[IC] Red Cardinals: Obedience

[Thanqol]

We here are of the conviction that the papacy is the seat of the true and real Antichrist... personally I declare that I owe the Pope no other obedience than that to Antichrist.
- Luther


Red Cardinals
A Game of Urban Shadows

STARRING
RCGothic as Serafina Rossini (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=19987283&postcount=26)
Madcrafter as Adolfo Card. Rossini (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20012152&postcount=48)
Anarion as Marco Alescio Cavour (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20017530&postcount=56)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not actually believe or mean to suggest that the Catholic Church is run by vampires. Let's avoid any sort of real world religious discussion.

*

It is 1999. It is the future.

Each of you receive a phone call this night that will change your unlives forever. Where are you? What do they say?

[Anarion]

I pull my fangs from the young woman's body and lift her gently in my arms. Her raven hair drapes gently over my arm and tickles my wrist as I lay her in the curtained bed that takes up most of the guest room. She murmurs slightly and nestles into the silk pillow.

Her blood was delicious and it was all I could do to restrain myself from draining the rest. But Katarina will be waiting in the anteroom and I am eager to return to her for some dancing, not a murder investigation. Just then, my phone rings (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTMRtIrMCbA) and I look at the number: Bishop Montreaux. His deep voice rasps through the line: "You wanted ya friend, Michael all alone, yeah? He's just leavin my confession. It's a dark night, and his soul be free from sin, should anythin happen to it. Remember this, my friend, when next I call you."

[RCgothic]

*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

I groan slightly as I slowly realise I'm no longer asleep. The bed is warm and I'm entangled in the arms of my lover. Through the open window I can hear faint sounds of a city not quite asleep. It was warm earlier, but now the September air carries a distinct chill. Next to me on the dresser my phone buzzes against the hardwood. I really don't want to get up.

*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

I try and blink the grog out of my eyes, the result of more than just sleep. Next to me I notice Cornelio smells good. Really good! Under the aromas of sweat, wine and vodka I think it's the cologne Silvia gave him for his birthday. What the hell kind of time is it, anyway? We must have been out drinking until 2.30am.

*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

3am. ****. Luckily Cornelio's a much heavier sleeper than me, especially when he's had a few. I gently disentangle myself and then snatch up my 8210. The insistent rattle of red plastic on oak immediate dies to a quiet purr in my hand and I pull on the first thing that comes to hand as I cross the room - Cornelio's room; Cornelio's shirt - to the short entrance hall. I close the door behind me and then lean against it for support as the room spins briefly, the after-effects of two bottles of wine and a line of white making themselves known. I close my eyes tightly and wait for it to pass.

*brrrr!* *brrrr!* *brrr-

"Yes?" I answer quietly.

"Serafina! I've found a drop." I'm immediately more alert. I start buttoning up my shirt, but then change my mind, letting it slip to the floor. Where'd I leave my dress?

"Vorbis? You have! When? Where?" Still quiet, but urgent now.

I return to the studio, hunting for my underwear - there! - bra - there! - and dress. No, those're Cornelio's chinos. Ah, there it is.

"Parco degli Aquadotti. Vialo Appio Claudio, 4am by the Cuba Libre club."

I hang up abruptly and toss my phone into my clutch. One leg into my dress I have second thoughts - I'm just going to have to change into my leathers in the Miura anyway - isn't that always fun? (Crib notes: car's tiny.) I'm not going to run into anyone in the lifts this time of night.

I toss the dress over my shoulder and kiss Cornelio goodbye. He'll understand - I rarely stay all night. But I had hoped to last a little more of this one.


Cornelio:
https://momentumoffailure.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/picture-15.png

Cornelio's place:
http://www.moveandstay.com/picture_bedroom/al_faris_3_hotel_apartments_36552_3.JPG

[Madcrafter]

It had been comfortably quiet in the little library, perfect for a little light reading. Not anymore though. Adolfo Rossini stared at the ringing block of plastic in his hands for a moment before remembering that he actually had to press a button to finish the connection. The cellphone didn't usually get calls; everyone in the church relied on landlines, and his granddaughters usually sent him messages through text, which was apparently the hip new thing.

"Adolfo?" came the unusually brittle voice of Prefect Oriol "The Pope. Pain in two fingers on the left hand. You must find a cure for this... thing." The line went dead.

There was no need to ask what the Prefect had meant. Vampires weren't particularly susceptible to disease, and there was only one thing the church did not have some solution for. Some kind of metaphysical cancer, pervasive, insistent. It had started showing up a few years ago, before the world had begun to turn upside-down around them, claiming lives seemingly at random.

And now the Pope was the latest victim.

He closed his book and started down the stairs to his sanctum. This was a wonderful opportunity of course. Curing the Pope would be seen as a bona fide miracle. On the other hand, there was still another, what, eleven years on his term? A chance like this wouldn't come again, and everyone had skin in this game. The door was open, and a mysterious death wouldn't be so mysterious anymore. Who else would Oriol call? Delacroix probably, Montreaux, Paszek. The other members of the Prefecture. Likely it. No telling how fast the rumours would spread though.

The phone chirped again. Text message. Adolfo stopped and tapped through to read it. "Boss found someone standby donato" wasn't very informative, but at least this Donato had used full words. Boss was almost guaranteed to be Monti. Interesting, but not urgent.

He opened the sanctum door and flicked on the lights. Now, how does one cure an incurable disease?

What do I need to create a cure for the Pope?

[Thanqol]

I pull my fangs from the young woman's body and lift her gently in my arms. Her raven hair drapes gently over my arm and tickles my wrist as I lay her in the curtained bed that takes up most of the guest room. She murmurs slightly and nestles into the silk pillow.

Her blood was delicious and it was all I could do to restrain myself from draining the rest. But Katarina will be waiting in the anteroom and I am eager to return to her for some dancing, not a murder investigation. Just then, my phone rings (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTMRtIrMCbA) and I look at the number: Bishop Montreaux. His deep voice rasps through the line: "You wanted ya friend, Michael all alone, yeah? He's just leavin my confession. It's a dark night, and his soul be free from sin, should anythin happen to it. Remember this, my friend, when next I call you."

