Shadow was growing annoyed. So far his tenure in the Gothic City was 
uneventful. Well, uneventful as far as any sort of challenge was 
concerned. Night after night it was the same thing. He would leave 
his employer, gun down a few hapless mortals or even the occasional 
Kindred and then maybe return for more instructions. The only thing 
that could be even considered remotely worth his talents was the 
blasted sewer rat that kept evading him.

The Caitiff smiled to himself. He was growing to have a measure of 
respect for the Nosferatu he was hunting. He didn't even know if it 
was male or female. He only knew that he needed to hunt this one. He 
had come close the other night during his sojourn in the sewers. So 
close he could smell the ugly little cainite. He sighed to himself. 
It would be a shame when he finally caught it. He knew he would 
regret it as well because, deep down, he felt that it would be such 
a loss to kill such an opponent. Maybe after he caught up with the 
rat he couldn't kill it. But enough of that, he thought.

The Californian looked up at the moon. Amazing. No rain. Shadow 
shook his head and screwed his one eye shut as horrid odors invaded 
his nostrils. He started to contemplate this latest assignment. He 
couldn't for the life, or death, of him figure out why Vincent would 
want to go for the few Asian clubs in the city. To his knowledge, 
there were still more viable targets left in the area surrounding 
"The Vampire". Shadow shrugged. If Vincent wanted to bite off more 
than his fangs could chew on, that was his problem not Shadow's.

The Caitiff strode purposefully into the club. His nostrils flared 
again as smoke and various other aromas assaulted his senses. His 
monocular gaze swept the room. A few tramps, drunks - the usual 
suspects, he thought to himself. He almost chuckled. Good movie, he 
remembered. He shook his head clear once more. His gaze locked on a 
table in the back and swept its occupants. Tattoos. Damn, I hate 
Yakuza, he thought.

He strode to the bar and spun around, placing his back against the 
wood. The bartender started speaking but the gunman waved him off. 
His muscles tensed up a bit. Waiting. The Yaks were looking 
curiously at him and speaking to each other. Come on, Shadow thought 
to himself. Make a move, give me a challenge at least. Try to make 
your deaths worthwhile. One of them stood and walked over to the 
Cainite, puffing himself up a bit, trying to look menacing. Shadow 
closed his eye and suppressed a chuckle. The Asian stopped right in 
front of the big Caitiff...

Close enough, Shadow thought. He boosted his speed as much as he 
could get away with. His hands blurred as he reached out and twisted 
the Yak's head, snapping the neck. Before the body even hit the 
ground, two submachine guns appeared in the Kindred's hands and 
began spitting phosphorus-tipped death into the remaining Asian 
gangsters. Blood splattered against the walls as the bullets pierced 
through their bodies, the phosphorus setting their flesh on fire. 
Shadow then spun his attention on the rest of the occupants. He let 
the first three exit out of the door before cutting down the rest.

As his weapons clicked on empty, Shadow surveyed the carnage. Blood 
and burning bodies lay scattered everywhere. He dropped a grenade 
behind the bar as he strode out into the street. The shockwave from 
the explosion nearly knocked him from his feet. Next on the list? 
Damn, more than a mile away. Shadow shrugged. Death had come to the 
Asian quarter. So little time, so many people to kill.





Vincent grinned to himself. The Yakuza would be hunting all over the 
city for Shadow now. So much the better. With the work the Caitiff 
had done for him so far, Vincent almost didn't need him anymore.

Oh yes, my friend, he thought. Your time grows so short.



           - End of Post.
             Shadow,
             Caitiff.






Tempest strode confidently into the large office. No-one was there; 
after all, it was midnight. He walked up the stairs, paused about 
halfway and waited for his companion, Rastlin. The latter caught up 
and together the two walked silently up the stairs. When they 
reached the top floor they stopped.

"Where now?" Tempest asked quietly.

"Follow," replied Rastlin simply. Rastlin led him to a wall and 
walked through. Warily, Tempest followed suit, and ended up in the 
middle of a darkened passage with Rastlin only a few inches from 
him. Rastlin strode foward.

