VTM - a New Frontier?

[WindStruck]

Just as you finish your "morning" routine, having dressed and shaved that out-of-style mustache off your face, you get a call: a call you both relish receiving and yet at the same time fear with an empty pit in your stomach. It's your sire, Amos Flagg.

Or was that also your hunger? You were feeling a little hungry tonight. Your plans to hunt were most likely dashed by your sire.

"Whitcomb," he addresses you curtly, "there's something I want to show you. Meet me at my place, and don't keep me waiting."

Before you could utter much more than a 'yeah ok' or a 'yes sire' and ask what it was about, he hung up.

Well, what your sire wants, your sire gets, and you gladly do his bidding thanks to the long-standing blood bond between you two. Yet at the same time, you can only wonder what is it he wants this time. A part of you is reluctant to be a part of your master's scheming, but also scared to death at what would happen if you refused.

You know Flagg's current residence is in one of those new "loft" residences in the Callowhill area. Another "investment" idea of his. To be quite honest, you were doubtful and thought the whole thing was going to flop horribly, and yet it seems he's remained there for a while now, and business has been doing quite well - or so he claimed. Did he finally run into a problem he needed you to solve for him?

Looking around for the address, you find it: 1666 Callowhill St, Apt 404. Ah that's right. The big, square, red building. Only about two miles away from your own residence as the crow flies, but perhaps a three mile drive. And traffic usually isn't too terrible. It's only a few more minutes of preparation until you've left the safety of your haven. And no time to feed yet.

What other preparations do you take?

And how do get there?

[Toilet Cobra]

I have a few houses I like to use during the day- places where the family is careless, or often away, or not particularly observant. Yesterday however the first house I came to was alive with partygoers, and I hadn't had time to locate another one. So I spent some of my dwindling reserve of vitae to meld with the earth in that same house's back yard, thinking I would have plenty of time to feed when I awoke.

I shaved, using the moon's reflection in a birdbath to see what I was doing. Then Flagg called, and my hopes of a quick hunt were dashed. My stomach twisted with emptiness, but it could not be helped; he had commanded and I must obey. Perhaps he had a bottle or two tucked away he'd offer me? Depending on his mood he could be quite generous, though his tone over the phone gave me no reason to believe his mood was anything but dour. Even after all this time together, Flagg was a hard one to read. I couldn't lie to myself-- his call had made me nervous.

Nothing to do now but go. Might as well hoof it-- the night was young, and I needed some time to think. And there's never a cab in my neck of the woods, anyhow. I check that my gun is loaded and ready in its shoudler holster, then I pull up the collar on my jacket (a deerskin relic of older days that had gone amusingly in and out of fashion many times over the decades) and I begin walking, briskly, with long strides. I don't run at first, but I can't deny my orders, and so I push on with growing haste. I doubt Flagg would have made any arrangements for my entry into his building, so my first thought is to find a fire escape when I arrive and climb it to the fourth floor.

[WindStruck]

After about half an hour you arrive, finding Flagg milling around the front of the building pretending to smoke. Only God knows why he does this. His thick sideburns parted slightly, and he grinned at you with his stubbly beard and teeth that perhaps looked unnaturally sharp. "Corbin! How are you doing?" he said, greeting you warmly with a rough handshake. He definitely seemed to be in a good mood now. Even stranger that he called you by your first name. What the hell was going on?

Giving your sire the once over, he wore some old boots and a deerskin vest - also relics of the past - accompanied by a pair of faded jeans and a yellow flannel shirt. That, and a beat up cowboy hat, which you knew covered up his lupine ears. He looked like a cowboy wannabe with a terrible sense in fashion. Yup. That was totally him.

"So yeah, about that call. It sure was hard to keep a straight face. But I still wanna show you something," Flagg said, beckoning you to follow. And so you did. After perhaps only two or three minutes of silence, he began to monologue a bit. As he lead you down some more impoverished streets and alleyways, he talked of the past. He briefly talked about his time as a young buck when America was also young, and he touched on the times you and he had together. But it seemed he had a grander theme in mind tying it all together.

Feel free to make any of the following checks:
(Paranoia of anything in your surroundings): Alertness + Perception (unknown difficulty)
(What you think your sire is on about): Empathy + Perception (difficulty 6)
(Info about the area you are traveling through): Streetwise + Intelligence (difficulty 6)

Suddenly Flagg asks you a question, catching you off guard. "Do you know why this country prospered so much back then? Why it was the frontier that would make or break you? Could get him scalped by injuns or make him a billionaire?"

[Toilet Cobra]

I blinked in surprise. It was an odd question. "I suppose because the frontier was the only place that there was still no law," I said. It was pointless trying to guess what Flagg wanted to hear, so I fell back on my honest opinion. "After all, when you and I met, white men had not yet even stood on Californian soil. Washington was weak, and far away. Our wilderness seemed boundless, and the riches were there for the taking."

While we walked and talked, my attention was focused solely on my Sire. I did't believe this place or anyone in it posed a danger to me; in fact, if he were willing to fight at my side, I Flagg and I would be a challenge fit for even a bloodthirsty Garou. No, the danger wasn't around me, it was right in front of me. I'll never forget the many ghouls Flagg has cannibalized over the years, and I had no interest in joining their unhappy number.


Empathy + Perception, 3 Dice: [roll0]
Streetwise + Intelligence, 4 Dice: [roll1]

[WindStruck]

Empathy + Perception, 3 Dice: (3d10)[8][6][9](23)
3 successes

Based on your sire's chipper mood when meeting you in person, your initial thoughts were that he either got a lucky break and wanted to celebrate with you, or perhaps he did have some serious business but took a drink off of a particularly drunk person beforehand.

As he continued talking, however, drudging up the events of the past with nostalgia, there was one particular event you remember which he did not bring up before.. but which eerily reminded you of the present. This same excited mood he was in was just like when he'd thought he'd struck it rich in California with a huge mother load of a gold mine.

Unfortunately, Flagg was the poster child dupe when it came to fool's gold. So humiliating and devastating was the loss, that he frenzied and murdered nearly an entire town... and when he came out of it, his wolf ears were to stay, and he was so rattled, that he went clear back to the other side of the nation - to DC - .. until he was subsequently ousted from there as well.

You knew first-hand what you were dealing with. Your sire may have found a tremendous opportunity to improve his wealth or standing, but your gut told you it was too good to be true. And when the truth hit... well...


Streetwise + Intelligence, 4 Dice: (4d10)[7][8][1][10](26)
3 successes, but 1 is canceled. 2 successes.

It doesn't take a genius to tell you that this is a pretty bad neighborhood. You know for a fact that the crime rate is through the roof here. But you also know that many of these neglected buildings aren't entirely abandoned. If petty gangs and organized crime hasn't turned some place into a fugitive haven, odds are something much worse lurked in the shadows instead. So that leads you to wonder: what the hell is Flagg doing taking you through here?

Flagg stops and turns around to admire your answer with a sturgeon face. "Huh, I never thought of it like that..." he began before shaking his head and continuing walking. "I wouldn't say it was because there weren't no law though. Now I don't mean this fast talking, doublespeak, joke of a law these sycophants running the country call law... Sure, absence of that is a blessing."

"But without law, real law, there is no honor. Then all you got is a bunch of savages runnin' around murdering each other, and when you get a break, someone slits your throat in your sleep to take whats yours," your sire says, shaking his head again, with some resentful disdain in his voice.

He stops to look at you again with a smile. "You were right about one thing though. The riches were there for the taking. All it took were a few brave men to venture out into the unknown and make what was no man's theirs."

Uh oh... you just knew your sire was up to some cockeyed scheme, but what??

A moment later the two of you came to a place that looked like an abandoned auto repair shop. The place had just a modest gravel parking lot, surrounded by a chain-link fence and barbed wire jutting from the top. Flagg casually opened the padlock with his key and unwrapped the heavy chains from the gate, opening it.

"Yeah I know what you're thinking. Bad neighborhood and all. But I got this place cheap. Dirt cheap. The guy said it was haunted. Can you believe that load of porpoise hork?" he said with a guffaw.

On the surroundings you can try Alertness+Perception. Difficulty 8.
If you succeed, you may want to factor it into your next actions.

Also, at any time, feel free to make any other rolls you wish... so long as they make sense. :smalltongue:

[Toilet Cobra]

The mention of a haunting made my skin crawl. When Flagg had his back turned to me as he fiddled with the padlock, I quickly scanned my surroundings, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I'd never encountered a ghost, but I'd heard stories, and I was fearful of anything that couldn't be shot, clawed, or even placated.


Awareness + Perception, 4 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Results: you don't see ****. Wait. But on second thought, the mention of ghosts gives you the heebie-jeebies, and you start to think you see shadows moving in the windows of other buildings.

Wait! Something just moved inside the the old repair shop! But only after you react do you realize it was just your own silhouettes, cast by a nearby street lamp, reflecting off the glass.

[Toilet Cobra]

At the sight of the pale stranger watching me from inside the garage, I drop into a reflexive crouch. My right hand goes quickly to my revolver, and a hissss of warning escapes my lips.

Only when I see Flagg's condescending look do I realize that I've just been spooked by my own reflection, and made a fool of myself to boot. Sheepishly, I relax my stance and stuff my hands into the pockets of my jeans. Flagg just shakes his head at my display of nerves.

What mechanical effect would a gaffe like that have? Maybe a +1 difficulty to Social rolls involving Flagg for the night?

[WindStruck]

sure, that sound like a good effect!

At first Flagg was a little confused and perturbed at your own alarm, but he quickly realized you got scared by your own shadow, figuratively speaking. He just chuckled, shook his head and said, "I swear, Whitcomb, where in the world would you have been if I hadn't taken you under my wing..."

Perhaps a good question indeed. Who could say, really? Well, one thing is for sure. You'd definitely be dead now, being born in the 1780's.

Flagg laughs some more, casually walking up to the door and unlocking it.

"Anyway.. as I was saying..."

He walked inside. Then suddenly your sire stopped, dead in his tracks. "What the hell..."

He briskly moved to try turning on a light. That worked. Here in this small area that once must have served as a small lobby or waiting room, there wasn't much but a litter of some empty, flattened, cardboard boxes.

You followed inside, as Flagg quickly moved to the next room, which is where all the tools and cars would have normally been kept during the building's previous use. The lights flickered on in there, too. In this room there were some cheap wire shelves. Maybe made of aluminum, just your basic structures for storing more stuff in one spot. Some extension cords ran along the ground haphazardly and seemingly not connected to anything except maybe some wall outlets. On the shelves were...

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing. "Sshhhit!! Son of a bitch!!" Flagg exclaimed, yanking off his hat and throwing it into the ground as hard as he could.

The one thing you can deduce from all this is that something was supposed to be here, but now it's not. And your sire is pissed.

What do you do?

[Toilet Cobra]

If anyone knows how to survive one of Flagg's tantrums, it's me. It is pointless to try and console him, and even simply asking what happened might bring a violent rebuke. All I can do is get to work and try to appease him with results.

And so I concentrate and will my senses to grow sharper, to heighten my perception to superhuman levels. As soon as the change takes hold, I begin scouring the garage. I move in a low crouch as I search the floor, and in my concentration I occasionally drop into a wolflike prowling on all fours-- a habit I picked up from Flagg himself while I was still breathing. I drown out all outside distractions, and focus on the hunt for any trace of the intruders.

I want to know what was here. And more importantly, I want to find the dead bastard who took it.

I activate Auspex Rank 1 to sharpen my senses, particularly my sight and smell. At Storyteller discretion, this can reduce related difficulties by 1 (my Auspex rating).

Then, if appropriate, I'd like to make a Perception + Alertness roll to see if I can find some answers. A footprint, a hair, a lingering scent, anything.
Perception + Alertness, 5 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Flagg begins cursing up a storm. He picks up his hat, only to punch the wall with it and create a brand new window to the small lobby. He takes one irritated look at you, then stomps out of the building.

During that time, however, you've been concentrating on your senses. They open up widely to the plethora of scents and sights in the now somewhat-empty garage. At first the obvious scent of old motor oil, break fluid, and dust fills your nostrils, but as you phase that out, you also notice other things that might not belong here:

- (2 normal successes) The scent of new plastic. Kind of hard to describe. Not like a new car smell. But perhaps heated plastic, like a brand new toaster oven. Where else have you smelled this before?

- (1 difficult success) There's also the vague scent of deodorant. You can just barely make it out... was it Old Spice? Well this is something, but it's a common scent.

- (1 difficult success) Indeed you find a single hair on the ground near the door. But you know that's where Flagg tossed down his hat. Could it be his? You sniff it very carefully and confirm that it is indeed your sire's.

- (2 normal successes) Like your sense of smell indicated, there was a lot of dust. The ground was evident of this, as there was a thin layer of dust and dirt everywhere on it. You notice a lot of shuffling around on the ground. Tons of footprints everywhere around the room. They couldn't all just be one person. Unfortunately, it's all but impossible to pick out one intact footprint for analysis on a cursory glance (and the more you and Flagg are active here, the more likely you will mess up a good one). But even if you could get an intact footprint, could you then match it to a brand and style? The footprints seem to lead outside one of the garage doors, which is currently closed.

So it seems your sweep of the room is complete. You also wonder what it is that could have been here.

Try a wits roll (just wits) for a hint! Difficulty 8.

Just as you were about to plan and take your next course of action, Flagg storms back in. Without even thinking, he flings one of the shelves violently. It's flying right toward you! The good thing is that there is another shelf between you and the cumbersome projectile.

This isn't really combat. Just a one-off thing cause your sire is so pissed. He didn't even mean to do this to you anyway.

Roll Dexterity+Dodge, difficulty 6.
Or, you can try to parry the incoming shelf with the shelf next to you using Strength+Melee. (also dif 6)
You'll need 3 successes to avoid this attack.