Is the girl going to die? Do you care?

Tell me about Michael. Is his soul normally free from sin? If not, could it ever be made so, or is this some sort of sick joke?

What do you say? What do you do?


*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

I groan slightly as I slowly realise I'm no longer asleep. The bed is warm and I'm entangled in the arms of my lover. Through the open window I can hear faint sounds of a city not quite asleep. It was warm earlier, but now the September air carries a distinct chill. Next to me on the dresser my phone buzzes against the hardwood. I really don't want to get up.

*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

I try and blink the grog out of my eyes, the result of more than just sleep. Next to me I notice Cornelio smells good. Really good! Under the aromas of sweat, wine and vodka I think it's the cologne Silvia gave him for his birthday. What the hell kind of time is it, anyway? We must have been out drinking until 2.30am.

*bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!* *bzzzzzt!*

3am. ****. Luckily Cornelio's a much heavier sleeper than me, especially when he's had a few. I gently disentangle myself and then snatch up my 8210. The insistent rattle of red plastic on oak immediate dies to a quiet purr in my hand and I pull on the first thing that comes to hand as I cross the room - Cornelio's room; Cornelio's shirt - to the short entrance hall. I close the door behind me and then lean against it for support as the room spins briefly, the after-effects of two bottles of wine and a line of white making themselves known. I close my eyes tightly and wait for it to pass.

*brrrr!* *brrrr!* *brrr-

"Yes?" I answer quietly.

"Serafina! I've found a drop." I'm immediately more alert. I start buttoning up my shirt, but then change my mind, letting it slip to the floor. Where'd I leave my dress?

"Vorbis? You have! When? Where?" Still quiet, but urgent now.

I return to the studio, hunting for my underwear - there! - bra - there! - and dress. No, those're Cornelio's chinos. Ah, there it is.

"Parco degli Aquadotti. Vialo Appio Claudio, 4am by the Cuba Libre club."

I hang up abruptly and toss my phone into my clutch. One leg into my dress I have second thoughts - I'm just going to have to change into my leathers in the Miura anyway - isn't that always fun? (Crib notes: car's tiny.) I'm not going to be anyone in the lifts this time of night.

I toss the dress over my shoulder and kiss Cornelio goodbye. He'll understand - I rarely stay all night. But I had hoped to last a little more of this one.


Cornelio:
https://momentumoffailure.files.wordpress.com/2009/04/picture-15.png

Cornelio's place:
http://www.moveandstay.com/picture_bedroom/al_faris_3_hotel_apartments_36552_3.JPG


What do you pack when you leave? Where do you pack it? Do you drive around with a boot full of weird and illegal guns?

How do you drive? Fast and crazy, in the French style? Does immortality make you reckless? Or is a car accident - and the fire that it might bring - scary enough to put some caution in you?

How long does it take you to get where you're going?


It had been comfortably quiet in the little library, perfect for a little light reading. Not anymore though. Adolfo Rossini stared at the ringing block of plastic in his hands for a moment before remembering that he actually had to press a button to finish the connection. The cellphone didn't usually get calls; everyone in the church relied on landlines, and his granddaughters usually sent him messages through text, which was apparently the hip new thing.

"Adolfo?" came the unusually brittle voice of Prefect Oriol "The Pope. Pain in two fingers on the left hand. You must find a cure for this... thing." The line went dead.

There was no need to ask what the Prefect had meant. Vampires weren't particularly susceptible to disease, and there was only one thing the church did not have some solution for. Some kind of metaphysical cancer, pervasive, insistent. It had started showing up a few years ago, before the world had begun to turn upside-down around them, claiming lives seemingly at random.

And now the Pope was the latest victim.

He closed his book and started down the stairs to his sanctum. This was a wonderful opportunity of course. Curing the Pope would be seen as a bona fide miracle. On the other hand, there was still another, what, eleven years on his term? A chance like this wouldn't come again, and everyone had skin in this game. The door was open, and a mysterious death wouldn't be so mysterious anymore. Who else would Oriol call? Delacroix probably, Montreaux, Paszek. The other members of the Prefecture. Likely it. No telling how fast the rumours would spread though.

The phone chirped again. Text message. Adolfo stopped and tapped through to read it. "Boss found someone standby donato" wasn't very informative, but at least this Donato had used full words. Boss was almost guaranteed to be Monti. Interesting, but not urgent.

He opened the sanctum door and flicked on the lights. Now, how does one cure an incurable disease?

What do I need to create a cure for the Pope?

Why are you asking me? You're the wizard. They wouldn't have called you if this wasn't something you had on hand, something you could solve just like that. You're the only person in the entire city who could get that call in the middle of this night and be reasonably expected to have an answer. Why is that? Did you kill the competition, or what?

Why do you think that this is a disease, by the way? Could it be a poison? Could it be an assassination - or could it be the subtle mind of the Pope feigning weakness to spark a succession crisis early so he can wipe out his revealed rivals? Is he sharp enough for that?

Either way, if you really want that cure, roll Sanctum Sanctorum.

[Anarion]

Is the girl going to die? Do you care?

Tell me about Michael. Is his soul normally free from sin? If not, could it ever be made so, or is this some sort of sick joke?

What do you say? What do you do?


She's not going to die. At least, I don't think she is, if things go south at some point you might end up telling me differently, but I held back and didn't drain her dry. I try not to be a murderer, it's important to me to establish some lines. Things go wrong sometimes, of course, but those are accidents that don't have the same ill intent behind them as a real murderer. It's important to me that there's a distinction. If things work out, she'll wake up feeling a huge rush from being that close to a vampire, will half believe it's a dream, but see the unfamiliar bed and wonder what she ended up doing with me the past night. Then she'll come back to the next party. I'm not quite sure who she is though. I think she was some merchant's daughter, maybe? Someone rich most likely, tickets to my parties require either a personal connection or a great deal of money and she didn't say anyone had invited her when we spoke.