After minutes of walking, Tempest ended up in a large circular room 
with a huge desk placed in the center. It was jet black and there 
were seven stained glass windows around the room. These were the 
only source of light, casting a blood red wash over the entire room. 
After noticing this, Tempest realized that Rastlin was no longer 
here. Then, with a bright flash of light, there was a man sitting in 
the chair.

"Ah, you have come," he smiled coldly.

"Yes, what of it?" Tempest said rudely.

The man's expression remained unchanged. "I need you to do something 
for me."

"Why should I do this?"

"Oh, I will pay you of course," he continued to smile. "It will 
require... fixing some problems for me, so to speak."

"Ah, problems," Tempest nodded, understanding perfectly. "How much? 
And who?"

"As much as you need. Money is of no consequence to me. Oh and I 
need you to be as loud as possible."

"Loud?" Tempest didn't understand.

"Yes, get as much attention as you can. I don't care how many you 
kill as long as you kill Talrok and his companions."

"Talrak? Without more info, that name ain't gonna do me a whole 
helluva lot a good."

"He goes by the name Nathan Xanne, and he is involved with the 
Sabbat - a key player in fact."

"Ok," Tempest was satisfied. "I'll want $6000 up front, and $8000 
after I deliver ok?"

The other man nodded. "You can find Nathan at the Inferno night 
club. He will be seated in a private back room." Tempest's 
mysterious employer counted out $6000 in large bills and handed them 
to Tempest. The Gangrel then walked slowly back the way he came, 
careful to remember every detail.

Tempest walked until he reached Inferno. It was still extremely 
busy. As Tempest watched from the building across the street, even 
more people arrived. A sly and dangerous grin came across Tempest's 
face.

"Tomorrow," Tempest said softly to the wind, then turned and walked 
slowly away.


             - End of Post.
               Tempest,
               Gangrel.






