it opened it for him and followed behind as he left. Frost walked over to one of the tapestries and wiped the blood off his sword with it. Leick waited until he had finished the ushered him towards the door. As they walked the dark corridor they studied each other carefully. They passed the fork that split towards the exit and Laplace's personal chamber. Leick stopped Frost who still had his sword drawn. "You are a fool opposing one of the most powerful in America. He could have you hunted down and killed." Frost turned as Leick spoke. The full intensity of his eyes attacked Leick. "I have no fear of that vampire. In an hour he will have forgotten I even exist." He looked up at the wall. On it was a broadsword. Leick looked up and grabbed it. "You like swords, Frost?" the Primogen asked, examining the blade himself. "Only mine" he said turning away "You hate Laplace don't you?." "You are perceptive Mr Frost," said Leick still holding the sword. As Frost began to move forward so did Leick. "Do you plan to destroy him?" "Now is not the time nor the place to discuss such matters," replied Frost, his voice cold again. "Perhaps we will meet each other on the outside one day. Till then forget our conversation." They reached the door. Frost put his sword back in his coat, opened the door and slipped away into the night. Leick watched him for a moment then closed the door and walked away. - End of post. Fredrick Frost, Caitiff Rutger Leick stood just behind Fredrick Frost in what was termed the 'throne room'. Of course, this was not a palace, it was a skyscraper, but it was the Prince's audience chamber, and did house a rather large and ornate chair. It was on this chair that the Prince now sat. "Welcome to my city," Laplace said finally, to the new arrival. "You know the rules no doubt. Follow them and you shall have no trouble with me. Now bow and pay your homage to me and be on your way." Rutger almost winced. The Prince of this city seemed often to take his title a bit too literally, forcing others to acknowledge his royalty. Most Kindred accepted this, knowing their ruler's eccentricities, but new arrivals always found it difficult to stomach. Leick hoped that the Caitiff before him simply acceded to the Prince's wishes without a fuss. Otherwise, there could be trouble. The Kindred made no move. "Worm!" Leick snarled at the foolish man before him. "Bow and pay homage to your Prince!" He hoped Frost obeyed. No such luck. The 'supplicant' turned his head to face Leick, his eyes beginning to glow. A low, animal grumble sounded from his throat. "I bow to no vampire, Prince or not," Frost said, as coldly as his name implied. "You will bow or be destroyed," Laplace said coolly, examing his fingernails. "Which do you choose?" From his position behind Frost, the Brujah Primogen could not see if there was any change in expression on Frost's face. He could only see a slight movement within the Caitiff's coat. Suddenly, and without warning, Fredrick Frost pulled a large sword from under his coat, and leaped at the Prince. Both amused and horrified, Leick watched as the newcomer plunged his blade deep into Laplace's foot, through to the hard floor underneath. The Prince's eyes grew wide as saucers as he stared at the crimson fluid gushing from the gaping wound. Frost withdrew his sword and said calmly, "If you wish to fight me, I am at your disposal." Leick was aghast. This foolish Kindred would be dead within seconds for such insolence. Underneath the surface, however, there was a certain reluctant admiration for such bravery, idiotic as it may have been. Leick wished he could be able to stand up to the Prince and wrest the power from his grasp. But the Primogen was smarter than that. He knew such an approach would fail. He would bide his time. Imagine Leick's surprise when Laplace made no move at all to order Frost's Final Death. The guards stood tensely, waiting for the word that would send them rushing to release their savage impulses upon this visitor's body. But the word never came. Instead, Laplace said simply, "Very impressive Mr. Frost. Leick see Mr. Frost to the exit personally. I don't wish him to lose his way and fall prey to the sun." The Prince then stood up and, leaning heavily on one of his personal guards, limped toward the exit. As soon as they were out of sight, Leick heard the satisfying crunch he had been waiting for. The Brujah smiled. Laplace had killed his guard for allowing this to happen and was probably taking the Kindred's blood to replace what he had lost from Frost's attack. Strange, though, that he left Frost alive. Was it the rumors of the Caitiff's murder spree in Europe? Or perhaps the sight of the Masamune, the legendary sword? It could