Anyway, about Michael. He's a Kabbalist, so no he's not typically free from sin. He's also a good Christian though, so he goes to confession and gets absolved by a father once a week and in theory. But really Montreaux was joking. He knows I might kill the guy, we had enough encounters in the Caribbean. Montreaux himself tried to make a zombie once from one of the folks I left in a stupor. I think it worked actually, don't know what happened to the man, he was our cab driver at the time. I'm after Michael because he knows about this angel summoning thing, at the very least the location where it's happening and I'm going to pry it out of him.

On my end, I speak softly in my lyrical Italian and say "thank you, Father, for your kindness. You know I am always at your disposal and the disposal of all God's children who have need of me." I hear him laugh on the other end and then it clicks. He's hung up, probably going to bed, it's late already and he has parishioners visiting in the morning. I, on the other hand, grab my leather overcoat (custom-tailored of course) and head out into the fall night air with a hint of chill to it. The church that Michael left isn't far from my home and I aim to hunt him and catch him alone in the streets.

In fact, that's where I am now, walking briskly through the streets in my collared shirt and khakis with my leather overcoat on. I don't think it should be hard to find him, what do I need to do to make it happen?

[RCgothic]

What do you pack when you leave? Where do you pack it? Do you drive around with a boot full of weird and illegal guns?

How do you drive? Fast and crazy, in the French style? Does immortality make you reckless? Or is a car accident - and the fire that it might bring - scary enough to put some caution in you?

How long does it take you to get where you're going?

Hey! My guns aren't weird! But yes, I do drive around with a boot full of illegal weapons, so there's no need to pack; That task's already done. I had to have it specially modified so that Joyeuse would fit - a diagonal projection down through a narrow space in the engine compartment. It's a rather inglorious resting place for the fabled sword, but it works rather nicely. In addition to the weapons the boot contains a hold-all with a change of clothes, my metal-reinforced dueling leathers and several spare loaded magazines.

The parking garage seems empty, so I change in the open, tossing my Mac-11 on the passenger seat.

I have little patience for speed limits. But I do have concerns beyond my own personal safety.

For a start, whilst the police are generally tolerant of a little extra speed (I had a conversation with an officer at a party once: There's a stark divide between regular cops and roads cops. Regular cops don't like to pull people over. They're rarely up to speed with traffic legislation or things like the procedures for seizing vehicles, and don't much like being presented with opportunities to make fools of themselves. Roads cops generally aren't found in the municipos - too quiet.), I don't want to force them to act by taking the piss. Whilst I could almost certainly get off whatever charge they tried to make stick with a phone call to grandfather, or evade them altogether with my V12 engine, getting arrested would be an unacceptable delay, and a chase brings us nicely into the second reason I don't speed too badly: unwarranted risk to my Miura. I'm all for putting pedal to metal if the situation calls for it, but this baby is expensive to repair and practically irreplaceable. I'm not in so much of a hurry that I needed to cut loose.

From Cornelio's place in Spanish Steps to Parco Degli Aquadotti is half an hour for someone obeying the speed limits this time of night. For me it takes 25, making it about twenty to four on my arrival. I park up on Tito Labieno so as to not be conspicuous and make myself prepared. Mac-11 goes on my right hip. Joyeuse hangs in its scabbard from my left. Spare magazines clip to my belt wherever there's space, and I carry my M16 - though it's on a sling that can be quickly transferred to my back. I set off across the park, keeping to the shadows of the ruins and the trees. It's nearing the meet time and there may already be sentries in place. I note that whatever the package is it has to be small - there isn't really good vehicle access. I'm on my guard as I approach the club.

[Madcrafter]

Why are you asking me? You're the wizard. They wouldn't have called you if this wasn't something you had on hand, something you could solve just like that. You're the only person in the entire city who could get that call in the middle of this night and be reasonably expected to have an answer. Why is that? Did you kill the competition, or what?Hah, they called me because I'm in-house, and I've been watching Cardinal Lorenzo for the past few months. He's the only other "important" person to have suffered from it so far. A cure has only been of academic importance until now, but pressure is going to be building with the Pope involved. Who knows how long it will be before someone tries something desperate, an ill-advised intercession?

As for the competition, the church doesn't have any for my job. No true priest would pull himself out of the political game to go study theology and mysteries for a few decades. The closest we have is Father Desantis, one of the archivists and my assistant. He turned down the chance to move up in the hierarchy, wanted to remain mortal. Outside, there are likely some amateur magicians around the city, but I've never met any. Not surprising really, the church has a bit of a shaky history with sorcerers and witches.


Why do you think that this is a disease, by the way? Could it be a poison? Could it be an assassination - or could it be the subtle mind of the Pope feigning weakness to spark a succession crisis early so he can wipe out his revealed rivals? Is he sharp enough for that?Good point. I don't think anyone has though of the poison angle. The first reports of it were from some of the unsanctioned vampires in Bishop Montreaux's congregation, and who would want to bother poisoning them? But now that I think about it, they could have just been test subjects. It certainly isn't contagious like a normal disease. More like an auto-immune reaction, the body and soul turning against each other, picking away and decaying.

As for it being a feint from the Pope, he's definitely sharp enough for it. A bit out of character for him, he was never one for the dramatic moves. Desperate times do call for desperate measures though, and he must have been under a lot of pressure these last few months. Enough people, even in Rome, are losing faith in the church at a time like this, but I do have to wonder at the wisdom of a fake illness as a strategy.

In any case, a cure (antidote?) would still be quite handy to have. Sanctum Sanctorum: [roll0]

[Thanqol]

On my end, I speak softly in my lyrical Italian and say "thank you, Father, for your kindness. You know I am always at your disposal and the disposal of all God's children who have need of me." I hear him laugh on the other end and then it clicks. He's hung up, probably going to bed, it's late already and he has parishioners visiting in the morning. I, on the other hand, grab my leather overcoat (custom-tailored of course) and head out into the fall night air with a hint of chill to it. The church that Michael left isn't far from my home and I aim to hunt him and catch him alone in the streets.