Chairs scraped roughly across the smooth floor with a unified 
screech, as all six Primogen sat at the long table, with Prince 
Laplace seated at the head. There was nothing in particular that the 
Council was gathered to discuss - it was merely time for their 
weekly meeting.
   Alexander Laplace had been sitting in on more and more of these 
session of late. It was slightly worrisome to Rutger Leick. If this 
continued, he may have to make his move (whatever that may be) very 
soon - or so said some corner of his mind, a part separated somehow 
from the rest.
   The Brujah Primogen rubbed his chin thoughtfully as Dia Knight 
began her weekly rant. Everyone knew she didn't represent the 
Malkavians as a whole - the Kooks couldn't get themselves that 
organized. So Leick used this time to formulate his own thoughts. 
These times were always stimulating for his mind - it was certainly 
given no outside stimulus during the meetings. It was the only time 
of the week he could actually let his mind wander!
   He had spent his time with Sherilyn well - her training was 
coming along nicely. Her mind was even able to focus on one subject 
for more than five minutes now. There was definite progress.
   The more significant issue for now was Hope Chitcka. She was 
trickier than he had initially thought. She refused to partake of 
any of his Blood until after he had helped her take out her wrath on 
her sister, Cheyenne. Rutger glanced briefly over at Iliana, the 
Ventrue Primogen. If the whore got word of their scheming she'd sure 
as hell be bringing it up in one of these meetings and getting Leick 
into a whole lot of mess. Not more than he could get out of, to be 
sure, but it wasn't something he looked forward to. Best to avoid 
that, he confirmed.
   But it was still unclear exactly what the Chitcka girl wanted him 
to do. He wasn't even certain of all the details of her beef against 
her sister and Shandrill Moorhar. He knew they had left Hope in 
London, but that was all Leick had been able to glean. He just hoped 
she wasn't mixed up in any larger forces than the ones she was 
letting on about...
   A dark frown passed across his face then as he thought about 
Airegon again. That little anarch whose life he had foolishly saved. 
What had possessed him to bring her to Karenthuras for help? He 
should have let her die there, drained of blood by Laplace. He knew 
he hadn't heard the last of her - the last he had was when she had 
been seen running back to Fredrick Frost the clanless wonder. Now 
there's a Cainite he'd like to see put to Final Death.
   Knight was seated now, Leick realized, and Jack Lewis was 
standing, clearing his twisted throat. Saliva dripped from his 
jutting fangs, and his squinty eyes darted about nervously. Soon, 
his cold voice started to whisper out.
   "I am happy to report," he mumbled, "that there have been no more 
signs of anarchic activity from the mutant Nosferatu called Lilith. 
Laplace's show of strength after the attack on his life appears to 
have accomplished the desired goal."
   Something you were unable to do, Leick scowled at the Nosferatu 
Primogen. No control over your own clan.
   "Some of you," the ugly vampire Elder continued, "may have heard 
about some recent trouble in the center of town - some man killing 
his own kind around the club scene."
   "What has that to do with anything?" Iliana yawned, checking out 
her nails.
   Lewis cowered slightly, before continuing in an annoyed tone of 
voice, "One of my Nosferatu (Drukh, whom you may remember from the 
Lilith incident) happened across one of the crime scenes, while the 
crime was still in progress. From the prowess and agility the killer 
showed, she feels he may be Kindred."
   "Do we have anything concrete?" Grogan intoned, his deep-sunk 
eyes immersed in shadow.
   The Nosferatu Primogen shrugged. "None as yet. But Drukh barely 
escaped this madman with her life."
   - He's a Cainite -
   "He's a Cainite," Leick repeated the words before he thought it 
through.
   "How could you know?" Lucien duCharne cocked his heavy head to 
the side, eyes intent.
   "I have my sources," Leick said, at the prompting of an inner 
voice. "Their information, combined with Lewis' leaves me with no 
doubt as to the perpetrator's nature."
   - Good. Very well handled -
   "I don't suppose you wish to divulge those sources," Laplace 
joined in, his voice light and high-pitched. Leick shook his head 
slowly. "Then we cannot be so certain as yourself. Unless you can 
provide us with this convincing evidence, we'll have to investigate 
for ourselves. If there are no objections, I'll send Rand 
Windrunner."
   Rutger Leick had plenty of objections, but voiced none of them. 
Something about Laplace's tone suggested he knew more than he was 
telling. Leick knew he'd have to work around Windrunner, the Tremere 
who was Laplace's bulky enforcer. This Cainite who was harassing the 
clubs had raw talent, Leick could use that. He could see no reason 
why the killer would join his team, but the voice in his head merely 
told him again to seek him out. So he would.
   The meeting didn't last long after that; no-one had anything of 
value to say. Laplace repeated his intentions to have Windrunner 
tentatively investigate the club scene, and then the Primogen filed 
out.
   As he left, Leick's brow remained furrowed. Sometimes, no matter 
how much power he held, the Brujah felt as though he were merely 
being swept along by forces beyond his control. The more paranoid 
among Kindred referred to this as the Jyhad, but Leick was far too 
grounded to believe that the Antediluvians controled all Cainites 
like pawns in a great game of chess. Nor did he buy the whole 
'cycle' theory - that the Antediluvians all slept beneath the Earth, 
and would awake at Gehenna, the end of the Third Cycle, to drink the 
Blood of all Kindred. Such was mere foolishness.
   But the feeling remained, nonetheless.


             - End of Post.
               Rutger Leick,
               Brujah Primogen.







Alain Roche watched the Shadow enter one of his nightclubs, if it 
could be called that! He had been reliably informed that this place 
would be hit, the Yakuza who had told him would be promoted. Cameras 
had been set up, everything had been ready.

Then the Caitiff had arrived and wreaked his usual act of 
destruction. Interesting. His attack had showed pure aggression and 
an over-reliance upon his enhanced abilities. He would have been no 
match for one of Ryu's "Eleven." He had seen the man at work. He had 
"smoked" his aura. Alain smiled. The hunter would become the hunted.

