Lazarus Rising - IC

[HerbertWest]

Blois, Kingdom of France
November 3rd, 1187
Two hours past sunset:

The city of Blois, normally a busy, bustling community of merchants, traders, travelers, and local farmers, is in a state of alert. While the taverns, alehouses, inns, and less than legal gambling halls are still open for business as usual, many of the farmers, craftsmen, and peasantry have retired to their homes well before sunset. The city guard patrols the streets in pairs of two, looking for any signs of culprits, vagrants, or mischief makers. Anything that could help them close the quickly piling cases plaguing the city. One pair of guards is marching slowly and deliberately as an Autumn breeze blows off of the river, causing their cloaks to billow open, the cold leather upon their breasts growing colder with the wind chill factor. One of the guards grumbles a curse to himself, adjusting the pike in his hand to be able to close his cloak once more. The other guard chuckles at his companion's misfortune, and the two continue their patrol.

The streets are well-lit tonight, with the face of the moon half-way out of the darkness, surrounded by a blanket of stars twinkling in the black night sky. Down one alley, the sound of a struggle is muffled, a mugging gone poorly for the man that tried too hard to keep his coin purse. In another, catcalls and purred promises escape the throats of lowborn whores, promising the warmth of companionship for a silver piece. In the trade sector of the city, the river docks offer a quiet, contemplative destination, disturbed only by the gentle lapping of the river Loire's banks. Here, some merchants insist on continuing to try peddling their wares, though there are few customers out this late at night. Perhaps one of them will get lucky and catch a farmer too deep in his cups to swindle out of some coin.

In the world of the Damned, the evening has just begun. Most of the city's indigenous Cainites are attending their personal business of feeding, training, reading, or even performing at the local amphitheater, though the crowds in attendance are less than usual. Still others make their way to the Elysium, an impressive manor known as Château Vue de la Rivière (https://c2.staticflickr.com/2/1064/1391856954_74dbe6d979_b.jpg). True to its name, this lavish manor-house rests upon the bank of the Loire, secluded from the other homes in the wealthy district of the city. It is here that Prince Alexander de Bourbon holds his court in the Domain of Blois, and posted outside of all of the manor's entrances are armed guards that stop each visitor to the manor, inquiring as to their identity. Some Cainites are well-recognized enough to be immune to this formality, but new faces will definitely be scrutinized.

In less lavish parts of town, the Nosferatu skulk about in the city's sewers, looking for prey among the rats, though some of the more adventurous Lepers make their way to the slums of town, seeking more nourishing prey. Gypsies and some Toreador mingle with the Jewish community, telling stories, spinning tales, and initiating in the draining dance of prey and predator in a more civilized manner. Outside of the city walls, the nocturnal beasts have come out to hunt. Owls cry out in the night, insects buzz, and here or there, the sound of something more primal escapes into the evening's air.

The coterie finds themselves within this city, whether recently arrived, or living here for some time. The intrepid Cainites have many threads that weave them together into a semblance of an alliance, or if nothing else, remain relatively peaceful with one another. What direction into the Long Night will they venture towards, and what will they discover?

[JonRG]

Vicente wanders the streets. His sire had taught him how to hunt, but she drew in men with her charms. So he had been forced to discover his own method, one that he could live with for the rest of the Long Night. So he stopped criminals and took what he needed from them. The sounds off a scuffle echo from a nearby alleyway. "Perfect." With a toothy grin, Vicente slips into the alleyway.

[HerbertWest]

Vincente enters the alleyway, the smell of refuse, excrement, and urine greeting his nose. While not uncommon scents in this part of the city, it is apparent that this alleyway is home to more than one or two of the homeless. However, the beggars have departed the alleyway after the altercation, leaving only a young man slumped up against one of the walls, clutching his stomach with a bloody hand, breathing heavily. The man is heavyset, indicative of a life easier than most peasants and farmers, coupled with his soft leather tunic, green cloak, and hide breeches. The wound in his stomach continues to bleed, and the man's breaths are coming more rapidly. Looking up to Vincente, the victim whispers in a hoarse voice, "Help...me..."

[NotScaryBats]

In the small and crowded mausoleum that Melanie has been calling home, the necromancer is already working. She has arranged a dead rat on a chipped plate, and eagerly watches it, waiting for it to begin to decay. "Hrmmmm... If all food decays, then this rat should, too. For I call it food, and that makes it so. Perhaps if I call myself food? What then? Is it form, function, or something else that triggers this... 'curse'?"

Using one of her many scalpels, the young woman flays off a large strip of her left forearm, where the muscle is pleasant and meaty, and places the 'steak' next to the rat.

She watches it intensely.

[Sgt. Suitable]

Jarvi found his place far left at the top row of the amphitheater. He settled down in the shadow of a robust column that was starting to get overpowered by common ivy. Scanning the rows in front of him he took in the athmosphere. He was planning on casually enjoying a show before more serious matters had to be addressed.

He wasn't sure exactly why he had decided to stay in this particular city for a while. There had been some odd encounters recently, not all unpleasant. Meeting Melanie had certainly been entertaining. He had enjoyed her company the few times he had been lucky enough to come across her, but there was something about her that made him very.. careful around her.
Then there was Emelyn.. He knew exactly why he was careful around that one. When they had met some weeks ago she nearly decapitated him. Jarvi slumps back against the column and rubs his neck, satisfied she didn't succeed. The feral woman proved to be quite pleasant once they had gotten past their extremely rough start. And maybe that was it, he wondered. Perhaps he had decided to stay for a while to take a peak under the veil most wear daily. A temporary rest from always being on the move and a chance to get to know some people.
He had expected to have a hard time convincing the prince to stay in his domain, but the ventrue ruler had been surprisingly lenient. Maybe a little too lenient but Jarvi decided not to look too much into it. He always felt it best to steer clear from these politics when possible. Jarvi remembered the odd encounter with the keeper of Elysium and wondered if that had anything to do with it. He had met the knight just before he was escorted to the prince and at first the keeper had been standoffish and practically patronizing until he learned Jarvi had met Emelyn a while ago. After that the old chap had been all ears and as polite as could be.

Lost in his musings he had missed what the announcer had shouted to the public, but he looked up as the people began to clap.
He casually put his feet up and turned his focus towards the stage. First the show, then later tonight he would perhaps seek out Melanie or think on how to secure a good resting place in this town.

[HerbertWest]

Melanie

The Cappadocian scholar finds herself unable to witness the blight that has been plaguing the food supply in her own "offerings." The experient isn't a complete failure, however. At the very least, Melanie can make her observations from the dead rat, and her own flesh presented as food, not decaying or molding. More rats squeak and squal in the croweded mausoleum, feasting from the most recently interred that still have meat on thier bones, growing fat with the easily gained nutrition. The rodents stay as far away from Melanie as possible, however, her Beast and undead nature making her disturbing to most animals.