In fact, that's where I am now, walking briskly through the streets in my collared shirt and khakis with my leather overcoat on. I don't think it should be hard to find him, what do I need to do to make it happen?

Sure. Let's talk Michael. He's just this dude, walking down the street, doesn't look like much. But behind him he's got this... guy who looks like a street lamp wearing an overcoat; long and thin and not quite human. It's something to do with the Wild; Want to put a face to a name?


From Cornelio's place in Spanish Steps to Parco Degli Aquadotti is half an hour for someone obeying the speed limits this time of night. For me it takes 25, making it about twenty to four on my arrival. I park up on Tito Labieno so as to not be conspicuous and make myself prepared. Mac-11 goes on my right hip. Joyeuse hangs in its scabbard from my left. Spare magazines clip to my belt wherever there's space, and I carry my M16 - though it's on a sling that can be quickly transferred to my back. I set off across the park, keeping to the shadows of the ruins and the trees. It's nearing the meet time and there may already be sentries in place. I note that whatever the package is it has to be small - there isn't really good vehicle access. I'm on my guard as I approach the club.

So there are two great big bouncers in front of the club, dudes with that unhealthy bright tinge to their eyes that says they're ghouls. They body block you from getting in. They're not the usual guys. What do you do?


As for it being a feint from the Pope, he's definitely sharp enough for it. A bit out of character for him, he was never one for the dramatic moves. Desperate times do call for desperate measures though, and he must have been under a lot of pressure these last few months. Enough people, even in Rome, are losing faith in the church at a time like this, but I do have to wonder at the wisdom of a fake illness as a strategy.

In any case, a cure (antidote?) would still be quite handy to have. Sanctum Sanctorum: [roll0]

So you've got it, one dose of a cure for anything - a little flask of blood from an Emperor. Pure bottled health. No vampiric disease can survive it.

But you only have the one, so you might want to hesitate before you hand it over. First off, if the Pope just gets poisoned again you're in trouble - or if there's something else you don't know about this situation you might do more harm than good. If you want to investigate this further you either need access to the Pope's person, and all sorts of invasive tests - and you're probably not going to get that - or you need to do some good old fashioned detective work. What do you do?

[Anarion]

Sure. Let's talk Michael. He's just this dude, walking down the street, doesn't look like much. But behind him he's got this... guy who looks like a street lamp wearing an overcoat; long and thin and not quite human. It's something to do with the Wild; Want to put a face to a name?


Bah, the most worthless of factions. But I'll still do it.
[roll0]

[RCgothic]

So there are two great big bouncers in front of the club, dudes with that unhealthy bright tinge to their eyes that says they're ghouls. They body block you from getting in. They're not the usual guys. What do you do?

Impertinent corpse-suckers. Naturally I point my silenced Mac-11 at them and empty the magazine.

Unleash: [roll0]
Inflict Terrible Harm - 5 harm Area total. Needs reload, 2 magazines remaining.

[Madcrafter]

So you've got it, one dose of a cure for anything - a little flask of blood from an Emperor. Pure bottled health. No vampiric disease can survive it.

But you only have the one, so you might want to hesitate before you hand it over. First off, if the Pope just gets poisoned again you're in trouble - or if there's something else you don't know about this situation you might do more harm than good. If you want to investigate this further you either need access to the Pope's person, and all sorts of invasive tests - and you're probably not going to get that - or you need to do some good old fashioned detective work. What do you do?Well that had been easier then expected. Though Emperor's blood was a bit hard to come by these days. Best make sure this bottle stayed safe. He slipped it into one of the hollow books and placed it back on the shelf.

If this wasn't just the ordinary course of nature however, best to be prepared. He rummaged through his desk for the folder of newspaper clippings, and slid a selection into another envelope, signed with "A concerned Citizen". Quickly changing into some ordinary clothes, he tucked the envelope into his jacket and walked the maze-like route out onto the street. Waiting at the bus stop, he pulled out his cellphone again, and tapped slowly at the keys.

Serafina:
Are you busy?

[Thanqol]

Bah, the most worthless of factions. But I'll still do it.
[6]

You don't know this guy, and that in itself is a worry. Most vampires telegraph their arrivals so they don't get murdered within the first few days but that thing is a total blank. The more you look at it the less human it looks, its limbs are too thin, you cant see its face behind the hood but it seems to glow. It's following your guy diligently. What do you do?


Impertinent corpse-suckers. Naturally I point my silenced Mac-11 at them and empty the magazine.

Unleash: [roll0]
Inflict Terrible Harm - 5 harm Area total. Needs reload, 2 magazines remaining.

Goddamn. No warning, nothing - they weren't expecting that and you blow them to nothing, as well as the wall and door behind them. Bits of masonry crumbles to the ground in shards. There are panicked shouts coming from inside - they know you're coming now. What do you do?


Well that had been easier then expected. Though Emperor's blood was a bit hard to come by these days. Best make sure this bottle stayed safe. He slipped it into one of the hollow books and placed it back on the shelf.

If this wasn't just the ordinary course of nature however, best to be prepared. He rummaged through his desk for the folder of newspaper clippings, and slid a selection into another envelope, signed with "A concerned Citizen". Quickly changing into some ordinary clothes, he tucked the envelope into his jacket and walked the maze-like route out onto the street. Waiting at the bus stop, he pulled out his cellphone again, and tapped slowly at the keys.

Serafina:
Are you busy?

Where are you heading to? Nothing blocking you from getting there, so you can arrive where you want.

Serafina, seconds after you blow away two dudes like they're nothing you get a text from the cardinal.

[RCgothic]

Goddamn. No warning, nothing - they weren't expecting that and you blow them to nothing, as well as the wall and door behind them. Bits of masonry crumbles to the ground in shards. There are panicked shouts coming from inside - they know you're coming now. What do you do?

Serafina, seconds after you blow away two dudes like they're nothing you get a text from the cardinal.

I look around for a way up onto the roof. The bloodshed at the front door should make for a momentary distraction, and if I'm swift, silent and clever I can use that to my advantage to work my way deeper inside. At a minimum I need to know who's behind this deal - and if I'm lucky what they're dealing.