Alain returned, at leasure, to his house and was met by Sekuyu. 
Ritually he bathed, then prepared himself. Hours went by... Then, 
when ready, he entered the "Temple" and conducted the rite. Occult 
law would now take over. The spell had been cast. The Shadow would 
begin to feel weaker, lust for blood, yet derive no sustenance from 
it, lose weight and weaken even further. He would begin to be 
tormented with nightmares, true ones from the Goddess herself. He 
would seek Alain out. The reception room was ready, there was only 
one way out through Alain and Sekuyu and the other nine "converted". 
Then Shadow's head would be presented on a platter to Laplace.

Then Alain would kill the one that had sent him. He knew his duty to 
Laplace and his Clan


             - End of Post.
               Alain Roche,
               Tremere.







Tempest walked through the Inferno night club until he reached the 
large steel door at the back. He opened it and walked in. He was 
immediately confronted by four guards.

"You're not on the list," one of the guards said.

"Get lost!" another growled.

Tempest's only reply was made with his sword. The first three men 
were dead almost instantly; the other had time to scream, "Help..." 
Then he was dead too. After dispatching the guards, Tempest noticed 
that there was a party going on.

About seventy-five people were in the room, but no-one seemed to 
notice the dead guards. After walking through the crowd, Tempest 
noticed a man sitting at a black table with six other men. He 
guessed that the man sitting on the end was Nathan, so he pulled out 
two hand guns from his jacket and started to fire in the direction 
of the table. Many tried to run; few escaped. They were caught in a 
hellstorm of bullets.

When he reached the table, the man had just started to run for the 
rear exit. Tempest ran after him, grabbed his suit and threw him 
against the wall.

"You're gonna die!" Tempest grinned as he said this.

"Please, don't kill me, I'll pay you!" Nathan practically cried his 
reply out.

Tempest answered by dropping his guns and, pulling two steel stakes 
from his jacket, he dragged the man to his feet.

"Thank you," he sighed, relieved.

Tempest then thrust the spikes through Nathan's shoulders and pinned 
him to the wall. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Nathan screamed. Then Tempest 
summoned his sword and decapitated the man. He then turned, drew 
forth another gun, and started to fire. Then he rushed towards the 
rear door. When he reached the alley he swung onto the fire escape 
and made his way to the roof.

When he reached the roof, he pulled a couple of explosive charges 
from his jacket and scattered them across the roof. He then dropped 
from the roof, landed in the alley, ran across the street, climbed 
to the roof and waited for the police. When they arrived, Tempest 
pressed the button on the detonator and the building started to 
erupt into a fireball. After Tempest was done watching this, he 
dropped from this roof and walked to the nearest man-hole. He ripped 
it off and dropped into the darkness of the sewer system.


              - End of Post.
                Tempest,
                Gangrel.







By the time Alain and Sekuyu caught up with Shadow, the Caitiff 
could hardly walk. Alain had shattered the door into his room and 
Shadow had hardly enough strength to lift up his guns. He had fired, 
Alain just stood there as each shot met some force - Alain's will. 
The magazines were empty, all had been spent.

Only when Shadow recognized who Alain was, the being in his 
nightmares, did Alain speak. "My dear Shadow," there was concern in 
Alain's voice, "I am so sorry to have to do this to you. However, 
honor is honor."

Slowly, Alain drew out his Katakana, then touched the Shadow's neck 
with its blade. Nikko's soul, the soul of the blade, sang and 
touched its victim. He would now realize that any cut from it would 
never heal.

Alain quickly withdrew the blade. "Shadow, I am here as a messenger 
of sorts. So please listen.

"You have invaded the sanctity of the Japanese quarter which, 
although under my control, is under the ultimate rule of Prince 
Laplace. I so dearly wanted to kill you for the infringement upon my 
club. It would not be a personal decision, more to do with honor, 
and my duty to those that I protect." Alain smiled. "But, my Prince 
ordered me not to. So I do not lose honor. He knows me well.