Javri

Javri finds himself in the amphitheater (https://c3.staticflickr.com/3/2638/4090105480_cd6c036b76_z.jpg) on the outskirts of town, located alongside the Loire. This evening, a small band of troubadors, five in total, are acting out a play known as Mystère d'Adam. This liturgical drama, as the leader of the troupe narrates, is set in the Garden of Eden, and details an interpretation of Adam and Eve's fall from grace, original sin, and how in the Church's eyes, the couple is damned for eternity. The play closes with Adam and Eve being dragged to Hell by demons, and with a cloud of smoke from a burning pitcher of oil to represent the mouth of Hell as they are ushered through. Overall, the performance was lackluster, lacking any true gusto, or thrilling performances by any of the actors. This might indicate a disinterest in the play's overall message, the level of talent present in the troupe, or both.

Of direct interest to the Ravnos is the fact that those in attendance of the play do not sit near the man. In fact, they eye him suspiciously. With the recent happenings in Blois, it is not surprising that strange faces are regarded with caution and wariness.


[roll0]

[JonRG]

"I have no medical training," Vicente kneels at the man's side and tears off a portion of his cloak, "but here. Hold this tight against the wound. I will return with what was taken from you." He dashes off down the alleyway after the thief.

[HerbertWest]

Vincente

The wounded man takes the piece of cloak from the Brujah with his bloody hand, pressing it against his wound as instructed. His eyes close, and he leans his head back against the wall of the alley. By the looks of it, he isn't long for this world. Vincente, in his act of kindness, has lost time in pursuing his quarry, but may still be able to pick up the trail. The ruckus with those in the immediate vicinity has died down for the most part, though the sound of heavy boots pounding in the next alleyway over doesn't bode well.

[JonRG]

Vicente grits his teeth and dashes after the thief. Or rather, he dashes after the town guard who is itself after the thief.

Close enough, really.

[HerbertWest]

Vicente

As Vicente pursues the mugger with the town guards, the Brujah is able to catch up with the two guards that were previously blasted with a cold breeze off of the Loire. One of them carries a spear, and the other has a sword resting in the scabbard at his hip, his other hand occupied with a lantern. As Vicente joins up with the guards, the one wielding the spear addresses him between breaths as they run in French.

"Sir Vicente? Glad to see you here!"

[NotScaryBats]

"Not entirely unexpected..." Melanie muses to herself. "It would seem that Jacques -- if indeed, this is his doing -- has been more specific in the nature of his curse than I had thought. Then again, perhaps it is merely a coincidence that these troubles began the exact same night that he was executed." Melanie wills her arm to regrow the lost tissue, and taps a finger against her lips, deep in thought. She leaves the mausoleum, lost in her own hypotheses and suppositions, and heads out to the city at large.

Melanie walks alone down the streets at a brisk pace. A young woman like herself has little business being out at such an hour without an escort, and Melanie keeps her eyes peeled, looking for anything unusual. Her ultimate destination is the granary.


Melanie spends a blood point to heal the self-inflicted damage. (Or, more if necessary)

[Honor Guard]

Diego Anzara de Vallejo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=590443)
Blood Pool: 10 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

The sound of stone on stone echoed through the catacombs beneath the L’Aumône Abbey, with preternatural strength he slid the sarcophagus lid to the side. As his eyes fluttered open, he took in the graven images of the Saints and Faithful interred beneath the Abbey, he considered his attire, if he intended on presenting himself to Alexander de Bourbon he would need to play the role he had in life, a soldier. The Prince, while not possessed of martial prowess, would easily dismiss those who prided themselves on that self same prowess as his lesser, and if he allowed de Bourbon to underestimate him, then he could use that to his advantage.

To that effect he began to don his armor, a chain mail hauberk, with unadorned greaves, gauntlets and pauldrons, in addition to this he strapped his prized possession, a broadsword forged of Damascus steel, a gift from his mentor who had recently take up residence in the city of Constantinople. He wandered the Catacombs, turning his back to the Mausoleum, for the catacombs connected with a natural cavern system, carved from the earth by the slow steady stream of water that eventually joined the Loire.

As he entered the night he closed his eyes, and reared his head back, the cool, crisp, night air. His senses felt more alive, and while he oft struggled to exert control over his inner Beast, he did indeed feel a predatory grin creep across his dark features. He traveled to the small farm house of Jean-Pascal Dieudonné, the man was a widower, who had recently been released from service of some minor noble or another over the man's excessive drinking. Yet Dieudonné had been able to maintain a modest coach, and made a living ferrying noblemen and woman to their respective affairs and liaisons, yet unfortunately the man had both a son and daughter, Christian and Yseolt.

He approached the farm house, he had warned Jean-Pascal he would approach him when the sun had set from the sky. Dieudonné, despite his drunken stupor's, was a father who sought to do well by his children, and as such Diego had offered the man some coin for his services over the next few weeks. The man was weak of will, and quickly acquiesced to Diego's demands despite the odd demeanor of his new patron. Diego had promised the coachman, that he would sponsor both son and daughter at court. And so he knocked, the man, still shaking from his forced sobriety answered, his eyes downcast.

Diego simply stated, "It is time," he paused, considered his required arrangements at Château Vue de la Rivière, "Christian and Yseolt are to be presented to Monsieur de Bourbon this evening, their fates are now out of your hands, and yet the life they may yet achieve is greater than ever their father could. The coach is ready, yes?"

Without waiting for response, the tall Spaniard turned his back on the coachmen and strode to the coach, lifting himself into the cab. A short time later he was joined by Dieudonné's children who regarded him with wide eyes, "Sit, tonight you shall speak of nothing that you see, for if you can prove your loyalty to me, your lives may be enriched in service to something far greater than yourselves." The remainder of the ride into Bloise was without incident, the children sharing wild eyed stares with one another while avoiding Diego's gaze.

As he rode, he contemplated the news that he had heard from Bloise, the execution of the Nosferatu, and his uncharacteristic acts prior to his sentencing, the Société de Négoce du Faucon and their desire for the silks and finery that he had been able to procure from his Sire's trade routes from Constantinople. He sought to use the river and spread the wealth of the East with the petty nobles of the area, increasing his own personal wealth, and the influence of Gabrielle herself. In time the coach drew to a stop, and from the chatter he over heard his driver was being challenged by Monsieur de Bourbon's household guard.

