Airegon turned away from Sheilina, her traveling companion.
   
    "As to why I was spying on you earlier, I told you that doesn't 
matter. That was an evil part of my life that I turned back to after 
Frost left. But I don't want to get into it now: it is kinda personal, 
alright? But I was spying on you because I'd heard rumors about you, 
such as, well, that you were a really strong sorceress. And I wanted to 
see if it was true, and from what I have seen I personally believe that 
it is true. And because of that I definitely don't trust you, though 
you've not done anything to me. Yet. 
    "As to number two, it is true. Though there are rumors that my 
parents were killed by Kine it's not the truth. I saw it with my own two 
eyes: he was there when they were killed. He was and he did it. I saw 
him." Airegon said, her voice full of emotion. "He was, he did. I know 
it," she repeated, as though she were trying to convince herself.  
"That's all I am going to tell you, because I don't like to speak of my 
past. All I will tell you is two years ago it was dark, lonely and evil. 
It's still dark and lonely, but not evil. It hadn't been lonely for a 
while till Frost left, but it is back that way now. 
    "Anyway," Airegon said now, obviously trying to get off the subject, 
"where is Frost?"


        - End of post.
          Airegon,
          Brujah.



Alone in the old warehouse, Nalal worked in the near dark. At night, he 
removed a couple of boards from the windows so the lights outside could 
seep in, providing enough illumination to read by.
    As he heaved the next tome from the store under the trap door, a 
cloud of dust stirred up, irritating the delicate skin on the Toreador's 
face. If he breathed, it would have started a fit of coughing, but 
luckily the Kindred only used their lungs for speech, and when he was 
alone, Nalal rested his internal organs. No use wasting precious blood 
to work those no-longer-vitals. Some liked to keep their bodies fully 
functioning; it reminded them of their humanity, but Nalal had been 
around long enough to realize that they'd all left their humanity behind 
a long time ago. Monsters we are, he remembered the Riddle, lest 
Monsters we become.
    Ah, he smiled gently. This was the book he was looking for. He 
hadn't read it over in a while, and something was nagging at him to do 
so. Maybe it was the part of his brain that yearned for knowledge, but 
Nalal wondered if his Auspex wasn't telling him to retrieve this hefty 
book. Maybe something in it was important. You never know.
    Shuffling over to the desk beside the window, the Toreador plopped 
the heavy item down. Running his hand along the cover, Nalal felt the 
rough texture. This was hundred of years old, written before any white 
man (live white men leastways) arrived on these shores. It was one of 
the works of Nbel, or at least, a transcription of his work. Nalal 
himself had translated some of Nbel's writings (a book or two buried 
under the floorboards) but this one he hadn't been involved in. It 
contained writing in the original Native tongue as well as a 
translation. After all these years, the Native American languages had 
gotten confused in Nalal's head, and he preferred to read the Bulgarian 
part, his mother tongue.
    Opening up the leather-bound tome, Nalal began to read. He flicked 
through the pages at random, reading snatches here and there. Nothing 
jumped out at him. He did this for nearly four hours until sunrise was 
fast approaching. He had almost decided to give up for the night when he 
read this passage:

    "And the Spirit shall cause the many to become one, and the
     day shall become as night, and the night as day. What was 
     dead is now alive, and the living dead. Woe to all life in
                  these, the final days of man."

    Was this a prophecy? It looked like it. Something yet to be... The 
first few words nagged at Nalal's brain, and he felt there was something 
he was missing. What was it?
    Snapping his fingers, the Toreador flicked over to the first half, 
that recorded in the original language. He quickly found the passage he 
wanted, and discovered he was correct. The translator of this passage 
(Grethor the Mighty, dead several centuries now) had made a mistake! The 
word for Spirit in the text was the word for ghost. Or more accurately, 
Nalal realized, Specter! The prophecy was of Specter's formation of the 
Crystal of Darkness. But that didn't make sense. Specter had given up 
her life to stop the destruction from happening (idly, Nalal wondered if 
she had known of this prophecy, and recognised it in her final moments). 
How could Nbel be wrong?
    It opened up a whole new world for Nalal. The future, though 
perceptible by Auspex, was not in fact solid. Whatever they glimpsed was 
only a probability, some quantum mechanical flux of chance that flowed 
past their brain, triggering images electro-chemically in their deceased 
synapses. What they saw was not the future, even for the most powerful 
of vampires. It was chance.
    Although it shook the very foundations of what Nalal thought he had 
known, it made perfect sense. It became a new foundation, a building 
block of hope. For if this Doom could be changed by one Cainite, all 
could forge their own destinies.
    Glancing down the page some more, Nalal read these words:

    "Yes, the truth is revealed. At the time when the Voice shall
     read the Words, he shall scatter them to the four winds.
     The truth will forever be broken, but available to all.
     Now is Hope. Now is Destruction. Now is the Final Death."