I feel my phone vibrate against my skin but here's no way I'm checking it until I've bought myself a little space in the shadows to regroup and reload.

[Anarion]

You don't know this guy, and that in itself is a worry. Most vampires telegraph their arrivals so they don't get murdered within the first few days but that thing is a total blank. The more you look at it the less human it looks, its limbs are too thin, you cant see its face behind the hood but it seems to glow. It's following your guy diligently. What do you do?


Ah, Madona! The Bishop said he was alone. Alone means not followed by a non-human! He'll be hearing about this if he ever tries to call in that favor. I was in a very warm bed with a very warm woman before that phone call. Let's run through this. Shooting him without knowing him would be unwise, I'd make enemies. I could stop to talk to him, but Michael might get away. I could make a move on Michael, but this fellow might come for me. The best path might be to throw him off the trail. Let's see, it's the streets of Rome, mostly cobbles lights not spaced very far apart. I race ahead of them and throw a stone into the streetlight a block of ahead of where Michael is going, then tumble over a trash can in a side street as though someone were fleeing that way. I myself hide in the shadows along the edge of a marble column in front of one of the buildings. If either of them break off from the other, that's when I'll make my move on Michael.

[Distraction [roll0]
[I pick create an opportunity and confuse for some time.]

[Madcrafter]

Where are you heading to? Nothing blocking you from getting there, so you can arrive where you want.Cardinal Rossini was headed to the offices of Della Città, a small local daily newspaper, to drop off his envelope with the mail. Inside are various clippings about the deaths in Bishop Montreaux's congregation, as well as some other news and science articles that could lead someone to believe that the church's chalice might be a source of metal poisoning. Incite some concern, and the chalice would be recalled back to Rossini while it was being tested. It would be the most likely vector for any parishioner poisoning, but asking for it directly following the Pope's illness would raise suspicion. He didn't want to take any drastic action so early, best to see what developed over the next few days as the rumours spread.

After that though, it was back the way he had come, with a stop at a 24h bookseller. Adolfo was going to visit Youssef Abdel, who, if God willed, would have some oracular insight into the situation. The old Copt lived in an bricked in alcove that had once belonged to a statue in the outer wall of a church, but had been retrofitted for his use with a few modern conveniences. He had a little window that looked down onto the piazza outside, with a platform outside for pilgrims to stand on while they talked to him.

Cardinal Rossini was not optimistic about the chances of divine revelation on his visit, but Mr. Abdel did in fact have real visions from time to time, and so it was Rossini's job to check in every so often. He was loitering in the neighbourhood in case Donato called back anyways, might as well bring the anchorite some reading material. Grunting with effort, he pulled himself up the trellis onto the platform, and gave the window a few taps.

"Good evening Youssef." he called to the glass. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

[Thanqol]

I look around for a way up onto the roof. The bloodshed at the front door should make for a momentary distraction, and if I'm swift, silent and clever I can use that to my advantage to work my way deeper inside. At a minimum I need to know who's behind this deal - and if I'm lucky what they're dealing.

I feel my phone vibrate against my skin but here's no way I'm checking it until I've bought myself a little space in the shadows to regroup and reload.

There's the sound of gunfire - some people inside have just sprayed some bullets onto the street at random in case there's anything to kill there. You're already climbing up onto the roof so you're clear from that, but from here you can see three black SUVs driving rapidly towards the door to provide backup. What do you do?


Ah, Madona! The Bishop said he was alone. Alone means not followed by a non-human! He'll be hearing about this if he ever tries to call in that favor. I was in a very warm bed with a very warm woman before that phone call. Let's run through this. Shooting him without knowing him would be unwise, I'd make enemies. I could stop to talk to him, but Michael might get away. I could make a move on Michael, but this fellow might come for me. The best path might be to throw him off the trail. Let's see, it's the streets of Rome, mostly cobbles lights not spaced very far apart. I race ahead of them and throw a stone into the streetlight a block of ahead of where Michael is going, then tumble over a trash can in a side street as though someone were fleeing that way. I myself hide in the shadows along the edge of a marble column in front of one of the buildings. If either of them break off from the other, that's when I'll make my move on Michael.

[Distraction [roll0]
[I pick create an opportunity and confuse for some time.]

The tall figure abruptly straightens, and even though it had not raised itself to its full height for a moment it was almost two and a half meters tall. It stalked off, fingers hooked forwards like a raptor, towards the source of the noise, shining some concealed flashlight ahead of it in sweeping search patterns. Michael hesitated before cautiously going after it, but there was more distance between them than there was before. You have an opening, what do you do?


After that though, it was back the way he had come, with a stop at a 24h bookseller. Adolfo was going to visit Youssef Abdel, who, if God willed, would have some oracular insight into the situation. The old Copt lived in an bricked in alcove that had once belonged to a statue in the outer wall of a church, but had been retrofitted for his use with a few modern conveniences. He had a little window that looked down onto the piazza outside, with a platform outside for pilgrims to stand on while they talked to him.

Cardinal Rossini was not optimistic about the chances of divine revelation on his visit, but Mr. Abdel did in fact have real visions from time to time, and so it was Rossini's job to check in every so often. He was loitering in the neighbourhood in case Donato called back anyways, might as well bring the anchorite some reading material. Grunting with effort, he pulled himself up the trellis onto the platform, and gave the window a few taps.

"Good evening Youssef." he called to the glass. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"I do," said Youssef, old and hunched, with a hooked nose and a beady stare. "But it will cost. What do you want?

[Anarion]

The tall figure abruptly straightens, and even though it had not raised itself to its full height for a moment it was almost two and a half meters tall. It stalked off, fingers hooked forwards like a raptor, towards the source of the noise, shining some concealed flashlight ahead of it in sweeping search patterns. Michael hesitated before cautiously going after it, but there was more distance between them than there was before. You have an opening, what do you do?