"Let me just give you a piece of advice, please: Do not commit such 
acts in the Japanese quarter again, because I am not so sure that 
Laplace could stop me a second time."

Alain looked around the room, noted the cat. Then killed it. "A 
lesson," Alain nodded grimly. "You took something that I valued, so 
now I have something that you valued." Then, turning, he made his 
way out of the room; at the doorway, he faced Shadow again. "By the 
way, people forget that first and foremost I am a sorcerer, they 
very rarely see past the role of assassin. I chose to become as I 
am; achieved through pure occult lore. The curse I put on you would 
have destroyed you in the end...."

"And...?"

"You were used. Whoever hired you knew that one of us would get to 
you and possibly kill you. If I were you, I would present yourself 
to the Prince."

Alain paused, "I would be more than honored to escort you to him. 
For a Californian, you do pack one hell of a punch. A bit messy, but 
one  hell of a punch."

Alain bored into Shadow's eyes, his soft voice hardened, "Another 
thing, before you think I am a soft touch, research who I am. You 
should have done that in the first place. I am Ryu Kassiguru, the 
one who destroyed a whole clan in Japan when they threatened their - 
my -  Prince. Remember that....."

Alain walked out of the room; in a few hours Shadow would be back to 
normal - his health restored. Alain smiled. He liked the hot-headed 
Californian. He just hoped they could be friends. He hoped that he 
would not have to kill him.

Under his breath, Alain whispered, "Thanks, my Prince, for giving me 
an honorable choice."


             - End of Post.
               Alain Roche,
               Tremere.






By the time Alain and Sekuyu caught up with Shadow, the Caitiff 
could hardly walk. Alain had shattered the door into his room and 
Shadow had hardly enough strength to lift up his guns. He had fired, 
Alain just stood there as each shot met some force - Alain's will. 
The magazines were empty, all had been spent.

Only when Shadow recognized who Alain was, the being in his 
nightmares, did Alain speak. "My dear Shadow," there was concern in 
Alain's voice, "I am so sorry to have to do this to you. However, 
honor is honor."

Slowly, Alain drew out his Katakana, then touched the Shadow's neck 
with its blade. Nikko's soul, the soul of the blade, sang and 
touched its victim. He would now realize that any cut from it would 
never heal.

Alain quickly withdrew the blade. "Shadow, I am here as a messenger 
of sorts. So please listen.

"You have invaded the sanctity of the Japanese quarter which, 
although under my control, is under the ultimate rule of Prince 
Laplace. I so dearly wanted to kill you for the infringement upon my 
club. It would not be a personal decision, more to do with honor, 
and my duty to those that I protect." Alain smiled. "But, my Prince 
ordered me not to. So I do not lose honor. He knows me well.

"Let me just give you a piece of advice, please: Do not commit such 
acts in the Japanese quarter again, because I am not so sure that 
Laplace could stop me a second time."

Alain looked around the room, noted the cat. Then killed it. "A 
lesson," Alain nodded grimly. "You took something that I valued, so 
now I have something that you valued." Then, turning, he made his 
way out of the room; at the doorway, he faced Shadow again. "By the 
way, people forget that first and foremost I am a sorcerer, they 
very rarely see past the role of assassin. I chose to become as I 
am; achieved through pure occult lore. The curse I put on you would 
have destroyed you in the end...."

"And...?"

"You were used. Whoever hired you knew that one of us would get to 
you and possibly kill you. If I were you, I would present yourself 
to the Prince."

Alain paused, "I would be more than honored to escort you to him. 
For a Californian, you do pack one hell of a punch. A bit messy, but 
one  hell of a punch."

Alain bored into Shadow's eyes, his soft voice hardened, "Another 
thing, before you think I am a soft touch, research who I am. You 
should have done that in the first place. I am Ryu Kassiguru, the 
one who destroyed a whole clan in Japan when they threatened their - 
my -  Prince. Remember that....."

