Dark Ages - Kiev IC

[dancrilis]

It was Tuesday night late in harvest season before the winter the rains had been bad for the last week, flooding some streets and disrupting the commerce in the city and they showed no signs of letting up some, some people would go hungry this year.

Avitan was in his study, it had been a poor night on both Monday and it was shaping up no better tonight, he was getting thirsty.
A knock on the door to the house brought him away from thoughts of hunger momentarily knowing that Gniewomir would answer it and attend to the (hopefully injured) party as needed and inform Avitan if he was needed.
The ghoul however knocked on the study door and entered before response, a well dressed man stepped past him who bowed low, "My lord, I am Sivilis vassel to Lady Mortina, herself honoured servant to the prince" he whispered the prince as if he did not want to think of his lady's lord "on behalf of her master she would like to invite you to attend mass within Saint Sophia Cathedral at midnight as Saturday turns to Sunday. This is of course an invitation however I would personally advise attendance as many of your peers will likely be in attendance", having said his piece he waits only long enough for courtesy before excusing himself for other pressing matters, leaving the floor a soggy mess where he had stood.

Gabriel was in the tavern listening to a series of unbelievable stories for a man how had obviously had to much to drink, stories about a series of caves under the city and the evil children within that had stolen his daughter, stories of the caves and the children within were common place over the last few weeks, likely simply children missing in the floods who there addled parents were over reacting to, panic built on panic after all. The door to the tavern swung open with a bang, and the man who entered seemed to have some issue closing it in the rain, he was well dressed and the water seemed to run off the well made cloths, he approached Gabriel cheerfully "Greetings my good man, I have not seen you in some time", leaning in close as if to be heard over the crowd and speak to an old friend, "Apologies for the informality my lord it is oft needed in mixed company, my name is Sivilis vassel to Lady Mortina, herself honoured servant to the", his voice dropping making it difficult to hear the next word, "I am to issue you an invite on her behalf as she herself acts on her master's, she would like to invite you to attend mass within Saint Sophia Cathedral at midnight as Saturday turns to Sunday. This is of course an invitation however I would personally advise attendance as many of your peers will likely be in attendance", it seemed he had memorised this last part. He seemed a bit concerned, "I must leave my lord, good fortune to you", with that he stood "blast my hide he stated loudly, you are correct thank you for reminding me", with that he left.

Elyzaveta was selling herbs out of her house per normal, they were getting harder to gather as the rains stripped much away but she still had a small supply, many people were not asking for cures but for any methods to ward off spirits which they were blaming for the rain. Late in the evening a man approached on his own, he was much better dressed then most people but was looking deeply tired. In a manner that Elizaveta was unused to he bowed low to her, "Lady Elizaveta I understand", he began, "my name is Sivilis vassel to Lady Mortina, herself honoured servant to the prince", his voice dropping making it difficult to hear the last word seemingly scared to utter it, "I am to issue you an invite on her behalf as she herself acts on her master's, she would like to invite you to attend mass within Saint Sophia Cathedral at midnight as Saturday turns to Sunday. This is of course merely an invitation however I would personally advise attendance as many of your peers will likely be in attendance", he finished a line he had obviously uttered a number of times that night, "I will take my leave of you now, I hope you have a more pleasant evening that I will".

Vicente was having a miserable night he was drenched to the bone, and could not shake the feeling of catching a cold despite the absurdity of it, so far tonight he had seen nothing even resembling a crime either, the streets were empty and he was sure that it he didn't leave for home soon he bay be forced to swim. And yet on inspection of the flooded street a man was approaching him, he was up to his knees in water and yet waded on eventually climbing the stairs and standing before Vicente, despite his condition he looked well dressed and well fed, and likely because of his condition he looks entirely miserable. Still he bowed low, and began to speak, "Vicente of Malagón I take it. My name is Sivilis vassel to Lady Mortina, herself honoured servant to the prince", he stumbles at the last word despite his immaculate pronunciation of all others, "I am to issue you an invite on her behalf as she herself acts on her master's, she would like to invite you to attend mass within Saint Sophia Cathedral at midnight as Saturday turns to Sunday. This is of course merely an invitation however I would personally advise attendance as many of your peers will likely be in attendance", he finished a line he had obviously uttered a number of times that night, "I will take my leave of you now, I hope you have a more pleasant evening that I will", he bowed again and began the track down and started wading again.

Iskah was having a rough week, the street children were disappearing and Yuri was going hungry, most places were closing early, and to top it off some of the more likely thieving places were clogged with water and as she had seen the rats were not afraid to try for some, walking up to her came a man in fine clothes that were no only drenched but also seemed shredded in places, he was bleeding from a number of small wounds that reminded her of the rats she had just considered. Since becoming what she was they fled her presence rather then attack which was at least one benefit, figuring that he might have some coin she approached but before she could speak he began, "My lady Iskah, if I am not mistaken" he smiled "I am glad to make your acquaintance, I would beg a moment of your time", he produced a small bag from the underside of his garment containing some money and food, "My name is Sivilis vassel to Lady Mortina, herself honoured servant to the prince", the last word clearly scared him, "I am to issue you an invite on her behalf as she herself acts on her master's, she would like to invite you to attend mass within Saint Sophia Cathedral at midnight as Saturday turns to Sunday. This is of course merely an invitation however I would personally advise attendance as many of your peers will likely be in attendance", he finished a line he had obviously uttered a number of times that night, "My lady would also like me to express her respect for your survival and character within this difficult time and hopes you and her can be friends, she sees the potential of good things in your future", bowing low, "Regardless I have a number of other people to see tonight, I bid you farewell", leaving the poach he began walking off.