even be that Laplace admired such directness, although this was unlikely. Whatever the case, Leick had been ordered to escort Frost from the Bezoar complex, and that was what he would do. Indicating an exit, Rutger Leick headed down it himself. Frost wiped his sword on one of the drapes and followed the Primogen. The two walked in silence for a while until Leick finally spoke up. "You are a fool opposing one of the most powerful in America," Leick informed the other, roughly. "He could have you hunted down and killed." Every Vampire feared the Lextalionis - the Blood Hunt. Frost turned as Leick spoke. The full intensity of his eyes attacked Leick. "I have no fear of that vampire," retorted Frost in his unidentifiable accent. "In an hour he will have forgotten I even exist." Leick stopped in the middle of the hall and stared into the Caitiff's eyes. There was something strange in there, something Leick had never seen before. Perhaps this was what had prompted the Prince's strange behavior. Could his Auspex have seen something Leick's Brujah blood wouldn't enable him to? Unable to withstand the intense scrutiny of the Primogen, Frost's eyes roved across the wall behind him, finally resting on a shining blade hung there. Noticing this, Leick turned round. "You like swords, Frost?" the Primogen asked, taking it down and examining the blade himself. "Only mine," came the reply - and Frost turned away. "You hate Laplace don't you?" he added finally. "You are perceptive Mr Frost," said Leick still holding the sword, in a subtle but threatening gesture. Frost edged forward, drawn by Leick's Presence. "Do you plan to destroy him?" asked the Brujah, intensely. "Now is not the time nor the place to discuss such matters," replied Frost, shaking off the daze. "Perhaps we will meet each other on the outside one day. Till then forget our conversation." Oh, we certainly will meet again, thought Leick, as the black coated Caitiff walked toward the elevator. The Brujah stood and watched the other till he was gone, and then turned and walked back to check on the Prince. Perhaps this new one's stupidity and bravery could be useful, he thought. A plan is forming.... - End of post. Rutger Leick, Brujah Primogen. There was still the hint of sunlight above as Rutger Leick meandered through the trees, so he stuck to the shadows of the wood. It had been two weeks since the arrival of Fredrick Frost and the strange events in the 'Throne Room'. Leick had not seen nor heard from the Caitiff since, but there was a hint of trouble in the air. The Brujah could tell from the Prince's violent mood swings that his Auspex was troubling him. Of course, Laplace was too absorbed in pleasures to pay attention to his own senses, but his reactions were enough to tip Leick off to the fact that something was up. Or it may just be that the touch of the sacred Masamune sword had disturbed the Toreador Prince. Who could tell? Leick thought he might know someone who could. It was the south side of the city, the houses tapered off until only a few cottages were present in a thin forest. This area had been mined for coal until nothing was left, and then left for Mother Nature to do with as she willed. She had decided to spring up a forest. It had been here for a long time now, and many had forgotten it hadn't always been here, but Leick remembered. And deep in the heart of the wood had been a house, once upon a time. That house no longer stood, but unbeknownst to most, the cellar still stood. Leick approached the area where the house had once been, recognising it by a gnarled tree stump by the wayside. It was now very dark, much darker than it ever gets in the city. The Brujah Primogen wandered around for a few minutes, searching for some sign of the basement which still existed somewhere beneath him. He found none. Getting frustrated now, the Vampire stomped on the floor. "Open up!" he yelled. His voice dissipated in the chill night air. There was no response. The Cainite stood there breathing heavily, unable to see his cold breath even as cold as it was tonight. There was still no answer. Rutger Leick turned to leave when he heard a creaking sound. Turning, he saw that a small patch of earth had opened up slightly, beckoning him in. The Brujah grasped the edge of the hidden door and opened it fully, easing himself down into the basement beneath. It was not much lighter down here. A small lamp in an adjacent room cast a dim luminescence but Leick could barely make out the walls of the room, and certainly saw no sign of Karenthuras, the Tremere who lived secluded down here. Many considered the elusive Vampire to be Inconnu, separated from Kindred society. But Leick knew the Tremere was still Kindred at