Alain walked out of the room; in a few hours Shadow would be back to 
normal - his health restored. Alain smiled. He liked the hot-headed 
Californian. He just hoped they could be friends. He hoped that he 
would not have to kill him.

Under his breath, Alain whispered, "Thanks, my Prince, for giving me 
an honorable choice."


             - End of Post.
               Alain Roche,
               Tremere.







  Cochrane sat in a chair in the large foyer of Frost's Mansion. 
Frost and Rachelle had left an hour ago. Cochrane had asked them to 
meet a contact on the rooftop of the New Chelsea bylaw building. 
They had no idea what they were in for. By the end of the night, 
Frost would be dead and Masamune would lie in the hands of the 
sinister Cray. With that potent weapon soon to be in Sabbat hands, 
it was time to begin phase two. The city was in chaos, with several 
attacks on nightclubs in the last few weeks the Primogen council 
were too busy with searching for the guilty to bother with the 
Sabbat. The perfect time to set up. Three Sabbat safe houses were 
being established to house warriors for the upcoming battles. One in 
downtown New Chelsea, one in the Japanese quarter and one in a 
suburban neighborhood. Currently there would only be three Sabbat 
neonates at each to guard them until more forces arrived, but soon 
this city would be filled with Sabbat and those three safe houses 
would be the center for their activities. This mansion would be 
their base of operations. It was so beautifully away from the city.

  Cochrane heard the back door open. The tempo of the footsteps 
indicated that it was his assistant returning to give him news on 
the safe houses. "What have you to report?"  the Sabbat leader asked 
coldly.

  "The three safe houses are purchased and being prepared for our 
arrivals as we speak. They should be fully ready in five days, right 
on schedule," her voice was as cold as Cochrane's and she stood at 
attention.

  "Good, good," he mumbled to himself. "You may go," he said waving 
her away. By the time he looked back for her she was gone. Cochrane 
half smiled. Nothing to do now but wait for Cray and Masamune.

               - End of Post.
                 Michael Cochrane,
                 Sabbat.
                 Posted by Fredrick Frost.






After leaving Shadow, Alain remained cautious. Gently, he asked 
Sekuyu to keep a an eye on the angry Caitiff. Slowly, he ambled 
through the city towards his house. The streets were almost empty, 
apart from a couple here and there. Alain sighed. When was the last 
time he had truly loved...? Sekuyu was his second love in over two 
centuries. Whenever meeting people, he stepped off the pavement and 
smiled at them. "And so the Masquerade is maintained," he mused.

Alain looked in windows, maybe he should buy Sekuyu something... 
Then finally he made his way to the weapon smith. He knocked on the 
door, an ancient face peered out.

"Ahh Ryu-san, the weapons you requested are ready."

Following the old man inside he saw the two Katanas on the table. 
Their blades, the cutting edge, had been folded over a thousand 
times to make them flexible as a willow yet strong as steel.

Alain smiled, bowed. "Hishoi, you have shown me great honor. How can 
I thank you?"

Hishoi smiled, his old teeth rotting away. "Ryu-san, it is good to 
see the eleventh house back, its gentleness and support of the old 
ways. The artizans of this quarter and back home thought that this 
should be a gift; so no payment please, Ryu-san." His hands extended 
to the sword on the table.

The door burst open, Alain's Katakana seemed to jump into his hands. 
Before him stood Kisha, his trusted captain. "Ryu-san," he panted. 
"I am sorry to intrude. I beg your forgiveness, but Sekuyu has been 
destroyed."

Alain's face remained motionless. "Who?"

"Shadow," came the reply.

Instant ice-cold calmness settled over Alain. Tears formed, not of 
fear, but for Sekuyu. Moments later he was out in the street. He 
still could sense the location of Shadow, the spell had not worn 
off. He headed forwards.....

"Shadow!" Alain cried, his voice rolling in echoes down the street. 
The figure turned and faced him.