"Michael, my friend, fancy meeting you here at this time of night." I've walked up to him while he's distracted and put my arm around his shoulder. We are such good friends. "How is business, hmm? Still keeping the doors open and the children fed with your gemstones?" And there's' the reminder: his store would have been bulldozed for a chain restaurant if not for me. He knows it, I know it, and there isn't time to beat around the bush on this with whatever that thing is in the alley likely to be back all too soon. "I certainly hope you're doing well. You've got a gathering of 'friends' you see regularly, so I've heard, and I would like to know where they will be meeting. Can you tell me that, Michael? I would so be so grateful."

[RCgothic]

There's the sound of gunfire - some people inside have just sprayed some bullets onto the street at random in case there's anything to kill there. You're already climbing up onto the roof so you're clear from that, but from here you can see three black SUVs driving rapidly towards the door to provide backup. What do you do?

So the people inside are spraying gunfire carelessly, and I know there are probably two factions here tonight making an exchange. Let's see if I can stoke this fire a little bit.

I press myself flat against the roof, using it's geometry as cover. I reload my machine pistol as quickly as possible, and then dig my phone out of a hip pocket. No time to read grandfather's text, instead I dial 113. I don't bother to wait for it to connect, placing the open line back in my pocket. The police ought to get a kick out of this!

I line up a short burst of fire on the driver of the lead SUV, and then retreat behind the curvature of the roof before the others can disembark.

Unleash [roll0] 4-harm
Take something from them: awareness/discipline
Find myself in a bad spot.

[Madcrafter]

"I do," said Youssef, old and hunched, with a hooked nose and a beady stare. "But it will cost. What do you want?"Perhaps you do not see the world spiralling out of control from your window, but I assure you that it is. You know you do no righteous good by hoarding your gifts when they could be of help to so many. But we can start simple: fiction or non-fiction?" He held the books against the sill. Christianity in the Levant: The 16th Century, and The Poisonwood Bible.

[Thanqol]

"Michael, my friend, fancy meeting you here at this time of night." I've walked up to him while he's distracted and put my arm around his shoulder. We are such good friends. "How is business, hmm? Still keeping the doors open and the children fed with your gemstones?" And there's' the reminder: his store would have been bulldozed for a chain restaurant if not for me. He knows it, I know it, and there isn't time to beat around the bush on this with whatever that thing is in the alley likely to be back all too soon. "I certainly hope you're doing well. You've got a gathering of 'friends' you see regularly, so I've heard, and I would like to know where they will be meeting. Can you tell me that, Michael? I would so be so grateful."

Do you have a debt on this guy? If you do, and call it in, Persuade at a +3, otherwise just Persuade.


So the people inside are spraying gunfire carelessly, and I know there are probably two factions here tonight making an exchange. Let's see if I can stoke this fire a little bit.

I press myself flat against the roof, using it's geometry as cover. I reload my machine pistol as quickly as possible, and then dig my phone out of a hip pocket. No time to read grandfather's text, instead I dial 113. I don't bother to wait for it to connect, placing the open line back in my pocket. The police ought to get a kick out of this!

I line up a short burst of fire on the driver of the lead SUV, and then retreat behind the curvature of the roof before the others can disembark.

Unleash [roll0] 4-harm
Take something from them: awareness/discipline
Find myself in a bad spot.

So this shootout has just escalated beyond all reason and there are police sirens howling in the background, everything is chaos.

But you find that you suddenly can't move. The tiles of the roof have turned to some kind of sticky syrup and have congealed around your boots, binding you in place. The entire building is dripping apart like wax.


"Perhaps you do not see the world spiralling out of control from your window, but I assure you that it is. You know you do no righteous good by hoarding your gifts when they could be of help to so many. But we can start simple: fiction or non-fiction?" He held the books against the sill. Christianity in the Levant: The 16th Century, and The Poisonwood Bible.

"The world is ending," cackled Youssef. "The spiral is complete. The only question left is who will die with enough coin to bribe the angels."

[Anarion]

Do you have a debt on this guy? If you do, and call it in, Persuade at a +3, otherwise just Persuade.


Yep, I'm calling in the old debt. This is important information and I expect a meaningful answer from him. That's why I reminded him of his business, which he owes me for saving. [roll0]

[RCgothic]

So this shootout has just escalated beyond all reason and there are police sirens howling in the background, everything is chaos.

But you find that you suddenly can't move. The tiles of the roof have turned to some kind of sticky syrup and have congealed around your boots, binding you in place. The entire building is dripping apart like wax.


Oh wow. This is certainly something new. I hurry to undo my straps. Luckily I'm wearing socks, so I've got just two steps to throw myself off a building. Just what I wanted when I got up this morning! On the plus side, a building melting around their ears means my targets will be leaving too.

I wiggle my feet free, standing on my boots and cooling myself to spring. I plan my route out in advance: Step one, roof edge; Step two, Terrace railing; Lower my shoulder and roll! With any luck I'll come up in the hedgerow by the side door.

[Madcrafter]

"The world is ending," cackled Youssef. "The spiral is complete. The only question left is who will die with enough coin to bribe the angels."Hmph. Was he being a little more crackpot-ish than usual?

"Common knowledge Youssef, even the tourists you talk to know that. If you really haven't seen anything helpful, you can just say so. I know visions can be inconsistent."

[Thanqol]

Yep, I'm calling in the old debt. This is important information and I expect a meaningful answer from him. That's why I reminded him of his business, which he owes me for saving. [14]

The guy crumples when he realizes he can't get out of this one. "They're meeting at the conference hall that overlooks the mouth of the Tiber," he says, seeming to crumple when he realizes that he has just lost his own chance for salvation. You've got time for maybe one more question before the creature comes back. What do you do?


Oh wow. This is certainly something new. I hurry to undo my straps. Luckily I'm wearing socks, so I've got just two steps to throw myself off a building. Just what I wanted when I got up this morning! On the plus side, a building melting around their ears means my targets will be leaving too.

I wiggle my feet free, standing on my boots and cooling myself to spring. I plan my route out in advance: Step one, roof edge; Step two, Terrace railing; Lower my shoulder and roll! With any luck I'll come up in the hedgerow by the side door.