heart. He would help. Then, out of the dark shadows, a figure could be seen approaching. It was Karenthuras. "Welcome," he said in a thin voice. "Why are you here?" - End of post. Rutger Leick, Brujah Primogen The soft orange glow from the lamp in the adjacent room faintly illuminated the figure of the Tremere who stood before Rutger Leick. The Brujah had only seen Karenthuras a couple of times before, never getting an extremely good look at him. He appeared to be very average, in height, weight, facial features. His voice, also, was not particularly impressive. Still, something about the Kindred exuded power. Leick could feel it, and it both frightened and excited him at the same time. Power... "What do you want?" the Tremere asked again. Leick paused a moment. "I ask a boon." "That much is obvious," Karenthuras said then, turning away to fiddle with some objects on a small desk. "But what is it you want, eh? What will it cost me? And more importantly, what will it cost you?" "I wish to know a thing," said Leick. "Knowledge is good," replied Karenthuras. "It has its own life, yes? First it is this, then it is that. But dangerous in the wrong hands, it can be." Leick was getting a little frustrated with Karenthuras' evasion. The Brujah Primogen preferred directness, not this dancing around the issue. When would the little warlock get to the point? "I wish to know," Leick continued, "whether this Caitiff, this Frost, is the one I need who will help me seize power, once and for all." Karenthuras, his back turned, swung his head round to peer at Rutger, his eyes appearing to almost glow a dull red. The glow was only a momentary flicker, and probably a reflection of the lamplight but still it unnerved Leick. "This knowledge is not mine to give." "What do you mean?" Leick was getting angry now. "I do not have this knowledge," he admitted. "My Auspex is weak. This fact which you seek to know, this future, is unstable. It changes, it does. Flickering back and forth, on and off, like the candle which lights this room." "Then he could be the one?" The Brujah became hopeful. "I am telling you I do not know." Now it was Karenthuras who was becoming annoyed. "You seek facts. Facts I do not have, only knowledge. Impatient, you are. Very impatient. It will be your downfall." Suddenly a chill shot down Leick's spine. "What do you mean?" "I mean only what I say," came the reply. "No more, no less." "Have you seen something?" the Primogen demanded, grabbing Karenthuras by the shoulders. "Have you?" "Time is up," said Karenthuras, shaking himself from Leick's grip. "Leave your payment at the door." "Payment?" Leick blinked. "I have no money with me." He had not expected a Kindred to ask for money. It looked in the dim light like Karenthuras was smiling. "No. Not money. Blood." He pointed to a small bronze pot by the door. "Payment for my services is a drop of your blood. To teach appreciation and sacrifice." Rutger Leick moved toward the pot and dug the index finger of his right hand deep into the palm of his left, and watched as a drop of the precious crimson liquid flew down to the pot and splashed inside it, echoing quietly. Leick turned to say something to Karenthuras, but the Tremere was no longer here. There was a creak behind Leick as the door to the basement opened. The Primogen crawled out into the night air again, shutting the green door behind him. The moon was big and bright as Leick made his way back to the city, pondering what had just occurred. Leick would be back, of course. They both knew that. A pair of red eyes watched the dark figure of the Primogen as he left the scene. They stayed there till long after he had gone, then shut themselves, fading into the background. - End of post. Rutger Leick, Brujah Primogen Frost sat on the hood of his 1970 Barracuda AAR look up at the stars. This place was the local place teenagers came to do things that when Frost had been born were thought of after marriage. Nowadays it was more common than the plague had been in Europe. Frost was tired of waiting. This was suppose to be Nalal's favorite hunting ground. For some reason the vampire liked the blood of hormonally obsessed children. Frost preferred a more mature taste, human blood was like wine: the older the better. A car pulled up here beside the Barracuda. Two young people sat inside the car already kissing. Frost looked at them intently, his eyes beginning to glow softly. Then he felt it, a sort of pain in his head, it was Masamune alerting him to the presence of another vampire. He saw the bushes near the car begin to rustle. Then with a great crash a vampire, slightly smaller than average wearing only black leaped from the bushes at the two children - it was