[JonRG]

Vicente nodded his head politely at the messenger. "You serve your mistress well, vassal. Inform Lady Mortina that I will be there. May the Lord watch over you this night." While he did not wish to forgo his own weekly Mass, a neonate could not afford to miss this opportunity to meet fellow Kindred. Vicente would not last long in Kiev without allies...

Vic will head back to his haven after finishing his shift, then go through his normal weekly schedule (Wednesday: Hunt/Patrol Thursday: Guard Duty Friday: Hunt/Patrol). If anyone local he trusts might know of Lady Mortina, he'd ask them for some information. Otherwise, he'll keep his eyes open and his sword sharp. :smallamused:

[Worlok]

"The... The Prince?" The twin troubles of having to feed and not having much in the way of work confuddling the intrepid vampire medician, he failed to even answer as the vassal took his leave. "Then I guess I know what I will have to do on Saturday... Gniewomir, clean the mess up, I think we can close down for today, too. The Prince!" Staring at the mud and water on the carpet, he found the old familiar sting of his compulsion acting up. "No, no, not the Prince. The Lady Mortina. Oh Radomir, friend Radomir, why did you never tell me who's important in this place?" Trying to force himself to ignore the stain in front of him, Avitan rambled on for quite some time, all the while scratching himself as if feeling a persistent itch. "Maybe he did? Maybe we have some notes on this?" Or maybe he didn't, we don't have notes on it, and our dear sire thinks this is the sort of thing that sires do? Leaving me hanging? Complications, social contacts, all that added work! Confound it all, he could be reading corpses, but instead he was still standing here, frightened by mudstains, waiting for the clean-up to begin and likely looking every bit as hungry as he felt tonight. "I will look in on our unresponsives. Possibly go out. You know the drill, should someone knock, you let them in, I shouldn't be gone for long." And with that, Avitan Henke, second son of a hangman and feeling it, eventually resolved to descend the stairs to the basement and the room in which the most moribund hopeless cases were (to be) contained. Now, very recently, the daughter of a miller from one of the nearby townsteads had been delivered into the surgeons' (no, surgeon's) tender care, a sad case, unable to move or talk after a bad fall from up on high, yet apparently fully awake and alert in there. He remembered feeling queamish at the thought of feeding upon her, yet it would possibly be his best choice right now - provided she had survived the day, and Gniewomir had not signed otherwise... Pausing as if to catch his now non-existant breath, he made to compose himself before softly, slowly, and carefully opening the door.

[Thundercracker]

Gabriel
Gabriel nods to the vassal politely before turning back to the storyteller to determine whether he'd picked up on anything that was said. He had never been invited to see the prince before, in fact, he knew nearly none of the others like himself in the city. Gabriel turned the thought of the invitation over in his mind a few times as he absently ordered the man another drink. On the face, it seemed like it might be a waste of time at best, and potentially dangerous at worst. On the other... perhaps other Kindred would share his tastes. Of course it would be impossible to fill the void left by Delia's disappearance, but perhaps some companionship, true companionship, he thought as the man in front of him belched loudly, would do him well. He decided to attend and turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

[daelrog]

Iskah's eyes were wide as the strange, strange rich man spoke to her. Her jaw even felt a weak as her mouth almost dropped. "Umm... farewell?" It was not that she was slow. The problem was her mind was moving too fast. Five different possibilities jumped to her mind.

1) He wants to rape and kill me
2) He's an angel
3) He works for the monster who is coming after me again
4) This is a dream
5) He is playing an noble's game of philanthropy

More ideas came to mind, and her nails started digging into her thin, pale arm.

"Sister, please. Who was that man?" Yuri held onto her elbow. They weren't brother and sister, but it's what he called her.

"I... think he came to answer what I've become?"

"Can... he remove the demon?"

"I don't know. He did invite me to a cathedral." She showed him the food and money. As Yuri ate, she looked at the empty space where Sivilis had stood. No, he was clearly not looking to exorcise her. He thought her curse a good thing, and so did this woman who wanted to be her friend. She lost her faith in God in long ago, but then again so too had she decided that the only true monsters were men. She shook her head. She would be there. She needed answers.

[McStabbington]

Elyzaveta found her jaw hanging open and momentarily focused on closing it as she worked for a proper response. "I . . . thank you", she started, before regaining her faculties sufficiently to continue. "Saturday and Sunday, you say? That is a difficult time, as I sell my herbs on Saturday night and observe the Sabbath on Sunday. Nevertheless, I will see what can be done. Perhaps I shall attend." She nodded to the man as he left.

After he left, she took a brief respite in her chair to ponder her next move. That she would attend was certain. She was aware that there was a prince among the undead in Kiev; she had once been briefly hailed by another vampire while walking home, and he had mentioned the prince in passing. She hadn't been much for conversation, and after realizing who she was, he had broken off the conversation abruptly. But beyond that, she knew little of the undead, and most of what she did know had come from exploring her own abilities. Further, she knew nothing of their society and their rules. This would be a prime chance to learn. She steepled her fingers and pondered her next move.

Clearly, she had made a good call by being polite but cautious. She considered whether she needed to put out word that she would be breaking off her work early on Saturday. She decided against it; business was slowing anyway, and it was always slow when the eve got late on Saturday. She guessed that she would have few if any customers, and she could just put out the sign that her son had made for her that said she was out gathering herbs. Nodding to herself, she left her chair and began dicing some of her herbs.

[Worlok]

... only to find that the room was empty. The old, straw-filled matresses haphazardly strewn about the otherwise fairly immaculate, if dusty room seemed to indicate that there had not been anyone in here in a looong time. "Most curious. Either Gniewomir had a lot of time while cleaning the house this morning, or I'm officially seeing things." Would not be the first time, nor the last. Was he not, in fact, given to nightmares most terrible? His thrice-accursed eidetic memory oftentimes would deliver him with unnerving scenes and ideas for weeks on end, piling on more and more of them with every passing day and hour he foolishly spent asleep.