If it does hit you, the damage will be 5+extra successes in bashing damage.
Roll to soak as normal.
(That is your stamina+fortitude dice, difficulty 6).
Then divide the bashing damage by 2, rounding down.

Or did you already know all that? I had to look it up to be sure. :smallsmile:

[Toilet Cobra]

Typical Flagg. While I was considering how to delicately phrase questions about the clues I'd found, he decided to hurl a shelving unit at me.

With another hiss- this time a hiss of surprise, and not a little frustration- I do my best to leap aside as the huge object hurtles in my direction. I could attempt to bash it out of the air, but Flagg might see that as a challenge, and in his current state of mind it might be just the thing to tip him over the edge into Frenzy. Better to take my lumps, if necessary.

Freaking FLAGG! The last thing I need is to be spending blood on healing right now.

My Dexterity is slightly better than my Strength on this one, but either way it'll be close. My Dex does have the specialty "Animal Reflexes" which I hope applies here, if so it will make any 10's I roll count as two successes instead of one. I noticed you asked for a Dex + Dodge roll, but there isn't actually a Dodge skill in V20 (is that from the original edition? It sounds familiar). The book describes attempting a Dodge as Dex + Athletics, so I'm just going to roll that for the time being if that's alright.

Dexterity + Athletics, 5 dice: [roll0]

And here's a Wits roll, hopefully for a hint: Wits, 3 dice: [roll1]

[WindStruck]

With a pretty loud bang, some prolonged rattling, and a bit of scraping, the two shelves first collide with each other, then the wall. With your heightened senses, the cacophony is almost deafening. You deftly maneuver out of the chaotic trajectories unscathed. The shelves aren't quite as lucky.

With that, Flagg lets out an exasperated breath. "Damn. What the hell are you sniffing around for? I nearly hit you because you got in my way!"

Flagg shook his head quite unhappily and hesitated. "I know exactly who did this. And I'm going to have a few choice words with them. As for you.." he said, pointing at you and then flippantly throwing his hands up. "I don't care. Go find my ****, and kill all the lackeys that took them - if you even can."

With that, your sire briskly turned around, but this time he didn't just walk out. He flew out. Transforming into a bat, he zipped out into the night sky.

Well now. You've got one irate sire, stolen goods to find, and you don't have a clue who stole it, or even know what "it" is. And you're still hungry. At least for now, you can continue your investigation - or even hunting - in peace.

[Toilet Cobra]

Before I think of sating my hunger, I will try to conclude my investigation here at the garage. Secretly, I'm hoping a thief's blood might present itself tonight anyway.

I will scour the scene as well as I can, then head out the back door following the footprints and search out there as well.

Investigation, sadly, is not my strong suit. Do I need to make two separate rolls or just one to finish searching the entire premises? Auspex should still be functioning, if it matters.

Perception + Investigation, 3 Dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Unfortunately, you are unable to find any good footprints. After combing the room over and over, you lose your patience. This was an utter waste of time. Oh well. Who knows what you would have done with a footprint anyway?


1st success:
When you head outside, however, the obvious idea to check out the empty boxes hits you. For the most part, their contents seem an enigma. You spot what appears to be a shipping label, delivery addressed here (you assume, given the same city and street name) and return address Beijing China, and some other street names and postal jargon you probably wouldn't care to remember at the moment. It also mentions a product name "Antminer S9".

2nd success:
Then you get the brilliant idea to flip around the boxes and take a look at every surface. Of course, on the last surface you examine, you see a rather low-quality, black-and-white, stippled picture of what you can only assume is the product. It looked kind of like a smallish rectangular box with a fan protected by some metal grills, and some other electronic doodads on the top.

What is this? Roll Intelligence + Computers (difficulty 8) to try to find out.


When you step outside to continue following the trail, it's almost trivial now that you're concentrating on it. It heads along the side of the building, making a trail in front of the garages. And when the building ends, it just keeps going up to the fence. Now that you are up close to the fence, you see that nearly the entire thing has been sliced open like with some bolt cutters near one of the posts. They tried to put the fence back how it was so as to not seem like anything was off at a casual glance, but it opens very neatly and easily.


Beyond the fence is only maybe another foot of gravel and dirt tops, then it's all pavement again. There's some dirt and pieces of gravel on the road, where obviously they must have taken these things somewhere, but the trail stops cold here.

With this new information you discovered, you wonder if there is yet more information you can glean simply by investigating other things under a different light. Or perhaps someone in one of these nearby buildings saw something? Though to be honest, a lot of this area did look abandoned. Only a gas station on the opposite corner of the intersection seems like it might still be in business. Maybe. Some pumps were still there, and some fluorescent lights were on, though the tiny shop in the center was dark and there weren't any prices posted on the station's big sign. The other places... fat chance they weren't condemned, but you never know.

Then again, you also had some contacts. Maybe they caught wind of a big fence? The sky's the limit! Until dawn, that is.

[Toilet Cobra]

These looks like some kind of electronic component, but as to what they actually do... or what Flagg thought he could accomplish with them, that's gonna take some figuring out. I turn the box over and over in my hands, trying to piece together the little info I have.

I actually know a smidge about computers... helping Flagg check his email was no doubt a major part of my duties in the early 2000's.

Intelligence + Computers, 4 Dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Three difficult successes! Wow!

At first, the name "Antminer S9" seems to ring a bell, but you don't quite put your finger on it yet. Then as you turned the box over looking at the picture, it hit you: these were bitcoin mining machines. Bitcoin mining. The irony of it all was both pathetically amusing and gut wrenching.

These machines were basically computer hardware, somewhat similar to what you might find in your average PC tower, except they were designed for one purpose and for one purpose only: to quickly and efficiently run a bitcoin program on the web, cooperating with other peers, and "mine" bitcoins.

And the ones in this box... well, you never actually touched this business, seeing as it seemed so shady and unreliable. But you had heard of bitcoins, whether it be some random article you read or a news blurb and checked it out a bit more in depth on your own. You saw some of the upper end prices on these machines, laughed, and forgot all about it. These small, computerized boxes were probably worth hundreds, if not thousands of dollars. And looking at how many shelves were in the former garage... Flagg must have spent a small fortune on them.

With this realization in mind, as you followed the trail which ended at the paved street, you suddenly wondered how Flagg had set it all up. Well, he couldn't have. Not by himself anyway. He had to have had someone set up this whole operation for him. And that brought up the question: who? And could they have been trusted?


I honestly don't know much about bitcoins myself. But I thought this idea was funny. SO. From this point on, don't expect anything else I narrate about bitcoins to be 100% realistically accurate. If anything, I'm going to embellish and mystify the hell out of the process.

[Toilet Cobra]

*Sigh* Flagg and I, we'd had more than one gold claim jumped in our day. The currency changed but our luck stayed the same.

I had only one contact left in the underworld, and this wasn't exactly his forte, but if anyone could help me it'd be Omar. I pulled up his number and prayed he'd be listening (like most street players he was a firm believer in call screening).

"Omar, this is Corbin. I need some information quickly, and I'm ready to pay for it. Cash, favors, whatever you need. Call me back."

I'm going to call on my dot of Contacts, Omar Forrest, to see what he knows about a Bitcoin mining operation being set up here in Philly. If Omar can help me, I'll either pay him cash (whatever my Dot of Resources can afford) or I can offer to do a job for him if he needs something broken.

Also I'm changing my font color.

[WindStruck]

You take a breather and wait. You were never really fond of trying to play Encylopedia Brown anyway. You were a fighter. You were a killer. You were one with your animal instincts. But a sleuth you were not. Or at least, not a very good one anyway.

And then you wait some more, growing impatient. What did this guy lose his phone? Did he turn it off cause he was at a movie or had a hot date? Or maybe he was ignoring you.

Your irritation and resentment build, but finally your phone rings. It's Omar.

"Eeey, what up, Corbin?" the man of dubious legal activity greets, totally nonchalant like you haven't been sitting there and waiting 15 minutes for his reply. "If you got the dough, I got the know. Now tell me brotha watchu need?"

[Toilet Cobra]

Finally! I was beginning to lose faith in Mr. Forrest.

"Well my man, it's like this. My business partner just got a shipment of electronics, trying to set up a little venture out here on the West side. But somebody went and ripped him off, and I need to know who might pull some noise like that. So have you heard anything about somebody trying to setup that kind of operation for themselves, or maybe looking to unload some expensive Chinese computer parts real quick? I've got to find these guys, O'. If you come through for me on this, I'll be one grateful SOB over here."

[WindStruck]

"Mmm, electronics, huh? Matter of fact, I know a guy who know a guy that be rippin' people off with cheap knock-off smart phones and tablets. Haha, that s**t be complete s**t, man. You just drop it one time and the damn thing break, even if it don't got cracks on it or nothin'. Oh what? You and yo partner just got ripped? Hahaha, what kind of goods are we talking about? Man, China makes everything now dog. I dunno if I heard anything, but I mean, what if I did? You want me to rat out my homes or somethin'? No way man, no way, not unless you got like a million dollas!" Omar laughs at you like you just asked him to donate to the KKK. You feel the urge to reach across the phone and strangle him.

Had to revise this many times. :smallbiggrin:

Anyway. Maybe some kind of social roll over the phone would help...? But because it's across the phone, some things might be a lot harder to do than if they were face to face.

[Toilet Cobra]

Even though he makes me grind my teeth somenights, I find myself smirking at Omar's slip-up. "Omar, you're not a snitch, any more than I'm a cop. So your 'homes' took our sh*t? Well your other 'homes' is asking you to put him in touch in exchange for an easy payday. I've done as much for you. Hell, I've done more for you. So unless your friend is letting you in on the action, you don't owe him sh*t-- and if he is cutting you off a piece of my merchandise, then we're going to have an issue old friend. You wouldn't play me like that, would you?"

Omar isn't a big-time player. If he was, I wouldn't be able to call on him. :smalltongue:

If I may, I'd like to make an Intelligence + Streetwise roll to recall any associates of Omar's who might have been interested in such equipment. OR who have suspected Cainite ties.

Intelligence + Streetwise, 4 Dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Hm, that's a tough one. You knew Omar from dealings like hit jobs, weapons, and drugs. He only seemed to handle illegal things and smuggled them. There weren't anything illegal about those bitcoin mining machines. And unfortunately you never did anything like this before, so your mind draws a blank.

But come to think of it, the guy Omar just mentioned who sold crappy phones would probably know way more about this. You don't know his name or anything about it though. Only that you already heard about some "buyer beware" story on the news before.

Omar is silent for a few seconds, but then he continues, still rambly and fast talking as always. "...whoa, look dog, chill. I never said I heard nothin'. I ain't even seen a cut. But c'mon man, I still don't even know what you're talking about! Tell me what got stolen and maybe I can dig something up."

Do you want to trust Omar with this information? It seems he's got an awfully big mouth. Or maybe ask directly about his 'friend'.

[Toilet Cobra]

"Actually, this is one of those situations where it's better for you not to know specifics," I say. "I don't know who exactly we're dealing with, but they could be bad news. If you start asking around for the parts they just stole tonight, they'll know you're asking on my behalf and they may come down on you. I was mostly hoping you had heard some loose talk I could use."

"Here's a thought-- can you put me in touch with your friend who sells the Chinese electronics? I can ask him directly if he's heard anyone talking about my merchandise, you won't get mixed up in anything sketchy, and either way you still get your fee. What do you say? Help a brother set up a meet?"

I'm like 1/2 bluffing here, but I do want Omar to be careful. It's not impossible that the parts were taken by a dangerous group or even by a vampire-led crime organization, and I don't want him sticking his neck out.

[WindStruck]

"Alright, alright, coo. Don't wanna get jumped. But I hook you up dog, just need a little finder's fee."

Omar asks for $300 at a usual drop-off spot. You talk him down to $200. Drop it off by the end of the night to make him very satisfied. Or maybe the next night...

Then you get his other contact's location. As a matter of fact, this person who sells cheap, knock-off electronics can be found in the Chinatown area. Omar gives you the name and street of a nearby place.. since he can't read the name of the actual location itself. He says to look for a restaurant called PENANG, and then right across from that should be a small shop with a red sign and all chinese letters. That's the place. And the guy's name is Hao.

It couldn't me much more than a mile directly southeast of you.

[Toilet Cobra]

You gotta take care of your friends, and although Omar isn't a very good one, I always take care of my friends. It'll take a bit of walking, but I track down an ATM and withdraw a few hundred. Then I think better of it, and withdraw a few more, bringing my bank account balance pitifully low. I may need to bribe a few more crooks tonight, and they might not all be as understanding as Omar when it comes to waiting for payment.

Since time is of the essence, I beat feet for the address in Chinatown, keeping an eye out for the little shop with the red sign. When I spot it, I stick to the shadows for a moment and take stock; do I see anyone moving around? Does it look like anybody's home at this time of night?

I will be trying to skulk in the darkness while I take a look, so I'm including a stealth roll as well to hopefully remain unnoticed.

Perception + Awareness, 4 dice: [roll0]

Dexterity + Stealth, 6 dice: [roll1]

[WindStruck]

It sounds to me like you meant to use Alertness, since that is the default "spot check" skill in v20. Awareness is more for sensing things of a supernatural sense... Still. Did pretty well on the roll, so I won't roll anything extra for you. :smallsmile:

The scene at China town is quite lively, actually. In this part of town the tourists frequent, as to be expected by the huge, gaudy, Chinese arch nearby, and the night is still pretty young, though it seems most of the half-decent restaurants are closing or have closed already, much like Penang.

The streets are quite occupied. Tourists, locals, workers all alike pass by any given door fairly frequently. You even spotted a police patrol car while coming here.

There, across the street from Penang is where you see the shop with the illegible red sign. In front of it a cheap fold-up table is set up. You see a bunch of electronic gizmos, like those cat things that wave their paw back and forth, some other things that look like toys, a new nintendo DS, some smart phones... the guy at the table is a small man, Asian of course, and casually dressed. He wheels and deals, trying to lure in all passerbys to pay attention to him and his marvelous wares.