He looked at the children, "Follow, three steps behind, look not into the eyes of any you meet tonight, and speak to no one." With that he exited the coach, and drew himself to his full height as he approached the mortals standing at the boundary Elysium.

"Diego Anzara de Vallejo, blood of Gabrielle y Genoa seeks audience with Monsieur de Bourbon, you will stable my coach, groom my horses, and provide my coach man with one cup of wine. Your loyalty and hospitality has been noted."

[JonRG]

Vicente nods to the wheezing guard but does not break stride.

[Failed Phantasm]

With only the wan, undulating light of the half moon above to guide him, Adrian trudged along the Loire at a ponderous pace, bent forward under the weight of his rucksack. Through their bond, he intuited that Crow was circling somewhere overhead, indistinguishable against the night sky through the interminable murk, following his progress with that damnably unreadable corvid stare, but tonight — perhaps for the first time ever — it was the spirit who was unwilling to partake in his shaman’s antics. «The guard will not expect a traveler to come by this road,» he had said before they’d set out earlier, «and I would not dare the forest until we know more about what you have found.» Pausing for a moment to lean on his walking stick, he thought, ‘No doubt you’ve told your other children by now. That’s some reassurance.’ Pulling his cloak tighter, though it was no help against the cold he was struggling against, and adjusting his pack, which made dull *click-clack* sounds as he shifted its weight, Adrian continued on at a slightly less languid pace than before.

As he walked, he passed the occasional bit of human detritus — an abandoned wagon wheel here, a partly-buried barrel there — but not even the usual nocturnal wildlife, which meant that he was nearer to Blois than he’d first thought. Indeed, the river was beginning to broaden and it was running more slowly here than it had alongside Orléans, which he took as a welcome sign. Crow was still refusing to come perch on his shoulder, but he didn’t need the spirit’s vantage point to see the flickering lights dancing along the dockside stalls. At least the guards had not yet challenged his approach, but that was hardly surprising. ‘Let us hope there are answers to be had here,’ he thought, as he moved closer to the riverbank, ‘even if they must be pried from unwilling hands.’ Adrian walked up to a haphazard arrangement of wooden piling and hooked his arm around the sturdiest-looking one he could find, testing to make sure of his grip. Once satisfied, he used his free arm to loosen his rucksack and then turned it over, causing dozens of smooth stones to spill out lazily, each stirring up a small cloud of silt as it came to lay along the bed of the river. Securing it once more — and already feeling himself beginning to float towards the surface without the weight holding him down — he climbed the wooden pole hand over hand, fumbling and losing his grip on the accumulated slime and algae until, finally, his head cleared the water’s surface and he drew in a deep gasp of air out of sheer reflex.

It was then that the crow-spirit soared down, skimming the river with its talons before slowing itself and perching neatly on Adrian’s head. It croaked at him rather plaintively and cocked its head to one side, to which he muttered a reply in Romanian: «As if the water bothers you.» He brushed the sopping wet hair out of his eyes and then, slowly, so as not to alert anyone who might be above him, Adrian started to pull himself to shore, using the piling as his guide; fortunately, this particular dock had a little ramp that would have come down to the water at low tide, which he used to haul himself out of the Loire. He sat for a moment, not bothering to wring the water out of his clothes, listening as the river flowed gently by, staring at his ghostly reflection in the pale moonlight. He reached into his rucksack for a rock, but found not even the smallest of pebbles left to fling violently at the wretched creature he beheld. Sighing, he hung his head and closed his eyes — “you have your father’s eyes, just like your brother”; how many times had he heard that said? But never again, now — and concentrated on whatever passed for blood that was now winding its way through his corpse. Furrowing his brow and frowning almost to the point of a scowl, he willed the blood (certainly not his blood anymore) to move through his veins, started to breathe so that his body would have a rhythm again; when he opened his eyes again, he could see the color start to blossom once more in his hands and could see his breath begin to mist in the chill night air. The crow-spirit hopped from his head onto his shoulder and cawed approvingly, but Adrian could not share its sentiment. ‘It’s just a silly little trick,’ he wanted to say. ‘The worst kind of lie,’ he thought, as he looked down at the familiar face in the water, ‘because it’s one I tell myself.’

With another sigh, he gathered his quarterstaff and nodded in resignation to his totem, who immediately took flight once more. He leaned forward, bracing his legs against the scaffolding beneath him and then suddenly uttered a very loud, panicked cry before launching himself from the dock and into the river with a conspicuously loud *SPLASH!*. As he sank through the cloud of fizzy bubbles that trailed in his wake, Adrian could just make out the half moon as she sailed across the night sky. ‘They're looking up at you right now, aren't they? Have they given up on me yet?’ he wondered, as much to himself as to her, as he sank.


ACTIONS TAKEN

Adrian spends [8 - (Road rating) = 0] BP to appear more human for the remainder of the scene.


CONDITION
Health Uninjured (-0), Vitae 10 / 14, Willpower 10 / 10

ACTIVE EFFECTS

Blush of Health — (One scene) Adrian is appearing more human.
Celerity — (Passive) Adrian adds five to his Dexterity dice pools (including Initiative) and to the number of yards he moves in one turn.
Totem: Crow — (Passive) Crow bestows Awareness +2, Subterfuge +2, and Etiquette +1.

[Lord-Leafar]

As the sun descended through the sky, new signs of life bloomed through the woods around Bloise. A multitude of insects made their presence known with their buzzing calls, bats took over the night sky while birds hid or slept in their nests, several mammals took shelter in the safety of their dens and homes, while many others rose from slumber at the touch of the evening's darkness. Without warning, the chaotic harmony of the forest was shaken with a loud thundering howl, a primal call of one of the most fearsome hunters that made these lands their home. Not long after, another wolf added it's own voice to the howl of the first one, joining their efforts to form an eerie melody that could inspire terror in the hearts of many men.

With the wolf's song still loud in the air and the first stars of the evening shining in the dark firmament, another sort of predator stirred in her sleep, drawn by the primal call to hunt and the coldness of the night. With a small tremble, the vampire rose from her slumber beneath the earth, her bright eyes admired her surroundings hungrily, while her ears and nose took in the less subtle details of the environment, the sounds of animals hidden through out the forest, and the scent of fresh soil and grass heavy in the air. With a grin, the wolf's howl ceased and her eyes slowly began adjusting to the darkness, before she started her slow walk through the woods.