This was among the reasons he was happy for the servitude of Gniewomir: When, upon the rising of the sun, Avitan would resolve to rest his head, it was the elderly ghoul's prime and most urgent duty to bind his own junior-master with a heavy iron collar and a chain, for in the throes of his strange malady, he would thrash and mewl like a wounded kitten, or shout and scream in dreamt-up terrors, not to awaken, but likewise somnambulise in an oftentimes helpless and panicky way. What with him being a heavy sleeper, this kind of scene could continue for long, long periods of time, even over the course of falling down stairs in imagined self-defense, draining one of the basement-locked patients dry or crashing into a wall while pouncing on unbodied enemies - unless of cause, he was kept well in iron, and a bucket of cold water and a fix of freshly-let ones was applied before he was let out.

So it was every sundown, and so it had been this day, if luckily the poor dream-bound vampire had succeeded in getting a hold on himself before very long. Only to now find it fading. He needed blood, and he would need it soon, before the hunger got a better grasp. And he thus walked up the stairs again, past a coat-hanger with no coats on it and a fireplace without even wood inside, past what had been a kitchen a long time ago and now served as a storeroom, past an elderly ghoul that had just finished locking the "Go away, noone's here!"-signs into the windows surrounding the door, and past the door itself, out into night and pouring rain. He had no need of a raincoat or similar, seeing how he was dead, yet he had had the foresight to wrap a scarf around his neck and bring his thick, brown sheep fur cloak, for he was loath to feel the full force of cold weather, and felt naught but hatred for strong wind. The fact it kept his cover merely added to the benefits.

"Gniewomir! Light a fire and close the hatch before I get back, I would rather not return to a cooled-out hearth." He didn't expect an answer, nor get one. Gniewomir typically did as told, unless somehow kept from doing so by vicious circumstance, because he, too, desired blood, if not that of a mortal, obviously.

Yet as one might well have expected in a night like this, there was quite precious little traffic. Not a cart to meet the eye, and other than the plight of poor Sivilis, noone seemed to have any occasion to be about. All the better. They'd catch the cough, and I'd be mixing tinctures for the next three weeks, a most curmudgeonly and grumpy side of his threw out, yet he would have to seek out nourishment, and hence the circumstances almost made him wish they would. Mumbling under what had been his (real) breath a long-ish time ago, the Town Medician of Kiev was on the hunt, and as the shepard of his patients knew full well that there was a great benefit in seeing to the health and safety of his stock. And yet, he strode with a certain air of purpose. He knew his places, after all.

[JonRG]

Vicente clambered back up the street to his post, soaked to the skin. An armored figure peered at him from atop the rampart. He was a portly kine, one that made any good man ashamed to call himself a noble. "Viktor!" he bellowed. Still not my name. "What did that guy want?"

"Nothing, Maxim," he lied. "Just another lost soul."

"Dunno why you're sloggin' around out there. It's not your job." That was the world Maxim lived in. Do only what was required, and live well off the spoils. It disgusted Vicente, even in his undead state. Sofiya had suggested killing the fat bastard, but his sire solved the majority of her problems in that way. He took a deep (unnecessary) breath, and steeled his resolve. No, Maxim's death would raise too many questions.

That and murder was wrong... A worried Vicente frowned into the darkness, until he saw a small figure stumble out of it. The creature was sickly pale, bundled in furs, and topped with a ridiculous hat. A curious man, but one that he knew. Vicente stood up from his leaning position against the wall.

"Vik! Where ya goin'?" Maxim bellowed.

Vicente ignored him and clanked down the stairs, towards the smaller vampire. His hand rested on the hilt of his longsword. "Avitan," he muttered, only loud enough for Kindred ears to hear, "What in God's name brings you out on a night like this?"

[Worlok]

The voice seemed familiar. Adjusting his not-at-all ridiculous, but magnificently green and previously even more prestigious hat (Which Radomir, his sire, always called a "phrygian cap" - to Avitan, it was basically just an earwarmer since the pheasant feather that had once adorned it had gotten lost, but he certainly wouldn't mention that), soaked as it already was, and pulling the rather less pleasant-looking sheep fur hood (which had been fashioned out of the leather and hair of the head and the upper neck, and now still looked the part) up to cover it on a sudden hunch, what looked like the Town Medic wearing a green-eyed ewe looked up to meet the eyes of the Spaniard - Vicente, wasn't it? Why was he good with faces, but so bad with names? - and respond, likewise at vampire volume: "My work, Sir Vicente. I, as a surgeon, have blood to let, teeth to clean and some wounds to lick - and in the pursuit of my art and craft, no weather can be too forbidding. I am quite certain you understand." While he was not the most skilled or adept talker, unless shedding light on a subject related to medicine that is, he was readily proud of what wits he had, and couldn't even say that without smirking halfway through and on. Still, his inhibitions showing, he found himself strictly adhering to what he had for etiquette. "Though I might question likewise, if you would. Dear duties, I presume?"

[JonRG]

Vicente chuckled. "Yes, but my company leaves something to be desired." His gaze flicked furtively between Avitan and Maxim. How easy would it be to feed the latter to the former? No. The nobleman was a lout, but sloth ranked rather low on the deadly sins. At the same time... there was a ravenous glint in the alchemist's eyes. If he didn't do something, the good Christians of Kiev would be endangered. "You look hungry. I feel remiss leaving you alone in such a state. Just one moment." Vicente cupped his hands and bellowed over the downpour, "Maxim! The good doctor requires my assistance! Stay dry and keep watch until I return!" He might have seen Maxim wave, but it mattered little. Vicente outranked the fat bastard. "Come, brother," he muttered at Kindred volume. "Let us find you a meal."