Above the shop in the third-story window, however, you notice someone - probably a man - gazing down at the table below, partially concealed by half a curtain.

But tonight is your lucky night. You're like a shadow, moving from place to place almost completely undetected. And when you do pass by someone, it's like you're not even there, unnoticed. There is nothing to see here.

You can easily get the drop on this guy.

If you confront the guy at the table, you'll reduce difficulty of intimidation. Or a surprise round for combat, but you don't want to do that do you? You might even just be able to sneak inside... But that will take another roll.

[Toilet Cobra]

I could probably show some teeth to the man on the street and maybe get some info, but it feels too public... too many watching eyes. Besides, he probably doesn't know much. After all, the equipment that was stolen from my Sire isn't the sort of thing you sell on a folding table on the street.

No, if there are answers here, I'm betting they're inside... but getting in there could be quite a trick. Once more checking that my revolver is in its place, I concentrate on my dwindling store of Vitae. I fritter away a little precious blood, but I force my reflexes into high gear. My muscles go lithe and rubbery, and my footfalls go just a little quieter. My hunger is mounting by the minute, but I'll need every advantage to slip in there unnoticed.

I spend a blood point to increase my Dexterity to 5 for the rest of the scene. This puts me at a piddly 4 points of blood left.

Dexterity + Stealth, 7 Dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

[roll0]

You move quickly and more important silently, slithering your way through the shadows to the door. It seemed you had a lucky break, as the man at the table was just trying to lure in some other people walking by. But unfortunately, they completely ignored him and kept walking. They led the man's gaze more toward you.

As sneaky as you were, the fact remained that there really wasn't much cover out here. All you had was the night, a few parked cars in the street, distractions of other people, and some shadows. But this guy was sharp and on his A-game. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you, and so just inches before reaching door handle, you know he sees you, and he says, "Oh! Hello there sir! Are you... interested in our higher end electronics?"

Well crap, he saw you. Now what do you do?

No more bonuses to intimidation.

[Toilet Cobra]

My jaw clenches in frustration. If my heart still beat, the vein in my temple would be pounding.

That's not the face I want to show this keen-eyed mutt, though. Instead I do my best to make my eyes go wide in surprise, and put on a small, sheepish smile. "You sell electronics here? But I was told this was a place where a man could get, y'know... a massage." I back away with my hands up in a friendly gesture. "My mistake, pal. Sorry for the mix-up." I turn quickly, pull up my collar, and walk back the way I came. I'll have to figure something else out.

Normally I'd roll some sort of bluff here, but if he doesn't believe me I don't care either way. I just walk down the block til he's out of sight.

[WindStruck]

The man smiles and says, "Massage? Oooh... no, that's next door. If you want I can..."

But you've already heelturned and walked away. The guy just shrugs and continues trying to peddle his wares to other customers. One block down you turn a corner, ducking out of sight. It seems you've aborted without a fuss. Now what's the plan?

[Toilet Cobra]

Once I was safely out of sight, I leaned against the cool cement wall of whatever oriental business occupied this street corner and took a long, deep breath. The calming effect was purely in my head, as my lungs no longer truly functioned, but it felt good regardless. I had not frenzied often in my short unlife, and I wanted to fight down the Beast long enough to gather my wits.

But my thoughts seemed hopelessly scattered tonight. This was ridiculous. Why was I here? Why couldn't Flagg keep himself together, or even just clean up his own messes? It wasn't fair, or even smart to dump this all on me.

I am not a particularly versatile man. My only two skill sets are sneaking and fighting, and I'd already failed at a stealthy approach. I didn't want to start a fight with Omar's friends, and I had my doubts that I could even survive such an encounter alone.

I found myself once again missing my former companions. Back when I was just a part of an elite pack of ghouls, we seemed almost unstoppable. Johnny Blackfeather would have succeeded where I'd failed at infiltration; he had been more shadow than man, even before Flagg had adopted him. Or "Big Will" Willamette, who was a fighter without peer. I'd never forget how he'd been shot, bayonetted, and even horse trampled, yet he still managed to drag me out of that nightmare crossfire outside Goliad before we'd both met our maker-- and me having been felled by a single shot to the thigh. Big Will would have no trouble taking on this whole neighborhood of crooks and cutthroats by himself.

Most of all I missed Grace Sully, the only lady to ever join our troupe. Fast with a gun and a knife, she was even faster when she started wagging that silver tongue of hers. She'd have you thinking the sun would set at noontime before she was done with you. A little chit-chat and in no time at all, she would have had all of us inside that shop, acting like we owned the place. Me? I could barely talk my way into Elysium these days.

I sighed, and tried to push my departed friends out of my mind. Them that's gone are gone, as Flagg would have reminded me in the old days. I didn't have anyone else to rely on anymore, which meant I'd just have to get my hands dirty.

I drew my pistol, checked the load, and tucked it into the back of my belt, beneath my jacket, where I could grab it quickly. I'd give sneaking another shot, if I could. If I couldn't, well, I'd just have to fall back on my other skill set.

I set my jaw and started walking quietly back towards the shop, padding along the narrow alley behind the street. I'd try the rear entrance this time, if there was one; if not, I'd make one.

I'm going to try and find the back of the building, in the hopes there's another entrance. I'll be creeping down the alley as quietly as possible; I don't know if there's even anybody watching but I'll make a stealth check in case there is.

Dexterity + Stealth, 7 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Bet you are glad that we agreed on only one 1 counting, huh? So you've still got one success... but unfortunately, now that you've noticeably backed out and come back....

[roll0]

You creep down the alley, though this time, you aren't sure if it's as stealthy. Sure there's no one around to see you - or so you think - but that's the crux of the problem. The area back here is much quieter. Quiet like a graveyard. And of course, it's not as clean, with empty boxes, trash, and debris littering the area. Stuff not taken care of properly, fecklessly tossed aside maybe to be put in the dumpster another day.

It is more well-lit than you'd like too. The number of lights in strategic locations would make even skilled cat burglars a little nervous. Still, you press on, trying to stick to the shadows as best you can. You manage not to make too much noise.. the only flub was when you accidentally kicked some kind of broken, empty, plastic jug but that was still like half a block down...

You approach the back door of the place, but you feel nervous all of a sudden. Roll perception+alertness.

[Toilet Cobra]

Bet you are glad that we agreed on only one 1 counting, huh?
You'd lose that bet. Failing because someone rolled even a single success to negate me instead of just failing entirely due to my own crappy roll is not much of a consolation. :smalltongue:


I had thought that the darkened alley suited my purposes, but hadn't counted on so much refuse blocking my path. In trying to walk quietly, I put my foot down squarely on an old beer can, which shot to the side and clattered noisily over the alley's roughly paved surface.

Cursing my luck, I crouched lower in the shadows, for whatever good that would do now. I strained my ears, trying to see if anyone had noticed the sound.

I'll refrain from using Auspex-- too much danger of somebody shining a flashlight in my eyes in the next ten seconds.

Perception + Alertness, 5 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

You crouch down, almost in panic. And in your fear-induced paranoia, you hear it: the subtle clicking of a gun. With the sound guiding your eyes, you easily spot the guy, skulking behind a dumpster on the opposite side of the small alley. Well, you're both aware of each other now.

The man is taller. Not as tall as you, but a bit tall for an asian. His face is long and gaunt, and that weird type of face where the eyes look really baggy for some reason. He steps out from behind the dumpster, leveling the pistol at your head. "I thought I smelled rat. Now you tell me what you snoop around here for... or things will get ugry."

Combat has not initiated yet. We'll roll initiative if either you or this guy decide to fight. BUT... I think it is time for a frenzy check, isn't it? Your character is pretty hungry too...

Now I am new to this, so will it be a self-control roll at difficulty 4? It seems like it's a "life-threatening situation" even though you're a vamp and all and can probably take several shots...

But again, I'm new to this. Does asking for a frenzy check seem really stupid right now?

[Toilet Cobra]

This seems like the perfect time for a frenzy roll. Corbin is frustrated, low on blood, and now he's being insulted and threatened. To top it off, this guy stole my Font color!

A vampire can only roll the lesser of his Self Control and Blood Pool to resist Frenzy, but in this case it yields 4 dice either way. I'll roll here first and then edit my post to reflect the results.

Self Control, 4 dice: [roll0]


Inside my chest, I can feel the howling Beast rising from its slumber, panting for bloody release. Oh, how I would love to give it what it wants. I can't help but feel my face twist into a snarl, and this time I'm helpless to even feign civility.

I stand up straight, and take a step out of the shadows. What blood I have is all but boiling as I lock eyes with the tall man and feel my lips curl away from the teeth.

"Well, now you've caught me," I say. "And now you have a choice to make. Your boss has some information. And I want it. So I'm headed to his office, to talk things over. You can either escort me, and he and I can talk like civilized people. Or you can squeeze your little trigger, and I will walk over your bodies until I get to him."


Alas, the book calls for a Charisma + Intimidation roll to cow others, meaning a stat I didn't invest much in and a skill I put NOTHING in. The roll should be opposed by my target's Charisma + Intimidation, I believe, if I'm reading the example correctly.

Given that this can probably only go one way, I'm also going to spend another blood point to raise my Stamina to 4 for the remainder of the scene.

Charisma + Intimidation, 2 dice: 2d10

[WindStruck]

A smile cracks on the man's face. "My boss? You are either idiot who does not know what he tarks about, or a stupid foo."

He adjusts the grip on his gun and tilts his head slightly. "Now you will tark, and if I don't like your answer, you choking up brood will have to do. Getting rid of a body is easy for us to do."

Counter-intimidate! Not sure what it will do honestly. But I think him not speaking english properly kind of hurts his intimidation...

[roll0] Let's say because of the funny accent, he needs diff 7s. But then because you're a vampire, I'll bump it up to 8. If you roll another intimidation roll to negate this, you still can just use 6s.

[WindStruck]

Sensing you about to make an aggressive act, the Chinese man loses all patience with you and fires his pistol. He wasn't a terribly bad shot but your movements made it hard to get a good aim. The bullet barely clips you, dealing inconsequential damage. The shot echos in all directions down the dark alley and into the nearby side-street. And now the Asian man realizes his folly as a bestial man is upon him.

[Toilet Cobra]

I advance in a flash, hissing like a viper, my rage barely held in check. This unfortunate man has provoked me nearly beyond my endurance, but even so... I haven't totally forgotten why I came here. Flagg sent me out for answers, not bodies, and while a dead body can be useful, a hostage is even more so. So despite all that's happened, if he plays his cards right, this poor sap may yet live to see another sunrise.

Instead of separating his head from his shoulders like I would prefer, instead I try to grab the still-hot barrel of his gun and wrench the weapon out of his grasp.

Taken from the book on p.276, a Disarm is a normal melee attack at a +1 difficulty. If I score a hit, I roll damage as normal, and if my damage successes are greater than his Strength, he is disarmed.

To hit, Dex + Brawl, 8 dice: [roll0]

If I hit I will update with damage in a follow-up post.

[Toilet Cobra]

Here's hoping his Strength is low or my Luck is high :smallwink:
Strength + 2 Bonus successes, 6 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

You hiss and leap at the man, trying to beat away his gun, but he backs up just a bit, and your whole attempt is trashed when your hand whacks the dumpster instead of his pistol or hand. Now this guy thinks you're bat**** crazy. He doesn't know if he hit you or not. He swore he did, though it probably wasn't a good shot, and now he's panicking because you're up in his face, and come to think of it you're one scary motherf***er when pissed off.

He unloads as many rounds as he can in order to bring you down. The deafening barrage of gunfire again echoes down the alleys and the nearby sidestreets.

accuracy:[roll0]
I assume that if your next plan is to bite him, attack him, disarm him, whatever - that if you aren't taking any defensive actions, you do not get a chance to negate any of these. His difficulty is at 6. -2 for being at point blank range, but +2 again for rapid-fire and dealing with recoil.
--5 successes in this step.


damage die: [roll1]
I am only rolling a bunch of damage at the same time. But all of these will not likely be used up.
--so 4 dice from the 9mm pistol + 4 bonus accuracy dice is... 3 successes.

You now have 3 bashing damage to soak. Or is it lethal? I think since you have the Fortitude discipline, all bullet shots not to the head are just bashing.

[Toilet Cobra]

Rolling my soak first; any injuries will affect my die pools on my turn. It'll be a while til I can post my next action, but just wanted to get this done first.

Stamina + Fortitude, 7 dice: [roll0]

[Toilet Cobra]

I see the muzzle flash, and I certainly hear the defeaning reports as the gun goes off again and again. But my body barely registers the passage of the bullets, feeling only a powerful but brief shoving sensation on my torso with each round.

It wasn't so surprising. After all, beneath my more-or-less human skin lay little but dry bones, a twisted heart and stomach, and unliving gristle. It's not easy to hurt a corpse by mortal means, and that was true even before I had begun my study of enhancing my fortitude with the aid of vitae. For all his flaws, Flagg was at least an excellent teacher of the Cainite mystical arts.

So in the heat of the moment, so focused on my attack, all I really notice is the searing heat of the gun's barrel as I struggle to remove the weapon from my foe's grasp. It takes focus to keep up the attempt; as we strain for control, the man's neck is pulled enticingly taut, and it feels like I can see every vein beneath his skin...

Going to make one more attempt at a disarm.

Dexterity + Brawl, 8 dice: [roll0]

[Toilet Cobra]

Strength + six bonus dice, 10 dice total: [roll0]

I snarl as I wrench the weapon out of the man's grip and hurl it away into the alley's shadows. "What now, you oriental gangster trash? Can you make me talk without your little toy? Here, let me show you what can be done with nothing but bare hands and hate."

I'm not going to bother with an intimidate check, I just like the opportunity to dialogue a bit :smallwink:

I don't have him in a grapple or anything, but I do have him up against a wall (and possibly a dumpster, as well), so he's semi-trapped. If he tries to bolt I will attempt to catch him, though I don't think the system has any kind of "attack of opportunity" rules.