Nalal. He broke the young man's neck then grabbed the woman's neck at sunk his fangs in. Frost did not move. Nalal, realizing that he was being watched, looked at Frost, his mouth still firmly on the girl's neck. He withdrew slowly. "Frost is that you?" he muttered wiping his mouth. "Hello Nalal," replied Frost with a tone of uncertainty. "It's been a long time." "Only about 50 years. So what brings you to New Chelsea. Hunting Ventrue here in America now that you've been forever banished from Europe?" He paused. "Or is it something worse, something even more diabolical? Something to do with the Prince perhaps?" "You heard about that did you?" Frost asked with a tone of irritation growing in his voice. "Every Vampire in the city knows what happened, or at least they think they do. But I know why the Prince didn't order your death." Nalal's watery eyes shimmered as he spoke. "It's that damn sword of yours. It was forged by the Japanese to help their greatest warrior battle vampires. It protects the one who holds it from a vampire's powers of control and sense, no domination and very little Auspex will work on you. I can tell you it has the Prince and old Karl spinning in circles cause you're just a big black dot in the universe to them. Leick doesn't have a clue what is going on." "Nalal the last time we met you had a red crystal around your neck, I need that crystal." Frost's eyes were glowing like a cat's in anticipation of Nalal's answer. "The crystal of blood?" Nalal screeched. "I gave that to Laplace when I came as payment to stay in the city. He had another just like it except it was black." Frost who was still siting on the hood of the car looked up at the stars and sighed. Nalal realized that he was still holding the long dead girl's body in his arms. He dropped it on the seat then jumped out of the car. He turned the ignition and put the car in neutral. He pushed the car off the cliff and turned to face Frost. "It's dangerous to go up against Laplace. He's powerful and next time he won't underestimate you. Forget about those two rocks - they're no good without the other pieces anyway." As Nalal spoke Frost pulled a small pouch out of his coat. He opened it gently and pulled out three more crystals: one green, one blue, and one yellow. "Means nothing," said Nalal. "There are 12 in total. You're missing 9 and who knows where they are." Suddenly a realization came over Nalal. "You crazy bastard, you're trying to assemble the Crystal of Darkness. If you had that and Masamune you could create eternal night, shroud the world in darkness forever and raise the dead as an army to do your bidding." Frost rolled off the hood and opened the driver's side door. He looked at Nalal once then started the car and drove away. Nalal watched him for a moment then once he was out of sight he began to walk away. Leick must know of this at once. If Frost actually managed to put that crystal together than it was the end of the world for all Kindred. - End of post. Fredrick Frost, Caitiff. Several hours had passed since the Primogen had visited Karl. Since then, he'd accomplished quite a lot. It was good that he was underground because this meant he could work into the small hours of the afternoon. His favourite catacomb (and where he would usually spend time) was situated several storeys under where Leick had been when he was here. Leick, just like all the others who ever came to see him just managed the "visitor" room, which if ever discovered by mortals, whatever, would appear as an abandoned basement. Karl's power was such, that not even the Primogen would be able to continue from this room to any of the others. The Prince had been before, however, when he was a lot younger and hadn't yet lost interest in the Kindred ways. It was at the time when Karl first came to the City and he was called before the Prince. He did not go to see him, but rather offered that the Prince could come and show acceptance of his lair. This he did, and thus, was shown all the caverns which existed at that time. From this time on, the Tremere sealed the passages between caverns with magic of tremendous power. If a Kindred being, unknowledgable of such things, was to walk that way, he would surely die. It is known, that in the time Karl has been in New Chelsea, two Methuselahs have talked with him in his most private of chambers. They came on two separate occasions, nobody is certain why, though they all have their suspicions. After Leick left, Karl was quite alarmed at how Leick drew attention to the entrance of his lair. Very impatient, young and foolish. He had anticipated that someone, sooner or later, would find the entrance. Karl went to his ancient books. He pulled down a very old book