[Worlok]

Avitan found himself surprised, which was a sensation even he hadn't yet gotten used to entirely: What a most sudden change in circumstance! Vicente's kindness was unexpected, yet obviously a welcome turn of events. And he had called him "the good doctor", and by his complaint about the fat man's - Maxim? Maximus? Certainly large enough for that. - company implied that his meant better one. A double compliment. I like this guy. Thus were his thoughts, and hence his reply: "Why, gladly. Lead the way!"

On one of his better nights, and with a tad more blood in, he might have made use of what his sire had considered his prodigial talent and his "strongest discipline" - namely, the kindred ability of auspicious perception, which in his case extended so far as to let him read the subconscious aurae surrounding kindred and kine alike and divine their thoughts and designs from that. However, it was not the best of nights, and the notion of sustenance held his mind preoccupied - Much as good Radomir loved to point out that "genius shines brightest when left alone", Avitan enjoyed postulating that "sometimes, however, cooperation helps light the way"; and this guy, Vicente? Well, at the very least, he was a warrior, and a capable one by the looks of him. To stay in his good graces would have benefits, and to be hunting alongside the man would increase the chances of a success.

Expectantly grinning to himself, he made to follow the knight along.

[JonRG]

Vicente thought a prayer of thanks while walking down the flooded streets. He hadn't fully expected Avitan to accept his offer. The last few months made him feel no less out of his depth in Kindred society. Hopefully, Saint Sophia would rectify that. Vicente bristled at his sire's name, and again when he realized where his feet were taking them. The brothel... Of late, Sofiya had been trying to coax Vicente back into her bed. She had seduced him that very first night, awash with the ecstasy of blood. Their interaction had been awkward ever since, for him at least. In penance (or was it retaliation?), Vicente had found himself regularly targeting sexual miscreants for his thrice-weekly feeds. Although... Only the most desperate kine would brave this weather for a whore, and those sorts could be rife with venereal disease. He abruptly changed course to one of the wealthier districts, glancing back to make sure he had not lost Avitan. Vicente had heard tell of a second-story man who had burgled several noble homes in recent nights. With families huddled by their fires, this would be the perfect opportunity to rob them blind. Vicente smirked to himself in the darkness, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.

[Worlok]

When noticing exactly where the two of them were headed, Avitan gave pause: The brothel? He's one of those that likes some entertainment with his supper, possibly? His thoughts had always sounded far more callous than he wanted them to sound, and than they were. He, personally, blamed the ravishes of the disease from out of which he'd been delivered by embrace, and the fact that his first night in darkness had ultimately culminated in his feeding frenzy emptying what had remained of an old village tavern full of plague victims. The scene of his awakening, still covered in and bloated on the blood of the unfortunate, still half-delirious from his fever dreams, and with the first conscious sight of his unlife being his sire's harsh, hawk-like face and figure, had firmly etched itself into his mind, to bookend many a horrible nightmare to come. None could say that kind of circumstances wouldn't harden mind and soul alike, or could they, now? No? Thought so. Moving on.

He wouldn't have minded a visit, for it would not have been his first one. While he had never been a patron as such, it was amazing what kinds of disease and wound could appear in the cause of the oldest profession, and those that would have of its services. As if I really would- Let's not get into that. Anyway, the corpses of prostitutes, drunkards and layabouts were only rarely missed and the not-so-callous-as-he-sounded undead virgin was not quite above indulging the more self-depreciating type of wisdom, after all. But at any rate, by now he had slowed down a little, finding that Vicente had changed his course, and hurried up to catch up with him. Why, am I imagining things, or did he just change his plan of action? It would have appeared we were actually headed... there... But then again, it is hardly the right kind of night for that.

This was rather the type of night in which one would be about with a shovel, a sharpened spade the likes of which readily slip underneath coffin lids and act as levers.

The type of night to make use of the knowledge of death-bound professions, as a headsman, as an undertaker, as a medicus, to cut insights out of the corpses of the passed, away from prying eyes.

This was the type of night in which a younger Avitan, wearing his coat and holding on to his father's crude linen mantle, would have been underway to the graveyards of that poor damned town in Saxony, to fend off starvation for one more night, by utilising those it had taken the one before.

It was, in short, the kind of night in which research was to be done, and business fair conducted, and even though the presence of the Spanish man put him at ease, he conspired to keep an eye and an ear out for anything out of the ordinary as well. All things considered, it IS that kind of night, and my sort of business is hardly the only one here that could use the occasional chance for a boost.

[dancrilis]

The night was getting worse rather then better most people of sense were indoors safe and as dry as there homes would allow, but some people simple had no sense or no homes, as Vicente and Avitan moved on there heard a scream from down an alleyway, it was sharp and cut short after it started.

Common wisdom was not to wander down dark alleys, and these days with talk of curses and sin causing the weather, it would be surprising to even find a brave drunk urinating down one, preferring the street, but let the scream was certainly present though who would have been daft enough to be in a position to make it was unknown.

[Worlok]

Avitan disliked screams. You would lose yourself in the manifold particles of the world around you, scanning with Cainite perceptiveness and precision every last drop of rain, every last buzz of a fly's wing, and every last breath of your prey... And somehow, somewhere, obviously somebody would scream, sending a shock right down your no longer nervally active spine and making your ears ring with what was mighty and oppressive like an echo on the chasms of the Alps. But anyway... "Sir Vicente?" Don't need to ask. He couldn't not have heard that scream. Stopping himself short before uttering what might be misconstrued as an insult, the good doctor merely spared his companion a glance in between rubbing the parts of the hood's fur around his ears that had not shielded them, and frantically looking every which way for the source of the noise.