[WindStruck]

The man is completely freaked out now. He cries something in his native tongue as you rip the gun from his grasp and toss it away.

Backed up against a wall, he says, "Who the herr are you? What do you want??"

Ironically enough, even though the man is clearly scared, his line of questions seem to coincide with what he was asking before he pissed himself.

[Toilet Cobra]

I grab the terrified man with a snarl, pick him up by his collar, and slam him roughly against the wall. His slight frame makes this a fairly trivial task for a heavy lifter like myself.

Luckily for him, my rage is cooling and the Beast is returning to slumber. He doesn't need to know that, of course. "Who am I? I'm the motherf*cker you've already crossed at least once tonight, the red-hot son-of-a-whore whose patience you have completely used up. And what I want is information. So If you want to live, you'll give me the answers I came for without any more bullsh*t."

"Now, for starters, what do you know about a little piece of gear called an Antminer-S9? Know anybody with a pile of those for sale all of a sudden?"

[WindStruck]

The man holds his hands up before you grab him by the collar and slam him into the wall. Now he clings to your forearm instead, kicking his legs futilely. "A- Antminer?! Yes! Bitcoin machine!"

"I don't know.. anything!"

roll empathy+perception to tell if he's lying or not. If it is a lie, it's very poorly constructed. No opposed rolls, all you need is one success.

Then you hear the sound of shunting metal and a squeak. The backdoor opens up behind you, and an oriental woman sticks her head out of the door. It seems she is calling out some question to the darkness..?

"How?" No, wait! Hao! Is this guy you have by the scruff of his neck Hao??

The woman gasps when she sees you. Crap? Now what?

[Toilet Cobra]

I draw my gun from behind my back and jam it into the man's belly. "That's one lie," I say, cocking the revolver. "You won't survive another. Now I need names. Locations. Who the f*ck took our gear, you-"

My epithet is cut off when a door opens, shining a rectangle of light across the alley and illuminating us. I hear an old woman call out and, not for the first time tonight, curse my luck. These bastards were crawling out of the woodwork!

"If she makes a scene, I kill you both," I hiss in 'Hao's' ear. "Make something up-- in ENGLISH-- and send her away. You don't have long, Hao."

[WindStruck]

Hao chuckles nervously, smiling to the woman (she's actually in her 20's probably) and says, "Haha, don't worry Sheen, me and this gentleman just have a misunderstanding. Works for the boss. Very unhappy. You run along and please no call cops now."

She looks nervous but nods and quickly closes the door again.

Once the coast is clear he pleads, "Rook, my boss very scary. If he find out I rat on him I'm dead man!"

[Toilet Cobra]

I grin. "Then here's what you do," I say. "I know that in a gang like this, you've always got somebody trying to hamstring you. You tell me what I want to know, and not only do I let you live, I'll help you pin it on one of your underlings. Make it look like they talked."

"Isn't there somebody you wish was gone? A sub-boss not giving you their cut? Dealing on the side? Tell me who has my gear, and then I'll make a problem disappear for you. What do you think, sound fair?"

[WindStruck]

The Chinese man looks kind of confused. Maybe like you're crazy. Well, now crazy in terms of mental faculty too now.

"Ah... sure, sure! You, uh, got any idea? I don't know how to pin on other guy, but maybe it best if they just don't know I told you."

Now that you aren't such a raving lunatic anymore, he calms down a bit himself. He goes silent a bit as those gears in his head must be working. "Ok, you put me down now? I think I know how to hep you."

[Toilet Cobra]

Well, it was worth a shot. I release the man's throat and take the gun out of his stomach, though I keep the weapon in hand. "You always were the smart one, Hao. Let's hear your great plan."

[WindStruck]

Hao doesn't bother going for his discarded gun yet, but he does walk unsteadily to the back door. "Matter of fact, we are supposed to get some tonight. There were so many we didn't know what to do with all of them. But it would be foolish to keep them all here," he said, stopping. On second thought, did he even want you inside?

"Now here what I think. I don't know where the rest are at, but the guy who set up all machines should have been the first person you go to, not me. Yeah? They just sell to us cheap." He checks his watch. "In about 15 minutes they be here. Can you follow their car?"

-------

Meanwhile...

The prince and a wrinkled woman sat together in a cozy study, accompanied by a crackling fire. As much as vampires tend to be scared of it, these two seemed to have quite a refined practice when it came to dealing a controlled fire casually, not unlike their long lost human selves hundreds of years ago. Edda, as her name was, the Tremere primogen, had taken some time from her research to make nice with the prince. He always seems to check up on her progress at a bad time. Then again, every time was a bad time.

"... think she is Primogen material?" Edda asked.

The prince just silently and slowly shook his head. That was more than enough for a resounding no.

"Mm. Pity. They're a dangerous lot it seems, but their insights have saved the Camarilla more often than not."

"As have the other clans," the prince added, matter-of-factly.

"True," the witch conceded. "In any case, I did not expect you to come visiting. As I said before, our progress has been very... marginal. It still feels like we are close, but as I said it could take quite a while."

"It's funny, I don't really know. I might have had better things to do, but I had this-"

*crash!*

The two vampires jump from their seats and turn around to see one very ugly, feral, irate cowboy who's gone out of style staring them down with a machete in one hand and a molotov in the other.

"Rodney, you son of a bitch!"

"Amos Flagg..." the prince drawled listlessly, clearly unimpressed. He would probably be amused if not for his unwelcome entrance and collateral damage to the Primogen's home. "To what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

"Don't you play dumb with me you no-good lousy four-flushing skunk! I am sick and tired of you Camarilla stiffs thinking you're the only ones that can own anything!"

"What is this imbecile going on about?"

[Toilet Cobra]

"Better idea," I reply. I poke him in the back with the barrel of my gun, indicating that he should continue into the building. "Give me an address and I'll find my way there. After I sit in on your little meeting. I want to see the face of the bastard who ripped me off."

[WindStruck]

Hao raises his hands in the air again. "Yeah ok, I only know where their front is. The other machines will not be there." Guessing you wanted in, he takes a key out and unlocks the door, allowing you inside. Here is the back of the building. A cramped staircase near the back door leads up to what you assume are more residential areas. Then there's another open door, which also looks like it can be shut and locked from the other side.

"So this is what I am told. The computer guys get paid big money to set up bitcoin farm for this person, but he's.." the man realizes he's probably either talking about you or a friend of yours, "he doesn't know anything about them. And wants them set up in an empty part of town. So they set up servers for him, then few hours later come back and take it again."

Past that doorway looks more like a computer shop. Some antique systems dating back from the 80's and 90's sit here, as well as some newer desktop models, and even some arcade machines are here for browsing. "Please, we just try to resell."

Up near the front entrance the woman that checked outside the back fidgets nervously, looking at stuff on her iphone. Hao smiles to the girl like nothing is wrong and reaches under the counter for a shotgun business card and hands it to you.

"So sorry sir they were broken. Here you can have the card of our suppliers, have quick word with them. We handle all our goods with care. Guaranteed."

So it seems the info on this card belonged to the people who really ripped Flagg. Again, looked like the address was somewhere in China town... there was also a phone number on the card. Could you be certain you could trust this guy?

-------

"If only I knew what he was raving about..."

"My bitcoin mine!" Flagg spat venomously.

"Bitcoins..? What on earth? Had your reputation not preceded you, Amos, I would have thought you were Malkav."

"If you don't tell me where you put my servers in-" The Gangrel looked at the dwindling burning fuse on his bottle. "-ten seconds, I am lighting this place up like a- like a..."

"Like a what?" The prince said, stepping forward with those dominating eyes.

"Like a... shhit!" Flagg yelled, and he threw the bottle. Those probably would have been the not-so-famous last words of Amos Flagg.

But in a blurr of motion, the prince seemed to have caught the bottle intact and completely unscathed. He looked at it, with a princely admiration. Then his face contorted into rage and he threw it into the fireplace, making an unsettling FWOOSH!! Flagg gulped.

"I've had enough of your shenanigans, you filthy mongrel. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't rip you from limb to limb and end that pitiful childe of yours for good measure."

[Toilet Cobra]

I take the card and examine it carefully. Sending a glance at the woman, I take a step away from Hao and holster my weapon. "I should have never doubted you, Hao," I say. "How could you have known they were defective? I'll take up my issue with the supplier."

I smile and give the man a friendly pat on the shoulder. "You guys're alright, you know that? I'll show myself out. Have a pleasant and profitable evening, Hao."

I walk back outside, the information I was searching for in my hand. I don't intend to leave just yet; instead, taking a long route through the alleys, I cross back to the other side of the street, waiting to get a look at the 'supplier' Hao said would be arriving soon. While I wait for them to show, I take out my phone and give Flagg a call. Might as well give him an update, maybe it would help calm him down, keep him from doing anything stupid tonight.

[WindStruck]

In the mean time, Hao scurries back out to the alley to grab his gun and pick up a few empty casings he could find. Wouldn't want to make this place look like a crime scene or a warzone after all.

You meanwhile try giving your sire a call. Because at least you think you've got a lead now, and you want to make sure he's on the same page. Hopefully he wasn't doing something else incredibly stupid.

---

Flagg stood there like a deer staring into headlights. It only now dawned on him this was an incredibly stupid thing to do.

"I'm waiting, Flagg."

Just then country music started playing. It was emanating from Flagg's person. His cell phone was ringing! This just got even more awkward.

"Uh... do you mind?"

"I can't believe it! This madman is turning my home into a circus, and you are just standing idly by!?"

The prince turned to Edda. "Madman... yes... a little bird told me perhaps I should dispense some mercy when a lunatic started throwing wild accusations at me." He coldly looked back at flag and commanded, in a rather deadpan voice, "Answer it."

---

After several rings (your sire is usually kind of bad about answering the phone, but nevertheless this delay is rather worrisome) Flagg finally answers the phone.

"Whitcomb? What are you.. look, I'm uh, a little busy right now..."

And by his voice, you could also sense he was probably in a sticky situation.

[Toilet Cobra]

"Sire, I wanted to let you know that I have a solid lead on the thieves. I may even be able to lay hands on your stolen equipment tonight, if luck holds. We should reconvene to discuss the next move as soon as possible."

"... wait, you're busy with what? Is it something I can help with?"

[WindStruck]

"You've got a lead?? Uh, I mean. Good work! Where are you at?" Flagg asked.

He shot a nervous look over at the prince and said, "Don't worry about me. I'm just having a chat with someone important. It's all just a little misunderstanding..."

[Toilet Cobra]

Uh oh. Flagg was sounding like a whipped dog, and there was only one "important" person who could put him in such a state. Even the clan Primogen, Theresa, didn't inspire this kind of dread in my Sire. It could only be the Prince.

"Alright. Let me speak to him."

[WindStruck]

Flagg is silent for a while and then chuckles. "...you're joking, right? Do you even know-"

So you interrupt your sire and guess it's the prince. He just gives up at this point and tosses the phone to Rodney, much to his ire. "My crazy kid wants to talk to you."

And so with the precarious, dwindling patience of a saint, the prince addresses you coldly, quite clearly annoyed, and his voice seems commanding even across the phone. "This had better be good. You are on thin ice as well."

[Toilet Cobra]

I knew whom I would be speaking with, but the sound of the Prince's voice chilled me all the same. He was a superior predator, that was all. If he decided to call for my blood, there was no way to run far and fast enough. My only chance at survival would be to find a secluded patch of grass outside the city, meld with the dirt, and sleep away a century or two in the hopes he wouldn't be so angry in the 22nd century.

That was a fate I hoped to avoid. "My Lord," I began, "Please forgive my audacity in addressing you directly." It was ludicrous to apologize for speaking when my sire had no doubt just stormed directly into the Prince's presence, likely with that ridiculous machete in hand, but forms had to be observed. "I will be brief. My Sire has been the victim of an attack by an organized criminal group, and I have been investigating the circumstances since. I believe the culprits to be a large, foreign operation, with likely Cainite backing. Potentially Sabbat backing."

It was a bit of a stretch-- I had no proof, other than the audaciousness of the theft, that there was more than mortal hands at play. And I had certainly seen no sign of the Sabbat. But the Black Hand did control most of the organized crime in Philadelphia, particularly the more recent arrivals. The Italian mafia's old guard were all Ventrue-controlled, or so I'd heard anyway, but the Sabbat had their claws on much of the rest. If this was anything more than a two-bit operation, it wasn't impossible that there was a Sabbat vampire at the head of it.

"My Lord, I know that Amos has committed a grave offense," I continued. "His frenzy drove him to madness. If you would deign to grant us clemency, even temporarily, I will do my best to root out the Cainite responsible for these criminals, and bring you their blood."

[WindStruck]

"Let's get something straight here, young neonate," the prince began. "If this was a frenzy? While your sire would undoubtedly be unable to control himself, and we'd be forced to put him down, that is far more excusable than this. He is far more in control of himself than you or he would admit. Which is why I take such great offense, and it reflects so poorly on him and on you. Reparations must be made to the Tremere Primogen."

He let that sink in, also giving Flagg a cold stare.

"But tell me. If what Amos Flagg is raving about is the same thing you are working to recover... what would the Black Hand find so meaningful about bitcoins?"

Uh oh. Perhaps one little white lie leads to another lie. You'd probably have to BS your way out of this.

[Toilet Cobra]

"A source of easy income, difficult to trace and requiring almost no oversight, with the infrastructure paid for by a Camarilla fall-guy?" I ask. "My prince, why wouldn't they be interested? They always need more weapons. More drugs and bribes for their mortal flunkies. That money has to come from somewhere."

I decide to backpedal a bit. "Even if there are no Cainites behind this organization, then they should either be removed, or brought to heel. My lord, I can do either one, if I am permitted to complete my investigation."