On her way to her destination the wandering Cainite placed a hand on a passing tree, feeling the bark softly under her hand before snapping a branch for her to play with. As she fiddled with the small stick, a recently heard song resurfaced in her mind, bringing a small smile to her lips as she began to hum the melody in an effort to remember it fully. Not long after she began the song, the woman felt a familiar presence in the woods. She heard the crunching of leaves alongside a familiar low growl, and soon enough she spotted two pairs of bright eyes starring at her in the dark, her pack had arrived. The wolves kept a respectful distance from their Master, making their presence known yet waiting to be called if they were needed. With a sharp whistle, the woman signaled the wolves to leave, and without hesitation they ran deep into the woods. She knew they would not be far, but she wanted privacy for what she would do next.

The last few weeks the Cainite had been on a special kind of hunt. For days she had chased rumors and tales of the strange occurrences surrounding the town of Blois. In any other circumstance the involvement of one of the Damned would have been known to the local Cainites, but this time an air of unusual malevolence spread through the area, and something about this eerie unknown presence clawed at her attention. Recognizing a particular patch of woods, the young woman brought her left palm to her face, sharp long fangs appeared under her lips dug into her own flesh, leaving a few drops of precious vitae to fall onto the grass, almost immediately the scent of spilled blood filled her nostrils and she felt that familiar growl deep in the center of her being, she knew she would hunt soon enough, but at the moment she needed to wait. With each step she took, another drop fell to the floor, making a rough path for someone, or something to follow. Not long after, she brought her bleeding hand to her mouth and licked the wound shut, smiling once she admired the bloody bait. If the rumors were true, this area had seen a lot of unusual activity lately: the children's body, the strange markings on the trees and the unusual sounds. If there was indeed something out there, this would be a great place to bait it. Taking a few steps from there, the vampire sat on the grass and leaned next to a tree, humming once again to herself and waited patiently.

[HerbertWest]

Melanie

Melanie is able to make her away out of the cemetery with little issue. One of the junior priests at the small church the cemetery adjoins is lighting the lantern outside of the door when Melanie finally makes it out of the exit from deep within the grounds of the resting place. The man scolds Melanie with a French "You should not be wandering at night alone!", but other than that, he doesn't get in her way.

The granary, from her starting location of the mausoleum, is a longer walk, which allows the Cappadocian time to continue her musings and thoughts on her experiment. The most direct route to make her way towards the granary leads her first through the docks district, where three guards are in a clamor, one with the butt of his spear in the river, shouting and cajoling in French at something in the river.

Diego

Diego makes his way into town via his hired coachman, the children looking excitedly and nervous at one another throughout the ride, and even peering out of the small window in the rear end of the coach to look upon the city. It is apparent that for the children, coming into town is a rare treat, and they hope to take advantage of the sights while they can. Château Vue de la Rivière astounds the children when Diego exits the coach with them, though they do their best to follow his instructions, only stealing furtive glances at the architecture and grand manor when it won't contradict the Lasombra's instructions to not look at anyone directly.

Upon making his introduction to the guards at the Elysium, the ghouled guardsmen allow the coach to pass, responding to Diego in French. The ghouls are respectful of the Cainite, knowing full well their position and status within the society of the Damned.

"Oui, monsieur Anzara de Vallejo. The horses shall be tended to, and your instructions followed clearly. When you are prepared to leave monsieru de Bourbon's court, we shall fetch your manservant to see to no undue delay in your departure."

With that, the guards allow Diego to pass. After crossing the courtyard, which boasts foreign foliage and flowers, a servant opens the door of the manor into the foyer (http://homesoftherich.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/foyer.jpg) of the manor. A chandelear hangs from the ceiling, the candles illuminating the reception room. The butler then closes the door behind Diego, and holds out his arm to him.

"Your cloak, monsieur? The Prince holds court upstairs, in the banquet hall. Should you wish to peruse the Keeper's current exhibit, Sir Jordan has procured a collection of art from the Holy Land and eastern desert. I do hope you find your visit to Château Vue de la Rivière pleasant."

The servant leaves Diego to explore the manor on his own, unless the Lasombra asks something of him, in which case he is attentive to the Cainite. Diego can tell that the Elysium has many rooms, both on the lower and upper floors, and Cainites gather in different rooms throughout the manor. Two well dressed vampires are in the adjoining room, admiring and discussing a carpet hanging on the wall. In a room to Diego's left, a debate is in progress regarding the philosophy of transubstantiation. From the upper level, not much can be heard, either from distance, lack of activity, or closed doors is difficult to tell.

Vicente

Vicente is in much better physical condition than the guards, and easily outpaces them in the pursuit of the criminal. He makes such good time with his long strides, that the Brujah is within arms reach of the man, who is trying his best to run even faster. The criminal cannot compete with Vicente's physical prowess, and is easily within his reach, should Vicente wish to tackle or strike the man. In his right hand he carries a bloody dagger, and in his left he is clutching a small coin purse.

Adrian

The journey through the Loire is uneventful, with the occasional fish cropping up to run into the Cainite, but nothing of significance. When he drops himself back into the river, a trio of city watchmen rush over to investigate. Seeing the disturbance in the water, one of the guards dips the butt of his spear in the water, trying to ascertain what is beneath the black depths. Adrian can see the wooden shaft darting about through the surface, and even manages to get poked a few times by the butt of the weapon. Though distorted and muffled, Adrian can hear the guards all shouting to grab on if human, or they will start poking with the sharp end. Crow caws in amusement, unheard by the mortals, but Adrian knows that the spirit is enjoying the free show.

Emelyn

The Gangrel baits her trap, waiting for anyone, or anything attracted to the scent of fresh blood in the forest to come and make its presence known. Emelyn waits for quite some time, the vitae growing cold upon the ground, but soon is rewarded for her predatory vigilance. Not seeing anything amiss with the clearing, a group of four approaches the clearing wearing grey robes. They are leading a small, female child with them into the clearing. The child seems confused, and like she doesn't belong to any of the adults that are practically dragging her through the forest in the dead of night. When the child continues to whine, a male voice barks out from underneath a grey, hooded robe.

"Be quiet, do you want a wolf to get you?!"

The child quiets at that, looking around frantically by the lantern light of the group, fear gripping her. The child appears to be no more than six years old.

[NotScaryBats]

Melanie passes the young priest without so much as a by your leave, and continues on her way through the night. Her footfalls tap out in rhythm with her thoughts. "Should this be a ghostly curse, perhaps some spirit may be present at the granary to communicate with. Barring that, the premises should be worth a look just to see if I can't find anything else going on...

The young woman continues like this until she hears the splash. Such commotion dt this hour should mean a drowning drunk! Melanie had not properly inspected a person that has drowned to death to date, and the potential for such a relatively rare opportunity (when not orchestrated, naturally) caused her to change course and further investigate the guards on the docks.

She comes a few meters away, and she says, excuse me, sirs, but what is going on?