The catch to auspicious perception, my childe, is the attunement you undergo in it - You might hear a conversation that's being whispered twelve yards away, but if one of the speakers coughs, it's a headache coming. Practice, and eventually you will be able to expect such things. And prevent them, too. For now, stop that twitching and try to concentrate. So he did, following his most sagely sire's advice, and only the fact that his ability to focus was among the best ones he had met delivered him from what could otherwise have been an ongoing distraction.

[JonRG]

Vicente drew his sword almost reflexively. Short cries boded ill for those that made them. It was likely already too late. Avitan's address cut through his self-doubt. Our Father watches over the flock. The man will be saved, if that is His will. If nothing else, the perpetrator will be judged. "Let's go." Vicente dashed into the alley, feeling the unholy strength flow through his lifeless veins.

Read up on how Potence works in V:DA and it seems to be passive. So I am ready to rock some ne'er-do-well face. :smallamused:

[Worlok]

That was all the direction he'd need in this. "Coming." Short cry. Prolly already dead. At any rate in need of medical attention. Will require aid, in case of murder, perpetrator may already have escaped. Lucky, all things considered. For it was, after all, the Art of the Cappadocian, as Radomir had phrased it, to wrest truths and information from the dead in case of need or interest, and as such, they'd either have a witness - who would also be a patient full with at least some of that delicious blood he craved - or a better witness, one that at once meant a good reason and an opportunity for practice on the medic's part.

He did disdain the notion of intentional, willing murder. But in the end, a death was a death, and his specific talents made him supernaturally capable of helping justice to be served. Business as usual, and a chance to be useful. And blood. Seems I got my windfall. Still, a shame that someone'd have to die for it. And sounded callous again, but meant it, and found it hard to keep up with the guardsman, but did.

[McStabbington]

Elyzaveta took a seat in her rocking chair by the hearth. Almost immediately, she rose again. In her first life, Elyzaveta had taken quiet comfort in the howling wind and lashing rain; it made her snug little cottage feel even more comfortable. Now . . . she felt confined. Trapped. She forced herself to sit again and gaze into the fire.

It was her last visitor, she knew. In spite of her official change, she spent most of her time following the pattern of her old life as closely as possible. She could do things now that she couldn't before, and she couldn't do some things that she used to enjoy, but that didn't stop her from acting as much like her old self as possible. And once in a while, when she was dicing herbs or looking over a patient, she even thought of herself as human. But then she'd feel the pounding of the blood through the vessels of a patient from across the room. Or catch her mouth watering at the smell of a child she'd just delivered. She had of course never indulged, and had taken care to keep herself well-fed to prevent herself from murdering. But the sad truth is that no matter how human she tried to be, there was something else in her as well. Something that reminded her, to her horror, of that monstrous ravening creature.

And now others like that . . . thing were asking for her to join them. Never, she thought to herself. She may be have the same parts as they did, but she could choose to do differently. She just needed some air to clear her head. Rising from her chair, she padded over to the herbs she'd diced and re-diced, and neatly packaged them in some of her earthen jars. The fire in the hearth had burned low; it would be out by the time she'd be back. Putting on her boots and heaviest cloak, she grabbed her walking stick and stepped outside. The wind and rain made no impact on her any more, but she must look the part. Closing the door, she made for the postern gate in the city walls to the south.

[dancrilis]

The man beside Gabriel continued rambling about the the children, but be looked at Gabriel after a while, "You think I am drunk and mad, I am drunk, but I wasn't at the start of the week ... I had not drank in years ... needed <hic> money for my daughters wedding, didn't I", his eyes grew wide, "It was small, and bald, and it had sharp teeth, dripping with slime ... and it grabbed her and took her like she weighed nothing ... and it looked at me", tears forming in his eyes, "it looked at me and it smiled ... and laughed", he grabbed Gabriel's shoulder, "not laughed, gurgled ... like a baby gurgles", he let go and began sobbing uncontrollably "and everyone thinks I am mad or cursed" he was barely audible through his crying, "and so I drink".

Vicente and Avitan rounded a corner, Avitan hearing unclear sounds before they were fully around it, there was nothing there immediately obvious other then some street refuse. But walking down both could smell something, blood, fresh and spilled thought where it was coming from seemed to have been caught in the rains with the filth causing an obstruction which the water flowed around but leaving no clear sign as to what it was.

As Elyzaveta walked she noticed that the rain was heavier then it had been for some time, but also that even given this the streets were empty, normally drunks and street urchins would be forced to sleep out in this area ... tonight there were none, likely gone to beg shelter in the church, but if that was the case then the Kindred would have a harder time feeding at will going forward.

[McStabbington]

Elyzaveta walked slowly, stick clacking against the ground rhythmically as the rain pattered around her. She noted the absence of people, and considered them fortunate. If they've made the Churches their sanctuary, they should be safe for the nonce.

She had entered the town without any clear plan where she was going. As she walked, the dull cold feel of wet cloth against her skin made her consider where she should head. Ordinarily, she would head into town only once a week, and that was to one of several inns to talk to the locals and casually drum up a bit of interest in her wares. Still, there were several inns she rarely if ever visited; mostly along the docks. The people there were mostly transient river workers. Still, some new company and new stories might set her at ease. Turning herself, she set off towards the docks.

[Thundercracker]

Gabriel
"I'll listen to your stories old man," he said, producing a coin and nodding to the bartender for another drink, "when did this happen? Here, next round's on me..."

[JonRG]

Vicente

His hackles rose as the smell of blood grew stronger. The waters slowed to a trickle as he approached the corpse. It could only be a corpse by now. Vicente sighed. At least Avitan could eat without without any more death tonight.

That would be reserved for the murderer when he was found.

[daelrog]

Iskah tossed the dead rat into the water, watching as it floated away.