"And as for reparations for Lady Edda, I will agree to serve her interests personally until the injury is erased. Or, if she'd prefer monetary compensation, I'm sure Amos would agree she deserves a portion of the recovered goods-- or a cut of the profits, once it's up and running again."

[WindStruck]

The prince chuckles dryly and humorlessly. "Now there might not be Sabbat involved? Which is it?" he asked rhetorically.

"It is no matter. If they want to be tangled up in the next tulip bulb crash, they have my blessing. And if you want to squabble with them and take some out in the process, you also have my blessing. But if they aren't involved, and this is just some made up story..? I still couldn't care less. Get your affairs in order; you will be contacted in the future about the nature of your promised redress. It was very wise of you to offer on behalf of your sire. As for him, he shall begin paying forward immediately. Good night."

He hung up. You aren't sure if you and your sire dodged a bullet or if you got roped into something else now because of his temperament, bad luck, and bad judgement, but at least you are pretty sure the prince isn't calling a blood hunt on you.

[Toilet Cobra]

I put my phone away with an involuntary sigh of relief. The Prince was no doubt still quite displeased with us, and his comment about Flagg "paying forward" struck me as quite ominous. But given what Flagg had done, we were lucky to escape with our lives. This wasn't the first "misunderstanding" that my sire had had with someone far more powerful than himself.

In the meantime, I returned to my vigil. I wanted to get a look at these rival gangsters when they arrived, assuming I hadn't already missed them. Hopefully Flagg would still be in a state to give me information later, but for the time being I'd have to rely on myself to identify the thieves.

[WindStruck]

(Scene end. Stats go back to normal)

Some time goes by with you hiding in the shadows. Soon enough a white van pulls up to the back of the knock-off / stolen electronics store. It doesn't appear to be marked or have advertising on it in any way. You do catch the license plate, however. It appears to just be a regular Pennsylvania plate: JDP-4772

Two Asian guys get out of the van, turning off the engine, before they go and knock on the back door of the building. Hao opens it to greet them, and they exchange some words you don't understand. They open the back of the van and carry in 4 of those smallish boxes, one in each hand. Looks like the Antminer things.

Hao hands them a wad of bills, nodding, and quietly says something else. Seems like they are concerned about something. Hao shakes his head. They two shrug and begin to head back to the van.

What did you do? Or did you already do something before they got a chance to finish?

[Toilet Cobra]

When the van arrives I take a picture of the license plate, as well as each of the men who climb out. I watch their deal with Hao, and I consider doing something drastic... climbing into the van, for instance, and seeing where they're headed next. I certainly wouldn't mind checking out their warehouse for myself...

But I'm exhausted and hungry, and have no idea what I'd be getting myself into. Fighting a single gangster was one thing, but what if they had a room full of guys waiting at their home base? And if they did, they'd probably be packing something more serious than a cheap pistol like Hao's.

In the end I decide it was too risky to pursue further in my current state. When they drive off, I head in the opposite direction, looking to hail a cab.

First, I want to hit the drop off and give Omar his fee. He may be annoying, and ask for too much for doing very little. But he did come through for me tonight, and a deal is a deal. I'll leave his two hundred where he knows to find it.

After that, it's back to my domain, such as it is, to try and scare up some blood.

I will be attempting to take blood from people in the neighborhood where I sleep. I mostly target a group of folks whom I've marked as single people who aren't diligent about locking their doors and windows.

The book suggests a difficulty of 5 for a low-income area, and then I subtract 2 for my two points of Domain, making it a difficulty 3. I think that this method calls for something like a Wits + Stealth to enter and feed undetected, but obviously that's up to your discretion.

I currently have three blood points, which is the bare minimum I need to avoid a frenzy when I feed. SO hopefully this shouldn't end in disaster, even for the luckless Corbin. Given the situation, I am going to spend the rest of the night hunting if I can-- multiple houses, multiple victims-- until I either top myself off, run out of time before dawn, or Flagg calls.

I don't want to risk more than 2 blood points from each person I feed from, even if it means I don't have time to get fully topped off on blood. I don't want to leave any bodies tonight.

[WindStruck]

Having had enough excitement and sleuthing for the night, you tread back to your "domain" and begin hunting. You were quite thirsty, that is for certain. The Beast was roiling within you all night, pacing back and forth like a lion at the zoo, trapped in its cage. But in this case, if the lion was an enraged rhinoceros and the cage was made of cheap aluminum, that might be more accurate.

You creep from house to house, sticking to the shadows so that not even the nosiest of insomniac neighbors would notice you. You kept tab of quite a few single people whom you believed to be single, and you had tested the defenses of their houses out too. No alarms, no dogs, even a way to get in without too much trouble. One bloke even seemed to leave his front door unlocked half the time.

And so you crept into these people's bedrooms like the plague of death itself at night, but you did not kill your victims; you merely gave them a small "kiss". They never knew what hit them, most times never even waking up. For them, their dreams turned to fleeting bliss and carnal pleasure. Maybe one of their long lost loves suddenly came out of nowhere and grabbed them for a tender embrace. Maybe they just injected themselves with heroine in their dream. Who knows?

But though you did not kill your victims, certainly when they woke up in the morning, they would probably be feeling a bit under the weather. Such is the price of your eternal life and sparing their mortal lives.

---

While you were creeping along in the neighborhood, Flagg suddenly called you again. Really, could this guy for once not screw you over? But thankfully no one appeared to be around at the time. So after nearly jumping out of your skin, you quickly answer the phone.

"Whitcomb," he began somewhat shakily.
"So what did you find out? And what did you tell the prince?"

(This technically already happened, but for now, we'll RP the conversation in the past now).

[Toilet Cobra]

"Sire, it's a relief to hear your voice," I reply. This was true; I was worried that Rodney might leave him in no shape to communicate verbally. "I did some tracking, and some threatening. Got in a little scrape. And I learned from a very reliable source that we were double-crossed: the same group who delivered and installed your electronics in the first place turned around and stole them, in order to sell them on the black market."

"I have a name and an address for one of their fronts, as well as whatever information you have from your dealings with them," I continue. "So we've got leads to work with, for now."

"And as for the Prince, I begged his forgiveness. I told him the nature of my investigation, and was relieved to find out that he didn't particularly care. We discussed a restitution to Lady Edda, and then he hung up on me. It went better than I'd expected, to be honest."

[WindStruck]

Flagg is mostly silent listening to your explanation, only angrily muttering, "Those low-down dirty maggots..."

When you're done he dryly laughs with one breath. "Hah. Well I guess you're good for somethin. Listen, you can deal with those punks yourself, right? The 'prince' is mighty angry with me, and, uh, I'm pretty busy at the moment..."

You hear some shuffling and muffled speech in the background.

"Gotta go. Good luck out there..."

And after you exchange your brief goodbyes, he hangs up.

---

Now nearly fully satiated, the sun will be up soon. You aren't sure if you could squeeze in another person and aren't sure if it's worth the risk either.

Where are you going to rest during the day?

[Toilet Cobra]

I say my goodbyes, giving Flagg assurances that I will continue to pursue the matter. Then, chiding myself for the oversight, I set my phone to silent vibration mode.

I'm close to sunrise, and starting to feel quite drowsy, but I think I have enough time to get to one of my hiding places. I head to one of the addresses in my neighborhood that I've memorized.

It's a good location for a few reasons: no loud dogs nearby (not that dogs mind me much), lots of shady trees to mask an approach, and a handy detached garage with a flimsy back door. I quietly pop the latch with my shoulder, and once inside climb up to the garage's loft. Without any need to breathe, I snuggle right into a fluffy mound of musty insulation and cover myself completely. As the sun rises I am already drifting off into hopefully peaceful sleep, though I can't help but worry about what the next night may bring.

[WindStruck]

The sun rises, reaches its climax, and falls. Another day, another dollar. Or in your case, hopefully not another disaster. Some minutes after that pinkish, purplish glow has long left the horizon, you finally begin to stir. Unrolling yourself from that insulation, it seems you have survived another day. Your dreams were muddled and nonsensical. You briefly remember being out in some forest, hunting something with Flagg. But it was broad daylight in that dream...

Well it's no matter. Dreams never made any sense and probably didn't have much meaning. You get ready to go out into the night again.

Suddenly you hear a sound. It's your worst nightmare when it comes to these places. That could have only been the sound of a key roughly sliding into a lock. With a rusted scrape and thunk, the the lock must have now been twisted open too. It sounded like it came from the garage door. The owner of the property is here!

You might be able to get back into the loft, but you must be extremely fast. As for what else is in here: there's an old truck in here. Must be several decades old and one of those clunky old models but it doesn't appear to be neglected. Just next to the truck is a small speed boat, with a cover over it. One of the walls to the left of the garage door has a few cabinets along it, and the next wall perpendicular to that has a long work bench with an assortment of tools in those peg boards.

To get into the loft, you'll need a Dexterity+Athletics roll. Unknown difficulty, because it depends on how long you have, but the faster you are the better.

To just try and stay out of view and move around, you can merely do Dexterity+Stealth.

Or call a spot you try to hide in first.

Also: You gain 1 exp from last night, and your blood pool is currently at 8.

[Toilet Cobra]

You almost had to laugh. The night had barely begun and already my luck had turned sour.

I crouched low, carefully avoiding the obstructions of the cluttered garage, and stalked around the room counter-clockwise, trying to keep the speed boat between myself and the source of the noise.

Just trying to keep moving quietly.

Dexterity + Stealth, 6 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Quickly you crouch down like a cat hiding under the bed. You never even see the guy, save for what looks like some faded boots and denim jeans from under the boat. He opens the passenger door and rummages around for something. Then one of the cabinets on the far side of the garage. Sounds like he got several tools as well. Then he opens what must be the other car door and climbs inside. After maybe only 30 seconds of having the car warm up, he backs up, gets out, then closes the garage door again.

Whew.

It's a good thing he wasn't taking the boat out for a ride. But then again, that's pretty unlikely in late fall. Now you're probably thinking it would be a very good time to get the hell out of here before something else happens. Where to?

[Toilet Cobra]

Once I'm certain that the owner is gone, I creep out into the night. I check my phone for messages from Flagg; none yet, though he's likely to call sooner or later. I examine the address on the business card; even if it is just a front, I'm hoping I can follow this dragon's tail all the way to its head.

I'll walk it if it's within a few miles, and hail a cab otherwise. If I take a cab it'll be to a random spot within a half-mile or so of the address, don't want my approach to be completely obvious.

[WindStruck]

The address on the business card appears to be another shop in China Town. Though at this time, it could be bustling again. On the fence about the distance, you decide to huff it seeing as you just coughed up $200 to one of your buddies. You re-check the address on your phone before putting it to sleep and on silent. The batteries were starting to get a bit low.

When you arrive, however, you don't wind up in the busy touristy area of this part of town. The streets are a bit darker and far less crowded. Seeing what appears to be the "shop" in the distance, you realize it's not really the kind of shop that sells stuff. If anything, it's probably like a small office. Maybe with a small waiting lobby. You'd have to get much closer to know. But from the looks of all the other buildings, the upper floors were almost surely more of the residential type.

Currently there isn't much but a small light on outside the door. There's some cars parked along the street, and no one in sight at the moment...

[Toilet Cobra]

Sticking to the shadows as best as I can, I creep up to the building. I attempt to circle around the perimeter of the entire property, keeping an eye out for signs of occupants and any obvious security.

Dexterity + Stealth, 6 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

The business appears to be closed, as the lights inside are all off. A plain glass door with a metal handle blocks the way, though probably easy enough to pick open for anyone skilled. Whether or not it's actually protected by a security system is another matter entirely. Cheap magnetic sensors and an alarm system are generally the norm for your average business, though maybe not here. It would depend on what they actually do here and what is inside. You can't tell anyway until you get a much closer look (with a roll).

You circle around the building - or the city block, actually - as the business isn't a single standalone building, but yet more residences and smallish establishments crammed side by side. In the back is another bleak, deserted alleyway, though a bit more narrow than the last one you had a tussle in. There are dumpsters here too, and more trash litters the ground.

Now that you think about it, it's actually kind of hard to tell which of the back doors belongs to the business you were interested in. Hm. There's got to be something around here that will indicate which door is the right one...

Then you hear something. Footsteps! Someone is coming! It appears to be a lone person, can't tell the gender yet, as they are rather silhouetted. They are holding one large, closed paper bag with them. And better yet, they seem to be going for one of the doors you want inside! But which one is it??

To determine if there's a visible security system at the door, it should take a Investigation+Perception roll. There may be something there, there may be not. It would actually be cool if this roll was made in secret. But I think you'd pass it anyway. :smalltongue:

As for what door. Wits+Perception will get you a clue as to which door is the correct one.

Or you can go back again and carefully count how many doors on the front before counting on the back.

You can also try following the person in, though I'm going to be honest. I'm leaving this one purely up to chance to make things interesting. If you pass the wits+perception roll, you can tell if they're going in the right door or not.

[Toilet Cobra]

Trying to remain inconspicuous in the dark alley, I carefully watch the figure as it moves by. Is it some gangster with a bag of illicit drugs, or some old man with a bag of groceries? I don't want to make any kind of move until I know a bit more.

Come to think of it... which of these doors is the right address anyhow? He could be going someplace completely unrelated. Hoping to find some sort of clue before it's too late, I will my senses into overdrive.

I'm going to try and figure out where he's headed. If I think he's going into the building I want, then I will attempt to follow him inside, but if I'm not at least 90% positive I'll let 'im go.

I am also going to activate Auspex Rank 1 to try and get more information before he passes out of sight.

Wits + Perception, 6 Dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

In the front of the store, you noticed that there were indeed small magnetic plates near the top of the door. You also saw a little box on the wall, which was probably how the security system was armed.

---

You notice that one way or another, an address number is usually somewhere around a door. The door the person has approached and got a key out for does not appear to have any indication at all still, but the door just to the right does have something. Not on the wall or door itself, but crudely spraypainted on the dumpster. It matches the number on your business card.