[JonRG]

Vicente taps into the power within his blood, then takes a flying leap at the man.

I gotta get back to my main man, so I need this to work, for real. Spending 1 BP to gain 4 automatic successes on my flying tackle roll.

[roll0] + 4 successes (7 sux)

[Failed Phantasm]

With the haft of a spear being jammed into his temple, and over the (mocking?) laughter of his totem spirit, Adrian thought, ‘Alas for my dignity, and yet this is far preferable to the method by which I smuggled myself into Vienna.’ He would have sighed audibly had he any air left in his lungs, but failing that, he resigned himself to rolling his eyes as he attempted to right himself. ‘At least I shall be clean when I present myself before the Prince,’ he thought, as he reached out to grab the proffered weapon; ‘Sopping wet, but clean.’

As Adrian was removed from the Loire a second time, he grasped for the dock and felt hands on his shoulder and back helping to haul him out of the river. He coughed and gasped for air a few times, expelling the mouthful of water he had taken in, and then looked up at his “rescuers” and said, “Merci! Merci infiniment!” — he coughed once more — “What a clumsy thing for me to do,” he added, with a weak laugh.

He leaned against his quarterstaff as stood up, brushed his sopping wet hair out of his face once again, and then looked around now that he was out of the river. Aside from the town guard attending him, he noticed a woman — a pale woman, almost unnaturally so — standing a short distance away, perhaps inquiring after the commotion he had made? As Crow settled on his shoulder once more, accompanied by the ephemeral sound of its wings flapping, Adrian’s gaze lingered in her direction and he thought, ‘What pallor she has! Are the physicians of this place so fond of leechcraft? I wonder…’ Then he turned to the guards again, since they would no doubt want to question, or perhaps mock, him.


ACTIONS TAKEN
Adrian attempts to grab the spear. Disregard the following roll if unnecessary.

Dexterity [3] + Athletics [2] + Celerity [5]: [roll0]
Result: 6 successes at difficulty 6 (10, 9, 6, 9, 6, 6).


CONDITION
Health Uninjured (-0), Vitae 10 / 14, Willpower 10 / 10

ACTIVE EFFECTS

Blush of Health — (One scene) Adrian is appearing more human.
Celerity — (Passive) Adrian adds five to his Dexterity dice pools (including Initiative) and to the number of yards he moves in one turn.
Totem: Crow — (Passive) Crow bestows Awareness +2, Subterfuge +2, and Etiquette +1.

[Lord-Leafar]

Emelyn

The Gangrel baits her trap, waiting for anyone, or anything attracted to the scent of fresh blood in the forest to come and make its presence known. Emelyn waits for quite some time, the vitae growing cold upon the ground, but soon is rewarded for her predatory vigilance. Not seeing anything amiss with the clearing, a group of four approaches the clearing wearing grey robes. They are leading a small, female child with them into the clearing. The child seems confused, and like she doesn't belong to any of the adults that are practically dragging her through the forest in the dead of night. When the child continues to whine, a male voice barks out from underneath a grey, hooded robe.

"Be quiet, do you want a wolf to get you?!"

The child quiets at that, looking around frantically by the lantern light of the group, fear gripping her. The child appears to be no more than six years old.
A feral smile adorns Emelyn's pink lips at the sight of potential prey. With practiced predatory grace, Emelyn slips into the darkness of the woods, just at the margin of the mysterious men's perception and the range from their light. She keeps her vigil on the 4 strangers, while she wills the stagnant veins in her body to pump the unholy vitae through her corpse. Patient as she is, she waits on the men to continue their night journey, following silently when and if they move.

Spending 2 Blood points to pump Dexterity to 5, hiding and stalking the group, gonna follow them and see what they're up to.
Blood Points: 8/14

[NotScaryBats]

Melanie frowns slightly in response to the guards fishing out a living man. She focuses on the man and reads his aura, feeling something is afoot.

auspex 2 [roll0]
Perception four, awareness 3

She corrects herself. Ah, not a living man after all. please pardon my husband, kind sirs, for he is clumsy, and too far into the bottle to mind himself. Come, Jacques, we should get you to bed -- I was worried sick after you." the pale young woman approaches the drenched Cainite and offers her arm around his shoulders to stabilize him. you'll catch your death of cold if you stay outside in this weather, she clucks like her mother used to when fussing over her father.

[HerbertWest]

Melanie

The guards seem to mostly ignore Melanie, focused on their joint effort of pulling Adrian out of the river. One of the guards, the furthest away from the docks, looks back at the Cappadocian and glares at her with annoyance.

"You should be away at home, not out at this hour!"

It would seem that the town guard is spooked by the recent occurrences, and isn't trying to be rude, but trying to keep what appears to be a defenseless woman safe.

Vicente
The man falls to the ground, rather harshly, the wind being knocked out of him. He wheezes, possibly having broken ribs from the force of Vicente's tackle. The dagger and coin purse spill out of his hands, clattering into the dirt and muck. The man is obviously a poor peasant, by the smell of his filthy clothes, his cracked, weathered skin, and his dialect.

"Please sir...I...I didn't mean't hurt 'im!"

Adrian

Indeed, Adrian gets the sense that Crow was mocking him, not so much for his method of transit, but for how it had turned out for the Cainite thus far. The guards react to his thanks by looking around, and helping him up, if he allows them to. The main guard, seeming to be their sergeant present, helps lead Adrian towards the shipmaster's part of the docks, where a portly man sits close to a fire, making notes in a ledger.

"Come on now, we need to get you by a fire! What were you doing, out by the docks at this hour?"

[Honor Guard]

Diego Anzara de Vallejo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=590443)
Blood Pool: 10 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

Diego wandered into one of the adjoining rooms, he had heard two voices discussing a fine Persian carpet. He was still curious about the Bloise Kindred and their reaction to the death of the Nosferatu Christos. The Prince had had him executed in a most public fashion for breaking the Traditions of the Blood, repeatedly.

He would need to reach out to the Nosferatu himself, to see if they would provide him with their wisdom, and perhaps provide him with some answers as to what plagued the domain of de Bourbon. Of course before he could reach to underground network of the Nosferatu, he would need to introduce himself to the Prince, scrape and bow to appease the Ventrue's pride.

He took a seat on a glided chair, and snapped his fingers, giving the young Yseolte look that summoned her to his side, he absently stroked her hair as he perused the library of books. He nodded towards Christian, "De Administrando Imperio, bring it to me, we are guests in de Bourbon's manse, and he has much to oversee of late."

As the young boy struggled with the tome, a treatise on the political geography of Europe, penned by Constantine VII. As he reverently opened the book on a reading table, he listened to the conversations of the Kindred present in the small library as well.