"Iskah, they've taken all the good spots." Yuri rubbed a small bite on his arm.

Iskah sighed from habit. The rats were too many to bother with. They'd probably have to find someone's home to steal a room in. "Come, let's find Dolph. See if he has any good ideas to steal away from the rain.

Dolph was one of her two main contacts, a tweleve-year-old boy who ran a small gang of street urchins. Tall for his age, and strong too, he was the alpha of the outcasts.

[Worlok]

"Well... That's a problem." The blood, the blood, it smelled so nice; the waste, the waste, it stank so horribly. "We've likely got a corpse, yet not a murderer. We do, however, have means to rectify..." He's a knight. He won't be on board with this art of mine. "Nevermind." Slowly, cautiously, Avitan approached what was likely a corpse, and prolly but comatose, and ultimately edible in either case. "Let's simply take a look at that."

[dancrilis]

Elyzaveta trip to the docks was uneventful, the night patrols would likely still be out tonight but they would stay in the good areas, and that docks were not for the most part considered good, the inns were rough fights were frequent - thought murder was rare - likely thanks to a series of rules that one of the more serious and dangerous landlords had about interrupting the dock work.

The man turned to Gabriel and slurred, "I have told you more then most would listen to, I won't burden you for coin too ... I am a working man and no begger", despite his voice the way he said working man had a hint of pride and made it clear that it was to one element of himself he valued now, a hold on for him. "It was friday ... or thursday ... or I don't know anymore".

As Vicente and Avitan approached what became obvious was a body it became clear that this was no ordinary murder, it was something truly horrific, the body was that of a girl in her mid to late teens and she had been ripped open at the stomach by something strong and fast, she had the appearance of being a plump girl from the folds of skin visible, but Avitan noticed that they was not enough flesh for that ... the girl had likely been heavily pregnant possible even late in delivering, of the baby or the assailant there was no sign.

Iskah approached Dolph's hideout to find it in more disarray then normal, the kids were scared and hungry, and there were younger children crying and older ones fighting over rat scraps, Dolph himself was larger then most and appeared well fed he shouted to be heard over the rain but it was a strain for him "He said he would make it easier for us if we helped him, so we should have food tonight, later tonight, just calm down", but he was obviously losing the battle against fear and anger.

[Worlok]

There was a short silence on Avitan's part, both to honor the dead and to get over the grisly scene's impression. Then... "Oh good lord. So much for my appetite." It was the first thing he could come up with, wondering once again at just how much of an asshat he actually was. All the more since it actually didn't do much to hamper his appetite. Quite the opposite, in fact, as among the first things you learn growing up with rampant starvation is that nothing that fresh is to be discarded, and even cooling blood is most definitely still halfway full of nutrients... Still, what a horrible thing for one to think. "I... I don't know. Sir Vicente? There would not appear to be much of a trace of either the... well, the murderer... or..." Better I tell him. I am the healer, here, and chances are he already noticed, at any rate. "The baby. She had inside of her. She was pregnant, possibly even long overdue. Eighth month. Tenth, perhaps. Likely ninth." And now I'm rambling again. Competence, Avitan, competence. "So, what I mean, is, maybe we should carry her to my study, so I can... Well..." Calm down. This is your job. You have done things like this before. And it would also be an act of crudity, to have a formidably useful body go to waste out here. The blood is likely already all watered-down. "Prepare the body for burial. Maybe..." And here he switched to Kindred volume once again. "Maybe, perhaps, even feed, you see? It is kind of unlikely that she would mind, and I may find a trace of... whoever was responsible for this. Look around. Perhaps there's a weapon somewhere. A knife. Or a sword." Or what would appear to be a remarkably precise trained combat-lion. Drat.

Say, dan, would it be too late to relocate my one dot Fortitude to a third dot Auspex? I only recently realised that you aren't even expected to activate all of your clan disciplines on write-up. :smallredface:

[JonRG]

Vicente stared at the corpse in silence, trying to restrain his fury. "What kind of monster would do this? Where was her family, that she needed to be here at all?" Women with child were to be cared for, revered even. She could have conceived out of wedlock, but that shouldn't matter. If Marina had- "They look so much alike... Enough. Kiev already has one bloodthirsty killer on the loose. It does not need a second."

He answered in a slow, steely tone, "No. There is no time. You must feed here." Vicente cast an eye about the alley in search of a weapon. In this filth, it would be a difficult find. Even worse, sewage would trigger Avitan's neurosis about cleanliness. But the killer was escaping with- "The child... Avitan!" Vicente turned to the alchemist. "Given some blood, could you find her child's scent? Blood will wash away quickly, but the killer may have wanted this infant alive."

[Worlok]

... Oh. "Well... It... is worth a try." Rather quite likely, actually. You can always get rid of a child later, and if that's what they want, there probably is some sort of trade involved. Maybe slavers? Bandits? Anyone who could not afford to have a pregnant woman around, at any rate. Still not the most sensible solution, I would say. "But... here?" He wearily eyed at the dead girl, seeking for some sort of solution - How to feed on an uncleaned corpse in the middle of the pouring rain amidst this filth and offal? How to make sure that the blood is pure? Edible? Tasty, even? Oh, how to avoid it staining lips and clothes? How to not get mud into my mouth? With the number of fears and phobias running rampant within him, it would not have surprised him in the least had he just found himself locked into place, helplessly muttering and shaking for a good long while. What -did- surprise him was that it did -not- come about as such, and that the urgency in the Brujah's voice actually managed to cut through his pained deliberations and get him back on track in time. Still... If I were to actually -find- a sickness that can cut us Kindred down, and this would be how I accomplish it... No! Stop! Hold it! Focus! You need blood, you need it now, and you are needed. Do as he told you, it should be alright. "I'll try. But see if you can't find a weapon or somesuch, we can just clean it and I'll take a look. In any case, if you could excuse me for but one second and look the other way...?" Having already knelt down to raise the maltreated corpse onto his hands and knees much as if he were to carry an unconscious girl, not a dead one, yet with a reverance one would more readily expect in a bridesgroom carrying his newlywed beloved through the door to their abode, he lowered his head to establish eye contact with the body. This already cost him a good show of will, as it ran so very opposite to what he'd normally have done. Good thing she's dead, at least. To think, me touching someone living - holding someone living in my arms! Now, focus, Avi, one quick bite, and a drink, and then- then it will- Could he do it? He had to! Was Vicente looking away? And most importantly - yet this was paranoia speaking - was she actually dead? Looking at Vicente, he instinctively, if against his better judgment, began to feel for a pulse. Ridiculous. Important. Any escape from this mud. Awkward, confused, and wimpy Avitan battled himself, fangs already descending, but unwilling to touch flesh. If I at least had the tools for a bloodletting here. The very lack of grace about it all!