Up closer, the person appears to be a middle-aged woman. Who knows what she has in her bag? But regardless, it's probably not related and a bad idea to stir up unnecessary trouble.

You can leave her be, making you alone again to take the next course of action. Then what?

[Toilet Cobra]

I let the old lady go by unmolested. No point in stirring up trouble; I'm sure it'll find me soon enough on its own.

The first floor appears to have an alarm, which is unfortunate. I'm not much of a burglar, after all. But I wonder if the second floor is quite as well guarded?

Setting my sights on a darkened window, I climb up on a dumpster for height and then do my best to scale the wall up to the window ledge. If I make it, I'll open the window or break it if need be, then see what I can see on the second floor.

Strength + Athletics, 5 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Scaling up a brick wall is no easy feat. From the dumpster you get a hefty boost, and perhaps either a really good jump or careful climbing could get you to the window sill... But damn, these bricks are worn and smooth. Just as you made to bring your other hand up for a better grip, you lost yours and fell.

You twist and whirl to the ground, like a cat that always lands on its feet. If you were alive, that probably wouldn't have happened, and you'd have some nasty bruises. But you're pretty much unharmed from that little fall.

Well, as they say. If at first you don't succeed.....

[Toilet Cobra]

Cursing, I return to the wall. I hold up my hands and will forth the Beast... and watch as long claws grow from my fingertips.

There, that ought to help. I return to the dumpster and get ready to try once more.

I spend a blood point to activate Feral Claws. Reduces the difficulty of climb checks specifically by 2.

Strength + Athletics, 5 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

There we go. The claws scratch into the brick as if they were made of chalk. And then you make for the window, trying to push it upwards, but it doesn't budge. Well ****, of course not. You suppose you'll have to break in now?

Maybe those claws of yours will help you...

Hopefully there's no one on the other side of the window.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin tried to wedge his preternaturally sharp claws into the crack below the window. If it wiggled at all he might be able to force it up, lock or no. If not, he'd simply have to break the glass and hope for the best. And if someone was inside... this could go quite badly.

Damn Flagg for dropping me in this mess, he thought, as he tried to slowly force the claws on his right hand into the window frame.

[WindStruck]

[roll0]

After almost a minute of fruitless jiggling, it seemed the cheap lock on the window was giving way, and you got the hang of it! A little longer, and you were able to push the window open... but it made a bit of noise. Again, so lucky to be undead. A normal person would be going through quite some workout.. maybe even agony trying to keep themselves holding onto the window sill for that long. But no matter now. You're in!

It's rather dark in the room. Seems you've stumbled into a small bedroom. No one's in bed or nearby. You creep around some more. The door to this bedroom is wide open, and there's little more than a small hallway, a tiny bathroom, and a cramped kitchen/dining room/den. Overall the place is just small. But no one's here. For now.

You quickly get the hell out of the private property, closing the door behind you. You're faced with yet another small hallway. Stairs are to your right, and a dead end and probably another crappy apartment to your left. Common sense would dictate you want to go down the stairs...

When you do so, you're now at the main entryway (backside) on the first floor of the building. Simply leaving is a trivial matter. But the other door to the business front is likely locked and also protected by some kind of security device...

if you feel like interrupting these actions up to the next door/challenge, feel free. Cause who knows? Maybe if you're a big enough jerk you want to take their toaster or tv or something. :smalltongue:

[Toilet Cobra]

Curse it all, Corbin thought. I don't know why I thought that would work.

He briefly considered bashing his way directly through the wall, to avoid setting off the door alarm. With his strength, and preternaturally strong claws, he might've pulled it off even without a sledgehammer at hand. But it would alert the neighborhood to his presence, and someone would alert the police. So that wouldn't be much different than going through the door and setting off the alarm, except that it would take longer and get drywall dust in his eyes.

Nothing for it. Choosing his placement for what he hopes will be maximum impact, Corbin prepared to kick the interior door open, and knock it clear off the hinges if necessary.

Not sure the best roll here. I'm going to assume a Strength + Security roll (strength for kicking power, security to know the best place to kick a locked door). I doubt my strength specialty (Heavy Lifter) would apply here?

Strength + Security, 4 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

I'd say it's just a pure strength check. At this point no skill is involved at all. Just raw strength. And no, no specialty.

You lunge at the door with a powerful kick, and the whole building seems to shake. The door still stands too, but definitely looks off now, like the frame has taken damage. You kick the door twice more, and the door jars open, creaking in a pained cacophony as the door is forced open. It's so messed up, they'll definitely need to remodel the whole frame now. It's open, but kind of stuck only partway, skewed as the hinges bent the wrong way.

But after all the ruckus you made, you hear something else: a constant, high-pitched sound, like an electronic tone or something. Then it hits you. That's the alarm system, and you're somewhat familiar with it by now. Typically there's a keypad device nearby. The owner of the place comes in (without bashing down the door) and they have so long to enter a pin code into the device. If they fail to do this, however... an alarm sounds, and the police are automatically notified.

Crap. You don't have long. Maybe only 20 or 30 seconds before the alarm goes off. Not to mention the neighbors. You quickly bolt in, squeezing through the opening.

Only the paltry light from the previous entryway and diluted lights from the street lamps outside stream through windows you vaguely see ahead, but there are still a lot of shadows, dark places, and silhouettes. You can barely see in this light...

You're in what appears to be a short hallway that opens up to a bigger area ahead. There's a door to your left and right, and oh, a light switch...

Time elapsed: 5 seconds (because this started as soon as the door went ajar)
Alarm: warning beeping

So now you can decide what you're going to do. Some examples: Charge ahead, go through the doors, turn on the lights and/or explore

And give a rough estimate of how long you expect to spend on your actions, in seconds.

Note: searching around one area (roughly the size of a desk and its immediate surroundings) will take you at least 30 seconds. If you want to cut 5 seconds off of that, you can, but each 5 seconds will increase difficulty by 1.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin walks calmly down the darkened hallway. He briefly considered heightening his senses to improve his night vision, but he couldn't avoid improving all of other senses at the same time, and this alarm was going to be hell on his ears as it was. So instead, he flicked on the light and took a look around the room he found himself in.

Grabbing a trash can off the floor, he glanced inside to make sure there was room, then starts shovelling documents, post-its, pictures, and anything else he could into the trash can. He searched the first desk quickly, pulling out each drawer, and dumping any papers he found into the bin he carried. He didn't expect to find anything else of interest, but if he did he'd bin it.

Dunno what Corbin can expect to find in these desks, but he wants essentially everything: any printed papers, binders, family photos, some guy's keys, a cell phone somebody forgot, basically anything other than paper clips and scotch tape.

You asked me to estimate how long he'd take-- even going as quickly as this, I figure 30 seconds is an absolute minimum, even if he's just barely glancing at the stuff he's grabbing. Probably longer, really. This is gonna take time, so Corbin's just going to have to deal.

And lastly, those two doors I passed: is there any writing on them? A little plastic plaque on the wall that says whose office it is? Or a window I can glance through to guess what goes on in them? Any info I can glean.

Roll to search the first desk: Perception + Alertness, 5 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Ah, now you could see. You didn't learn anything much about the small hallway you're in, other than its floor is some kind of cheap carpet, but up ahead just past the hallway was a somewhat smallish empty space. Beyond that is what looks like a cubicle to the left and right, forming another mini hallway down the middle.

To the left: a refrigerator, a sink with a small counter, and a plastic trash can already with lining in it. Also a water cooler next to the left cubicle. As the area opened up, the wall on the left facing the closed room you walked by has a window with open blinds. It's pretty dark in there, but looks like another more important office.

To your right is a cheap foldup table currently with nothing on it but some magazines, and some chairs in position next to it. On the right hand wall of what you walked past is yet another door which faces toward the front of the store. So no windows or anything that might tell you what's in those other two doors without opening them. There's no symbols or writing on any of the doors.

You decide to use a trash can to start pilfering everything. No point wasting more time trying to sort out what's what and missing out on important clues. You were just going to take everything! A lining was already in the trash can, and old nasty garbage was already in it... But then you had a brilliant idea. You simply took out the bag and used the can itself as your container.

Time elapsed: 15 seconds
Alarm: warning beeping

And, I'm not quite updating what you find yet. Because what I need to know is, with what I've told you now, which desk will be your first desk? Or do you even want to start looting random crap at this time?

[Toilet Cobra]

Swiping a magazine off the card table, on the off chance there's a name he can use on the front cover, Corbin makes his way further into the office. He tries the door on his right, forcing it open with his shoulder if necessary.

I'm gonna try the unmarked door to the right, if it's locked I'm going to try to force it.

Strength (if necessary) 4 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

The door to the office is locked, but with a quick and solid shoulder, the door cracks open almost effortlessly, and not too loudly too. It's too bad you made all that ruckus earlier. And the alarm...

You quickly flip on the light switch. This seems to be a fairly important looking office, like above whoever might work in the cubicles. There's a computer here: the monitor sits on the desk, and the tower on the ground. They're both off. There's also a printer and a package of blank printer paper near it.

On the wall facing the back end of the building are a pair of filing cabinets. There's also a safe. On the walls opposite the door and on the same side, there are shelves attached to the walls. Some books like some of the area, while ring binders take up more. And then there's a bunch of CDs. Hm. You aren't too sure how much any of this will be useful to you.

Also on the desk are picture frames. What must be, you assume, are family photos or pictures with frames. You scoop those into your trash bin. You look in the desk drawers, and among an assortment of pens, notepads, and other office supplies, you find a set of keys. You quickly stash those as well.

It's at about this time that the the beeping from the alarm system turns into a cacophony of blaring noises, hellbent on gathering the attention of everyone within a 1000 foot radius!

Damn. But there's still so much more to ransack...

Will you try and take the whole computer? And monitor too? What about all the other stuff?

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin quickly tears the computer's power cable out of the wall, and all the other cables out of the tower. He picks it up under one arm and continues about the room.

He stuffs photos and documents into the trash bin. He grabs one of the ring binders off the shelf, along with a random book, and into the trash they go. He's about to head for the door when he pauses to consider the keys.

Is the safe operated by a key, or is it a dial/keypad safe? If it is key-opened I will risk it, if not I think it's time to vamoose.

[WindStruck]

The safe is a modestly-sized, but seemingly very sturdy affair. Probably all but impossible for a vampire like you to smash open bare-handed. Maybe with your claws....

But anyway, no. The safe is simply keypad operated. Oh yeah, and the keys... Two appear to be car keys, and then it seems there are other odds and ends of normal-sized ones that could go to doors or something.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin pockets the keys. He's tempted to try the safe, but it's not a shoddy little thing he can break into easily. It's a sturdy, solid thing, and it'd be a difficult task on his best night to bust into it. He has neither the time nor the resources on hand to make a go of it, so he regretfully leaves it behind.

Heading back the way he'd entered, computer under one arm and trash can under the other, Corbin pauses outside the first 'office' door he'd passed on the way in. He considers a moment- then throws caution to the wind and kicks the door as hard as he can, trying to gain entry to the no-doubt locked room.

Strength to kick open the door, 4 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

It was a pain in the butt disconnecting the computer cables from the back. In particular, that one cord that is screwed in on both sides which attaches the monitor. You wind up rending the wires with your claws to get the damn thing off faster, then you proceed back out, until you think of the other door.

Not even bothering to see if the door was unlocked or not, you kick it, and the door bursts open, swinging back along its hinges and slamming into the wall with a shudder. But you barely hear the racket over the alarm blaring.

This room appears to be some kind of computer repair workshop, a bit smaller than the office you were just in. But it also contains another computer on top of another filing cabinet which is running, connected to another small electronic device, with yet more cables attached to that that run up through the ceiling. There's also some computer towers on an old bench to your left, one open and exposing the electronic components to all the dust in the room.

Roll Intelligence+Computers to see if you know what this computer and gizmo is. Difficulty 6.

There's two fold-up chairs here, and on the right are some stacks of boxes.

Make an Alertness+Perception check.

[WindStruck]

Quite clearly, the computer before you is some kind of server, and the small box with all the lights and wires is the router. Not your typical home router, but some kind of business hub. Either way, that's what it is.

As for the perception check, it's a fail, but don't sweat it. lol

Now that you've identified basically what's what in this room, will you raid it too, or make your escape?

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin pauses to consider. He knows a bit about computers, but not enough to get much use out of this router. A hacker of even modest skill might be able to peel information out of it, but Corbin doesn't qualify, nor does he know anyone who could do the job for him. In fact it's a tossup whether he'll be able to get anything out of the tower he's lugging around in the first place.

Shaking his head, and cursing the noise, Corbin makes for the exit. As he approaches the twisted doorframe through which he'd entered, he sets down his burdens to take a peek outside before he climbs through.

Just to see if there's an army of gangsters out there waiting for me.

Perception + Awareness, 5 dice [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Corbin doesn't see anyone just outside the door he busted down. But he thinks he can hear some commotion and yelling coming from up the stairs! And then hurried footsteps coming down....

[Toilet Cobra]

Damn. If somebody's coming, now's a bad time to crawl out the door. Instead, Corbin goes the other way, flipping the lights off as he goes. He's on the lookout for an alternate exit-- a front entrance, perhaps.

Corbin is going to look for a front door that can be opened from the inside without much trouble. If he has to he might try breaking out a window as well.

[WindStruck]

Finding the front exit is pretty straight-forward. As you pass by the front desk, you hear the phone ringing. But no time for that when the police could be coming at any minute and you probably have gangsters behind you!

Opening the door isn't too hard either. It's locked, of course, but simply fumbling around, you manage to flip the switch to unlock it. That's when you hear shouting, and you can see the silhouettes of people squeezing through the door you had mangled open.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin is tempted to stay and try to overpower the new arrivals. One of them might have some useful information, after all. But he'd probably have to kill somebody in the process, and there was no telling if the cops were actually on their way or not. He didn't want to be up here interrogating some gangster if a couple of squad cars were about to pull up.