The Californian sneered at him. "Come to avenge your little whore?" 
Alain's face remained calm, even when the grenade was thrown at him. 
The Californian had laughed; until Alain stepped out of a nearby 
alley, somehow having avoided the explosion altogether. Seeing these 
miracles performed before his eyes, Shadow's face became a mask of 
fear.

Ryu smiled. "Shadow, I will not kill you with my sword."

Then Alain's eyes glowed green, as did his hands. Slowly extending 
his hands, green fire spread over Shadow. The Caitiff screamed as 
the pain engulfed him. Still Alain remained emotionless. Alain knew 
that the destruction would be slow, it was the most painful way he 
could think of ending the Shadow's existence.







Alain stood in front of his Prince Laplace with the body of Sekuyu, 
gently wrapped in silk within his arms. Shadow's corpse had been 
dropped unceremoniously nearby.

Alain's face looked to the floor. Laplace had said nothing. Even his 
face displayed no emotion. His summoned Tremere Lord offered no 
protection, no look of help.

Alain bowed his head and chose to ignore the rank of his Tremere 
Lord. Marcus Grogan would not note it, but the Prince would. "My 
Prince Laplace, here I bring you the bodies of two of our Kindred. 
Our brother and sister. The one in my arms, Sekuyu, was my mate. The 
other is Shadow, who dstroyed her. I claim the full responsibility 
for the act. I ask, no beg, only of one thing...."

Laplace's stare bored into Alain's eyes. "Well, Ryu?"

"That I bury Sekuyu first, before presenting myself to you for 
Sepuku." Alain had offered to end his own existence as a payment for 
his disobedience to the Prince. Alain felt no anger, no pride or any 
fear. He had merely done that which he had been honor bound to do. 
The fact that Sekuyu no longer existed was the only thing that gave 
him pain....

Silence settled as Alain waited for Laplace's reply and command....


            - End of Post.
              Alain Roche,
              Tremere.






Psychic energy, released from Alain Roche's broken spell, wafted 
through the Astral plane. Amber waves of pain swept through the 
ether, touching the minds of those sensitive Kindred who slept this 
next day. The magic carried with it the violence of death, the dark 
hole of non-existence. It troubled the sleep of one older Caitiff in 
New Chelsea...



Xero and Beo walked into a dark alley.

"Long time no see," popped out of the blue.

"Who are you?" asked Beo.

"You know," replied the voice.

"Ralph?" asked Beo.

"Yep," said the voice. "You still working as an assassin, Beo?"

"Why, do you have a job?"

"Yeah, I want you to kill this vampire named Shadow. He has violated 
the vampire code and must be killed. I have already received 
permission from the Prince. Will you do it?"

"All right," the dog nodded. "I'm in a killing mood today."

The man slipped Xero, who stood over his canine companion, a piece 
of paper and said, "Good luck." Both beings went to the club 
"Vampire" where they saw a Cainite with an eye patch that could ony 
be Shadow sitting in a dark corner.

Seeing them and sensing their intent, Shadow pulled out his guns and 
looked at both monsters. Then in a flash, Xero and Beo pounced on 
Shadow, pinning him to the floor. Xero pulled out handcuffs, locked 
Shadow's hands and feet together while Beo knocked the vampire out, 
and then put him on Beo's back. They took Shadow to the club roof 
where they tied him to a steel crane, immobilizing Shadow, then they 
used smelling salts to wake him up.

Shadow said with an evil smirk, "You can't kill me!"

Xero kicked Shadow and said, "Wanna bet? We're gonna gag you and 
then we're gonna leave you here to burn in the sun. And do you even 
know why? Next time, before you go around dishonoring things and 
killing vampires, you better get permission from the Prince!" 
Thinking for a minute, he added, "But then, I don't guess there's 
gonna be a next time, is there?"

Then the Ghoul and Kindred went downstairs and left the club, 
damning Shadow to a fiery death.


             -  End of Post.
                Xero,
                Caitiff.