Should I roll anything for pulse detection, forcing himself to drink directly from a body, or not freaking out from kneeling in dirt above a corpse? :smallredface:

[JonRG]

Vicente looks away from Avitan, casting his gaze about in search of a knife, a sword, anything out of place. Though, if the killer were a monster - "Like you," his conscience nagged - then there may not be a weapon to find.

[McStabbington]

Elizaveta halted her advance and peered around. Seeing no one, she drifted right into the shadows and began to circle the building. It was a longshot with the inns being mostly for the dockworkers, but even a horse or two to draw a bit of blood from when she left later tonight would help to keep her warm as she went home and in control tomorrow when she came back to town. Not for the first time, she silently cursed the fact that not only had that . . . thing cursed her with this unending bloodlust, but he hadn't hadn't told her anything about how to live as such a creature. As a result, most of her old chickens had died from the wounds she'd inflicted before she'd realized that she could close them up. Had she still had her chickens, this nightly feeding would be so much safer. . .

But alas, there was no food to be had outside this inn. Sighing softly, she resumed the soft clacking of the walking stick on the ground as she returned to her usual gait. She went to the door, pulled it open, and went in.

As her eyes adjusted to the interior light, she clacked slowly and carefully to the bar. Time to see if I can drum up a customer, she thought to herself. She waited until the bartender moved to her, and then spoke gently and with as much warmth as she could muster.

"Evening my good man. I would ask a cup of your thinnest mead and a seat by the fire for an hour or two to rest my old bones. In exchange, I will give you one of two things. There is the charm I've made to ward off evil spirits," drawing out the charm bag and laying it flat on the bar for him to touch and hold as he chose. Elizaveta knew from long experience that most people instinctively distrusted such charms as black magic, but once they held the bag and realized it had no more than simple plants and herbs inside, they tended to lose their fear. "Or you may come to my house outside the north wall one night and I will heal one ailment of your choice."

dan:

My guess is that this is a Manipulation + Subterfuge roll, since I'm not in the slightest interested in his alcohol but I'm keenly interested in an innkeeper/barkeep knowing where to find a quality doctor. None of us have rolled yet, so I don't know how you want to do it, so I'll just roll here and, if believe some other skill combo is more appropriate, I'll reroll in the OOC thread.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

[roll6]
[roll7]

[Thundercracker]

Gabriel
"Very well," Gabriel says, putting away his coin, "we shall split the tab, as requested, but I would not be denied my drink."

He takes a large swig of the mug as it arrives.

"Yours is not the first tale of children living in caves beneath the city, nor is yours the only loved one lost," he continues, "pray tell me, did you see the attack with your own eyes?"

[daelrog]

Iskah approached Dolph confidently. "Dolph, what scheme are you up to this time? Who's offering food to a bunch of street children? I hope no one was hurt to get it."

She liked Dolph, but he didn't seem very smart to her. Then again, no one really did. She didn't understand why people were so easily fooled. It was bad enough she was poor and weak in body, but at least she understood when she was being taken advantage of on the streets. Sometimes it was worth three hours work for a moldy peice of bread, other times...

As she nared him her voice was quieter so others wouldn't here. "Who promised to bring food to you in this rain?"

[dancrilis]

Say, dan, would it be too late to relocate my one dot Fortitude to a third dot Auspex? I only recently realised that you aren't even expected to activate all of your clan disciplines on write-up. :smallredface:

Should I roll anything for pulse detection, forcing himself to drink directly from a body, or not freaking out from kneeling in dirt above a corpse? :smallredface:



On the first I would prefer against it, on the second I am happy with the roleplaying so no need, but you can if you like.

Vicente noticed no weapons in the immediate area.

As Elizaveta spoke to the man he eyed her mistrustfully, but took the bag all the same, "You can stay, but don't cause a fuss", leaning in "there are strange goings on and I want no part of them" he whispered clutching the bag.

The man Gabriel spoke to looked at him and muttered almost to himself, "I told you that I did", it was clear that he had to much drink at the moment.

"Iskah", Dolph looked happy to see her, "you are looking well, and I have work for you if you need it", he moved away from the others to a darkened corner, "don't know who they are some lord or lady maybe", smiling "rich enough to provide anyway", his smile growing wider "and all they want is for us find pregnant woman outside wedlock so they can assist them to", laughing now "can you believe that they have nothing better to do with their money then help others", with a wink that indicated he felt he was very smart and clever "we found three this week, and that should feed us for this and next".
Yuri looked somewhat apprehensive but asked "will you share?", Dolph's smile was almost patronising "sure, if you will help", turning back to Iskah "so what do you think?" both asked.