So he pushes his way through the front door and out into the street. Still lugging his ill-gotten loot, he tries to sneak away into the darkness and anonymity of the nearest alley.

Gonna try to sneak away without being seen, not sure if that's even possible with all the junk I'm carrying. If necessary, here's a stealth check:

Dexterity + Stealth, 6 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

You clumsily make your way out the door with loot in hands, your pursuers surely to be on your heels at any moment. Unfortunately, they are not too far away and know the general direction you've gone, you're at a disadvantage lugging this trash can around, and the nearest alley isn't really that near at all. It's across the street a few doors down.

You manage to get across the street and duck behind a truck as you hear the door to the place you just robbed swing open.

[roll0]
[roll1]

One guy runs along the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, seemingly intent on checking this other alley you might have gone down. Another has the same idea, and he runs for the one you were going to go down. Luckily he doesn't go behind the truck at first, but as he passes, he glances just for a moment and stops, having spotted you.

He yells something in Chinese. Or was it Japanese? Taiwanese? Same difference, you can't understand it at all, and his other friend turns around and starts running this way. The guy that spotted you starts running at you. Oh yeah. And they both have baseball bats.

It's a fight! Roll initiative. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XI1VpElKWF8)

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin pauses in the alley. As the men advance in a run, he takes a moment to carefully set down his stolen goods on the asphalt. Then he lunges towards the nearest bat-wielding man, claws forward, to attempt a grisly disembowelment.

Quick claw attack at the nearest fellow.

Claw attack, Dex + Brawl, 7 dice: [roll0]

[Toilet Cobra]

Claws do Strength + 1 damage, so with 5 bonus successes for that attack and 4 strength, I believe it's 10 dice for the damage pool.

Damage roll [roll0]

[WindStruck]

You shred the man's stomach to ribbons before he even knows what hits him, and he can barely let out a gurgling scream as he collapses to a heap on the sidewalk, with a pool of blood rapidly spreading on the ground. Even if paramedics were right here, they couldn't possibly save him. He's toast.

The baseball bat clatters with an echo to the ground, oddly louder than your victim's last cries. His cohort, who had been running full stop to close the distance between him and the fray makes it across the street and some feet away, but he's stopped cold in his tracks, as he views the carnage, the copious amounts of blood on the ground and blood splattered on your clothes and face. And the claws. His face has all but lost its color.

Corbin ( )
Gangster B (Defensive, and fleeing)

To you, it's clear now. This other guy has lost the will to fight, and he's about to high tail it out of here. But can you afford to let him live now? He's seen your face! Sort of. It is kind of dark out here. But what if rumors of a man with claws for hands were to start circulating around the city?

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin didn't like attacking a fleeing foe. It went against his honor. Time was, when a man surrendered, you either took him prisoner or let him go with his dignity. That was how things were back in Texas.

Problem was, there were many miles between Philly and the Texas Republic, not to mention a few thousand nights. Here and now, Corbin was caught in a game of survival. Would anybody believe an immigrant gang-banger raving about a man with claws? Probably not. But if word got back to the right people, it might make its way to the Sheriff, who just might mention it to the Prince. Corbin needed to remain off the radar at all costs, lest he become even more of an annoyance to the powers that be. So he had only one real option.

Corbin lunged after the fleeing, screaming man, trying to catch him before he could build up speed. Doing his best to sink his claws in the man's back, Corbin sought his heart, trying to end it quickly.

Claw attack at the fleeing gangster.

Dex + Brawl, 7 dice: [roll0]

If you want, since you have to roll dodge dice, you can roll my damage too after you determine whether I hit him or not. Might make it easier.

[WindStruck]

Dodge: [roll0]

Damage: [roll1]
( 7-9 are possible, using only first dice rolled)

Wide-eyed, the Oriental gangster's jaw drops as he sees up close how wicked your animal claws are, and he tries to avoid your brutal assault with limited success. You rake across his arm and chest but it's not too deep of a wound to drop him or even hamper him too much at this point. He screams and takes off running back towards the alley he was about to head down before, blood oozing out of his wounds and occasionally dripping to the pavement. Smells like sushi. How tasty.

So thinking about your running question, I think we should do this for full on sprints: speed is determined by either strength+athletics OR strength+dexterity. Choose which is higher. The difference in successes signifies feet gained or lost in the chase. A botch means you fall down for some completely lame reason, hit your head, or some other random bad thing.

After 6+stamina rounds, you start rolling stamina at d8. Failure means your speed is penalized by -1 (in addition to any other penalties). A botch means your speed AND stamina rolls are penalized. These penalties won't drop your dice pools below 1 but perhaps being wounded could.

But of course since you're undead, you never need to make stamina rolls.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin plunges towards the fleeing man, nostrils flaring and blood pounding in his ears. But despite Corbin's physical advantages, and the man's injuries, the terror of the chase has made him remarkably fleet of foot. He hurtles away in a desperate sprint, and Corbin has to call on the power of his vitae to close the gap.

But close the gap he does... he gains one foot, then another, then another... soon the wounded man is just barely out of reach of his claws. Blood is streaming down the man's back, and Corbin unconsciously licks his fangs as he watches crimson droplets fall onto the pavement one by one.

Spending a blood point to increase Corbin's dexterity to 5 for the scene. Chase rolls in the other thread; if I did my math right, I have 5 more successes than this guy, and so I cut the distance between us down somewhat.

[WindStruck]

The chase is on, with you closing in on your all but helpless prey. You gain on him, but not as much as you'd think. It isn't just the adrenaline. Apparently he knows this area in and out as he deftly weaves around a stack of pallets you can barely see and are forced to jump over or else slam into with your high speed, and then he hurdles over a trash can which you bowl over.

By now you've nearly reached the other end of this alley, over in the direction of the back entrance to the building you just broke into. The man yells something in a crazed foreign voice, but he clearly sounds out of breath.

[roll0] 0
[roll1] 0
[roll2] 2

stamina: [roll3]
(-1)[roll4] 2

stamina: [roll5]
(-1)[roll6] 2

If you don't catch him by the 3rd roll, he'll veer right (toward that back door again).

[Toilet Cobra]

Feet pounding, Corbin takes a flying leap as the man zig-zags among the alleyway debris. Snarling like a beast, Corbin is out for blood.

But his attack proves reckless-- he underestimated his target's agility, and overestimated his own. Although he connects with the fleeing man in mid-air, he fails to make a hold, and crashes to the wet asphalt, scattering garbage and debris as he comes to earth.

Even for Corbin, that's kind of embarassing. He does one point of bashing damage with his tackle, then falls.

Unless the gangster also fails his roll and falls, this chase is probably over.

[WindStruck]

You leap at the Chinese or Taiwanese gangster or whatever. It most definitely isn't your finest hour as you nearly grab the man and skid along the ground instead. But the impact, just as the man was turning the corner, twisted his body all wrong. He lets out a cry of surprise as his ankle is sprained, and then he falls, hitting his head on the ground and stunning him momentarily.

It seems you've got this punk, finally. But wait. You sense something else.

Stepping out from the shadows of the building comes another asian man. A pretty big fellow, actually. Just about as tall as you, and pretty heavy-set. He looks mean and has an intimidating, silent scowl on his face. Well, it might actually be intimidating if he wasn't a mortal and you weren't a vampire.

The guy is reminiscent of Odd Job from that old James Bond movie, except he isn't dressed in a suit and a bowler hat. He's got on black jeans, black boots, some kind of band T-shirt, and a denim jacket over that. He kinda has the Odd Job mustache going too, but his whole face is scruffy looking. That's when his knuckles whiten and his arms flex slightly, and you notice the blade in his hand. Not just a knife. This thing is a freaking sword.

Then the man's lips part slightly, but he says nothing. Instead he just growls menacingly. What the hell is up with this guy?

It's Corbine's turn to act.

The gangster you chased is temporarily stunned on the ground. Treat him as incapacitated for this round, except maybe no instant death if taking damage...

Odd Job 2.0 will go after you... though I think I already know his actions on his turn.

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin is slightly taken aback at the sight of this big fellow and his blade. As he rolls painfully onto his side, then rises into a crouch, he regrets not simply bolting when he had a chance. All this for a trash can full of old papers...

His unceremonious fall put a serious damper on Corbin's animal bloodlust. Sopping wet, filthy, and now aching to boot, he'd pretty much returned to his usual sardonic self. "Be with you in just a second, big guy," he says to Oddjob. "Just gotta take care of somethin'..."

Limping a little himself, he strides over to the groaning man. He reaches down unceremoniously and plunges his claws into the gangster's neck.

Not sure if the difficulty is the same for a prone target.

Claw attack, Dex + Brawl, 8 dice
[roll0]

[WindStruck]

I'd say the difficulty for attacking a guy who's kinda knocked out (but you are under time constraint) is just like a 3. So you got 7 successes there. Add 5 dice for damage and...

[roll0]

The poor Asian gangster can hardly even gurgle a whimper as you tear his throat out, with blood gushing everywhere. Your death count is two for the night now. As you do this, Oddjob's eyes narrow. It seemed his legs were spread apart. Maybe a more defensive stance? But that changes as he quickly approaches you to avenge his cohort!

attack with "split" dice (-2 penalty): [roll1] @dif8

damage dice: [roll2]

He just misses you by an inch! Now it's your turn to mess him up before... well, before he messes you up. You notice he's still got that defensive posture going, however.

[Toilet Cobra]

The blade whizzes by Corbin, missing by a matter of an inch or less. THAT sobers him up quick enough; blades, and the people who know how to use them, are no joke to the Kindred, even particularly tough specimens like Corbin. Corbin wouldn't be first Cainite to underestimate a mortal swordsman and meet his Final Death.

Willing his flesh to strengthen to resist a counter-blow, Corbin lunges up from the ground where he'd just dispatched the second gangster. With no fancy moves of his own, Corbin just tries to do what's always worked for him over the last two centuries: fight as hard as you can, as fast as you can, as mean as you can, and hope the other guy lost his nerve or his life before you did. So he leaps up with his claws out and his fangs on display, aiming for the jugular!

Corbin spends a blood point to increase his Stamina to 4 (puts him at 5 blood points).

Claw attack: Dex + Brawl, 8 dice [roll0]

[WindStruck]

The tough, asian looking man, still not disturbed by your vampiric nature at all attempts to push you aside with his sword, if not parrying your claws, outright chopping your limbs off, but you are too damn fast and he loses his cool, flinching defensively instead.

Somehow, that works, as he manages to barely sidestep you. You feel your claws dig in his arms just a little bit, but all they managed to do was tear at his jacket!

The Oddjob wannabe takes your failed assault as an opportunity to land a killer blow!

attack: [roll0] (1 success)

potential damage: [roll1] (pulling 6 dice from this)

You have 4 slashing damage to absorb.

[Toilet Cobra]

For a mortal, this man was both strong and fantastically skilled. Corbin leapt to to the attack expecting to be hit, but the sheer force of the counterattack caught him completely off-guard.

The man's sword struck hard at Corbin's middle, but failed to find purchase. The sharply pointed tip sketched a red line up his stomach and across his ribs, shredding his shirt. But although the blade flexed slightly under the pressure exerted by the man's mighty arm, the weapon couldn't penetrate Corbin's resilient hide.

Corbin was reeling from the blow, though more from the sheer force than from any pain or crippling damage. Although the wound was certainly ugly, it would not hamper his movement overmuch. Recovering as quickly as he was able, Corbin again lashed out with his claws, hoping to slay the man before his brief spate of luck ran out.

Corbin's roll was miraculously free of 1's, and he just managed to soak the 4 damage if I count correctly.

Spending another blood point (down to 4 now, gettin' hungry) to raise his Stamina again, topping it out at 5.

Claw attack. Dex + Brawl, 8 dice [roll0]

[WindStruck]

Oddjob cringes as you cut him deeply, as your claws rake across his chest, his arms, and his neck... but he isn't giving in so quickly!

The smell of his blood... something is off...

roll perception+alertness to determine what is off with his blood merely by smell. Otherwise you can taste it later without a roll...

The man grips his sword tightly, as he swings it down at your head like he was trying to split a watermelon. He exhales sharply and all but shouts, "Ha!"

attack: [roll0] 2 successes.

damage potential: [roll1] pulling 7 dice

You've got 2 slashing damage to absorb. Easy-peasy, huh? :smalltongue:

[WindStruck]

That smell in the blood... not just human blood... there's vitae mixed in with it. He's a ghoul!

And even though Oddjob the Ghoul squarely hit you again, it's obvious to him by now that even his blade has a difficult time piercing your skin. His eyes go wide.

He expected to fight a vampire, yes. He didn't expect to fight a vampire that was so damn strong and resilient!

[Toilet Cobra]

This is an unexpected development. Although it certainly helped explain the man's incredible prowess with that blade.

Corbin had, of course, already tried to sell the Prince on the idea of Kindred involvement in this criminal group... but he hadn't actually believed it. He'd been perfectly ready to accept the idea that Flag had been outwitted, duped even, by mere mortals. After all it wouldn't have been the first time.

Seeing proof of a Cainite hand at work, though, gave him pause. What if he really was fighting his way blindly into Sabbat-run criminal syndicate? Or worse, what if he was unknowingly doing battle with a minion of some Camarilla Elder? Either way, he had to proceed with caution, and that meant switching tactics.

Willing his claws to retract back into his fingers, Corbin eschews lethal force. Instead, he rears back and slugs the man with all his might, hoping to subdue him for questioning.

Trying to punch him into submission. Dex + Brawl, 8 dice: [roll0]

[WindStruck]

You punch the Oddjob wannabe in the jaw, and his skull rattles a bit as he seems to stand there stunned, before falling flat on his face. You've knocked this ghoulish goon out for the time being. His sword, his money, all his stuff can now be yours! And you can interrogate him too. At least, provided you have the time to do so....