    This seemed to be directed at him. He had discovered the truth. But 
what did the rest of this mean?
    His skin began to sizzle as the first rays of dawn peeked in through 
the window. Time to close up shop, Nalal realized, and he began to seal 
his Haven against the light.
    The truth would have to wait for another night.


     
          - End of post.
            Nalal,
            Toreador.
            Posted by Leick.



It was just before dawn when Tamlin arrived in New Chelsea, and for now 
she needed shelter. Something drew her away from the city and toward the 
woods, where she found a cave that she decided would suffice for today. 
From inside she blocked the entrance with brush so that no light would 
come in from the rising sun, and as the sun rose she began to wonder 
what had lead her here.

Tamlin was very young. She was only 20 at the time she was Sired, and 
now thirty years later she was alone. She has always been different, 
although she had never known why until the age of 16. It was then that 
she began to get visions. As she got older her powers grew, but she was 
never taught how to use them. Now... now she had Tremere blood in her 
and with that her powers have grown at an alarming rate. However, her 
powers have grown much quicker than she has matured, and often get her 
in trouble. It was her powers that brought her here to New Chelsea, but 
for what she still does not know. So for now she sleeps here in this 
cave, till the sun fades out of view once more.


      - End of post.
        Tamlin,
        Tremere.



This day seemed to take longer that others. Tamlin was unable to sleep. 
She was plagued by strange images that she couldn't understand. It 
seemed as though her Tremere blood was trying to show her something that 
she couldn't see. Only very clouded and broken images appeared, but 
their appearance was enough to keep her awake.

Tamlin sat in her temporary shelter and waited for nightfall, but that 
was still hours away, so to occupy the time she began to reflect.

It seemed like only yesterday that she got her powers and at times like 
this she was still very afraid of them. She thought back to Ireland, her 
home, and about that night she met what was to be her future.

She had been in the library reading about her visions and how and why 
she had them, trying to learn so that she could control and understand 
them. A tall dark man came up to her and asked about the book she was 
reading. Embarrassed at what he might think of a young woman reading 
such a book she quickly put it back. He kept the conversation going, 
seeming to be very interested in her and her interest into this 
particular section of the library. Of course there was not much that she 
hadn't read in this section (it was a very limited collection) and so he 
offered for her to visit him the next evening to examine his collection, 
and to discuss the issue.

She agreed to meet him the following night and he left the library 
without another word.


        - End of post.
          Tamlin,
          Tremere.



Kayla Jade sat on her haunches as a wolf and howled over a recent kill 
with Gorge the wolf, who was sometimes a friend. They just got a kill, a 
young deer. She then misted back to her orginal form and licked the 
blood off her fingers. She enjoyed being a vampire with superior powers 
such as this but quickly remembered what she gave up for them. She'd 
only been a vampire for about 13 or 14 years. She lost count a while 
back. 

Her violet eyes flickered over to the area where not too long ago she 
saw a Kindred killer's fate being decided. A half smile played over her 
blood-red lips, knowning whoever it was had been Embraced, becoming the 
very thing the girl hunted. Kayla thought briefly about it, wondering if 
they would call a Hunt or leave the Malkavian be.  She then shrugged her 
shoulders smirking and continued feasting.  

               - End of Post,
                 Kayla Jade,
                 Gangrel.



Sheilina sat in the car, her eyes closed. Airegon began to wonder if 
she was asleep. Just when she was about to shake her, Sheilina sat up.

   "He's not here," she spoke suddenly, "... anymore. But he was."

   Airegon glared at her. "So you dragged me out here for nothing.  
Where is he?"

   "He's back in New Chelsea."

   "So we're heading back there, right?"

   "No," Sheilina disputed. "First I want to find out why he came here. 
Look Airegon, I know you want to find him, but I think there's something 
fishy going on around here and somehow Frost is involved.  And I want to 
find out what it is."

   "Well, all I want is to see Frost," Airegon pouted.

   "So what are you going to do? Walk back?"

   
       - End of post.
         Sheilina,
         Caitiff.