[daelrog]

Iskah frowned at the explanation. First of all, how sad was it that she was dead, she had figured that much out, yet still she looked better than most of them. How close to death did that make them? Secondly, it was not so much that Dolph's story sounded strange, which it did, but Iskah did not believe in the kindness of others.

"I think I'll go speak to this Lord and Lady and find out why they haven't paid." She took note of the heay sound of the rain. "If their genoristy is stopped by the weather, I'll be more than happy be a courier."

[Worlok]

Now quite certain that the girl was dead, Avitan swiftly made to drain her of his share, all the while imagining the crawling horrors in the mud, and how it would but take one unlucky coincidence to see his work, his death and what amounted to what promise he might have undone.

It was only then that he adressed his companion again: "Sir Vicente, I might try it now. Shall I begin?"

So, intending to use Heightened Senses on command.

Also, it's okay, I can always try and earn 'em dots for it.

[JonRG]

"Nothing. Likely a monster to blame, then." That made their tracking all the more critical. Vicente gave his companion a sharp nod. "Yes," he replied. "I am ready."

[Worlok]

"Very well. Silencio." Standing up after ceremoniously, reverently bedding the dead woman onto the ground again, the physician gestured dramatically, gaining his focus, and had the blood now coursing through his veins do what it did.

Almost immediately, the ongoing rhythm of the pouring rain grew louder, more agressive, as if a million men on horseback were currently passing through, and he had to close his eyes so as to not be overwhelmed by the sudden upsurge in clarity that would have taken hold of him otherwise. Yet in the dark, another way of vision came to light: A strange reflection of, and somehow on reality, bright shapes and ghostly forms and hints at truths and news yet far away seeking to emulate the actual and physically present world surrounding him. This was the typically hidden realm of the scent, and with what amounted to hunter's instincts even in his less-than-close-to-half-impressive self, Avitan made to blindly, yet unblindedly, seek out what tracks their quarry might have, must have left, skimmed over and bypassed the omnipresent, gray and neutrally oppressive airs of water and cold wind, and the stench of the earth and the rot beneath, thus to find...

Yes. What? He drank to as full as possible, then activated the Heightened Senses - Any trail of our suspected murderer? :smallsmile:

[McStabbington]

Elyzaveta frowned to herself, and made to ask what the man meant, but stopped herself. The man doesn't trust me, so it's better to give him time to open up about it. Instead, she feigned misunderstanding: "Aye, tis a troubled fall and no doubt. But the only trouble I bring can be cured by drying off by the fire, which is where I'll be if you need to talk or ask anything more of me."

She feigned a chuckle at her own wit, and then softly clacked her way, step by halting step, over to the fire, drawing off a chair to sit close to the largest knot of people without bringing herself into their group. She peered into the fire and pretended to sip on the ale, all the while trying to catch as much of the conversations in the room as possible.

[dancrilis]

Dolph smiled "no need they will be here soon, well maybe not them, but someone with food ... they promised", even as he spoke the door flew open and a tall incredible lean figure entered its body and features covered my robes and a hood it was carrying a large sack, the children backed away quickly obviously scared of someone they didn't know.
The voice sounded like nails scratching stone "Dolph as agreed my master delivers" it dropped the bag, and moved to leave not even waiting for an acknowledgement, at the door it stops and looks directly at Iskah, there is something deeply unsettling about the man.

Avitan heard something ... a beating heart above him, looking to the building he sees the cause, no the causes there are three creatures standing at the top small horrible malformed creatures roughly a foot and a half in height and most of that seemingly fat each with a long toothy grin, noticing him looking they react with surprise chattering to each other for a few seconds before scurrying faster then their frames should allow out of sight.

Elyzaveta heard many things some foul stories relating to the issues one man was having with his bowels, another was haggling the price for his youngest daughters virtue for winter food for the family from the age if the man she would doubt of the girl was even at childbearing age, most of the topic were on sickness and surviving the winter, but there were more then a few on matters of evil creatures in the night stealing children, monsters preying on lone travellers, and now there were old stories (which Elyzaveta was aware of) about how the rains were like this long ago and now monsters took nearly a generation of babes, some were considering leaving Kiev as of the city itself was cursed.

[daelrog]

Iskah frowned. "I will accompany you to see your good master. Thank them for the food." She was afraid, but that's why she had to follow this man. Something about the whole affair seemed wrong. Then again, perhaps everything was wrong since that monster attacked her, if he existed at all.

But the man who came earlier. The invitation, it was in her pocket. He nails dug into her pale arm, bringing a moment's reprieve from her confusion of it all.

[McStabbington]

Elizaveta continued to pretend to sip her ale as she warmed herself by the fire. She filed away the stories about the missing children; they had a weirdly specific vibe that she didn't much care for. Despite her earlier intention, she did not even try to make an effort to try and sell her services. Companionship. That's what I was looking for. I don't get nearly enough of it. She sat in her chair, slowly rocking and staring into the fire.

[Worlok]

"Sir Vicente! There, by that building!" He pointed in the direction where the fat shapes had been but a moment ago. "Some sort of... thing. I'd say we have our suspects. After me...?" And with that, he made to follow them.

[Thundercracker]

Gabriel
Gabriel shakes his head at the state of the man sitting next to him.

"Where was it?" he asks, hoping to get at least one piece of useful information out of the drunk before he passed out.

If the man cannot or will not answer, Gabriel pays for his drink, turns his collar up against the rain, and makes his way back to his haven, passing by his properties on riverfront on his way.

[JonRG]

Vicente

"After," the Castillian chuckled, "That's adorable." With unholy speed, Vicente leapt up onto the building's roof, sword out and ready to annihilate the threat.

Poppin' Celerity because it can't hurt. Will sword the crap out of any tiny fat evil monsters if I can reach them.

Athletics: [roll0] + 3 successes from Potence