In some minds, the darkest depths of depravity skulk, feeding on 
fear and hate. Death is attracted to these spirits, seeking them out 
like a bee to pollen. Some magic carries with it the touch of death, 
magic released upon cessation of existence. This magic can affect 
its host, give it visions, daydreams. Delusions of murder and 
bloodletting.

Such a mind has Liltih, the mutant Nosferatu...






Drukh was racing through the fine New Chelsea sewers at top speed. 
Unfortunately for her, Shadow was faster and was quickly catching up 
to her. "Not like this, not like this," muttered the Nosferatu. She 
was not anxious to meet her Final Death so soon.

Cackling as he ran, Shadow taunted his quarry, "Please stop little 
one! I have a grenade with your name on it."

Drukh stifled her cries of fear and ran faster, faster and faster; 
her only chance of escaping was to reach the floodgates at the end 
of the corridor.

A few metres from escape, she tripped over a vine and into a murky 
pool of water. "Where the hell did that come from?!" cried Drukh as 
she struggled to stand.

The vine was no longer at her feet. In reality, it was a mutated 
snake that drank out of Lilith's Blood Pool. The monstrosity lunged 
forward and devoured her pursuer in one gulp.

Applauding, Lilith kneeled beside Drukh. "Excellent my pet. Now spit 
out the head for our friend here."

The snake arched its head and spit out a head. Drukh was still 
staring at Lilith when she forced herself to look at the head.

Lilith folded her arms and spoke in a comforting voice. "Now Drukh, 
you are Nosferatu and are always welcome down here. But next time, 
try not to bring fugitives. We hate it when it gets crowded, though 
our pets don't seem to mind." Her voice hardened. "Return to the 
Prince and tell him Shadow is dead. GO!"

In a heartbeat, if Lilith had a living heart, Drukh was gone. Lilith 
glanced toward her Progeny to check on Sarah and Sonya. The pair was 
playing with the grotesque serpent, which in a coughing fit, spat 
out a half dozen more human heads. Shadow soon followed.

"I am Lilith. I offer you one chance to walk out of this city alive 
and none the worse for wear. You have my word if you cooperate 
fully."  She smiled. "Thank you for not using your explosives to 
free yourself from my pet. The mess would take days to clean up."

Shadow, covered with digestive juices, stood up and brushed himself 
off. "Your word is your bond and blah blah blah. Ask your questions 
- I'm suddenly aching to return to California."

She continuously circled Shadow. "I have a dozen questions to ask 
you but it all leads down to three. Are the Yakuza allied with the 
Sabbat?"

"To my knowledge, no," he replied.

Lilith looked relieved then asked the second question, "The 
locations of the Sabbat safehouses in this city. Where are they?"

Shadow pulled out a map and casually tossed it to Lilith.  
"Downtown, a suburban neighborhood and your favorite area, ThE 
jApAnEsE qUaRtEr."

Lilith surveyed the map, then passed it to Sarah. "Give this to the 
Prince and tell him to proceed as planned. The 'anarch revolt' has 
been dealt with."

Sarah shrouded herself into the form of a policewoman, bowed, then 
left.

"Now, Shadow, the last question: Do you like your blood shaken or 
stirred?" Lilith asked with a serious expression on her face.

Lilith's favorite Childe, Sonya, quickly swooped in behind Shadow 
and quartered him, slicing off his arms, legs and tongue.

Sarah returned and took her place beside Sonya. Since Sonya was 
Lilith's favorite, she mustered up her courage to ask, "Lilith... 
may we... could we...?"

Lilith glared. "You two have been watching too much TV. The rats are 
not to drink out of the Blood Pools and I doubt they would be able 
to emit electricity even if you hooked them up to batteries. They 
know better than to disobey me and so should you." Then Lilith 
nodded her head in surrender. "If you wish, we'll go raid the zoo 
for another pet. Perhaps a panther or jaguar this time."

Sonya and Sarah gleefully jumped up and down for joy as the unholy 
trio embarked to return to the surface.


             - End of Post.
               Lilith,
               Nosferatu.