from the shelf. Large, dusty and bound in a beautiful red coloured leather, the book was laid on a table. Karl sat down on a wooden stool, creaking as it took the strain of his weight and opened the book. The book contained many different runes and symbols which to the untrained eye would appear to be gibberish. He flicked through the pages for a time then closed the book and put it back on the shelf. Karl left this cavern and made his way up to the visitor chamber. Over towards the entrance, Karl murmured a few words. Outside, he could hear the wind picking up, swirling about the entrance, into a wild tempest. The tempest raged around the forest, as if orientating itself with the surroundings, then it all stopped. A figure appeared in the chamber, not kindred, nor mortal. This was some sort of Demon. Karl whispered more words at the demon and it disappeared from the lair. Karl laughed to himself, "Let's see them get here now." - End of post. Karenthuras, Tremere. Karl turned round and looked at the pot with Leick's blood in it. He had forgotten about that, so he took the pot and went back to his study where he kept the sample with the others. This was the first time he'd had a sample from Leick. He had most other Kindred in the city, just a little something for a time of need. - End of post. Karenthuras, Tremere. It had been about three hours after the sun went down, and Victoria made her way through the streets. The rain was bouncing off the sidewalk and the sky was very black with clouds. She finally came to a tall building, stopped, looked up at it, before crossing the road and walking to the door. Victoria knocked on the door. There was no reply, then the door opened slowly. It led along a corridor, to a foyer area, Brujah guards dotted about the place. "You, take me to the Prince!" she called to one of the guards, "he IS expecting me." The Brujah, knowing better than to argue by now, led her to the lift. Just then Leick appeared in the foyer, "Well, if it isn't my little princess. Come to pay off more of your debt?" Victoria always had a greivance against Leick. Not only was he Brujah, but personally, he also was very sleazy and not much for holding a conversation with. She did not regard him very highly, Primogen or not. "You know I come here at this time, so why do you insist on being here to welcome me?" she enquired in emotional agony. "It's quite simple, Vicky -" "VICTORIA to you!!" she snapped. "How dare you use that excuse for an abbreviation to call upon my person!" He continued without acknowledgement to her last statement, "I love to see you come in here, stooping to the lowest, to the Prince, crawling on your belly in supplication. And yet you still hold so tightly onto the fallacy that you are better, or of higher "pedigree" than the rest of us. That amuses me." "But, surely you can see that I AM better than you? After all, look at the theatre, a prime example of quality blood being delivered straight to my doorstep. You would never have thought of that, would you? Instead, you feed on any waif and stray from the street and you dare laugh at me? Ha, you have a cheek..... I don't have time for this, lead me to the Prince now, I want to get to tonight's 'performance'." It was obvious that Leick just liked to torment Victoria with his presence and even as he led her into the lift he was still laughing to himself. If he dared laugh out loud, he'd probably get another earful, and this thought alone was enough to make him laugh, out of spite. The lift doors opened and Leick jumped out in front of Victoria, running up a couple of steps and into the Prince's personal chambers, Victoria's eyes burning at him as he went. She stood patiently, awaiting the arrival of the Prince, into the throne room. Then suddenly Leick emerged from the door followed by the Prince. "My dear Victoria," the Prince smiled, clearly this was one of his more lucid days. "You have come with money I presume?" "Yes your highness. Do you wish me to count it out for you and give the subtotal?" "No, that is not required of you this time, my dear." The Prince, as usual, appeared slightly dazed and was speaking rather slowly. Victoria noticed that Leick had left the throne room, as he did on many such occasions. "It is a marvellous theatre which you helped me build, Alexander, you should come some time and experience a performance, then we could share some drinks together." "No, no, my child, you don't understand. I have work to do, I can't just get up and leave when the fancy takes me. I'm not so young anymore either." "In that case, you must let me bring a mortal to you, to sample. They have a most refreshing taste, it'll do you good." "That sounds nice, but you won't pay your