[JonRG]

Vicente grits his teeth. It was hard to tamp down on the anger, since his Embrace. "Then why did you stab him?" Simultaneously, a part of him feels for the poor man who felt forced to do this.

[Failed Phantasm]

As the guard led Adrian forward, quarterstaff *thump*ing on the wood as they went, the crow-spirit settled on his shoulder once again and cocked its head in the direction of the eerie woman who was coming his way. While the vampire attempted to placate to the guardsmen — “Messieurs, I thank you truly, but there’s no need to fuss over me! I will surely warm faster indoors.” — the totem appraised the newcomer. It turned its head and fixed one eye on the pale woman, scrutinizing her as if she were a bit of carrion that had lain out so long that even the flies no longer wanted it. It took only a moment of such inspection before it hopped on its perch, recoiling from her; it took flight and circled around his head once before landing on Adrian’s other shoulder. It leaned down and put its beak right to Adrian’s ear, whispering to him in a harsh, oily, creaky, mournfully grave voice:


“See how It-That-Consumes makes its nests! I can see its hunger through the eyes of this HOLLOW FLESH-PUPPET it wears. Fomor! Fomor! Fomor! It is nothing but a Meagre Will willfully shackled to the Great Devourer!”


In spite of not fully retaining his autonomic functions, Adrian paused mid-sentence and shuddered slightly. ‘Gah! Can’t you just tell me things without needing to be so dramatic?’ he thought, rubbing at his ear and briefly glaring at the bird-spirit on his shoulder. But the spirit could not hear his thoughts, and Adrian surreptitiously glanced at each of the guards in turn, with worried eyes and a furrowed brow. Out of the corner of his mouth, he then whispered to his totem in Romanian, «I attend, Crow. But please don’t scare me like that!»

“It is not I you need fear this night.” It looked up. “It comes.” Then, it leaned down and whispered into his ear once again, much softer, more clearly:


“I will not leave your side.”


Adrian glanced at the guards as the woman attempted to single him from the herd and lead him away, wondering how they would react to such a transparent ploy. For his part, he recoiled from her when she attempted to take him by the shoulders; he could practically hear Crow cawing “Fomor!” in his ear again. He grit his teeth and glared at her while addressing the guards, saying, “The young mademoiselle is quite mistaken. I have never met her before and I do not know her, much less where she intends to take me.” He did not think he could make his objection clearer than that. He then looked at the sergeant directly in the eye and, with a most grave expression, declared, “And for her to accuse me of being a common drunkard, no less! No wine has passed my lips since I swore my most solemn oaths in the sight of God!” The last part was technically true; he had been initiated into his Road across the street from the Church of Saint Stephen in Vienna. Crow laughed, knowing full well what he meant.

“But surely, such astute men as yourselves have noted that I speak your beautiful French tongue in my atrocious foreign accent?” He bowed his head apologetically before continuing. “I am a traveling physician from Hungary on my way to the university in Paris. And as to the reason for my nighttime excursion, an associate of mine in Orléans directed me to a… friend of his here, whose name is… ah… Alexandre du Bourbon, if my memory serves?” — ‘I’m not sure the Prince of Orléans would call Monsieur du Bourbon a “friend”, but…’ — “I know only that his château is near the river. Would you be so kind as to direct me there?”


CONDITION
Health Uninjured (-0), Vitae 10 / 14, Willpower 10 / 10

ACTIVE EFFECTS

Blush of Health — (One scene) Adrian is appearing more human.
Celerity — (Passive) Adrian adds five to his Dexterity dice pools (including Initiative) and to the number of yards he moves in one turn.
Totem: Crow — (Passive) Crow bestows Awareness +2, Subterfuge +2, and Etiquette +1.

[Sgt. Suitable]

As Adam and Eve are being dragged to Hell by demons, Jarvi gets up and leaves without giving them a second thought.
He's not particularly inspired by the play but at least he had some time to reflect on his situation a bit.

The night is still young, and he's eager to explore the city some more and find if these rumors of a blood libel he's been hearing about are true.. But if he is to stay in this place for a longer period of time he's going to need a better place to rest during the day. Someone is bound to stumble upon the large chest he's buried under the tree overlooking the graveyard. He rigged it so that when he closes the chest from the inside, which in itself requires a very uncomfortable position in the first place, a bunch of branches and a lot of leaves fall on top of it.. Hopefully camouflaging it enough to be left alone.

He wanders through Blois looking for oppertunities but tries to make himself unnoticeable while doing so. He sticks to the shadows a bit, doesn't look people in the eye and walks as if he knows where he's going without haste. He tries to raise as little suspicion as possible roaming through the city looking for possibilities, people he can manipulate into letting him in or perhaps an abandoned building he might claim. Even an inn or a hostel would do, given that he can secure his privacy well enough.

[NotScaryBats]

"A ha, ha..." Melanie laughs humorlessly and smiles without showing her teeth. "Excuse me, I must be mistaken," she murmurs quietly and peers again at the wet stranger.

what an unfortunate turn of events, Melanie thinks to herself. to be denied such a singular opportunity and at the same time to be chastised so by a God-fearing Cainite -- tres hypocrite! -- I must realign myself with my mission, head to the manse du Bourbon, and see if any like-minded individuals are as serious as I am in getting to the bottom of these mysteries that plague Bloise!

"What a strange coincidence, that you should so closely resemble my wayward drunkard of a husband in mien and manner, monsieur. " Melanie says with a warmth that starkly contrasts to the pale white of her skin and bloodlessness of her nearly blue lips. "To further exacerbate the serendipity, we find that I should be heading in the same direction as you, and know the way. I understand completely should you not wish to accompany one such as I, but I find myself a defenseless woman, alone in the night, and without an escort I shudder to think what fate may befall me before I return to the safety of the manse that I serve as a maid at. Quel dommage, tres terribles, what am I to do? I fear my real husband may not be found this evening, for he may lie in halls of ill repute," The young woman puts her hand to her forehead dramatically and sways, as though she is about to faint.

[HerbertWest]

Diego

The boy struggles with the tome, indeed, but nonetheless dutifully brings the book to Diego. Inside of the library (http://www.lronhubbard.org/sites/default/files/styles/gcui_slide_header_576/public/10-saint-hill-library.jpg), five Cainites are gathered, with the majority still vehemently discussing the possibility of transubstantiation, and its implications for the Kine who followed the church and received the Eucharist. Seated upon one of the small couches is a large, bearded Cainite (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/89/40/3a/89403a8f015351356462bb922c68783f.jpg), silently listening with a contemplative look as three of the others continue their debate. The fifth of the Damned sits away from the debate, also reading a book and looking somewhat uncomfortable. It would seem that he has not chosen to leave the room due to the placement of the debate. One is a short, black haired man wearing a priest's habit, his hands folded in front of him in a neutral, pensieve demeanor. He was calm in his delivery of his rebuttal to his two opponents. "With Jesus Christ asking of the flock to partake in his body and his blood in sacrament, it brings the Kine closer in their relationship with both Christ and we the Damned. The Eucharist is symbolic of Christ's acceptance of our Damned nature; as Kine, we fed upon the blood of Christ, so as Cainites, we feed upon the blood of Christ's children."

