Nexus of Power

[DJDizzy]

You wake up lined in a circle on what appears to be an abandoned mansion. You dont remember anything about yourself or your past. You can still conjure up magic from the supernal, although whoever cleaned you out of your memory, did a good job. It is night outside, and a wolf's howl can be heard. You have all of your equipment on you. You dont know the others lying next to you, they could be allies or enemies.

Inside the mansion, which is rather dusty, giving you the impression that it has been abandoned for years, you see a letter lying on one of the grand tables in the dining room you are lying in. The letter is sealed carrying a red seal with a depicting of a dragon in a circle.


Looks like this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:LogoClanTzimisce1.png

[Hashmir]

Pythias blinked a few times before registering where he was. Glancing around, he quickly realized that this place -- wait, where was this place? He noticed the people around him: all strangers.

Who were they? What was going on? Pythias panicked for a moment, retreating a few yards from the others and reflexively casting the first rote he had ever learned on the nearest body he could see.

Know the Wolf by His Stance

Covert, Instant, Concentration

(Wits [4] + Empathy [3] + Mind [3])
[roll0]

EDIT: Er, that's three successes. Not that it should do anything, but it's what Pythias would do. :smallbiggrin:

[DJDizzy]

Okay, reveal your auras shady.

[Ashbound Sage]

The man with brown mussed hair and matching trimmed beard sat up to take a look at his surroundings. He is dressed in relaxed khaki cargo pants and a green flannel button down shirt opened partway to reveal a white tee beneath. He also sports a pair of grey rimmed glasses and a dazed expression. “What happened?” he groans as he attempts to stand.

His words turn into a choked cry as a burst of searing pain tears through his leg. For a split second his world is plunged into a crucible of molten lead. The bones in his leg reject his feeble attempt to stand. A resounding thump echoes through the hall as he is unexpectedly returned to the floor.

“What… what the hell…” He manages weakly, “H-help…”

Even through the lingering remains of pain and the haze left over from his forced bout of amnesia, he knows that this is a normal part of himself, though he cannot remember why. What he can remember, however, is that he has some item to make it manageable. It is a cane, cold and dark, with a handle of glittering amber. He knows that with it, he can do far more than just walk. With it reshape the very matter of the world around him.

He ventures a quick look around, spying his cane a few yards away. He must have unintentionally thrust it away when he fell.

“Can somebody reach my cane?” he asks the strangers in the room, gesturing vaguely to where it lays on the dusty floor. “It seems it’s a bit beyond my reach.”

[Shady314]

Aura Assuming Pythias sees auras as color: Pythias sees a light blue halo behind Jack's head and eyes that glow bright green

Jack's eyes open at the noise around him. He is surprised to see it is still night. That doesn't seem right somehow. Shouldn't it be morning? he thinks. Should it? When was I supposed to wake up he wonders and tries to remember. All he gets is a blank slate. That's serious he thinks. Maybe head trauma? Where did that come from? Even his own thoughts seem like a stranger's to him.

Jack sits upright quickly from his prone position and takes stock of the situation. He feels his pulse and scans the room. He sees 5 others, one in fear and the other seeming to be in pain, and automatically begins taking stock of his health.

Second Sight as he scans the room
Instant, Prolonged, Covert
Second Sight Intelligence+Occult+Spirit 5d10

He immediately moves to his side to see if he can help and examines him with his Healer's Trance rote.

Extended, Concentration, Covert
Healer's Trance 1 Dot Intelligence+Medicine+Life 12d10 12d10

Storyteller is supposed to roll for Healer's Trance in case I missed something
but I rolled just in case you want me to.

Glancing at Pythias' he tells him. Just relax. You're going to be ok. Even as he says it he doesn't know exactly why he said that. It just rolled off his tongue. He doesn't bother to worry about it. He needs to help this man. See if you can find his cane.

[Shady314]

Seem to have messed up the rolls let's try that again.

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Hashmir]

Although Pythias was still confused and a little suspicious, the man really did appear to need some help. Shifting his focus to the bearded man, he moved to the indicated cane and brought it over. As he handed the item off, his eyes scanned the room frantically.

"Wha -- Er, where are we? Who are you? What's going on?"

Now, if I'm understanding "Duration: Concentration" correctly, I can simply shift focus to a certain person and the same spell will now work on them, right? Basically like the "Detect ____" spells from D&D 3.5?

[DJDizzy]

Second sight reveals nothing apart from your fellow mages.

Healers trance show that everyone is in perfect health apart from the man with the crippled legs.

[Shady314]

Jack looks at the man as he hands over the cane. It appears from your questions that you're suffering from some sort of retrograde amnesia. So am I. I'm going to guess everyone in this room here is. Where here is. Why? I don't know. There's no physical reason for our condition. Obviously I suspect it's magical in origin then.

Turning to the man lying on the floor I'm afraid you're physically disabled but I don't believe it's from any recent injury. None of us are injured so if someone means us harm they haven't done it yet. Or they healed us so they could do it over.

Jack helps the man to his feet. That note may have answers for us. He nods to the letter sitting on the table. I'll check on the others and try to wake them. Why don't you check that out.