debt that way!" "The thought never even crossed my mind," she smiled as she turned back to the elevator. "Leave the money on the table, Victoria, and I wish you an entertaining evening." Victoria made her own way down to the foyer again and, head in the air, walked past the guards and to the door. "So very much to do," she heard the Prince sigh as he headed back to his chambers to rest. - End of post. Victoria Treagard, Ventrue. It was dark out. Karl wandered over the forest floor looking for the berries. The plant he looked for was all around him, there must be some berries fallen off about here. His head barely lifted in his search, until he heard something. Rustling, a giggle, then hushed whispers. Karl quickly hid behind a tree. He peered round about in the dark, found the direction of the speech and lay in wait. There were four altogether. Two boys and two girls, teenagers, no doubt up to no good. The boys were trying to light a fire while the girls sat at the side laughing at them. Karl watched them. Over at the group: "Hey, once we get this thing lit, we can all get a heat from it." "Yeah, I should try to find some dry wood, you keep doing that." He turned to the girls. "Do you want to help me find some wood?" They giggled a bit more then finally replied, "OK, if we have to." "No, you don't have to, I'm just asking if you want to." "Oh, go on," said the guy lighting the fire, "I'll maybe have more luck when you guys are gone." The girls stood up and walked off with the boy, still laughing and carrying on. Karl saw his chance. He moved in closer to where the fire was going to be. The boy turned round and got quite startled by Karl. "Hey there buddy, you want a hand?" Karenthuras asked him. "No thanks mister, it's almost lit." Just then Karl snapped a finger and the fire blazed to about a foot high. "WOW, how did you do that?" Karl grabbed the boy's head and covered his mouth, "Shut up you fool!" he whispered and sank his teeth into the boys neck. "Easy kill," he said to himself. The body lay beside the fire so Karl raised his hand a little and the grass grew round about the body, covering it, in the moonlit forest. He sat by the fire and waited. It wasn't long before the others returned, laughing and carrying on, with a bundle of wood which hardly justified the time they were gone. Karl didn't even move, his back to the approaching teenagers. "Hey, Jerry, you got the fire lit, then?" one of the girls said in amazement at the size of the flames. "Yeah," said Karl, turning his head to face them, his full demonic countenance revealed by the firelight. "He got the fire lit, but then decided to go for a sleep." He rose to his feet, "Why don't you join him?" The mortals did not run, they could not run, Karl held them there with his power of Dominance. "Come and sit with me," he gestured with his hand. They came over and sat by the fire. Karl walked round them and the fire, controlling them, holding them in place, placing fearful thoughts into their heads and started to murmur some words under his breath. You could see the fear in their eyes as he walked round, then he approached one of the girls and sniffed her hair. Down her neck he followed the scent and bit into her jugular, to the total disgust of the remaining two. "You will have your turn," he said, thrashing his head round to face them. "Tonight, you will both die!" He let the second body fall back to the ground. Still holding the two, he stood to full height again and looked at the boy. He held his arm out straight and clenched his fist, the boy bracing his neck, heard a final snap and he flopped back, dead. Karl called a name into the dark. The girl, hysteric now, couldn't screem, her silence creating more discomfort. Then a shadowy figure approached them, and on command took the girl at lightning speed back to the lair. The bodies disappeared from the scene as the figure moved away. Karl snapped a finger and as the flames died down, he slowly sank to the ground. The berries he'd been looking for, here they were on the floor. He started back to the lair. The girl stood in the dark, in shock. Karl spoke up, "Come this way," he ushered, "I lied. You will not die tonight." He led her down to some other chamber, where in a flash he had her chained to the earthy wall. "You can scream if you want, nobody will hear you, but you can do it. Then I'll kill you." The girl must have thought this an easy way out, but when she tried, she still could not scream. "In time you will learn to respect me, until then you will serve me without question. I must feed off of you, you must not resist." Karl did not feed any more that evening, preferring to keep the girl for next evening. - End of Post. Karethuras, Tremere.