The nearing of nightfall brought Tamlin back to the present. She had to 
decide what she was going to do. She was in a new town and she would 
have to introduce herself to the Prince. But now, now all she could 
think of was food. She had been traveling for weeks; it takes time to 
travel when you can only move during the night. She wasn't even sure if 
this was her final destination. Nervously, she watched the few rays of 
sun that illuminated her shelter drift into the horizon.

The Prince would wait till tomorrow - she needed to understand why she 
was here first. But in order for her to use her powers she must first 
have her strength, and for that she must eat. Afraid of meeting up with 
other Kindred she ventured deeper into the forest to hunt for food.

While hunting in the woods another vision came, but she was tired and 
weak. It drained her and left her disoriented as she attempted to find 
food. Even in this condition, she managed to catch a few small animals 
for her meal. She began to regain her strength but, still nervous about 
meeting up with another Kindred, she headed back to her small shelter to 
prepare for day and to attempt to figure out why she was here... or at 
least a reason to tell the Prince.



      - End of post.
        Tamlin,
        Tremere.



Kerrigan walked slowly along the dark street. She hadn't fed in a few 
days and she could feel the Beast inside her crying out for the blood of 
a mortal to satisfy it. She spotted a lone figure standing at the other 
end of the street. It was a prostitute. A low digusting creature, 
selling her body and soul. Kerrigan decided that she would release this 
one from its suffering. She moved towards her swiftly, using her 
Celerity to approach undetected. She quickly made sure no one was 
watching and bit down on the whore's neck, producing a satisfying crunch 
as the bright blood spilled forth.
   Kerrigan drained the life out of the woman quickly then threw the 
body in the sewers. Then, her animal need met, she moved on.


     - End of post.
       Kerrigan,
       Brujah.



Victoria walked out of the Bezoar building into the street again.
'I am sure Leick is only in there when I need to see the Prince,' she 
thought to herself. She had been in seeing the Prince to pay off more of 
her debt. She almost owned the theatre herself now, perhaps one or two 
more payments would settle the deal. Leick was always there when she 
went to the Bezoar building, and she hated that.

It was early in the evening, so Victoria decided to go through the city 
centre, on her way home. The clubs were all open and she could see all 
sorts of interesting people. She would never feed on these types, of 
course, never knew what she may be feeding on, but looking was fine.

The city centre was alive! Kine took to the streets till all hours when 
the clubs and pubs opened late. This was an excellent time for Kindred 
to feed. No fuss, because of the hustle and bustle all around. Nobody 
would interfere either, most wouldn't even notice, if someone was 
bleeding in the street with no recollection of how they got into that 
state. They just pass by; selfish mortal quality!

She walked along a little further. The "Red Scorpion" dance club was 
known in Kindred society. It was owned by some Kindred in the city. She 
didn't know them personally, but knew of them. When she entered the 
club, a large man walked over to her, sensed she was Kindred and backed 
away again. The first level was really busy, the other three were 
probably just as busy, but the music was different on each floor, to 
suit the varied taste of the people who frequented here.

Victoria found a nice table on the top floor. Jazz music played away, 
from a live band over by the bar. She could hear the buzz on the street 
outside and the muffled sound of rock from the floor below.

A waitress came over to the table.

"Madam, the gentleman by the jukebox," (which Victoria saw was sitting 
quiet) "would like you to accept this drink," the waitress said, placing 
it on the table and smiling.

"Thank you," Victoria smiled back, "and please, could you thank that 
kind gentleman too?"

"Certainly, madam, enjoy your drink." The waitress left and headed over 
to the man to thank him.

Victoria could feel her need for blood wrestling with her, but she knew 
she would be safe with this man. He was Kine, he liked jazz - that's 
cultured enough. 'Isn't it?' she asked herself. Suddenly, she thought 
back to what Iliana had said to her. There had been too many killings in 
the city, at this rate there won't be many more Kindred allowed to stay. 

'I just have to drink from him, not kill him,' she thought. 'I may as 
well have some fun with him along the way.'


          - End of Post.
            Victoria Treagard,
            Ventrue.



Considering Sheilina's ultimatum, Airegon made a decision:
   "If I have to, yes," she said stubbornly. If Sheilina wouldn't help 
her look for Frost, then Airegon would just have to do it alone. "I am 
assuming you don't want to take me back. So bye.
   "Oh," Airegon added, "and I'll try and convince him to let you talk 
to him. Alright? Goodbye." 
   Those were Airegon's last words to Sheilina as she stalked away into 
the night.



       - End of post.
         Airegon,
         Brujah.