[Ashbound Sage]

The bearded man accepts the help and cane graciously, nodding at the mention of the note. “Sounds reasonable. Seems a bit odd though, doesn’t it? Wipe us clean and leave us a note to follow?”

As the man with a red cross emblazoned on his shirt turns to check on the other inhabitants of the room, he grabs his arm to stop him. He hesitates for a moment before eyeing the room around them and saying, “Be on your toes. Someone’s holding rings for us to jump through. No good can come from this.”

He lets go of the other man’s arm and watches him walk over to the three that had not yet risen. He knew the guy had probably already hashed out the fact that this could only go one way, but the words he spoke had nothing to do with that element of their current situation. His true intentions were to instill a small sense of camaraderie between the others in the room. A well oiled machine works best, and by the looks of it he couldn’t afford for this loose collection of cogs to break down at any point on this dark and doomed road. If that’s not what happened already.

He turned his attention to the unassuming note and clapped the other conscious man on the shoulder and started limping towards the table. It wouldn’t do to leave pieces out of the machine. The man looks a good deal younger than him, but still capable. He’d seen that look many times before, though he couldn’t remember where. ‘Damn amnesia,’ he thinks.

His crippled leg burns as he takes his first step, but by putting most of his weight on the cane, he is able to continue walking with nothing more than a grimace and limp. Every step after seems to be a mite easier than the first as he falls into the ingrained unconscious routine of walking with a cane. “You coming, son,” he calls over his shoulder with as much cheer as he can muster “Doubt you’ll want to miss this.”

By the time he reaches the table the piercing knife stabs have become pins and needles, still painful but on a whole different level than before. He looks down at the letter, and tilts his head at the odd seal. ‘Might as well take the bait,’ he thinks as he picks up the letter, breaks the seal and reads the contents aloud to the other occupants in the room.

OOC: Sorry it's so long. I think it would be worth mentioning that I'm currently in college for an English degree. Writing is just one of those things I couldn't do without. :smallbiggrin:

[DJDizzy]

You feel a sense of dread as you pick up the letter, and your skin starts to get goosebumps.

Greetings mages. Since the dark ages we have been brooding, growing in power. We are more ancient, more ancient than magic presence in boston, older than even the archmagi of boston. One can not even begin to comprehend our power, and the power of the Sabbat. We are the heart of the Sabbat, and LaSombra are the soul. The flames of war will consume boston as Kindred and Awakened clash. While you rest comfortably in your cradle of power, be assured that it will not continue, you will be cast down and made slaves to our indomitable will. We are the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. Your worthless magic is nothing compared to us, the supernal is powerless to our advances. We will triumph over your consilium here in boston, and then the rest of the world. Deliver this message to your so called "leaders" and let the wrath of war begin. We are Clan Tzimisce and Clan LaSombra, and we reign supreme.

Alexander Scamont, Clan Tzimisce.

The ink looks like blood and is very bright red.
All of a sudden, one of the people lying on the floow begins to convulse.
Brian, you Healer's Trance shows that he is in cardiac arrest.

[Hashmir]

After the bearded man called to him, the young student began to move slowly towards the table. It seemed that no one present meant any harm, which was good -- certainly a handful of amnesiac allies was preferable to a room full of enemies. Of course, it also meant that whoever or whatever had wiped their memories and brought them here had the complete advantage.

That thought quickly put a damper on the vague relief he had felt for a moment. For that matter, who would even want them here, and why? Had they done something? Something that provoked revenge? If it was, why erase their memories, rather than just killing them?

He shook his head. Ugh. Too much he couldn't remember. In any case, he didn't feel like a bad person, so his captor must be in the wrong. Escaping this place came first.

As he neared the table, the bearded man picked up the letter. For a moment, he felt a chill, but before he could comment, one of the others began to spasm. His first instinct was to rush to the man's side, but he realized that he didn't even know what to do when he got there. Paralyzed, he began to search his brain for something, anything that would be helpful here.

[Shady314]

Brian looks at the spasming man and immediately sees through his rote that he's having a heart attack. He jumps over to his side and places two fingers firmly on his pulse and checks the patient's, which is how he automatically thinks of him now, breathing.

Brian attempts to determine both through his Healer's Trance and mundane skill if the person is suffering a myocardial infarction or sudden cardiac death.

Wits+Medicine? [roll0]

If the patient is dying (sudden arrest) Brian would attempt to use the Healing Heart rote to undo the damage before it kills him and clear the blockage or whatever the cause may be. If it's a myocardial infarction and he has a pulse but no breath he'll initiate rescue breathing. He'll start CPR if there's no pulse while urgently ordering someone to begin rescue breathing.

Dex+Med for CPR or Breathing [roll1]
Healing Heart Covert, Instant, Lasting Costs 1 mana [roll2]

Everyone stay calm! Someone see if they can reach 911. Does anyone have a phone? Telepathy? Something?

[DJDizzy]

He is suffering Myocardial Infarction, although it develops at an almost inhuman rate, as if something or someone had acted as a catalyst for rapid disease progression.