The priest's opponents stand opposite of him, in the middle of the room, and the larger (http://www.aceshowbiz.com/images/still/the-last-witch-hunter09.jpg) of the two replies in Latin, following the priest's chosen tongue in his counter. "Looking at it from your perspective, Jonas, it would seem you are implying that Christ, and by extension God himself, condones the practice of cannabalism! We are Damned, being the childer of Caine, the cursed of God. The fifth chapter of Ezekiel shows God making the act of eating human flesh punishable. The verse reads, "Therefore the fathers shall eat the sons in the midst of thee, and the sons shall eat their fathers; and I will execute judgments in thee, and the whole remnant of thee will I scatter into all the winds." How then, other than with pagan magic, would a priest of the Lord come by the power to turn bread into Christ's flesh, when it goes against God's will?"

Those present at the debate seem to pay Diego no mind, though the seated observer of the debate gave the Lasombra a small nod of greeting.



[b]Vicente

The man beneath him wheezes and breathes raggedly, surely injured beneath the Brujah's might. Still, he attempts to respond, even as the jingling of armor and the stomping of boots heralds the imminent arrival of the guards, breathing heavily as they tried to catch up with Vicente. "He...f-fought me..I had no choice...my daughter, my daughter needs a funeral!" The man breaks down, sobbing between pain emotional and physical. The guards are still struggling to catch up, and seem to be one block behind the altercation.

Adrian and Melanie

The guards point towards the general direction of de Bourbon's manse, though further than that, they do not seem to be overly talkative. A general nodding of respect at his claim to be a physician is all Adrian gets after the mention of the Cainite Prince's name. The guards make their way back to their rounds, looking behind their shoulders once or twice as they move off into the less reputable parts of the city. The Cappadocian and Caitiff are left to their own devices, whether they choose to stay together, or split apart.

Javri

Javri's excursion throgh the Jewish quarter of town will make him notice the difference in living quarters and conditions in Blois between the Christians and the Jews. Whereas the other parts of town have regular town guard patrols, this section of town has a nearly non-existant presence of the protectors of the peace. As such, many houses of ill repute and less than pleasant drinking establishments have made their businesses thrive here, despite the Jews themselves not taking part in these places, save for the occassional defector from the faith. Javri would be able to find a suitable temporary haven with gypsy camps, brothels, or inns in this section of town, though the safety of not having his door kicked down or his possessions taken from him during the day is in question.

Emelyn

The Gangrel remains unseen by the gathering of robed individuals as they continue to lead the frightened child through the darkness of the forest, led by only the lamps they carry. Emelyn is able to trail the group to a clearing in the trees, a large stone jutting out from beneath the earth with a naturally smooth surface. Above, the half-moon is clearly visible, illuminating the strange coterie of Kine. They stop their march, and the lead human, presumably the leader, moves to the rock and unfurls a leather tool roll. The sound of iron muffled by leather hits the stone, though from this distance the kind of tools present are not easily discernable. The little girl looks up at the woman closest to her, asking, "Can we go back home now? I want my mother." The woman scoffs and kneels down to eye level with the child, petting her face and trying to sooth the child. "Soon, child, soon, you will be home."

[Honor Guard]

Diego Anzara de Vallejo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=590443)
Blood Pool: 10 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

Diego watched the discussion with some passing interest, as the seated man inclined his head in greeting, Diego returned the gesture, and with respect inclined his head slightly lower, and slightly longer than the seated man. His weathered face, and long unkempt hair and beard spoke of an older and more violent age, yet the furrowed brow, and keen eyes belied an astute and keen intelligence before. He had heard of this man, Lucas, of Clan Brujah, some semblance of respect would allow him to avoid the prodigious wrath of that notorious bloodline.

His attention returned to the two kindred speaking of, with reverence of the Eucharist, and their interpretations of it's relevance to their own nature as Kindred, and the Damned. He chuckled as he stood, looking towards the two,

"And so it is that when the sun sets and I walk past the threshold of a most Holy House of our Lord and Savior, I am struck by some measure of awe, and reverence. Yet in the same note, when I walk past latrine, I remember the functions of my mortal days, yet because I remember what it was to piss and ****, I do not feel the need to do so. The Eucharist of which you speak, may have once had relevance in our lives, when we drew breath, and lived in the sun, and yet now we are but Damned, as evidenced in the fact that we break His most holy tenant, Thou Shall not Kill, more times in a turn of the moon, than many a men from the womb to the grave."

Behind him his shadow roiled and thickened and roiled as he became more impassioned, "Were I to drain the life's blood from a Vicar or Priest on the very floor of his Cathedral, until his complexion were as pale as the cold, uncaring alabaster angels who looked down on him, were I to do so, and then from mine own wrist forced my cursed blood past his ravening lips, in a mockery of the Eucharest and Transubstantiation itself, would he be ripped from Salvation, and forever cursed to walk this endless night. So tell me then, whose blood has more potency, mine own, or the wine of the Eucharist?"

He spoke calmly, softly as he spun to return to his chair and his reading, "In life we clung to the light of the church, it provided the illusion of safety amidst the howling dark, in death we have become the dark, to believe otherwise is lunacy."

Not actually using Shadowplay or Obtenebration, but I feel when a Lasombra talks of his innder darkness, the Abyss ripples, and some semblance of their Obtenebration makes it's presence known. Maybe that's just my interpretation though!

[Lord-Leafar]

Emelyn
Blood Pool: 10 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

Emelyn stares at the assembled kine with increasing suspicion, even though she anticipated a hunt and the taste of warm blood on her lips, she could not help but feel mistrust from the situation unfolding in front of her. These were not ordinary people, few ventured through the woods at this time at night, and fewer still did so with a child in their company, furthermore, there was the possibility that these men were something besides mere kine, for they could possess an unnatural predilection for cruelty and mindless savagery if they were the culprits behind the local rumors, acts that even Beastly Vampires like herself would condemn. However, was this not this kind of mysteries the reason why she kept on traveling from town to town? Was this not a test of her endurance and survival as a predator? An option appeared in front of her, and Emelyn chose to take it.