You notice now that there are other people down these back alleys, peeking out from their doors, some windows, even a guy behind a dumpster - not all that close mind you - but cautious bystanders witnessing the whole debacle. Roused not only by your loud, building-shaking entry to the office, but by that blaring alarm. You could probably hear their murmurs if not for that alarm. And some of them have phones. Crap.

To top it off, above the sound of that loud, obnoxious alarm, you now think you can finally hear police sirens. That took them what, about 3 minutes? Maybe there was a patrol car not too far away.

You also remember you've got a trash bin full of pilfered documents and a computer on the other side of these buildings, across the street. But could you get to it in time before the cops arrive? Do you even care about it now that you've got this ghoul subdued? And what are you going to do about all these people coming out of the woodwork?

[Toilet Cobra]

When the ghoul dropped from his punch, nobody was more surprised than Corbin. He stood there for a moment, almost as stunned as his opponent. Then he noticed all the humans gathering.

Didn't it just figure? At least he had retracted his claws, and not a moment too soon. He hoped none of these gawkers would have photos of him in his more feral state. Why was it mortals insisted on running towards danger with cameras? If he'd frenzied during the battle they could have signed their own death warrants.

Cursing and mourning the loss of all that vitae he'd have to leave behind-- Corbin wasn't at all averse to feeding from the newly deceased, and he'd hoped to drain both of the gangsters he'd already slain-- he stooped and lifted the bulky man in a fireman's carry. Abandoning his stolen papers and electronics along with the bodies of the dead, he hurried away as quick as he could, not caring about the direction. He tried to snake along the most deserted alleys until he could locate an appropriate hiding place-- a dumpster, a cellar stairway, anywhere he could lurk with the unconscious man.

[Toilet Cobra]

Dragging the man into an alley that looks promising, Corbin spots his prize: a greasy, grey metal dumpster parked deep in the shadows. Ignoring the skittering cockroaches and the acrid stink of rotting garbage, Corbin hoists the man and drops him inside. Then, with a sigh, he hops in after him and shuts the dumpster's hard plastic lid.

Crouching in the reeking confines of the dumpster, waiting for the sounds of sirens to fade, Corbin takes a moment to reflect on his present situation. Well, it was only fair to say that he'd frankly botched the night's operation. He'd been frustrated and afraid to fail his Sire, and so he'd brute-forced his way through a situation that required only a modicum of finesse. In the process, he'd killed two men-- criminals and thugs, admittedly, but not exactly a credible threat. A quick smack would have sent them off limping, but then that wouldn't have let him vent his anger. So he lashed out at the nearest thing that couldn't fight back, exactly as Flagg would have done. And for what? For an unconscious Chinese ghoul and a few binders that were currently soaking rainwater in the street.

He rubbed his face in his hands. You're two hundred years old, Whitepelt, he admonished himself. That's too old to feel guilt pangs. But that didn't do anything for the tight, wrenching feeling in his gut, or the false sensation of a shortness of breath. He envisioned himself, mouthing off smartly to the ghoul while he leaned over and tore out a helpless man's throat. What was the point of that? What in God's name was wrong with him?

He turned towards the helpless Ghoul. The combat adrenaline, and the enhancements he'd made to hiself with vitae, were all fading. He felt deflated, tired, weak. And hungry.

"I guess the rest is on me, but you interrupted my dinner," he muttered. "So you've got only yourself to blame for this." He picked up the big man, settling him into his lap like a child. Ignoring the foul odors and the taste of sweat, Corbin sank his fangs into the man's neck. He found no savor in this Kiss-- the sweet, aching pleasure that should have been was lost in his guilt and malaise. Corbin fed perfunctorily, and thrust the man (now deeply comatose) aside as soon as he felt even a little satiated.

Finally, after nearly an hour had passed, he reckoned it was safe to move. Retrieving his phone, he called for Flagg.

Corbin has just enough blood remaining to avoid a feeding frenzy. I would like him to take two blood points from the ghoul, putting him back at six.

[WindStruck]

The phone rings and rings. And then it rings some more. Finally, the thing that would frustrate you the most happens:

The caller, Amos is unavailable right now. Please leave a message after the beep.

*BEEP*

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin grits his teeth and grinds his fist into his temple in frustration. He sends up a silent prayer to whatever devil guides the fates of forsaken Cainites like himself, hoping that wherever Flagg is, he's getting his goddamn ass kicked.

He looks back at his contact list, pitifully short as it is, and considers his options. There's Flagg at the top, naturally, and that's a dead end. He's already tapped Omar on this job, and really, the man was only useful for certain information... if Corbin asked him to help in his current jam, Omar would probably just say sayonara and that'd be the last he'd hear of him.

He had a contact with a ghoul in service to Theresa Foxx, the Gangrel Primogen. But that was another dead end. Theresa hated Corbin almost as much as she hated Flagg. She was one step away from asking Rodney for permission to drain both Amos' blood and his own, and if she got wind that he'd skirted the Masquerade so blatantly tonight, well, it'd probably be the end of them. No, the Primogen would be no help. He moved on.

Then there was a fourth contact, just marked "NO". Corbin looked at it, hesitating. There was... probably no option worse than calling that number. It might be better, safer to let the ghoul die right here, and be forced to face the deadly consequences of failure, rather than asking her for help. And yet he hesitated.

But... there was one more option. He recalled that, ages ago when he'd been just a ghoul, he'd seen a gathering of Kindred at a club here in town. He'd been given a number (not for his own use, but in case he ever had to make arrangements on Flagg's behalf) and had dutifully entered it into the phone. He had no actual connections there... his miserable fortune meant he wasn't invited to most of the local vampiric gathering places. He didn't even know who ran the club in question. But if they were Camarilla, they might be willing to exchange favors for favors. And he was hard pressed to think of ANY Camarilla elder he wouldn't beg for help right now.

So he pressed the button marked "600" and let it ring. He tried to focus his thoughts... he'd have to play this very, very carefully.

[WindStruck]

The phone barely rings once before a young, female voice answers the phone: "Thank you for calling Club 600, this is Jessica speaking,"

Huh. How to answer that? Seemed kind of like the normal greeting you would find at any other place.. disturbingly.

Well you know you can't introduce yourself as Whitcomb the Gangrel Vampire. And you can't very well ask this girl to help you deal with your unconscious ghoul problem either. Even you have that much common sense. With little choice or ingenuity in the matter of how to go about this, you ask to talk to the owner of the establishment.

The girl sounds a little unsure of herself. "Uh... well he's currently unavailable. Can I take a message?"

Damn, this couldn't be just another dead end, could it? There had to be something you could say that might get some results...

[Toilet Cobra]

"Of course he's unavailable, sweetheart," Corbin says, not knowing who 'he' was but assuming 'he' was an important personage and probably didn't have time for random calls from strangers. "But this is pretty serious. Give him this message: my name is Corbin, and he doesn't know me but we're kindred. I need his assistance tonight and I'm ready to make it up to him however he thinks is fair. Now repeat that back to me, please."

Making sure that she has the message down exactly as he said it, Corbin rattles off his number, figuring he'll likely get a call back if he gets any response at all. Then he settles in to wait, his eye on the clock and his mind on the dwindling period between that moment and sunrise.

Corbin considered. If memory served him, the 600 was a Ventrue operation, and in days past Flagg was an ally of theirs... though it was less that he supported them and more that he didn't support the Gangrel allying closely with the Brujah (a move which the Ventrue had also opposed). But it would be a stretch to say that they'd had any friends in the Bluebloods even back then, and certainly by now any goodwill the Ventrue extended to Corbin and Flagg had evaporated. If he was lucky, they'd treat him with a clean slate, rather than as a pariah. It was pretty pathetic that that was the best-case scenario that he could hope for, but that was the reality of the situation.

[WindStruck]

Almost ten minutes go by as you patiently waited. And grew impatient. But eventually the phone rang, to which you answered almost immediately without even looking at the name of the caller. A rather cold, aloof voice greeted you.

"This is Sinclaire. And you are.. Mr. Corbine? Or is that merely your first name?"

...

"So, you say you need my assistance. In what manner? I am a very busy man who knows many important people. And I don't know you. So from the outset, I am doubtful that you can help me."

[Toilet Cobra]

"Yeeee-owch," Corbin groans. "You don't even remember my name? There's what, fifty of us in this city? That's mighty cold, Mr. Sinclaire." Although he spoke very casually, Corbin was actually playing this call very, very carefully. He wanted to both intrigue and provoke the man, in order to capture and hold his interest. So his nonchalant rudeness was very much a calculated front; the last thing he wanted to do was raise the ire of a powerful Ventrue elder, but he simply had no other option. He wasn't just playing with a less-than-full hand, here; he had exactly one card, it sure wasn't an Ace.

And if Sinclaire truly didn't recall who he was? That could only be a good thing for Corbin.

"Well, you may not remember me but I sure know you, sir," he continues. "And I know you have an interest in certain information. Well, tonight I have that information, only it's in the form of one kicked-to-crap chinese ghoul." He nudged the unconscious gangster with his foot."I intend to peel some answers out of him shortly, answers to some questions arising from personal matters... but maybe in the process I'll learn some things. Like who's pulling the strings with these Chinese gangs, what their strengths and weaknesses are. If that sounds like something you'd like to hear, too, maybe we can work something out here.

What I need is a car with a trustworthy driver, and a secure place to do the peeling. My ass is out in the wind at the moment, pardon my espanol, and I think this is worthy of a whole night's attention. Maybe more than one. So a nice, soundproof bolthole would be just peachy."

[WindStruck]

"Information..." the snooty vampire repeats somewhat unimpressed over the phone. But he stays silent as you sell your pitch.

But after you were done talking, there was still silence for some seconds. "I see. Chinese ghoul, you say. That is most interesting..."

A few more seconds pause. "Yes, I think we will need to arrange your transportation immediately. What was your location?"

Huh, well that was easy. Almost too easy...

So I would assume next post Corbine tells them where to pick him up, and then he'll just wait for the car to arrive. Anything else you'd like to do before then? Make sure to tell me in the next post. :smallsmile:

[Toilet Cobra]

Corbin looked at his now-silent phone thoughtfully. What are my odds here? he wondered. They didn't seem good, but then his prospects never did, did they?

After a moment, he placed another call to Flagg. He waited patiently as it rang through to voicemail.

"Good evening, Sire," he started. "Well, I have good news and bad news for you. I've got a ghoul here who seems to be working with the people who robbed us. Hopefully I can put a few questions to him. I've made contact with Sinclaire-- one of the Ventrue big-shots we sided with a few years ago. Supposedly he's got a place where I can perform my interrogation.

I... frankly don't know how this is going to play out. I don't have a lot of leverage on this guy, so it might not go well for me. You know as well as I do that Camarilla loyalty doesn't go so far these days.

Well, I'm gonna try to get you your answers tonight. And if the worst should happen, just... keep in mind I tried my best. Wish me luck."

His affairs set in order as best he could manage, Corbin waited calmly for Sinclaire's man to show himself.

[WindStruck]

After leaving your message, you wait... About 15-20 minutes later, what must be it arrives. A black hummer expertly pulls around the corner, wheels grinding pebbles into the asphalt and headlights glaring, effectively blinding you.

Three men step out of the car: two sharp-looking guys in pressed, midnight-blue suits with ties and shiny dress shoes. One appears to have an earpiece. They almost seem to be of the same caliber as secret service. The other is a man wearing a pinstripe suit and big gaudy sunglasses, and he just looks a lot scruffier and like he gives a lot less crap than anyone else, especially with that amused smirk on his face.

They all seem to have some kind of weapons concealed in their jackets.

The far more casual one steps forward, lips and tongue moving around a toothpick hanging outside his mouth. "Well, well, well. New bloodsucker in town? Or how long have you been avoiding the sheriff?"

The man grins knowingly. Probably thinks he could get you in deep ****. Thankfully, you've talked to the prince yourself, and he didn't seem to care all that much for the formalities.

"So where is he," he says without much inflection, looking around the alley and immediately eying the dumpster.

[Toilet Cobra]

Braving the glare of the lights, Corbin stepped forward. Was this the sheriff? He'd never actually met him, due to his unique position below pond scum in the Camarilla hierarchy. Still, it'd be a silly thing for someone to claim without being able to back it up.

"Not new," Corbin says casually. "But I try to keep my head down. Corbin Whitcomb, at your service. I'd shake your hand but..." Corbin raises his hands in a helpless gesture, indicating his filthy, bloodstained condition.

When the man asks for the ghoul's location, Corbin turns and taps the dumpster with the toe of his boot. "Right here. Though he might need a bit of patching up..."

"So, I must say your involvement in this issue comes as something of a pleasant surprise," Corbin says conversationally. "Makes me wonder what I've stumbled into, though. First a well-trained fighting ghoul pops up where I was expecting a few mortal stooges at worst, and now the Sheriff is involved? I'm guessing this is a lot bigger than me, now."

In truth, the involvement of the Sheriff was a massive relief to Corbin. He hadn't done anything to piss the man off, and as far as he knew Rodney wasn't quite ready to have him 'disposed of', so hopefully the Sheriff's presence here meant that everybody would play nice and civil, if only out of habit.

[WindStruck]

"The sheriff?" the man says with that sh*t-eating grin on his face. "Now I know you're just a country bumpkin, like a naked baby in the woods. But in the city... Eh." He shakes his head and starts anew with a gesture. "The point is, if we were the sheriff, you'd be in a world of trouble right now. I mean look at you. You're a walking masquerade violation!"

He doesn't deign to shake your hand and walks over to the dumpster, peering into it before recoiling back.

"Ugh. Do me a favor, pal, and get that guy outta there, will ya? Oh, and mind the upholstery..."

The slick man relays something to the others as he goes back to the car. Something about getting sheets. In the trunk is a tarp and blanket for you to lay the unconscious ghoul upon. And then in one of the side doors is a seat ready for you, covered with a blanket as well.


He comments more, "By the way you talk, I guess you at least clean up well. But goddamn you stink."