They don't follow you, they're too busy piling into their cars and putting the pedal to the metal. Police sirens are closing in. Split seconds to respond. What do you do?


Hmph. Was he being a little more crackpot-ish than usual?

"Common knowledge Youssef, even the tourists you talk to know that. If you really haven't seen anything helpful, you can just say so. I know visions can be inconsistent."

"I am not being metaphorical," said Youssef, "a member of the Heavenly Host is arriving tonight on the Tiber's mouth, and for any soul seeking to be spared the final judgement he is your last and best chance."

[Anarion]

The guy crumples when he realizes he can't get out of this one. "They're meeting at the conference hall that overlooks the mouth of the Tiber," he says, seeming to crumple when he realizes that he has just lost his own chance for salvation. You've got time for maybe one more question before the creature comes back. What do you do?


One question?! I want to know everything about this: what powers the angel has, how the ritual will be done, what significance the place and time hold, what they hope to gain from all this madness, why people are calling it the end of the world in all the rumors? But then again, Michael here, he probably does not know all these things. He's a small player, a business man that spends his free time with the Kabbalists and thinks to find transcendence.

"Thank you Michael. One more question before I go. Who is leading the ritual?"

[Madcrafter]

"I am not being metaphorical," said Youssef, "a member of the Heavenly Host is arriving tonight on the Tiber's mouth, and for any soul seeking to be spared the final judgement he is your last and best chance."Adolfo blinked at him in surprise. "That... in Ostia? Why not some holier place?" Then it hit him. This was probably that ritual, which might explain why it wasn't in Rome proper. Nowhere near Monti's territory at all. He shoved both books towards Youssef, and fished for his phone in his pocket. "Do you know anything more?"

[RCgothic]

They don't follow you, they're too busy piling into their cars and putting the pedal to the metal. Police sirens are closing in. Split seconds to respond. What do you do?


****! If they escape without managing to at least put faces to names then this will all have been for nothing. I swing my carbine up to my shoulder and unload a magazine at the departing cars, hoping to disable one or more of them. Then I'll have to melt back into the shadows and see what pieces of this situation I can pick up.

Unleash - rolling blood [roll0] 4-harm area, magazine depleted.
Miss

Ranged weapon status: M16 needs reload, 1 magazine remaining. Mac11 loaded, 2 magazines.

[Thanqol]

One question?! I want to know everything about this: what powers the angel has, how the ritual will be done, what significance the place and time hold, what they hope to gain from all this madness, why people are calling it the end of the world in all the rumors? But then again, Michael here, he probably does not know all these things. He's a small player, a business man that spends his free time with the Kabbalists and thinks to find transcendence.

"Thank you Michael. One more question before I go. Who is leading the ritual?"

"Who else? Archbishop Kondrusiewicz," said Michael, absolutely mangling the pronunciation.


Adolfo blinked at him in surprise. "That... in Ostia? Why not some holier place?" Then it hit him. This was probably that ritual, which might explain why it wasn't in Rome proper. Nowhere near Monti's territory at all. He shoved both books towards Youssef, and fished for his phone in his pocket. "Do you know anything more?"

"I know that the angel is fat and corrupt and more treacherous than any demon," said Youssef. "Watch him because he'll pick your pocket and call it a miracle."


****! If they escape without managing to at least put faces to names then this will all have been for nothing. I swing my carbine up to my shoulder and unload a magazine at the departing cars, hoping to disable one or more of them. Then I'll have to melt back into the shadows and see what pieces of this situation I can pick up.

Unleash - rolling blood [roll0] 4-harm area, magazine depleted.
Miss

Ranged weapon status: M16 needs reload, 1 magazine remaining. Mac11 loaded, 2 magazines.

Unfortunately a regular police car with two uniforms comes screeching around the corner, blocking your line of fire. They see you've got an assault rifle and back up rapidly, calling in backup and taking cover. The SUVs are rolling away down the road. What do you do?

[Anarion]

"Archbishop Kondrusiewicz" I say, pronouncing it perfectly. "Thank you Michaelangelo, you've been most helpful. If we all remain here come morning, please say hello to your wife for me. And your daughter, she must be nearly 12 now, delightful girl I'm sure. Give her my best."

And with that, I leave him and stroll off into the night. I am, of course, headed straight for the conference hall and I break into a run as soon as I turn the corner. There really isn't time for anything else. I am not concerned with Michael for now, though I do hope whatever that creature with him was is not cruel to him. My concern now is making it to the summoning. To be honest with you, I don't not know fully what I will do when I arrive. I have heard the rumors that the angel can reveal any secret, of course, and there are things I would be most eager to know, but really I think that I wish to avoid being left out of the great movements of the powerful and have engineered my way to this hall simply to be present at the moment the angel is called.

[RCgothic]

Damn it! Damn Damn Damn! I'm not about to open fire on a police car just because it's in my way. It's time to call this mission a bust. I immediately back up into the shadows, and as soon as I think I'm clear I start sprinting across the park, using trees and hedges as cover.

[Madcrafter]

"I know that the angel is fat and corrupt and more treacherous than any demon," said Youssef. "Watch him because he'll pick your pocket and call it a miracle."If that proves true, then it is no angel that they bring into this world. I need to find out exactly where this is happening and get there as soon as possible. Excuse me." Phone in hand, he jumped down from the platform to the street. "We will talk another time!" he called with a wave towards the window.

Monti's man, what was his name, had said that they had found someone who might know. But first, he had to wake up Father Desantis. He dialed the number and put it to his ear as he jogged towards Piazza Navona.

[Thanqol]

"Archbishop Kondrusiewicz" I say, pronouncing it perfectly. "Thank you Michaelangelo, you've been most helpful. If we all remain here come morning, please say hello to your wife for me. And your daughter, she must be nearly 12 now, delightful girl I'm sure. Give her my best."