In the darkness of the woods, as the mysterious group approached the secluded clearing, Emelyn casted away her human shape as one would discard a robe, assuming the four legged posture of her hunting form, her whole body undulated as a black wolf took over Emelyn's shape and form, a pair of vibrant yellow eyes amongst a fur as dark as the night sky, with long yellow fangs, and dark sharp claws that dig on the dirt below her. Crouched and moving with soft animal steps, the black beast approached the humans, her eyes focused on one of the grey hooded men, waiting for the moment where he would have his attention focused on the child and whatever procedure was to performed in this unholy night, with his stranger's back turned against her, the Vampire waited for the perfect moment to strike.

Ok assuming Emelyn remains hidden from sight, and once at the clearing the men take enough time taking out the tools and preparing the girl for whatever they'll use her, Emelyn assumes Shape of the Beast for 1 Blood Point and 3 turns (9 seconds), if however, time seems a bit rushed, she will spend 2 Blood Points to transform in 2 turns (6 seconds). Once she's transformed, she will wait to attack one of two people, if anyone carries any visible weaponry, she will attack that person first, if no one seems to carry weapons, she will attack the leader of the group, the one using the tools, hoping to catch him and them unaware, but only until her target seems the most distracted, which I assume will be the time when they'll start using the tools. Not rolling to attack just yet in case you wanna drop any more info about the group and what they seem to be doing.

Blood Points 9/14 (or 8/14)

[HerbertWest]

Diego

Upon Diego's interjection into the debate, Jonas (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/02/60/6b/02606bce2bf12a45bd765e234c5a6b0b.jpg) falls silent, allowing the Lasombra to speak what he has to say, and seems keenly interested in the man's points that he makes regarding the nature of what it is to be Cainite in relation to religion. As Jonas opens his mouth to respond, he is cut off by the Warrior Scholar that had been verbally fencing with him. The second of the Brujah (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/95/35/67/953567f484845d50554f6c14afd17306.jpg) remained silent in the debate still, though he turned along with Zbylut as the loud, brash man responded to Diego. "We were not discussing the Eucharist for the Damned, Shadowstalker, but of its relevance to the Kine! You should open your ears before entering the arena!" The temper of the Brujah was hard to miss, with clenched fists and a shouted baritone. Whether it was his pride being wounded at having been challenged by a stranger, his inability to come up with an equally intelligent rebuttal, or just pure inability to control his Beast, Zbylut was clearly growing more irritated by the second. He opened his mouth to continue, before Lucas rose from his seat. He was shorter than his childer, though this is attributed to the time in which he lived, rather than being physically inferior. Looking up at them, the weight of the Elder's charisma could be felt even by those in the room, even without the usage of powers of the blood. Rather than being impassioned, Lucas speaks with the calmness and patience of one that has struggled with the Beast for centuries. "You will hold your tongue when speaking to those you do not know, and not offer insult when none is warranted. You will make your apologies to our newest arrival in the Prince's library, and then you will accompany your brother Kaulder home."

Emelyn

The Gangrel assumes the lupine form, bringing with it the enhanced senses of the wolf. She can smell fear radiating from the child, and a smell of decay, like death, emanating from the group in general. Something is not right with the mortals that pervade the wilderness this night. Regardless, as the Wanderer watches, the woman that had soothed the child walks her over to the rock, picking her up to stand upon its cold, hard surface. She, and the others, then move to form a semi-circle, with the leader of the group moving some of the tools out of the leather roll. Emelyn can see with the vision of the wolf that these tools include a pear of anguish, a tinker's hammer, and blacksmith's tongs. The group begins to chant a phrase, over and over again, as the leader begins to bind the hands and feet of the struggling child with plain, hempen rope.

"Blood for the master, blood for the gods. Blood for the master, blood for the gods. Blood for the master, blood for the gods."

[Honor Guard]

Diego Anzara de Vallejo (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=590443)
Blood Pool: 10 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

Diego nodded to Lucas, the Brujah elder, "Please, it is I who most offer apology, and make amends. I have been long removed from the halls of academia, and as such I tend to view such discourse as it relates to my own nature and experiences. It was my interjection, and so you," he looked the larger Brujah in the eyes, "have my sincerest apologies for interrupting your discourse with your brother."

With that Diego bowed his head modestly, "I am Diego Anzara de Vallejo, Childe of Gabrielle of Genoa, Childe of Isabella d'Agostino, Childe of Marcus D’Agostino, Childe of Constantius, Childe of Montano, Childe of our revered Sire, Lasombra. I am recently arrived to Court and would pay my respect to Monsieur de Bourbon and Clan Ventrue."

[JonRG]

The fight goes out of Vicente. For Brujah levels of such. He had a little sister. Once. Justice had to be done, but this man's situation warranted pity. "Tell me about your daughter," Vicente says in a softer tone. "Where is she now?"

[Sgt. Suitable]

Strolling through the Jewish quarter Jarvi felt good. He liked the liveliness. It felt honest. If he were to take a haven it had to be here he decided. He felt he wanted to get to know these people and their stories, become part of it. The more he walked through these streets the clearer it became to him. He needed to be here.
Jarvi made a sharp right and made his way back towards the 'better' part of town, looking for elysium.

[Lord-Leafar]

Emelyn
Blood Pool: 9 of 14
Willpower: 9 of 9
Wounds & Condition: Uninjured

With her lupine senses flaring with the recent sensory input, Emelyn's clawed paws rip the ground below as she breaks into movement, her powerful form leaping swiftly towards the group, coming from outside their semi-circle and out of their vision, with one sudden jump the wolf soared through the air, it's open fanged maw was aimed at the neck of her unsuspecting prey, the man with the tools, hoping that once her bite landed and held onto the flesh of the kine, the inertia and strength of her jump added to the weight of her hunting form, will be enough to break the man's stance and bring the prey down on the floor, with her jaws firmly locked around the victim's neck.

Alright, spending 1BP to increase strength to 4, and a list of actions I'll do, first a Dex (5) + Stealth (3) roll for the ambush (if the previous stealth roll still applies, then ignore this roll). [roll0]
If successful, my attack goes next, but if not, here's my Initiative roll: [roll1]
Now the attack, since I want to bite, first a Strength (4) + Brawl (3) roll to initiate a Hold (diff 7), if the rules of attacking from the rear apply (pg 346), which I hope they do, I add 2 dice on the attack roll, if they do not apply, then I can re-roll or ignore the last 2 dice results. [roll2]

I do have a question though, can a Vampire in Lupine form inflict the Kiss? I'm inclined to think they can't, but I wanna know before I start the bite action on the next turn if I'm successful with the Hold.