And with that, I leave him and stroll off into the night. I am, of course, headed straight for the conference hall and I break into a run as soon as I turn the corner. There really isn't time for anything else. I am not concerned with Michael for now, though I do hope whatever that creature with him was is not cruel to him. My concern now is making it to the summoning. To be honest with you, I don't not know fully what I will do when I arrive. I have heard the rumors that the angel can reveal any secret, of course, and there are things I would be most eager to know, but really I think that I wish to avoid being left out of the great movements of the powerful and have engineered my way to this hall simply to be present at the moment the angel is called.


"If that proves true, then it is no angel that they bring into this world. I need to find out exactly where this is happening and get there as soon as possible. Excuse me." Phone in hand, he jumped down from the platform to the street. "We will talk another time!" he called with a wave towards the window.

Monti's man, what was his name, had said that they had found someone who might know. But first, he had to wake up Father Desantis. He dialed the number and put it to his ear as he jogged towards Piazza Navona.

By chance or fate, the two of you spy each other as you both approach the Piazza. The great marble fountain with its ancient sculptures glows and pulses, as though feeling the approaching footprints of a mighty giant. The magic and the scent of blood hangs in the air, thick and ruddy.

Father Desantis is on the line; who is he and what's his deal?


Damn it! Damn Damn Damn! I'm not about to open fire on a police car just because it's in my way. It's time to call this mission a bust. I immediately back up into the shadows, and as soon as I think I'm clear I start sprinting across the park, using trees and hedges as cover.

Sounds like you're rolling to Escape!

[Anarion]

"Father Rossini" Marco calls and waves as they spy each other and crosses the Piazza to join the Cardinal. "Always a pleasure to keep your company. Young Katarina is well and I hope the church's business goes apace? Tell me though, it is a chilly night even for such as we, what brings you out to the banks of the Tiber at such an hour?"

[RCgothic]

Escape a Situation - Blood [roll0]
- Owe someone a debt.
- Give into base nature and Mark Corruption.

[Madcrafter]

By chance or fate, the two of you spy each other as you both approach the Piazza. The great marble fountain with its ancient sculptures glows and pulses, as though feeling the approaching footprints of a mighty giant. The magic and the scent of blood hangs in the air, thick and ruddy.

Father Desantis is on the line; who is he and what's his deal?
"Father Rossini" Marco calls and waves as they spy each other and crosses the Piazza to join the Cardinal. "Always a pleasure to keep your company. Young Katarina is well and I hope the church's business goes apace? Tell me though, it is a chilly night even for such as we, what brings you out to the banks of the Tiber at such an hour?"
Father Desantis is my assistant, the one who refused the call of the College. He's a built like a miniature linebacker, with short hair that makes the top of his skull look like it's been replaced with curved iron plate. Desantis is not a fan of the internal church politics, and likes to sneer at those cardinals who are big movers and shakers in this city. Not to anyone's face of course, like many clerics he's still a consummate professional in his normal duties. I like him personally; he has all those good qualities that vampires seem to lose when they let their positions get to their heads.

"Arno, I have reason to believe there is a heretical summoning that is going to occur tonight." Someone waves and calls out my name from across the piazza, and I wave back. "See what you can find in the library that might be helpful in the next twenty minutes, then take one of the cars and meet me at the Piazza Navona. Bring whatever you think we might need."

The waver gets close enough to be recognized as Marco, of all people. "Oh hello Marco. Supernatural business unfortunately, tends to happen on the worst nights. I could ask the same of you though, I would think you'd usually be snug at home on a evening such as this."

[Anarion]

The waver gets close enough to be recognized as Marco, of all people. "Oh hello Marco. Supernatural business unfortunately, tends to happen on the worst nights. I could ask the same of you though, I would think you'd usually be snug at home on a evening such as this."
"Supernatural business of course, Father. Likely the same as yours I would imagine. Such an event as we close upon tends to eclipse the more typical work of the night, wouldn't you say?"

[Madcrafter]

"Supernatural business of course, Father. Likely the same as yours I would imagine. Such an event as we close upon tends to eclipse the more typical work of the night, wouldn't you say?"Rossini look at him appraisingly for a moment. "The, uh, calling of a being from beyond?" he finally summoned. "Who is behind this? It sounds like they are in over their heads."

[Anarion]

Rossini look at him appraisingly for a moment. "The, uh, calling of a being from beyond?" he finally summoned. "Who is behind this? It sounds like they are in over their heads."

"Father, it seems our meeting is most fortuitous tonight. For you have an interest and I have the knowledge to feed it. I do hope that you will remember your humble servant Marco in the future. And remember with gratitude that he answered your question with a name: Archbishop Kondrusiewicz is the man you seek tonight."

[Madcrafter]

"Father, it seems our meeting is most fortuitous tonight. For you have an interest and I have the knowledge to feed it. I do hope that you will remember your humble servant Marco in the future. And remember with gratitude that he answered your question with a name: Archbishop Kondrusiewicz is the man you seek tonight."

"Kondrusiewicz, from Minsk." the cardinal repeated. "I greeted him when he arrived, but I don't remember his official business. Why are you so interested in this event anyways? You plainly mean to attend, but you're not involved, or else I doubt you would have given me his name so easily."

Rolling to Figure Marco Out: [roll0]
What’s Marco hoping to get from this ritual?

[Anarion]

What’s Marco hoping to get from this ritual?

Knowledge, and he's not sure beyond that. He wants, craves even, to be an insider, to enter the halls of power, and he hopes the angel will bear secrets on his enemies and rivals

"I learned of the ritual and thought to benefit, or to prevent it if it turned out to be a fool's errand, as the case may be," is what he answered aloud.

[Thanqol]

Escape a Situation - Blood [roll0]
- Owe someone a debt.
- Give into base nature and Mark Corruption.

Simply to unify these scenes, let us say that one of the other two players rescued you, and for that you owe them. Choose who. Now they have taken you to this temple on the Tiber where some manner of summoning taking place. What do you do?

[Anarion]

Simply to unify these scenes, let us say that one of the other two players rescued you, and for that you owe them. Choose who. Now they have taken you to this temple on the Tiber where some manner of summoning taking place. What do you do?

[Can I ask that when you choose, you explain a bit how we did it? Context will help with writing up further responses.]